by Cheryl Tucker published on July 28, 2009
If you stay in Florence long enough, you'll find a piazza--one where you feel at home, one that you'll seek out after being away. On my first stay in Florence a few years ago, passing through the centrally located Piazza della Repubblica was part of my daily routine; I thought of it as a "throughway" piazza. The space is quite plain. Unlike Piazza della Signoria, you won't find ornate sculptures of David or Neptune, nor is it bordered by a beautiful Franciscan basilica like the one found in Piazza di Santa Croce. But, as often happens with rituals, I started to like passing through the square. After a couple of weeks, instead of racing through to reach one of the cafés on via Corso, or heading straight for via Calimala toward Ponte Vecchio, I'd stop and sit for a spell on the stone seat at the base of the piazza's only column.
I would just sit there, under the statue of Abundance that tops the column, watching. Near the booths where soccer jerseys are sold, a woman would sing opera to a crowd that gathered quickly; a Romanian band would set up their amps under the arches of the loggia that runs along the western side of the square; spritely music would float over from the spinning red and gold carousel. After several visits, I soon realized that the column was one of the few places in Florence where I could sit in peace and just be. I didn't have to buy an expensive coffee or scurry out of the way; while sitting under Abundance, I could simply experience the spontaneous theater unfolding before me. It was a rare, singular feeling.
Sitting at that column became a kind of meditation--and still is. When I returned to Florence last September, I spent the first couple of weeks running around with friends, going to dinner parties, taking the train to Pontassieve out in the countryside, eating out. Nearly a month went by before I finally had a chance to pay a proper visit to my piazza.
It wasn't planned. I had been shopping and doing errands nearby when I realized that I had nothing else to do and no one expecting me. The sun was about to set. I bought a gelato and sat down at the column. Within a few minutes, a woman in the southeast corner of the square started singing an aria. As I listened, the sun slowly burnt the sky behind the arch and the colors of the carousel brightened. The time since my last visit dissolved; I felt as if I'd never been away.
I've heard that most Italians don't even like Piazza della Repubblica, possibly because of its plain character, but also because medieval streets, buildings, churches--even ancient ruins--were torn down to make way for it in the late nineteenth century. The new square commemorates the reunification of Italy, and the spirit with which it was built can be read in the Latin verse on top of the Arcone, the grand arch:
©2009 Cheryl Tucker. Photo by Melinda Gallo.