9/26/24: East to Messina's Masters & 'Moving' Duomo!

A sign outside the Chiesa di Santo Francesco Saverio, located a block from our hotel in the port city of Milazzo, indicated it was built in 1660 and then demolished in 1970. Oddly, there was no information, however, when the current church was built.

Steven and I had lucked out when selecting our Milazzo hotel, as it was on a lovely pedestrian street lined with Baroque Italian buildings and close to restaurants, grocery stores, and, more importantly, parking!

Another church was a hop, skip, and jump from our hotel on the right. 

The shorter route to Messina on Sicily's Eastern coast:

As we drove across the island's northeastern tip en route to our first stop of the day, Messina, we were blessed with mesmerizing views of the Nebrodi Mountains. However, the air was uncomfortably smoky as we left Milazzo, just as it had been on approach a couple of days earlier. 

To quicken our journey to Messina, Steven preferred to take the Autostrada, a very cheap toll road by American standards, at just two euros for an hour-long drive! Each tunnel through the mountains had its own name, which was new to us.

I'm sure you've heard of 'crazy Italian drivers,' right? Well, our first experience was in the busy city of Messina, where lots of drivers opted to park in the medians. Guess it was a case of park wherever you can! I wondered how many motorcyclists are killed each year in Messina, as the ones we saw took insane chances with their lives and of those around them.

A bit of background on Messina: Though the city's ancient history included a series of disasters, it once competed with Palermo, 149 miles west, in an attempt to become Sicily's capital. The city had a fine university, a vibrant commercial center, and a lively cultural environment. Because the city straddles a fault line, it's been leveled many times, most recently in 1908 when Europe's largest-ever earthquake (and then a tsunami minutes later) destroyed Messina and overnight caused the shore to sink several feet. The once flourishing metropolis of 120,000 was reduced to a heap of rubble, and a staggering 80,000 people died in the ensuing tidal wave. 

Though there were no outward indications of the disaster, the area was somewhat flat, as tall buildings are not permitted due to seismic planning.

Steven and I wanted to spend a few hours in Messina for two reasons: One was that Caravaggio, one of Italy's most illustrious painters, had works on display at the Museo Regionale di Messina. Near the end of his life, Caravaggio spent a good chunk of time on the island while on the lam after killing someone in Rome.  

More photos en route to the museum's entrance:

As we had experienced on our late spring trip to Japan, the museum staff told us exactly which way to go rather than allowing us to make our own choice. It was more than a tad disconcerting and meant we couldn't just head directly to Caravaggio's paintings. However, it worked out as the museum had some treasures we wouldn't have wanted to miss. 

The 13th-century Norman-Swabian tiles, recently recovered from museum warehouses, were a small part of Messina's ancient Duomo. The tiles were credited to workers from different cultures: the geometrical makeup of the eight-pointed star was representative of the Arab-Fatimid culture, whereas the animal images and the soldier with the sword and Norman shield recalled the Franco-German area. 

The Italian-Greek 13th-century Mother Enthroned with Child was depicted wearing a blue mantle, a symbolic color for humanity in Greek culture, and handing a letter to a kneeling monk, possibly St. Benedict. The banners at the bottom are a link to the noble house of patrons. The painting could be dated to the 13th century from its style, historical records, and its Byzantine mastery.

Painter Antonello da Messina died in Messina in early 1479 at the age of 49. His first production was this two-faced tablet, which indicated direct knowledge of the work of Pietro della Francesca, a celebrated Italian painter during the Renaissance. 

We'd been introduced in previous Sicilian museums to captivating terracotta tiles by Andrea della Robbia, a 15th-century Florentine artist. We were, therefore, glad to see his Madonna della Frutta, which had come from a local church. 

Works by Antonello Gagnini, who lived in Messina at the beginning of the 16th century, adorned one large gallery. They included the exquisite Tabernaclo from 1504 and the statue of Sant'Antonio, dated to 1534.

Giovanni Angelo Montorsoli's Fontana del Nettuno, representing Neptune and Scylla, was originally placed in Messina's central port area. The towering statue of the sea god and two enchained monsters apparently alluded to the protection that the city enjoyed under the Habsburg domination. 

We finally reached the artworks left behind by Caravaggio, the scandal-prone artist best known for his religious works and using dramatic shadows and heavenly lighting. A common theme in these paintings was the recurrence of daily life in a privileged setting. Several artists in the first decades of the 17th century blended their previous style with Caravaggio's and those of the Late Mannerists. 

What a coup that Messina's regional museum was awarded such masterpieces.

Angel Figure was created by an unknown Messina sculptor in the 17th century.

The substantial, inlaid marble pieces with semi-precious stones and glass gems had been in the interior of Messina's Church of St. Gregory.

The unusual sculpture group of the Martyrdom of St. Agatha was made from gilded copper and red coral in the 17th century and attributed to skilled craftsmen from Trapani.

Delivery of Sacred Letters was painted in oil on canvas by an unknown artist in the 17th century.

The eagle-eyed guards had plenty of time to follow us from room to room as there were no other visitors. Steven was warned more than once not to get too close to the sculptures and paintings because of his walking sticks!

As I've always been drawn to intricate woodwork pieces, this Ciborium, or Tabernacle, charmed me. Completed at the end of the 17th century and the first quarter of the 18th century, it was an extraordinary example of the humility and devotion of Franciscan friars to enrich their churches and convents throughout the Italian peninsula. Carved and inlaid walnut, other woods, and mother-of-pearl were used to fabricate the magnificent piece.

The sumptuous carriage was built in 1742 by Domenico Biondo to coincide with the re-introduction of the most important citizen privileges that had been abolished by the Spaniards in retaliation after the riots in Messina from 1674-78. The carriage was driven by three pairs of horses to welcome Senators and for other important events. 

Another sublime Ciborium was fashioned with the same materials by an unknown Franciscan engraver in the 2nd half of the 17th century.

I was also drawn to this 12th-century Anthropomorphic Capitals fashioned by Norman workers.

Though our only reason for visiting the museum was the Caravvagio paintings, I found so much more there that I preferred. The museum's gaudy, reddish-orange exterior did not do justice, in my humble opinion, to the wealth of art inside.

En route to the second reason we chose to visit Messina:

The reconstructed Norman and Romanesque Duomo, originally built by the Norman King Roger II, was our second reason to visit Messina. 

The enormous apse:

The splendid wood-beamed ceiling:

The Cathedral was certainly striking, but its 90-meter-tall Bell Tower, constructed in 1933, was the defining reason why we were here as it contained one of the largest and most complex mechanical clocks in the world.

While waiting for the gilded automatons to perform their daily show at noon, everyone in the massive square was entertained by strolling musicians and hawkers selling things few people wanted.

The monumental astronomical clock comprised a central mechanism that governed the sound effects and movements of the automatons. On one side of the clock, there was a quadrant depicting the solar system and then the perpetual calendar.

Finally, the much-hyped show began at the stroke of noon with a roaring lion who rotated the flag as his tail swished back and forth, and he bowed his head!

Next up, in a lower opening, was a rooster crowing and flapping his wings while a golden angel and others moved in and out below.

Then, lower down still, a castle finally appeared after much anticipation!

Thank goodness, the regional museum had held our interest so long that we didn't have to miss the bell tower experience altogether. Steven thought it was a bit cheesy and was frustrated that some of the elements weren't working. I guess I'm just a kid at heart as I was entranced with the entire 'show,' and it didn’t matter to me that it wasn’t perfect.

The wedding couple capped our fun time in Messina.

Next post: On to the hill-topped town of Savoca, made famous by Francis Ford Coppola's Godfather movie.

Posted on December 5th, 2024, from home in the Denver Foothills a couple of days before heading to the Caribbean for a couple of weeks, spending Christmas in Miami, and then onto San Francisco to be with our son and his family until the end of the year. As always, take care of yourself and your loved ones as best you can.