classic style

I haven't called attention to many of what you might call "conventional" fountains in my Travelogues. You know what I mean: the standard sort of bowl fountains with modest flows, bronze sculptures and lots of patina. It's not that I haven't come across many that I like and admire during my travels; it's just that most of their stories seem a bit too similar. In the case I'll discuss here, however, there's an odd tale of déjà vu to tell: Back in July of 1978, while I was in Rome, I sought out fountains just about wherever I walked around the city because it was so unbelievably hot. Even small fountains were islands of coolness under the intense Italian sun. One of the fountains I encountered looked familiar when I crossed its path: The Fontana delle Tartarughe (seen above) wasn't s show-stopper by any means, but it was charming and cooling - and challenged me with the nagging sense that I'd seen it before. Set where there had once been a fountainhead for the Roman aqueduct system, this one had been built in the 1580s as the collaboration of an architect, Giacomo della Porta, and a sculptor, Taddeo Landini. The creatures that lent the fountain its name were added about 80 years later during a restoration project; they were by either Gian Lorenzo Bernini (which would be exciting, as he was a truly great artist and architect) or by Andrea Sacchi, a renowned painter (but not anywhere close to Bernini's league). My guidebook, long gone, doubtless told me all of this, and I'm certain the Bernini connection would've caught my eye. But what really grabbed me was the translation of tartarughe it offered: This was the "Fountain of the Tortoises" - and I had indeed seen it before, only the last time it had been in a small park on Nob Hill in San Francisco. About four years before my visit to Rome, I'd spent a week in San Francisco, walking up and down hills and exploring everything I could reach on my happy 18-year-old feet. I'd been to Nob Hill and had walked through Huntington Park and had seen what turned out to be a reproduction (seen just above) of the Fontana delle Tartarughe that had graced the space since 1954. It was all about the tortoises, both times. They looked a bit silly hanging out over the edge of the large fountain bowl, so when I saw them again in the same absurd posture in Rome years later, it triggered the memories and kicked up a curiosity that made me linger long enough that I checked my guidebook and saw that tartarughe translated to tortoise - and I knew in a flash where I'd see this before. You can go to Rome to see the original, but to me the San Francisco version has almost as much going for it - other that 450 years of art history atop 2,000 years of Roman hydrological history, of course. Cool in either place, I'd say.