Cattedrale San Giorgio Martire
The faithful did not even have to step beyond the magnificent 12th-century porch to understand that salvation was a pretty dicey affair. In exquisite carvings above the entryway, the dead creep out of their tombs as an angel weighs sins and good deeds on a scale; as if to prove that the odds are against salvation, a devil mischievously tugs on the evil side so it skews toward sin. The saved, gloriously crowned and robed, proceed toward Heaven, where they are welcomed into the lap of Abraham; the naked damned slouch down to Hell to be tormented by sneering Devils. In the vast interior, redone in dark baroque style after an 18th-century fire, a fresco by Guercino (“the squinter”) portrays the martyrdom of St. Lawrence. When Roman authorities demanded that Lawrence, an early church deacon, turn over ecclesiastic treasures, he brought them the poor, saying "Behold in these poor persons the treasures which I promised to show you.” As punishment Lawrence was tied to a spit and burned over a roaring fire. After the good-natured saint roasted for a time, he allegedly said, “I’m well done, turn me over,” and the wisecrack has earned him a place as patron of chefs and cooks. The cathedral museum, housed in the former San Romano church and monastery opposite the church, is well stocked with works by Ferrara’s leading 15th-century painter of the Este court, Cosmé Tura. Most arresting among them is “St. George and the Princess,” an especially intense portrayal of Ferrara’s patron saint savagely trying to do away with a dragon to save a damsel in distress. The tale was a popular part of religious tradition as well as a romantic legend of chivalry, so it may well have satisfied both the Este’s spiritual and courtly aspirations.
The faithful did not even have to step beyond the magnificent 12th-century porch to understand that salvation was a pretty dicey affair. In exquisite carvings above the entryway, the dead creep out of their tombs as an angel weighs sins and good deeds on a scale; as if to prove that the odds are against salvation, a devil mischievously tugs on the evil side so it skews toward sin. The saved, gloriously crowned and robed, proceed toward Heaven, where they are welcomed into the lap of Abraham; the naked damned slouch down to Hell to be tormented by sneering Devils. In the vast interior, redone in dark baroque style after an 18th-century fire, a fresco by Guercino (“the squinter”) portrays the martyrdom of St. Lawrence. When Roman authorities demanded that Lawrence, an early church deacon, turn over ecclesiastic treasures, he brought them the poor, saying "Behold in these poor persons the treasures which I promised to show you.” As punishment Lawrence was tied to a spit and burned over a roaring fire. After the good-natured saint roasted for a time, he allegedly said, “I’m well done, turn me over,” and the wisecrack has earned him a place as patron of chefs and cooks. The cathedral museum, housed in the former San Romano church and monastery opposite the church, is well stocked with works by Ferrara’s leading 15th-century painter of the Este court, Cosmé Tura. Most arresting among them is “St. George and the Princess,” an especially intense portrayal of Ferrara’s patron saint savagely trying to do away with a dragon to save a damsel in distress. The tale was a popular part of religious tradition as well as a romantic legend of chivalry, so it may well have satisfied both the Este’s spiritual and courtly aspirations.
