7 Jun 2014

Florence

by Scott Johnson | posted in: Adventures, Reflections | 0

I am about to verge on blasphemy here: I thought that the Chapel of the Princes at the Medici Chapel was more impressive than the Sistine Chapel at the Vatican.

Both feature paintings that tell stories of early Christianity, but the Medici’s dome, the second-largest in Florence, is just more … impressive. Let’s face it: The Medicis make Jay Gatsby look like a bum. Their chapel and basilica were built more for self-adulation than as an homage to God. The family’s impact is apparent everywhere in Florence and throughout Italy. And we were there to seek it out.

Copy of David — This statue of David, a copy of the original, is in Piazza della Signoria outside the Palazza Vecchio.

We each bought a Firenze Pass, which costs a lot up front (72 euros) but means you can drop into pretty much any place of significance over three days without worrying about paying admission, so you’ll check out locations you otherwise wouldn’t have (like the Medici Chapel). You also get to skip the lines, some of them very long, and move to the front as if you have a reservation. If you can spend three days in Florence, I recommend it. We hit about 10 sites in two days, and they do start blurring together and losing their impact. I lost count of how many painted ceilings we saw. Another day would have been nice, even though two of the sites we were hoping to see – the Duomo museum and the photography museum – were completely closed for renovation. (Plus, you get a sweet lanyard with your Firenze Pass, and many people wear it all day, begging to be singled out as a tourist.)

Some things I learned during our jam-packed, self-guided trek:

Tour groups should be limited to 10 people.
Any gallery or church worth seeing requires a climb of at least one flight of stairs, but usually three or four.
Any gallery or church worth seeing has scaffolding up and is undergoing renovation, meaning you won’t see everything you expect to see.
There’s no such thing as too many crucifixes in one room, nonetheless at one site.
There’s no such thing as too many Madonnas holding baby in one room, nonetheless at one site.

To say the least, one of the great impacts of the Renaissance was that artists broadened their source material. I admit that I have zero understanding of what makes art “good” or “important.” For instance, one site happened to have works by Jackson Pollack in a special exhibit. I don’t know why his works hang in a museum instead of someone else’s. I’m more interested in art’s impact from a broader, historic perspective, though I can appreciate certain works that stand out to me.

A museum usher — An Uffizi usher hard at work. I could have had dozens of photos just like this one.

It turns out that the ushers at the Vatican were not an anomaly. Being a guard or usher at a museum or church in Italy has to be the easiest job on the planet. Had I pieced it together sooner, I would have started an “Ushers of Italian Museums” meme, featuring folks sitting down and studying their phones or books while supposedly on the clock. Of course, you’re not supposed to take photos at many museums, so some of the workers would have been safe from me. Still, the question of photography at museums and churches is very much up in the air. At the Uffizi, there are signs that say photography is not allowed, but in the Botticelli Room, looking at The Birth of Venus, we were surrounded by tourists taking pictures and posing in front of the painting. One Italian patron even started telling people “no photo,” then went to the two ushers who were sitting in the middle of the room. They said that photos were OK without using a flash, but the three of them went on to have a 20-minute conversation about it that included phone calls to, I presume, security central. At the Medici Chapel, I asked if photography was allowed. The usher said she didn’t know (she didn’t know!), so it would be OK for me to take a picture.

In the Uffizi, someone briefly set off an alarm for getting too close to something; the usher did not even look up from her book. They don’t even smile. One happened to look up at me as we passed through her door, and I got zero response when I said “ciao” to her.

There was, however, one usher at the Uffizi who was all over it. She told me to make sure to keep my camera in front of me so that it would not get stolen. As if I wouldn’t notice being relieved of a 5-pound camera that’s hanging from my neck. And as if one of the cameras hanging from every wall of the building would not catch the perpetrator, who had to pay admission to get in.

So I’m about ready to pack up and move to Italy and get one of these jobs. You seemingly don’t even need to know Italian, since no one ever wants to ask you a question because you look completely disinterested and like you wouldn’t know anything anyway. Perhaps there’s just a cultural difference that I don’t understand. When I visited the Oregon Historical Society a few months ago, the security guard was not only helping give direction but also was providing insight about what was hanging from the walls. He was an ambassador for the museum. If the Italians are volunteers, please let me know. But they all have badges, which leads me to believe they are employed or organized by someone.

I’m not even annoyed by the ushers. I just find them incredibly amusing – probably too much so.

Oh, yes, there was art, too. We started our marathon at the Accademia, and got there just as it was opening. There was already a line that stretched blocks, and even a line for those with reservation. Thanks to our pass, we only waited about 15 minutes. I have no idea if the poor souls in the non-reservation line ever got in. The highlight of the Accademia is Michelangelo’s David, probably the most well-known sculpture in history. I did not expect to be impressed by David, but it truly is stunning. He’s shown off under a dome that was built with the sole intention of showing him off. The sculpture is much larger than I thought. It also helps that Michelangelo’s four unfinished Prisoners line the path leading to David. But other than that, the Accademia really doesn’t offer much aside from some paintings and a lot of plaster models. David, however, is worth the price of admission.

Telescopes at the Galileo Museum — There were plenty of telescopes and other scientific instruments on display at the Galileo Museum.

Another highlight was the Galileo Museum. Not only was it interesting – focusing on scientific progress and innovation as a whole, not just Galileo’s contributions – but it also was different than everything else we saw. Instead of art, scientific tools were on display, including telescopes, globes, barometers, electromagnetic tubes and much more (you can also see Galileo’s middle finger). The museum is next door to the exit at the Uffizi, so there’s no reason to skip it.

Even the museum of science is practically a tribute to the Medicis, who are the common thread throughout Florence. Without their patronage, Michelangelo and Galileo probably would not be remembered today, and the Renaissance itself might never have existed. So they deserved their own chapel.

Dome of the Chapel of the Princes — Paintings in the dome of the Chapel of the Princes tell the stories of early Christianity.

Arno River in Florence — The bridges that cross the Arno River are popular locations to take in a sunset.

4 Jun 2014

Manarola

by Scott Johnson | posted in: Adventures, Reflections | 1

Now this is Italy. At least the Italy that’s romanticised in best-selling novels and movies starring Diane Lane.

A room with a view — Our apartment in Manarola came with a decent view.

Welcome to Manarola, a tiny town clinging from the cliffs above the Mediterranean Sea. It’s one of the five villages that make up the region known as the Cinque Terre, famous for its spectacular shoreline and the trail that hugs it. Unfortunately for us, only one section of the 7-mile trail that links the five towns was open for hiking, so we made the most of what Manarola had to offer.

Yes, there are crowds, but these crowds come in waves. Generally within five minutes of a train. Here, two cars (primarily delivery or garbage trucks) create a traffic jam on the one hilly, winding road that’s not open to the public. Below our apartment, the same group of four or five people recalled the day at the same two benches every afternoon, shielded from the sun by umbrellas.

Outside of working in a restaurant, a store or a garden, I’m not sure how people here make a living. Maybe they don’t. Most of the people strolling the street looked like us. Like newcomers looking for a sunny escape. And we all apparently looked like we wanted to hear Pharrell on repeat, either from a party boat or one of the local bars. Yes, we were all “Happy” to be there.

Pesto pizza — The Liguria region is the birthplace of pesto.

Although most of the coastal trails were closed, the same wasn’t true for that led up. A number of paths crisscross the hills and meander their way through the vineyards to other villages, both along the coast and above.

“Above” is the key word. There was nowhere to go but up. Up past the cemetery. And beyond the Jesus statue. Hundreds of steps later, you pop out at Volastra, another tiny spot out of a story book. Stroll west to find a handful of family homes perched with a garden and ocean views. And then, maybe two minutes later, you’re through what appeared to be someone’s backyard and at the top of a hill with tiers of vineyards plunging down to the Mediterranean. Manarola to the left, Corniglia to the right.

It might just be the best view that Italy has to offer.

Vineyards above Manarola — Grapes grow on the cliffs high above Manarola and the Mediterranean.

Sign at Manarola train station — The Manarola sign at the train station has been worn down.

Cinque Terre trail — The coastal trail between Manarola and Corniglia clings to the cliffs, but was closed.

Small-town Italy — Flowers drape near the entrance to a house above the Mediterranean.

1 Jun 2014

The Vatican

by Scott Johnson | posted in: Adventures, Reflections | 0

St. Peter's Basilica — The ceiling and part of the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica.

Although you can breeze right into Rome, the same isn’t generally the case for the major attractions within Vatican City. And everything in Vatican City is a major attraction. Although you can pay your way to the front of the line (a fact that is made clear to you, oh, about every five steps you take), that doesn’t mean you get to bypass the herds of people once through the door.

Still, if you’re in Italy, you would be foolish to not visit St. Peter’s Basilica and the Vatican Museum, which houses the Sistine Chapel. We arrived at St. Peter’s Square fairly early, about 8:30, and were immediately accosted by offers to skip the line by signing up with a tour guide. We nodded to the security checkpoint and pointed out that there was no line.

The sheer magnitude of everything in Vatican City is perhaps what’s most impressive — it’s immense and immaculate, yet every detail is intricate. Entering St. Peter’s Basilica, we saw that an area in the middle was blocked off, but thought it was just for cleaning. But as we made our way forward, the north aisle was closed, and then no one could get to the front, so we couldn’t get up to the nave or look up at much of the massive dome. Turns out some guy named “the pope” was giving a Mass that evening, and they were actually closing the church to visitors midday. That would also explain all the chairs set up in the square. Though we didn’t get to fully experience the church, it was as amazing as you would expect. I don’t think anyone could leave disappointed. Good thing we arrived early.

We did stay in the basilica long enough for a large line to form outside the Vatican Museum. The type of line where you can’t see the end. The wait was slightly longer than an hour, which felt pretty short compared with the 45-minute wait for a slice of pizza in the cafeteria. The thing about this museum is there’s just so much to see, and I don’t know anything about art. You start with some ancient Egyptian and Roman artifacts, which are worth your time. But everyone is there for the Raphael Rooms and the Sistine Chapel, so the huge tapestries and maps that line the great hallway to the end just get ignored. Eyes on the prize.

One of the Raphael Rooms in the Vatican Museum.

The best job in all of Rome has to be as a security guard at the Vatican Museum. First, I assume that they get to walk the halls of the massive complex either before or after visitors are allowed entry. Second, they don’t seem to have to do much beyond sitting in a chair, disinterested in anything other than their phones. One of the very clear rules of the Vatican is that you are not supposed to wear shorts. There were tons of people wearing shorts, and not a word was said to any of them. Sure, a few of the unlucky ones have to monitor the Sistine Chapel and “Shhh!” the crowd every five minutes, but I’m sure they rotate back to regular shift every few days. Until then, they are “stuck” in the air-conditioned room that houses what’s widely considered the most impressive piece of artwork ever created. It’s pretty rough.

Still, as I stood directly underneath the famous image of God sparking life into Adam, I couldn’t grasp the story that the rest of the room told, particularly when surrounded as many people as can be stuffed into the giant chapel. A Rick Steves audio tour came to the rescue, but when he mentioned that Michelangelo painted himself into a very small portion of The Last Judgment, it was frustrating to know that you would never really be able to see it because you are constantly told to keep walking past the altar. You can linger in the middle of the chapel, but when you’ve had your fill, it’s a near-suffocating squeeze out through the exit.

In the end, the museum is hard not to appreciate, yet at the same time incredibly difficult to appreciate.

The following day, we were fortunate to have lunch with Andy and Caitlin, who have been living in Rome for the past couple years but will return to Oregon this summer. Despite the gorgeous sun in the morning, Andy mentioned that rain was forecast for the afternoon, and Caitlin let us know that if we got stuck in it, all the street vendors would miraculously turn up with umbrellas for sale. They are nothing if not entrepreneurial.

The Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi is in the center of Piazza Navona.

Since we were out, we had our eyes on three free destinations to see that afternoon before we left Rome: the Pantheon, Piazza Navona and the Trevi Fountain. The Pantheon is in remarkable shape for a building that’s 2,000 years old, and is worth visiting even with no knowledge of its history. In Piazza Navona, street merchants were carrying armloads of umbrellas as dark clouds crept closer. The Trevi, which is what I most looked forward to seeing in Rome, was overloaded with people when we strolled by. I guess I should have visited in the morning. We didn’t have time to linger anyway. The rains really were coming, so we had to delay our gelato plans in order to beat the showers to our hotel. We made it just in time, no umbrella needed.

To summarize, there are a lot of people in Rome. And there are great reasons why. But here’s one travel tip for you: Arrive or leave on a Sunday morning. The streets are nearly empty.