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POSTCARD FROM ITALY

Photo: AP

Magnificent monument: The Piazza del Duomo.

The journey from the ultra-modern Malpensa airport to the heart of Milan was itself a memorable one. I first took the “treno” (train) from Malpensa to Cadorna and then the metro from Cadorna to Milan. There was a pale sun filtering through the clouds as I watched the quaint houses and the leafless trees silhouetted against the landscape.

Milan has a hoary history. The city was founded in 603 B.C. by the Celts and conquered by the Romans in 222 A.D. In 1395 it became a Duchy. In 1500, the Duchy of Milan ceased to exist when the Spanish conquered it and ruled it for 200 years. In 1740, the Austrians captured Milan and installed Maria Theresa as empress. She moulded Milan into one of Europe’s most vital and glorious cities. The Milanese wrested their city from the Austrians in 1848 and, in 1861, it became incorporated into Italy.

Predictably, it was raining when I reached Milan but I soon got into the shelter of the Duomo in the Piazza del Duomo, so celebrated throughout history as the world’s largest church after St. Peters in Rome and the Cathedral of Seville.

“It took 500 years to complete the cathedral from the time it was started in 1386,” the guide informed us. But facts and figures do scant justice to this magnificent monument to Gothic architecture and to the indomitable human spirit.

The light filtering through the stained-glass windows had a mystic quality to it as supplicants and tourists lit a candle or bent their heads in prayer. Caught up in the awe-inspiring and devout aura, I too knelt down and said a special prayer for my family.

I stepped out of the Duomo through the largest of the five bronze doors, into the sleet, and walked down the Piazza Duomo and came to the Arch of Triumph which leads to the Galleria Vittoria Emanuele II, a hymn to “art nouveau”. It houses boutiques, restaurants and the floor of the central octagon bears the symbol of the reigning Italian family, the Savoys. It is surrounded by the symbol of the four major Italian cities: the lily of Florence, the shewolf of Rome, the red cross on a white background of Milan, and the Bull of Turin.

The galleria leads to Piazza della Scala. At the entrance to the Piazza is a stationery shop run by a Sri Lankan and I stopped to pick up some postcards and a guidebook before visiting the legendary La Scala Theatre, passing the statue of Leonardo da Vinci. At the risk of stating the obvious, La Scala is the temple of opera, music, ballet, and the stage from which Toscanini, Maria Callas, Placido Domingo and a host of other artists have held their audiences spellbound. As I looked down on the plush red draperies trimmed with gold, and the rich velvet seats in boxes, once the exclusive preserve of the Milanese nobility, listening to the piped music of Verdi, I had a feeling of being suspended in time. The theatre can seat 2015 people, and hanging above the centre is the fabled Bohemian crystal chandelier, said to have 365 bulls, one for each day of the year. I recalled that the theatre was bombed during the war and thought what a telling comment it was that after the war the Milanese people wanted La Scala to be the first building to be rebuilt, even before the houses and other damaged buildings.

There is a museum and a restaurant attached to La Scala and I had a quick cup of cappuccino “bolente” before leaving, wafted by the aura of Scala and the strains of “La Traviata”. As I walked down Via Dante, I was touched to see pigeons warming themselves on a grill in the street.

The next stop on my itinerary was the Sforzesco castle. Among its many treasures I was most impressed by the unfinished Pieta Rondanini by Michelangelo, and the Tirvulzioni Tapestries depicting the 12 months of the year and their zodiac signs.

My last stop was the Church of Santa Maria delle Grazie, which houses Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper”. I was awe-struck by the master work, its harmony, its balance, its studied naturalness, and above all its “soul”.

As I retraced my steps to the Piazza Duomo via the Galleria, I glanced at my watch. There was just enough time for a quick bite before I caught the metro. I was lucky to get a table and I quickly ordered “risotto alla Milanese”, the traditional Milanese rice dish with saffron and white wine and tortelli, a fried cookie.

The mystique of Milan wrapped me in its after-glow all the way back to Malpensa, and stayed with me long after I reached Perugia.

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