Unlocking Rome With Pope Sheet & Nolli Map
In the summer of 2006, I was fortunate enough to spend a summer in Rome as part of a study abroad program at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Those two and a half months in the Eternal City were when I first got bitten by the travel bug. I can still vividly remember the ride from Fiumicino Airport to central Rome and was awestruck by the beauty and magical atmosphere of the city. Even though I had just immigrated to America from Taiwan five years earlier, that summer in Rome felt very different. For the first time, I felt this real sense of independence and adventure. Everywhere we looked, there were layers upon layers of history. At times, it could feel quite overwhelming.
Luckily, the program I participated in focused on the history of architecture and urbanism of Rome. The program was led by Professor Kevin Hinders, whose knowledge about Rome was truly encyclopedic. One objective of the program was to develop a skill to dissect the seemingly chaotic urban fabric and to analyze the architectural ensemble around us. Fortunately, most classes were conducted outdoors, and we got to visit numerous palaces and villas that are typically inaccessible to regular tourists.
Of course, one could hardly appreciate the history of Rome without some understanding of the Roman Catholic Church. As a non-Christian, I found the concept of the papacy to be endlessly fascinating. A system of elected absolute monarchy is quite unique in human history. And just like any absolute monarchy, there was no shortage of political intrigues and scandals. Ironically, the excess and comedic absurdity of the Renaissance-era papacy gave us most of the splendid monuments we enjoy today.
Here Comes The Pope Sheet
The best way to decode Rome was to identify the layering of architecture and landscape properly. Among the first tools given to us was a Pope Sheet. What is the pope sheet you asked for? It was simply a piece of paper that lists each pontiff's papal coat of arms since the late 14th century. As basic as it sounds, the Pope Sheet allows us to date the building to the reign of a pope properly. Not only did it help us to date the buildings from the street, it also very often denoted the patronage relationship between the popes and the artists.
The use of the papal coat of arms (or technically papal armorial) is a tradition developed in the Late Middle Ages. It was composed of three individual elements: the papal tiara, the keys of heavens, and a shied that bears the personalized family crest from the individual pontiff. The keys of the heavens are the symbol of Saint Peter, who was entrusted by Christ to establish his church. The keys thus symbolize the supremacy of Rome above the other four historical ecclesiastical patriarchates of early Christianity (Antioch, Alexandria, Constantinople, and Jerusalem).
The papal tiara, another symbol emblematic of papal authority, has had a much more nuanced history. The three-tier crown represents the pope’s elevated in the heavenly realm (top tier), ecclesiastical realm (middle tier), and the earthly realm (bottom tier). Appropriately, the crown was used for the papal coronation ceremony, with many tiaras made for individual popes. But unlike the keys of the heavens, the papal tiara’s place has been in precipitous decline since the 1960s.
Famously, Pope Paul VI removed his papal tiara in a ceremony and declared that the papacy should renounce the temporary wold, but instead focus on the spiritual matter. His tiara, already austere and unadorned, was then sold to a group of American Catholics in a charity fundraising sale. Today, this last official papal crown is on permanent display in the crypt of Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington D.C.
Following Pope Paul VI’s renunciation, all subsequent pontiffs declined to use papal tiara. An inauguration ceremonial now replaces the coronation ceremony. Ironically, it was Pope Benedict XVI, a conservative, that decided to make a complete break with the symbolism of the papal tiara. For the first time, a papal tiara was omitted from the papal coat of arms. Instead, it was replaced with a silver mitre with three gold stripes and a pallium. According to Professor Hinders, this simple change, along with the cancellation of the traditional papal procession around Rome and his German heritage, antagonized both the traditionalists in the church and the people of Rome.
Walking around Rome, almost every other palace or church seems to bear the papal coat of arms. They adorn the entryway of grand palaces and are frequently incorporated as part of a Baroque fountain or side of some stair balustrades. For me, it was an ultimate treasure hunt turned into a game. Along with my cohort, we will roam around the city and figure out who could identify the pope's name and the approximate construction date. Even without recognizing the crest, the simple act of spotting the papal crest was quite a pleasure all in itself.
One of my favorites is the tiny coat of arms I discovered embossed on the copper flashing on one of the minor cupolas at Saint Peter’s Basilica. It was perhaps the smallest coat of arms I spotted that summer and one of the most beautiful. At first, it seemed like a silly task to memorize the names of the popes and their personal crests. But these personal crests often have a direct visual connection to the symbol. For example, the Barberini (Pope VIII) has three bees, the Della Rovere (Pope Julius II & Pope Sixtus IV) has an oak tree, and the Colonna (Pope Martin V) has a column. Before you knew it, I could recognize about half of the papal crest after a week.
Of course, not all pontiffs were created equal. Several popes, such as Pope Urban VIII (Barberini), Pope Paul III (Farnese), and Pope Julius II (Della Rovere), were prolific builders and major patrons of the arts. These popes and their families often had a personal and direct relationship with many of the leading artists of the Renaissance and Baroque periods. Many of these close collaborations have become a legend among the architectural historians of this period. Ultimately, great art and architecture require artistic guineas and the necessary patronage.
Introducing The Nolli Map
Besides the Pope Sheet, another valuable tool we had was the Nolli Map. This map was amazing! Of all the maps ever produced in history, this 1749 map of Rome by Giambattista Nolli was, without a doubt, the most significant in developing architecture and urbanism. Comprising twelve individual copper plates, Pope Benedict XIV commissioned the map to administer the city better. The end product was a stunningly detailed map of Rome that has remained relevant more than two centuries later. Amazingly, Rome continued to use the Nolli Map in its city planning as recently as the 1970s.
Like all architects and designers, I have always been obsessed with the power of maps. Great maps collect the necessary spatial information and filter all the visual noises. Nolli’s innovations go beyond the stylistic representation. Instead, it completely transforms the relationship between map users and their city. Post-modernist architect Robert Venturi provided a good summation of Nolli’s contributions to modern map-making:
More than any other city I could think of, Rome hides its treasures at night behind the imposing doors of private palaces and churches. But during the day, these doors were open to the public. This was particularly true in the 18th century when many grand family palazzos functioned as places of business. Nolli Map enables all travelers to see beyond the confinement of the architectural facade.
For architects, Nolli Map documented the zenith of the Roman papacy in urbanism and architecture. I could argue that it represents Baroque Rome to its fullest. The map also predates many architectural disgraces that scarred modern Rome (namely the Victor Emmanuel II National Monument and Roman Termini railway station). Classists like myself do envision Nolli’s Rome as an architectural ideal. While changes are inevitable, Nolli gave us a precious snapshot that allowed us to learn from the past and confer the future.
For anyone interested in learning the legacy of Giambattista Nolli and critical analysis of the shortcomings of modernist urbanism, the 1983 book Collage City by Colin Rowe is a fantastic read, if not overly academic. And for casual travelers, a handy mobile app has been developed to be your perfect companion for the next trip to Rome.