Rome: The City of Art

Rome: The Eternal City. One of the oldest cities in the entire world. A bustling tourist hub, littered with skeletons of an ancient civilization. Rome has existed for centuries, and so much of it still stands today. I had the utmost privilege of calling the capital of Italy my home for four months. From January all the way to May, I explored all the city had to offer, from tiny coffee shops nestled in the nooks and crannies of the alleys to the countless restaurants, calling out to come in and enjoy a bite. I was able to see Rome in its full glory, creating a routine out of the once-foreign land. After a while, I became acclimated to the Italian quips passing in and out of my ears and my casual walks past the Tiber River. What I never got used to, however, was the art.

I would not call myself an artist at all. I could refer to myself as an enjoyer of the arts, but I am more inclined to pick up a book than look at a painting. I will always look and appreciate, but I never truly seek out a piece of art. My mind has never been inclined to change—until I lived in Rome. Rome is art to its very core. From the Colosseum to the frescoes painted on the ceilings of countless churches, art is everywhere on the city walls. You cannot walk a block down a street without encountering something beautiful. I would pass the same fountain, the same church, the same sculpture time and time again, and still be in awe. It was almost like seeing history come to life before my very eyes. As I craned my neck to peer at the Sistine Chapel, I could practically see angel wings flap high above on the ceiling. I was in awe at the casual placement of some great works of art—a random church in the middle of Rome could hold one of the greatest Caravaggio paintings. Stumbling upon the works of art I had the privilege of encountering was not coincidental. It almost felt like they found me instead of the other way around. 

If asked to pick a favorite art piece in Rome, I would certainly struggle to answer. How could I pick just one work to mention when all I viewed was so magnificent and unique? I could base it on my emotional reaction, perhaps. When I viewed Michaelangelo’s Pieta, snug in the immediate right corner of St. Peter’s Basilica, I truly had no words. I recall it being the first piece of art that stopped me in my tracks. The basilica was practically empty as the night was coming to a close, so it was just me, Mary, and Jesus, illuminated by the ambient church lighting. In the quiet, calm atmosphere, I had a clear vision of their faces through the glass. I was so drawn to the carving of Mary. I knew what the statue was and its significance—it detailed Mary grasping onto Jesus' dead body. However, I soon realized that seeing pictures of an artwork and seeing it in real life are two very different experiences. Up close, the reverence in Mary’s expression is heartbreaking. She looked so real to me that I felt myself wanting to glance away, to give her privacy to grieve. I am a religious person; I have attended Catholic school practically my whole life and believe in God and all His creations. However, I had never felt as connected to the Holy Mother as I did in that very moment. It was almost as if I was viewing her sorrow in real time, the way her face conveyed such true sadness. I was in a trance; I probably could have stared at the sculpture for hours. I recall how lifelike the two figures looked behind the glass. Michelangelo is one of the most famous artists in history, but my naivety never searched just exactly why he was. The realism in Mary’s face had me convinced she could get up at any moment and walk towards me. Standing there in the basilica, shielded from the cold mid-January air brewing outside in Vatican City, I felt a new appreciation for the arts.

My time in Rome can only be described as sacred. Everything I did, every new experience I had, felt so special to me. Even the most mundane tasks felt as if I were immersed in a film. After some contemplation, I realized that this time was so beautiful because of the beauty that surrounded me. It was in the architecture, remnants of the most glorious time for Rome. It was in the statues—carvings of Roman gods and goddesses, flanked by flowing streams of water into fountains below. Each piece of art I encountered has stayed with me in my memory; for the years to come, I know I will be reminded of each one. The notion of an obsession with art had always been foreign to me, but now, after encountering with Roman works, I can understand the true beauty behind them. 

February 2025