Abbandonato

Lucca, like much of Italy, is a blend of medieval and Renaissance structures built atop the remains of a Roman city. Much has been preserved and restored - the Renaissance walls, the medieval city gates, Roman remains of an amphitheater and forum, streets, buildings, and churches that  combine elements of all three eras. 

Crocifisso dei Bianchi church, Lucca

Some churches have been lovingly maintained and are filled with art, beauty, candles and people. Others have been converted to performance spaces or galleries and some are abbandonato (abandoned), hidden from the public and rarely if ever open. One such church is the Crocifisso dei Bianchi on Via Crossifisso, within the walls of Lucca but in a less visited part of the historic center. 

Holy water basin, Crocifisso dei Bianchi church, Lucca

 A church has stood in this spot for more than 1,000 years. The current church, named for the group of white-robed penitents (Bianchi) who worshipped here around the year 1400, once housed a famous crucifix. The crucifix is now gone, housed elsewhere, and the church has been mostly abandoned and rarely open to the public for many years. What is it about abandoned places that makes me desperate for a peek inside?

Interior detail, Crocififfo dei Bianchi church. 

Interior of the abandoned Crocifisso dei Bianchi church. 

When I visit Lucca I often wander into wonderful surprises - a street-side concert, people in medieval costumes recreating events from long ago, a dance performance in a piazza, art shows. I'm thankful that my stays are long enough to allow me to wander the city and rearrange my day to take advantage of serendipitous events. Recently, my wandering was rewarded when I passed by the Crocifisso dei Bianchi church and found it open and hosting a small art exhibit.

The main altar, the best preserved portion of the church.

The art was interesting but it was the building - stripped of its famous crucifix, empty niches where art and sculpture once stood, crumbling in places and looking forgotten - that drew me in. The main altar was intact, with a single dark painting above it.

Fresco remnant, above the altar. 

There were faded frescoes, marble floors, a beautiful choir loft, and the echoes of those long-gone Bianchi penitents in the air. 

Front door of the church with choir loft above. 

I loved spending time in the quiet and semi-dark interior and photographing this special place. My hope is that one day it will be restored and no longer abbandonato.                 -post by JMB

Fresco detail, Crocifisso dei Bianchi church

One of the side chapels of the church. 

Fresco remnant from the domed ceiling above the altar, Crocifisso dei Bianchi church.

Will Fly for Fiocchi

I don’t think the waiter at 4 Leoni in Florence believed me when I told him I had flown halfway across the world for the restaurant’s fiocchi di pera in salsa di taleggio e asparagi. And while it may have been a slight exaggeration, it is true that ever since making plans to return to Tuscany this past spring I looked forward to savoring this delightful dish again.

4 Leoni's fiocchi di pera

I first tasted 4 Leoni’s fiocchi in early January. It is unlike any other pasta dish I have had, and it is heavenly. The fiocchi are little pasta bundles filled with tiny pieces of pear. If I had to guess, I would say there is also a bit of ricotta in the mix. The sauce is a creamy blend of taleggio cheese and small bites of asparagus. The combination is amazing – simple snippets of sweetness as you bite into one of the pasta purses offset by the smooth yet surprisingly light sauce.

A waiter at 4 Leoni looks out at the piazza while waiting for the lunch crowd to hit.

After ordering, I sat with a smile on my face in anticipation of what was to come. The waiter laughed as he set the dish down (he also seemed to indicate I was not the only customer who has had this reaction to fiocchi di pera in salsa di taleggio e asparagi). Each bite was perfectly soft (but not mushy) and melted in my mouth. The serving size was ideal  – I was not left wanting more but I ate every last morsel. This type of meal is part of what I love about Italy - it is simple yet satisfying, portion-controlled yet plenty. It is served with pride and enjoyed (at least by me) with gratitude. There is nothing quite like satisfying a craving, is there?

4 Leoni is one of my favorite restaurants Oltrarno (on the other side of the River Arno) in Florence. It blends Tuscan architectural style with modern accents, and its location in a historic piazza adds to the ambience. The menu is varied with many types of pasta dishes as well as grilled meats - something for everyone! It is popular with locals and tourists alike, so reservations are recommended. I, of course, also recommend the fiocchi.

-post by JG

4leoni.it

I Portici di Bologna

Portico - the word is the same in Italian and English; portici is the Italian plural. The dictionary definition, "a porch or walkway with a roof supported by columns" (thefreedictionary.com), does not begin to describe the grandeur of Bologna's portico-lined walkways.

Bologna's earliest porticos date to the 11th century (with modifications and additions in later centuries) and are found throughout the historic center of town. They are as practical as they are beautiful. Originally, they allowed for additional living space to be built on upper floors, an important housing consideration in a town with a large student population. This was accomplished by extending living space above the areas used by the people passing underneath, creating both living space and covered walkways. The ceilings of the porticos are quite high - legend has it that they are a standard height, designed to accommodate a man on horseback.

The porticos open to the streets through a series of arches. 

Some of the earliest porticos were made of wooden beams and coverings, later banned and mostly removed. Today the porticos have brick or stone columns, arched openings, vaulted ceilings, and stone or marble pavements. As an additional practicality, the porticos offer protection from both rain and direct sun, making the streets of Bologna perhaps the most pleasant place to stroll in all of Europe.

This length of portico has beautiful columns and ceilings as well as marble flooring. 

​There are 38 kilometers (nearly 24 miles) of porticos in the historic center of Bologna, beneath which are a variety of shops, markets, cafes, and restaurants.

Under the portico along Via Ugo Bassi. 

A pretty flower market under the portico. 

The charming cafe Gamerini sits under a pretty stretch of portico along Via Ugo Bassi and Via S. Gervasio

A morning coffee or an afternoon tea at a cafe sotto il portico (beneath the portico) is a real treat!

Outside of the historic center is perhaps the most remarkable of all the porticos - the world's longest covered walkway, which leads to the Santuario di San Luca. This four-kilometer (roughly 2.5 miles) uphill portico has a total of 666 arches. It begins with a gentle rise from the Porta Saragozza and becomes progressively steeper as it climbs the hill toward the church. A massive and costly undertaking when it was built (late 1600s - mid 1700s), the arches were funded privately, many by families who built small shrines or chapels along the walkway (most now destroyed, only a few remain). Completing this walk really is a pilgrimage - and beautiful views and a lovely church await at the top (it's also possible to drive to the Santuario or take a tourist bus).

The all uphill portico leading to the Santuario di San Luca, Bologna. 

The Santuario end of the portal is un'ascesa ripida (a steep climb)!  

Bologna is a beautiful city, full of architectural, cultural, historic, and artistic interest. It's also a very walkable city - made all the more pleasant when strolling underneath i portici di Bologna.

                                                          -post by JMB

Italian Emigration

As a granddaughter of Italian immigrants, I was intrigued to recently visit a small museum in Lucca dedicated to telling the story of Italian emigration. It was in the late 1800s and early 1900s when the greatest number of Italians left their homeland in search of better lives. The majority – like my grandparents – came from southern Italy. That part of the country was mostly agricultural and impoverished. Italians from the south headed west – to North and South America - and to other parts of Europe as well.

The Museo Paolo Cresci in Lucca tells the story of Italian immigration from 1860 to 1960.

Italian emigration is like that of many other ethnic groups – in their new countries, immigrants largely had to take on jobs involving manual labor. Many traveled across the Atlantic by themselves, with few possessions other than their hopes for a better life. Once settled, they would send money home to help the family left behind.

The Museo Paolo Cresci in Lucca hosts photos and documents from some of those who made the transition. The items on display are taken from some 15,000 photographs and documents that Cresci collected from the families of those who emigrated.

Paolo Cresci collected more than 15,000 photos and documents from the families of Italians who emigrated.

Passports, transportation invoices and guides to new countries are among the items, as are black and white photos that starkly show the strain of the journey on the faces of those traveling. I found myself awed and humbled by their courage. People laden with all their belongings crowded onto ships for the voyage. Once they arrived, those who came to America sent postcards of the Statue of Liberty home to their families; it is fascinating to read the ones on display at the museum.

Family photos taken in the new country

The photos taken of these Italians after they resettled resemble many of my family’s old photos: children dressed for their First Holy Communion, families standing in their own homes. This time, the faces show pride for having “made it.” Wandering around the museum gave me time to think about what my forefathers sacrificed for their families. And it made me wish I had asked a lot more questions about the “old country” when I had the chance. I’m grateful that Lucca has this museum to help me find some answers.

The ceiling of Museo Paolo Cresci

The Museo Paolo Cresci looks at Italian emigration from 1860 to 1960 and admission is free. The building that houses the museum is worth a look all its own: it is a former chapel with a beautifully frescoed ceiling.

-post by JG

Fondazionepaolocresci.it

When You Can't Go for a Walk in Lucca .....

The view from one of my favorite places to walk - on the wall in Lucca, Italy.

There is much to love about everyday life in a small town in Italy. One of the things I appreciate is the chance to have a car-free lifestyle. I enjoy walking to accomplish daily tasks, like grocery shopping. Walking is also a way to enjoy the beautiful vistas, charming streets, interesting architecture, shops, and gardens. As an added bonus I even find that I get enough walking in while I’m in Italy to balance out the added calories that come with my increased consumption of pasta, bread, and wine. One of my goals in Lucca this past spring was to increase how much I walk every day – to get at least 10,000 steps. I’m happy to say that I was able to do this, in large part because the wall surrounding Lucca provides the perfect 2.5-mile walking path. When walking on the wall there are people to watch, friends to meet, children playing, and wonderful views of houses, gardens, terraces, churches and the distant mountains. Walking in Lucca never feels like an exercise chore – it's a pleasure.

But something happens when I'm not in Lucca. At home in New Mexico I bemoan the lack of charming and nearby places to walk. Somehow the treadmill at the gym just doesn’t compare. Even the parks seem inadequate. And having to drive somewhere just to walk seems so, well, not Italian. Inevitably I fall short of my goals.

Determined to find a new and interesting place to walk near home, I recently discovered the joys of walking along the acequias of Albuquerque’s north valley.

Acequia is a Spanish word for an irrigation ditch. These ditches carry water past gates that control the flow of water (a precious resource here in the arid southwestern United States). The acequia gates are not just useful - they are also fascinating. Some are wooden, some metal, all are controlled with simple wheels and levers. The old designs still work well. Landowners with water rights can divert water from the acequia onto their fields. The rights to use this water are highly prized. Don’t forget this is the west and they don’t take kindly to water rustlers!

An old acequia gate

A control wheel for an acequia gate

Now, on first thought an irrigation ditch may not sound charming but picture this – a winding path shaded by century-old cottonwood trees along small canals filled with gently flowing water. The path curves and meanders past horse pastures, barns, and adobe walls brimming with vines. 

There are also traditional New Mexico-style homes, open fields, and interesting sights around every bend.

The rustling sound in the bushes along the path are fat summer lizards scooting around. There is also the sound of birds, including the loud cry of the peacocks that live in a large pen along one section of the path. How beautiful to see them fan out their tails. The path is not crowded, but there are hikers, dog walkers, and even the occasional biker passing by.

This is definitely not the wall surrounding Lucca that I love so much, and getting to the acequia does involve a 20-minute drive. And yet, it gives me some of the same feeling that I love in Italy – beautiful views, a feeling of community with other walkers, and fascinating sights and sounds.          -post by JB