26 September 2009 - Detritus

I get up relatively early and head to breakfast.  No one is talking much; not like last time when people seemed to relate more.  So I study my maps and determine where to go and what to do.  Since San Marco, the Dominican monastery of Savonarola, Fra Angelico, Fra  Bartolomeo and so many others, was just down the street, I decided to start there.  The entrance is free - yes!  At the top of the steps I encounter the Annunciation by Fra Angelico - and I must stop and have a moment of reflection.  Then as I make my way past each of the cells, I see that each one has a painting for reflection.  At the end of the corridor and around the corner I come to Savonarola's cell - part saint, all martyr, part national hero.  Several years ago I read "Fire in the City" http://www.librarything.com/catalog/Hillerm&deepsearch=Fire+in+the+city

a good history of the period and of his own ministry, theology, and downfall.  There are relics, crucifix, hairshirts, part of a garment and a cloak.  What might have been thrown away now becomes something precious.  (Later in the main church, Saint Anthony, former bishop of Florence, and monk at San Marco, is seen laid out in full episcopal splendor, mouldering below the altar.

The tie between politics, or should I say republican politics, and ascetic life was something that I had not anticipated.  Of course one sees all kind of religious reflections of d'Medici glory, but I am talking about something totally different - which is what the good monk was doing as well.  He, however, became fuel for the fires of fear and tyranny.  Of interest in this regard is an unfinished painting by Fra Bartolomeo called the Signoria Altarpiece, commissioned by republican Florence.  In the painting, the patron saints of Florence are having a consultation with the Virgin, a sort of divine democracy in action.  Most interesting is the figure that appears above the Virgin, and the putti.  It is a head with three faces - each distinct.  Is this the Trinity in its own conversation?  There is another work by Fra Bartolomeo that is striking as well.  It is a portrait of St. John the Baptist, a dreamy John the Baptist, youthful, attractive, relaxed - no ax to the root here.

Something else struck me at San Marco, as it did at the Uffizi, and later at the Bargello.  It is the ceilings. They are not covered over, but one is allowed to see the trusses and underside of the shingling.  They are beautiful, economical, and probably cold.

Buildings shed.  I first encountered this the last time I was in Florence and climbed the steps up to the cupola of the Duomo.  In the rooms that surround the dome are the leavings of the cathedral: balustrades, consoles, cornices, columns, statues, medallions, and so on, all resting from their labors.  So it is in the ledge room of the monastery, with the detritus of church and convent all stacked up for all to see, a sort-of architectural charnel house.

The church itself is a bit of a disappointment, although there is one work there that is somewhat remarkable.  It's a mosaic of of the BVM, but is modeled after a mosaic of Theodora (?), the wife of Justinian, in one of the churches below San Clemente in Rome.  She, along with her sister full of swords over at La Santissima served to spur my own insight on the aspects of Mary that I shared in yesterday's post.  (It's interesting how memories can become conflated).

It's so close, so I go over to La Santissima.  What is still remarkable about this church (Nave with 2 Transepts) is the choir which is a tribune, a circle - and a baroque circle at that.  There is a mass starting, so I need to leave.  I don't want to be like those pesky tourists who constantly circle the sacred mysteries at Notre Dame in Paris.  Besides, nothing is engaging me here.  So I walk out into the bright sunshine, and cross the Piazza della Santissima Annunciata to have a Coke Light, which is beginning to not taste as good as I remember it.  The piazza is framed on one side by the church, and flanked by the backside (still a lovely portico) of the Gallaria dell' Accademia (which I will visit on Wednesday) and the Spedale degli Innocenti with its own wonderful portico.  In the balconies of the academy, situated under the portico there, people have added potted plants, and above it is a varied roofline.  The unity sought by the architects is blurred over time by the people using the buildings.  This would have never survived the committee of a gated community in Blackwood, California!

I walk to San Lorenzo, but it is crowded so I decide to not go in.  I cannot resist, however, the Capelle Medicee. I shall never forget the over-powering emotion I felt when I first entered this room.  It was, as the current exhibition is called, tutta maiestati.  Sometimes in the 90s, however, a cornice came crashing down from the baroque dome, and since that time the space has been filled with scaffolding and temporary barriers.  Most of the massive statuary is in restauro and thus the room has lost its power.  One interesting note is that the altar, which dominates the east end, is temporary (who knew) and has been such since the eighteenth century.   Originally commissioned to include elaborate inlaid stonework, the temporary altar was only made to simulate such work in order to convince a jury as to its merit.  Now, the powers that be have located a voting station so that visitors can vote on whether to complete the project as originally intended, do something new, leave the "temporary piece", and so on.  It was so mind-boggling that I couldn't vote.

The Sacristy at San Lorenzo is always stunning.  The power of Michelangelo's sculptures are so powerful and the classicism of the room is so refreshing that it is almost a necessary thing after the excesses of the Capelle.  I descend to the ground floor, which houses the tombs of the Medici.  This is not like Kapuzinerkirche in Vienna with all of its Habsburg tombs, each screaming for attention.  For the Medici, those are upstairs, and they scream louder than almost anything.  Down here, however, it is simplicity, with simple plaques placed on the floor.  Most are honored, excepting those under exhibition articles (ostensibly honoring the person below) or those in the gift shop.  Something tells me the Medici would understand - at least the gift shop.

It's time to go find the American Episcopal Church in Florence.  The last time that I was here, I went to the CofE church in Oltrarno, and it was sherry nice.  This time, however, I've decided to see what my own church has done.  It's beyond Santa Maria Novelle, whose piazza, by the way, has been nicely redone.  Gone is the field of weeds and grass gone wild, replaced with modern seating, and lawns that are actually welcoming.  The portico that faces it is still being restored.

The church is so typical.  A bit of England dropped down in this city of stucco and stone.  I can't wait to go inside.

I drop by Il Sostanza but it is "no credit card" so I will do that another day.

I have lunch on Piazza della Republica, dominated on one side by some nineteenth century public work.  I suppose it's like going to Fisherman's Wharf to have lunch, but hey, it's relatively inexpensive, and I can look at people.  I have a risotto al funghi, which is interestingly tomato-based.  Hmmmm.  I drink to half liters of water.