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.