Part 6. Sunning myself In the cradle of the giants-Florence
I arrived in Florence non too quickly. It took about 2-3 hours. In that time the 'not too shy' couple's passion waxed and waned about 3 times. I got off the train and got the name of a decent hotel at the tourist aide station in the train station. I bought a map and found the address and then walked there. I can't explain it, and I can see after my last chapter my reader lifting his eyes towards heaven and sighing 'yeah right'. However... I knew exactly where the hotel was...It was like I had been in this town before. I knew where to turn without reading street signs, on what side of the street the address was, and as I passed by some of the 'not of historic significance' buildings, I recognized some as seeming familiar. I checked in and found out that the entire city of Florence was having their annual water shortage. That taking a daily bath would cost me almost as much as the room, and it was never made clear if I would be the only one to use that water that day. By this time I was numb to the amount of insanity that these folks could come up with. My room was exactly 2' wider then and 3 longer then the bed, I could just open the door and get into it.
I checked in and as it was still fairly early I made right for the Duomo. This is the site of the Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral, This where Brunelleschi invented one point perspective- a “recipe”of drawing that solved the concept of placing people and things to a scale that mimicked nature perfectly, (we still use it to do accurate drawings of interiors). It is also the locale of the great dome built by the same Brunelleschi. The cathedral of Santa Maria Del Fiore (Saint Mary of the flower[the flower signified Florence]) was begun in 1296.and after a few starts and stops the church was sorta finished by 1418. The only part incomplete was the planned Octagonal Dome located above the churches Chancel. Although the church was being used, it looked up to heaven and allowed the weather to enter... In 1419 it was decided that in order to resolve this dilemma that they would have a contest. The two heavy hitters in this contest was Brunelleschi and Lorenzo Ghilberti. Now Brunelleschi had already lost one plumb commission to Ghilberti- the doors of the Baptistry of San Giovanni (also in the Duomo). [The Baptistry is one of the oldest buildings in Florence if not the oldest. It was thought during the middle ages to have been a Roman temple to Mars.] These doors are also known as the “gates of Paradise' and many mark the compositions found there as the official beginning of the Renaissance. The compositions of the biblical scenes in the doors have many of the medieval stylistic qualities, but there is a depth and naturalism to them that had never been seen before. There is a story that says That Brunelleschi decided that he wasn't going to lose to Ghilberti again. [I might also add that about every description of Brunelleschi suggests he was a bit of a screwball] when asked by the council running the contest how he would construct the dome Brunelleschi responded that he wouldn't tell them. [It is said he was afraid his idea's would be stolen...obviously still smarting over being bested by his rival the last time]; Instead he suggested a contest. The person who could stand an egg on its end should get the job. After much debate the ruling council decided to indulge Brunelleschi. All the the contenders tried and failed. The last guy up was Brunelleschi. Who took the egg on its bottom rounded end and slightly tapped the egg into place, thus breaking the shell over the air pocket. The egg stood erect. The ruling council suggested that it was too simple, a child could have done that. Brunelleschi exclaimed “Yes, and a child could build the dome if I told him how.” They awarded the commission to him-I've gotten some info that said that the Meddici's were sponsoring him...and what they wanted they usually got. It was decided that both he and Ghilberti worked on the dome together, Ghilberti finally stepped away, the official reason was that Ghilberti claimed he couldn't read Brunelleschi 's handwriting [I'm thinking he got tired of Brunelleschi's obsessive secretive methods-Ghilberti probably figured he'd give the guy all the room he needed to fail and then step in and fix it.] Bunelleschi used the Pantheon as his model, except the recipe for reinforced concrete had long since been lost, so he did it with herringbone patterned brick so that each brick was dependent on the those below and to each side-thus the concrete would have already begun to dry and hold the wet ones in place, and allowed Gravity to provide compression as he slowly closed the sphere. He realized that he needed to use a crane and block and tackle to hoist bricks, mortar and stone up to the top using the available “power source” IE Oxen, great going up but not coming back down - Oxen don't walk backwards. So he designed and built a hoist that had reversible gearing. It's believed that the drawing of just such a device in Leonardo's notebooks was copied from Brunelleschi's working model when The dome was being built. The copper for the lantern above the dome was soldered in the studio of Verochio, while Leonardo was an apprentice there Leonardo writes of one of his first jobs being running solder for this lantern.
It was here that on Easter Sunday in 1478 the Pazzi (contenders to the ruling D'Medicis, both families were the bankers to the popes), backed by the pope, killed Guiliano D' Medici and almost killed his brother Lorenzo “The Magnificant” D'Medici [during mass!] who escaped with serious wounds to the sacristy. The Meddici had been running Florence for two generations already...and reading about it sounds a lot like dealing with the Mafia. Before this all came dowm Lorenzo's Mistress was Simonetta Vespucci, and he planned to marry her to his brother (same brother that was killed). Simonetta Vespucci was sorta the Marilyn Monroe of her day, She's was the most popular amongst the available models to be painted (I read an anonymous report that the artists used to get into public fistfights to settle who'd she'd model for next) her untimely death from TB didn't stop this-there were portraits of her being made as long as 15 years after she died. For me this was like sitting in the middle of Yankee stadium for a baseball fan or Wright Brothers bicycle shop for fans of airplanes or Edison's Lab for people who like gizmo's [Or in my Mother's Father case, a huge fan of Westerns, when he made the trip to Tombstone AZ ] This place was the hub of the Italian Renaissance- it had all pretty much happened here. I walked to the bronze star embedded in the ground to show where one point perspective was invented. I walked over to the Baptistery and saw 'the Gates of Paradise' and then I walked into the church. Within were Frescoes by Andrea del Castagno, Giorgio Vasari and Federico Zuccari. Many partook in the cathedral project (other than the above mentioned Brunelleschi and Ghiberti) we can name Giotto, Andrea Pisano, Andrea del Castagno, Paolo Uccello, Luca della Robbia, Michelozzo, as well as the formentioned Vasari and Zuccari. I looked down the dark church, under the vaulted ceiling and began to walk to the alter, under the dome. When I got to it I looked up. It was immense. I saw the bust of Giotto embedded in the wall- between him and Fra Angelica they marked the change in the wind from the medieval world of Dante, toward the 'new way' of naturalism and making man the measure of things rather then God.
I decided that I needed to get some chow, as I hadn't had any breakfast wanting to get out of Rome as quickly as I could. I sought a “Trattoria” and ordered the house special which was usually a large salad, a bit of beef or chicken, a big pate of spaghetti, a small bottle of wine and bread, all for about $6. I headed back to my room. I was exhausted. I fell on my bed with my book but I didn't even open it before I was asleep. I woke the next morning and got into my clothes in a flash. Today I was going to visit her. Anyone who knows me knows that I have this really strange unnatural obsession with the painting of “The Birth of Venus” by Botticelli, the model was the aforementioned Simontta Vesspuci. I first ran across this painting when I was about 10 years old. The reproduction was pretty bad but she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. The pose of Botticelli's Venus is reminiscent of the “Venus D'Medici or Praxiteles' sculpture of Aphrodite, The former a marble sculpture that was a classic [that somehow escaped the grasp of Vatican either cause the Medici's were the Popes bankers or it was a bit too much for the Vatican] in the D'Medici collectionwhich Botticelli had plenty of opportunity to study it. Considering Botticelli's obsession with Simonetta [he's buried at her feet by his own request, so that she would be the first thing he saw at the Last Judgement] and his buddy-buddy relationship with Lorenzo “the magnificent” who also adored her, It sorta makes a great deal of sense how and why this painting got made. It's done with an amazing love and a great deal of care [I believe it took almost 10 years to do]. It also skirted the forbidden pagan beliefs. How this painting escaped the bonfire of the Vanities is a miracle. She is now housed in the Uffizi collection, and this was one of the two reasons I had come to Italy. I entered like a medieval pilgrim on the tour of the holy sites to see the relics of the saints. I sat and contemplated each painting from the Early Icons to the paintings such as Giotto's , through Leanardo's abandoned Nativity, and the painting of the baptism of St. John the baptist, attributed to his master Verochio however the angel in the corner was painted by Da Vinci and because of the excellence of it, Verochio knew he'd been bested and never touched color again...or so the story goes. Michelangelo's circular Holy Family, The plethora of Raphael's Madonna's. I spent the whole day there. Most of it sitting in front of her. I was somehow surprised at how small the painting was. However I indulged myself...I studied every curve, every color, each expression., I studied the delicate shadows on her hands, the almost comical feet, the appearance of the wind blowing her ashore, her attendants quickly bringing her a garment to cover herself, but not quickly enough. Her modesty is apparent and yet the knowing of her blue eyes as you watched her in her nakedness. The realization that you could never touch her but if you had to look...do it quickly. Yeah I know, enough already...you get the picture. She was the only woman Botticelli ever painted, in all the paintings done by him she was his only model. I wandered those hallowed halls until I had to leave and I mean had to, being escorted to the door as everyone had left half an hour before. I also returned the next day. on the third day I visited the Academy to see the David and the unfinished statues that Michelangelo had done. I was also almost run down by a guy on a motorcycle. The Italians are the worst drivers in Europe. While at the Academy I growled at the captive slaves remembering that they had been meant as being part of the tomb in the Church of St. Peter in Chains, and reliving that whole chapter. That evening found me on the street. [I don't want the reader to think that I went back to my room at dusk every night. I did often...I was walking on the average of about 10-15 miles a day and I was tired at the end of it, however I did go out and socialize] I had met these two girls from New Jersey. They were there also looking at the Art and both were attractive, so we had decided to go and get some Italian Ice cream. Italian Ice cream is like a highly addictive drug, its so rich you can only do a small amount at a time and it is to what we call ice cream what silk is to burlap. We were on the streets eating our ice cream and comparing notes, when I noticed that the locals were hurriedly getting off the streets. They were ducking into doorways and getting up on stairs. I had realized the week before what this country was full of and I had turned on some of the skills I'd learned in New Guinea...IE when you see the locals run, you run too. I grabbed these two girls and we stepped into a doorway. About 15 seconds later a herd of Italians came running down the street. There was about 200 of them, and they were fleeing the soccer stadium. It seems there was a soccer game that night that had ended in a riot (imagine that) and if we hadn't had gotten out of the road we'd have been trampled. When the locals felt safe enough to start coming out again, the girls asked if I'd walk them back to their hotel, It was probably going to be an interesting evening in Florence that night...and from the damage to store fronts, and the litter I saw on the streets the next day, it was.
The following day I decided to chase down something I'd read about. These 'objects' were the only work I've ever been able to uncover by an artist by the name of “Zumbo, the magnificent” Every time I have tried to do research on this artist I have come up empty, all I'm given is reproductions of these two bodies of work. He was reportedly the last of the Medici artists, and active in the late 17th early 18th century. His medium was wax. There were two things to see. First was a set of life size wax figures almost identical to the one before and the one after, It was a 3D anatomy text. The first was a wax statue of a cadaver, the next was the cadaver opened, the next was an identical stature as the one previous with one or two of the organs removed to reveal organs and tissue below. In each it was flayed a bit further to the last one which was the cadaver in the same exact pose as a skeleton, There must have been about 40 of these. Then there was the other work. It was a set of 6 diorama's about 12" by 12" by about 18" wide of the experience of the plague in Florence in the 14th century. The detail was amazing, even though the subject matter was a bit Macabre-these were in the Museum of health. I had to walk by the Hall of the innocents, an orphanage designed during the renaissance to mimic the proportions of the human form [considered a good example in art history texts of classic renaissance architecture] and decorated by the ceramic works of Dela Robbia. At the Florence museum of art, there was a Show about Chagall. I never cared for his work, and this show did little to change my opinion. I wandered to the Ponte Vechio, this was a hub for artists, there are shops that sell art and jewelry on the bridge itself. People hung out, drawing portraits, the river, or just reading. It was pretty laid back, sorta reminded me of a student lounge of sorts. I began working on a drawing of a little Italian girl who's mother was reading. She was adorable, about 2-3, just recently got her feet under her and had worked out how to use them. I was about 10-12' away and began drawing her as she wandered around under the watchful eye of her mother. The closest she got to me was about 9'. I guess her mother noticed that I was looking at her daughter and drawing her picture- I guess I could have asked if it was okay before I began to draw, however she came up to me blocking my view of her daughter and began screaming obscenities at me, I apologized and offered her the drawing, she tore it up and spat on me (this is obviously something that happens kinda regular in Italy, as it had happened to me twice in two weeks, and has never happened again since) I got up and left. I went towards Duomo, I wanted to see Museo dell'Opera, the museum of Santa Maria Del Fiore. Within are the actual panels from the gates of paradise, the ones on the door are reproductions, also is what is rumored to be the statue that Michelangelo had planned for his own grave, It's a Pieta that he pushed really hard, the figure of Christ seems almost too delicate, too thin. This piece is credited with the introduction of the style of Mannerism, in which the subjects physical qualities are stretched...El Greco is considered a Mannerist its the period of art which came after the renaissance and just before the Baroque. Also within is the sculpture of the Magdalene done out of wood by Donatello. I sat and contemplated my time in Italy, I would be leaving this place soon. I had waited for years to be here, and the experience had been frustrating, wonderful and disappointing at the same time. The next day I made my reservations to Paris. I had only sprung for 2 baths that week and me and my laundry smelled pretty bad. When I got back to Rome and then on to the Airport I passed a flight that was going to New York. I thought about cashing in my chips and going home. Rome had left me with the concept that the people that lived there were all screwy. Florence seemed a bit more what I expected but a similar distrust and disappointment lingered. I thought I understood why Da Vinci had decided to move the hell out of Italy and move to France to spend his declining years...My next stop Paris and once there I realized why Da Vinci preferred the French.
I checked in and as it was still fairly early I made right for the Duomo. This is the site of the Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral, This where Brunelleschi invented one point perspective- a “recipe”of drawing that solved the concept of placing people and things to a scale that mimicked nature perfectly, (we still use it to do accurate drawings of interiors). It is also the locale of the great dome built by the same Brunelleschi. The cathedral of Santa Maria Del Fiore (Saint Mary of the flower[the flower signified Florence]) was begun in 1296.and after a few starts and stops the church was sorta finished by 1418. The only part incomplete was the planned Octagonal Dome located above the churches Chancel. Although the church was being used, it looked up to heaven and allowed the weather to enter... In 1419 it was decided that in order to resolve this dilemma that they would have a contest. The two heavy hitters in this contest was Brunelleschi and Lorenzo Ghilberti. Now Brunelleschi had already lost one plumb commission to Ghilberti- the doors of the Baptistry of San Giovanni (also in the Duomo). [The Baptistry is one of the oldest buildings in Florence if not the oldest. It was thought during the middle ages to have been a Roman temple to Mars.] These doors are also known as the “gates of Paradise' and many mark the compositions found there as the official beginning of the Renaissance. The compositions of the biblical scenes in the doors have many of the medieval stylistic qualities, but there is a depth and naturalism to them that had never been seen before. There is a story that says That Brunelleschi decided that he wasn't going to lose to Ghilberti again. [I might also add that about every description of Brunelleschi suggests he was a bit of a screwball] when asked by the council running the contest how he would construct the dome Brunelleschi responded that he wouldn't tell them. [It is said he was afraid his idea's would be stolen...obviously still smarting over being bested by his rival the last time]; Instead he suggested a contest. The person who could stand an egg on its end should get the job. After much debate the ruling council decided to indulge Brunelleschi. All the the contenders tried and failed. The last guy up was Brunelleschi. Who took the egg on its bottom rounded end and slightly tapped the egg into place, thus breaking the shell over the air pocket. The egg stood erect. The ruling council suggested that it was too simple, a child could have done that. Brunelleschi exclaimed “Yes, and a child could build the dome if I told him how.” They awarded the commission to him-I've gotten some info that said that the Meddici's were sponsoring him...and what they wanted they usually got. It was decided that both he and Ghilberti worked on the dome together, Ghilberti finally stepped away, the official reason was that Ghilberti claimed he couldn't read Brunelleschi 's handwriting [I'm thinking he got tired of Brunelleschi's obsessive secretive methods-Ghilberti probably figured he'd give the guy all the room he needed to fail and then step in and fix it.] Bunelleschi used the Pantheon as his model, except the recipe for reinforced concrete had long since been lost, so he did it with herringbone patterned brick so that each brick was dependent on the those below and to each side-thus the concrete would have already begun to dry and hold the wet ones in place, and allowed Gravity to provide compression as he slowly closed the sphere. He realized that he needed to use a crane and block and tackle to hoist bricks, mortar and stone up to the top using the available “power source” IE Oxen, great going up but not coming back down - Oxen don't walk backwards. So he designed and built a hoist that had reversible gearing. It's believed that the drawing of just such a device in Leonardo's notebooks was copied from Brunelleschi's working model when The dome was being built. The copper for the lantern above the dome was soldered in the studio of Verochio, while Leonardo was an apprentice there Leonardo writes of one of his first jobs being running solder for this lantern.
It was here that on Easter Sunday in 1478 the Pazzi (contenders to the ruling D'Medicis, both families were the bankers to the popes), backed by the pope, killed Guiliano D' Medici and almost killed his brother Lorenzo “The Magnificant” D'Medici [during mass!] who escaped with serious wounds to the sacristy. The Meddici had been running Florence for two generations already...and reading about it sounds a lot like dealing with the Mafia. Before this all came dowm Lorenzo's Mistress was Simonetta Vespucci, and he planned to marry her to his brother (same brother that was killed). Simonetta Vespucci was sorta the Marilyn Monroe of her day, She's was the most popular amongst the available models to be painted (I read an anonymous report that the artists used to get into public fistfights to settle who'd she'd model for next) her untimely death from TB didn't stop this-there were portraits of her being made as long as 15 years after she died. For me this was like sitting in the middle of Yankee stadium for a baseball fan or Wright Brothers bicycle shop for fans of airplanes or Edison's Lab for people who like gizmo's [Or in my Mother's Father case, a huge fan of Westerns, when he made the trip to Tombstone AZ ] This place was the hub of the Italian Renaissance- it had all pretty much happened here. I walked to the bronze star embedded in the ground to show where one point perspective was invented. I walked over to the Baptistery and saw 'the Gates of Paradise' and then I walked into the church. Within were Frescoes by Andrea del Castagno, Giorgio Vasari and Federico Zuccari. Many partook in the cathedral project (other than the above mentioned Brunelleschi and Ghiberti) we can name Giotto, Andrea Pisano, Andrea del Castagno, Paolo Uccello, Luca della Robbia, Michelozzo, as well as the formentioned Vasari and Zuccari. I looked down the dark church, under the vaulted ceiling and began to walk to the alter, under the dome. When I got to it I looked up. It was immense. I saw the bust of Giotto embedded in the wall- between him and Fra Angelica they marked the change in the wind from the medieval world of Dante, toward the 'new way' of naturalism and making man the measure of things rather then God.
I decided that I needed to get some chow, as I hadn't had any breakfast wanting to get out of Rome as quickly as I could. I sought a “Trattoria” and ordered the house special which was usually a large salad, a bit of beef or chicken, a big pate of spaghetti, a small bottle of wine and bread, all for about $6. I headed back to my room. I was exhausted. I fell on my bed with my book but I didn't even open it before I was asleep. I woke the next morning and got into my clothes in a flash. Today I was going to visit her. Anyone who knows me knows that I have this really strange unnatural obsession with the painting of “The Birth of Venus” by Botticelli, the model was the aforementioned Simontta Vesspuci. I first ran across this painting when I was about 10 years old. The reproduction was pretty bad but she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. The pose of Botticelli's Venus is reminiscent of the “Venus D'Medici or Praxiteles' sculpture of Aphrodite, The former a marble sculpture that was a classic [that somehow escaped the grasp of Vatican either cause the Medici's were the Popes bankers or it was a bit too much for the Vatican] in the D'Medici collectionwhich Botticelli had plenty of opportunity to study it. Considering Botticelli's obsession with Simonetta [he's buried at her feet by his own request, so that she would be the first thing he saw at the Last Judgement] and his buddy-buddy relationship with Lorenzo “the magnificent” who also adored her, It sorta makes a great deal of sense how and why this painting got made. It's done with an amazing love and a great deal of care [I believe it took almost 10 years to do]. It also skirted the forbidden pagan beliefs. How this painting escaped the bonfire of the Vanities is a miracle. She is now housed in the Uffizi collection, and this was one of the two reasons I had come to Italy. I entered like a medieval pilgrim on the tour of the holy sites to see the relics of the saints. I sat and contemplated each painting from the Early Icons to the paintings such as Giotto's , through Leanardo's abandoned Nativity, and the painting of the baptism of St. John the baptist, attributed to his master Verochio however the angel in the corner was painted by Da Vinci and because of the excellence of it, Verochio knew he'd been bested and never touched color again...or so the story goes. Michelangelo's circular Holy Family, The plethora of Raphael's Madonna's. I spent the whole day there. Most of it sitting in front of her. I was somehow surprised at how small the painting was. However I indulged myself...I studied every curve, every color, each expression., I studied the delicate shadows on her hands, the almost comical feet, the appearance of the wind blowing her ashore, her attendants quickly bringing her a garment to cover herself, but not quickly enough. Her modesty is apparent and yet the knowing of her blue eyes as you watched her in her nakedness. The realization that you could never touch her but if you had to look...do it quickly. Yeah I know, enough already...you get the picture. She was the only woman Botticelli ever painted, in all the paintings done by him she was his only model. I wandered those hallowed halls until I had to leave and I mean had to, being escorted to the door as everyone had left half an hour before. I also returned the next day. on the third day I visited the Academy to see the David and the unfinished statues that Michelangelo had done. I was also almost run down by a guy on a motorcycle. The Italians are the worst drivers in Europe. While at the Academy I growled at the captive slaves remembering that they had been meant as being part of the tomb in the Church of St. Peter in Chains, and reliving that whole chapter. That evening found me on the street. [I don't want the reader to think that I went back to my room at dusk every night. I did often...I was walking on the average of about 10-15 miles a day and I was tired at the end of it, however I did go out and socialize] I had met these two girls from New Jersey. They were there also looking at the Art and both were attractive, so we had decided to go and get some Italian Ice cream. Italian Ice cream is like a highly addictive drug, its so rich you can only do a small amount at a time and it is to what we call ice cream what silk is to burlap. We were on the streets eating our ice cream and comparing notes, when I noticed that the locals were hurriedly getting off the streets. They were ducking into doorways and getting up on stairs. I had realized the week before what this country was full of and I had turned on some of the skills I'd learned in New Guinea...IE when you see the locals run, you run too. I grabbed these two girls and we stepped into a doorway. About 15 seconds later a herd of Italians came running down the street. There was about 200 of them, and they were fleeing the soccer stadium. It seems there was a soccer game that night that had ended in a riot (imagine that) and if we hadn't had gotten out of the road we'd have been trampled. When the locals felt safe enough to start coming out again, the girls asked if I'd walk them back to their hotel, It was probably going to be an interesting evening in Florence that night...and from the damage to store fronts, and the litter I saw on the streets the next day, it was.
The following day I decided to chase down something I'd read about. These 'objects' were the only work I've ever been able to uncover by an artist by the name of “Zumbo, the magnificent” Every time I have tried to do research on this artist I have come up empty, all I'm given is reproductions of these two bodies of work. He was reportedly the last of the Medici artists, and active in the late 17th early 18th century. His medium was wax. There were two things to see. First was a set of life size wax figures almost identical to the one before and the one after, It was a 3D anatomy text. The first was a wax statue of a cadaver, the next was the cadaver opened, the next was an identical stature as the one previous with one or two of the organs removed to reveal organs and tissue below. In each it was flayed a bit further to the last one which was the cadaver in the same exact pose as a skeleton, There must have been about 40 of these. Then there was the other work. It was a set of 6 diorama's about 12" by 12" by about 18" wide of the experience of the plague in Florence in the 14th century. The detail was amazing, even though the subject matter was a bit Macabre-these were in the Museum of health. I had to walk by the Hall of the innocents, an orphanage designed during the renaissance to mimic the proportions of the human form [considered a good example in art history texts of classic renaissance architecture] and decorated by the ceramic works of Dela Robbia. At the Florence museum of art, there was a Show about Chagall. I never cared for his work, and this show did little to change my opinion. I wandered to the Ponte Vechio, this was a hub for artists, there are shops that sell art and jewelry on the bridge itself. People hung out, drawing portraits, the river, or just reading. It was pretty laid back, sorta reminded me of a student lounge of sorts. I began working on a drawing of a little Italian girl who's mother was reading. She was adorable, about 2-3, just recently got her feet under her and had worked out how to use them. I was about 10-12' away and began drawing her as she wandered around under the watchful eye of her mother. The closest she got to me was about 9'. I guess her mother noticed that I was looking at her daughter and drawing her picture- I guess I could have asked if it was okay before I began to draw, however she came up to me blocking my view of her daughter and began screaming obscenities at me, I apologized and offered her the drawing, she tore it up and spat on me (this is obviously something that happens kinda regular in Italy, as it had happened to me twice in two weeks, and has never happened again since) I got up and left. I went towards Duomo, I wanted to see Museo dell'Opera, the museum of Santa Maria Del Fiore. Within are the actual panels from the gates of paradise, the ones on the door are reproductions, also is what is rumored to be the statue that Michelangelo had planned for his own grave, It's a Pieta that he pushed really hard, the figure of Christ seems almost too delicate, too thin. This piece is credited with the introduction of the style of Mannerism, in which the subjects physical qualities are stretched...El Greco is considered a Mannerist its the period of art which came after the renaissance and just before the Baroque. Also within is the sculpture of the Magdalene done out of wood by Donatello. I sat and contemplated my time in Italy, I would be leaving this place soon. I had waited for years to be here, and the experience had been frustrating, wonderful and disappointing at the same time. The next day I made my reservations to Paris. I had only sprung for 2 baths that week and me and my laundry smelled pretty bad. When I got back to Rome and then on to the Airport I passed a flight that was going to New York. I thought about cashing in my chips and going home. Rome had left me with the concept that the people that lived there were all screwy. Florence seemed a bit more what I expected but a similar distrust and disappointment lingered. I thought I understood why Da Vinci had decided to move the hell out of Italy and move to France to spend his declining years...My next stop Paris and once there I realized why Da Vinci preferred the French.
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