 | |
| Sunset over Florence (As photographed from my bedroom window. Is it any wonder I'm sad to be leaving?) |
Peace.
Showing posts with label florence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label florence. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Arrivederci Firenze...
I am leaving Florence for the last time today. It's bittersweet because it was my city for awhile and it has become a part of who I am. The sun is setting on my time here, but there is still so much to look forward to.
I'm leaving for 10 days in Rome and the start of another new adventure. Wish me luck! Anything I have to see while I'm there?
Peace.
Peace.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
The Magic of Movement
As an extension of an earlier post (Art and the Pursuit of Nature) I wanted to talk about the sense of movement found in Italian art. Early paintings were 2-D, as in the rest of the world, but as the art moved towards more realistic body images and 3-D shapes it also worked to create a sense of movement.
Paintings were essentially the “movies” of the Renaissance period, as the strides in art were the technological advancements equivocal to today’s increasing prowess in special effects. Paintings were the most accurate means of capturing life as it was, and for the first time, artists were truly pursuing reality instead of some artistic ideal. As the painters improved their skill in the area of shadow and dimension, they also refined their ability to make the people look alive, capturing the musculature of their bodies and the expressions on their face, as well as the movement of their clothes and bodies. This was a new and exciting idea for this time, though it may seem mundane to us now.
Part of the reason that it is hard for many people today to appreciate art in the same way as medieval peoples is that we are used to watching things move, and therefore have a very short attention span. We look at a painting for a few seconds, ten at the most, and feel that we have taken what there is to take from it. But this was not the case in the past. Paintings were given much attention, as their vitality and movement was almost difficult for the mind to comprehend. So therefore, if we let ourselves slow down and fully experience a painting, however old, it may come to life and show us something we have not seen before.
Paintings were essentially the “movies” of the Renaissance period, as the strides in art were the technological advancements equivocal to today’s increasing prowess in special effects. Paintings were the most accurate means of capturing life as it was, and for the first time, artists were truly pursuing reality instead of some artistic ideal. As the painters improved their skill in the area of shadow and dimension, they also refined their ability to make the people look alive, capturing the musculature of their bodies and the expressions on their face, as well as the movement of their clothes and bodies. This was a new and exciting idea for this time, though it may seem mundane to us now.
Part of the reason that it is hard for many people today to appreciate art in the same way as medieval peoples is that we are used to watching things move, and therefore have a very short attention span. We look at a painting for a few seconds, ten at the most, and feel that we have taken what there is to take from it. But this was not the case in the past. Paintings were given much attention, as their vitality and movement was almost difficult for the mind to comprehend. So therefore, if we let ourselves slow down and fully experience a painting, however old, it may come to life and show us something we have not seen before.
At the Setting of the Sun
The day is ending. The calm is settling over everything, almost like the day is exhaling. One day a week or so ago this was the view from the front of the Villa, and all I know is that this picture is all I'd need for someone to convince me that God is an artist. Enjoy the sunset.
Peace.
The Sky over Firenze
Peace.
The Sky over Firenze
Thursday, October 21, 2010
A Second Day of Italian Skies
More clouds--so I hope you liked the last round. I did, and that's what matters, right?
Peace.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="453" caption="Settigano, Firenze"]
[/caption]
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="604" caption="Firenze"]
[/caption]
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="604" caption="Settigano, Firenze"]
[/caption]
Peace.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="453" caption="Settigano, Firenze"]
[/caption][caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="604" caption="Firenze"]
[/caption][caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="604" caption="Settigano, Firenze"]
[/caption]
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Why A Museum is Like a Supermarket
A little less than two weeks ago we visited Galleria degli Uffizi Firenze, whose title is extremely boring when translated—The Gallery of the Offices of Florence. The building itself was built to use as offices during the rule of the Medici family in 16th Century Florence. At the end of the Medici family’s rule (also during the 16th Century) the last remaining heiress, Anna Maria Louisa, negotiated a famous agreement with the Tuscan government that required Tuscan authorities to maintain the Medici family’s huge art collection as property of the State, creating one of the first museums in the Western world.
Needless to say, this museum is insane. Museums in the United States just might not do it for me anymore. In about an hour I saw my first da Vinci, several paintings by Michelangelo, and works by Caravaggio, Botticelli, and Giotto, to name just a few. Francesco told us to think about the fact that every piece we passed without even a second glance was worth more than we would probably make in our entire lifetime. A sobering thought to say the least—on both the art and the rest of our lives.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Birth of Venus, by Botticelli"]
[/caption]
From the original Roman busts that line the hallway (tell me that those wouldn’t be behind 3 inch think bulletproof, heat sensing glass if they were in the United States) to literally thousands of pre-Renaissance and Renaissance paintings, altarpieces, and other works of art, it very well could take a lifetime to appreciate even a good chunk of the work in this museum.
But, just as we were all starting to get overwhelmed with how much there was there to appreciate, Francesco gave us a valuable lesson about museums that I plan on carrying with me through the rest of my life. A museum is like a supermarket, he told us, you have to go in with a list of what you’re looking for, or you’ll try to buy everything. Because he was there with us we just hit the highlights, but that’s okay. Really, that’s the only way to do it. As part of our modern world we often want to experience everything as quickly as possible, as intensely as possible. Therefore a whirlwind, headache-inducing museum sweep might seem like a day well spent. But is it?
This leads us to the question of why we go to museums in the first place. Is it to say we’ve seen as many priceless works as possible, even if we don’t really remember them for themselves? Or is it to truly experience something greater than being able to put a check next to “See the Birth of Venus” on our bucket list?
I think the metaphor of a supermarket can be extended into this aspect of museum going as well. We go to the grocery store to buy what will nourish us. We go with the rest of our lives in mind. We know if company is coming we buy something extra, or if we’re going to be home alone we buy a little less. But we never need everything.
I think it’s the same with museums. There are things going on in other facets of our life that influence what art our spirits can draw the most nourishment from. Maybe “The Birth of the Venus” is the famous painting in this room, but the lonely one across the way is the one that really speaks to us.
In a nutshell, never feel guilty about not “seeing everything” in a museum. Do your homework beforehand and know what you’re looking for. Look at what interests you. Above all, let things speak to you, and if they’re not, move on. Something will.
Peace.
Needless to say, this museum is insane. Museums in the United States just might not do it for me anymore. In about an hour I saw my first da Vinci, several paintings by Michelangelo, and works by Caravaggio, Botticelli, and Giotto, to name just a few. Francesco told us to think about the fact that every piece we passed without even a second glance was worth more than we would probably make in our entire lifetime. A sobering thought to say the least—on both the art and the rest of our lives.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Birth of Venus, by Botticelli"]
[/caption]From the original Roman busts that line the hallway (tell me that those wouldn’t be behind 3 inch think bulletproof, heat sensing glass if they were in the United States) to literally thousands of pre-Renaissance and Renaissance paintings, altarpieces, and other works of art, it very well could take a lifetime to appreciate even a good chunk of the work in this museum.
But, just as we were all starting to get overwhelmed with how much there was there to appreciate, Francesco gave us a valuable lesson about museums that I plan on carrying with me through the rest of my life. A museum is like a supermarket, he told us, you have to go in with a list of what you’re looking for, or you’ll try to buy everything. Because he was there with us we just hit the highlights, but that’s okay. Really, that’s the only way to do it. As part of our modern world we often want to experience everything as quickly as possible, as intensely as possible. Therefore a whirlwind, headache-inducing museum sweep might seem like a day well spent. But is it?
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="466" caption="Doni Tondo, by Michelangelo"]
[/caption]
This leads us to the question of why we go to museums in the first place. Is it to say we’ve seen as many priceless works as possible, even if we don’t really remember them for themselves? Or is it to truly experience something greater than being able to put a check next to “See the Birth of Venus” on our bucket list?
I think the metaphor of a supermarket can be extended into this aspect of museum going as well. We go to the grocery store to buy what will nourish us. We go with the rest of our lives in mind. We know if company is coming we buy something extra, or if we’re going to be home alone we buy a little less. But we never need everything.
I think it’s the same with museums. There are things going on in other facets of our life that influence what art our spirits can draw the most nourishment from. Maybe “The Birth of the Venus” is the famous painting in this room, but the lonely one across the way is the one that really speaks to us.
In a nutshell, never feel guilty about not “seeing everything” in a museum. Do your homework beforehand and know what you’re looking for. Look at what interests you. Above all, let things speak to you, and if they’re not, move on. Something will.
Peace.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="467" caption="Medusa, by Caravaggio"]
[/caption]
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Day 14: Arrival in Italy
I thought the adventure was over when we left Avignon.
Oh how very naïve I remain.
The trip to Florence was supposed to be composed of three trains. Yes, three. The first was about five minutes late, which was enough to get our hearts pounding because we only had thirty minutes between trains at the next station. The second came on time, but once we had boarded we waited over thirty minutes to leave because of an accident and there were numerous delays throughout the trip, which came to a total of about an hour delay. We were scheduled to have an hour and 13 minutes between the second and third train, so we were very nervous this time. But then we get to the station and our train to Florence doesn’t even show up on the departures monitor and it is supposed to leave in seven minutes. It turns out, there was no third train.
Through a series of events related to me several times in French, none of which I understood, our train had been cancelled and we were promised instead a bus that would take us to Florence.
Now John is 6’6” and even though the sleeping berths on trains are cramped, they are also horizontal. But, with no other choice, we dutifully waited for the bus. Keep in mind that this is at 9:30 at night. The bus came at 1:30 AM. Right.
There were literally only tow seats left on the bus and they were in the very back row of five seats. Luckily John got the middle, so he had some legroom, but it was still cramped and hot.
About twelve hours later we finally rolled into Florence. The first thing I did at Villa Morghen, where we are staying for the semester, was take a long, long shower.
Our initial nomadic travels are now over, but never fear! I will continue to post my comings and goings, perhaps not as frequently, but hopefully just as faithfully, as I have for the last two weeks. I am in the process of getting all moved in to my room here at the Villa (Hello no more suitcases!) and I will be happy to report on the first day of school tomorrow! Bon nuit!
(I’m going to have to get out of my habit of speaking French!)
Oh how very naïve I remain.
The trip to Florence was supposed to be composed of three trains. Yes, three. The first was about five minutes late, which was enough to get our hearts pounding because we only had thirty minutes between trains at the next station. The second came on time, but once we had boarded we waited over thirty minutes to leave because of an accident and there were numerous delays throughout the trip, which came to a total of about an hour delay. We were scheduled to have an hour and 13 minutes between the second and third train, so we were very nervous this time. But then we get to the station and our train to Florence doesn’t even show up on the departures monitor and it is supposed to leave in seven minutes. It turns out, there was no third train.
Through a series of events related to me several times in French, none of which I understood, our train had been cancelled and we were promised instead a bus that would take us to Florence.
Now John is 6’6” and even though the sleeping berths on trains are cramped, they are also horizontal. But, with no other choice, we dutifully waited for the bus. Keep in mind that this is at 9:30 at night. The bus came at 1:30 AM. Right.
There were literally only tow seats left on the bus and they were in the very back row of five seats. Luckily John got the middle, so he had some legroom, but it was still cramped and hot.
About twelve hours later we finally rolled into Florence. The first thing I did at Villa Morghen, where we are staying for the semester, was take a long, long shower.
Our initial nomadic travels are now over, but never fear! I will continue to post my comings and goings, perhaps not as frequently, but hopefully just as faithfully, as I have for the last two weeks. I am in the process of getting all moved in to my room here at the Villa (Hello no more suitcases!) and I will be happy to report on the first day of school tomorrow! Bon nuit!
(I’m going to have to get out of my habit of speaking French!)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
