Piazza San Pietro -- Final Analysis and Reflection

Details in the Reflection

In the closed square at night sounds and discernible forms appear in the darkness. Walking around the square to reach Piazza Risorgimento, I am alone on the street—even the fence at the edge, usually still populated at the late hour, is empty. I can hear the rushing water from the fountains in the distance and the low murmur from the Carbinieri nearby. A cluster of red lights in a shadowy corner contains the burning paper of lit cigarettes and the glare of brake lights from police cars.

Couples lean against the gate, holding hands. They hold out a camera at arm’s length to capture the moment, the space, and a kiss. Quiet, subtle moments like this encapsulate the way Rome can affect you.

When walking along the outside edge, the four rows of columns appear like trees scattered across a forest floor. Light spills across the ringed trunks—marble as old as ancient trees. Their age displays the patina on the surface and the weight that they hold. They hold the weight of a divided world and a divergent Catholic following. The old faces of the saints stare down at a new, diverse crowd and listen to the arguments existing for centuries as new conflicts arise.

Final Analysis

Living close to Piazza San Pietro has had an odd effect on me. I walk through the space between two and four times a day. Its power and prominence have been numbed, its captivating hold—no longer strong. However, details now stand out blaringly. The human element has become far more interesting. The ability to see and understand how people observe and revere the space was something I did not expect.

After completing an overview of the basilica and piazza’s history and many layers of design intention, I have begun to further appreciate the precision required to master such a construction. Not one, but many designers have contributed to what St. Peter’s stands as today. A concept present throughtout its history is that one can build from another. That we can work together to create greatness.

St. Peter’s offers us an interesting concept; that such different shapes, like a rectangle, an ellipse, and a pyramid, can come together to form one unique shape…one unique idea. That the differences between us can frame something better. If hard angles can be smoothed by gentle curves and the sound of running water can be featured in a sea of cobblestones, we can combine what we think cannot work as one into a greater force.

The idea that even for a brief time, parts can become a whole, differences can be overlooked, and that an object can be built of such beauty, such spiritual elegance that it can garner peace, understanding, and a communal space to appreciate what humankind can create.