Palazzo Pubblico

Feel the ground under your feet. The red brick of the Piazza del Campo slopes gently downhill, and every line in the pavement seems to lead toward one building. Rainwater follows the same path. So does the eye. At the bottom of this great tilted fan of brick stands the Palazzo Pubblico, the town hall of Siena. Its tower rises so high that you have to lean back to see the top. Pause here for a moment. Listen to the pigeons, the scrape of café chairs, and the voices that bounce off the curved walls around you.

This palace was built for government, not for a king or a bishop. Work began at the very end of the thirteenth century. At that time Siena was a self-governing republic, and it was rich from banking, trade, and wool. The city was ruled by a council of merchants known as the Nine. They wanted a seat of power that showed how the city ruled itself. The building in front of you is their answer. It is a statement in stone and brick about civic pride, written seven centuries ago.

Look down at the piazza again. The pavement is divided by pale stone lines into nine sections. Many visitors walk across them without noticing. Those nine slices are usually read as a tribute to the Nine, the council that shaped this square and this palace. The whole square works almost like a theatre. The seating curves around, and the stage is the palace itself. Even today, Sienese people sit on this sloping brick as if it were a giant open-air living room.

Now study the facade. Here is a detail that most people miss: the front of the building is not flat. It curves slightly inward, following the shape of the piazza. The architects bent a whole palace to fit the square. Notice the materials too. The lower storey is built of pale stone. The upper floors are warm brick. Rows of Gothic windows are each divided into three narrow openings by slim columns. Above them, a crown of battlements runs along the roofline.

You will also see a shield divided into two halves, white above and black below. This is the balzana, the coat of arms of Siena. It appears all over the city, on flags, doorways, and lampposts. Look for the she-wolf as well. According to local legend, Siena was founded by Senius and Aschius, the sons of Remus. Remus was the twin brother of Romulus, the legendary founder of Rome. So the she-wolf feeding two infants, which you know from Rome, appears here too. It is Siena's way of claiming an ancient family line.

And then there is the tower. The Torre del Mangia was raised in the first half of the fourteenth century. It is one of the tallest medieval towers in Italy. Its slender brick shaft ends in a pale stone crown with a bell. The name has a funny story behind it. The first bell-ringer was a man nicknamed Mangiaguadagni, which roughly means "eat the profits". People said he spent his wages as fast as he earned them. His nickname stayed with the tower long after he was gone.

There is a second story about the tower's height. The palace stands at the lowest point of the square, below the hill where the cathedral stands. It is often said that the builders made the tower tall enough for its top to match the height of the cathedral bell tower. Whether that was the true plan or a story told later, the meaning is clear. Here in Siena, the town government and the Church stood as equals.

At the foot of the tower, look for a small open stone loggia. This is the Cappella di Piazza, the Chapel of the Square. It was built after the Black Death of 1348, the plague that killed a huge share of Siena's people. The surviving citizens made a vow, and this chapel was the result. The plague ended the city's golden age. Siena never quite returned to the wealth and ambition it had before. This small chapel is a quiet memorial to that loss.

Inside the palace, the upper floors hold the Civic Museum. The rooms where the councils once met are now galleries. In the Sala del Mappamondo, the Hall of the World Map, a huge painting covers one wall. It is the Maestà by Simone Martini, finished in the early fourteenth century. Maestà means "majesty". It shows the Virgin Mary enthroned under a canopy, with saints around her. Here she does not stand only for faith. She is the protector of the city, and she reminds the rulers below to govern fairly.

Why is the room called the Hall of the World Map? Because it once held a great rotating map of the world, painted by Ambrogio Lorenzetti. That map is lost. Some writers say that you can still see faint circular scars on the wall where it turned. Opposite the Maestà there is a famous fresco of a knight on horseback, riding across a bare landscape of castles and camps. Scholars still argue about who painted it and when. Even the experts are not sure of the answer.

The next room holds what many people consider the greatest treasure in the building. In the Hall of the Nine, Ambrogio Lorenzetti painted his frescoes of Good and Bad Government in the late 1330s. On one wall, a peaceful city thrives. Merchants trade, builders work on rooftops, and young people dance in the street. Outside the walls, farmers harvest the hills. On the opposite wall, under tyranny, the city falls into ruin. It is one of the earliest large paintings in Europe to show everyday city and country life.

Here is a final surprise. Look closely at the Bad Government wall, and you will see that it is badly damaged. The Good Government wall is much better preserved. Visitors often notice this irony. The council members sat in this room while they made decisions about the city. These paintings worked as a daily lesson in politics. This building is still the seat of Siena's city government today. Council business still goes on behind these walls, centuries after the Nine held their meetings here.

Twice each summer, this square changes completely. During the Palio, the famous horse race, earth is spread over the brick, and riders race bareback around the edge of the piazza. The palace becomes the backdrop to the loudest moments of the Sienese year. For now, though, look up at the tower once more. Watch how the light moves across the brick as the day passes. As you walk away, notice how the square still pulls you back toward its lowest point, and toward the palace that the people of Siena built for themselves.