Burn, Bruno, burn!

Of roasted heretics, squinty-eyed painters, and puff pastry croissants

Yes, I’m still at home, and sometimes I get so frustrated because of that I end up doing pointless things, such as making an ugly trailer for a movie that doesn't exist, starring Pedro Pascal as Giordano Bruno, the allegedly heretical Renaissance philosopher who ended up 🔥flambé🔥 on 17th February 1600, courtesy of Holy Roman Church:

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Giordano Bruno’s public execution was held in Campo de' Fiori, which is a tourist-famous square here in Rome that once was a meadow (hence its name, as “campo de’ fiori” literally means “field of flowers”) and then became one of the favourite places where the Inquisition (not the Spanish branch of the franchise, made even more infamous by Monty Python, but the Roman one: Suprema Congregatio Sanctae Romanae et Universalis Inquisitionis, aka the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition) used to literally rather than metaphorically roast people who didn't agree with them.

Ettore Ferrari, bas relief depicting Giordano Bruno’s trial

But what did Bruno exactly say to get the Church so mad at him? In his essay (in form of dialogue) De l'infinito, universo e mondi, he denied a bunch of doctrines of Catholicism, including the holy Trinity, claiming that God was everywhere and in everything — he was a pantheist. He confuted the Ptolemaic model (according to which the Earth was the centre of the Universe… big-headed, much?), embracing Nicolaus Copernicus’ theories, and also claiming that the Universe was infinite therefore it was impossible for it to have a “centre” — that’s Geometry 101 for you. On top of that, he had a penchant for esotericism and alchemy, all of which didn't sit well with pope Clement VIII and his posse. They could've just excommunicated him and called it a day, right? No, they wanted to make sure he couldn't spread his theories anymore, so they roasted him like a döner kebab.

Fun (…) fact: year 1600 also was a Jubilee year, just like 2025 will be…

Of course, albeit a little smoked, Giordano Bruno after his death became the symbol of free will and freedom of speech.

Nowadays the Inquisition no longer exists — or so they say… they’ve changed its name into Dicasterium pro Doctrina Fidei (Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith), and its headquarters are still in the Palazzo del Sant’Uffizio that's near the colonnade of St Peter’s basilica.

But no worries, because our current government is doing their worst to make sure we go backwards to those dark days — by passing a law that makes surrogacy a universal crime, for example. At the same time, they've cut tax credits for singles and childless couples (a bit like what what that dude did back in 1927 when he introduced the bachelor tax, what was his name… ah, yes, Mussolini. Ever heard of him?) — they could've taxed more the rich, but hahahahaha-NO. And they're also trying to make peaceful protesting a crime, even though Article 17 of our very own Constitution states: “Citizens have the right to assemble peaceably and unarmed. No previous notice is required for meetings, even when in places open to the public. For meetings in public places previous notice must be given to the authorities, who may forbid them only for proven motives of security and public safety”...

Jubilate, we're doomed!

Meanwhile…

…lo sai chi ti saluta tantissimo?

GUERCINO!

(now, “Guercino” usually isn't the answer to “lo sai chi ti saluta tantissimo?”, i.e. “do you know who is sending you their greetings?”… don't dare to answer “chi?”/“who?” to that question, as the counter-answer is usually a rude joke I won’t type here… 😅)

Ottavio Leoni, portrait of Giovanni Francesco Barbieri, aka il Guercino, 1623

A new exhibition, “Guercino e i Ludovisi” is opening on 30th October at Scuderie del Quirinale (it'll be on until 26th January 2025): back in 1621, Giovanni Francesco Barbieri, our lil’ squint-eyed man (that's what “guercino” literally means — nobody cared about political correctness back in the day…), arrived in Rome because he was bff with the once archbishop of Bologna, Alessandro Ludovisi, who by then went by the name of Gregory XV because he had just been elected pope.

Pope Greg’s papacy only lasted a little over two years, during which our little guercio friend painted left right and centre in Rome, most famously he decorated with a magnificent fresco, depicting the Dawn, the ceiling of Casino dell’Aurora…

Guercino, Aurora (1621)

…which is not a “casino” like the ones in Last Vegas, as that would be “casinò” in Italian, but a “casino” as in “small(er) house”, e.g. a cottage, a hunting lodge, a dépendance... As a matter of fact it is not a small anything because we’re talking about baroque architecture, nevertheless it was some sort of dependence (and nowadays the only building left) of Villa Ludovisi, the suburban retreat of the nepo baby of those days, cardinal Ludovico Ludovisi, i.e. pope Greg's nephew.

(aside: other than “small house”, “casino” in Italian can also mean one of the following:
• a mess: che casino! = what a mess!;
• a brothel.)

Anyway, of course that fresco won't be included in the exhibition because, duh, it's a fresco, you can't nonchalantly unpeel it from a ceiling just to exhibit it somewhere else! But we'll get to see a number of other works by Guercino up close, albeit out-of-context, including this astonishing depiction of the Crucifixion (“Cristo Crocifisso con la Vergine, Maria Maddalena, San Giovanni Evangelista, e San Prospero” — oil on canvas, 437cm x 250cm) which is altarpiece of Basilica della Ghiara in Reggio Emilia:

Well, I know by now you're expecting a recipe to appear here, but… have I already mentioned this is not a foodie newsletter? I'm sure I have. Heh.

So, since today I really can't be bothered to think about recipes to share, let's just say there once were two rolls of (supermarket bought) puff pastry in the fridge, so I cut it in long triangles/wedges, spread some Nutella on them, rolled them lengthwise, placed them on a baking pan lined with parchment paper, baked them for 18 minutes in the oven (preheated at 180°C/ ~355°F), and — ta-da! — here's a plateful of mini-croissants:

(yes, I do know that actual croissants are not made with puff pastry, but sometimes you just have to make do with what you have at hand, right? Plus, there's people in the world who cook spaghetti in milk, so please go and bother them!)

My Mum was quite happy with those. Well, at least for a couple of minutes, during her breakfast, then she went back to her default mode, which basically means complaining about —*gestures broadly*— everything.

Now you know whom I got that from.

You can also find me on:

• Instagram: @giorgiameschini

• Threads: @giorgiameschini

Moreover, coming soon:

• ✨Impossible interviews✨: a series of imaginary conversations with historical figures from all eras and from any place in the world (and possibly beyond).

• ✨La trilogie de Saint-Cloud✨: journal de voyage of a 17th century time traveller...

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