Zita (born in 1218) was known for her generosity towards the poor and afflicted, her humble condition notwithstanding.  Whenever possible, she would give food and clothing to the less fortunate.  She did not steal from her employer, but would gather leftover bread and scraps from family meals.  She would put them in her apron and distribute them outside the house.  One day her employer stopped her and asked what she was hiding in her apron.  She responded that all she had were flowers, and sure enough, when she opened her apron, it was full of jonquils.

Every year, to the delight of all, on the days around April 27^th ( the anniversary of her death) a huge, colourful, open-air flower market is held in the amphitheatre and a handsome flower bed is set up in Piazza S. Frediano.  Zita’s mummified body can be revered in the church of S. Frediano.  When she was alive, she would worship at the church everyday.  If you enter the extraordinary Romanesque church of S. Frediano, you can pay homage to her as devotees have done since her death in 1278.

In point of fact, her surprisingly well-preserved remains (over 700 years old) have been scientifically studied by anthropologists of the University of Pisa.  These studies have given some insight into the lifestyle, typology, and history of the people of Lucca living at that time.  The scientific report released by the University on St. Zita (virgin and pure) makes very interesting reading.

It is also of great interest to discover other places in Italy where the saint is worshipped and where beautiful and exceptional churches have been erected in her honour.  One such church is the Baroque church of Saint Cita (or Zita) in Palermo.  It is an exaltation of the southern Italian Baroque style.  Here admirers of stuccos and sculpture will find the works and mastery of the great Sicilian sculptor, Serpotta.

In regards to the amphitheatre, it is amusing to see the bewilderment on a visitor’s face as he proceeds to walk  along the dark, narrow, winding street, where there are at first glance, only trattorias and mouth-watering delicatessens.  It is also puzzling to see that the palazzo that appeared to be linear on Via Fillungo, now winds also.  Lo and behold, a bit further along, if you step back from the structure you can see the double row of white marble arches and bricks that have been covered somewhat by plaster and the roundness of the structure. Yes, this is the amphitheatre and its remains have been absorbed by the existing buildings.

You can feel the visitor’s disappointment.  He was expecting the Colosseum, Russell Crowe (The Gladiator), and pleading Christians fed to roaring lions!  Well, a few years have gone by and as everywhere, towns change with time.  Today, newspapers would probably decry this as an architectural monstrosity that ruins the surrounding environment, but such a large building could not have been left unused for so many years.  Let’s face it, by the end of the IV century ad, Russell Crowe and fellow gladiators had retired, all the lions had been killed, and the majority of Romans had become Christians.

This ancient amphitheatre has proudly withstood its 2000 years and has had a number of uses:  amphitheatre, military fortress during Lombard reign, prison, barns, housing, vegetable gardens, shops, storerooms, open market, etc.  Well, dear visitor, now walk through the large arch and behold one of the most beautiful nineteenth century piazzas of Italy:  Piazza dell’Anfiteatro of Lucca.  Its unique ellipse shape is harmonious; its an ingenious compromise between functionality and history, planned in 1830 by the semi-obscure Royal Architect, Lorenzo Nottolini.

I often enter the arena with tourists, but I also like to enter it by myself when it is empty.  I like to think of it as mine.  I shut my eyes for a few seconds and let my imagination wander.  I hear voices in the distance:  humble women calling out to passers-by on a Sunday inviting them to play a sort of bingo on the empty wooden carts of merchants, the hooves of a horse entering the piazza, a cry of a man in chains, and even the mighty roar of a lion!  Startled, I open my eyes and look round, but I am alone.  Where did the sound of the lion come from?

A youthful man around fifty years of age, with a smile, calls out to me from a window.  “Excuse me, sir!”

“Who, me?”  I ask, shaking out of my reverie.

“Yes.  I often hear and see you with tourists.  You’re a tour guide, right?”

I nod yes.

“Are you perhaps looking for a lion?”

I stare and smile unbelievingly.

“I have a lion right here in my house.  Come up and see for yourself!”

I turn the corner and climb a long, narrow ramp of stairs moulded into the framework of the old amphitheatre.  The apartment is small, tidy, and multi-coloured.  All at once, I notice a  beast with a full mane.  It really does exist, but it doesn’t frighten me.  It’s a lion, sculpted in sandstone, in Romanesque style, tightly fitted into the wall of the apartment.  Its jaws are wide open in defence of the property.  How it found its way there, I have no idea, but I know that it is the last of the mighty lions of the Roman amphitheatre in Lucca.

After undergoing various political/military vicissitudes, which in the 1400s severely tried the dwindling forces of the once glorious naval republic of Pisa, the Pisa cathedral was in need of a substantial refurbishing especially of it numerous antique altars plastered about haphazardly.  In 1485, The task was assigned to the Lucchese architect and sculptor, Matteo Civitali.  He was commissioned to produce twenty-two altars, but managed to complete one only and produce a few marble pieces (these can now be found reassembled in the cathedral museum).  The reason the task assigned was not completed was probably due to the growing bitterness between Firenze (Florence) and Lucca, and the ultimate military fall of Pisa.  Also Lucca was geographically surrounded.

Nonetheless, despite these tragic events, the taste for the classic, almost archaeological bequeathed by Civitali to a formation of sculptors working in Lucca, Pietrasanta, and Carrara had left its sign.  In the 1520s it is with such an approach (antique but already with a Mannerist trace) that the Florentine Pandolfo Fancelli and Stagio Stagi of Pietrasanta produced the precursor to many such altars in the cathedral of Pisa:  the altar of San Biagio, patron saint of the throat (I would therefore appoint him honorary patron of tourist guides). 

In comparison to other altars of the same period, it is of relatively small dimension.  It has an elaborate, but harmonious Renaissance geometric shape with grotesque decorations and elegant figures of impressive quality.  The detailed and skilled intertwining of foliage with symbolic figures alluding to the passion of Christ and zoomorphic figures renders the white marble vibrant and allows the observer to lose himself within. But what is most striking are the outstretched arms of the two angels placed above the niche where San Biagio is found.  They are of a neoclassical virtuosity, worthy precursors to a Canova sculpture.  The arms are catalyst to this part of the monument.  Their disproportionate extension towards the centre, in an almost flat bas relief, makes them appear to emerge delicately out of the milk-white marble.

Now moving over to Lucca, Matteo Civitali’s altar dedicated to San Regolo is of a commanding monumentality in comparison to the other altars present in the church.  It was produced in the 1480s and according to critics, it launched the Lucchese artist to fame – a sculptor capable of elaborate and detailed monuments. With this altar, we have a vertical fusion of the learned knowledge of the classic architect with the skill of an unparalleled portraitist and narrator of stories.

The upper portion of the altar is similar to a sepulchral monument with the effigy of the Saint flanked by classic putti torch-holders.  The lower portion of the altar has an altar step (predella) depicting the stories of the Saint summed up in a few panels.  Its freshness of narrative and Renaissant modernity are quite incredible.  Also noteworthy are the interior of the epochal palazzo in the banquet scene where the head of the Baptist is being served (you can almost hear the minstrel’s music), the dwarf (true protagonist with the dog at his feet – a precursor to the Florentine Morgante) who witnesses the martyrdom of Saint Sebastian and the executioner in the background,  who, with his feathered hat and crossbow, recalls a young William Tell. 

Two works of art, extremely diverse in composition and placed in diverse surroundings, nonetheless absolute protagonists of an era and of adjoining geographical areas.

Gabriele Calabrese

May 2009

According to tradition, in ancient times, Lucca was supplied with water via aqueduct, possibly an underground one, starting in proximity of Moriano.  The aqueduct was the source of numerous fountains, of which, some locations are known to us even today ( it should be mentioned that the layout of the ancient roman aqueduct was probably still in existence at this time and according to Silva reached approximately, as far as to where the church of San Frediano stands today). 

Before the end of the Middle Ages, this aqueduct was damaged and it was necessary to resort to wells.  In most cases, the wells were excavated under the kitchens of the buildings so that water could be easily drawn via pulley through the windows.  In many courtyards you can still see, built at window-level with hooks mounted overhead for pulleys, stone basins where buckets could be placed or, if necessary, used to fill a small reservoir found above the kitchen sink. (This excerpt is from:  The secolo di Castruccio, fonti e documenti di storia lucchese – The Age of Castruccio, sources and documents of the history of Lucca – mpf 1982).

The means of supplying water changed, when in the first half of the 1800s, first under the principality of Elisa Bonaparte (Napoleon’s sister) and then definitively under the Bourbon duchy of Maria Luisa, a new aqueduct was constructed.  It is named after its designer, the architect Lorenzo Nottolini.  It is still possible to admire the arcade of red bricks that stretches from the source in Guamo near the Monti Pisani (hills of Pisa) carrying fresh uncontaminated spring-water to many fountains in town.

Fateci sapere cosa ne pensate.