travelingidahogirl

St. Anthony’s Basilica

Hubby had a day off last month during the week and while T was in asilo, we made the short trip to Padua to check out St. Anthony’s Basilica. We had walked through the attached cloisters on our initial Padua visit back in November (which started with a trip to Ikea—they’re just as crazy here as they are in the states). We didn’t go into the actual basilica then because, well, because I hadn’t read the entry yet in Rick Steves. Is that not pathetic? Ok, it is, I know. But I like to know what I can before I go somewhere. Or usually. I mean, I often will just take random side trips to little towns around here (I’m usually wanting T to take a nap in the car since he won’t do it at home) and I’ll have no pre-set route. I don’t mind getting a little lost because I eventually find my way back home. But in this particular instance, I knew there would be information in my travel books, and I wanted to know it before I entered. Plus, I wanted to know if it’d cost us anything.

It didn’t. (One great thing about visiting churches is the low-cost to free entry fees.)

My trip to St. Anthony’s was only a couple weeks after my visit to St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice, so it was interesting to compare the too. As far as size, St. Anthony’s is also huge. It may be larger—it had lots of little chapels. It is certainly much simpler in its décor. The exterior is red brick with six bubble domes, a central cone dome, and then some spires on top. A marble white Anthony stands over the main door and a circular stained glass window over that. Between those two items, along the front of the building is a covered porch/loggia. The three sets of bronze doors have small relief statues. All in all, a simple, but beautiful design.







The piazza or courtyard in front was fairly busy when we were there on a Saturday in November (with people and pigeons), but it was empty on the January Monday. Along the side streets and around the courtyard, several vendors are selling St. Anthony trinkets. I guess this is a popular pilgrim site—St. Anthony being the patron saint of a variety of things, including travelers, and pregnant and barren women, and is also known as the “finder of things.” This felt less like a tourist stop and more like a place of worship and thanksgiving.



In the courtyard is a Donatello statue of a Venetian general, Gattamelta (who is buried in the basilica—or rather his elaborate marble coffin has its own chapel in there). It is apparently the first large bronze horse statue made in the Renaissance. Too bad it’s on such a high pedestal because I couldn’t really see the detail very well. Also on the courtyard are two small churches—Oratory of St. George (on the left) and the Scuola del Santo.The latter was forgettable (although now I read it has the “earliest documented paintings by Titian,” something Rick Steves neglected to mention! Ah well, I obviously wasn’t impressed.), but the first one was like a mini-Scrovegni, entirely covered in frescoes. It cost €2.50 to see scenes from the lives of St. George, St. Catherine, and St. Lucy. (How do Catholics keep track of all these people? Now I understand why they have catechism. —Ok, clearly I don’t, as I just Googled the term, which I thought was like Catholic Sunday school, but it seems much more complicated than that.) Anyway, it was nice because we were actually allowed to take pictures, no flash, inside the Oratory.

But, alas, no pictures were allowed inside the basilica. Bummer. Another large bummer was that the large Chapel of the Saint inside the basilica was blocked, I guess for some restoration of some sort. Ordinarily, the tomb of Anthony resides in this chapel (it was moved to the other side so that people could still go pray next to it, give offerings, and add pictures of survived car crashes, answered prayers—lots of baby pictures—thanks from the “barren” women?—to Anthony’s shrine) which is surrounded with nine marble reliefs of the Anthony’s miracles. I love reliefs—have I mentioned that yet?—and so I was disappointed as these look like good ones. Maybe next year (ha! I love that I can say that knowing I’ll actually be able to come back!).

Ok, so, St. Anthony’s Basilica. Well, unlike St. Mark’s, you are not immediately overwhelmed when you step inside. No gold mosaic ceilings. In fact, the first half of the building’s ceilings aren’t even painted, which I found very odd—like the place isn’t even finished. I mean they started building it in 1232! And it’s not done? I don’t know. I mean some of the small chapels in the back were frescoed in the early 1900s. But I really do think that if some outstanding fresco-painting artist is out there, they should check into it. The place will probably be around for another 780 years, no?

But the part of the ceiling that IS done (really, more is done than not) was quite beautiful and colorful. Blues, reds, and yellows. I don’t know how to describe it, but there were thin marble colums all over, again, very colorful. Here, you have to see a picture--or two (taken from one of my books...). Architectural Digest, I am not.

The High Altar looks quite ornate, and includes bronze Donatello statues, reliefs, and Crucifix. Sadly, you can’t get close to them at all. There was a service being held here when we first came in, but even after it was over, the whole Presbytery is walled off on three sides, and the High Altar is set back a ways from the front.

Ok, but the real prize of the place has nothing to do with art. Well, not entirely true, but the ick-factor part doesn’t. Chapel of the Reliquaries. Oh yeah, they have relics. Anthony’s tattered tunic, wood coffin, and rock pillow all have their own display case. And then, you walk up a few steps to see the real treasures: his lower jaw, his tongue, and his vocal cords. Yes, his tongue. And you can totally tell it’s a tongue, only it does look a little black and spotted. Apparently its existence is a miracle because when he was exhumed 32 years after his death, the tongue was still there even though the rest of him was dust. I guess it was still red when they found it, but not any more. The vocal chords were discovered intact in 1981! Not having any idea what vocal chords are supposed to look like, I can’t really judge them. But, yeah, a tongue.

The four cloisters, which we walked around when it was warmer, are pretty. Each is essentially a square loggia (covered sidewalk, remember?) around grass and flowers, maybe some sculpture, and in a couple of cases, a large magnolia tree. They made for some pretty pictures.

There were also several graves—coffins along the walls—including Gabriele Falloppio and Bartolomeo Eustachi. What? Never heard of them? How about your Fallopian tubes (females anyways) and Eustachian tubes? Dudes discovered them. My guess is their presence is somehow related to the University of Padova (old haunt of Gallileo) and its famed Anatomy Theater.

Still haven’t been there. Give me time.

posted by travelingidahogirl @ 5:11 PM