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The secret of the nuns
Rome's church of Santa Cecilia in Trastevere looks like nothing much...until you pay the nuns to sneak downstairs to see remnants of ancient Rome, or upstairs to see precious frescoes by medieval master Pietro Cavallini
The rather bland, 18th-century interior of this convent church hides the fact that it dates from 824, and contains not only one of the greatest frescoes from late medieval Rome, but also the ruins of a Roman patrician house underneath.
The Martyrdom of St. Cecilia
After locking Cecilia in her own steam room for three days failed to do her in—indeed, Cecilia came out singing, for which she later was declared the patron saint of music—the executioners tried decapitating her. The three allowed strokes of the axe failed to finish the job however, and Cecilia held on for another three days, slowly bleeding to death and converting hundreds in the process with her show of piety (and this obvious evidence of the power of the God protecting her).
The house was, ostensibly, the home of
Saint Cecilia,
a powerful patrician killed in AD 230 for complicated political reasons and—since the Roman prosecutors used her practice of the illegal cult of Christianity as the chief accusation against her—an early martyr (see sidebar).
The
mosaic apse
dates from the ninth century, when Pope Paschal I rebuilt the church and brought Cecilia’s body from the catacombs to rebury her beneath the altar.
Under the present altar, with its Guido Reni painting and beautiful Arnolfo di Cambio baldacchino of 1283, lies Stefano Maderno’s touching 17th-century statue of St. Cecilia, lying on her side in repose with her face turned from us, a slit across her neck the only sign of her violent death. Maderno was on hand to make sketches when Cardinal Sfondrati opened the saint's tomb in 1599, and they found Cecilia perfectly preserved under a gold funeral shroud.
From a door on the left aisle, you can pay a few Euro to descend to the basement and wander around those
Roman ruins
beneath the church (as well as see the odd, riotously decorated crypt under the altar), but be sure afterward to ask the nun on duty if you can please see the “affreschi di Cavallini.” (If no one is on duty, ring the bell at the door on the left aisle; you’ll have to bribe the nun a few Euro to walk you up to the frescoes.)
The 18th-century interior redecorators slapped plaster over most of the bottom half of
Cavallini's masterful Last Judgment
on the entrance wall, but had to leave room for a large built-in balcony so that the cloistered nuns could attend Mass unseen. In doing so, they unintentionally preserved the fresco’s top half, and what remains here of Christ, the angels, and apostles is stunning.
Cavallini painted this in 1293 in a magnificent break from formulaic Byzantine painting, just as his contemporary Giotto was revolutionizing art in central Italy. For the first time, each character has a unique face and personality, and all are highly modeled with careful shading and color gradients. Take as much of it in as possible before the nun shoos you back downstairs.
Piazza di Santa Cecilia 22
Entry to Cavallini frescoes only Tues and Thurs 10am–noon and Sun 11:30am–12:30pm
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This article was last updated in January 2007. All information was accurate at the time.
Copyright © 1998–2008 by Reid Bramblett. All rights reserved.
