Eugi Gufo's siteEugi Gufo

The second attempt went well: I finally managed to see the monastery of the Certosa di Pavia. Last time, due to my own stupidity, I had had to settle for the nearby town with the same name, the report about which you have certainly already seen and read.

Older readers already know that I almost never publish photos of traditional architectural beauties: the internet, bookshops and newsstands are full of them, and the image quality is sometimes better than anything I could have produced myself. So this time as well I am including just one traditional photo:

Most of the construction work on the present Certosa was carried out between 1396 and 1465. Until 1782 the monastery was inhabited by 24 Carthusian monks (12 in the early years), who lived in total enclosure. Each of them had a two-storey cell.

The gallery onto which the entrances of the cells open (built along three sides of the square) is decorated with many different terracotta figures.

Each cell has its own address, identified by a letter. Next to every door there is access to a rotating hatch used for the transfer of food, raw materials to be worked on, and finished products. The mechanism is designed in such a way that the two people exchanging items cannot see each other.

The only furnishings still in place are a fireplace and the armarium — the lockable book cabinet, from which (for an unknown but effectively vandalistic reason) the door and the internal wooden lining have been removed.

As you can see, the cell has two floors that are not exactly small: by today’s standards, a family of three or four could live in it. And there is also a garden of about 100 square metres.

The fresco under the portico was too damaged to be identified. One interesting detail: the back of the fireplace opens onto the neighbour’s garden — those were fine days, when nobody cared about energy saving and efficiency.

I saw very few monks inside the Certosa. Each of them would start hysterically shouting «No photos!» as soon as they spotted a camera being held up and pointed at any detail whatsoever of the monastery. And since, according to the stories told by some of my friends, it was not always like this, I assume that nowadays the monks are also trying to make money from image rights. Well, in my opinion stingy people should be punished: on my way out I left no donation at all (while admission was free).

Leaving the religious buildings aside, the only other interesting object is the grape press that was used until 1911. It is made from a single piece of tree trunk (oak), measuring 10 × 0.8 × 0.8 metres.

On one side of the press there is a long screw (also made of wood), which is used to raise and lower it. I have no idea how they managed to preserve it in this condition up to the present day.

That’s it: now I can say that I have shown everything. Once you leave the monastery, you can take a quick walk around the area and go and see something else.