Dear Readers, after a 4 a.m. start we caught our plane to Bologna, and were treated to some stunning views as we flew over the Italian Alps. There have been times this year when I wondered when I’d be fit enough to travel again, so I must confess to having a tear in my eye as I looked out of the window to see the view below. What a stunningly beautiful world we live in! And maybe next year my leg will be healed enough for me to walk in those mountains (or at least the Austrian equivalent).

This is a group tour with Sally Dormer, who runs courses for the V&A and is an expert in the field of Late Antiquity. As is often the case on these historical/cultural tours, our fellow travellers are a really interesting bunch, and I anticipate a lot more conversations along the lines of ‘so, who is your favourite 19th century author?’

But we’re really here to see what the Romans/Goths/Byzantines got up to here in Ravenna, which used to be an important port until everything silted up. First stop is Sant’Apollinare in Classe, consecrated in 549 AD. Like most churches in Ravenna, it’s brick built (lots of clay soil to remind me of home). And some pigeons and magpies. And just look how the brick glows in the setting sun.

But the name of this tour is ‘Mosaics and Marbles’, and so the first thing that we see inside the church is this…

What a sensational mosaic this is. It shows Saint Apollinaire with twelve sheep, representing the faithful or the twelve apostles. This is a depiction of paradise, with trees and flowers and little grassy mounds. I’d like to think of them as anthills – surely there’s space for hard-working ants in paradise?

What’s interesting to me is that this is a very early stage in Christianity, and the Ostrogoths, who ruled Ravenna at the time, were still defining the symbolism of their faith. There is a looseness and creativity to the mosaics here which I find very appealing – for all their sophistication there’s something rather cartoon-like and appealing about them. For example, the cross in the centre of the apse has Christ’s face right in the middle of it (here, the bearded Christ that we usually imagine as being typical, rather than the young, beardless Christ of other depictions), and a wonderful ‘right hand of God’ gesturing down to it.

It’s hard to imagine how magical the mosaic must have looked by candlelight, with the gold twinkling.

There are mysteries here too. When mosaics are created, they are first ‘drawn’ onto plaster to create something called a sinopia. In this mosaic, where the sheep are now was originally a motif of birds and fountains.

Sinopia (under drawing) of the mosaic at Sant Apollinaire in Classe

One theory for why the pretty birds and flowers were replaced with sheep is because, just at the time that the mosaic was being finalised, Ravenna got its first Archbishop Maximian, who maybe wanted to emphasis his role as head of the church, surrounded by his ‘flock’. It’s only a guess, but these churches were often as much about politics and power as they were about religion.

And I would be remiss if i didn’t mention these ladies outside the church,

Female Mediterranean Water Buffalos by David Rivalta

These statues were so realistic that when we approached the church I honestly thought they were real, and got very excited. Rivalta specialises in life-sized animal sculptures, and seems to have a gift for placing them in unexpected places – apparently in Ravenna there are gorillas in the courthouse and a rhino at the Port Authority. I shall have to keep my eyes peeled. There is another example of his work below. One to watch, I think.

Lion by David Rivalta in the National Gallery in 2019 Photo Di Ettore Rivalta – Opera propria, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=138131171

And just a quick leg update – it seems to be holding up well so far – I am taking paracetamol and ibuprofen when I need it, but I think the antics of the Ostrogoths and the Byzantines are distracting me quite well. Fingers crossed for the rest of the holiday!