The City is Sinking, The City is Sinking!

Again, I wish to apologize for the exceptionally long break in between my posts, but in my defense, I spent a week in Venice, then spent another ten days on spring break, and then returned to Santa Chiara whereupon I worked diligently on all of the schoolwork I avoided the previous two weeks.  So here, goes, installation one of several describing my European meanderings.

Our adventures began at 6:00 Tuesday morning (the 15th) when we woke up in time to finish some last minute packing and cleaning and then walk to the train station.  It was strange to say goodbye to Castiglion Fiorentino if just for the next two weeks; it’s cobblestoned medieval streets have become synonymous with “home.”  It was also strange to have my entire life packed in a single backpack, weighing in at around 10 kilos (22 pounds).  Upon our arrival in Florence, we stopped off in the McDonald’s across the street so people could get cappuccinos and the rest of us could use the bathrooms.  Oddly, McDonald's has become my beacon of clean free bathrooms, I'm there all the time.  It was then back on a train at 9:30 to Venice.  Most of my train ride was spent sleeping.  Two trains and an exceptionally long chartered boat ride later, we were at our hotel on the island of Lido, an island in the Venice area but not on the main island that everybody knows.  It was a hard concept to grasp that we would be traveling either by boat or foot for the next few days.  No trains.  No buses, well, none on wheels.  Venice has absolutely no vehicles but it was quite a nice break from the hustle and bustle of even just our small town where you practically are forced to hug a wall if ever a car passes.   We were given free time for lunch and then we headed to St. Mark’s square for a tour of the Doge’s Palace.  Basically, the people of Venice elect a Doge whose sole purpose is to be a figure head; he has only the semblance of importance, not any actual political influence, almost like the royal family of England.  The Doge’s Palace therefore, is quite ornate and spectacular, especially due to the Moorish influence typical of Venice, but every single room of political importance has a chair at the front of the room designated for the Doge but six on either side for the people who actually hold political power, his judges.  We spent several hours looking at the massive guilded ceilings and frescoes, like we do pretty much everywhere we go.  It was no surprise then that what most people were interested in were the prison cells located in the dungeons of the palace.  To reach the cells, one must first cross a bridge called “the Bridge of Sighs” in reference to the sighs that prisoners would emite on their way to the cells where they would never leave.  The bridge has a couple of gridded windows so that prisoners could see their family members for the last time.  In actuality, the majority of prisoners were not there for lifelong sentences though Venice was infamous for its torture and its refusal to feed prisoners unless they paid for their food.  This last practice led to the creation of monastic brotherhoods devoted to feeding those prisoners who were too poor to pay for their food so all of the cells have food delivery holes.  For those of you who are unaware, Venice is sinking.  I’ll go into more detail on that later, but think about the fact that these cells are underground.  It is not uncommon for the city to flood which means that the cells would flood.  In these instances, the prisoners were left in their cells where many of them drowned.  These cells were used through the 19^th century.  Hard to believe.  We were free for the night after our tour so me, Kate, Megan, and Cameron spent a couple of hours walking around the streets of Venice, admiring the Murano glasswork and the Carnivale masks on the Ponte Rialto.  It had been a long day and we were all exhausted and hungry so we took the boat back to Lido, almost getting on the wrong one and then running for another which we proceeded to miss and then had to wait for the next one.  Unfortunately, the weather is awfully limiting when bad so it was difficult to enjoy the city that night.

Wednesday, though we weren’t meeting up at St. Mark’s until about 9:30, Kate, Megan, and I went early to sketch.  It was raining, wet, and cold but it was very relaxing to sit under the loggia of the Doge’s Palace, looking out across the obviously sinking square in which puddles were forming, not just from the rain but from water seeping up through holes in the paving stones.  I didn’t sketch for too long though, mostly because it was exceptionally cold and eventually my fingers froze to the extent that I could barely hold a pencil anymore.  It was around that time that the rest of the group met up with us so we could go on a tour of St. Mark’s Basilica.  The church is quite impressive in several aspects; first, the fact that it is, like the rest of the city, affected by the tides with water reaching depths of several inches to feet of water welling within the church, making the foundation sink in places, yet still it stands, wave-like floor, off-kilter arches, and all.  Second, the building is covered in mosaics, and not just any mosaics, but composed of miniscule guilded tiles so that when the sun shines in or artificial lights are pointed towards the walls and ceiling, the building becomes filled with a warm glow, enticing the spirit and elevating the soul.  The Greek-cross architecture of the building is something incredible to behold for sure, but the ambiance created by these mosaics is what truly gives the building its ethereal characteristics.  The building also contains a collection of carvings and a set of four gold cast horses from Egypt (which were stolen by Constantine, taken to Constantinople, then stolen by the Venicians, then stolen by Napoleon and taken to France, and are now finally back in Venice).  Looking at the stone sculpture, I felt completely inadequate with the little knick-knacks I make in my stone-carving class.  Of course I understand that the masons who created these works of art did so all day, every day, but still, I wish I could have that kind of prowess with a chisel and hammer.  We were then free to wander the city for the rest of the day, but by this time, it was raining profusely, we were cold, wet, and hungry, and it just was not going to be worth it to stay on the island so again we trudged back to our hotel in Lido, ate lunch, and then took advantage of the way rainy weather just puts you straight to sleep.  I spent much of my time wandering around Lido, embracing the quiet, abandoned streets made all the more eerie by the misty glow of the streetlights.

I then went to sleep only to wake up at about 7:00 in the morning, eat breakfast, and then take the “bus” to San Marco which was once again flooded.  There was a rather large amount of people in uniform walking around and it took us a while to realize that they were gearing up for a celebration of the 150^th anniversary of the unification of Italy.  Megan, Kate, and I just walked around the city, looking at stores as the city woke up.   We were then forced to rush to the Peggy Guggenheim museum.  The building was originally the home of Peggy Guggenheim, one of the most prolific modern art collectors in the world, but it is now a museum, housing and displaying her collection as well as temporary exhibits.  I loved the museum.  I loved the art.  I was a little sardonic towards the Wish Tree that Yoko Ono gave Peggy Guggenheim but I wrote down a wish and stuck it on a branch like everybody else.  Unfortunately, most of the people I was with were not quite as enthralled as I was about the museum.  I wandered through the building, fascinated by the pieces, probably 50% of which I had just learned about in my history of modern art class last semester.  Things like Ernst and his use of decalcomania, Miro, Tanguy, Giacometi (which reminded me of a Dani Caravan creation), Dali, a mobile by Calder, Rothko, Arp, Albers, Vasarely, Pollock, Severini, Man Ray rayographs, Brancusi (Bird in Space – it was RIGHT there, I could have touched it had I not thought that to be blasphemous!!!), and Klee.  I could not help but marvel at the Mondrian, the paintings responsible for such architecture as the Schroder house and of course I could have stood for hours in front of the surrealist Magritte paintings, some of my absolute favorites.  One of my friends walked up behind me as I, for the second time, stared at Fontana’s Spatial Concepts, Expectation.  He looked at the work and uttered what I’m sure most people in my group thought when they saw it; “You’ve got to be kidding me.”  It took a lot to not get upset, even though I know that I might have said the same thing less than a year ago.  In his defense, the painting is not a lot to look at.  In fact, you might not call it a painting at all.  Fontana took a canvas, painted it completely white, and then slashed the canvas five times.  I suppose to someone who has never studied the painting, that is all it appears to be but it is so so much more than that.  His slashing of the canvas was monumental in art; it wasn’t that he made art on the canvas, it was that he made the convas itself the piece of art, defying the schools that said "art" had to be a painting.  I love the painting and all that it stands for so it killed me a couple of days ago when we discussed the museum in class and everyone around me agreed that they didn’t like the it, that it was essentially the epitome of what they think is wrong with modern art.  Maybe they’re right, maybe I’m the narrow-minded one because I like to think that I am educated on the subject.  But the fact that that painting was brought up multiple times, the fact that people remembered it, whether they liked it or not, I think is exactly the point of modern art.  If it is not memorable enough or doesn’t make any impression on you, then what is the point?  I recently walked through the Uffizi gallery in Florence which houses works by such artists as Da Vinci, Giotto, and Rafael, yet I could not tell you one thing that stood out, that made me think.  I could not tell you who painted what except that it was Renaissance or Gothic.  Yes, Botticeli's Birth of Venus was cool, but only because the establishment of art tells me that it's cool.  Okay, that is enough of my rant, ask me one day how I really feel and I’ll go for hours.  Anyways, we left the museum to walk around the city since it was the first day that the weather had really permited us to explore in comfort.  While walking around, we happened on a group of Italians singing and waving flags, clearly for the unification anniversary.  It was really neat to witness and again made me feel like I was actually participating in something truly Italian.


Spring break and Germany is on its way!! 
but until then, Ciao,


Becca

Amalfi; sounds like "I'm Alfi"

Friday, we left the hotel in Rome fairly early in the morning in order to get to the Amalfi Coast.  A bus picked us up and then drove us to Pompeii.  I had been waiting all trip for this as I have always heard from my mother that my grandfather visited Pompeii while he was in the service and it was one of his favorite places, so, needless to say, I was eager to see it for myself.  While a lot of people in my group were complaintive about it being somewhat of a letdown, I was absolutely fascinated.  It’s just unbelievable to walk down alleyways, designated occasionally as a one-way street by the relief of a single donkey carved into the cornerstone of a building.  The people of Pompeii were exceptionally advanced;  their stores were fronted by sliding wooden doors and their streets periodically have raised stones which served the dual purpose of ancient speed bumps and stepping stones from one sidewalk to another to avoid wettig one’s feet.  What's even more amazing about this city's accomplishments is the fact that they were buried under feet of ash for over a thousand years yet now you can walk through the city and relive each of its intricacies.  One of the most fascinating things to me was the “red light district.”  The main brothel was a two-storied building, allowing the women on the second floor balcony to display their attributes to possible clientele passing below.  It contained ten rooms, each with a stone bed (apparently they once were heavily padded with straw), as well as some rather interesting frescoes in the downstairs hallway.  These frescos were not there for inspiration nor decoration but rather served as a sort of “menu” which traveling merchants, who could not speak the language, would point to in order to designate what they wanted.  (How’s that for being euphemistic?  Just trying to keep it kosher).  Our tour guide took us to a restaurant where we got what was probably the most disappointing pizza I have had since arriving in Italy, at least I didn’t have to pay for it.  Soon it was back on the bus for what I would have to say was the most nauseating ride I have ever been on.  Partially the fault of the bus driver who shifted like a 10 year old kid and partially the fact that the road curved around the edge of mountains along the coastline, everybody could not get off that bus fast enough by the time we finally got to Sorrento.  Feeling sick, I just went upstairs to my room and crawled into the first legitimate bed I have slept in since arriving in Italy (I have a bunk bed at Santa Chiara and wound up with the cot at the hotel).  After a short nap, we went downstairs to the dinning room of our hotel.  I don’t know exactly how much this hotel cost but it could not have been cheap.  We were served bread and a three course meal by waiters in tuxes and, unlike at Santa Chiara, we didn’t have to clean up after ourselves, stack our plates, or clear serving dishes.  Megan and I left after dinner to walk around the city a bit.  We stopped off almost immediately at a gelateria.  Megan and Matt, our TA, each got a tiramasu which I tasted but did not like at all, and then I was intrigued by a little plastic parfait glass with what looked like a custard and caramel.  If you know me, you probably know that I love flan and crème brulee (both of which I have successfully made, I might add)  so this looked rather enticing.  I greatly enjoyed my dessert which turned out to be Panna Cotta.  Yet another recipe for me to try when I get back.  We met up then with a couple more friends and continued walking around the city, not seeing anything of much importance but I still loved it.  Compared to Rome, Sorrento was so calm, unpretentious, and unassuming.  Plus with a sea breeze coming across the coast and a distant view of the lights of Naples and the dark hulking mass that is the remnants of Mount Vesuvius across the bay, I finally felt relaxed for the first time since leaving C.F.  Rome was just too busy and flashy for me.  We made our way back to the hotel, spent the night watching a movie, and then got some rest before our busy day on Saturday.

Breakfast was quite an affair in the morning with the same tuxedo’ed waiters making us cappuccinos.  Another bus then picked us up for our tour of the Amalfi coast.  A lot of us were rather hesitant to embark on another bus journey considering the previous day, but we figured we could hopefully withstand the neausia for the sake of the trip.  Turns out, our driver was much much better that day and it was something I would never have forgiven myself if I would have missed out.  We spent probably two hours driving along the coastline, on a road suspended partially off the edge of a cliff so that just looking down was about the only thrill-seeking adrenaline rush I needed for the day.  This road was actually widened a few years ago, however it is still so narrow that tour buses cannot pass each other unless their drivers are exceptionally skilled and willing to get an inch away from cars on either side.  No joke.  If there had been no windows on our bus, we would have been able to touch the other bus as we passed.  We drove through Positano, countless other cities, and then stopped in Amalfi for lunch.  On our way to Amalfi, we stopped off in a pottery and jewelry store.  Almost everybody from my trip bought a ton of stuff, ranging from cups to olive oil pourers, wine corks, and lots of pearl or coral jewelry pieces.  I was very tempted to buy a necklace of twisted strands of river pearls but I’m still holding out for the Ponte Vecchio.  This stop was also the first time we saw the typical Sorento lemon.  Think etrog times ten.  They’re massive.  It was not until we got to Amalfi that we got to experience the true potential of those lemons.  Amalfi is famous for its Limoncello, a liqueur made from the rind of Sorento lemons.  A shop owner gave Megan and I a taste but it was nothing like what I expected.  I assumed it would taste bitter and make my mouth pucker but instead it was sweet, smooth, and very enjoyable.  We wandered around the main street of the city, gazing longingly at all of the sweets and hand-painted pottery in each window.  Megan and I then walked to the pier where we our lunches while looking across the blue water.  The bus ride back was pretty uneventful, I fell asleep for the majority of it.  When we got back to the hotel, most people went to sleep or watched movies but Megan and I wanted to experience the city a bit more.  We wound our way down to the coast.  I cannot recall a more gorgeous sky possibly since that one Aggie football game (if you were there, you know exactly what I’m talking about).  After marveling at the view for an extensive amount of time, we finally made our way back up the mountain towards the center of town.  We passed shops of all shapes and sizes and stopped off at a wine store so that we could have some table wine with dinner.  What we found was a high end store with some wines dating back even to the 70s.  I didn’t even attempt to look at those price tags, but Megan and I were able to find a 2006 Montepulciano d’Abruzzo that was rather inexpensive considering and turned out to be my favorite wine that I have had here yet.  It was nice to walk through a pedestrian friendly city, with no other tourists and an actual Italian culture after spending the week in Rome.  

We had to be packed and ready to go before breakfast Sunday morning because we would be leaving immediately afterwards for Naples.  Honestly, there is not much to say about Naples.  The state of deterioration that the city has gone through since the fall of the Bourbon family hundreds of years ago is appalling and disheartening.  Walking through the Spanish ghetto was quite eye-opening.  Yes, we sometimes joke about having to avoid gypsies and tourist traps, but there is nothing more humbling than walking through the squalor in which the Italian lower-class live.  Grid-like in nature, each intersection of streets in this neighborhood would just give us multiple views of narrow streets with laundry drapped between the buildings on either side.  No building in this city is sacred; every last one is tagged with graffiti while every other doorway has clearly been inhabited by a homeless person sometime within the past week.  I was fascinated by the difference in the unforgiving realism of a place such as this and the pomp and circumstance of Rome.  While I would never recommend Naples as a tourist destination, I’m glad we went and got to experience a different side of Italy, one not touched by tourism, propoganda, or idealism.  On a happier note, I had a very enjoyable lunch of real Neapolitan pizza.  For those of you who are unaware, Naples is in fact the birthplace of pizza so I can now say I went right to the origin.  It was excellent, obviously.  Megan and I actually ate with four of our professors so we not only got good pizza but intelligent conversation as well.  Most of the rest of the day was spent traveling back to Santa Chiara.  Two trains and six hours later, we ate dinner and then got to work on two research papers due during the upcoming the week. Thankfully, I had had an amazing week and weekend before, the memories of which sustained me through my long hours of work.

More to come soon,

Ciao e a dopo

Becca

When in Rome... use Cliches

Up until last Tuesday, I hadn't done much since my last post.  I had a project due for studio Monday so a lot of my week and weekend was spent on schoolwork.  Monday, we presented and then I went to my stone carving class.  I kept working on the piece that I had started the previous week and even decided to take off enough stone to make it into a three dimensional shape instead of just a plain ordinary block with a relief.  Maestro Bruni seemed fairly impressed as somebody else came into his shop and he specifically showed him my work; he did motion towards everybody else's as well, but he made a point to ask where mine was because I had started working on a new one which was just an A&M symbol.  We spent pretty much the entire time working and then made our way back up to Santa Chiara for dinner and to pack for our Rome trip the next morning.  Actually, I spent the majority of the night dominating in ping pong doubles.  But close enough.

one of my stone carving pieces plus my chisel and hammer

Tuesday morning was early, hurried, and stressful.  I had all of my clothes and food packed up for the next six days which meant I was carrying a fair amount of stuff, something I’m not so accustomed to.  We hopped on a train and spent the next few hours riding through the Tuscan countryside until we got to Rome where we were picked up by a bus and driven in the direction of our hotel.  I noticed as we drove that there was a building with Jewish stars and Hebrew on it and tried to remember the exact location so that I could maybe return some day, though it turns out I actually returned a few hours later.  The bus dropped us off after a short while so that we could walk yet another ten minutes to our hotel as it was inaccessible by bus.  Our hotel was interesting in that it was only located on only two floors of a 6 story building.  One set of rooms was on the second floor but us unlucky ones had to climb up another four flights, passing peoples’ homes and ironically an architect’s studio, to reach our rooms on the fifth floor.  For those of you who have not been to Europe, the first floor here is designated as floor 0, meaning that staying on the 5^th floor entails climbing 5 flights of stairs.  Admittedly, there was an elevator, but with a group of 50, a 3 person capacity limit on the elevator, and my lack of patience, I went up a lot of stairs over the course of the next few days.  We were given some free time to grab lunch so I walked around with some friends until they found an acceptable sandwhich shop.  Since it was a glorious, sunny day, we made our way to a piazza just behind our hotel so we could enjoy the weather as we ate.  Roman life was all around us in the form of street performers and artists displaying their pieces, imploring you to help them make a living.  From afar, we watched a man dressed as a cowboy and painted the exact same metallic grey of the streetlamp upon which he stood and listened to the man next to him, a guitarist, singing a cover of Cream’s  Tales of Brave Ulysses.  We sat down on a curbside to eat our lunches while watching people pass by and avoiding the pigeons begging for food.  With a little free time left over, my friends got gelato and then we circled the piazza (which had in ancient times been a circus, the remnants of which can be seen by the oval-like shape of the piazza and the obelisk in its center), stopping inside of a stationary shop.  It was pretty difficult not to buy anything; leatherbound books with hand-made paper, ink fountain pens, wax seal sets.  The most tempting, at least for me, was a leatherbound wine book.  It was in both English and Italian and contained pages to fill in of the name of the wine, the bouquet, the tannins, acid, rating, year, location, etc.  All organized with tabs entitled “Rosso,” “Bianco,” “Champagne,” and “Liqueur.”  My favorite part though was at the front of the book.  There was a single page with years dating from 1975 to 2001 on one axis and locations on the other, and then, in the middle, were starred ratings of the harvest of each of the regions based on the year.  How I would have loved to walk around Italy with that in my pocket!  I managed to convince myself that I could survive without it or come back at some later date so we left for our guided tour around Rome.  The tour itself was lacking and I got pretty disenchanted with listening to our guide ramble on and on about dates for five hours but his running commentary, though dry, did nothing to deprive me of the awesomeness that is Rome.  One of the first things we did was walk through the Jewish Ghetto where the Jews of Rome were forced to live from the 15^th century essentially through the Holocaust.  It truly is inspiring to walk through the physical displays of persecution over multiple centuries only to approach a street of modern times in which a Jewish community still thrives with its massive synagogue (topped by a square dome to differentiate itself from all of the churches of the city) and multiple Kosher restaraunts, bakeries, and cafes.  A church faces the synagogue with an image of Jesus and a biblical quote, the subject of which, from a Jewish perspective, clearly states that the way of Jesus is correct and all those of disagree are lost.  Instead of being offended by this, the Jewish community of Rome apparently took a different perspective, choosing to maintain the quote and painting to instead remind themselves of the torment they have withstood.  One day I would hope to go back to attend a service as I am sure the interior could probably rival that of St. Peter’s or the Duomo.  Our tour quickly passed by the Theater of Marcelus and the Emperor’s palace which faces a piazza containing a copy of the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius.  It’s a little strange to casually pass these things that I have spent years learning about when their importance was stressed so consistently in all of my art and architectural history classes.  We made our way to the ancien Roman Forum but took a pit stop at one of Rome’s hundred of water spigots.  If you ever get a chance to go to Rome, drink the water; it runs freely and constantly from all of these fountains and tastes fantastic, refreshing, and cold.  We again just sort of did an overview of the Roman Forum which unfortunately is not particularly well preserved.  It is a testament to the effects of Christianity on the city that the only remaining buildings from ancient pagan times are those which were turned into churches, the other ones being stripped of their marble facades and columns for the benefit of other churches.  It was from there that we started walking past the column and markets of Trajan down the street which Mussolini had constructed during the Fascist era.  It was then that we realized we were walking towards the colosseum.  

throwing up a gig 'em

The building truly is so incredible, there is little I can say that could adequately describe it.  Not only is it massive, you might even call it colossal (though the name in fact originates from the colossal statue of Nero that once stood next to it), it is ancient and the combination of those two facts is almost unbelieveable.  Though only about a third of it has withstood time, it’s pretty awesome that even that has lasted.  The holes in the building once housed structural metal tie beams which have since been stolen, yet the building still stands.  We were too late to go inside and our tour was finally over, but we were now probably two or three miles away from our hotel and were starving so we walked to a local pizzeria in the direction of the hotel.  Everybody was clearly exhausted so we agreed to take about an hour break at the hotel but an hour turned into three when I fell asleep in a friend’s room as we attempted to watch Star Wars.  I think I made it through the text at the beginning and then was pretty much out until it ended.  Not wanting to stay stuck in a hotel my first night in Rome, I gathered a few other friends and we decided to walk around the city.  We sort of just ambled around but then accidentally happened upon the Trevi Fountain.  It’s pretty neat at night, completely lit with couples all around making wishes on coins.  One Euro to wish that you will return to Rome and two to wish that you will return to Rome and find true love.  After the fountain, we made our way towards St. Peters.  While we just saw it across the river from a distance, it was still incredible, completely lit up and dominating the skyline.  After another gelato stop, we went to the hotel to get some sleep as some of us had decided to wake up early to actually visit the interior of the Colosseum.

I supposed to meet some friends outside the hotel at 8:15 but of course I didn’t wake up until 8:14 so quickly dressed and packed, only about 15 minutes late. After a bit of confusion about how to buy tickets, we finally figured out how to get inside the Colosseum.  I truly enjoyed myself.  Though it was exceptionally cold, it was fantastic trying to analyze which parts to the building are ancient Roman, which are Christian renovations, and how difficult it would be to try to use the tie beam holes to scale the walls (not that I ever would, that would be just about as blasphemous as you can get).  It’s a good thing we got there early as tour after tour soon invaded the structure and it just became too crowded.  I can’t imagine what it must look like on a midafternoon of the high season, it being this crowded on a frigid February morning.  After ogling the building for a while, we made our way towards the Pantheon.  Italian medieval and ancient towns are strange in relation to the use of sight lines.  Most buildings are just happened upon without a formal or grand entry.  So it is with the Pantheon so that one second you are walking down a narrow street and the next, you are in the middle of a large and noisy piazza facing one of the structural marvels of ancient and pretty much modern times as well.  The duomo was pretty impressive until you think about this building.  

No cracks, no imperfections, and built fourteen centuries before.  The intricate marble work was grand and impressive, but nothing was more impactful to me than the coffered dome rising high above me and culminating in the open occulous.  For a moment, we sat down to watch the large circle of sunlight slide slowly down the side of the dome but then it was off to the Trevi Fountain once again.  I didn’t think it was quite as gorgeous in the sunlight but it was by no means any less impressive.  I’m not so sure what the history of the fountain is though I know it has something to do with seahorses; however the sculptor took "seahorses" a little too literally and carved horses physically coming out of the sea while Poseidon towers behind them.  My group ran into another at the fountain where we did a little mix and match action because everybody had different plans for lunch.  

It was then off to the Vatican.  Honestly, the Vatican was a bit of a let down.  The Piazza that Michelangelo designed seemed smaller in scale than I had expected and while the corridors full of paintings, tapestry, and sculpture were fantastic, they also seemed endless and quickly became repetitive.  Plus the fact that we were surrounded by a loud group of barbarian Italian children and our tour guide practically whispered did not help the situation.  The Sistine chapel was also a bit of a letdown, moreso because of the environment, but still.  We were crammed inside of the tiny chapel with hundreds of other people, all trying to catch a glimpse of Michelangelo’s famous frescos while ushers constantly shouted “no video, no photo,” though of course there were multiple offenders who just had to take their own, professional ones obviously would not suffice.  It was an experience to stand directly under the image of god and Adam, but I was actually more intrigued by the Last Judgement altarpiece and Perugino’s Delivery of the Keys.  It felt like we were being hearded like cattle out of the Sisting Chapel and down another hallway and then finally, we were in St. Peter’s Basilica, the largest church in the world.  Maybe I don’t like crowds or maybe I’m claustrophobic, but entering St. Peter’s was like a breath of fresh air.  The massive nave towered above us in all of its Renaissance glory while the adorning statues were larger than life-size.  Even the lettering underneath the clerestory is taller than I am at six feet high.  The plan, like most curches, is made up of a central nave crossed by a transept while the intersection of the two is capped by a dome.  This dome, however, is large enough to fit the Statue of Libery in, if that gives you any sense of scale.  I especially loved being able to stare up at the Barberini family baldacchino, one of my favorite pieces of sculpture, massive in scale and a little out of the ordinary with its bee-adorned spiral columns.  We finally exited St. Peter’s and the Vatican and then walked to a restaurant to eat dinner.  It was my one night of splurging in Rome with a huge pasta dish and wine but the company and conversation were excellent, generally revolving of course, around architecture.  

the baldaccino, made from bronze that originally adorned the pantheon (but they had enough left over to still make 100 cannons)

Thursday morning we woke up to go on our tour at 8:15. Our first stop was the pantheon where everybody, for inexplicable reasons because it was freezing, sat down and started sketching.  I tried to draw for a bit and managed mainly to sketch of the floor plan and the way that light affected the coffers but then we all left to get cappuccinos.    Went on our tour with the same dry tour guide we had endured our first day in Rome so we got tired of it pretty fast. One of the few interesting parts of the day was when we saw a church that that had been built on top of another church that had been built on top of a Roman basilica so that means that it went three levels down.  We then made our way to St. John the Latern which is apparently the most “important church in rome and the world.”  St. John’s is actually the Cathedral of Rome, not St. Peters though why it is called St. John’s I cannot fathom because this cathedral is supposedly the one that houses the heads of both St. Peter and St. Paul.  Go figure.  Catholicism confuses me.  We were then led to the Palazzo Popolo where I ate on the steps of a fountain, sketched a little, and then took the tram to the Maxxi museum, Zaha Hadid’s most recent creation. 

the stairways inside the Maxxi

I really liked the building with its stark black and white contrasted with a permanent red light installation.  It was quite a compliment when a friend whose opinion I greatly value, asked what an aerial photo of the museum reminded me of.  In a quizzical manner, I responded, “Your theater project?” but he said instead, “Your project for Mark.”  It was one thing that he thought a world-famous museum was reminiscent of one of my projects but it was entirely another that he even remembered it considering I completed that project last spring and he wasn’t even in my class at the time.  It must have made a real impression.  Feel good moment of the week.  The more I walked throught he building though, the more I had to agree with him.  There were certain moments throughout the building that I could tell she had created on purpose to elicit an emotion that was similar to the method and means I had inteded for my project.  I spent my last night in Rome hanging out with friends so all in all, it was a great ending to a great trip.  And then it was on to the coast...

...but that's another story for another time so,

a dopo e ciao,

Becca

American Pizza, You've Got a Lot to Learn

Let me preface this blog with an apology.  I'm terribly sorry I have not put up a post in a while and therefore this one is a bit long.  I haven't forgotten, I promise, we just get terrible internet and, contrary to popular belief, I am still in school, I'm not just gallivanting my way around Europe (well, not yet at least).

  We had to be up at around 7:00 Thursday morning to make it to Piazza Garibaldi by 8:00 because we were going to the Chiesa dell'Autostrada del sol San Giovanni Batista (quite a mouthful if you ask me).  This church was deisgned by Giovanni Michelucci to memorialize all of the workers who died while building the Autostrada (the highway).  It’s this awesome, modern looking building slightly in the middle of nowhere, directly in between Rome and Milan.  Similar to Le Corbusier’s Notre Dame de Haut, this building is made all of architectural concrete and stone from all over Italy.  It is sort of like the architect took all of the conventions of a typical cathedral and modernized and inverted them.  Instead of the nave being rectangular with the altar at the end of a shorter side, the nave is midway through one of the longer sides.  Instead of having a vaulted ceiling that soars towards the heavens, the ceiling is almost a concave vault encroaching into the space.  While there are clerestory windows, they do not follow a specific form nor are they particularly visible but rather disappear into the crevices of the ceiling to only let in light in varying patterns.  The columns have no capitals and in fact, fork off in arbitrary places and into different planes.  Every moment of the building was a different experience with varying elevations, the transistions between them promoting movement throughout the building.  Sorry for all of the architecture dork mumbo jumbo, but I found it fascinating.  Anyways, everybody gabbed some cappuccinos and then we headed back to Santa Chiara to eat lunch and then work in studio.  We had somewhat of a miniature review, (again, I do still have to actually work while here) and then dinner.  As a special treat, Santa Chiara brought in a local accordianist for our entertainment for the night.  They also provided us with biscotti and Vin Santo, a dessert (which to me was reminiscent of mandel bread) and dessert wine typical of the Tuscany area.  Clearly, the people around me are not particularly experienced wine drinkers as they didn’t enjoy the wine but rather chose to kick it back like a shot.  Dessert wine is meant to be sipped slowly, rolled around the tongue, and savored but few people appreciated it in that way.  Oh well, their loss.  I enjoyed it immensely, especially as I got to listen to fantastic and moving accordian music, of all things.  I especially enjoyed watching my professor, Paolo, who clearly enjoyed the music almost to an out-of body-experience level.  Just sitting there while the music and wine washed over us, imagining the way the music of the accordian would sound in a music hall or cathedral, I was reminded that I am in Italy and that this kind of experience is really what living in a foreign country is about.

Saturday morning, we woke up really early to go to Cortona on the 9:40 train.  I had a miserable time on the bus because it was super jolty and there were a ton of switchbacks so I was getting really carsick.  The bus finally dropped us off at the Piazza Garibaldi which overlooked the valley under Cortona.  It was just awesome to look out across a huge expanse with mountains rising up on all sides yet we weren’t even at the top of the city, more like half way up.  Cortona was much the same as Castiglion Fiorentino but probably double in size.  On either side of the cobbled streets rise four-storied buildings, each showcasing food, clothing, wine, or other products on their lowermost levels.  While we were so tempted to stop to window shop after every ten feet, we had never been to this town, and, like all other medieval cities, this one is oriented with roads in a circle around the mountain with vertical streets bisecting them.  Unless you know the town, you will get lost, so, our first stop was the tourist information building to get maps.  Despite that, we did of course still get lost but more on that later.  Our second stop was to take a look around the market going on that day.  Much like the Friday morning C.F. market, this one had cheeses and meats, fruits and vegetables, and of course, clothing.  I’ve managed to convince myself that I can do without cute Italian clothes, but I have been in desperate need of scarves.  When Megan and I saw scarves (and cute ones at that) for three Euro, we jumped at the chance to indulge a bit.  We both wound up with three which I am super excited about and you’ll most likely see throughout my upcoming facebook photos or when I get back to the states.  The next couple of hours were spent exploring the city… well, more like getting lost in the city.  Our goal was to get to the big pilgramage cathedral at the top of the hill but we of course passed another church that we had to stop in and see.  In this country, you can't walk 50 yards (or 45.72 meters depending on which country you're in) without coming across a church.  This one was nothing particularly special so we didn’t dawdle too long.  It was only when we went outside and looked at our map that we realized we probably should have taken a longer break because the road that we needed to follow was straight uphill.  This isn’t like College Station where the biggest hill is probably coming out of the tunnel at Kyle Field.  These roads are sometimes so close to vertical that you actually feel the need to climb on all-fours.  This road was no different.  You might think we’re used to this by now but Cortona is about twice as big as C.F. so while we can, on occasion, just sprint up the hills here to get it over with, this street was probably three or four times as long as any road in Castig.  Let’s just say it took us a while and there was no need to do P90X when we got home.  Unfortunatley, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, one of my friends who has little to no sense of direction was in charge of the map.  When we got to a fork in the road and she got too discombobulated, I sort of took charge and just started leading everybody in the direction of the church.  We could clearly see it at the top of the hill so I figured walking towards it would be the best solution.  The road that we took soon became gravel which then turned into a single-file walking path.  This did not dishearten us in the least bit because down to our right, beyond a grove of olive trees, we could see the entire valley, completely undisrupted by trees, the sounds of cars, or any sign of other people.  Even on a cloudy, foggy day, the view was absolutely glorious.  We marveled for a moment but then continued on, our path finally intersecting one of the roads boardering the cathedral.  I know, I’m kind of weird, but this road was just about as gorgeous to me as the view of the valley.  Massive trees were on the left, spanning above the road to create a canopy while a 12 foot high wall was on the right and the ground was covered in moss-laden cobblestones, essentially encasing us in a tunnel of deep green.  It was fantastic except for the fact that it was yet another hill to climb.  We finally made it all the way up the hill and, slightly out of breath, turned towards the front of the church.  The outside was nothing special but the interior was gorgeously painted, predominantly this deep blue.  Unfortunatley, we couldn’t take photos inside, but it was fantastic with four huge domes that were rather celestial in nature.  As we approached the altar, it became clear why this was the Chiesa della Santa Margarita.  There she was.  Emaciated flesh and bone inside of a glass case.  Sorry to anybody out there who practices Catholicism, but I just don’t get it, I don’t really like to look at skeletons as I pray, just a matter of preference, I’m sure.  Unfortunately it was almost siesta time and so the nuns who take care of the building were starting to shut it down for the afternoon so we had to content ourselves with a few photgraphic memories and about a 5 minute sketch of the floorplan.  Hungry and cold, we practically flew down the mountain to make it to what is purported to be the absolute best pizzeria in Tuscany.  I’m not sure if I 100% agree, but I definitely ate the entire thing by myself.  Everything was closed after we left the pizzeria so we headed back to Piazza Garibaldi to take a bus to Castiglion Fiorentino.  

Enough for now, so until next time,

Ciao e a dopo

Becca

Florence Take Two

Wednesday, I woke up to catch the 7:09 train which actually most people on the program took, surprisingly since we didn't have to be there until 10:00.  When we got to Florence, we immediately went to the Louis Vuitton store so that Julie could first know where it was and second be able to walk around and decide on a purse which she is buying for herself as a birthday present.  Unfortunatley, they were closed and we didn’t have enough time to get to the Kosher market because we didn’t know where it was but we asked at the tourist information station.  We had to meet in front of the duomo at 10:00 to go inside on a tour with Paolo.  That was more like an hour long discussion about architecture, analyzing the gothic structure versus what you would see in northern Europe and France.  The dome itself is just fantastic.  Phillipo Bruneleschi, partially out of spite, left Florence to study the Pantheon and come back to build the structure about ten years later.  Until then, the cathedral had essentially been finished except for the open drum that covered the intersection of the nave and transept because nobody could quite figure out how to build the intended design.  Though there are a couple of large (and might I say, rather anxiety-causing) cracks, they have been there just about since the time the dome was built so there apparently does not seem to be much worry of the building collapsing.  Because the dome is actually a double shell, there are stairs in between the two layers so maybe one day, I’ll get to go to the top.  After that tour and then another tour through the Museo Opera, it was lunch time.  Megan, Kate, and I had bought food a couple of days before so that we would not have to pay for over-priced tourist food. 

my bread and cheese lunch

I felt so accomplished sitting there in the shade of the duomo, eathing my saltless bread (all bread here is cooked without salt so it’s actually not very good but you just cover it with spices, balsamic vineagar, and oil) and my Pecorino cheese which is local to Tuscany.  We were supposed to meet at the front of the Duomo at 1:00 to do a sketching exercise with Mark, our professor, but after fifteen minutes of him not showing up, we just started sketching on our own.  We joked that we were such good students for not following standard A&M 15 minute protocol, but we were actually slightly paranoid that maybe Mark was lurking in the shadows somewhere to see what we would do without his instruction.  He finally walked up about 1:30 and told us that we had passed; he was kidding of course, their lunch had just run over because it was particularly Italian and therefore long but he was rather impressed at how many people had, of our own accord, pulled out our sketchbooks.  He took us back to the piazza in front of Santa Croce so we could 1) sketch the area and the façade of the cathedral, and 2) to experience the chocolate festival.  Oh. My. God.  Chocolate everywhere.  Like Godiva on steroids.  There were typical looking truffels, chocolate barks, fondue stations, and chocolate-covered fruits; but then there were chocolate salamis with boscotti pieces, chocolate pizzas with anything ranging from candied cherries to pistachios to even chili peppers, every kind of flavored liqueurs, gears, bolts, and masonry equipement made from chocolate.  There was just too much to take in, too much to see.  Of course, I wanted some, well, all of it actually, but I was so overwhelmed that it took me probably half an hour to come to a decision.  I then ate my chocolate while walking around the piazza sketching so all in all, it was a fantastic day.  Oh, and I found the great synagogue of Florence and the Kosher market so I bought some turkey salami.  I also went to the art store and bought a couple of paintbrushes.  This place was no Hobby Lobby.  They had artist’s palattes that were probably almost as big as me as well as paintbrushes as long as my legs.  Any color in any type of paint, maker, pastel, or pencil could be found.  Basically an artist’s paradise.  

my attempted axonometric watercolor sketches, analyzing the differences between the duomo and Santa Croce piazzas

Thursday, we had to be up at around 7:00 this morning to make it to Piazza Garibaldi by 8:00 because we were going to the Chiesa dell'autostrada del Sole San Giovanni Battista.  This church was deisgned by Giovanni Michelucci to memorialize all of the workers who died while building the Autostrada (the highway).  It’s this awesome, modern looking building slightly in the middle of nowhere, directly in between Rome and Milan.  Similar to Le Corbusier’s Notre Dame du Haut, this building is made all of architectural concrete and stone from all over Italy.  It is sort of like the architect took all of the conventions of a typical cathedral and then modernized and inverted them.  Instead of the nave being rectangular with the altar at the end of a shorter side, the altar is midway through one of the longer sides.  Instead of having a vaulted ceiling that soars towards the heavens, the ceiling is almost a concave vault encroaching into the space.  While there are clerestory windows, they do not follow a specific form nor are they particularly visible but rather disappear into the crevices of the ceiling to only let in light in varying patterns.  The columns have no capitals and in fact, fork off in arbitrary places and into different planes.  Every moment of the building was a different experience with varying elevations, the transistions between them promoting movement throughout the building.  Anyways, everybody gabbed some cappuccinos and then we headed back to Santa Chiara to eat lunch and then work in studio.  We had somewhat of a miniature review, (yes, I do still have to actually work while here) and then dinner.  As a special treat, Santa Chiara brought in a local accordianist for our entertainment that night.  They also provided us with biscotti, a dessert cookie, and Vin Santo, dessert wine typical of the Tuscany area.  Clearly, the people around me are not particularly experienced wine drinkers as they didn’t enjoy the wine but rather chose to kick it back like a shot.  Dessert wine is meant to be sipped slowly, rolled around the tongue, and savored but few people appreciated it in that way.  Oh well, their loss.  I enjoyed it immensely, especially as I got to listen to fantastic and moving accordian music.  I especially enjoyed watching my professor, Paolo, who clearly enjoyed the music almost to an out-of body-experience level.  Just sitting there while the music and wine washed over us, imagining the what the sounds of the accordian would be like in a music hall or cathedral, I was reminded that I am in Italy and that this kind of experience is really what living in a foreign country is about.  

Going to Cortona tomorrow and maybe Torontolla on Sunday so until next time,

Ciao e a dopo,

Becca

Oh, That Guy Gets Horns!!

This past Saturday, Megan, Kate, and I, despite our lack of sleep, decided to wake up early to go to the Arezzo antique fair.  It happens on the first weekend of every month and, since we are not too familiar with traveling around Italy yet, we decided this would be a great first opportunity to go somewhere on our own since it’s fairly close.  That being said, we had planned on leaving Santa Chiara at 7:45 to be early to the train station so we could catch the 8:27 train to be early to the antique fair.  Of course we left ten minutes late and were rushing to buy our train tickets without being able to understand the language.  Can you say “stressful”?  It certainly was an experience buying round trip tickets, but thankfully there was a girl there who spoke English who helped us out.  It was now 8:26 and the next train wouldn’t come for an hour so when we saw a train approaching what we hoped was the correct track, we ran for it.  I suppose it could have been an adventure to get on the wrong train, but we somehow managed to just make it onto the correct one and were soon on our way to Arezzo.  Personally, I’m glad we got there so early.  When we arrived, we saw a few vendors setting up their wares on the main street so we thought maybe the fair just went up the main street to the Piazza.  How wrong we were.  Every junction we came to just opened up more directions for us to go, each with rows upon rows of tables.  There were fur stoles, jewelry of all shapes, sizes, and age, chinawear, typewriters, telephones dating back to the turn of the century, fantastic furniture, anything you wanted, all you had to do was take the time to search and it was there.  Some of the pieces were obviously junk but then others were precious metals or stones, amulets, broaches, name brand clothing.  Down one of the less crowded alleyways, I spotted something that looked familiar - a yad.  

There were actually two silver pointers, one with a large star on it.  Throughout the day, I also found a silver and jade-encrusted grager as well as another yad and a besamim shaker for havdalah.  Asside from that, I found a bunch of lighters (several marked Ronson though I think only one was actually legitimate) which would have probably been scoffed at by my father, masks  and mechanical banks that resemble some of my mothers’, porcelean dolls that probably would have appealed to my sister, as well as crystal and glass chandelier pieces.  If you have ever been to my house, you know that it is filled with each of our various collections as well as a lot of crystal, so, pretty much, this antique fair was just a super-extension of my home.  One of my favorite things was the writing desks with their leather  surfaces, inlay designs, and clandestinely concealed triggers which would open unseen drawers.  As we were ogling a table full of telephones, a drumming suddenly filled the air, soon joined by trumpeting.  We didn’t think much of it until we realized that people were clearing the road for a sort of procession in which there were drummers, trumpeters, soldiers, what I can only assume to be council men, flag-bearers, and five women, all clad in medieval garb.  They passed by us in what we thought was just a parade until they walked into the courtyard of the city’s government building.  Noticing that all of the Italians were following them inside, we decided to join in and while we didn’t understand what this ceremony was in the least bit, I am so glad we went.  People were clearly being honored, though for what, I am unsure.  

medieval ceremony in the town square

The drums would announce the honorees, each of which wore a bandana with a certain design, matched by one of the five flags, while other members wearing that bandana would cheer.  We were clearly the only Americans there but it seemed to be some sort of special experience for the Italians as well.  The ceremony ended which meant lunch time before nap time.  

Kate, Me, and Megan with our pizza

I got margarita pizza (what we typically call “cheese pizza” in the states but so so so much better) and then I tried potato which was also pretty good.  The guy behind the counter seemed to really like us because we kept asking him how to say things in Italian and then he gave us free cookies when we left.  Hands-down, favorite pizza place in Arezzo.  Though we certainly did not see all of the antique fair, we definitely got to see most of it, and certainly more than most people who took some of the later trains.  

Sunday was also a ton of fun.  Not wanting to just sit in Santa Chiara like most people, Megan, Katie, Kelsey, and I decided we wanted to walk across the valley and up our neighboring mountain to take a look at its adorning castle.  Might I just reiterate that every day, I see a castle out of my bedroom window?!?  It only took us an hour or so and it was not really that fantastic because apparently some old crazy lady lives in the castle and doesn’t like visitors so you can’t really see or get inside at all but it was still a ton of fun to walk there.  Plus, every other step we took just brought us higher and showed us a more impressive view of the valley and a look back at our own little town.  If I had had my rock climbing shoes with me, I might have seriously contemplated scaling the wall but, probably for the best, I restrained myself to just trying to look through cracks in the door. 

Kelsey, Megan, and Catie on our way up the hill with our valley behind them

Most of the walk back was spent taking photos and attempting to make olive branch crowns because, of course, we were walking past olive groves the whole time.  I wound up wearing an olive branch tucked into my hair the rest of the night.  Though dinnertime was fast approaching, I had yet to buy a Gelato, or even taste one no less so when we passed a Gelateria, we decided it was about time.  Honestly, I prefer spoons.  Don't get me wrong, it was good, but I think I'll just stick to probiotic yogurts.  Sunday night (well, actually Monday morning), of course was the superbowl.  Had it not been 12:30 in the morning and had I not been in a bar with a bunch of people smoking, and had there been the proper commercials, I probably would have enjoyed it a bit more.  As is, I stayed until the pick at the beginning of the fourth quarter and called it a night, it being 3:30 already.

Monday was the day that I started my stone carving class.  It's going to be awesome. My professor, Alberto Burri, is 81, can’t speak a word of English, and is probably the most gifted stone carver yet primitive painter I have ever seen.  His carvings are absolutely incredible, the most impressive of which is his world record setting stone chain.  It isn’t just like metal where the links are bent to connect inside each other.  This all comes from one single block of stone, around 12 feet tall and probably 3 feet in diameter, just to make a chain with 5 in long links.  It’s just unbelieveable.  Besides that, he has also done stuff like make a working tricycle, a guillotine, functioning grain machines, coats of arms, fireplaces; pretty much anything you can imagine and then some.  I’m really excited.  He has chisels and hammers made specifically just for us so we can take those, plus of course whatever we make, home with us.  I think that is going to be so much fun plus there’s a good group of people doing it so we’ll get along well and have fun.  

Other than that, I've been playing some ping pong and poker, most notably last night when my opponent went all in, I called (because I was just ready to go to sleep), but then completed a straight on the river to win the pot (20 Euro).  The guys were not too happy with that but I had a ton of fun which is really what matters, right??

I went to Florence again today, I'll post some sketches and write about that experience later but now it is time for sleep so until next time,

Ciao e a dopo,

Becca

I'm Just Going To Lay Here a Bit

Most of my time has been spent in class since I last posted (so that, and the fact that I haven't had internet are the reasons why it's taken me so long to post).  Though we knew the city adheres to siesta time, around 1:00 last Sunday, me and a bunch of friends decided we were hungry so we wandered the city to find something to eat.  Epic fail.  Everything closes in this city between 1:00 and 4:00.  There were maybe three places open total but they didn't really have much in the way of food.  I did manage to order a sandwich in my god-awful Italian.  Sono vegetariano.  We started classes Monday morning.  My studio professor had us go outside and sketch which was just terrible for three reasons; 1) it was super windy and cold so all of us froze our fingers off, 2) I'm bad at sketching so I get easily frustrated, and 3) you have to climb up massive hills to get anywhere in the city so we all got a big workout wandering around.  After lunch on Mondays, we are supposed to have an arts class but that doesn't start until this week.  I'll be taking stone carving so I'll have to let y'all know how that goes, I'm really excited for it.  Tuesday was actually pretty cool even though we were just in Castiglion Fiorentino.  This old Italian man named Paolo is my professor for my history class which on Tuesday consisted of basically just touring around the city of Castiglion Fiorentino, talking about the church, the city, the architecture in general.  The neatest part of his tour was when we went into the city's archives where we were surrounded by books ranging from the 13^th to the 18^th centuries.  Being surrounded by all of these ancient texts made me think of my dad and how much he would enjoy this, and how you can't just walk in and take photos at the A&M archives.

I found a portfolio full of watercolors (in which I have started dabbling) of the town from the 1800s and then I also found an old testament.  That was pretty cool because I saw the first few pages and thought, “this looks a lot like Talmud (but of course in Italian)” and then I looked up and realized that it said Deuteronomy in Italian at the top.  It was just like the Talmud with the text in the middle and surrounded by commentary. 

During dinner, some of my friends suggested playing soccer that night.  While I was not ecstatic to play  because I was sore (I've done P90X every morning), tired, and it was cold, I couldn’t find a particularly valid reason to not play so I finally convinced myself it would be worth it.  And, of course, it was.  Though I have some pretty massive/ugly bruises, it was a ton of fun and now there's this crew of about seven or eight guys and I who play every night or so.  Clearly, I don’t know anything about soccer, never having played it in my life, all I can do is run around in circles and annoy people.  We play in a court that is bounded on two sides by a fence and on two sides by a medieval wall.  It's kind of surreal to be playing soccer against a thousand year old wall while a two thousand year old Etruscan tower rises in the background.  No big deal.

Our weekly field trip on Wednesday was to Florence.  Our bus dropped us off first at an overlook of the whole city from which we could see Florence Cathedral, the river Arno, and just a huge expanse of loggia-faced buildings.  Up the hill from the look out was San Miniato de Mont.  I have always loved this church with its marble façade inlaid with travertine but of course, it is so much more impressive up close and in person where you can see all of the intricate mosaic work.

Facade of San Miniato

The inside was just as if not more gorgeous.  In the apse is a golden mosaic of Jesus, there are multiple altars carved out of stone, and the floor is covered in tombs, everything you can expect from a middle ages church.  We got back on the buses and then they dropped us off along the Arno River.  Our first stop was Santa Croce.  This church had a similar façade to that of San Miniato though a lapis lazulai star of david was given a place of prominence at the top of the church.  Inside, we were introduced to the conglomeration of architectural periods; medieval, middle ages, Rennaisance, and so forth.  A narrow walkway and stairs lined the building right below the clerestory.  Interestingly, I was informed that this is where the women stood during services and that they, like in Judaism with its mechitzah, were expected to separate from the men.  Besides being pretty cool architecturally, this church also had the tombs of Dante, Galileo, and, most importantly, Michelangelo. 

tomb of Michelangelo

We left that church and walked into the Piazza Signoria which is where the original David statue once stood.  The main building of the piazza is the central governmental building, crowned with the fluer representing the city of Florence.  Paolo lead us down a street which he referred to as a “Broadway” though it was at most probably five meters wide.  There were lots of shops carrying items ranging from leather gloves to wine to Gelato.  Paolo kept saying there would be a surprise around a corner but it truly was a shock when we came to a corner and all of a sudden, there to our right, were the façade and tower of the duomo.  It’s enormous, specifically, the third largest structure in Europe behind St. Paul’s Cathedral in London and St. Peter’s basilica in Rome.  The Notre Dame in Paris would fit inside.  There was not enough time to go inside so we made our way to the restaurant, the oldest in Italy, the place where Michelangelo used to frequent, and most importantly, where we would be eating lunch. 

part of the A&M crew at lunch, with our Chianti of course!

Joe and the dome

It’s so culturally different to me to walk into a restaurant where there is both water and wine on the table, neither of which you have to pay for, and that we are automatically served bread and a three course meal wherever we eat.  In Italian importance, food comes first, wine comes second, and paying for it all comes last.  Our official tour was over after lunch so we were free to walk around Florence on our own for a few hours.  A group of probably twenty of us went back to the duomo to go inside.  No big deal; this is just the church that we’ve learned about for the past four years, designed by Michelangelo and built by Bruneleschi, hundreds of years of history.  My friend Joe went so far as to just lay down in the middle of the road in order to gaze up at the massive dome.  After ogling at the cathedral for about a half hour, the group split up, so that some people could go shopping, some to sketch, and my group just wanted to walk around.  We passed a leather market, street performers and artists, piazzas and probably thirty gelato places.  After going under a huge archway, we found ourselves in what is most likely the more prominent area of Florence.

Inside Flrorence Cathedral

To our right was a Ferrari apparel store, to our left, a yachting apparel store.  As we traveled further down the street, we started passing Louis Vuitton, Armani, and Cartier stores.  It wasn’t long before we just turned around; all we wanted was a coffee and a place to sit in order to sketch, and this area, with it’s expensive high fashion did not look promising.  We made our way towards the pont de Vecchio, a bridge that once upon a time housed all of the meat vendors of the city until the Medici family (which practically ruled over Italy for hundreds of years) decided that they got disgusted every time they had to cross the bridge from their palace and made it a jewelry vending area, and it still is to this day.  Soon it was time to leave so we made our way back to the buses, went back to Castiglion Fiorentino, and ate dinner.  I played a game of ping pong (which I lost royalty to Troy) and then went to play soccer again.  Within about two minutes, Joe had kicked the ball so that it, in freak accident style, popped on part of the metal fence that stuck out.  We managed to play with a flat ball the rest of the night, but people were falling all over the place, tripping on the ball which didn’t roll particularly well.

That's about it for now, long week with another, more in depth trip to Florence coming up!!
Ciao until next time,
Becca