Isola San Giulio, Sacred Mount Orta, and a dinosaur

We had one morning in Orta San Giulio. We began by taking a taxi boat out to Isola San Giulio, a small island in the lake. A chapel was first constructed there in the 5th century. The island is now dominated by a Benedictine monastery, built in the 19th century, and a basilica that was updated in the 12th century.

We weren't able to enter the basilica because we were scantily clad. Forget "Just As I Am" in Italy: God likes your shoulders and knees covered when you're in his house.

We contemplated our scanty clothes as we walked "The Way of Silence," a loop path that took us around the island. We chatted with a sparrow as we waited for the next taxi boat.

Once back in Orta San Giulio, we walked up to Sacred Mount Orta, a UNESCO World Heritage site with 21 chapels, built between the 16th and 18th centuries. The chapels contain 900 frescoes and 366 statues depicting the life of St. Francis of Assisi.

The frescoes that I enjoyed the most were the cherubs and angels on the ceilings. They came in small numbers initially, but eventually grew to quite the angel hoard.

That visitors might visit the chapels and dioramas in their proper life-of-Francis order, each chapel exterior has a handy sign:

I will observe that the hands painted outside the chapels are very well clad indeed, while many of the cherubs and angels on the inside are next to naked. Just sayin'.

We hit the road after lunch, pausing to take a photograph of a dinosaur outside a kitchen design store.

Next up: Cinque Terre.

Be merciful to us in the scooters

Nothing cheers up a mourner like a good Totentanz (dance of death). The tradition of these allegorical depictions of Death doing his rounds dates back to the 14th century. The charming frescoes below--20th-century restorations of 18th-century originals--can be found outside over the entrance to the St. Michael's chapel in Freiburg's old Friedhof, where they teach us that Death works hard, plays hard, and spares no one.

The couplets were obviously painted before German spellings and noun capitalization were standardized. While Stefan and I were trying to decipher the rhymes, we ran the whole shebang through "Google Translate." The results were not very helpful, but the program did generate the line "Be merciful to us in the scooters," so it was clearly worth the effort.

Hier schlafft das kindt, dort ewig wacht,
weil ihm den Todt ein Music macht.

[Here sleeps the child, there wakes eternally,
for Death makes music for him.]

Das ABC kaumb schreibt der Knab,
Ruefft ihn der Todt schon in das grab.

[Hardly has the youth written his ABCs
when Death calls him already to the grave.]

Beim Haar der Todt ergreift den Kopf,
Zu diser Wueth taugt ihm der Zopf.

[Death grips the head by the hair,
the braid is useful for that anger.]

Zu fechten, zu spihlen, die Jugendt ist gwohnt,
dem alter der Jugendt der Todt nit verschont.

[To fence and to play, youth is accustomed,
Death spares not the youth for his age.]

Mit aschen Zierth der Todt das Haupt,
Die besser als der puder taugt.

[Death decorates the head with ashes,
which are better than powder.]

Der Todt allein das Creutz abnihmbt,
Das ihm der Ehemann selbst bestihmbt.

+ Ehe-Stand

[Death alone removes the cross
that the bridegroom takes upon himself.]

[+ The State of Matrimony]

Sey uns doch gnaedig
in dem Gricht,
und nit nach maaß der suenden
Richt!

[Be merciful to us in the scooters in judgment,
and don't judge by the measure of sin!]

Der eigne kopf macht lauter Zanck,
Dem Todt darumb vor disen danck.

[Your own head stirs lots of trouble,
for which Death is thankful.]

Zu fahren zu reuthen der Todt ist bereuth,
Damit er den Adel erhalte zur beuth.

[Death is prepared to travel by foot or horse,
so he can gain nobility as his loot.]

Dem betler in der Hungers not
Der Todt ihm ist das liebste brod.

[For the starving beggar,
Death is the best of bread.]

Die schwarze Mehs lis ich vor dich,
Die Huelf darvon hof ich vor mich.

[The black Mass I read before you,
and for that I hope to receive help.]

Beim pflueg der Baur das Brod gewint,
Beim pflueg den Baur der Todt auch nimt.

[By the plough, the farmer wins his bread,
By the plough, Death also takes the farmer.]

Du Narr, was huelfft die gelt begier,
Heunt kombt der Todt, was nimbst mit dir?

[You fool, how does the lust for money help you?
Today Death comes, and what do you take with you?]

Biasca

The town Biasca sits in the Leventina valley at the confluence of the Ticino and Brenno rivers. In 1512, a rock slide off Monte Crenone crashed down upon Biasca, completely destroying parts of the town and damming the Brenno. A year later, the dam broke, and the flood waters coursed down the valley, wiping out farmland and bridges all the way south to Bellinzona.

One architectural survivor of that catastrophic time was Biasca's Romanesque church Santi Pietro e Paolo. The building, constructed at the tail end of the 11th century, has undergone a few architectural and decorative changes over the past 900 years, but a thorough restoration between 1955-67 de-Baroqued the interior, restricting the cherubs and gilded curlicues to the side-chapel to the right of the entrance.

Frescoes abound in the church, documenting changes in artistic styles from the 12th through the 17th centuries as well as the shift from anonymous farmer artists to known studios. The cumulative effect of the contrasting styles in the apse is rather, um, striking, with hardly any space left untouched. There are bucolic Renaissance landscapes on the wall, and black and white rectangles and symbolic animals--lion, snake, chicken, blacksmith--on the ceiling. Christ Pantocrator, painted in rich solid colors, smiles serenely from above, surrounded by a mandorla of pink and green circles, while portraits of individual saints adorn the archway.