6/10 Brunelleschi

Today we looked at some more of the work of the master Renaissance architect, Brunelleschi. It seems as though we are constantly looking at works by the same artists: Donatello, Brunelleschi, di Cambio, Michelangelo, Vasari, etc. (forgive me if I’ve omitted anyone). It just amazes me to think of the multiple commissions these people received here in Florence and around Italy. By the time Michelangelo was my age, he had already completed the Pieta and had started on David, not to mention the countless other minor works he had finished as well. It almost makes me feel like I have yet to achieve anything of worth so far in my 26 years. Now, I am absolutely NOT comparing myself to him in any way, but it says something about the difference in our culture today from theirs. The true Renaissance artists were so dedicated to their work and the quality of their craftsmanship is seemingly unparalleled today. I think we take for granted some of their genius, as today we concern ourselves mostly with getting the cheapest materials available to be used on a project in the shortest amount of time; our sense of craftsmanship has dwindled significantly. I digress.

Brunelleschi’s Foundling Hospital, which was one of his first major works to be completed after he had studied in Rome and returned to Florence, is defined on 3 sides of a square piazza by a loggia with Romanesque arches. Other distinctive features about the loggia include its dedication to the Corinthian order, slender columns, a rather stately appearance, its simplicity, clarity, and dignity that the whole composition assumes as it wraps around the piazza, the medallions between the arches (in the Robbiana style), and the centered windows on the 2^nd story. I wanted to separate out one feature from the rest because it is so distinctive and I had not come across it yet: the sail vault. Underneath the loggia in the covered space is a series of vaults that derive their shape from two barrel vaults colliding. Normally, one would assume the resultant intersection would be some type of ribbing or groin vault. Here, the vaults seem to billow up as though they were pieces of cloth filled with air, giving the loggia a feeling of spaciousness. No visible rib lines are present; the underside of these structures is smooth.

Unfortunately for the next church we visited that day, it had not received the same façade treatment as some of the others we had previously visited. The church of San Lorenzo on the exterior looks like what the church of Santa Croce would have looked like for at least 400 years: bare, austere stone masonry. We never learned why this is the case. Maybe we visited it within that 400 year period that Santa Croce experienced; perhaps in another 200 years it will finally receive a proper façade. That’s what’s so fascinating about visiting some of these churches in the state that they’re in: we are just a part of the continuum of building activity of Florence. It has begun before our time and will continue after we’re gone. But to see this church in its current state is quite a sight as many people in the future might not be able to see it like we do today. It was the Parish church of the Medici family, and many of them are buried within.

Brunelleschi was again commissioned to complete the interior of the church, and it bears much of the signatures from some of his earlier work. It features sail vaults like the Foundling Hospital, Pietra Serena (dark stone) as in the Pazzi Chapel, 2 levels of clerestory windows, built-in side chapels, slender columns, a rather bare altar, and a wildly innovative composite column capital that has two tiers of cornices above it, matching the cornice that runs along the entire upper story. It has Romanesque arches that set up a pleasing rhythm which continues onto the chapels at the altar, which run parallel to each other (as opposed to Gothic chapels which are more radial in shape). Overall the design seems simplistic but there are so many well-executed finishing touches and all of the parts seem well crafted and proportioned to the whole composition.

The Old Sacristy within San Lorenzo is similar to the Pazzi Chapel in scale and form. It holds many of the principal members of the Medici family and features a well-executed pumpkin dome with scalloped forms in between the ribs. Most of the decoration here was done by Donatello including the cherubs and medallions. The altar bay has its own mini dome with celestial hemisphere, similar again to Brunelleschi’s Chapel at Santa Croce.

The final stop on our journey through Renaissance architecture today was the church of Santa Maria Novella, one of the few buildings designed by Leon Battista Alberti, who wrote The Ten Books on Architecture, the 1^st treatise on the subject since Vitruvius. His work was mainly on the façade, as the body of the church, which began construction in 1278, was completed between the 13^th and 14^th centuries. It is similar in appearance to San Miniato and Santa Croce because of its multi-colored façade and similar division of geometries throughout the façade. While we have come across this feature at some of the other churches we have visited, I’d like to discuss one feature that is prevalent in this period: designing a façade that is completely separate from that of the rest of the body of the church. Why would the architect design a building such that the face of it has no relation to that of the rest of its mass? A simple answer would be that the facades were often applied centuries after the body of the church was completed, thus leaving little opportunity to create a cohesive composition. A more thorough investigation, I believe, reveals that since the congregation always tended to gather on the front side of the church in the parvis where other daily activities would occur, the idea behind having a face on a church was to address the public and scale this side of the church up in order to give it a sense of dignity and welcome the public into the building. Less often, the public would have access to the sides of the church where the exterior cladding would often remain of bare stone. There was often no reason to experience the church as a three-dimensional object. The function was more often a processional one, where the face of the church welcomed people inside where they would be greeted by some awe-inspiring structure and tremendous volume.

Alberti’s take on the typical Renaissance façade, therefore, is somewhat between that of Brunelleschi and Michelangelo. Although he did write one of the most well-respected treatises on architecture, I tend not to like this façade as much as I do the ones by his contemporaries. Yes, the part to whole relationships are there, but they tend not to be as well-crafted as a Brunelleschi building or as daring as a Michelangelo building. His treatise, on the other hand, should be appreciated for what it is: a book that set the stage for the dignification of the architect as theorist, one whose designs are then executed by someone else. By the 18^th and 19^th centuries, we see the complete separation of the designer and builder. Was this a good movement in architecture? Or should the architect know a little about both fields in order to succeed? Vitruvius would say the latter, as would the modernists. Wherever your allegiance may lie, there is no doubt of Alberti’s influence on the world of architecture.

6/9 Siena

Today’s schedule included a day trip to Seina and Pienza. The Tuscany region was definitely one of the most beautiful natural landscapes that I have ever seen. Apart from all of the buildings we see from day to day, it was a nice change of pace to get out into the country a bit and see the expansive Italian countryside. The Romans were the ones who first settled this area around the 1^st century AD. Its name was derived from Senius and the town was originally called Sena Julia. It became a republic in the 12^th century through the wealth of the banking families who ruled the area. Siena also had quite the rivalry with its neighboring Florence, as both cities vied for control, the height of the conflicts coming in the 13^th century. Each city seems to have its own local saints, and Siena is no different. Catherine, who was a 14^th century saint of the Dominican order, helped the Pope return to Rome from exile. Bernardino, who was of the Franciscan order, helped the victims of the plague simultaneously to Catherine.

Arriving in Siena felt like a smaller version of Florence. All of the buildings had the same medieval feel to them and the streets were just as narrow and winding. This city felt like a pure example of a Renaissance town. However, what was a surprise for me was seeing the comparatively expansive Piazza del Campo and Palazzo Pubblico in the heart of Siena. Snaking through the tight streets made the reveal of the Piazza that much more impressive, as it seems to cover a whole football field. Siena was founded through a process of synoecism, the three loosely knit communities in the area coming together to form a tight political bond. This is reflected in the architecture of the piazza, as the 9 divisions of the square represent 3 for each of the communities. The sloping site toward the Palazzo also communicates an idea that they are coming together, forming this bond, and ruling with an understanding that each should in theory have an equal say in the running of the government.

The façade of the building is also slightly concave, which receives the piazza in a way and reflects it at the same time. Its tower, the Torre del Mangia, which is often emulated in other cities around the world, was built around 1340 and is today used as a placemarker and a wayfinding device for those navigating the city. You compare this singular wayfinding device to that of New York, which has hundreds of them, and my opinion is that I would much rather live in a city that has 1 which I can always count on and orient myself to. It also helps that it’s twice as tall as the buildings around it, making it easy to locate. Often times I will find my way around a city by looking at the sun and telling which direction to go from there. For those in the Renaissance who weren’t learned or literate, it was probably much easier to find your way around by looking at a fixed object and navigating that way.

One could say the other marker in this city would have to be its Duomo, Santa Maria Assunta. Because of the rivalry between Siena and Florence, each attempted to build a church which was taller than the other. I can’t accurately say which is taller today, but the plans for the Siena Duomo at least included a dome which was to be taller than that of Florence; however it was scaled back (in height?) due to the Black Plague which swept across Europe. After the plague had subsided, work resumed on the church with a heavy emphasis on decorating the interior and exterior to its fullest potential. One could say that the church is of a Romanesque design because of the arches on the lower façade, but you could also claim that it has some gothic influences because of the pointed pediments above the arches and the heavy decoration.

The influences from Florence are also quite evident in the façade, as a polychrome marble scheme developed by Giovanni Pisano seems to be sort of a cousin to the Duomo an hour north of this location. What is striking about the upper façade in relation to the lower is that the tri-partite design doesn’t quite match up vertically. Naturally, one would conclude that they were designed by different architects at different times, but it makes you wonder why they chose to go in this direction. Was it simply to be different for difference’s sake? Is it a result of some programmatic element on the inside that forces each of the divisions to not line up? Nonetheless, it’s not as if the design is displeasing to the eye; rather the larger bay in the upper façade seems to give it more weight and importance. The architects must have chosen to want to get away from the pure rationality of some of their Renaissance counterparts. Another interesting item to note was that the main doors are much more recent than I would have expected; they were designed and installed in 1958. Compare this to the doors on the Pantheon, which were removed just once in the last ~2000 years!

I can’t begin to talk about the interior of the church without mentioning the black and white striped pattern that permeates the columns and virtually every surface inside. It does create somewhat of a dizzying effect to the eye and is quite distinctive from every other church we have visited so far. What’s also interesting about the columns is that they’re composite columns in a quatrefoil arrangement: four pilasters attached to a square core. This shape is present in many of the Gothic Revival and Renaissance works of art and architecture. I am unaware of the symbolic nature of the shape, but it does give the columns an extra dimension to them, allowing the pilasters to sometimes rise above the height of the square core, break the cornice and continue on to the story above. Now as the main nave of the church was intended to be the transept of the much larger church mentioned before, you can see how daring and ambitious this building project would have been. The nave alone as it constitutes the church today is as large as some of the other structures that we have visited which only claim to have the nave as its main architectural move.

A quick mention about the climb up the campanile at the Piazza. We had about 30 or so minutes to return to the group as we were getting in line to climb the stairwell. As it can only handle a certain amount of people at once, we were becoming a bit antsy that we A) wouldn’t be able to climb it in time and B) would potentially miss the bus to the next site. Nonetheless our patience paid off as we were allowed access once enough people left the tower. The next 20 minutes after that was quite the whirlwind. From what I can remember we literally RAN up the steps, took as many quick panoramas and photos with us in them as we could, posing for 3-4 seconds at once; time was short! It was definitely worth the rush, though, as the photos from up there overlooking the Tuscan countryside were some of the most beautiful images I have captured so far. The landscape in Tuscany seems so pristine, innocent, and untouched. Its rolling hills and green pastures are some of the most picturesque in probably all of the world.

“Quick! The group is leaving in….5 minutes and we’re still on top of this tower!”

A race to the bottom ensued, and we met up with the rest of the group as they were leaving in just the nick of time. Clearly worth the rush. And so was born the term “speed touristing” that we would use to describe any time we had to rush through a site and take as many pictures as possible. Our motto was “we’ll appreciate it on the computer screen”. We’re so modern.

6/8 Renaissance Florence

Built where the Arno is its narrowest, the Ponte Vecchio is one of the most photographed and well known bridges in the entire world. When we arrived early in the morning, it was already filled with tourists eager to either buy the ridiculously expensive jewelry at the shops on the bridge or simply admire standing on a true landmark of Florence. It is quite odd to see shops ON a bridge.

I can’t remember any bridge we have crossed so far in the trip that was programmed like the Ponte Vecchio. Amazingly, it was spared during WWII. Bridges are very often important communication devices and material transporters during wartime, yet both the Allies and Germans must have realized the historical significance of this bridge and decided to preserve it. It was constructed in 1345 but for 200 years did not have the goldsmiths, silversmiths, and jewelers set up on the bridge like we see today. Above the shops there are art galleries that in the Renaissance times were used as tunnels that would secretly bring members of the aristocrat families unseen across the bridge. It was a volatile time to be an aristocrat. Your power was constantly being challenged, and various families were always vying to maintain control over Florence and the entire Tuscan region. I can completely understand why they didn’t want to be seen in public, as this would risk their safety and the stability of the family. Another reason we see shops on top of the bridge today is that there were no zoning laws in the Middle Ages to separate land uses. Construction would happen more or less haphazardly, with no regard for heavy industry being placed next to residences. Shops would be built on top of bridges, irrespective of the desires of some to have a specific area for that type of industry.

Walking northeast, we entered the Piazza della Signoria, home of the Palazzo Vecchio and the Uffizi Gallery. This area has been the center for political life in Florence since the 14^th century, hosting the triumphal return of the Medici family, among others. It is rather odd for a “square” to have an L-shaped configuration, but this affords different viewpoints from all of the entrances to the piazza, and gives it more of a dynamic feel than some of the other squares we have visited. It really is a conglomerate of different styles and building types. No datum lines or unifying elements hold the square together, save for the fact that all the buildings are arranged around an open space. The Loggio dei Lanza, a large, three-bayed space that opens onto the plaza. Underneath the bays are statues that represent the height of Renaissance sculpture and the periods that immediately followed it (not to mention the copy of David by Michelangelo which stands outside the loggia). These sculptures are some of the most dramatic pieces I have seen yet on this trip, and are made even more so by through their presentation, under the enormous bays of the loggia and accessible for the public to see.

The Uffizi Gallery, which adjoins the Piazza della Signoria, along with the Palazzo Vecchio constitutes a building program which is at the heart of the governmental activity in Florence. Designed by Giorgio Vasari, the Gallery is home to some of the most famous statues and paintings from the High Renaissance. It is attached to the piazza with an elongated rectangular form that warps the typical courtyard configuration of an ancient Roman domus and turns the open public space into the spectacle as well as the counterpart to the building itself. The Palazzo Vecchio is an old palace building type that was originally a town hall, now used as a museum. It was also a residence at one time, as it was used by the Medici family and Cosimo I starting in 1540. Starting in the 1300’s and continuing throughout most of the Renaissance, it has undergone constant renovations, expansions, replacement of old parts, etc. It has also been through a number of name changes: it has been called the Palazzo Signoria, Palazzo del Popolo, and Palazzo Ducali until the current name was settled on by the Medici family. One of the more interesting features I found was how its tower is corbelled out to be flush with the face of the upper story. It’s quite an imposing structure that was probably very daring for its time due to the fact that it feels as though it will collapse at any time.

The interior courtyard is also another structure to take note of, since the fountain in the center was designed by Vasari, the alternating circular and octagonal columns designed by Michelozzo and made for the Medici family, and the oval proportions being pleasing to the eye. Further inside is the Hall of the 500, a city council room designed again by Vasari who actually raised the ceiling 23’.

We also visited the church of Orsanmichele, which is located facing the ancient Roman decumanus. What is notable about this structure is its myriad of architectural niches containing various biblical saints, some of which were designed by Donatello (St. George), Ghiberti (St. John the Baptist), and Di Banco (St. Steven). Originals of the sculptures are located in the National Sculpture Museum. This church was originally dedicated to the archangel Michael and dates to 1337.

I fully enjoyed visiting the Palazzo Davantzati because it gave a glimpse into what life was like for a wealthy Renaissance merchant family. Originally built in the 14^th century, it was meant to blend in with other tower-like houses constructed around that area and of the same time period. Unfortunately, most of them have been destroyed. We are only left with this example, which is quite an exquisite one. It has an interior courtyard, 4 stories, and an upper loggia, all signs that the family who constructed it was high up in the societal food chain of Renaissance Florence. While the courtyard feels somewhat small in size, it is further expanded by being opened up through a series of arched colonnades that surround its perimeter. It also feels more expansive than it should due to the adequate amount of light that pours in from the upper skylight. As we move further into the upcoming centuries, I feel it is extremely important that we try to preserve as many of these examples of 14^th century living that we can.

Places like Ostia, while somewhat intact, amazingly, and able to show what life was sort of like, we can get an exact idea of what a wealthy family could have gone through on a day to day basis. The building is in excellent condition, made of sandstone, and should remain open to the public and receive funding to keep preserving it for future generations. I asked the question in some of my Rome journals whether it was more important to keep the idea of the building and whatever writings or drawings were associated with it, or the building itself. In this case, we can do both. To think that this building has survived for 700 years in this good of a condition and to think of the state of historic preservation in the 1400’s just seems mind boggling. Did the architects of the Renaissance even debate about demolishing important buildings from 700AD? Or were they so far buried underground that any building projects that went on around the city didn’t consider attempting to find out if they were building on top of something historical? The answers to these questions aren’t easy. The easy thing to do now is to try and preserve as much as we can from this time period and all other time periods. It is incumbent on us, the educated class, to care enough to preserve them.

Just as we should make every effort we can to preserve the residential structures of Florence, so should we do the same for the ecclesiastical structures, namely one of the most important in the entire city – Santa Croce (Church of the Holy Cross). Under the order of the Franciscan monks and in the area where St. Francis and his followers spread the gospel lays a veritable pantheon of the artistic and spiritual Florentine culture. The design of the church was entrusted to Arnolfo di Cambio (who was also in charge of the Duomo at one point) who began construction in May 3, 1294. Unfortunately, he died just a few years after that but most of the church had been completed at that point. It was finally consecrated in 1442, yet the façade would remain bare for another 400 years until Niccolo Matas put a face to the structure in the Neo-gothic style. What is interesting to note about the façade is the Star of David that adorns the top of the pediment – a symbol that could be said to represent the union of the Old and New Testaments. The parvis, or space in front of the church, is larger than normal for a church of this type due to the large congregation that it had to cater to. The interior of the church became a place where many of the giants of Florentine society had monuments erected in their honor. A few of the names found inside:

· Michelangelo Buonarroti

· Galileo Galilei

· Dante Aligheri

· Lorenzo Ghiberti

· Niccolo Machiavelli

· Ugo Foscolo, a famous Florentine poet

· Leon Battista Alberti

· Giorgio Vasari

· Guglielmo Marconi

Some of those remembered inside have tombs dedicated to them and are buried inside, while others have simply a cenotaph because the body is located elsewhere. Not only were these luminaries remembered here, but there is also artwork from such artists as Giotto, Vasari, and Donatello located inside. The basic form of the church can be described as a further evolution of the basic basilica form: the side aisles, arcades of columns, clerestory windows, and nave all remain from earlier churches, but are simply expanded upon, scaled up, and morphed to fit a certain mentality about the importance of this structure. The columns that divide the nave from the side aisles are now octagonal, and the arches that allow the forces from the roof to be successfully transferred to the ground are now Gothic. These varying regional influences still don’t change the fact that Christianity was seen as the dominant religion. The form remains the same but the expression has changed: an indication of a change in taste, a reliance on different building techniques, and a desire to just do something different that hadn’t been seen before.

Exiting the church on the opposite side of the entrance, the Pazzi Chapel sits quietly but intensely rational. Designed by Brunelleschi in 1443, this is one of those structures whose overall strategy is one of a part to whole relation, exterior and interior. Each of the elements on its façade, all of the dimensions and intercolumnations are specifically designed with a specific harmony in mind that will be pleasing to the eye. It exhibits all of the pureness and simplicity that the High Renaissance architects were trying to achieve as they reached back to Classical Rome for inspiration in their designs. The square and the circle are exquisitely proportioned to each other in an attempt to render the entire composition agreeable. The interior is simply a repetition of the devices Brunelleschi used on the exterior: square and circle working harmoniously together in their arrangements. I have a different kind of appreciation for these types of structures than I do for those of the Baroque period. While I am fond of the latter style with its complex geometries and daring structures, there is something to be said about a perfectly proportioned building that is simplistic in design but high-minded in theory.

6/7 Florence Intro

Today we were given an introduction to Florence as we were overlooking the city on somewhat of a rainy, cloudy day. None of us were especially disappointed at the weather, as we were simply amazed at the view. Florence was settled along the Arno River around a millennium before Christ. The Etruscans followed them, and Caesar eventually re-founded it as a castrum in 59BC. One can still see the cardo and decumanus of the ancient city today, with the modern Piazza della Repubblica serving as the site of the ancient Forum. This political organization didn’t last, however, because after the fall of Rome the bands that tied this expansive empire together dissolved, and Italy was thrown into an era where its mainland was broken up into independent city-states. Various rulers and lords came to dominate different parts of Italy, but it was during the 11^th century that a power shift took place: the Count Ugo, ruler over the Tuscany region, moved from Luca to Florence. This signaled to the region that this city would become an economic power in the centuries to follow. By the 13^th century, there were 3 classes of society:

1. Aristocracy – this group supported the Holy Roman Empire and were colloquially known as the Ghibellines

2. Clergy – this group, known as the Guelphs, supported the Pope and would eventually assume dominance of Florence, subsequently demolishing the houses of the aristocrats

3. Merchants – this was the economic base of the city; their wealth was dependent on the cloth and wool trade

By the 14^th century, one third of the population was involved in the cloth trade. Banking was also a powerful institution during this time: the Pitti, Strozzi, and Medici families were all major players in this industry. Over half of the population died during the Bubonic plague which swept across Europe during the Middle Ages.

This is but a cursory history of the early years of Florence. It is of the subjective beauty of the city which I will try to focus on throughout this journal. How the government is organized and what the people of Florence thought about their city is reflected in what kind of architecture was produced here during the Middle Ages and Renaissance. What I noticed right away upon arriving in Florence was the Medieval character the city possesses. The smell of leather permeates the open air markets, which adds to the older charm to the city. The urban fabric also features a unique color palette: lots of browns, yellows, and oranges that seem to perfectly fit with the city.

The first building on our trip through Florence that we visited was San Miniato al Monte, high above the city of Florence. The approach to this church is quite interesting, as you can’t see it until you have climbed a number of rusticated stairways. To deny a visitor to the church a view of it only adds to the suspense, as when you finally reach the point where you can see it, you have to climb another flight of stairs. Nonetheless, San Miniato, who is a local minor saint, has quite the legend surrounding him. Apparently, he carried his decapitated head up to this hill where he wanted to be buried, back to the place where he had spent most of his time as a hermit. Inspired by this story, the church was constructed here between 1013 – 1207AD with additions and repairs made for over 400 years (1440’s – 1850’s).

It is a great example of Medieval Florentine church construction: the façade has some of the same multi-colored expressions as the Duomo in the heart of the city. The different geometrical green and white patterns that break down the façade are typical of this area of Italy, as they express some of the aspirations of Medieval/Renaissance architecture: part to whole relations. The interior finds no relief from the intricate geometrical patterns: each of the roof trusses is highly ornate and colorful, again typical of the Tuscan region of Italy. The method of complex vaulting which had been used in ancient Roman times was lost, however, and is replaced here with a series of simple wooden trusses.

Legend has it that the next building we visited today was a Roman temple to Mars. The Baptistery of St. John was converted to be used by the Christians in the 8^th century AD. In the 12^th century, it was clad in marble by the wool merchant guild after they took power in Florence and features the distinctive geometrical pattern that it has today. Of course, St. John the Baptist is a powerful figure in the history of Christianity, and his importance is no less than it was in the Renaissance, as this octagonal building stands as a reminder of him. What is notable about the exterior of the building is its doors, specifically the East Portal. Studying these doors in school, you can see the amount of detail that went into making the doors, which were designed by Lorenzo Ghiberti and are referred to as the Gates of Paradise, but analyzing them up close you can really appreciate them for what they are: an exquisitely carved and ornate true work of art. The third panel down on the left is the one that is constantly referenced, however, because it is one of the best examples of the Renaissance artist’s attempts at perspective. The rest of the panels represent scenes from the Old Testament. The design of the North Portal was left up to a competition between the rivals Brunelleschi and Ghiberti, the latter eventually winning out. The further evolution of the use of perspective is evident here, as it features scenes from the Passion of the Christ, which are embedded within quatrefoil designs.

Inside the Baptistery, I could see a clear lineage from this design back to the Pantheon in Rome. Although it is a Renaissance design and heavily influenced with scenes from Christianity, you still see that from the Oculus in the center and more or less static, centralized design that it is imitating this precedent. The 13^th century mosaics that line the interior are of amazing quality and represent a time in our civilization where religion ruled with a seeming iron fist. You can tell this by how the Duomo and Baptistery are placed within the heart of Florence. Even though the Palazzo Vecchio to the southwest of the city is similar in height to the Duomo, it is clear who had the power in Florence. Most of the other buildings in the center of Florence are background buildings: they are more or less the same height and have varying styles, but serve as “fillers” to the urban fabric. The Baptistery, on the other hand, dominates the space in front of the Duomo. No other buildings touch it, and it is a focal point and sent a clear message as to what was the dominant institution of the time.

As for the Duomo, or as it is less commonly known Santa Maria del Fiore, there is no doubt as to what building dominates the skyline of Florence. When we were overlooking the city earlier in the day, I noticed that the Duomo had to be at least 5 times taller than any of the other buildings around it. It was constructed over a period of 150 years and is by far one of the most ambitious projects ever undertaken for a medieval city. As I have mentioned in some of my earlier entries, much of the knowledge of how to construct domes of this scale had been lost to antiquity. The Florentines had no idea how to build with concrete. They concerned themselves with building out of stone, brick, and wood, which were local materials. The project here in Florence had at least 5 building masters working on it throughout its lifetime: Brunelleschi, di Cambio, Giotto, and Francisco Talenti (who proposed the layout of the eastern end of the church).

Out of all the facts and figures laid out for us on this day about its 300’ tall dome, 157’ tall Gothic nave arches, its 14 marble ribs that hold the dome together, etc. is its double shell design, which was eventually completed by Brunelleschi after standing without a dome for over a century. The fact that the exterior dome is octagonal in shape and the inner one is able to portray a circular shape is a mixing of geometries and technical expertise I don’t think we’ve seen since Hadrian’s Villa.

Just the amount of force that bears down on the dome each day must be tremendous, and for it to be held in place by a series of tension chains made of rudimentary materials (by today’s standards) is simply mind-boggling. Similar to the Pantheon, lighter brick at the top and heavier brick at the bottom was employed to reduce the amount of weight bearing down on the entire structure. This indicates that they had some working knowledge of how the ancient structures were built, just not enough that they could have made it out of concrete instead of brick. What was also ingenious to see climbing up the dome was the type of patterns they used when laying the brick. A herringbone pattern was mainly used, and it is found to reduce the spread of cracking under the tremendous pressure of the forces. I am hopeful that they at least tested this theory before they started building the dome, or at least had a precedent with which to work from in order to assure that it would not collapse. Finally, the world of architecture didn’t just receive a great work of art out of this building period. We also received all of the machinery that Brunelleschi invented to aid him in construction: reversible hoists with variable gears that could move objects up or down without changing directions, large cranes to lift heavy materials, and a complex scaffolding system were all products of the building of the Duomo, which successive generations would use to their advantage to build even more daring structures.