The Renaissance in a Day
8/9/06 Florence
Today was a brutal day of beauty with grueling forays into onto the steeper slopes of the Arts. I had originally intended to wake up early and make it out to the museums prior to the barbarian hordes, but that didn't happen as I'm sure you can imagine. When I arrived at the Uffizi at 10ish the lines curved around the courtyard to the other side such that the head and tail of the line were roughly even. I debated getting into the line but just then several groups left the line in despair and it moved forward quite a bit, which I took as a sign. I'm not sure who sent the sign but I spent some 2.5 hours in the line building up the image of the Uffizi in my mind. This was a bad move because I was thinking something along the lines of the Louvre times pi squared, and instead I got a lot less ... this was somewhat repeated at the Galleria dell' Accademia except for a shorter wait but in the sun.
Again I won't tell you the sort of thing you can see in any guidebook or catalog. The Uffizi did have have more than one surprise for me though. Specifically the portraits of Saladin and Mahomet (sic) the Great in the main hall among the grandees on display, and the statue of Laocoon and his sons being killed by the serpent as they tried to warn the Trojans about the large cliche in front of their gates. Those few objects made the long wait more than worth it, even as I was set to just curse the whole thing. But then there was something even better...
As I was trying to leave (and getting more and more agitated at the slow moving Germans around me) I found myself in a different exhibit: Leonardo, the Universal Genius. My eyes were opened. I had always taken it as given that Leonardo, the man, was interested in a lot more than young boys and the rather plain wives of second tier merchants but I had no idea how much. To see this exhibit you'd think that there was almost nothing in the arts, sciences and engineering that he wasn't interested in and innovating in. That's not including the minor work he did in mathematics, as evinced in the Vitruvian Man, which apparently links the dimensions of man to the mathematical Golden Mean. It's the ultimate melding of the mathematics, art and physiognomy and leaves me with only one question. Where did he find the time to do all this stuff? Art is time consuming and pain-staking, so how do you find time to do studies of perspective - including building experimental apparatuses to test and prove your theories? Engineering requires a lot of work, so how do you come up with the principles for flying machines and tanks and bicycles and cranes and clockwork...? Coming up with the ideas I can see, but the time to realize so much of it, and in a world where everything was inconvenient and required a lot of work (try to imagine getting a quick lunch in 1530) - it's simply staggering. The man was something else, and I walked out of the exhibit far more satisfied.
The time in line wasn't entirely wasted, though I do regret not having brought anything to occupy me but a copy of the New Yorker that I had was almost through with. I got to observe the movements of that most skittish of creatures, the illegal street vendor. Herds of them walk through the city, carrying sacks made of blankets or cardboard portfolios. These are actually sophisticated conveyances for their wares which can be quickly gathered up and moved - something that happens whenever the police happen by. You can tell before they arrive, because there is a ripple of awareness in the vendors like a wind in the savannah grasses. It's like watching wildebeest get wind of a lion in the grass and then scatter. It'd be amusing if one weren't standing in a slow moving line with no one to talk to.
After my adventure with the museums I retired to the hotel for a bit before venturing out to dinner. The air was soft as I walked along the Arno to the small restaurant I'd found the day before. I had been quite active and decided to treat myself and had a large and satisfying dinner. As I made my way back I crossed the Ponto Vecchio and heard the sounds of music. It was an Italian busker doing Coldplay covers to a rather large crowd on the bridge. I smiled at the odd sight and wandered to the hotel along the river as far as I could.