Climb the Campidoglio or Capitoline Hill, which has drawn visitors to Rome since the time of Julius Caesar and still offers the best and most inspiring introduction to this vibrant city. It is the holiest of the seven hills of antiquity, whose summit was graced by the Temple of Jupiter during the Imperial era (27 BC to 476 AD). One of the travelers who made pilgrimages here over the centuries was the young Edward Gibbon, who was shocked to learn that little of the Roman Empire had survived an autumn night's journey in 1764. Amidst the melancholy ruins of "when barefoot fryers sang vespers", he was inspired to write his monumental history of the fall of the Roman Empire.
From this story[x]Proximity
One of the seven hills of Rome, the Campidorio was crowned by the Temple of Jupiter in antiquity and served as the religious and political center of the city. Today, it is home to the Capitoline Museums, the oldest public **** museum in the world. (Massimo Siragusa/Constrasto/Redux) The city seeks sponsors to restore the front of the Coliseum. (Massimo Siragusa/Constrasto/Redux) Visitors can still overlook the Coliseum and walk through the ruins of the nearby Golden Temple of Emperor Nero. (Massimo Siragusa/Constrasto/Redux) In 1764, the view of the Campidoglio inspired Englishman Edward Gibbon to write his monumental history of Rome. (Massimo Siragusa/Constrasto/Redux) Today, Romans are just as likely as foreign tourists to visit the city's classical venues (an industrial architectural sculpture at the Montemartini Museum). (Massimo Siragusa/Constrasto/Redux)Photo gallery
Secrets of the arena-related contentIn his masterpiece, Gibbon made Rome the starting point of his splendor in the second century A.D., when the Capitol Hill was a symbol of the city's eternal power, and the Temple of Jupiter was a breathtaking sight to behold. Beneath the temple's gilded roof, a massive gold and ivory statue of a king of the Roman gods presided over artifacts from around the world. But the spectacular view hypnotized me. From the heights of the Campidorio, ancient travelers gazed at a rich tapestry of cities below. Rome was the largest metropolis the world had ever seen, and its marble structures, the Greek orator Aelius Aristides, circa 160 A.D., covered the horizon like snow.Today, Campidoglio is dominated by the renovated Capitoline museum, a Renaissance twin palace facing a Michelangelo-designed piazza. The world's oldest public **** museums, their gleaming corridors are lined with classical masterpieces such as the Etruscan bronze "she-wolf nursing twins" Romulus and Remus, the city's symbol, and the marble dying Gaul and Capitoline Venus. When the Temple of Jupiter was razed to the ground by looters in the fifth and sixth centuries, its ruins once again became a must-see destination for Italians and the most spectacular outdoor café in the Eternal City. Standing on the rooftop terrace, gazing out at sunset over Rome's fabled red-tiled roofs, foreigners and locals alike are grateful to be in the most beautiful metropolis on earth as they were 2,000 years ago. "Rome in her greatness! Propertius, a poet in the time of Augustus Caesar, wrote. "Stranger, look at your stomach!
A new spirit is alive in all of Rome's classical venues, once notorious for their indifferent staff, erratic schedules, and lack of display labels. Some of the most popular pavilions have been closed for decades; even at the Capitoline, visitors don't know which rooms will be open and which exhibits will be buried in storage. Now, the Roman Museum is one of the most elegantly designed and accessible archaeological sites in the world. "The progress is incredible compared to Rome in the mid-1980s," says archaeologist Nicola Raneri, 35. "There's another huge change: it's not just foreign tourists who are taking advantage of the cultural advances. A lot of Italians visit them now.
In fact, Rome is enjoying a new era of archaeology for the third time in the city's modern history. The first took place in the 1870s, when Rome became the capital of a newly united Italy and King VictorEmmanuel II ordered the removal of the rubble of the Colosseum and the Forum. Then, in the 1920s and 1930s, Mussolini tore up much of central Rome and exposed the port of Ostia, the city's main seaport in antiquity, as part of his campaign to gain popular support for his misguided adventures (even though he had destroyed almost as much as he had saved). More current scientific research began in the 1990s, fueled by funding to refurbish the city in 2000 for the grand Jubilee Millennium celebrations. The Jubilee not only poured unprecedented millions of dollars into renovations, but also sparked controversy among municipal, state and Vatican bureaucracies to complete several long-simmering projects. "The Jubilee was a huge catalyst for change in Rome," says Diane Favro, a professor of architecture at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA), who is working with University of Virginia professor Bernard Frischer) to create an interactive digital model of the Roman Forum that would allow people to virtually navigate the site. "Along with the digital revolution, we have taken a giant leap forward in our understanding of the ancient city."
While the debate over funding for the site continues unabated, the resurgence of interest in ancient history shows no signs of abating. Last month, Italian officials unveiled a magnificent 28-foot-tall altar that was built by Emperor Augustus in 9 B.C. to celebrate the arrival of the Pax Romana. (The famous monument, known as the Ara Pacis (Altar of Peace), originally excavated in the early 1900s and later restored by Mussolini's archaeologists, has been protected for six years while a new museum pavilion designed by American architect Richard Meier is under construction. (This pavilion, with exhibits, a library and an auditorium, is scheduled to open next year.) In response to popular demand, Rome's once secretive archaeological watchdog is now posting its latest discoveries on the Internet. The Italian media are following the new dig closely and discussing it enthusiastically in cafes.
All this new enthusiasm has a historical symmetry: the ancient Romans, Favreau said, were also fervent admirers of their own city, joining the hordes of provincial tourists who traveled from monument to monument.
Indeed, the Roman Empire sought to impress citizens and visitors alike: the first emperor, Augustus (27 BC-14 AD), embarked on an ambitious beautification program, which led to splendid building after splendid building going up around bewildering houses. It was during the reign of Augustus that Rome began to look like the capital of the world: its splendid monuments were carved out of richly colored marble, and Pliny the Elder wrote in 70 A.D.: "It is the most beautiful building the world has ever seen." With the completion of the Colosseum in 80 A.D. and the inauguration of Emperor Tulajin's massive Forum in 113 A.D., the image of Rome we carry today is practically complete. With over a million inhabitants, the metropolis had become the greatest wonder of antiquity: "The goddess of the continent and of the people, oh Rome, has nothing to compare with it, or even to come close.In the early 1930's, the poet Sigmund Freud, in "KDSPE" "KDSPs trumpeted that the famous Rome compares modern humans to the human brain, where many levels of memory can exist in the same physical space***. It's a concept those classical sightseers should understand: the ancient Romans had an exquisite sense of the seat of genius or the spirit of place, and they saw the streets of Rome as a great treasure trove of history, past and present blurred. Today, we can feel the same vivid sense of historical continuity as the city's revitalized sites use every conceivable means to bring the past to life.
Imaginary connections to history are everywhere. The ancient Appian Way, the queen of highways south of the city of Rome, has been transformed into a ten-mile archaeological park best scouted by bicycle. The roadside scenery has barely changed since antiquity, and there are still sheep in the farmland here, and tombs of Roman aristocrats that once read "I suggest you enjoy life more than I do" and "Beware of the doctors: they're the ones who killed me."
Back in the city's historic center, the Colosseum remains an icon of the imperial era, with part of its remaining fa?ade cleaned up and many of the underground passages used by gladiators and beasts on display to the public. (A visit was a must-do for ancient visitors, seeing criminals torn to pieces or crucified in the morning and then, after a siesta, men slaughtering each other in the afternoon; circus wagon races rounded out the entertainment.) The building, once the largest in Western Europe at 142 feet tall, is being restored. After a decade of restoration, the Oriental Palace, the golden temple of Emperor Nero, reopened with great fanfare in 1999. Visitors can now rent "video guides" - palm pilots that show close-ups of the ceiling frescoes and computerized reconstructions of several rooms. Thanks to these, standing in the dark interior of the palace, which was buried in the first century A.D., one can imagine the walls that Nero saw, studded with jewels and mother-of-pearl, surrounded by fountains, and gardens filled with tame wildlife.
In antiquity, Rome's most opulent monuments were part of the urban fabric, and even the flanks of the sacred Campidoglio were crowded with homes; it was Mussolini who isolated the ancient ruins from the surrounding neighborhood. Today, city planners want to restore the crowding. "Rome is not a museum," says archaeologist Nicola Laranelli. "Florence is more like that. It's the people who created Rome. It's the depth of history in the lives of individuals.
The Roman Forum has been opened to the public free of charge, restoring it to its ancient role as the city's original square: today, Romans and tourists alike once again stroll its ancient stones, picnic on ricotta near the ruins of the Senate House or daydream beside a sanctuary once tended by a prioress. A few blocks further, Trajan Markets, built in the second century A.D. as a multi-level shopping center, is now a gallery for contemporary art. In a labyrinth of arched arcades where vendors once hawked *** condiments and pearls from the Red Sea, where fish are kept fresh by swimming in the waters ten miles away, and where stores are stacked with metal sculptures, video installations, and mannequins showcasing the latest in designer fashions, this strategic gateway to Rome's amphitheater is the Via dei Fori Imperiali, which runs side-by-side with the Imperial Forum runs and is closed to motorized traffic so that pedestrians no longer have to dodge public **** cars and dueling Vespas. This modern boulevard has been a problem ever since it was blown through the center of Rome in the 1930s by a fascist ***, leveling a hill and destroying an entire Renaissance neighborhood. Mussolini, who considered himself a "neo-Augustus," reviving the glories of the ancient empire, wanted to be able to see the great imperial icons directly from the Piazza Venezia, where he was speaking, and in July 2004 the Superintendency of Archaeology issued a proposal to build a pedestrian walkway through the Imperial Forum that would allow the Romans to reclaim the area. While the vague sci-fi design had its critics and the project didn't go far enough, many city citizens felt that something had to be done to fix Mussolini's misogyny.
"It's really the age-old challenge of Rome: how do you balance the needs of a modern city with its historical identity? Paolo Livani, curator of antiquities at the Vatican Museums, said. "We can't destroy the remains of ancient Rome, but we can't mummify the modern city either. A balancing act may be impossible, but we must try! We have no choice.
An effective balancing act occurs at the Montemartinim Museum, where sensual marble statues e juxtaposed with towering metal turbines in an abandoned 19th-century power plant. The exhibition, which opened in 1997, was originally temporary, but proved so popular that it became permanent. Other attempts to combine the modern with the classical are less common. Richard Meier's museum is the most controversial. It was the first new building in Rome's historic center since the time of Mussolini, and was heavily criticized for its angular travertine and glass design, which many Romans felt violated the atmosphere of the old city. In one infamous attack, Vittorio Sgarbi, the vice-minister of culture, compared the museum's boxy form to a "Dallas gas station" and set the building ablaze amidst statues, while other critics bemoaned the "Los Angeles of Rome," the "KDSPE," the "KDSPE," the "KDSPE," the "KDSPE," the "KDSPE" of Rome, the "KDSPE" of Rome. The "KDSPE" and "KDSPs" are certainly not architects of the past mixed with the present. For example, the Gruppo Storico Romano, an ancient Roman historical organization, attracts everyone from bank clerks to
truck drivers to gladiator schools on Appian Way. Even a visit to the school's headquarters can test one's nerves. In the dimly lit courtyard, behind a corrugated iron fence, a half-dozen Adotzen students wear corseted tunics and helmets and carry menacing-looking props like tridents and daggers. The 36-year-old teacher named Carmelo Canzaro runs a clothing store by day, but becomes a pinhead when the sun goes down. "There are no ancient texts describing gladiator training techniques," he admits, "so we have to improvise," Spiculus adds, "when the students, all male, start swinging and beckoning with wooden swords. you have to give your full attention. One mistake and you could lose your balance." (He himself sits outside at night, recovering from a broken ankle suffered in a recent demonstration.)
During the break, a young computer programmer, Massimo Carnevali, 26, a.k.a. Kyros, explained the appeal of the school. It combines history with physical activity," he said. Another 26-year-old opera singer from Philadelphia, Ryan Andes, said, "It's a dream come true to come here and cut people with a sword."
Edward Gibbon gets it. Despite his dislike of gladiators, he found the practice "inhuman" and "horrible" - and he will always remember the impression his first visit to Rome made on his youthful imagination. As he wrote in his autobiography: "At a distance of twenty-five years, I can neither forget nor express the intensity of the emotions that thrilled me on my first approach to and entry into the Eternal City. After a sleepless night I stepped with high strides upon the ruins of the Forum; every memorable spot where Romulus stood, Tully spoke, and Caesar fell, appeared at once before my eyes, and a few days of drunkenness disappeared before I could make a calm and careful investigation." "KDSPE" "KDSPE" "KDSPs" "KDSPE" "KDSPs "HBO's Rome "KDSPE" "KDSPs "Despite the grand monuments, most of Imperial Rome is a squalid maze packed with collapsed houses with ten-foot alleys filled with merchants, vendors and pedestrians as well as the occasional falling brick or jug of something. A few jars of wine hung over the door of the tavern. The noise from the street is deafening. ("Show me the room where you can sleep.") The satirist Juvenal said. "Insomnia kills most people here.") The rich and the poor were crammed together, along with immigrants from all corners of the empire, Greek professors, Parthian (modern Iraqi) greenhorns, Dacian (Romanian) slaves and boxers from Ethiopia. Animal trainers, acrobats, fire-eaters, actors and storytellers packed the forum. ("Give me a coin," says one chorus, "and I'll tell you a tale of gold.")
On my last day in Rome, I explored the depths of the city: I trudged through the grimy Subura, a Roman-populated ghetto that was cramped, windowless and without running water, and gazed at one of their unisex toilets, where they wiped themselves with a public **** sponge. Aaron was in a corner where I stumbled upon a makeshift arena where a battle was being fought: 400 Romans in tattered and dirty tunics were thrown on wagons, lying on all fours in a pool of blood, howling. A dog rushes in and grabs a severed hand.
Soon, in the interstices of the chaos, a slim, gucci-clad Italian woman hobbles across the blood-soaked beach in stiletto heels to do the makeup for one of the extras. This is Cinecitta, a sprawling film studio on the outskirts of Rome that some call the world's greatest image factory of ancient life. Classics such as Waddis, Ben-Hur and Cleopatra were shot here, as was Fellini's Satyricon.
HBO is filming the $100 million series "Rome" (which begins airing Aug. 28) on a five-acre set that rebuilds the city in the final days of **** and country.Bruno Heller, the show's **** co-creator, hopes the series will provide a glimpse of the ancient HBO's 2004 "Decaying Wood" do an old west: deconstruct it. "KDSPE" "KDSPs" "We sometimes have a hard time believing that ancient Romans really existed in an everyday sense," says Marcel Heller. When we strolled back, there were period uniforms and props everywhere. "But they were real, heartfelt, full of *** people." The series tries to show the Romans without judging them by modern Christian morality. Heller added: "Certain things are repressed in our own culture, such as openly enjoying the suffering of others, the desire to make people submit to your will, and the guilt-free use of slaves." . "This was normal for the Romans." -T.P. "