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Perugia is a city I visited with my family in 2022. It was part of a trip to Umbria that using Santa Maria degli Angeli as a base, giving me the opportunity to see many other places in this beautiful region. I had never been to Perugia and knew nothing about the city. For me, it had become popular after the tragic murder of Meredith Kercher. In particular, the city was embodied by the thing most often shown on TV during that period: the house where the tragic event had occurred. Mysteries of this kind have always fascinated me, not out of morbidity but as a puzzle to be studied and solved. Even though matters were complicated by the amateurish investigations and the various phantom sentences of the judges, the mystery itself remained. For years, when Perugia was discussed on TV, the first thing that was shown was the house, then the exterior of the courthouse, and finally the courtroom where the trial was held. During that period, I also developed a certain attraction to Amanda Knox, even though I didn't consider her a completely innocent person. For me, Amanda was simple beauty, with an angelic face, but also a courageous girl with dreams that had driven her far from home. I never believed in her cries, and this created a certain conflict because she fascinated me, but in reality she was a vamp with an angelic face. It goes without saying that all these elements had led me to have a great desire to see these places and subsequently explore the city with a view of discovery; wandering around and finding interesting things to photograph and then perhaps studying them later. By chance, one of the city's main parking lots was on an elevated level from where I could see the murder house. If I had left my car there, this detail would have helped me immediately see one of the places of interest, relegating it to a sort of preview and then leaving it aside. My exploration of Perugia thus began according to plan, and the parking lot I selected was indeed strategic, saving me a lot of time. The outdoor area offered a natural view of the road below, which ran right next to the house where the tragic event occurred. From there, I was able to see the structure from three sides and make quick comparisons and analyses. Since it was an older house, I believe it hadn't been possible to carry out any major structural renovations, and the house was virtually identical to how I remembered it from the photos and videos. Mainly, in addition to the wide, identifying shot, there was the entrance door and the windows on the opposite side, one of which, according to investigators, had been used by one of the perpetrators to gain unauthorized access to the home. Partly out of respect for the victim and partly because of the new owner of the house, I didn't spend much time taking photos, just a few from various angles, and quickly. After all, they were only symbolic photos that couldn't help me understand anything more about what had happened, unless I set out to reconstruct the dynamics of the events with a complete geographical view of where they had occurred. The efficiency of the parking lot demonstrated its positive effects immediately after leaving the area and walking a hundred meters or so. A little further on, in fact, was a square overlooking the university building and one of the ancient entrance gates to the historic center. The university was also a structure often featured on television, but I must say that in person it was much more beautiful, with a dominant location. It stood on a slope, and this in itself gave it an even more imposing image, and the fact that it was in perfect aesthetic condition heightened the perception of detail. It was a three-level structure built of red brick, L-shaped, with the central section of the entrance side breaking the design with a colonnade. It was composed of round columns on the ground floor, while on the upper floors the design changed to a square colonnade, each flanked by a balcony. The design was clearly defined by a series of large windows that occupied most of the structure, yet there were details such as capitals, reliefs, and decorations above the windows. On the terrace, there was another smaller structure that could be glimpsed through the stone balustrades. Right across from the university, at a corner, was the Etruscan Arch, a structure that immediately caught my attention. It was an ancient and very tall arch, reaching ten meters in height, set back from two large, square stone walls that were truly imposing! However, I immediately noticed some anomalies in the structure: above the main arch was a smaller one, which had been closed, a work that was clearly built in a later period. But even more intriguing was another structure that stood on the stone wall on the left side. It consisted of two levels of different heights, the first being a sort of covered terrace, composed of a series of arches along the entire perimeter. It looked a bit like a smaller version of the one at Topkapi Palace in Istanbul, which offers one of the most beautiful views of the Bosphorus, which in my opinion is one of the most beautiful views ever. The second level was very low and marked by a series of square windows. What struck me was the difference in construction between the two structures; in my opinion, those two levels were added much later because they were built differently than the arch and the two large walls. In fact, they were made of large white stone, while the two levels were made of red bricks, the same type used to close the other arch I mentioned earlier. It makes me laugh when various authorities today create problems with the construction of any structure because it negatively impacts other surrounding structures. As is evident, it was common in the past to build on ruins without respecting the older structure; Rome is a prime example. What I don't accept, however, is this modern zeal where there is endless bureaucracy to carry out structural interventions, yet in certain ancient villages it is possible to drive in and circulate normally. The uphill road from the Etruscan Arch took us to the side of the cathedral, passing stone houses and arches connecting buildings that faced one another. Here too, I had the feeling that these architectural works had been added over time, probably out of necessity, but beyond their dubious aesthetic value, they were nevertheless works that presumed a certain difficulty in construction, and therefore deserved to be appreciated for this. The cathedral stood, so to speak, between two squares: Piazza Danti, small and asymmetrical, and the larger and more majestic Piazza IV Novembre. We arrived right in front of the right nave, which at the time, along with the main façade, was undergoing restoration. While the right nave was completely covered by scaffolding, the façade had only a wooden fence just a few meters high, thus leaving the entire wall visible, as well as most of the main entrance. The latter faced the narrowest part of the street and consisted of two round columns and two square ones, which were, however, incorporated into the structure. At the top, a curved frame covered a square section, the interior of which contained marble matching that of the columns. Beyond these details and elements, what struck me most was the construction typology of the façade; it had a horizontal motif due to the rows of bricks that jutted out and extended linearly in width, but which had visibly different spacings in height. Furthermore, the façade gave me the impression that those exposed bricks were only the first layer of a covering that would later be finished with more precious materials. The upper section, where the roof rested, had been visibly repaired because the type of bricks was different and literally intertwined with the older structure. Obviously, the upper section was also ancient, and these structural works, in my opinion, had been carried out in different eras, far apart in time. Beyond the cathedral entrance, a vast panorama opened up: Piazza IV Novembre. Besides the large number of people crossing it, stopping to take photos or simply enjoy it, the square was home to several architectural masterpieces, such as Palazzo dei Priori, Fontana Maggiore, and the view of the cathedral's left nave, which ended in a very beautiful loggia. Palazzo dei Priori was actually a large building that also housed the Galleria Nazionale dell'Umbria; it immediately struck me, even if only subconsciously. The impact was the angled view, and the three-story building was dominated by mostly arched openings. On the right side, a staircase began in the left corner and reached the upper level, culminating in a triple arch. But the strangest and most obvious feature was a bell tower set deep into the left side of the building, a structure typical of churches but which seemed odd in that context. In the center of the square, directly opposite the cathedral's left nave, was Fontana Maggiore. It was very large and circular, protected by iron fencing. Only upon approach could one notice the bas-reliefs arranged on two levels. To be honest, the fountain didn't really impress me, perhaps because of the fencing, or perhaps because it was always crowded with people who used it as a backdrop for selfies or to sit in the lower section, taking advantage of the unevenness of the surrounding wall. What was advantageous from the fountain was the view of the cathedral's left nave; like the front, it had restoration wood fencing in the lower section, but most of the structure could still be seen. While continuing the exposed brick design, the lower section of the nave was decorated with coats of arms motifs, in a light pink color. Again, I don't know if they were added later, but in my vision, they weren't what I had in mind when I spoke of a façade that needed to be clad in more luxurious materials. The rest of the nave was dominated by a large side entrance door, the statue of Pope Julius III, and a very large Christ on the cross placed in a display case just above the entrance. I don't know if the glass protection was added later, but it wasn't beautiful at all. That Christ, protected in that way, looked like a laboratory test tube where human or animal body parts are placed in liquids for experiments. Personally, it gave me this impression, and I didn't like it for that very reason. I have the impression that the statue was originally free of any protection, especially that type. We entered the cathedral through the side door, passing under the statue of Christ on the Cross. Once inside, I immediately noticed the contrast between the interior and the rustic exterior. What struck me immediately were the towering marble pillars and the resulting vaulted ceiling. The sense of space and volume that expanded upward was beautiful and in stark contrast to the exterior. What I mean is that we're used to seeing buildings with, say, three floors, but then upon entering, each level is about three meters high. Looking at the cathedral from the outside, I had the impression of entering and perhaps finding multiple levels inside, whereas in reality it was an enormous box supported by monumental columns. The cathedral was famous for having two important chapels inside: the Ring Chapel and the Chapel of San Bernardino. My sister had shared this cultural aspect with me, but I preferred to view the two works naively and only instinctively assess the sensations they would evoke. I must say that, despite its monumentality, I didn't study or photograph the most popular Ring Chapel very well, but I was more struck by the chapel of San Bernardino. I was especially fascinated by one scene in the painting, specifically the Madonna's fainting during Christ's crucifixion. The other important feature was the triangle with the eye above the chapel; a symbol of heightened consciousness and awareness of our spiritual nature, which transcends matter. Another very beautiful and interesting feature was the sacristy, where the ceiling featured an enormous fresco with a dominant use of very strong colors. Clearly, analyzing the painted scenes wasn't something I wanted to do at the time, and I photographed the work primarily to analyze it later. Overall, the visit inside the cathedral was a positive experience, but I undoubtedly could have made better use of it. However, being fascinated by the architectural nature of things, I somewhat put the artistic aspect and the subliminal messages conveyed through the paintings on the back burner. After leaving the cathedral, I had to leave my family behind me they wanted to do some shopping while I needed to explore the city further. I immediately rushed to the nearby building that housed the Galleria Nazionale dell’Umbria, which I mentioned earlier, to observe and photograph it up close. The building was very tall and the street it faced was very narrow, a detail that made it difficult to photograph it properly, but somehow I succeeded in my intent. The building had clearly been something very similar to a church, and not just because of the bell tower. As I've said in other posts, I don't believe churches or cathedrals were born as places of worship but rather as power stations and places of healing through the emission of frequencies. In the case of this building, there were two other important details: the entrance door with an arch featuring two spirals and numerous decorations, both symbols and statues. Above the central clock, which I believe had replaced a rose window over time, there was still the trace of a large triangular frame, a typical element often found not only in churches but throughout so-called neoclassical architecture. The building had undoubtedly been modified many times over time, and this complicated its understanding, relegating it to the realm of mystery but at the same time making it highly intriguing. What satisfied me most was the fact that the building immediately fascinated me instinctively, even before I looked at it rationally, proof that our sensations are the most reliable thing we can have, and which we often question. My unfocused exploration led me down the main street, where I admired another beautiful building, which I later learned was called Palazzo Landone. This five-story building, constructed with both exposed brick and smooth surfaces, had a simple design and was dominated by a series of large, symmetrically placed windows. It reminded me of many buildings in Rome, but this one in Perugia had two distinctive features: it was red and yellow, and it had a balcony that took up a third of the building, positioned between the second and third floors. On the ground floor, it housed a shop for a well-known fashion brand, and what I didn't like was the intrusive sign, which, in my opinion, ruined its aesthetic beauty. My stroll along the main street took me to Piazza Italia, a rectangular space with a statue of Vittorio Emanuele II at its center. The place was filled with greenery, with flowerbeds and tall trees. On two sides were ancient buildings, but I didn't photograph them carefully. This was because the atmosphere in the square was so calm that I even relaxed by chasing and photographing birds flitting through the flowerbeds. Beyond this square, the road ended at the Carducci Gardens, arguably the most beautiful and evocative spot in the city, as from there you could see the entire lower part of the city and the hilly panorama as far as the eye could see. The gardens themselves were a smaller version of Piazza Italia, with another statue in the center and a beautiful ancient building behind it, but with a captivating view of the hills. However, right at the far left was what was called the Carducci Belvedere, another triangular-shaped overlook from which the view was not only beautiful but also strategic. From there, looking in two different directions, I could see the Basilica of San Domenico on the left and the Church of San Giuliana on the right. The basilica particularly surprised me because it was similar in design to the cathedral, with exposed brick but regular, without the various protruding rows. It goes without saying that I immediately felt disappointed because, seeing it and therefore experiencing it for the first time, I had longed to see it up close and explore its interior. The Church of San Giuliana, on the other hand, viewed from the belvedere, had a small façade dominated by a central rose window, yet its length could be perceived thanks to the bell tower that rose much further back in the structure. These two buildings were certainly other very interesting works that deserved a visit, but unfortunately, due to lack of time, we were unable to see them in depth. The time spent there passed quickly, but I didn't notice it. After a while, my family joined me at the belvedere, where we took some last photos before leaving the city via the return journey. Having become popular thanks to a crime story, Perugia was for me a series of buildings that nevertheless lacked a soul. My curiosity about the city was precisely that: seeking something more than just a sad episode documented in real time by the mainstream. Even though my visit began at the site of the tragic event and even though I hadn't studied the city, I was confident that Perugia wouldn't disappoint me. My vague idea of a place just waiting to be discovered led me to discover a vast reality, full of mysteries, but related to architecture rather than crime stories. Perugia's buildings made me travel through time, to a virtual and hypothetical time where different styles were visibly intertwined and where no study can shed absolute light on their history. Perhaps because I had no idea what I would find, what I saw in Perugia was stimulating and a source of great inspiration. Above all, the contrast between the exterior and interior of the cathedral was something dreamlike that it was almost better to accept it as it was rather than investigate its true nature. In other posts, I've described the difference I make between places I visit after thoroughly studying them and those I enjoy learning about as I go. Perugia was probably one of the best of the latter, with its mix of styles and simple complexity. A.M.
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