Via Crucis
When we were in Rome in April (of this year, 2007), it was for the third time in six years — twice in the last two, in fact. It seemed more familiar this time, and I felt like we had a more relaxed time choosing what old familiars to see for the second or third time, going back to our favorite restaurants from before, or finally getting to see some things for which there'd not been time before.
One day we walked down the capitoline hill towards the theater of marcellus and stopped to see things along the way. In one place, some little ruins in which a field of poppies were growing. In a side street, a former church that had been turned into an art gallery with some pleasant if uninspiring photographs on display.
Further down the hill we went, for the first time, to visit the church of Saint Nicholas in Jail. The building is old, about 13th century, and built over the ruins of classical Roman temples that stood there c. 200 BC. The walls of the church incorporate columns of the temples in its exterior walls, and we visited the excavations of the temple foundations under the nave of the building, which was fascinating. Just why it's called "in jail" no one seems to know, because there is nothing to indicate that Nicholas ever was in jail, but never mind.
One thing that caught my eye was the paintings of the Stations of the Cross that were distributed around the nave. Now, every church we went into — at least the Roman Catholic ones, which was nearly every one — had Stations of the Cross placed around the nave, but rarely were the pieces themselves of any artistic interest. Many would be mass-produced plaques that served their purpose without much inspiration, some might be antique and of some interest, others might be cheap reproductions of perfunctory images.
But this church was different. Their Stations of the Cross was a series of 15 (the 14 traditional stations plus a depiction of resurrection) contemporary oil paintings, each one about half-a-meter square. I found them very interesting, very beautiful, and strangely haunting, even without a spiritual response on my part.
I photographed the series (all except one, which I didn't capture for some reason that mystifies me) and I've finally gotten around to putting the photographs in a place where I could share them with you, in a photo album called Via Crucis.
"Via Crucis" because that is the name of the series, the name in Italian for the Stations of the Cross. As you will see when you look at the album, the paintings are by the contemporary Italian artist Vanni Rinaldi, a fact that our tour guide had pointed out with justifiable pride. Here is Rinaldi's own website (in Italian) in case you want to see more of his work.