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The Tufts Daily
Where you read it first | Sunday, December 22, 2024

Cover My Treks: God’s humble abode

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The legacy of mankind is distilled into the grand architectural wonders constructed by the many nameless, through the passing of seasons and dynasties. In the grand course of history, religion seems to be the resilient constant that triumphs over the transience of human regimes. My lack of religious affiliation doesn’t keep me from marveling at the grandiosity of the architecture, unfazed by the unstoppable currents of time.

I don’t think anyone would be prepared to be in such proximity to the Duomo di Milano. The Duomo, meaning cathedral in Italian, is situated in the city center of Milan, from which streets radiate outward like the beams of the sun. The Duomo displays classic Gothic architecture, with over 100 skeleton-like spires shooting upward, and marble coated with an off-white hue. As I circled the Duomo, I struggled to stay grounded — the perfection of the silhouette in front of a clear blue sky made it look like a green screen from all angles with one exception.

To contextualize what I’m about to say, the Duomo di Milan was consecrated in 1418, but due to political unrest and a lack of funding, it is still under construction today, almost exactly 600 years later. In recent years, Samsung (yes, the Korean telecommunications conglomerate) has sponsored the renovation of the Duomo. Its generous contributions come at a price: A giant Samsung LED screen displaying Samsung advertisements hangs in front of the scaffoldings. The extreme mismatch between the electronic screen with vibrant animations about the new Samsung Galaxy phone that illuminates the surrounding areas into the night and the centuries-old Duomo that stands in the darkness behind the screen like a silent, jaded giant doesn’t quite convey the experimental fusion of the old and the new, of culture and technology. Rather, the use of the Duomo as a prime advertising location is an uncomfortable reminder of the clash between cultural conservation and digital marketing, and the use of historical sites for modern profits.

If you take a step back from the Duomo, you’ll notice that you are also standing in the center of a shopping plaza that extends into the surrounding blocks, exhibiting everything from high-end brands to street carts. The domed indoor mall, Galleria Vittorio, attracts tourists hoping to capture the iconic Instagrammable portraits. Outside of the Duomo’s front gate, you can see children playing with a herd of pigeons but, upon a closer look, you notice scammers shoving pieces of corn into children’s hands to feed the pigeons, scheming 50 euros from their guardians’ pockets. Amid the bustling commercial center with hustlers and consumers, the Duomo is the one building that stands out. The Duomo has gone from the local center of religious service to a historical landmark that boosts consumption. Its identity has long been interwoven with Bulgari, Uniqlo and Starbucks Reserve, and its face is now stamped with a Samsung advertisement. The Duomo’s construction has taken place over almost six centuries and is still ongoing. Its identity is no longer confined to the religious purposes it set out to achieve. In the day and age when the collaboration between the Louvre, Hokusai and many other emblems of culture and history with name brands prevails, is the Duomo’s participation in the modern market inevitable?