Pantheon

It is 8:30 on a Tuesday morning and I am walking down Via del Seminario in Rome. I have been in Italy for two weeks now and in Rome for the past two days, and still I cannot get over the amount of history this city has to offer.

I am scanning ahead, trying to get my first glimpse of what I have been wanting to see more than anything else in Italy. The Pantheon. For me, this is one of the greatest architectural buildings that has ever been built and ever will be built. Until this moment, I had only seen it in books, magazines, and online, and to finally see it in person is a moment I will never forget.

As I walk further down Via del Seminario, the road kinks and I get my first glimpse of the Pantheon. I see the corner of the building, those beautiful Corinthian columns, the portico, and the start of the domed roof it is so well known for. People walk past me chatting with each other, some with their heads down looking into their phones. I feel my heart beat faster. Finally, I am seeing the one building in the world that sums up what architecture is to me. It is not just a building. It is not just about visuals. It is about so much more. It is about feeling, smell, and something I cannot quite put my finger on, something that can only be understood by being in the presence of the building and experiencing it all at once.

As I get closer, I start to realize how large and incredible this building must have looked when it was first built over two thousand years ago. It would have been an even more amazing sight when the building had steps leading up to the bronze doors, now long gone as the ground level has built up around it over time. The granite columns soar above me, forcing my gaze upward to the wooden supports that are still visible and intact, continuing to support the portico to this day. My eyes drop to the enormous bronze doors that seal the building at ground level. Even though they may not be the original doors, they seem to fit perfectly and feel entirely in place.

I stop before entering, taking in not just the sight but the sounds. Outside, people chat loudly, but in contrast I can hear voices inside speaking in hushed tones. It is a hot summer’s day. The sun is shining and it is bright outside, but as I look in, the interior is dim and my eyes struggle to refocus. My gaze is immediately drawn to the oculus. This alone is one of the most intriguing aspects of the building. The concrete dome is the largest unsupported concrete dome in the world. Add to that the fact that a circular opening at its center allows sun, wind, and rain to enter, and it becomes one of the most remarkable structures ever built.

Moving inside and off to the right, I stop again, keeping my eyes fixed on the oculus and the light streaming into the space below. I watch the circle of light slowly move across the walls, just as countless people before me must have done. Transfixed, unable to move. My mind begins to wander and I cannot help but think about how this room must smell and feel when the weather turns and rain falls, or even during the rare chance of snowfall. I look around to see how the rain is managed. Only when I move closer to the center of the room and the tourists shift around do I notice the two small holes in the floor directly beneath the dome. Simple and elegant.

The interior is spectacular. A vast open space filled with nothing but people and the occasional red velvet rope keeping tourists back. As I walk around, I notice the tombs of many well known figures: Raphael Sanzio da Urbino and, sadly for her, his fiancée Maria Bibbiena, as well as Vittorio Emanuele II and King Umberto.

Thinking about the people and the history this building has witnessed makes me smile. I am now making my own history here. This moment will always be a part of me, and no one will ever be able to take away how I felt or what I experienced.