There’s an earthiness about the Italian city of Genoa (Genova) that appeals to me. Perhaps it’s because it’s a port city. Maybe it’s because of the narrow laneways. Or it could be the rawness of the graffiti. Until recently, Genoa for me was all about pesto. Nothing more. I had no reason to visit, no inkling of what I might find, no opinion one way or another of what the city might offer. But that’s changed. I’ve become an ambassador, albeit self-appointed.
The sixth-largest city in Italy, Genoa is the capital of Liguria and home to more than 1.5 million people. People have been living there since 400-500 BC, which makes it one of the oldest, continuously lived-in cities in the world.
Italians seem to love their nicknames. We saw in Milan what two of the CityLife towers are affectionally called and Genoa follows suit.
Genoa was known as la Superba (the Superb one), la Dominante (the Dominant one), la Dominante dei mari (“the Dominant of the Seas), and la Repubblica dei magnifici (the Republic of the Magnificents). From the 11th century to 1528 it was officially known as the Compagna Communis Ianuensis (free municipality of Genova) and from 1580 as the Serenìscima Repùbrica de Zêna (Most Serene Republic of Genoa).
When we exited the train station, the first person to meet us was Christopher Columbus. Perhaps one of the city’s most famous sons, he was born in 1451 in Genoa. Had I known and had we had more time, I’d have paid my respects. Apparently, the house he lived in from the age of 4 was rebuilt in the eighteenth century and is now a museum, creatively name Colombus House.
There’s an excitement about the city that is palpable. A sense of ‘what next?’ Narrow lanes – shady alleyways bordered by colourful houses that develop vertically called carruggi – lead onto broad open squares. Turning a corner quickly becomes a wonderment. For the whole day, I was like a kid at Christmas. It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed that sense of discovery and how apt considering that both Columbus and, as we’ll see later, Marco Polo spent time there.
Economically, Genoa has had its ups and downs. It was very prosperous during the Middle Ages but when the war with Venice started (1378-1381), the republic went bankrupt. Something had to be done to pay its debts. And so saw the birth of the Bank of St George – Casa di San Giorgio. Among its customers, it looked after Christoper Columbus, Spain’s Ferdinand and Isabella, and apparently, Charles V owed them a bob or two. It’s a gorgeous building down by the port. No longer a bank, it’s now used by the government. There was a conference on and the lovely lady allowed us in to have a look-see as long as we didn’t disturb the proceedings. I had to swallow a couple of ‘oh mys!’. The wood panelling, the tiles, the floors. Beautiful.
But it’d been around before the bank took it over in 1407. Palazzo San Giorgio (Palace of St George) was built in 1260 by Guglielmo Boccanegra using materials from the demolished Venetian embassy in Constantinople donated by Michael VIII to reward Genoa for helping out against the Latin Empire (not to be confused with the Romans). Two years later, Boccanegra was deposed and had to go into exile. For a while, the palace was used as a prison. Its most famous inmate was likely Maro Polo; he spent his incarceration productively by dictating his memoirs.
Marco Polo was an inmate in the Genoese prison at the Palazzo di San Giorgio from 1296 to 1299, arrested for commanding a Venetian galley in a war against Genoa. While there, he told tales of his travels through Asia to his fellow prisoners and the guards alike, and his cellmate Rustichello da Pisa wrote them down
Like all Italian cities, Genoa has a plethora of churches, one more ornate than the next. The tenth-century Basilica di Santa Maria delle Vigne is a case in point. The fourteenth-century Croce Maior is quite beautiful, a most unusual depiction of Christ on a Cross. And then there’s the baby bibs!
Between the first and second altars of the right aisle of the basilica of Santa Maria delle Vigne, an isolated column of green Levanto marble, probably from the Roman era, is framed by truly singular votive offerings. In the 14th-15th century, the column was decorated with the image of a Madonna breastfeeding the Child, then inserted in the 18th century in a late Baroque-style aedicule. The Madonna della Colonna e del Latte was addressed, yesterday as today, to propitiate a birth for oneself or for others, to protect the pregnancy from possible problems and to give thanks after the birth.Precisely for this reason, bibs and cockades with embroidered names are hung on the sides of the image considered miraculous, pink or blue depending on gender.
I would have put money on it that the painting of the nun kneeling before the cross was of St Rita, an Augustinian nun from fourteenth-century Cascia, Italy. She is the patroness of impossible causes and hopeless circumstances. Yet I don’t see the painting listed on the list of what decorates the church. And I don’t know who it is catching the Baby Jesus – I’d guess St Peter, but I’d be guessing.
I was particularly intrigued by the Church of San Sisto (St Sixtus II) and its nativity of Our Lady, something I’d not seen before. There’s a statue of Our Lady lying on the altar and overhead is a statue of Her as a baby. The church was first built in the eleventh century to commemorate a battle that took place on 6 August 1087 – and given that that day was the day St Sixtus had died in 258, it was dedicated to him. It was restored in the eighteenth century, destroyed in 1825, and rebuilt in 1827, this time in a neoclassical style. The frescoed dome by Pietro Pellegrini is most unusual with its Corinthian colonnades and frescoes by Michel Cesare Danielli.
Wandering the streets with no particular place to go, we dipped in and out of open doors and fell upon the magnificent Palazzo Angelo Giovanni Spinola on Via Garibaldi, now owned by Deutsche Bank. It’s stunning. Back in the day, it was one of the 163 Palazzi dei Rolli of Genoa. These were private residences of families who would host notables visiting the city. Imagine it today. The Obamas are visiting Hungary and they come and stay with me in the village (I’m only elevating myself to aristocracy to illustrate a point – I certainly don’t have airs beyond my station). How ingenious was it to have the aristocrats foot the bill for state visits? Of the original 163 palaces, 42 of them are now part of UNESCO’s World Heritage Site Genoa: Le Strade Nuove and the system of the Palazzi dei Rolli. And lest anyone get above themselves, the palaces were graded: The A-list housed cardinals, princes, and viceroys; the B-list, feudal lords and governors; and the C-list, princes and ambassadors.
I mentioned earlier that for me, until now, Genoa was all about pesto.
Everyone knows the green coloured pesto from Italy. In Italian the word pestare means “to crush” or “to pound” and in this case refers to the way herbs are crushed in a marble mortar with a wooden pestle. The past participle of pestare is pestato which in its contracted form is more commonly known as pesto. Technically speaking Italy knows many different types of pestos but the most frequently savoured and most famous one is the typical Pesto alla Genovese. As the original name implies, it was created in Genoa and consists mainly of garlic, lots of fresh basil leaves, pine nuts, Parmesan cheese and olive oil.
And focaccia, but I hadn’t known that. It’s also where jeans come from, apparently. And there was I thinking jeans were the brainchild of Levi Strauss and Jacob Davis. And they were…sort of.
As an important harbour town Genoa developed the making of sturdy sails for their ships. The strong fabric of which sails were made became popular among sailors as it was cheap and sturdy. Genoa in Latin used to be written with a J instead of a G. The sturdy fabric became known as: Bleu de Gênes. Much later, in 1873, two USA immigrants, Levi Strauss and Jacob Davis, patented and commercialised resistant riveted pants made of denim and the Blue Jeans as we know them were born. Still, their origins lie in Genoa, Italy.
It’s a city that you have to pay attention to. Everything about it screams: Look at me! So many stories. So many statues. So many layers. I was there for the Adelaide Ristori exhibition (which runs till 22 January so you have time).
A curious thing I learned was that the buildings seem to have been added to over time. You can see the various ages and styles as your eye moves from bottom to top. You need to be paying attention and it helps hugely if you have an architect with you!
And there’s a strange penchant for windowless walls. The whole side or top floor of a building without real windows. What you see is painted on. Decorative illusionism.
Since the Renaissance, painted illusions creating optical tricks were popular especially in northern Italy. The Ligurians in particular used cosmetic exterior decoration on their facades to create an illusion of beauty. […] But the Ligurians have a reputation of being a pragmatic people, so by painting on windows, shutters and all kinds of adornments, they were able to dress up their homes without the added cost. They knew just how to dazzle the eye with charming appeal by elegant artistry.
And then there’s the noble floor, where the nobility lived, usually showcased with statues, balconies, and ornate features. The smaller windows above would have been the servants’ quarters with the top two floors added later again. Fascinating.
I mentioned earlier about the graffiti. While Banksy’s work has been exhibited in the city, I couldn’t find any record of him ever doing anything there. If graffiti had genres, like architecture, I’d call what Genoa has, brutalist. It’s messaging. And they don’t like cruise ships. I asked why. People disembark in their thousands, ram the narrow streets, and don’t spend any money. What’s to like? A – 2021 Fortune article titled An eyesore – an armada of ghostly cruise ships is clogging up the Italian Riveria and locals are fed up says it all.
As for this square being off limits to all troops:
On the walls of Genoa there are also other testimonies of closer days, they are almost faded and date back to the immediate post-war period, when the Anglo-American forces settled in Genoa at the end of World War II. A city reduced to exhaustion, in the urban fabric of the historic center there was a certain underworld, the risk of thefts and assaults was very high, there were also the temptations offered by the numerous street women. The military authorities of the Allied Command, with the aim of protecting young sailors from dangers of various kinds, imposed a drastic solution: the historical center became “off limits” for the allied troops and the access points to the old city were stamped with writings of prohibition.
We took the Art Nouveau lift from Piazza Portello up to Spianata Castelletto to get a panoramic view of the city below. The lift is immortalised in Giorgio Caproni’s poem, The Elevator; he plans on taking it when he heads up to heaven. The views are spectacular. I first became aware of what photographers call the golden hour when I was in Belgrade many moons ago. We hit Spianata at just the right time. The city below was bathed in gold and the sea was shimmering.
Genoa is a vibrant city, with so much to say for itself. If only people would listen.
Notes for next time
- The cemetery
- Columbus House
- Cathedral of San Lorenzo
- Check https://www.palazzideirolli.it/ to see when the Rolli days are (three times a year)
- Visit the Lantern
- Have lunch in Boccadasse – the fishing village of Genoa
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