1473 Best Sights in Italy

A steep, half-hour walk (or a very twisty drive) from Acireale's center, this picturesque harbor, with lava stone steps leading to the water, is filled with fishermen unloading brightly colored boats. Inexpensive lunches are served in the many restaurants along the harbor; your fresh fish dish is priced by weight.

With its scenic setting on the edge of Atrani with the Amalfi Coast road curving around its base, the Santa Maria Maddalena church certainly has the most eye-catching setting of any building along the coastline. Sixteenth-century paintings attributed to Amalfi Coast artists adorn this church that was built in 1274 and given a Baroque facade in 1852. Majolica tiles cover the dome, and the bell tower has an octagonal belfry similar to the campanile of the Carmine church in Naples. Among the treasures here are the altar, with its richly colored marbles, and the aforementioned paintings, St. Magdalene between St. Sebastian and St. Andrew by Giovannangelo D'Amato of Maiori, and The Incredulity of St. Thomas by Andrea da Salerno. However, the view from the charming piazza in front of the church is alone worth the climb.

As inscribed on a capital at the entrance, one Duke Mansone I had this church constructed in 986. Though the layout is Byzantine, a 17th-century overhaul inverted the entrance and high altar, and the decoration is now mostly Baroque. The campanile dates from the 12th century, and there's a noteworthy 18th-century crèche. Church hours are erratic; check with the Duomo for when Mass is scheduled.

The two great Umbrian artists Pinturicchio and Perugino hold sway in this 16th-century basilica. Pinturicchio's vivid frescoes in the Cappella Baglioni (1501) are striking for their rich colors, finely dressed figures, and complex symbolism. Among his finest works are the Nativity, Christ Among the Doctors, and the Annunciation (look for Pinturicchio's self-portrait in the Virgin's room). Two pillars on either side of the apse are decorated with frescoes by Perugino (circa 1450–1523).

This little 14th-century church on the main square has frescoes from the late-15th-century Sienese Umbrian school and a ciborium dating from the 8th century.

Many sessions of the Council of Trent met in this Renaissance church. Limited light enters through the simple rose window over the main door, so you have to strain to see the magnificent ceiling, an intricate combination of frescoes and stuccowork. The church is off the northwest side of the Piazza del Duomo, about 200 yards down Via Cavour.

The facade of this church looks distinctly clumsy by later Renaissance standards, and with good reason: it is an architectural hybrid. The lower half was completed mostly in the 14th century, and its pointed-arch niches and decorative marble patterns reflect the Gothic style of the day. About 100 years later (around 1456), architect Leon Battista Alberti was called in to complete the job. The marble decoration of his upper story clearly defers to the already existing work below, but the architectural motifs he added evince an entirely different style. The central doorway, the four ground-floor half-columns with Corinthian capitals, the triangular pediment atop the second story, the inscribed frieze immediately below the pediment—these are borrowings from antiquity, and they reflect the new Renaissance style in architecture, born some 35 years earlier at the Spedale degli Innocenti.

Alberti's most important addition—the S-curve scrolls (called volutes) surmounting the decorative circles on either side of the upper story—had no precedent whatsoever in antiquity. The problem was to soften the abrupt transition between wide ground floor and narrow upper story. Alberti's solution turned out to be definitive. Once you start to look for them, you will find scrolls such as these (or sculptural variations of them) on churches all over Italy, and every one of them derives from Alberti's example here.

The architecture of the interior is, like that of the Duomo, a dignified but somber example of Florentine Gothic. Exploration is essential, however, because the church's store of art treasures is remarkable. Highlights include the 14th-century, stained-glass-rose window depicting the Coronation of the Virgin (above the central entrance); the Cappella Filippo Strozzi (to the right of the altar) containing late-15th-century frescoes and stained glass by Filippino Lippi; the cappella maggiore (the area around the high altar) displaying frescoes by Ghirlandaio; and the Cappella Gondi (to the left of the altar) with Filippo Brunelleschi's famous wooden crucifix, carved around 1410 and said to have so stunned the great Donatello when he first saw it that he dropped a basket of eggs.

Of special interest for its great historical importance and beauty is Masaccio's Trinity, on the left-hand wall, almost halfway down the nave. Painted around 1426–27 (at the same time he was working on his frescoes in Santa Maria del Carmine), it unequivocally announced the arrival of the Renaissance. The realism of the figure of Christ was revolutionary in itself, but what was probably even more startling to contemporary Florentines was the barrel vault in the background. The mathematical rules for employing single-point perspective in painting had just been discovered (probably by Brunelleschi), and this was one of the first works of art to employ them with utterly convincing success.

In the first cloister is a faded and damaged fresco cycle by Paolo Uccello depicting tales from Genesis, with a dramatic vision of the Deluge. Earlier and better-preserved frescoes painted in 1348–55 by Andrea da Firenze are in the chapter house, or the Cappellone degli Spagnoli (Spanish Chapel), off the cloister.

Just a few steps from the Duomo, this architectural gem was first built in 876 and later perfected by Bramante (1444–1514), demonstrating his command of proportion and perspective—hallmarks of Renaissance architecture. Bramante tricks the eye with a famous optical illusion that makes a small interior seem extraordinarily spacious and airy, while accommodating a beloved 13th-century fresco.

Dating from the time of the Emperor Augustus (27 BC–AD 14), this structure was originally dedicated to the Roman goddess of wisdom, and in later times it was used as a monastery and prison before being converted into a church in the 16th century. The expectations raised by the perfect classical facade are not met by the interior, which was subjected to a thorough Baroque transformation in the 17th century.

This small, inconspicuous, 9th-century church is known above all for the exquisite Cappella di San Zenone, just to the left of the entrance. It gleams with vivid mosaics that reflect their Byzantine inspiration. Though much less classical and naturalistic than the earlier mosaics of Santa Pudenziana, they are no less splendid, and the composition of four angels hovering on the sky-blue vault is one of the masterstrokes of Byzantine art. Note the square halo over the head of Theodora, mother of St. Paschal I, the pope who built this church. It indicates that she was still alive when she was depicted by the artist.

The chapel also contains one curious relic: a miniature pillar, supposedly part of the column at which Christ was flogged during the Passion. It was brought to Rome in the 13th century. Over the main altar, the magnificent mosaics on the arch and apse are also in rigid Byzantine style. In them, Pope Paschal I wears the square halo of the living and holds a model of his church.

Started in the 11th century by Vallombrosian monks and originally Romanesque in style, this church underwent a Gothic remodeling during the 14th century. (Remains of the Romanesque construction are visible on the interior front wall.) The major works are the fresco cycle and altarpiece in the Cappella Sassetti, the second to the high altar's right, painted by Ghirlandaio between 1480 and 1485. His work here possesses graceful decorative appeal and proudly depicts his native city, as most of the cityscapes show 15th-century Florence in all its glory. The wall frescoes illustrate scenes from the life of St. Francis, and the altarpiece, depicting the Adoration of the Shepherds, veritably glows.

This Baroque church in a basic Latin-cross style with a single nave shares the piazza with a contemporary art school in a typically anarchic Neapolitan mix. The church, designed by the architect Francesco Grimaldi for the Theatin fathers and erected between 1610 and 1649, replaced a previous church, itself constructed on the remains of a temple probably dedicated to Mercury.

Santi Apostoli is worth a quick peek for its coherent, intact Baroque decorative scheme. Excellent paintings (circa 1644) by Giovanni Lanfranco each narrate a different martyrdom, and there are works by his successors, Francesco Solimena and Luca Giordano. An altar in the left transept by Francesco Borromini is the only work in Naples by this noted architect whose freedom from formality so inspired the exuberance of the Baroque.

Dating from the mid-13th century, this church was restructured in 1447 by Michelozzo, who gave it an uncommon (and lovely) entrance cloister with frescoes by Andrea del Sarto (1486–1530), Pontormo (1494–1556), and Rosso Fiorentino (1494–1540). Another fresco of note is the very fine Holy Trinity with St. Jerome in the second chapel on the left. Done by Andrea del Castagno (circa 1421–57), it shows a wiry and emaciated St. Jerome with Paula and Eustochium, two of his closest followers.

With its oft-photographed bell towers and scenic location below Villa Rufolo, the deconsecrated church of Santissima Annunziata is one of Ravello's most recognizable features, dating from the 13th century, when it was constructed for the wealthy Fusco family. The adjoining oratory was the 15th-century seat of the flagellating Confraternity of Battent. The church is generally closed to the public except for special events, such as performances by chamber orchestras. For an up-close look at the exterior, exit the Villa Rufolo and take a sharp right to reach the Via dell'Annunziata stair path, which plummets you down the hillside right past the church and to the scenic Via della Repubblica.

Exuberantly frescoed vaults decorate the 16th- to 17th-century church, which is an excellent example of Genovese Baroque architecture. Note the recently restored Last Supper by Giulio Cesare Procaccini (1574--1625), displayed above the main entrance.

The plain, unfinished facade belies an interior that is one of the most important examples of Renaissance architecture in Italy. It's one of a pair designed in Florence by Filippo Brunelleschi in the early decades of the 15th century (the other is San Lorenzo). It was here that Brunelleschi supplied definitive solutions to the two major problems of interior Renaissance church design: how to build a cross-shape interior using classical architectural elements borrowed from antiquity and how to reflect in that interior the order and regularity that Renaissance scientists (among them Brunelleschi himself) were at the time discovering in the natural world around them.

Brunelleschi's solution to the first problem was brilliantly simple: turn a Greek temple inside out. While ancient Greek temples were walled buildings surrounded by classical colonnades, Brunelleschi's churches were classical arcades surrounded by walled buildings. This brilliant architectural idea overthrew the previous era's religious taboo against pagan architecture once and for all, triumphantly claiming that architecture for Christian use.

Brunelleschi's solution to the second problem—making the entire interior orderly and regular—was mathematically precise: he designed the ground plan of the church so that all its parts were proportionally related. The transepts and nave have exactly the same width; the side aisles are precisely half as wide as the nave; the little chapels off the side aisles are exactly half as deep as the side aisles; the chancel and transepts are exactly one-eighth the depth of the nave; and so on, with dizzying exactitude. For Brunelleschi, such a design technique was a matter of passionate conviction. Like most theoreticians of his day, he believed that mathematical regularity and aesthetic beauty were flip sides of the same coin, that one was not possible without the other. In the refectory, adjacent to the church, you can see Andrea Orcagna's highly damaged fresco of the Crucifixion.

Originally founded by Augustinians in the 11th century, the church of Santo Stefano can be visited only by requesting a tour in the Collegiata di Sant'Andrea. It's worth the walk around the corner and down the street to see the sinopie (preparatory drawings) by Masolino depicting scenes from the Legend of the True Cross. He left without actually frescoing them; it may be that the Augustinian friars were late in making payment.

This 5th-century church is thought to have been inspired by the design of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Its unusual round plan and timbered ceiling set it apart from most other Roman churches. So do the frescoes, which lovingly depict 34 of the goriest martyrdoms in Catholicism—a catalog, above the names of different emperors, of every type of violent death conceivable. (You've been warned: these are not for the fainthearted.)

A 20-minute hike up the steps from Via XXIV Maggio to the terrace of this twin-towered sanctuary rewards you with a panoramic view over the rooftops of the city. Pope John Paul II (in statue form) stands here, too, taking in the pylons on either side of the strait, with the lofty, golden statue of the Madonnina (patron saint of Messina) guarding the port while ferries ply their way to Calabria. The church was the first religious building to be rebuilt after the earthquake of 1908.

This church is located high above town, reachable by walking up the zigzagging road along the Strada Provinciale 147, or the signposted path at Via Libertá 87, by the candy store. Once you get up the steep hill (and it will be a bit of a workout), you can admire the breathtaking views along the coast; you can even see the peak of the Madonie above Palermo in the distance. The church itself houses the statue of the town's patron saint, the Madonna Maria Santissima, taken in a procession around the streets as part of feast day celebrations in October. 

After a 40-day fast in 1224, St. Francis of Assisi had a vision of Christ crucified and received the stigmata, the signs of Christ's wounds, on his hands, feet, and chest. A stone in the floor of the 1263 Chapel of the Stigmata marks the spot.

A covered corridor through which the monks pass, chanting in a solemn procession each day at 3 pm on the way to Mass, is lined with simple frescoes of the Life of St. Francis by a late-17th-century Franciscan artist. The true artistic treasures of the place, though, are 15 della Robbia glazed terra-cottas. Most, like a heartbreakingly beautiful Annunciation, are in the 14th- to 15th-century basilica, which has a 5,000-pipe organ that sings out joyously at Masses.

Several chapels, each with its own story, can be visited, and some natural and spiritual wonders can also be seen. A walkway along the 230-foot-high cliff leads to an indentation where the rock is said to have miraculously melted away to protect St. Francis when the devil tried to push him off the edge. Most touching is the enormous Sasso Spicco (Projecting Rock), detached on three sides and surrounded with mossy rocks and trees, where St. Francis meditated. You can also view the Letto di San Francesco (St. Francis's Bed), a slab of rock in a cold, damp cave with an iron grate on which he prayed, did penance, and sometimes slept.

A 40-minute walk through the woods to the top of Mt. Penna passes some religious sites and ends in panoramic views of the Arno Valley, but those from the wide, cliff-edge terrace are equally impressive, including the tower of the castle in Poppi, the Prato Magno (great meadow), and the olive groves and vineyards on the lower slopes. Santuario della Verna's foresteria also has simple but comfortable rooms with or without bath. A restaurant with basic fare is open to the public, and a shop sells souvenirs and the handiwork of the monks.

As you leave La Verna, be glad you needn't do it as Edith Wharton (1862–1937) did on a 1912 visit during a drive across the Casentino. As she wrote, her car "had to be let down on ropes to a point about ¾ mile below the monastery, Cook [her chauffeur] steering down the vertical descent, and twenty men hanging on to a funa [rope] that, thank the Lord, didn't break."

This sanctuary dedicated to the Virgin Mary and local saints is one of Sicily's most revered religious sites, visited by devout pilgrims from all over the country. The complex was originally built for the Carmelite religious order in 1332, and its most treasured object is the life-size statue of the Madonna di Trapani, serenely smiling and holding the infant Jesus, thought to be the work of Nino Pisano or his studio. The importance of the sanctuary to the local fishing community is shown in the chapel dedicated to sailors, displaying scallop-shell motifs over every window as well as over the altar itself, and in one chapel dedicated to fishermen, dating from the 16th century. A separate room holds numerous ex-voto paintings of sailing vessels beset by stormy waters.

Pilgrims have flocked to the mountain community of Monte Sant'Angelo for nearly 1,500 years—among them St. Francis of Assisi and crusaders setting off for the Holy Land from the then-flourishing port of Manfredonia. Monte Sant'Angelo is centered on the Santuario di San Michele, built over the grotto where the archangel Michael is believed to have appeared before shepherds in the year 490. Walk down a long series of steps to get to the grotto itself; on its walls you can see the hand tracings left by pilgrims. The Sanctuary was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2011. To learn more about the history and myth surrounding the site visit the adjoining Musei TECUM.

Stop at the San Pellegrino in Alpe monastery en route from Abetone to Castelnuovo di Garfagnana to see the staggering view and the large wooden cross. The story goes that a 9th-century Scot, Pellegrino ("Little Pilgrim") by name, came to this spot to repent.

To the southeast of Chianciano, 10 km (6 miles) along SP19, lies this relatively unspoiled village that dates from the 12th and 13th centuries. The town's narrow streets, which wind slowly up toward an imposing fortress, now privately owned, make for very pleasant strolling.

The 18-minute ride from Sassi up the Superga hill is a real treat on a clear day. The view of the Alps is magnificent at the hilltop Parco Naturale Collina Torinese, a tranquil retreat from the bustle of the city. If you feel like a little exercise, you can walk back down to Sassi (about two hours) on one of the well-marked wooded trails that start from the upper station. Other circular trails lead through the park and back to Superga. Note that a bus replaces the train on Wednesday, although the ride up the hill is still just as lovely.

The "little scuola" of the shoemakers—also known as the Scoletta of Sant' Aniano—conducted its affairs in its headquarters in this charming building on Campo San Tomà. It is now used for community meetings and lectures open to the public, as well as small exhibitions. Most notable is the relief carving (Pietro Lombardo, 1478) above the main door that vividly portrays San Marco miraculously healing Aniano, a poor shoemaker and the scuola's patron saint. The story goes that San Marco had arrived in Alexandria, Egypt, and was directed by the archangel Michael to go to Aniano to fix his broken sandal. He found the shoemaker in terrible pain from having injured himself with one of his tools. Marco preached the gospel to him, and then created a substance by mixing his saliva with dust from the road that healed the injury immediately. Aniano converted to Christianity and was baptized by Marco himself.

The charming rose-colored building tucked beside the church of San Stae was the headquarters of the guilds of the gold "pullers" (gold wire and thread) and gold beaters (gold leaf). Although it was a very old guild, founded in 1420, it was one of the smallest (only 48 members); this building, not their first, was constructed in 1711, and closed in 1798, a year after the fall of the Venetian Republic. After changing hands several times, in the early 20th century it became the property of a Venetian antiques dealer, whose family still owns it today. While it is not open to the public, the building is used for elegant private events.

Another of the six "great" scuole, San Giovanni Evangelista, founded in 1261, is only a few steps from the Frari and San Rocco, but undeservedly lacks the popularity of San Rocco despite its impressive Renaissance architecture by two of the greatest architects of the 15th century (Pietro Lombardo and Mauro Codussi). The wealth of paintings by Titian, Palma il Giovane, and Giandomenico Tiepolo favor depictions of St. John's visions of the Apocalypse. The famous paintings of the "Miracles of the Reliquary of the Holy Cross," created by Giovanni Bellini in 1490 for the scuola, are in the Accademia Gallery. The grand staircase was redesigned in 1498 by Mauro Codussi, who employed several visual tricks to make it seem larger than its small space would allow, and the mosaic marble pavement of the Salone (Giorgio Massari, 1752) is a masterpiece of the stoneworker's art. If you don't have time to visit the scuola itself, be sure to stop in its unique semi-enclosed medieval courtyard. The marble wall (Pietro Lombardo, 1481) is surmounted by a cross, eagle, and books, all symbols of St. John. The pavement (1759) echoes the designs seen on Piazza San Marco.

For a glimpse of the magnificent interiors and gardens of the Palazzo Arcivescovile, the palace of 17th-century Archbishop Giovanni Antonio Capobianco, which is next to the Duomo, and the wondrous Biblioteca Alagoniana, this museum is well worth 45 minutes of your time. Visitors proceed through the ground floor, first taking in the pious displays in the vaulted Cappella Sveva, reminiscent of (and probably hewn by) Castello Maniace's stonemasons. Next is the atmospheric 17th-century Carcere Vescovile, with austere prison cells, narrow windows, and internal courtyard, all designed for the control of the inmates. Corridors lined with historic portraits of Ortigia worthies and documents lead to the uplifting itinerary highlight, the Biblioteca Alagoniana (1780), named for Bishop G. B. Alagona. Reeking of knowledge, intrigue, and mystery, the wood-lined library contains over 70,000 volumes, including 21 priceless Latin, Greek, and Arabic codexes, 17 incunabolo pamphlets from the late 1400s, and an illustrated Liber Cronicarium (1493, Nuremberg) by German polymath Hartmann Schedel (1440–1514). You exit the palazzo via the beautiful, flowery gardens.