Author Archives: Susan Scheid

When in Umbria: Assisi

Norberto Proietti, Il Ritorno di Francesco

Our initial decision was to give Assisi a miss, for forewarned is forearmed, as they say:

Be warned: this is the third most visited pilgrimage site in Italy (after St. Peter’s in Rome and Padre Pio’s shine in Puglia), meaning often impenetrable crowds in the main visitor hotspots. [Rough Guide to Tuscany & Umbria]

But, after viewing frescoes by Da Volterra in Rome, Fra Filippo Lippi in Spoleto, and Benozzo Gozzoli’s St. Francis cycle in Montefalco,  it seemed preposterous to miss out on Giotto’s* St. Francis cycle in St. Francis’s home town. We’re pleased to report that, while the streets were gently “peopled,” we didn’t encounter crowds.

Exorcism of the demons at Arezzo

Ironically, the 1939 designation of St. Francis as a patron saint of Italy, and accompanying religious and other tourism, appears to have saved Assisi from unending decline. In the 15th century,

A climax of evils came when, in addition to a hundred other ills, the Baglioni of Perugia took upon themselves to interfere. . . . [and] lay siege to Assisi, and perpetual skirmishes took place in the plain, which sapped the life-blood of the citizens and laid waste the Umbrian country for many miles around. The peasants, whose grain had been trampled down by the Baglioni, were driven half-naked into the woods . . .

Once the gates of Assisi were forced open, the Baglioni and their bravi scoured the streets from end to end, killing all they encountered, and dragging from the churches the poor women who sought shelter and protection. . . . “The poor city of Assisi” [a] letter says, “has known only sorrow through the perpetual raids of the Baglioni, whose many crimes would be condemned even by the infidel Turks. . . . They do not shudder to murder men, cook their flesh, and give it to the relations of the slain to eat in their prison dungeons.” [Lady Lucie Duff Gordon, The Story of Assisi, pp. 32-35]

Miracle of the Spring

Walking among the peaceable Giotto frescoes in the Basilica Papale di San Francesco, it was difficult to imagine this history—and difficult, also, to imagine more recent devastation to the church caused by earthquakes in 1997.

Basilica ceiling collapse, 1997 earthquake

Two earthquakes hit central Italy with a one-two punch today, killing at least 10 people and sending parts of the vaulted inner roof of the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi crashing to the ground, damaging the 13th-century frescoes on its walls and ceiling. . . .

Two Franciscan friars and two surveyors from the Culture Ministry who were in the basilica assessing damage from the earlier earthquake were killed by the falling rubble, which piled up nearly 10 feet high.

The basilica, many art historians say, is where Italian painting was born. With works by Cimabue, Giotto, Pietro Lorenzetti and Simone Martini, it contains the most important and extensive early Renaissance decorative cycles in Italy outside the Sistine Chapel. . . .

The two quakes were the most serious to hit Italy since the devastating earthquake of 1980, which registered 6.8 on the Richter scale and killed 2,570 people near Naples. [cite]

Sermon to the Birds

Photographs aren’t permitted in the Basilica, so I have to make do with some available on line. Be warned: They don’t begin to do justice to the delicate luminosity of the frescoes as we saw them in situ. As small compensation, I can offer street scenes, including discovery of a pastry specific to the area, rocciata di Assisi, that I can attest was delicious.

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Listening List

Franz Liszt, Legende No. 1: St François d’Assise, La prédication aux oiseaux S.175 (1862-63), performed by Stephen Hough


*There has been a dispute in recent times over whether the Giotto frescoes are truly Giotto’s. The “modern consensus” seems to be that most of them are. [Rough Guide]


The sources for quotations may be found at the links in the text. The source for images from the Giotto Assisi cycle is here. The source for the Lorenzetti Crucifixion is here, and for The Last Supper is here. The source of the image of the ceiling collapse is here. The remainder of the photographs, as always on the blog unless otherwise indicated, are mine.

When in Umbria: Montefalco

Gozzoli, Preaching to the Birds & Blessing of Montefalco

The hill town of Montefalco is tiny (pop. 5,581), but that doesn’t prevent it from having a surfeit of spectacular art. As reported by the Rough Guide to Tuscany & Umbria: Continue reading

When in Umbria: Spoleto, Part 1

Spoleto Duomo bell tower

Chiesa San Gregorio Maggiore bell tower

After a lot of to-ing and fro-ing, we decided on Spoleto as the base for a week in Umbria. We found what looked to be (and was indeed) a comfortable, reasonably-priced apartment with lots of light and even a terrace with a view. The owners, British expats Norma and Laurie, were bursting with excellent information and, where needed, gratefully appreciated assistance in getting around. But it was more than that: they truly made us feel we’d arrived at a home away from home. Continue reading

When in Rome, Part 3

John Keats died at Rome of a consumption, in his twenty-fourth year, on the [23rd] of [February] 1821; and was buried in the romantic and lonely cemetery of the protestants in that city, under the pyramid which is the tomb of Cestius, and the massy walls and towers, now mouldering and desolate, which formed the circuit of ancient Rome. The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place. Continue reading

When in Rome, Part 2


Proceeding along the Via Sacra and passing under the arch of Titus, on turning a little to the left, we beheld the amphitheatre of Vespasian and Titus, now called the Coliseum. Never did human art present to the eye a fabric so well calculated by its size and form,
to surprise and delight.
—John Chetwode Eustace, A classical tour through Italy, p. 163

Our next two days in Rome provided for a study in contrasts: the first a series of missteps, the second a non-stop delight. Continue reading