The sounds of a woman chanting in
a side chapel blended with the less traditional hum of a hydraulic lift
one recent morning in St. Peter's Basilica.
Pilgrims were pressed against a barricade pointing cameras at workmen
strapped in climbing harnesses, teetering atop the baldacchino, the
massive bronze canopy over the main altar.
Twice a year, typically before Christmas and Easter, a select team of
Vatican workers breaks out its polyester dusters, vacuum cleaner and
bronze polishing fluid to clean Gian Lorenzo Bernini's 100-foot-high,
63-ton masterpiece.
Until recently, they had to climb up the twisting columns, hoisting
themselves with wooden pegs and ropes, using the decorative bronze
leaves and branches wrapped around the columns as toe perches and
handholds.
But recently they started borrowing an electric "spider lift" from the
office governing Vatican City State, said Maria Cristina Carlo-Stella,
chief of staff of the Fabbrica di San Pietro, the Vatican office in
charge of the basilica.
Now workers ride the boom lift to the top of the canopy, where they don
white hard hats, snap on rubber gloves and pull down dust masks before
they knot their safety lines around the neck of a 13-foot angel or the
chubby legs of the 8-foot-tall "putti" that adorn the top of the canopy.
Tradition isn't completely dead, though. During the latest cleaning Dec.
18, Emanuele Roncaccia pulled out a thick length of rope from which
dangled a short narrow plank worn smooth from decades of use.
It turns out the bucket lift can't reach all the dusty niches and nooks
under the baldacchino, and the centuries-old method of rappelling and
circling round the capitals and columns with a duster in hand works
better than the more cumbersome lift.
With a safety line clipped to Roncaccia's back, workers helped connect
the thick rope to his body harness. He slid the wooden plank under his
backside, then launched himself carefully off the ridge of the top of
the canopy.
Four workers up top held both the rope and the safety line as he quietly
called out his next move. "Don't let me down too much," he cautioned.
"At first you're really scared because it's not something you do every day," he told Catholic News Service.
"But then you remember you're physically fastened to the church and
what could go wrong? Then you start only thinking about what you have to
do" and it gets easier.
Though he and his colleagues looked outfitted for an alpine expedition,
Roncaccia said their job is easier than being a mountain climber: "We
only have to go down, they have to go up."
Just a dozen men out of the 78-man corps of basilica workmen -- known as
"sanpietrini" (which might be translated as "St. Peter's Boys")-- are
tasked with the wall-crawling work of cleaning inside and outside the
basilica at dizzying heights.
The sanpietrini's supervisor, Andrea Benedetti, said he studied to be an
accountant, but his "passion" is wood- and metalworking. Having taken
courses in mountain climbing and skydiving, he said, made him all the
more qualified "to put myself at the service of the Fabbrica di San
Pietro, of the basilica, to go clean high places, high monuments."
Even after 17 years of climbing and cleaning the baldacchino, he said,
each time he goes up "is still like the very first time because each
time you're surprised by some new detail."
Workers in the past added their own special touch by etching their names
and the year they climbed the monument into the giant gilded globe that
tops the canopy.
The spiraling columns are especially replete with intricate details that
the untutored eye could easily miss, Carlo-Stella said, such as a
bronze rosary hanging off the base of one column as if someone
absent-mindedly left it behind.
"Bernini gives a playfulness to the piece" especially evident in the
large "putti" or cherubs playing with the papal keys and tiara on the
canopy's top, she said. Yet she noted that the canopy's magnificence is
meant to mark the most venerated place in the church -- the tomb of St.
Peter below -- and to highlight the altar where the pope, the successor
of Peter, celebrates Mass.
Roncaccia and Benedetti both said that the best part of their job is the
personal satisfaction they get after having done an important service
to the church for Christmas Eve, when television cameras are focused on
the pope under the baldacchino.
"Many of those cameras are high definition and they can see every
speck of dust," Roncaccia said. "We don't want the pope to look bad."