Imitation hedgehog

I visited the medieval monstrosity a few days back. Some pictures here. D H Lawrence called it "an imitation hedgehog of a cathedral". Mark Twain went all wobbly on knees, "What a wonder it is! So grand, so solemn, so vast! And yet so delicate, so airy, so graceful!"

Whatever the Duomo is or is not, it is surely monstrous and as captivating as a giant porcupine with sculpted spines. I went up the lift on a clear wednesday. From the top I could see the Italian Alps far away.

What strikes you the most is a sudden awareness of the inhuman effort that the Duomo represents. It is 157 metres tall and was built over a few centuries, the final facade given to it by Napolean in early 1800. The numerous spires stand all around you and make you feel wanting and very impotent. That surely was the intention. Still, behind all these efforts to rise above the ordinary, imperfections lie. Not just lie but snare irreverent strangers like me. The structure tries to bully its way into heaven. The Duomo's ambition to reach god is matched by its fear of what it presumes to lie below - damnation and hell. Only religion is capable of evoking such fear and passion in humans.

When I looked down to one side of the Duomo, I saw "Calamita Cosmica" (Cosmic Magnet) by the enigmatic Italian artist Gino de Dominicis. It was his conception of death, I suppose. He disappeared without telling anyone. Strange dude. The skeleton and the Duomo have much in common.