Italy, with thy fatal gift of beauty...
May. 17th, 2003 09:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
selenakOkay, that was my show-off Byron quote of the day. Among the many virtues of the Casa Marignolle, where I'm staying, is the fact it permits me to get online, albeit not too long (I have to plug in my laptop in the phone connection). So I'll be able to catch up with my mail and report a bit. Downloading, though, is out. And I'll probably be able to restrain myself from reading everyone else's Buffy finale commentary this Tuesday, until I get home. (I hope.)
I've been in Florence before, three times, but the last time was a decade ago, and its charms don't wither. The Marignolle is one of those lovely Italian country houses on a hill, all pale yellow and red bricks and wineyards and olive trees, not directly in Florence but about 40 minutes on foot away. Which I happen to know since we walked there and back. It's a small road over the hills till you descend to arrive at the Porta Antiqua. Villas with large, neglected gardens and crumbling central buildings left and right en route. Why is it that decay in the north looks appalling and romantic in the south?
Walking through Florence again, after all those years: The most striking difference are the peace flaggs everywhere. Rainbow-coloured flaggs with PACE written in white on them. Interesting to find the Italians still so vocal in their protest, but then they, like the Spaniards, were in a situation where the majority of the people disagreed with their government's position on the Iraq war. (Whereas at home the majority and the government took the same position (though that didn't make most people more happy with Mr. Schröder, not with the economy the way it is.) Plus with Berlusconi well on his way to become the next Mussolini the need to protest never dies.
Otherwise, the city remains itself. The physical reality of the Palazzo Pitti and the Palazzo Strozzi reminded me again of what photos and films can never quite adequatly convey; that those weren't as much town palaces as fortresses; consisting of thick, gigantic stones and utterly closed off to the outside. Not surprisingly considering the times in which they were build.
The Duomo, with its exquisite facade of green, white and red marble, is quite simply one of the most beautiful churches ever. This time I did something I hadn't done on earlier visits; climb all the way up to the Cupola. The view is breathtaking, of course, but the stairs are about as claustrophobia-inducing and full used air as you can imagine. Seeing signs the masons must have engraved into some stones of the dome reminded me of my art teacher talking to us about the medieval mindframe, and how the loving details of spires which could never be appreciated by the people down below (or so they thought) were meant for God alone. Another thing struck me, this time from inside the dome: those frescos, seen close up where you could touch them were they not protected by glass, look remarkably like drawings of comic books. Strong lines outlining the figures, and bold strokes filling in the colours. (Of course, the fact that the theme was hell with various devils and demons battling it out helped with the association.
I've been in Florence before, three times, but the last time was a decade ago, and its charms don't wither. The Marignolle is one of those lovely Italian country houses on a hill, all pale yellow and red bricks and wineyards and olive trees, not directly in Florence but about 40 minutes on foot away. Which I happen to know since we walked there and back. It's a small road over the hills till you descend to arrive at the Porta Antiqua. Villas with large, neglected gardens and crumbling central buildings left and right en route. Why is it that decay in the north looks appalling and romantic in the south?
Walking through Florence again, after all those years: The most striking difference are the peace flaggs everywhere. Rainbow-coloured flaggs with PACE written in white on them. Interesting to find the Italians still so vocal in their protest, but then they, like the Spaniards, were in a situation where the majority of the people disagreed with their government's position on the Iraq war. (Whereas at home the majority and the government took the same position (though that didn't make most people more happy with Mr. Schröder, not with the economy the way it is.) Plus with Berlusconi well on his way to become the next Mussolini the need to protest never dies.
Otherwise, the city remains itself. The physical reality of the Palazzo Pitti and the Palazzo Strozzi reminded me again of what photos and films can never quite adequatly convey; that those weren't as much town palaces as fortresses; consisting of thick, gigantic stones and utterly closed off to the outside. Not surprisingly considering the times in which they were build.
The Duomo, with its exquisite facade of green, white and red marble, is quite simply one of the most beautiful churches ever. This time I did something I hadn't done on earlier visits; climb all the way up to the Cupola. The view is breathtaking, of course, but the stairs are about as claustrophobia-inducing and full used air as you can imagine. Seeing signs the masons must have engraved into some stones of the dome reminded me of my art teacher talking to us about the medieval mindframe, and how the loving details of spires which could never be appreciated by the people down below (or so they thought) were meant for God alone. Another thing struck me, this time from inside the dome: those frescos, seen close up where you could touch them were they not protected by glass, look remarkably like drawings of comic books. Strong lines outlining the figures, and bold strokes filling in the colours. (Of course, the fact that the theme was hell with various devils and demons battling it out helped with the association.
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no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 01:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 02:33 pm (UTC)I love visiting Florence, but could never live there, even though it's less than an hour from here. It's a different world.
The Duomo has always seemed, to me, to exemplify the difference: impossibly beautiful on the outside, disappointingly dark and mundane on the inside. Bologna, by contrast, is much richer with hidden layers compared to what appears on the surface.
(God, I think this means I really have been assimilated, after all these years!)
Final note: there are a lot fewer of those PACE flags now than there were a couple of months ago: the rainbows were a pervasive motif that brightened the city. Now, most of them have been taken down, perhaps in resignation.
As far as the inside of cathedrals is concerned...
Date: 2003-05-17 10:11 pm (UTC)But if I had to pick one Italian city I love best, it would be Rome and surrounding area, and Rome of course is far less coherent in itself than any of the above but is many cities at once. I once spent three months in Olevano Romano, which is about an hour away from Rome, and fell hopelessly in love.
Florence is gorgeous to visit, though...