The Streets In Which They Stand Are Loud With Transit And Traffic, But The Palaces Hold Aloof From The Turmoil And Lift Their Lofty Heads To The Level Of The Gardens Behind Them.

Huge, heavy they are, according to the local ideal, and always wanting the delicacy of Venetian architecture, where something

In the native genius tempered to gentleness the cold severity of Palladio, and where Sansovino knew how to bridge the gulf between the Gothic and the Renascent art that would have been Greek but halted at being Roman.

The grandeur of those streets of palaces in Genoa cannot be denied, but perhaps, if the visitor quite consulted his preference or indulged his humor, he would wander rather through the arcades of the busy port, up the chasmal alleys of little shops into the tiny piazzas, no bigger than a good-sized room, opening before some ancient church and packed with busy, noisy people. The perspective there is often like the perspective in old Naples, but the uproar in Genoa does not break in music as it does in Naples, and the chill lingering in the sunless depths of those chasms is the cold of a winter that begins earlier and a spring that loiters later than the genial seasons of the South.

X

EDEN AFTER THE FALL

A few years ago an Englishman who had lived our neighbor in the same villa at San Remo, came and said that he was going away because it was so dull at San Remo.

Enter page number Go  Previous Next
Page 330 of 353
Words from 90702 to 90954 of 97259