Tuscany IV- Siena, Palio!!
Trip Start
Jun 03, 2008
1
13
23
Trip End
Oct 14, 2008
Siena,
Tuscany,
Italy
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Sounds pretty routine, right? Cannot be further from truth. First off, Siena has just the most beatiful piazza in entire Italy. Shaped as a shell, it scoops at the narrow part like a shell does. The gentle, red brick-covered slope thus created is great for sitting or lying down. So instead of being occpied by openair tables from the cafes like elsewhere, in Siena the tables line around the piazza, while the piazza itself is enjoyed by family, lovers, tourists, students, who stroll and hug and sit and drink. The facade of the old Republic goverment building is at the lowest part of the shell, forming a great backdrop day and night for those loitering around. On Palio day, a horse running track is constructed around the shell, while upto 20,000 people pack in to cheer on, everyone getting a decent view in this natural amphitheater.
Then there is the intense rivalry between the contradas. Complete with flags, chants, and loyal fans with lots of emotion, it is rather like a condensed version of the Eurocup, and covered by Italian TV with equal intensity. On top of pride, there is an archienemy to fight for every contrada. Fistfights, schemes for poisoning others' horses, anything goes. Trial runs are held twice a day since 3 days before the palio itself. Everyone shows up if they can manage. Scarves are worn that carry the contrada token. War songs are exchanged between rivaling contradas who compete in loudness. And after the run contrada members group behind their horse and jockey, march through town singing. So an exciting mayhem already before the real race happens. One rather parculiar rule I figured out watching the trial run is that the horse, not the jockey, wins the race. So frequently the jockey gets thrown off during a sharp turn, but the horse charges on for several more laps (I know, crazy animals), with a really possibility of bringing victory.
The night before Palio, exclusive dinners are held on the streets next to the community house of each contrada. Street barriers are set up, only members get in. By extraordinary luck an Italian family took me on for a drink in one community house, for a glimpse of the contrada collections and the dinner. The lines of tables extend to what must be more than a hundred meter long, topped with interminable lines of wine bottles and mineral waters. Men sit on one side,women the other, and a special area was set up for the kids, some kindergarten age and waiting for dinner way past their bedtime. the contrada scarf, a pink one bearing white lamb, glitterns under light on everybody´s shoulder,and singing bursts out spontaneously amdist lively talking.
On race day, the town boils over. By noon time, each contrada sends out a marching procession to go around town dressed in full medieval constume, complete with colorful stockings and a necklong wig. Among their cohort are two drummers to annouce arrival and provide drama, two flag wavers who periodically stop to perform their trick, throwing 1 person-tall flags high into the air then catching them, and a knight holding his sword high while watching the flags being thrown. Fortunately every flag waver from the 17 neighborhoods caught their flags as far as I can tell, so I did not have to know the next move of the knight should his flag waver miss. People line the narrow streets, when two marching contrada met head on, everyone have to squeeze to get by, you can see the sweat forming on forheads under the wigs.
By 5pm race day, the marching procession enters the horsetrack around piazza, and the 20,000 specators fill in. It's an hour long bizzare spectacle that offers a one stop shop for the most ardent medieval fans. In addition to the marchers from the 17 contrada, there are additional armored knights riding draped horses and wearing the weirdest helmets, more colorful banners and banner holders, bearers of hammars, arcs, spears. The procession moves very slow because the contrada flags had to be waved, jumped over, thrown and caught in various patterns every few steps to cheering views. For a whole hour, intense drum beats mix with the solemn sound of the bell on the piazza tower, and now and then the marching band of town, creating some indelible memory. Finally, a cart drawn by white oxes comes out, carrying its own bell, 6 trumpets, and the silk banner, or palio, painted with an enchantingly beatiful version of the Virgin. Every meter it moves it is greeted by waves of waving contrada scarves from the audience.
After all this fanfare, you'd be surprised how quick the race itself goes. In a minute, the run is over, the porcupine win. Ecstatic fans jump into the horserack, more porcupine flags spring up everywhere, while for the other 90% of audience it is time to go home. You could see grown men and women wept their tears quietly. For the rest of the night the porcupine takes over the entire town. Bands of flag wavers and drummers wander through the streets till after midnight. The celebration goes on for the next day.
There are other cool stuff in Siena, some rather grotesque depending on your taste. St. Catheline, one of the two Italian national saints, was born in Siena. Her hometown now has the honor to keep her head, on display in a marble box in the St. Domino church. The same church holds a Sodoma painting with some unneccessarily graphic depiction of a beheading scene. A painter known for sensual touches that sometimes bordering on erotism, he also painted a remarkable robust and strong Jesus. More famous arts can be found in the old goverment building and hospital, unusual frescos that depict urban rather than religious topics. In a hospital scene there were a lot of actions crammed, including a pair of dog and cat facing off each other- must have been delightful for the painters to break away from the usual Virgin and Jesus. The Sienese bank celebrate Palio by opening up its headquarter office for viewing to the public. A converted palace with touches of modern glass and wood structures, it is a delight to visit. Rather strange too, that you should be allowed to enter a bank, wander around, and take pictures at wish. For me on a laundry day it is more strange still to be wearing my sport shorts and mixing with smartly dressed Italian bankers. Oh well, it was worth it, if only to see the 18 century paintings of the palio that the bank hoards, showing girls in long dresses perched on rooftops for a view of the game, or torches covering the entire facade over the piazza at night.
And the gelato- having visited so much of Italy, I have decided that Nanini cafe, Siena must be close to the very best in Italy. Grom in Florence is famous and I love it, but the fromage pear gelato I got from Nanini is such an exquisite piece of culinary art. Do try it out if you drop by Siena.
