This last week has been slow and good. Not much out of the ordinary had happened until this weekend. One of Jana’s friends from Wheaton came, and so they and Jake and I went to Il Vin Caffe for a little bit. Last Saturday the stone carving professor from Gordon, Jim Zignorelli (commonly known as “Z”) went out with a couple of us in the hopes of hearing live jazz; unfortunately, it was more like garage band “blues.”
Yesterday was a pretty good, unusual day, though. A group of us went to Lake Bolsena for the day and had a good time relaxing in the sun and cold water. Then, last evening, was the Pallio, the annual horse races in Piazza del Popolo. A straight earthen track was laid down along the length of the piazza, with a gate, and stands erected on either side. First came the timed, single races. A rider thundered up from the bottom of the track, reached up at the gate to clutch a hanging white strap of leather, and then belted for a small barrel a little farther down the track. The run was valid if the rider was able to drop the leather strap into the barrel. There were two teams, red and blue. I was standing on the red side, and at first we were the underdogs by a large margin. Suddenly, however, we seemed to make it up, and I think that we won. After this came the doubles races, which seemed to not be timed. The concept of the race was the same, but these took longer because it was difficult for two horses to cross the starting line at the same time. I left before these races ended because it was late; a good thing, too, because it started to rain soon after I got back inside.
The rain continued today, which was a shame because it’s Pentecost. A tall cupola of sorts had been erected on the steps of the Duomo earlier this week, and then at twelve today a dove in a clear plastic tube was slid down a zipline into the cupola, starting at the roof of another church. Fireworks went off, and the dove was paraded around for a little bit. Right after, Scott Cairns, the recently arrived Bruce Herman (Gordon's art department chair) and I went to get a coffee at Scarponi's. It was great meeting Bruce, since I've admired his work for a while (some of you will remember my dismay that his painting, my favorite at Messiah, was moved to Kim Phipps' house this year!), and he and Scott and I had a good time conversing. Both are very friendly and interesting, in addition to being knowledgeable and experts in their fields. I've also had some good talks with Z, who very easily mixes with us students. These last couple of weeks are shaping up to be a good, solid end.
I recently finished Steinbeck's masterpiece East of Eden. It is one of the best things I've ever read...700 pages flew by. It was hard to pick up something after that, but I decided on Ian McEwan's Atonement. It actually is pretty good writing, and I'm enjoying it.
Tomorrow, Penn and Grace, Jana, Jake and I are going to eat at what is supposed to be one of the (if not the) best restaurants in town, La Palomba.
31 May 2009
22 May 2009
Long Overdue...Mi Dispiace
I realize that I have been unusually negligent with this blog recently. I think two weeks is more than enough time.
It’s a little difficult for me to remember now what has passed. I left off when I was about to go see the Buena Vista Social Club at the local theatre. The performance was excellent and enlightening, as that is one area of music into which I’ve not really delved.
That Sunday and last Sunday were spent in Christine Perrin’s apartment again, eating lunch with other friends and having good conversation. It was disappointing that she and Catherine needed to leave so soon, but I recognize how lucky I am that they will remain in my life even after being here, a gift that not many of the other students have. They came during a rough period of our group’s history, and especially for me; having them gave me a measure of reliable former context. That is a valuable feeling that cannot be reproduced or imitated by something that is not native to life back home, and it helped me strengthen and heal.
The week (two weeks ago) was the final period of the portrait painting course. During that time my eye really began to change, and even still I look at someone’s face and see how I would reproduce it with patches of color. I thought that I was not good at painting, and maybe that was good, maybe I would not have made the progress I did. But I love it now. In class, we painted Signor Ricetti, a local ancient portly man with a glorious white beard and weathered face. I love my painting, but I will need to finish some of the details when I return to the States. For my final independent project I painted Erin…it still needs work as well. She has an amazingly captivating face, and reproducing the look I wanted was a harder task than I expected.
Abby and I went to Rome last Saturday…it was a good trip, but there were some unfortunate occurrences that made it a very long, and in some cases, frustrating day. I kept getting us lost in the area around Piazza Navona, and there were some major fiascoes with the train schedule. Due to some misdirection, we were told that the only train we could take would depart from the Roma Tiburtina station (as opposed to the convenient one, Roma Termini), and that its only stop on the way to Firenze would be a half hour drive from Orvieto, and that it would be more expensive than the train we’d been planning to take. It turns out that there was another option, but we were not told about it, so we had to beg Laura Menichetti to come pick us up…at midnight. But the highlights of the day were great…wandering into small stores, a picnic in the Borghese gardens, exploring the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna (since Abby hadn’t seen any of it and I’d only seen the Cy Twombly exhibit), which has a pretty nice collection, and a visit to the Gagosian gallery to see an Anselm Kiefer sculpture show. Walking into that gallery felt like walking out of Rome and into a corner of Chelsea, which was a nice feeling.
This week began our travel writing course with the poet Scott Cairns. I love it. He’s a really down to earth guy who wears sandals, shorts, oxfords, and a pony-tail. His wife is a very lovely person who writes about food, which both of them love. He has excitedly discovered a taste for grappa, and proudly shows us when he gets a good bottle of it. But the course itself is wonderful because it is wonderful to be writing and reading again. Invisible Cities was a perfect warm-up to this class, and to reading Roland Barthes’ Empire of Signs, which is absolutely fantastic so far. The pace has been relaxed so far, and the work is completely enjoyable. Most classes this week, we have gone out into the town at some point to write sketches about the things we see and take in some sun…it’s a time of Orvieto that we had not been able to really see before.
Other than that, the days have been filled with more leisure activities…playing football on Thursday afternoons, trying a fragrant, 8 year Irish whiskey at a new enoteca, celebrating Jake and Lauren’s birthdays at a restaurant last night, Leonardo driving Erin, Jess and her sister and I to Lake Bolsena for an afternoon to swim and lie on the beach. That sort of thing. Summer has dropped onto this region suddenly, and it is hot and sunny perpetually, and life is fresh.
PS, Dr. Romaine from NYCAMS emailed me recently to let me know of the internship they selected for me for next fall...I will be working at the New Museum, on Bowery St. in Manhattan. Apparently it's one of the foremost contemporary art exhibition spaces in NYC, so I'm super psyched about it. Check it out.
PPS. My brother, Stephen, graduated last night. I wish I could have been there, but I'm really proud of him, and excited to see where his life will go. Please congratulate him if you see him!
It’s a little difficult for me to remember now what has passed. I left off when I was about to go see the Buena Vista Social Club at the local theatre. The performance was excellent and enlightening, as that is one area of music into which I’ve not really delved.
That Sunday and last Sunday were spent in Christine Perrin’s apartment again, eating lunch with other friends and having good conversation. It was disappointing that she and Catherine needed to leave so soon, but I recognize how lucky I am that they will remain in my life even after being here, a gift that not many of the other students have. They came during a rough period of our group’s history, and especially for me; having them gave me a measure of reliable former context. That is a valuable feeling that cannot be reproduced or imitated by something that is not native to life back home, and it helped me strengthen and heal.
The week (two weeks ago) was the final period of the portrait painting course. During that time my eye really began to change, and even still I look at someone’s face and see how I would reproduce it with patches of color. I thought that I was not good at painting, and maybe that was good, maybe I would not have made the progress I did. But I love it now. In class, we painted Signor Ricetti, a local ancient portly man with a glorious white beard and weathered face. I love my painting, but I will need to finish some of the details when I return to the States. For my final independent project I painted Erin…it still needs work as well. She has an amazingly captivating face, and reproducing the look I wanted was a harder task than I expected.
Abby and I went to Rome last Saturday…it was a good trip, but there were some unfortunate occurrences that made it a very long, and in some cases, frustrating day. I kept getting us lost in the area around Piazza Navona, and there were some major fiascoes with the train schedule. Due to some misdirection, we were told that the only train we could take would depart from the Roma Tiburtina station (as opposed to the convenient one, Roma Termini), and that its only stop on the way to Firenze would be a half hour drive from Orvieto, and that it would be more expensive than the train we’d been planning to take. It turns out that there was another option, but we were not told about it, so we had to beg Laura Menichetti to come pick us up…at midnight. But the highlights of the day were great…wandering into small stores, a picnic in the Borghese gardens, exploring the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna (since Abby hadn’t seen any of it and I’d only seen the Cy Twombly exhibit), which has a pretty nice collection, and a visit to the Gagosian gallery to see an Anselm Kiefer sculpture show. Walking into that gallery felt like walking out of Rome and into a corner of Chelsea, which was a nice feeling.
This week began our travel writing course with the poet Scott Cairns. I love it. He’s a really down to earth guy who wears sandals, shorts, oxfords, and a pony-tail. His wife is a very lovely person who writes about food, which both of them love. He has excitedly discovered a taste for grappa, and proudly shows us when he gets a good bottle of it. But the course itself is wonderful because it is wonderful to be writing and reading again. Invisible Cities was a perfect warm-up to this class, and to reading Roland Barthes’ Empire of Signs, which is absolutely fantastic so far. The pace has been relaxed so far, and the work is completely enjoyable. Most classes this week, we have gone out into the town at some point to write sketches about the things we see and take in some sun…it’s a time of Orvieto that we had not been able to really see before.
Other than that, the days have been filled with more leisure activities…playing football on Thursday afternoons, trying a fragrant, 8 year Irish whiskey at a new enoteca, celebrating Jake and Lauren’s birthdays at a restaurant last night, Leonardo driving Erin, Jess and her sister and I to Lake Bolsena for an afternoon to swim and lie on the beach. That sort of thing. Summer has dropped onto this region suddenly, and it is hot and sunny perpetually, and life is fresh.
PS, Dr. Romaine from NYCAMS emailed me recently to let me know of the internship they selected for me for next fall...I will be working at the New Museum, on Bowery St. in Manhattan. Apparently it's one of the foremost contemporary art exhibition spaces in NYC, so I'm super psyched about it. Check it out.
PPS. My brother, Stephen, graduated last night. I wish I could have been there, but I'm really proud of him, and excited to see where his life will go. Please congratulate him if you see him!
08 May 2009
Caravaggio + Zoo + Cy Twombly + Paint + Wine = The Past Week
I am writing this sitting in bed this Friday morning, listening to the Decemberists’ concert from SXSW this year, in which they played through the entirety of the new album. It sounds pretty decent, back more to their old style but harder. So far nothing stands out like some of the songs on The Crane Wife, but I’ll wait until I hear the studio album to make judgments.
Last week on Saturday a smallish group of us ignored the impending doom of the swine flu to brave a trip to Roma. We traveled with our director, Matt Doll, his wife Sharona, and his small children Silas, Ronan, and baby Chiara, because the main event of the day was to go to the zoo! It was a hot and humid day (it actually thunderstormed for half an hour while we were in the zoo) that started incredibly early, but it was well worth it. Matt and a sub-group of students took the early train so that we could see the Caravaggios that we missed last time – the St. Matthew cycle. My life is now complete! The Calling of St. Matthew is extraordinary, a very powerful painting. I was a little surprised at how much I loved the painting facing it on the opposite side of the chapel, the Martyrdom of St. Matthew. It is a very balanced painting compositionally, but also completely violent. The black emotion in the face and tensed and twisting body of the assassin begins a swirling vortex of fleeing figures and reaching angels. There is so little architecture in the painting, and the foreground is essentially a black pit. What struck me the most was how the assassin was set up as such an image of perversion through his act of wrenching St. Matthew’s outstretched arm away from grasping the olive branch of martyrdom that the angel is extending towards him.
Feeling utterly satisfied, we set out towards the zoo, which is contained in the Borghese gardens. It’s a fantastic feeling to now have some idea of what I’m walking past in Roma, knowing that there is a good caffe and here is the Ara Pacis and here is a good wine bar and now we are passing a church with Caravaggios or Michelangelos and we are not stopping to see them again. It is a city loaded with potential.
We had stopped at the open market in Campo del Fiori to assemble a picnic lunch (and eat the best cornetti I’ve had so far) before we quested for Caravaggio, and so we ate in the park after meeting up with the rest of the group at the zoo. Matt prepares the best food, and there were ancient hollowed out trees that we had fun climbing on.
The zoo was decent; the hippos were pretty sweet, and the monkeys were entertaining as always. The seals were not entertaining. The pens were kind of depressing, though, not very well constructed. It was still fun to wander around, though.
When we had about an hour left, I walked out of the zoo and down to the bottom of the hill, where resides the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna. Luckily I was able to get in for free since I am an art student, because my main intention (given my time limit) was to see the Cy Twombly exhibit that was going on there. I did not know before how much time he had spent in Italy; some of the painting had even been painted at Lake Bolsena, which is not far from Orvieto (we have plans to go there next weekend). The exhibit was alright, not every painting or drawing was really strong, but it was great seeing a body of his work again. I will be returning to Rome for a day next weekend as well (lake one day, Rome the next!) with Abby, and we’re going to go back to the museum and look at the rest of its offerings, as well as stop by the Gagosian gallery to see the Anselm Kiefer show (!).
With the exception of a great wine tasting in the convent last Sunday, the week was largely uneventful, mostly more painting. I am loving this class, and my painting skills have drastically improved over this short time. Catherine Prescott is wonderful. It’s also been great having the Perrins here, Christine and I have had some great conversations about everything. Yesterday in particular was a great day, we “finished” painting Elle Perrin (I’m very pleased with it so far) and played calcio/football/soccer at a local field for an hour or so in the afternoon. I then went down to the Perrin’s apartment to talk with them, which ended up being delightful and extending over dinner time.
Another highlight of yesterday was after dinner when Abby and I went to a highly recommended wine bar in town, Il Vin Caffe. They are serious about their wine there, and we decided to maybe splurge a little bit in the pursuit of la dolce vita. I had a red from Veneto (which was just ok), and Abby had a glass of Grechetto. This is one of the main grapes used in the white Orvieto Classico (the main wine of this area), and has a really tangy citrus taste, slightly bitter – it is the reason I like the Orvieto Classico. I like the pure Grechetto even better, because it is not sweet at all. I ordered a crostini plate with sweet tomatoes, oregano, and some small type of fish. Delicious. Abby and I shared a torta that was chocolate and apricot marmalade, and to compliment it we ordered a glass each of a dessert wine. This is not something I normally get; in fact, I’ve really only tried sips of it at different times in the past. We made the right choice in ordering it. Abby’s tasted (and smelled) like less viscous honey, and I ordered a local specialty – Muffa Nobile. It had been explained to me before that this is made (in a similar way to Canadian ice wine) by leaving the grapes on the vines past the normal harvest time. There is a type of “nobile mold” (muffa nobile) that they cause to slightly rot the grapes on the vines, which shrivels them and brings out the sugars – almost like making wine from raisins. It blew me away. The bouquet was delicious and complicated; there were scents that I had never smelled before. The taste was also wonderful, like apricots and caramel. I will do all I can to bring a bottle home.
Tonight I am going to see the Buena Vista Social Club at the local theatre, courtesy of Catherine Prescott. I’m excited because I’ve heard really great things about them, and they’re pretty famous. So that should be fun.
I think that is all for now. I love you all.
Last week on Saturday a smallish group of us ignored the impending doom of the swine flu to brave a trip to Roma. We traveled with our director, Matt Doll, his wife Sharona, and his small children Silas, Ronan, and baby Chiara, because the main event of the day was to go to the zoo! It was a hot and humid day (it actually thunderstormed for half an hour while we were in the zoo) that started incredibly early, but it was well worth it. Matt and a sub-group of students took the early train so that we could see the Caravaggios that we missed last time – the St. Matthew cycle. My life is now complete! The Calling of St. Matthew is extraordinary, a very powerful painting. I was a little surprised at how much I loved the painting facing it on the opposite side of the chapel, the Martyrdom of St. Matthew. It is a very balanced painting compositionally, but also completely violent. The black emotion in the face and tensed and twisting body of the assassin begins a swirling vortex of fleeing figures and reaching angels. There is so little architecture in the painting, and the foreground is essentially a black pit. What struck me the most was how the assassin was set up as such an image of perversion through his act of wrenching St. Matthew’s outstretched arm away from grasping the olive branch of martyrdom that the angel is extending towards him.
Feeling utterly satisfied, we set out towards the zoo, which is contained in the Borghese gardens. It’s a fantastic feeling to now have some idea of what I’m walking past in Roma, knowing that there is a good caffe and here is the Ara Pacis and here is a good wine bar and now we are passing a church with Caravaggios or Michelangelos and we are not stopping to see them again. It is a city loaded with potential.
We had stopped at the open market in Campo del Fiori to assemble a picnic lunch (and eat the best cornetti I’ve had so far) before we quested for Caravaggio, and so we ate in the park after meeting up with the rest of the group at the zoo. Matt prepares the best food, and there were ancient hollowed out trees that we had fun climbing on.
The zoo was decent; the hippos were pretty sweet, and the monkeys were entertaining as always. The seals were not entertaining. The pens were kind of depressing, though, not very well constructed. It was still fun to wander around, though.
When we had about an hour left, I walked out of the zoo and down to the bottom of the hill, where resides the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna. Luckily I was able to get in for free since I am an art student, because my main intention (given my time limit) was to see the Cy Twombly exhibit that was going on there. I did not know before how much time he had spent in Italy; some of the painting had even been painted at Lake Bolsena, which is not far from Orvieto (we have plans to go there next weekend). The exhibit was alright, not every painting or drawing was really strong, but it was great seeing a body of his work again. I will be returning to Rome for a day next weekend as well (lake one day, Rome the next!) with Abby, and we’re going to go back to the museum and look at the rest of its offerings, as well as stop by the Gagosian gallery to see the Anselm Kiefer show (!).
With the exception of a great wine tasting in the convent last Sunday, the week was largely uneventful, mostly more painting. I am loving this class, and my painting skills have drastically improved over this short time. Catherine Prescott is wonderful. It’s also been great having the Perrins here, Christine and I have had some great conversations about everything. Yesterday in particular was a great day, we “finished” painting Elle Perrin (I’m very pleased with it so far) and played calcio/football/soccer at a local field for an hour or so in the afternoon. I then went down to the Perrin’s apartment to talk with them, which ended up being delightful and extending over dinner time.
Another highlight of yesterday was after dinner when Abby and I went to a highly recommended wine bar in town, Il Vin Caffe. They are serious about their wine there, and we decided to maybe splurge a little bit in the pursuit of la dolce vita. I had a red from Veneto (which was just ok), and Abby had a glass of Grechetto. This is one of the main grapes used in the white Orvieto Classico (the main wine of this area), and has a really tangy citrus taste, slightly bitter – it is the reason I like the Orvieto Classico. I like the pure Grechetto even better, because it is not sweet at all. I ordered a crostini plate with sweet tomatoes, oregano, and some small type of fish. Delicious. Abby and I shared a torta that was chocolate and apricot marmalade, and to compliment it we ordered a glass each of a dessert wine. This is not something I normally get; in fact, I’ve really only tried sips of it at different times in the past. We made the right choice in ordering it. Abby’s tasted (and smelled) like less viscous honey, and I ordered a local specialty – Muffa Nobile. It had been explained to me before that this is made (in a similar way to Canadian ice wine) by leaving the grapes on the vines past the normal harvest time. There is a type of “nobile mold” (muffa nobile) that they cause to slightly rot the grapes on the vines, which shrivels them and brings out the sugars – almost like making wine from raisins. It blew me away. The bouquet was delicious and complicated; there were scents that I had never smelled before. The taste was also wonderful, like apricots and caramel. I will do all I can to bring a bottle home.
Tonight I am going to see the Buena Vista Social Club at the local theatre, courtesy of Catherine Prescott. I’m excited because I’ve heard really great things about them, and they’re pretty famous. So that should be fun.
I think that is all for now. I love you all.
01 May 2009
Firenze, 24.4.09
Last Friday I traveled to Firenze for the day with my dear friends Erin, Abby, Jake, and Josh. Upon arriving we discovered that, because it was the EU’s “Culture Week,” all of the museums were open for free! We had ambitious plans for the day, so this was a great help, saving us around 23 euro in museum admissions and long waits in line (I assume that the lines moved so quickly because there was no jam-up from needing to pay).
Our first stop was at the Palazzo Pitti, a short jaunt across the Arno. We were excited to start the day with a visit to the modern art section of the museum, since we don’t get a great deal of that here; now and then we crave it. We quickly discovered, however, that the term “modern” was being used in the same way that historians use it: as a loose time period beginning in the mid-1700s and extending up to the end of the 19th century. This was very frustrating to me because in art history, the term is used completely differently, referring to a specific time period beginning at the end of the 19th century. While I appreciate the skill of the art coming out of the age of modernity (in the historical sense), I have little personal interest in it.
Palazzo Pitti was not, however, a disappointment (don’t worry Dana! It was a great recommendation). We had thought that the attached Boboli Gardens might make a good 15 minute refresher before we set out for the next museum. The next thing we knew, we had spent about an hour and a half wandering the newly verdant grounds, which were a perfect blend of water, sculpture, manicured lawns and slightly checked growth. We saw about a third of the gardens. The weather was perfect, and after the day of rain before it was wonderful to merely wander in sun and look out over the city from the top of the hill. Hopefully we will be able to return with a picnic lunch and explore the rest of the grounds.
When we finally rolled our pant legs back down and summoned the resolve to leave the gardens, we set out to recross the Arno and visit the Borgello museum. I had been here two summers ago, but I insisted that we add it to our itinerary because no one in our group should miss what it has: Donatello’s David, and the plaques created by Ghiberti and Brunelleschi in the contest over the design of the Duomo’s baptistery doors. David is an incredible piece of early Renaissance sculpture, and is specifically important for Firenze as a symbol of its dominance over other nearby city-states. The plaques, however, stand out even more in my mind because many feel that their creation can be definitively pointed out as the start of the Renaissance.
We next headed up the street to the Accademia, the museum in which are housed Michelangelo’s “enslaved” unfinished sculptures meant for the tomb of Pope Julius II, and, of course, his David. I was very prepared to not be overly impressed with what I thought was likely an unduly popular piece of sculpture; there is plenty of art that is like that, so popular and constantly being thrust into our visual vocabulary, when it really isn’t all that great. This is different. Michelangelo’s David deserves all the recognition it gets. I was prepared to be unimpressed, but woefully unprepared for the opposite effect; it is awing in its grandeur. The photographs do it no justice – it is twice as large as I thought it would be, and is additionally overwhelming because it stands on a pedestal that is above eye-level.
Upon leaving we stopped at a tiny restaurant to grab a panino to go. It was one of the best sandwiches I’ve had in my life, ham with eggplant and a creamy truffle sauce.
Following lunch we stood in line at the Galleria degli Uffizi for two hours. This was not exactly what we wanted, but it ended up being ok because we met an older couple from Toronto, and we traded stories of our travels for the whole time. So the time passed quickly, and soon enough we were inside. The wealth of art that is inside that building is staggering. The halls are lined with statues like Roman replicas of the Doryphoros, and each room contains some of the most famous works of art in the world. Highlights: the room with the Madonna enthroned altarpieces by both Giotto and Cimabue, Rembrandt portraits, a giant Da Vinci cartoon, Caravaggios. The greatest highlights, though, were seeing the Artemesia Gentileschi Judith Slaying Holofernes painting next to the Caravaggios and actually liking it better than the Caravaggios (!), and the Botticelli room. Primavera and The Birth of Venus are two of the greatest paintings I have ever seen. I suppose what draws me to them is that they are paintings that look like drawings, but it is also the extreme delicacy and precision, especially in Primavera; as dark as that painting is, the whole thing communicates weightlessness, the uplifting spirit of spring. The intricacy of the patterns on the fabric, the small details all add up to a massive painting that is about what is tiny. And then, The Birth of Venus…another artwork that bombards us almost daily, but once again with good reason. After seeing it in person, I am convinced that it is the loveliest treatment of the female form that I have seen. It kills me that this room will in such a short time become inaccessible to me; it is the type of museum space to which pilgrimages should be made as often as possible.
What was NOT a highlight was seeing Parmigianino’s Madonna with the Long Neck. I had wanted to go my whole life with never seeing this monstrosity in person, but the kind folks at the Uffizi just had to place it at a point through which passage was necessary to see half of the museum. What an abomination.
When we had exhausted the Uffizi, we took a quick trip to H&M, where I did not buy anything (be proud, Mom and Dad!). On the way back to Sta. Maria Novella for our 7.13 train, we ordered gelato at Corona’s Café – it was the best gelato I’ve had, I was essentially eating a cold, creamy mango.
I cannot pretend to judge Firenze on the few short times I’ve been there, but the impression it has made on me is this: what is sincere and (relatively) permanent is old and kept inside, and it is from these objects that the city continues to derive its identity and its sincerity. Firenze is a fashion center in every meaning of the word: Italian designers have their flagship stores in this city, even if all the work is done in Milan. The streets are wide and clean, shops abound, there is a sense of a congruous fusion of medieval and modern (unlike so many of the Shakespeare plays done today) in the look of the place. However, take away the Botticellis and the Donatellos and what does Firenze have that is not transitory? Perhaps it is simply what every other city has, but since other cities do not have the start of the Renaissance, this all becomes more apparent. It is interesting to me that what is contained within walls and behind laser beams is the heart of the city. Firenze is, perhaps, still a Renaissance city, and it has not yet been re-birthed as other cities continuously are.
Our first stop was at the Palazzo Pitti, a short jaunt across the Arno. We were excited to start the day with a visit to the modern art section of the museum, since we don’t get a great deal of that here; now and then we crave it. We quickly discovered, however, that the term “modern” was being used in the same way that historians use it: as a loose time period beginning in the mid-1700s and extending up to the end of the 19th century. This was very frustrating to me because in art history, the term is used completely differently, referring to a specific time period beginning at the end of the 19th century. While I appreciate the skill of the art coming out of the age of modernity (in the historical sense), I have little personal interest in it.
Palazzo Pitti was not, however, a disappointment (don’t worry Dana! It was a great recommendation). We had thought that the attached Boboli Gardens might make a good 15 minute refresher before we set out for the next museum. The next thing we knew, we had spent about an hour and a half wandering the newly verdant grounds, which were a perfect blend of water, sculpture, manicured lawns and slightly checked growth. We saw about a third of the gardens. The weather was perfect, and after the day of rain before it was wonderful to merely wander in sun and look out over the city from the top of the hill. Hopefully we will be able to return with a picnic lunch and explore the rest of the grounds.
When we finally rolled our pant legs back down and summoned the resolve to leave the gardens, we set out to recross the Arno and visit the Borgello museum. I had been here two summers ago, but I insisted that we add it to our itinerary because no one in our group should miss what it has: Donatello’s David, and the plaques created by Ghiberti and Brunelleschi in the contest over the design of the Duomo’s baptistery doors. David is an incredible piece of early Renaissance sculpture, and is specifically important for Firenze as a symbol of its dominance over other nearby city-states. The plaques, however, stand out even more in my mind because many feel that their creation can be definitively pointed out as the start of the Renaissance.
We next headed up the street to the Accademia, the museum in which are housed Michelangelo’s “enslaved” unfinished sculptures meant for the tomb of Pope Julius II, and, of course, his David. I was very prepared to not be overly impressed with what I thought was likely an unduly popular piece of sculpture; there is plenty of art that is like that, so popular and constantly being thrust into our visual vocabulary, when it really isn’t all that great. This is different. Michelangelo’s David deserves all the recognition it gets. I was prepared to be unimpressed, but woefully unprepared for the opposite effect; it is awing in its grandeur. The photographs do it no justice – it is twice as large as I thought it would be, and is additionally overwhelming because it stands on a pedestal that is above eye-level.
Upon leaving we stopped at a tiny restaurant to grab a panino to go. It was one of the best sandwiches I’ve had in my life, ham with eggplant and a creamy truffle sauce.
Following lunch we stood in line at the Galleria degli Uffizi for two hours. This was not exactly what we wanted, but it ended up being ok because we met an older couple from Toronto, and we traded stories of our travels for the whole time. So the time passed quickly, and soon enough we were inside. The wealth of art that is inside that building is staggering. The halls are lined with statues like Roman replicas of the Doryphoros, and each room contains some of the most famous works of art in the world. Highlights: the room with the Madonna enthroned altarpieces by both Giotto and Cimabue, Rembrandt portraits, a giant Da Vinci cartoon, Caravaggios. The greatest highlights, though, were seeing the Artemesia Gentileschi Judith Slaying Holofernes painting next to the Caravaggios and actually liking it better than the Caravaggios (!), and the Botticelli room. Primavera and The Birth of Venus are two of the greatest paintings I have ever seen. I suppose what draws me to them is that they are paintings that look like drawings, but it is also the extreme delicacy and precision, especially in Primavera; as dark as that painting is, the whole thing communicates weightlessness, the uplifting spirit of spring. The intricacy of the patterns on the fabric, the small details all add up to a massive painting that is about what is tiny. And then, The Birth of Venus…another artwork that bombards us almost daily, but once again with good reason. After seeing it in person, I am convinced that it is the loveliest treatment of the female form that I have seen. It kills me that this room will in such a short time become inaccessible to me; it is the type of museum space to which pilgrimages should be made as often as possible.
What was NOT a highlight was seeing Parmigianino’s Madonna with the Long Neck. I had wanted to go my whole life with never seeing this monstrosity in person, but the kind folks at the Uffizi just had to place it at a point through which passage was necessary to see half of the museum. What an abomination.
When we had exhausted the Uffizi, we took a quick trip to H&M, where I did not buy anything (be proud, Mom and Dad!). On the way back to Sta. Maria Novella for our 7.13 train, we ordered gelato at Corona’s Café – it was the best gelato I’ve had, I was essentially eating a cold, creamy mango.
I cannot pretend to judge Firenze on the few short times I’ve been there, but the impression it has made on me is this: what is sincere and (relatively) permanent is old and kept inside, and it is from these objects that the city continues to derive its identity and its sincerity. Firenze is a fashion center in every meaning of the word: Italian designers have their flagship stores in this city, even if all the work is done in Milan. The streets are wide and clean, shops abound, there is a sense of a congruous fusion of medieval and modern (unlike so many of the Shakespeare plays done today) in the look of the place. However, take away the Botticellis and the Donatellos and what does Firenze have that is not transitory? Perhaps it is simply what every other city has, but since other cities do not have the start of the Renaissance, this all becomes more apparent. It is interesting to me that what is contained within walls and behind laser beams is the heart of the city. Firenze is, perhaps, still a Renaissance city, and it has not yet been re-birthed as other cities continuously are.
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