CORTONA

Cue (NZERS), Issue 34, 31 October 1945, Page 11

CORTONA

TIT II AT is charm? And lolly (l some YV towns' possess it in such an outstanding degree? It seems better not to ask, lest the clumsy fingers of analysis brush the bloom off the butterfly wing, and the charm die by being pinned remorselessly to paper, Sufficient surely to be thankful for it. Cortona possesses that elusive quality, and few New Zealanders who hare visited it do not carry pleasant memories of that quiet and unhurried little town, perched on its private hill-top, while the busy stream of traffic fioivs past it in the valley.

Cortona is not on the way to anywhere and he who visits it must do so of design. But it is a design that is amply repaid. The chief attraction lies not in fine buildings nor in notable pictures, though these are not lacking. It is to be found rather in the town as a whole. Lying within its Etruscan walls, whose mighty blocks of stone testify to the enduring masonry of those ancient builders, it has changed little and grown not at all over many centuries. Indeed before the Roman power was known it was a city of no small renown. As one of the twelve confederate cities of Etruria it was a fortress with few superiors in Italy. But now there are few memories of its famous past except those walls and the antiquities in the Accademia Etrusca’s Museum in the Palazzo Preform. At the present moment the museum is closed but it is worth more than a-moment’s attention on ' account of the fascinating variety of the stone coats of arms let into the outer walls that face on to the Piazza Signorelli, named in memory of the town’s most famous son.

Luca Signorelli was born here about 1450, and though his most celebrated

works are the frescoes in Oryicto Cathedral, masterpieces that clearly stamp him as the precursor of Michael Angelo, some fine paintings of his are to be found in Cortona. Some are in the Cathedral, which is but a short way from the Piazza Signorelli, down the Via Casali.. The Duomo is a most interesting building. Once Tuscan Romanesque,, in the eighteenth century it was turned, into a good example of a Renaissance basilica. The inside is cool and fresh, with a pleasant barrel-vaulted nave and fine grey composite columns. Outside, the mixture is more obvious, especially at the main door where it is easy to see how the Renaissance doorway has been inserted into the far more ancient walls. The uncertain marriage of the two styles is there not altogether happy.

The Duomo hag a. very, fine .Signorelli, The Communion of the Apostles, and in the Baptistery is an Annunciation. by Era Angelico, which is typical of that artist’s sweetness and charm. The Cathedral also possesses a most interesting Roman Sarcophagus, on which a lively battle is raging between centaurs and men. It is almost the

only memorial of the Romans, who left less mark on this town than on most of their other possessions.

From the Cathedral a pleasant walk is found by turning up the hill and climbing steep ways where the very cobbles are set on edge to give the feet a grip. One goes past charming houses, set about with chestnuts, sycamores and vines, up streets deeply guttered to carry the wild rush of winter rains, and which, being Quite impossible for cars, have a rare rustic Quiet. One feels that here the war never came, and that one is seeing the true life of an Italian town, as it has been lived for centuries. There is an

unchanging stillness, broken only by children’s voices and the occasional clatter of shoes. After the bustle and rush of such places as Perugia, Cortona is very soothing, and infinitely restful.

The climb leads past the house of Pietro Berettini, Cortona’s other famous artist and architect, and a quaint-ly-worded plate let into its front records that there on November 1,1596, Pietro was born of humble parents. Oddly enough, he is hardly represented in his native town either by pictures or by buildings.

This house is just below a delightful little tree—shaded Piazza whose centre is occupied by a curious and ancient well, called the Pozzo Caviglia. Near the well one strikes the Via Niccolo, sign that one is approaching the smallest, and the most ramshackle, and yet the friendliest little church in all Tuscany, the Church of San Niccolo. At last, right at the top of the town, it comes into view, set at the end of a cypress— forecourt that looks over the whole plain north of Trasimeno, right over to where the volcanic cone of Monte Amiata lifts against the western skyline.

San Niccolo is often closed but a knock on the side door brings out the old lady who seems to be in charge. She is very proud of the great treasure of the church, an altar-piece by Signorelli. Her pride is justified, for this picture, a Deposition, has a rare harmony and richness of colouring, together with a beauty of line and composition which together make it a masterpiece fit to rank with the Orvieto frescoes. It is the sort of picture one remembers when a hundred other paintings have faded from the mind’s eye. It would be worth the walk even if that walk were not its own reward. The old lady is very anxious for her treasure to be properly appreciated and cheerfully clambers on the altar and removes the cross to afford a better view. Do not be alarmed if she then proceeds to attack the frame of the picture with a large butcher’s knife. She is not about to wreck it. This is merely her method of levering it out, for it is on hinges and swings out to reveal on the back

another Signorelli, a Macldona enthroned with Peter and Paul, much more conventional than the Deposition, which well deserves its place of honour permanently in view.

Leaving the church one can find one’s way by zig-zagging vias and vicolos, down again to the level of the main town. Every little street is a delight, and here, there and everywhere are the sturdy houses, solid and unassuming, but tasteful and well-proportioned, with every now and again some interesting ornament of iron or stone. The Gothic Town Hall is small but good, a miniature in the same tradition as the Palazzo Vecchio of Florence, though perhaps nearest to Perugia’s Palazzo Municipio. 1

Many other buildings in and around Cortona would merit the attention of anyone staying longer in the town. San Domenico, for instance, has some Signorellis, and there are one or two palatial private houses in the suburbs which arc fine examples of how the rich Italian lives. But the chief impression of the visitor to Cortona will always be carried away from strolls through the pleasant streets; an indefinite impression of a quiet well-

ordered existence in a stable society where there is time to ’’cultivate one’s garden.”