The Feast Day of San Gennaro is the most important religious festival in Naples, Italy. San Gennaro, the Bishop of Benevento and martyr who was persecuted for being a Christian and finally beheaded in 305 AD, is the patron saint of Naples and the city's 13th century Gothic cathedral is dedicated to him. Inside the cathedral, or duomo, the Chapel of the Treasure of San Gennaro is decorated with Baroque frescoes and other artworks, but most importantly it holds the saint's relics including two sealed vials of his coagulated blood housed in a silver reliquary.
According to legend, some of his blood was collected by a woman who took it to Naples where it liquefied 8 days later.
On the morning of September 19, the feast day of San Gennaro, thousands of people fill the Naples Cathedral and Piazza del Duomo, the square in front of it, hoping to see the saint's blood liquefy in what's known as the miracle of San Gennaro. In a solemn religious ceremony, the Cardinal removes the vials of blood from the chapel where they're kept and taken in a procession, along with a bust of San Gennaro, to the cathedral's high altar. The crowd watches anxiously to see if the blood miraculously liquefies, believed to be a sign that San Gennaro has blessed the city (or a bad omen if it doesn't). If it liquefies, the church bells ring and the Cardinal takes the liquefied blood through the cathedral and out into the square so everyone can see it. Then he returns the reliquary to the altar where the vials remain on display for 8 days.
As with many Italian festivals, there's much more than just the main event.
The ceremony is followed by a religious procession through the streets of the historic center where both the streets and the shops are closed. Stands selling toys, trinkets, food, and candy are set up in the streets. Festivities go on for eight days until the reliquary is returned to its place.

The miracle of San Gennaro's blood is also performed on December 16 and the Saturday before the first Sunday in May as well as special times during the year to ward off disasters, such as an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, or for visiting dignitaries.
A San Gennaro festival is also held in September in many Italian communities outside Italy, including New York and Los Angeles in the US. Read more about it in Italian American Festivals.




By Martha Bakerjian

Today the grounds and palatial buildings are all part of the Facoltà di Agraria, of the Università Degli Studi di Napoli “Frederico II”.  It is a place for botany and students – perhaps fitting for a site chosen by a young man almost three hundred years ago, towards the end of the 1730s, as the perfect place to build a royal residence.
The man who commissioned the great, golden building was Carlos de Bourbon, son of King Philip V of Spain and his second wife, the Italian, Elisabetta Farnese – a woman of ambition and vision.

This Carlos, Elisabetta’s eldest son sailed from Spain in his late teens.  It turned out to be much more than a ‘gap year’.

Carlos (Charles) started out as the Duke of Parma and by the time he was 19, thanks to diplomatic and military manoeuvrings, had become the King of Naples.  Three years later, when he was just 22, plans were in hand to begin work on a royal palace at Portici.
When it came to royal palaces this young King of Naples had spectacular ancestry – his great-grandfather was Louis XIV of France, the ‘Sun King’, the famed personality behind the palace and gardens of Versailles.
Charles had been shown how to aim high, how to emphasise his leadership with grand buildings, and Portici, close to the buried treasures of Herculaneum, gave him the chance to make an impression.  Here he made full use of two vistas that not even Versailles could match – Vesuvius to the rear, and the Bay of Naples and the island of Capri to the front.

Charles commissioned other palaces and grand buildings including the better known Capodimonte and the huge palace at Caserta.  He also built the famous  San Carlo opera house, down near the heart of Naples.
We followed our guide down the road which runs through the wood to a junction where a grey wall towers out of the trees.  This, we were told, was the equivalent of the King’s ball park. We stared up, and up again, in amazement.
A gateway through the centre of this ‘games’ wall leads directly down through an avenue of trees to one set of entrance gates to the palace itself
Today, even with the modern glass houses and the botanical gardens of the university to either side of the approach, there is a softness to the palace which is overseen by the battered statue of Flora.  She was rescued from Herculaneum and, still elegant, faces towards the palace with a fountain at her feet, and with her back turned on Vesuvius, the volcano that buried her in AD 79.
Inside the palace is empty of all its old furnishings.  Instead there are tractors in the ground floor entrances, agricultural displays in the corridors, and students criss-crossing the courtyards.

This palace, once the start of so much, now feels apart – not forgotten, but like an elderly matron trying to find her place in a new school yard.
Perhaps King Charles – the first king to actually live in Naples, to rule it as a kingdom in its own right – would have been pleased.  He wanted the palace to be part of the life of the local people and insisted that the public road, then called the Strada delle Calabrie, should run through the quadrangle at its centre.
We wandered the high corridors of the palace, and gazed up at the painted ceilings and around at the sudden detail on the walls, and at the occasional agricultural displays.
Windows designed for giants opened out towards the sea while lower down, and to either side, wide wings lined with statues sheltered a level below, stables perhaps in the old days – now overgrown carparks.
It all felt light, simple, and forgotten – the entrance to another abandoned life.

We left the palace along the public road that runs through its main quadrangle.  To one side, through closed gates, we got a glimpse of the old Museo Erculaneo, former home to the treasures excavated at Herculaneum in the 18th century.  Many of these treasures, stored and detailed by the Bourbons, have left Naples with a unique – ‘hashtag’ incredible inheritance – much of it better known internationally than even the city’s grand palazzi.
We ended our day with one last glance at Flora as we walked back through the university grounds, through the park of the forgotten palazzo, a palazzo that has helped to preserve, and to provide a base from which to create, so much that makes Napoli famous today.



Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2015  

It was a great week for archaeology in Campania as 3 major initiatives were completed, and restored ruins were returned to the public at Pompeii and Stabia.

At Pompeii, as part of the Grande Progetto Pompei, the Basilica was re-opened on 30th July, following interventions to secure the ruins, in particular, where weaknesses and loss of material were found in the plasterwork and brick columns.

The Basilica was built in the second half of the 2nd century BC for the administration of justice and economic negotiations and as part of the general project of monumentalising the city.  The building has a rectangular plan, 3 aisles, and a pitched roof and remains of decorations in the “first style”are still visible.  At the bottom is the Tribunal, reached by wooden stairs, where the judges sat.

Entry to the Basilica may be limited to the lateral side of the building, situated on Via Marina.

At Stabia, new rooms, which until now have been unvisitable, in Villa Arianna, were re-opened to the public on Sunday 2nd August.  Villa Arianna is a residential complex of the Roman era, built on the edge of the plateau of Varno in a panoramic position on the gulf.  It owes its name to the great mythological paintings found on the back wall of one of the rooms.

The works, which mainly concern the villa’s thermal complex, started in 2010.  They were carried out by a team of restorers from the State Hermitage Museum of Saint Petersburg, Russia, alongside restorers from the Office of the ruins of Stabia and consisted of works of excavation, restoration and relief.  According to the Hermitage:

The Stabian Expedition is the first Russian archaeological expedition in Western Europe, a fine example of international collaboration in archaeology.

From those investigations it was possible to clearly identify the organization of the thermal sector of the villa, consisting of a porticoed room with a small green space in the middle that served as an area of disengagement for the various rooms making up the thermal sector (tepidarium, caldarium, laconium, frigidarium).  A corridor that leads into a cubicle, already identified and looted during the Bourbon period, with a refined decoration of the late III style and mosaic floor, was also revealed.

Rooms 44 and 45 were also re-opened for the occasion, after having recently been restored by the Accademia delle Belle Arti of Varsavia.  These rooms, which originally opened onto the atrium of the villa, present a decoration in II style which is very well preserved.

These restorations at Villa Arianna were completed as part of existing agreements between the Superintendence for Pompeii, Herculaneum and Stabiae and the RAS (Restoring Ancient Stabiae) Foundation, a non-profit Italian cultural foundation established in Washington DC in 2002 by the University of Maryland as part of a cooperation project in the field of cultural heritage.

The third major initiative was the re-opening, on 3rd August, of the Palestra Grande at Pompeii, and the permanent exhibition of Moregine frescoes.

The Palestra Grande, which closed in 2008, has re-opened to the public after restoration works.  The restoration has made it possible to enjoy the Palestra as it would have been at its height, in its original style, whilst at the same time making use of the space for both permanent and temporary exhibitions.

Besides the Palestra itself, a permanent exhibition of Moregine frescoes has also opened.  Until now, the frescoes have been exhibited internationally, but have returned to Pompeii to the southern portico of the Palestra, their final, prestigious location.  The setting has a great emotional impact, and is accompanied by an evocative sound installation, specially made by the CRM (Centro di ricerca musicale).  The frescoes were found in Moregine at the splendid complex, around 600 metres south of the wall of Pompeii, and were discovered in 1959 during works to build a road between Naples and Salerno.

Due to the popularity of the re-opening of the Palestra Grande, its new open hours will be every day from 9.30 to 17.20 and Saturday evening 20.00 to 24.00.

This really is a very exciting time for these sites, and hopefully a sign of more good things to come!




By Holly Willmott

On one of my first trips to Naples, a few years ago with my husband and our son (then just a year old) we went in search of one of the city's famous pizza parlours. We wandered down the back alleys of town, past a man in a hot pink three-piece suit, his little finger accessoriesed with a heavy gold signet ring. He was sitting in the front of a funeral parlour shouting into his mobile phone. Teenagers, sometimes three to a moped, hair gelled against the wind, overtook us at high speeds. In front of buildings decked with washing lines, grannies in housedresses and worn slippers stopped their gossiping for a quick pinch of my son's fat cheeks. We navigated past dark storefronts, dilapidated but still gorgeous grand palazzos, and more than a couple of overflowing rubbish bins.

The gritty, cinematic scenes seemed plucked out of Rio or Mexico City, rather than Italy, especially when contrasted with well-ordered Tuscany, where we live, and where pretty, ordered tableaux seem arranged purely for photo shoots, and rubbish disappears as seamlessly as the day. But for me, as for many who fall in love with the city, it is the contrasts of Naples that appeal – it's a rebellious but beautiful place with layers of ancient art, a chaos that is almost soap operatic, and a determination to thrive even when things seem to be falling apart.

But in the eyes of a new generation of entrepreneurs trying to showcase the city for tourists and citizens alike, Naples is far more than a caricature of itself. One of them, mayor Luigi de Magistris, has quickly become a symbol for the innovators, looking beyond the city's clichés and bringing a bit more order while preserving its antique treasures.

In fact, since de Magistris was elected in 2011, the city has gone through a noticeable shift: traffic restrictions on the waterfront and in the historic centre have made it easier to navigate, and the mayor's commitment to recycling has eased the rubbish problem. Just as importantly, his determination to pull apart the corrupt power structures (consider him a leftist in the same vein as Matteo Renzi, the new prime minister) has created a sense of civic pride. Volunteers are helping clean and maintain the city's gardens and squares alongside beleaguered municipal workers, who have felt the budget crunch more than in other parts of Italy.

As a result of this mood change, cultural landmarks such as the Capodimonte museum have stepped into the spotlight. Set in magnificent gardens that were once the hunting preserve of the Bourbons, the Capodimonte, which opened in its current incarnation in 1840, has one of the world's most underrated art collections. Unlike in more famous spots, where it can be hard to see the art for the throngs, here you can enjoy masterpieces such as Caravaggio's the Flagellation, Titian's Danaë with Eros, and Breughel Senior's the Blind Leading the Blind – almost alone.

And it's not just the ancient that's getting attention. Underneath the city, an innovative scheme to use metro stops as art installations has become one of the most talked-about projects in Italy. Due for completion in 2015, it was curated by Achille Bonito Oliva, a former director of the Venice Biennale. He commissioned more than 100 artists and architects to help transform the city's metro stations into a city-wide museum (metro.na.it).

The 11 stations completed so far include a psychedelic design by Karim Rashidfor Università station, Gae Aulenti's complex of glass and steel at Dante, and the jaw-dropping Toledo stop, designed by Catalan architect Oscar Tusquets Blanca. This ethereal space includes a particularly evocative escalator climbing into a light-panelled seascape by Robert Wilson. Other artists involved include Sol LeWitt, Joseph Kosuth, and William Kentridge.

Above ground, the Madre contemporary art gallery in the Donnaregina palace was one of the first of a new generation of museums in Italy (like the Zaha Hadid-designed Maxxi in Rome) with site-specific installations from artists such as Richard Serra, Jeff Koons and Anish Kapoor, and two rooms of frescos by influential Naples-born artist Francesco Clemente.

The city's growing reputation for contemporary art has also attracted exciting private galleries and dealers. The Lia Rumma gallery, for example, is a new spot with a decidedly modern agenda. The whitewashed space, with its soaring ceilings, features the likes of Anselm Kiefer, Vanessa Beecroft, Marina Abramovic, as well as Kentridge, among its contemporary heavyweights.

The gallery is in the Chiaia district, with grand 19th century buildings running down to the waterfront. Here creative businesses have turned the mostly residential area into a model of revitalization: locals congregate at bar and restaurant Crudorè, round the corner on Piazza Vittoria, for great seafood and views, or for an espresso a short walk north at Anhelo, a two-year-old cafe with great home-roasted beans. An outpost of one of the Naples' most famous pizza spots, Sorbillo has just opened on the seafront Via Partenope. To feel at home in the neighbourhood, try a stay at the stylish three-bedroom Micalò hotel (rooms from €140 B&B).

On my last trip to Naples, I based myself at the luxurious Romeo hotel (rooms from €160 a night) right by the port on Via Cristoforo Colombo. Its sleek rooftop pool offered a bird's eye view of the sea, the ferries setting out for Capri and, in the distance, Mount Vesuvius itself. Inside, the owners' contemporary art collection dazzled alongside a sushi bar and a beautiful, quiet spa. The whole property exemplifies a new kind of Naples, but I almost felt relieved when I walked outside. Vespas were whizzing by and jovial restaurant owners straight out of central casting were calling out to us to try their catch of the day. I don't want my beloved city getting too modern or sanitised after all – it's still all about the character, and layers of new and old.



www.theguardian.com

Photo
Sara Fox

The only way to reach this restaurant is by taxi – it is very remote and a great favourite with the locals.
 You find too many tourists here. In the typical Italian-style courtyard, where all guests eat, the dominating feature is the huge lemon tree that covers the entire terrace. Very romantic.
 Meals are a leisurely affair, during which the owner accompanies guests to the anti-pasti buffet, which offers seasonal delicacies prepared according to the great island traditions of sweet, sun-ripened cherry tomatoes, peppery rocket, succulent egg plant and zucchini, cold cuts, sea food, fresh mozzarella, salads, and pasta parcels.
 Only the very finest of local products are used to create the dishes featured on the à la Carte menu, be it the freshest of fish or highly prized meats. 
The same attention has been given to the selection of wines and to da Paolino’s famous circular dessert table, which is dominated by a magnificent display of wild berries, seasonal fruit and copious quantities of whipped cream.




Angela Zurlo

Here’s one for the movie buffs among you...

Which Italian beauty has starred in dozens of cinema blockbusters in a film career spanning more than 70 years?

Answer: The quaint Mediterranean island of Procida in the Bay of Naples.

For it’s here that Jude Law and Matt Damon filmed many of the scenes that won them rave reviews for their roles in The Talented Mr Ripley in 1999.

And it’s the place that one of Italy’s most celebrated films – Il Postino – was shot in 1994.

It’s easy to see why movie location experts flock to this lovely little island when searching for rustic Italian scenery and tumbledown architecture because, with its historic pastel-coloured houses and narrow cobbled streets, it’s got the lot.

Often overlooked by the tourist hordes who head for the Gucci-lined streets of nearby Capri, or the thermal spa resorts on neighbouring Ischia, Procida has a charm all of its own, with a wonderful mix of working harbours, antique villages and family-friendly beaches.

Our favourite beach was Spiaggia del Pozzovecchio, one of the locations in Il Postino.

With its shallow expanse of beautiful blue water and soft sand it was perfect for our playful four-year-old son.

We spent an idyllic morning there watching small boats slowly cruise into the bay and drop anchor as the sun rose over the island and focused its gaze on the beach.

A visit there is a good option for anyone on a budget. Unlike many of Italy’s beaches, where paying for a sunbed, chair and umbrella are the norm, you have the option of relaxing on the sand for free.

We also spent a day at Ciraccio beach where you can enjoy views of the protected nature reserve of Vivara, which is connected to Procida by a bridge.
Our base in Procida was the sumptuous La Suite Hotel and Spa. Its contemporary design could comfortably grace the pages of a high-class interiors magazine, with stylish oversized lanterns and Buddha statue heads adding a magical feel to the tranquil private gardens, especially at night.

The pool, too, is something else, with its sleek black floor, surrounded by smart loungers and parasols.

The aim of this 15-room boutique hotel is serious relaxation. You can switch off with a good book or magazine on one of the giant day beds or hanging basket chairs dotted around the grounds or your own private patio, in one of the more expensive rooms.

The hotel also has an adjoining spa offering beauty treatments and relaxation therapies, which you can use at an extra cost.

Our ‘standard’ room was stylishly-furnished with a generous spa-style shower, although we felt storage was a bit limited for a family with a suitcase full of youngster-clutter.

But its location couldn’t have been better. Each room is just a brief walk from the hotel’s pool, bar and restaurant.

Worth a mention is the hotel’s evening shuttle service to the island’s main tourist spots of Marina Corricella, Marina Chiaiolella and Marina Grande.

Procida is just a half-hour hydrofoil crossing from Naples. Arriving at the harbour Marina Grande you’ll have the lovely view of fishermen’s houses being reflected by the blue water.

A wonderful welcome to a truly charming destination.



STACEY BARNFIELD

ANEMA E CORE IN CAPRI, Capri centre.

On the most worldly way of the beautiful island of Capri, between prestigious boutiques and luxury hotels nearby the famous Piazzetta, there's a "small door" almost hidden ... is the entrance of the most popular and characteristic local of the nights in Capri, the "Anema e Core" Tavern.

This quirky bar is a must-see place, which opens around midnight every evening. Anema e Core is always buzzing with famous people and international stars in the summer.

One of the great pulls of this restaurant is the friendly owner, who plays his guitar together with the band. His quick-wit often leaves superstars on the spot with his customised funny songs, which he makes up and then sings to the VIPs attending the evening. The audience always joins in and often the VIPs sing into the microphone with him and his band.

 www.anemaecore.com


Angela Zurlo

July 5 marks an important day, as one of the greatest figures in football docked in Naples and sparked a real revolution.

The summer of 1984 was a strange one in Serie A.

Lengthy deliberations ended fruitlessly, meaning that clubs went into the close-season believing that it would be their last opportunity to buy players from foreign leagues for three years.

Accordingly, there was something of a mixture between inspiration and desperation in the straineri(foreigners) brought in over the summer of 1984.

Hellas Verona signed Hans-Peter Briegel and Preben Elkjaer, who were inspirational enough to take the Gialloblu to the Scudetto. Fiorentina added to their South American contingent and recruited Socrates. Atalanta looked north and brought in Glenn Stromberg, who was a success and Lars Larsson, who wasn’t. AC Milan signed Mark Hateley and Ray Wilkins.

Amidst all the transfers, there was one player who stood head and shoulders above the rest.

On July 5 1984, 31 years ago this weekend, Diego Maradona moved to Napoli.

Naples during the 1980s was, just as it is now, an unforgiving city.

Despite 150 years of unification in Italy, there was, and remains, a difference between Naples and the rest of the peninsula. It can be explained in simple terms by wealth.

The north, Turin and Milan in particular, are richer than the south. Hundreds of thousands of southern Italians have migrated north seeking the jobs, and the money, that are available.

It has left a mark on those left behind, and a resilience, too. The same is true of football, as Inter, AC Milan and especially Juventus, were the northern powerhouses who crushed Napoli season in and season out.

Even today, Naples is different, apart.

When there is territorial discrimination called into question at Serie A games, it invariably involves Napoli. It leads to a culture of both pride and resolution — two things that Maradona had in spades.

It took him a little while to settle, but when he did, the combination of Maradona and Napoli was as explosive and memorable of any player at any club. From the very beginning, when 70,000 turned out at the Stadio San Paolo to greet his arrival, it was clear something was afoot.

The initial challenge was to overcome the dominance of Juventus, where Frenchman Michel Platini stood astride not just the midfield, but the whole of Serie A. It took a while for Maradona to reach that level, as his first season stalled somewhat.

Napoli languished throughout the end of 1984, entering the new year only just outside the relegation zone. As the new calendars arrived, though, everything seemed to fall into place. From January 6 onwards, Rino Marchesi’s side lost just one game (W D7 L1), enough to climb the table to an eighth place finish.

Once he had established himself in Serie A however, Maradona took off like a train.

The next campaign saw Napoli lose just once in their first 15 games, as the Argentine grabbed Serie A by the throat. He had determination and intention that was well appreciated on the terraces as the side surged to success.

Instead of Naples kowtowing to the likes of Juventus, Maradona’s presence at the Stadio San Paolo ensured the opposite was true. A famous mural appeared on a Neapolitan wall depicting the changing of the guard between the two clubs and, more pointedly, their star players.

In it, Platini, representing the Bianconeri, is on his knees desperately clutching a Scudetto while a heroic and dominant Maradona stands alongside ready to claim the crown. Wrought, perhaps overwrought, with symbolism, that is how it must have felt to be a Napoli fan in the late 1980s.

The best player in the world was turning out in sky blue week in and week out and trophies, the likes of which had been so hard to come by in the decades before, were raining in on Napoli.

Maradona had put the club and the city on the map. Two Scudetti, a UEFA Cup and a Coppa Italia all found their way into the trophy cabinet in short succession.

The team of Maradona, Careca, Ciro Ferrara and Gianfranco Zola was good enough to keep all-comers at bay for a handful of seasons and ensure that wherever the political and financial power may have been in Italy, the glory stayed at the Stadio San Paolo.

Yet as Maradona’s prowess began to falter after the 1990 World Cup, so did his stranglehold on Naples, and so did Napoli’s stranglehold on Serie A. Never again since have they been able to recreate the days of Maradona, which is perhaps why he is still held in such affection in the city.

Maradona not only opened the window to what was possible, but also thumbed his nose at his so-called superiors while he did it.

Diego Maradona was, and is, a hero to a city of outsiders; someone who demonstrated that it was possible for them to achieve, even if the odds were stacked against them. He was not just Napoli, he was Naples, and he is still revered for it.


Marco Jackson