The Eternal Frame
He was stuck–dumbstruck, really. This was not what he was expecting, and his emotions had overtaken his wonder. Less than thirty minutes ago, he was in extreme unction, his life on a knife’s edge. Wandering those tight dark alleyways, surrounded by all this solidity, the sense of weightlessness unnerved him. It was already replaying in his mind as he stood in this room, as he knew it would for the rest of the life he now had had given back to him. How if his foot had slipped one bit off of that edge he would have been smashed to smithereens. It chilled him to his bones, yet he couldn’t decide if it was from his slim escape, or the shock of the explosion of space, the sliver of sky, the framed glimpse of the heavens.
So it was that he fully understood her emotions when she stepped foot into The Pantheon for the first time. It did not require that she feel that she had cheated death; she simply felt the awesome power of this perfect volume. Like that cavern, the oculus admitted a single shaft of light: here it was not an accident of erosion, but the intentional introduction of the dome’s designers. It slashed across the space, alighting on the concave walls of the monumental cylinder. Transfixed, it became the one marker of the passage of time, of seconds, minutes, hours and eons.
He crawled around the outside, looking for clues of the compromises he had learned of. He was always irked that the portico was ill-proportioned, and there it was, the traces of how a smaller portico had been grafted on after the ship with the grander columns had sunk somewhere down the Nile. How the builders had to go down to the Rome Depot to pick up some other columns in order to meet the deadline of Agrippa’s coronation. She was uninterested, and dragged him back through the black anteroom and into the perfect sphere of space.
The memory rushed back at him, like a freight train plowing through the piazza. In an instant he was exploring the lava caves of Mt. Suswa in Kenya again, miles from civilization. He could feel his toes tickling the edge of the precipice, loose rocks tinkling down the cavern, their echoes sending signals of infinity as their journey found no bottom to the void that yearned to swallow him whole and steal his life, his promise, his ambitions, his sins and sacraments. The floor of the cave had given way, and he of the seven was the sacrifice. His instinct to reach for any crack and the narrowest of ledges were all that stood between him and his end.
His companions had grasped him, pulling him out of the gaping maw. It was only when they happened upon that sun-stroked cavern that the heaviness really hit him.
Like it was hitting him now, inside The Pantheon. It is easy to be lazy about our lives in the minutes and minutiae of the daily grind. Here in this perfect room, he couldn’t help but think in lifetimes and eons, of the second chance he had gotten, and how, at this moment, holding the love of his life and cradled by his passion, he was one with eternity.
A perfect room, that reminds you of how precious and fragile life is. A fitting place for #7.
I do hope that now you will grace us with other buildings, interest us and tease us with glimpses, so that we want to go and experience them for ourselves.
For now, I will hand it off to Andra….I have insidiously influenced her views on architecture, so I know you are in good hands.
Hear, hear: this final was the most dramatic expression of the perfection a building can express, and I love a good yarn attached to a place.
I will say thank you properly later, MTM, but your seven posts have been a fabulous ride. thank you, and to Andra for sharing you so generously.
Someday soon I expect Andra to write her own piece on The Pantheon.
Great piece. MTM, if a little dramatic for my early morning cup of coffee. I’m now in the position of hat eating, having originally sneered at the idea of 7 wonders and now finding myself converted. Thoroughly enjoyed it all – thanks.
Sometimes I can be a bit evangelical about architecture…sorry.
You will have to tell us more about the Kenya near death experience, was not aware of that.
I thought I just did…
You said freight train! But, of course, you knew I would have to mention that.
And for once, for one sad fleeting moment, I agree with Lou. Would love to hear more about your Kenyan experience. For some reason the place has always captivated my imagination. Maybe the cradle of life?
Buy me a Tusker and I’ll tell all you want.
A Tusker? That sounds dirty…..
MTM, thank you for the wonderful series but I guess we’re stuck with Andra again ;>)
Stick with her and you will be rich beyond belief.
I’ve really enjoyed this post and the whole series.
Thank you for reading.
I love the way it feels like this guy’s life has come full circle in architecture.
Once bitten, architecture has a way of infecting one’s word view.
OH. It’s nonfiction. Wow.
“Perfect volume”–conveys the sense of wonder. There is more to this story, and maybe someday you’ll share it, but this is such a dramatic and exceptional end to what has been a really enjoyable tour! Debra
Thank you for reading and commenting…it has been a fun ride, but I am happy to cede the blogs back to their rightful owners.
Dear MTM, thank you for taking my hand and leading me on this journey to architectural wonders of space and time, of volume and tracery. I’ve learned so much and I’m seeing now with eyes newly attuned to wonder. Peace.
You are welcome, and thank you for your kind words.
Oh, a perfect finale! and one I’ve actually visited! A wonderful essay and a fitting reminder of so much. Thanks for each of these. I’ve had my world expanded so much since “meeting” Kate and Andra, and what a treat you’ve given us this last week.
I have even more respect for how they both manage to entertain and enlighten us every day.
Being thrown “off balance” is unnerving ~ it’s wonderful when we regain our footing . . . just in the nick of time.
As I finished looking at the photos, I thought . . . And Now Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming. Then I came here and read the title of Andra’s next post.
All that was missing was me bowing to her as she re-enters the stage.
Thank you for your fascinating stories, and for bringing old structures to life thru their back stories.
A fitting finale and prefect tribute to the ‘prefect room’! One I have visited and where I felt just as overwhelmed as you describe. Many many thanks for showing us around your seven wonders, I enjoyed each and every one.
Ah, MTM, such a romantic. What are our passions without our true loves by our sides. We can write and admire, but without the depth and profundity that love teaches us. Architecture to the Divine.