Siena’s 13th-century cathedral and striped bell tower are one of the most illustrious examples of Romanesque-Gothic style in Italy. This ornate but surprisingly secular shrine to the Virgin Mary is slathered with colorful art inside and out, from inlaid-marble to stained-glass windows.
The cathedral’s interior showcases the work of the greatest sculptors of successive eras – Pisano, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Berninni – and the Piccolomini Library features a series of 15th-century frescoes chronicling the adventures of Siena’s philanderer-turned pope, Aeneas Piccolomini.
This architectural feast of green, white, pink and gold is quite a trip. The Duomo sits atop Siena’s highest point, with one of the most extravagant facades in all of Europe.
Like a medieval altarpiece, the façade is divided into sections, each frame filled with patriarchs and prophets, studded with roaring gargoyles, and topped with prickly pinnacles.
Stepping inside, we find the heads of 171 popes – who reigned from the time of St. Peter to the 12th century – peering down from above, looking over the fine inlaid art on the floor. With a forest of striped columns, a coffered dome, a large stained-glass window at the far end ( a copy), and an art gallery’s worth of early Renaissance art, this is one busy interior. If you look closely at the popes, you’ll see the same four faces repeated over and over.
For almost two centuries (1373-1547), 40 artists paved the marble floor with scenes from the Old Testament, allegories, and intricate patterns. The series starts near the entrance with historical allegories: the larger, more elaborate scenes surrounding the altar are mostly stories form the Old Testament.
Many of the floor panels are roped off and covered to prevent further wear and tear. The second pavement panel from the entrance depicts Siena as a she-wolf. The proud city of Siena is the center of the Italian universe, orbited by such lesser lights as Roma, Florentia (Florence), and Pisa.
The fourth pavement panel from the entrance is the Fortune Panel, with Lady Luck (lower right) arriving on earth, where she teeters back and forth on a ball and a tipsy boat. The lesson? Fortune is an unstable foundation for life.
On the right wall hangs a dim painting of St. Catherine (4th from entrance). Siena’s homegrown saint had a vision in which she mystically married Christ.
The Piccolomini Altar was commissioned by the Sienese-born Pope Pius III (born Francesco Piccolomini) but was never used. The altar is most interesting for its statues: one by Michelangelo and three by his students.
Michelangelo was originally contracted to do 15 statues, but another sculptor had started the marble blocks, and Michelangelo’s heart was never in the project. He personally finished the figure of St. Paul – which is clearly more interesting than the bland, bored saints above him. 😊
At the far end of the church, high up above the altar, is the rose window. Made in 1288 and dedicated to the Virgin Mary, it’s a kaleidoscope of colors and intricate designs. This is a copy of the original.
The octagonal Pisano’s Pulpit (1268) rests on the backs of lions, symbols of Christianity triumphant. Like the lions, the Church eats its catch (devouring paganism) and nurses the cubs. The seven relief panels tell the life of Christ in rich detail.
The pulpit is the work of Nicola Pisano (1220 – 1278), the “Giotto of sculpture,” whose revival of classical forms (columns, sarcophagus-like relief panels) signaled the coming Renaissance. His son Giovanni (1240 – 1319) carved many of the panels, mixing his dad’s classicism and realism with the decorative detail and curvy lines of French Gothic.
A panel on the floor depicts the Slaughter of the Innocents. Herod (on the left), sitting enthroned amid Renaissance arches, orders the massacre of all babies to prevent the coming of the promised Messiah.
It’s a chaotic scene of angry soldiers, grieving mothers, and dead babies, reminding locals that a republic ruled by a tyrant will always experience misery.
Donatello’s St. John the Baptist, the rugged saint in his famous rags, stands in this quiet chapel. Donatello, the aging Florentine sculptor whose style was now considered passe’ in Florence, came here to build bronze doors for the church (similar to Ghiberti’s in Florence). Donatello didn’t complete the door project, but he did finish this bronze statue in 1457.
The Chigi Chapel – also known as the Chapel of the Madonna del Voto – is almost beyond words. To understand by Bernini is considered the greatest Baroque sculptor, one only needs to step into this sumptuous chapel – which was designed in the early 1660s for Fabio Chigi – a.k.a. Pope Alexander VII).
When one looks at the two Bernini statues that frame the doorway: Mary Magdalene in a state of spiritual ecstasy and St. Jerome playing the crucifix like a violinist lost in heavenly music.
The painting over the altar is the Madonna del Voto, a Madonna and Child adorned with a real crown of gold and jewels (painted by a Sienese master in the mid-13th century). In typical medieval fashion, the scene is et in the golden light of heaven.
Mary has the almond eyes, long fingers, and golden folds in her robe that are found in orthodox icons of the time. Still, this Mary tilts her head and looks out sympathetically, ready to listen to the prayers of the faithful. This is the Mary to whom the Palio is dedicated, dear to the hearts of the Sienese.
In thanks, they give offerings of silver hearts and medallions, many of which now hang on the walls to the right and left as you exit the chapel.
Brilliantly frescoed, the Piccolomimi Library captures the exuberant, optimistic spirit of the 1400, when humanism and the Renaissance was born. The never-restored frescoes look nearly as vivid now as the day they were finished 550 years ago.
The painter Pinturicchio (1454 – 1513) was hired to celebrate the life of one of Siena’s hometown boys – a man many would call “the first humanist,” Aeneas Piccolomini (1405 – 1464), who became Pope Pius II. Each of the 10 scenes is framed by an arch, as if Pinturicchio were opening a window onto the spacious 3-D world we inhabit.
The library also contains intricately decorated, illuminated music scores and a statue ( a Roman copy of a Greek original) of the Three Graces, who almost seem to dance to the beat. The oddly huge sheepskin sheets of music are from the days before individual hymnals – they had to be so bi that many singers could read the music from a distance.
Appreciate the fine painted decorations on the music – the gold-leaf highlights, the blue tones from expensive ultramarine (made from precious lapis lazuli) , and the miniature figures. All of this exquisite detail was lovingly crafted by the Benedictine monks for the glory of God.