The cultural tourist in Milan
Milanese art and architecture - and a visit to the opera
Milan is a city with an immense past. Roman Mediolanum, capital of the Western Empire and home of the great Archbishop Saint Ambrose; Renaissance capital of the Visconti and Sforza tyrants; capital of Napoleon's Cisalpine Republic, and later of the first Italian Republic and Kingdom of Italy; home of Verdi's operas, modern industrial city, home of Italy's main Stock Market, and capital of the wealthy region of Lombardy.
Milan at first glance feels very modern. But if you happen to pass the Porta Nuova, for example, you'll see just how old the place is. The gateway, in the medieval city walls, dates from 1156. Pretty old. But you step back again in time when you see the Roman tombstones set into the gate – already a millennium old when the gate was built. Little things like this show you the true age of the place.
Packing all of that into a single visit is next to impossible. But we can try!
Let's start with La Scala - Italy's premier opera house. The opening of the season is still a major event for Milanese high society. This is where Verdi premiered many of his operas. It's also a house with a merciless audience – tenors have been booed off stage here for missing a top C. And if you think Italian railways and airports have a bad industrial relations record, you should take a look at the number of strikes by stagehands, orchestras and other personnel at La Scala. (Thank goodness the orchestra hasn't yet discovered the go-slow!)
Most of the productions, at least the ones I've seen, have been rather high on spectacle and low on dramatic veracity. The singing, though, is always excellent. Definitely worth getting a ticket if you can; there are a few cheap tickets sold on the day, though if the queueing system is the same as it was last time I was there, it's rather Byzantine and you may need to speak Italian (or co-opt an Italian helper) to work out what to do.
The theatre is a neoclassical work – it was gutted in 1843 but rebuilt. But what's really interesting, if you like music, is the theatrical museum, which was refurbished in 2004.
As well as Verdi's piano, it includes some fine early instruments – a lovely 17th century spinet is worth seeing – and exhibits on the history of the Commedia dell'Arte, with some lovely porcelain figures of actors and musicians. And there are portraits of great bel canto singers, composers, and actors, too. But the highlight for me is the room dedicated to set designs. You can go right the way back to the seventeenth century and see what an opera would have looked like then – and you can see some of the dice and other games that early audiences would have played during the opera. Audiences were by no means as well behaved in those days, and any conductor who, like Riccardo Muti (former musical director here), tried telling an audience not to applaud between movements of a symphony would have been booed out of the house.
Nearby is the Museo Poldi-Pezzoli, a really charming little art museum with extensive 'craft' collections, somewhat along the lines of the V&A in London. It has a fine collection of lace, some marvellous jewellery, porcelain including Capodimonte, and fine Murano glass. You'll also see paintings and sculptures by Bernini, Perugino, Guardi, Canaletto, Mantegna, Bellini, Botticelli, and Pollaiuolo – whose portrait of a lady is the logo of the museum. The ticket admits you to the La Scala theatre museum as well. If I only had time for one art museum in Milan, I think this would be the one – you'll see greater works elsewhere but overall, this has the best ambience and the most interesting exhibits besides paintings.
Now for Milan cathedral – very much the most interesting single building in Milan. It occupies the prime site in the city – the place where the basilica (main government building) would have stood in the Roman forum of ancient Mediolanum. It's a fairytale Gothic cathedral, with pinnacles that seem to have been made out of lace or filigree rather than stone. But in fact, what you see today is only partly 'the real thing' – the facade wasn't completed until the nineteenth century.
Gian Galeazzo Visconti, tyrant of Milan, started the building and gave the cathedral its own marble quarry, at Candoglia. As far as I can find out, the cathedral foundation still owns the quarry today. The Gothic style was very much a French style – and a French architect, Nicolas de Bonaventure, was imported to work on the 'rayonnant' Gothic apse in 1386. Look at the tracery in the windows and you'll see why it's called rayonnant, or 'radiating'; every one is based on radiating segments within a circle. But after a quick start, the construction got bogged down; the cupola wasn't completed until 1500 and the cathedral wasn't actually consecrated until 1577. This is one of the largest Gothic churches, with five aisles, and it's the highest apart from the incomplete church at Beauvais. (The reason Beauvais was never finished was that the vaults and central tower collapsed – probably an indication that Milan is as high as you can get and still stay up!)
Until 1682, the cathedral still had the facade of the earlier church of Santa Maria Maggiore, the rest of which had been demolished. And even when Napoleon entered Milan, in 1805, the facade hadn't been finished. Napoleon ordered the completion of the church – and it's to him that we owe the fact that the cathedral has a Gothic facade, not a Renaissance style facade as would probably have been the case if it had been completed earlier.
There are, I think, two things you really must make time for. First, take the lift (or stairs) to the roof and wander among the openwork pinnacles. There's no experience quite like it.
And secondly, find the Trivulzio candlestick, probably by Nicolas of Verdun, another French Gothic artist. The base of this candlestick was made some time between the 1150s and 1200, and it's a truly marvellous work of the early Gothic. (He also made the shrine of the Three Kings in Cologne Cathedral.) There are vine scrolls, little men and animals hiding or tracking each other down in the foliage; everything is intricately sculpted. The top of the candlestick, on the other hand, dates from the Renaissance.
If you liked the Trivulzio candlestick, and have an interest in Romanesque art, you might also want to find the tomb of archbishop Aribert, who died in 1045. Above it is a metal crucifix of the same date – a century and a half before Nicolas of Verdun.
Now for the art history sight of Milan – Leonardo's Last Supper. If you're reading this because you're in Milan right now, or you're going this weekend, I have to disappoint you; admission is by timed ticket, with a limited number of visitors every day, so you need to try to get one as soon as possible. They do sell out, quite often. (One way round this might be to get one of the guided tours that take you to see it. Ask at your hotel about this possibility if you can't get a ticket for the day you want.)
Whether or not you're going to see the Last Supper, Santa Maria delle Grazie is a church worth visiting. When the Sforzas took over from the Viscontis as rulers of Milan in 1447, they continued the Visconti tradition of artistic patronage. This church was commissioned by Francesco I Sforza and later extended by his son Lodovico Sforza; it's a rich mix of Gothic and Renaissance style with delightful exterior decoration and a fine use of brick, a typical Milanese building material. Look at the fine apse and what you see is typically Lombard – lots of contrast and interest, almost garish display. It's quite different from the more sober Florentine Renaissance style.
Santa Maria delle Grazie wasn't just a church, it was a fully functioning monastery within the town. And the Last Supper was commissioned, also by Lodovico Sforza, not for the church but for the refectory where the monks were going to eat – a highly appropriate subject for this room, and a traditional choice.
If you stand back and look at the overall plan of the painting you can see how it is planned around a strict geometry. Jesus' head is at the vanishing point of all the perspective lines, and all the angles and lighting are planned to point to him. Jesus is the still point, and the different moments referred to in the Gospel narrative occur around him. (You can see, too, how his body makes almost a perfect pyramid, seen full frontal and symmetrical, and he is looking at us, while all the apostles are seen in varying degrees of profile, and are twisting, moving, relating to each other.)
You can also see how the painting is based on groupings of three. There are three windows behind Jesus, and the apostles are also grouped in threes. There's definitely a reference to the Trinity here, but it also enhances that feeling of geometrical perfection.
Of course this is the painting as restored, which was seen for the first time in 1999. Leonardo chose to paint this subject on a dry wall, rather than using the more common 'fresco' technique of painting on wet plaster. It was already starting to flake in 1517, just twenty years or so after its creation, and in the nineteenth century it was very damaged. (When she was asked to comment on famed but ageing soprano Giuditta Pasta's voice, the singer Pauline Viardot tactfully said it was 'a ruin...but so is Leonardo's Last Supper.')
Before you go, look for the figures of Lodovico and his wife, Beatrice d'Este, on the opposite wall. Although the rest of the painting on this wall is earlier, these two portraits were added by Leonardo himself.
The Castello Sforzesco is the stronghold that Francesco Sforza began in the 1450s to cement his hold on the city. It's quite an impressive castle – more impressive in a military than in a romantic sense. But it's worth visiting for the intriguing exhibits inside. There is a museum of musical instruments, an art museum, and an archaeological museum. There's the Pinacoteca, with a superb collection of North Italian masterpieces. And here you can see the Rondanini Pieta, Michelangelo's last, unfinished work. I find it a startlingly modern and rather enigmatic piece, with its attenuated figures and strange curves.
On to something completely different, the church of Sant'Ambrogio, which dates from 379. It was rebuilt in Romanesque style in 1099, and the great atrium was added in 1150. The atrium was where catechumens – those not yet confirmed in the church – would have stayed during the celebration of the mass.
The facade, with its two great tiers of arches, is immensely impressive. The pyramidal gable is also quite typical of Lombardy – there's no distinction between the nave and aisles, it's just a single huge cliff.
Inside, the church is a typical Romanesque basilica, with round-arched arcades marking off the aisles, and a semicircular apse at the east end. But it's the spectacular furnishings that make it special – the thirteenth century apse mosaic of Christ the Pantocrator, the ninth century bronze doors, the pulpit from about 1000, and the great ciborium over the altar, thirteen century work. Under the pulpit is the oldest work of art in the church – the 'Tomb of Stilicho', a sarcophagus carved during St Ambrose's lifetime, around 385. Saint Ambrose's marble throne stands in the apse, and the altar is encased in gold, the work commissioned by archbishop Angilberto II in 835. It's an amazing view into the middle ages and the incredible wealth of the Catholic Church at the time – yet nothing seems luxurious or overdone in this huge, bare brick church.
If you're not sick of art yet, the Pinacoteca di Brera, housed in a fine seventeenth century palace, is worth visiting. This gallery has a fine collectino of north Italian painting – particularly the Venetians; Veronese, Tintoretto, Carpaccio and Titian. But one of my favourites is Thomas Lawrence's thoughtful portrait of the sculptor Canova (Room 37); another is a work by a rare female artist of the sixteenth century, Sofonisba Anguiscuiola (Room 18). On the whole, though, I'd probably skip the Brera in favour of the other two art museums if I were short of time – the Brera is the top art museum, but somehow I find it rather daunting and hard work, particularly compared to the Poldi-Pezzoli.
A couple more churches round out our tour. Sant'Eustorgio is, like Sant'Ambrogio, a fine Lombard basilica – a ninth century church rebuilt in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries - but the Renaissance chapels on the south side give it an added interest. The Capella Portinari, designed by Michelozzo, has a lovely dome with angels, and frescoes showing the life of St Peter Martyr. The saint himself is buried here, in a fine tomb supported by eight Virtues, the work of Giovanni di Balduccio.
The sight I find the most powerful in this church, though, is the huge Roman sarcophagi which held the remains of the Three Kings until they were transferred to Cologne in 1164.
San Lorenzo is, I think, the strangest church in Milan. It's also the oldest, founded in 370. With its centralised, octagonal plan, dome and four towers, it's like a rather odd copy of Haghia Sophia. Attached to it is the smaller, also octagonal, chapel of Sant'Aquilino. Inside, it's a mix of original early work and sixteenth century restoration – the dome is modern, after two earlier domes collapsed. (That, as it happens, is something else the church has in common with Haghia Sophia, where the original dome collapsed within just a few years of the opening.) The main church is rather bare, but the chapel - probably originally intended to be an Imperial mausoleum – has fine fourth century Byzantine mosaics. A beardless, youthful Christ is shown wearing white robes, and the disciples seem to be wearing the senatorial toga of classical Rome with its broad purple stripe. This may have been a Christian Rome, but it was still the Empire – just.
Milan itself has more than enough cultural interest to fill a week, but if you really want to make the most of your trip there's one more place to visit – the Certosa di Pavia, a Carthusian monastery just outside the city. (Trains take about 30 minutes to the Certosa di Pavia station – though fast trains go straight through to Pavia itself; but don't visit on a Monday – it's closed.)
This monastery was founded by Gian Galeazzo Visconti in 1396, and was intended to provide a burial place for the Visconti family as well as a monastery. The Campionese masons he employed for this job were the same as those who began the work on the cathedral – but work here was finished much more quickly. The monastery was complete by 1447 and work on the church continued under the Sforzas, to be completed in 1499. However, as with the cathedral, the facade was the last part of the work to be completed – it's sixteenth century Renaissance work.
The facade is the glory of the Certosa so give yourself enough time to appreciate it. It was begun by Guiniforte Solari, the same architect who worked on Santa Maria delle Grazie, in 1473, and the ground floor is real Renaissance style. The top part, though, was completed later, by Cristoforo and Antonio Mantegazza, Giovanni Antonio Amedeo, and others. This may be Renaissance work but no one who's familiar with the Florentine Renaissance would recognise it – the classical forms are very differently used, and in contrast with Florentine restraint, the builders of Lombardy pile ornament on top of ornament. Polychrome marble is used to introduce coloured accents; the decoration includes medallions of Roman emperors, as well as statues of prophets, apostles and saints. It's incredibly rich and very powerful – a real advertisement for the house of Sforza.
I've always wondered whether the confidence and brashness of Lombard Renaissance work is due at least partly to the fact that Lombardy was ruled by tyrants – dukes with absolute power. Florence, on the other hand, was technically a republic, and Cosimo de Medici and his immediate successors had to take care to be seen only as 'first citizens' – not flaunting their wealth, but rather asserting their taste.
Inside the Certosa are the fine tombs of Lodovico Sforza and Beatrice d'Este by Cristoforo Solari, dating from 1499. They were originally in Santa Maria delle Grazie, but were brought here in 1564. Gian Galeazzo Visconti's tomb is also here, in a monument which shows scenes of his life, and the doorway to the sacristy shows medallion portraits of the Dukes of Milan. All the furniture, too – the carved and inlaid choir stalls – are of the same date; this is a perfect church of its time, just as Lodovico intended it to be.
I'm going to finish with a slightly different kind of attraction – the right places to go windowshopping, barhopping, peoplewatching and wandering. If you love steampunk or have an affection for the grandiose, head straight to the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, near the cathedral, a massive cast iron and glass construction built in the 1860s. Here you'll find luxury goods shops, restaurants, and bars. And you'll see the Milanese dressed to the nines – even the four-year-olds wear fur coats in winter!
Or if modern trendy is more your scene, head south to the neighbourhood of the Navigli canals and the Darsena basin. Here, old working class neighbourhoods of brightly coloured houses have been revived recently. There's an antiques market on the last Sunday of the month (except July), there are cafes, bars and restaurants. And the lock gates were designed by Leonardo da Vinci. What more could you want?
Picture credits: Milan cathedral by Stephen_AU, Castello Sforzesco by Fedewild, Sant'Ambrogio by Greta Lorenz, and Certosa di Pavia by Rudy Ferrari, all on flickr.