Miscellaneous Churches
6
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
here |
1.
Our Lady of Mercy. (A.k.a. the Church of Sant'Orsola.)
The presence of the Spanish Mercedarian order is part of
the consolidation of the Spanish monarchy in the vice-realm of Naples in the
1500s. This church/monastery is at the western end of
via Chiaia (now a pedestrian thoroughfare), a road that,
indeed, was once the main way to get from the area
around the Royal palace to the newer Spanish expansions
to the west along the sea front. (Actually, it still is the easiest way if you
don't mind a short walk.) The church is on the site of
an earlier Chapel of St. Orsola from the 1400s;
construction to incorporate that chapel into the newer
church started in the late 1500s. The church is not
particularly conspicuous from the front as it is abutted
on both sides by other buildings. Like many
church/monasteries in Naples, it was closed under the
French in the early 1800s, but later reopened. It
underwent extensive restoration in the 1850s. Ten years
later, the unification of Italy forced the closure of
virtually all monasteries in Italy. In 1874, the former
monastic premises were sold and eventually converted
into the Sannazzaro Theater, still operating. The
adjacent church stayed a church and remains essentially
what one sees today.
3. Santa Maria delle Grazie is below the Corso Vittorio
Emanuele at a small square called Piazza Mondragone, a
name historically applied to the entire premises that
contain the small church: il Retiro di Mondragone, the
Mondragone Retreat. The entire complex was originally a
"conservatory", in the early non-musical use of the word
to mean a shelter, a place where widows and destitute
women might be cared for. The complex was founded in
1653 by Elena Aldobrandini, countess of Mondragone.
Construction of the church, itself, was somewhat later
than the shelter; the church is from 1715. Urbanization
and subdivision of the area has reduced Santa Maria
della Grazie to a rather sorry state. For a long time,
it was simply closed but has recently been at least
partially restored. It is considered an outstanding
example of late Baroque art and architecture in Naples.
4.
The
church of Santa Maria
dell’Aiuto [Saint
Mary of Eternal Help, or of Succour] is on the
small east-west street of that name about 150 yards into
the old city across the street (via Monteoliveto) from the
east side of the main post office. It is just past the
better-known church of Santa
Maria la Nova.
The architect was Dionisio Lazzari (see #7, above) and, in its newly restored condition (after years of being closed), the church may be appreciated for the absolute gem of the Neapolitan Baroque that it was. The historian Celano (writing when the church was new) recounts what has become folklore surrounding the origins of the church—that two children in 1635 posted their own crude drawing of the Blessed Virgin in a window of a lower floor of what was then the Palazzo Pappacoda (not to be confused with a church of the same name) and collected donations. When they had collected enough, they hired a real artist to do his own rendition on canvas—again to solicit donations. The process gained speed and by the time of the great plague of 1656, a small chapel had been founded and then a church—on the site of the original Pappacoda building—dedicated to Our Lady of Succour. (In an age in which such concrete manifestations of faith were held to be protection from earthquakes, eruptions of Vesuvius and pestilence, not only churches arose, but also the three so-called “plague columns” of Naples).
The church is in the design of a Greek cross—that is, a central nave with a transept of equal length as the nave; it has a central dome. A partial inventory of the art works contained in the church includes:
—three paintings by Gaspare
Traversi dated 1749: The Nativity, The
Annunciation, and the Ascension of
the Virgin;
—the monument tomb of Gennaro Acamparo by Francesco
Pagano from 1738;
—also by Pagano, the angels that support the candelabra
of the main altar;
—the painting of The Virgin of Succour
by Giuseppe Farina;
—The Flight of Joseph by Nicola Malincolico;
—the side ovals of The Archangel Michael
by Giacinto Diano.
The restoration of Santa
Maria dell’Aiuto has been spectacularly successful.
The church was a remake in the 1570s of a nearby church of
the same name that disappeared as part of Spanish
construction in the 16th century. The original church was
from 1328 and was the seat of the Order of the Knights of
St. James. The appellation "degli Italiani" (of
the Italians) may have been to distinguish it from another
church—more familiar to Neapolitans and, indeed, still a
functioning church—San
Giacomo degli Spagnoli (today, simply called
"San Giacomo," right next to City Hall). Or, says another
theory, it was to honor sailors from Pisa ("Italians" as
opposed to "Neapolitans") whose fleet rested in the port
of Naples for a while on the way home from a victory over
the Saracens further south in 1327. The façade of the
present church incorporates the portal from the 1500s as
well as a crest comprised of a shell, sword, and cross,
the symbol of the Order of St. James. The church was left
standing intentionally during the risanamento and
was reconsecrated in 1901. I have been unable to find out
if it served as a church after the giant building was put
up next door. I suspect that it was closed during that
period and simply never
reopened. (add
below, Feb 19, 2018)
The Way (& the Shell) of St. James (start
3 paragraphs up)
As far as "shell,
sword, and cross," the symbol of the Order of St. James
go, I am primarily concerned with the shell and ask you to
examine these two images (left and right) and determine
what graphic detail they have in common. (I just gave you
the answer but pretend I didn't!) Right! The shell, seen
on the right (looking like a real shell) on the facade of
San Giacomo dei Italiani (and many
others elsewhere, especially on the premises of San Giacomo (degli
Spagnoli), adjacent to the city hall) is seen
in stylized form (the "radiating" blue and yellow icon in
the center of the pillar on the left) in this travel photo
(from friend Preston Lamp. He was on the last leg of one
of the most popular pilgrimages in Christendom, the Way
of St. James, the road to the cathedral of St. James
in Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain). Rather
than "radiating," however, the lines are really many roads
coming in, leading to one place, Compostela de Santiago.
They represent the grooves on the shells of clams found on
the shores of Gallicia; some form of the shell, real or
stylized, has for centuries been a symbol of the trek.
Today, this
stylized shell (right) is seen along the many roads in
Spain and France that lead to Santiago de Compostela and
is being pushed by the European Union as a symbol of a
united Europe harking back to the first use of "Europe" in
the modern sense (in the 700s) (that is, a geographical
area with generally common cultural features) that define
a post-Roman area in southern, central and northern
Europe, all dating back to the 700s when the
"reconquest of Spain" started and when Charlemagne
declared the Holy Roman Empire; that is, when today's
"Europe" started.
Whether or not the most poetic etymology I know of "Compostela"— "field of stars"— is true, or whether W.B.Yeats had any of this in mind when he wrote, "But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you...and paced among the mountains overhead/ and hid his face amid a crowd of stars"...I'll leave that to you.
my usual thanks to Selene Salvi for her help
If the
church of Santa Maria in
Cosmedin is as old as legend says it is, no
wonder UNESCO is willing to chip in €950,000 to restore it
as a museum. That is, if it was really founded by
Constantin the Great—around the year 300—that would put
the church in the first ranks of paleo-Christian
houses of worship in Naples. At the very least, the church
is at least as old as one of the same name in Rome from
the 500s, and, in any event, has been documented to be one
of the first four parishes in Naples. The unusual name
comes from the Greek adjective cosmedin (from Greek kosmidion), meaning ornate. The church in
Naples held both Greek and Latin rites until around the
year 1200.
S.M. Cosemedin is also called S.M. di Portanova (New Gate) from its location near a medieval city gate of that name. The small square in front of the church is still called Portanova and is about one block in (i.e., to the north) from the modern straight boulevard named Corso Umberto, not far from the main building of the Federico II University.
The structure has been closed since the 1980 earthquake and is in impossibly bad and unsafe condition. Virtually nothing of the artistic interior remains, all having been either stolen/vandalized or removed for safekeeping. The configuration that one sees today is from the late 1600s and early 1700s, concealing the grounds beneath the main body of the church, site of a burial ground and presumably whatever remains of the original paleo-Christian premises. There are upper stories, as well. Through the centuries, various monastic orders found a home in an adjacent monastery, removed during the Risanamento, the urban renewal of the late 1800s. That construction/demolition also removed an ornate Baroque double stair-case at the entrance. I have heard nothing of current plans to start restoration or of the disposition of the monies supposedly allocated by UNESCO.
13.
The Church of S. Maria
della Concordia was built in 1556 to a design by
Father Giuseppe Romano, provincial vicar of the Carmelite
order. The church was built about a third of the way up
the steep slope leading to the San
Martino monastery and the Sant' Elmo fortress. The
church was, thus, well above the new main street, via
Toledo, and was at the high southwest section of the area
still called the "Spanish
quarters", built in the mid-1500s to garrison
Spanish vice-royal troops. In those days, the slopes were
still bucolic and sprinkled with churches and monasteries
at about the level of today's road, Corso Vittorio
Emanuele, which winds along east to west just above the
Concordia and other religious institutions from around the
same period. These include the nearby church of Santa Caterina da Siena and the
Convent of the Sisters of the
Most Holy Trinity (now known as the ex-Military
Hospital).
The Concordia was restored in 1718 by Giovan Battista
Nauclerio, best known in Naples for his work on the church
and monastery of San Domenico
Maggiore; the church was then completely restored in
1858. During the various closures of religious orders in
Naples since Murat, the premises
have also served as a boarding school, a music school, and
even an infamous Debtors' Prison. The most significant
painting on the premises is The Blessed Virgin with St. Michael; it
is either by Giuseppe de
Ribera or the Sicilian painter, Bernardo Azzolino
(1572 - 1645).
Confusing historical
note! The church contains the tomb of one Gaspare
Benemerino. According to one source (de Lellis, below),
Gaspare was due to become the "22nd King of Fez" when he
converted to Christianity, [thus] "...renouncing his
powerful kingdom...in order to gain the eternal kingdom of
Heaven." Since that note appeared in 1654, some sources
have simply referred to Gaspare as the son of the "King of
Fez," and as one who served Phillip III of Spain. This has
led other sources to call Gaspare a son of the ruler of
"The Kingdom of Fez," but Fez and the Kingdom of Fez are
not necessarily the same and, in this case, are probably
not.
First,
the epitaph near Gaspar's tomb in the church simply says
that he was an African king. Assuming the date on the
epitaph (1641) to be the year of his death and the
reference to "Pope Urban VIII" (papal reign 1623-44) to be
accurate, there is some confusion. Although De Lellis
transcribed the Latin epitaph to read that Gaspare served
"Phillip III of Spain," the stone (photo, right) says
"Phillip II" and even that is not clear. It might even be
a "Phillip I" that someone has altered to "Phillip II" by
adding a numeral. (Of course, that wouldn't fix the
chronology, either, but it's as close to 'III' as they
could squeeze in. "C'mon,
who's going to notice. Let's go to lunch." This
is likely to have been Guido & Vinnie's Epitaph and
Pizza Delivery Service. They still exist!)
Second, there was, indeed, an historical state called the Kingdom of Fez with a limited existence, from 1472 to 1554, but that may be irrelevant. What De Lellis meant by "the 22nd king of Fez" was probably that Gaspare was from the city of Fez, a major religious center of Islam since the founding of the city in 789 by the Idrisid dynasty. The city has been called the "Mecca of the West." Rulers of Fez (as well as other parts of Morocco) have been various dynasties called by tribal names such as Idrisid, Almoravid, Marinid, Wattasid, and Saadi. (The Kingdom of Fez is also termed the Wattasid Sultanate.) Thus, de Lellis may have meant that Gaspare was the son of a king in a long, long chain of rulers stretching back to the founding of Fez. In any event, Phillip I (or even Phillip II) on the epitaph stone has to be a mistake, which De Lellis corrected to Phillip III (reigned from 1598 to 1621) in his transcription in order to set the chronology straight. So, Gaspare Benemerino died in 1641 in Naples. He was descended from Moroccan royalty, converted to Christianity and served Phillip III of Spain. I think.
source:
de Lellis, Carlo.
Supplement to "Napoli
Sacra" by Cesare d’Engenio Caracciolo. Naples,
1654.
to entire Miscellaneous
Churches series from the table at the top of this page