Sunday, August 17 2015
It is one of the most disconcerting experiences to return somewhere a strong memory was created and be unable to reconstruct the memory with what is in front of you. So I felt this afternoon when I tried to find Sant' Eligio degli Orefici, the goldsmith's church. Bill and I attended Mass there our last Sunday in Rome on our last visit there, perhaps fifteen years ago, even twenty.
The day began with my rising at 6:00 a.m. to get to the Janiculum Hill in time to make Mass at San Pietro in Montorio, next to Bramante's Tempietto and the Real Academia de Espana. I walked in, passing a local who was the lector during the Mass. I sat myself in the front row, as no one else was in the church: I cannot understand worshipers who cluster in the back of the church, as far from the priest as possible, as if they were afraid of him. I want to hear what is said, particularly because it is in a foreign language. If I'm far away, I have no hope of making out what is said, so I sit as close to the altar as possible.
By 8:00 a.m. there are only a few more worshipers in the church, perhaps ten in all, all seated in the back. The priest looks like a product of the mezzogiorno --he is walnut-skinned, from Sicily or Naples, perhaps. Yet he speaks a clear Italian, and I understand most of what he says about the value of the Eucharist as a communal meal, not a magic trick, not just a purification.
By 9:00 a.m. I am back at the apartment, and it has just begun to rain. It is so cool now --so long as I have the shutters and windows wide open. However, they are so large that when they are opened, the room --which tends to bottle up heat-- quickly cools down. I latch the shutter and keep the windows open and take a nap for two hours.
When I awake I feed myself the third course of yesterday's ferragosto meal, which tastes delicious. By then it is noon and I am out, headed towards Sant'Agata in Trastevere, one of the churches on my list.
No one knows where it is, though, even though I have the address. Off Viale Trastevere, though, I find San Francesco a Ripa, the street that leads to Santa Maria in Trastevere, the next church on my list. Although when I arrive, it is closed until after lunch. Nonetheless, I get to see the beautiful mosaics on the exterior, above the colonnade.
I turn around and go back to Viale Trastevere, set on taking a trip down memory lane and finding the goldsmith's church, the hotel Bill and I stayed in and La Bocca della Verita, all within easy walking distance of each other, as I recall. In front of me is Sant' Agata, which is the way it is in Rome.
After stopping in Sant' Agata and picking up some information about the people associated with it who are in the running for Vatican recognition whether by being venerable, beatified or canonized, I walk to the Tiber. When I reach the Tiber I turn right and proceed along the lungoteveri on the Trastevere side of the river: Lungotevere Anguillara, Lungotevere Alberteschi, past Ponte Garibaldi and Ponte Cestio, and crossing the Tiber at Ponte Palatino. This area is another of my favorites in Rome, perhaps because the spaces are open, the streets wide and the buildings and ruins set apart from each other, creating a dignified effect. I easily catch sight of Santa Maria in Cosmedin: there is a long line of tourists waiting to have their photos taken in front of the famous man-hole. There is no line to enter the Byzantine basilica.
As I enter, a guard tells me my shorts --which go half-way down my thighs-- are too short. He points to plastic bin with lightweight white sheets of synthetic material to indicate that I have to cover my legs. I wrap the sheet around my waist sari-style, and go in.
The church was an old granary, as the height of the ceiling and its plain wooden beams attest. The mosaics of saints are Eastern in style and there are hanging lamps, as would be the case in any Eastern rite church. The floor is also made of mosaics, circular patterns in the nave against squares and rectangles bordering. Underneath the present day church is an underground church, a low-ceilinged cave, a small space with side vaults and an altar. Nearby are stones from the tomb of Pope Hadrian I. I buy a photo of Pope Benedict greeting Pope Francis (lots of white to see), and a "pin-up" of Pope Francis surrounded by Saint Peter's. This sort of tourist tat has a strange appeal for me --I am developing quite a collection of papal memorabilia (--alongside my collection of souvenirs of the British Royal Family).
Now that I have placed myself in the area of the hotel Bill and I stayed in, I want to find the hotel, but see nothing that looks like the glamorous place we stayed in. At the time it had just opened, so we were able to stay in a suite on the fifth floor, the top floor, with a terrace looking out over the Temple of Vesta and Santa Maria in Cosmedin. Not finding it, I abandon the search, thinking Sant' Eligio will be easier to find. But where is the goldsmith's church? I find myself asking after thoroughly combing the area on both sides of Santa Maria in Cosmedin.
My memory is that the nearest church, San Nicola in Carcere, across the street, was closed, but I found Sant' Eligio down a little street. It was our last morning, and we had to make it to the airport, but hoped, as it was Sunday, we would be able find a church where to go to Mass. I think I went looking on my own while Bill completed his packing. I was triumphant to find the little church open for Mass --it was open only one Sunday a month and we happened to be there on that Sunday.
We passed through a heavy red velvet curtain into an opulent, operatic environment. I remember seeing two crossed tools on a plaque near the altar on the right. Later I discovered they were the symbol of the goldsmiths' guild, which commissioned the artist Raphael to design it.
Years later, searching for Sant' Eligio turned out to be a wild goose chase for a good hour. I had an address of Viale Cenci, but after walking all over that area, found nothing. I even stopped in the carabinieri station in Piazza Farnese, near via Giulia. The handsomest policeman answered my knock and told me to consider walking to Lungotevere dei Tebaldi and even as far as Lungotevere dei Sangallo, as he thought it was closer there.
Heading in that direction I passed a hotel with an invitingly open door and a front desk attendant willing to help me. I needed to go to Via Eligio, a tiny street between Via Giulia and Lungotevere Tebaldi , a few minutes away. I walked Via Giulia and then Lungotevere Tebaldi and found the church, visible from the Lungotevere, from which I descended a few steps to the church.
The sign on the door said the church was open from Monday through Friday from 9:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. by pre-arrangement (prenotazione). There was a phone number to call, but as I have no cellphone I can use in Italy, it was pointless to take it down. I would not get to see the interior of the church except in images on Google.
In retrospect, what is most astonishing to me is that I found the church at all twenty years ago. I was walking without knowing of its existence, yet I found it and was able to lead Bill back to it. None of the places where I thought it was were any where near where the church actually stands: my memory was that I found a church --which was San Nicola in Carcere, and finding it closed continued to look and found Sant' Eligio degli Orefici. I must have continued along the lungoteveri until I saw the little church and descending, found it open, the sacristan preparing for Mass.
Our hotel was Hotel "47", on via Petroselli, two minutes from Santa Maria in Cosmedin, I discover after an Internet search. It is a non-descript building that looks like a government office, easily overlooked unless you know where you are going. it is less than a twenty minute walk from the goldsmith's church.
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