Name: L’angelo Della Luce (The Angel of Light)
Location: Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martiri
Size/Material: Roughly 5-6 ft./ Bronze
On Monday, as we skipped from church to church, I was wondering which piece of artwork I was going to write about for this journal. At each different place I began changing my mind until we finally entered the St. Mary’s Basilica of Angels and Martyrs. Walking throughout the incredibly huge basilica, I began talking to a few fellow comrades (aka Catie), and I listened to her perception of where we were at. Prior to listening to her opinion, I was going to write about the pillars and patterns of a church that we saw earlier in the day, but she made me widen my view and look around the unique space where we were standing. Instantly, I was attracted to a sculpture near the entrance. As I neared the object, I recalled passing by it earlier and even taking a few pictures, but not really paying much attention to it. Anyways, I walked up to it slowly, examining its features because it kind of looked awkward to be sitting in church, but I knew this was the object of the week.
It was the Angel of Light. It appeared to be a very modern angel and somewhat ugly. It was created in 2000 by Ernesto Lamagna. Lamagna was born in Naples and he now lives and works in Rome (Wiki). At first I couldn’t understand why this sculpture would be located in a church, especially near the entrance of all places. The hands were very elongated. Almost to the extent that the fingertips looked like they were dripping. Its hands were disproportional to its body. The wings were broken in some ways, possibly ruffled or too looked aged. I couldn’t exactly tell what the bottom of the sculpture was. Possibly a demon of some sort attached trying to hold on. Maybe it feared the light that the angel was illuminating.
Finally, after 5 or 10 minutes of studying the sculpture, I came to the conclusion that it was a symbol of protection for the basilica. It brought a fascinating light by its bronze appearance, and it was suppose to fight off the evil (symbolism of the demon on that bottom) that was trying to overtake it. But the demon couldn’t overtake it due it’s light. To me it portrayed the fact that evil is never going to overtake the good.
DW IN DC 
Danny,
I think that it was great the way that you wrote how at first you did not even notice this particular piece of art. As we walk through the many churches, I find myself doing the same thing. There is so much art surrounding us in every single church, that it is impossible to take it all in at one time. Today, while visiting San Luigi Dei Francesi Church, I caught myself falling into an unfortunate thought. The beauty in these churches, I am having a hard time continuing to appreciate in the way in which they deserve. All of them look so similar in their outstanding amount of detail, that I am overwhelmed to the point of dismissal. So, I completely understand how you could have walked directly passed a gorgeous work of art. I am just happy that on your way back through the church it caught your eye. In The Italians, Barzini speaks on how nowhere else in the world is there such desire for art, as well as nowhere else in the world is there so much art to be desired as in Rome. This, of course, is my rendition of his statement. It may be because we are not Romans, and we cannot spiritually and intellectually appreciate art in the way they do, or the fact that the city is packed full of other equally exciting opportunities that we tend to not notice every breath taking piece of art in each church we find ourselves exploring. Whatever the case may be, I can see after reading this journal that although we may not be as fortunate to see and experience every piece of art which may be around us, those that we get the change to witness, we can interpret. I love that you were not only able to, but chose to interpret L’Angelo Della Luce for what you thought it symbolized. Although artists try to depict a certain thought or message, I think the true beauty becomes evident as the witness puts their own spin on the message within the artwork and what it may mean to them.
You make some fascinating hypotheses in here, scientist…well-played!
Your look at modern renditions of angels is a useful one, Danny.