Put me in a library designed by Michelangelo (at first, later contributors included Vasari... who seemed to have a hand in so much), that houses 11,000 manuscripts, features a beautifully designed reading room where the monks sat and pondered all the great books of the time, and I am in heaven and rather overwhelmed (see above).
This is an hours-long adventure that starts in San Lorenzo. In the early 15th century, San Lorenzo was the parish church of the Medici family and it was originally an 11th century Romanesque structure. In 1419, Giovanni Medici offered to finance the expansion of the church and called upon Filippo Brunelleschi to mastermind the design using Renaissance perspective, both in terms of architecture and of humanistic ideals. The result is clean lines, though very Roman, still.
It is very vast and my photos do not give you that sense. One place that is particularly interesting is the chapel in which you can see a play of two very different sensibilities at work: Brunelleschi and Donatello. Records state that B was pretty upset by the 'artificial' and sentimental rondels that were designed and rendered by Donatello. But actually, that counterpoint is what makes this little chapel interesting:
So, Saint Laurence. Who was he? He was a 3rd century martyr who was killed for his Christian beliefs under the rule of Roman emperor, Valerian. He was burned to death, on a grid iron. That is why he is the patron saint of chefs. Seriously. I'm not making this up. Here is a fresco inside the basilica:
From the basilica, you march into what was the monastery and the lovely interior courtyard:
Up to the second floor, up this staircase and into the library and reading room:
A very rational and organized plan where each reading area featured a bench, a large pitched desk top where the reader would put the manuscript, and an organized fashion for who reads what where. Each bench has an indicator: Latin poetry, Greek poetry, Astronomy, Latin history, etc.
I'm just like...: massive geek out!
Because then you go into an exhibit of some of the 11,000 world altering, fabulous and amazing works that just happen to be housed here:
Hey ho, it's only Saint Augustine's "The City of God"
And then this:
Oh... it's just Boethius "The Consolation of Philosophy"
Oh.... and then:
Gosh, Virgil's "Aeneid".....
MASSIVE GEEK OUT!!!!
It's all so fabulous. Then you head down into the crypt where there is another interesting museum filled with religious and sacramental art, fabulous reliquaries, all around gorgeousness:
I left very inspired and tired. That monk recipe for varicose veins is just not working. ARGH!!
I've seen many palaces in my day, but the one that stands out, the one that speaks to my inner letthemeatcake persona is the Palazzo Medici Riccardi. Built between 1444-1484, under the aesthetic direction of Michelozzo de Bartolomeo for Cosimo de Medici, the palace is a wonderful example of both classical Roman and Brunelleschi-inspired Renaissance design principles. The outside of the building has a distinctive tri-partite design that makes use of Roman arches, but also has a particularly Florentine style. Michelozzo also made use of the Roman inner courtyard, which allows for privacy, fresh air and security.
Take a look:
The palazzo design is also interesting for its use of a lovely, but rather modest exterior. During Cosimo's day there were sumptuary laws in place which affected how much wealth a family could display. So the order of the day was figure out ways to literally and figuratively hide your wealth. So, from the outside, this palace is a bit 'meh.' But once you walk in..... The Glory!
The family commissioned Benozzo Gozzoli to paint the inside of the family chapel. He recreated the travels of the Magi, on their way to the adoration. The brilliant/egotistic thing is that there is a secular and contemporary veil in that the Medici and their retinue are featured. Most notable is Lorenzo, the one wearing a luscious yellow brocade tunic and looking you right in the eye. The colors, the fabrics, the clothing, the jewels.... yes, life was good if you were in the right circle:
And I would, of course, insist on being in that circle. In fact, this afternoon I am reading Machiavelli's The Prince that I picked up in the bookstore and I am looking for some pointers and insight. Taking notes, darlings.
Here is my bedroom:
And this Fra Filippo Lippi Madonna just, you know, here.
And on this site in 1944.....
In this room, the liberation of Florence from the Fascists.... seriously fab.
These anti-fascists had style, baby! I'm with them.
Last weekend I finally made the climb up to San Miniato al Monte, a little Romanesque gem overlooking Florence.
From this point you have a scrumptious vista of Florence, looking so very elegant.
San Miniato is actually a basilica, originally run by Benedictines, then Cluniacs, and now the wonderfully named Olivetans, whom I have never heard of. But apparently they follow the Rule of St. Benedict and are quite handy in the kitchen, making herbal remedies and jams and jellies that they sell in the little shop next to the basilica. I find monk products irresistible and am the first to try whatever 'eye of newt' kind of tea or 'pickled bee antennae' ointment they've got on the shelf. Thinking that monks might know a thing or two about varicose veins, I bought a jar of their varicose vein treatment, which strangely enough is also good for coughs and epilepsy. I will see what it does and report back.
Originally an Armenian prince serving in the Roman army, St. Miniato converted to Christianity. This was sometime in the 3rd century AD and around Florence. When he was brought before Emperor Decius and told to renounce his faith.... well, you know the story:
Torture; check
Beating; check
Thrown to the wild beasts; check
Screaming, agony, horror; check
Beheaded; check
Picks up head and walks into Florence; check
You know, martyrs always seem to be picking up their decapitated heads and wandering around with them. Look at Saint Denis, for goodness sake. So Minato walks up the hill with his head and it's such a fabulous story that a shrine is built there, followed by a church and then the glorious Romanesque beauty we see today.
Inside is a marvel of stunning beauty. Old, fascinating, so my thing:
One of my favorite frescoes is this one of Mary Magdalene:
According to the legend, when Christ ascended into heaven, Mary Magdalene renounced her worldly goods and became an ascetic. Naked, she wandered into the desert to pray and suffer. It is believed that her hair grew to cover her nakedness. This is captured in many works of art. In fact, I just saw one at the Palazzo Pitti:
All around San Miniato are small cemetery spaces. Many notable families are buried up here, including the Zeffirelli's. Many of the tombstones have photos. It goes without saying that there are some sad stories up here:
A short walk down the hill brings you to the Piazza Michelangelo. A copy of the David, overlooks the city that so loved him as a symbol of Florentine pride and strength. Viva lo 'underdog'!!!
This afternoon I wandered back to Dante's neighborhood because the opportunity to see Orsanmichelle is fleeting. It's only open one or two days a week and it is truly splendid. Very different, with a definite Romanesque muscularity, a medieval vibe, and some Gothic frosting. It's history is super cool. In the 13th century, the square frame of the building marked a grain market. The market activity took place within the Roman arches and was open, like a loggia. Then there were two floors above. The top one was used for storage of grain, a much needed insurance to guard against bad times and starvation. It is on Via Calzaiuoli ("shoemakers"), marking the guild of the shoemakers. The church is off this via, and actually in the area of the city where woolworkers did their trade. The guild marker is still on a building:
Here is the front of Orsanmichelle. Toward the end of the 14th century, it was converted into a church that essentially represented and praised all of Florence's powerful guilds and crafts:
The frescoes inside are very old, and very wonderful. Every guild is represented by their guild marker and/or their patron saint. And the church has this marvelous gothic tabernacle and Bernardo Daddi's magnificent Madonna and Child. There is awful noise in the background because unfortunately, behind the tabernacle is where they sell tickets to other attractions in Florence. But anyway:Beautiful stained glass, fabulous frescoes in a groovy, naïve medieval style.
Here is Saint Mark, representing the Guild of the Linenworkers:
And here is St Stephen and the woolworkers guild:
Then you go across the street and into the building where the Italian Dante Society holds their secret meetings and seances....just kidding. You walk up 3 flights on stairs and cross over to the top floor of the church where there is a sculpture exhibit of saints that used to have their own alcoves in buildings of each guild.
It was so very fine to be walking up the stairs at the Dante headquarters, let me tell you:
After class, we headed into the winding, medieval streets of Santa Croce to find a tiny restaurant for il pranzo. It was, of course, molto buono. The restaurant gave us (gratis) this lovely array of antipasti: two kinds of bruschetti, pomodoro and liver pate, some marinated vegetables, eggplant, mushroom and peppers, and interesting spinach and cheese balls:
And then I had the pappardelle con ragu di cinghiale (wide pasta with wild boar sauce), one of my favorite things with a glass of Chianti Classico. The side plate is fried zucchini:
After lunch, I wandered over through Dante's neighborhood, just because. Santa Margherita is there, which is really the only 'authentic' thing, I think. There is the "house of Dante" but I am not really sure it is legit.
Today my mission was to go to the Salvatore Ferragamo museum. Born in 1898, to an enormous family with something like 14 children, dirt poor (of course) and struggling, he became fascinated with making shoes after he experimented and made a few pairs for his sisters. He was lucky enough to be sent to Naples to apprentice as a shoe maker. In 1915, he emigrated to the US, to Boston, where one of his brothers had a job in a shoe store making cowboy boots. They eventually moved to California and slowly, Salvatore established himself as a master designer and shoemaker. The catch was, that he insisted that his designs actually be comfortable, so he took an anatomy class at USC.
In 1927, he returned to Italy, to Florence, where he set up shop and began to provide shoes for the rich and famous. He's a shoe guy, and the museum is filled with them:
But the museum also focuses on an aspect of social history that is relevant to Ferragamo's time and contribution to fashion. The rooms discuss how after WWII, new worlds and possibilities opened up for women who wanted to work, to be professionals, and simply to appreciate fashion. There are sections devoted to the beginning of the whole ready-made industry:
And just the joy of fabulous clothes. There are 'palazzo pajamas':
And then there are other lovely things:
Leaving the exhibit takes you right into the showroom and shop. And let's just say, molto costoso.
After the dregs of COVID, storico calcio e tornato!!! The annual historic football(soccer) tournament is back, meaner and rougher than ever. On Friday and Saturday, the semi-finals were played involving the 2 main neighborhoods of Florence. My team, since I live in Santo Spirito, i bianchi (the whites) played i azzuri (the blues) of Santa Croce. Unfortunately, we lost. Porca Miseria!
The final game is on June 24th, the Feast of St. John the Baptist, the patron saint of Florence. It involves a parade of the players, a rag-tag bunch of tattooed, gnarly, hunky, angry bastards from hell, from the Piazza della Santa Maria Novella to the Piazza Santa Croce. I will be covering this event, darlings.
Historic soccer is an interesting mix of soccer, rugby and mixed martial arts. Sometimes these guys just start beating each other up and no one seems to even care where the ball is. There IS a ball, though, and the idea is to move it from one goal area to the other. The rules were first codified in 1580, by Giovanni de Bardi, a Florentine count. It was a game enjoyed by the aristocrats who apparently enjoyed watching a rag-tag bunch of tattooed, gnarly, hunky, angry bastards from hell beat each other up.
Franco Zeffirelli, as a director and producer, was responsible for some of the most memorable and glorious moments in cinematic history, at least according to me. One of his films, Brother Sun, Sister Moon, had a real impact on me when I was young. It was the first film that delivered such extraordinary moments of silence and beauty unlike I had ever experienced. And of course, his Romeo and Juliet and the casting of two relatively unknown teenagers, Olivia Hussey and Leonard Whiting, actually helped me understand the exquisite nuances of Shakespeare's use of the language. It was elevated and elevating... and I was totally onboard! My friends and I all wanted to look like Olivia Hussey.
Zeffirelli was born in the outskirts of Florence and the Florentines consider him one of their own. He was the product of an illicit and fabulous affair between a fashion designer and a dealer in textiles. Apparently, he is also remotely related to Leonardo da Vinci, as researchers have traced his roots back to one of Leonardo's siblings.
The exhibit is full of wonderful things: movie posters, sketches of costume design and the costumes themselves, photos, cases of awards, ephemera of all sorts, etc.
So great, so fab! And then there is a little cinema that showed sections of some of his famous films. You sit and watch the gloriousness:
And then, if you can handle it, you find yourself in the Maria Callas room of Magnificent Splendor:
.jpg)
