A Tourist in Florence

Yes, it hit us all during Picture Day: our time in Florence is rapidly coming to an end. So I decided to get out my guidebooks so that I could list all of the things that I haven’t had a chance to do yet, and then to make my way through the list. And it’s a pretty long one:

1. Salvatore Ferragamo Museum
2. Bargello Museum
3. Casa Guidi
4. Alinari Photography Museum (Cézanne exhibit)
5. Palazzo Davanzati
6. Museo dell’Opera del Duomo
7. Museo di Firenze Comèra
8. Museo Horne
9. Palazzo Vecchio
10. Giardino dei Semplici
11. Opificio delle Pietre Dure
12. Santa Maria Maddalena dei Pazzi
13. Museo Marino Marini
14. Santa Trinità Church
15. Santi Apostoli Church
16. Ognissanti Church
17. Santa Spirito Church
18. Palazzo Pitti
19. Museo Bardini
20. Museo La Specola
22. Odean Theatre (Cézanne film)
22. Biblioteca Nazionale (“Grand Tour” exhibit)
23. Anthropology Museum
24. Fort Belvedere (modern art exhibit)
25. Baptistry

Boy, I’d better get busy! So I set out on Friday, April 20, to see how many I could check off. And that weekend I did pretty well, visiting five places on Friday and one on Saturday.

My first stop on Friday was Palazzo Davanzati, which is right down the street from my apartment. This palace is also known as Museo dell’Antica Casa Fiorentina, which is a perfect name because this museum gives you a wonderful glimpse of how wealthy Florentines lived in the 14th century. You first walk into a courtyard that was specially designed to ward off unwanted visitors. You see, the courtyard had mechanisms for first trapping the visitors, then pelting them with missiles. I guess you would have really wanted to be on the good side of the Davanzatis!

It appears, too, that the Davanzatis were ahead of their time. Many of the rooms had attached bathrooms, which was quite uncommon in those days. They had also had their own well and had devised a unique pulley system to lug buckets of water to the upper floors. This in a time when most Florentines had to get their water from a local fountain!

The ceilings had sturdy wood beams, and the walls were completely covered with vibrant frescoes, some showing scenes from a French romance. Oh, those racy Davanzatis!

Next I walked by the Baptistery, which is right next to the Duomo. I’ve come by here so many times, and never has it been open. Today was no exception. But I did have a chance to admire the East Doors of the Baptistery, which were created by Lorenzo Ghiberti after winning a competition in 1401. In fact, he beat out Brunelleschi in this competition; you might remember that Brunelleschi went on to construct the famous dome, so he didn’t end up doing too badly! The bronze door, which took Ghiberti 28 years to complete, is made up of ten panels, each depicting a scene from the bible. They include:

1. Adam and Eve being expelled from Eden
2. Cain murdering his brother Abel
3. The drunkenness of Noah and his sacrifice
4. Abraham and the sacrifice of Isaac
5. Esau and Jacob
6. Joseph sold into slavery
7. Moses receiving the Ten Commandments
8. The Fall of Jericho
9. The battle with the Philistines
10. Solomon and the Queen of Sheba

The panels are so detailed and striking that Michelangelo, upon seeing the door for the first time, referred to it at the “Gate of Paradise.” I was so excited to finally see this door. You see, ever since I’ve been in Florence, it’s been covered by a plywood wall for cleaning. Only one problem though—the door I was looking at was only a copy. So, where might the original be? Would you believe Atlanta, Georgia? I actually already knew this as my dad had sent me an article from The Atlanta Journal and Constitution.

So how in the world would Ghiberti’s famous door end up in Atlanta? Well, it’s only there on loan temporarily, and what an amazing coup for the High Museum. They did it by an arrangement with Florence whereby the High Museum financed 40 percent of the cost to perform badly needed restoration on the door. In exchange, the door will be on display in the High Museum from April 28 through July 15. As you can imagine, this is highly controversial to the Florentines!

After admiring this copy (and knowing that my parents will ironically be able to see the original), I walked past the Duomo to get to the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, a museum dedicated to the history of the Duomo. As I was walking through admiring the displays, I kept asking myself, “Why haven’t I been here before?” It was that interesting. The newly remodeled museum begins with large open spaces filled with Etruscan and Roman reliefs. There is also a side room with 14th- and 15th-century religious paintings. There’s also a reliquary containing the finger of San Giovanni. (Even after all this time in Florence I still don’t get this relic thing!)

But these are the things I really wanted to see. I had to head to the second floor for those. And right there, at the top of the stairs, is Michelangelo’s Florence Pietà. What makes this particular sculpture so unique is that many believe that Michelangelo has placed himself into the work. If you look closely at the face of Nicodemus, standing behind Mary, you’ll notice that it looks remarkably like Michelangelo himself. And this makes sense. You see, although the sculpture is unfinished, Michelangelo originally planned that it would be his own funeral monument. It’s too bad it never served this purpose as it’s really quite stunning.

The next room I entered was sheer delight! It was a room filled with children, all sculpted into choir lofts and reliefs. And these children were enjoying themselves—singing, playing instruments, and dancing, all with jubilance. The first set of reliefs was created by Luca della Bobbio in the 1430s. The choir stall was designed by Donatello in the same year. I especially enjoyed reading a description of these two in my Fodor’s guide: “But while della Bobbia’s figures seem innocent, Donatello’s look like frenzied participants in some primitive ritual.” And that’s exactly what they look like in comparison. See whether you agree.

There must be something about Donatello, for in the next room I discovered his wooden statue of Mary Magdalene, which he completed in 1455. Now I’ve seen all forms of Mary Magdalene, in both paintings and sculptures, but never have I seen one quite so scary. Let’s just say that I wouldn’t want to come upon this thing alone in the dark!

Luckily the next room was a little more uplifting, literally. Here on display are examples of the tools and pulleys that Brunelleschi used to create one of the most important architectural works in the world: the campanile (dome) of the Florence Duomo. Fascinating!

Finally, near the exit, I discovered a few of the restored original panels of Ghiberti’s “Gate of Paradise.” I guess I just made it before they’re shipped off to Atlanta!

Next it was time to see another home, so I walked down the street a short way to Museo Horne, which displays a small collection of paintings, sculptures, and decorative arts that Herbert Percy Horne left to the city of Florence upon his death in 1916. What I enjoyed better than the art, though, was seeing the house itself, which is a well-maintained example of a Renaissance palazzino (small town house). (If this is small…) It was built in 1489 for the Albertis, a wealthy Florentine family involved in the cloth trade.

After a quick lunch, I was ready to see some shoes! My next stop was the Museo Salvatore Ferragamo, a private museum dedicated to the life of Salvatore Ferragamo, probably the most famous shoe designer who ever lived. The collection of shoes on display spans his career from 1927 until he died in 1960. And what a remarkable career it was! Ferragamo was known for his creative designs, unique colors, and innovative materials. And because of the beauty of his designed, stars all over the world have long been attracted to his shoes. On display were shoes he had designed for Marilyn Monroe, Judy Garland, Eva Perón, Sophia Loren, Bridget Bardot, Loretta Young, Lana Turner, Carmen Miranda, Greta Garbo, Lauren Bacall, Gene Tierney, Rita Hayworth, and my favorite, Audrey Hepburn. In addition to the shoes, the walls were lined with black-and-white photos depicting Ferragamo with a variety of stars. And there was a wonderful film that showed how often Ferragamo shoes have been used in films, and still are today. Yes, his legacy lives on, and the company continues to be hugely successful today.

The museum itself is located in the Palazzo Spini Feroni, a medieval palace built in 1289. Ferragamo purchased the building in 1938 to serve as the headquarters for his company and his own workshop. Although I wasn’t allowed to take pictures of the shoes inside, I did capture a few of the building itself. I must also admit that this was possibly the most interesting museum I’ve visited in Florence, which is probably blasphemy but it’s true. At least I found myself smiling more than I have in any other museum I’ve visited!

My last stop for the day was one that I’d been looking forward to the entire time I’ve been in Florence: Casa Guidi. Just what is Casa Guidi, you might ask. This is the home on the south side of the Arno in which the poets Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Robert Browning lived from April 1847 until Elizabeth’s death in June 1861.

Perhaps it’s the love story I’m so attracted to. Elizabeth and Robert fell passionately in love when they met in May 1845, but Elizabeth’s father, who was a religious fanatic, vigorously opposed the relationship. So in September 1846, Elizabeth and Robert were secretly married in London and snuck off to Italy. They lived in Pisa for six months and then settled in Florence, a city they both instantly fell in love with. Elizabeth once wrote to a friend, “When all’s said and signed, I love Italy. I love my Florence…Florence is my chimney-corner, where I can sulk and be happy.”

The building they moved into is Palazzo Guidi, which Elizabeth nicknamed Casa Guidi, a palace built in fifteenth century. It was such a pleasure to walk through the rooms where the Browning spent so many happy moments. The home consists of six furnished rooms, a kitchen, and an entrance hall. Elizabeth wrote her letters and poetry in the home, and she and Robert entertained many visitors, including John Ruskin, William Westmore Story, and Anthony Trollope.

After Elizabeth died, Robert, heartbroken, moved to Venice where he later died. The building remained in the possession of the Guidi family until 1893, when Pen Browning, Elizabeth and Robert’s son who had been born in the house, purchased it. Unfortunately, he died before he was able to restore it, and the home was sold to a couple from Georgia. Fortunately, they also had plans to preserve it as a memorial, and in 1916 they created the Browning Foundation. Finally, in 1992 Eton College took ownership of the home and, with the help of the Landmark Trust, opened it to the public in July 1995. Thank goodness there are people and organizations out there who realize the importance of keeping a place like this alive.

On Saturday, April 21, I had a lot of errands to run and chores to do, so I managed to check just one thing off my list: the Biblioteca Nazionale. I wanted to visit the library to see an exhibit called “Il Viaggio in Toscano,” which was about the Grand Tour, that obligatory trip that students from wealthy families took as part of their cultured upbringing. The exhibit ran through today, so I made it just in time.

But getting into the exhibit wasn’t as easy as I thought. I entered the library and had to pass through a metal detector; however, there was no one at the security desk, so I just walked on through. I had about ten minutes before the exhibit opened, so I decided to explore the library. As I walked around the building, admiring various display cases, I came upon some stairs with signs telling me that various rooms were located up there, including the Rare Books Room. That sounded interesting, so I started up. I was about halfway up the stairs, when I heard shouting. I turned around and realized that the man at the bottom of the stairs was yelling at me. In Italian he was saying something like, “What are you doing?” I explained that I was touring the library. He, in no nice terms, informed me that the library was for members only. Now, this is Florence’s main library, but unlike our public libraries in the U.S., you must be a member. Who would have thought? I apologized profusely (Mi dispiace!). This guy was angry, and I didn’t want to make him even angrier. I explained that I didn’t know (Non lo so!), and then he suddenly became apologetic to me! After all, he had been pretty darn rude!

Anyway, after I explained that I had really come to the library to see the exhibit, he allowed me to go back upstairs where it was located. And it was really interesting—a collection of maps and books related to the Grand Tour. Some were even in English, and I loved being able to read about how Florence was described to these student tourists in the 18th and 19th centuries. But I didn’t linger long—I knew that guy would be watching the stairwell closely until I came back down!

I ended this wonderful weekend by meeting Toni, Coley, and Janet for lunch at La Terrazza del Principe, the delightful restaurant on the other side of the Arno that Chip and I had stumbled upon a few weeks previously. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. We sat on the terrace, overlooking the Boboli Gardens, Janet looking pretty in her new spring hat. Even the chef was enchanted by her!

We dined over a three-course meal: pasta, meat dishes, and dessert. Everything was exquisite! Afterwards, Janet and I walked home along a cobbled, walled lane, brilliant yellow flowers in bloom everywhere. We stopped by Fort Belvedere to enjoy the spectacular views over the city.

And because we weren’t quite ready for this incredible day to end. Janet and I met later at Caffe Rivoire for a cocktail, my first-ever Brandy Alexander. A toast to spring weekends in Firenze!