Siena and Venice

Right now, my bags are packed, all except for my computer, and I am going to the airport in an hour to return to the States after being gone for over 10 months. I don't have dates on this entry because I already packed my journal into my carry-on and, ha, I'm feeling a little too lethargic to retrieve it. I meant to write this entry a week ago, but that's all right. Just know that after I get back, I still have Ravenna, Bologna, and Assisi to tell you about.

Siena is a small town we visited a week ago, but unfortunately, it had high prices to get into things. In the spirit of staying with the group, I sat in the main piazza and sketched one of the worst done sketches I have executed the entire trip. At the very least, it had some good gelato and the various churches were lovely from the outside.

Venice, on the other hand, was absolutely magnificent. I had always heard so much about it and wanted to visit it, and it did not fail to meet my expectations. Taking a water taxi on the Grand Canal, I was enchanted by its many bridges, its unique buildings, and the little water alleyways off the canal. It amazes me how people can live so surrounded by water. Our first stop was the Peggy Guggenheim Museum.

I'm usually not much of a fan of modern art, but I did find some of the Jackson Pollock paintings in there mesmerizing. Even if they are just paint splatters, there's something captivating about the texture to it. The painting I sketched, though, was this beautiful work called "The Substance of Fog" which described its scene in very few lines, with nothing but simple shading. It killed my blue colored pencil, which was the first colored one to become shorter than my soft lead sketching pencil. That was amusing.

Afterwards, we stopped for lunch and shopped at a mask shop next door. I love Venetian masks, and had always wanted one. Looking through the brilliant collection of vibrant colors, feathers, and sparkles, I was like a kid in a candy shop. Then, when we reached the Piazza di San Marco, my mind was blown away by its astonishing beauty. It's hard to describe the way the light falls on the cathedral there--the soft blending of gold into the facade full of winged lions, the symbol of St. Mark. His bones are said to be in there, smuggled to Venice at the height of its power.

We visited the Bridge of Sighs, which was where prisoners condemned to death or life in prison would walk to get their last view of Venice and sigh. The gondoliers, of course, say that if you kiss under the bridge, your love will last a lifetime. I did not take a gondola, as they cost about 100 euros per trip, but I'd heard the superstition before. Apparently, there's only one female gondolier in all of Venice, the first one ever. Sadly, we did not see her at work. There were plenty of gondolas in the canals though. They are truly elegant crafts, with their long, black tapered ends and gold designs.

Then, we entered the cathedral of San Marco. It is curious, how the floor is wavy. This is from years of the water moving underneath it. Venice sinks a little more every year, and in the piazza, they just keep on rebuilding the floor, making the pillars on the portico shorter and shorter all the time. There are also many lovely Byzantine mosaics in the cathedral, too much for the senses to take in. We heard mass sung in Vietnamese, which was a bizarre but lovely experience.

We walked back to the train station from there, over the Rialto bridge. It was a long walk, but well worth some of the local sights, like seeing people load their personal motorboats like one would a car and leave. There were also many fascinating shops we never entered, but boasted of eye-teasingly beautiful wares as we passed them.

At any rate, a lovely day. As for now, less than an hour remains before I get to go to the airport. I'm so excited! Thanks for reading all year long, those of you who have. I really appreciate it. Many hugs from Italy, soon to be in America again!

Rome, July 9-10

Last week I had the pleasure of traveling to Rome. It was an exciting trip, with many wonders to see, and even a once-in-a-lifetime experience where. . . well, you'll see.

We left the school at six in the morning. After some time on the road, we stopped for breakfast and coffee at an Autogrill, and I went up to the counter to order a caffe nocciola. "Ticket?" the lady asked. Bewildered, she continued, "You pay first." I heard her mutter, "American," behind my back with that patronizing chuckle I try to avoid hearing. This irritated me, but the coffee was good and put me in a good mood for the day.

As soon as we arrived in Rome, we made our way to the church where Michelangelo's Moses is held at the tomb of Pope Julius II. It is truly an incredible work; I love the way his beard, hair, and clothes flow together. It's amusing, too, how much he does resemble Charlton Heston. The relic of that church was odd, too--the supposed shackles of Paul and Silas the night the angel freed them. There was also aan entertainingly creepy sculpture of a skeletal angel of death there.

From there, we went to see the Coliseum, Rome's most recognizable monuement. It's massive, a perfect oval, with rooms exposed from what would have been beneath the floor for the animals used in gladiator battles. A cross recognizes the deaths of Christians there. Next to it is Constantine's Arch, which is absolutely gigantic. I'm guessing whoever did the Arc du Triomphe in Paris had a good look at it during the design process.

We ate lunch in the shade of the trees next to the Parthenon, then explored its ruins. After spending last summer in Athens, these didn't impress me so much, but it was fascinating to think that at one point, this was the center of the mighty and massive Roman Empire. Some say that empire never ended.

The Vatican City is built like a fortress. As we entered security, I was told to leave my backpack at the concierge. I mention this now because. . . well, you'll see.

Shuffling through the enormous halls of the Musei Vaticani is an experience beyond what even my vocabulary has available to write about. I have seen many large buildings, many overdecorated Baroque buildings, but nothing like this, nothing this impressive. To get to the Sistine Chapel, I walked past many wonders, such as the controversial statue Michelangelo is said to have sculpted, then sold as an antiquity. I was impressed by the Raphael fresco, the School of Athens. I never knew it was so large. The Sistine Chapel is worthy of all the praise it has received. I spent an hour sketching one of the larger sibyls, Libica, which caused me to appreciate the effort Michelangelo must have gone to in order to finish before the wet fresco dried.

Coming out of there, I took a wrong turn and wound up in the crypt, where a number of popes are buried. I paid my respects to the most recently deceased pope, John Paul II, who had a number of lovely metallic roses over his tomb. I also peered into the supposed tomb of St. Peter, which was highly decorated. I could sense the importance of these tombs to the Catholic religion, even though I do not share their faith, but nothing could prepare me for the interior of St. Peter's Basilica.

Not only are its dimensions unfathomable, but designed with the sorts of proportions that make the observer, no matter how brave, shake with the impression of their own insignificance. The space is very high, lit almost solely from the lantern of Michaelangelo's dome, which casts large, harsh shafts of light all over the church. Even Michelangelo's lovely, more human-looking Pieta shrinks into the background in the mere contemplation of the building's striking features. I listened to the end of mass, sung in mens' voices, and walked the length of it. I passed pilgrims, priests (some of them putting away their vestments from performing mass), and penitents confessing their sins. My emotions were mixed. I couldn't bear to stay and I couldn't rip myself away from it.

My friends gently took me outside, to the massive yet slightly more friendly-looking piazza designed by Bernini. It suddenly struck me, as I was admiring the orange and blue uniform of a Swiss guard, that I still did not have my backpack. I ran, panicked, all the way around the outside of the Vatican City wall, back to the entrance of the museums, just to find it all shut up tightly. I walked back, weeping and sick and tired of losing things. One of the teachers comforted me and agreed to help me pick it up in the morning. In the hotel that night, I sketched a still life of all of my earthly possessions at the time, and the mere fact that they all fit in one page was depressing.

In the morning, a solid breakfast put me back into a good mood as we started on the walking tour. We saw so many things, starting with the Italian eternal flame in the piazza which also contains the former Venetian embassy, and the building with the balcony from which Mussolini gave his speeches. From there, we saw Bernini's famous Four Rivers fountain and the church next to it, the Agony of St. Agnes (it contains her shrunken head). The Pantheon, which we saw next, was very impressive, perfectly preserved from 116 AD with its missing keystone in the middle. This allowed for a shaft of light to illuminate one of the walls, opposite from Raphael's tomb.

We went on to the Trevanni Fountain, where it is said that if you toss a coin in, you will have good luck and return to Rome in your lifetime. I did this, and it made me optimistic in going to the Vatican to pick up my backpack from the Vatican.

First, we tried the museum entrance, where I'd left it. They sent us over to the other end of the Vatican City, from which they sent us to what could best be described as the back door of the Vatican. There, the Swiss guards, after eyeing our appearance to make sure our intentions were good (I could see them linger at my cross; it's good camouflage in situations like this), let us through.

Inside, we were trying to find the office that had been indicated, and saying to each other, "You know, Obama's supposed to be meeting with the Pope today." We turned a corner and saw a line of Swiss guards standing in front of one of the doors to the Vatican, the red feathers in their hats fluttering in the wind. Behind them, in front of us, there was a polished limo running and waiting, boasting both the Italian and Papal flags. Even if that wasn't for the Pope or Obama, without a doubt, it was cool to see. I got my backpack restored to me, but the cool things were just beginning.

After a good piece of pizza and some excellent iced coffee, we met the group at the Spanish steps, then made our way to the Villa Borghese. Our reservation was pushed back by an hour, so we relaxed outside for a bit, listening to the jazz music of a street musician. One of our students drew him, then exchanged the drawing for his CD. Inside the Villa Borghese, were the two Bernini sculptures I'd always wanted to see, Apollo and Dafne (which shows her in the process of turning into a tree) and Hades and Demeter. I drew, in this one, the way the hands press into her flesh as though it were real.

On our way out was the really cool stuff. We passed convoys of diplomatic cars on our way out of the city, returning to Rome from the G8 Conference. After watching that at length, we heard the sound of a helicopter, looked behing, and--three US military helicopters, headed to from the Vatican to one of the smaller, older airports. Undoubtedly, one of these was carrying Obama, for no one would secure such a small airport with so many lines of police for anyone less.

In short, it was an amazing trip, in many ways, with once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Tomorrow, to Siena, and Thursday, to Venice. I wish everyone such good fortune, no matter what adversity it appears at first. Keep praying for my lost luggage in Spain! I love you all, very much, and am looking forward to seeing some of you in so little time.

Florence, 6/29/09-7/8/09

Yes, I made it to Italy! It wasn't without problems--I did end up leaving half of my possessions in the Valencia airport thanks to RyanAir luggage regulations (which are not very clear online), but despite this profound loss, I've enjoyed the PUC Honors Beauty course here so far. It's still possible, after all, to have the luggage rescued.

Every day here is packed, and that is why I haven't written yet. The school, Villa Aurora, is on its own a work of art, the dorm being the villa of a cousin of one of the Medicis. Even though a historical building can be frustrating to live in (no air conditioning), it is still really cool to get up in the morning, look at the other tower, and go, "Wow, I'm in Florence." Unlike Sagunto, there is lovely vegetation everywhere, plenty of grass and flowers everywhere.

The first day of class had us in a drawing workshop, the first of two we've already had. This was very helpful, as we went to the Galleria dell Accademia that very afternoon, where Michelangelo's David is. None of the photos or art discussions really prepare the viewer for the sheer proportions of the David. He is over three times my height! Sketching is a requirement for every museum we visit, so I went looking for something else in the museum to sketch. I enjoyed their musical instrument, triptic, and plaster cast collections, but none of it really captivate the eye quite like the tall, powerful David. I spent some time sketching him, spellbound by the near perfection of the sculpting.

Our next day was already our first all-day excursion to a lovely set of five towns on the coast called Cinque Terre. Between the first two of the five towns, Riomaggiore and Manarola, there is a beautiful walk dedicated to love. People have left libraries worth of graffiti on the walls to profess their love, and others have left padlocks on the fences to represent how long and unbreakable their love is. There is also a cliff there called the Mother-in-Law Cliff, because no one would survive the drop, but I find this to be a very horrible thing to do to a mother-in-law.

I kept walking, all the way to the next town of Comiglia, enjoying the scenery and the company of my classmates. Daunted by the staircases, I skipped it and took the train to the town of Vernazza, which I explored on my own. The warm colors of the buildings were so lovely that I attempted to sketch it in color, but that was a bit of a disaster, ha. I put aside my childish attempt and trained over to the last one, Monterosso al Mare, where I found my friends again. One of them had been stung by a jellyfish, poor girl. We explored the town at length. There was a man sculpted out of one of the cliffs, some wonderfully cheap gelato, a long tunnel with wave designs on the wall, stores framed by flowers, and even a peculiar church with a somewhat frightening number of skulls inside.

For a rest, we took the next day off to have 6 hours of class instead, three in drawing workshop and the other three in normal class. Then, Friday, we hit another museum, the Bargello, which used to be a jail. It's famous for Donatello and Verrochio's David sculptures. It was also interesting to see panels used in the contest of who would get to sculpt what are now Ghiberti's Doors of Paradise across from Brunelleschi's massive dome. Did I sketch any of these? No; there was a sculpture of a Dying Adonis I liked too much, and did horribly at sketching.

Even Sabbath, we had an excursion. This one was optional, but it was still a bit of a hike. It was to the Villa della Petraia, which overlooks the city of Florence, making Brunelleschi's dome look like a child's toy. It was owned by the Medicis first, during which many splendid frescoes were painted in the courtyard. Also, a king lived there with his lover at one point; her room was a peaceful silken blue that I admired very much. After taking in all of these lovely rooms full of history, we walked back for our Fourth of July party at the school. There was barbecue, gelato, watermelon, and even some fun little fireworks. A group of us gathered around the fire and sang until it even annoyed me enough to leave.

The next morning we actually saw Ghiberti's Doors of Paradise, then visited the museum nearby, where the real panels (not the copies outside) are kept. They are truly amazing works of art, though I spent more time with Donatello's Magdalena carved out of wood. Her roughly carved features would inspire pity in the hardest of hearts.

Monday morning's excursion (yes, yet another!) was to the Capella Brancacci and Santa Maria Novella. The first was small, yet lovely. I fell in love with a self-portrait of one of the artists, who just happened to have a very pretty face. My sketching in Santa Maria Novella was not so successful, sadly, thanks to how dark it was in there. The frescoes behind the altar are truly amazing, though. What amused me were all the women having to wear funny-looking blue robe thingies to cover up their bare shoulders.

What really took the strength out of my brain, though, was the Uffizi Gallery, where we spent the whole day yesterday. This is one of the oldest art galleries in the world, designed by the art historian Vasari, whose book we just finished in class. There were great wonders within, beautiful works by the likes of Botticelli, Leonardo da Vinci, and Caravaggio. I went through the entire museum as a start, pausing in front of Botticelli's Primavera and Birth of Venus for the full emotional satisfaction of seeing them in person after spending a ridiculous amount of time researching them Winter quarter. The very few Greco and Goya paintings there made me feel right at home. The most impressive piece to me, though, was a shield by Caravaggio with the head of Medusa painted on it--it looked like it would leap out and come alive.

Then, I went back to sketch. The crowds in front of the Birth of Venus intimidated me, so I sketched one of Botticelli's madonnas instead. He used the same model, Simonetta Vespucci, after all. After an hour, I felt like I finally had the folds of her veil right, which were a real headache. I stuffed myself with some lunch, then went downstairs in hopes of sketching the shield, but once again, there were too many people in front of it. So, I found a painting of the Annunciation with a candle in the center of it, and wound up spending over an hour and a half working on the candle and the folds of Mary's robe behind it--in color. By the time I finished, I was basically staggering. I did one more halfhearted sketch of a sculpture before leaving and collapsing, exhausted, in the portico next to the main square.

We were given this morning off, and with reason. Let's be honest--how many of you have made it this far just reading about it? Add to that massive reading assignments for each day, and you have the size and shape of the program. Tomorrow, very early, we depart for Rome. I'm excited, for two reasons. First, I've always wanted to see the Vatican. Secondly, that's two days free of reading assignments to hopefully get ahead. Thank you for your patience in making it to the end of this, if you have; I appreciate it. I hope you're having a wonderful summer, full of great experiences.