Light and shadows

Finally the day comes, the start of the holidays which for me, means the end of the school year. It also means five weeks of freedom from timetables.

Even better, I've just finished my last private lesson til September, unless I get the weird emergency that can crop up. Such as: "I'm going to the UK/USA in two weeks, can you help me?" or "I need to do a First Certificate or IELTS or whatever exam in October," this latter usually from a person with an elementary knowledge of English.

I walked out of my student's flat with a feeling of relief. Time for a well-deserved break. She lives in Monteverde, an area I know well. My second flat in Rome from 2000 to 2005, a basement flat was here barely 100 metres from the park of Villa Pamphili.

Most parks in Rome are called Villa 'something or other' (an abbreviation of 'parco di' Villa Borghese, for example).This caused some consternation on my part when I first came to Rome. My students would describe these villas where they had spent their Sunday afternoons: Villa Borghese, Villa Ada and Villa Pamphili, the three most famous and most cited. I would picture a modern style villa with a swimming-pool and an area for snacks and drinks.

Only when I visited Villa Borghese, actually I was visiting the Galleria Borghese, did I realise my mistake.

Again, an area for potential confusion, I would indifferently refer to the park, Villa Borghese, and its truly magnificent museum, Galleria Borghese, using the same moniker. Thus: "the Caravaggio's at Villa Borghese are well-worth a visit," Well, no.  As a (I suspect pedantic) person observed, the Caravaggio's were in the Galleria Borghese and not the park. Duh!

Monteverde is on a hill, the name translates as green hill.  I headed down towards Via dei Quattro Venti (road of the four winds) which I have been assured, once used to blow at different times of the year throughout Rome. Large blocks of flats were built in the EUR area of the city thus blocking one of these winds,  a nice cool summer wind that would strike in the afternoons at around 4 and provide an escape from the relentless heat.

I climbed back up towards via Carini and what would be my bus stop except it had been moved because of some roadwork in progress.  A small notice attached to the stop said I needed to walk 100 metres forwards. I did so and found myself at one of the entrances to Villa Sciarra. 

Now I had been to Villa Sciarra many years ago when I lived in the area. but, in those days I tended to favour Villa Pamphili, it was bigger and my dog had all her doggy pals there, and it was closer to my flat.

I peered through the gate, it was getting hot already and the gravel glowed white. I saw a fountain (I like fountains) and I forgot about the bus. I was on holiday after all. It was the fountain of the Satyrs (I found this out afterwards), a huge Baroque monstrosity, all satyrs and centaurs and putti.

Propping up the central basin

To my left was a large bird cage and in front of me a large tree-line path, above which and running parallel, was a walkway. It ran alongside the Gianicolense walls which limit the park. I went onto it, it was deserted. The rose bushes were fading in the heat and few flowers remained. I peered through the portcullis gaps in the walls at the  palazzi of the wealthy beyond. 

The path was shaded and at the end were some steps which led down on to the main alley next to the famed esedra, a semi-circle of statues against a hedge with two small fountains. 

Esedra

 A young mother was trying to stop her daughter from climbing over the wooden barrier to enter the esedra, "no, Ellie, there's a barrier you can't go there." 

She walked away, the little girl hesitated one leg astride the low barrier. Her mother turned back, "daje, Elisabetta, we're going to see the turtles." This convinced her.

Behind the esedra a van from the commune di Roma was parked and a couple of gardeners were raking the pine needles up. 

I walked up to the Villa (Casino Barberini, named after the original owners), a rather plain yellowish building with five 17th century statues atop.Today it is the headquarters for the Italian Institute of Germanic studies (Istituto Italiano di Studi Germanici).

 The last owners of the Villa were an American couple, George and Henrietta Wurts neè Towers. George Wurts was keen on gardening and was responsible for the re-creation of the garden as a neo-Baroque wonderland with 17th and 18th century statues and fountains dotted throughout its grounds: they represented the seasons, the passage of time or classical themes such as Apollo and Daphne, Diana and Endymion.

Apollo and Daphne

 In 1930 on the death of her husband,  Henrietta  donated the Villa to the State, in those days under the dictatorship of Mussolini, on the condition that it would become a park for the public.

In front of the Villa is the Fountain of Human Passion (Fontana delle Passione Umane) - the four sphinxes represent human passion. Anger has her paw on a skull, Luxury is on a carpet of flowers, Avarice reclines on some  money and Greed is on a cornucopia over-flowing with flowers. Her front paw raised as she brings a fruit to her mouth. It is also known as the fountain of sins/vice (vizio).

The two beagles on the rim of the fountain couldn't have cared less about what it represented. Their owner threw a tennis ball into the water among the leaves and algae, neither of the dogs wanted to jump in and the ball floated beyond their owners reach.

As I moved on, I could hear her exortations, "daje!" then see her splashing the water to make the ball float towards the edge when she could pick it up again.

Anger with her paw on a skull

A man was doing yoga, or was he just stretching, next to the statue of Daphne and Apollo?










A faded notice on the dry yellow grass told visitors not to walk on the grass. No one was paying any heed. I entered a covered path and gazed out at the view on to the Castelli Romani, rather hazy due to the heat.

I climbed back up towards a pond along which is the statue off Diana and Endymion. 

A labrador-type dog stares up in loving adoration at Diana who seems to be looking back at him. The statue was speckled by the sun light as it filtered down through a tree. Somehow fittingly, a black pointer splashed into the pond and had a swim. His owner pretended not to notice and walked on down the path. 

I strode up to the principal entrance. A bus roared past and shuddered to a stop. I glanced up the road at the two heavily armed soldiers guarding the entrance to the headquarters of the American University in Rome. Behind me, a mother shouted at her children to stop splashing the water in the fountain.
  

The Fontana con satirelli e capretta (satyres with goat) is the first fountain a visitor entering through the principal gate would see,

I remembered the promise of turtles. Where were they? 

I also remembered seeing an entrance lower down the hill, on Via Dandolo. I headed downwards, down some uneven steps and rubble-covered paths among the flitting light and shadows of Villa Sciarra. It was a place that was much neglected and had seen greater days. 

  

Turtle pond in Villa Sciarra