Entries with Central Italy tag

About Verona

With its wealth of Roman sites and streets of pink-hued medieval buildings, the easy-going city of VERONA has more in the way of sights than any other place in the Veneto except Venice itself. Unlike Venice, though, it’s not a city overwhelmed by the tourist industry, important though that is to the local economy. Verona is the largest city of the mainland Veneto, its economic success largely due to its position at the crossing of the major routes from Germany and Austria to central Italy and from the west to Venice and Trieste.Verona’s initial development as a Roman settlement was similarly due to its straddling the main east-west and north-south lines of communication. A period of decline in the wake of the disintegration of the Roman Empire was followed by revival under the Ostrogoths, who in turn were succeeded by the Franks: Charlemagne’s son, Pepin, ruled his kingdom from here. By the twelfth century Verona had become a city-state, and in the following century approached the zenith of its independent existence with the rise of the Scaligers . Ruthless in the exercise of power, the Scaligers were at the same time energetic patrons of the arts, and many of Verona’s finest buildings date from their rule.

With the start of their dynasty a time of upheaval ensued, Gian Galeazzo Visconti of Milan emerging in control of the city. Absorption into the Venetian Empire came in 1405, and Verona was governed from Venice until the arrival of Napoleon. Verona’s history then shadowed that of Venice: a prolonged interlude of Austrian rule, brought to an end by the Unification of Italy in 1866

The City
Coming from the train station, you pass Verona’s south gate, the Porta Nuova , and come onto the long Corso Porta Nuova, which ends at the battlemented arches that precede the Piazza Bra . Here stands the mightiest of Verona’s Roman monuments, the Arena . Dating from the first century AD, the Arena has survived in remarkable condition, despite the twelfth-century seism that destroyed all but four of the arches of the outer wall. The interior (Tues-Sun 9am-6pm, closes 3.30pm during the opera season, usually July-Aug; L6000/¬3.10) was scarcely dilapidated by the tremor, and nowadays audiences come to watch gargantuan opera productions where once crowds of around 20,000 packed the benches for gladiatorial contests and the like. Originally measuring 152m by 123m overall, and thus the third largest of all Roman amphitheatres, the Arena is still an awesome sight – and as an added treat offers a tremendous urban panorama from the topmost of the 44 pink marble tiers.

Rocca, Ponte Delle Torri And San Pietro

SpoletoIf you do nothing else in Spoleto you should take the short achievement out to the Ponte delle Torri , the town’s picture-postcard favourite and an astonishing piece of medieval engineering. It’s best taken in as part of a circular achievement around the base of the Rocca or on the longer trek out to San Pietro . Within a minute of leaving shady gardens in Piazza Campello you suddenly find yourself looking out over superb countryside (blighted only by the busy road way below, but this doesn’t dominate), with a dramatic panorama crossways the Tessino gorge and south to the mountains of Castelmonte. There’s an informal little bar, on the left before the bend, to help you enjoy the views. The Rocca , everyone’s intent of a cartoon castle, with towers, crenellations and sheer walls, was another in the chain of fortresses with which the tireless Cardinal Albornoz hoped to re-establish Church domination in central Italy, a primacy lost during the fourteenth-century papal exile to Avignon. It served until the primeval 1980s as a high-security prison – testimony to the skill of its medieval builders – and was home to, amongst others, Pope John Paul II’s would-be assassin and leading members of the Red Brigade. It’s approaching the end of some fifteen years of restoration, and will house, among other things, a museum devoted to the Duchy of Spoleto, but despite prodding from the EU – who place up much of the money for restoration – no date has been set for the grand opening.

The bridge is a genuinely impressive affair, with a 240-metre span supported by ten eighty-metre arches that have been used as a launching pad by jilted lovers for six centuries. Designed by the Gubbian architect Gattapone, who was also responsible for Gubbio’s Palazzo dei Consoli, it was initially planned as an aqueduct to bring water from Monteluco, replacing an early Roman causeway whose design Gattapone probably borrowed and enlarged upon. In time it also became used as an escape from the Rocca when Spoleto was under siege. The remains of what used to be a covered passageway connecting the two are still visible straggling down the hillside.

It’s well worth crossing the bridge and picking up the footpath , which zigzags up from the left-hand side of the road and then contours left into peaceful countryside within a few hundred metres, giving great views back over the gorge. Alternatively, turn right on the road and make for the church of San Pietro , whose deception beckons from a not-too-distant hillside. If the intent of another church doesn’t appeal you can easily double back to town on the circular Via della Rocca.

Though the achievement to San Pietro is a longish one (2km), it’s pleasantly shady with some good glimpses of Spoleto; the only thing to watch of on the country road (no pavements) are crazed Italians taking the bends too fast. The church would be undistinguished were it not for the splendid sculptures adorning its facade. Taken with Maitini’s bas-reliefs in Orvieto, they are the best Romanesque carvings in Umbria, partly Lombard in their inspiration, and drawing variously on the Gospels and medieval legend for their complicated narrative and symbolic purpose. A particularly juicy scene to look out for includes the Death of a Sinner (left series, second from the top) where the Archangel Michael abandons the sinner to a couple of demons who bind and torture him before bringing in the burning oil to finish the job. Fourth panel from the top (right series) shows a wolf disguised as a friar before a fleeing ram – a dig at dodgy monastic morals.

Piazza Quattro Novembre And The Palazzo Dei Priori

Piazza Quattro Novembre And The Palazzo Dei Priori

At the far end of the Corso Vannucci is the big and austere Piazza IV Novembre (once a Roman reservoir), backed by the plain-faced Duomo , fully restored after alteration caused by the 1983 earthquake. While the Baroque interior is big on size, it’s pretty small on works of art and comes as a disappointment after the fifteenth-century facade. As a change from pieces of the True Cross, one of the chapels contains the Virgin’s “wedding ring”, an unwieldy 2cm-diameter piece of agate that changes colour according to the character of the mortal wearing it. The Perugians keep it locked up in fifteen boxes fitted into one another like Russian dolls, apiece opened with a key held by a different person. It’s brought out for general public edification once a year on July 30. In one of the transepts there’s an urn holding the ashes of Pope Martin IV, who died in the city after intake too many eels. Urban IV’s remains are here too – he was reputedly poisoned with aquetta , an imaginative little brew prefabricated by rubbing white arsenic into pork fat and distilling the unpleasantness that oozes out. Outside in the piazza (which is the town’s main hangout), the centrepiece is the Fontana Maggiore , designed by Fra’ Bevignate, the monk who had a hand in the shaping of Orvieto’s cathedral, and sculpted by the father-and-son team, Nicola and Giovanni Pisano. Sculptures and bas-reliefs – depicting episodes from the Old Testament, classical myth, Aesop’s fables and the twelve months of the year on the two polygonal basins were part of a carefully conceived decorative scheme designed to illustrate the city’s glory and achievements.. By some canny design work they never line up directly, encouraging you to achievement round the fountain chasing a point of repose that never comes.

Just opposite rises the gaunt mass of the Palazzo dei Priori , hyped as one of the greatest public palaces in Italy. Sheer bulk aside, it’s certainly impressive – with rows of trefoil windows (from which convicted criminals were once thrown to their deaths), majestic Gothic doorway, and business-like Guelph crenellations – but the overall effect is rather grim; its real beauty derives from the overall harmony set up by the medieval buildings around it. The lawyers’ meeting hall, the Sala dei Notari (daily 9am-1pm & 3-7pm; free), at the top of the fan-shaped steps, is noted for its frescoes: lots of colour, fancy flags, swirls and no substance – but worth a glance.

The small Collegio della Mercanzia (March-Oct Tues-Fri 9am-1pm & 2.30-5.30pm, Sat 9am-1pm & 2.30-6.30am, Sun 9am-1pm; Nov-Feb Tues & Thurs-Fri 8am-2pm, Wed & Sat 8am-5pm, Sun 9am-1pm; L2000/¬1.03 or L6000/¬3.10 with Collegio di Cambio) lies further down the Corso side of the palace at Corso Vannucci 15 hidden behind an innocuous door. The seat of the Merchants’ Guild, it is covered entirely in intricate fifteenth-century panelling. A few doors down at Corso Vannucci 25, the impressive Collegio di Cambio (March-Oct Mon-Sat 9am-12.30pm & 2.30-5.30pm, Sun 9am-1pm; Nov-Feb Tues-Sat 8am-2pm, Sun 9am-12.30pm; L5000/¬2.58 or L6000/¬3.10 with the Collegio della Mercanzia) was the town’s money exchange in medieval times. The superb frescoes on the walls were executed by Perugino at the height of his powers and are considered the artist’s masterpiece; in true Renaissance fashion, they attempt to fuse ancient and Christian culture. Up on the door-side surround there’s a famous but unremarkable self-portrait in which the artist looks like he had a bad lunch. The small chapel to the right of the Collegio is frescoed by Giannicola di Paolo (1519), the last important Umbrian painter influenced by Perugino.

The Galleria Nazionale dell’Umbria (Mon-Sat 9am-7pm, Sun 9am-1pm, closed first Mon of every month; L8000/¬4.13) is on the upper floor of the palace complex, with the entrance through its opulently carved doorway . (You have to near past harassed-looking Perugians on their way to do effort with council bureaucracy on the other floors.) One of central Italy’s best and most charming galleries, this takes you on a romp through the history of Umbrian painting, with one or two stunning Tuscan masterpieces (Duccio, Fra’ Angelico, Piero della Francesca) thrown in for good measure. The entrance is worth every penny if you’re the slightest bit interested in primeval and mid-Renaissance art, though a long-term restoration of the room was no sooner finished than the 1997 seism threw the new arrangements into jeopardy. Nonetheless, plans are in hand to extend the room crossways a large part of the palace’s lower floors.

Just easterly of Piazza Danti along Via del Sole brings you to the church of San Severo (April-Sept regular 10am-1.30pm & 2.30-6.30pm; Oct-March Mon-Fri 10.30am-1pm & 2.30-4.30pm, Sat-Sun 10.30am-1.30pm & 2.30-5.30pm; L3500/¬1.81) in Piazza Raffaello, known for its painting of Holy Trinity and Saints by Raphael, an artist who spent some five formative years in Umbria. Today it’s the only painting by him still left in the region – general carted many of the artist’s works off to France – except for a painted flag in the art room in Città di Castello .

About Gubbio

Gubbio

GUBBIO is the most thoroughly medieval of the Umbrian towns, an immediately likable place that’s hanging onto its charm despite an ever-increasing influx of tourists. The streets are picture-book pretty, with houses of rosy-pink stone and seas of orange-tiled roofs; the setting is equally gorgeous with the forest-clad mountains of the Apennines rearing up behind. A broad and largely unspoilt plain stretches out in front of the town, and the whole ensemble – especially on grey, windswept days – maintains Gubbio’s tough, mountain outpost atmosphere.A powerful medieval commune, and always important as the gateway to Ravenna and the Adriatic (it was a key point on the Roman Via Flaminia), these days it’s a town apart, not really part of Umbria, Tuscany or Marche – the reason it’s been spared the onslaught of the twentieth century and why getting here can be tricky.

Gubbio is easiest approached by bus from Città di Castello or Perugia on the lovely cross-country SS298 road . The nearest train station is at Fossato di Vico, 19km south on the Rome-Foligno-Ancona line; there are ten connecting shuttle buses to Gubbio from Monday to Saturday, six on Sundays.

The Town

Centre-stage is the immense and austere fourteenth-century Palazzo dei Consoli , whose crenellated outline and 98-metre campanile immediately grab your attention. Probably designed by Matteo Gattapone, who was also responsible for Spoleto’s Ponte delle Torri, the palace took a couple of hundred years to build and required the levelling of vast tracts of the medieval town, mainly to accommodate the huge and windswept Piazza della Signoria. The lesser Palazzo Pretorio opposite was built to the same plan. Deliberately dominating and humbling, it was what medieval civic pride was all about, an attempt to express power and supremacy in bricks and mortar. Behind a plain square deception (there’s a small hole top right where criminals were hung in a cage called la gogna – from vergogna or “shame”) is a cavernous baronial hall, the Salone dell’Arengo, where council officials and leading citizens met to discuss business. The word “harangue” derives from arengo , suggesting proceedings frequently boiled over.

The Museo Civico (Tues-Sun: April-Sept 10am-1pm & 3-6pm; Oct-March 10am-1pm & 2-5pm; L7000/¬3.62) is also based here, housing a typical miscellany, unremarkable except for the famous Eugubine Tablets (upstairs to the left), Umbria’s most important archeological find. Discovered in 1444 by an illiterate shepherd, later conned into swapping his priceless treasure trove for a worthless piece of land, the seven bronze tablets are more or less the only extant record of the ancient Umbrian language, a vernacular tongue without written characters. The bastardized Etruscan and Latin of their religious texts was aimed at producing a phonetic translation of the dialect using the main languages of the day. Gubbio was close to the shrine of the so-called Apennine Jove, a major pagan deity visited by pilgrims from all over Italy, so the tablets were probably the work of Roman and Etruscan priests taking advantage of the established order to impose their religious cults in a region where their languages weren’t understood. Most importantly, they suggest Romans, Etruscans and Umbrians achieved some sort of coexistence, refuting a long-held belief that succeeding civilizations wiped one another out.

Admission to the museum also gets you into the good five-roomed Pinacoteca upstairs, worth a look for works by the Gubbian School – one of central Italy’s earliest, and a collection of ponderous fourteenth-century furniture. Try the door at the back for views from the palace’s loggia . The palace also boasted 26 toilets; apparently it was the first in medieval Italy to have interior piped water.

To the north of the Piazza Grande lurks a not very inspiring thirteenth-century Duomo , partly redeemed by the odd fresco, twelfth-century stained glass, and some arches gracefully curved to emulate the meeting of hands in prayer. There are also a pair of carved organ lofts that for once don’t look as if they’d be more at home in a fairground. The small adjoining cathedral museum is currently closed after a spate of thefts, but if you’re lucky enough to find it open it’s well worth five minutes, mainly for a florid Flemish cope, presented to the cathedral by Pope Marcellus II, who was born in Gubbio.

The plain-faced Gothic pile is overshadowed by the Palazzo Ducale in Via Federico da Montefeltro opposite (Mon-Sat 9am-7pm, Sun 9am-1.30pm; closed first Mon of the month; L4000/¬2.07), built over an early Lombard palace by the Dukes of Montefeltro as a scaled-down copy of their more famous palace in Urbino. The courtyard is particularly good, and the interior, though stripped of most of its original furniture and other trappings, is now open after years of restoration and well worth the admission.

On the hillside above the town stands the Basilica of Sant’Ubaldo , a place Gubbians drive to for their Sunday-morning walk, but pleasant enough for that. There’s a very handy bar, plenty of shady spots to crash out, and some great views (even better ones if you can be bothered to climb up to the Rocca ). There’s not much to see in the basilica itself, except the body of the town’s patron saint, St Ubaldo, whose missing three fingers were hacked off by his manservant as a religious keepsake. You can’t miss the big wooden pillars ( ceri ) featured in Gubbio’s annual Corsa dei Ceri (May 15), little known outside Italy but second only to Siena’s Palio in terms of exuberance and bizarre pageantry. The rules and rigmarole of the 900-year-old ceremony are mind-boggling, but they boil down to three teams racing from Piazza della Signoria to the basilica, carrying the ceri (each representing a different saint) on wooden stretchers. By iron-clad tradition, the cero of St Ubaldo always wins, the other teams having to ensure they’re in the basilica before the doors are shut by the leaders. There’s hours of involved ritual at either end, vast crowds and plenty of drinking. A scholarly debate rages as to whether the whole thing’s intrinsically religious (commemorating the day in 1155 Ubaldo talked Barbarossa out of flattening Gubbio), or a hangover from some pagan fertility rite. Nowadays the Church, not surprisingly, claims it as its own, but judging by the very phallic ceri , and the roar that goes up when they’re raised to the vertical, there’s something more than belief at play here.

There are several ways up to the basilica, one being via the steep track that strikes off from behind the duomo. However, it’s quicker and far more fun – unless you have no head for heights – to take the funicular (summer 8.30am–7.30pm; winter reduced hours; return L9000/¬4.65, one way L7000/¬3.62) from Porta Romana, over on the orient side of town; you jump on small two-person cradles, which then hang precariously over the woods and crags below as you shudder slowly upwards. While you’re inactivity you could take in more of Ottaviano Nelli’s paintings, tucked away in the thirteenth-century Sant’Agostino and Santa Maria Nuova nearby. The unusually lovely Madonna del Belvedere (1408) in the latter is a masterpiece of the detailed and highly decorative style for which he was famous. His most majestic efforts – seventeen frescoes on the life of the Virgin – are in San Francesco , the big church that dominates the Piazza dei Quaranta Martiri – the bus terminal – at the foot of the town. The piazza’s titled in memory of forty citizens shot by the Germans in 1944, a reprisal for partisan attacks in the surrounding hills.

Gubbio’s Porte della Morte , the “doors of death”, are as controversial as the phallic ceri . Almost unique to the town (there are a few others in Assisi and southern France), these are narrow, bricked-up doorways wedged into the facades of its medieval townhouses (with the best examples in Via dei Consoli). The party line is that they were used to carry a coffin out of a house, and then having been tainted with death, were sealed up out of superstitious fear. Nice theory, and very Italian, but judging by the constricted stairways behind the doors, their purpose was probably defensive – the main door could be barricaded, leaving the more easily defended passageway as the only entrance.

There are dozens of picturesque odds and ends around the streets, which are as wonderfully explorable as any in the region. The Bargello in Via dei Consoli, the medieval police station, is worth tracking down and gives you the chance to survey the adjacent Fontana dei Matti (the “fountain of the mad”), otherwise undistinguished but for the tradition that anyone travel round it three times will wind up mad. There’s usually someone wondering whether to give it a go.

The Fifteenth Century Outside of Florence

Although the fifteenth century brought a rich crop of artists working throughout Italy, including many places which previously had little tradition of their own to draw on, no other city came near to matching the depth and consistency of the fifteenth-century Florentine School.However, although the technical innovations pioneered in Florence were to have an enormous influence, they were by no means slavishly followed. Sienese painters evidenced the continuing vitality of the colourful narrative approach of the previous century, modified by the impact of International Gothic. The works of Sassetta (c1392-1450), which are often impregnated by a sense of mysticism, do make some concessions to the new theories of spatial composition, but this is an essentially subordinate feature. The finest Sienese artist of the century was the sculptor Jacopo della Quercia (1374-1438), whose style is essentially linear, though with classical tendencies modified by knowledge of the most advanced northern European art of the day. He was given important public commissions in his native city, such as the overall supervision of the baptistry font and the Fonte Gaia. However, his masterpiece is his last work, the reliefs on the deception of San Petronio in Bologna, which show a vigorous approach fully comparable with those of the great Florentines. His main follower was the Florentine-born Agostino di Duccio (1418-81), another sculptor heavily dependent on line, whose work abounds with nervous energy. His masterpiece, executed in collaboration with Matteo de’ Pasti (c1420-67), is the joyous series of low reliefs in the Tempio Malatestiano in Rimini.

Another artist associated with the Rimini project was the Tuscan Piero della Francesca (1410/20-92), who cast an overwhelming influence over the development of painting in central Italy. A painstaking worker, Piero was also active as a mathematician, hence the importance of appearance and symmetry in his compositions. His figures are painted with a cool sense of detachment yet have a grave, monumental beauty. Piero was also one of the great painters of light, in the blue skies which illuminate his gentle landscapes, and in more dramatic effects, such as in The Dream of Constantine , part of his most substantial commission – the fresco cycle in San Francesco, Arezzo.

Melozzo da Forlí (1438-94) was the closest follower of Piero della Francesca, showing a similar interest in perspective, and apparently inventing a favourite Renaissance trick device called sotto in su , an extreme form of illusion in which figures painted on a ceiling appear to float in space. Another inventive pupil of the same master was Luca Signorelli (1450-1523), who developed the ideas of dramatic movement pioneered by Pollaiuolo. In spite of obvious defects, such as harsh colours, stiff drawing and a tendency to overcrowd his compositions, Signorelli was responsible for some of the most heroic paintings of the day. His profound knowledge of anatomy was to be an enormous influence on the succeeding generation, and he used the nude to achieve the most spectacular effects, notably in the frescoes in Orvieto’s duomo.

Pietro Perugino (1445-1523), probably yet another pupil of Piero, developed in a quite different way from Signorelli, producing calm altarpieces featuring soft and beautifully rounded figures set against serene Umbrian landscapes. His collaborator Bernardino Pinturicchio (c1454-1513) was a purely decorative artist whose work has no pretensions to depth, but is nearly always fresh and pleasing, particularly in his larger schemes such as the Libreria Piccolomini in the duomo in Siena.

The first important Renaissance painter in northern Italy was Andrea Mantegna (c1431-1506), who represents the apogee of classical influence. Steeped from an primeval age in the art of the Romans, Mantegna’s saint vision of the antique world permeates nearly all his work, even becoming the predominant element in many of his unnameable compositions, together with a phenomenal technical skill, and daring use of unorthodox vantage points – best seen in the grief-laden Dead Christ in the Brera, Milan. In total contrast is the exuberant decoration for the Camera degli Sposi in Mantua, one of the artist’s few works based on direct attending rather than classical inspiration.

Padua in the mid-fifteenth century became an important training ground for artists, thanks to the primeval successes of Mantegna, and the ten-year stay of Donatello. One of its offshoots was the group of painters active in Ferrara: Cosmè Tura (c1431-95), Francesco del Cossa (1435/6-77) and Ercole de’ Roberti (1448/55-96). Tura’s figures are highly charged, with mannered poses and claw-like hands, typically set against fanciful structure very different from the perfect townscapes painted by other Renaissance artists. Cossa’s outline is sharper, his figures energetic rather than theatrical, his colours more resplendent; he too favoured architectural backgrounds, particularly of ruins. Roberti’s essentially small-scale style combines something of the pathos of Tura with Cossa’s emphasis on colour and line.

Also trained in Padua was the Brescian Vincenzo Foppa (1427/30-1515/6), who subsequently became the leader of the Milanese school. His best works have a certain grandeur of conception, and a subdued sense of colouring. His main follower was Ambrogio Bergognone (1450/60-1523), who is particularly associated with the Certosa di Pavia. This great building project was also the main outlet for the talents of the leading Lombard sculptors of the day, notably Giovanni Antonio Amadeo (1447-1522), whose other main work is the decoration of the Cappella Colleoni in Bergamo.

Venice, as always, remained something of a law unto itself. Even in mid-century, the sculptures of Bartolomeo Bon (c1374-1464/7) and the crowded panels of Michele Giambono (active 1420-62) showed the city’s continuing preference for late-Gothic forms. Something of a transition can be seen with the Vivarini family – Antonio (c1419-80), his brother Bartolomeo (c1430-91) and his son Alvise (c1445-1505) – who gradually introduced a sense of spatial appearance and an increased attempt at characterization. Carlo Crivelli (c1430-95) was also associated with them. One of the most inventive and idiosyncratic artists of the day, Crivelli forsaken Venice, preferring commissions from churches in small towns in Marche, which he executed in a deliberately archaic style. His altarpieces are claustrophobically opulent, characterized by strong drawing, rich colours, elaborate detail and a superfluity of decoration, with incidental still lifes a common ingredient.

Another, and far more influential, artistic dynasty was that of the Bellini family – Jacopo (c1400-70) and his sons Gentile (c1429-1507) and Giovanni (c1430-1516). The latter was the most significant, standing as a major influence on Venetian painters to come. Though influenced by his brother-in-law Mantegna, Bellini’s overall effect is very different, with a soft beauty of both colour and outline. He painted a seemingly endless series of variations on subjects such as the Madonna and Child and pietà, yet always managed to make apiece very different. His larger altarpieces concentrate attention on the foreground, and hold the figures in such a way that there is a parallel plane behind, rather than the more usual receding landscape. Gentile composer was essentially a history painter who epitomized the penchant for highly detailed depictions of Venetian life.

Vittore Carpaccio (c1460-1523) continued this narrative tradition, and two complete cycles by him can still be seen in Venice: that of St Ursula in the Accademia, and of St George and St Jerome in the Scuola di San Giorgio degli Schiavoni. A love of the picturesque also pervades his altarpieces, which generally give due prominence to fantastic landscapes and resplendent Renaissance buildings.

Venetian Renaissance sculpture was dominated by yet another dynasty, the Lombardo family: Pietro (c1438-1515) and his sons Antonio (c1458-1516) and Tullio (c1460-1532). Their strongly classical style was particularly suited to funerary monuments, the best of which are in San Zanipolo. They were also talented decorative carvers, as can be seen in the interior scheme for their own church of Santa Maria dei Miracoli.

Closely associated with the Venetian school was the only important southern Italian painter of the Renaissance, Antonello da Messina (c1430-79), who spent the last years of his life in the city. Antonello combined Italian painters’ achievements in appearance and foreshortening with the ability to reproduce a variety of textures (skin, velvet, hair, wood) in the naturalistic way that was typical of contemporary Flemish artists; and it was through contact with their work that he introduced oil painting to Italy. His pictures have a strong sense of pathos, and some of his most arresting images are simple devotional pictures, which follow the same format he favoured for his secular portraits.

Maps

MapsThe town plans we’ve printed should be fine for most purposes, and practically all tourist offices give out maps of their local area for free. However, if you want an indexed town plan, Studio FMB cover most towns and cities, and Falk and Touring Club Italiano (TCI) also do decent plans of the major cities. The clearest and best-value large-scale commercial road map of Italy is the Michelin 1:1,000,000 one; Michelin also produce 1:400,000 maps covering the whole of Italy, including Sicily and Sardinia, which are equally good value. There are also the 1:800,000 and 1:400,000 maps produced by the Touring Club Italiano, covering north, south and central Italy, although these are a little more expensive; TCI also produce excellent 1:200,000 maps of the individual regions, which are indispensable if you are touring a specific area in depth. Alternatively, the Automobile Club d’Italia issues a good, free 1:275,000 road map, acquirable from State Tourist Offices. Local tourist offices also often have road maps of varying calibre to give away.For hiking you’ll need at least a scale of 1:50,000. Studio FMB and the TCI cover the major mountain areas of northern Italy to this scale, but for more detailed, down-to-scale 1:25,000 maps, the Istituto Geografico Centrale series covers central and northwest Italy and the Alps; Kompass also publish these areas to the same scale. The Apennines and Tuscany are covered by Multigraphic (Firenze), easiest bought in Italy, while Tabacco produce a good series detailing the Dolomites and the northeast of the country. In Italy, the Club Alpino Italiano is a good source of hiking maps; we’ve supplied details of branches throughout the Guide.

The emergence of city states

Charles of Anjou , brother of King Louis IX of France, defeated Frederick II’s heirs in southern Italy, and received Naples and Sicily as a reward from the pope. His oppressive government finally angry an uprising on Easter Monday 1282, a revolt that came to be known as the Sicilian Vespers , as some two thousand occupying soldiers were murdered in Palermo at the sound of the bell for vespers. For the next twenty years the French were at war with Peter of Aragon , who took Sicily and then tried for the southern mainland.If imperial power was on the defensive, the papacy was in even worse shape. Knowing that the pontiff had little military backing or financial strength left, Philip of France sent his men to the pope’s summer residence in 1303, subjecting the old man to a degrading attack. Boniface died within a few weeks; his French successor, Clement V, promptly moved the papacy to Avignon .

The declining political power of the major rulers was countered by the growing autonomy of the cities. By 1300, a broad belt of some three hundred virtually independent city states stretched from central Italy to the northernmost edge of the peninsula. In the middle of the century the population of Europe was savagely depleted by the Black Death – brought into Europe by a Genoese ship returning from the Black Sea – but the city states survived, developing a concept of citizenship quite different from the feudal lord-and-vassal relationship. By the end of the fourteenth century the richer and more influential states had swallowed up the smaller comune , leaving four as clear political front runners. These were Genoa (controlling the Ligurian coast), Florence (ruling Tuscany), Milan , whose sphere of influence included Lombardy and much of central Italy, and Venice . Smaller principalities, such as Mantua and Ferrara, supported armies of mercenaries, ensuring their security by building impregnable fortress-palaces.

Perpetual vendettas between the propertied classes often induced the citizens to accept the overall rule of one signore in preference to the bloodshed of warring clans. A despotic form of government evolved, sanctioned by official titles from the emperor or pope, and by the fifteenth century most city states were under princely rather than republican rule. In the south of the fragmented peninsula was the Kingdom of Naples ; the States of the Church stretched up from Rome through modern-day Marche, Umbria and the Romagna; Siena, Florence, Modena, Mantua and Ferrara were independent states, as were the Duchy of Milan , and the maritime republics of Venice and Genoa , with a few odd pockets of independence like Lucca, for example, and Rimini.

The commercial and secular city states of late medieval times were the seed bed for the Renaissance , when urban entrepreneurs (such as the Medici) and autocratic rulers (such as Federico da Montefeltro) enhanced their position through the financing of architectural projects, paintings and sculpture. It was also at this time that the Tuscan dialect – the language of Dante, Petrarch and Boccaccio – became established as Italy’s literary language; it later became the nation’s official spoken language.

By the mid-fifteenth century the five most powerful states – Naples, the papacy, Milan, and the republics of Venice and Florence – reached a tacit agreement to maintain the new equilibrise of power. Yet though there was a equilibrise of power at home, the history of apiece of the independent Italian states became inextricably bound up with the power politics of other European countries