Art, Food, and Fashion

Piero della Francesca

Battista Sforza e Federico da Montefeltro, Uffizi Gallery, Florence

One of the artists our art history class has studied a great deal is, not surprisingly, Piero della Francesca, who was born here in Sansepolcro. So far we have been to the Museo Civico down the street to see his Resurrection of Christ, as well as Madonna della Misericordia. A week or two ago we took a class trip to Arezzo to see his multiple frescoes depicting the Legend of the True Cross, including The Annunciation, in the apse of the Basilica of San Francesco. We also were able to see what is probably his most famous work, his portraits of Battista Sforza and Federico da Montefeltro, in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. Then this past weekend, we went on a day trip to Urbino, where we visited the Ducal Palace of Federico da Montefeltro (the man in the portrait with the funny nose). Here we saw even more works by Piero, Madonna con Bambino and Flagellazione. It has been very intriguing, studying art in person as we are learning about it. Art history is combined into an intense half-semester class, and I will be very, very sad next week when it ends.

The Annunciation, Church of Saint Francis, Arezzo

Although it is nearly impossible to pick a favorite, I think I most enjoyed seeing The Legend of the True Cross frescoes in Arezzo. They are a series of frescoes in the front of the Church of Saint Francis which show a popular legend during the Renaissance. The basic story goes that, after Adam died, his son Seth took a seedling from the Tree of Good and Evil and planted it in his mouth. The tree that grew from it went through a long, complicated history of being cut down, used, and hidden until finally it was used to form the cross Jesus was crucified on. After Christ, the cross was lost, sought after, finally found, tested, and found to have miraculous qualities. Piero’s frescoes depict this story in many, many different scenes which are spread up, down and all around the front of the Church of Saint Francis. The frescoes of the story are not laid out linearly, but scattered from one wall to another, back and forth. Standing in the center and looking up at the beautiful artwork in every direction is an experience looking at pictures of the individual scenes does not allow. There is definitely much to be gained from visiting artwork in person. Had we only looked at pictures of these in a book, we might have missed a lot. For example, while standing in the church, Professor Banker pointed out to us that the lighting in the paintings (with the exception of one done by an apprentice) follows the natural lighting in the room, something all good Renaissance artists strived to achieve. The most famous of these scenes are The Annunciation, where Gabriel announces to Mary that God has chosen her to be the mother of His Son, and also The Queen of Sheba, where the Queen comes to visit King Solomon.

Flagellazione, Ducal Palace, Urbino

In Urbino we saw the palace of Federico da Montefeltro, the man in the famous portrait done by Piero that you have probably seen before. He was a very powerful duke and extremely wealthy. In fact, he earned more money every year than was in the Medici bank. After walking through the Ducal Palace I gathered that he might also have been slightly egotistical, because everywhere—on the walls and ceilings—were symbols representing Federico and his power, such as the eagle. In the palace we were able to look at the Flagellation of Christ, by Piero. It is a very interesting painting because it has two groups of men whose identities remain a mystery. One of them reappears in several of Piero’s paintings, and some scholars argue that he was a prominent lawyer at the time and a relation of Piero. The painting also shows how well Piero could use linear perspective—the idea that lines in a painting converge at some point in the distance. In addition to being a talented painter, Piero was also a brilliant mathematician. He rediscovered several mathematical concepts that had not been used since ancient Greece, and could expertly calculate lines and ratios in his compositions.

I Vestiti

In the past few weeks there has been so much happening that I have not been able to squeeze anything about fashion into my journal until now. One of the first things I noticed when we arrived was the differences in the way people dress, especially the men. Many Italian men are not afraid to dress boldly, and often sport brightly colored pants in purple, red, teal, gold, deep rose, or orange, as well as a variety of striped or patterned shirts. Both men and women tend to wear over-the-shoulder bags, as well as sweaters, which are generally tied around the shoulders. Also, it seems that women like to wear pants with a plethora of pockets, almost cargo-style. There are also fewer people who walk out of the house in sweats and tennis shoes, or dressed sloppily as if they just rolled out of bed. Italians aren’t all perfect pictures of fashion, but in general they always seem to look presentable at least.

Buon Appetito!

Before I came to Italy, I thought the idea of Italians eating mounds of pasta and pizza was just a myth, a stereotype. It’s not. Since I have been here, I have eaten pizza and/or pasta every day. That being said, it is delicious and greatly varied, and I don’t think I have had the same type of pasta more than twice in the month I’ve spent here. There are also many different types of pizza. So far, the strangest pizza I’ve ordered was carrot pizza, and my favorite toppings are prosciutto and artichoke.


Margarita cooks gorgeous lunches for us during the week, and I am afraid I am getting very spoiled. Somehow I don’t think I will be able to get salad, soup, bread, pasta, a meat, vegetables, dessert and other dishes for lunch when I come back home. Surprisingly, my favorite parts of our lunches are the vegetables. Who knew there were dozens of ways to cook zucchini, all equally delicious? Or that caramelized onions were so irresistible? Or that eggplant tastes good in contexts other than eggplant parmesan?


Another important part of the Italian diet is coffee. Cafés never cease to have droves of people buzzing in and out, downing espressos. I used not to like coffee, but now I drink it every day. It is impossible to resist getting a cappuccino or latte when they only cost one euro and from my bedroom window I can see the café sitting on the street, calling my name.

Textures

One thing that has been inspiring me artistically is the variety of textures present everywhere. Although there are many, many different textures in the U.S., there is still a tendency towards perfectly straight, clean-cut lines, pure white houses with uniform black shutters, neighborhoods with matching mailboxes, and smooth, flat blacktop streets. When I walk down the street in Sansepolcro, I begin my journey treading on a stone tile-like street, eventually encounter classic cobblestone, sometimes run into bumpy rock paths, or sometimes meet rustic steps, of which there are no two alike. None of the buildings have smooth vinyl siding. Instead, they are covered by creamy yellow- or rose-colored plaster, which peels off in grungy patches, revealing the gray walls beneath. Some walls are made of bricks, some of stones, some of large slabs of rock. Even the roofs are highly textured; it is a mystery to me how crumbly terracotta relics can keep rain from leaking down inside, yet they seem to work well enough.

Some of these textures may seem like small details, and of course they are. But however subtle, the many textures of the streets serve as a backdrop for Italian life—a blending of vecchio and nuovo, a mixture of preserving the past and living in the present. I hope to continue discovering and relishing new textures and to incorporate them into my own art this semester. As of yet I have only observed and photographed them, but before long my art projects may begin to be very texturally influenced.

Firenze

Florence at Night, from Piazzale Michelangelo

Friday morning it happened—an event I looked forward to and anticipated since this summer. We went to Florence (or Firenze, as Italians say). I could scarcely contain my excitement at the thought of visiting a hefty chunk of the world’s famous art, and I could barely hide my nervous anticipation at the thought of traveling in a big city on my own. Happily, the art was better than even I in my blissful enthusiasm imagined, and the traveling was easier than my anxious mind thought possible.

Top: Statues in Piazza della Signora
Bottom: Meredith and I with the Arno River and Ponte Vecchio in the Background

As part of our Learn to Travel class we were required to read about Florence and make preparations for the trip, although the extent of our planning was left up to us. At first I thought I would leave Florence having seen only half of what I wanted to, simply because there is so much to see. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of activities we were able to squeeze into two and a half days, mainly due to our copious preparations. In total, I visited:

- The Uffizi Gallery, which houses the largest collection of Renaissance paintings in the world,
- The Accademia, home to Michelangelo’s David and Prisoners sculptures,
- The Bargello, which has many sculptures, including Donatello’s sassy David,
- The Duomo of Santa Maria del Fiore, tallest building in Florence and an icon of Renaissance architecture,
- The Medici Chapels, the Medici tombs carved by Michelangelo,
- The Archeology museum, which has a large Egyptian exhibit and several mummies,
- The Modern Art exhibit in the Pitti Palace, former home of the Medici family, as well as
- Piazzale Michelangelo, a hill on the outside of the city with beautiful views.

Top: On top of the Duomo, with a View of Florence in the Background

Bottom: The Amazing Detailing on the Front of the Duomo

All of these were wonderful experiences, but my favorite by far was the Uffizi Gallery. Standing a foot away from Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, Primavera, Madonnas, and Pallas and the Centaur, I found the experience otherworldly and it left me spell-bound. It was a feeling impossible to achieve by looking at the paintings in a book. In The Birth of Venus I was captivated by its magnificent size and by Botticelli’s delicate use of shiny gold detailing in Venus’ hair, in the Wind’s wings, in the flowers suspended in the air. My Uffizi guidebook noted that though Venus is very beautiful, Botticelli painted her innocently, not sensually. He also thought that God could be honored through the manifestations of beauty in His creation.

Botticelli did paint beautifully. In art history, we have been discussing different cultural influences in artists’ works. One thing Botticelli was influenced by was dance, as is evidenced by the way he grouped his graceful figures. His figures’ faces also draw the viewer in. I could stare into the sweet, serene eyes of his Venus, Pallas, or Madonnas all day.


Michelangelo’s David in the Accademia was breathtaking, as well. His sheer size is stunning and it is difficult to imagine the effort used to create this vision of strength and beauty from a piece of rock. It’s funny that David ended up being a masterpiece, because originally the marble block Michelangelo carved him from was rejected by other sculptors because it was flawed and too poor to use. But Michelangelo believed God placed the beautiful figures into the marble already, and the sculptor’s job was to reveal it. This way of thinking is clear in his other statues in the Accademia, the Prisoners, a series of people who seem to stretch and pull themselves from the unfinished marble blocks that hold them captive.

In addition to the many aspects of art we studied while in Florence, another purpose of our trip was to learn the basics of using public transportation. It was the first time I had ever ridden a “real” bus and train, and I was quite nervous about it. Thankfully, Dr. Webb gave us thorough instructions and we managed to get around very well, both within the city and from Florence back to Sansepolcro. The bus drivers were very helpful and always told us when to get off if we weren’t sure of our stop, and the people we asked for directions always gave them graciously and were not agitated by our sometimes pathetic attempts at speaking Italian. Now, although I might not know everything there is to know about catching a train or finding the correct bus stop, I feel much more confident in my ability to figure it out or at least find the right people to ask.

On the Train Home

Despite the many glories of Florence, I was very glad to return to the palazzo in Sansepolcro Sunday night. Florence is, obviously, a big city, with many tourists, lots of noise, and tons of hustling and bustling. While there, at times I caught myself feeling almost annoyed with the swarms of tourists there and with how the city catered to them, writing more things in English than in Italian it seemed. I think I met more Americans during a weekend in Florence than I have during a weekend in America. In three short weeks I have grown very attached to Sansepolcro and am exceedingly grateful to call it my home.

Random Things I Didn't Know About Italy

1) I thought the idea of Italians eating nothing but pasta and pizza was just a stereotype. It's not. I eat pasta and/or pizza (quite often and) every day. It is always delicious, but sometimes repetitive. Italy simply doesn't have as many international foods as America. I do love me some prosciutto and artichoke pizza, though.

2) Italian children get out of school at 1pm and go home to have lunch with their families. Sounds nice, right? It probably is, but they also have to go to school six days a week, so it's a trade off.

3) Italians walk really, really slow. Ironically, they complain that Americans walk too fast. I must admit, I do love walking up and down the street at night with all of the Sansepolcrans. It is a quaint, relaxing daily ritual.

4) There are vast differences between Italy's many regions, and even more between Italy's north and south. Regional dialects are very prevalent. In fact, several of the people I know who were born here in Tuscany and Umbria said that they can't even understand people from Venice or down south in Naples because they speak in completely different dialects and also have very heavy accents.

5) Sicily is controlled by the Mafia. For real. It's because in the past Sicily has been controlled by many other countries and never had a very solid government. The mafia grew to compensate for this, and was never really dealt with when Italy became a unified country.

6) Italians are obsessed with espresso. They drink multiple shots of it throughout the day. I can't quite handle it myself, but I do like sipping a cappuccino after a long day of classes.

7) I don't think there are any school buses. Italian kids just use public transportation or walk. Every time I've ridden a bus or train in the afternoon there were swarms of tweens and teens hopping on and off on their way home from school.

Il Conto, Per Favore

Now that I have been here for a couple weeks, I am beginning to notice some of the less obvious cultural differences between Italy and the United States. One of these is the difference in customer service. In the U.S. when you go to a restaurant, the waiter visits your table every few minutes to see if you need ketchup, to make sure you have enough refills, and just generally to make sure you are enjoying your meal. Although they would never say this to a customer, part of the reason behind this is to herd as many people through the restaurant as they can so they make as much money as possible. In Italy, servers have a completely different attitude and approach. When you purchase anything, even a shot of 1 euro espresso, you have also purchased your table, and may stay there as long as you like. There have been many times where I’ve spent hours sitting at a café for the price of a cappuccino and was never disturbed, not even to clear my cup. It is a pleasantly refreshing way to spend an afternoon.

A few nights ago, Meredith H., Meredith C., Patsy and I went to a new restaurant to get pizza. Our waitress took our order and brought us our food, but left us on our own after that. We might have sat there all evening if we had not eventually waved her down and asked for the bill: “Il conto, per favore.” On Sunday there was another incident I found rather humorous. Meredith H. and I were desperately in need of a non-pasta/pizza meal and headed to a nearby kebab restaurant. When we approached the entrance, the two men who worked there were sitting outside enjoying a cigarette. We exchanged buonaseras and walked through the door, expecting them to follow. To our surprise, they did not budge, but merely turned their heads and asked if we minded waiting while they finished their smoke. After five or ten minutes, they got up and proceeded to make our sandwiches. Although we were a little taken aback by this at first, we honestly did mind waiting, but enjoyed talking to them.

These are just two examples of the ways people in Italy tend to be more relaxed than in the United States, where we always seem to be rushing from one thing to another. Since I’ve been here, I have felt less stressed and more at ease, even with a full course load, travel plans, and countless other things to attend to. I hope in the future—even when I finish my studies here and return home—I will carry this attitude with me, and always make time to appreciate and enjoy life.

Palio della Balestra

Approaching week three here in Sansepolcro, I am settled in and beginning to feel at home. One thing that hastened my endearment to the town was being able to attend and participate in Palio della Balestra, a festival held every year in September. “Balestra” means “crossbow,” and the Palio is an ancient competition, dating back to at least 1594, if not earlier. There have been various events taking place since last weekend, finally climaxing Sunday at the crossbow tournament with our Umbrian archrivals, the town of Gubbio.


Balestra week began last Saturday. In the morning there was a market with many Renaissance-garbed people selling goods such as handmade paper and handspun yarn, pastries, flower wreaths, and other things. That evening, there was a long processional through the town and into the main piazza, or town square. All of the Meredith students were invited to participate in it, a very special honor that I was extremely excited for. That evening we met in the street dressed in our pretty pink, teal, red, cream, green, and navy medieval gowns. We paraded through the streets and into the piazza, taking our front row seats. It was a lovely evening and included performances by a fire juggler, dancers, a vocalist, people on stilts, and also Sansepolcro’s famous flag wavers. By the end of the evening, I was a bit cold and tired of sitting up straight like a Renaissance lady, but also thrilled that I, an American student, had the opportunity to experience being in a local Italian festival like this.

On Wednesday Balestra continued with a crossbow competition between Sansepolcran teams. Most Italian cities have several gates; one faces Florence, and another faces Rome. It was these two sides of the city—Porta Romana and Porta Fiorentina—that competed against each other for the chance to represent Sansepolcro in the big Palio against Gubbio. We cheered for Porta Fiorentina but, sadly, lost. That night, men in colorful tights and ladies in long flowy gowns and donut-shaped headdresses marched through the city, playing drums loudly and singing “Porta Romana! Porta Romana!” Then on Saturday evening there was another event, mainly featuring the flag wavers. Several of us were asked to dress up for it again, and so we wore primavera dresses and flowers. This time it was rather disappointing because we walked around the piazza and walked right back out, and were not able to see the performance.

However, any disappointments from Saturday night were forgotten on Sunday, when we were able to watch the Palio between Sansepolcro and Gubbio from our stadium seats in the afternoon daylight. Lines and lines of women walked in wearing elegant dresses and their hair in strange yet beautiful concoctions. Men wearing brightly colored caped tunics and tights marched in, too. Some were playing drums or horns, others were flag wavers, and others were part of the crossbow teams. There were many, many more people than I expected to see, both participating in the Palio and watching it. The piazza was completely filled with crossbow shooters, medieval damsels, drummers, trumpeters, and flag wavers. The seats surrounding it were also full, and there was quite a crowd of people pressed up against the barriers in the streets, trying their best to sneak a peek.


Before any crossbow shooting began, the flag wavers came out and performed the same routines I missed seeing Saturday night. It is truly a treat to watch them. Not only can they twirl their flags around in perfect synchronization, but they also throw them in the air and to other people, and always manage to catch them in perfect timing. Sometimes they stand in a circular formation and throw their flags to the person across from them, so the flags crisscross in the air. There were some routines involving dozens of people, and also some solos. At one point one man was twirling and juggling three flags simultaneously, using his hands, arms, feet, and legs. At first the flag twirling seemed strange to me, because in America no man would be caught dead prancing around in hot pink and bright green tights, twirling a flag around his head. Here, however, it is a cherished tradition, one that boys begin when they are very young, and continue until they are parents and even grandparents. In the Palio there was a small boy—I later learned he was four years old—who stood proudly in the square and twirled a solo. It ended with him throwing his flag gallantly into the air, but not quite managing to catch it. He was precious.


After the flag wavers finished, then came the part we were all waiting for—the crossbow shooting. The first man approached the stand, rested his crossbow on it and eyed the target. He fired, sending his arrow swooshing through the air and hitting the target with a thwap. It was almost perfectly centered and the crowd cheered. Man, after man, after man proceeded to follow suit until the target was so full of arrows there was no more room on it. I thought they were finished, or at least would get a new target, but no—they continued firing for at least fifteen more minutes. Finally, when the target was so full arrows were falling out and it looked like a bouquet, they stopped. Several official-looking people took away the target and, in a mysterious process that no one seemed to understand, judged who the winner was. After a lengthy wait, the target was brought back out, this time with a single arrow in the center. Much to our delight, Sansepolcro was the victor! As the audience clapped passionately and the Sansepolcran team members congratulated each other, I began to feel pride that this was my home, albeit a temporary one.

Meredith Journal

While in Italy, all of the students are required to keep a travel journal that is posted on Meredith's website. I just submitted my first entry, so feel free to check it out, or read other students' journals. There is some overlap from what I write on this blog, but some new things, too.

Travel Journal

To read each person's journal, click their name on the left sidebar.

Exciting Happenings

It has been one week since we arrived in Sansepolcro! It seems like we are all settling in and now our classes are starting to pick up. Today I had Italian, Italy Today, and Learn to Travel in the morning, then lunch. After that I decided to take a nap. My excuse for napping is that it is part of the Italian culture, and so while I'm here I ought to try and experience it, right?

Later this afternoon we had our first Bible study. Three other girls and I have decided to read Crazy Love together this semester while we are here. It was such a blessing and I am very thankful that we can support each other, especially while we are away from our church families and other Christian friends.

I cannot wait for tomorrow because my art history class is going to the Museo Civico here in town to see Francesca's Resurrection. I don't know if words can express just how thrilled I am to have the opportunity to study art here, where I live down the street from some of the best paintings in the world.

In Italy Today I learned an interesting story about this painting. In WWII Sansepolcro was occupied by Germans. At one point the British army was advancing with the intent of bombing Sansepolcro to rid it of the Germans. However, the British Captain in charge of the advance remembered reading a piece by Aldous Huxley, where he proclaimed Francesca's Resurrection to be the the greatest painting in the world. Because he did not want to harm the painting, the Captain ordered the army to stop. The Germans ended up retreating, and so the Resurrection saved Sansepolcro from destruction. I thought that was a really neat story.

Starting last weekend and continuing to this weekend there is a festival called Balestra going on. There are several events, one of which involved us dressing up in medieval dresses and walking in a procession. You might have seen pictures of it on facebook. Last weekend and this weekend there was also a pasta festival. I did not go because it cost 10 euros, but it seemed like fun. On Wednesday and Sunday there are crossbow tournaments. Yes, crossbows. Sansepolcro is divided into two sides, the side closer to Rome and the side closer to Florence, and the tournament on Wednesday is between these two sides. Then on Sunday the competition is between Sansepolcro and Gubbio, our arch rivals across the border in Umbria. I will definitely write more about it later this weekend. Until then, arrividerci!

Sunday Escapades

As I mentioned earlier, not knowing much Italian can be problematic at times. One of these times was Sunday, when Meredith and I decided to go to a local supermarket called the Coop, a mile or two away. We just recently got our bikes fixed up and wanted to take them for a maiden voyage. Although we were at the Coop a few days ago with Dr. Webb and John Rose, we couldn’t remember where it was and so enthusiastically set off in the wrong direction. Eventually we stopped and asked an elderly lady for directions in our very poor Italian. She explained—completely in Italian—where the Coop was and we were quite proud of ourselves that we were able to understand. However, she kept saying something about domenica. Nevertheless we headed towards the Coop, braving macho Italian drivers and weaving through pedestrians, finally arriving at our destination. Only when we saw the doors were shut and the lights were off did we realize that domenica is the word for Sunday, and the lady must have been trying to tell us that the Coop is closed Sundays, as many Italian stores are. We were disappointed but still proud that we had interpreted at least part of what she had told us. We ended the day happily—with a gelato, of course.

Buongiorno!

So far Italy is beautiful! The Palazzo Alberti where we live is a gorgeous 15th century building and the birthplace of Renaissance artist Piero della Francesca. Perhaps you recognize his Baptism of Christ or Resurrection.


The latter painting is in a museum here in Sansepolcro. I haven't actually been to it yet but the other day I did squish my nose against the window and see it hanging on the wall. It feels very strange to be this close to things that I've read about in my art history book!

While I'm here I will be taking an art history class focusing on Italian Renaissance art and artists, and I am extremely excited about that. I'm also taking Color Theory, Italy Today, Learn to Travel, and Italian. The next couple of weeks our Italian class is very intensive. I'm very thankful for that because right now not knowing any Italian is problematic at times. I bought a bike from a student who was here last semester, and in a little while I am going to try and get some air in the tires and a helmet. The bike shop owner doesn't speak any English at all though, so I may have to bring my Italian dictionary with me. Hopefully we can figure things out alright.

Sansepolcro is a lovely town. My room is above a pizzeria on the main street so it can be a little noisy. Italians walk almost everywhere, all the time, and there are always people outside talking. It is really very pleasant. Some of the other girls and I have been surprised by how late everyone stays out, especially the children. Last night I was at a cafe until 11:30 or 12 and even at that time there were still parents with toddlers and little kids walking around. They have a completely different schedule than we do in the States, where parents never like to stay out late with their children. Here we usually have a nice big, long lunch, sometimes followed by a nap. All the little shops are closed from 1-4 for this reason, then they reopen and people stay out late. I am actually writing this while I'm waiting for the bike shop to open, but it's almost 4 so I can go now. Hopefully I'll be posting lots on this blog so keep checking back!