30. November 2011: Musetta’s Waltz

I am in the midst of finals—finishing final papers and studying for final exams. Life is crazy. But tonight, I got to see Italian opera in Italy. How lucky am I? Wow.

The feature presentation was Puccini’s La Boheme. Many of my younger readers will know the story from the modern rock-opera version, Rent. From my knowledge of the music, the vague plotline and my comprehensive Italian language skills, I was quite proud of my ability to follow the plotline fairly closely. Beyond the fact that I was watching an Italian opera in Italy, (and one that I’ve been dying to see and have never gotten the chance to in the States) it was a truly incredible performance. The singing was phenomenal, the orchestra was perfect, the set was interestingly modern and the costumes were fun without taking away from the action of the plot. It was a wonderful introduction to La Boheme for me and really an exciting experience overall.

I will note one strange phenomenon that has been consistent in the last two shows I’ve seen in Italy: the applause it ridiculous. Really, the audience claps for fifteen minutes at the end of the show, at intermission…really, whenever. I don’t understand it and it gets frustrating after the first five minutes of bowing.

But, back to studying! I’m looking forward to going back to the Uffizi tomorrow to see some Botticelli (his Primavera and The Birth of Venus will, I’m guessing, be the highlights) and possibly stopping by a Christmas Market or two this weekend. I can’t believe I only have ten days left of my study abroad time here in Italy! I definitely would not have thought I would say this three months ago but…wow, time has flown by!

27. November 2011: Mambo Italiano

Yesterday I spent 9am until 10:45pm working on my finals for Medici and Dante so this morning, Kari and I decided to take a break to watch the Florence Marathon. The traditional Renaissance-costumed flag throwers and drummers were the entertainment before the runners made it to the finish line. The first to come through the ribbon were bicyclists on bicycle-like contraptions that were pedaled entirely with arm strength. Clearly, these contraptions were actually incredibly difficult to move because the first bikes only came in twenty minutes before the first runner. The first male time was 1:46 and the first female came in at 1:51. As they were coming in, the jumbo-tron showed the leaders of the foot race and it looked like it would actually be an exciting kick to watch. About five minutes before the first man came in though, one of the men took off and left his competitor in the dust. The time of the first male was 2:09:51 and the first female came in at 2:31:36. Both of them were from Ethiopia.

Through the magic of technology, I discovered that an old friend from band camp, fellow cellist Hugh, was in town visiting his girlfriend for Thanksgiving. So of course I had to show them both the best gelato in Florence at the Gelateria de Medici. They agreed with me that it was the best. We shared an hour of catching up and good conversation before I had to run back for dinner.

Because it was our turn to cook dinner! My host parents have been hosting International students for fifteen years and every student must cook them a traditional meal from their country. Neither Kari nor I are cooks, so we decided to make breakfast for dinner (they don’t have real breakfast in Italy anyways). For dessert, we made pumpkin bread. It takes the longest time to bake so we started that early—good thing too because it turned out that we had to grind up the cloves and grate the nutmeg ourselves. Our menu for the evening was as follows: Scrambled eggs with mozzarella and sausage (my job), hashbrowns (my job), French toast (Kari’s job), fruit salad (a joint effort) and pumpkin bread (also a joint effort). You don’t believe that I cooked? Yeah, I wouldn’t believe it either. That’s why I made sure to have proof!

Instead of the traditional Italian courses, we served our breakfast in true American style: everything at once. Our host parents were a little surprised by this tactic but decided that it all tasted so good that they didn’t mind so much. I was actually quite impressed with how well it all turned out—neither Kari nor myself prides ourselves on great cooking skills. To watch during dinner, Daniella and Andrea had bought Il Mago di Oz. That’s right. The Wizard of Oz was dubbed in Italian with English subtitles…except for the songs, which were the original sound. Thank goodness. It was a wonderful evening.

In the excitement of Thanksgiving, I forgot to show you my drawing from last week. Class was cancelled on Thanksgiving so we only had two days to complete this drawing…which is not actually enough time to complete a drawing so we were just supposed to get a good outer contour down on paper. The point was to get used to drawing on a much larger paper before we start our final drawing. So here is my work at the end of day one and day two. I also included a photo of the studio since I realized you probably don’t know what it looks like. It’s just a big circular room but it’s where Botticelli used to show is work so it’s kind of intimidating.

Ok, now I have just found the entirety of Ahmal and the Night Visitors on YouTube so…guess what I’m going to be doing tonight? While reading Medici, of course, but in the Christmas spirit.

24. November 2011: Long Way From Home

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone back in the states! It was strange to think of it being Thanksgiving…this is the first Thanksgiving that I have not been with my parents.

They did a good job keeping our minds off any nostalgia though. We awoke early in the morning and boarded a bus by 7:50 to visit the Villa Medicea di Poggio a Caiano. This Villa is a huge countryside mansion that was first owned by the rival family, the Strozzi family. It was inherited by the Rucellai family before they reluctantly sold it to Lorenzo il Magnifico. The villa symbolizes the patronage of Lorenzo—the embracement of nature, the cycle of time and cyclical renewal. We walked through the Villa and I noted a room with a stage and a mini organ, a strange stairwell that came out of the middle of the wall, ran along the wall in a slight incline and then reentered the top of the same wall, but my favorite was a bedroom ceiling covered in rouched fabric. I’ve decided that my house will have a ceiling like that, it was beautiful. There was also a fresco with a turkey—how appropriate. (I wasn’t allowed to take photos but I illegally snapped a few…)

That turkey fresco was completed by the same artist who frescoed the Castel Sant’Angelo that we just saw in Rome. It reminded me of a cool little fact that I forgot to mention the first time I talked about that Castel. The high stone walls of that Castel were the same from which Floria, the lead soprano in Puccini’s Tosca, jumps to her death at the end of the opera.

Moving right along, we drove to the Villa di Capezzana. This villa is owned by a noble Florentine family and includes a huge acreage of vineyards and olive tree orchards.

 We got to tour their wine cellars where they keep wines from as early as the 1930s. They brew a special mix of the famous Tuscan Chianti grape and the French Cabernet Sauvignon. They call the latter variety of grape Ouva di Francesca (grapes from France) and the unique mix of varieties a Carmignano wine. Next, we saw their special collection of Vinsanto—literally a holy wine, in terms of flavor it is a sweet dessert wine, then to the barrels where they age the wine. There are two types of aging. They have one room of huge French oak barrels and another room of smaller barrels that are imported from France, cost 600€ per barrel and must be replaced every three years.

After visiting a room with hundreds of shelves of freshly picked grapes, we ventured across the way to the olive press. This is now a much more technological process. There is a machine that runs the olives through and cleans them, and then they are moved to a machine which presses the olives, skins and seeds included. Finally, this paste is transferred into the last machine which uses centrifugal force to separate the oil from the water.

And the freshly pressed olive oil stored in huge ceramic pots looked a bit like green slime.

Then our entire group (pictured above—minus Ellie who is hiding behind Leah) sat down for a traditional Tuscan meal centered around the oil and wine of the Villa di Capezzana. There were five courses and a different wine to go with each course.

For appetizers, we had a rosé with pane and olive oil…the best olive oil I have ever tasted. Our first course was crostini con fagioli e cavolo nero all’olio nuovo paired with a 2009 Carmignano. Next was penne ai tre cavoli paired with a 2001 Carmignano. The main dish was artista all’olio nuovo con puree di patate e ceci all’olio paired with a 2006 Ghiaie della Furba. Finally, our dessert was torta di mele with their signature vinsanto. The sweet dessert wine was good but very sweet and a little syrupy. That was my only complaint for the day.

Overall it was possibly the most delicious meal I have ever had in my life and definitely on this trip. I sat at a carino table where, for every new bottle of wine that was given to our table we went around and said what we were thankful for. After the first round, we chose themes: the little things, art and from the earth. I am thankful for fabric, the wide range of emotion that can be expressed through art but escapes human language, and the fruits of the tree of life.

There are, of course, an endless number of things that I am thankful for on this Thanksgiving. The first things that come to mind are my parents. They have given me the financial and emotional funds for this incredible international opportunity. My family gives me strength. They give me wings to overcome any obstacle, be it a language barrier or homesickness. I am thankful for my sister who has always been there for me, who has talked sense into me and who has coaxed me out of the darkest moments of my life. Her smiling face alone is enough to brighten any room but more importantly, it brightens my life. I am thankful for my beautiful ragazzo who harmonizes with the music in my life with unbelievable perfection. I am thankful for my best friends who send me letters and emails that remind me that I am missed, even after months of separation. I am thankful for everyone in my life—I am lucky to have so much love in my life. I am thankful for Eli, Rivka, Steph, Randi and Mara. I am blessed to have two loving grandparents who have gone out of their way to enter this world of the interwebs to read my blog and send me loving emails. I am truly blessed and there are far too many souls to write about in a blog post. You know who you are and I thank you for being a part of my life.

Happy Thanksgiving, TUTTI!

22. November 2011: Naked As We Came

Today was not terribly exciting but I’ve gotten complaints about my lack of blog posts so here’s a little tidbit. I visited the David again. In the Galleria dell’Academia, the David is at the end of a huge hall called a tribune that was built just to hold the David. It was moved there from the Piazza della Signoria where it had originally sat in front of the Palazzo Vecchio. There, it had endured stones being thrown at it, an uprising in the Piazza when a bench was thrown out of the window and broke its arm off and intensive rain damage. Now it’s been beautifully restored so that it is once again beautiful and a full figure but it is not at all as shiny as it once would have been. The rain washed away the polish that Michelangelo had originally finished the statue with.

There is a lot of hype about this most famous of statues so there is a fair amount of disappointment that some people feel upon seeing it in person. I, however, would join the hype and say that this statue is, in the literal sense of the word, awesome. No picture can capture the gigantic size and perfection of the body captured in marble. It is not a statue like those of Bernini in the Borghese collection; it does not come to life. This male body is too perfect to be real and he does look like he’s frozen in time but as a work of art it is striking. Maybe that is just because the statue reminds me of someone I know. But then again, it gets hype for a reason!

As we walked out of the hallway, we looked at the unfinished works of Michelangelo that line the hall. As we read the bilingual information plates, our professor (Dr. Jodie Mariotti) smiled. Why? Because she wrote all of those information plates! How lucky am I do have her as a professor? Wow!

20. November 2011: Cosmik Debris

On my last day in Rome I visited only places where we could not take pictures. First, an exhibit on Filippino Lippi and Sandro Botticelli which taught me the meaning of tondo (a round painting that came into style with these two artists). I was captured by Botticelli’s The Abandoned (Mordecai lamenting at the gate of the Royal Palace) from 1475. The painting is haunting and the empty space seems to be screaming and swallowing up the lone figure of Mordecai. She slowly blends into the emptiness.

We observed the symbolism of the plants and flowers in paintings by both artists. Strawberry flowers are a symbol of the passion of the Christ and are a recurring theme in Lippi’s paintings.

There were also some paintings by an artist who is new to me, Piero di Cosimo. We saw The Freeing of Andromeda (1513) which is eccentric, inventive and fantastical. I think I’ve found a new artist to add to my list of favorites.

After the exhibit, I wandered around Rome and along the Fiume Tevere. Then we all met up and boarded a bus to take us to the Villa Borghese. This Villa is extremely strict and doesn’t even let you take a purse into the gallery. One must buy tickets for a specific entrance hour and each group is only allowed two hours in the gallery before a bell rings and everybody traipses back out. This is so ironic because the owner of the Villa, Scipione Borghese, built this Villa for pleasure and art. In fact, there is even an inscription on the front of the building that says something to the effect of, “Dear Visitors, Enjoy! This place is for pleasure. Stay as long as you like and don’t let anyone turn you away.” So much for respecting the wishes of the patron!

Inside, the Galleria Borghese is the most beautiful collection of work I have ever experienced. The collection includes many masters of the late Renaissance and early Baroque including Raphael, Titian, Bernini and Caravaggio. There were also some more works by my new favorite Piero di Cosimo. As an art collector, however, Scipione was ruthless. He stole and even imprisoned artists in order to obtain his favorites.

I am quickly realizing that I am incredibly inspired by the Baroque period and not so much by the Renaissance. Why? Storytelling! Baroque art is more than just Madonna and Child, they are climactic scenes from stories. I especially love telling the stories behind the paintings and seeing different interpretations of the same story. My dad is the most wonderful storyteller I have ever met and I remember growing up with his endless stories. The combined theatre and history in the art of storytelling has become a very positive and always happy part of my life.

Another important strain of the Baroque is the illusionistic ceiling paintings which open the room up to an infinite sky. It reflects the energy and vitality of the Baroque era. In one such room with an endless sky ceiling there were also two busts of the patron Scipione. I giggled when I looked at it. He reminds me of a plump and cheerful Professor Slughorn. They have many similarities like the appreciation for the fine things in life (Slughorn loved his crystallized pineapple like Scipione loved his wine) and found joy in collecting things (Slughorn collected famous students, Scipione collected famous works of art).

Most beautiful, I think, were the sculptures in the Borghese collection. There were conversation pieces like the sculpture of the hermaphrodite which would certainly provoke some interesting philosophical conversations. My favorite, however, were the sculptures by Bernini. Each sculpture contains such movement and emotion, depicting the climax of each story. Instead of the David being a triumphant young boy standing on a giant head, he is about to let the fatal sling fly. Then there is the tragic Rape of Persephone. That, of course, is the story of Hades stealing the daughter of Demeter from her garden and bringing her down to the underworld to be his bride. The marble sculpture captures the true emotion of the moment with a tear running down Persephone’s face as she cries out for her mother and pushes Hades’ face away. The musculature of Hades is striking and you can see the strength of his hands against the soft flesh of her waist. But my personal favorite was Apollo and Daphne. The story goes that the sun god, Apollo, fell in love with the wood nymph, Daphne. She did not love him back but Apollo would not give up. As he chased her through the wood, Daphne prayed to her father, Pineus, the river god, who turns her into a laurel tree just as Apollo catches her. Apollo then picked some branches from that laurel tree and made it into the wreath that became his signature look. Bernini picks the precise moment when Daphne begins her transformation into a tree with roots sprouting from her toes, her skin becoming bark and fingers transforming into leaves and branches. It is a shocking and stunning image.

We then got to observe the tennabroso of Caravaggio—his signature, darkness with selective light. But my awe of Caravaggio was cut short by the bell but wow, what a breathtaking gallery, possibly the best I have seen in Italy. We traipsed back onto the bus for a four hour bus ride back to Florence. Luckily, Jodie had heard our tour guide on the second day and bought Gladiator for us to watch on our way back. I had never seen it because of its gore, but I was really very impressed with the film. There was great acting and it was, of course, historically accurate.

Overall it was a full and successful trip to Rome. Now I have three weeks, two final presentations, one research paper, an art show and an exam to go!

19. November 2011: Don’t Get Lost in Heaven

Well, today was supposed to be a free day but I ended up doing all but one of the offered optional tours. We started by visiting the Villa Farnesina. When it was built near the end of the 1500s, it was right outside the city of Florence on the Tiber River. Agostino Chigi was the owner and he devoted the Villa to love and pleasure and practical jokes. He would throw marvelous parties, giving each guest fine plates and utensils of gold embossed with their own family crests. Then, after every course, he would have his servants toss everything into the river while all of his guests marveled. But Chigi was smart—after all of his guests left, he reeled up the net that he had placed in the river before the party and collected all of his plates and utensils.

Outside, the Villa had sprawling green gardens with lemon and pomegranate trees. Inside, the rooms were fabulously frescoed with stories of love painted by many renowned artists including Raphael. We commented on Raphael’s “divine selection” when he painted women. He selected parts from several different beautiful women and put them together to create a selective ideal. He reminds us that nothing this beautiful exists in nature, but to appreciate the art. We especially forget this today. The selective beauty is something that women and men actually strive to look like (sadly, none of us strive for the ideal spiritual beauty). Raphael’s divine selection reminded me of photoshop, lighting tricks…all the smoke and mirrors that have accompanied the evolution of technology in art. Nevertheless, what Raphael created was stunning. I was especially taken with his ceiling fresco depicting the story of Cupid and Psyche—possibly my favorite Greek myth ever. I was so excited that I could actually raise my hand and tell everyone on the tour the story when Jodie asked if anyone knew the story. Does anybody not know the story? Well, let me tell you!

There was a young woman named Psyche who was so beautiful that people on earth began worshipping her beauty. This angered the goddess Venus, so she sent called upon her son Cupid to go to Earth and make Psyche fall in love with some hideous monster. On his way down to earth, Cupid scraped himself with his own arrow and fell desperately in love with Psyche (not that he needed the help of his arrow, her beauty alone would have been enough for Cupid to fall for her). So Cupid brought Psyche up to a villa in the clouds where he gave her anything her heart desired. Every night, Cupid would visit her bed but he told her that she could never see his face. Psyche, even without seeing his face, fell in love with Cupid in return but she soon came to miss her sisters. She asked Cupid if she could see them again and he brought them up to the villa in the clouds. Upon seeing this miraculous place, her sisters became incredibly jealous and convinced Psyche that Cupid was probably a monster and she needed to see what he looked like. Psyche did not want to disobey her lovers wishes, but eventually her sisters won her over. That night, after Cupid fell asleep, Psyche lit a candle and held it to her lovers face. Cupid, startled, woke up immediately and Psyche burnt him with the wax. She was sent down to earth and Cupid returned to his mother with great sadness for losing his love. Venus was upset that Cupid had not done as she had wished but she saw how full of love Cupid was, so she decided to see if Psyche was worthy of her son. She gave Psyche many difficult tasks. Among others, she locked Psyche in a barn and told her to sort a pile of grain before morning. All of the ants came and helped Psyche so that she finished the task. Venus, seeing that Psyche had completed even the most difficult of the tasks, finally met with the gods and they all agreed to let Cupid bring Psyche up to Mount Olympus and marry her. It was a wedding feast like none other. (Eli and Dad can check my facts on that story…did I get everything?)

We also saw Raphael’s The Triumph of Galatea and the Hall of Perspectives.

Then we scurried across town and up Michelangelo’s steps again to visit the Capitoline Museum. The courtyard holds huge marble body parts that come from the gigantic statue of Constantine. I was rather enamored by the foot twice the size of my body. Inside, we walked through the largest public collection of ancient art. The Spinario reminded me of the story my dad tells me of how he jumped down the last few stairs when he was a boy and landed on a sewing needle, shoving it through his shoe and into his foot. I think the Spinario has a slightly more romantic spin on that image; the little boy taking a thorn out of the bottom of his foot that is copied by countless artists. We saw the Lupa con Romulus e Remus, the symbol of the founder of Rome.

I walked upon the foundations of the Temple of Jupiter which is from circa sixth century B.C. Next to the foundations is the original statue of Marcus Aurelius. It used to be covered in gold but now only bits of gold are left. The legend is that when all of the gold comes off, Rome will fall. However, there are so many of these little legends—symbols of the fall of Rome—it seems to me that artists and the community just wanted to add importance to their art. But hey, it’s a great way to encourage the preservation of your art and culture. We also saw the Capitoline Venus, on which many Venus’ are modeled including the one in Botticelli’s famous Birth of Venus. On the balcony of the museum, we got a fantastic birds-eye view of the Forum. On the way back through the museum, I got a burst of energy and suggested that we all dance through the ruins. Everyone laughed except our professor, Jodie, who looked at me very seriously and told me that this was a wonderful idea. Someone should really do an interpretive dance through the ruins because it would make people see them in a different light and hopefully appreciate them. I agree, it would be pretty fantastic (is anyone from Knox Terpsichore reading this?). So I did a little dance for Jodie, pictured below.

Then we visited an exhibition on the sketches of Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci. We saw Leonardo’s study for mechanical wings and his famous grotesque heads. I loved Michelangelo’s study for a Christ in Limbo, Cleopatra, study for the head of ‘Leda’ and the sketches and studies of figures that he would later paint in the Sistine Chapel. Most of the work displayed by Leonardo was notes and sketches and if you think that I write small on my postcards, you should see this guy’s notes. His handwriting is positively miniscule! I particularly enjoyed the strange combinations of sketches and notes on his pages like, “Studies on the equivalence of surfaces and drawing of cat.”

Then our group split up and I ended up wandering Rome by myself. I decided to walk halfway across town to visit the Chiesa di Santa Susanna. On the way, I stopped at the spectacular Trevi Fountain which would have been a lovely place to sit and picnic or read a book if it weren’t absolutely swarming with tourists. I didn’t stay long but continued towards Santa Susanna—did I mention that this church is where the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa is kept? Yeah, that face I’ve been drawing for the past three weeks. At least, that’s where my professor told me it was kept. More on that later because when I arrived, I found out that it would be another hour until it reopened (Italians keep hours around their meals and they have incredibly long lunch hours). Oh, timing. I stood on the steps looking into space, trying to decide my next move when an Italian man stopped and asked if I needed directions (in Italian). I thanked him and, also in Italian, told him that I actually wanted to enter the church but it was closed. He looked at me and said that there were so many beautiful churches in Rome, why on earth would I want to see this one? I explained and we struck up a conversation, him asking all of the usual questions that one asks to an international student. I normally wouldn’t include this type of mundane interaction in a blog post but I was so proud and excited at how well I could carry on a conversation with this man who was speaking very quickly and entirely in Italian. I guess I must have learned something in those Italian classes! After he awkwardly gave me his phone number and I stood there, silently glad that I didn’t know how to say “you have a piece of lettuce in your teeth” in Italian, I decided to wander towards the famous Spanish Steps. I found the Piazza and sat by this monstrous monument for a little while, passing the time by writing. I was about to set off again, wondering what all the hype was about this, yet another obelisk statue. I glanced to my left and saw a crowd down the street. I had another half hour before the church opened again so I decided to follow the crowd. Good thing too because it led me to the hype…the Spanish Steps: a beautiful, huge stairway leading to the Spanish church. Upon entering the church, I saw an interior that was different from anything I’d ever seen in Italy but was extraordinarily familiar to me. I grew up in California so whenever class field trips took us to any churches, chances were that they were Spanish. The architecture reminded me of sanctuaries that I had seen in the missions of San Francisco, at San Juan Battista and the many other missions I have visited up and down the coast of California. I got a warm feeling sitting in that church. I felt closer to home than I’ve felt since the middle of August.

I set off again towards the church that I hoped was open now. I passed the most beautiful fabric store that made me stop in my tracks and look at the glorious displays. It turns out, this is where designers like Oscar de la Renta shop for their fabric. I thought about entering the store, but they had their prices listed in their displays and there was no way it looked like I even had the possibility of buying fabric that cost 400 euros per square meter. So I finally made into Santa Susanna but there was no Saint Teresa to be found. I crossed the street to try the church of Saint Bernardo because maybe my professor just said the Piazza of Santa Susanna. Still no Santa Teresa. I ventured to the third and last church in the piazza, Chiesa di Santa Maria della Vittoria. Finally, amongst an elaborate golden altar and excessive stucco and frescoes sat Santa Teresa. The sculpture is excellently done with her ecstasy visible all the way down to her toes. Sadly, it is in a niche high on the wall and at an angle where it is nearly impossible to see her facial expression. I did, however, notice that on either side of the niche where Santa Teresa is experiencing the ecstasy of the holy spirit, there are two opera boxes laid into the wall with four male onlookers in each…watching Santa Teresa’s experience. Ahh, the mystery of some artistic choices.

Exhausted, I headed back towards the hotel. There are two major problems with Rome’s streets. First, there are no sidewalks and everyone drives like madmen. Secondly, they are entirely cobblestone which really hurt your entire foot by the end of the day. I plopped down the moment I got to the hotel and met with Jodie, my Medici professor about my final paper. Then Ellie and I set out to look for dinner. We found the Rossopomadoro which is a hip new restaurant participating in the slow food movement so it only uses natural food that is in season. I had a pizza with salami and smashed potatoes on it—delicious.

A long day hopefully followed by a long and restful night’s sleep.

18. November 2011: Off To The Races

I spent most of last night expelling the contents of my stomach and therefore did not get much sleep. I suspect it was a combination of a super rich dinner, exhaustion, dehydration and the fact that I hardly ever drink wine (or any alcohol for that matter) but decided last night was a special occasion. When in Rome, though, you power through. So I walked up the stairs designed my Michelangelo and gazed upon the copy of the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius with the rest of my group. The fresh air did me good so I felt better and better as we walked down from Capitoline Hill and toured the Fori Imperiali. All of the ruins of these ancient imperial buildings were amusing to learn about because even then, each emperor wanted to build something grander than the next. In many cases they even built right on top of the previous building. That ended up being good for us because they would fill in the buildings with dirt to make their building structurally stable, thereby preserving all of the frescoes and art work in the first building.

 The Forio Imperiali led us straight to the Coliseum where we got to climb all the way to the top level. We had it all to ourselves along with a spectacular bird’s eye view of the Forum. We looked down towards where so many slaves lost their lives, being sprung out of the ground by elevators to face their worst fears. The Coliseum once fit 40,000 spectators who could be all be evacuated in 15 minutes. Our tour guide told us that Gladiator is probably one of the most historically accurate films depicting any ancient Roman time period. Elizabeth Taylor’s Cleopatra on the other hand shows Cleopatra arriving in Rome through the Arch of Constantine, which was certainly not built yet.

Next we traversed Palatine Hill where Romulus supposedly founded Rome before killing his brother, Remus. We saw some of the famous Roman aqueducts, the Domitian stadium and the house of Augustus Caesar. The most exciting part for me was when we saw Julius Caesar’s temple. Our tour guide pointed to the blocks of stone that we were sitting on and told us that we were on the very spot where Marc Antony gave his famous funeral speech for Julius Caesar. Some of you may recognize it as beginning with, “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.”

 We finally got a chance to rest our feet after seven hours of touring Roman ruins. I only rested for an hour before taking a walking tour of Rome. Our first stop was the Chiesa di Santa Maria Sopra Minerva. In English, that means the church of Saint Mary on top of Minerva because the church was literally built on top of a temple honoring Minerva. The ceiling was painted a brilliant blue night sky that was reminiscent of St. Francis’ church in Assisi. We viewed the brilliant Filippino Lippi family chapel, the tombs of the Medici popes and the relic of St. Catherine of Siena (senza head, we already saw that displayed in Siena). Near the altar stood Michelangelo’s Risen Christ which portrays a fully finished Christ with an Adonis-like body. It is the gentlest portrayal of Christ that I have ever seen.

Next up: the Pantheon! Of course it was beautiful—an expertly designed building that could fit a perfect sphere inside. As we stood inside learning about the history of the Pantheon, I started thinking about the pagan religion that the empire of Rome was built upon. Pantheon, of course, means “all gods” because this was the temple where all of the Roman gods were worshipped. Each of the loggias in the walls had housed a statue of a different god. Today these loggias are filled with altars to various saints and Christians. Of course I understand the religious turn-around that occurred in Rome and I am not trying to change history. I simply found myself mourning the loss of such beautiful history and wishing that I could see the Pantheon as it was designed with all of the various gods. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen so many Italian Renaissance churches at this point, but I found myself longing for the simplicity that imagined was once housed in the Pantheon.

After wandering by the tomb of Raphael inside the Pantheon, we visited a 1950’s gelateria called Giolitti’s. Hands down, it was the best gelato I have ever tasted. For two euros you could order three different flavors in heaping scoops on top of a delicious cone (I know that sounds strange but you can get some pretty cardboard-y cones if you’re not careful) all topped with homemade panna montagna (whipped cream). I tasted biscotti, tarrone and Italian opera. Yum.

 Next we visited the Chiesa di San Luigi dei Francesi where Caravaggio painted three frescoes depicting the life of St. Matthew. His lighting effects are famous but they are really stunning to see in the flesh. We didn’t spend much time there before wandering towards the Piazza Navona and Bernini’s Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi fountain. It is quite a spectacular fountain, especially all lit up at night, which depicts the four biggest rivers on the four continents that had been discovered at that point: the Nile (Africa), the Danube (Europe), the Ganges (Asia) and the Plate (the Americas). The fountain is next to the Chiesa di Santa Agnese which is patronized by the same family. Bernini began the fountain for this patron, then fell out of favor with the family so the patron chose another artist to design the façade of their church. Bernini eventually returned to finish the fountain, but he had a distinct rivalry with the façade artist. Many viewers can see this rivalry reflected in the designs of each respective work. There is a statue of Santa Agnese on top of the church, looking straight at the fountain and pointing to herself in supposed pride of the artist. The figures closest to the church on the fountain are cringing away from the façade, some say in horror of the design, others say in fright of the instability of the façade. Either way, it’s an amusing story.

At this point, the entire tour group had left except for myself so, with the three professors, I entered the church. It was the essence of a baroque interior: theatrical and energetic. My favorite was a marble sculpture of Santa Agnese being burned at the stake. The marble flames were artistically perfect, I was awestruck. Awestruck and exhausted, so I headed back to the hotel with my professors, stopped at Insalate Ricca where I had a huge salad and then headed to bed.

17. November 2011: A Call From the Vatican

We woke up early this morning to catch the fast train to Rome (apparently it went about 300 km/hr). The ride was uneventful and we soon arrived in Rome, settled into our hotel, ate a quick boxed lunch then headed towards the Vatican. On the way we passed Piazza Campo di Fiori which houses a flea/farmers market most of the year, then the French embassy which was designed by Vasari and Michelangelo. We crossed the Fiume Tevere (the Tiber River) and walked right up to the Castel Sant’ Angelo. This is a beautiful and historical castel that was apparently featured in the film of Dan Brown’s novel Angels and Demons. Personally, I’ve never seen it but my professor, Jodie recommends it its art history.

 Finally we made it to the Vatican (possibly the only country that you don’t need your passport to enter). You can see the dome of St. Peter’s from miles away but the façade is quite astonishing from up close as is the grand piazza in front of it. Once inside the Basilica San Pietro it is very difficult to describe the splendor so I’m going to be doing a lot of name dropping. We saw Michelangelo’s Pieta and the glorious twisted columns (covered in bumblebees) of the altar. In the walls surrounding the altar there are, arguable, the four most important relics of the Catholic faith. These are, obviously, very closely protected beyond beautiful sculptural representations. The relics are the piece of the True Cross found by St. Helen, Veronica’s veil, the head of St. Andrew and the spearhead of Longinus which pierced the side of Christ on the cross. Behind the altar is an elaborate bronze chair that supposedly encloses the simple chair that St. Peter sat upon. This sculpture looked eerily like the one described in the final book of the Harry Potter series which sits in the Ministry of Magic, though this one certainly has a more positive connotation.

We were in the basilica at a miraculous time of day. The sun was shining through the windows just so. If there weren’t hordes of tourists inside and one could simply look down the basilica towards the altar with these beams of light aiming down at the floor with such precision I think it would be impossible not to believe in God. Even with the tourists, this place was undoubtedly a spiritual place. This picture was taken by my classmate, Rebecca Simpson. 

Next we got to go on a special tour of the catacombs under the basilica which must be booked several months in advance. It was led by a seminary student who happened to be from Oklahoma and was a very enthusiastic guide. He led us down into the Necropolis which is like a city where the ancient Romans kept their dead. It has streets and little “houses” which hold elaborate mosaics and sarcophagi. There was a particular mosaic in a tomb which scholars can prove made during the Christian Persecution. The image is such that it could be mistaken as the sun god, Apollo by untrained eyes but if you look at it through a Christian eye, it is clearly Jesus. The rays coming out of his head could be mistaken for sun rays but they are in the shape of a cross when Apollo’s rays looked more like the crown on the Statue of Liberty. His eyes are cast upwards towards heaven and God, though Apollo is the sun god and should always be looking down on the earth. Finally, he is holding a globe in his hand because Jesus is the king of heaven and earth, unlike Apollo who is only the sun king.

We emerged out of the dank, dark Necropolis into the Clementine Chapel which is decorated by great amounts of red porphyry. This precious marble no longer exists except where it has already been sculpted. Here, our guide animatedly told us a great story about the archeologists who were excavating in this area. They proved that the area behind this chapel was the Tomb of St. Peter but they did not find any of the remains of the man. Next to the tomb was a wall with a little niche in it. This wall had been graffitied over time with ancient prayers before Constantine had filled up the Necropolis, including this wall, with dirt so that he could build St. Peter’s Basilica on top of it. A specialist on ancient graffiti was studying this wall when she realized that there was a piece missing which contained the middle of a sentence. She asked around and found that one of the leaders of the excavation had decided to use that piece of the wall as a souvenir paperweight. Upon replacing this important piece, she found that the Latin graffiti said, “Peter Within.” The wall was too small for Peter to be actually inside the wall, but she remembered the niche in the wall and asked if there had been anything inside that niche. An archeologist said that yes, they had found bones in the niche. With the consent of the Pope, they sent those bones to be tested. The bones were proven to be a 65-75 year old male, the same age that Peter was supposed when he was crucified. There was dirt from the Necropolis on the bones. The remains had no feet, consistent with the fact that St. Peter was crucified upside down so his feet were so firmly attached to the cross that the Christians who stole his body in the night had to cut the feet off in order to quickly steal away. Finally, the body was wrapped in gold and purple cloth which is fabric that was so expensive that it could only be owned by the emperor Constantine. This proves that Constantine knew that this was Peter and secretly saved the remains from harm or theft. Our guide then led us to look through several panes of glass where we could see the jaw bone of St. Peter. Need I say this? SO COOL! (in the right-most picture below, the dark circle to the left of the middle is where you could see the jawbone)

We emerged from underground after the tour and paid a visit to the Vatican Museum. It had a great view of the dome of St. Peter’s. At that point, our excitement could hardly be contained!

Inside the Museum we walked past countless priceless works of art including the Loacoön, the Belvedere Torso and countless works by Michelangelo and Raphael. These last two artists were working in the Vatican at the same time, though Michelangelo was a much more mature artist and Raphael was still young. It was interesting to see when Michelangelo showed up though because Raphael's work begins to soak up some of his style. 

 Finally, we entered the Sistine Chapel. The building itself is smaller than I had anticipated but the work was no less jawdropping. It was the end of a Thursday so the chapel was almost empty, though there was one rather important person who showed up. The head coach of the Italian national soccer team who lead them to win the World Cup arrived and the lights all turned on for him (and us). All of the security guards took out their cameras and crowded around him to get their photos with him. It was quite amusing. Or head professor, Jodie, also got very excited and started jumping up and down. It was definitely a sight to remember. The Sistine Chapel overall is something that you can read about extensively in history books but its true beauty really cannot be described—it’s something that you feel. To be in the presence of a work that is so complex and extensive is a feeling that is unmatchable. The ceiling depicts the Creation Story, the wall by the altar shows the Final Judgment. Michelangelo draws himself in a very creepy, ghostlike nature where he is almost hidden, coming out of a grave. Wow. Just…wow.

After that, we were exhausted. We ate a tiny little trattoria and then headed to bed in preparation for another long day.

16. November 2011: Art Is Hard

Italain is harder…but I have successfully finished Italian class in Italy with flying colors! The thing is, when you live in Italy, taking an Italian final is pretty similar to just trying to get around. I was nervous before the final and my friend Tyler gave me this nugget of wisdom: imagine you’re a penguin. Now just keep waddling. –And that gives you a peek into the character of this ACM group!

We have just completed our longer cast drawings…seven two-hour sessions on this one. I drew the head of the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, which I will be seeing in Rome very soon! So here are my progress shots after every day…

And the final product!

There have been several little events that I feel are worth mentioning. Yesterday, while riding the bus to school like I do every day, the bus got into an accident. I don’t really understand what happened because it didn’t look like either the bus or the car had actually touched one another or at least left any damage. I do know that one minute the bus was putting along and the next minute everyone in the bus was flying forwards. I will admit, I was surprised when the first thing the bus driver did was make sure that everyone on the bus was unharmed. My previous experiences with Italian bus drivers have never been positive. Well, there was that one time that I did a little dance when the bus came (it was very late) and the driver told me that when I flagged a bus, I should do it with my hands and not my feet. I giggled at that encounter. Anyways, all is well, everything is fine and I walked the rest of the way to school. No worries, just excitement.

As a part of my Italian final, I had to give a presentation on whatever I wanted so I decided to summarize Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night in Italian (when I return from Italy, I will be designing costumes for Knox’s winter term production of said play). I know at least one of my readers would like proof that I can actually give a presentation in Italian so here it is!

Quando io tornara negli Stati Uniti, io fare le costume per un spetacolo Teatro le chiama “Dodiceisma Notte” di Shakespeare. All’inizio la rappresentazione una signorina ha sopravive una tempest e un naufragio. La signorina chiama Viola e lei pensa suo gemello morto. Lei non sa dove si e. Tra poco lei deduce la terra chiama Illyria e ha un duca si chiamo Orsino. Viola decide di traversi da un’uomo e lavora per il duca. Il duca Orisno e inamorato di Olivia, una contessa. Viola deve dare messagi d’amore al’Olivia. Ma Olivia pensa Viole e un’uomo e si inamora di Viola mentre Viola si inamora Orsino. Molto caotico! Poi il gemello di Viola arrivo (lui non e morto). Lui si chima Sebastian. Olivia sentira Sebastian e penso lui e Viola. Olivia e Sebastian sposarano. E molto divertenti quando Orsino penso suo domestic ha sposate Olivia. Alle fino, Viola rivela la sua vera identita. Tutti sono felice.

For Medici class we visited an exhibit at the Palazzo Strozzi (the enemy family of the Medici) called “Denaro e Bellezza” (Money and Beauty). This exhibit was much more interesting than I had anticipated. It displayed and explained a mix of economics, history and art, illustrating how closely tied the bankers and merchants were to the art of Florence in particular. First, it dipped into a different class subject of mine with a fresco from Santa Croce depicting the circle of Hell where the usurers are punished. There was another painting by a Flemish artist with quite a haunting image of death approaching a miser and the exhibition had categorized it as “The Wages of Sin.” I appreciated it and if you know my history of musical theatre, you will too. There were also numerous parts of the exhibit—the expensive red fabric dye, velvet textiles and alum (the most precious mineral at the time, potassium aluminum sulphate, that was essential for dying textiles)—which showed how important clothing and fashion have been throughout history. There were sumptuary laws which dictated who could wear what styles, colors or jewels and even special brocades made only for a specific family. Need I say it? So cool!!!

Then we saw lots of Fra Angelico and Botticelli paintings which got me more excited to see the Birth of Venus in the Uffizi next week.

Have I mentioned that I’ve seen David twice now? He really doesn’t get any less awesome. The duplicates are nothing compared to the real thing. Breathtaking. Totally worth the 11 euros everyone else has to pay to get in (did I mention I get in for free?).

Woo! Sorry about the bragging! It just feels so great to have finished a class and be going to Rome tomorrow. That being said—sorry to my complaining fans (Ahem, Allie and Joseph) who whine that I don’t write often enough—I will not be bringing my computer with me to Rome and therefore will have four new blog posts for you starting Monday. Buona fine di settimana! To all of my wonderful Knox friends, good luck on finals! Boca di lupo! (You have to say Crepi back or it’s bad luck, remember). Ciao!

13. Novembre 2011: Float On

Finally I found Mara and Gabby! We met up on a brisk morning in Amsterdam and quite simply wandered around the city catching up. When friends are apart for six months they have a lot to tell one another. Add in moving to a foreign country and things just get crazy. So we got lost in Amsterdam looking at the Red Light District and then wandering towards the Jordaan district. On the way, we stopped in the Niewe Church which had an exhibition on Rembrandt. The church was beautiful with incredibly intricate wood carvings, a huge organ and a maze of posters hanging from the ceiling. Apparently, the “exhibition” that was going on was actually one of the dullest exhibits that this venue had hosted. We walked through posters of previous exhibitions at the Niewe Chuch like one might walk through an art gallery. When we finally made I through the labyrinth we discovered that the exhibition was just one piece by Rembrandt. True, the Holy Family is a beautiful painting by Rembrandt but it felt a little over advertised. Ah well.

 We continued wandering through Jordaan—the district with the most beautiful canals.

As we wandered and caught up, I began making a list of everything I want to do when I come back to Amsterdam (in December). I learned that if you want to go to the Anne Frank House, you need to get up relatively early in the morning and the Van Gogh Museum is actually right next to my hotel in December. Other than that, most museums in Amsterdam are horrendously expensive and the architecture outside is so beautiful that I figured I didn’t need to spend money twice, especially when the group I was traveling with did not have much interest in those museums. We did pass the famous “Condomerie” window…

We eventually wandered into a coffeeshop called Basjoe Café to try their signature special tea and while ordering I witness a very strange exchange. The man behind the counter—I’ll call him the barista—had very clearly been sampling the delicacies that Amsterdam is famous for legalizing. He had a single dreadlock which was knotted several times at the base of his neck and then extended all the way down to the floor. He stood grinning from behind the counter as a very exuberant young American man bustled into the shop, suitcase in hand. He approached the barista and asked if they had WiFi, going on at length about how he needed to get ahold of his friend and couldn’t find anywhere. The barista simply grinned and sang, “nooooooo.” The American chuckled and asked where he might be able to find WiFi. The barista widened his eyes, made eye contact with me (as though I would understand what he was about to say) and sang, “I never saw ah internet in mah liiiiiiiiiiiife!” and then began to laugh hysterically. I looked at the American and we exchanged glances that I would interpret as, “Dude…I have no idea what just happened,” then the American chuckled, thanked the barista and left. The barista continued to laugh hysterically until he finally handed me my tea and went back to smoking his joint. Did I expect any less from Amsterdam? Haha!

At this point it was still early but we had been on our feet all day, it was getting cold and I needed to catch a flight at 6am the next morning so we bid one another farewell until January and headed in opposite directions. On my way back to our hotel, I witnessed the Occupy Amsterdam campgrounds. It was pretty similar to Occupy London, only more lights.

While waiting for the tram I also saw a group of people dressed as pirates and a man doing tricks on a scooter. Let me be more specific; this was a scooter that you don’t generally see anyone on unless they are past the age of 80. Touché, Amsterdam.

I woke up six hours later to take a tram, then a train, then two planes back to Florence via Zurich. Although I left myself three hours to get to the airport, I underestimated the awful timing of Amsterdam public transport on a Sunday when one needs to make a very solid deadline. I made it to the airport with fifteen minutes until my gate closed. I sat for ten minutes in the security line until I finally began asking people if I could go ahead so that I could make my flight. Luckily, everyone spoke English and everyone was very kind…except for the security guards, of course. They searched my bag and informed me that I could not take peanut butter on the airplane regardless of if it was only three ounces (explanation: they don’t really half peanut butter in Italy but they do in Holland and peanut butter is one of my favorite things in the world). I ran through half of the Schipol airport and made my flight with a minute to spare. And none of my flights were delayed that day

11. Novembre 2011: Hurly/Burly

My first day and a half of Amsterdam was absolute chaos. Ok, I take that back (but I won’t erase it because it’s a good hook, is it not?) because the traveling was the chaotic bit. Still, the traveling took almost a day and a half so maybe that statement is more accurate than I initially meant to be. Oy. Beginning at the beginning…my flight from Florence to Munich was delayed 1:20 hours. I had no idea how long it would take to get from Florence to Munich but I did know that I needed to catch my connecting flight to Amsterdam in Munich. So I did what any person in that situation might do; I approached the counter (which is there to help confused travelers, is it not?) to ask if I would still be able to make my connection. There had been absolutely nothing happening at this ticket counter for the past forty-five minutes but the moment that I approached the counter, the woman behind it stood up, rummaged in her purse for her cigarettes and told me that she would be back in five minutes. So I waited. Fifteen minutes later, she returned to the counter bringing with her a fresh cloud of cigarette stench. I smiled and politely asked if she knew whether or not I would be able to make my flight and, in true Italian fashion, she rolled her eyes, gave me a curt “yes,” then checked her text messages on her cell phone.

Needless to say, I was more than ready to board a train leaving Italy when it finally arrived—I’d happily be stuck in Munich! No need, though, because my flight to Amsterdam was also delayed (weather problems in Munich). Just to solidify my opinion about the Florence airport, though, the Lufthansa section of the Munich airport provided free and unlimited hot drinks, newspapers in all languages and the cleanest airport bathrooms I have ever seen. Now are you ready for some irony? When I was waiting in the Florence airport I decided to read ahead for my Dante class. As we were arriving in Munich, I finished Purgatorio, preparing myself to enter Paradiso!

I did eventually make it to Amsterdam where I boarded a train, then wandered around until I found a group of American students who pointed me towards the Tram. Around 1am, I finally made it to the biggest dump, excuse me, my hostel. Luckily I only stayed there for one night and I simply slept (after everyone else in my assigned room had already been asleep) and woke up (before anyone else had woken up yet) then attempted to take advantage of the free breakfast. That, however, ended up being toast. Or, plenty of bread, forty students and one toaster. So I grabbed a cup of coffee and a map and hit the road! I headed in the general direction of the meeting point I had decided on with my friends. Mara and Gabby are both Knox students studying in Spain this term and we had decided to meet up in Amsterdam at the Tattoo Museum. I woke up fairly early so I spent the first part of my morning wandering around Oosterpark and enjoying the architecture of Amsterdam. It is certainly old style architecture but not as old as Florence, so it was nice to be appreciating something new. There is also plenty of new art and architecture in Amsterdam. The park was filled with modern sculptures giving it a personal vibe.

I soon made it to the Tattoo Museum and waited for about fifteen minutes before another woman approached me and asked if this was the new location for the museum. My eyes widened, I went inside to ask the ticket vendor. She told me that the old location had been closed five years ago but it still was the first to show up in a google search for the Amsterdam Tattoo Museum. What luck.

 An hour and many fruitless phone call attempts later I received a call from my friend Ellie who was also meeting me in Amsterdam. She had arrived at the station and we were supposed to head to our hotel together so, reluctantly, I left the meeting point and went to pick her up hoping that Mara and Gabby would be able to call me at some point. I would later learn that they had gotten lost and arrived at the museum about ten minutes after I had left. Oh the power of timing.

I met Ellie at the station nevertheless and we headed towards Rembrandt Park where we were staying at a man’s house through a company called Air BnB. You can register with this company, get reviews and personal recommendations and rent out apartments, rooms, beds, couches for a price of your choice just like you were running your own mini hotel. We managed to find a reasonably priced room that was very well reviewed and for good reason. The view from our window was beautiful! The only unfortunate part was that it was located a twenty-minute tram ride from downtown Amsterdam.

 We settled in then headed back into town. Still no word from Mara and Gabby so we set out wandering. Neither of us knew much about the city and the ACM program has gotten us so used to structured group tours that it was a real breath of fresh air to wander aimlessly around a new city. The culture of Amsterdam is hard to pin down—it seems like they have absorbed whichever style or cultural quirk that serves their fancy. The buildings were old fashioned but not medieval, inside, many restaurants and coffeeshops had decorated in an Islamic or Indian fashion and there was modern art and sculpture everywhere. The atmosphere was unpredictable and fun.

The canals going through Amsterdam are entirely different from Venice. Venice makes a show of their canals whereas Amsterdam lives casually with the beauty and practicality of their canals. The streets are so narrow that hardly anyone drives. Biking and public transportation are the main forms of getting around which makes for a very quiet big city. However, it makes walking around frightening sometimes because there are absolutely no traffic patterns for the cyclists to follow. It’s a quiet free-for-all! Ack!

We wandered through the Red Light District as the sun was setting. The lights here are pretty fantastic when they reflect off of the canals but the half-naked women in the windows are a much less desirable sight. We visited a coffeeshop which was just a smokier, quieter version of any other coffee shop anywhere else in the world. Neither of us had gotten much sleep the night before and we began our day fairly late what with travel and all so we decided to head in early so that we could get an early start the next day. We searched for a place to grab some dinner and on our way from the Red Light District towards the Jordaan District we stumbled upon a bizarre encounter with three men. A man wearing a Guy Fawkes mask was holding a bouquet of roses, a man in a spray-painted gold track suit was playing a gold tambourine while a third man in a sky-blue tracksuit played a catchy jig on the accordion. All three men were giddily prancing down the street. And that was that. Continuing the musical theme, we passed a man sitting on the sidewalk playing the Godfather theme on the recorder. With smiles on our faces from these only-in-Amsterdam-experiences, we sampled a Dutch pancake which is huge and a very filling meal within itself. Delicious!

We made our way back out of the city and I finally got a hold of Mara and Gabby. We planned to meet at Centraal Station—a building that never moves—in the morning. Great success! 

5. Novembre 2011: Old Friends/Bookends

Remember, Remember the fifth of November

The gunpowder treason and plot

I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason

Should ever be forgot

I love that little poem…it reminds me of my amazing time in London, one of my favorite movies (V for Vendetta) and my favorite play (Equivocation by Bill Cain). It doesn’t have anything to do with this post, it just happens to be the fifth of November.

That was a fitting introduction for what will be a quick and uneventful post. We are now at the 2/3 mark of the ACM Florence Program! There are still so many moments that I remember that I am living in Italy and can’t really believe it. I spent this weekend in Florence walking around and visiting places that I can’t really get enough of. I read Dante’s Purgatorio outside the Palazzo Pitti and finished my sketching homework in the Galleria dell’Costume. I saw Michelangelo’s David again (no, it never gets old) then I showed one of my best friends around my temporary home and realized how much I know about the history of Florence. It was quite exciting and I hope Meghna enjoyed my endless historical babbling.

Aaand I finished my homework for the weekend! Like I said, not the most exciting weekend but I had to post on November fifth. Oh, and yesterday I saw someone at the bus stop holding a Rice University tote bag, Dad! Alrighty, I promise a more exciting post soon. Next weekend, I’m off to the Netherlands so it’s bound to be eventful. Ciao for now.

3. Novembre 2011: November Has Come

It feels so good to have the midterm over with! And I think that for the first time in my life, I can say that I over-studied for an exam. I crammed a great many dates and patrons into my brain and was pretty much tested only on the works that I already knew before I started studying. Still, I’d rather study too much than not enough. Now I can identify works by Donatello, Brunelleschi, Michelozzo, Masaccio, Fra Angelico, Benozzo Gozzoli, Fra Filippo Lippi, Domenico Veneziano, Leon Battista Alberti and Luca Della Robbia. Phew!

And now that the exam is over, the project has been turned it…well, life has been pretty calm. And therefore, this post will probably be disjointed and all over the place. You have been warned. First, I want to prove to everyone that autumn has, finally, arrived in Florence. And it is beautiful.

I gave an oral presentation on the artist Andrea dal Castagno in my Medici art history class today. For this report, I was simply supposed to read Vasari’s account of the artist and give a summary. I was stoked for this assignment after I read Vasari’s chapter on Andrea because it had such a dramatic story in it. Andrea dal Castagno had a notable rivalry with painter Domenico Veneziano, with whom he was painting the chapel of Santa Maria Nuova in Florence. Because they were working together, Andrea pretended to be friends with Domenico despite his hatred for the talented foreigner. The story was, as follows: One summer evening, according to his custom, Domenico took his lute and went forth from S. Maria Nuova, leaving Andrea in his room drawing, for he had refused to accept the invitation to take his recreation with Domenico, under the pretext of having to do certain drawings of importance. Domenico therefore went to take his pleasure by himself, and Andrea set himself to wait for him in hiding behind a street corner; and when Domenico, on his way home, came up to him, he crushed his lute and his stomach at one and the same time with certain pieces of lead, and then, thinking that he had not yet finished him off, beat him grievously on the head with the same weapons. And finally, leaving him on the ground, he returned to his room in S. Maria Nuova where he put the door ajar and sat down to his drawing in the manner that he had been left by Domenico.

Meanwhile, an uproar had arisen. Everyone ran out of their houses including Andrea, who ran out to take Domenico in his arms crying, “Alas, my brother!” until Domenico finally expired in his arms. No one discovered who had killed Domenico and no one would have if Andrea had not confessed it on his death-bed. …a super intense story, right? And if anyone reading this post knows me, you know that I gave a dramatic reading of this account. However, my excitement at having the most exciting presentation in the class was quickly dashed to pieces. My professor praised my presentation and then, with a smile, told us how Vasari had actually made that entire story up. In fact, Andrea dal Castagno had died before Domenico Veneziano’s death so there is no way that Castagno could have brutally murdered him. And no, I don’t know why I was asked to do that presentation when it was all false…but hey, I got full marks so there you go.

I have been waiting to tell you all that the weekend before I left for London, I had a photoshoot! My Italian teacher, Stefano, is a budding photographer and in exchange for helping me fix my camera, he asked me to model for him. So we spent Sunday morning wandering around Florence while he took photos and told me odd historical and social tidbits about his city. It was a really fun morning and I finally got to see some of his photos. I am incredibly impressed with his photography (see more on his facebook page, Stefano Zanini) so I thought I’d share some of the photos with you.

Now, as annoying as cat-calls can be, I have to admit that I have gotten used to them. They are demeaning and misogynistic but in Italy, they are unavoidable. However, I also have quite a few piercings, including one on my face and a bar going through my upper ear, and half of my head is shaved so I get strange looks from everyone. I have gotten used to terrified looks from old women, blatant staring from young children and covert, intrigued glances from teenagers. Today was a bit different—I received two reactions to my appearance that I have given up trying to interpret. The first was when I walked out of my front door. An older man, probably in his eighties, was standing at the edge of the sidewalk holding a bag of trash. He turned his head to look at me behind him, let out a loud chuckle and threw his trash away. I giggled and moved along the sidewalk to wait for the bus. A little later, I was walking briskly across town fearing that I would be late for drawing class. Approaching me on the sidewalk was a man who looked vaguely Mayan—long black hair with grey streaks, a funny goatee and a colorful scarf. I saw him out of the corner of my eye and turned to look at him as I passed him on the sidewalk. He made direct eye contact with me, raised his eyebrows as high as they would go and shaped his mouth into a surprised “O”. And that was that.

I was not late to drawing and have now completed day three of my eight-day cast drawing of the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa. Here is a shot from day one.

And finally, tonight we had marzipan for dessert. Our host-parents’ son, Mattheo, had just brought it back from Sicily for them. It was the most delicious marzipan I have ever tasted…and it did not look at all like marzipan.

 Oh! I almost forgot: yesterday THE HEAT FINALLY CAME ON!!! We were very excited.

I know your heads must be spinning by now so I will keep this last bit short. I’m not sure if you have heard of the terrible storms that have been happening across Italy now. A great deal of Rome was flooded and I just learned today that two towns of the Cinque Terre have been destroyed by landslides. One of these happens to be Monterosso, one of the first places that I visited in Italy. I’m not sure what the state of things are in terms of damage done or reparation plans but I thought I would pass that bit of information on and you can do research from there if you wish.

Alright, what a downer! So I shall leave you with an uplifting quote. Good night!

Let the world change you and you can change the world. –Che Guevara