Rome: Sacred Space or Old Friend?
The city of Rome could be considered to be the location of a plethora of ‘sacred spaces’ for a number of different social groups over a time period spanning millennia. It is for this reason (in combination with the fact that it is a city I know well and love excessively) I decided to focus on Rome through the lens of sacred space. Throughout the semester we have been grappling with the tension between the conception of sacred space as something that exists a priori, and the conception of sacred space as something that requires ritual action (ritual and/or action?) to imbue it with its sacral qualities. In thinking about Rome, which is and has been the site of pilgrimage for a number of different groups and individuals, we must necessarily engage with the question of whether there is a direct correlation between pilgrimage and sacred space. Following from this, what action and agency (if any) does the city-as-thing have in the production of sacred space, and how much does sacred space rely on the action of people? To relate these questions to my own personal experience I must ask how my own relationship with the city reflects these particular ways of thinking about sacred space.
As Rykwert (1976) describes in his examination of the founding of cities, the area within the walls of Rome (pomerium) was space considered to be divinely chosen and consecrated. Thus, by its very nature the area delineated by the walls of Rome was considered to be sacred space from the time of its foundation. For Christians, places within the city developed sacred meaning with the increasing popularity of pilgrimages to the shrines of martyrs and the (supposed) grave of St. Peter (Ditchfield 2005). The sacrality of this space was made manifest in the establishment of the seat of the papacy in Rome and the construction of the Basilica of St. Peter. For Jews there is the sacred space of the Jewish ghetto. The Jewish community was one of the earliest established in Europe (1st century BCE), but the history of the Jews in Rome was a checkered one. Roman Jews experienced periods of relative freedom and autonomy but also times of extreme oppression. Although the Jewish community in Rome is currently a vibrantly living one, much like their Catholic counterparts visiting the altars of martyrs, many Jews go to Rome to connect with a place where people of their same faith were persecuted. However, it is not only for religiously affiliated groups for which Rome holds ‘sacred space’. The city could also be considered a site of pilgrimage and a sacred space for people (of a more secular bent) who come to see the exemplary works of art and architecture from the Renaissance and Baroque periods.
Rome also serves as a site of pilgrimage for students of ancient Rome. That is the way in which I first experienced the city. I had just graduated high school and could not wait to see all the places I had learned about in my art history class—the Forum Romanum, Colosseum, Palatine Hill, Pantheon. That first trip to the city was definitely like a pilgrimage for me, and I think it would be reasonable to say that at that time those places felt sacred (but sacred in a very secular, academic way). Although the city had long since expanded beyond the original pomerium and speeding motorini and tourists were an integral part of the experience, I still felt that the city held something special (perhaps sacral). Moreover, on that first visit I was interacting with the city as an object—it and all its contents were there for me to consume.
When I lived in Rome for two years after I graduated from college I engaged in a very different relationship with the city. All those awe-inspiring places that I first visited as a high school graduate still held a certain resonance for me, but they became less remarkable as I became more familiar with the city. In my work as a tour guide, the Forum Romanum and St. Peter’s Basilica became my office. The places that once inspired wonder for me became mundane (but no less wonderful). Rather, the small, inconsequential details of the city soon held more meaning for me than the conspicuous monuments—there was the flower market right across from my apartment, my favorite pizza shop where they are always rude to you but it doesn’t matter because the pizza is so delicious, and the bar where all my friends and I would go after work. There was a fountain in Campo de Fiori on which I would like to sit and eat gelato as I watched people go by, and my favorite spoilia on an inconspicuous wall in the Jewish ghetto. I felt that the city was slowly revealing its treasures to me. This happened over a period of time with many actions frequently repeated and many places frequently visited. In this way, instead of seeing Rome from the perspective of a pilgrim (and I am defining this here, in part, by a relationship with the city in which it is an object for consumption), rather as Pahl (2003) suggests, I began to experience it as being like a friend. In this sense, the city became a subject in a co-constitutive relationship with me (Casey 2001)—where it was just as much an agent as I.
This brings me back to questions of how (urban) space becomes sacred. As I discussed above, the city was and is certainly sacred to a diverse array of people, many of whom came and continue to come to the city as pilgrims. However, the place must already be sacred in order for it to attract pilgrims. Therefore, the action of pilgrimage cannot make a place sacred. But that should not be an argument for the a priori sacredness of space in an Eliadian manner. There must be some intersection between the action of people and the recognition of space as sacred. I think this is possibly where ritual, meaning, and memory can help us to think about the production of sacred space. These thoughts are not particularly flushed out, but a beginning point from which to begin to consider the ways in which people think about, interact with, and make place.
Pizza from my favorite shop. And beer. And Howie.
Spolia in the Jewish ghetto
Basilica San Pietro at dusk (a 'sacred space' from a distance)
Posted at Apr 15/2008 11:20AM:
claudia: Keffie, although we approached Rome somewhat differently in our descriptions, we each highlight one thing especially. In both, while Rome is a city of architectural wonders and a site that draws in visitors (and pilgrims) from all over, the little, cultural, sensory aspects of the city personalize it, ritualize it. These elements of the city make it sacred for us---not the ancient designation of the space as sacred.
Posted at Apr 15/2008 12:24PM:
Heidi: I found it so interesting that your impression of Rome's landmarks as "sacred spaces" seems to have decreased or been transformed as you began to know the city more intimately. This raises some interesting questions about a certain requisite distance and unfamiliarity in our notions of sacred space that will be useful to explore in class today!
Posted at Apr 15/2008 01:31PM:
Elisa: I like your distinctions between sacred space as subject and object, especially with respect to pilgrimage. Does the experience of pilgrimage change when it is located in an urban setting? You mention the secular aspects of pilgrimage that now attract pilgrims (or tourists? I am still torn on this issue) to Rome so in essence it is ritual action that turns secular sites (ie museums) into sacred ones.
Posted at Apr 21/2008 10:52PM:
Keffie: One thing that I like about your exercise is that for you, the "sacredness" of the city did not apply to Eliade's so called hierophantic experience, with this automatic manifestation of the sacred. It was something that happened over time. As we evolve, it seems that our perceptions of certain things do as well. I also like how your interaction with the sacred was not inherently religious, but very secular. Rome is full of mysteries, some that will never be known.
