May is traditionally the time of the year in Naples when everything is open: all the royal palaces, museums, archaeological sites, and many of the otherwise difficult to visit, obscure churches and bits and pieces of ancient, medieval, and Spanish Naples. The streets are crawling with tourists holding maps upside down and even many locals setting out to explore their own city, having duped themselves into thinking that they need no maps. I set out to see if everything really was open and chose a place I had never been inside of: the Church of the Girolamini, one block from via Duomo and the cathedral of Naples. Alas, "everything" has to be downgraded to "almost everything."

The Girolamini, with is massive white marble facade, was not open to visitors. It is, I think, the largest closed church in Naples--or, at least, the most spectacular closed church in Naples. The main church, itself, is one block west of via Duomo on via dei Tribunali, thus, in the heart of the historic center of the city. In a city full of medieval and Baroque churches and monasteries, the premises that contain the church of the Girolamini constitute one of the most supremely important "religious areas" in the history of the city. As you stand looking at the church, directly in back of you, as a matter of fact, stands another closed church--the much smaller Santa Maria della Colonna, from the late 1500; it was the nucleus of one of the original music conservatories in Naples, home to composer Giovan Battista Pergolesi.

The complete grounds of the Gerolamini include not only the large church in front of you, but the vast monastic complex around the corner and directly across the street from the cathedral. Church and monastery are the result of construction from the 1590s on land donated to the disciples of St. Philip Romolo Neri (1515-1595) founder of the religious order known as the Congregation of the Oratory. The church is, thus, also known as San Filippo Neri. The church and monastery have undergone dramatic renovation through the centuries; the facade of the church, for example, is the work of Ferdinand Fuga, the great Neapolitan architect of the 1700s. The church is closed simply because it was structurally unsound, having been badly damaged by bombing in 1943. According to shop owners who live right next to it, it has been closed for "at least 30 years." Written descriptions of the church claim it is undergoing "extensive repairs."

You don't really need to get into the church to appreciate what a treasure it is. Mounted high up on the facade by the twin belfries are statues of saints Peter and Paul (top photo), the work of Giuseppe Sanmartino, most known for his haunting sculpture of The Veiled Christ, on display a few blocks away at the Sansevero Chapel. The ornate interior of the church is a repository of Neapolitan Baroque art, including works of Beinaschi and Solimena. During restoration, a least some of the items have been moved to the adjacent monastic grounds for safekeeping.

After staring at the closed church for a while, I walked around the corner to the entrance of the monastery, purportedly the home of an impressive library and art gallery. It was open, and from within the grounds you can look up and see scaffolding high up on the dome of the church. Someone is up there working and restoring, working and restoring. The courtyard, itself, is a delight (second photo)--quiet, lush green, and totally isolated from the outside world. One is reminded of Heine's remark that he, a Jew, would go into Catholic churches in Germany because they were perfect for getting away from the oppressive summer's heat! In Naples, if you are oppressed by noise and traffic (and if you aren't, there is something wrong with you), you can walk into any number of monastery grounds and simply sit there and be alone.

The Girolamini library and art gallery have had a similar checkered history of being open/closed to the public. At least for now, the art gallery is open. It is up one flight of stairs in the monastery; the windows overlook the main street, via Duomo, and face directly onto the main entrance of the cathedral, itself. The gallery is relatively small but holds one of the most important collections of Neapolitan art, works running from the late 1400s to the 1700s, including works of Solimena, Giordano and Ribera.

Except for the caretakers--busily engaged in watching work on the cathedral across the street--I was the only person in the gallery.