As compensation for all of the rain I've had to endure for the past 3 weeks, the regional food producers have brought their wares into Florence for tasting festival. Specifically, olive oil makers have the first press of their oils, bright green, piquant and utterly surprising to my palette, used to supermarket or even just bottled brand from Sonoma County. This bears no resemblance to even extra, extra virgin oil. I was told that Toscanos love their olive oil fresh, bright, and spicey ... saturating bread, eaten before meals, during meals, between meals. There were white tents set up in the piazzas with tables full of the stuff from dozens of different orchards and producers, each slightly different, but all very different from what I expected. During the last weekend there was a new twist; some of the producers were putting salt into the bread soaked with oil; this made it more palatable to my mouth ... just as I was getting used to the delicious freshness of the pure oil....
Last weekend the vintner came into town. At the Pitti Palace 250 wineries from around the Chianti area brought reds, whites and a few prosecos to a happy crowd for tasting. 10 euros bought you a glass, a bag and supposedly 10 tastes, but very few stamped the counting cards, so one could really sample as many as one liked. I did not sip a chianti that I didn't like and I was introduced to a few whites that I'll look for when I get home.
Other treats in the market were fresh cheeses of all sorts (peccorino may be a generic Italy cheese), salames, and for one fleeting day, truffles. When traveling, never pass up an item you think you will want the next time it comes around ... it won't come around again. The truffles were there; I saw them; I smelled them (can't possibly describe the smell); and they were gone the next day. I content myself with a small jar of chopped truffles in paste...
Monday, November 22, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
My Reincarnation: a movie in Florence
Last night I went to a film at the Odeon Cinema. Florence is hosting a 90 day film festival and for a week there will be internationally produced documentaries presented at 5 venues. I saw a film made by American, Jennifer Fox, called "My Reincarnation", a coming of age story of a young man whose father is a Rinpoche of the Dzogchen sect of Tibetan Buddhism. The father had to leave Tibet during the Chinese invasion and came to Italy to live, marry, raise a family and start a Buddhist Center in Tuscany. His son, Yehsin, was believed to be the reincarnation of his dead uncle, and it was hoped that he would return to Tiber to take on his responsibiity. Yeshin wanted none of this as the movie starts. The filmaker followed this family for 20 years and Yeshin finally did come to recognize the calling of the teacher, visited Tibet to be "installed" in his body, and became a teacher like his father.
Dzogchen masters: one's nature is like a mirror which reflects with complete openness but is not affected by the reflections, or like a crystal ball that takes on the colour of the material on which it is placed without itself being changed. In the practice of Dzogchen one is not distracted by thoughts, i.e. one does not let thoughts lead onself. This allows thoughts to naturally self-liberate without avoidance.
Dzogchen masters: one's nature is like a mirror which reflects with complete openness but is not affected by the reflections, or like a crystal ball that takes on the colour of the material on which it is placed without itself being changed. In the practice of Dzogchen one is not distracted by thoughts, i.e. one does not let thoughts lead onself. This allows thoughts to naturally self-liberate without avoidance.
Three weeks tomorrow
Three weeks into this trip and I know I planned it right (notwithstanding the weather, which I was prepared for). I've gotten to know the gelato and snack places I like best, I don't get lost in the angled streets anymore, and I've met some great companions at the class I took. I don't have to get up early, and get to eat when and what I want, like a bowl of oatmeal in my own kitchen. In fact, most of my eating is at the apartment ... truffle spread on crostini, goat cheese and pesto with pasta, new greens in my salads, and a cup of espresso every morning. I search for new flavors of gelato and now, semifreddo is on my radar. Patisseries still are my favorite shops to peek into.
If I have any criticism of Florence it's that there isn't enough greenery around. There are huge, beautiful gardens, to be sure, but they're mostly private (as in museums) or outside of the centro storico. I love the magnificent piazzas, but how much more beautiful they could be with grass or shrubs around them. During the movement of The David statue, a grass field was moved in front of the Duomo to mimic what it looked like in 1510. I was told the grass turf came from the city's soccer field, so it had to be returned ... and it was. But what a different feel there was, walking on grass instead of stone for a few days.
I love not getting lost as often as I did when I arrived, but am still finding new alleys to explore and surprise me. Yesterday, returning from a destination, I went up one street which looked like it was built for only pedestrians, and found the entrance to a public library in a crevise. Across from it (about 6 feet) was a civil office and ahead the stone path narrowed to yet another office and a stairway. All stone, all probably 600 years old or more.
The sense of the very old is around the corner from a colorful and gleaming shop
full of modern shoes or colorful gloves. These sensory surprises are one of the joys of traveling.
My eyes have been saturated with amazing paintings, sculpture and architecture--I feel awash in color, form, structure, religious iconography--and my brain has been taught a new way to comprehend it. The classes at the British Institute have been great. We've had 3 different lecturers ... two are American (both working on their dissertations, one with a Fulbright grant) and one an Englishwoman who's lived in Italy for 30 years, teaching and administering at university. They've covered the big three--Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael--in words, pictures and on tours (we're only about 12 students in the class so it's been really easy to get around), also discussing history, influences from others (artistic, religious and political) and the structural, philosophical and aesthetic developments of Renaissance art.
In a nutshell, it seems that with the rise artists' of power (because there was financial success in Florence, there was a demand for art) distinct and strong personalities (beginning with Leonardo da Vinci and Brunelleschi) started writing and thinking about art. Scientific (i.e., observational) skills helped art and architecture make monumental discoveries. The integration of math and science led the self-taught Leonardo into using perspective and then new structure (the triangle form) which led to the depiction of natural, active and engaged subjects. It also led Brunelleschi to engineer the fantastic domes of Rome and Florence. Leonardo's philosophy that the artist had power to create whatever he had the ability to imagine, and Michelangelo's idea that the form existed within the piece of stone and the artist had power to take away the dross to reveal the perfect, divine essence. For me, this enhanced the spirituality, even if it took away power from the church.
If I have any criticism of Florence it's that there isn't enough greenery around. There are huge, beautiful gardens, to be sure, but they're mostly private (as in museums) or outside of the centro storico. I love the magnificent piazzas, but how much more beautiful they could be with grass or shrubs around them. During the movement of The David statue, a grass field was moved in front of the Duomo to mimic what it looked like in 1510. I was told the grass turf came from the city's soccer field, so it had to be returned ... and it was. But what a different feel there was, walking on grass instead of stone for a few days.
I love not getting lost as often as I did when I arrived, but am still finding new alleys to explore and surprise me. Yesterday, returning from a destination, I went up one street which looked like it was built for only pedestrians, and found the entrance to a public library in a crevise. Across from it (about 6 feet) was a civil office and ahead the stone path narrowed to yet another office and a stairway. All stone, all probably 600 years old or more.
The sense of the very old is around the corner from a colorful and gleaming shop
full of modern shoes or colorful gloves. These sensory surprises are one of the joys of traveling.My eyes have been saturated with amazing paintings, sculpture and architecture--I feel awash in color, form, structure, religious iconography--and my brain has been taught a new way to comprehend it. The classes at the British Institute have been great. We've had 3 different lecturers ... two are American (both working on their dissertations, one with a Fulbright grant) and one an Englishwoman who's lived in Italy for 30 years, teaching and administering at university. They've covered the big three--Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael--in words, pictures and on tours (we're only about 12 students in the class so it's been really easy to get around), also discussing history, influences from others (artistic, religious and political) and the structural, philosophical and aesthetic developments of Renaissance art.
In a nutshell, it seems that with the rise artists' of power (because there was financial success in Florence, there was a demand for art) distinct and strong personalities (beginning with Leonardo da Vinci and Brunelleschi) started writing and thinking about art. Scientific (i.e., observational) skills helped art and architecture make monumental discoveries. The integration of math and science led the self-taught Leonardo into using perspective and then new structure (the triangle form) which led to the depiction of natural, active and engaged subjects. It also led Brunelleschi to engineer the fantastic domes of Rome and Florence. Leonardo's philosophy that the artist had power to create whatever he had the ability to imagine, and Michelangelo's idea that the form existed within the piece of stone and the artist had power to take away the dross to reveal the perfect, divine essence. For me, this enhanced the spirituality, even if it took away power from the church.
Friday Morning
I'd hoped to alternate between writing blogs and posting pictures on Facebook. So far, the Facebook posts and pictures have been lots easier and frequent, and hence I've neglected the writing. Part is this electronic medium, which tends to throw off/delete what I've written without warning (The gods of computing are not always with me.) even though there's an "automatic save" at the bottom of the page. So be it.
Second excuse for not writing is that what seem at the time to be the most profound and coherent thoughts come to me when I'm in bed, trying to sleep, or having woken up in the wee hours (the hour of the wolf). No way am I going to get up and sit at the computer when I could be churning thoughts under a cozy down comforter. So my blog readers must be content with the more mundane and consciously formed thoughts of mid-morning, after coffee typing.
Today it's raining again, and there's hasn't been heat in my apartment since day before yesterday. The agency I rented from must contact the owner who must then contact the building supervisor since heat (from hot water radiators) is regulated for the whole building. I get the feeling that in Italy some things tke more time than they should, while other things get done before you know it.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
THE DAVID ... he's so fine!
7:30 p.m. Walked home tonight after a lecture at the B.I. from a film maker who's doing a documentary on the life of Alice Walker.
Feeling a little like Juliet of the Spirits as I walk rather fast in the rainy dark, with my Asian umbrella above my head, glancing at people quickly/a little, getting impressions of the Italian chic, the Italian unique, the young men with semi shaven jaw, thin hips and long legs; a dark haired woman with black eyes glancing at me over a man's shoulder as I walk by; a grey haired man walking too slow in front of me, so that I cross the street and see a young man walking even slower in front of him; they both cross the street after me and I wonder ... the shine of the Arno and a dark passage that I've never taken which leads me out just at the Uffizi collonade.
Maybe it's just the right mixture of espresso and wine that makes me feel the excitement of Italy. Two espressos, one glass of wine this afternoon ... not much... Maybe it was the exquisite visit to the Accademia Gallery where Frank Nero gave an amazing lecture about Michaelangelo's David.
This morning thunder, lightening and hail had me staying in til noon. Ventured out to the Casa Buonarotti where I was treated to two of M's first works ... an exquisite bas relief of Madonna and child (Madonna of the Steps), and a sensuous full relief called The Battle of of Greeks and Centaurs. A friendly docent loved telling me some of the stories I'd already heard from our lecturers, made much better because they were told with an Italian accent.
Then a walk the long way round to the Accademia, a pick-me-up espresso at a friendly bar and meeting first Debra, friendly fellow student from Australia, and then the rest of our class. I'll write up the notes of the talk later ... just let me say that in the long room with the Michelangelos one first sees the unfinished sculptures Bearded Prisoner/Slave and Awakening Prisoner, intended for Pope Julius II's tomb . In them you can see the process--the figures not quite free; the marks of the single fork chisel and the triple fork chisel, and even M's fingerprints on the marble.
At the end of the room stands the statue of The David, as he's always referred to, breathtaking. The facts are well known: he's 17 feet tall, carved of one piece of marble (unlike most, even smaller, sculptures which are pieced together after they're finished) and he truly exemplifies Michelangelo's aim to pull the soul out of a piece of stone, not by creating the form, but by releasing the form from the stone it's in. Hard not to rhapsodize a little, and Frank, though American, has the personality and passion for it.
Feeling a little like Juliet of the Spirits as I walk rather fast in the rainy dark, with my Asian umbrella above my head, glancing at people quickly/a little, getting impressions of the Italian chic, the Italian unique, the young men with semi shaven jaw, thin hips and long legs; a dark haired woman with black eyes glancing at me over a man's shoulder as I walk by; a grey haired man walking too slow in front of me, so that I cross the street and see a young man walking even slower in front of him; they both cross the street after me and I wonder ... the shine of the Arno and a dark passage that I've never taken which leads me out just at the Uffizi collonade.
Maybe it's just the right mixture of espresso and wine that makes me feel the excitement of Italy. Two espressos, one glass of wine this afternoon ... not much... Maybe it was the exquisite visit to the Accademia Gallery where Frank Nero gave an amazing lecture about Michaelangelo's David.
This morning thunder, lightening and hail had me staying in til noon. Ventured out to the Casa Buonarotti where I was treated to two of M's first works ... an exquisite bas relief of Madonna and child (Madonna of the Steps), and a sensuous full relief called The Battle of of Greeks and Centaurs. A friendly docent loved telling me some of the stories I'd already heard from our lecturers, made much better because they were told with an Italian accent.
Then a walk the long way round to the Accademia, a pick-me-up espresso at a friendly bar and meeting first Debra, friendly fellow student from Australia, and then the rest of our class. I'll write up the notes of the talk later ... just let me say that in the long room with the Michelangelos one first sees the unfinished sculptures Bearded Prisoner/Slave and Awakening Prisoner, intended for Pope Julius II's tomb . In them you can see the process--the figures not quite free; the marks of the single fork chisel and the triple fork chisel, and even M's fingerprints on the marble.
At the end of the room stands the statue of The David, as he's always referred to, breathtaking. The facts are well known: he's 17 feet tall, carved of one piece of marble (unlike most, even smaller, sculptures which are pieced together after they're finished) and he truly exemplifies Michelangelo's aim to pull the soul out of a piece of stone, not by creating the form, but by releasing the form from the stone it's in. Hard not to rhapsodize a little, and Frank, though American, has the personality and passion for it.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Rain
10 a.m. Second try on this blog. Something I hit on this tiny computer seems to knock everything out ... and the 'automatic' save isn't worth a damn. But I don't give up easily so will try again.
The rain was heavy yesterday morning (like today) but let up around noon so I got out and headed for the Mercado Centrale, near the train station. The walk took me through the higher end antiques area and upper end hotels. The centrale is so small that everything is within walking distance, so neighborhoods are not all that distinct.
Looks like it will be easy to take either a bus or a train to Siena ... one or the other leaves every 30 minutes or so and the 2 stations are next to each other. I've been advised that bus is easier. If it's sunny on Friday I'll spend the day there (or two).
The Central Market is mostly tourist stuff. Leather belts and jackets, silk (?) scarves and trinkets. So far I've resisted ANY buying of items I'll have to carry home, but a wooden Pinocchio for Noah and a gift for the soon to be born babe are in order. Not yet.
Inside the market was a lot more interesting, although the door I entered put me face to face with dead animal parts that I wouldn't want to touch, let alone eat. Ghoulish shade of white intestines, stomach, ears and whatever reminded me that I didn't intend to eat Florence's trademark dish, tripe stew. The shops with olive oil and vinegar beckoned and I found an airport size (according to the clerk) bottle of 47 year old balsamic vinegar for only 45 euros. No thank you. The cheeses, truffles, breads and multi colored and multi shaped pastas were a lot more attractive.
Still, I left without buying and headed to the gelato store for a pick me up before class. Rome is still the winner, hands down, for gelato with the chocolate chip delight, but chioccarancia (chocolate with bits of orange ) and cafe mixture was pretty close!
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Sunday museums and rain
Love walking around this city. Everything is different, so everything is compelling to look at. Doorways, grafitti, walls, pavement, bridges ... and on top of that there's the sculpture.
Just back in time as it's pouring out now. It's Sunday and museums are closed tomorrow so I took the opportunity to go to the two closest to my apartment ... Museo di Galileo and Museo Bargello. The first full of scientific treatsures from the first navigation instruments, to Galileo's telescope to machines first used to demonstrate electriticity. Beautiful workmanship and I kept thinking that Dad would have loved to see this stuff. Maybe his old slide rule will someday make its way into a museum?
The Bargello is Florence's sculpture museum and I only saw about 1/2 of it. Donatello seems to be my favorite sculptor after Michelangelo. Just wanted to get that on the record.
Lunch at the Sun Cafe, which is near my piazza. Decided that I need to eat one meal out at some kind of restaurant, even if it's just a snack. Gives me the chance to taste the cuisine, and to get some kind of balance. Cooking here is good ... I'm eating well ... but even a bruscetta with loads of tomatoes and tuna tastes good if someone else makes it for me. Expensive, though. The cappucino was almost $5.00!
Walking back to the apartment, I decided to check out the ornate building I saw from across the river yesterday. It's the Florence Municipal Library and I will come back when it's open and hopefully be able to get in. Rain started coming down in earnest as I turned around. I'm getting good at finding the best way back home and , though my sandals are soaked, the apt is nice and cozy warm as I listen to the rain and watchthe leaves on my plane tree quiver and fall.
Just back in time as it's pouring out now. It's Sunday and museums are closed tomorrow so I took the opportunity to go to the two closest to my apartment ... Museo di Galileo and Museo Bargello. The first full of scientific treatsures from the first navigation instruments, to Galileo's telescope to machines first used to demonstrate electriticity. Beautiful workmanship and I kept thinking that Dad would have loved to see this stuff. Maybe his old slide rule will someday make its way into a museum?
The Bargello is Florence's sculpture museum and I only saw about 1/2 of it. Donatello seems to be my favorite sculptor after Michelangelo. Just wanted to get that on the record.
Lunch at the Sun Cafe, which is near my piazza. Decided that I need to eat one meal out at some kind of restaurant, even if it's just a snack. Gives me the chance to taste the cuisine, and to get some kind of balance. Cooking here is good ... I'm eating well ... but even a bruscetta with loads of tomatoes and tuna tastes good if someone else makes it for me. Expensive, though. The cappucino was almost $5.00!
Walking back to the apartment, I decided to check out the ornate building I saw from across the river yesterday. It's the Florence Municipal Library and I will come back when it's open and hopefully be able to get in. Rain started coming down in earnest as I turned around. I'm getting good at finding the best way back home and , though my sandals are soaked, the apt is nice and cozy warm as I listen to the rain and watchthe leaves on my plane tree quiver and fall.
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