David vs. Bacchus

May 12

We can hear the bells of the Campanile from the hotel. So Tuesday morning we were reminded right off where we were.

One of the art collections recommended by Rick Steves in his book on Florence is the Bargello, so called because its many roles over the years included some time as a police station. Now it is a national museum that houses a collection of great sculpture.

We passed through the Duomo Square to get to the Bargello, and they were feeding the carriage horses in the plaza. 

The Bargello has a room with at least four representations of Bacchus, including one by Michelangelo that is clearly in the bag. He is having trouble with focus and his knees are ready to give out. Now I know why I was feeling so good a couple of nights ago. I was in a divine state.

There’s more upstairs. You get there by climbing a staircase up a decorated wall in the courtyard.

The room above has three Davids, two by Donatello done about 20 years apart and one by Andrea del Verrocchio, that is the newest of the three, about 1470.

The del Verrocchio is a kid in a short kilt who looks like he’s about to dance around Goliath’s head.

The early Donatello has the kind of serene face of Classical statuary. He is dressed sort of like a knight, which gives him a medieval touch. Without a caption, I’d have taken him for St. George. This one is dated 1408.

The later Donatello, about 1430, is a strangely androgynous figure. It’s the body of a slender young woman wearing nothing but a party hat and boots, only it has male sex parts. According to the guide book there is speculation, partly based on this statue, that the reason Donatello never married is that he was homosexual.

In the same room with the Davids is a very interesting John the Baptist, a marble with a bronze halo. I was taking a breather in a small chair and looked up and there he was, backed by the groine vaults of the Gothic ceiling.

It is a 16th century piece by someone whose name I don’t know, Francesco Da Sangallo. I’m not sure, but that name may translate as Francis of the Holy Rooster. But don’t quote me on that.

Next to the Bargello is the Piazza San Firenze, which includes a church dedicated to Philip Neri. The porch of the church was full of painters doing studies of a bell tower. Very picturesque indeed. This whole part of town is picturesque.

I checked the map and found that the Bargello is maybe a hundred yards from the Piazza della Signioria. Along with the Duomo, that is a must-see in Firenze: the Palazzo Vecchio, Michelangelo’s David, Cellini’s Perseus, the Rape of the Sabine Women, the spot where Savonarola was hanged and burned. Wow, all in one city block.

The loggia of the Palazzo Vecchio is a porch across the street from the palace itself. That’s where a lot of the statues are, including several Roman originals. The Rape of the Sabine Women represents a story from the legends of early Rome.

The city was short of women, so the guys had a party for the Sabines, a neighboring tribe. When the time was right, the Romans beat up the Sabine men, picked up the Sabine women, and carried them back to Rome. There was probably no natural disaster in the old days worse than sharing the Italian peninsula with the Romans.

It is by a master called Giambologna, who was a rival of Michelangelo. It is a spiraling group that looks at a distance remarkably like Bernini’s Pluto and Proserpina in the Borghese. On closer inspection, though, it isn’t a squat bearded Pluto but a handsome young Roman holding the struggling naked lady. He is standing over a beaten man who lies at the feet of the upright pair. But there is the same whirlwind of lust and despair, with an added element of grief.

Outside the loggia in front of the Uffizi, someone dressed as Death was posing for photos with tourists.

Michelangelo’s David is maybe 15, maybe 60 feet tall and stands in front of the palazzo. He is kind of cool, if only for his monumental stature, but really now, he isn’t doing much of anything. After about a half dozen Davids, my favorite is Cellini’s. You really know he’s getting ready to let loose a rock.

The plaque for Savonarola is in not quite the middle of the square. Not far from the palace. I couldn’t get all of the inscription, but I knew before-hand what its significance was.

Savonarola chased out the Medici and began a religious revival in Florence. I forget which order of monks he belonged to. It wasn’t the Taliban, but pretty close. They held bonfires into which citizens were expected to throw non-religious paintings and books. This is where the term “bonfire of the vanities “ comes from.

When the people got tired of it, they (with the help of others who were threatened by Savonarola) stormed the monastery and arrested him. He was convicted and then hanged in the square where his body was burned. 

We stepped into the Palazzo and stood in the atrium, which is open to the sky and under renovation. The walls have frescoes showing views of other European cities. 

The Uffizi is right next to the palace and that leads to the Arno and the Ponte Vecchio. We crossed over there, looking at the often garish jewelry in the store windows. The security grates are heavy hinged shutters that could be a design that dates back to the Renaissance. 

That’s when the Medici started to use the bridge to get from the Pitti Palace to the Palazzo Vecchio. The bridge before then had housed butcher shops, but because of the smell, they were ordered out and jewelers moved in. Their commercial descendants are still there. 

The breeze was blowing pretty stiff and so the picture of the day is “Joanna Holds Her Hat (or Gets Arrested) by the Ponte Vecchio.” 

We strolled over as far as the Pitti Palace and on the way back stopped at a trattoria for some caprese salad and pizza Margherita, which I had with a blah house red. 

Everything seems to be a picture here. I looked up a side street near the river and there was a tower of some kind framed by the buildings and the mountains formed the horizon. I tried to get it.

We took a few alleys and discovered something strange on a high wall. It is a bit of public sculpture, the stick figure of a man balancing on something that looks like the bow of a canoe that sticks out from the wall. There are smaller men balanced on him.

On the way back, when we crossed the Piazza della Signoria there was a little girl on her hands and knees playing on the Savonarola plaque.

We stopped at Orsanmichele, a church that used to be a granary. According to a sign outside, there building held an image of the Virgin that was venerated, so it was taken over and repurposed as a church.

It has a strange feel because of its double nave. One goes up to an ornate Gothic altar and tabernacle, which literally fills available space. The halo of the angel on top touches the groines of the Gothic vault.

There is another altar next to it, on the other side of the central row of columns. The columns against one wall still have the chutes where grain was dispensed in the old days.

On the way to the hotel, we took a detour to check a large arch. It was the Piazza della Repubblica, which appears to be the high-rent district. We were there in the dark the night before, but I didn’t recognize it. 

After a rest at the hotel, we went out for another walk. The lines were short at the Duomo, so we went through it again. Most of it is blocked off, and there isn’t much to see inside except the dome and the fantastic mosaic floor.

There is a painting of Dante on one wall, showing him with Purgatory in the the background and maybe heaven above him. Maybe if I read medieval Italian I’d feel differently. But I have to say that Dante is boring. All he does in the Divina Commedia is regurgitate common church teaching about punishment and reward and send people he doesn’t like to hell. 

That’s why there are so many foot notes. All these people are insignificant to us, but boy, Dante had a hardon against a lot of them.

We walked around the neighborhood to build up an appetite and went to Terra Terra very near the hotel. We had a great seafood sauce over spaghetti and followed that with sheep steak and potatoes. Both were terrific. I have never had sheep before—lamb yes, but not mutton. I think I like the sheep better.

The Chianti here is the best I’ve ever had. I had three glasses with dinner. Joanna took a few sips, but they probably added up to about a third to half a glass. So she was loaded.

We walked a little more and then came back to the hotel. We stopped in a little place for dessert—biscotti with a glass of sweet wine. I also ordered Sambuca.

Great way to finish.

Good night to all.

May 14

Enjoying Tuscany, I see. Another excellent report!

Mutton in Florence? Sounds good if not very Tuscan. 

And I would hope you would find the "maybe best Chianti I ever had" there: it is the home of Chianti. The sweet wine you had with your biscotti was probably a Vin Santo (Saint's Wine), a Tuscan specialty made from dried white grapes. 

Some other culinary tips:

Bisteca Fiorientina, preferably from Chianini cattle (if you can find it). It's often served with white beans and, of course, Chianti.

Bruschetta, which literally means toast. In the U.S., it's usually topped with chopped tomatoes, but over there, it could be anything, but always with the excellent local olive oil. I remember one cafe had a whole menu of bruschetta with different toppings. Maybe you can ask at the place at your hotel. Also be on the look out for crostini, toast topped with chopped chicken livers. Better than it sounds.

Roast pork with rosemary — self explanatory, but can be quite good.

And if you have time, try to get to the big central market for a sandwich at Bollito. Boiled meat never tasted so good!

Enjoy!

Larry

May 14

Thanks for the tips.

By the way, the place last night was partly Sardinian. The seafood pasta and sheep steak were on the Sardinian menu. It also had other stuff that sounded intriguing: pasta with dried fish egg sauce and beefsteak with anchovy sauce.

 Another place was offering vegetable soup served over toasted bread. 

May 14

Indeed, Sardinian. Sheep is very Sardinian.

By the way, I'm booking my flights to the U.S. — can you believe it!

I know you have more important things on your mind now, but I'm thinking of landing in Newark, and returning via Kennedy, as I wouldn't expect you to drive me to the airport on a weekday night.

Things here [ed note: Provence] are great. I wish I didn't have to bail on Europe so soon. Lots of cooking, and buying too much wine, as usual.

Cherries are now in season, and I've been picking from one huge tree — totally organic, no pesticides or fertilizers of any kind. You can't imagine how many cherries can come off of one tree — but then, you lived in the country as a boy, so you probably know more about this than me. Next week, the white cherries, located in another vineyard should be ready.  

Continue having a great time and say hello to Joanna for me.

Larry

Mary 14

Dear Harry and Joanna,

Now your know why Alan and I love Firenze!

On one visit we watched the restoration of the Donatello David with the hat. It was fascinating. David was lying down while artists were working on his knee. We were alone in watching.

The Medici! Aah, the Medici, but my heart is with the golden Medici, the Quattro Cento Medici—or going back to Salvestre, who sided with the  Ciompi, won, then were forced into exile (in Venezia) for 100 years. Cosimo, Piero, Lorenzo il magnifico! My Medici.

Alan and I are members of the Medici Archive Project but it deals with the silver Medici and we keep pressing for the above named.

Beatrice