Global Life: A Tribute to Art

Before we praise one the of the great Italian man-made wonders, let us wonder over the greatness of Italian Man, specifically the Italian man behind the car-rental desk at Bologna airport. While it's true he lost my reservation, had no cars left and appeared close to violence when I hinted that this was something of an inconvenience, eventually, after some sparkling conversation with my beautiful, Italian-speaking wife, he remembered that, yes, he did have one last vehicle, a 12-seat Mercedes van. This he handed over magnanimously and insisted that we visit his favorite wine bar, not 10 minutes from the airport. Only in Italy.

Our man in Bologna may be a broad type, but one of his cultural ancestors, Duke Federico da Montefeltro (1422-1482), was also quick to anger, though once you got to know him, he would build you a palace. Like all great Renaissance men, Federico was a liberal humanist with diverse interests. He also happened to be the most accomplished military strategist in 15th century Europe, and he used his immense profits as a freelance killing machine to turn Urbino, his hometown in the Marche region on Italy's eastern coast, into the Greenwich Village of the Quattrocento, a place where architects, soldiers, intellectuals and painters could commune under the umbrella of his largesse.

Federico's greatest achievement was the construction of the Palazzo Ducale. Today, the palace looms over Urbino much as it did then, like a giant yellow-brick wedding cake, but what's notable is what's missing. Every contemporaneous castle in

Italy had a moat to ward off invaders, but Federico didn't need one. He was that kind of powerful. Urbino is now a university town with a population of just 15,000, and maneuvering through its narrow, walled streets takes about five minutes, even in a van the size of Pavarotti. We entered the palace and immediately realized that this was not just another of the extravagantly fussed-over behemoths that dot Italy like diners on Route 66. Standing in the Cortile d'Onore, with its perimeter framing a perfect square of sky, you feel the exuberance of Renaissance design, the mix of simple geometric forms with impossible parabolic flourishes, like the vaulted ceiling. You also feel the duke. A lengthy inscription runs across the double cornice that trumpets Federico's unrivaled beneficence and undefeated record in battle. To paraphrase, it says, "I'm a special guy."