Garbatella

The Garbatella metro station (featured image) is definitely not on the tourist circuit. It is fairly deserted at a time when Repubblica, Barberini, Spagna, Cavour and Colosseo are bursting at the seams with tourists. This is the metro station for the interesting Roman district of Ostiense. Via Ostiense, which gives the district its name, is the old Roman road which connected the city to the port of Ostia Antica.

Exit towards Via Ostiense from the Garbatella metro station

If you look up Ostiense in a tourist guide you will find only the Centrale Montemartini museum listed here. But when I arrived to visit the museum I found the place was full of spectacular splashes of colour: graffiti artists had been hard at work in the noisy area around the metro station. A pedestrian bridge takes you across the tracks from the station. As you descend, the brutal concrete of the stairwell is softened with bright graffiti (photo above). After one flight of stairs there is a little terrace from which one sees a brick building with a colourful mural across it (photo below). I learnt later that the building belongs to ATAC, the company which runs the public transport system in Rome, and the mural has been painted by a Berlin artist called Clemens Behr

The ATAC building outside metro Garbatella has an eye-catching mural

The bridge was being used as an impromptu gallery for a group show of photography. On my way to the museum I’d looked quickly at it and told myself that I would come back to look more carefully. As I was strolling back, camera in hand, after photographing the nearby roads, a girl on a phone strode towards me. "Are you the official photographer?" she asked "I’ve been waiting." I’m quite happy to be mistaken for a professional, but I told her that I wasn’t. She smiled and said there was an exhibition of photos I might want to see. I replied that this is where I was headed. The exhibition had some very interesting photos. While I was looking at them, I heard the stuttering sound of a camera set on exposure bracket. The official photographer had arrived, and he looked nothing like me.

Centrale Montemartini

I must have read about the Centrale Montemartini some time. When The Blessed told me about a museum where Roman statues stand majestically poised against electrical generators from the thirties, it rang a bell. An added attraction was that it was not in the usual touristy regions of Rome, but in the grungy Ostiense Marconi district near the Tiber. So I accompanied my Rich Friend and The Blessed to the museum.

The 3rd level of Centrale Montemartini
Entering the Boiler Room
For us the easiest way to get to the museum was to take Metro B, get off at Garbatella station and walk the short distance to the museum. It does not look very special as you walk in.

The power station was opened in 1912, and initially produced 7 MegaWatts of electricity. A decade later another 9 MegaWatt capacity was added. In 1933 Benito Mussolini inaugurated the two diesel generators from Franco Tosi, which together produced 12 MegaWatts of electrical power. When the plant was decommissioned in 1963, it would have been producing significantly more power with the added diesel equipment from Brown Boveri. The building with its mosaic floor is an example of the transitional industrial architecture of the early twentieth century. Its conversion to a museum space was the first time such a transition was made.

An exhibit in the 2nd level of Centrale Montemartini

The top level of the museum, called the Boiler Room, contains some of the art which I liked most. These included two mosaics: a huge hunting scene with deer, rabbits, a boar, dogs and human figures from the 4th century CE was found in 1904, and another which portrays the changing seasons. In one corner of this hall I found a emotional sculpture of the flayed Marsyas. He was a faun who challenged Apollo to a musical contest, lost, and was flayed as a lesson to others. This level is full of smaller sculptures which I found very moving.

Head in the 2nd level of Centrale Montemartini

The main Hall of Machines (featured image) is dominated by the two diesel generators. Here I saw two female figures in a dark igneous stone; they are called the Celian Hill figures, and date perhaps from the 1st century AD. One of them is named the Victory of Simmaci. The head shown above is a copy of the head of Agrippina the Younger, more easily identified today as the mother of Nero. The 3rd century marble head in the previous photo is unidentified, and was found in 1933 in Rome.

The entrance level of the museum is called the Hall of Columns, and contained some of the exhibits which surprised me the most. One was a statue of a person wearing a toga and carrying two busts in his hand. Apparently in the 1st century CE, middle class families appeared in public with busts of parents and grandparents, in order to emphasize their lineage.Frutti di mare in the 1st level of Centrale Montemartini I could begin to understand why at this time the story of Marsyas would have been popular.

This level contains household and funerary objects. The slave-holding structure of the Roman empire becomes visible in the exhibits. The distinction between portraits of Romans and defeated barbarians is interesting to see. The marble sculptures are punctuated by beautiful mosaics.centralemontemartini6 I was charmed by two marine mosaics from the 1st century BCE. Both of them were discovered in 1888 in Rome near Via Panisperma. The beautifully detailed execution allows you to identify the species. The subtle variations in colour needed for such detail requires immense amount of work to source and shape the tesserae required to execute these pieces. The cost would have been immense. The merchants who could afford to have such work installed in their homes would have been the Roman equivalent of today’s top industrialists.

We walked out into the bleak streets of Ostiense Marconi. The project to turn this into a district of arts and sciences has been stalled by global economics, and the huge contraction in Italy’s GDP.

Roma Termini

It is hard to travel to Rome without encountering the chaotic central railway station called Roma Termini. Vittorio de Sica and Federico Fellini have both filmed the station. It also appeared briefly with George Clooney and Brad Pitt in Ocean’s Twelve. On previous trips to Rome I’ve always told myself that I would come back and photograph this awful monstrosity. This time I tried.

I’d thought that the grandiose and rather thoughtless terminal was built during the Fascist times. But it seems that the history of this station is more interesting. The first construction was started by Pope Pius IX just before the storming of Rome and the unification of Italy, and finished by the new Italian government. The grandiose side wings were indeed built during Mussolini’s rule, but the rest of the plan (image above) was never completed. The front hall was completed in 1950.

View of Roma Termini

On airport shuttles it is perfectly acceptable to let out your inner tourist. My phone was charged and ready to take photos. The last hundreds of meters as a train pulls into a major station are always terrifically photogenic in a way. The industrial landscape of merging tracks has a charm of its own. I arrived on a bright and sunny day, so the overhead equipment threw nice shadows on to the tracks. I was quite please at having taken the featured image.

Just outside the side galleries of the station are two tall towers. They look like something de Chirico could have painted. I managed to catch a photo as I passed (above). I would have liked to walk back and taken some from closer in. The towers surrounded by electrical wires and tracks are intensely photogenic.

Roma Termini shadows

The tourist information centre in the station is in one of Mazzoni’s galleries. The cafe next to it serves much better coffee than the shops in the front arcade of the station. I had my coffee and then walked into the information centre. The stairs climbing up towards the high vaulted roof is another thing one can photograph. There were people doing that. As I took out my camera and looked, two policemen came up to me and told me to stop. Italy is not as colour blind as Portugal.

From the main concourse one can still take photos that say something about how Mazzoni conceived of the station. The huge shadows on the marble walls (above) remind us of Mussolini’s delusions of grandeur which Mazzoni tried to transcribe into stone. Another example of this thinking is the difficulty of finding a toilet in the station: you either have to go up to the restaurant level and wait in a long queue, or go down to the metro level.

In other ways the station has improved tremendously since I was last here. There are ticket machines everywhere; they can be switched to English, and they are very easy to use. Since you can choose your train timing from a scrolling list, you don’t even need time-table information from the web. I walked out after a short stop at the three story high bookshop, Borri’s, which stands in the entrance lobby of the station. I’ve come back to it many times over the years, and I’m happy that it still continues to do business.