Country Gentleman Hat does San Gusme'

Welcome to Tuscany -- San Gusme' Style:

And now, the food:

Fig fiore freshly picked from an old man's vineyard

Chocolate Ice cream--yum!

Pork steak with grilled veggies

I miss this kind of day...

Wake up to espresso and Tuscan Bread...

...Discover ancient churches...

...And end the day along L'Arno River:

Ink & Watercolor

Dropping off some eye candy to let you readers know I'm still alive. It's like when kidnappers send hostage letters to remind everyone that the captives are still there. Except this isn't written in cut-out magazine letters. Oh, well.

Ink & watercolor: Santa Croce, Firenze

I kissed David goodbye...

So, it may have been a month since I've posted on here, but like I said in my previous post: I am not dead! Though I'm back in the States and fully immersed in my studies, I assure you devoted blog-ees that I will still update my blog with my (past) Italian adventures.

One memory I've been meaning to share is pretty phenomenal. Even if you're not an art aficionado, just the mere mention of Michaelangelo usually rings some bells. And no, not the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

During my first week a Firenze, my art restoration teacher (he-who-must-not-be-named-lest-he-get-in-trouble-for-this-post) let us in on a special surprise--we were getting an inside tour of the Medici Chapels. Now, I was a completely ignorant, poor soul; I had no idea why the Medici Chapels were so spectacular. But when we had to arrive before the Chapels' official opening time and have the Museum Director clandestinely let us in whilst de-activating every alarm known to man, I realized this was no small thing...

The official entrance of Le Cappelle Medici

We then entered the Prince's chapel, an enormous octagonal room filled with marble, gold, and as with all Renaissance art, frescoes.

La capella dei principi: the Princes' Chapels completed in 1642. Marble walls supporting a fresco (of course).

I could've stayed in this room forever to take illegal photos. But my teacher urged us to continue because he had much more in store for us...

So, after much cajoling, he led us into La Sacrestia Nuova, a room containing the tombs of some of the Medici Dukes. The two most famous tombs belong to Lorenzo and Giulano, Dukes to their own respective dominions.

Tomb of Lorenzo Duke of Urbino (Il Pensieroso) accompanied by Dawn. Executed by Michaelangelo 1520-1534.

Tomb of Giuliano, Duke of Nemours accompanied by Night (left) and Day (right). Michaelangelo used a special type of marble to chisel Night; note how luminescent she is and the difference in color.

Then, if getting illegal photos of those wasn't cool enough, my teacher hurried us to this tiny, tiny room to the right of tombs. We knew something was strange when we realized that the door to this room was barricaded and the Director punched more numbers in to de-activate an alarm. It honestly looked like a closet. But then, LO--There was a trap-door in the floor!

...And it led to...

...A secret room!

This room was discovered in the early '60's by a small group of renegade art restorers. It's a tiny room (it barely fit all of us) and was originally closed down only a few years after its discovery. Since Michaelangelo and the Lorenzo family were not on good terms (who was with Michaelangelo's temper??), he had this secret room built and often retreated to draw and sketch, fresco style.

In this tiny room, he would lay down wet plaster and have his assistant hold up a candle as he drew on the wet plaster with charcoal. Note the burn marks on the wall...

As the plaster dried, the charcoal was absorbed, thereby departing permanence to a very insubstantial medium (similar to the fresco painting technique).

Thus, it lasted decades of flooding and weather changes. But what's really cool is that this is where he began drafting the Medici tombs sculptures.

Do those legs look familiar? Scroll up to the tomb sculptures and compare!

This was all happening before he left Florence for Rome when the Pope became his patron. Eventually, of course, he went on to paint the famous Sistine Chapel (1521-1524). But it was here in this dark, small room that he first drafted David. Yes, the David, the massive marble symbol of Florentine freedom! It was here that he imagined David's fierce, stoic warrior pose upon slaying Goliath; it was also here that he imagined David's dichotomous nature, as both warrior and gentle creature: for the first time, David's face was portrayed with a solemn, contemplative look.

...With those lips, I couldn't resist!

I'm a sucker for thinkers.

It is also hotly debated that he first drafted the Sistine Chapel paintings here...you can be the judge:

v. Sistine Chapel

All in all, it was an incredible experience. To uncover Michaelangelo's thought-process and painstaking labor of love was undeniably inspirational. Comparing the initial drafts with the final product was breath-taking; it reminds me, even now as I write this, that given the dedication, energy, and perseverance even the smallest of charcoal smudges can become something colossal, monumental, and unforgettable.

Ciao ciao for now!

...And the Beat Goes on...

So, in both sad and happy news I'm finally back in the States, a little nostalgic, a little more travel-savvy, and a lot more gelato- and pizza-filled. Though I'm back in the good ol' US of A, my devoted blog-ees, I assure you that the beat shall go on!

I will continue blogging about my Italian adventures, especially since I have, oh, about 300 more photos to comment on and share.

You can still prowl the site for posts about my trip to Venice, my trysts in Tuscany, my amazing meals in Italy, and my penchant for sweatily trekking one famous dome, two famous towers, and one famous palace rampart.

Stay tuned, because I ain't goin' no where!!

Fresco Restoration 101: Death to Life

10 STEPS TO RESTORING A FRESCO

Well, yesterday was certainly unexpected. I finally finished my fresco based upon Boticelli's Madonna del Mare and was excited to bring it home back to the States. But oh, wait. I painted the fresco on plaster-- meaning an actual wall! Thus it'd be impossibly heavy (and pretty pricey!) to bring back. Our professor, Lorenzo Casamenti, had prepared for this, though.

To take our frescoes home, we were to learn the first part in restoration, namely pulling the fresco painting from the plaster wall and transferring it onto canvas. Dicey, I know. We did what true art restorers did centuries before us and what our professor does regularly to transport valuable frescoes. The only catch, however, is that transferring a fresco from plaster to canvas chips away some of the paint, or in other words, destroys it. But that's when HaRdXcOrE restoration painting skillz come into play!

Here's the transfer, step-by-step (day-by-day...remember that show???):

Step 1. Adhere canvas to fresco (on plaster) with animal glue. This glue is very special and usually made from elephant or giraffe cartilage. No joke. This will cause the painting to peel off from the plaster and stick to the canvas. A reverse image is made.

Step 2. After allowing a full day for the paint to be pulled up from the plaster, you sand away the back portion with all the extra plaster that may have joined the ride and attach another piece of canvas behind the painting using synthetic glue. This creates a "fresco sandwich," (canvas-fresco-canvas).

Step 3. Again, allow a full day for the synthetic glue to dry. To remove the first piece of canvas attached with animal glue, soak the entire "fresco sandwich" in a hot water bath.

Step 4. To detach, rub the painting gently and allow the glue to dissolve while you pull away the front canvas. The painting should adhere to the canvas with synthetic glue (it's no longer the reverse image).

Step 5. Pat dry. Pat dry again.

Step 6. Repeat step 5.

Step 7. If patting's not enough--use a blow-dryer on crack! Aka 100x hotter than a normal hair dryer!

Now for the restoration bit, since most of the painting, as you can tell, is damaged:

Step 8. Paint the missing bits in with dilute tempera paint. Apply onto the parts where obvious damage has occurred. Continue adding dilute tempera tint, really, until it's in the same color family as the original. It's important, apparently, that the paint not perfectly match the original to show where the restoration has occurred without detracting from the piece's entirety.

"We don't want an imitation! We make similar, not the same!"

--Prof

Step 9. Step back and squint-- It's alive!

Step 10. Pick spinach from teeth.

Shadowplay

Today marked our official "Farewell" from LdM. We had a small dinner (tapas-style) thrown in our honor and were seated on the terrace of some fancy hotel of which I can't remember the name.

Anyway, on this terrace dinner party there was a huge sign with the hotel's logo on it. Being the Leo that I am and noting my dear friend's AMAZING camera, I naturally suggested a photo shoot. Silhouette style. Needless to say, insanity ensued.

Also, earlier today (before class) my housemates and I gathered together and climbed Giotto's Campanile, or the famous bell tower, of Florence. Honestly, it was a mere 414 steps compared to the Duomo (463 steps), Siena's Campanile (600 something steps)...and my apartment (73 steps but on a hot day!). At first I was very, very, very reluctant to climb yet another tall building. But somehow I convinced myself that it'd be worth it if I took Quasimodo-inspired pictures at the top of the belltower. Worth it.

Shadowplay:

Kayla, the true arteest

Irene working the sweater, making magic happen

Lisa twerking the angles, making jaws drop

Irene and I truly inspired by Florence...

No, that's not gelato belly. That's my romper belly.

I'm a liger!

And Earlier in the Day...

View of the Duomo from the Campanile

Florence below (Palazzo Vecchio in the distance)

Esmerelda touching the bell...

...AND QUASIMODO LURKING AROUND THE CORNER!!!!!