Frolic & Detour

Our Last Night in Rome

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 22:14:00 +0000

Tonight we joined the students and other teachers in the Loyola/CUA Rome program to say goodbye to Rome.

We are anxious to see everyone back in Baltimore (especially Dijle), but we are sad to be leaving our home on Baloney Alley:

As we learned when we left Belgium, in such situations mixed feelings are the best possible scenario: sad to be leaving where you are, but happy to be returning to where you were.

And now for a little sleep, before our 5:30 AM cab to the airport.

--Fritz

Defend the Fort

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 08:11:00 +0000

Two days ago my dad and I went to Castel Sant Angelo. First we went through a tunnel that led to the mausoleum of the Emperor Hadrian. Then we went into the mausoleum.

Then we saw the urns that the burnt emperors were put in, but I am yet to be burnt.

This is what they would shoot at enemies.Then we got a nice view.

Then we got a nicer view.
Then we got the best view.
Then we saw the angel on top and he was really big.
Then we saw the angel that was on top first. He was a better fighter.

Then my dad, being my dad, had to go into every church he sees, and the Medici chapel counted.

Then we went on the wall.

Then we saw a blacksmiths shop that, of course, had a cannon.

Then we saw the she-wolf graffitied on the side of the Tiber.
Then I was Romulus.

Denis

Sunrise Over Rome

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 16:39:00 +0000

Early this morning, I was woken from a dream of a delicious baklava-like dessert in order to climb the great Gianicolo and photograph the sunrise. My dad and I went together and we were both a little daunted by the clouds in the East (and West, for that matter), but they turned out to be quite the addition to our pictures.

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

**Sophie

Requiem: The Graveyard at San Miniato

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 17:49:00 +0000

As I mentioned in the post about our visit to Florence, one thing we did was to hike up to the church of San Mineato. While there, we spent some time looking around the graveyeard, which is filled with remarkable monumental tombs. What is remarkable is not so much the artistic quality -- indeed, some boarder on the kitschy -- but the eloquent outpouring of emotion they represent in both word and image.

Looking through them, one senses the joys and sorrows that constituted these lives, as well as the joys and sorrows of those they left behind.

And in some of them one gains a palpable sense of clinging to Christ in faith.

--Fritz

FREAK JOB!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 20:57:00 +0000

for M

Firenze

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 13:38:00 +0000

We made a quick overnight trip to Florence on Thursday and Friday, trying to cram in a last little bit of Italian culture. Our first stop was Santa Maria Novella, which contains Masaccio's stunning Trinity fresco. It also contains a less well known set of frescoes by Filipino Lippi, one of which includes a charming depiction of a dragon farting:
We then went by the Orsanmichele -- a former grain storage facility that over time morphed into a church. In keeping with the dragon theme, we admired Donatello's St. George: We also puzzled over this image that was part of a set depicting the various guilds in the city:
At first we thought it might be for the brain surgeons' guild, and this was some sort of primitive brain surgery done with a pick. But then we realized that the child was a statue and that this was for the stone carvers.

After this we went to the Science Museum. Unfortunately, most of it was closed for refurbishing. We did get to see the exhibit on Galileo's telescope, as well as this cool clock:

We also stopped by Dante's house:

Near it is the church he attended, where his Beatrice is buried. There are baskets of petitions by her grave; I guess she's been informally canonized:

After lunch we went to the Duomo area, first passing by a workshop where they repair and make reproductions of the Cathedral's sculptures:
Maureen and the children climbed the Dome; I thought I'd give my creaky old knees a rest:

We went to the much under-appreciated Museo del Opera del Duomo, that has many of the original sculptures from the Duomo, baptistry and campanile:A personal favorite of me and Maureen is Donatello's prophet Habakkuk, known as Il Zuccone or, more or less, "Pumpkin Head":

Also by Donatello is his harrowing Mary Magdalene, which depicts her near the end of her life, after years in the desert:

The museum also contains Ghiberti's original panels from the east doors of the baptisty, which Michelangelo dubbed "The Gates of Paradise":

A personal favorite is this depiction of John the Evangelist, that looks strikingly like Russ Eidson, my friend from highschool:

Footsore and filled to the brim with culture, we retired to our hotel, the wonderful Nuova Italia run by the Viti family. It was where we stayed when we would bring students from Belgium and it was nice to be able to come back to a semi-familiar place. Unfourtunately, the street was torn up with sewer work and there was an, um, distict odor in the air outside.

For dinner Denis got the biggest Florentine steak you've ever seen. Thomas and I split one.

The next day we started out at the Uffizi, which is overwhelming. By the end of two-and-a-half hours we were punch-drunk with art. They don't allow you to take pictures of the paintings, so we bought postcards and took pictures of them:

In order to counteract the effects of too much art, the family did the Hokey Pokey on the Ponte Veccio (or at least that's what it looks like):

On the other side of the Arno river, Thomas got pasta with lobster for lunch, which he approved of:We also discovered a Pinocchio shop:We spent the afternoon walking up to the church of San Miniato, which provided the great views of the city:The church itself is very nice, and has a very cool graveyard, that I'll blog about separately:Back in Florence in the early evening, we did a bit of street shopping:

And Sophie and Denis and I took a quick look inside the Duomo baptistry, which has a spectaular ceiling:After a quick dinner, we caught our train back to Rome, just a little bit tired.

--Fritz

Wonderful, revolting cheese

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 07:25:00 +0000

Just thought we'd share with you the repulsive-looking lump of thoroughly delicious cheese we had for breakfast this morning -- a "rustic" goat cheese that was wonderful once you took a deep breath and convinced yourself to put something that icky and slimey-looking in your mouth. Mmmm.

Maureen

San Clemente

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 19:47:00 +0000

This past week I had an opportunity to do twice something I had not yet done during our current stay in Rome: visit the church of San Clemente. Last Friday Maureen, Denis and I went with our friend Marianne, and again today Denis, Thomas, Sophie and I went with Laura Flusche's Roman Art and Architecture class.

San Clemente is perhaps my favorite church in Rome, in part because it is something of a metaphor for the city itself. The church, named for the fourth Pope, was built around 1100 on top of a 4th century church (also called San Clemente) that had been burned by the Normans, and then filled with dirt and rubble to form the site of the new church. That 4th century church was itself build over 1st century ruins, containing a warehouse and a house that, probably in the 2nd century, had been turned into a center for the cult of the god Mithras. It was not until the late 19th century that the Irish Dominicans who staff the church figured out that the original church must be under the one from the 1100s and began excavating.

It's all somewhat hard to picture, but its a bit like going on a trip back through time as you descend though the layers. One gets a bit of a sense of just how long Rome has been around and how its exists layer upon layer. I hope these photos will give some impression of what it's like.

The entry to San Clemente from the street.

Inside the atrium, which offered a respite from the busy medieval streets before entering the church.

The interior of the church built in the 1100s, now somewhat baroquified.

The spectacular apse of the upper church.

A crucifix in the upper church.

The excavation of the 4th century church (with a restored 19th century altar).

To support the church built in the 1100s, supporting walls were built around the columns in the ruins of the 4th century before it was filled in.

A fresco from the 1000s in the remains of the 4th century church, painted not too long before it was burned, depicting St. Clement.

Also in the 4th-century excavations is the grave of Leonard Boyle, OP, former prefect of the Vatican Library and, more importantly, one of the few people in the world who could read Thomas Aquinas' handwriting!

Down on the 1st century level: the altar to the god Mithras.

Dr. Laura Flusche, teaching in the first century.

--Fritz

Uncle Clayt gets the last word

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 06:55:00 +0000

A last poetic word from Uncle Clayt, who left with Papa/Dad this morning after a great visit:

Stalking yellow cat

A pigeon feast eludes him

Dry cat food for him

Beautiful poem

Words of such grace and beauty

Even Denis weeps

CAS, Jr.

Haiku-off

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 16:28:00 +0000

My father and brother, the Claytons Sweeney, are here with us for a few days. We have had a great time taking them around Rome and sharing with them things that we have learned. Sophie gave a terrific tour of the Baths of Caracalla, and Denis did a great explanation of the interesting things we've learned about the Pantheon (like despite the fact that it says on the front of it "Agrippa made this," Agrippa didn't make it -- Hadrian did; and other even more interesting facts).

Clayt (Jr.) is staying with us, and this morning, inspired by the haikus on our homeschool wall, he composed this haiku about the scene off our terrace:

Rooftop oven racks
Romans watch cooking shows?
Or cook with TV?
CAS, Jr.

When he came back in, he was further inspired to write a couple more haikus about Denis' morning, and Denis then replied. The result was the following exchange. Maybe you can figure out who wrote which parts.

Denis Morning
by Clayton Sweeney, Jr. and Denis Bauerschmidt Sweeney

Chimp child does not eat
Differently directed
Energy won't last.

Chocolate chimp breakfast
Sandwiched apple rosetta
Half eaten, half worn.

Chimp be greatest one.
He pwns at all, everything.
Go super-chimp-guy.

Uncle not inspired
He won't write anymore nonsense
Mom make me eat now.

Uninspired Uncle
Who generates entropy
Cannot focus chimp.

Writer stinks at all
Except the one who writes this,
Stanza 3 and 4.

Bu-a-ha-ha-ha
Chimp child plots uncle's demise.
Uncle lays in wait.

I win cause of arms.
I will bash out your stanzas.
Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Uncle-allied parents
Give uncle an advantage.
Chimp child must find sock.

No sock? I don't care.
I battle socks or no socks.
I am without fear.

Now we fight again
Fight again at the Forum.
Again I shall win.

Slightly focused chimp
Energy without limit
Venit, me vincit.

Sissy-ful uncle
He runs at the sight of me
Victorious chimp.

The haiku-athon continued through the morning and through the city as we visited the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, and the Colosseum. A selection:

Walking past a ruin
Pantheon, not Parthenon
Squashed bird in the road.
CAS, Jr.

Pigeons peck at bread.
They can never finish it
For they only peck.
DJBS

Italiano
Io mangio, mangio, mangio.
Mi faccio grasso.
CAS, Jr.

The warmth of the stone
Feels good to the hand and touch
On a windy day.
DJBS

Throbbing feet and back
Pizza salves the savage beast.
Chimp not beast, not salved.
CAS, Jr.

Doric, Ionic
Corinthian columnae
Don't fall on my head.
CAS, Jr.

Salivating chimp
A dead enemy smells good.
Chimp boy uncle breath.
CAS, Jr.

Uncle stinks haiku
Chimp is the god of haiku
Who is the winner?
DJBS

You get the idea. In the end, Clayt Sr., also known as Papa/Dad, even joined in:
Now it is my turn
To laugh and cry and speak now.
Two can play this game.
CAS, Sr.

We hope you have enjoyed this literary moment, brought to you by the American Association of English Majors, who remind you how much fun literature can be.

Maureen

Sorrento

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 19:20:00 +0000

We spent the weekend before last (the 29th and the 30th) in the town of Sorrento, on the southern tip of the Bay of Naples. We piled onto a bus at eight thirty in the morning, greeted by everyone's favorite busdriver, Giuseppe, and headed off on a three hour bus ride to Naples. We arrived in Naples, and spent a whirlwind six hours seeing as much as we could (see my dad's post below for more details). We then got back on the bus for a two hour drive to Sorrento. Driving around the bay, we saw one of the more beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. As we wound our way along the streets, shifting between closely packed houses and scenic views of the Mediterranean with the sun sinking lower and lower, reflecting bright orange off the water, we were informed by David Dawson-Vasquez, the program director, that there was an Irish pub and a karaoke night at another local bar.

We checked into the hotel, and were told we had a half hour until dinner. The half hour was largely spent discovering that we all had balconies that connected to each other. When we were finished on the balcony, it was time for dinner, so we all headed up to the dining room, where I sat with three of the students, Tom, AJ, and Betsy. Denis sat at a table with three other students, and Sophie decided to stay with our parents. Dinner was a huge, multi-course affair, consisting of pasta, chicken, potatoes and dessert. As dinner drew to a close, I asked if I could go with the students to the karaoke bar. They said sure, and so a half hour or so later, we all followed David into town.

It turned out that there wasn't actually karaoke that night, but we had a good time anyway. The next morning, we woke up and went to Pompeii (See Denis' entry below for more details). When we came back, we decided not to try and catch a ferry to the nearby island of Capri, and instead enjoyed a leisurely lunch with David, and then went for a walk down to the shore. While Denis only got a little wet playing in the sand, Sophie felt a need to wade into the painfully cold Mediterranean, and got her pants thoroughly wet before we went into town to look at some of the inlaid woodwork that Sorrento is famous for. We then went to Mass in one of the coldest churches I have ever been in. Despite the cold, Sophie, Denis, and I all kept nodding off during the homily. After Mass, we went back to the hotel in time for Sophie to change, and went up to dinner.

At dinner, our family dispersed among the students. Tom, Betsy, and I were once again sitting at the same table, and we were joined towards the end of the meal by Sophie. After dinner, we went back to our rooms, where we watched part of a House episode, dubbed in Italian. I then went down to another room, and hung out with the students for a few hours, while the rest of my family went to sleep.

The next morning, we woke up, ate breakfast, and went to the bufala farm (see Sophie's entry below for more details),before turning home.As we drove back to Rome, I realized how much I had enjoyed the last few days. I don't know if it was the beautiful, peaceful town, or the fact that I was able to hang out with people who were not family members, spoke English, and were between the ages of fifteen and thirty, or some of both, but I think that it was the best couple of days I have spent since we came to Italy.

Thomas

Bufala (squeal!)

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 16:02:00 +0000

Last weekend, we went (on the way back from the Bay of Naples) to a "Bufala" farm, where water buffalo are raised and their milk is used to make bufala mozzarella.

Our tour began in the last stages of the mozzarella making process, then moved back, so we went first to the room where the milk is turned into cheese and the cheese is salted and packaged. After that, we moved on to the animals, where Denis got sneezed on by a buffalo.

Every time we moved on to a new group of animals, a large number of the college students (always girls, I believe) squealed. First we saw the milkable cows- buffalo cows, not the black and white variety (squeal). After that, we saw the pregnant cows (slightly louder squeal) and the first time pregnant cows (still louder and shriller squeal).

Next came the 6 month old babies (squeals so loud and frequent that the poor buffalo were rather startled), then the 3- to 15-day-olds (you guessed it- squeals).
After the buffalo, we visited the piglets, then sat down to a huge and delicious lunch (consisting, as all proper Italian meals do, of an appetizer, pasta course, meat course, and desert).

After lunch, we got to wander around for a while (Denis and I raced through a field of knee high grass and visited the horses and donkeys), then we got back on the bus and left.

**Sophie

Pompeii

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 14:24:00 +0000

When we went to see Pompeii with my dad's students and Dr. Flusche the ancient art and architecture teacher. We first went to the large theatre which was used for plays. Most theatres used for plays had a fake palace facade so it would set the scene for many of the plays. Then we went to the small theatre which was used for musical performances. After that we went to an ancient bar. The wine sure had fermented. Then we went to the door of a big house of a senator. Then Dr. Flusche told us about how being an ancient Roman senator was like being an ancient Tony Soprano. When you do somone a favor they owe you a favor. Then we went to the forum. It was alot like the forum in Rome but much smaller (and if Vesuvius erupts and you want to watch, go there). Finally we went to the house of the fawn. It was really big.

Denis, The Buried in Ash Majority of Doom

Naples

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 04:45:00 +0000

We did a number of things on our trip south with the Loyola/CUA students, and I'll let others in the family fill in some parts, but I thought I'd say a few quick things about our afternoon in Naples.

Naples has a reputation in Italy as. . . well. . . excessive. Everything Rome is, particularly the negative things, are supposedly magnified in Naples: big, dirty, noisy, bustling etc.

It's hard to judge a city on a single afternoon, but it certainly felt different from Rome -- more Mediterranean, I suppose. Maureen said that with its crowded, narrow, chaotic streets it had an almost third world feel too it. I'm sure the Neapolitans wouldn't like that characterization, but something about it rang true to me.
We arrived in the late morning and did a quick walking tour of the historic center, including a palace that the Jesuits (naturally) had turned into a church.
We had a lunch of unbelievably good pizza (a Neapolitan invention) that made Denis sad because he said that now he would never like pizza in America again. Then we browsed in the various shops, which had peculiar Punch (as in Punch and Judy) figures that we supposed to bring good luck (this one apparently brings pizza as well), strange figurines that seemed to be people being consumed in the fires of hell, and the famous Neapolitan Christmas creche figurines, including US presidential candidate to put next to baby Jesus.
Late in the afternoon we toured the incredible collection in the Archaeological Museum, ably guided by Dr. Laura Flusche, who teaches art and architecture to the Loyola/CUA students in Rome.

The Museum contained many artifacts from the Baths of Caracalla in Rome, which were expropriated by the Farnese family in the 16th century and eventually ended up in Naples. Particularly striking were two sculptures of young boys running

and the famous Farnese Bull:

The other highlights were the artifacts from Pompeii. Particularly magnificent was the mosaic of Alexander the Great defeating Darius of Persia.

After that we headed off around the Bay of Naples, seeing some of the famous Neapolitan garbage along the way. We arrived in Sorrento and continued our adventures, but I'll let someone else tell that part of the story.

--Fritz

More Popery

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 19:41:00 +0000

Our friend Marianne Servaas has been visiting from Belgium and today she and I went to the memorial Mass in St. Peter's square for the third anniversary of John Paul II's death. I think after the Easter Vigil the rest of the family is Poped out for the time being. In any case, the Mass was quite moving and very simple. . . or as simple as a Mass with 50,000 people can be. Whatever one thought of him (and I rather liked him, myself), John Paul was a larger-than-life figure and one worth remembering (and praying for, like all of us). I also always like being surrounded by the vast, diverse sea of Catholicism. Communion seemed more chaotic than usual and I was feeling pretty grumpy about that. But then I saw a young Asian man coming back from communion with tears streaming down his face. On the presumption that he wasn't crying because someone had stomped on his foot in the communion scrum, but rather in gratitude for what he had received, it made me appreciate the event despite the communion chaos.

Here's an AP photo of the event:

I've searched the faces in the crowd, and I'm pretty sure I don't appear. But I swear I was there.

--Fritz

Whew!

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 20:55:00 +0000

We are back from a whirlwind trip to parts south, following immediately on the heels of Culture Week here in Rome.

Culture Week is a week-long celebration of Italian culture that happens every year. All week long, museums and other cultural places and events are free, and special exhibits, tours and shows are put on. We did our best to take advantage of the free-ness and the extra opportunities, despite the fact that there is NO PUBLICITY about this. We were able to find exactly one brochure online (a pdf of the only brochure I ever saw in person) that listed events, and there was not a single sign anywhere in this city. I guess they don't want people going too crazy for the free-ness of it all, and they certainly don't want the tourists hearing about it.

Well, here's a quick rundown of the things some or all of us did (for free!) to celebrate Culture Week:

* an excellent English language tour of the Capitoline Museums of antiquities (where we saw, among other things, the original Etruscan she-wolf statue that has become the symbol of the city of Rome -- after little baby Romulus and Remus were added thousands of years later);

*an excellent Italian language tour, by the exact same guide and in a cold rainy wind, of 5 or 6 of the aqueducts just outside town;

*a visit to the Museum of Rome in Trastevere, which had lots of interesting photos of Trastevere (our neighborhood) over the last century and a terrific collection of really fabulous watercolors of Rome at the turn of the 20th century by a man named Ettore Roesler Franz;

*a guided tour of the "secret" gardens at the Borghese Gallery (given in Italian by a woman named Beth from Ohio);

*a visit to the optical illusion collonade created by the architect Borromini (it's actually 12 meters long but looks very convincingly 35 meters -- very cool);

*a visit to the Balbi Crypt, which shows the development of a Rome neighborhood from ancient to modern times;

*a visit to Castel Sant'Angelo, the pope's personal castle, after a climb with our Baltimore friends Ben and Harry Chello and Laurie Feinberg to the top of the dome of St. Peter's (which didn't count for culture week because it wasn't free, but was still way cool on a crystal clear day);

* a nighttime visit to the Capitoline Museum to sketch; and

* a (very late!) nighttime visit to the Ara Pacis, Emperor Augustus' Altar of Peace.

This was all in only 4 days, because we then left with the students for a trip to Naples, Pompeii and Sorrento, where we got into other things for free with the whole group. I'll let somebody else tell you about that great trip.

So, just thought you'd like to know that despite the disastrous fall of the dollar, we're getting our money's worth here -- or at least we did last week! Now I need to go to bed to recover.

-- Maureen

The Aqueducts

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 15:50:00 +0000

Did you know that...

The first aqueduct was built in 312 B.C.

Every kilometer that an aqueduct went forward, it went down only one meter.

Once the arcade was built, when the top part of the aqueduct wore out, they would build a new one on top.

People that lived along an aqueduct but got none of the water would steal the water from the aqueducts.

If there was too much water in an aqueduct they would open something a bit like a pressure valve.

Most of an aqueduct was under ground.

To cross a valley, the Romans would let the water run down the mountain side, go into an above ground aqueduct then use momentum to go into the pipe on the other side of the valley.

All the technology was lost in the middle ages, so they built a pit in the ground.

A Bit Of Work

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Mon, 24 Mar 2008 12:18:00 +0000

This is a report I, I repeat, I did on Marco Polo, I repeat, Marco Polo, a major Italian trader.

The Adventures of Marco Polo

“Marco!” shouts one child. “Polo!” shout the rest. Is this what we have Marco Polo to thank for? The flat answer is no. Marco Polo was an explorer who went from Venice overland to China and surrounding areas including Mongolia.

Marco Polo was born in 1254 and died in 1324, both in Venice. In Marco Polo’s time the Mongols were very powerful, so Marco Polo’s father and uncle went to trade with Kublai Kahn, the Mongols’ ruler. The Kahn grew so fond of the Polo brothers that as they were leaving, he made them promise to return with a letter from the pope and 100 experts on Christianity. (The Kahn was interested in Christianity though he wasn’t Christian.)

At the age of seventeen Marco Polo set out with his father uncle and two friars, to trade again with and return to Kublai Kahn. Part way through the journey the frightened friars ran away. Marco Polo stayed in the Kahn’s court seventeen years. At the age of 34 he had spent half his life in the Kahn’s court. He served as the Mongolian ambassador. The Kahn grew sick and Polo knew that if the Kahn died he would be in danger, so he convinced the Kahn to let him visit his family and to escort a new princess to Persia. Then they got the news that the Kahn had died so they went to Venice permanently.

When Marco Polo returned to Venice, he got caught up in a war against Genoa. He was captured and in prison he told his prison mate, Rustichello, a writer, about his tales. Rustichello and he wrote a book.

Most of the information about Marco Polo came from the book he wrote. There have been proven to be many false things in the book, like a unicorn with huge spikes on its tongue. Some doubt he even went to China. However, most information from the journal is true.
Is Marco Polo still irrelevant-seeming? Well, if Marco Polo hadn’t made his trip to Mongolia, then explorers and traders wouldn’t have gone to Asia nearly as much. Christopher Columbus wouldn’t have tried to sail around the world to India and would have never discovered the Americas. So what about now?

Denis

Easter Vigil at the Vatican

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 10:53:00 +0000

Last night we went to the Easter Vigil at St. Peter's, which is a good thing since this morning it is raining buckets, along with thunder and lightning. I feel for the crowds gathered outside in St. Peter's Square for Easter Sunday Mass right now.

We arrived at the Vatican around 7:00 and took our place in a long line.
We got inside around 8:30 (the door opened around 7:30).
We were seated behind the High Altar, so our view was less than ideal. But we were quite close and could see the Pope (from behind) very well during the liturgy of the Eucharist.

For you Church-geeks out there, here are a few things that struck me:

Our candles were not actually lighted from the new fire, but by the butane lighters of the ushers. The kids -- and Maureen and I -- thought this was extremely cheesey. I would think that with a little planning they could have figured out a way to spread the fire even in a place as big as St. Peter's.
When the lights came up after the third "Lumen Christi," we had just gotten our candles lighted. Suddenly it was like we're under interrogation (the lights in St. Peter's are really bright).
The Deacon did a great job chanting the Exultet (not so great on the Gospel -- too sloooooow), and, since it was in Latin, we got the mention of the bees that are (inexplicably) omitted in the English translation:
Therefore on this sacred night, receive, O holy Father, the evening sacrifice, which thy holy Church by the hands of her ministers presents to thee in the solemn offering of this wax candle made out of the labor of bees. And now we know the excellence of this pillar, which the bright fire lights for the honor of God. Which fire, though now divided, suffers no loss from the communication of its light. Because it is fed by the melted wax, which the mother bee wrought for the substance of this precious lamp.
There were six readings (four OT, the Epistle and the Gospel), each in a different language: German, Spanish, English, French, Italian and Latin . Three of the six readers were women, which for some reason was very striking to me -- hearing women's voices amidst all that testosterone.
The music was OKish -- a premium seemed to be put on congregational participation, so most of it was quite simple. I noticed that congregational participation seemed to decrease once the (very loud -- at least where we were) organ kicked in at the Gloria.
The most excruciating moment was during the lighting of the altar candles at the Gloria: it took forever -- the poor guy was still trying to light them well into the Epistle -- and we were on the edge of our seats wondering if he would get them all lit. I felt like applauding when he got the last one done.
Since my Italian is pretty minimal, so I only caught parts of the homily, but I've since read a translation and it was impressive.
Unfortunately, we couldn't see the baptisms, which are always my favorite part of the Vigil, but we did catch a glimpse of the neophytes was they brought the gifts of bread and wine to the altar. Apparently one of them is a prominent (non-practicing) Muslim in Rome, but nothing was made of this during the liturgy itself, which is a good thing. No reason to indulge in triumphalism (as opposed to celebrating the triumph of Christ over death).
They didn't sprinkle us with the baptismal water, which was disappointing. As with the fire, I would think there would be a way to work this out even in a place as large as St. Peter's.
As a deacon, I was interested to see a couple of special diaconal lines in the liturgy. Just before the Pope intoned (in a quavery but somehow moving voice) the Easter before the Gospel, the Deacon chanted (in Latin): "Most blessed Father, I announce to you a great joy, which is "Alleluia." And at the sign of peace he said, "In the Spirit of Christ, who is risen from the dead, offer each other the sign of peace." I don't know if these are peculiarly Papal things or are elements of the 2002 Missal that will appear with the new English translation, but I like them (I'm always for enhancing the Deacon's lines).
Communion, as always seems to be the case at Papal Masses, seemed a pretty rushed affair, with a disorganized scrum of people surging forward to the army of priests who are distributing communion. Ah well, it's still Christ's body and blood.

As we left, we admired St. Peter's Square all decorated for Sunday Mass.

I can only imagine how it looks on this soggy morning.

--Fritz

Good Friday

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 17:03:00 +0000

Maureen and I brgan our Good Friday by going to Morning Prayer at the church of San Giorgio in Velabro. It was a small crowd of less than 20 and we sang psalms and scripture, included the Lamentations of Jeremiah (a traditional part of Tenebrae). A bit of a capella chanting in a simple early medieval church is a perfect way to set the tone for Good Friday.

Then we decided that we should make the kids suffer a little by dragging them around to churches.

We went to St. John Lateran, which is the only of the four major basilicas that we had not yet visited. The original structure was built by Constantine in the 4th century, but was given a baroque makeover by Borromini in the 17th.

Including a cool-gross statue of St. Bartholomew holding his own skin (he was flayed to death).
It still has its gothic baldichino over the high altar,
and a 13th century apse mosaic.

It (and not, as most people presume, St. Peter's) is the cathedral for the city of Rome and so contains the Pope's cathedra or throne.

We also looked in the Baptistry, which was also built by Constantine, and was where every Roman was baptized during the 4th century:

The baptistry has some great mosaics:

Then we went to Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, which was build on the site of a palace belonging to Constantine's mother, Helena, and which contains several relics associated with the Passion, including the plaque hung above Jesus' head by Pilate, as well as several pieces of the cross that Helena brought back with her from Jesrusalem. It's often hard to know what to make of such claims, but the devotion of the people there was certainly real, and who is to say that they are not genuine.

We then went to the little oratory of St. Francis Xavier, where we joined in the Good Friday liturgy. Aside from a slightly flimsy cross for the veneration, it was very nice. While there we ran into Clare Pratt, whom we had known over 20 years ago in Houston. She has been in Rome for the past 15 years working for her order (the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus), most recently as Superior General. It's a small, small world. I figure that if I can run into someone in Rome that I knew two decades ago and half a world away, then perhaps relics of the true cross making their way to Rome is not so far-fetched after all.

--Fritz

bIRTHDAY bLOG

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 12:11:00 +0000

We have been celebrating my thirteenth birthday for the past three days, so I will give you a quick description of each day.

We celebrated on the 17th because I wanted to celebrate in Belgium with our friends there and we were leaving that afternoon. We celebrated with chocolate cake (made by my friend Bethany with a little help from me and her sister Lisa) and a couple small gifts (a block of belgian chocolate and a book on drawing flowers with the instructions in Flemish).

There was some controversy over which day my birthday was because I was born at 6:18 p.m. on March 18th in Baltimore, which is 12:18 a.m. on March 19th in Rome. Unable to choose, we decided to celebrate on both days. On the 18th, we went out to lunch at a delicious restaurant nearby. Later that day, my mom made panekoeken (which are like Belgian crepes filled with sugar) as best she could without a recipe.

The final day of celebration, the 19th, was an ordinary day until dinnertime. For dinner we had pasta preceded by typical Roman fried zucchini flowers. They are fairly simple, but still quite a production to make. Here is how:

(1) Mix bread crumbs with one egg (the mixture is supposed to be crumbl rather than eggy, so you don't need much egg) and some salt and pepper.

(2) Gently fill the flowers with the bread crumb mixture and set them aside.

(3) Heat a lot of oil in a pan, but don't let it get so hot that it smokes.

(4) Fill a shallow bowl with flour and another one with a couple of well beaten eggs.

(5) Roll each flower first in the flour, then in the egg, making sure all of the outside of the flower is covered in both flour and egg.

(6) Put the flowers in the pan of oil and let them fry until they are lightly browned.

They have to be served fresh, so put them on a plate with several layers of paper towel and cover them until you are ready to eat them.

We finished the evening by staying up til midnight to watch The Matrix (which Denis and I had never seen before). Overall, my three birthdays were highly satisfactory.

Sophie

Are You the Bwaaaaain Specialist?

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 10:54:00 +0000

The Original:

Thomas as Mr. Gumby:

And Maureen ponders her son's future.

-- Fritz

We're back and Sophie's 13!

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 07:01:00 +0000

Faithful readers, we apologize for our long absence. We spent last week visiting friends and old familiar places in Leuven, Belgium.

It is always bittersweet for us to be in Leuven, because we love the place and the people so much, and for a while it was home for us. Denis, who was delighted with how much he remembered -- both of places and of his Dutch -- was having a hard time sorting out these happy/sad/wistful emotions one night, so we had a great conversation about the meaning of the word nostalgic.

We had a warm and wonderful welcome from old friends like the Servaas-Miller family, Christel Snels and her family, and our dear friend Rada Arsanukaeva and her family, as well as others who patiently allowed us to practice both our English and our Dutch with them as we caught up with each other. One highlight was an invitation to dinner from Molly and John Berger, the current residents of our old home at Begijnhof 19. We had a great time, though the children complained that the house had gotten smaller than it used to be.

We had one day of sightseeing. Fritz, Denis, Sophie, Nathan and Bethany Miller and I went to Gent and visited the Gravensteen castle, a crusader-style castle that has been wonderfully restored and sparks many fantasies. It even got Sophie to pick out the weapons she would take with her on her quest. She looks all pacifist and all, but keep you might want to keep your eye on her and see if you can see where she's hidden her dagger. Nathan and Denis, of course, conquered the castle while we were there, so we knew we were in good hands.

The other thing we did in Gent (besides eating some good Flemish frietjes and mayonnaise)

was to spend a lovely time visiting the van Eyck masterpiece The Mystic Adoration of the Lamb altarpiece. It is truly one of the masterworks of the Flemish "Primitive" painters of the 15th century (from whom the Italians learned the technique of oil painting), and it is beyond my linguistic powers to describe. All I can say is, if you're ever in the neighborhood, definitely make the effort to see it. This portrayal of the heavenly garden has many amazing details, but our friend Bethany was most struck by how much the heavenly city in the background looks like Flanders. Go figger. Here are the children climbing into the laps of the van Eyck brothers outside the cathedral.

We began celebrating Sophie's 13th birthday on the 17th of March so that we could do it with the Servaas-Miller family before we left Belgium, and we continued upon our return to Rome, where we had a great lunch at a local trattoria yesterday (the 18th). There is some confusion about which day actually counts as Sophie's birthday here, because she was born at 6:18 pm on March 18th in Baltimore, but with the time difference, that would be 12:18 am on March 19th here. Then Fritz starts to throw in daylight savings time, and things get really confused. Our solution is to keep celebrating, and we will have a special dinner of fresh pasta and fried zucchini flowers tonight just to make sure we cover our bases.

We hope that you are all well and wish you a wonderful Holy Week. I'm sure we'll let you know about ours here in the Eternal City....

Maureen

Nothing to Blog

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Mon, 10 Mar 2008 13:44:00 +0000

I have been told to blog but I can't think of anything.

This is my case that there is nothing to blog:

All I've done in the past three days is read three books. They were good books called The Roman Mysteries but still -- Sophie is the only one that normally reads like that. I would suggest them. They are about four kids in 1st century Rome who solve mysteries.
I also did some schoolwork.
The only other fun thing I did was watch the completely not over the top movie "Live Free or Die Hard." The only crazy thing that happened was that one guy first kills three people with big guns with one pistol and gets shot once then takes out a helicopter with a car and gets shot again. Takes out another helicopter with a fire hydrant. Then gets shot twice and then jumps onto a moving jet plane. Then shoots the bad guy through himself.

So life isn't so great in Rome.

Denis, the Majority

P.S.

It is actually great, just got to appreciate it.

Sunday Morning in Trastevere

noreply@blogger.com (Frederick (Fritz) Bauerschmidt) — Sun, 09 Mar 2008 07:13:00 +0000

Trastevere has in the last few years gone from being a working class neighborhood to being something of a nightspot -- for you Baltimorons, sort of like Canton, or maybe Hampden. After Friday and Saturday nights, the street, in addition to the usual omnipresent dog poop, is littered with bottles and other debris. So how do we clean up our tiny little streets after a hard weekend of revelry?

With tiny little streetcleaning trucks:

Will Roman ingenuity never cease?

--Fritz

Frolic & Detour

Our Last Night in Rome

Defend the Fort

Sunrise Over Rome

Requiem: The Graveyard at San Miniato

FREAK JOB!!!

Firenze

Wonderful, revolting cheese

San Clemente

Uncle Clayt gets the last word

Haiku-off

Sorrento

Bufala (*squeal!*)

Pompeii

Naples

More Popery

Whew!

The Aqueducts

A Bit Of Work

Easter Vigil at the Vatican

Good Friday

bIRTHDAY bLOG

Are You the Bwaaaaain Specialist?

We're back and Sophie's 13!

Nothing to Blog

Sunday Morning in Trastevere

Bufala (squeal!)