Villa Farnesina

Listen for a moment. The traffic along the Tiber is only a short walk away, yet here the sound fades into gravel, birdsong, and the soft echo of footsteps on old stone. The air in the garden carries the green smell of clipped hedges and citrus leaves. In front of you stands a pale, elegant villa, two storeys of calm proportion, its walls the colour of warm cream. It looks modest from outside. Inside, it holds some of the most ambitious painting of the Italian Renaissance.

This is the Villa Farnesina, on Via della Lungara in Trastevere. It was built in the early sixteenth century for Agostino Chigi, a banker from Siena. Chigi was one of the richest men in Europe. He lent money to popes and kings, and he wanted a house that showed it. He did not want a fortress or a city palace. He wanted a suburban retreat by the river, a place for gardens, feasts, poetry, and pleasure.

The architect was Baldassare Peruzzi, also from Siena. His design is light and open. Look at the plan of the building. The two wings reach forward like arms, framing the space in front of you. On the ground floor, open arcades called loggias once let the garden flow straight into the house. Today some of these openings are glazed to protect the frescoes, but you can still feel the original idea. This was a building meant to breathe.

Now for the name. Chigi never called it the Farnesina. After his death, his family's fortune declined. Later in the sixteenth century, the villa was bought by the powerful Farnese family. Their great palace stood just across the river, and the name Farnesina simply means the little Farnese house. So the villa carries the name of its buyers, not its builder. It is one of the quiet ironies of Rome.

Step into the Loggia of Cupid and Psyche, the large hall that once opened onto the garden. Look up. The ceiling is painted to look like an open pergola, with two great tapestries stretched across the sky. These scenes tell the story of Psyche, a mortal woman loved by Cupid, the god of desire. The design came from Raphael. Much of the painting was carried out by his workshop, including Giulio Romano and Giovanni Francesco Penni.

Here is a detail most visitors miss. Look at the garlands that frame the scenes. They are thick ropes of fruit, flowers, and vegetables, painted by Giovanni da Udine, a member of Raphael's team. Scholars have identified many plants in them, including species recently brought to Europe from the Americas, such as squash and maize. Some of the fruit is also arranged in deliberately cheeky shapes. The humour is part of the decoration. This was a house for laughter as well as learning.

Next, walk into the Loggia of Galatea. On one wall you will find Raphael's own hand at work. The fresco shows Galatea, a sea nymph from Greek myth, riding across the waves on a shell pulled by dolphins. Her body twists in a spiral. Her red cloak lifts in the wind. Cupids aim arrows from above, and sea creatures crowd around her. It is one of the few large frescoes in Rome painted personally by Raphael.

Beside her, a giant figure sits on the shore. This is Polyphemus, the one-eyed Cyclops who loved Galatea without hope. He was painted by Sebastiano del Piombo, a Venetian artist. Then look at the ceiling above you. Peruzzi painted it with gods and constellations, and scholars believe the arrangement records the position of the stars at Chigi's own birth. The banker literally placed his horoscope over his head.

There is one more curiosity in this room. In a lunette high on the wall, you may notice a huge head sketched in charcoal, unfinished and strangely out of place. Legend has it that Michelangelo drew it while waiting for a friend, as a silent comment on the small scale of the other figures. There is no firm evidence for this story. Most historians treat it as a tale. Still, it is fun to look up and imagine the scene.

Now climb the stairs to the upper floor and enter the Hall of Perspectives. Peruzzi painted the walls to dissolve them. Between painted columns, you seem to look out onto the rooftops and countryside of sixteenth century Rome. Stand near the centre of the room, and the illusion works best. Move toward the walls, and the trick breaks apart. This kind of painting is called trompe l'oeil, French for fool the eye.

Look closely at the lower parts of these painted views. You will see scratches in the plaster, words and dates carved by hand. These are graffiti left by soldiers during the Sack of Rome in 1527, when imperial troops looted the city. Some of the writing is in German. These marks are now protected as history. A moment of violence became part of the room itself.

Next door is Chigi's bedroom. Here the painter known as Sodoma created the marriage of Alexander the Great and Roxana. Cupids help Roxana undress while Alexander offers her a crown. The scene was a fitting subject for a bedroom, and some say a hint at Chigi's own late marriage. Then there is the most famous legend of the villa. Locals say that after one banquet, Chigi had his guests throw silver plates into the Tiber, with nets hidden below the water to recover them. It is a good story, but it is only a story.

Today the villa belongs to the Italian state. It is home to the Accademia dei Lincei, one of the oldest scientific academies in the world. When you step back outside, notice how the garden stops short of the river. In the late nineteenth century, Rome built high embankments along the Tiber, and part of the old grounds was lost. Chigi's guests once walked down to the water. Now the river runs behind walls of stone.

Take a final moment in the garden before you leave. Look back at the plain facade, and think about the painted sky, the sea nymph, and the soldiers' scratches hidden behind it. Across the street stands Palazzo Corsini, another great house of art. As you walk away along Via della Lungara, listen to the city return around you... the scooters, the voices, the bells. The villa stays quiet behind you, keeping its colours for the next visitor.