The Leaning Tower

My father had a life-long interest in the art and architecture of Italy, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa was a particular favourite.

But it wasn’t until he was in his late 60s that he was able to visit Italy. Work and family responsibility had prevented the opportunity for much foreign travel up to that point.

Having also had a life-long interest in photography, and a more recent dalliance with stereo photography, he was well equipped with cameras.

But this particular photo was taken by my mother, because if you look carefully you will see a figure on the fifth tier  — my father.

Later he recounted his experience to me: Having climbed nearly all the way to the top (presumably shortly after this photo was taken), he suddenly dropped down to his hands and knees thinking an earthquake was occurring and the tower was about to collapse — before realising it was the bells ringing above him, which were still in operation at that time. The leaning tower being effectively an elaborate campenile, or free-standing bell tower of the city’s cathedral.

By the time I get to Pisa I’m only about ten years short of the age my father was when he was there, and indeed it is a remarkable and impossible building. 

Of course I wanted to see it, and climb to the top, but it was also a kind of pilgrimage.

On the day of my visit the weather was disappointingly cold and wet, it being still only mid March.

Upon entering the tower my first surprise was that the tower is completely hollow, the staircases contained within the outer walls.  You can crane your head back and look all the way up this empty marble cylinder to the floor at the top of the tower. There are some instruments to monitor the angle of lean, which has now been stabilised.

Climbing the spiral staircases within the walls, first leaning one way, and then the other, was a very disorientating experience when you are used to buildings and staircases with walls in the perpendicular.

Inside the walls ascending the tower. I liked these  worn down marble steps by the sliding footsteps of countless thousands of visitors over hundreds of years, including those of my father.

The opening that my father posed in had been fenced off, no doubt in the interests of health and safety, and there was a safety barrier around the sixth tier, which I cannot see in the stereo photo above.

Beautifully detailed faces on the column capitals, each one different.