Of Art and Florence

It is official, I have become one of those people who you stare at when you go to museums. You know those types: the art students, or wannabe artists, who stand in front of the statues in the Greco-Roman galleries, pensively studying the works of art, lost in their own little world. You walk past them and try to sneak a glance into their sketchbook. Sometimes you admire what they are doing and wish you had that kind of skill…and other times you just shake your head and walk away. I hope I was the former, though from what I heard of the people around me while in Florence, the reception was not that bad, even quite positive in some cases (including the lady who gave me a thumbs up when she saw my sketch of "Perseus").

Which leads me to Part II of my Grande Tour, Florence, the city for the artist.

Florence, or Firenze

To my surprise, Florence ended up being the city where I felt the most connection to in Italy, mostly in terms of the art. After all, the city that gave birth to the Renaissance, to Michelangelo, Giotto, Raphael, Donatello, Leonardo Da Vinci is bound to be filled to the brim with art. And I was not disappointed. I had not thought that I would love it as much as I did, maybe because I had always been partial to Venice when studying art history (it's the gondolas). Yet, Florence exceeded my expectations and I attribute it mostly to the art, so excuse me while I gush about it.

The Piazza della Signatora - "On a central square, in a city made of statues and stories..."

My favorite place in the city ended up being the Loggia dei Lanzi, with its multitudes of original Baroque sculptures, all looking out at the Piazza della Signatora, the Palazzo Vechio (city hall and the original site of Michelangelo's "David"), and the Uffizi Gallery (the mecca of Italian Renaissance art and the site of Botticelli's "Birth of Venus"), I found myself screaming in excitement at seeing the Loggia for the first time. There was so much beauty and art to entertain in such a small area, it was almost overwhelming. There was nothing I wanted to do more than to take out my sketchbook, to pretend that I was an art student of the 19th century, going to Italy to learn about art, to live in it and breathe it.

My rendition of Michelangelo's "David," located in the Academia, and standing at 16 ft tall (in actuality, for the most perfect human being, his head and hands are too big for his body and his arms too long).

Being able to draw in the Loggia, standing in the Florentine sunlight, feeling the wind rustle against my skin and the sounds of the Piazza, there was nowhere else I wanted to be at that moment. As I was standing there, drawing my version of the "David," (ironically located at the Academia, in an obscure sidestreet) not caring about the people walking past me and what they thought, I realized that I had never felt at one with myself and centered in my element. It was a peaceful feeling, almost as if nothing existed except me and the paper. You know you’re an artist when you are looking at a person and instead of seeing them as they appear to be (or even hearing them), you see the shadows on their face and the color gradations in their skin. I think I may finally be getting to that point…and I like it.

Not to mention that as I was drawing in the Loggia ("Perseus"), the woman next to me looked at the statue, my sketch, and gave me a curt nod. How is that for validation?

The view of the Uffizi Gallery from across the river

The artistic mood was also helped since the days in Florence were the most beautiful in terms of the time spent in Italy. The sun shone clear and warm, amidst a light breeze, and for one brief moment, I felt as if I was back home in California, basking in the winter light. The first day we climbed to the Piazza Michelangelo (which functions as a car park on the way out of Florence, with a copy of David in the middle) and treated with a breathtaking view of the sunset over the city, along with a panoramic sight of Tuscany's rolling hills.

The view from the Palazzo Michelangelo..."Like a beacon coming out of the dark"

If you want to save money at the Duomo (aka, the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, which also offers a wonderful view of the city) but still want a delightful view of Florence, the Piazza Michelangelo is the place to go (though the Duomo is still a beautiful cathedral to visit). It is no wonder that so much inspiration for art, culture, and philosophy came from such a city. Looking at Firenze at dusk, bathed in golden light underneath an overhang of lavender and orange clouds, the air was full of poetry and possibilities.

The ceiling of the Santa Maria del Fiore, which is commonly known as the Duomo

The time spent in Florence seemed to be filled to the brim with looking at art, admiring art, or walking along to find more art to admire. For the art historian in me, Florence equaled Paris in its artistic splendor with the main difference being the lack of large car-filled boulevards and crepes. No matter, I had gelato and the Masters to keep me company. Not to mention that I also had sticker shock since Florence seemed inexpensive in comparison to non-budget friendly Venice. I now have another favorite city in the world, one where I cannot wait to someday return and fully study and fully render on paper.

"Now I see it...the light in the piazza"

Tips:

• Florence is the place for cheap souvenirs, especially leather goods, silk and cashmere scarves, and ties (all for under 20 euros, you can easily find silk scarves here for 5 euros). Look for the open stands near the Medici chapel.
  
• A number of museums and churches, such as the Uffizi Gallery, Academia, and the Medici tombs, do not let you take photographs. The solution, just enjoy what you are looking at and make a note to look it up on Wiki later.
• To save money on lunches, go to a snack bar (they have them all around Italy though Florence tended to be the cheapest in my opinion) and get a slice of pizza to go. For 5 euros at the most, you get a gargantuan, wonderfully oily piece of pizza that you can carry with you as you stoll along the piazza.
• Unless you want to wait an hour or two for the Uffizi Gallery (which houses the most impressive collection of Italian Renaissance art in Europe), reserve a ticket in advance. It's only 4 euros more and you save a large amount of time, which can later be spent exploring the city.
• "prego" is a multipurpose word, used for "you welcome," "please," "thanks" and many other fun options. When in doubt as to how to respond to an Italian statement, just say "Prego!"
  

Florence: the photo album

Of Paris, the art!

Growing up Vietnamese, I have always been somewhat surrounded by a very French-influenced culture due to the fact that France occupied Vietnam for more than 60 years. A good amount of Vietnamese cuisine stems from France (such as bành xèo, a Vietnamese version of a French crepe) and after the Vietnam War, France was one of the most common countries of refuge for Vietnamese.

As a result, I have grown up with an appreciation for French culture, music, and art (made all the more potent by my father, who can speak a bit of French, and "Paris by Night," a Vietnamese variety show that was a family tradition). I grew up associating France, particularly Paris, with guitars, sunshine, the "Mona Lisa," and the Tour Eiffel. Entering college, that appreciation for the city became more fervent as I learned more about French history and art via my modern art classes. I do not consider myself a French aficionado by any means, but Paris has always been that hazy dream that was always waiting to come true.

Which is no great surprise that upon entering the city of lights, this song by a Vietnamese composer, Ngô Thụy Miên, entered my head.

"Paris có gì lạ không em?
Mai anh về giữa bến sông Seine
Anh về giữa một giòng sông trắng
Là áo sương mù hay áo em?"

Translation:
Is there anything strange about Paris, my dear?
Tomorrow I will come home through the Seine
I will come home on a white river
Will I see the white fog or your white dress?

For me, Paris is music, made all the more prominent by the amount of art and culture within the city. That is why I want to dedicate a separate post to all that makes Paris wonderful in my eyes, which is predominantly its art and, in the next post, its cuisine.

Monday, after spending a night with the Eiffel Tower, we went to the Louvre (also known as the home of infamous "Mona Lisa").

What I did not know about the Louvre was that, beside its gargantuan size which is never fully seen in movies or photographs, it used to be a palace. It was the home of the French monarchy up to Louis XIV, who decided to move to the more ornate Versailles Palace and left his collection of artwork at the Louvre. To my greatest surprise, there was indeed the foundations of the medieval Louvre Palace beneath the ground floor of the museum.

In my own incredulous words, "There's a castle in the basement?"

It would take years to really ponder every artifact within the Louvre, my travel mates and I did it in 4 hours. Yet, it was every art lover's dream with its long rows of images and artifacts. Each room is sumptuously decorated to fit the relics within it, the Grecian wing was decorate in the simple, Classical style while the more ornate French section was painted in grand, Rococo-esque (flowery and slightly over-the-top) fashion. It was almost as if the building itself was a work of art.

The French furniture room

It was also very easy to get lost in it, especially since stairways to the lobby were few and fair in between, causing you to walk down to the end of the long hallways if you wanted to exit (though I did wander into the Babylonian section of the museum by mistake, which ended up being a beautiful sight).

I spent about 3 of the 4 hours with some of the most famous artworks within human history, such as:

Jacques-Louis David's The Coronation of Napoleon

I'm the little magenta speck

The Venus di Milo


and, of course, Leonardo da Vinci's "Mona Lisa," which amazed me with its size. How can something so small be so influential? I will never know, considering that the barrier around it was so wide, I couldn't get a close glimpse.


Then, on Wednesday, while my travel mates wandered around in the Parisian Catacombs, I decided to take full advantage of the famous art collections of Paris and go to another museum, which was closer to my heart. It is the Musee de Orsay, the Orsay Museum, and it houses modern art, dating from the 1800's to the mid 1900's. Built in an old train station, it had the most extensive collection of Realist and Impressionist art I have ever seen, even surpassing MOMA in New York, which is no surprise since most 19th century art came from Paris.

There, I spent 3 hours soaking in as much Millet, Manet, Courbet, Monet, and Renoir as I could and wishing I brought my sketchbook. In real life, the colors are so much more vivid than they are when you view them online or in reproductions. The peaceful and tranquil scenes they painted, filled with color and life, just seemed to brighten up the room. The best way to view the Monet portion of the museum (which were scattered on the ground and first floor due to chronology) is to just sit before them and let the colors soak through you.

C'est magnifique! This is one of my favorite paintings in the museum.

Alas, all good things must come to an end and at the end of that day, I had to head back to England. Yet, I feel like I still haven't completely woken up from the dream of Paris, I still recall the rooms and the feeling of awe at finally seeing Manet's "Olympia" in the flesh (no pun intended). What I wouldn't give to go back and learn from the masters...

I can only hope that one day, I'll be able to go back with my sketchbook in tow and draw to my heart's content. Ah well, c'est la vie...

P.S. And since we are on the subject of artwork, I would just like to take a moment to plead with anyone who ever goes to museums to turn off your flash when you are taking the picture. I saw an endless number of people snapping pictures of the Mona Lisa and her companions using a flash, which angered me to no ends. Not only do you not get a good picture from it since it overly intensifies the color, you also ruin the paintings/sculptures. The heat in the flash breaks down the color pigmants and the material of the paintings. So unless you dont want the famous "Mona Lisa" or "Olympia" to be available to your great-grandchildren and their offsprings, turn off your flash. I am going to get off my soapbox now.