40 Day Dream

It is officially my 40th day in Europe. My days here so far have been quite the dream and time has been moving at lightning speed...despite the much slower daily lifestyle of Italy.

Last week, I was able to see the cities of Mantua and Bologna on day trips. In Mantua, we visited the Church of San Andrea with architecture by Leon Battista Alberti. We saw the Palazzo Ducale with frescoes by Mantegna, as well as Palazzo Te which was designed by architect Guilio Romano. The natives of the freezing, small, ancient city of Mantua (called Mantova) were a little odd, but the medieval architecture of the palaces and our amazing lunch of Mantua's renowned Tortelli di Zucca (pumpkin ravioli) was a savory mid-day treat.

The trip to Bologna included stops at Piancoteca to see works of Raphael, Aspertini, and Parmigianino; The Church of San Petronio for a viewing of the Aspertini Pietà, and Parmigianino's San Rocco; The Church of San Martino for Aspertini's Madonna and Saints; The Church of San Giacomo Maggiore for the Pellegrino Tibaldi's Cappella Poggi; The Oratorio di S. Cecilia for frescoes by Francia, Costa and Aspertini; and Palazzo Poggi for Pellegrino Tibaldi and Prospero Fontana frescoes.

This is a blur of church names and works, but a painting that stood out in my mind from Bologna was Parmigianino's Madonna with San Margherita because of the strange and almost corrupted scene of a "Sacred Conversation." This was painted for a convent of nuns, however the women of the convent sold it almost immediately because of the unusually intimate, almost inappropriate interaction between Saint Margherita and the Christ Child. Her hand grazes His chin as though she were about to kiss Him. Also, I mention this painting because Parmigianino is a native of Parma, the city where I live, and his works are a perfect example of Mannerist painting. Overall, I really liked Bologna. It is a university town with lots of students, dogs, and moderate prices. The architecture is ancient, but the graffiti is techi-colored. I bought new high heels for 5€ and mushroom pizza with Nutella pizza for dessert under 4€. I am not even full of Bologna!

This week was my first full week of classes and the start of my internship at the National Archaeological Museum of Parma! I have been meeting with my tandem partner for Italian and getting to know the city of Parma more and more each day. I have been attending a weekly cooking class of five course Italian cuisine with this adorable older couple, Anna and Aldo. Needless to say, I leave there every Wednesday in a delirious state, far beyond a food coma. Anna's food is unlike anything I have ever had, and I never fail to clean my plate. YUM.

There was a three-day Chocolate Festival this past weekend, which I frequented (at least everyday it was there) to see and experience literal chocolate ART. There were delicious confections of ALL shapes, sizes and flavors. My favorites were the chocolate in the shape of tools, keys, watches, and shoes as well as the chocolate with hot peppers in it! Molto piccante!

There was chocolate pasta, chocolate covered fruits, white chocolate in the shape of cheese, and basically chocolate EVERYTHING.

Willy Wanka got a run for his money on this one. This place is the stuff dreams are made of AND I got to experience it with my good friend currently studying in London, Juliana. We had a grand time galavanting through town in the most beautiful weather I have seen here so far!

p.s. This week, I also got to see the factory where they make the AUTHENTIC Parmigiano-Reggiano...the Parmesan Cheese that can only truly be made in PARMA! The official brand is stamped right on the crust. We saw the Master Cheese Maker and the Cheese Cutters and the giant storage room where they age this amazing delicacy for up to two or three years before it is ripe for selling. I literally eat Parmesan cheese on EVERYTHING and I truly love it on its own. We got to sample the finished product at the end of our tour. BUONISSIMO!

Wolf Like Me

I woke before the crack of dawn on a sleepy Sunday. Getting dressed in the dark, I piled layer upon layer of weather-proof clothing. My warm furr for the day made me look like a Patagonia/UnderArmor commercial. I had packed a backpack the night before with all the necessities...I felt ready to climb Mt. Everest with Krakauer. Fleece headband, hat, gloves, snow pants, vest, parka, slicker, high socks, snow boots, bubble wrap for sitting in the snow, a lunch of prosciutto panini, an orange, and chocolate (all KEY staples in my italian cuisine), a waterbottle, sunglasses, chapstick, camera, phone, and of course...SNOW SHOES. The word for snowshoes here is "le ciaspole," so a snowshoeing journey would be called "ciaspolata." My host parents are extremely involved in hiking, skiing, and other outdoor activities. My host dad, Marco, is an alpine ski instructor and acts as a guide/rescuer for these types of excursions. They have invited me to join them on all their various adventures. Needless to say, I was more than ready for a ciaspolata!

I doze off and drown in tunes as we drive through endless mountain roads. With innumerable switchbacks, we climb and climb in our little European car for about an hour. Interestingly enough, the region we end up in is still considered part of Parma. I found the small, very rural mountain villages extremely quaint. Painted in bright colors, the weathered houses found a perfect backdrop buried in the deep greens and browns of the rolling mountain terrain. 

After driving up Monte Nero (part of the Appenine Mountains in Northern Italy, named for the black bark on the innumerable trees that freckle the steep slopes) we reached an altitude where snow surrounded us. Then, we geared up. The snow shoes are a tad clumsy at first, but you get used to it. They are wider plastic and have small spikes on the bottom which help with traction in deep snow. You have to make sure your boots fit in tight, and you are given two poles for walking. It's essentially like skiing, but backwards. You have to climb UP the mountain. It's a hike in the snow. Considering I LOVE snow and really enjoy hiking, it was a perfect way to slowly observe the nature that surrounded us. 

The woods were "lovely, dark, and deep." As we climbed higher and higher, there was fog all around us so we literally were dispersed in a cloud of white. 

I felt as though I emerged from the Wardrobe into Narnia to meet the Lion and the Witch. At flat points, when fog and snow surrounded me and shrouded everyone else from my vision, it was as though I was entirely alone in the tundra. A single speck in a cold universe. 

At difficult points, when I felt cold or tired from the steep hills, I simply sang this to myself and knew that I would be rescued if anything happened. My host mom, Paola, wished the sun had come out for our journey. She said that this weather on the mountain, with SO much fog, snow, and hail, was called "tempo di lupi," or the "Weather of the Wolves." A wolf, with its fur and keen eye would be able to navigate this weather perfectly, and stay warm. Our trail lead us over bubbling streams and around dark frozen branches. It was marked with white and red paint stripes on trees, they refer to these pistes all over N. Italy as "bianco rosso." When we came to a frozen body of water covered in deep snow called Lago Nero (Black Lake), we saw a lonesome, wet dog who calls these mountains home. 

I learned how to rescue someone from an avalanche and other important mountain safety tips for snowshoeing. We made our descent after a picnic lunch and I felt so gratified and exhausted by the end of the day. The savory steaming broth, homemade pasta, famous Parmigiano cheese with bread, wine, and conversation at dinner back home warmed my weathered body and soul after a long day spent getting lost in the beauty of the Italian woods. 

Blindsided

L'Ultima Cena - Leonardo DaVinci

While in Milan, I was able to view the famous 15th century fresco of The Last Supper by Leonardo DaVinci at Santa Maria delle Grazie. The work displays DaVinci's brilliance through its use of one-point perspective to portray the scene logically regressing into space. The incredulous, somewhat frantic expressions within this familiar scene are said to capture the exact moment after Jesus announces that one of his Twelve Apostles will betray him. As seen through the rippling wave of reaction down the table, the apostles were entirely blindsided by these accusatory words of Christ and you can see clearly their emotional response in gesture and facial expression...

Though many restoration projects and techniques have been performed, this work remains in terrible condition. Literally disintegrating in front of our eyes, DaVinci's "fresco secco" was unfortunately an ineffective technique. Painting directly on dry cement as opposed to wet, the technique used on this particular work, created a weak bond for the paint and therefore allowed for much damage to occur over the numerous years of turbulence in Milan's history. Appointments to view this holy scene must be booked weeks in advance and visitors are only allowed to stay in the room with the fresco for ten or fifteen minutes.

While in Milan, we also visited the Brera Gallery where we viewed an array of magnificent paintings by Italian masters such as Mantega, Raphael, and Piero della Francesco. The work of Mantegna entitled "Lamentation Over Christ" proved the most dramatic in its extreme foreshortening of the dead body of Christ and was effective in capturing of the tragic moment of mourning after the Crucifixion.

I feel very lucky to have been able to set eyes on DaVinci's disappearing masterpiece. Seeing it in real life was spectacular. Just look closely...before we all lose the chance.

Empty

Last Wednesday, my art history course took a delightful detour. Instead of going to an archaic abode of Renaissance and Mannerist art per usual, we visited a modern art exhibit in Palazzo del Governatore at Piazza Garibaldi and the Chiesa di San Marcellino. A show entitled 'Naufragio con Spettatore' (Shipwreak with Spectator), it displayed the work of the eccentric contemporary artist, Claudio Parmiggiani. He utilized iron, paint, smoke, anchors, books and other forms of multi-media representation to show unusual, yet deeply meaningful messages through visual ironies. Not a single work title was displayed nor were there any descriptive plaques. The beauty and vivacity of the exhibit is renewed with each instantaneous interpretation by each individual viewer. By adding this component of mystery in the meaning, the artist successfully breathes life into each piece.

This is a picture of the work constructed inside an old abandoned church. Chilled to the bone by the extremely low temperature of the space, as well as the eerie calm of a ship placed indoors, I stood in awe of both the scale and ambition of the piece. It is a real, life-sized sail boat, placed on piles of thousands of books. Thousands and thousands of piled pages of words. I could smell the freshly aged paper when I walked in. The symbolism could be seen as pessimistic or optimistic. 

Though I believe the artist looked at this work as a symbol of hopelessness, I interpreted in a more optimistic manner...

For when the sails of Humanity become tangled in harsh winds of Society, Man is ultimately able to keep afloat with the unyielding support of pure Knowledge and Wisdom.

The installation on the interior of the museum space was set up within numerous conjoining rooms that were entirely bare. Empty except for one single work in each, the rooms were painted stark white. The artist wanted only natural light to be used, so the windows were all uncovered and the minimal electric lamps were created to emulate sunlight. The gray tile floor of the museum, located in an old palace in the center of Parma, was the perfect contrast to the bright simplicity of rest of the exhibition space. This theme of contrasting textures and contradicting ideologies would remain a theme throughout the show. 

For instance, this light chalk statuette of a woman, with a delicate butterfly shrouding her genitals, is placed opposite a large, old-fashioned dark wooden cello case (like a coffin) with multiple butterflies swarming like flies on the inside. Without the instrument inside, it has lost all meaning and its proper funtion. The statue's focus on life, pristine beauty, and youth is dramatically contrasted with the heavy, eerie 'memento mori' of the splintering and weathered wooden case often used for burying dead in past centuries. 

Another multi-media work with a nautical theme, made years before this installation was even imagined, is this toy-like, tri-part work. Similar to the ship on the books within the church, but on a significantly smaller scale, this has strikingly similar imagery. However, it brings the role of Man directly into the equation through the placing of the chalk cast of the disembodied head wedged in between the boat and the books. A possible interpretation...

Man is the Foundation for forward movement, or Progress, but only when He rests on Reason. 

One of my favorite of Parmaggiani's works was a small lead sculpture of a anatomically correct heart. The heavy, lifeless model of this vital organ is placed on top of an open book. However, the book has blank pages. There are no words. Since the heart is made of iron, and therefore not real and pumping, it is not functional and therefore not actually even effective for its purpose within the work. Without putting One's real, authentic Heart into anything...nothing Productive can result. Hence, the blank pages. So One's book will always be empty and therefore void of all meaning, if One refuses to put the Passion and Heart into all creative endeavors...in this case, writing or intellectual expression on the page.

Though I could literally go into the political, intellectual, societal, and social commentary that thrilled me with each passing work of art in this exhibit, I won't. I couldn't provide proper visual aid, considering many of the works were made new, solely for this installation in Parma.

However, I will leave you with one of my favorites of the show. One which will be remaining once it leaves the space. It is an entire small room, located at the end of the exhibit. The artist began with freshly painted white walls. He then installed shelves and arranged numerous books of all shapes and sizes upon them. He proceeded to close off the opening to the room and allow a fire to burn in the center over night. This left the most remarkable silhouette of soot behind. I could still smell the sulfur and smell of charred paint. The black ash that smoked from the fire now covers the walls in the pattern of books on shelves, showing only a ghostly negative of what used to be.

Over all the show was eerie, magical, and shocking in its ironies and intellectual intricacies. It renewed my faith in modern art and allowed for a interesting break from the classical works of Italian masters.

Paris (Aeroplane Remix ft. Au Revoir Simone)

"...the nostalgia of a trip you've only dreamt of..."


The experience of seeing Paris for the first time was like walking by a candy shop window every single day of your life, and only at age twenty one years old being able to FINALLY go in and taste a macaroon. (The world-renowned macaroons at Ladurée on the Champs Elysée did the trick for this fantasy!)

"An artist has no home in Europe except in Paris." 

-Friedrich Nietzsche 

The art, architecture, culture, food, and language had me absolutely dazzled and dying for more. We rode around the city on a red double decker bus tour called "Les Cars Rouges." This was a fabulous way to see the main sights of the City of Lights. 

Notre Dame Cathedral inspired awe and silence as the vaulted Gothic architecture evoked spirituality and reverence. Voices echoed and droned as we observed the relics and large stone pillars that surrounded us. I loved this church even more than Saint Peter's...which appeared gaudy in comparison with its Baroque elaboration. We were fortunate enough to attend Mass here (entirely in french) on Saturday night. I spotted Quasimodo hanging in the bell tower conversing with the gargoyles and I am almost positive the gypsy who begged for money outside was Esmeralda. 

"Good Americans, when they die, go to Paris." 

-Thomas Gold Appleton

The Champs Elysée was the place to be. With high end shopping and  fashionable madames dressed to the neufs, this is certainly where the plush and wealthy saunter. We had an authentic lunch at a bistro called Charles V. We spotted a little pug wagging it's curled tail behind a swirling wrought iron banister of a second story window along the rue. As we watched the embroidered silk curtains dance in front of him as the crystal chandelier hug above, we knew that we had caught a glimpse of the real Paris. 


"All I wanted was to connect my moods with those of Paris. Beauty paints and when it painted most, I shot." 
-Ernst Haas



The Opéra and Grand Palais were breath-taking. Madame Butterfly was playing and I would have given anything to have seen it in the grand theatre. Trocadéro (named after the Spanish battle) was the perfect bookend, complimenting the Eiffel Tower, to border the Champ de Mars (once a training ground for young soldiers...it got its named from the mythological diety Mars, the god of war.)  


Walking under arches to enter the courtyard of the Louvre was quite an experience. With the dark of night contrasting each elaborate window lit up in waves of gold with fountains spurting everywhere, I have never felt so excited. A French man played his sultry viola as the gushing water sprayed my face and the anticipation of seeing famous art aroused my soul. This moment of awe was the epitome of bliss pour moi. 


Inside the Louvre, seeing the Mona Lisa, the Venus di Milo, the Nike of Samothrace, Botticellis, and other famous historical art melted my heart. 


However, my most significant artistic moment happened at the Musée d'Orsay. Within an old train station with high glass ceilings exposing the fine works underneath, this place I could spend all day in. The Impressionists and Post Impressionists that I have been learning about for years hung heavy with textured impasto paint on the walls. Renoir's "Dance in the City" literally took my breath away as I stood in front of it. I had an outer-body experience as I set eyes on a work I have studied intensely and replicated into fresco form in an art history workshop. 


"America is my country and Paris is my hometown." 
-Gertrude Stein 


We climbed the Tour Eiffel on foot...all six hundred something stairs. The panoramic view of France's capital was entirely worth every step up the iron structure. The ice rink on the second level was a pleasant surprise that I would love to revisit someday. 


Built as the entrance to the 1889 World Fair by Eiffel, the lattice tower was meant to be temporary. Now, it remains as an icon that I have dreamt of seeing from childhood.  My favorite moment shared with the 'iron lady' was when I stood munching on a croque monsieur while the monument sparkled brilliantly and lit up in the night sky!  



"Going out in Paris was like going out in the '30s dressed like the Andrews Sisters. It was everything I'd seen in books at my grandparents' house, only it was our generation." 
-Christina Lacroix


Our last day was spent at Versaille. This palace was the largest, most elaborate structure I have ever set foot in. I felt like a princess as I meandered each gold-leafed, color-coded chamber. The floral canopy bed of Marie Antoinette was my favorite part. We got to see through the small hidden door through which she escaped the night Versaille was stormed during the French Revolution. After the tour, we got the royal treatment as we delicately ate eclairs and tarts in the palace cafe. Outside, the green gardens twirled and turned in labyrinths of topiary twists. The fountains, lawns, and wooded areas stretched for miles and I can only imagine what it felt like to own such astounding acreage. 


This was initially meant for one of my very loyal readers, but I will repost it because I personally found the food my favorite part of Paris:


l'addition a la fin di paris:

soup de l'oignon 9€
beignet sucre e chocolat 2€
crepes avec nutella e banane a la Bastille quartier 4€
croque monsieur a la tour d'eifel 4€
croque madame alla baguette avec oeuf 10€
macaroon caramel a la Ladurée Champs D'Elysee 1€
eclair chocolat a la Versaille 2€
vin rose (not grapejuice!) 4€
croissant le beurre a la PAUL 1€
cafe au lait vanille 4€
quiche avec salmon 1€
french fries 2€
a weekend of eating NONSTOP, priceless. 


I could talk about Paris all day, but dreams must be awoken from and this post must cease at some point. I was able to use all that French I learned in high school, I was able to eat crépes till I exploded, and I learned a lot about traveling in Europe. Despite some minor crazed events that occurred this weekend, I had a fabulous time galavanting through the city with some wonderful people. Paris literally holds the Key to my Heart, but arriving back in Italy felt like coming Home. C'est la vie.