An extreme hail storm hit my beloved city of Florence on Friday, causing several museums to shut down while damage is assessed.  It is estimated that there is overall damage of one and a half million euros.

There has been damage to some of the stained glass windows, flooding of some museum rooms, and damage to some of the trees and plants in the Boboli Gardens  (the gardens that are adjacent to the old Medici Palace.)

I put this post up to talk a bit about how precious the art heritage is in Florence and throughout Italy and the world, and how easily it can be lost or destroyed.

This is by far not the first, nor the worst, damage that Mother Nature has wrought upon the beauty that is Florence.

In 1966 there was a horrible flooding of the Arno.  This taken from Wikipedia:

“The 1966 Flood of the Arno River in Florence killed many people and damaged or destroyed millions of masterpieces of art and rare books. It is considered the worst flood in the city’s history since 1557. With the combined effort of Italian citizens and foreign donors and committees, or angeli del fango (“Mud Angels”), many of these fine works have been restored. New methods in conservation were devised and restoration laboratories established. However, even decades later, much work remains to be done.

5,000 families were left homeless by the storm, and 6,000 stores were forced out of business. Approximately 600,000 tons of mud, rubble and sewage severely damaged or destroyed numerous collections of the written work and fine art for which Florence is famous. In fact, it is estimated that between 3 and 4 million books/manuscripts were damaged, as well as 14,000 movable works of art.”

I have seen in particular a beautiful crucifix from the 13th century by an artist named Cimabue, which was severely damaged by the 1966 flood.

What was once a magnificent work of art is now heavily damaged by the flood of November 1966. Housed in Santa Croce in Florence, the flood waters had risen higher than twenty feet, ripping most of the paint off of the over 700 year old Christ figure. The figure is so beautiful and yet so heartbreaking.

This is a photo of Cimabue’s crucifix taken before the 1966 flood:

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This is a photo that I took of it after the damage:

The damage from Mother Nature is difficult enough to fathom, let alone the immense  and even more senseless damage that has come from man.

At the end of the 15th century, a Dominican friar and priest named Savonarola led people of Florence to burn thousands of objects of art, clothing, books, etc. in what is known as the Bonfire of the Vanities. Much in Italy was lost to bombing in World War II and many frescoes, sculpture and architecture have been lost simply to changing tastes and “remodeling”.

My understanding of these events helps me to appreciate the art that I still am blessed to see when I am in Italy.  It helps me to understand how precious it is and, like life, it can be taken from us at any moment.

Savor the beauty of both life and art!

I was so excited.  I could not believe how beautiful the apartment was, how wonderful the location, and how at home I already felt in this beautiful city.

I had purchased a book called “An Art Lover’s Guide to Florence”.  I love this book. I actually even wound up sending copy of it to a dear friend who was heading to Florence in the near future.  I will tell more about beautiful, beloved Sarah later in my story.  She is part of my love of Florence.

Here is the Amazon description of the book:

“No city but Florence contains such an intense concentration of art produced in such a short span of time. The sheer number and proximity of works of painting, sculpture, and architecture in Florence can be so overwhelming that Florentine hospitals treat hundreds of visitors each year for symptoms brought on by trying to see them all, an illness famously identified with the French author Stendhal.

While most guidebooks offer only brief descriptions of a large number of works, with little discussion of the historical background, Judith Testa gives a fresh perspective on the rich and brilliant art of the Florentine Renaissance in An Art Lover’s Guide to Florence. Concentrating on a number of the greatest works, by such masters as Botticelli and Michelangelo, Testa explains each piece in terms of what it meant to the people who produced it and for whom they made it, deftly treating the complex interplay of politics, sex, and religion that were involved in the creation of those works.”

They are not kidding about the syndrome that one can suffer when one is tempted to absorb too much art (and it is so very tempting to do so).  It is called Stendhal’s Syndrome and I have felt its’ effects many times!

i did know this, which is emphasized in the book, that you can view the art and architecture in Florence for its’ surface beauty, but each piece and each building was created in the context of time, place, developments and politics.

For me, knowing some of this information makes the experience of viewing much richer.  It brings more understanding and fascination.  It gets my imagination going and wondering what it was like to live during those medieval and renaissance times.

I read in this book about a museum called Orsanmichele.  It was only open on Mondays and my first full day was my only Monday in Florence, so I put that on my first-day priority list.

Orsanmichele is famously known for the sculptures of saints placed in the niches or tabernacles on all four sides of the church by the various guilds of Florence. Executed between 1340 and 1602, they form a timeline of gothic and renaissance art that is perhaps unrivaled in one location.

The museum was simple, elegant, quiet and peaceful.  It was a lovely experience and it was from within this place that I was able to take the shot of the Duomo that is my feature photo on this blog.  You can see the windows in the photo on this post from which I took that photo.  It being Europe, where people and lawyers are not lawsuit crazy, the windows which were on the second floor–could be opened wide, and no one stopped me from doing so.  Because of this, I was able to take that shot of the Duomo without any window glare. And I caught the shot with the beautiful cloud formations and colors.  Ten minutes later, the clouds had passed.  I took more shots then, with the clear blue sky, but they did not compare to the one with the depth and interest of the clouds!

It was proving to to be a good first day!

Alright, so I was going to do this “going to Florence alone thing”. Flight booked-check.  Apartment rented-check.  Money set aside-check. Time scheduled off work (what work?)-check.

Then came the damned doubts– “I cannot do this.  I am a scatterbrain!  I will miss a flight, lose my passport, get lost, find myself unable to find the apartment, and if I do-it will be a disaster when I arrive.”  The doubt demons descended upon me.

I had to cast them off. I was going to do this. If any of these things were to happen, I would still be alright somehow.  This is one of the tricks that I have learned in these, my mid-life years; to play things all the way out in my mind.  In particular those things that frighten me or that the doubt demons attempt to instill into my brain. Once I do that, I realize that I will be alright.  As long as nothing threatens my health or well-being, I will be alright.

I was committed and so I hopped on a plane in Austin five days before my 50th, headed to Florence via a few stops and layovers (Austin and Florence are not exactly major hubs!)

I found my way to Florence.  I made my flights, I held onto my passport, I found the apartment (thanks to a phone call to the apartment owner placed upon the ear of the taxi driver), met my landlord and handled the money for keys exchange smoothly.

Travel gods-you rock!

When my florentine Laura, the apartment owner, finished showing me the place and left, I just found myself standing there in the middle of the beautiful apartment and thinking to myself, “Now what?”

Knowing that I had to stay up until at least 9 or 10pm Florence time to avoid jet lag, I splashed some cold water on my face and hit the streets! The apartment was on the second floor which is actually the third floor in American terms.  The steps were  uneven and of very old worn stone, the edges smooth from centuries of treading feet. I made certain to note where the light switches were and just hoped that I would find my way back and safely into my apartment that first evening despite the disorientation that comes with so many hours of travel and time difference.

I just began to wander.  The Oltrarno neighborhood truly was not deluged with tourists.  It felt like home to me almost immediately.  I headed in the direction of the Ponte Vecchio.  The shops on the Ponte Vecchio (Old Bridge) were once filled with butchers and tanners, but they were replaced with goldsmiths in the 16th century because of the stench.  Interesting. Today is is swarmed with tourists and shops attempting to sell them gold that most of us could never afford these days.  Despite all that, the bridge and its’ shops still have a charm and a feel of the medieval that they once were.

Before I walked as far as the Ponte Vecchio, however,  I spotted a lovely, tiny wine bar just across from the Palazzi Pitti-the old Medici Palace. There was a warm glow falling on the pavement through the windows of this place and I could see that there was just a handful of souls inside.  I stepped in and my Florence adventure began…