Spoleto

Spoleto is a city I visited with my family during our 2022 trip to Umbria. That day, after visiting Cascia in the morning, we traveled to Spoleto in the afternoon, taking advantage of the last hours of daylight. For my sister and I, it was actually a return to the city, as when I followed a gymnastics team in previous years, we had already been to Spoleto for some competitions. My regret during my first visit was that I only took photographs of the city with my iPhone 4, as I had a camera with me at the time, but only a telephoto lens for photographing the competitions. I had really liked Spoleto's architecture, and I was happy to be able to return and take some beautiful photos with my camera. During my first visit, I only stayed a couple of days, and the morning before leaving, we went to visit the Ponte delle Torri. Not only was it a beautiful structure, but I only had my phone to take photos, but it also rained all day that morning. Unfortunately, fate was cruel, and in 2022, when we arrived in Spoleto, rain was again awaiting us. Personally, I didn't lose heart and took that event more as a challenge than a disappointment; I wanted to photograph the city and I would have done it at any cost!
Spoleto's urban planning was unique because, while the new city developed on a valley plain, the historic center extended up the hill. The watershed between these two distinct configurations was a sort of gateway to the city. It was a three-level structure characterized by two large arches that unfortunately served as tunnels for cars. Although connected on either side to two other regularly shaped structures, it was clear that these were newer and that the central arched building was actually just part of a much larger and different structure. Today, looking on Google Maps, I saw that the area in front of the structure has been pedestrianized with the construction of a large crescent-shaped sidewalk, where cars are no longer able to pass under the arches and reach the square that was once used as a parking lot. From the square, several streets opened up, gradually climbing toward the historic center; Corso Garibaldi was the main and most popular street, full of shops and restaurants. However, walking along it meant going in the opposite direction to one of Spoleto's most interesting sites: the cathedral. On my previous visit, I'd always enjoyed climbing to the cathedral by taking different routes, but that day, since I was with my parents, I preferred to take one of the shorter ones. This didn't prevent difficulties, as every street was steep, especially near the cathedral, where the elevation gain increased significantly. However, it was precisely this characteristic of Spoleto that offered the most beautiful and characteristic views. The narrow streets with houses almost touching at the front, the various ancient arches connecting the structures and in turn housing dwellings within, were a unique form of architecture typical of ancient villages. Even in this case, however, it was clear that these were multiple structures built and massed over time; in several places, in fact, it was possible to see structures resembling buttresses, joining different, more recent buildings. During our climb, the first beautiful work we saw was the Church of San Filippo Neri, a 17th-century structure constructed of travertine. Its construction wasn't particularly elaborate or richly decorated, yet it had a significant presence compared to the surrounding structures. Except for a coat of arms atop the tallest triangle, the façade seemed bare, like a base where more decorations would later be added. The two niches where statues are normally placed were empty, and overall it gave me the appearance of something still in need of completion. We didn't visit the interior because we didn't have enough time.
We reached the cathedral square from a side street that took us right in front of the building. Spoleto's cathedral square was truly distinctive and unique due to its slightly triangular shape and the fact that it sloped uphill from the cathedral itself. The brown terracotta paving was another distinctive feature that gave it personality and identified it. The cathedral's structure, while not imposing and seemingly simple, actually had details that I was able to notice using the camera's zoom lens, but were difficult to perceive with a normal gaze. Built on three levels, the cathedral had a portico at the bottom, a first level with five rose windows, and then the triangular upper section with three more rose windows and a fairly large mosaic of archons depicting Jesus in the center with two figures on either side. To the left of the structure was the bell tower, which, unlike the cathedral, was instead constructed of very large squared stones. There were also some details I only noticed later in the photos, such as two telamons that were part of a colonnade located directly beneath the central rose window on the first level. Also surrounding this rose window were tall mythological figures such as winged animals and an angel. However, there were further details that I believe were works in progress over time and represented closures. On the third level, to the sides of the central mosaic, there were two more arches, but they were closed with bricks of the same type as the structure. The same was true for some rose windows, which were walled up on the inside rather than protected by traditional glass. As I've written elsewhere, I believe the rose windows originally served an energetic function through vibrations, so the wall behind them seemed more like a deliberate closure to me. Overall, as I said before, the cathedral's seemingly simple façade had stories, some visible, others yet to be explored and discovered.

Church of San Filippo Neri

Spoleto's cathedral square

Personally, before entering the cathedral, I wanted to continue the climb alone and see the "Ponte delle Torri" but fate decreed that I visit the interior with my family because shortly after our arrival in the square, it started to rain. Inside, too, the structure followed a simple design, with arched side aisles and a smooth finish. There were no frescoes on the roof, and its architecture was not complex. However, there were some strange details, such as stone Corinthian capitals on pillars that were of a different construction type. I don't know if the cathedral had been rebuilt later on older foundations, but those capitals gave me that impression. Except for the checkerboard-patterned tile floor, the organs, and some large paintings, everything else seemed more recent. Only the apse had a large fresco on the roof, which gave me the impression of being part of an older structure. As usual, I was drawn primarily to the fresco depicting the Annunciation. Nearby, I also had confirmation that the cathedral had certainly been rebuilt, as I came across a very old and worn section, undoubtedly ruins of the original structure. It consisted of a series of arches, some of which had frescoes, some perfectly preserved, others now lost. Without studying the official narrative, but simply by following logic and observation, I understood that the cathedral was a mixture of ancient and reconstructed parts, which confirmed the oddities seen on the façade I described earlier. I like to imagine what happened to the structure over time and what its original function was, then usurped by religion; my independent imagination, which I prefer to the narratives of official scholars, who are nothing more than slaves to masters who perpetuate a misleading and convoluted official narrative.
For some strange reason, I left the cathedral convinced it had stopped raining, when in fact it was the opposite. I wanted to see Ponte delle Torri, but the weather wasn't favorable, especially since the road to the bridge was all uphill. This was a destination I strongly desired, and after a few moments of reflection, I opened my umbrella and headed uphill, determined not only to see the bridge again but also to photograph it. Despite everything, I arrived there in about ten minutes and found the lighting to be acceptable and atmospheric. The sand-colored Ponte delle Torri stood out clearly among the green vegetation, forming a sort of inverted pyramid due to the valley's contours. What I noticed were two towers on the opposite side, one very tall and the other smaller, also built of brick like the bridge, which I hadn't noticed during my first visit. The bridge's name probably also derived from the presence of those towers, the nature of which I was unfamiliar with. The bridge consisted of about ten arches, and the finishes were rounded rather than square. Scaffolding stood at the base, a sign that maintenance work was underway. Challenging the rain, I held the umbrella in my left hand and snapped photos with my right. Rather than focusing on composition, I snapped continuously, trying to get at least a few decent shots. My goal was to cross the bridge from the opposite side, where the pedestrian walkway flanked the high wall, which I had walked along the entire length of the first time I was there. Unfortunately or fortunately, as I passed in front of the bridge entrance, it was closed due to maintenance issues. This detail, on the one hand, made me feel bad, but on the other, I took it as a sign of fate that prohibited me from crossing the bridge in adverse weather conditions. At that point, sheltering under some trees, I tried to take photos of the bridge from the opposite side, including some colorful plants to obtain more personal shots. The time spent around the bridge seemed long because it was difficult, but in reality I stayed there for no more than ten minutes, after which I returned towards the center, taking those prohibitive conditions and the fact that the bridge was closed and therefore impossible to explore, as an invitation to return to Spoleto.
Reaching my family waiting in the cathedral and then continuing the descent into the valley with them was a challenging undertaking. With the rain, the pavement, especially the older stone ones, was slippery, so we had to proceed carefully and slowly. Once we reached the lower section, the rain began to ease, at least giving us some relief as we reached the car, symbolically bidding farewell rather than goodbye. The return to Spoleto wasn't exactly what I'd hoped for, but perhaps I'm always too demanding, as in the end, despite the rain, I still managed to do almost everything I'd planned. Even the inconveniences of the bad weather were easily endured with my family, where I had to carefully hold my mother down a long stone ramp. In the end, the rain was treated more like a game than a nuisance, and ultimately, the photos took on an atmosphere more suited to a hillside location with predominantly stone buildings. I have no plans to return to Umbria, and therefore to Spoleto, at the moment, but next time I'll definitely choose my visit carefully; a day with nothing but cloudless skies.

The Annunciation

Ponte delle Torri

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A.M.