I am sure it appears that I earned the first National Endowment for the Humanities Seminar grant to study the intersection of culinary arts and social group formation. I certainly enjoyed the food of Tuscany and Umbria and spared you all many details of medieval life, Franciscan art and the life of St. Francis. I make no apologies; food is a great love of mine and these regions are a couple of the world’s finest for eating. And I discovered that I may be more of a foodie than I thought. I indulged, no doubt, in some of the world’s great food with near-reckless abandon. Writing about food is also a great deal of fun; it’s meant to be shared.
But there was a lot more to this summer than culinary debauchery. And it will take me far more than a weekend to fully figure out what it all was. In fact, I suspect it will be many, many years before I fully understand all that it meant to me. I do know now a few things:
- I am intensely interested in big, epistemological questions. I desperately wanted to finish the sources on Francis and get to their meaning for us today. Here’s a guy who has been dead for 800 years and still has resonance for us today. But how and why? What can we learn from a guy who gave up all his wealth to live a life of poverty and austerity? Did that bring him any closer to holiness, oneness, or peace? Did his avoidance of women make him any more committed to his god? Did his severe self-deprivation allow him any special insight? Is living like the poor at all similar to helping them? Is living an austere life really creating any change? Was he really interested in creating structural or societal change, or was he most consumed with bringing himself closer to his god? Did he really want to be a living rebuke of authority, or was he willing to follow authority? Are those mutually exclusive ideas? I think I have some partial answers for some of these, no answers for others. My partial answers actually led me farther away from admiration for Francis, and that was disappointing and strange to deal with. I have come around to restoring some admiration, largely through what I perceive to be a very real connection with the natural world, a commitment to standing up for those less fortunate, and a commitment to peace, even if that is only implied. I will continue to struggle with how he dealt with authority and reform only because I’d like to see his approach similar to mine – and that’s my issue, not his. I wish we had had greater opportunity to explore these ideas, but from a teachers’ point of view, this can be challenging. Discussion of these sorts of questions have no clear answers, have multitudes of textual support for all viewpoints, and have no ending in sight. You would have to be a cat wrangler to guide 15 brilliant minds through the conversation without losing it all. Still, I would have liked more of such analysis.
- I was also struck by the clear similarities between Francis’ approach and some Eastern viewpoints and experiences. When Francis says he finds pleasure, contentment, joy or wonderment in everything – the wolf, worm or bunny, the cloudy days, thorny bushes or perfect sunsets – he is referring to a healthy form of contentment quite similar to Zen’s satori. Leaving a life of comfort and wealth to live a life of poverty is parallel to the experience of Siddartha Gautama, the Buddha. So the questions arise for me… What are the universal spiritual ideas? Are there archetypal religious experiences? Is there worth for someone to pursue explanation of these universal truths and experiences? Why do people get bogged down in the details, even go to war over them, when the essence of their beliefs are the same? That is where I get cynical, even offensive, by pointing out that the essence of Christianity, for example, is that Jesus is God on earth, not the Sermon on the Mount and nutty ideas like loving your enemy, clothing the poor, feeding the hungry, or actually living in any particular way…. Just believe and be saved. All those ideas just become inconvenient to peoples’ daily behaviors. So how could we move the religious thought and dialogue to more discussion of how to live one’s daily life. I’d contend there’s not much you can prove or know about a potential diety, after-life or next-life, so we’d better live a pretty good one now and not waste our time debating what we can’t know.
- I discovered that I need to completely revamp my teaching of Medieval European art, and all art more generally. I have the equivalent of an art history minor plagued with a similar analytical approach – look at technique, tools and materials throughout Western art leading to the diversity of 20th century expression. But Bill Cook brought to art history an outsider-historian’s eyes that looked at content instead. The result was that Bill teased the stories out and built a narrative of the Franciscan experience over its first couple centuries. To look at art was to be engaged in story-telling, not evolution of technique. I found this refreshing and genuinely fun. Furthermore, this approach is what could make looking at art far more fun for teenagers. It also ties directly to skills that our students must develop in our hyper-visual modern world. We all have to become skilled at recognizing the choices a producer makes in presenting us any visual. But so often we just consume the image unquestioningly. A visual – painting or movie, etc. - must be consumed with the same critical reading that a text deserves. By looking at the textual sources and the Franciscan visuals over the course of the 13th century and just after allowed us to see the choices artists and writers had to make. Why did one story make it onto a dossal and not another? Why did an artist choose to illustrate the landscape in that manner? What larger political/ social/ economic/ religious point may they be trying to make?
- I discovered a real fascination with the relationship between Francis and Lady Jacoba. Among his rules for the friars was to have no contact with women unless absolutely necessary for penance and communion. He, like many of his time, believed women provided a potential distraction that could draw a man away from his commitment to God and Lady Poverty. At one point Francis says he did not know any women and would only recognize two, Lady Jacoba of Rome and Clara or Chiara of Assisi. But near the end of his life we get a glimpse of a different side of him. He had some sort of unexplained, unclear relationship with a woman known as Lady Jacoba, a wealthy, widowed Third Order Franciscan. In various sources we have suggestions of three incidents of their interaction. In one, Francis visits Rome for the Fourth Lateran Council and is assigned to stay at her house. She makes him a special cookie or marzipan. At some point, Francis sends to her a lamb as a gift. This lamb becomes her constant companion, even attending mass and communion with her. In the final, Francis sends for her in Rome to visit his death bed in Assisi. Little does he realize, she is already entering the city as if called by intuition; Franciscans would call this a miracle. She has his favorite cookie and he shortly thereafter passes away. When she dies she ends up entombed in the crypt across from Francis in the Basilica of Assisi. I am struck by the implied tenderness of their relationship. It is clear they care deeply for one another, but there is something different. How does Francis virtually deny the existence of women, even calling Lady Jacoba Brother Jacoba, but have such a tender relationship with her? And I don’t think it can be identified as familial, and certainly not romantic… so what’s up?
- The next time I do some sort of summer travel/educational experience it will not be for six weeks unless I bring Kristy or the Dalai Lama, Barack Obama, or John Lennon is leading it. Six weeks was just too painfully long to be away from home. It will not be to a place I know and love; it must be to a place well outside my comfort zone so as to challenge myself much more. Walking a lot up and down hills must be part of it, as I will eat the local culture and must be able to still lose weight, as I miraculously (was that a Franciscan posthumous miracle, dossal-ready?) did this summer. And it must be to someplace cheap… maybe.
- I was strangely quiet from 8:45 to noon most days and rarely shut up after that. Not sure why. I need to spend time contemplating the morning sessions, community formation, personality traits, intellectual engagement, questioning, assertiveness, and pedagogy.
- I have amazing colleagues. Every time I leave town to do anything with teachers and/or schools I return home so proud to teach at Hickman. Sure, we have our fair share of challenges, but we deal with them so well (mostly). And the expectations are intimidatingly high. And we are all better teachers and people because of it. Our community and students get to benefit, though let’s be clear – they are getting a bargain! But I genuinely believe that every large department in the school has half a dozen teachers that would be star teachers in any other place I have seen. The vast majority of the teachers I work with are NEH-worthy. At HHS renewal, revamping, reflection leading to change and greater challenge is part of what we do. We also have great support from administration and community. Trust me, all things are relative, and we are fortunate. I still say that I teach in Mayberry.
- I have the best friends a man could ask for. Numerous times this summer I thought about my lunch crowd and others, in Columbia and elsewhere. I am so lucky to be surrounded by a multitude of friends with similar interests in both life and profession. Having friends with whom you can be yourself – good, bad and ugly – is a gift. If they are also committed and incredible colleagues who fully expect that everyone do things like an NEH, all the better. Friends like that make you a better person.
- I wish I had spent even more time with Bill Cook. I feel like we had a lot in common, which ought to scare him. At the end I discovered that he is a Mortimer Adler/Great Books guy. When I started teaching, I was too and still have a strong commitment to the idea. I want to discuss more. His commitment to raising good young people is palpable, and I want to know more. His humor and storytelling are addicting; I want to write his book.
- Bill said two things in the final days that are worth keeping in mind...
****“Teachers are American heroes.” I cannot express how wonderful it is to be told this by someone who is not in the same environment every day. Sure, he’s a college professor, so he gets a good taste of what we deal with. But he genuinely believes in what we do. Thanks, Bill
****“Good teachers are subversive.” Amen. We have to fight the stronger currents of the world around us. We have to frequently fight bureaucracies with other concerns. We have to fight through jungles to get into to our students’ heads sometimes. Bill and others, if you haven’t already, grab copies of Neil Postman’s Teaching as a Subversive Activity and the follow-up, Teaching and a Conserving Activity. And click on the link to Subversive Teaching over there on the right.
- I left with three books brewing in my head, and I return with six – not counting helping Bill record all his crazy stories.
- And without getting all mushy… Damn, I missed Kristy!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Journey Home
Friday
After being awaken by the neighborhood trash collection, I was off to the train station to get out to the airport. In these situations I always feel bad for the locals. They’re on their way to work and their train car gets mobbed daily by clueless tourists carrying too much luggage with no clue how to move out of the way. And I always feel like I am one of them. But while a few tourists got barked at, I was mysteriously left alone. I think by the end of this six weeks I really did manage to blend in and appear at least more local than most.
After an hour on the train and another hour getting from the train to my gate, it was nearly ready to board. But not until I got a chance to take in the views of the gate area and wonder what I was on my way home to. There was the family wearing matching Bermuda shorts with polos and flip flops, the teenage girl with her Roma baseball hat cocked to one side like she’s LL Cool J or something. The families chatting about what they saw and did as if they were going home from EPCOT…. Not a word about culture, no food, no chance meetings with locals, no walking neighborhoods – seemingly no learning…but they saw a lot of sights and saw five countries in 12 days! The teenage girl announcing to everyone within 50 feet that she was now enjoying her last roll with cheese before getting back to the States for a “real” breakfast. The family complaining to another about the guards at the Sistine Chapel asking people to be quiet and not take pictures. “I can understand no flash. I guess the flash might damage the paint or something. But why are they so uptight about talking. I mean, who cares?” The best part of the airport?…as the ticket agent took boarding passes and said thank you to everyone in front of me, he said grazie to me!
The flight wasn’t too bad. I did some writing, started a book that wasn’t about Francis, snoozed briefly and listened to a lot of punk. We ate twice on board…wish I hadn’t. Awful overcooked ravioli in super-sweatened red sauce with pasta salad with gritty herbes and later a sandwich with chicken and some mystery cheese.
While doing some writing I was struck by how final this felt. Six weeks is long enough to start feeling quiet comfortable. You have to do laundry and go to the grocery store. You have the time to get a cold and shake it off. You get to recognize townspeople, and they, you. And then suddenly it’s all over. I was thrilled and sad all at once.
Eventually I made it home, through cancelled flights, near confiscation of Mediterranean tuna, torrential downpours, late departures, and a MO-X shuttle I hardly remember. I am thrilled to be back at home with Kristy in our house. I am not so thrilled to have the grocery stores we have here. We need to get a better selection of cured meats and cheeses, liquors, fruits, vegetables…well, everything. That’s not fair. We have an awesome selection of junk food! Saturday morning we needed to get some food. We started at the Farmers’ Market. That was nice. Gerbes? Not so much.
After being awaken by the neighborhood trash collection, I was off to the train station to get out to the airport. In these situations I always feel bad for the locals. They’re on their way to work and their train car gets mobbed daily by clueless tourists carrying too much luggage with no clue how to move out of the way. And I always feel like I am one of them. But while a few tourists got barked at, I was mysteriously left alone. I think by the end of this six weeks I really did manage to blend in and appear at least more local than most.
After an hour on the train and another hour getting from the train to my gate, it was nearly ready to board. But not until I got a chance to take in the views of the gate area and wonder what I was on my way home to. There was the family wearing matching Bermuda shorts with polos and flip flops, the teenage girl with her Roma baseball hat cocked to one side like she’s LL Cool J or something. The families chatting about what they saw and did as if they were going home from EPCOT…. Not a word about culture, no food, no chance meetings with locals, no walking neighborhoods – seemingly no learning…but they saw a lot of sights and saw five countries in 12 days! The teenage girl announcing to everyone within 50 feet that she was now enjoying her last roll with cheese before getting back to the States for a “real” breakfast. The family complaining to another about the guards at the Sistine Chapel asking people to be quiet and not take pictures. “I can understand no flash. I guess the flash might damage the paint or something. But why are they so uptight about talking. I mean, who cares?” The best part of the airport?…as the ticket agent took boarding passes and said thank you to everyone in front of me, he said grazie to me!
The flight wasn’t too bad. I did some writing, started a book that wasn’t about Francis, snoozed briefly and listened to a lot of punk. We ate twice on board…wish I hadn’t. Awful overcooked ravioli in super-sweatened red sauce with pasta salad with gritty herbes and later a sandwich with chicken and some mystery cheese.
While doing some writing I was struck by how final this felt. Six weeks is long enough to start feeling quiet comfortable. You have to do laundry and go to the grocery store. You have the time to get a cold and shake it off. You get to recognize townspeople, and they, you. And then suddenly it’s all over. I was thrilled and sad all at once.
Eventually I made it home, through cancelled flights, near confiscation of Mediterranean tuna, torrential downpours, late departures, and a MO-X shuttle I hardly remember. I am thrilled to be back at home with Kristy in our house. I am not so thrilled to have the grocery stores we have here. We need to get a better selection of cured meats and cheeses, liquors, fruits, vegetables…well, everything. That’s not fair. We have an awesome selection of junk food! Saturday morning we needed to get some food. We started at the Farmers’ Market. That was nice. Gerbes? Not so much.
The Final Day
Thursday
Today was the last day of the seminar. We spent quite a bit of time sharing our individual writing projects. Some people really are thinking outside the box, and I hope I get to see what they produce. Everyone clearly was affected in intellectual and emotional ways. I am doing some writing on how the Francis story has become a work or works of literature intended to make Francis into a hero. I suppose that is essentially a hagiography, which we know was the point. But I am seeing many elements of Joseph Campbell’s heroic quest archetype. So I will be explaining how the Francis stories fulfill an ancient story-telling pattern that binds Francis with such literary heroes as Gilgamesh, Odysseus, Beowulf and Luke Skywalker. I will be interweaving some comparison of how the lives if Francis and Siddartha Gautama (the Buddha) share many of these elements. I can’t help but wonder if perhaps there isn’t a Heroic Religious Quest archetype. What Campbell have to say? Did he already make this suggestion?
After wrapping up a few loose ends and fielding some questions, Bill left us the most appropriate way he could…Pace e Bene! Peace and Goodwill. And with a few quick goodbyes, I was on my way to Roma, the Eternal City.
After a very hot and sweaty walk and bus ride I caught my breath at the stazzione. I tuned into some music – haven’t listened to much in these six weeks - and started to make the transition home. Anyone who has spent time overseas in a culture in which they felt comfortable, safe, and in-tune finds quite a jolt going back to the States, particularly if there are cultural elements back there that are challenging. This is nothing new to me; this was my seventh European trip in the last ten years. I anticipate some real challenge going back. Best to get myself psyched up for it now.
In Roma I stayed with Annie. We ran around doing some last minute shopping and grabbing a small bite to eat. We went to a new restaurant in the Hotel Majestic on Via Veneto. Simply elegant, right from the front door. We sat out on a gorgeous patio high above Veneto and waited for the chef/owner, Filippo La Mantia, to come say hello (http://www.filippolamantia.com/ or http://www.rome-hotels-majestic.com/modulo_news/5852_Filippo_La_Mantia_and_his_cuisine.htm?id_sezione=1849). La Mantia is from Sicily and has quite a life story. He is also the very definition of a suave, elegant Sicilian. A kiss on the cheek for Annie, a handshake for me, and we were off to the kitchen for a brief tour. I have seen a few kitchens in person and on TV and this one is one of the best
I have seen. Brightly lit, huge workspaces, wide walkways. Impeccably clean. Back to the patio, and with La Mantia’s suggestions, we began to eat. A couple glasses of a Sicilian white wine, a dish of smoked tuna and swordfish carpaccio, a layered-eggplant dish reminiscent of ratatouille with pignoli and pistachio, rolled and stuffed swordfish, and fried octopus. All of it both wonderfully prepared and presented. A quick picture of Annie with La Mantia, and we were on our way. If you are in Rome and want a very elegant dinner and brought the clothes and the credit cards, have dinner here.
Next, we were off to the enoteca for some wine and the neighborhood pizzeria for garlic cloves and foccacia and back to Annie’s for the rest of dinner. I know, you’re wondering why all these meals have so many courses. If you want great food and you want to enjoy and savor all sorts of flavors, why not eat more small portions rather than the oversized portions we serve in the States. There’s so much more to eating than quantity!
Annie whipped up some clams and mussels followed by a Sicilian style pasta dish with eggplant and tomatoes and we sat on her balcony and enjoyed a last evening in Rome. We talked about friends, emailed a few, called one dear one, laughed, analyzed Italian culture, and laughed some more. Dessert…her home-made limoncello. I am stealing the recipe.
Today was the last day of the seminar. We spent quite a bit of time sharing our individual writing projects. Some people really are thinking outside the box, and I hope I get to see what they produce. Everyone clearly was affected in intellectual and emotional ways. I am doing some writing on how the Francis story has become a work or works of literature intended to make Francis into a hero. I suppose that is essentially a hagiography, which we know was the point. But I am seeing many elements of Joseph Campbell’s heroic quest archetype. So I will be explaining how the Francis stories fulfill an ancient story-telling pattern that binds Francis with such literary heroes as Gilgamesh, Odysseus, Beowulf and Luke Skywalker. I will be interweaving some comparison of how the lives if Francis and Siddartha Gautama (the Buddha) share many of these elements. I can’t help but wonder if perhaps there isn’t a Heroic Religious Quest archetype. What Campbell have to say? Did he already make this suggestion?
After wrapping up a few loose ends and fielding some questions, Bill left us the most appropriate way he could…Pace e Bene! Peace and Goodwill. And with a few quick goodbyes, I was on my way to Roma, the Eternal City.
After a very hot and sweaty walk and bus ride I caught my breath at the stazzione. I tuned into some music – haven’t listened to much in these six weeks - and started to make the transition home. Anyone who has spent time overseas in a culture in which they felt comfortable, safe, and in-tune finds quite a jolt going back to the States, particularly if there are cultural elements back there that are challenging. This is nothing new to me; this was my seventh European trip in the last ten years. I anticipate some real challenge going back. Best to get myself psyched up for it now.
In Roma I stayed with Annie. We ran around doing some last minute shopping and grabbing a small bite to eat. We went to a new restaurant in the Hotel Majestic on Via Veneto. Simply elegant, right from the front door. We sat out on a gorgeous patio high above Veneto and waited for the chef/owner, Filippo La Mantia, to come say hello (http://www.filippolamantia.com/ or http://www.rome-hotels-majestic.com/modulo_news/5852_Filippo_La_Mantia_and_his_cuisine.htm?id_sezione=1849). La Mantia is from Sicily and has quite a life story. He is also the very definition of a suave, elegant Sicilian. A kiss on the cheek for Annie, a handshake for me, and we were off to the kitchen for a brief tour. I have seen a few kitchens in person and on TV and this one is one of the best
I have seen. Brightly lit, huge workspaces, wide walkways. Impeccably clean. Back to the patio, and with La Mantia’s suggestions, we began to eat. A couple glasses of a Sicilian white wine, a dish of smoked tuna and swordfish carpaccio, a layered-eggplant dish reminiscent of ratatouille with pignoli and pistachio, rolled and stuffed swordfish, and fried octopus. All of it both wonderfully prepared and presented. A quick picture of Annie with La Mantia, and we were on our way. If you are in Rome and want a very elegant dinner and brought the clothes and the credit cards, have dinner here.Next, we were off to the enoteca for some wine and the neighborhood pizzeria for garlic cloves and foccacia and back to Annie’s for the rest of dinner. I know, you’re wondering why all these meals have so many courses. If you want great food and you want to enjoy and savor all sorts of flavors, why not eat more small portions rather than the oversized portions we serve in the States. There’s so much more to eating than quantity!
Annie whipped up some clams and mussels followed by a Sicilian style pasta dish with eggplant and tomatoes and we sat on her balcony and enjoyed a last evening in Rome. We talked about friends, emailed a few, called one dear one, laughed, analyzed Italian culture, and laughed some more. Dessert…her home-made limoncello. I am stealing the recipe.
Final Banquet
Wednesday
Today we had seminar, but most minds were on a night function, our banquet at Ristorante Le Casaline, run by Benedetto and Patrizia Zeppadore, near Spoleto. There were gifts to acquire, songs to write, tributes and toasts to script. On the way we stopped at Nocera Umbra, a town decimated in the ’97 earthquake and now seeing fruits of recovery, including a small, but very nice museum. The highlight, a crucifix in a style we have seen many times. The surprise, it’s mounted as it would have been, high above the alter as if floating in the air. Gorgeous.
But let’s get to dinner. Le Casaline sits in the middle of agricultural land, acres and acres of olive groves mostly. When we get out I feel surprisingly at home…clean air, trees, scrubby grass and across the yard….chickens, geese, a couple turkeys. I make a b-line to go check out future dinners. There are chickens everywhere, scratching under trees, running up a trail into the woods…chickens of all colors…running…with space…eating bugs….being chickens. What a concept. I can tell you right now, I had no chicken here, but I know they would taste infinitely better than what any of can see in a grocery store in the States. And though Kristy and I don’t (yet) have chickens, this place just felt like home…like the goats and rooster down the street I hear in my backyard sometimes or the cows up Hatton Chapel I can hear if the wind blows right. I really love a city. I’d happily sell the car, downsize and depend on public transit and walk and enjoy the rhythms and insanity of urban life. But being here reminded me of a very small part of me that might just like rural Missouri. Don’t tell anyone.
Let’s get to the food. We began with proseco for everyone and a few hors d’oeuvres on the patio. Prosciutto thinly sliced right in front of us with an apparatus you only see in places serious about prosciutto (read: All of Italy). A pastry beautifully buttered and wrapped around a cinghiale sausage…seriously, folks…pigs in a blanket?! Really? This little pastry could (may have) brought a grown man to his knees. I actually felt an artery solidify just smelling it. Platters of bruschetta with liver pate, a standard that never gets old…and this was mouth-watering. Platters of the lightest, most delicate rosemary bread…a taste of summer.
Then we moved to the tables under the tent. First round could have been the last and I would die a happy man. Sit…down….now…ready??? Deep fried, lightly-battered, whole zucchini blossoms. If you have never heard of such thing it’s time to book a trip to Italy. The blossom really is stout enough to stand up to a light fry. And they taste like nothing you have ever experienced. Next round, gnocchi with saffron bread with pistachio. Those are some delicate but unmistakable flavors, and they worked wonders together.
Then the meal took a turn than would really require you to be there to fully appreciate. And if you are a vegetarian, stop reading now. If you are prudish, stop reading now. The next dish was water buffalo carpaccio with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, red cabbage, and mushrooms. Carpaccio simply means thin-sliced and raw. This was like little I have ever had. One of our quieter, dryer, soft-spoken participants put it well when he exclaimed with a loud sigh, “This is erotic!” Then a faro salad; faro is similar to barley and this tasted so bright, fresh and crisp it was a perfect cleanser for this point. But then it ramped up again to pecorino bread with salt pork, similar to prosciutto. Perfetto. But then came the cured meat piece de resistance…lamb prosciutto. If you closed your eyes and put a piece of it right up to your nose, rubbed the underside of your nose with it, you would swear you were in the field with the very lamb who gave her life for this delicacy. I have never smelled anything like it. In fact, and it’s confusing and stressful to say this, I almost didn’t want to eat it. I didn’t want the smell to end. Annie…this needs to be bottled!!!
But then something I would never order, would never dream of, not in my worst nightmares. They called it pate negra….white chocolate puff with black prosciutto. Now I know Black prosciutto is a unique delicacy, but putting it with a white chocolate-flavored puff pastry just seems so wrong. I took a bite. Consider me humbled. All I could do was stare trying to comprehend this. But then came a perfect little cube of lightly seared creamy polenta with deer sausage and a sauce of lemon and calvados. All the elements were incredible…the polenta was the best I have had. The deer sausage melted in your mouth and the teaming of lemon and calvados, apple brandy, was inspired.
The next dish I smelled coming from over 50 feet away. I felt like Scooby Doo turning with an ear up, knowing something was going on. In came the linguini with truffles that smelled like the woods and dirt. That’s a good thing, an earthy, raw, damn near phermonic smell. What would the world be without truffles. What would I be?!
Then the best gnocchi I have ever put in my mouth. Soft pillows that melted in your mouth covered with a red sauce of castrated pig. Sure, I feel bad for the little guy, but he’s really done great work with his life!
Then we hit the animalistic, carnivorous coup de grace – meter-long skewers filled top to bottom with meat. Pork loin, sausage, beef and a chunk of liver that may quite possibly be the most rich, creamy, tender, obnoxious simple meat I have ever eaten. It still had fat on it, not all cleaned up and standardized like the liver we get in the States. And the flavor and texture…profound.
I had the unique opportunity (it came out for our lone vegetarian…The horror! The horror!) to try scarmorzia….smoked mozzarella. Wow! We need to learn how to cook chunks of cheese without a jalapeno skin or a vat of grease.
I had the unique opportunity (it came out for our lone vegetarian…The horror! The horror!) to try scarmorzia….smoked mozzarella. Wow! We need to learn how to cook chunks of cheese without a jalapeno skin or a vat of grease.
Ready for dessert right? Before a meat coma set in we were force fed a lovely and delicate mold of blackberries, currants, and blueberries and whipped cream. Then they got a forklift and put us in the bus.
Gubbio and La Verna
Tuesday
Today was our last site visit. The first stop was Gubbio, a very small Umbrian hill town. As we entered the town we saw the ancient Roman amphitheater nestled on the hill. It must have been an incredible place to goto a show…1800 years ago. Once in town we visited…wait for it…the church of San Francesco. The apse here has frescoes that are close copies of the lower basilica in Assisi. The building itself also some weird vaulting…not quite groin, not quite barrel. Most interesting to me in Gubbio is the story of the wolf.
Today was our last site visit. The first stop was Gubbio, a very small Umbrian hill town. As we entered the town we saw the ancient Roman amphitheater nestled on the hill. It must have been an incredible place to goto a show…1800 years ago. Once in town we visited…wait for it…the church of San Francesco. The apse here has frescoes that are close copies of the lower basilica in Assisi. The building itself also some weird vaulting…not quite groin, not quite barrel. Most interesting to me in Gubbio is the story of the wolf.
Once there was a wolf that terrorized the city. People couldn’t wander outside the city walls without fear. Francis heard they were being terrorized by a wolf and responded to there call for help. He found the wolf and spoke with it. Essentially he struck a deal with both the wolf and the townspeople. If the people of the town would see to it that the wolf were always well fed, the wolf would cease attacking people and livestock. The point…and Bonaventure makes this crystal clear…the problem of hunger needed to be solved to solve what the people thought was the problem. Think about that for a moment and consider the time…the early 13th century. Here is Francis suggesting that the problem is not really the “crimes” of the wolf, but his hunger. If the people would just see to it to meet his needs, the problem would be solved. What sort of Leftist was this Francis? How is that now we blame the poor and hungry for being poor and hungry? What would it take to get back to understanding that I am my brothers’ keeper?
But the story gets better. In Assisi at about the same time there was a power struggle the Bishop and the Podesta. Francis adds a couple lines the Canticle of the Creatures that indicate the call for peace. And the question that it all begs…Is a Peace Process just that, a process with certain steps? Or can it be an organic, spontaneous happening?
These stories get back to the Francis that fascinated me. And it’s perfect timing because I will be home in four days; I would like to be reminded of why I was interested in him in the first place and I would still welcome a re-romanticized image of him.
Then we went out to explore. I and a few others ended up at Palazzo Dei Consoli, museo e pinacoteca communale. It’s really just an art museum, a very nice one. But the view from a high balcony was worth the price of admission. We just sat and drank it all in…scenery, the past 5½ weeks, everything. And while there was a way to the top of the mountain tite…and that would provide a great view and fun ride, a couple more churches with great art…we were content to stop and savor. So often tourists just run from one sight to another, eventually getting to see everything. But at the end, have the seen Italy? Have they watched the people and learned anything about Italian families or Italian love? Have they noticed the vegetation or the smells? I suppose there are places that may just be about the sites, but Italy has to be consumed like a great dish or dishes of food…see it, smell it, taste it, stop and savor it before taking another bite and washing it down with something wet. Then start over.
After a lunch of porchetta (I wrote about this weeks ago in Siena) and aqua frizzante (how will I go back to flat water in restaurants? Anyone know a source for Fonte Tullia medio frizzante or Firarrelle in the States?) I grabbed a cornetto ice cream, similar to a drumstick in the States. Why would I do such thing, being a food snob and collector of great ice cream? Story time… When I was a teenager we lived in Luxembourg for three years. As Americans in a foreign land, one of the few places to get an American fix outside of just hanging out with other ex-pats, was to go to the movies. Virtually all the movie theaters showed predominately American movies with French and German subtitles. But the theaters themselves were an experience. Some were huge, larger than anything I have seen in the States. But some were miniscule. I remember one sat less than 50 people. They were beautifully decorated, plush, rich colors and surfaces. The coolest thing…the previews started at the assigned time and frequently ended with a commercial for ice cream featuring the French cartoon Asterix. Then the lights would be turned up and a couple old ladies (That’s the way I saw them. They were probably 39!) would walk into the theater with huge baskets filled with all sorts of ice cream treats, including cornettos. I fell in love with these then and still have a weakness for them. So as I m sitting in a park in central Gubio today eating fatty porchetta, another NEHer shows up eating a cornetto and I wax ecstatic about the theaters in Luxembourg 25 years ago. Shortly thereafter I ran across the street to give myself a flashback to another time. It tasted beautiful!
We left Gubio to head for La Verna. This the mountain top on which it is believed that Francis was visited by a seraph and given or inflicted with the stigmata or the wounds of Jesus Christ. The ride up there was breath-taking, like any ride up a mountain surroun
ded by stunning countryside. Once out of the bus we walked up through the woods on a gorgeous shaded path. Then, in the middle of the woods, near the top of the mountain, we arrived at a collection of buildings – a restaurant, a friary, a few chapels, a large church. The views were stunning from here. I just stood against a wall, sun heating my face, and did some thinking. Once the group reformed we headed down near a collection of caves that have been used for prayer and contemplation since before Francis. We stepped off the trail for a bit to read the stigmata scene from Bonaventure. While I am not religious and certainly not buying into the seraph-inflicted-stigmata story, I don’t think anyone can avoid being overwhelmed by the serenity, silence, and spirituality of the place. After the reading we walked down a long hallway to see a 20th century fresco that outlined the cycle of Francis’s life just as we’ve studied it. The hallway ended in a very small, but incredibly important chapel. On the floor of this chapel is a glass panel, under which it is believed is the spot of rock Francis was praying on when he received the stigmata. It is completely quiet here and tourists are asked not to enter. I saw the sign after the fact. But walking in there, I completely felt like an interloper. I am glad I saw it, but feel like I trampled on the sanctity of the place.
ded by stunning countryside. Once out of the bus we walked up through the woods on a gorgeous shaded path. Then, in the middle of the woods, near the top of the mountain, we arrived at a collection of buildings – a restaurant, a friary, a few chapels, a large church. The views were stunning from here. I just stood against a wall, sun heating my face, and did some thinking. Once the group reformed we headed down near a collection of caves that have been used for prayer and contemplation since before Francis. We stepped off the trail for a bit to read the stigmata scene from Bonaventure. While I am not religious and certainly not buying into the seraph-inflicted-stigmata story, I don’t think anyone can avoid being overwhelmed by the serenity, silence, and spirituality of the place. After the reading we walked down a long hallway to see a 20th century fresco that outlined the cycle of Francis’s life just as we’ve studied it. The hallway ended in a very small, but incredibly important chapel. On the floor of this chapel is a glass panel, under which it is believed is the spot of rock Francis was praying on when he received the stigmata. It is completely quiet here and tourists are asked not to enter. I saw the sign after the fact. But walking in there, I completely felt like an interloper. I am glad I saw it, but feel like I trampled on the sanctity of the place.I next walked down to a cave in which Francis slept on a pillow of stone. Dark, surrounded by stone, cool air, if not cold, blew up from below, in the mountain. A single candle lit the space. Somehow I managed to be here alone, and I will never forget it. If you’ve ever wondered what on earth the phrase “Deafening Silence” could mean, come here. The silence had a way of calling your attention to the slightest rhythm of your breathing or heart. As soon as I heard footsteps coming I left, not wanting to ruin my experience with the place.
Next I chose to go up, way up. Just outside the gates to the courtyard is a staircase that leads up to trails in the woods. Once in the woods trails seems to go every which way. I chose to head left towards a small building with a walled-in yard. My Italian reading isn’t all that great, but I could gather that a friar spent a great deal of time here in the 15th century (I think). I had a seat on the wall and just tried to relax, meditate a little, clear my mind of all thoughts. Eventually a group of French scouts walked through the woods well below me, making sounds like a Disney-cartoon Native American – classy for the setting, uh? – and I retreated…higher. There was another small stone building but I could still hear the Lost Boys so I kept walking. Eventually the trail got steep. I kept going. Finally I reached a point where I could barely hear Peter and the Merry Band and, except for the trees, had a virtually 360 degree view of Tuscany, Umbria, and Emilia-Romagna. I thought to myself, if I don’t make it to the bus, if I just stay here, will the group come looking for me or will they let me stay? I opted not to find out. I thought Grecio a couple weeks ago was a place to be alone with your thoughts. In LaVerna you can even let your thoughts go.
Today went a long, long way to restoring my romanticized image of Francis and allowing me to either overlook, ignore, or find a way to accept what I see as his hypocrisy, extremism, and masochism.
And I fell in love with Italy again.
So I went to Monaci one more time to celebrate that love and because it was my last chance to be there. I repeated the Ghiotta from my first visit. Oh, how I love a runny yolk on a pizza!!!!!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Eccentric Roy
Monday
Seminar today began with stories of adventure over our four day weekend. I thought I had a good one full of adventure and relaxation. But mine was nothing. How about a trip to Warsaw that included a 14 mile round trip walk to see the Treblinka concentration camp – with a crowd of Israeli students “reclaiming” the place? Or a broken down rental car in the middle of nowhere at 1:30am and Hertz won’t do anything till morning…and then they’ll only tow it, not bring another car or give the driver a ride! Or going to a wedding in Kosovo, stay in a nice hotel that lacks a sink or toilet, but has a shower for two and charges by the hour, only to flip your rental car three times, get not a single scratch and be let out of the upside down car to find your tie still on straight! Yeah…I ate well!
My image of Francis earned more depth today, not all good. Consider the meaning of poverty, justice, and charity. Why does Francis, with all his wealth, choose poverty? Is he not denying a life-long opportunity to always give to the poor rather than become poor himself? Does Francis want to take the poor down off the cross (liberation theology/justice) or does he want to get up on the cross with them (charity)? He really isn’t working for structural change. Maybe he just wants to be poor (like Jesus – and just how poor was he?) to identify with them, to be the meek. None of those ideas are mine, but they sure make me pause. I like to think that in my own way, in my own community I work for real, genuine structural change so as to make everyone’s lives better. I am not too convinced that that is what Francis is doing. Then again how much of my wealth goes into my “stuff” and not towards real work for those less fortunate?
Funny interlude from Bill…When the Franciscans get your name for mailings you never get off the list, they will find you anywhere, and then when you turn 60 they send your name to Viagra!
John Calvin…essentially said… The Bible serves as eyeglasses for humans who have been blinded by sin to still learn about how things ought to be. Nature will teach us but we can’t see it – we’re blinded by sin (you who know me well…thought you’d never hear me quote Calvin, uh?) Francis may have been the best reader of nature in Christian history. I think these are interesting, provocative ideas.
Upper basilica in the afternoon after ligting a candle for Kristy’s grandmother in the crypt. A friar lit it for me on the alter at the tomb.
Dinner with Roy Grant (http://www.intouch-travel.com/host_profile/grant_roy or http://www.geocities.com/roy.grant/ - check out the house pics in the second link). Roy has been described as a British eccentric art collector. I think it may say something about me, but I didn’t find him the least bit eccentric. Pretty normal guy in my book. His house on the other hand…small, ancient, including a 2000 year old Roman arch, and charming. The décor…try art museum with no rules, no pretension. We passed some of it around, including an Egyptian scarab ring dating to 1420BC, an angel statuette from the 9th century, a metal engraving over 800 years old. On the walls were icons, parts of sculpture, a crucifix that was from the 13th century, a Limoges enamel trinity from the 17th century, a crucifix pendant over 700 years old. You know, just the sort of trinkets we all have sitting around. Amidst all this art we sat and drank wine, ate cheese, cured meats, fruit…a lovely time. I’ve met few men more gracious, more pleased to entertain than Roy. And the real lesson… work hard and spend your money on what you love, don’t worry about what doesn’t matter to you. Roy will tell you he doesn’t own a car…but the art brings him great joy. If you’re ever in Assisi, look him up.
Seminar today began with stories of adventure over our four day weekend. I thought I had a good one full of adventure and relaxation. But mine was nothing. How about a trip to Warsaw that included a 14 mile round trip walk to see the Treblinka concentration camp – with a crowd of Israeli students “reclaiming” the place? Or a broken down rental car in the middle of nowhere at 1:30am and Hertz won’t do anything till morning…and then they’ll only tow it, not bring another car or give the driver a ride! Or going to a wedding in Kosovo, stay in a nice hotel that lacks a sink or toilet, but has a shower for two and charges by the hour, only to flip your rental car three times, get not a single scratch and be let out of the upside down car to find your tie still on straight! Yeah…I ate well!
My image of Francis earned more depth today, not all good. Consider the meaning of poverty, justice, and charity. Why does Francis, with all his wealth, choose poverty? Is he not denying a life-long opportunity to always give to the poor rather than become poor himself? Does Francis want to take the poor down off the cross (liberation theology/justice) or does he want to get up on the cross with them (charity)? He really isn’t working for structural change. Maybe he just wants to be poor (like Jesus – and just how poor was he?) to identify with them, to be the meek. None of those ideas are mine, but they sure make me pause. I like to think that in my own way, in my own community I work for real, genuine structural change so as to make everyone’s lives better. I am not too convinced that that is what Francis is doing. Then again how much of my wealth goes into my “stuff” and not towards real work for those less fortunate?
Funny interlude from Bill…When the Franciscans get your name for mailings you never get off the list, they will find you anywhere, and then when you turn 60 they send your name to Viagra!
John Calvin…essentially said… The Bible serves as eyeglasses for humans who have been blinded by sin to still learn about how things ought to be. Nature will teach us but we can’t see it – we’re blinded by sin (you who know me well…thought you’d never hear me quote Calvin, uh?) Francis may have been the best reader of nature in Christian history. I think these are interesting, provocative ideas.
Upper basilica in the afternoon after ligting a candle for Kristy’s grandmother in the crypt. A friar lit it for me on the alter at the tomb.
Dinner with Roy Grant (http://www.intouch-travel.com/host_profile/grant_roy or http://www.geocities.com/roy.grant/ - check out the house pics in the second link). Roy has been described as a British eccentric art collector. I think it may say something about me, but I didn’t find him the least bit eccentric. Pretty normal guy in my book. His house on the other hand…small, ancient, including a 2000 year old Roman arch, and charming. The décor…try art museum with no rules, no pretension. We passed some of it around, including an Egyptian scarab ring dating to 1420BC, an angel statuette from the 9th century, a metal engraving over 800 years old. On the walls were icons, parts of sculpture, a crucifix that was from the 13th century, a Limoges enamel trinity from the 17th century, a crucifix pendant over 700 years old. You know, just the sort of trinkets we all have sitting around. Amidst all this art we sat and drank wine, ate cheese, cured meats, fruit…a lovely time. I’ve met few men more gracious, more pleased to entertain than Roy. And the real lesson… work hard and spend your money on what you love, don’t worry about what doesn’t matter to you. Roy will tell you he doesn’t own a car…but the art brings him great joy. If you’re ever in Assisi, look him up.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Lazy weekend
Saturday…slow, writing, reading, thinking, resting – and then pizza! At Monaci…Life is good. Do I look happy?
Sunday…heat better but sunny… reading, strolling. Mixed feelings about leaving. I really love Italian culture, feel just the opposite about the government. Feelings run the gamut about Francis. I have a more realistic view now, but want to discuss what this all says to us in the world today. Loving the art, but need a break.
…need to go teach it and come back with questions. Ate a good dinner…tried either pigeon or quail… I think it was pigeon…tasted great. Rabbit, a bean dish with pork skins….awesome. And home by 10pm…a rarity. Less than a week, and I am home
Sunday…heat better but sunny… reading, strolling. Mixed feelings about leaving. I really love Italian culture, feel just the opposite about the government. Feelings run the gamut about Francis. I have a more realistic view now, but want to discuss what this all says to us in the world today. Loving the art, but need a break.
…need to go teach it and come back with questions. Ate a good dinner…tried either pigeon or quail… I think it was pigeon…tasted great. Rabbit, a bean dish with pork skins….awesome. And home by 10pm…a rarity. Less than a week, and I am homeCarbonara Festival
The following essay is a work in progress. Some video may be to come. (pics thanks to Mattie Germer) Hopefully some editing on my part and a few trusted friends, and I might just want to see if I can't get it published...tell me what you think... 
Assisi was oppressively hot this week, so hot today that when I tried to take a nap laying on my stomach my t-shirt stuck to my back, adhered by sweat. After a day like that, one of the last things I wanted was a sticky, eggy, fat-laden dish of spaghetti alla carbonara at a festival. But it was tonight, a Friday, when I could sleep away the weekend, or Sunday night – before a very busy week. Going for carbonara was one of the best decisions of my summer in Italy.
Each July the Umbrian hilltop town of Fratticiola Selvatica, pop. 510, hosts a carbonara festival, this year from July 17 to July 26, culminating in a palio of asses. What does this mean? First, carbonara is a pasta dish that involves pork cheek or guanciale, raw eggs, and parmagiano cheese. This is not for those watching calories or figures. A palio of asses? A donkey race around the town square on the final night of the festival, but you knew that, right?
Shortly after arrival it was apparent that this was a very, very small town with much cooler temperatures, and that we, four American teachers, were likely the only non-residents in attendance. We quickly figured out the process. Grab a list of all the available foods. Tally what you want just like a sushi place in the States. Bring list to the cashier. Receive paper print-out perforated in half with your drinks on one side, foods on the other. Have a seat and hand the food side to an adolescent volunteer who will run for your food and bring it all to you at once. Send a friend with the drink half to the bibite shack to pick up the table’s drinks. Enjoy.
With all that figured out it was time to eat. I like to joke that I collect carbonara. To me it’s a dish by which a real Italian restaurant ought to be judged – and most in the States are poor. It is also my wife’s favorite comfort food, so I have quite a bit of experience making it. It is a fairly common event for us to have one menu planned only to be derailed by Kristy looking at me, exhausted by a lousy week at work and saying, “I just need some food to make me feel good. Do you mind making carbonara?” In fact, farm fresh eggs and bacon have become staples in our refrigerator for this reason. Over the years I have been getting closer and closer to perfect. More eggs, less cheese, no cheese in green jars, some pecorino, a hint of pepper, a thick, hearty pasta, thick bacon, less grease – all to achieve the best balance. Then I like to finish it by placing the spaghetti in the bowl with a hollowed divot in the middle into which I drop one whole egg yolk, sprinkle the sides with cheese and drop the bird’s nest on the table. Let’s face it…it’s visually beautiful, sensual with runny egg yolk, and makes you feel like a kid. Making matters worse, I recently spent a lovely evening in what may be Rome’s carbonara Mecca. My standards are too high for this.
But let us dig in. We shared some simple antipasti – bruschetta with liver pate, bruschetta with tomatoes, some cured meats, a slab of pecorino, some panzonella. But we’re here for the titular main event. The ladies in the tents of Fratticiola making carbonara for a few hundred at time could give some better restaurants a real run for their money. The chunks of meat were beautifully cooked, the eggs just creamy enough to stick and clump a b
it, and the cheese not overbearing. And the pasta, the underappreciated, uncelebrated staple of the Western kitchen, was clearly homemade and cooked flawlessly, truly al dente, frankly too firm for the average American palate. The combination was delicious stickiness. While we ate I noticed a few looks from the locals. A few seemed confused…What are you doing here, you’re not one of us? More seemed genuinely appreciative, as if to say they knew this was important, and it was nice to see someone from outside acknowledge that.
Like any small European town with a food festival, the food is really just an excuse for a party. As the sun went down, Fratticiola brought the night to life. Over on the community handball court a dance floor was set up and a band was performing. Though none of us would dance, for good reason, we had to take in the full atmosphere. This is where I fell in love again with Italy. Couples of all ages and abilities filled the floor while the band, with requisite accordion, hairy-chested front man, and a pretty, female singer in what could only be a ice skater’s costume, filled the air with tunes everyone seemed to know. But they didn’t just know the song…they all knew what specific dance was most appropriate for said song and proceeded to dance like ballroom pros. But better, more genuine, more joy. There were no expectations, no competitions, no fear. Everyone danced and danced quite well. And no matter what the song, the ages or skills of the couples, or the size of the crowd watching – they were all so sexy, so sensuous, so connected to one another, looking into each other’s eyes, holding each other and moving as one. It was hot in a wonderful way. Not one man had a hand on a woman’s rear. They understood subtlety, the sexiness of what isn’t said or seen. Sure, The Lion Sleeps Tonight only sounded like English - but it was beautiful.
Kristy, go ahead and sign us up for that dance class. And pick up some eggs at the farmers’ market. I’ll be home next week.
Assisi was oppressively hot this week, so hot today that when I tried to take a nap laying on my stomach my t-shirt stuck to my back, adhered by sweat. After a day like that, one of the last things I wanted was a sticky, eggy, fat-laden dish of spaghetti alla carbonara at a festival. But it was tonight, a Friday, when I could sleep away the weekend, or Sunday night – before a very busy week. Going for carbonara was one of the best decisions of my summer in Italy.Each July the Umbrian hilltop town of Fratticiola Selvatica, pop. 510, hosts a carbonara festival, this year from July 17 to July 26, culminating in a palio of asses. What does this mean? First, carbonara is a pasta dish that involves pork cheek or guanciale, raw eggs, and parmagiano cheese. This is not for those watching calories or figures. A palio of asses? A donkey race around the town square on the final night of the festival, but you knew that, right?
Shortly after arrival it was apparent that this was a very, very small town with much cooler temperatures, and that we, four American teachers, were likely the only non-residents in attendance. We quickly figured out the process. Grab a list of all the available foods. Tally what you want just like a sushi place in the States. Bring list to the cashier. Receive paper print-out perforated in half with your drinks on one side, foods on the other. Have a seat and hand the food side to an adolescent volunteer who will run for your food and bring it all to you at once. Send a friend with the drink half to the bibite shack to pick up the table’s drinks. Enjoy.
With all that figured out it was time to eat. I like to joke that I collect carbonara. To me it’s a dish by which a real Italian restaurant ought to be judged – and most in the States are poor. It is also my wife’s favorite comfort food, so I have quite a bit of experience making it. It is a fairly common event for us to have one menu planned only to be derailed by Kristy looking at me, exhausted by a lousy week at work and saying, “I just need some food to make me feel good. Do you mind making carbonara?” In fact, farm fresh eggs and bacon have become staples in our refrigerator for this reason. Over the years I have been getting closer and closer to perfect. More eggs, less cheese, no cheese in green jars, some pecorino, a hint of pepper, a thick, hearty pasta, thick bacon, less grease – all to achieve the best balance. Then I like to finish it by placing the spaghetti in the bowl with a hollowed divot in the middle into which I drop one whole egg yolk, sprinkle the sides with cheese and drop the bird’s nest on the table. Let’s face it…it’s visually beautiful, sensual with runny egg yolk, and makes you feel like a kid. Making matters worse, I recently spent a lovely evening in what may be Rome’s carbonara Mecca. My standards are too high for this.
But let us dig in. We shared some simple antipasti – bruschetta with liver pate, bruschetta with tomatoes, some cured meats, a slab of pecorino, some panzonella. But we’re here for the titular main event. The ladies in the tents of Fratticiola making carbonara for a few hundred at time could give some better restaurants a real run for their money. The chunks of meat were beautifully cooked, the eggs just creamy enough to stick and clump a b
it, and the cheese not overbearing. And the pasta, the underappreciated, uncelebrated staple of the Western kitchen, was clearly homemade and cooked flawlessly, truly al dente, frankly too firm for the average American palate. The combination was delicious stickiness. While we ate I noticed a few looks from the locals. A few seemed confused…What are you doing here, you’re not one of us? More seemed genuinely appreciative, as if to say they knew this was important, and it was nice to see someone from outside acknowledge that.Like any small European town with a food festival, the food is really just an excuse for a party. As the sun went down, Fratticiola brought the night to life. Over on the community handball court a dance floor was set up and a band was performing. Though none of us would dance, for good reason, we had to take in the full atmosphere. This is where I fell in love again with Italy. Couples of all ages and abilities filled the floor while the band, with requisite accordion, hairy-chested front man, and a pretty, female singer in what could only be a ice skater’s costume, filled the air with tunes everyone seemed to know. But they didn’t just know the song…they all knew what specific dance was most appropriate for said song and proceeded to dance like ballroom pros. But better, more genuine, more joy. There were no expectations, no competitions, no fear. Everyone danced and danced quite well. And no matter what the song, the ages or skills of the couples, or the size of the crowd watching – they were all so sexy, so sensuous, so connected to one another, looking into each other’s eyes, holding each other and moving as one. It was hot in a wonderful way. Not one man had a hand on a woman’s rear. They understood subtlety, the sexiness of what isn’t said or seen. Sure, The Lion Sleeps Tonight only sounded like English - but it was beautiful.
Kristy, go ahead and sign us up for that dance class. And pick up some eggs at the farmers’ market. I’ll be home next week.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Florence with Annie
After the Wednesday day trip to Perugia... Then, rather than return to Assisi with the rest of the seminar, I headed to Florence to eat and laugh my way through town with Annie Shapero. Oh my! If you don’t know Annie, you ought to be aware that she is a food and travel writer, wine sommelier, future media mogul and pop star (if not in her own mind now). To call her gregarious, hilarious, and a foodie is really to understand how limiting words can be. We began at Cibrèo Café. We were first greeted by the maitre d’ who knows her – as does seemingly everyone else. Then drinks – that’s all we’re really there for…but then the plates start coming…roasted vegetables, bread, fish, tripe…all of it beautifully delicate, flavorful and flawless for a summer night. We could end here but we have a dinner reservation between 10 and 10:30 at La Giostra.
Check out the webpage…it’s worth it… http://www.ristorantelagiostra.com/. Dark, funky charm, lots of Christmas tree lights and a menu and wine list to die for. We had a beautiful wine, a blend of Cabernet, Syrah and Sangiovese called Avvoltore that would account for more than half our bill, a gorgeous antipasti plate and a couple plates of stunning, melt in your mouth, carpaccio, 
one from chianina beef – must be one of the most regal and massive beef cattle in the world. Then we’re out to a piazza to stand around and drink Montenegro, an herbal after-dinner drink I love. As the night ended I’m not sure if I was more exhausted by eating and drinking, amazing treatment from restaurants or by the great conversation and laughter!
Thursday
Another day in Florence, more eating, more Annie. First she has to go check out a hotel for some work she’s doing…rude, self-involved proprietor won’t let her do anything…for free promotion even though his entire industry is in the tank right now…lousy place….Locando Starlight…don’t bother. Interestingly they have a good reputation for service, but we couldn’t tell. The inside may in fact be fantastic, but he wouldn’t let us look. But if you do want to find a reasonably-priced place to stay check out http://www.eurocheapo.com/, that’s who Annie was doing this work for. Then we walked around the covered food market in San Lorenzo. I am in love…with the market! Every meat imaginable. One stand just sells meat from the digestive and excretory system…as well as snou
ts…odd combo. Another specializes in organ meat…livers, kidneys, brains and huge testicles. The fish stands are works of art…everything you can imagine. Then to lunch at Trattoria Fiaschetteria da Mario…wow…what a place. This place is miniature, crowded, hot and delicious. We sat on dinky stools and a crowded family-style table. The menu was hand written on the wall. We started with ribollita, a bread-based soup that really is a way to use leftovers. Annie tells me the key ingredient is black cabbage which imparts a unique bitterness. As bitter is my favorite flavor, I was pretty damn happy! Then entrees…a roasted rabbit and the most tender veal you can imagine. Beautiful flavors, hints of olive oil everywhere, a touch of balsamic, rosemary…mmmmmmmm. Then a return to Cibrèo Café for dessert…doesn’t every lunch need dessert? We order two and they bring three…and two dessert wines, Sauturnes and Passito di Pantelleria, perfect in the summer heat. Flourless chocolate cake… a small piece, not more than half an inch high, but rich and creamy, but not heavy…flawless. A cheesecake with tangerine marmalade, light and fluffy…another pastry with perfect flaky, buttery crust. Who needs a job anyway?
Needless to say I had to get back to Assisi. When I did I chose to walk from the stazzione to the hotel…that meant walking up hill for about two miles on the pilgrims’ path. Seeing Assisi lit at night from a distance and walking straight up to it is something everyone, no matter their religion, faith or lack thereof, should do. But do try it sometime when the daytime temp didn’t reach almost 100 degrees. I was soaked by the time I made it to the basilica. Fortunately there was a great breeze coming down the hill that made the main street feel like a wind tunnel.
Back in sleepy Assisi for one last week. And I am really looking forward to coming home. Travel is great, Italy is great, and learning is great. But six weeks out of a suitcase, no cooking for myself, and eating like I won’t ever see Italy again…it’s tough. Looking forward to seeing Kristy, friends and family, a strong air conditioner, and a good beer again. Wish I could bring friends like Alissa and Annie home with me along with a little old lady to make and cook all my pasta and sauces. Then again maybe that last one would be best left here.
Check out the webpage…it’s worth it… http://www.ristorantelagiostra.com/. Dark, funky charm, lots of Christmas tree lights and a menu and wine list to die for. We had a beautiful wine, a blend of Cabernet, Syrah and Sangiovese called Avvoltore that would account for more than half our bill, a gorgeous antipasti plate and a couple plates of stunning, melt in your mouth, carpaccio, 
one from chianina beef – must be one of the most regal and massive beef cattle in the world. Then we’re out to a piazza to stand around and drink Montenegro, an herbal after-dinner drink I love. As the night ended I’m not sure if I was more exhausted by eating and drinking, amazing treatment from restaurants or by the great conversation and laughter!Thursday
Another day in Florence, more eating, more Annie. First she has to go check out a hotel for some work she’s doing…rude, self-involved proprietor won’t let her do anything…for free promotion even though his entire industry is in the tank right now…lousy place….Locando Starlight…don’t bother. Interestingly they have a good reputation for service, but we couldn’t tell. The inside may in fact be fantastic, but he wouldn’t let us look. But if you do want to find a reasonably-priced place to stay check out http://www.eurocheapo.com/, that’s who Annie was doing this work for. Then we walked around the covered food market in San Lorenzo. I am in love…with the market! Every meat imaginable. One stand just sells meat from the digestive and excretory system…as well as snou
ts…odd combo. Another specializes in organ meat…livers, kidneys, brains and huge testicles. The fish stands are works of art…everything you can imagine. Then to lunch at Trattoria Fiaschetteria da Mario…wow…what a place. This place is miniature, crowded, hot and delicious. We sat on dinky stools and a crowded family-style table. The menu was hand written on the wall. We started with ribollita, a bread-based soup that really is a way to use leftovers. Annie tells me the key ingredient is black cabbage which imparts a unique bitterness. As bitter is my favorite flavor, I was pretty damn happy! Then entrees…a roasted rabbit and the most tender veal you can imagine. Beautiful flavors, hints of olive oil everywhere, a touch of balsamic, rosemary…mmmmmmmm. Then a return to Cibrèo Café for dessert…doesn’t every lunch need dessert? We order two and they bring three…and two dessert wines, Sauturnes and Passito di Pantelleria, perfect in the summer heat. Flourless chocolate cake… a small piece, not more than half an inch high, but rich and creamy, but not heavy…flawless. A cheesecake with tangerine marmalade, light and fluffy…another pastry with perfect flaky, buttery crust. Who needs a job anyway?Needless to say I had to get back to Assisi. When I did I chose to walk from the stazzione to the hotel…that meant walking up hill for about two miles on the pilgrims’ path. Seeing Assisi lit at night from a distance and walking straight up to it is something everyone, no matter their religion, faith or lack thereof, should do. But do try it sometime when the daytime temp didn’t reach almost 100 degrees. I was soaked by the time I made it to the basilica. Fortunately there was a great breeze coming down the hill that made the main street feel like a wind tunnel.
Back in sleepy Assisi for one last week. And I am really looking forward to coming home. Travel is great, Italy is great, and learning is great. But six weeks out of a suitcase, no cooking for myself, and eating like I won’t ever see Italy again…it’s tough. Looking forward to seeing Kristy, friends and family, a strong air conditioner, and a good beer again. Wish I could bring friends like Alissa and Annie home with me along with a little old lady to make and cook all my pasta and sauces. Then again maybe that last one would be best left here. Perugia
Wednesday
More Random Ideas That Popped Into My Head During Seminar:
In the Middle Ages anything new and novel was a hard sell. Western Europe was in quite an era of conformism and authoritarianism. Now?...seems novelty just gets commodified and sold at the local mall or on Fox.
We frequently think that the path of history was inevitable. But the fact of the matter is that throughout history people have had choices. In my opinion, this is the essence of Tolstoy, particularly War and Peace…regular people making human decisions change the world every day. Bill explained that even in the Roman history books it is explained that Julius Caesar still had a choice to cross the Rubicon.
If birds understand simplicity, only eating and building what they need, why can’t we? I know, sounds stupid coming from a guy who lives in a gorgeous, new house with amenities most people will never have and is writing this from Assisi after traveling in Italy all summer!
As we look at some works of art we frequently find ourselves attracted to chaotic scenes of hell, as opposed to structured scenes of heaven. In the Middle Ages the structure and order was considered good, valued. But from an Eastern perspective, Chaos is the substance from which creation comes. How do these ideas intersect with monastic life with its intense structure?
In the afternoon we took the bus to Perugia, Assisi’s arch nemesis. We saw three things. First we stood in the blazing sun and looked at one of the coolest fountains I have ever seen. Why? Surely Bill’s explanations made it. Next we were off to the National Museum of Umbria. Pierro di Cosimo and della Francesca were highlights for me. However, completely unexpectedly, I did get to learn more about the process of panel painting. There was an alterpiece that was badly damaged. You could see the layers…first the wood, then a glue, then a cloth was applied and spread very thin and flat and that was covered with another adhesive that served as the smooth painting surface. Totally new to me…I thought they painted right on the wood. I had always wondered how they could get so much paint on there so as to never let the wood grain show through. Then we headed down to the Franciscan church to see Brother Giles’ tomb. He is entombed in an early Christian sarcophagus, 5th or 6th century. And we were close enough to touch it!
More Random Ideas That Popped Into My Head During Seminar:
In the Middle Ages anything new and novel was a hard sell. Western Europe was in quite an era of conformism and authoritarianism. Now?...seems novelty just gets commodified and sold at the local mall or on Fox.
We frequently think that the path of history was inevitable. But the fact of the matter is that throughout history people have had choices. In my opinion, this is the essence of Tolstoy, particularly War and Peace…regular people making human decisions change the world every day. Bill explained that even in the Roman history books it is explained that Julius Caesar still had a choice to cross the Rubicon.
If birds understand simplicity, only eating and building what they need, why can’t we? I know, sounds stupid coming from a guy who lives in a gorgeous, new house with amenities most people will never have and is writing this from Assisi after traveling in Italy all summer!
As we look at some works of art we frequently find ourselves attracted to chaotic scenes of hell, as opposed to structured scenes of heaven. In the Middle Ages the structure and order was considered good, valued. But from an Eastern perspective, Chaos is the substance from which creation comes. How do these ideas intersect with monastic life with its intense structure?
In the afternoon we took the bus to Perugia, Assisi’s arch nemesis. We saw three things. First we stood in the blazing sun and looked at one of the coolest fountains I have ever seen. Why? Surely Bill’s explanations made it. Next we were off to the National Museum of Umbria. Pierro di Cosimo and della Francesca were highlights for me. However, completely unexpectedly, I did get to learn more about the process of panel painting. There was an alterpiece that was badly damaged. You could see the layers…first the wood, then a glue, then a cloth was applied and spread very thin and flat and that was covered with another adhesive that served as the smooth painting surface. Totally new to me…I thought they painted right on the wood. I had always wondered how they could get so much paint on there so as to never let the wood grain show through. Then we headed down to the Franciscan church to see Brother Giles’ tomb. He is entombed in an early Christian sarcophagus, 5th or 6th century. And we were close enough to touch it!
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Orte, Orvieto, and Todi
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Today we headed to three hill towns, Orte, Orvietto and Todi. Calling them hill towns suggests they sit on hills, right. Not quite. They actually sit on gigantic tables or tree stumps…they are each surrounded by sheer cliffs. Visually they are breathtaking. And they all felt like the set of Cinema Paradiso.
We began in Orte to see a very small museum in a 12th century church and one specific dossal. The museum was smaller than my classroom. We had to wait for someone to go get a key to open it for us. And we could get inches from the art…while the lady with the key smoked in the doorway…but we couldn’t take flash photos…go figure. One element in the painting caught my eye. It was an illustration of Elijah exiting the cave from the Old Testament linked with Francis exiting the cave and receiving the stigmata...Allegory of the Cave, Plato? Only the best exit to experience the real truth. I will have to look into that. On our way out of town a small car had to be moved by lifting it so that the bus could get out.
Orvieto was next. What a gorgeous place. Far more tourists…it’s less than an hour train ride from Rome…but amazing. We visited the very simple Romanesque Franciscan San Lorenzo church - wonderful. I am really developing a love of the simplicity and darkness of these Romanesque structures. This one featured frescoes dating to about 1290. Then we headed to the Cathedral. This may be the most beautiful cathedral I have ever seen – inside and out. It’s important in Christian history because of a key story related to transubstantiation. Centuries ago there was dispute in the church about what exactly happened at the Eucharist. The church settled the issue by explaining that by the miracle of the Eucharist the bread and water/wine were transubstantiated – their essence was changed – into the body and blood of Christ. Not far from Orvieto a priest questioned the conclusion. But then when he raised the host and cracked it, it bled on the alter cloth. Proof enough, uh? The cloth has become a holy relic for this specific cathedral a
nd is on display. But the real attraction is in the right trancept which has an amazing, phenomenally detailed fresco that shows the End Days by Signorelli. I had never seen this before but now think it may be a masterpiece of the Renaissance on par with Raphael’s room with the School of Athens and Disputation of the Holy Sacrament. Its colors and details were incredible. And it didn’t just feature a Christian story but also celebrated such writers as Dante and Virgil. This is worth the trip to Orvieto. The Ombrichelli, a local, hand-made, hearty noodle ain’t so bad either.
On to Todi, a quiet town of winding streets that will make you feel like you just stepped into the 12th century and/or the set of The Agony and the Ecstasy (because it was). We went into the Cathedral to see the tomb of Jacopini, a monk who wrote a somewhat satirical response to The Canticle of the Creatures, and to see an example of French-inspired Gothic architecture. We also visited another church with a Last Judgment fresco that looks to me to have inspired Michelangelo’s in the Sistine.
Each of these towns were amazing in their own way and are certainly overlooked by all but the most intrepid Italian traveler. I am thrilled and honored to say I have seen them.
Today we headed to three hill towns, Orte, Orvietto and Todi. Calling them hill towns suggests they sit on hills, right. Not quite. They actually sit on gigantic tables or tree stumps…they are each surrounded by sheer cliffs. Visually they are breathtaking. And they all felt like the set of Cinema Paradiso.
We began in Orte to see a very small museum in a 12th century church and one specific dossal. The museum was smaller than my classroom. We had to wait for someone to go get a key to open it for us. And we could get inches from the art…while the lady with the key smoked in the doorway…but we couldn’t take flash photos…go figure. One element in the painting caught my eye. It was an illustration of Elijah exiting the cave from the Old Testament linked with Francis exiting the cave and receiving the stigmata...Allegory of the Cave, Plato? Only the best exit to experience the real truth. I will have to look into that. On our way out of town a small car had to be moved by lifting it so that the bus could get out.
Orvieto was next. What a gorgeous place. Far more tourists…it’s less than an hour train ride from Rome…but amazing. We visited the very simple Romanesque Franciscan San Lorenzo church - wonderful. I am really developing a love of the simplicity and darkness of these Romanesque structures. This one featured frescoes dating to about 1290. Then we headed to the Cathedral. This may be the most beautiful cathedral I have ever seen – inside and out. It’s important in Christian history because of a key story related to transubstantiation. Centuries ago there was dispute in the church about what exactly happened at the Eucharist. The church settled the issue by explaining that by the miracle of the Eucharist the bread and water/wine were transubstantiated – their essence was changed – into the body and blood of Christ. Not far from Orvieto a priest questioned the conclusion. But then when he raised the host and cracked it, it bled on the alter cloth. Proof enough, uh? The cloth has become a holy relic for this specific cathedral a
nd is on display. But the real attraction is in the right trancept which has an amazing, phenomenally detailed fresco that shows the End Days by Signorelli. I had never seen this before but now think it may be a masterpiece of the Renaissance on par with Raphael’s room with the School of Athens and Disputation of the Holy Sacrament. Its colors and details were incredible. And it didn’t just feature a Christian story but also celebrated such writers as Dante and Virgil. This is worth the trip to Orvieto. The Ombrichelli, a local, hand-made, hearty noodle ain’t so bad either.On to Todi, a quiet town of winding streets that will make you feel like you just stepped into the 12th century and/or the set of The Agony and the Ecstasy (because it was). We went into the Cathedral to see the tomb of Jacopini, a monk who wrote a somewhat satirical response to The Canticle of the Creatures, and to see an example of French-inspired Gothic architecture. We also visited another church with a Last Judgment fresco that looks to me to have inspired Michelangelo’s in the Sistine.
Each of these towns were amazing in their own way and are certainly overlooked by all but the most intrepid Italian traveler. I am thrilled and honored to say I have seen them.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Random Thoughts from seminar…
Bernard of Clairvaux said that monks don’t need all the art we see in many churches in Europe. They’re literate and have books. They don’t need stained glass windows, frescoes, paintings, etc. The visual art is a distraction. What would Neil Postman have to say about that? Did Postman know what Bernard said? What does this say to us with our televisions, internet, cell phones, etc?
Again, if Francis is a new John the Baptist, who is or will be the coming again? St. Bonaventure goes well beyond just suggesting that Francis is a new John, he makes it crystal clear. What does it mean for us to be a follower of Jesus, Francis, etc. and live in this world? What does it mean in this life?
I just noticed that of the 15 of us only one is from California, none from Texas or Florida. I have been to a lot of conferences and AP scoring and this is unheard of. Admittedly, it is a self-selected, application process, but such underrepresentation from those states is rare at teacher functions.
In the afternoon we had a walking tour of Assisi, starting at Cathedral San Rufino. This was a fairly simple church, but the façade was notable….dates back to the 11th century, lots of animals, completely different from most others. Then we headed back through the Piazza dei Communale to head in to the underground. This was the old Roman Forum which is underneath the square. This really was something special. I was able to touch marble carved with Latin inscriptions almost 2000 years ago. Surreal.
Then we headed to the piazza where Francis stripped himself naked, renounced his father and declared himself loyal to God. This is a vital moment in Francis’ life. I kid you not…when we walked up to the church at the piazza a group of children were playing game across the façade of the church. The point…which team could send it’s members back and forth to change from their street clothes into friars’ clothes fastest.
Then we walked down to San Damiano, the church at which a crucifix spoke to Francis and told him to rebuild his church. Shortly after this event Francis did rebuild this specific church, and it eventually became an abbey
for the Poor Clares; St. Clare lived inside it for 41 years. This place could hardly be more simple or austere…and I loved it. In light of all the ornate, “baroqued” churches we have seen, this one was beautiful in its simplicity, and what I believe to be its authenticity.
And now our tour was done. But not the day. Yet someone else asked if I’d like to accompany them for pizza at Monaci. Oh…..okay! This time (Kaitlyn and Amy, you can fight over this) I ordered pizza romana. This is a good place to explain one element of true Italian pizza. You don’t go to a pizza place and just choose toppings. Each combination has a name and that combo/name is pretty much the same all over. Pizza margherita is always mozzarella, basil, and tomatoes. Pizza romana is always anchovies and capers. Capricciosa should be mushrooms, prosciutto, artichoke hearts, olives and ½ a boiled egg. There may be variations here and there, and there will be arguments about authenticity. And the basics have been legally defined and adopted by the European Union…I am not kidding (check out http://www.pizzanapoletana.org/ and see how serious they are….you can read the legal definition of a real Naples-style pizza).
Anyway, my pizza romana was great….perfectly salty, plump capers, generous heaps of anchovies…mmmmmmmm. But I followed it up with some spaghetti aglio e olio….garlic and olive oil. Could not be any simpler nor any better on a hot night. Followed up with some limoncello….a perfect Italian evening.
Random Thoughts from seminar…
Bernard of Clairvaux said that monks don’t need all the art we see in many churches in Europe. They’re literate and have books. They don’t need stained glass windows, frescoes, paintings, etc. The visual art is a distraction. What would Neil Postman have to say about that? Did Postman know what Bernard said? What does this say to us with our televisions, internet, cell phones, etc?
Again, if Francis is a new John the Baptist, who is or will be the coming again? St. Bonaventure goes well beyond just suggesting that Francis is a new John, he makes it crystal clear. What does it mean for us to be a follower of Jesus, Francis, etc. and live in this world? What does it mean in this life?
I just noticed that of the 15 of us only one is from California, none from Texas or Florida. I have been to a lot of conferences and AP scoring and this is unheard of. Admittedly, it is a self-selected, application process, but such underrepresentation from those states is rare at teacher functions.
In the afternoon we had a walking tour of Assisi, starting at Cathedral San Rufino. This was a fairly simple church, but the façade was notable….dates back to the 11th century, lots of animals, completely different from most others. Then we headed back through the Piazza dei Communale to head in to the underground. This was the old Roman Forum which is underneath the square. This really was something special. I was able to touch marble carved with Latin inscriptions almost 2000 years ago. Surreal.
Then we headed to the piazza where Francis stripped himself naked, renounced his father and declared himself loyal to God. This is a vital moment in Francis’ life. I kid you not…when we walked up to the church at the piazza a group of children were playing game across the façade of the church. The point…which team could send it’s members back and forth to change from their street clothes into friars’ clothes fastest.
Then we walked down to San Damiano, the church at which a crucifix spoke to Francis and told him to rebuild his church. Shortly after this event Francis did rebuild this specific church, and it eventually became an abbey
for the Poor Clares; St. Clare lived inside it for 41 years. This place could hardly be more simple or austere…and I loved it. In light of all the ornate, “baroqued” churches we have seen, this one was beautiful in its simplicity, and what I believe to be its authenticity.And now our tour was done. But not the day. Yet someone else asked if I’d like to accompany them for pizza at Monaci. Oh…..okay! This time (Kaitlyn and Amy, you can fight over this) I ordered pizza romana. This is a good place to explain one element of true Italian pizza. You don’t go to a pizza place and just choose toppings. Each combination has a name and that combo/name is pretty much the same all over. Pizza margherita is always mozzarella, basil, and tomatoes. Pizza romana is always anchovies and capers. Capricciosa should be mushrooms, prosciutto, artichoke hearts, olives and ½ a boiled egg. There may be variations here and there, and there will be arguments about authenticity. And the basics have been legally defined and adopted by the European Union…I am not kidding (check out http://www.pizzanapoletana.org/ and see how serious they are….you can read the legal definition of a real Naples-style pizza).
Anyway, my pizza romana was great….perfectly salty, plump capers, generous heaps of anchovies…mmmmmmmm. But I followed it up with some spaghetti aglio e olio….garlic and olive oil. Could not be any simpler nor any better on a hot night. Followed up with some limoncello….a perfect Italian evening.
Time off
Friday, July 17, 2009
Tonight a few people wandered by and said they were going to Monaci for pizza and asked if I’d like to go. Twist my arm….okay. Had a calzone…this one was yours, Kaitlyn. Amazing. So much better than anything in the States. So….a regular pizza with ham and artichokes, but with the toppings piled up on one side. Then they fold over the dough and bake it. When it comes out it’s scorched on top and a little indented. Then they pour a little olive oil over it and bring it to the table…large enough that the edges hang over the edge of the plate. When you slice it open, the scent fills the room. And it tastes perfect. When will someone in the States master this? Iou even tried to find a picture online of a good one....doesn't exist. I will need to buy a disposable camera to show you.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
This was our first day off in two weeks. And I did almost nothing. I did catch a ride to nearby Daruta to look at pottery. Nice town, but complete empty of all tourists. A bit sad really. Merchants seemed desperate to sell. But even with good prices, that stuff is expensive! I spent the rest of the day relaxing, reading, writing. In the evening I had a great dish of pappardelle with a cream wild boar sauce…awesome.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Another lazy day ending an amazing weekend for weather. A nice breeze blew in and cleared the air, the temps dropped 15 degrees and the sun blazed. I spent virtually the entire day reading in the Piazza and up the hill at the Rocca Magiore…a fortress high above Assisi. Another perfect day.
Tonight a few people wandered by and said they were going to Monaci for pizza and asked if I’d like to go. Twist my arm….okay. Had a calzone…this one was yours, Kaitlyn. Amazing. So much better than anything in the States. So….a regular pizza with ham and artichokes, but with the toppings piled up on one side. Then they fold over the dough and bake it. When it comes out it’s scorched on top and a little indented. Then they pour a little olive oil over it and bring it to the table…large enough that the edges hang over the edge of the plate. When you slice it open, the scent fills the room. And it tastes perfect. When will someone in the States master this? Iou even tried to find a picture online of a good one....doesn't exist. I will need to buy a disposable camera to show you.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
This was our first day off in two weeks. And I did almost nothing. I did catch a ride to nearby Daruta to look at pottery. Nice town, but complete empty of all tourists. A bit sad really. Merchants seemed desperate to sell. But even with good prices, that stuff is expensive! I spent the rest of the day relaxing, reading, writing. In the evening I had a great dish of pappardelle with a cream wild boar sauce…awesome.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Another lazy day ending an amazing weekend for weather. A nice breeze blew in and cleared the air, the temps dropped 15 degrees and the sun blazed. I spent virtually the entire day reading in the Piazza and up the hill at the Rocca Magiore…a fortress high above Assisi. Another perfect day.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
More random thoughts from seminar today
1. Is art an imitation of God’s art? If so, artists are creators. Albrecht Durer sure said this and portrayed himself as such. But Francis suggests such a thought 300 years prior.
2. Does Francis really suggest that “book-learning" is useless? Does he embrace an anti-intellectualism? If so, why? This really isn’t a unique idea amongst thinkers. Lao Tzu suggests the same sort of idea. But if this is the case, what does it say about our efforts to understand them through academic study? A bit oxymoronic? I would say that these people say such things because intellectual knowledge takes one away from what is really important – the immeasurable, our relationships, our happiness. It also provides clutter on the way to cleansing the mind.
3. This idea of cleansing the mind, removing the clutter….synonymous with Zen and the state of satori. When you empty the mind and literally think of nothing….then it all comes to you and see how amazing life is.
4. What is the role of books? Can they help us to know Francis? Can they help to reach enlightenment? See above….
5. If you love god’s creation, you love it all. Not just the cute and fuzzy animals, but the worms too. Not just the sunsets, but the hurricanes too. How many people are really equipped and ready to embrace everything as wonderful. Consider this Zen and Taoist story…
‘A farmer lived in the days when fighting was going on between small kingdoms in China. This farmer had a son. His son, with the aid of the horse, was tilling a small field. One day the horse ran away. The neighbors came and said, 'It's a very bad thing. You have such bad luck.’ The farmer said, ‘Maybe.’ So the next day the horse came back with half a dozen other wild horses. The neighbors came again and they said, ‘What tremendous luck.’ So he said, ‘Maybe.’ On the third day the son, while trying to ride one of the wild horses, fell and broke his leg. Again, the neighbors came and said what bad luck it was, and the farmer said, ‘Maybe.’ The next day the king's people came to recruit strong healthy farmers into the army. When they found this farmer's son with a broken leg they left him alone. So, again, the neighbors came and said it wasn't such bad luck after all and that everything had turned out well. The farmer said, again, ‘Maybe.’’
6. Simplicity isn’t simplicity for simplicity’s sake…must be for a purpose. In Francis’ case that is for God. In Zen, cleanse the mind.
7. Is knowledge a possession? If we say it is, does that explain why Francis doesn’t want books and academic learning? Does knowledge corrupt or distract? Is it something that requires protection, just like material possessions?
8. Why do adults look at the minutia and why do younger learners seek the big picture? Bill suggested this idea. I wonder how much it’s true. I find that the pursuit of the minute becomes little more than an academic exercise that pleases the ego. If the pursuit of knowledge is not for some greater good and to instruct us about our times, we’re just wasting time. I believe when asked about the nature of God(s) and an afterlife Lao Tzu or Siddartha said essentially that such conversation inevitably led to debate. This was a waste of time because no one could prove anything, there would be no resolution, and as the debate raged, life would be passing us by. Worry about the world at hand, the here and now, and do it well.
In the afternoon we visited Santa Chiara, the church dedicated to St. Clare, founder of the Poor Clares, a Franciscan order of women. It features two extremely important crucifixes, one in the middle, over the alter, important for art historical reasons and the other in a side chapel. This is the crucifix that supposedly told Francis, at San Damiano, to rebuild his church. Aside from these two pieces and one huge dossal, I wasn’t so impressed with this church. The space that Clare is entombed in is awful, ornate, over-the-top.
More random thoughts from seminar today
1. Is art an imitation of God’s art? If so, artists are creators. Albrecht Durer sure said this and portrayed himself as such. But Francis suggests such a thought 300 years prior.
2. Does Francis really suggest that “book-learning" is useless? Does he embrace an anti-intellectualism? If so, why? This really isn’t a unique idea amongst thinkers. Lao Tzu suggests the same sort of idea. But if this is the case, what does it say about our efforts to understand them through academic study? A bit oxymoronic? I would say that these people say such things because intellectual knowledge takes one away from what is really important – the immeasurable, our relationships, our happiness. It also provides clutter on the way to cleansing the mind.
3. This idea of cleansing the mind, removing the clutter….synonymous with Zen and the state of satori. When you empty the mind and literally think of nothing….then it all comes to you and see how amazing life is.
4. What is the role of books? Can they help us to know Francis? Can they help to reach enlightenment? See above….
5. If you love god’s creation, you love it all. Not just the cute and fuzzy animals, but the worms too. Not just the sunsets, but the hurricanes too. How many people are really equipped and ready to embrace everything as wonderful. Consider this Zen and Taoist story…
‘A farmer lived in the days when fighting was going on between small kingdoms in China. This farmer had a son. His son, with the aid of the horse, was tilling a small field. One day the horse ran away. The neighbors came and said, 'It's a very bad thing. You have such bad luck.’ The farmer said, ‘Maybe.’ So the next day the horse came back with half a dozen other wild horses. The neighbors came again and they said, ‘What tremendous luck.’ So he said, ‘Maybe.’ On the third day the son, while trying to ride one of the wild horses, fell and broke his leg. Again, the neighbors came and said what bad luck it was, and the farmer said, ‘Maybe.’ The next day the king's people came to recruit strong healthy farmers into the army. When they found this farmer's son with a broken leg they left him alone. So, again, the neighbors came and said it wasn't such bad luck after all and that everything had turned out well. The farmer said, again, ‘Maybe.’’
6. Simplicity isn’t simplicity for simplicity’s sake…must be for a purpose. In Francis’ case that is for God. In Zen, cleanse the mind.
7. Is knowledge a possession? If we say it is, does that explain why Francis doesn’t want books and academic learning? Does knowledge corrupt or distract? Is it something that requires protection, just like material possessions?
8. Why do adults look at the minutia and why do younger learners seek the big picture? Bill suggested this idea. I wonder how much it’s true. I find that the pursuit of the minute becomes little more than an academic exercise that pleases the ego. If the pursuit of knowledge is not for some greater good and to instruct us about our times, we’re just wasting time. I believe when asked about the nature of God(s) and an afterlife Lao Tzu or Siddartha said essentially that such conversation inevitably led to debate. This was a waste of time because no one could prove anything, there would be no resolution, and as the debate raged, life would be passing us by. Worry about the world at hand, the here and now, and do it well.
In the afternoon we visited Santa Chiara, the church dedicated to St. Clare, founder of the Poor Clares, a Franciscan order of women. It features two extremely important crucifixes, one in the middle, over the alter, important for art historical reasons and the other in a side chapel. This is the crucifix that supposedly told Francis, at San Damiano, to rebuild his church. Aside from these two pieces and one huge dossal, I wasn’t so impressed with this church. The space that Clare is entombed in is awful, ornate, over-the-top.
Thursday, July, 16, 2009
Seminar today left me with another collection of seemingly random thoughts.
1. One of the writings in Francis’ own hand lists in rhythmic fashion characteristics of God. One scholar suggests this is another example of the influence of Francis’ voyage to Egypt and influence of Islam. This seems sooooo obvious.
2. There was a problem, or at least some conflict, when Franciscan friars became chaplains to the rich, therefore living quite comfortably. But how is this much different than good teachers choosing to take jobs in great districts instead of staying in or going to the less-advantaged, differently-challenging inner-city schools. I think there has to be some self-preservation at hand. If the job is going to eat you alive….get out! However, just as they told those advantaged Franciscans, we all have to remember and respect where we came from.
3. We are great sinners when we don’t use what we have been given. With great ability comes great responsibility?
4. The lowly and simple, the humble, don’t want power and influence – they want humility and to do the simple, basic work. (Or at least that’s what we frequently project upon them.) So when the impact and importance of their work – whether a Franciscan, other mendicant, or may I suggest, a classroom teacher – gains some influence and access with power, what becomes of them. Does that negate or call into question their authenticity or sincerity? What does it do to their relationships? Are they seen as ass-kissers? How does one stay true to their roots, genuine and authentic, while doing what it takes to create change? Is there not some need to get access to power to create change, or is the only way to change the world through being a living rebuke?
In the afternoon we visited the Portiuncula. This was a small church in the valley below Assisi in which Francis spent a great deal of time and eventually died. It has been surrounded now by an oversized Baroque monstrosity. It wasn’t as outlandishly baroque as I expected. I was planning on seeing an over-sized Weisskirke or Il Gesu, but it was actually rather simple and bare relatively speaking. The rest of the complex was outrageous however. Seriously, oversized dioramas of the Nativity or Francis at prayer! However, the attached art museum, though small, was wonderful.
The day ended with a birthday celebration on a patio high above the city.
Seminar today left me with another collection of seemingly random thoughts.
1. One of the writings in Francis’ own hand lists in rhythmic fashion characteristics of God. One scholar suggests this is another example of the influence of Francis’ voyage to Egypt and influence of Islam. This seems sooooo obvious.
2. There was a problem, or at least some conflict, when Franciscan friars became chaplains to the rich, therefore living quite comfortably. But how is this much different than good teachers choosing to take jobs in great districts instead of staying in or going to the less-advantaged, differently-challenging inner-city schools. I think there has to be some self-preservation at hand. If the job is going to eat you alive….get out! However, just as they told those advantaged Franciscans, we all have to remember and respect where we came from.
3. We are great sinners when we don’t use what we have been given. With great ability comes great responsibility?
4. The lowly and simple, the humble, don’t want power and influence – they want humility and to do the simple, basic work. (Or at least that’s what we frequently project upon them.) So when the impact and importance of their work – whether a Franciscan, other mendicant, or may I suggest, a classroom teacher – gains some influence and access with power, what becomes of them. Does that negate or call into question their authenticity or sincerity? What does it do to their relationships? Are they seen as ass-kissers? How does one stay true to their roots, genuine and authentic, while doing what it takes to create change? Is there not some need to get access to power to create change, or is the only way to change the world through being a living rebuke?
In the afternoon we visited the Portiuncula. This was a small church in the valley below Assisi in which Francis spent a great deal of time and eventually died. It has been surrounded now by an oversized Baroque monstrosity. It wasn’t as outlandishly baroque as I expected. I was planning on seeing an over-sized Weisskirke or Il Gesu, but it was actually rather simple and bare relatively speaking. The rest of the complex was outrageous however. Seriously, oversized dioramas of the Nativity or Francis at prayer! However, the attached art museum, though small, was wonderful.
The day ended with a birthday celebration on a patio high above the city.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Three Umbrian Sites
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
We got out of town today to three amazing places. The first was Greccio. We arrived here after what appeared to be a near vertical ascent into the mountains. This is an important Franciscan site because Francis came here to contemplate, meditate or pray often in a very small, dark cave. This opportunity to reflect in solitude is vital to his experience and development. As one participant put it, could solitude be the only thing he “owned” or had any control over. Words really can’t describe the experience of being there. It is a place of near silence, nothing but you and nature way up in the hills. We sat in a small chapel and read Celano’s description of a Christmas mass here. Breathtaking! This is why there is also a small crèche museum and a small crèche behind a wall in the chapel. Outside you could see forever. As I headed up the hill I passed a couple people carrying fiddle heads, probably foraged from the woods for some amazing soup. For the first time in a month I could smell nature, and a particularly strong scent of bay trees. It is a place to be alone with your thoughts, your God, or Gods. I really did not want to leave. That said, they do have a gift shop – and the do sell liquors of truffle, nuts, and honey. I like it even better!
Then we went to Spoleto, a gorgeous town dominated by a refurbished castle, like Vianden in Luxembourg but a little larger. We started at the main piazza and Cathedral. We were here to see three things. First and most surreal, we saw the second of the two remaining writings actually written by Francis’ own hand. Next we moved to the apse of the church to see a massive and gorgeous fresco done by Fra Fillipo Lippi, one of my Renaissance favorites. Finally, we saw his tomb. Though I have only seen one prior Lippi, I can now say that his style and technique are unmistakable.
Near the same piazza we entered a museum as a means to see the inside of St. Eufemia, a 12th century Romanesque church. I am note sure, but I really love this simple, bare, austere, fortress-like churches. This one, though restored was stunning. It featured a variety of columns taken from classical sites – all kinds, little symmetry. We also got to walk among the upper spaces and see a church from a perspective I had never seen.
Finally in Spoleto, we walked up and up to the Vianden-castle to the new city museum. A brutal walk in awful heat and sun was rewarded with a striking museum. We were there to see three crucifixes – all wonderful and instructive in their own way. But the best line of the day came in response to a participant asking if we could take photos. Bill explained that he had not seen any signs and that, “after the climb up, as far as I am concerned you can take a sample.” Priceless.
After driving through rolling hills and fields of sunflowers we reached our final stop of the day, Montefalco, a very small town that looks just like the set of Cinema Paradiso. Here we visited another deconsecrated church attached to museum. This one featured a stunning apse fresco of another Francis life cycle, this one by Gozzoli. This ought to be famous….vibrant colors, detail, feeling and motion.
The day ended with a visit to Monaci, one the great pizzerias…anywhere. As you walk in the first thing you seen is the wood burning pizza oven cooking pizza between 800 and 900 degrees – two minutes and it’s done! (This one is for Amy. Kaitlyn, yours is on its way this weekend, I think.) I had La Ghiotta, the Glutton. This had sausage, prosciutto and an egg dropped in the middle. Heavenly. They don’t roll/puncture their dough after spreading it out, so you get bubbles in the crust which add a great texture. The tomato sauce is just tomatoes….no sugar, no paste, and as far as I can tell, no seasoning or olive oil either. Maybe, just maybe, some salt. But I think it’s just straight, authentic, simple, fresh, high-quality tomatoes. Just a few nice chunks of sausage and all of it covered with gently rippled sheets of delicate prosciutto and a nice glow of cooking egg white sitting in the middle. When I stabbed at the middle the runny egg yolk covered the middle of the pizza. The crust on the edges was done and crisp, but the middle, by virtue of the sauce and egg, stayed a bit soggy….perfect Neapolitan pizza…a work of culinary artistic beauty! Tasted great too.
We got out of town today to three amazing places. The first was Greccio. We arrived here after what appeared to be a near vertical ascent into the mountains. This is an important Franciscan site because Francis came here to contemplate, meditate or pray often in a very small, dark cave. This opportunity to reflect in solitude is vital to his experience and development. As one participant put it, could solitude be the only thing he “owned” or had any control over. Words really can’t describe the experience of being there. It is a place of near silence, nothing but you and nature way up in the hills. We sat in a small chapel and read Celano’s description of a Christmas mass here. Breathtaking! This is why there is also a small crèche museum and a small crèche behind a wall in the chapel. Outside you could see forever. As I headed up the hill I passed a couple people carrying fiddle heads, probably foraged from the woods for some amazing soup. For the first time in a month I could smell nature, and a particularly strong scent of bay trees. It is a place to be alone with your thoughts, your God, or Gods. I really did not want to leave. That said, they do have a gift shop – and the do sell liquors of truffle, nuts, and honey. I like it even better!
Then we went to Spoleto, a gorgeous town dominated by a refurbished castle, like Vianden in Luxembourg but a little larger. We started at the main piazza and Cathedral. We were here to see three things. First and most surreal, we saw the second of the two remaining writings actually written by Francis’ own hand. Next we moved to the apse of the church to see a massive and gorgeous fresco done by Fra Fillipo Lippi, one of my Renaissance favorites. Finally, we saw his tomb. Though I have only seen one prior Lippi, I can now say that his style and technique are unmistakable.
Near the same piazza we entered a museum as a means to see the inside of St. Eufemia, a 12th century Romanesque church. I am note sure, but I really love this simple, bare, austere, fortress-like churches. This one, though restored was stunning. It featured a variety of columns taken from classical sites – all kinds, little symmetry. We also got to walk among the upper spaces and see a church from a perspective I had never seen.
Finally in Spoleto, we walked up and up to the Vianden-castle to the new city museum. A brutal walk in awful heat and sun was rewarded with a striking museum. We were there to see three crucifixes – all wonderful and instructive in their own way. But the best line of the day came in response to a participant asking if we could take photos. Bill explained that he had not seen any signs and that, “after the climb up, as far as I am concerned you can take a sample.” Priceless.
After driving through rolling hills and fields of sunflowers we reached our final stop of the day, Montefalco, a very small town that looks just like the set of Cinema Paradiso. Here we visited another deconsecrated church attached to museum. This one featured a stunning apse fresco of another Francis life cycle, this one by Gozzoli. This ought to be famous….vibrant colors, detail, feeling and motion.
The day ended with a visit to Monaci, one the great pizzerias…anywhere. As you walk in the first thing you seen is the wood burning pizza oven cooking pizza between 800 and 900 degrees – two minutes and it’s done! (This one is for Amy. Kaitlyn, yours is on its way this weekend, I think.) I had La Ghiotta, the Glutton. This had sausage, prosciutto and an egg dropped in the middle. Heavenly. They don’t roll/puncture their dough after spreading it out, so you get bubbles in the crust which add a great texture. The tomato sauce is just tomatoes….no sugar, no paste, and as far as I can tell, no seasoning or olive oil either. Maybe, just maybe, some salt. But I think it’s just straight, authentic, simple, fresh, high-quality tomatoes. Just a few nice chunks of sausage and all of it covered with gently rippled sheets of delicate prosciutto and a nice glow of cooking egg white sitting in the middle. When I stabbed at the middle the runny egg yolk covered the middle of the pizza. The crust on the edges was done and crisp, but the middle, by virtue of the sauce and egg, stayed a bit soggy….perfect Neapolitan pizza…a work of culinary artistic beauty! Tasted great too.
Bastille Day?
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
I said a few posts back that I must be the luckiest guy in the world. Let me say it again…this time because I get to spend today as my 5th birthday in my 30s in Italy. That is a good life! The group sang to me before seminar…not my favorite. I actually don’t think much of birthdays, but it is nice to have in great places.
I actually started my day sitting by the fountain. This time I watched a two-man road crew sweep dirt from a road project. They swept everything into a dustpan and put it in their truck. One guy hunched over with a brush to clean the grout lines between the stones they use to pave the road. Can you imagine that in the States?! On my way to seminar at the Friary I passed a family scrubbing the road in front of their store. What a country!
In seminar a few somewhat random ideas popped into my head. First, in Eastern philosophy there is a famous painting that is used to illustrate the approaches to life of three major belief systems, The Vinegar Tasters. You see three men standing around a vinegar vat. Each man tastes the contents. One appears sour, another bitter, and finally one seems to think the vinegar is sweet. They are Confucius, Buddha, and Lao Tzu, founder of Taoism. Now Francis sees life as sweet also, though you might be hard pressed to believe it given what he sounds like in some sources. So I wonder, if the painting were to be redone using Western Christians, who would be bitter and sour?
I am also taken by Francis’ idea of being a living rebuke or example, as opposed to criticizing others. How can we all do a better of this?
Next, as we are reading II Celano, it seems apparent that Thomas is equating Francis very much with the prophet, John the Baptist. That said, who is the Jesus in the story? Just what is Francis prophesying? This will eventually cause some pull-back in future Francis re-tellings.
Consider this idea… Monks recognize that you can have it all, you just have to prune the tree to get better fruit. Your priorities need to be appropriate, and when so, you discover that you really do have it all.
There was apparently a documentary made about a Franciscan soup kitchen – for lack of a better word. Only they did not just hand out lousy food. They prepared what they could and served it at tables with linen table clothes, metal utensils – with some dignity. This sounds like an amazing idea. Do we have such a thing in Columbia? The movie was called Table for Four or something like that. I am in search of it.
We spent a good dealt of time discussing issues of Francis’ sexuality. The outcome was simply an acknowledgement that sexuality was not nearly the issue in Medieval Europe that it is in Modern America. In fact, we seemed to comfortably accept that he was likely sexually active prior to his conversion, he was after all a young man with access to money in a small town, a bon vivant. But as only Bill can put it, that’s not to say that he was out, “bumpin’ and grindin’ with half the honeys of Assisi.” Ultimately we need to understand that in the 12th century the idea of romantic love was about as new as the idea of a money economy.
In the afternoon we spent about 90 minutes in the upper chapel, home to what many believe to be the greatest collection of Giotto frescoes in the world. The reality…this is the greatest collection of frescoes, not necessarily by Giotto, as scholars readily accept that he probably had a relatively small hand in here. Bill explained the entire cycle of not just the Francis works, but the corollary Old Testament and New Testament works above and around. Simply amazing. I have had all this explained to me before, but never with such clarity or attention to detail. I know have spent more time in this church in the last two days than I have in four prior visits total. A phenomenal experience.
A small group of us celebrated my birthday at what many consider to be the nicest place in town, the Fortezza. I had a great dinner….wild boar prosciutto, papperdelle with lamb, lamb stew with porcinis, panna cotta and berries, and a glass of grappa.
I said a few posts back that I must be the luckiest guy in the world. Let me say it again…this time because I get to spend today as my 5th birthday in my 30s in Italy. That is a good life! The group sang to me before seminar…not my favorite. I actually don’t think much of birthdays, but it is nice to have in great places.
I actually started my day sitting by the fountain. This time I watched a two-man road crew sweep dirt from a road project. They swept everything into a dustpan and put it in their truck. One guy hunched over with a brush to clean the grout lines between the stones they use to pave the road. Can you imagine that in the States?! On my way to seminar at the Friary I passed a family scrubbing the road in front of their store. What a country!
In seminar a few somewhat random ideas popped into my head. First, in Eastern philosophy there is a famous painting that is used to illustrate the approaches to life of three major belief systems, The Vinegar Tasters. You see three men standing around a vinegar vat. Each man tastes the contents. One appears sour, another bitter, and finally one seems to think the vinegar is sweet. They are Confucius, Buddha, and Lao Tzu, founder of Taoism. Now Francis sees life as sweet also, though you might be hard pressed to believe it given what he sounds like in some sources. So I wonder, if the painting were to be redone using Western Christians, who would be bitter and sour?
I am also taken by Francis’ idea of being a living rebuke or example, as opposed to criticizing others. How can we all do a better of this?
Next, as we are reading II Celano, it seems apparent that Thomas is equating Francis very much with the prophet, John the Baptist. That said, who is the Jesus in the story? Just what is Francis prophesying? This will eventually cause some pull-back in future Francis re-tellings.
Consider this idea… Monks recognize that you can have it all, you just have to prune the tree to get better fruit. Your priorities need to be appropriate, and when so, you discover that you really do have it all.
There was apparently a documentary made about a Franciscan soup kitchen – for lack of a better word. Only they did not just hand out lousy food. They prepared what they could and served it at tables with linen table clothes, metal utensils – with some dignity. This sounds like an amazing idea. Do we have such a thing in Columbia? The movie was called Table for Four or something like that. I am in search of it.
We spent a good dealt of time discussing issues of Francis’ sexuality. The outcome was simply an acknowledgement that sexuality was not nearly the issue in Medieval Europe that it is in Modern America. In fact, we seemed to comfortably accept that he was likely sexually active prior to his conversion, he was after all a young man with access to money in a small town, a bon vivant. But as only Bill can put it, that’s not to say that he was out, “bumpin’ and grindin’ with half the honeys of Assisi.” Ultimately we need to understand that in the 12th century the idea of romantic love was about as new as the idea of a money economy.
In the afternoon we spent about 90 minutes in the upper chapel, home to what many believe to be the greatest collection of Giotto frescoes in the world. The reality…this is the greatest collection of frescoes, not necessarily by Giotto, as scholars readily accept that he probably had a relatively small hand in here. Bill explained the entire cycle of not just the Francis works, but the corollary Old Testament and New Testament works above and around. Simply amazing. I have had all this explained to me before, but never with such clarity or attention to detail. I know have spent more time in this church in the last two days than I have in four prior visits total. A phenomenal experience.
A small group of us celebrated my birthday at what many consider to be the nicest place in town, the Fortezza. I had a great dinner….wild boar prosciutto, papperdelle with lamb, lamb stew with porcinis, panna cotta and berries, and a glass of grappa.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Assisi
Monday, July 13, 2009
We began today with a leisurely stroll down to the basilica. We met the friar in charge of the library and waved to the guard. We are meeting in the Friary, beyond public access, so they need to know us so we don’t get stopped everyday. We made our way to our room, the Chapter Room. It happens to be just over a railing from where the public walks when moving from the upper chapel to the lower; we are not to look like tourists so we need to be careful where we stand and how we dress.
In seminar we discussed the second Celano biography. The big question that came out to me was…If we want to create change, which is more effective….speaking truth to power or speaking truth to those we are close to? Somebody has to speak truth to power and it should be done, frequently with some force. But I think real change only comes when we work within a smaller venue. But creating change is hard and people have done it with all different methods. What works for you?
During our break I sat in the crypt for about 15 minutes. I am not sure I know a more spiritual place on earth. I just sat and thought, trying to flesh out some ideas.
After a delicious lunch at Trattoria Al Camino Vecchio, another place I had been before – I had more truffles today – we headed to the lower chapel for Bill’s explanation of all the major frescoes down there. What an amazing place. His explanation was phenomenal. But the most captivating part to me was his explanation of the layout relative to how a medieval pilgrim would see the chapel. He showed exactly the cycle of the stories they would witness. It got me thinking about other events or places that have a certain order of experiences or activities that heighten the event. Is a Notre Dame football game enhanced by first seeing the band on the steps of the main hall, a stop at the grotto and watching the players exit mass? Do I enhance the experience when I guide students down the right side of a sculpture hall before having them step out into the middle to see the Nike of Somathrace at the top of the stairs? Is a ritualized story-telling part of the experience that enhances the story? Are New Years Day football games better with clam dip and Ruffles? Could this be why certain foods are always part of certain holidays? Does the “story” taste different if we approach it with certain ritual?
I was also amazed by the quiet in the lower chapel. I have only been here in the late morning – and it’s always mobbed. But late this afternoon we almost had the chapel to ourselves. That is surreal, and I hope I wrap my brain around that soon. I get three weeks to see all of that basilica at virtually any time of day I want. Crazy!
We began today with a leisurely stroll down to the basilica. We met the friar in charge of the library and waved to the guard. We are meeting in the Friary, beyond public access, so they need to know us so we don’t get stopped everyday. We made our way to our room, the Chapter Room. It happens to be just over a railing from where the public walks when moving from the upper chapel to the lower; we are not to look like tourists so we need to be careful where we stand and how we dress.
In seminar we discussed the second Celano biography. The big question that came out to me was…If we want to create change, which is more effective….speaking truth to power or speaking truth to those we are close to? Somebody has to speak truth to power and it should be done, frequently with some force. But I think real change only comes when we work within a smaller venue. But creating change is hard and people have done it with all different methods. What works for you?
During our break I sat in the crypt for about 15 minutes. I am not sure I know a more spiritual place on earth. I just sat and thought, trying to flesh out some ideas.
After a delicious lunch at Trattoria Al Camino Vecchio, another place I had been before – I had more truffles today – we headed to the lower chapel for Bill’s explanation of all the major frescoes down there. What an amazing place. His explanation was phenomenal. But the most captivating part to me was his explanation of the layout relative to how a medieval pilgrim would see the chapel. He showed exactly the cycle of the stories they would witness. It got me thinking about other events or places that have a certain order of experiences or activities that heighten the event. Is a Notre Dame football game enhanced by first seeing the band on the steps of the main hall, a stop at the grotto and watching the players exit mass? Do I enhance the experience when I guide students down the right side of a sculpture hall before having them step out into the middle to see the Nike of Somathrace at the top of the stairs? Is a ritualized story-telling part of the experience that enhances the story? Are New Years Day football games better with clam dip and Ruffles? Could this be why certain foods are always part of certain holidays? Does the “story” taste different if we approach it with certain ritual?
I was also amazed by the quiet in the lower chapel. I have only been here in the late morning – and it’s always mobbed. But late this afternoon we almost had the chapel to ourselves. That is surreal, and I hope I wrap my brain around that soon. I get three weeks to see all of that basilica at virtually any time of day I want. Crazy!
Amazing Assisi
Monday, July 13, 2009
At 7:30am, while the rest of the developed world is stuck in traffic jams and depressing news reports, Assisi seems to be caught in a time warp. Like an opening scene in some Italian romance like Cinema Paradiso or Life is Beautiful, Assisi wakes up late to bright sunshine, chirping birds, policemen walking to work carrying their hats and whistles, and bakers delivering bread in crates to hotels and restaurants.
I walked out of my hotel this morning to the sound of near-silence. There was a man outside singing while pruning flowers on a restaurant terrace.
Maybe one car per minute came up the hill. A couple of old men spoke with each other as if they had not seen each other in years, but you know they had coffee together just last night. A car filled with nuns drove by. This town is simply perfect in the morning. The air is clean and crystal blue. The only constant sound is that of the central fountain.
At breakfast the hotel has prunes, pears, peaches, cheeses, salami, perfectly crunchy, little rolls, and coffee strong enough to raise the dead and thick enough to clog a sink. I love this town.
Getting closer to 8:30 the first Japanese village rolls into the square, cameras blazing. The sun is coming up and you can begin to feel the day’s heat. The polizia has made his way to his post. You just know it will be different very, very soon.
At 7:30am, while the rest of the developed world is stuck in traffic jams and depressing news reports, Assisi seems to be caught in a time warp. Like an opening scene in some Italian romance like Cinema Paradiso or Life is Beautiful, Assisi wakes up late to bright sunshine, chirping birds, policemen walking to work carrying their hats and whistles, and bakers delivering bread in crates to hotels and restaurants.
I walked out of my hotel this morning to the sound of near-silence. There was a man outside singing while pruning flowers on a restaurant terrace.
Maybe one car per minute came up the hill. A couple of old men spoke with each other as if they had not seen each other in years, but you know they had coffee together just last night. A car filled with nuns drove by. This town is simply perfect in the morning. The air is clean and crystal blue. The only constant sound is that of the central fountain.At breakfast the hotel has prunes, pears, peaches, cheeses, salami, perfectly crunchy, little rolls, and coffee strong enough to raise the dead and thick enough to clog a sink. I love this town.
Getting closer to 8:30 the first Japanese village rolls into the square, cameras blazing. The sun is coming up and you can begin to feel the day’s heat. The polizia has made his way to his post. You just know it will be different very, very soon.
Italian Trains
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Today was to be fairly easy…a leisurely morning. Hang out for a few hours in the train station, sit on a train for a few hours, grab a bus to within a few blocks of the hotel and check in by 4 or so. Traveling in Italy can never be that easy.
I knew where we were going and led 7 of us into the train station and right to the platform. Then I turned around and discovered that only one was with me. No big deal, they can find their way. An hour later…nothing…except another NEH person who wasn’t with the original group. So I got up tp validate my ticket and look around to see if I could find anyone. I found ‘em…all stressed because there was a train strike and it seemed that the trains going our direction were the first to shut down. I saw on the board that our train was “soppresso”….I was hoping that was short for sopressetta – a lovely cold cut. No such luck. We needed to find another way. Fortunately between our beloved assistant and one NEHer who has a lot of experience here, we did find our way north via another route, a train change, which was late, and a bus. We got to Assisi late, but we got here.
Though I have been to Assisi before, I have never made to the east side of the city, nor have I been here at night. It is amazing. As one of us said, if Disney wanted a set for a movie set in Medieval Italy, this would be it. I am going to love spending three weeks here. My sinuses have already cleared up after the pollution and filth of Roma.
Today was to be fairly easy…a leisurely morning. Hang out for a few hours in the train station, sit on a train for a few hours, grab a bus to within a few blocks of the hotel and check in by 4 or so. Traveling in Italy can never be that easy.
I knew where we were going and led 7 of us into the train station and right to the platform. Then I turned around and discovered that only one was with me. No big deal, they can find their way. An hour later…nothing…except another NEH person who wasn’t with the original group. So I got up tp validate my ticket and look around to see if I could find anyone. I found ‘em…all stressed because there was a train strike and it seemed that the trains going our direction were the first to shut down. I saw on the board that our train was “soppresso”….I was hoping that was short for sopressetta – a lovely cold cut. No such luck. We needed to find another way. Fortunately between our beloved assistant and one NEHer who has a lot of experience here, we did find our way north via another route, a train change, which was late, and a bus. We got to Assisi late, but we got here.
Though I have been to Assisi before, I have never made to the east side of the city, nor have I been here at night. It is amazing. As one of us said, if Disney wanted a set for a movie set in Medieval Italy, this would be it. I am going to love spending three weeks here. My sinuses have already cleared up after the pollution and filth of Roma.
Lazy Day in Roma
Saturday, July 11, 2009
After yesterday, today had to be easy. I just hung around the hotel and did some reading a writing before heading out for a long walk. I took in Michelangelo’s Moses – never miss that. Then I headed past the Coliseum. Not a single merchant or promoter said a word to me. It was great. Maybe I was really fitting in and didn’t look too much like a foreign tourist! Than, as I was approaching Circus Maximus, I came up behind an American couple talking about American and Italian fashion. As I passed the woman said to her husband, “See, that’s a bit American.” He said, “eh,” not completely agreeing. YES, I blended in…at least a little. Eventually I ended up walking by my favorite spot for coconut ice cream – which I paired with a really mild lemon – and watching the finger puppet man in Piazza Navona. He’s been performing at Piazza Navona for at least ten years and has a banner that says 1809-2009 – but he’s not that old! Check him out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jd7FmPxx7JI . He’s great, and I have to admit, there is a little someth
ing different in seeing him perform Smooth Criminal now. If the link doesn’t work look up Marcel Gorgone at Piazza Navona – you will laugh. Then I went to the Pantheon and just had a seat on the wall to the right side of the piazza. Even though tour groups drive me nuts, as do loud Americans/Germans/Aussies/Kiwis/Japanese, I still enjoy just sitting and people watching in a place like this. You genuinely see the world go by. And you see American siblings fight, American teens zombie-walk though yet another site, couples in love light up and well-informed travelers round the corner and oooh and aaahhh when they see the façade. Makes me wonder about myself and all my various reactions and behaviors while traveling since I was a teenager.
About 7pm some NEH friends showed up and we strolled over to the Trevi Fountain. What a mob scene. It’s a great fountain, and throwing coins has always worked – I have been to Rome six times now – but it is a pickpocket’s heaven. Then we split up a little. Some wanted to eat now, others later. The group I was with walked up to the Spanish Steps. Sadly we got there in time to watch the dumb American college students all meeting to be taken advantage of by one of the Rome’s newest businesses…The Roman Pub Crawl. We Came, We saw, We Crawled. ‘Cuz you know, that’s something you just can’t do back home in South Bend or Lincoln or Austin! Mostly girls all tarted up and excited to go get completely wasted in Rome and then preyed upon by stupid guys just smart enough to show up where the drunk girls are. But we also got there in time to have an appetizer of lovely roasted chestnuts and a walk down the via Condotti past the Hugo Boss, Cartier, Feragamo and Prada stores.
Finally we arrived at dinner, a place I had been a few times before, Ristorante Maccheroni, but only for lunch. Then it is quiet and secluded, but for dinner it was mobbed. We had a nice meal – I had pasta with black truffles, a nice indulgence, and we headed back to our hotels. We have a busy travel day tomorrow – must get ourselves to Assisi by tomorrow night.
After yesterday, today had to be easy. I just hung around the hotel and did some reading a writing before heading out for a long walk. I took in Michelangelo’s Moses – never miss that. Then I headed past the Coliseum. Not a single merchant or promoter said a word to me. It was great. Maybe I was really fitting in and didn’t look too much like a foreign tourist! Than, as I was approaching Circus Maximus, I came up behind an American couple talking about American and Italian fashion. As I passed the woman said to her husband, “See, that’s a bit American.” He said, “eh,” not completely agreeing. YES, I blended in…at least a little. Eventually I ended up walking by my favorite spot for coconut ice cream – which I paired with a really mild lemon – and watching the finger puppet man in Piazza Navona. He’s been performing at Piazza Navona for at least ten years and has a banner that says 1809-2009 – but he’s not that old! Check him out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jd7FmPxx7JI . He’s great, and I have to admit, there is a little someth
ing different in seeing him perform Smooth Criminal now. If the link doesn’t work look up Marcel Gorgone at Piazza Navona – you will laugh. Then I went to the Pantheon and just had a seat on the wall to the right side of the piazza. Even though tour groups drive me nuts, as do loud Americans/Germans/Aussies/Kiwis/Japanese, I still enjoy just sitting and people watching in a place like this. You genuinely see the world go by. And you see American siblings fight, American teens zombie-walk though yet another site, couples in love light up and well-informed travelers round the corner and oooh and aaahhh when they see the façade. Makes me wonder about myself and all my various reactions and behaviors while traveling since I was a teenager.About 7pm some NEH friends showed up and we strolled over to the Trevi Fountain. What a mob scene. It’s a great fountain, and throwing coins has always worked – I have been to Rome six times now – but it is a pickpocket’s heaven. Then we split up a little. Some wanted to eat now, others later. The group I was with walked up to the Spanish Steps. Sadly we got there in time to watch the dumb American college students all meeting to be taken advantage of by one of the Rome’s newest businesses…The Roman Pub Crawl. We Came, We saw, We Crawled. ‘Cuz you know, that’s something you just can’t do back home in South Bend or Lincoln or Austin! Mostly girls all tarted up and excited to go get completely wasted in Rome and then preyed upon by stupid guys just smart enough to show up where the drunk girls are. But we also got there in time to have an appetizer of lovely roasted chestnuts and a walk down the via Condotti past the Hugo Boss, Cartier, Feragamo and Prada stores.
Finally we arrived at dinner, a place I had been a few times before, Ristorante Maccheroni, but only for lunch. Then it is quiet and secluded, but for dinner it was mobbed. We had a nice meal – I had pasta with black truffles, a nice indulgence, and we headed back to our hotels. We have a busy travel day tomorrow – must get ourselves to Assisi by tomorrow night.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Roma
Friday, July 10, 2009
What a phenomenally overwhelming and exhausting day! We left Siena on the 6am bus to Rome. Arrived by 9am and were in our first church by about 9:30. Between then and 5:45 we visited 9 different sites. I was thrilled about this. Though I had been to Rome five times prior, all these sites but one would be new to me.
We began at San Pudenzia to see the oldest Christian mosaic in the world, created around 390. This single work ends up being the starting point or base for many images of the Christian world. Using Roman iconography, the artist was able to adapt familiar imagery to make Christianity more appealing in a world where there were very, very few Christians.
Then we headed to Santa Prassede to see a 9th century mosaic. This church is important because it is the final resting place for 2300 bodies, believed to be martyrs from the Roman Empire, that were moved here from the Catacombs. The church was commissioned by Pope Pascal I and he is celebrated throughout. The mosaics were amazing, best I have seen. They immediately reminded me of what I studied of the Justinian mosaics in Ravenna. While those are far more famous, these were just as great, at least in my opinion. There was also a very small chapel off the nave in which you can see the mosaics up close. Each tile is made of glass and laid on the surface, rarely flat. By not making all the tiles level the artist allows the images to have texture and to change and shift as light hits it from different angles.
Then we headed to Mary Maggiore, a massive church covered in frescoes, some dating to the 5th century, the ones in the apse dating to the 13th. The church is important to many because it has a painting of Mary supposedly painted by Luke, and its major relic is wood from the manger of Jesus. This was also our first church with a massive baldicchino over the alter, something we would see a few times over the day. We had a few minutes to stop and breathe all this in. For me this is a chance to people watch and reflect. I saw one woman who seemed to be seeing the entire church through the lens of her camera. Made me think about how maybe it’s nice sometimes to not have a camera. I saw a 5 year old start a tantrum – ugly cry, throwing things. Some things just are not going to matter to a kid that age. Is he going to remember seeing one of the most important churches in Christendom? I saw teens walking around bored – do they care? Is there a way to prepare them in such a way that they might care? And then there were the people there for the purest of reasons. They were not looking at art. They were not crossing it off their to-do list to get their “Been there done that” merit badge. They weren’t here because Rick Steves told them to. They here for prayer, contemplation, perhaps hoping for heeling of some sort. Is it possible for all of us to enjoy the same space and get something from it, or do the tourists, travelers, photogs, and children distract from the real intent of the space?
Then we headed over to the Lateran, the long-time seat of the Pope, and still official seat of the Diocese of Rome, meaning this is still the seat of the Bishop of Rome (the Pope), while he also has obvious duties at the “new” seat of the Roman Catholic Church, the Vatican. We started our visit at this complex by walking past the Sancta Santorum. I knew nothing about this, but now want to know more. In this building there is a stair case supposedly taken from the palace of Pontius Pilate, therefore, they contain the blood of Jesus. Obviously then this is a serious pilgrimage site. Pilgrims come and walk up the staircase on their knees in prayer. And there were pilgrims here today. And yet again I was wondering how appropriate it is that we be here watching. These are also the stairs that Luther visited and wrote of in the early 16th century. Then we headed over to the church. It was massive. The huge front doors date to the 4th century. The property that it sits on was once the Palace of the Lateran and was donated by Constantine in the early 4th. The Gothic Baldacchino over the alter contains the heads of John and Paul. As side chapel contains the table from the last supper – if you believe that sort of thing. Pope Innocent III’s tomb is now here, arguably the most important pope in history. There is a mosaic featuring the first use of Francis in iconography. The walls are lined with massive baroque statuary. In short, this place was almost sensory overload on a par with St. Peter’s.
After a lunch break that allowed most of us to drop our bags at our hotels, we headed to what I was most anticipating, San Clemente. The is a 12th century church that sits on top of a 5th or 6th century church which sits on top of an ancient Roman Temple and neighborhood which sits on top of Roman sewer lines likely built about 2000 years ago. I had seen this place on some travel shows and it looked amazing. As Bill said, it is a perfect place to set a murder mystery, which in fact it has been. Interestingly, it is fronted by a cloister. This is rare and evidence of its ancient roots in Christianity. It used to be… a long, long time ago – that no one who had not been baptized could enter a church. Therefore, those who wished to attend services before baptism listened from outside in a cloistered area. In the church we looked at 12th century frescoes with a stunning tree of life and intricate vines – stunning. Then we headed downstairs. First we saw a 6th century fresco of San Clemente describing his underwater sanctuary. We also saw the tombs of Saints Cyril (as in the Cyrillic alphabet) and Methodius. Down further still we saw a Mithraic temple and school and then a wealthy person’s house with gorgeous small brick tiled floors – all well underground, wet, dank, sticky and dark. All of this had been filled with rubble over time to build the next layer of the city above. This why Rome’s subway system sucks. Every time someone digs a hole in this town they uncover history and it becomes an archeological site.
Then we headed to the Church of the Quattro Coronate, or the Four Crowned saints. This is a chapter house for Augustinian nuns and featured a 13th century fresco telling the (false) story of the Donation of Constantine.
Then we went towards the Roman Forum to see the Church of Saints Cosmos and Damien. This church’s floor was lifted way up off its original level which makes it feel aesthetically and proportionally completely wrong. On the other hand, it allows us to see the apse frescoes much better as we’re probably 60-80 feet closer to them. The church is in a building that has been adapted from another building that had been part of the Forum, specifically the offices of the Classical medical writer, Galen. The mosaic were there to see is approaching its 1500th birthday but you would never know it. The blue of the sky in this mosaic may be the most vibrant, vivid, brilliant blue I have ever seen, rivaling the blue of the stained glass windows of Sainte-Chapelle in Paris.
Nearing total exhaustion, we headed for two more churches. First we walked around the forum and headed up the Capitoline Hill to Santa Maria Aracoelli, a church given to the Franciscans and looking anything but Franciscans. This serves as the Order’s Roman Headquarters. It seems to be swimming in gaudy crystal chandeliers. UGLY. But it did have columns “borrowed” from all sorts of other buildings from Classical Rome, meaning that ever column was different – some fluted, some not, all different capitals and bases. A church constructed from scraps.
Finally, after walking through Michelangelo’s Piazza, we went to Il Gesu, headquarters of the Jesuits. I love this church and have been in many times, mostly to look with awe at the painting on the ceiling above the nave. We spent most of our time in a small chapel looking at some baroque renditions of Francis. Not impressive. More bothersome was that we were obviously in a space reserved for quiet prayer. These church visits really present some challenges.
I am staying at the Hotel Romea, not far from the Termini station. Easy location, clean rooms, big towels, good water pressure and hot water, nice people – not all to be expected in Rome. But it cannot all be perfect. The shower drain does not exactly drain. But I would stay here again. But I can also warn you – the elevator is not dependable. Pretty, but not dependable.
Six of us decided to grab dinner at a place that Annie Shapero recommended. She told me that they had the best carbonara she has ever had and that the Carbonara Club of Italy also rates it the best. Had to go! It’s an unmarked place that even seems to be operating completely under the table. And it was amazing!!! Carbonara was a work of art. And I had a plate of two large meatballs that melted in my mouth. A wonderful meal. And quite reasonable. Then we walked through Piazza Novona where I saw that the finger puppet man is still performing. The frenzied, rushing, but frozen in place business man is still performing. And there were a couple guys playing what I can only describe as techno/hip-hop on a digerado….weird but cool. There seemed to be more caricature artists and fewer landscape artists – disappointing. But it’s Navona at night! Then past the Pantheon, which never ceases to awe me. Then home on crowded busses. Strange when a city like Rome starts to feel familiar.
What a phenomenally overwhelming and exhausting day! We left Siena on the 6am bus to Rome. Arrived by 9am and were in our first church by about 9:30. Between then and 5:45 we visited 9 different sites. I was thrilled about this. Though I had been to Rome five times prior, all these sites but one would be new to me.
We began at San Pudenzia to see the oldest Christian mosaic in the world, created around 390. This single work ends up being the starting point or base for many images of the Christian world. Using Roman iconography, the artist was able to adapt familiar imagery to make Christianity more appealing in a world where there were very, very few Christians.
Then we headed to Santa Prassede to see a 9th century mosaic. This church is important because it is the final resting place for 2300 bodies, believed to be martyrs from the Roman Empire, that were moved here from the Catacombs. The church was commissioned by Pope Pascal I and he is celebrated throughout. The mosaics were amazing, best I have seen. They immediately reminded me of what I studied of the Justinian mosaics in Ravenna. While those are far more famous, these were just as great, at least in my opinion. There was also a very small chapel off the nave in which you can see the mosaics up close. Each tile is made of glass and laid on the surface, rarely flat. By not making all the tiles level the artist allows the images to have texture and to change and shift as light hits it from different angles.
Then we headed to Mary Maggiore, a massive church covered in frescoes, some dating to the 5th century, the ones in the apse dating to the 13th. The church is important to many because it has a painting of Mary supposedly painted by Luke, and its major relic is wood from the manger of Jesus. This was also our first church with a massive baldicchino over the alter, something we would see a few times over the day. We had a few minutes to stop and breathe all this in. For me this is a chance to people watch and reflect. I saw one woman who seemed to be seeing the entire church through the lens of her camera. Made me think about how maybe it’s nice sometimes to not have a camera. I saw a 5 year old start a tantrum – ugly cry, throwing things. Some things just are not going to matter to a kid that age. Is he going to remember seeing one of the most important churches in Christendom? I saw teens walking around bored – do they care? Is there a way to prepare them in such a way that they might care? And then there were the people there for the purest of reasons. They were not looking at art. They were not crossing it off their to-do list to get their “Been there done that” merit badge. They weren’t here because Rick Steves told them to. They here for prayer, contemplation, perhaps hoping for heeling of some sort. Is it possible for all of us to enjoy the same space and get something from it, or do the tourists, travelers, photogs, and children distract from the real intent of the space?
Then we headed over to the Lateran, the long-time seat of the Pope, and still official seat of the Diocese of Rome, meaning this is still the seat of the Bishop of Rome (the Pope), while he also has obvious duties at the “new” seat of the Roman Catholic Church, the Vatican. We started our visit at this complex by walking past the Sancta Santorum. I knew nothing about this, but now want to know more. In this building there is a stair case supposedly taken from the palace of Pontius Pilate, therefore, they contain the blood of Jesus. Obviously then this is a serious pilgrimage site. Pilgrims come and walk up the staircase on their knees in prayer. And there were pilgrims here today. And yet again I was wondering how appropriate it is that we be here watching. These are also the stairs that Luther visited and wrote of in the early 16th century. Then we headed over to the church. It was massive. The huge front doors date to the 4th century. The property that it sits on was once the Palace of the Lateran and was donated by Constantine in the early 4th. The Gothic Baldacchino over the alter contains the heads of John and Paul. As side chapel contains the table from the last supper – if you believe that sort of thing. Pope Innocent III’s tomb is now here, arguably the most important pope in history. There is a mosaic featuring the first use of Francis in iconography. The walls are lined with massive baroque statuary. In short, this place was almost sensory overload on a par with St. Peter’s.
After a lunch break that allowed most of us to drop our bags at our hotels, we headed to what I was most anticipating, San Clemente. The is a 12th century church that sits on top of a 5th or 6th century church which sits on top of an ancient Roman Temple and neighborhood which sits on top of Roman sewer lines likely built about 2000 years ago. I had seen this place on some travel shows and it looked amazing. As Bill said, it is a perfect place to set a murder mystery, which in fact it has been. Interestingly, it is fronted by a cloister. This is rare and evidence of its ancient roots in Christianity. It used to be… a long, long time ago – that no one who had not been baptized could enter a church. Therefore, those who wished to attend services before baptism listened from outside in a cloistered area. In the church we looked at 12th century frescoes with a stunning tree of life and intricate vines – stunning. Then we headed downstairs. First we saw a 6th century fresco of San Clemente describing his underwater sanctuary. We also saw the tombs of Saints Cyril (as in the Cyrillic alphabet) and Methodius. Down further still we saw a Mithraic temple and school and then a wealthy person’s house with gorgeous small brick tiled floors – all well underground, wet, dank, sticky and dark. All of this had been filled with rubble over time to build the next layer of the city above. This why Rome’s subway system sucks. Every time someone digs a hole in this town they uncover history and it becomes an archeological site.
Then we headed to the Church of the Quattro Coronate, or the Four Crowned saints. This is a chapter house for Augustinian nuns and featured a 13th century fresco telling the (false) story of the Donation of Constantine.
Then we went towards the Roman Forum to see the Church of Saints Cosmos and Damien. This church’s floor was lifted way up off its original level which makes it feel aesthetically and proportionally completely wrong. On the other hand, it allows us to see the apse frescoes much better as we’re probably 60-80 feet closer to them. The church is in a building that has been adapted from another building that had been part of the Forum, specifically the offices of the Classical medical writer, Galen. The mosaic were there to see is approaching its 1500th birthday but you would never know it. The blue of the sky in this mosaic may be the most vibrant, vivid, brilliant blue I have ever seen, rivaling the blue of the stained glass windows of Sainte-Chapelle in Paris.
Nearing total exhaustion, we headed for two more churches. First we walked around the forum and headed up the Capitoline Hill to Santa Maria Aracoelli, a church given to the Franciscans and looking anything but Franciscans. This serves as the Order’s Roman Headquarters. It seems to be swimming in gaudy crystal chandeliers. UGLY. But it did have columns “borrowed” from all sorts of other buildings from Classical Rome, meaning that ever column was different – some fluted, some not, all different capitals and bases. A church constructed from scraps.
Finally, after walking through Michelangelo’s Piazza, we went to Il Gesu, headquarters of the Jesuits. I love this church and have been in many times, mostly to look with awe at the painting on the ceiling above the nave. We spent most of our time in a small chapel looking at some baroque renditions of Francis. Not impressive. More bothersome was that we were obviously in a space reserved for quiet prayer. These church visits really present some challenges.
I am staying at the Hotel Romea, not far from the Termini station. Easy location, clean rooms, big towels, good water pressure and hot water, nice people – not all to be expected in Rome. But it cannot all be perfect. The shower drain does not exactly drain. But I would stay here again. But I can also warn you – the elevator is not dependable. Pretty, but not dependable.
Six of us decided to grab dinner at a place that Annie Shapero recommended. She told me that they had the best carbonara she has ever had and that the Carbonara Club of Italy also rates it the best. Had to go! It’s an unmarked place that even seems to be operating completely under the table. And it was amazing!!! Carbonara was a work of art. And I had a plate of two large meatballs that melted in my mouth. A wonderful meal. And quite reasonable. Then we walked through Piazza Novona where I saw that the finger puppet man is still performing. The frenzied, rushing, but frozen in place business man is still performing. And there were a couple guys playing what I can only describe as techno/hip-hop on a digerado….weird but cool. There seemed to be more caricature artists and fewer landscape artists – disappointing. But it’s Navona at night! Then past the Pantheon, which never ceases to awe me. Then home on crowded busses. Strange when a city like Rome starts to feel familiar.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Goodbye, Siena
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Today is the last in Siena. I have learned a few random things I would like to share. First, turns out that Bill has been a part of the creation of the NEH Seminars for school teachers right from the very beginning, since the early 1980s. Apparently he is even on a first name basis with Bill Bennett. He told us that one of the major purposes was to give teachers something they rarely had…time. The point was to provide teachers a chance to learn about a relatively narrow topic at a pace that allowed both a deep richness and time for reflection, processing and contemplation, They knew that we simply never had those things; we frequently learned the basics, invested our own time to give it depth, and did so while being swamped with the multitude of other responsibilities teachers have. Just hearing that from someone not in a public high school every day was wonderfully validating. And it just these things that this NEH has given us. While we have certainly been busy and have been reading a great deal, we have had the chance to speak with each other in seminar and socially. We have had the chance to go back to some cites and re-investigate. We have been given the luxury of time and it is a beautiful thing.
The next idea has been alluded too a few times in seminar, even more socially, and is always a part of all of our growth: How do we put the lives of our role models to work in our own lives while not directly imitating them? For example, how do you best live a Christ-like life without being poor and celibate? Can you emulate Gandhi without drinking your own urine? Can you emulate Francis without denying yourself every worldly pleasure? Can you emulate King without embracing prison? Assuming the answer is yes to all these, how do you do so without seeming to cherry-pick, selecting just the parts that are comfortable or easy for you? Is something then lost in the process? No doubt, these are questions Francis faced in trying to be Christ-like. But do we not all face the same challenge? Can you be like Larry Bird without shooting 1000 free throws everyday? Are you a fraud if you don’t? Where do we strike the balance between living in and of this world while also wishing to be like our heroes or role models?
Finally, playing off some of our discussion from yesterday, it has been observed that virtually no poor people become early Franciscans. Why not? What is the role of economic or social class in providing one that freedom to embrace poverty and self-denial? In a sense, it is just one more luxury or privilege some classes have, the privilege to choose self-denial.
In the afternoon we visited the ancient hospital, founded around the year 1000. That is not a typo. It did not close until 1996 and has been being converted since then into a giant museum of all sorts. We saw a few works of art, nothing extraordinary, but I was struck by a thought. I am learning how to read again, only this time I am learning how to read painting and sculpture. And Bill is an amazing teacher. While the art we saw today was interesting, the building was really something. It just sort of ambles down the side of a hill for about eight stories. It seems as though a new portion was added every century or so. It reminded me of sleeping on the USS Yorktown in Charleston, SC. No matter how much you explore, every time around you find a new room, a new staircase. I suspect for the next 30 years the museum will be unveiling some new fresco or a new chapel in some tucked away corner people in the 19th century forgot about after they stored the old bed pans in it.
Today is the last in Siena. I have learned a few random things I would like to share. First, turns out that Bill has been a part of the creation of the NEH Seminars for school teachers right from the very beginning, since the early 1980s. Apparently he is even on a first name basis with Bill Bennett. He told us that one of the major purposes was to give teachers something they rarely had…time. The point was to provide teachers a chance to learn about a relatively narrow topic at a pace that allowed both a deep richness and time for reflection, processing and contemplation, They knew that we simply never had those things; we frequently learned the basics, invested our own time to give it depth, and did so while being swamped with the multitude of other responsibilities teachers have. Just hearing that from someone not in a public high school every day was wonderfully validating. And it just these things that this NEH has given us. While we have certainly been busy and have been reading a great deal, we have had the chance to speak with each other in seminar and socially. We have had the chance to go back to some cites and re-investigate. We have been given the luxury of time and it is a beautiful thing.
The next idea has been alluded too a few times in seminar, even more socially, and is always a part of all of our growth: How do we put the lives of our role models to work in our own lives while not directly imitating them? For example, how do you best live a Christ-like life without being poor and celibate? Can you emulate Gandhi without drinking your own urine? Can you emulate Francis without denying yourself every worldly pleasure? Can you emulate King without embracing prison? Assuming the answer is yes to all these, how do you do so without seeming to cherry-pick, selecting just the parts that are comfortable or easy for you? Is something then lost in the process? No doubt, these are questions Francis faced in trying to be Christ-like. But do we not all face the same challenge? Can you be like Larry Bird without shooting 1000 free throws everyday? Are you a fraud if you don’t? Where do we strike the balance between living in and of this world while also wishing to be like our heroes or role models?
Finally, playing off some of our discussion from yesterday, it has been observed that virtually no poor people become early Franciscans. Why not? What is the role of economic or social class in providing one that freedom to embrace poverty and self-denial? In a sense, it is just one more luxury or privilege some classes have, the privilege to choose self-denial.
In the afternoon we visited the ancient hospital, founded around the year 1000. That is not a typo. It did not close until 1996 and has been being converted since then into a giant museum of all sorts. We saw a few works of art, nothing extraordinary, but I was struck by a thought. I am learning how to read again, only this time I am learning how to read painting and sculpture. And Bill is an amazing teacher. While the art we saw today was interesting, the building was really something. It just sort of ambles down the side of a hill for about eight stories. It seems as though a new portion was added every century or so. It reminded me of sleeping on the USS Yorktown in Charleston, SC. No matter how much you explore, every time around you find a new room, a new staircase. I suspect for the next 30 years the museum will be unveiling some new fresco or a new chapel in some tucked away corner people in the 19th century forgot about after they stored the old bed pans in it.
Pistoia and Pescia
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Today was yet another busy day, but with more travel. Today we were in Pistoia and Pescia, towns farther north on the other side of Florence. Pistoia far exceeded my expectations. We began in the Church of San Francesco….predictable. What most impressed me was an opportunity to get into some non-public spaces that housed gorgeous frescoes, including one very elaborate stigmata scene. It was huge with a significant landscape including bears. I have seen a lot of stigmata scenes, but this really was like no other.
Then we went into San Andrea to see my fourth and final Pisano pulpit. These are so impressive in size, scope, detail and movement. While I am not an art historian, having now seen all four, I assure you, it is obvious that the same family worked on them all. The church itself was also amazing. It was one of the best examples of Romanesque church architecture I have ever seen. Little did I know that we would visit two more great examples just in Pistoia. Each of these featured all the textbook characteristics – rounded arches, flat wood ceilings, heavy stone walls with small windows, stout columns, little light – essentially adapted fortresses.
Of course we had to break for lunch. We did so right in front of the food portion of the Wednesday market. I wandered around a little, finding a butcher with whole chickens, including feet and a horse butcher. I noticed sausages in the horse butcher’s, but they weren’t cured so I had to pass – no place to cook them. My best find was a vegetable stand selling fresh San Marzano tomatoes. These are the agreed-upon best tomatoes for making a nice tomato sauce. You buy them canned in gourmet shops everywhere. A 28-ounce can will run you about $4 in the US. These fresh ones were selling for 4€ per kilo or about $2.50 a pound. I bought two for 71 cents. I sat by the cathedral, asked a friend for his Swiss Army knife so I could at least get a slice started and proceeded to eat them both like apples. Wonderful! Hardly any juice or seeds – just a nice meaty, fleshy tomato. Can I go back to canned?
A few of us decided to search for a lunch spot and ended up at a spot not far from my tomato lady. While they all had the most beautiful presentation of prosciutto and melon I have ever seen, including a small side of pecorino and a small glass of port, I went for the local pig breed. Specifically I went for pork liver wrapped in a thin sheet of pork fat in a bowl of Tuscan white, or canelinni beans with olive oil. If you like organ meat this was a work of art. I don’t know that I have ever had any liver so moist – and with the olive oil and beans!!!!!!
Then we headed back to the cathedral. Inside we treated to something I have never even heard of. In a separate closed chapel – open for us – was an alter and back piece completely covered with hammered silver and gold relief statuary. This was approximately 8 feet wide and maybe 12 feet tall – and incredible. The detail was minute and the idea that it was all silver and gold impossible to comprehend. Better yet, we were able to get right up close to it.
We ended our Pistoia visit by dropping by the museum – which was closed. But we only wanted to see one piece and they let us in! They had a phenomenally detailed and beautiful dossal, or alter piece. The artist must have used a single-haired brush to paint some of the details. And because this is a relatively unknown piece in a small museum completely lacking in crowds of tourists, we had it to ourselves – and could get very, very close to it. While the Uffizi was great, this was similar. The access and proximity was otherworldly.
I finished my Pistoia visit with some gelato – chocolate, lemon and coconut.
On to Pescia, via a sleepy bus ride through a region that seems to produce every landscape tree in all of Italy. In Pescia we were looking for just one painting in one deserted church. Specifically we were looking for the single oldest, dated, known painting of St. Francis of Assisi, painted in 1235, just 9 years after his death and one of 206 that we have that were painted within 100 years of his death in 1226. This too was in great condition, painted with incredible detail, and available to us to get extremely close. And this really was what made today special - access. With a professor like Bill, who knows where to find everything Francis-related, and a total lack of tourists outside the travel-centers of Siena, Florence and Rome, we had these works of art virtually to ourselves. Sometimes this meant asking a friar to open a private room, asking a guard to open a gate, begging a museum worker to open a room, or showing up in a town nobody visits. But it always meant feeling like the art world, or at least the Franciscan art world, was ours and our alone.
And that is why this experience thus far has far exceeded expectations. I am still searching for all the words to describe it and not sure I ever will find them. But I am finding myself looking at this art thinking to myself that I must be the luckiest guy in the world.
My time in Siena is drawing to a close. We leave for two days in Rome on Friday morning. I will be in Assisi by Sunday afternoon. I am not sure where the time went. Who spends three weeks in Siena, anyway? But after being here for Palio week, I can see why some come and never leave. The city gets in your blood. You find yourself adopting a contrada, choosing a scarf, sitting in one portion of the Campo or another, choosing a restaurant or a laundry based on location. I am not sure how or exactly when it happened, but I fell in love with Siena.
Today was yet another busy day, but with more travel. Today we were in Pistoia and Pescia, towns farther north on the other side of Florence. Pistoia far exceeded my expectations. We began in the Church of San Francesco….predictable. What most impressed me was an opportunity to get into some non-public spaces that housed gorgeous frescoes, including one very elaborate stigmata scene. It was huge with a significant landscape including bears. I have seen a lot of stigmata scenes, but this really was like no other.
Then we went into San Andrea to see my fourth and final Pisano pulpit. These are so impressive in size, scope, detail and movement. While I am not an art historian, having now seen all four, I assure you, it is obvious that the same family worked on them all. The church itself was also amazing. It was one of the best examples of Romanesque church architecture I have ever seen. Little did I know that we would visit two more great examples just in Pistoia. Each of these featured all the textbook characteristics – rounded arches, flat wood ceilings, heavy stone walls with small windows, stout columns, little light – essentially adapted fortresses.
Of course we had to break for lunch. We did so right in front of the food portion of the Wednesday market. I wandered around a little, finding a butcher with whole chickens, including feet and a horse butcher. I noticed sausages in the horse butcher’s, but they weren’t cured so I had to pass – no place to cook them. My best find was a vegetable stand selling fresh San Marzano tomatoes. These are the agreed-upon best tomatoes for making a nice tomato sauce. You buy them canned in gourmet shops everywhere. A 28-ounce can will run you about $4 in the US. These fresh ones were selling for 4€ per kilo or about $2.50 a pound. I bought two for 71 cents. I sat by the cathedral, asked a friend for his Swiss Army knife so I could at least get a slice started and proceeded to eat them both like apples. Wonderful! Hardly any juice or seeds – just a nice meaty, fleshy tomato. Can I go back to canned?
A few of us decided to search for a lunch spot and ended up at a spot not far from my tomato lady. While they all had the most beautiful presentation of prosciutto and melon I have ever seen, including a small side of pecorino and a small glass of port, I went for the local pig breed. Specifically I went for pork liver wrapped in a thin sheet of pork fat in a bowl of Tuscan white, or canelinni beans with olive oil. If you like organ meat this was a work of art. I don’t know that I have ever had any liver so moist – and with the olive oil and beans!!!!!!
Then we headed back to the cathedral. Inside we treated to something I have never even heard of. In a separate closed chapel – open for us – was an alter and back piece completely covered with hammered silver and gold relief statuary. This was approximately 8 feet wide and maybe 12 feet tall – and incredible. The detail was minute and the idea that it was all silver and gold impossible to comprehend. Better yet, we were able to get right up close to it.
We ended our Pistoia visit by dropping by the museum – which was closed. But we only wanted to see one piece and they let us in! They had a phenomenally detailed and beautiful dossal, or alter piece. The artist must have used a single-haired brush to paint some of the details. And because this is a relatively unknown piece in a small museum completely lacking in crowds of tourists, we had it to ourselves – and could get very, very close to it. While the Uffizi was great, this was similar. The access and proximity was otherworldly.
I finished my Pistoia visit with some gelato – chocolate, lemon and coconut.
On to Pescia, via a sleepy bus ride through a region that seems to produce every landscape tree in all of Italy. In Pescia we were looking for just one painting in one deserted church. Specifically we were looking for the single oldest, dated, known painting of St. Francis of Assisi, painted in 1235, just 9 years after his death and one of 206 that we have that were painted within 100 years of his death in 1226. This too was in great condition, painted with incredible detail, and available to us to get extremely close. And this really was what made today special - access. With a professor like Bill, who knows where to find everything Francis-related, and a total lack of tourists outside the travel-centers of Siena, Florence and Rome, we had these works of art virtually to ourselves. Sometimes this meant asking a friar to open a private room, asking a guard to open a gate, begging a museum worker to open a room, or showing up in a town nobody visits. But it always meant feeling like the art world, or at least the Franciscan art world, was ours and our alone.
And that is why this experience thus far has far exceeded expectations. I am still searching for all the words to describe it and not sure I ever will find them. But I am finding myself looking at this art thinking to myself that I must be the luckiest guy in the world.
My time in Siena is drawing to a close. We leave for two days in Rome on Friday morning. I will be in Assisi by Sunday afternoon. I am not sure where the time went. Who spends three weeks in Siena, anyway? But after being here for Palio week, I can see why some come and never leave. The city gets in your blood. You find yourself adopting a contrada, choosing a scarf, sitting in one portion of the Campo or another, choosing a restaurant or a laundry based on location. I am not sure how or exactly when it happened, but I fell in love with Siena.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Siena Cathedral Complex
On Tuesday we visited the entire Siena Cathedral complex. This included looking at the Duccio Maesta, one of the most importat, and in my opinion impressive, alter peices ever made. It is huge, complex and a milemarker in art history. But there was quite a bit more impressive about the complex. The first thing we looked was a set of bronze doors illustrating four times the city fathers have called on The Virgin Mary for protection, including during WWII. I appreciated seeing tradition, faith, history expressed over such an expanse of time - another panel on the door dealt with a 17th century plague. In the museum they have the original rose window, also designed by Duccio. To see a rose window at eye level, right in front of you was thrilling. The great surpirse for me was seeing Donatello's John The Baptist. I guess I am a scuplture geek, but I have always found it interesting and quite modern looking. But I had no idea I would be seeing it here. In the baptistry was a bronze frieze panel by Ghiberti that I show in class - also had no idea I would be seeing that. There were Michelangelos too - but there was so much else to see that for me, that was secondary. Also, in the cathedral I took one step closer to seeing all the Pisano pulpits. I never had any appreciation for pulpits till seeing two Pisano Pulpits in Pisa a few years ago. They are amazing....
Finally we got to go down to the crypt, only recently uncovered (2000). This included being able to see foundations going back to the 4th century.Class conversation today highlighted an issue any student of Francis needs to consider. He was raised quite wealthy and leads a life of absolute material poverty. He makes the point that he chose poverty, making his existance very different from someone who does not choose poverty but has to live with it. In looking at that in our world, what does it mean? Isn't it convenient for a wealthy kid to expirement with being a beggar, knowing he will be able to regain his wealth at the end of the day. How is that different than my fellow students at Macalester 20 years ago sleeping in boxes on the quad to raise awareness of the plight of the homeless or issues of apartheid, while sleeping in their fancy sleeping bags a stone's throw from a shower and a toilet? What should we make of this?
Tuesday night we had lovely group dinner. Bruschetta with tomatoes, olive oil, white Tuscan beans, pici and meat ragu, roasted veggies and thin-sliced beef with olive oil, tiramisu, limoncello - great conversation again, nice food, perfect weather...what more could you ask for?
Monday, July 6, 2009
Amazing Day in Firenze
Monday, July 6, 2009
Today we had a very special experience in Florence. Bill, with lots of help from the founder of The Friends of Florence, Contessa Simonetta Brandolini d'Adda, arranged for us to have a private day at the Uffizi. This is one of the great art museums in the world and is normally mobbed with people at this time of year. But they are closed on Mondays....but not for us. The visit started with a few rooms that most related to our work. Works by Martini, Cimabue, Giotto, and Duccio were our focus and were amazing. Some of these I had
seen in art history c
lasses, but this was my first visit to the Uffizi. But any visit here is highlighted by the Botticelli and Da Vinci rooms. This was beyond words. To stand in front of The Birth of Venus, Primevara, or Da Vinci's Adoration of the Magi is one thing....to do it without a crowd is all together different. I cannot begin to explain how fortunate I felt. But that was in many ways, only the beginning. We finished the visit with something very unique and almost unheard of. We exited the museum the way the Medici did when it was their offices. We exited down the Vasari corridor. This is an elevated hallway that leaves the Uffizi, heads west to the Ponte Vecchio, crosses over the shops on the bridge, continues up the street, through the second level of a church and ends up in the Piti Palace. Nobody gets to do this. This was only Bill's third time, and he has been a art historian for over 30 years. In fact, we were the last group that will see it for a long time. They are refurbishing the entire length and adding air conditioning. The entire hallway, maybe 400 meters worth, is lined with self-portraits by famous artists....Rembrandt, Velasquez, Ingres, Chagall, Durer and hundreds of others. Nevermind that we were walking a historic hallway that epitomized the excesses of wealth and provided views that are virtually never seen anywhere but postcards.Then we had lunch and the afternoon off. I chose, along with a friend, to do something else I had never done before - ascend the Duomo. This means climbing 436 steps inside the walls and the dome of the third (according to the Catholic Church, actually the fourth) largest church in the world - and the largest dome until St. Peter's in Rome and then the stadiums of our day. Not an easy climb on tired legs on a hot muggy day - but soooo worth it. An amazing view. And it was great to see the inner workings of the dome. Worth every bit of the eight euros.
After such an ardous climb I thought I deserved some gelato. I went for the most extreme - chocolate made with 70% cacao - that means dark and rich like the most extreme dark chocolate bar you have ever seen. Balanced with some nice fruity banana it was a perfect ending to an incredible day.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Another Great Dinner
Dinner at La Taverna di Giuseppe, near top of the hill in Onda Contrada, Siena
Bill’s assistant, Daniel, put together a couple special meals for us -one fairly reasonably priced and one expensive – but worth it. Tonight was the pricey one. WOW! First of all, this place is clearly OLD. They greeted us like family, largely because Daniel is treated like family. We began by going down the stairs at the back of the restaurant into their wine and cheese cellar. Think about that for a second….a cheese cellar. Now imagine it carved out of the hillside by Etruscans over 2500 years ago. That is a wine and cheese cellar! While down there we were treated to small pieces of fresh Pecorino drizzled with honey strictly made from the acacia tree. This would make any cheese-lover’s eyes roll back. Back upstairs…champagne was poured for all and we received a sampling of three appetizers – a soufflé of pecorino, a lightly cooked and seasoned mix of porcini mushrooms, and a small caprese salad. Then red wine and a primi, or first plate, with pici pasta with wild boar and porcini aside gnocchi with a ricotta and pecorino cream and spinach. The pici may be the best pasta dish I have ever had. Then a secondi - Chianino beef (do a google image search for Chianino cows, they are stunning) that barely saw heat and lamb chops with a thin sheet of Carrara lardo with roasted potatoes. Then dessert, chocolate torte and real whipped cream….then after-dinner drinks, digestif – grappa. After about two and a half hours and lots of great conversation we were done. Go here…flawless service – each course came for all at once, no dishes were cleared until everyone was done with each course, they allowed for conversation time between courses – perfectly paced and all about the experience – not just getting you served and out. This is the way dining out should work.
Once we left we inevitably walked through the Campo. It was filled with all sorts of people, all ages. Some dining out, some just having a drink. Lots of people sitting on the ground taking in the atmosphere. You can’t help but notice how relaxing it is. Everyone seems to be enjoying one another’s company and tolerating people of every background…whether tourist or local, spazzy twelve year old, loud teen or sedate retired folk. And it seems completely safe. How can we replicate this in the States? What is it about the States that makes this so difficult? What is it about Italy that makes this work?
Bill’s assistant, Daniel, put together a couple special meals for us -one fairly reasonably priced and one expensive – but worth it. Tonight was the pricey one. WOW! First of all, this place is clearly OLD. They greeted us like family, largely because Daniel is treated like family. We began by going down the stairs at the back of the restaurant into their wine and cheese cellar. Think about that for a second….a cheese cellar. Now imagine it carved out of the hillside by Etruscans over 2500 years ago. That is a wine and cheese cellar! While down there we were treated to small pieces of fresh Pecorino drizzled with honey strictly made from the acacia tree. This would make any cheese-lover’s eyes roll back. Back upstairs…champagne was poured for all and we received a sampling of three appetizers – a soufflé of pecorino, a lightly cooked and seasoned mix of porcini mushrooms, and a small caprese salad. Then red wine and a primi, or first plate, with pici pasta with wild boar and porcini aside gnocchi with a ricotta and pecorino cream and spinach. The pici may be the best pasta dish I have ever had. Then a secondi - Chianino beef (do a google image search for Chianino cows, they are stunning) that barely saw heat and lamb chops with a thin sheet of Carrara lardo with roasted potatoes. Then dessert, chocolate torte and real whipped cream….then after-dinner drinks, digestif – grappa. After about two and a half hours and lots of great conversation we were done. Go here…flawless service – each course came for all at once, no dishes were cleared until everyone was done with each course, they allowed for conversation time between courses – perfectly paced and all about the experience – not just getting you served and out. This is the way dining out should work.
Once we left we inevitably walked through the Campo. It was filled with all sorts of people, all ages. Some dining out, some just having a drink. Lots of people sitting on the ground taking in the atmosphere. You can’t help but notice how relaxing it is. Everyone seems to be enjoying one another’s company and tolerating people of every background…whether tourist or local, spazzy twelve year old, loud teen or sedate retired folk. And it seems completely safe. How can we replicate this in the States? What is it about the States that makes this so difficult? What is it about Italy that makes this work?
Travel in Tuscany
Saturday, July 04, 2009
This morning a few of us got up early to head south. Our goal, Pienza and Multipulciano. Shortly out of town the scenery again became a postcard. How is it that at every turn Tuscany looks like artwork?
We arrived in Pienza by about 9am…time enough to see it before tourists descended. Pienza is important for two things. The first involves their Piccolomini Pope, Pius II. When he became pope he had his town redesigned as an ideal Renaissance city. He did a great job. The piazza is gorgeous, each road perfectly quaint. The city hall faces the church which faces the palace. We went into two churches. The first, and in my opinion most interesting, was a Franciscan church. Very dark, somewhat austere. Some intriguing modern art and a great life-cycle of Francis frescoe in the apse. The other church was on the main piazza and perched on a cliff….and falling over. Apparently it had been falling over the edge right from the start. Now they have all sorts of motion sensors and braces holding it together. As you enter you step down and then as you walk up the nave to the apse you are actually walking down hill. I found this very disconcerting, even if it has been like this for 500 years. I did not walk all the way to the back. It would just be my Solociccia-stuffed rear that would push it all over! Then some visited the museum on the palace while I sat outside, enjoyed some sun and rejoiced in reading about Sarah Palin’s resignation….and I can only hope, disappearance from the political scene.
The attraction for many to Pienza is cheese, specifically Pecorino sheep cheese. We went into a few shops that lured you in with the beautiful scent of really stinky aged cheese with local sausage of a special pig and wild boar. But this isn’t like the States. Here you have all sorts of choices – fresh pecorino, or all varieties of aged and dusted with ash and leaves. The younger tends to be quite fragrant and smooth. It mellows with some age and dries a bit to become a little crumbly, somewhat similar to a Parmagianno. Finally, as it reaches its oldest sellable point it becomes quite pungent, dry, and crumbly. And you know me, I liked the really stinky stuff!
Then we headed to Multipulciano – serious wine country. Multipulciano is much larger and far more crowded. We parked the car and headed up hill – and up, and up. We stopped a few times to sample wine, olive oil, etc. Some shops even had their wine stored far in back of the store, burrowed into the hill in caves dug by the ancient Etruscans. We kept climbing up towards the piazza – and up, and up. It was hot, sunny…and the road kept going up! Finally, on the verge of shriveling up, we reached the top. In the shade it was much more pleasant, but we were all over heated. We just relaxed for about 30 minutes before breaking open some bread and a nice sampling of Pecorino. A great lunch I would say.
Then we headed back down, but not before a stop at one of the better in-town wineries. Nice conversation, good wine, amazing barrels, and cool. Thank you.
The drive back went well and we got the car returned on time. We were all thrilled we had done this. While Siena is amazing, it is important to see its outskirts and put it in context of its surrounding region. And the driving was great if you really like putting your steering wheel to serious use!
This morning a few of us got up early to head south. Our goal, Pienza and Multipulciano. Shortly out of town the scenery again became a postcard. How is it that at every turn Tuscany looks like artwork?
We arrived in Pienza by about 9am…time enough to see it before tourists descended. Pienza is important for two things. The first involves their Piccolomini Pope, Pius II. When he became pope he had his town redesigned as an ideal Renaissance city. He did a great job. The piazza is gorgeous, each road perfectly quaint. The city hall faces the church which faces the palace. We went into two churches. The first, and in my opinion most interesting, was a Franciscan church. Very dark, somewhat austere. Some intriguing modern art and a great life-cycle of Francis frescoe in the apse. The other church was on the main piazza and perched on a cliff….and falling over. Apparently it had been falling over the edge right from the start. Now they have all sorts of motion sensors and braces holding it together. As you enter you step down and then as you walk up the nave to the apse you are actually walking down hill. I found this very disconcerting, even if it has been like this for 500 years. I did not walk all the way to the back. It would just be my Solociccia-stuffed rear that would push it all over! Then some visited the museum on the palace while I sat outside, enjoyed some sun and rejoiced in reading about Sarah Palin’s resignation….and I can only hope, disappearance from the political scene.
The attraction for many to Pienza is cheese, specifically Pecorino sheep cheese. We went into a few shops that lured you in with the beautiful scent of really stinky aged cheese with local sausage of a special pig and wild boar. But this isn’t like the States. Here you have all sorts of choices – fresh pecorino, or all varieties of aged and dusted with ash and leaves. The younger tends to be quite fragrant and smooth. It mellows with some age and dries a bit to become a little crumbly, somewhat similar to a Parmagianno. Finally, as it reaches its oldest sellable point it becomes quite pungent, dry, and crumbly. And you know me, I liked the really stinky stuff!
Then we headed to Multipulciano – serious wine country. Multipulciano is much larger and far more crowded. We parked the car and headed up hill – and up, and up. We stopped a few times to sample wine, olive oil, etc. Some shops even had their wine stored far in back of the store, burrowed into the hill in caves dug by the ancient Etruscans. We kept climbing up towards the piazza – and up, and up. It was hot, sunny…and the road kept going up! Finally, on the verge of shriveling up, we reached the top. In the shade it was much more pleasant, but we were all over heated. We just relaxed for about 30 minutes before breaking open some bread and a nice sampling of Pecorino. A great lunch I would say.
Then we headed back down, but not before a stop at one of the better in-town wineries. Nice conversation, good wine, amazing barrels, and cool. Thank you.
The drive back went well and we got the car returned on time. We were all thrilled we had done this. While Siena is amazing, it is important to see its outskirts and put it in context of its surrounding region. And the driving was great if you really like putting your steering wheel to serious use!
Solociccia
Friday, July 03, 2009
Dinner at Solociccia was amazing. If you are ever in this part of the world you must go. We arrived early after a 35km drive over hills and twists and turns that make Route E look like a straight, wide superhighway. After parking the car, we strolled through the town of Panzano, population 900. It was easy to find the butcher shop – and then Solociccia is right across the street. But the shop was open – even at 7:30. Unfortunately Dario was out of town, but the shop was manned by his nephew who spoke great English and was an excellent host. Though all the meat was put away already, he did have an array of food out with wine for guests to sample. Had two large plates of bread – one covered in olive oil and another with Tuscan butter. But that is not what it sounds like. What they call Tuscan butter is actually a whipped pork fat mixed with some seasoning. Heart attack on a plate – wonderful. As we are enjoying this, Dario’s nephew says we can walk around – even behind the counter! Needless to say, I do. I walked all over that shop – touched Dario’s knives, cutting board, ranges…wonderful place for a foodie. After talking music, art, and meat we were called across the street to our reservation.
The dining table sat ten in a room by itself. The four of us were seated with an American couple from LA who spoke Italian, an Italian couple from Florence, and an Italian couple from Prato who spoke some English. Then the food came. Bowls of bread and raw vegetables to be dipped in olive oil mixed with Dario’s own salt blended with spices. Then platters of bruschetta with a meat ragu, fried veggies with fried pork and a meatball – all in a tempura style batter except the meat which was more of a panko. Then an amazing suchi, tartare, carpaccio amalgamation turned into a meatball served on sprigs of rosemary with some lemon juice squeezed on top. Then a thin-slice, perfectly cooked prime rib. Then a boiled meat salad reminiscent of something you might see in a Southeast Asian restaurant. Then a braised dish of beautifully tender chunks of beef with perfectly cooked onions. Getting tired? Then olive oil cake – light, moist, crunchy with just a touch of sugar and almonds on top – with four bottles of liquor – grappa, china, one that was quite dark and bitter, and another anise based. Drink what you like as much as you like. Then about 11:30 a server comes in and says it’s time to go.
It was an amazing evening. Every course came on two platters – just enough to get everyone a taste, but not get stuffed. The conviviality of dining with others was delightful. The pace was flawless. And for 30€, almost criminal! Go here! Now!
Dinner at Solociccia was amazing. If you are ever in this part of the world you must go. We arrived early after a 35km drive over hills and twists and turns that make Route E look like a straight, wide superhighway. After parking the car, we strolled through the town of Panzano, population 900. It was easy to find the butcher shop – and then Solociccia is right across the street. But the shop was open – even at 7:30. Unfortunately Dario was out of town, but the shop was manned by his nephew who spoke great English and was an excellent host. Though all the meat was put away already, he did have an array of food out with wine for guests to sample. Had two large plates of bread – one covered in olive oil and another with Tuscan butter. But that is not what it sounds like. What they call Tuscan butter is actually a whipped pork fat mixed with some seasoning. Heart attack on a plate – wonderful. As we are enjoying this, Dario’s nephew says we can walk around – even behind the counter! Needless to say, I do. I walked all over that shop – touched Dario’s knives, cutting board, ranges…wonderful place for a foodie. After talking music, art, and meat we were called across the street to our reservation.
The dining table sat ten in a room by itself. The four of us were seated with an American couple from LA who spoke Italian, an Italian couple from Florence, and an Italian couple from Prato who spoke some English. Then the food came. Bowls of bread and raw vegetables to be dipped in olive oil mixed with Dario’s own salt blended with spices. Then platters of bruschetta with a meat ragu, fried veggies with fried pork and a meatball – all in a tempura style batter except the meat which was more of a panko. Then an amazing suchi, tartare, carpaccio amalgamation turned into a meatball served on sprigs of rosemary with some lemon juice squeezed on top. Then a thin-slice, perfectly cooked prime rib. Then a boiled meat salad reminiscent of something you might see in a Southeast Asian restaurant. Then a braised dish of beautifully tender chunks of beef with perfectly cooked onions. Getting tired? Then olive oil cake – light, moist, crunchy with just a touch of sugar and almonds on top – with four bottles of liquor – grappa, china, one that was quite dark and bitter, and another anise based. Drink what you like as much as you like. Then about 11:30 a server comes in and says it’s time to go.
It was an amazing evening. Every course came on two platters – just enough to get everyone a taste, but not get stuffed. The conviviality of dining with others was delightful. The pace was flawless. And for 30€, almost criminal! Go here! Now!
Thoughts on Francis
Friday, July 03, 2009
Time to get back to our work – Francis. Great conversation today about the meaning of stigmata and the ways in which we mythlogize our heroes. Which is better…to make our heroes otherworldly, ideal, or human with imperfections? As a teacher I would rather them be very human role models, but I see the purpose of having near-superheroes.
We also discussed how the 13th century was huge in Western history. It is at that point that we see a renewed link between the West and Byzantium. That begins an exchange of goods and ideas that eventually is the foundation of the Renaissance. We see the beginnings of a money economy and we all know that has turned out. We see the beginnings of European universities, the descendents of which dominate much in our society. We should not forget that such centers of learning existed in the Muslim world long before. We see the development of paper for book publishing. This, combined with moveable type and the printing press in the 15th century would transform information. The confluence of all of these, with Francis as a leading figure of the early 13th century, will have huge consequences. And it all begs the time-worn question…do people make history or does history make people?
A few other random thoughts…
1. Marguerite Henry wrote a book I need to find called, Gaudenzia, Pride of the Palio about a farm boy who brings in an unknown horse for the selection, ends up getting his horse drawn and then he gets asked to ride it. You guess the ending.
2. W.E.B. Dubois in the 1920’s gave a graduation speech at Washington’s Dunbar High School in which he suggested the ultimate role model was Francis.
3. The 13th century also sees a shift in the storytelling about saints from an emphasis on miracles and their deaths to a focus on their sanctity and their lives….their saintliness. Seems a pretty important shift.
4. You become what you love – an excellent turn on the phrase, “You are what you eat.”
5. There are two kinds of people. Those looking for problems to be solved and those looking for mysteries to be embraced. Think about that the next time you yell at the TV after an episode of Lost!
In the afternoon we visited the Palazzo, the building in the Campo in the all pictures, the one with the tower. It was essentially the city hall. I was thrilled to go because it has Lorenzetti’s Allegory of Good and Bad Government. In a room in which the Sienese city leaders met in the 14th century the walls are decorated with a giant frescoe explaining the dangers of bad government and benefits of the good government. Essentially, a bad government is a city in which people are self-centered, only out for themselves. In the good, people and the government have as a primary concern the collective good. It is an excellent and timeless painting. I couldn’t help but wonder how our congressional and corporate leaders would react to the lecture Bill delivered about the painting. I also would love to see what Adam Smith had to say about it.
Finally, tonight I drive in Italy for the first time. A few of us are chipping in to get a car for about 24 hours. Tonight we head to Panzano to eat at Darrio Cecchini’s Solociccia (check it out at solociccia.it or go to youtube and search for Anthony Bourdain in Tuscany). This guy is often called the best or most famous butcher around. I have mentioned his name to a few people here, and they all know him. He recites Dante as he cuts meat and is known to refuse to serve customers with whom he disapproves of their choices. I have a funny feeling one should not ask for meat well done. Six courses starting at 9pm. And the name of the restaurant means Only Meat. Tomorrow we head south to some wine and cheese country – Pecorino cheese…the towns of Multipulciano and Pienza.
Time to get back to our work – Francis. Great conversation today about the meaning of stigmata and the ways in which we mythlogize our heroes. Which is better…to make our heroes otherworldly, ideal, or human with imperfections? As a teacher I would rather them be very human role models, but I see the purpose of having near-superheroes.
We also discussed how the 13th century was huge in Western history. It is at that point that we see a renewed link between the West and Byzantium. That begins an exchange of goods and ideas that eventually is the foundation of the Renaissance. We see the beginnings of a money economy and we all know that has turned out. We see the beginnings of European universities, the descendents of which dominate much in our society. We should not forget that such centers of learning existed in the Muslim world long before. We see the development of paper for book publishing. This, combined with moveable type and the printing press in the 15th century would transform information. The confluence of all of these, with Francis as a leading figure of the early 13th century, will have huge consequences. And it all begs the time-worn question…do people make history or does history make people?
A few other random thoughts…
1. Marguerite Henry wrote a book I need to find called, Gaudenzia, Pride of the Palio about a farm boy who brings in an unknown horse for the selection, ends up getting his horse drawn and then he gets asked to ride it. You guess the ending.
2. W.E.B. Dubois in the 1920’s gave a graduation speech at Washington’s Dunbar High School in which he suggested the ultimate role model was Francis.
3. The 13th century also sees a shift in the storytelling about saints from an emphasis on miracles and their deaths to a focus on their sanctity and their lives….their saintliness. Seems a pretty important shift.
4. You become what you love – an excellent turn on the phrase, “You are what you eat.”
5. There are two kinds of people. Those looking for problems to be solved and those looking for mysteries to be embraced. Think about that the next time you yell at the TV after an episode of Lost!
In the afternoon we visited the Palazzo, the building in the Campo in the all pictures, the one with the tower. It was essentially the city hall. I was thrilled to go because it has Lorenzetti’s Allegory of Good and Bad Government. In a room in which the Sienese city leaders met in the 14th century the walls are decorated with a giant frescoe explaining the dangers of bad government and benefits of the good government. Essentially, a bad government is a city in which people are self-centered, only out for themselves. In the good, people and the government have as a primary concern the collective good. It is an excellent and timeless painting. I couldn’t help but wonder how our congressional and corporate leaders would react to the lecture Bill delivered about the painting. I also would love to see what Adam Smith had to say about it.
Finally, tonight I drive in Italy for the first time. A few of us are chipping in to get a car for about 24 hours. Tonight we head to Panzano to eat at Darrio Cecchini’s Solociccia (check it out at solociccia.it or go to youtube and search for Anthony Bourdain in Tuscany). This guy is often called the best or most famous butcher around. I have mentioned his name to a few people here, and they all know him. He recites Dante as he cuts meat and is known to refuse to serve customers with whom he disapproves of their choices. I have a funny feeling one should not ask for meat well done. Six courses starting at 9pm. And the name of the restaurant means Only Meat. Tomorrow we head south to some wine and cheese country – Pecorino cheese…the towns of Multipulciano and Pienza.
Palio Day
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Got up this morning to a bright day and sweltering heat. I passed some time writing at San Domenico before going back to bed for a brief nap. Others were off to blessings of riders or another thunderstorm. I grabbed a pizza and watched clouds roll in – along with a great breeze and cooler temperatures.
It was then time for me to start taking in the Palio activities. I headed up to the Duomo to watch each contrada march in with flag throwers and drummers to be blessed from a window by the Archbishop. If you have never seen flag throwing go ahead and watch Under the Tuscan Sun, it has a decent scene featuring it. Because I was concerned about the crowd in the Campo I decided to head down there about 4pm, before the blessings were complete. Fortunately I got there early enough that I could both find others in my group and sit down for a little while. I immediately noticed that this felt very different from the practice races. There were far more tourists and the bleachers were filled with a well-heeled crowd rather than spirited kids. Whereas the area we sat in had been swamped with Onda supporters at other times, this time there was a smattering of everybody. About 5 the ceremony and ritual got under way, starting with the charge of the horses we saw the previous night. Then out came an entire sea of flags representing areas regions the Republic of Siena had conquered in the past. Then each Contrada brought out flag throwers, drummers, massive draft horses carrying the Palio jockeys, men in armor – all of it highly ritualized and linked to some elements of Sienese past. After almost two hours this parade culminates in four oxen pulling a war cart on which is presented this year’s Palio, or banner. It is an awesome moment as these oxen pull this array of trumpeters and a banner like a sail around the Campo; the people wave their contrada’s scarves at the banner for good luck.
Only then, about 7:45, were we ready to race. The Campo was mobbed, everyone standing shoulder to shoulder. Every window of every building is filled with banners and spectators. Once the horses some out the people all cheer. Then the starter calls each contrada in for starting posistions. With each call there is a reaction – and it is all so complex. Some positions are worse then others. Some want to be near an enemy, so far. Groans and cheers. Then once all is set, we wait for the last horse to enter the starting area. And we wait. And wait. I cannot fully explain how all this works, but let’s just say it is agonizing. We stood through two false starts. Three times at least the horses were all pulled out of the starting area because they had been there too long. After over one hour and rapidly decreasing sunlight we finally got a clean start. Ninety seconds later it was over….Tartuca had won – the turtle had the fastest horse. Go to YouTube, search for Siena Palio 2009 and watch it – there’s already a lot there.
Having not eaten and feeling dehydrated, it was time to eat. Having been here for two weeks already we had found some of the shortcuts that the average tourist would not know so we were able to make it into a restaurant rather quickly. A quick bowl of pasta, a lot of water, and we were off to meet Bill in the Campo for more festivities. The Campo was mobbed and even at 11pm it seemed every store was still open. The Palazzo was lit with torches and the entire scene was incredible. On the night of a victory the streets of the victor’s contrada become an all night party. They open their museum to the public. Their chapel is opened and wine is handed out in the streets. Tartuca was no different. Flags were being waved, signing and drumming all over. The museum was wonderful. They have displayed all the previous palios they have won, going back a few hundred years in some cases. They have all sorts of memorabilia of the contrada’s history and plans for a new museum. In the chapel, behind the alter, they showcased the newest, tonight’s palio. The entire atmosphere was completely addicting. I also noticed that people of all ages and walks of life were all celebrating together. Very little rude drunkenness. No cars being overturned. Lots of cheering, hugging, kissing. And lots of people from other areas of the city there to celebrate with them. In fact, on the way over there we passed through other contradi flying the Tortuca flag. And we followed the mayor and his contingent. Something about it all seemed so pure, genuine, and wonderful. And it is this contradi system that seems to bind the city together in small civic units, with great pride, commitment, and energy. It’s not really about a horse race. It is about civic pride and history. They say every child in Siena has 4000 parents.
If you ever get a chance, come to Siena for Palio. But come five days prior and stay for at least a day after. Be a part of the entire process, the pageantry, the ritual. Adopt a contrada, find a way to go to the banquet, visit the victor late after the race. It is not like anything else I have ever experienced.
Got up this morning to a bright day and sweltering heat. I passed some time writing at San Domenico before going back to bed for a brief nap. Others were off to blessings of riders or another thunderstorm. I grabbed a pizza and watched clouds roll in – along with a great breeze and cooler temperatures.
It was then time for me to start taking in the Palio activities. I headed up to the Duomo to watch each contrada march in with flag throwers and drummers to be blessed from a window by the Archbishop. If you have never seen flag throwing go ahead and watch Under the Tuscan Sun, it has a decent scene featuring it. Because I was concerned about the crowd in the Campo I decided to head down there about 4pm, before the blessings were complete. Fortunately I got there early enough that I could both find others in my group and sit down for a little while. I immediately noticed that this felt very different from the practice races. There were far more tourists and the bleachers were filled with a well-heeled crowd rather than spirited kids. Whereas the area we sat in had been swamped with Onda supporters at other times, this time there was a smattering of everybody. About 5 the ceremony and ritual got under way, starting with the charge of the horses we saw the previous night. Then out came an entire sea of flags representing areas regions the Republic of Siena had conquered in the past. Then each Contrada brought out flag throwers, drummers, massive draft horses carrying the Palio jockeys, men in armor – all of it highly ritualized and linked to some elements of Sienese past. After almost two hours this parade culminates in four oxen pulling a war cart on which is presented this year’s Palio, or banner. It is an awesome moment as these oxen pull this array of trumpeters and a banner like a sail around the Campo; the people wave their contrada’s scarves at the banner for good luck.
Only then, about 7:45, were we ready to race. The Campo was mobbed, everyone standing shoulder to shoulder. Every window of every building is filled with banners and spectators. Once the horses some out the people all cheer. Then the starter calls each contrada in for starting posistions. With each call there is a reaction – and it is all so complex. Some positions are worse then others. Some want to be near an enemy, so far. Groans and cheers. Then once all is set, we wait for the last horse to enter the starting area. And we wait. And wait. I cannot fully explain how all this works, but let’s just say it is agonizing. We stood through two false starts. Three times at least the horses were all pulled out of the starting area because they had been there too long. After over one hour and rapidly decreasing sunlight we finally got a clean start. Ninety seconds later it was over….Tartuca had won – the turtle had the fastest horse. Go to YouTube, search for Siena Palio 2009 and watch it – there’s already a lot there.
Having not eaten and feeling dehydrated, it was time to eat. Having been here for two weeks already we had found some of the shortcuts that the average tourist would not know so we were able to make it into a restaurant rather quickly. A quick bowl of pasta, a lot of water, and we were off to meet Bill in the Campo for more festivities. The Campo was mobbed and even at 11pm it seemed every store was still open. The Palazzo was lit with torches and the entire scene was incredible. On the night of a victory the streets of the victor’s contrada become an all night party. They open their museum to the public. Their chapel is opened and wine is handed out in the streets. Tartuca was no different. Flags were being waved, signing and drumming all over. The museum was wonderful. They have displayed all the previous palios they have won, going back a few hundred years in some cases. They have all sorts of memorabilia of the contrada’s history and plans for a new museum. In the chapel, behind the alter, they showcased the newest, tonight’s palio. The entire atmosphere was completely addicting. I also noticed that people of all ages and walks of life were all celebrating together. Very little rude drunkenness. No cars being overturned. Lots of cheering, hugging, kissing. And lots of people from other areas of the city there to celebrate with them. In fact, on the way over there we passed through other contradi flying the Tortuca flag. And we followed the mayor and his contingent. Something about it all seemed so pure, genuine, and wonderful. And it is this contradi system that seems to bind the city together in small civic units, with great pride, commitment, and energy. It’s not really about a horse race. It is about civic pride and history. They say every child in Siena has 4000 parents.
If you ever get a chance, come to Siena for Palio. But come five days prior and stay for at least a day after. Be a part of the entire process, the pageantry, the ritual. Adopt a contrada, find a way to go to the banquet, visit the victor late after the race. It is not like anything else I have ever experienced.
Palio Dinner
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
I started the day by going to the morning practice for the palio. Still incredible, still a big crowd. Then we had our seminar – further amazing conversation. Dr. Cook takes so much information, some that I know, some that is new, and puts it together in such a way that it is pure genius. Though I really needed a nap, I then headed to the weekly market for a special treat….porchetta. Imagine a huge cutting board. The on it, imagine a good size, whole pig. You ask for a Panini – just means sandwich in Italian. They use a huge knife and chop off chunks of pork and fat and place it on a bun….no ceremony, no condiment – the bread just holds what you are there for. And if you ask for crust, they slice off a hefty chunk of pork skin that is crunchy like the best potato chip you have ever had. That was lunch….then a nap.
In the afternoon we had what Bill called a water tour. We started at the Fontana Gaia in the Campo. Discussed the necessity of having water for what was a pretty large city in the Middle Ages and the challenge of getting it to the city. While many cities are located on river, Siena is a hill city. Their issue is getting the water into the city from below. So they had wells, tapped into underground springs, used cisterns to capture rain water, and had an aqueduct that brought water from a higher river miles away. But once they brought water to the city they had to find ways to be very efficient with it. So they built series of pools that filled, overflowed, and flowed into further pools. So at the bottom of a hill you might find a pool of quite clean, fresh water, next to it another slightly dirtier pool, and so on. The first pool might be used for cooking water. By the time you reached the last pool in a series you might find a leather tannery, a butcher, or a textile dyer. That all makes sense and seems practical, utilitarian. But the pools that remain are also decorated with gothic architecture. It was the Middle Ages after all. I find infrastructure fascinating and this was a great tour.
The real event of the day was in the evening. After taking a very cold shower to wash off the heat and urban grime, we had another palio provare. Crowd was massive again, more songs, more taunting. But there was a new twist. Tonight an assembly of about 20 horses in full military regalia came out to great applause. They walked slowly and orderly around the Campo once and then started to gallop. Once they completed about a rotation and half they got faster and faster until all of them were going all out – with swords extended. It was thunderous….and I imagine incredibly dangerous. The practice race featured a long, long starting process. Seemed to take 15 or 20 minutes. When they finally ran it was amazing. One guy fell off his horse, held the reigns, managed to hit the ground just right, and vaulted back on. Another horse ended with a limp, causing tears in that contrada. They had not won in over 40 years and believed this was their chance. Now they won’t run at all.
After the race we were honored to be able to attend the Onda Contrada Pre-Palio Banquet. They set up tables throughout the streets of the contrada, seating for 1000. Dinner is not served until almost 9:30. Prosciutto and melon, risotto with zucchini blossoms and saffron, pasta (that was amazing), veal, a quiche-like thing, ice cream. And it rained – poured – and we all got soaked. But they did have massive plastic tarps that we managed to use to avoid total loss. Endless red wine, bottled water, and after the speeches….which did not start till 12:15 – a champagne toast. To get back to the hotel required walking through the Campo. There must have been 10,000 people there enjoying a beautiful night. It was amazing experience and I think all of us felt quite fortunate to be able to be part of it all.
Tomorrow it all come to its conclusion….blessings of riders and horses, flag throwing, parades, ceremonial dress, oxen and horses. And over 60,000 people in the Campo. Though the race is at 9pm, the parades start two hours earlier – and if you want to find a space to stand in, you need to be in the Campo by 5 or so – in the heat, sun. No bathrooms either. So somehow you have to strike a balance between staying hydrated – but not too hydrated. An adventure, right.
I started the day by going to the morning practice for the palio. Still incredible, still a big crowd. Then we had our seminar – further amazing conversation. Dr. Cook takes so much information, some that I know, some that is new, and puts it together in such a way that it is pure genius. Though I really needed a nap, I then headed to the weekly market for a special treat….porchetta. Imagine a huge cutting board. The on it, imagine a good size, whole pig. You ask for a Panini – just means sandwich in Italian. They use a huge knife and chop off chunks of pork and fat and place it on a bun….no ceremony, no condiment – the bread just holds what you are there for. And if you ask for crust, they slice off a hefty chunk of pork skin that is crunchy like the best potato chip you have ever had. That was lunch….then a nap.
In the afternoon we had what Bill called a water tour. We started at the Fontana Gaia in the Campo. Discussed the necessity of having water for what was a pretty large city in the Middle Ages and the challenge of getting it to the city. While many cities are located on river, Siena is a hill city. Their issue is getting the water into the city from below. So they had wells, tapped into underground springs, used cisterns to capture rain water, and had an aqueduct that brought water from a higher river miles away. But once they brought water to the city they had to find ways to be very efficient with it. So they built series of pools that filled, overflowed, and flowed into further pools. So at the bottom of a hill you might find a pool of quite clean, fresh water, next to it another slightly dirtier pool, and so on. The first pool might be used for cooking water. By the time you reached the last pool in a series you might find a leather tannery, a butcher, or a textile dyer. That all makes sense and seems practical, utilitarian. But the pools that remain are also decorated with gothic architecture. It was the Middle Ages after all. I find infrastructure fascinating and this was a great tour.
The real event of the day was in the evening. After taking a very cold shower to wash off the heat and urban grime, we had another palio provare. Crowd was massive again, more songs, more taunting. But there was a new twist. Tonight an assembly of about 20 horses in full military regalia came out to great applause. They walked slowly and orderly around the Campo once and then started to gallop. Once they completed about a rotation and half they got faster and faster until all of them were going all out – with swords extended. It was thunderous….and I imagine incredibly dangerous. The practice race featured a long, long starting process. Seemed to take 15 or 20 minutes. When they finally ran it was amazing. One guy fell off his horse, held the reigns, managed to hit the ground just right, and vaulted back on. Another horse ended with a limp, causing tears in that contrada. They had not won in over 40 years and believed this was their chance. Now they won’t run at all.
After the race we were honored to be able to attend the Onda Contrada Pre-Palio Banquet. They set up tables throughout the streets of the contrada, seating for 1000. Dinner is not served until almost 9:30. Prosciutto and melon, risotto with zucchini blossoms and saffron, pasta (that was amazing), veal, a quiche-like thing, ice cream. And it rained – poured – and we all got soaked. But they did have massive plastic tarps that we managed to use to avoid total loss. Endless red wine, bottled water, and after the speeches….which did not start till 12:15 – a champagne toast. To get back to the hotel required walking through the Campo. There must have been 10,000 people there enjoying a beautiful night. It was amazing experience and I think all of us felt quite fortunate to be able to be part of it all.
Tomorrow it all come to its conclusion….blessings of riders and horses, flag throwing, parades, ceremonial dress, oxen and horses. And over 60,000 people in the Campo. Though the race is at 9pm, the parades start two hours earlier – and if you want to find a space to stand in, you need to be in the Campo by 5 or so – in the heat, sun. No bathrooms either. So somehow you have to strike a balance between staying hydrated – but not too hydrated. An adventure, right.
Palio Practice
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The weather here has been amazing and unprecedented. We have had rain virtually every afternoon for over a week. While it is nice to have a thunderstorm blow through and take the edge of off building heat, it has now interrupted palio activities. Last night’s first provare, or practice race, was cancelled as was this morning’s. (I later found out they ran it 2 hours late) That did not stop people from showing up, wearing their colors and being hopeful. But without practice sessions to let off some steam you can feel the tension mounting.
I also succumbed to temptation and ate a middle eastern lunch. It just smelled so good – and it was. But it still did not feel right. I am in Italy after all!
The day ended with a practice race for Thursday’s palio. WOW! The Campo filled with perhaps 40,000 people plus the bleachers filled with mostly young kids. The time up to the race was passed by listening to one contrada after another singing songs, some in celebration of the greatness of their own contrada – we are the strongest and most beautiful – and others insulting to their rivals – you are an insult to the city and your streets are a pig sty. Scarves were waved, people swayed back and forth and fists were thrust in the air – maybe a few fingers too. I could not help but notice that the entire community was involved. Teenage girls talked about horses (they all had their handicapping sheets out on selection day). Grade-school aged kids sang songs in the stands. Teenage boys taunted their rivals. And needless to say, lots of older folks heavily invested in all the history and tradition came out to watch for perhaps their 150th palio (there are two per year). Finally at 7:45 the horses came out with jockeys in their uniforms. Through an intricate and confusing process the race was started and finished about 90 seconds later. Nobody fell, all horses and riders finished together. Some horses seemed comfortable, and at least one seemed like he’d much prefer being elsewhere.
Then the crowd started to move. Some jumped onto the track to guide their horse back to their neighborhood stall. Some milled about. Then I felt a shift. As I turned I saw hundreds of people moving in my direction quickly. They were all moving away from a fight. Over at the top of the piazza a fight had broken out involving a few dozen men/boys from rival contradi. It did not look like too many punches landed, but it certainly had the ability to become ugly. The police slowly moved in that direction and by the time they got there things had settled a little. Then the cops seemed to form a wall separating the two groups. Then the groups broke into their various songs. What is this, West Side Story? I feel like in the States the cops would have moved in quickly with riot gear, blood would have been drawn – by tear gas canisters shot by cops – and a full fledged riot would have broken out. Here….I watched two large group of passionate young men move away from one another singing?!
Even with that, the entire atmosphere is completely addicting, intoxicating. I cannot imagine what it will feel like on Thursday night when the entire race is prefaced by a long parade and there’s another 20,000 people here.
Then dinner…a small osteria down the street….prosciutto e melone followed by a beautiful ravioli stuffed with cheese and pine nuts covered in a light sauce with zucchini blossoms and dessert of tiramisu. I love Italy!
The weather here has been amazing and unprecedented. We have had rain virtually every afternoon for over a week. While it is nice to have a thunderstorm blow through and take the edge of off building heat, it has now interrupted palio activities. Last night’s first provare, or practice race, was cancelled as was this morning’s. (I later found out they ran it 2 hours late) That did not stop people from showing up, wearing their colors and being hopeful. But without practice sessions to let off some steam you can feel the tension mounting.
I also succumbed to temptation and ate a middle eastern lunch. It just smelled so good – and it was. But it still did not feel right. I am in Italy after all!
The day ended with a practice race for Thursday’s palio. WOW! The Campo filled with perhaps 40,000 people plus the bleachers filled with mostly young kids. The time up to the race was passed by listening to one contrada after another singing songs, some in celebration of the greatness of their own contrada – we are the strongest and most beautiful – and others insulting to their rivals – you are an insult to the city and your streets are a pig sty. Scarves were waved, people swayed back and forth and fists were thrust in the air – maybe a few fingers too. I could not help but notice that the entire community was involved. Teenage girls talked about horses (they all had their handicapping sheets out on selection day). Grade-school aged kids sang songs in the stands. Teenage boys taunted their rivals. And needless to say, lots of older folks heavily invested in all the history and tradition came out to watch for perhaps their 150th palio (there are two per year). Finally at 7:45 the horses came out with jockeys in their uniforms. Through an intricate and confusing process the race was started and finished about 90 seconds later. Nobody fell, all horses and riders finished together. Some horses seemed comfortable, and at least one seemed like he’d much prefer being elsewhere.
Then the crowd started to move. Some jumped onto the track to guide their horse back to their neighborhood stall. Some milled about. Then I felt a shift. As I turned I saw hundreds of people moving in my direction quickly. They were all moving away from a fight. Over at the top of the piazza a fight had broken out involving a few dozen men/boys from rival contradi. It did not look like too many punches landed, but it certainly had the ability to become ugly. The police slowly moved in that direction and by the time they got there things had settled a little. Then the cops seemed to form a wall separating the two groups. Then the groups broke into their various songs. What is this, West Side Story? I feel like in the States the cops would have moved in quickly with riot gear, blood would have been drawn – by tear gas canisters shot by cops – and a full fledged riot would have broken out. Here….I watched two large group of passionate young men move away from one another singing?!
Even with that, the entire atmosphere is completely addicting, intoxicating. I cannot imagine what it will feel like on Thursday night when the entire race is prefaced by a long parade and there’s another 20,000 people here.
Then dinner…a small osteria down the street….prosciutto e melone followed by a beautiful ravioli stuffed with cheese and pine nuts covered in a light sauce with zucchini blossoms and dessert of tiramisu. I love Italy!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Picture Problem
I have a lot of pictures I need to post but I am having issues with this computer. Soon I will post a bunch of them all in one post. There will be parade pictures, horses running the track in the Campo, a wedding picture of Annie's friend, Alissa and I at lunch...all sorts of things....soon, I promise. In the meantime go to You Tube and search for Palio Siena. There is a great video of last July's Palio - a couple down, look for Luglio 2008. It captures just how insane it is. Also look up Solociccia on google. I have a reservation here Friday night. Dario, the owner, is regulalry called the world's greatest butcher and he recites Dante's Divine Comedy as he works. People around here love him - but acknoweldge that he is a little....off. Wednesday night we have the pre-Palio feast on the streets of the Onda contrada an dthe race on Thursday. On Saturday I agreed to be the driver for a little trip into Chianti country. Next Monday we get the Uffizi to ourselves....hope I will get a chance to write. If not, Happy 4th!
Palio Horse Selection
Monday, June 29, 2009
Incredible day! Headed to the Piazza del Campo early for the running of thirty possible horses for Thursday's Palio. They brought out seven or eight horses at a time and had them run three laps. WILD! After watching about five practice runs I was in awe. But it just got crazier. After practice runs the city leaders, specifically contradi captains, get together behind closed doors and discuss which of the thirty horses will run. A couple hours later the Campo fills with people. Men from each racing contrada march in singing their song and chanting. Finally the captians and the mayor come to a stage. Each contrada's name is placed in a tube and into a bin. Each horse's number is also placed in a tube and into a bin. Then the assignments begin. A horse's number is pulled - groans or anticipation trickle through the crowd. Then the contrada. Cheers maybe. Maybe tears. Everyone has a preconceived notion of which horses are most desirable and which to be avoided. I saw crowds of men erupt in huge cheers and small groups in tears. As each horse is selected the men from that contrada head to the stalls on the Campo and march their respective horse off in the direction of their neighborhood to the tune of their song yet again. Once it's all determined thousands, literally thousands march off about their day.
That said, we're all here to study Francis, right? Seminar was great. I am seeing so many fascinating issues with Francis. Consider this..before conversion Francis regularly retreated to the hills for private prayer and contemplation. Can you say..Mohammed? After infuriating his father he was imprisoned in a dark, dank hole in the family home.descent into darkness - Odyssey? Beowulf into the lake? In seeking his purpose he tried being a merchant and did not find it rewarding. So he goes another direction. He tries to be a knight. Of course, he ends up an ascetic. Buddha?
The stories of Francis' life that we are now reading are part of a popular literary model called hagiography - stories of the saints. Just as in other forms of literature, there are models and patterns. What I can't help but see are the similarities between the hagiographies and yet other models such as the heroic quest. Between Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell, there's something going on here!
Incredible day! Headed to the Piazza del Campo early for the running of thirty possible horses for Thursday's Palio. They brought out seven or eight horses at a time and had them run three laps. WILD! After watching about five practice runs I was in awe. But it just got crazier. After practice runs the city leaders, specifically contradi captains, get together behind closed doors and discuss which of the thirty horses will run. A couple hours later the Campo fills with people. Men from each racing contrada march in singing their song and chanting. Finally the captians and the mayor come to a stage. Each contrada's name is placed in a tube and into a bin. Each horse's number is also placed in a tube and into a bin. Then the assignments begin. A horse's number is pulled - groans or anticipation trickle through the crowd. Then the contrada. Cheers maybe. Maybe tears. Everyone has a preconceived notion of which horses are most desirable and which to be avoided. I saw crowds of men erupt in huge cheers and small groups in tears. As each horse is selected the men from that contrada head to the stalls on the Campo and march their respective horse off in the direction of their neighborhood to the tune of their song yet again. Once it's all determined thousands, literally thousands march off about their day.
That said, we're all here to study Francis, right? Seminar was great. I am seeing so many fascinating issues with Francis. Consider this..before conversion Francis regularly retreated to the hills for private prayer and contemplation. Can you say..Mohammed? After infuriating his father he was imprisoned in a dark, dank hole in the family home.descent into darkness - Odyssey? Beowulf into the lake? In seeking his purpose he tried being a merchant and did not find it rewarding. So he goes another direction. He tries to be a knight. Of course, he ends up an ascetic. Buddha?
The stories of Francis' life that we are now reading are part of a popular literary model called hagiography - stories of the saints. Just as in other forms of literature, there are models and patterns. What I can't help but see are the similarities between the hagiographies and yet other models such as the heroic quest. Between Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell, there's something going on here!
Begining Palio Week
Sunday, June 28, 2009
My goal today was to do laundry - and found the place and had laundry done by noon. Got my reading done, did some writing and even managed a nap. The big event today was the Onda contrada parade. It seemed to go all day. I saw them marching around noon, but then again around seven - a huge crowd of flags and drums - way better than unicorn's last week. The cool part was the end. After the last period-costumed drummer passes then came the stroller brigade. Their must have been fifty women pushing toddlers and newborns all waving the blue and white. Then the old men - all singing the contrada song. Then the women - all ages. Then a full marching band. Awesome to be a part of something so rich in tradition. Tomorrow the real insanity begins. Tomorrow I will attend the running of the possible horses. They will take about 30 horses to the Campo and run them. Next the leaders of the contradi will meet behind closed doors and negotiate to decide which 10 horses will actually run. Then we will watch the assignment of horses to contradi. This is a big deal as some horses are known to be tough and fast and others..not so much. Tomorrow there will be tears of joy and sorrow. And the race isn't even until Thursday!
My goal today was to do laundry - and found the place and had laundry done by noon. Got my reading done, did some writing and even managed a nap. The big event today was the Onda contrada parade. It seemed to go all day. I saw them marching around noon, but then again around seven - a huge crowd of flags and drums - way better than unicorn's last week. The cool part was the end. After the last period-costumed drummer passes then came the stroller brigade. Their must have been fifty women pushing toddlers and newborns all waving the blue and white. Then the old men - all singing the contrada song. Then the women - all ages. Then a full marching band. Awesome to be a part of something so rich in tradition. Tomorrow the real insanity begins. Tomorrow I will attend the running of the possible horses. They will take about 30 horses to the Campo and run them. Next the leaders of the contradi will meet behind closed doors and negotiate to decide which 10 horses will actually run. Then we will watch the assignment of horses to contradi. This is a big deal as some horses are known to be tough and fast and others..not so much. Tomorrow there will be tears of joy and sorrow. And the race isn't even until Thursday!
Lazy Saturday
Saturday, June 27, 2009
A lazy day.some shopping in the morning - souvenirs and groceries. Then a nap, then the Onda contrada baptism. This is the ceremony by which a person - young or old makes no difference, becomes a life-long member of a contada. It's held in a church or at the community's fountain. In the case of Onda, the fountain is a medieval stylized dolphin. Everyone gathers and of course children abound, all dreaming of being flag throwers and witnessing contrada victories. It was wonderful to be a part of something clearly so long-standing, communal and intimate. Then I headed to see the wedding of Veronica, a friend of Annie's. (here in red and white holding the red flowers) This was a marriage between an Ethiopian woman and an Italian man - laced with historical significance. It was gorgeous. I love seeing elements of foreign marriage ceremonies. It's obvious that the palazzo of Siena is a popular spot - one wedding after another. I did get a chance to say hello and share a message - a bit awkward, but I am glad I did. I know I made Annie's day - and she was having dim sum in New York's Chinatown - so her day was great already.
Then a few of us had a social get-together. It was initially just social but it evolved into sharing one another's stories that brought us here. All I can say is that each of these people are here for intense personal reasons, some more academic than others who may be here for more spiritual reasons. Then there's me with a pretty clear combination of the two. These are amazing people, and everyone has a book in them. It occurred to me that there would be no harm, and it would perhaps be helpful to just share my application essay - see below.
A lazy day.some shopping in the morning - souvenirs and groceries. Then a nap, then the Onda contrada baptism. This is the ceremony by which a person - young or old makes no difference, becomes a life-long member of a contada. It's held in a church or at the community's fountain. In the case of Onda, the fountain is a medieval stylized dolphin. Everyone gathers and of course children abound, all dreaming of being flag throwers and witnessing contrada victories. It was wonderful to be a part of something clearly so long-standing, communal and intimate. Then I headed to see the wedding of Veronica, a friend of Annie's. (here in red and white holding the red flowers) This was a marriage between an Ethiopian woman and an Italian man - laced with historical significance. It was gorgeous. I love seeing elements of foreign marriage ceremonies. It's obvious that the palazzo of Siena is a popular spot - one wedding after another. I did get a chance to say hello and share a message - a bit awkward, but I am glad I did. I know I made Annie's day - and she was having dim sum in New York's Chinatown - so her day was great already.
Then a few of us had a social get-together. It was initially just social but it evolved into sharing one another's stories that brought us here. All I can say is that each of these people are here for intense personal reasons, some more academic than others who may be here for more spiritual reasons. Then there's me with a pretty clear combination of the two. These are amazing people, and everyone has a book in them. It occurred to me that there would be no harm, and it would perhaps be helpful to just share my application essay - see below.
My Application Essay
Saturday, June 27, 2009
When I was very young my grandmother gave me two books that I treasured and have managed to be a part of my life ever since. The first book she gave me was The Field Guide to the Birds. We lived on an acre surrounded by thick forest; I could pass hours and hours watching the birds and studying that book. Though it's well worn and rain-damaged, it has a cherished spot on my bookshelf today. For my first communion she gave me Lawrence Lovasik's The Picture Book of the Saints. I remember being struck by the biography of St. Francis of Assisi, and once that name was etched in my mind I remember noticing illustrations of Francis speaking with wildlife throughout my youth. As a solitary little boy the concept of a saint conversing with and celebrating wildlife captured my imagination. Since then St. Francis seems to pop up in my life every few years as if following me. Driving to work just this morning I heard a National Public Radio story about Franciscans advertising on the New York City subway.
Strangely, for most of my high school and college careers I did not like my history courses. It was not until I had a history teacher who incorporated the arts in her teaching that I began to appreciate the discipline.
Since graduating from the University of Missouri with degrees in history and secondary education I have been a high school social studies teacher. I am currently teaching at David H. Hickman High School, a very large comprehensive high school in the college town of Columbia, Missouri. For most of my 16 year career I have been teaching African-American Studies and World Studies, an interdisciplinary course pairing world history and world literature. When I decided to become a history teacher I made a commitment to using the arts as a way to make history come alive and speak for itself. I have made it a point to teach my students how to look at the arts, particularly visual arts, and use them to tell us about other times and cultures. Over the years, I have also realized the intersection of teaching with the arts and media literacy in helping my students make sense of their world. That global awareness must be coupled with the self-awareness which underlies the importance of spiritual and self-exploration and the need for activism. For all of these interconnected reasons I am interested in the "Lives" of St. Francis of Assisi.
As a teenager I strayed well away from organized religion. But in college I had numerous experiences that heightened my curiosity about spirituality. I remember being struck by what I perceived to be similarities between St. Francis (from a Medieval European History course) and the Buddha (from an Eastern Philosophy course). I was excited by their commitment to a higher cause and bringing great change to their world. Their selflessness and devotion to higher causes spoke to my desire to be a teacher. And Francis' rebelliousness and fearlessness I found inspiring. While my spirituality has been an endless journey I can confidently say that both the Buddha and St. Francis remain role models. I would like to further analyze the similarities between these two great men.
As a teacher I took all of these ideas and incorporated them into my day-to-day practice. In the teaching of both African-American Studies and World Studies I use art. I focus on using the arts to teach us about the values, events, attitudes and perspectives of the past. While art certainly does not speak to every student, I have discovered that just like myself in high school, many students finally begin to grasp the ideas and concepts when they see them expressed visually. Asking students to evaluate the perspectives of the artists throughout world history has evolved into a focus on media literacy in our final unit in which we investigate the influence of mass global communication in the modern world. It has been wonderful to have students use the same skills they learned looking at Donatello's David and apply them to the evening news, a movie, song or a webpage.
In all my classes we discuss patterns and archetypes in literature and history. Students end up fascinated by the similarities between major figures in history, providing us the chance to discuss how we mythologize our heroes. I have little doubt that this trend exists in the various interpretations of the "lives" of St. Francis and I look forward to the opportunity to discover these. Similarly, while studying philosophy, religion and religious figures I always suggest that students look for some universal ideas. Inevitably students discover the importance of living a life to serve others. I hope this moves students closer to discovering some of what Carl Jung would call our collective human unconscious. I hope students find for themselves those ideas and values that humans hold most dear. I believe studying St. Francis can help me become a better facilitator of students discovering these universal truths.
Though I continue to thoroughly enjoy fine food, travel, live music and a good movie, denial of worldly pleasures, monastic contemplation, and a life free from desire are very attractive to me. Our lives are full of distraction and sensationalism. I think this is even more true in my students' lives than it is for me. In my teaching of world history I make a special effort to include the major philosophers and religious leaders from history. Students inevitably find their views and habits challenged by those thinkers who encourage simplicity and a life lived for others. But as my students mature and think about the ideas of people such as Lao Tzu, St. Francis, or even Neil Postman, they come to be intelligent, thoughtful critics and consumers of their culture. Many have been inspired, not to become hermits, monks or philosophers, but to engage with and work to make positive change in their community.
Strangely, some of the most rewarding and personal moments of my teaching career have involved Assisi. Over the last 9 years I have taken five groups of students on educational tours of Europe. Four of these trips have involved the proverbial short lunch stops in Assisi with visits to the Basilica. I was thrilled with my first visit, even if my students were not sure what they were about to see. We had a short tour guided by a friar who exuded the same sense of peace I've experienced in some of my interactions with Tibetan Buddhist monks. The serenity of the crypt overwhelmed me and finally seeing the work of Giotto in the upper chapel was wonderful. But like many travel experiences, I could not fully appreciate the Basilica or Assisi until future visits. I have never failed to be moved to tears in the crypt and am always pleasantly surprised by the reactions of my students. Once a student with reading disabilities read The Canticle of the Creatures on the bus microphone as we drove up to the town so flawlessly I wish his mother had been a witness. On another occasion one student looked at me while sobbing uncontrollably and said, "How can one man with so little do so much? I feel so inadequate. We don't have any excuse." None of my visits to Assisi have lasted more than a few hours. I would treasure the opportunity to deepen my understanding of St. Francis using art, literature and being in his footsteps.
After my last visit to Assisi in 2007 I chose to invest some energy in learning more about Francis. I found On the Road with Francis of Assisi: A Timeless Journey Through Umbria and Tuscany, and Beyond by Linda Bird Francke. It combined two loves - Francis and travel in modern Italy. While hardly a scholarly tome, it exposed to me one of the most fundamental learnings I share with my students - the more you learn the more you realize how little you know. I was humbled by how very little I knew of St. Francis and Italy. It has ignited a true desire to learn more for both scholarly and personal reasons. The NEH Seminar on the "Lives" of St. Francis of Assisi would provide the focused opportunity for the serious study I am looking for coupled with the chance to be in his footsteps and truly experience the artistic interpretations of his life.
When I was very young my grandmother gave me two books that I treasured and have managed to be a part of my life ever since. The first book she gave me was The Field Guide to the Birds. We lived on an acre surrounded by thick forest; I could pass hours and hours watching the birds and studying that book. Though it's well worn and rain-damaged, it has a cherished spot on my bookshelf today. For my first communion she gave me Lawrence Lovasik's The Picture Book of the Saints. I remember being struck by the biography of St. Francis of Assisi, and once that name was etched in my mind I remember noticing illustrations of Francis speaking with wildlife throughout my youth. As a solitary little boy the concept of a saint conversing with and celebrating wildlife captured my imagination. Since then St. Francis seems to pop up in my life every few years as if following me. Driving to work just this morning I heard a National Public Radio story about Franciscans advertising on the New York City subway.
Strangely, for most of my high school and college careers I did not like my history courses. It was not until I had a history teacher who incorporated the arts in her teaching that I began to appreciate the discipline.
Since graduating from the University of Missouri with degrees in history and secondary education I have been a high school social studies teacher. I am currently teaching at David H. Hickman High School, a very large comprehensive high school in the college town of Columbia, Missouri. For most of my 16 year career I have been teaching African-American Studies and World Studies, an interdisciplinary course pairing world history and world literature. When I decided to become a history teacher I made a commitment to using the arts as a way to make history come alive and speak for itself. I have made it a point to teach my students how to look at the arts, particularly visual arts, and use them to tell us about other times and cultures. Over the years, I have also realized the intersection of teaching with the arts and media literacy in helping my students make sense of their world. That global awareness must be coupled with the self-awareness which underlies the importance of spiritual and self-exploration and the need for activism. For all of these interconnected reasons I am interested in the "Lives" of St. Francis of Assisi.
As a teenager I strayed well away from organized religion. But in college I had numerous experiences that heightened my curiosity about spirituality. I remember being struck by what I perceived to be similarities between St. Francis (from a Medieval European History course) and the Buddha (from an Eastern Philosophy course). I was excited by their commitment to a higher cause and bringing great change to their world. Their selflessness and devotion to higher causes spoke to my desire to be a teacher. And Francis' rebelliousness and fearlessness I found inspiring. While my spirituality has been an endless journey I can confidently say that both the Buddha and St. Francis remain role models. I would like to further analyze the similarities between these two great men.
As a teacher I took all of these ideas and incorporated them into my day-to-day practice. In the teaching of both African-American Studies and World Studies I use art. I focus on using the arts to teach us about the values, events, attitudes and perspectives of the past. While art certainly does not speak to every student, I have discovered that just like myself in high school, many students finally begin to grasp the ideas and concepts when they see them expressed visually. Asking students to evaluate the perspectives of the artists throughout world history has evolved into a focus on media literacy in our final unit in which we investigate the influence of mass global communication in the modern world. It has been wonderful to have students use the same skills they learned looking at Donatello's David and apply them to the evening news, a movie, song or a webpage.
In all my classes we discuss patterns and archetypes in literature and history. Students end up fascinated by the similarities between major figures in history, providing us the chance to discuss how we mythologize our heroes. I have little doubt that this trend exists in the various interpretations of the "lives" of St. Francis and I look forward to the opportunity to discover these. Similarly, while studying philosophy, religion and religious figures I always suggest that students look for some universal ideas. Inevitably students discover the importance of living a life to serve others. I hope this moves students closer to discovering some of what Carl Jung would call our collective human unconscious. I hope students find for themselves those ideas and values that humans hold most dear. I believe studying St. Francis can help me become a better facilitator of students discovering these universal truths.
Though I continue to thoroughly enjoy fine food, travel, live music and a good movie, denial of worldly pleasures, monastic contemplation, and a life free from desire are very attractive to me. Our lives are full of distraction and sensationalism. I think this is even more true in my students' lives than it is for me. In my teaching of world history I make a special effort to include the major philosophers and religious leaders from history. Students inevitably find their views and habits challenged by those thinkers who encourage simplicity and a life lived for others. But as my students mature and think about the ideas of people such as Lao Tzu, St. Francis, or even Neil Postman, they come to be intelligent, thoughtful critics and consumers of their culture. Many have been inspired, not to become hermits, monks or philosophers, but to engage with and work to make positive change in their community.
Strangely, some of the most rewarding and personal moments of my teaching career have involved Assisi. Over the last 9 years I have taken five groups of students on educational tours of Europe. Four of these trips have involved the proverbial short lunch stops in Assisi with visits to the Basilica. I was thrilled with my first visit, even if my students were not sure what they were about to see. We had a short tour guided by a friar who exuded the same sense of peace I've experienced in some of my interactions with Tibetan Buddhist monks. The serenity of the crypt overwhelmed me and finally seeing the work of Giotto in the upper chapel was wonderful. But like many travel experiences, I could not fully appreciate the Basilica or Assisi until future visits. I have never failed to be moved to tears in the crypt and am always pleasantly surprised by the reactions of my students. Once a student with reading disabilities read The Canticle of the Creatures on the bus microphone as we drove up to the town so flawlessly I wish his mother had been a witness. On another occasion one student looked at me while sobbing uncontrollably and said, "How can one man with so little do so much? I feel so inadequate. We don't have any excuse." None of my visits to Assisi have lasted more than a few hours. I would treasure the opportunity to deepen my understanding of St. Francis using art, literature and being in his footsteps.
After my last visit to Assisi in 2007 I chose to invest some energy in learning more about Francis. I found On the Road with Francis of Assisi: A Timeless Journey Through Umbria and Tuscany, and Beyond by Linda Bird Francke. It combined two loves - Francis and travel in modern Italy. While hardly a scholarly tome, it exposed to me one of the most fundamental learnings I share with my students - the more you learn the more you realize how little you know. I was humbled by how very little I knew of St. Francis and Italy. It has ignited a true desire to learn more for both scholarly and personal reasons. The NEH Seminar on the "Lives" of St. Francis of Assisi would provide the focused opportunity for the serious study I am looking for coupled with the chance to be in his footsteps and truly experience the artistic interpretations of his life.
Lunch with Alissa
Friday, June 26, 2009
Today we met in seminar again, but as soon as it was over I headed for the bus to Firenza to meet Kristy's long-lost half-sister, Alissa, for lunch. We went where we always go.Osteria dei Pazzi. As usual we had a great meal of crostini, bruschetta, beef carpaccio, mozzarella buffala, tomatoes, assorted cheeses and cured meats and an entire octopus.including the head. That was a special treat. It was may be the only thing we ate that I had never before. It was reminiscent of organ meat - like liver or kidneys, but milder with the taste of the sea. If you like liver or kidneys see if you can get your hands on an octopus head! And of course Alissa ordered a lovely bottle (or two) of wine, in fact the first DOCG wine of Italy. It came from a vineyard that has been producing wine for almost 300 continuous years. Sadly, I had to walk her back to her EF group, only hoping it won't be two years before we see one another again. She does say hello to all of you who have travelled with her.
Today we met in seminar again, but as soon as it was over I headed for the bus to Firenza to meet Kristy's long-lost half-sister, Alissa, for lunch. We went where we always go.Osteria dei Pazzi. As usual we had a great meal of crostini, bruschetta, beef carpaccio, mozzarella buffala, tomatoes, assorted cheeses and cured meats and an entire octopus.including the head. That was a special treat. It was may be the only thing we ate that I had never before. It was reminiscent of organ meat - like liver or kidneys, but milder with the taste of the sea. If you like liver or kidneys see if you can get your hands on an octopus head! And of course Alissa ordered a lovely bottle (or two) of wine, in fact the first DOCG wine of Italy. It came from a vineyard that has been producing wine for almost 300 continuous years. Sadly, I had to walk her back to her EF group, only hoping it won't be two years before we see one another again. She does say hello to all of you who have travelled with her.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Finally a new entry
I am finally here. I arrived on Saturday afternoon after a nearly flawless journey from Columbia. On Saturday evening I met a few other seminar participants and we had dinner. I had a plate of cured meats and a fairly average pizza. The other people seem great. All clearly have their own area of expertise and academic passion. They’re from all over the US each with their own story that brings them here. After dinner we walked around a little. Siena is unbelievably gorgeous. The roads are all small, winding to the contours of the hill. It’s youthful too – and loud, very, very loud.
Sunday morning I slept in – I was exhausted from a 28 hour journey the days before. After I finally crawled out I went out to walk – for hours. It’s a small city in physical size, but the hills are incredible. I think by the time this is all done my legs will be in far better shape….my calves are burning as I write this. Through walking I started to get a feel for the layout of the c
ontrada, the neighborhoods that make up the city. They go by names like catapillar, panther, tower, unicorn. And they have lights and other insignia that indicate which is which. One of the pictures shows a dolphin in blue and white. That is the Onda contrada, the wave.
This is the neighborhood of my professor, Bill Cook. He is a professor at SUNY-Geneseo but fell in love with Siena years ago and was adopted or baptized into the Onda a while ago. I also stumbled upon one the contrada’s parades, the Unicorn. All I heard was this incredibly loud drumming. As I got closer it got deafening – all these old stone buildings, cobblestone roads, and no landscaping – sounds echo! Once I found where it was coming from I found all these guys dressed in medieval costume throwing flags and drumming. Here’s a picture.
Then I headed to the Piazza del Campo, known around here simply as Il Campo. It’s the main civic center. It’s unique because of its clam shell shape. But pictures cannot do it justice. It has a significant hill, very rare for Italian piazzas. And this is where the palio takes place. I decided to have a seat and blend in a little, send
some email, and just soak in the place. As I was sitting there the guys from Unicorn showed 
up again and marched around the piazza. It was sort of funny to watch the clueless tourists try make sense of it – and scramble for a picture of a guy in period dress.
Later in the afternoon the whole group met for a brief walking tour. Bill seems great – funny, irreverent, and completely in love with Siena. He walked us by a couple of key places – a laundry, his favorite pasta place, favorite gelatto place – important stuff. Then we went to our first church, the Basillica dei Servi. The Servi are a mendicant order (a monastic order that depends on charity like the Francsiscans or the Dominicans, therefore lives in urban areas) only found in Italy. The art lesson inside was incredible. While I didn’t necessarily learn anything I didn’t know, I had it all put in a different context. It was amazing. I walked out of that church knowing I was going to be leaning A LOT! One weird thing I learned…they used to do Easter re-enactments. They had a Jesus sculpture they would parade around during Easter week. On Good Friday when the public came to mass they’d find the sculpture on a crucifix. They would take the body down and entomb it in a temporary tomb on the church floor. When they came in the next day they would find the tomb empty – resurrection. The point was that reenactment brought you closer to the event and closer to your faith.
That night a few of us tried Bill’s favorite place for pasta. We walked in and there was no menu. A waiter just came by and told us what pastas had been made today and for what sauces – any sauce is not fit for just any pasta. I had tagliatelli – a wide, flat, thin noodle – with cinghiale sauce – wild boar. It was beautiful. That’s all I can say.
Monday morning we started with the formal seminar. Discussion of the nuts and bolts, introduction, plan for the week, highlights and important dates for the next six weeks. Then we discussed the modern biographies we’d each read. In the afternoon we were off to three more churches, including San Domenico, home of St. Catherine of Siena’s head and one finger! My head is now spinning in medieval mysticism and monasticism.
On Tuesday we met again to start discussing some of Francis’ own writings. It served as a good intro, but now I think we’re chomping at the bit to start some dialogue. I found a great lunch spot for some tortellini panna e prosciutto and some wine – cheap and yummy! Then the group head to the Siena Pinekoteca, art museum. Inside we had more amazing art lessons. One piece particularly caught my attention. It was a rather gruesome crucifix. Jesus is dead, blood squirting from his wounds. Above him there is a pelican nest. The baby birds are pecking at mom’s breast, drawing blood from which to feed. Apparently this really happens. The point – just as in nature, blood feeds the chicks, in Christianity the blood of God fed and renewed humanity from its sin. Nature predicts, for lack of a better word, religion and spirituality.
This idea grabbed my attention because of its link to something that was screaming at me in seminar the last two mornings. The point had been made that Francis, following his meditation in the caves, learned to see the joy in everything, including pain. First, we need to understand that when he said joy he meant something probably closer to our idea of contentment. Next, this is a very similar to concept to the Zen idea of wonderment. When a Zen practitioner reaches a point of satori he or she learns to see of creation as wonderful. Zen also sees nature and its model of simplicity and bending and being meek as symbolic of appropriate human behavior. Just as in Taosim, the blade of grass bends in the wind, the trees collapses. So I am really interested in these universal themes that I am seeing.
Tuesday night I had an
amazing meal at a very authentic place – messy, hand-written, small menu, no English on it – the food was amazing. And when you’re all done…free amaretto and grappa – as much as you want! What a country!
Wednesday we had off and a few of us took in San Gimignano, a hilltop town renowned for its towers. I was a little hesitant – I knew it could be touristy, cheesy, expensive – Rothenburg or Carcasonne for Italy. I was right to some degree….but I may like San Gimignano better than any of them. It was unbelievably gorgeous, not as mobbed as the other two, and I had a great lunch of pici with beef and pork sauce. Pici is a very, very thick spaghetti – like ¼ inch thick. Rich! The views from the city walls look like postcards –some are below.
I’d spent enough on food the last two days that I had to go cheap Wednesday night – 3 euros for the most obnoxious ice cream cone I have ever had. Coconut on top, dark chocolate below….healthy, right?!
Thursday we visited Florence. Though I have been many times before, this was completely different. We started at Santa Maria Novella. The highlight here that most come to see is Masaccio’s Trinity. But we were here to look at two completely different pieces. We started with the Spanish Chapel. The historical significance of this space is that it was in this room during the church council of the 1430s that the Catholic Church defined the Seven Sacraments and re-united with the Eastern Orthodox Church. Only one of those decisions lasted obviously. The room was covered in stunning, perfectly preserved frescoes. One side explains the ideas of Thomas Aquinas. You see the seven liberal arts and seven practical arts on the bottom (each represented symbolically and by a practitioner), the seven virtues on the top, the three major heretics in front of Thomas, and him flanked by church figures.
Sunday morning I slept in – I was exhausted from a 28 hour journey the days before. After I finally crawled out I went out to walk – for hours. It’s a small city in physical size, but the hills are incredible. I think by the time this is all done my legs will be in far better shape….my calves are burning as I write this. Through walking I started to get a feel for the layout of the c
ontrada, the neighborhoods that make up the city. They go by names like catapillar, panther, tower, unicorn. And they have lights and other insignia that indicate which is which. One of the pictures shows a dolphin in blue and white. That is the Onda contrada, the wave.This is the neighborhood of my professor, Bill Cook. He is a professor at SUNY-Geneseo but fell in love with Siena years ago and was adopted or baptized into the Onda a while ago. I also stumbled upon one the contrada’s parades, the Unicorn. All I heard was this incredibly loud drumming. As I got closer it got deafening – all these old stone buildings, cobblestone roads, and no landscaping – sounds echo! Once I found where it was coming from I found all these guys dressed in medieval costume throwing flags and drumming. Here’s a picture.
Then I headed to the Piazza del Campo, known around here simply as Il Campo. It’s the main civic center. It’s unique because of its clam shell shape. But pictures cannot do it justice. It has a significant hill, very rare for Italian piazzas. And this is where the palio takes place. I decided to have a seat and blend in a little, send
some email, and just soak in the place. As I was sitting there the guys from Unicorn showed 
up again and marched around the piazza. It was sort of funny to watch the clueless tourists try make sense of it – and scramble for a picture of a guy in period dress.Later in the afternoon the whole group met for a brief walking tour. Bill seems great – funny, irreverent, and completely in love with Siena. He walked us by a couple of key places – a laundry, his favorite pasta place, favorite gelatto place – important stuff. Then we went to our first church, the Basillica dei Servi. The Servi are a mendicant order (a monastic order that depends on charity like the Francsiscans or the Dominicans, therefore lives in urban areas) only found in Italy. The art lesson inside was incredible. While I didn’t necessarily learn anything I didn’t know, I had it all put in a different context. It was amazing. I walked out of that church knowing I was going to be leaning A LOT! One weird thing I learned…they used to do Easter re-enactments. They had a Jesus sculpture they would parade around during Easter week. On Good Friday when the public came to mass they’d find the sculpture on a crucifix. They would take the body down and entomb it in a temporary tomb on the church floor. When they came in the next day they would find the tomb empty – resurrection. The point was that reenactment brought you closer to the event and closer to your faith.
That night a few of us tried Bill’s favorite place for pasta. We walked in and there was no menu. A waiter just came by and told us what pastas had been made today and for what sauces – any sauce is not fit for just any pasta. I had tagliatelli – a wide, flat, thin noodle – with cinghiale sauce – wild boar. It was beautiful. That’s all I can say.
Monday morning we started with the formal seminar. Discussion of the nuts and bolts, introduction, plan for the week, highlights and important dates for the next six weeks. Then we discussed the modern biographies we’d each read. In the afternoon we were off to three more churches, including San Domenico, home of St. Catherine of Siena’s head and one finger! My head is now spinning in medieval mysticism and monasticism.
On Tuesday we met again to start discussing some of Francis’ own writings. It served as a good intro, but now I think we’re chomping at the bit to start some dialogue. I found a great lunch spot for some tortellini panna e prosciutto and some wine – cheap and yummy! Then the group head to the Siena Pinekoteca, art museum. Inside we had more amazing art lessons. One piece particularly caught my attention. It was a rather gruesome crucifix. Jesus is dead, blood squirting from his wounds. Above him there is a pelican nest. The baby birds are pecking at mom’s breast, drawing blood from which to feed. Apparently this really happens. The point – just as in nature, blood feeds the chicks, in Christianity the blood of God fed and renewed humanity from its sin. Nature predicts, for lack of a better word, religion and spirituality.
This idea grabbed my attention because of its link to something that was screaming at me in seminar the last two mornings. The point had been made that Francis, following his meditation in the caves, learned to see the joy in everything, including pain. First, we need to understand that when he said joy he meant something probably closer to our idea of contentment. Next, this is a very similar to concept to the Zen idea of wonderment. When a Zen practitioner reaches a point of satori he or she learns to see of creation as wonderful. Zen also sees nature and its model of simplicity and bending and being meek as symbolic of appropriate human behavior. Just as in Taosim, the blade of grass bends in the wind, the trees collapses. So I am really interested in these universal themes that I am seeing.
Tuesday night I had an
amazing meal at a very authentic place – messy, hand-written, small menu, no English on it – the food was amazing. And when you’re all done…free amaretto and grappa – as much as you want! What a country!Wednesday we had off and a few of us took in San Gimignano, a hilltop town renowned for its towers. I was a little hesitant – I knew it could be touristy, cheesy, expensive – Rothenburg or Carcasonne for Italy. I was right to some degree….but I may like San Gimignano better than any of them. It was unbelievably gorgeous, not as mobbed as the other two, and I had a great lunch of pici with beef and pork sauce. Pici is a very, very thick spaghetti – like ¼ inch thick. Rich! The views from the city walls look like postcards –some are below.
I’d spent enough on food the last two days that I had to go cheap Wednesday night – 3 euros for the most obnoxious ice cream cone I have ever had. Coconut on top, dark chocolate below….healthy, right?!
Thursday we visited Florence. Though I have been many times before, this was completely different. We started at Santa Maria Novella. The highlight here that most come to see is Masaccio’s Trinity. But we were here to look at two completely different pieces. We started with the Spanish Chapel. The historical significance of this space is that it was in this room during the church council of the 1430s that the Catholic Church defined the Seven Sacraments and re-united with the Eastern Orthodox Church. Only one of those decisions lasted obviously. The room was covered in stunning, perfectly preserved frescoes. One side explains the ideas of Thomas Aquinas. You see the seven liberal arts and seven practical arts on the bottom (each represented symbolically and by a practitioner), the seven virtues on the top, the three major heretics in front of Thomas, and him flanked by church figures.
On the opposite wall you see the teachings of the Domicans. My pictures doesn’t do it justice, but it explains sin, righteousness and the way to heaven.
Other parts of the room explain the life of Peter Martyr of Verona, one of the favorites of Dominicans. The room was stunning in its beauty and its historical significance.
Back in the main church we looked at the fresco cycle behind the alter done by Ghirlandaio, teacher of Michelangelo. Amazing – vibrant, so obviously important to the history of the Renaissance. It told the stories of Peter Martyr and St. John. I am ashamed that I never took the time to study these before.
Then we headed to Santa Trinita for a look at another chapel painted by Ghirlandaio. This one celebrated St. Francis and the specific phenomenally wealthy family, the Sassatti, that paid for it. Symbolism abounds. For example, Sassatti comes from sasso, or rock in Italian. So the name means little rocks. What’s in foreground?….little rocks that seemingly have no purpose. We also see all sorts of allusions to classical Rome, yet it’s clearly all based in Florence. Who is the natural heir to the greatness of Rome? Where should the papacy sit? Who should be the leader of the Renaissance Italian peninsular superpowers? Florence?
The we walked over to the Ospedale degli Inoocenti, a Renaissance era hospital specifically for orphans, designed by Brunelleschi. The building itself was beautiful. Upstairs we headed for one particular piece by Ghirlandaio, while walking right past a Botticelli. But it was gorgeous work, stunning colors.
A quick bowl of carbonara (I have had and made better, but the quality of ingredients was great) and we’re into the medieval baptistery. Though I have peaked in here before, I’ve never really stood inside and took it all in. The mosaics on the ceiling are like nothing I have ever seen, made more breathtaking when you realize that parts of them are almost 1000 years old. Don’t go to Florence without seeing this.
Next we’re off to Santa Croce, home of tombs of Michelangelo, Machiavelli, Rossini (William Tell Overture), Galileo and Dante (but his body is in Ravenna). But not without a stop at Vivoli, arguably the best ice cream on earth.
Santa Croce is going through extensive renovation, but is still stunning. Our focus was on a wood panel of St. Francis that shows 20 different stories related to him and was painted about 15 years after his death, making it one of the earliest paintings of him that we have. Technically, the painting wasn’t much, but for a study of Francis, it is vital to discovering when certain stories get attributed to him. We also saw the two level cloisters, a Cimabue cross damaged in the 1963 floods, and the mess hall for the Friars, one of seven in Florence that feature a last supper painting. Makes sense, uh?
Back in Florence on Friday to see Alissa. Lunch at Osteria dei Pazzi. Hope all is great with all of you. Stay in touch….jandfarmette@msn.com.
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