MATERA is unique among Italian cities. The early medieval town was destroyed by the Saracens in 994, only to be re-occupied by the Byzantines. In 1064 Matera fell to the Normans and was incorporated in their kingdom. A period of sustained prosperity followed under Neapolitan rule. In 1663 the town became the capital of the province of Basilicata, a role it only lost in 1806 during the French occupation. Modern Matera is a bustling city, prosperous in a way that so many towns of the south are not. To the east is the extraordinary historic conurbation, built on and between two ridges, the Sasso Caveoso to the south and the Sasso Barisano to the north, and defended by the dramatic cliffs carved by the river Gravina.
The traveller from the north arrives in the Piazza Vittorio Veneto. To the left the Via San Biagio leads to San Giovanni Battista, an admirably austere Romanesque church of 1204, responsibly restored in 1926. The nave is unexpectedly high. Further on is the partly rock-cut San Pietro Barisano, another Norman foundation with a later façade. From the Sasso Barisano with its narrow streets there are tantalizing views over the town, its built façades masking houses largely excavated in the rock.
Return to the piazza and follow the central Via del Corso which leads to the Piazza San Francesco. In baroque San Francesco itself are panels from a polyptych by the Venetian master Bartolomeo Vivarini. Behind is the Via Duomo, which climbs past the substantial baroque Palazzo Bronzini-Padula to the splendid Duomo of 1268–70, raised on a terrace hanging over the heart of the town. The west front is admirably harmonious in its balance of pilasters, blind arcades and sculptural enrichments; and, unlike so many of its Apulian counterparts, the Duomo retains its subsequent decoration and additions, including the late Renaissance Cappella dell’Annunciazione.
After wandering in the narrow streets behind the Duomo, return to the Piazza San Francesco and turn south on the Via Ridola. On the right is a typical rococo extravagance of the south, the Chiesa del Purgatorio of 1747, its façade decorated with macabre motifs; the circular interior is happily intact. Beyond the church of the Carmine, turn left on the Strada Panoramica dei Sassi, which curls round to emerge in the Piazza San Pietro above the river. The road continues on the line of the cliffs, and the walk northwards to the Sasso Barisano is memorable.
Matera is visibly fragile. The eroded cliffs continue to erode, and rock-cut dwellings are not easily adapted to twenty-first-century domestic requirements. Much has been done to preserve a remarkable complex. And yet, more perhaps than in any other major artistic centre in Italy, you sense that Matera disintegrates before your eyes. Her protection is imperative.