Curia Julia

Stand still for a moment in front of the tall brick wall. The bricks are a warm, dusty orange, and in the afternoon the light turns them almost the colour of terracotta. Around you, the Roman Forum hums with footsteps on gravel and voices in many languages. This plain-looking building, with its steep roof and its row of small windows high up, does not ask for attention. Yet for centuries it was one of the most important rooms in the Roman world.

This is the Curia Julia, the Senate House of ancient Rome. Here the senators of the city met, argued, voted and plotted. The word curia simply means a meeting place for an assembly. The name Julia comes from the family of Julius Caesar. He began this building in the last years of his life, and it carries his family name to this day.

The Senate did not always meet here. Earlier senate houses stood close by, on slightly different ground. Caesar decided to move and rebuild the Senate's home as part of his larger plan to reshape the Forum. The choice was political as much as practical. A new senate house, built by Caesar and named for his family, sent a clear message about who now shaped the city. Caesar was murdered before the work was finished. His adopted heir, Augustus, completed it and dedicated it.

Now here is the first surprise. The building in front of you is not the one Caesar or Augustus knew. A serious fire swept through this part of the Forum in the late third century. Afterwards the emperor Diocletian rebuilt the Senate House, largely following the older plan. So what you see today is mostly a late Roman building — still ancient, but around three centuries younger than its famous founder.

Look again at the bare brick. In Roman times, the facade did not look like this. The lower part was faced with marble, and the upper part was covered in stucco shaped and painted to look like stone. The Romans wanted their Senate to appear solid, bright and formal. The rough brick we admire today is really the skeleton of the building. Its fine skin was stripped away over many centuries of reuse.

And reuse is the reason this building survives at all. In the seventh century, the Senate House was turned into a Christian church, dedicated to Saint Hadrian, a martyr of the early Church. Many great Roman buildings were pulled apart for their stone. This one was protected because people kept using it. A roof that is kept repaired, and a room that is kept open, can last a very long time.

The second surprise is about the doors. The great bronze doors of the Senate House did not stay here. In the seventeenth century, the architect Francesco Borromini moved them to the Basilica of Saint John Lateran, one of Rome's major churches. They still hang there. So if you visit that basilica later, you can push through doors that once opened for Roman senators. The doors you see here today are a modern replacement.

In the twentieth century, the building changed again. During the 1930s, archaeologists removed the later church additions and restored the hall to something close to its late Roman form. This work was carried out under the Fascist government of the time, which liked to connect itself with ancient Rome. Whatever we think of those motives, the restoration gave us back the shape of the original chamber.

If the building is open during your visit, step inside. The hall is tall and simple, and surprisingly quiet. Look down at the floor. It is made of cut stone pieces fitted together in patterns, a technique the Romans called opus sectile. You will see deep red porphyry, a hard purple-red stone from Egypt, and a dark green stone called serpentine. These colours were costly and imperial, chosen to show power.

Now look along the long side walls. You will see low, wide steps running the length of the room. These were not seats themselves. Senators placed their chairs on these steps, facing each other across the open floor. Imagine the hall full of men in white togas, standing to speak, turning to the presiding officer at the far end. The shape of the room is the shape of debate itself.

At the far end there once stood an altar and a statue of Victory, placed here by Augustus. For centuries senators offered incense there before their meetings. In the late fourth century, as the empire became Christian, the altar was removed. Some senators protested strongly, and the dispute became a famous moment in the struggle between old Roman religion and the new faith. Inside, you may also see carved marble panels from the time of the emperor Trajan, showing scenes from the Forum and animals led to sacrifice.

Step back outside and look at the open ground in front of the doors. In earlier centuries, this area was the Comitium, a gathering place where citizens assembled and where speakers addressed the crowd. Just nearby lies a patch of black stone, the Lapis Niger, linked by the Romans themselves to the city's earliest and most mysterious past. Even in ancient times, this corner of the Forum felt very old.

Before you move on, take one last look at the brick wall and its high windows. Notice how the building rises above the broken columns around it, still whole, still roofed. Most of the Forum is now fragments. This hall kept its walls because people never stopped finding a use for it. As you walk away along the gravel path, listen to the voices around you — people still gather here, still talk, still argue. In a way, the room is still doing its old work.