nice article.thx, cheryl.. i remember frances mayes writing of finding etruscan evidence at her old cortona villa. i also relate to your words re gravestone photos. i never met my grandparents or great grandparents and to be able to see their faces in little pictures is such a joy even if it is atop their graves. btw josh gates did an interesting piece on etruscan necropolises you might enjoy.
Getting to read this late but I loved it. Thanks, Cheryl. I keep finding things that we have in common, except the writing, of course. Which you do so well and I can't. We always visit the cemetery where my husband's parents are buried in Italy. The pictures that grace their headstones were taken, one my me and one by my husband. I have always been attracted to cemeteries and visit them where ever we travel. It is another way to understand and honor the place. We were in Venice this fall and went to Isola di San Michele. We found Stravinsky and Ezra Pound though not out of admiration for either. Another beautiful cemetery is the Recoleta in Buenos Aires. I agree that cemeteries are mostly testaments to love, but the saddest one I have seen yet are the two cemeteries in Normandy; one American, one German.
Love love love this article, and now I have MORE cemeteries to visit. John isn’t wild about cemeteries (he finds them unsettling), but I take great comfort among the dead. I will one day join them. Keats said it best: “Here lies one whose name was writ in water.”
When I was in Zagreb, Croatia during the war there, I went to the massive Mirogoj cemetery, which is far larger than the town I grew up in in northern Minnesota. What struck me was the contrast between the acreage of beautiful, old, and very ornate gravestones and sarcophagi that seem to go on forever...and the acres of brand new marble markers of those who'd died in the war. Most of those who'd been laid to rest were in the early- to mid-20s. I've always known war was a tremendous waste, but there it was, laid out before me in shiny marble. Thousands of young men who'd never raise a family, walk their daughters down the aisle, bounce their grandchildren on their knee. It was one of the saddest experiences I can remember.
I LOVE cemeteries - have my entire life. Have a book on the Milan cemetery, bought back in the early 90s. Everywhere I travel, I stop at cemeteries. For 30 years now, instructions after my death are to scatter my ashes in Mt. Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Mass, where Longfellow is buried. But when I move to Italy, I will change that. Pere Lachaise in Paris is also pretty spectacular.
Thank you for the history in this post. I didn't watch the full video in Viggiu's cemetery but have saved it for later.
I have no particular attachment to a cemetery for visiting deceased loved ones, but I so appreciate this custom. The picnics on grass, the benches, the photos that you mention... So many ways to "visit" and reconnect. In the end we all return to dust but yes, it's nice to know there is a place one can go to feel the presence of another.
Fascinating article, Cheryl. I have visited the Hope Cemetery in Vermont. A friend of mine (we walked the Camino de Santiago together about 8 years ago) took me there. Her grandfather was one of the original stone carvers who immigrated to the US from Italy. He also worked on granite statues for Washington DC monuments. Italy has sent the world the most magnificent artisans!
There is something about cemeteries, isn't there? I also like to walk through them, the older the better. And what you say is true. You can feel a kind of increased gravity in these spaces. It's one of those many things we can feel, but that we don't have the language or perspective to really know or describe. I like when I feel these things though. They hint at something . . . more.
What beautiful cemeteries. They truly are museums. The Etruscan tomb! Crazy. Its so fascinating to imagine pre-Roman societies. I've seen images of jewelry they've found from the Etruscans. Gold rings and necklaces. They are stunning. And to imagine some Etruscan woman wearing them in some flowing dress, surrounded by a pristine coastal landscape? It's an image almost too beautiful to bear.
These cemeteries, in a way, remind me of the ones I've visited in Mexico, where my father was born and where his family still lives. Of course, they are not as ornate or ancient, but they are filled with monumental grave sites. Tombs. Little houses. Shrines. And on Day of the Dead, places for celebration. I wish Americans had a different attitude towards death. In Mexico, they seem less afraid. Maybe in Italy, too.
Hello, Cheryl - I think Piccini was the family name of my friend's maternal grandfather. Her maiden name was Walsh and married name was Johnson. Unfortunately, we just always talked about her Italian grandparents but not much about their family name or specific Italian towns or region of birth. It is now difficult to reach my friend in Vermont anymore due to her age and health. However, if I am able to contact her, I will be sure to ask specifics and let you know.
It is sad that so many are parroting the propaganda uniformly put out by the media. "...has taken a step backward into the clutches of fascism.". Did you listen to her speech? About the sanctity of the individual? About the importance of family? Could you please, please weigh the evidence and think for yourself?
nice article.thx, cheryl.. i remember frances mayes writing of finding etruscan evidence at her old cortona villa. i also relate to your words re gravestone photos. i never met my grandparents or great grandparents and to be able to see their faces in little pictures is such a joy even if it is atop their graves. btw josh gates did an interesting piece on etruscan necropolises you might enjoy.
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt21953262/
I'm with you on the cemetery love. Thanks for bringing back some memories from our visit.
Cheryl, then you will love South Park cemetery in Kolkata (then Calcutta)!!! This was such a fascinating read, thank you!
Getting to read this late but I loved it. Thanks, Cheryl. I keep finding things that we have in common, except the writing, of course. Which you do so well and I can't. We always visit the cemetery where my husband's parents are buried in Italy. The pictures that grace their headstones were taken, one my me and one by my husband. I have always been attracted to cemeteries and visit them where ever we travel. It is another way to understand and honor the place. We were in Venice this fall and went to Isola di San Michele. We found Stravinsky and Ezra Pound though not out of admiration for either. Another beautiful cemetery is the Recoleta in Buenos Aires. I agree that cemeteries are mostly testaments to love, but the saddest one I have seen yet are the two cemeteries in Normandy; one American, one German.
Love love love this article, and now I have MORE cemeteries to visit. John isn’t wild about cemeteries (he finds them unsettling), but I take great comfort among the dead. I will one day join them. Keats said it best: “Here lies one whose name was writ in water.”
When I was in Zagreb, Croatia during the war there, I went to the massive Mirogoj cemetery, which is far larger than the town I grew up in in northern Minnesota. What struck me was the contrast between the acreage of beautiful, old, and very ornate gravestones and sarcophagi that seem to go on forever...and the acres of brand new marble markers of those who'd died in the war. Most of those who'd been laid to rest were in the early- to mid-20s. I've always known war was a tremendous waste, but there it was, laid out before me in shiny marble. Thousands of young men who'd never raise a family, walk their daughters down the aisle, bounce their grandchildren on their knee. It was one of the saddest experiences I can remember.
I LOVE cemeteries - have my entire life. Have a book on the Milan cemetery, bought back in the early 90s. Everywhere I travel, I stop at cemeteries. For 30 years now, instructions after my death are to scatter my ashes in Mt. Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Mass, where Longfellow is buried. But when I move to Italy, I will change that. Pere Lachaise in Paris is also pretty spectacular.
Thank you for the history in this post. I didn't watch the full video in Viggiu's cemetery but have saved it for later.
I have no particular attachment to a cemetery for visiting deceased loved ones, but I so appreciate this custom. The picnics on grass, the benches, the photos that you mention... So many ways to "visit" and reconnect. In the end we all return to dust but yes, it's nice to know there is a place one can go to feel the presence of another.
Fascinating article, Cheryl. I have visited the Hope Cemetery in Vermont. A friend of mine (we walked the Camino de Santiago together about 8 years ago) took me there. Her grandfather was one of the original stone carvers who immigrated to the US from Italy. He also worked on granite statues for Washington DC monuments. Italy has sent the world the most magnificent artisans!
There is something about cemeteries, isn't there? I also like to walk through them, the older the better. And what you say is true. You can feel a kind of increased gravity in these spaces. It's one of those many things we can feel, but that we don't have the language or perspective to really know or describe. I like when I feel these things though. They hint at something . . . more.
What beautiful cemeteries. They truly are museums. The Etruscan tomb! Crazy. Its so fascinating to imagine pre-Roman societies. I've seen images of jewelry they've found from the Etruscans. Gold rings and necklaces. They are stunning. And to imagine some Etruscan woman wearing them in some flowing dress, surrounded by a pristine coastal landscape? It's an image almost too beautiful to bear.
These cemeteries, in a way, remind me of the ones I've visited in Mexico, where my father was born and where his family still lives. Of course, they are not as ornate or ancient, but they are filled with monumental grave sites. Tombs. Little houses. Shrines. And on Day of the Dead, places for celebration. I wish Americans had a different attitude towards death. In Mexico, they seem less afraid. Maybe in Italy, too.
Hello, Cheryl - I think Piccini was the family name of my friend's maternal grandfather. Her maiden name was Walsh and married name was Johnson. Unfortunately, we just always talked about her Italian grandparents but not much about their family name or specific Italian towns or region of birth. It is now difficult to reach my friend in Vermont anymore due to her age and health. However, if I am able to contact her, I will be sure to ask specifics and let you know.
It is sad that so many are parroting the propaganda uniformly put out by the media. "...has taken a step backward into the clutches of fascism.". Did you listen to her speech? About the sanctity of the individual? About the importance of family? Could you please, please weigh the evidence and think for yourself?