Filmmaker
David Battistella moved to Florence from Canada in 2011 to pursue his dream:
writing and producing a feature film based on Ross King’s 2000 book
Brunelleschi’s Dome, about the life of Filippo Brunelleschi and the building of
Florence’s Cupola. This column, which began with TF 149, chronicles
Battistella’s pursuit of his dream, including anecdotes of his new life in
Florence and his efforts to finance and launch his ambitious project.
There is a
world between walls. That is what I discovered on a secret tour in a Florence’s
famous Santa Maria del Fiore cathedral one day. I met with a trusted friend and
private tour guide, and with special permission of the Opera del Duomo, under
the Paolo Uccello clock inside the cathedra’s cavernous nave.
Looking
straight up from the pavement he pointed out a small round hole in the apex of
the ceiling vault.
‘We’re going
up there?,’ he said.
Wordless I
followed as he led me to a small door leading to a staircase which runs between
the interior wall and the church facade. I knew that we were heading into a
place inside the Cathedral where only few have been. I also knew that there would
be stunning views of the pavement some sixty meters below when we got up
there.
Winding
upward, peering through small windows from behind the Saintly statues, I was
able to catch a rare glimpse of the detail in the sculptures placed high above
the piazza with the Baptistry as the backdrop.
Our
destination, the cavernous space which rests between the nave ceiling and the
roof of the church. ‘Il Tetto,’ or ‘church attic’ is a dark, dusty, yet
mystical place lit by streaming rays of sunlight. As my eyes adjusted and my
fingers opened the camera aperture for long eight seconds exposures, I marveled
at the craftsmanship inside a part of the church never meant for public view.
Even here, in the attic, a place no one would ever see, one can appreciate the pride
that workers took in creating this building.
I could see
why, by the time they were building the Cupola, years after this part had been
completed, Filippo Brunelleschi was born into a tradition of excellence. That
is a Florentine tradition. The true craftsmen here, even now, work and
rework. Florentines have a form of
auto-correction and auto-critique that I have rarely experienced anywhere. It
helps one understand the depth to which this Florentine creative river runs.
Walking the
nave feels like being on the shoulders of the Cathedral. Staring down through
the watermelon sized holes to the intricate pavement inlay sixty meters below
is more than a small thrill. I was nothing short of mesmerized. The space is
vast.
Walking the
one hundred and thirty meters over the four naves toward the Cupola led to
another door, the open air and a sidewalk wide ledge. Here, an up close view of the large oculus
which lay in the Cupola’s base and the rush of being in the small space between
the Church and the Cupola structure.
I share these
rare images and experience. A glimpse inside a Cathedral which still houses
many mysteries. This really is hard to write because the visuals are so
breathtaking. Check out the photos below.
