Divinity in marble.

A few years ago I was extremely fortunate to be able to wander around Europe for a few months on my own.
One of the places I visited (and highly recommend the next time you're in Rome) was the Galleria Borghese.

I had read that it housed some of Bernini's * sculptures and I was very interested to visit the gallery.
What I had failed to completely understand however, was that when you went to visit, you had to visit at very specific hours.

The gallery only allowed 360 people in, once every 2 hours for ONLY 2 hours at a time (with a mandatory exit at the end of time slot).

Well! I didn't read the small print so when I arrived I thought that the 2 hour count down started when I entered the building.
Not so!
After 45 minutes everyone in the gallery (including uninformed me) was rather unceremoniously ushered out of the building.
I hadn't even had time but to run past the statues I had so longed to see on my way out the door; I was so disappointed!

I wandered morosely around the gift shop, finally settling on some magnets with photos of the statues in lieu of actually seeing them.
The gift shop clerk asked me how I had enjoyed my visit and I explained sadly that I had missed the very things that I had come to see.

"Well-a, we will-a see-a what we canna do for you." He smiled, suggesting I go buy a coffee while he finished up his duties.
Abandoning his post a few minutes later, he joined me for a coffee and quizzed me on my life, Canada, and what a lovely young girl such as myself was doing all alone in Italy, "The country of love-a."

We talked a while, until he suggested for me to follow him.
Not being one to worry about common sense or the wisdom of following strange men in foreign countries, I trailed behind him as we left the building and went around to the back of the gallery
There, a guard stood waiting at a back door.
My shop keeper (I had already taken to considering him in the possessive) said a few words to the guard who smiled, laughed and nodded, holding the door wide open for me.

I turned back, "Grazie, molte grazie!" I called to him as he walked away.
"A beeyooteeful woman-a, she must-a always get her-a weesh!" He grinned at me, turning back for a moment.
The guard chuckled and beckoned me in.

And so.
I was back in, with all the time in the world to re-explore the most amazing collection of art in a sumptuous and intimate setting.
All the art was truly inspiring, but it was the statues that held me.

Rape of Persephone















Apollo and Daphne
Bernini's sensual awareness of the surface textures of skin and hair made these statues truly come alive for me.
In the 'Rape of Persephone' (1621 or 1622 AD), you can see Pluto's fingers biting into the tender flesh of Persephone's thigh leaving cruel indentations as she struggles to escape.

The 'Apollo and Daphne' shows Daphne's slim toes turn to roots; her slender fingers give way to laurel stems and leaves in her bid to evade the dogged Apollo.
It's not discernable in this photo, but here too, Bernini captures Apollo's fingers digging into Daphne's belly in an attempt to restrain her; to stop the metamorphasis.

I was loath to leave that gallery
Blissful days could have been spent amongst its treasures.
But, I am again fortunate.
Next year I shall be returning to Rome, and I will most certainly revisit that divine space.







*More about Bernini and his work here.