The Duomo sits atop Siena’s highest point, with one of the most extravagant facades in all of Europe. This ornate but surprisingly secular shrine to the Virgin Mary is stacked with colorful art inside and out, from inlaid-marble floors to stained-glass windows. Along with sculptures by Bernini and Michelangelo, the church features the Piccolomini Library, where a series of captivating frescoes by the Umbrian painter Pinturicchio tells the story of Aeneas Piccolomini, Siena’s consummate Renaissance Man, who became Pope Pius II.
(See “Siena” map, here.)
Cost: €4 includes cathedral and Piccolomini Library, buy ticket at Duomo Museum entrance (facing the cathedral entry, the museum is 100 yards to the right, near the south transept). To add the Duomo Museum, Crypt, and Baptistery, consider the €12 Opa Si combo-ticket.
Check the line to get into the Duomo before buying tickets—if there’s a long wait, you can pay an extra €1 for a (misnamed) “reservation” that lets you skip the line (not possible to book in advance—just buy it on the spot).
Hours: March-Oct Mon-Sat 10:30-19:00, Sun 13:30-18:00; Nov-Feb Mon-Sat 10:30-17:30, Sun 13:30-17:30; last entry 30 minutes before closing.
Dress Code: Modest dress is required, but stylish paper ponchos are provided for the inappropriately clothed.
Getting There: Just look up and head for the black-and-white-striped tower.
Information: Tel. 0577-286-300, www.operaduomo.siena.it. Inside the Duomo are €2 video terminals that give a history of the cathedral floor.
Tours: The new Porta del Cielo (“Heaven’s Gate”) guided tour is popular, but English tours are few and you’ll have to book well in advance. The tour lasts 1.5 hours, starting with a 45-minute visit to the dome’s cupola and roof for spectacular interior and exterior views. You’ll climb 79 steps to see the recently restored rooms near the top of the church (with impressive inlaid floors) and get a close-up look at the cupola, with its blue, star-decorated panels and 12 windows (representing the 12 apostles) by Ulisse De Matteis. You’ll also walk briefly outside on the rooftop for a breathtaking view (not for those with a fear of heights). The second half of the tour takes you through the rest of the cathedral (which you could skip out on—particularly if you end up taking an Italian tour, though no discount is given).
You need to book a tour at least 48 hours in advance, but to try for a tour in English (offered only Mon-Thu at 12:45), book as soon as you know when you’ll be in Siena. When you reserve, you’ll be given a reference number, which you must show on arrival at the ticket office; payment is by wire 10 days before the reserved tour (€25, tours run April-Oct; to book, call 0577-286-300 Mon-Fri 9:00-17:00). Given the tour’s popularity, maybe more English tours will be added—or maybe not (check www.operaduomo.siena.it, opasiena@operalaboratori.com).
The videoguide (rent in the nave) is informative but extremely dry. I’d stick with the commentary in this chapter (for Duomo only: €6, €10/2 people; for Duomo plus Duomo Museum, Crypt, and Baptistery: €8, €14/2 people).
Length of This Tour: Allow one hour.
Photography: No flash permitted.
Nearby Eateries: For restaurants near the Duomo, see here.
(See “Siena’s Duomo” map, here.)
Grab a spot on a stone bench opposite the entry to take in this architectural festival of green, white, pink, and gold. Like a medieval altarpiece, the facade is divided into sections, each frame filled with patriarchs and prophets, studded with roaring gargoyles, and topped with prickly pinnacles. Imagine pilgrims arriving at this church, its facade trumpeting the coming of Christ and the true path to salvation.
The current structure dates back to 1215, with the major decoration done during Siena’s heyday (1250-1350). The lower story, by Giovanni Pisano (who worked from 1284 to 1297), features remnants of the fading Romanesque style (round arches over the doors), topped with the pointed arches of the new Gothic style that was seeping in from France. The upper half, in full-blown Gothic, was designed and built a century later.
The six-story bell tower (c. 1315) looks even taller, thanks to an optical illusion: The white marble stripes get narrower toward the top, making the upper part seem farther away.
On columns flanking the entrance are statues of the Roman she-wolf suckling Romulus and Remus, the mythical founders of Rome. Legend has it that Remus’ son Senio (“Siena”) rode north on a black horse to found the city of Siena.
• Step inside, putting yourself in the mindset of a pilgrim as you take in this trove of religious art. (With a maximum capacity of 700 visitors, you may have to wait—the current number is indicated on a computer screen at the turnstile. Remember, if the line is dreadfully long, you can pay €1 for a “reservation” at the ticket desk to skip the line.)
The heads of 172 popes—who reigned from Peter to the 12th century—peer down from above, looking over the fine inlaid art on the floor. With a forest of striped columns, a coffered dome, a large stained-glass window at the far end (it’s a copy—the original is viewable up close in the Duomo Museum), and an art gallery’s worth of early Renaissance art, this is one busy interior. If you look closely at the popes, you’ll see the same four faces repeated over and over.
For almost two centuries (1373-1547), 40 artists paved the marble floor with scenes from the Old Testament, allegories, and intricate patterns.
The series starts near the entrance with historical allegories; the larger, more elaborate scenes surrounding the altar are mostly stories from the Old Testament. Many of the floor panels are roped off—and occasionally even covered—to prevent further wear and tear.
• On the floor, find the second pavement panel from the entrance.
Depicted as a she-wolf, the proud city of Siena is the center of the Italian universe, orbited by such lesser lights as Roma, Florentia (Florence), and Pisa. This is pretty secular stuff for such prime church real estate. Five yards to the left and right are panels with pre-Christian imagery—the ancient Greek prophetesses known as the sibyls. This church’s mix of pre-Christian wisdom, secular humanism, and Christian piety gives an insight into the Sienese approach to religion.
• The fifth pavement panel from the entrance is the...
Lady Luck (lower right) parachutes down to earth, where she teeters back and forth on a ball and a tipsy boat. The lesson? Fortune is an unstable foundation for life. Truth seekers wind their way up the precarious path to the top, where Socrates accompanies Lady Wisdom. Having attained wisdom, the world’s richest man (“Crates,” upper right) realizes that money doesn’t buy happiness, and he dumps his jewels out. They fall to earth, and the cycle of Fortune begins again.
On the right wall hangs a dim painting of St. Catherine (fourth from entrance). Siena’s homegrown saint (see here) had a vision in which she mystically married Christ. Here’s the wedding ceremony in heaven. Jesus places the ring on Catherine’s finger as her future mother-in-law, Mary, looks on.
• On the opposite wall is a marble altarpiece decorated with statues (next to a doorway leading to a shop, snacks, and WC).
The Piccolomini Altar was designed for the tomb of the Sienese-born Pope Pius III (born Francesco Todeschini Piccolomini). It was commissioned when he was the cardinal of Siena, but because he later became a pope (see the fresco of his coronation with Pius wearing the golden robe—above and to the right of the Michelangelo statue), he was buried in the Vatican and this fancy tomb was never used. It’s most interesting for its statues: one by Michelangelo and three by his students. Michelangelo was originally contracted to do 15 statues, but another sculptor had started the marble blocks, and Michelangelo’s heart was never in the project. He personally finished only the figure of St. Paul (lower right, clearly more interesting than the bland, bored popes above him).
Paul has the look of Michelangelo’s Moses, the broken-nosed self-portrait of the sculptor himself, and the relaxed hand of his David. It was the chance to sculpt David in Florence that convinced Michelangelo to abandon the Siena project.
• Now grab a seat to study the...
The dome sits on a 12-sided base, but its “coffered” ceiling is actually a painted illusion.
Get oriented to the array of sights by thinking of the church floor as a big 12-hour clock. You’re the middle, and the altar is high noon: You’ll find the Slaughter of the Innocents roped off on the floor at 10 o’clock, Pisano’s pulpit between two pillars at 11 o’clock, a copy of Duccio’s round stained-glass window at 12 o’clock, Bernini’s chapel at 3 o’clock, the Piccolomini Altar at 7 o’clock, the Piccolomini Library at 8 o’clock, and a Donatello statue at 9 o’clock.
Attached to columns (easy to miss, at 7 o’clock and 5 o’clock) are two 65-foot wooden poles that are dear to any Sienese heart. These were the flagpoles, bearing the Florentine flag, captured during the pivotal Battle of Montaperti (1260, fought near Siena), when 20,000 Sienese squared off against 35,000 soldiers from their archrival city, Florence. The two armies battled back and forth all day, until one of the Florentine soldiers—actually, a Sienese spy under cover—attacked the Florentine standard-bearer from behind. Florence’s flag fell to the ground, the army lost its bearings and confidence, and Siena seized the moment to counterattack and win. It was the city’s finest hour, ushering in its 80-year Golden Age.
The church was intended to be much larger. Look into the right transept and mentally blow a hole in the wall. You’d be looking down the nave of the massive extension of the church—that is, if the original grandiose plan had been completed (see sidebar, here).
The octagonal Carrara marble pulpit (1268) rests on the backs of lions, symbols of Christianity triumphant. Like the lions, the Church eats its catch (devouring paganism) and nurses its cubs. The seven relief panels tell the life of Christ in rich detail. The pulpit is the work of Nicola Pisano (c. 1220-1278), the “Giotto of sculpture,” whose revival of classical forms (columns, sarcophagus-like relief panels) signaled the coming Renaissance. His son Giovanni (c. 1240-1319) carved many of the panels, mixing his dad’s classicism and realism with the decorative detail and curvy lines of French Gothic—a style that would influence Donatello and the other Florentines.
The Crucifixion panel (facing the nave under the eagle) is proto-Renaissance. Christ’s anatomy is realistic. Mary (bottom left) swoons into the arms of the other women, a very human outburst of emotion. And a Roman soldier (to the right, by Giovanni) turns to look back with an easy motion that breaks the stiff, frontal Gothic mold.
Look at the two panels facing the altar. It’s Judgment Day, and Christ is flanked by the saved (on his right, almost hypnotized by the presence of their savior) and, on his left, the desperate damned.
If you visit Pisa, you’ll see two similar Pisano pulpits there. (See here and here for more on the Pisanos and their pulpits.)
This is a copy of the original window, which was moved to the Duomo Museum a couple of years ago. The famous rose window was created in 1288 and dedicated to the Virgin Mary (read the complete description on here).
• As you face the window, in the floor to the left (in the transept) is the...
Herod (left), sitting enthroned amid Renaissance arches, orders the massacre of all babies to prevent the coming of the promised Messiah. It’s a chaotic scene of angry soldiers, grieving mothers, and dead babies, reminding locals that a republic ruled by a tyrant will always experience misery.
The work was designed by the Sienese Matteo di Giovanni (late 1400s) and inlaid with a colorful array of marble, including yellow marble, a Sienese specialty quarried nearby.
• Step into the chapel just beyond the pavement panel (next to the Piccolomini Library) to see...
The rugged saint in his famous rags stands in a quiet chapel. Donatello, the aging Florentine sculptor, whose style was now considered passé in Florence, came here to build bronze doors for the church (similar to Ghiberti’s in Florence). He didn’t complete the door project, but he did finish this bronze statue (1457). Notice the cherubs high above it, playfully dangling their feet.
• Cross beneath the dome to find the Chigi Chapel, also known as the...
To understand why Bernini is considered the greatest Baroque sculptor, step into this sumptuous chapel (designed in the early 1660s for Fabio Chigi, a.k.a. Pope Alexander VII). Move up to the altar and look back at the two Bernini statues: Mary Magdalene in a state of spiritual ecstasy and St. Jerome playing the crucifix like a violinist lost in beautiful music. It’s enough to make even a Lutheran light a candle.
The chapel is classic Baroque, combining colored marble, statues, stained glass, a dome, and golden angels holding an icon-like framed painting, creating a multimedia extravaganza that offers a glimpse of heaven.
That painting over the altar is the Madonna del Voto, a Madonna and Child adorned with a real crown of gold and jewels (painted by an unknown Italian master in the mid-13th century). In typical medieval fashion, the scene is set in the golden light of heaven. Mary has the almond eyes, long fingers, and golden folds in her robe that are found in orthodox icons of the time. Still, this Mary tilts her head and looks out sympathetically, ready to listen to the prayers of the faithful. This is the Mary to whom the Palio is dedicated, dear to the hearts of the Sienese.
For untold generations, the Sienese have prayed to the Madonna del Voto for help. In thanks, they give offerings of silver hearts and medallions, many of which hang now on the wall just to the left as you exit the chapel. On the other side of the chapel door is a glass display case that looks like a jewelry store’s front window—with rings, necklaces, and other precious items given by thankful worshippers. Want to leave an offering yourself? Light a candle for a €0.50 donation.
• Cross back to the other side of the church and head toward the main door. On the right, just before the big Piccolomini Altar we saw earlier, look for the door to the...
If crowds slow your way into this library, spend your waiting time reading ahead. Brilliantly frescoed, the library captures the exuberant, optimistic spirit of the 1400s, when humanism and the Renaissance were born. The never-restored frescoes look nearly as vivid now as the day they were finished 550 years ago. (With the bright window light, candles were unnecessary in this room—and didn’t sully the art with soot.) The painter Pinturicchio (c. 1454-1513) was hired to celebrate the life of one of Siena’s hometown boys—a man many call “the first humanist,” Aeneas Piccolomini (1405-1464), who became Pope Pius II. Each of the 10 scenes is framed with an arch, as if Pinturicchio were opening a window onto the spacious 3-D world we inhabit. Begin with the episode to the right of the window, and let your eyes follow the frescoes clockwise to trace their progression:
1. Leaving for Basel: Twenty-seven-year-old Aeneas, riding a white horse and decked out in an outrageous hat, pauses to take one last look back as he leaves Siena to charge off on the first of many adventures in his sometimes sunny, sometimes stormy life. Born poor but noble, he got all A’s in his classics classes in Siena. Now, having soaked up all the secular knowledge available, he leaves home to crash a church council in Switzerland, where he would take sides against the pope.
2. Meeting James II of Scotland: Aeneas (with long brown hair) charmed King James and the well-dressed, educated, worldly crowd of Europe’s courts. Among his many travels, he visited London (writing home about Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s), barely survived a storm at sea, negotiated peace between England and France, and fathered (at least) two illegitimate children.
3. Crowned Poet by Frederick III: Next we find Aeneas in Vienna, working as secretary to the German king. Aeneas kneels to ceremonially receive the laurel crown of a poet. Aeneas wrote love poetry, bawdy stories, and a play, and is best known for his candid autobiography. Everyone was talking about Aeneas—a writer, speaker, diplomat, and lover of the arts and pretty women, who was the very essence of the uomo universale, a.k.a. Renaissance Man.
4. Submitting to Pope Eugene IV: At age 40, after a serious illness, Aeneas changes his life. He journeys to Rome and kisses the pope’s foot, apologizing for his heretical opposition. He repents for his wild youth and becomes a priest. (In his autobiography, he says it was time to change anyway, as women no longer aroused him...and he no longer attracted them.)
5. Introducing Frederick III and Eleanora: Quickly named Bishop of Siena, Aeneas (in white pointed bishop’s hat) makes his hometown a romantic getaway for his friend Frederick and his fiancée. Notice the Duomo’s bell tower in the distance and the city walls (upper left). Aeneas always seemed to be present at Europe’s most important political, religious, and social events.
6. Made Cardinal: Kneeling before the pope, with shaved head and praying hands, Aeneas receives the flat red hat of a cardinal. In many of these panels, the artist Pinturicchio uses all the latest 3-D effects—floor tiles and carpets, distant landscapes, receding lines—to suck you into the scene. He tears down palace walls and lets us peek inside, into the day’s centers of power.
7. Made Pope: In 1458, at age 53, Aeneas is elected to be Pope Pius II. Carried in triumph, he blesses the crowd. One of his first acts as pope is to declare as heresy the anti-pope doctrines he championed in his youth. (Pius II fans can visit his birthplace in Pienza, described in the Tuscan Hill Towns chapter.)
8. Proclaims a Crusade: He calls on all of Europe to liberate the Christian city of Constantinople, which had recently fallen (in 1453) to the Ottoman Turks. Europe is reluctant to follow his call, but Aeneas pushes the measure through.
9. Canonizes St. Catherine: From his papal throne, Aeneas looks down on the mortal remains of Catherine (clutching her symbol, the lily) and proclaims his fellow Sienese a saint. The well-dressed candle-holders in the foreground pose proudly.
10. Arrival in Ancona: Old and sick, the pope has to be carried everywhere on a litter because of rheumatic feet. He travels to Ancona, ready to board a ship to go fight the Turks. But only a handful of Venetian galleys arrive at the appointed time, the crusade peters out, and Aeneas, disheartened, dies. He wrote: “I do not deny my past. I have been a great wanderer, wandering away from the right path. But at least I know it, and hope the knowledge has not come too late.”
Circle around a second time to appreciate the library’s intricately decorated, illuminated music scores and a statue (a Roman copy of a Greek original) of the Three Graces, who almost seem to dance to the beat. The oddly huge sheepskin sheets of music are from the days before individual hymnals—they had to be big so that many singers could read the music at the same time from a distance. If the musical notation looks off, that’s because 15th-century Italians used a sliding C clef, not the fixed C and G clefs musicians know today. This clef marked middle C, and the melodies could be chanted in relation to it. Appreciate the fine painted decorations on the music—the gold-leaf highlights, the blue tones from newly discovered (and quite expensive) cobalt, and the miniature figures. All of this exquisite detail was lovingly crafted by Benedictine monks for the glory of God. Find your favorite—I like the blue, totally wild god of wind with the big hair (in the fourth case).
• Exit the Duomo and make a U-turn to the left, walking alongside the church to Piazza Jacopo della Quercia.
The nave of the Duomo was supposed to be where the piazza is today. Worshippers would have entered the church from the far end of the piazza through the unfinished wall. (Look way up at the highest part of the wall. That’s the viewpoint accessible from inside the Duomo Museum.) Some of the nave’s green-and-white-striped columns were built, but are now filled in with a brick wall. White stones in the pavement mark where a row of pillars would have been. Look through the unfinished entrance facade, note blue sky where the stained-glass windows would have been, and ponder the struggles, triumphs, and failures of the human spirit.
