Ten minutes east of the Signoria, Santa Croce is the Franciscan answer to the cathedral: vast, barn-like, begun in 1294 on the edge of the city, and filled with the people who made both the Renaissance and the Risorgimento. Along the right wall, in the Bardi and Peruzzi chapels, Giotto's frescoes of the life of St Francis strip away Byzantine flatness and give you figures with weight, gesture and grief — the moment European painting starts to look at real bodies in real space. In the first cloister, Brunelleschi's Pazzi Chapel is a small, perfect lesson in proportion and grey-and-white stone. Then come the graves: Michelangelo, Machiavelli, Galileo, Rossini. Dante's monument stands among them with an empty tomb, because he died in exile at Ravenna in 1321 and never came home, while his imposing statue watches over the square outside. Look too for the leather school tucked into the convent, training bookbinders and leatherworkers on this site for generations. And when you reach the museum, remember the Cimabue crucifix that hung in the nave until the Arno flood of 1966 swept through the church — the water line is a reminder of how close Florence came to losing all of this.
Notes
Buy your ticket at the door or online (last admission is at 17:00, Monday to Saturday), and leave time for the cloisters and the museum — the church alone undersells the visit. Shoulders and knees covered, as in every Florentine church, and voices low, because this is an active place of prayer as much as a monument.