Santa Maria in Trastevere (Giornale 1)

I slowly ambled into the courtyard of the Santa Maria in Trastevere, behind some other tourist, and was immediately struck by the fragments mounted on the walls of the church’s courtyard. I examined them for a while, finding them fascinating since they stand as mementos of some of the many people that had lived here in older times. Many of these fragments had lovely carvings, either intricate patterns or animals, such as a lion, or small carvings whose lines seemed almost sketch-like in quality. I found that both types had their own sort of beauty.

Passing through the courtyard and entrance passage into the actual church, I was struck by the gorgeous artwork inside, from the stained glass windows to the mosaics to the paintings hidden in the side chapels. It was quite unexpected because, although there is a mosaic depicting the Madonna and her child surrounded by ten women who are, for the most part, dressed very elegantly on the outside of the church, the rest of the exterior of the church is very drab, and almost disappears into the surrounding buildings. (Thinking back on it, I am very surprised that the mosaics on the outside of the church are still so vibrant! I would have thought that time, and weather, would have tarnished and dimmed the colors of the mosaic.) I headed straight towards the altar in the front, almost bumping into people as I examined the mosaic swirls on the floor. Green and red mosaics created lines with geometric patterns within them, lines which twisted around each other down the aisles, leaving room for mosaic circles in between them. The dark green and reds contrasted beatifully with the rest of the mosaic floor, which was a off-white color.

Arriving at the front altar, I sat at a pew in the front, and spent a few moments just gazing at the wonderful artwork in the apse. I liked the sheep that represented the followers of Christ, since the artistans who decorated the apse had made the patterns that represented the wool of the sheep different for every other sheep. I was suddenly startled when the lights illuminating the apse dimmed, leaving only the meager light from the candles, and the stained-glass windows. I then realized that to turn on the lights you had to pay, which disappointed me. (Not for the fact that one had to pay to see the artwork, but that the church used it to make money. Neither am I upset that the church is making money from this, as I know that the money will go to the upkeep of the church. I’m more disappointed that something that many find holy was used to generate money. It seems to take the mosaics out of the realm of the sacred to a level that seems a little cheap, even though the artwork is still as lovely as ever, and most certainly not cheap.)

Sighing, I stood up from the pew and continued to walk around the church, exiting the church after peering into all the side chapels and admiring the art in them.