Rome is chock full of fabulous museums and original classic art, and nothing is more fun to me than spending a couple hours in a great museum just thinking and looking and walking. I realize that might be unusual, but I don’t care. Museums are just good places to think, even if you don’t look at the art work around you. If you do look at the art AND you think, museums can be quite formative I think.
But I digress… what you really need to know if that we started our day with a trip to the Galleria Borghese, a fantastic museum with a collection of paintings and statues that blew my mind. Since I only have so much time to write, I will try to be concise about all the incredible art work I saw. My favorite part was the statues by Bernini, a Baroque sculptor. His sculptures are unbelievable. His figures are so detailed that you can see veins and muscles and hairs and all kinds of things you would not expect to see in a piece of marble. When his figures touch each other, you can even see the imprints their fingers leave in the other’s skin. I literally stood in front of his work with my mouth open. My favorite was Apollo and Daphne and The Rape of Proserpina… check them out on google and see if you can zoom in to see detail… they are awesome!
There was also a Francis Bacon/ Caravaggio exhibit. Caravaggio is the essence of Baroque painting, and Baroque is my all-time favorite style. The way he plays with light and color while giving his paintings extremely realistic details with clean lines is what makes me so attracted to him. I love very detailed, clean artwork. Bacon on the other hand is a modern artist whose paintings are anything but detailed and clean. That being said, I loved him too. I have always hated modern art with a passion. To me it has always seemed pointless and simple. I have always said that some modern art is the product of a life devoid of meaning and purpose. In our post-Christian world, we get a lot of art that is purposeless. However, I changed my mind about modern art that day, looking at Francis Bacon. His art is still the product of a life devoid of meaning and purpose, in my opinion, but that is why I like it. Let me explain. I think Bacon and other modern artists are TRYING to be purposeless in some cases and are TRYING to show that life is futile. At least, that is part of what I think Bacon tried to do. So, if I as a Christian, someone who believes that life is not futile, can learn to appreciate and interpret works by people like Bacon, then I have a very clear glimpse of what goes on in a non-believer’s mind, and I can start to understand them and this post-Christian culture we all live in. Therefore, I think it is important to learn about modern art because it gives me a window into my own culture that I would not have otherwise.
Back to Rome. After the museum, we walked to the church where Michelangelo’s Moses stands. The church was closed till three, so we took a lunch break and ended up in a tiny café by a college in Rome. The café was recommended by Rick Steves, according to a laminated sign on the front door. That meal turned out to be the best I had in Italy, and maybe during this entire trip. The pizza and pasta were fantastic, and at the end we had a cappuccino. That cappuccino ruined me, because I have not had any cup of coffee that good before or since. Oh well, at least I had one perfect cup of coffee before I die (not to be dramatic or anything).
After lunch we saw Moses, honestly a little disappointing for a Michelangelo. I am afraid I am turning into a super art critic who sizes everything up and criticizes great masters, but who can’t sketch a flower herself. Oh well.
After we saw Moses, we walked to the Castle of St. Angelo, one of the pope’s former residences. We had wanted to walk to the top of St. Peter’s but we didn’t make it there before it closed. Disappointed, we decided to climb to the top of the castle instead. That little snafu turned out to be the best disappointment ever. Not only could we see the whole city from our vantage point, but we could also see St. Peters and the sun setting behind it. It was glorious. We read a Psalm about the Lord ruling over His creation while we looked at the church which has served as the seat of church authority through the centuries- it was a powerful experience.
After some more pasta and gelato (why do I keep telling you when I eat this stuff?), we went back to the hotel. I listened to Dean Martin’s song On an Evening in Roma and felt very good about life before I fell asleep.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Michelangelo
If I could use one word to sum up my entire Italy experience, it would be Michelangelo. They are literally crazy about him in Italy. Absolutely obsessed. After I saw some of his work, I began understand why. Monday we toured the Vatican, and my view of art and specifically Michelangelo’s art was changed forever.
We started our day with a tour of the Vatican. The Vatican is located in the very heart of the city of Rome and is recognized as its own independent country, so that no one nation (such as Italy) can claim the control of the pope and therefore the Catholic Church. The Vatican is completely walled in, and I loved walking around Rome and coming across the imposing wall of another country- it gave me the temporary illusion of living in Medieval Europe. Roberta met us at the Vatican and gave us a whirlwind tour to beat all whirlwind tours, which is rather unfortunate as I would have liked to have spent a whole day in the Vatican. In spite of this, we did get to see several really cool art works. The Vatican has basically been transformed into the sacred art treasury of the world, in part because of its frescoes painted by Michelangelo and Raphael and in part because of sacred art brought there from all over the world. We saw the Laocoon Group, a famous statue of the Baroque era. There was a hall of maps and a hall of tapestries. One of my very favorite parts was the frescoes by Raphael. His famous School of Athens is in a room behind the Sistine Chapel and honestly I LOVED it. I really did. I have seen so many poor imitations of it in art history books and in classroom settings, but honestly a picture on a slide show does not come close to the real thing. For the first time, I understood the value of actually looking at a work in person. It’s like the difference between buying Kroger peanut butter and buying Jiff- obviously, one is far superior to the other (I really miss Jiff, by the way).
After the frescoes by Raphael, we moved into the Sistine Chapel. Part of me expected to be blown away and sit and cry and laugh and do all those crazy things a person ought to do when they finally see the Sistine Chapel. Another part of me figured it was probably overrated. So I guess I really didn’t know what to expect. I will say this: it is definitely not overrated. And I didn’t cry, but I felt like I could. The chapel was not as big as I had thought it might be and the frescoes were not as detailed as they look in the pictures on Wikipedia, but the result was far more beautiful. I could have sat and stared for hours on end. I am honestly glad that the Italians are right about Michelangelo.
We only had twenty minutes in the chapel, which was by no means sufficient. We never had enough time anywhere we went, but I guess that’s how it goes. If I lived in Rome for five years I am not sure that I would be able to see everything and take it all in the way I want to, so I am learning to be content with seeing only a glimpse of what Europe has to offer and knowing that it is much better than nothing.
Then we went to St. Peter’s Basilica, the “Mother Church” as they call it in Italy. St. Peter’s really is the church to end all churches. Not only is it grandiose in size (it’s the biggest church in the world, period…. I tried to think of some equally large American church but was informed that nothing in America even comes close, except perhaps that church in Texas which meets in the Astrodome, but I’m not sure that counts), but it is also extremely, EXTREMELY elaborate inside. The church is built over the grave of St. Peter himself, and we know this because several hundred years ago, a pope did some excavations under the church in order to find out if it was in fact built over Peter’s grave. The pope’s excavation team discovered a whole cemetery and a head stone with Peter’s name on it, along with a couple other details which prove it was him.
St. Peter’s houses Michelangelo’s Pieta, a statue which I absolutely adore. I am turning into a Michelangelo fanatic myself- go figure! The statue features Mary with Jesus lying dead across her lap, though most of the focus for me centers on Mary and not Jesus. Mary’s pain and beauty are so well captured and so believable. When you look at the Pieta, you see a woman mourning the loss of her son, and that is why I like it.
After the Vatican, I walked to the Trevi Fountain with a group of ten or so people. I loved the Trevi Fountain, but I hesitate to tell you why. I guess I will go ahead and say it, in case Laura, Rebecca, or Courtenay is reading this…. I love the fountain because it was in the Lizzie McGuire Movie. I can’t believe I just said that. But seriously, I have loved that movie since eighth grade and because of it, I always wanted to visit Rome. It looks just like it does in the movie, except the shops that are pictured in front of the fountain in the movie look surprisingly like a different row of shops altogether. There’s Hollywood for you.
I ate gnocchi, Italian potato pasta, for dinner. Gnocchi is really good but really dense, and it’s one of those dishes that is best eaten in small proportions. We walked around Rome till dark, got some gelato (I bet you didn’t see that coming!), and went back to our hotel. All I can say is, I slept very good that night!
We started our day with a tour of the Vatican. The Vatican is located in the very heart of the city of Rome and is recognized as its own independent country, so that no one nation (such as Italy) can claim the control of the pope and therefore the Catholic Church. The Vatican is completely walled in, and I loved walking around Rome and coming across the imposing wall of another country- it gave me the temporary illusion of living in Medieval Europe. Roberta met us at the Vatican and gave us a whirlwind tour to beat all whirlwind tours, which is rather unfortunate as I would have liked to have spent a whole day in the Vatican. In spite of this, we did get to see several really cool art works. The Vatican has basically been transformed into the sacred art treasury of the world, in part because of its frescoes painted by Michelangelo and Raphael and in part because of sacred art brought there from all over the world. We saw the Laocoon Group, a famous statue of the Baroque era. There was a hall of maps and a hall of tapestries. One of my very favorite parts was the frescoes by Raphael. His famous School of Athens is in a room behind the Sistine Chapel and honestly I LOVED it. I really did. I have seen so many poor imitations of it in art history books and in classroom settings, but honestly a picture on a slide show does not come close to the real thing. For the first time, I understood the value of actually looking at a work in person. It’s like the difference between buying Kroger peanut butter and buying Jiff- obviously, one is far superior to the other (I really miss Jiff, by the way).
After the frescoes by Raphael, we moved into the Sistine Chapel. Part of me expected to be blown away and sit and cry and laugh and do all those crazy things a person ought to do when they finally see the Sistine Chapel. Another part of me figured it was probably overrated. So I guess I really didn’t know what to expect. I will say this: it is definitely not overrated. And I didn’t cry, but I felt like I could. The chapel was not as big as I had thought it might be and the frescoes were not as detailed as they look in the pictures on Wikipedia, but the result was far more beautiful. I could have sat and stared for hours on end. I am honestly glad that the Italians are right about Michelangelo.
We only had twenty minutes in the chapel, which was by no means sufficient. We never had enough time anywhere we went, but I guess that’s how it goes. If I lived in Rome for five years I am not sure that I would be able to see everything and take it all in the way I want to, so I am learning to be content with seeing only a glimpse of what Europe has to offer and knowing that it is much better than nothing.
Then we went to St. Peter’s Basilica, the “Mother Church” as they call it in Italy. St. Peter’s really is the church to end all churches. Not only is it grandiose in size (it’s the biggest church in the world, period…. I tried to think of some equally large American church but was informed that nothing in America even comes close, except perhaps that church in Texas which meets in the Astrodome, but I’m not sure that counts), but it is also extremely, EXTREMELY elaborate inside. The church is built over the grave of St. Peter himself, and we know this because several hundred years ago, a pope did some excavations under the church in order to find out if it was in fact built over Peter’s grave. The pope’s excavation team discovered a whole cemetery and a head stone with Peter’s name on it, along with a couple other details which prove it was him.
St. Peter’s houses Michelangelo’s Pieta, a statue which I absolutely adore. I am turning into a Michelangelo fanatic myself- go figure! The statue features Mary with Jesus lying dead across her lap, though most of the focus for me centers on Mary and not Jesus. Mary’s pain and beauty are so well captured and so believable. When you look at the Pieta, you see a woman mourning the loss of her son, and that is why I like it.
After the Vatican, I walked to the Trevi Fountain with a group of ten or so people. I loved the Trevi Fountain, but I hesitate to tell you why. I guess I will go ahead and say it, in case Laura, Rebecca, or Courtenay is reading this…. I love the fountain because it was in the Lizzie McGuire Movie. I can’t believe I just said that. But seriously, I have loved that movie since eighth grade and because of it, I always wanted to visit Rome. It looks just like it does in the movie, except the shops that are pictured in front of the fountain in the movie look surprisingly like a different row of shops altogether. There’s Hollywood for you.
I ate gnocchi, Italian potato pasta, for dinner. Gnocchi is really good but really dense, and it’s one of those dishes that is best eaten in small proportions. We walked around Rome till dark, got some gelato (I bet you didn’t see that coming!), and went back to our hotel. All I can say is, I slept very good that night!
Monday, October 12, 2009
Italia Day One
When I was fourteen, I read a book called The Flames of Rome, which captured my imagination and had me thinking about nothing else besides Nero and the Coliseum for days. Even before then, I read a book about some Roman school kids solving a murder mystery, and I envisioned myself trudging down the Appian Way and the Via Sacra. I never believed for a single minute that I would ever see Rome, let alone walk down the very streets I had read about as a child. I guess that is why this trip meant so much to me. I think that in some way I am probably not even fully aware of, I will always view history in a different light because of our group trip to Italy.
We left on Saturday the third and took a night train to Rome. I had never been on a train before, let alone spent the night on one, and my first trip was quite an experience. I really felt like I was on the Polar Express or Harry Potter (so many literary correlations to be made). The couchettes really are tiny, just like in the movies, and we slept in bunks. On later trips we will not be taking couchettes, simply because they cost an extra forty-five Euro, but I am glad we got to experience them for one night. We sat up for a while talking with our professor and our travel guide, and then we went to bed pretty early.
For me, the craziest part of the train experience was waking up in an entirely different country than the one I went to bed in. As soon as we stepped out of the station, Roberta was waiting to greet us. She was less than five feet tall and probably old enough to be my great-grandmother, but she had more energy than any of us. Roberta’s job was to help us discover the city of Rome, and with waving flag in hand (we couldn’t actually see her from behind when walking in a crowd, so the flag was a definite necessity), she marched us first to the Baths of Caracalla.
The Baths of Caracalla are some of the most extensive ruins in Rome. I think public baths are one of the main points teachers emphasize when talking about ancient Rome, so I had some preconceived and very wrong ideas about what the baths would and wouldn’t look like. I knew there were three main pools of water: the frigidarium (cold water), the tepidarium (tepid water), and the calidarium (hot water). In my mind, I was picturing three Olympic-sized swimming pools. However, though the actual building itself is huge, with spaces for a gymnasium and a library, the pools themselves are pretty small. There was one bigger swimming pool, but it definitely could not accommodate the hundreds of people I had originally envisioned.
Then we went to the Coliseum. I almost wet my pants when I saw it. I had never thought about the Coliseum being a beautiful structure before- I had only thought of it as ancient. It really is breath-taking though. And big. VERY big. The fact that two thousand years ago the Romans had built basically the equivalent of any of our modern stadiums, only without electricity, resonated with me for the first time. It just goes to show that there is nothing new under the sun. We post-modern Americans really aren’t so smart after all.
There is a wooden cross standing on one end of the Coliseum, near the bottom floor. I think you understand without me babbling further.
After the Coliseum, we went to the Roman forum. Once the cultural and religious hub of the city, the forum is now only broken temple columns and large building stones. It might sound retarded, but my favorite part of the forum was standing on the Via Sacra (because I had read about it) and drinking water from a spigot there which came straight from the ancient aqueducts. For some reason, standing there drinking that water, I really understood where I was for the first time.
Then we went to the Pantheon, by far my favorite building of all time. Ok maybe that is an exaggeration, but not a big one. The Pantheon was once a temple dedicated to multiple gods, but now it is a church. I loved its massive domed top, so tall that rain drops evaporate before they hit the floor. The interior is lovely without being tacky or overly decorated. Raphael is buried there. I could have sat in the Pantheon for hours on end, but I didn’t. Instead I went and got some pizza and the best gelato of my life (which is saying something, because gelato in Austria is not exactly a bad thing).
We rested in the hotel for a little while, and then we ate a three course Italian dinner, which I loved. Italian food is absolutely fantastic, about twenty times better than Austrian food. Italians serve pasta as a sort of appetizer, and then they bring the meal. We had bread and outstanding pasta, followed by roast chicken and potatos. Then they brought us a terrible salad adorned with a salt, vinegar, and olive oil dressing. I have learned that Italian dressing is apparently a myth concocted by either Kraft foods or the Olive Garden, because in Italy the only dressing they use is the formula described above. We ended our meal with gelato. I am ashamed to say this, but I ate gelato twice almost every day I was in Italy. There. I have confessed, so please don’t judge.
End of day one, only seven more to go. If you read this far, congratulations!
We left on Saturday the third and took a night train to Rome. I had never been on a train before, let alone spent the night on one, and my first trip was quite an experience. I really felt like I was on the Polar Express or Harry Potter (so many literary correlations to be made). The couchettes really are tiny, just like in the movies, and we slept in bunks. On later trips we will not be taking couchettes, simply because they cost an extra forty-five Euro, but I am glad we got to experience them for one night. We sat up for a while talking with our professor and our travel guide, and then we went to bed pretty early.
For me, the craziest part of the train experience was waking up in an entirely different country than the one I went to bed in. As soon as we stepped out of the station, Roberta was waiting to greet us. She was less than five feet tall and probably old enough to be my great-grandmother, but she had more energy than any of us. Roberta’s job was to help us discover the city of Rome, and with waving flag in hand (we couldn’t actually see her from behind when walking in a crowd, so the flag was a definite necessity), she marched us first to the Baths of Caracalla.
The Baths of Caracalla are some of the most extensive ruins in Rome. I think public baths are one of the main points teachers emphasize when talking about ancient Rome, so I had some preconceived and very wrong ideas about what the baths would and wouldn’t look like. I knew there were three main pools of water: the frigidarium (cold water), the tepidarium (tepid water), and the calidarium (hot water). In my mind, I was picturing three Olympic-sized swimming pools. However, though the actual building itself is huge, with spaces for a gymnasium and a library, the pools themselves are pretty small. There was one bigger swimming pool, but it definitely could not accommodate the hundreds of people I had originally envisioned.
Then we went to the Coliseum. I almost wet my pants when I saw it. I had never thought about the Coliseum being a beautiful structure before- I had only thought of it as ancient. It really is breath-taking though. And big. VERY big. The fact that two thousand years ago the Romans had built basically the equivalent of any of our modern stadiums, only without electricity, resonated with me for the first time. It just goes to show that there is nothing new under the sun. We post-modern Americans really aren’t so smart after all.
There is a wooden cross standing on one end of the Coliseum, near the bottom floor. I think you understand without me babbling further.
After the Coliseum, we went to the Roman forum. Once the cultural and religious hub of the city, the forum is now only broken temple columns and large building stones. It might sound retarded, but my favorite part of the forum was standing on the Via Sacra (because I had read about it) and drinking water from a spigot there which came straight from the ancient aqueducts. For some reason, standing there drinking that water, I really understood where I was for the first time.
Then we went to the Pantheon, by far my favorite building of all time. Ok maybe that is an exaggeration, but not a big one. The Pantheon was once a temple dedicated to multiple gods, but now it is a church. I loved its massive domed top, so tall that rain drops evaporate before they hit the floor. The interior is lovely without being tacky or overly decorated. Raphael is buried there. I could have sat in the Pantheon for hours on end, but I didn’t. Instead I went and got some pizza and the best gelato of my life (which is saying something, because gelato in Austria is not exactly a bad thing).
We rested in the hotel for a little while, and then we ate a three course Italian dinner, which I loved. Italian food is absolutely fantastic, about twenty times better than Austrian food. Italians serve pasta as a sort of appetizer, and then they bring the meal. We had bread and outstanding pasta, followed by roast chicken and potatos. Then they brought us a terrible salad adorned with a salt, vinegar, and olive oil dressing. I have learned that Italian dressing is apparently a myth concocted by either Kraft foods or the Olive Garden, because in Italy the only dressing they use is the formula described above. We ended our meal with gelato. I am ashamed to say this, but I ate gelato twice almost every day I was in Italy. There. I have confessed, so please don’t judge.
End of day one, only seven more to go. If you read this far, congratulations!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Choir Rehearsal
Wednesday night Kathryn-Claire and I went to choir rehearsal at the Augustinerkirche church. I was honestly nervous about the whole thing... the thought of showing up in some random choir to sing with a bunch of people who speak German was slightly overwhelming, but on the other hand I figured we had nothing to lose. After all, if something goes really badly over here as far as social interaction is concerned, I know that I will be out of here in three monthes and it won't matter anyway.
So we went, and I am so glad we did. We got there early, well before any of the other choir members, except one elderly woman who told us in broken English that she sang tenor. As soon as more members began to drift in, I felt at ease. One man was particularly welcoming and explained some of the procedures to us, and I sat next to a very kind woman in the soprano section who did her best to help me keep up with a rehearsal conducted in German. The repertoire we sang was predominantly in Latin, with a few German pieces thrown in, and it consisted of various Christmas songs and carols. Many of them I had never heard before, but some such as "Silent Night" and "O Come All Ye Faithful," though sung in German, were like familiar friends.
The rehearsal lasted two and a half hours, but it didn't feel long at all. After the rehearsal the director asked Kathryn-Claire and I to sing a few scales on our own (I'm assuming so that he could make sure we aren't tone-deaf). Then he invited us to eat downstairs with the choir. There was fruit and bread and cheese and everyone was talking and laughing and passing around plates. They really are like a big family. I felt right at home, which is saying a lot I think, considering the circumstances. We met a girl named Katrin, a student our age who is studying at the University of Wien. I liked her immediately and we had a great time talking about everything from movies to cultural differences between Europe and America. Hopefully we will be able to travel with her one weekend, and I think that will be an amazing experience.
I am becoming aware of the differences in interaction between strangers in the southern U.S.A. and here in Wien. I have noticed that we southern girls are extremely friendly right off the bat, while the Viennese are very reserved and don't want to share their intimate private lives with us. For example, both our German teacher and our travel guide have been very vague when we have asked them about their familes, and they usually try to change the subject as soon as possible. Kathryn-Claire asked the choir director about his little daughter, to which he replied, "Is that a normal question for you?" Here one's professional life and one's private life are two completely separate ideas, and we are learning not to ask what we would think to be standard questions about the lives of the people we meet here. As we develop relationships with these people, it becomes easier to talk with them, but on the outset personal questions are a bad idea.
I still cannot believe that I sang with a choir in Vienna, even for just one night. Our travel schedules will make singing there often difficult, but I hope to sing there whenever I am in town, as long as the director will allow it. He did not seem too pleased by our scheduling conflicts, as most choir directors would not be. However, those two and a half hours were worth millions to me. And anyways I am now an auditioned and officially registered member of the choir, so surely we will be able to sing again...
So we went, and I am so glad we did. We got there early, well before any of the other choir members, except one elderly woman who told us in broken English that she sang tenor. As soon as more members began to drift in, I felt at ease. One man was particularly welcoming and explained some of the procedures to us, and I sat next to a very kind woman in the soprano section who did her best to help me keep up with a rehearsal conducted in German. The repertoire we sang was predominantly in Latin, with a few German pieces thrown in, and it consisted of various Christmas songs and carols. Many of them I had never heard before, but some such as "Silent Night" and "O Come All Ye Faithful," though sung in German, were like familiar friends.
The rehearsal lasted two and a half hours, but it didn't feel long at all. After the rehearsal the director asked Kathryn-Claire and I to sing a few scales on our own (I'm assuming so that he could make sure we aren't tone-deaf). Then he invited us to eat downstairs with the choir. There was fruit and bread and cheese and everyone was talking and laughing and passing around plates. They really are like a big family. I felt right at home, which is saying a lot I think, considering the circumstances. We met a girl named Katrin, a student our age who is studying at the University of Wien. I liked her immediately and we had a great time talking about everything from movies to cultural differences between Europe and America. Hopefully we will be able to travel with her one weekend, and I think that will be an amazing experience.
I am becoming aware of the differences in interaction between strangers in the southern U.S.A. and here in Wien. I have noticed that we southern girls are extremely friendly right off the bat, while the Viennese are very reserved and don't want to share their intimate private lives with us. For example, both our German teacher and our travel guide have been very vague when we have asked them about their familes, and they usually try to change the subject as soon as possible. Kathryn-Claire asked the choir director about his little daughter, to which he replied, "Is that a normal question for you?" Here one's professional life and one's private life are two completely separate ideas, and we are learning not to ask what we would think to be standard questions about the lives of the people we meet here. As we develop relationships with these people, it becomes easier to talk with them, but on the outset personal questions are a bad idea.
I still cannot believe that I sang with a choir in Vienna, even for just one night. Our travel schedules will make singing there often difficult, but I hope to sing there whenever I am in town, as long as the director will allow it. He did not seem too pleased by our scheduling conflicts, as most choir directors would not be. However, those two and a half hours were worth millions to me. And anyways I am now an auditioned and officially registered member of the choir, so surely we will be able to sing again...
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