Friday, February 17, 2012

The Folks Who Live On The Hill



 The town of Montepulciano in southern Tuscany reeks of affluence stronger than the garlic coming from its many little restaurants.  There is wine everywhere.  Long caves going deep into the hill selling the local Super Tuscan, Vino Nobile di Montepulciano.  And with this Vino Nobile begins the story of the Irish Embassy to the Holy See.

The name of the Nobile wine comes from the family who ruled Montepulciano and had their Roman residence on the highest hill within the old walls of the city.  The Villa Spada. 

Supporters of the Catholic wave across Europe, the Nobiles welcomed O’Neill and O’Donnell after the Flight of the Earls and the two Irishmen are buried further up the Janiculum hill at the Church of San Pietro.

For ten days in June of 1849 the Villa Spada became the centre of world attention as Garibaldi and his red shirts made their last ditch, heroic stance against the French as he fought, rather ironically, against the rule of the Vatican.   

Nearly 100 years later in June 1946 the Villa Spada came up for sale, right at the time the Irish Government was looking for a new Embassy to the Vatican.  The Villa Spada was perfect except it was well over budget. Still, De Valera wanted it and with the assistance of some U.S fundraising the Villa Spada was purchased in New York in February 1947.

Combining this historical significance, the huge Catholic influence over the Irish Government and the ‘great listening post’ arguments we have heard recently, one can see how important a role the embassy has played.  And yet, these really are historic, almost sentimental arguments.  There have been few greater steps towards secularism than Enda Kenny’s decision to close the embassy to the Vatican.  And surely that move is a good thing.


But there is one great loss and that is the loss of an embassy to a higher ideal.  We had an embassy to a spiritual code, an embassy to a belief system if you like.  At a time where our country is rapidly turning from a community into an economy, it is a shame to ditch that without replacing it with something else.  We need an embassy to a higher value. We need an embassy to the arts, to culture, to the intellect.  We need Ambassador Heaney to move to the Villa Spada.  And we need it now.


And then, when the IMF threatens us with further humiliation we will write them a poem.  The bonfire of the bond holders will be a huge tapestry by Louis Le Brocquy.  The grey suits in one corner will be balanced by a startlingly yellow Basil Blackshaw in the far corner.

Villa Spada can lead us back to a time when a new poem by Derek Mahon was more important than anything Angela Merkal has said.  Ever.

So let’s close the fridge door on cold cheap German beer and let a bottle of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano breathe a bit.  Enjoy the colour and the nose and the rich complexities of its flavours.  Take a long drink and drift away to the Villa Spada.  Van Morrison is tuning up out in the warm evening sun on the veranda.  It would be a shame to miss him.

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