First and foremost, I want to extend my heartfelt thanks to all those who supported me before and during this journey. This immensely fulfilling experience would have not been possible without the constant encouragement, generosity, and kind words from all those around me. I am incredibly grateful to be surrounded by such unwavering support from my family, friends, and faculty at Northeastern.
What follows is a reflection on the rich cultural layers I encountered during my time in Sicily. This review examines how regional identity, Sicily’s ties to mainland Italy, and the island’s history of conquest, coexistence, and exchange have shaped its architecture, memory, and daily life.
Regional differences within Sicily are strongly reflected in how cultural identity is expressed and how historical narratives are preserved. On the eastern side of the island, particularly in Siracusa and Taormina, there is a clear emphasis on preserving and promoting Greek and Roman heritage, supported by public funding, tourism infrastructure, and educational outreach. Monumental sites such as ancient theaters and temples are not only well maintained, but actively integrated into the cultural and economic identity of the region through tourism.
In contrast, the western part of the island, with the exception of Agrigento, seemed to place less emphasis on showcasing and maintaining its historical sites. While this makes sense for smaller towns who lack resources and infrastructure to support large scale tourism, I was intrigued to why a historical gem like Palermo neglected the preservation and promotion of its historical layers.
It is undeniable that western cities have traces of Arab influence, specifically in architecture, urban layout, and even culinary traditions. Although several of the visible Arab architectural traces have disintegrated or are masked by layers of urban growth, the Arab legacy is still strongly reflected in the lived environment and daily rhythms of life.
The contrast between east and west supports my original hypothesis that Arab influence is more organically preserved in smaller western towns, while Greek and Roman legacies are institutionally maintained in the more urban and touristed eastern centers. The result is a cultural landscape where identity is shaped not only by history, but by which histories are chosen to be emphasized and which are left to survive.
After visiting dozens of architectural sites across the island, it is evident that the layered history of conquest and cultural exchange in Sicily is reflected in its architecture. From the early Greeks to the Romans, Arabs, Byzantines, Normans, and later the Spanish, the island is a treasure chest of layered influences, each leaving a distinct mark on its landscape and culture. These stylistic integrations were largely intentional, particularly during the Norman period of the 11th and 12th centuries. The Normans not only tolerated but actively embraced the cultures of who they conquered. In particular, King Roger II was known for commissioning Arab artisans and Byzantine mosaicists to design palaces, churches, and chapels. This led to the emergence of the distinct Arab-Norman style, most notably seen in the Cefalu Cathedral, Palazzo dei Normanni, Chiesa di San Cataldo, and the Palermo Cathedral. This harmonious style blends Islamic geometric ceilings, Byzantine mosaics, and Greek and Roman forms, serving as a tangible representation of cultural immersion.
Over the course of my travel, I realized that several monuments were built over existing structures or ruins. In most cases, this was likely driven by the practical convenience of reusing foundations, materials, or strategic locations instead of a deliberate intent to preserve the earlier sites. While elements from prior cultures were often incorporated into new buildings, this integration was usually aesthetic or functional, rather than motivated by preservation. Nonetheless, these layered constructions inadvertently created a rich architectural brochure, where traces of past civilizations remain embedded within later forms.
It is undeniable that the Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Normans, and later the Spanish left lasting and visible imprints on Sicilian cities. In many ways these cultural layers coexist beautifully, especially through the island’s architecture, where design elements from different eras have been woven together to form a distinctly Sicilian identity.
While all the locations I visited were magnificent in their own right, one city that I found perplexing was Palermo. Despite being the capital, its astonishing layered beauty was often masked by overcrowded streets and urban decay. Walking through the city, it felt as though extraordinary historical sites were hidden in plain sight, tucked behind crumbling buildings, covered by tangled vegetation, and often marked only by a small, weathered stone plaque. Unlike eastern cities such as Catania or Siracusa, which have invested heavily in tourism and preservation, Palermo offers its wonders without polish or pretense. At times, it felt as though I was stumbling past monuments of immense historical value without fully realizing it, simply because they were obscured by residential buildings, traffic, and neglect. While certain parks are incredibly well kept with decorative fountains and statues, much of inner city Palermo felt frozen in time. The city felt overwhelmed, underfunded, and, in many ways, underappreciated.
During my stay, I had the opportunity to speak with a few locals, including my hotel host and a kind waiter at a nearby trattoria. When I asked for their thoughts on Palermo, both expressed a love-hate relationship with the city they call home. They recognized its deep beauty and rich history, but were also candid about its crumbling infrastructure and the lack of government support. They agreed that eastern cities have done more to prioritize tourism and cultural preservation, whereas Palermo adopts more of a "take it or leave it" attitude.
What surprised me most was their response to the influx of immigrants, particularly from North Africa. Rather than resentment, they shared a sympathetic view. While acknowledging that the scale of migration has outpaced what local authorities can manage, they pointed to governmental mismanagement, not immigration itself, as the root problem. They argued that poor allocation of resources has left Palermo’s streets dirty, public services strained, and infrastructure lagging behind cities like Florence or Milan. This disparity also reflects broader economic differences between Sicily and the mainland, where agriculture dominates industry on the island while financial and political resources are concentrated on the mainland.
Despite these challenges, the warmth and openness of these individuals served as a symbol of Sicilian culture itself. Sicily has been shaped by waves of migration, conquest, and coexistence. Different cultures have come, gone, and blended into a complex and multifaceted identity. Today that tradition continues, welcoming new cultures and people into the ever evolving story of the island.
Sicilian Baroque architecture can be seen as a partial synthesis of the island’s earlier Greek, Roman, Norman, and Arab influences. Emerging in the wake of the devastating 1693 earthquake, Baroque architecture in Sicily was part of a broader European movement, yet its regional expression reflects Sicily’s layered cultural past.
One could argue that Sicilian Baroque is a not necessarily a direct stylistic lineage, but rather a unique adaptation. While the ornate facades, curved lines, and overt decorations are distinctly Baroque, the integration of local materials, urban topography, and historical layering reveals the island’s unique past. Baroque churches were often constructed on top of Greek or Roman foundations. This, combined with the Norman love of magnificence, Arab focus on pattern and geometry, and Roman sense of urban scale, subtly influenced the architectural style.
Sicily also experiences a geographical differentiation in the interpretation of its very own Sicilian Baroque. While Catania's Baroque is more unified, planned, and simple, Palermo's Baroque is ornate and flashy. Both are distinctly Sicilian, but they reflect the different historical and urban conditions of their cities.
Rather than continuing earlier styles directly, Sicilian Baroque reimagines and integrates them by absorbing centuries of influence and channeling them through the dramatic Baroque lens. It stands not only as an artistic flourish of its time, but as a living archive of Sicily’s cultural evolution.