Spend just a short time wandering the cities and towns of Italy, and you will gain an appreciation for the seamless weaving together of art and public space. Spend three months intensively studying this commingling and producing art and your appreciation will remain intact, but you might be ready for a break. Such was the situation my four friends and I found ourselves in on a peerless Friday in November. Having just finished a course and anticipating our last, we took advantage of the lull in work to explore Cinque Terre (a network of five town and national park territory on the Italian coast). A rocky beach and gentle waves seemed the perfect setting for a weekend of refreshment. (Garrett Ames-Ledbetter and Anna Taylor participated in the Fall 2009 Orvieto semester; Anna writes this account of a simple but rewarding adventure.) 
We’d scarcely set foot on the beach, when we noticed that someone, taking advantage of the abundance of natural materials, had carefully positioned some ovular rocks, so that they balanced effortlessly on a huge boulder. They stood silently, a strange combination of wild impossibility and seeming naturalness. Being somewhat nerdily artistic our immediate response was to gleefully assume that Andy Goldsworthy had visited this very spot and graced it with one of his ephemeral creations.
Pleased, we settled down to enjoy the beach. But Garrett was restless. After examining the monuments he returned to the group with a proposition: “We should build something.” Not satisfied with a mere stacking of stones, he suggested something more daring—an arch. I accepted the challenge, and the two of us immediately began combing the beach for disk-like rocks and a suitable capstone. Spurred on by the knowledge that we were in the homeland of arch construction, we worked at assembling a framework to support the stones and at carefully positioning and securing the rocks forming the sides.
Stone by stone an arch emerged until at last we placed the keystone. Theoretically, we knew the arch should hold, but sitting there and contemplating removing the inner support structure, it seemed precariously feeble. With trepidation and considerable anticipation we began to remove the stones. The arch held! What wondrous satisfaction— the marvel of creation and the thrill of completion. 
Our efforts were not unnoticed. As we had been working a fellow American had been watching from afar. Inspired by our success he began to look afresh at the rocks around him, came and talked to us about art, and before leaving erected a modest column. This was marvelous, a clear example of the direct way in which art inspires more art. We were delighted. We stayed and watched the sun set through the arch and returned to our hostel.
The next evening, after a day spent hiking and exploring, we returned to the beach to find the arch still standing. More astonishing, however, was the proliferation of small rock sculptures that had appeared on the beach. As we sat and watched, an interesting phenomenon emerged. People strolling onto the beach would inevitably notice the arch. Intrigued they examined it. Glancing around they noticed the original balancing rocks that had inspired us, and their faces lit up, their gestures became more emphatic, as they made the connection between the works. Then as they settled down on the beach they would begin to play with the rocks around them, eager to play and create.
Our arch is fallen. Before we left that day an excited toddler gave it a running embrace and it toppled, a bit overcome by the exuberance. We had delighted in an afternoon of dabbling, but the lesson we learned endures.
Art that successfully inhabits space, be it through materials, placement, or subject, is not wasted. Its presence invokes response; it invites participation and experimentation. It links us together in a joyful cycle of appreciation, collaboration, and creation.
GARRETT & ANNA'S ARCH Cinque Terre November 2009
PORTRAITS by CHRISTINE SULLIVAN
Christine Sullivan (Fall 2007, Taylor University) is one of several Orvieto alumni who have become professional photographers. When she returned in the Fall of 2009 as the program's residence assistant, she created a portfolio of PORTRAITS. Here's our program directors Matthew and Sharona Doll -- and baby Chiara.
Michele Lardani is the oldest son of Alessandro and Emanuela Lardani, two of our closest friends in Orvieto.
Sister Michelina is one of the dozen nuns from the order of the Adorers of the Blood of Christ who live in one section of monastery San Paolo. Suor Michelina has spent most of her 80-some years in this convent (and at times she acts like she owns the place!).
Sergio Luciana is Emanuela Lardani's father. Emanuela's parents live on their farm above the little country village of Allerona, not far from Orvieto. In November they invited us to spend a day helping them harvest their olive crop.
Silas is the oldest of Matthew and Sharona Doll's three children
Bishop Scanavino, or Padre Giovanni, is the bishop of the Roman Catholic diocese of Orvieto. He loves our students and pays a pastoral visit each semester to bless our work.
Megan Ott goes to Azusa Pacific University. We loved hearing her stories about her family's dairy farm in central California.
Miki Hall goes to Westmont College, and loves the natural world. For some of us, Orvieto is as close to nature as anything we've experienced, but sometimes Miki just needed to get out into the country.
Christine Marineau goes to Gordon College. Her smile brightens everyone.
Professor Skillen and Sergio, buddies
Alexa Singleton goes to Westmont College
Marcela Uribe Vanegas is one of the two girls from a convent school in Medelin, Colombia who joined our semester.
TRAVELING with DAN NYSTEDT
Dan Nystedt (Spring 2004, Gordon College) is one of several Orvieto alumni who have become professional photographers. He made a great set of photos about places in Italy that students can easily visit on the weekends.
Positano on the Amalfi coast south of Naples
The Amalfi coast
The Grand Canal in Venice
Evening across the Grand Canal
The Rialto Bridge, the central of the three bridges that cross the Grand Canal
High water on Piazza San Marco in Venice
Pigeons waiting to be served
Yes, an hour's ride in a gondola is expensive, and only tourists really use them, but ...
Jessica enjoys her ride
The Duomo in Florence with a telephoto from across the Arno river
Baptistry, Belltower, and Duomo in Florence
Evening along the Arno River
Piazza of the Basilica of St. Peter in Rome
Inside St. Peter's Basilica
The Colliseum at Night
Inside the Colliseum
Up in the hills south of Assisi is the town of Spoleto, often known to Americans only as the site of the famous summer music and opera festival. But hidden behind the fortress above the old city is a canyon traversed by one of the great marvels of medieval engineering: this aqueduct that once brought water from the mountain streams to the city.
Or, you can just stay close to home and take a walk in the country -- and still have a great time with friends.
AUTUMN in ORVIETO
In September we help friends with vineyards to pick their grapes. The grape harvest is called the Vendemmia. Here's Jean Claire Cheveallier.
Sometimes we pick grapes for the Picciolini family in their vineyards above the little town of Monterubiaglio. Paolo Picciolini explains the types of grapes and teaches us how to snip off the bunches correctly. (Peter Whitten photo)
Emanuela Lardani through the grape leaves (Peter Whitten photo)
Paolo on the tractor, bringing out the wagon which we load with grapes (Peter Whitten photo)
Paolo says we can be proud of our work (Peter Whitten photo)
Alessandro Lardani and his dad Giacomo, thirsty after the morning's labor. Then the Picciolini's invite us into the big shed for an enormous country dinner together. (Peter Whitten photo)
After the grapes are picked and the vine leaves turn yellow, the countryside is like Sting's "fields of gold." (John Skillen photo)
There's Orvieto and the profile of the Duomo in the background. (Christine Sullivan photo)
In November we help Emanuela Lardani's father pick his olives
The olive grove (Christine Sullivan photo)
John Mirisola keeps us singing while we pick grapes (Christine Sullivan photo)
Michele Lardani having fun with the students on his grandaddy's farm (Christine Sullivan photo)
Alexa Singleton playing with the dogs during a rest from picking. (Christine Sullivan photo)
Professor Skillen discovering his inner child (Christine Sullivan photo)
Angela Whitmore moves the ladder to get to the highest branches (Christine Sullivan photo)
The olives in Umbria are used only for pressing into olive oil, not for eating. (Christine Sullivan photo)
Then the feast together. Sergio and Marissa lay down long planks over saw horses, put out the table cloth, and out comes the pasta, the home-made sausages, and the wild boar stew -- Sergio shot the boar himself -- and their own wine. (Christine Sullivan photo)
Sergio, Hannah, and Alexa are happy and satisfied (Christine Sullivan photo)