Wednesday, September 4th | 2024 | Day 7
Today was at leisure as far as tour activities. I had language class at two but there was plenty of time to venture out. After missing the Accademia the day before, I spent some time researching online before deciding to buy a Firenze Card.
For 85€, it included skip the line entry at over seventy-two museums and was valid for three days from the first time it was scanned for entry, not from the time of purchase. So, if you bought it in the afternoon but it wasn’t scanned until the next day, the seventy-two hours would start from there. After those three days, a forty-eight hour “restart” was included at no extra cost and could be activated anytime within the following twelve months. It may sound a bit steep at first, but this turned out to be one of the best values considering how quickly fees at each location would add up.
Not to be confused with the Firenze Card, my online search also showed the Florence Pass and the Florence City Pass aka Turbopass, to name only a few. Doing a little bit of homework to find the best fit for your visit and budget is highly recommended. She didn’t refer to any of the passes mentioned here, but our tour director also advised us to exercise caution when purchasing online. I went with the Firenze Card primarily because it was backed by the city government and included the two extra days.
I set off for the tram around ten, then walked to Palazzo Vecchio to pick up my shiny new red card. As it was during the Renaissance, the palazzo remains the seat of city government today. Some may consider it a hassle but having to go pick up the card and show ID was another positive indicator of credibility. After a short wait and being instructed to leave my backpack in one of the 1€ coin operated lockers, I was all set.
Going from the ticketing office to the lockers, an excavation of the ancient Roman theater Palazzo Vecchio now stands on was visible from the pianterreno. It looked sealed off so I thought it was just a portal into the past. I later learned that a subterranean tour is available for a few extra euros. Definitely something for my next visit!
I didn’t get far after securing superfluous belongings before another small exhibit caught my eye. On display was a ring of massive iron keys to the medieval gates. One map showed Florence still ringed by walls with Fortezza da Basso jutting from the West end. In another from the early twentieth century, tracks leading to the Brutalist Santa Maria Novella train station were carved out of the landscape.
A series of thirty-one oil on wood paintings provided glimpses into the alleyways and cramped neighborhoods at the heart of the ancient city that eventually gave way to Piazza della Repubblica. Statuaries of Jesus as the Lamb of God in bronze and a painted terra cotta of Santo Stefano that once adorned the outer walls, had long since taken refuge from the constant barrage of both elements and time.
Like most museums, exhibits are often changed out every few months. I’m not sure if this one was permanent, so you may not see the exact one I did. Regardless, there is always more to see and learn in Florence than one could possibly absorb across multiple lifetimes.
With so much more ahead, I was eager to get to the first floor. Dual staircases designed by Giorgio Vasari lead up to the Salone dei Cinquecento, or Hall of the Five Hundred. The enormous space reaching almost five stories high was lined with frescos depicting the Florentine victory over its primary rival, Pisa. Below scenes of battle, a similar theme was played out in marble. This included two statues left unfinished by Michelangelo as his destiny, determined by commission from Pope Clement VII, turned from Florence to Rome and the Sistine Chapel. Six more by Vincenzo de’ Rossi representing the labors of Hercules were interspersed among the others. It actually seemed rather fitting. At the monumental struggles and tasks laid before it, Florence had risen victorious in both battle and fortune through leadership at the undoubtedly controversial hand of the Medici.
The ornately corbeled ceiling could have been a museum unto itself. Thirty-nine framed panels created by Vasari and his apprentices showed the accomplishments and deeds of Cosimo I de’ Medici, as well as scenes representing the city itself. Though I was tempted to lay on the floor as if gazing up at the stars, I decided it was too early into the trip to risk either ridicule or banishment.
At the far end from where I had entered, there were two huge windows and a platform where Cosimo I received heads of state as well as citizens. Between the windows stood a statue of Pope Leo X with his hand raised in blessing. To the right, another was of Pope Clement VII crowning Charles V, which symbolizes reunification of a fractured Catholic world after years of political and religious upheaval. Leo and Clement were Medici popes after all. These statues would have sent a clear message to the Grand Duke’s audience that his power here on earth also extended into the realm of heaven.
At the opposite end, passageways leading to the second floor beckoned. I had already spent at least forty-five minutes in just one room! On the way out, I stopped for a few minutes to admire Genio della Vittoria—a beautiful, and complete sculpture by Michelangelo.
I could hardly climb the staircases while frescos adorning every inch of vault, arch, doorway, cornice and pendentive called for attention. Themes largely tuned to ancient pasts both Greek and Roman signaled retrospection—a reaching into those pasts for inspiration and guidance towards the future. A celebration of Nature as well as remembrance of the sacred place humanity has within it.
Around every corner on the second floor were rooms sumptuously decorated with ornate woodwork, frescos, and paintings. Once private apartments for Cosimo I, Lorenzo the Magnificent, and priors representing the trade guilds, each was absolutely stunning. In other rooms such as the Hall of Lilies and Audience Chamber, the gilded, corbeled ceilings were works of art in their own right. Bronze sculptures such as Putto con delfino by Verrocchio and Judith and Holofernes by Donatello stood atop Corinthian columns. Additional marble works featured busts of Cosimo and Lorenzo. Several doorways were framed and crested with such richly carved lintels topped with sculpted figures that they closely resembled entryways to Greek or Roman temples. Of course, this was no accident as both of these rooms were meant to receive delegations and dignitaries both near and abroad.
One of the most fascinating rooms was the Stanza della Guardaroba, or map room. Offering a glimpse into the 16th century view of the world, geographical maps were encased in a large wooden “wardrobe” with glass panels. They were surprisingly accurate—especially those of the Italian peninsula, Turkey and British Isles. While people had been sailing and trading throughout the Mediterranean and Europe for over a millennia, the understanding required for the advent of precision instruments was relatively new. Or perhaps, with the discovery and decades long deciphering of the Antikythera device, simply long lost to time and conquest.
Reaching the stairs that led to the tower, I was politely asked for my ticket and handed it over. The scanner flashed red. Apparently my purchase didn’t include the next leg to the top. A bit flustered after climbing all this way, descent back to the ticket office was relatively expedient. I explained my predicament to the same gentleman as before, who was apologetic and said the next group up would be at one. An hour was definitely not enough time to see the tower, grab lunch, and get to class.
He also explained that the tower is a separate museum and I could come back another day since the Firenze Card allows for one admission to each. It never would have occurred to me that a “separate museum” existed within the same building, but all good! Hang loose and go with the flow.
Heading towards the school, All’ Antico was practically around the corner on Piazza San Marco. I have to admit, after seeing YouTube videos ahead of the trip, that for however much I was looking for authentic experiences, I had to try it no matter how touristy. Fortunately, the line hadn’t wrapped around the block yet, even though it was lunchtime. The mortadella, gorgonzola, and sun-dried tomato sandwich topped with pistachio cream was hands-down the best I had in Italy. By the way, I had a lot of sandwiches.
There was still an hour to kill before class so what to do next? Turning left from All’ Antico, Gran Caffe San Marco was on the opposite corner of the same block. Inside, a beautifully curved marble counter swept through the room. At one end there was a glass case full of pastries, another with sandwiches and lite fare, and at the opposite end, a full service coffee bar. From appearance alone, I expected it to be overpriced but the menu had plenty of options that were quite reasonable.
In the low nineties, it was a bit warm but I decided to sit outside feeling slightly underdressed and a little too sweaty for such luxurious environs. If you’ve been following along at all, you can probably guess what I ordered. An Aperol spritz, of course! One of my side quests was to find il migliore in all of Florence. This was definitely the best one so far. Relaxing into my chair, I thoroughly enjoyed my beverage as well as some fantastic people watching until it was time for class.
The others headed back to the apartment after our lesson so I went to buy a ticket to the Accademia for the next day. It is well advised to plan ahead as the line to see the David can be incredibly long. Another thing to know is that time of entry is set so you don’t just roll up whenever and go straight in. Tickets are purchased at a separate location on the opposite side of the street a short way down from the entrance. Molto facile!
It was getting a bit late at this point in terms of museums. Many closed between four and six, at least during the time I was there. Some do have extended summer hours staying open or reopening later in the evening. These times aren’t always posted online, so make sure to keep an eye out if you want to avoid larger crowds and midday heat. Finding one open until 8, I headed to Novecento on Piazza Santa Maria Novella.
A museum of modern art, Novecento is housed in what used to be a monastery. Featuring works by Louise Bourgeois and Modigliani, it wasn’t huge. Which was nice in the sense of being somewhat less overwhelming than the Uffizi, for example, which you could spend days in and still only see a fraction of the entire collection.
Once my Firenze Card had been scanned, I sat in the cloister for about ten minutes to enjoy stillness, quiet, and a light, refreshing drizzle after several unseasonably hot days. At the center was Spider Couple by Bourgeois. Approximately seven feet tall, the iron sculpture represents a couple—husband and wife, parents, parent and child. Citing her book Ode à ma mère, the placard revealed motherhood as a central theme in her work from the mid-1990s onward, and that the image of the spider came to represent her mother.
A blue neon sign on an adjacent wall read “Everything might be different.” Thinking about the relationship-ish I was in, then not, in then not, I wanted everything to be different. I wanted her to be there with me. But we were phasing into dissonance, like sound or light waves canceling each other out into silence or darkness. During the entirety of this three week journey, we didn’t talk or text once. Oh, the tangled webs we weave.
The second floor had several more exhibits. I found one somewhat bizarre in its allusion to what I read as childhood neglect, another immersive and abstract, yet another elegantly simple but unprovocative. I have to admit that I don’t really “get” modern art. At least not until the vision or intent of the artist has been revealed and explained. I’m certainly not here to knock anyone’s creative expression, time, effort, or raw experience used to fuel the fire which manifests deeply symbolic meanings into physical form. The creation is, in and of itself, beautifully human. And, I do get that a significant component of art lies in the perhaps unique meanings, emotions, and interpretations each of us is meant to have while experiencing it.
Another contemplation was the existence, specifically in this space, of the juxtaposition between medieval and Renaissance artifacts in fresco and architecture as backdrop for the modern. Know your roots. The contrapposto between feet planted firmly in tradition while the torso turns and twists towards embracing the new, is a reality I imagine Florence and the whole of Italy grapples with daily.
It took about an hour to go through what I wanted to see. Feeling a bit “museumed out,” I headed back to the apartment. There was a high chance of rain forecast the following day so I scoped out a couple sites within a few blocks of the language school and the Accademia before spending the rest of the evening journaling over several glasses of wine.
