The Vatican not only is the world’s smallest country, it is also fully governed by a religion. The Catholics have their headquarters in this small city-state, and everything there reminds you of Christianity. The souvenir shops sell rosaries and postcards of saints, the statues represent angels and former popes, the churches are bigger than nature, and priests can literally be found at any corner. It is the place to see for Catholics; the perfect travel destination. But what about the others? The Muslims, the Jewish, the Buddhists, the Atheists…? Well, I have to admit that, even if you do not adhere to the values of this organized religion, even if you abhor this dogma, there is such beauty, such grandiose architecture, such breathtaking artistic masterpieces in the Vatican, that not visiting it could be considered a sin! If you ever stop by Rome, go visit the tiny city-state; it is so rich in terms of art and history that it may make you forget all about the church bells, the smell of incense, and the overall religious aspect of the place (if you are not a fervent Christian), and have you experience something similar to the Stendhal Syndrome, just like myself!
Alright, so what is the Stendhal Syndrome? If you are well acquainted with this mysterious physical manifestation, you can skip this part, if not, here is the Wikipedia definition:
“Stendhal’s syndrome or Florence syndrome is a psychosomatic condition involving rapid heartbeat, dizziness, fainting, confusion and even hallucinations, allegedly occurring when individuals become exposed to objects or phenomena of great beauty.”
With that in my mind, here is how my very first visit to the Holy See went down. So, I must say that I was very happy to visit the Vatican. I had seen the well-known St. Peter’s Basilica so many times on TV and in the movies, that finally seeing it with my very own eyes was quite impressive. Nevertheless, my main objective was to see the more-than-famous Sistine Chapel, Michelangelo’s ultimate masterpiece. All my life, I had only heard amazing things about this gigantic fresco from fellow travelers, so my expectations were set at very high standards.
I then arrived for my first visit to the Vatican on an incredibly hot summer day, ready to admire the great Sistine Chapel. I walked around the small country for an hour but could not find any indication. Was it closed? Was it a myth? I asked a Swiss guard (you know, the ones who look like playing cards jokers!) who was on a cigarette break nearby about it, and he told me that the chapel was part of the Vatican Museums. I had to buy a ticket, visit all of the museums, and I would eventually arrive at the long-expected fresco. Alright. I knew that the museums were really interesting since they included art pieces like Raphael’s School of Athens, a lot of archives, and the Borgia’s’ Palace, which were all must-sees on my personal list.
The Vatican Museums were indeed amazing, but I was walking from room to room since noon; it was almost 3:00 pm now, and I still had not seen Michelangelo’s masterpiece. Had I miss it? Had I just walked by unknowingly? Was it not open to the general public anymore? I was starting to get really desperate. Yet luckily, at the very moment when I was starting to lose all hope of ever seeing the chapel, I, almost unconsciously, walked into a room; the room.
What I witnessed, what I experienced, was more beautiful than anything I had ever seen or lived through before. I gasped when I realized how immense the fresco was. Not just a big ceiling, but fully painted walls as well. Images so strong yet so delicate, and extremely detailed in a room where the act of painting must have been pure torture. It was so hot and humid in the chapel, so dark yet bizarrely so bright. It was also eerily calm. The thing is that no one is allowed to speak in the Sistine Chapel, and taking pictures is prohibited as well, but I mean, even trying to take a photo would be absolutely foolish. Nothing can capture the sublime. I remember being overwhelmed by so much beauty, by pure artistry, by perfection. Michelangelo’s masterpiece gave me cardiac palpitations; I was sweating, I honestly almost passed out (just like when I saw his glorious “David” in Florence, but now more intensely!) I witnessed other people who were crying, admiring, smiling… I’m not even sure if some of them were still breathing! It was such a magnificent little life moment. A few minutes of pure bliss.
I had seen Michelangelo’s fresco on photos many times before seeing it for real, and it does not compare. Obviously, nothing compares to a photo, but this was a whole other league of breathtaking beauty. This type of painting is not my style at all; I usually prefer abstract works and bold colours. But oh my, did that change. After my little excursion to the Vatican Museums, I became a true Michelangelo fanatic. No artist had made me feel that way before (Van Gogh eventually did – kind of! – but that was way after).
The city-state of the Vatican may be controversial in terms of politics, religious views and ideas, but its beauty surely is undeniable. And for that, I truly believe that visiting this State, even only for a day, is an absolute essential!
Bittersweet Travel Memories 