The theme this year is “La Moda Unisce l’Italia” – Fashion Unites Italy. Every part of this fashion show is organized and put on by the students and teachers of the Istituto Cellini- Tornabuoni di Firenze. Students from the fashion studies program have created these historic reproductions of costumes from 1861 to now, made in silk, wool, and lace. These are based on various drawn and photographic sources. There will also be modern pieces inspired by the Risorgimento. Teachers have, of course, directed them in their work, instructing them on the fineries of design and sewing using antique techniques. The same school’s graphic arts program has been in charge of the invitations and posters, while the mechanics area has been busily making souvenirs for the crowd.

The Istituto Tornabuoni has been operating in Florence since 1919; fused with the B. Cellini school in more recent years, the school offers a programme whose roots are in the artisanship upon which this city is built. This creation of physical, quality objects is not nostalgia but a way to understand the present and create solutions for the future.

The costumes on the theme of the silk road were presented a few months ago at a fashion show (complete with Bollywood dancing) at Palazzo Vecchio. They accurately reproduce costumes from Marco Polo’s last voyage to the Orient; through research, students recreated the clothes worn by Marco Polo himself, the pope at the time, the Doge of Venice, and various nobles in Venice, as well as costumes from the Oriental countries to which the explorer traveled – Turkey, Japan, China etc. All pieces are designed and executed by students of the final two years of high school under the guidance of their teachers Liana Spatafora and Sonia Salvini.

They are on exhibit in the space off via Cavour for just a few days. Check out the beautiful photos and stop by if you have the chance.

Walls have always been an unregulated area for communication, visible to all, on which people have written (in florence, sadly, perhaps too much). Now with internet, there are virtual walls that one has to have access to. Walls allow one to express anonymous, sometimes transgressive thoughts.

Walls can also be barriers that divide us, that divide cultures, races, create discrimination… There are more subtle walls of indifference and negativity. On the other hand there are security walls, walls within which we live happily, solidly.

Which walls are which? Students from the high school Cellini-Tornabuoni present a photography exhibit organized as a reflection on the fall of the Berlin wall at its 20th anniversary. These young people have thought through all these things and contributed this small exhibit as a reflection on walls in general. Without perfection, and with different photographic media, from the reflex to the snapshot camera to the cell phone, images sought with emotion.

Location:

Chiesa di S. Carlo ai Barnabiti
Via S. Agostino, 19 – FIRENZE
Ore 16:30 > 19:30

View Larger Map

The video is amusing yet accurate, and it’s fun for me to see how this student has perfectly translated the history of the Palazzo Vecchio’s construction as Prof. Hatfield teaches it. The content of that lecture, with my own spin on it, ended up in one of the first posts on arttrav (around November 2005) and a podcast too. Read, or listen to, the history of late medieval Florence and the Palazzo Vecchio here!

This is the contest winner in the Student category. Garret won a copy of The Food Lover’s Guide to Florence so that he can get in a good meal every once and a while!

Hello, my name is Garret Tufte. I recently came to Florence to study creative writing, and, having graduated from the University of Kansas, I now spend my time wandering through the city, gazing in awe upon wine, women, music, and art in the open air. This is my creative impression of Piazza della Signoria and its Dueling Statues.

I have spent significant time in Piazza della Signoria, nights and days, hearing street musicians between there and the Uffizi, the bottleneck at the corners of Palazzo Vecchio and the Loggia dei Lanzi sculpture garden. I hope for the violinist playing his popular classical pieces, or the solo guitarist, seated, plucking his own brand of laid-back, adult-contemporary instrumental. I should also mention the singer/songwriter cover artist, crooning Bob Dylan and Kris Kristofferson, though the less said, the better.

I stroll through the sculptures in the loggia, absorbing priceless works. Funny how glorious wonder works; put oneself in the right frame of mind, regardless of stress, pain or sadness, turn the switch to “see” and these great statues make one’s mind their own. That is, the artist labors tirelessly for years with the same image, emotion, theme, and style. If he does it right (and there is no quantifiable way to tell one way or the other), the magic happens. This inanimate piece gains a voice of its own, greater than the artist himself. And it speaks. The art, the subject. Our minds, the object. Translation-less transference, the act. Solo violin Vivaldi’s “Summer”, an encouraging frame. A straining “Bridge Over Troubled Waters”, a sour hindrance.

These masterpieces encircle the viewer (yes, even in a rectangular loggia) and battle for attention. Yet always something calls from just beyond the rail. A wide-stepped walkway, flanked unselfconsciously with rectangular-potted shrubbery, leads from the piazza to the main entrance of the Palazzo Vecchio. Look left, look right, and one sees pedestals. Look up: there be colossi, two guards and a simpering victim beneath one.

Michelangelo’s David stands at ease, draped by his sling (apparently, he is quite tense, but to be honest, I do not see it). One knee bent, muscles tight and fit. He is so relaxed, yet strong, judicious and notably aware of his presence. He does not seem to notice Michelangelo sculpting him.

Then, to his left, to our right, two brutes of vulgar musculature, curly-haired and bearded. Virtually indistinguishable body types with creases like valleys, their facial wrinkles and muscle strands. Cartoon-ish, steroid-injected statues. The slightly larger of the two stands, grasping the crouched one by the hair, pulling the face of his victim towards his crotch, club in hand.

There is a story here; I consider it. A male rape. Then a murder. But a club in the crouched one’s hand? Perhaps it is a consensual thing; they occasionally like to throw a bit of pain in there. But such a heavy brow, such deep eyes; he casts them toward something in the distance. This standing brute expresses a fearful resolve. The crouched one begs in torment. These fearful expressions. What is the subject?

Perhaps it is for protection that they crouch and hair-tug. One stands strong. Perhaps an older brother. A compatriot in war. So close in battle; in the trenches they are. A deep friendship or something more. But with clubs. And nude. This is surely the ancient world. Perhaps it is of the Greeks. Or Old Testament, just after the Garden of Eden. Who were those brothers – Cain, Abel, Seth? One of them to killed another, I believe. That’s the war, perhaps. That’s the fear; that’s the proximity. They stand on scorched earth, a rock, a tree stump; in exodus. They grip tightly, flexing. Just for show? Or with adrenaline?

I have since learned that this piece is Baccio Bandinelli’s “Hercules and Cacus”. I am certainly not a scholar, but I can hardly see any indication of that specific subject. Not that this is a failing, but really, Cacus is supposed to be a fire-breathing monster.

It is quite enthralling, an intricately-styled masterwork. But, it is grotesque alongside the David.

The David, with his lucid pose and physicality. Though a mere replica, technically, there is no comparison. And yet, there they stand, protecting the palazzo. The hulking brutes serve the purpose quite well, but the David does not belong. He should not be relegated to “guard duty”. And certainly not in the company, and at the same rank, as those beasts.

I see an obvious disparity between these two statues. I know I am stepping outside my bounds, but I would like to make a proposition. The David does not belong opposite the other intriguing, but flawed, piece. He should be moved parallel with the palace wall five meters further from the palazzo entrance, to the north, closer to Donatello’s “Judith and Holofernes”. Hercules is fine where he is, captain of the gate, but David needs his separation. In addition, the potted shrubbery could then angle more moderately, widening the walkway. To put it simply, Michelangelo’s masterpiece should never stand on equal ground. Another pedestal is needed, in the form of space.

And while we’re at it, have that beatnik with the guitar quit singing Simon and Garfunkel.

Disagree? Check out the colossi (and the music) in from of the Piazza Signoriaat any time of day or night, and post your comments here – let’s fight it out!

Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons

This is the story of how Miriam’s study abroad experience inspired her to create a series of necklaces based on the display of goods in Italian open-air markets. Thank you Miriam Rowe for contributing your wonderful photos and story to arttrav!

I knew I needed inspiration.  Athens, Georgia, where I had been for almost four years, had a lot of exciting things to offer, but I was tired and felt like my artwork was suffering because of it.  I’ve always looked to my surroundings for artistic inspiration, but I had seen the same things for so long, I felt like I needed a change.  This change came in the form of a chance to spend my last semester of undergrad studying in Cortona, Italy with the University of Georgia’s study abroad program. 

As part of my final semester of my BFA degree in Jewelry and Metalworking, I was required to create a series of pieces with a related concept or technique.  I wanted to be inspired by my surroundings, and I had heard enough good about the Italian experience to hope that it wouldn’t fail me.  Our program met in Rome, spent a few days there, then moved on to Florence.  I saw so many museums and churches in those few weeks — more objects and concepts than I could absorb at once.  While I took in all of the exquisite and masterful works, I looked at how the themes, concepts, and techniques of these masterpieces could be translated into jewelry.  My notebook from those few weeks was filled with ideas for my show, but even with all of the ideas that Rome and Florence inspired, I couldn’t find anything that inspired me enough to make a whole series of jewelry.

After a few weeks of travel, our program moved to Cortona, a small but historically important town in Tuscany where we would make our home for the next few months.  We got to Cortona, settled into our new lives and learned our way around town.  I spent a lot of time pouring over ideas and designs, looking for a way to let Italy inform my work. 

a market

Eight weeks away from my show, with no concept and no work, I was starting to get desperate.  One night we had a professor from the program give a talk about her work, and she spoke about doing what you love.  I had a flash of clarity, then reached for my sketchbook and spent the next hour writing down the things about Italy that appealed to me the most.  By the end of the evening, I had the theme for my show and had designed my first two pieces.  I spent the weekend doing some experiments; seeing how the materials would translate into jewelry and making sure the technique would be the best one to use. 

I had decided to work on markets, something I observed and loved in Italy. I would create a series that explored the playful use of goods found in Italian markets in the context of jewelry. I noticed that, like artists, market vendors use color, line, and repetition to advertise their wares, so I designed a series of five neckpieces with those design elements in mind.

vintage lace

The five necklaces in the series explore different goods sold in marketplaces: produce, clothing, linen, and jewelry itself.  The visual elements of the neckpieces were inspired by vendors’ displays, using form and repetition to draw in the viewer. These neckpieces explore form through the repetition of similar shapes, using materials found in marketplaces as design elements and content.  All of the necklaces were cast using the lost wax process and were made with Shibuichi, a Japanese Silver-Copper alloy.

Cloth

The lace necklace is carefully flattened and shaped, while the cloth necklace looks like cloth that has been picked up and handled by passers-by. The necklace made with jewelry fragments uses portions of many different pieces of jewelry bought in Italian markets to create one cohesive display out of many smaller jewels.

Seeing produce displayed in open-air stalls, out of the normal grocery store context, adds a new level of interest to the wares.  Instead of being packaged together in plastic or thrown into a pile to be picked through, these individual fruits and vegetables look like gems on display.  The long strands of peppers hung from market stall roofs were the inspiration for the red pepper necklace’s slices of peppers hanging off the chain.  The mushroom and kiwi necklace shows the produce displayed in a different way: sliced, sorted, and carefully arranged.

The show at galleria il pozzo

I held my show at the Galleria Il Pozzo, an incredible art gallery in the basement of a tabacchi on Cortona’s main street, Via Nazionale.  The Galleria carries all kinds of art work- from leather-bound books to paintings to ceramics- the greatest thing about this venue is that there is an excavated Etruscan well, a few millenia old inside the gallery.  This very typical Italian venue was the perfect setting for this collection, titled “Market in Metal”. 

While sipping on a glass of Tuscan wine at the opening reception for my show, I looked at the series of necklaces that had taken so much of my time over the last few months.  The long days and nights, doing little but working in the studio with short breaks for meals and sleep, were suddenly worth it.  I was in Italy — I was inspired and life was good.

Miriam Rowe has been making jewelry since she was ten years old.  She received her BFA in Jewelry and Metalworking from the University of Georgia in the United States.  In the fall she will be attending England’s Birmingham Institute of Art and Design to work towards an MA in Jewellery and Silversmithing from the largest jewelry school in Europe. To see other art projects or to read more about her time in Italy, visit www.miriamrowe.com

My students ponder Raphael at the Vatican

Studying abroad can be an exciting time for students.  Intercultural experiences are exciting, sometimes frightening, transformative, and often life-changing.  You are now living in a new culture, with norms that are entirely different from what you’re used to at home. Maybe gender roles are different in your new culture, or food, or transportation, or you miss being away from your family (and possibly adapting to a new host family).  You’re also studying and learning a new subject, in a place that is probably integral to that subject! But you’ve got all kinds of feelings about cultural differences and adapting to living in this new country.

 A natural response to these cross-cultural differences is termed cross-cultural adjustment (also known as culture learning or culture shock). Cross-cultural adjustment encompasses both learning about your new culture, and of learning your home culture in a new way. Things that seemed normal at home can take on a greater importance when you are in a new culture.  You miss your friends and family at home, and homesickness can set in.

Before leaving, predeparture orientation and language programs can be an extremely important tool for preparing students for an intercultural experience. The orientations can provide both culture-specific knowledge, as well as culture-general knowledge that serves to educate learners about cross-cultural issues and generally reduce uncertainty about the upcoming intercultural experience. You can prepare by learning the language, exploring your new home through travel guides and the internet, and finding new friends overseas before you go. However, what a student brings into the experience can affect their time studying abroad and intercultural adjustment.  Being flexible, open-minded, eager to learn, self-aware, curious, and possessing communication skills can do much to facilitate a great intercultural experience.

Once you’re there, one of the best ways to both adapt to a new culture and push through homesickness is to immerse yourself into your new culture. Learning another culture is a long and complex process, requiring a constant shifting of one’s frames of reference and learning from one’s companions and surroundings.  Learn more about where you are. Experience more of the culture – through restaurants, language, new friends, art, music, and time spent enjoying important attractions or parks.  You’ll become more excited about your new home and eager to share it with your loved ones.

The nature of life for an intercultural being is joyful – but also difficult at times. You must challenge yourself to grow, experience new things, travel, and continue to learn. Once you’ve started down that path, it is impossible to reverse course. But once you’ve started down that path, you also won’t want to. Curiosity and the desire to learn about others – people, cultures, languages, food, differences – is now within your very self.

Jessie Voigts has a PhD in international education and is the Publisher of Wandering Educators.

The Assignment

University of Georgia graduate student John Blair Hartman III took the challenge. Here is his paper.

Checking the Facts: The Passion of Artemisia

Over the last ten years, Susan Vreeland has written five novels based on historical painters. While historical figures are frequently the basis of fictitious works, we are often left to wonder if the events and biographical information in these stories are factual or included for the sake of entertainment and the ease of story telling. When reading Susan Vreeland’s portrayal of Artemisia Gentileschi, The Passion of Artemisia, similar questions arise pertaining to the validity of many of the facts. There are no footnotes or other citations to provide the reader with sources, and while the story is presented as fiction and citations may not be necessary, it leaves the fact checking in the hands of the reader. Furthermore, Susan Vreeland’s career has not been one of a historian. She taught high school English for 30 years before beginning to publish these novels (Vreeland bio, 2009). Along with that of Artemisia Gentileschi, she has told stories of Vermeer, Emily Carr, Renoir, and several other Impressionists, suggesting she has not sought to become an expert in one area, but has jumped around in pursuit of an interesting story… she is a novelist after all. The awards she has received for her writings come from literary groups and magazines rather than historical societies and groups, providing hints at her target audience. Still, the number of facts she presents in The Passion of Artemisia is quite overwhelming, and having first published this in 2002, she had access to a wealth of research done on Artemisia over the past fifty years. So how accurate are the facts Vreeland presents within The Passion of Artemisia? I will seek to explore that question within several quotations and facts found throughout the novel.

The Passion of Artemisia is written from the perspective of Artemisia Gentileschi. It begins in Rome in 1612. Artemisia is living with her father Orazio Gentileschi who has publicly accused another painter, Agostino Tassi, of the rape of his daughter. The novel begins with the trial itself and portrays Artemisia as she then moves to Florence and is married to another painter, Pierantonio Stiattesi. While the couple may have stayed in Rome longer than the novel states, the author spends the majority of the book focused on Artemisia’s time in Florence. The remainder of the novel focuses on her career and family life as she tries to balance them. She is accepted into the Academy, is commissioned for and completes multiple paintings, encounters several prominent Florentines, and has children. Given what we know about Artemisia Gentileschi, these basic plot events are accurate (Lapierre, 2007, p. 198-199). While Vreeland takes liberties to describe Artemisia’s responses to these events, she has chosen to stay within the perimeters of what we know for the broad picture. To go further in depth I will examine some of the details Vreeland chooses to include.

Vreeland writes:

The words of the indictment my father had sent to Pope Paul V rang in my ears: “Agostino Tassi deflowered my daughter Artemisia and did carnal actions by force many times, acts that brought grave and enormous damage to me, Orazio Gentileschi, painter and citizen of Rome, the poor plaintiff, so that I could not sell her painting talent for so high a price.(p. 1)

Almost as the opening to the novel, Artemisia is reminded of this letter from her father to Pope Paul V. Upon checking the facts, not only was Pope Paul V (Camillo Borghese; 1605-1621) the pope at the time, but there is a letter in existence very similar to this one referenced by Vreeland.  The undated petition brought suit against Tassi in the early part of 1612 (Garrard, 1989, p. 410). While it seems Vreeland edited it down a bit to suit her writing, she uses similar language to that of the original or at least that of the translation by Efrem G. Calingaert, later edited by Mary D. Garrard. In fact, several terms, like “deflowered” and “poor plaintiff”, seem to be taken directly from this translation. One key difference, however, can be found in Vreeland’s addition of concern Orazio shows for selling his daughter’s painting talent, which seems to be absent from the original. The novel later depicts Artemisia’s relationship with her father as strained following the trial and this difference may be attributed to the author’s creating that conflict. 

I rolled up my Susanna and my Judith and my Woman Playing a Lute and fastened them with a ribbon. I didn’t know when my belly would swell…I had wanted to show the academy four completed canvases, and though I’d finished Judith, I had no other full-size paintings. (p. 60)

Soon after Artemisia becomes pregnant she becomes eager to get into the Academy. She brings these three paintings, implying that each was completed before the arrival of her first child. These paintings were indeed her first signed completed paintings. Susanna and the Elders is dated 1610, Woman Playing a Lute is dated 1612, and Judith Slaying Holofernes (Naples) is dated 1612-1613 (Lapierre, 2007, p. 199). The last of those paintings is believed to have been finished before her move to Florence, which is where she had her first child. Whereas personal details surrounding her family life and any eagerness to join the Academy may be unavailable, the circumstance Vreeland describes is plausible. This is an example of a part of the book in which Vreeland has pieced together some missing elements, but does not directly contradict known facts.

Eventually I had enough work, and confidence, to show Michelangelo Buonarroti the Younger” (p. 77)…”Might I commission you for a panel in quadra riportaro?” he asked…He opened a copy of Cesare Ripa’s Iconologicia… “Place her against a deep blue sky. Give her a proud aspect.” (p. 79)

Michelangelo Buonarroti explains to Artemisia that this commission will be part of a ceiling filled with paintings. It is known that Michelangelo Buonarroti was indeed a friend and patron of Artemisia He was a strong advocate for her in Florence and did commission the Allegory of Inclination from her in August of 1617 (Garrard, 1989, p. 41). He also must have had a personal fondness for her or her work as she was paid three times the amount of some other painters for her contribution to his ceiling (Garrard, 1989, p. 44). As Vreeland mentions in her depiction of the conversation between the two, it is possible Artemisia already had reputation for depicting female nudes by now. Also, Vreeland is correct in that this piece was indeed for a cycle of ceiling paintings that would have been unified with an idealized blue background (Garrard, 1989, p. 42).

I began working on another Judith Slaying Holofernes, essentially the same composition but with different faces and richer dresses. This time, Judith’s would be deep gold, which seemed to be a Florentine preference, and would have fuller sleeves pushed up in order to do her work. And because Florentines loved Jewelry and decorative touches, I put gold braid on Abra’s headscarf and gave Judith a bracelet with figures of Artemis carved in green stones framed in gold filigree. (p. 101)

In the novel, this part comes just after she is accepted into the Academy. She is working to impress those who had doubted her ability, and in the effort to continue to gain a name as a painter. This description is indeed an accurate one of the Judith Slaying Holofernes that she completed while in Florence. The pose is extremely similar to that in her previous one, and Judith does wear a deep gold, as opposed to the red, and has thicker sleeves. Likewise, Abra’s headscarf is braided and the jewelry was added. Although dates were largely excluded from the novel, a discrepancy does appear in the timeline within this selection. Artemisia became an official member of the Academy in 1616 (Garrard, 1989, p. 34) while Vreeland explains the creation of this painting to be in the wake of that excitement. In reality, Artemisia worked on this painting in 1620, and it was one of the last she would have worked on in Florence.

The first Judith I painted for Cosimo- you may remember it, the one in which she is slaying Holofernes- Cosimo said he would pay for, but has not…A private word, as his former tutor, might do much to remind him of his promise. (p. 151)

Here Artemisia writes Galileo a letter, with whom she is now on friendly terms. This letter implies multiple things; that Cosimo obtained that specific yellow-dressed Judith and forgot to pay, that Galileo was a friend of Artemisia, and that Galileo would have influence with Cosimo. As was the case with Orazio’s petition to the pope, we have a real letter from which Vreeland probably drew. The letter from Artemisia to Galileo says how she finds herself in this situation. She reminds Galileo of the time he helped her receive an “excellent remuneration” for the Judith she had given Grand Duke Cosimo (Garrard, 1989, p. 383).  The Judith given to Cosimo II de’ Medici was indeed the Florentine Judith, and given the information we have, the letter to Galileo may not be far from the truth. Again, the one problem with this may be the timeline, as this painting was done just before she left Florence and so a letter like this may have not existed until after she had left the city.

In conclusion, Susan Vreeland appears to have made a serious effort to stay factual throughout The Passion of Artemisia. She allowed herself freedom in dealing with the timeline and occasional other details, but for the most part tried to base her writing on events we can prove from Artemisia’s life. While far from a historical record, The Passion of Artemisia serves as an example that historical fiction can be informative and grounded in facts.

About the author: John Blair Hartman III is a graduate student at the University of Georgia, working towards his Masters in Art Education. His interest include, but are not limited to art, music, writing, storytelling, rocking chairs, exploring forests, fly-fishing, ultimate frisbee, foxes, and spending time with loved ones. Upon graduation next year he hopes to work as a public high school art teacher in the southern Appalachian mountains of North Carolina and thus urges readers who can offer him a job there  to contact him. (email: jbhartmaniii at gmail dot com)

References

Garrard, Mary. (1989) Artemisia Gentileschi: The Image of the Female Hero in Italian Baroque Art. Princeton: Princeton University Press. [garrard's book on amazon]
Lapierre, A. (2007). Artemisia Gentileschi. [Lapierre's book on amazon]
E. Nicholson & R. Price (Eds), Italian Women Artists from Renaissance to Baroque.(pp. 198-199). Milan: Skira.
Vreeland, S. (2002). The Passion of Artemisia. New York: Viking.
Vreeland, S. Autobiographical Statement. Retrieved April 24, 2009, http://www.svreeland.com/bio.html.

Further reading on arttrav

• For a newly discovered and restored work by artemisia see here.
• For the biographical film about Lavinia Fontana made by Blair and 4 other students, see here.

Sofonisba Anguissola, Old Woman studying the alphabet with laughing girl (Florence Uffizi)

Students in my advanced seminar on “Women and the Arts in Early Modern Italy” have been assigned the production of a short film biography on a female artist of the Renaissance or Baroque period. They were asked to produce an informative, scholarly, and factually correct interpretation of an artist whose presence on the internet is minimal – hence not Artemisia Gentileschi. With this project we hope to increase awareness of the activity of female artists in the early modern period by making films and related resources available to the general public.

 The three groups’ films on Lavinia Fontana, Sofonisba Anguissola, and Elisabetta Sirani can be viewed in separate posts.

Bibliographies are provided for further research and reading; we also highly recommend the resources available through the National Museum of Women in the Arts website.

Me: You met Marco when you came to study abroad in Cortona, Italy. What part of this experience was most important to you?

Arturo: Meeting Marco has been a wonderful experience. I wrote a song about him! The thing about Marco is that he’s a modern man living in a modern world, but at the same time he and his modern world are both rooted in an ancient past. That’s why I’m glad I could take a course in Italian Renaissance Art while I was over here. It allowed me to be come more intimate with that past that has so much to do with where Italy is today. [editor's note: he wrote that, i did not make it up! Not only is AJ a journalism student, but he's a diplomat.]

Me: You were concerned that your portrayal of your Italian professor, Marco, was perhaps too superficial. After all, the guy does have two PhD’s! What did Marco say to this?

Arturo: I haven’t had an in depth discussion with Marco about these lyrics, but I think that’s because we are friends. He can hear in the song and read in the text that I have a deep respect for him. All I have received is smiles and friendly nudges since I first brought the song to Marco. He helped me edit the text because my Italian is broken and grammatically unsound.

Me: Tell us about making the video, once you convinced Marco to do it. Anything funny happen behind the scenes?

Arturo: There definitely would have been a bloopers reel had this been a feature-length film. When we first arrived at the bedroom we were shooting in there was some confusion about how scantily Marco should be clad. I was afraid that when I asked him what he normally wore to bed, he might reply “in the nude.” But then I guess I and the crew would have gotten a real life look at what Renaissance sculpture models looked like, or at least what Michelangelo wished they looked like.

Me: Your video and song test the limits of self-production. For the tech geeks out there, tell us what equipment you used.

Arturo: We’ll just have to leave that up to the expertise of our music and cinema peers to find out. But for everyone else just know that we had enough to make the dream a reality. (Spenser said we shouldn’t tell because the equipment is bottom of the line.)

Me: Does Marco have an email address to receive letters from an onslaught of admirers? And how will you deal with the screaming fans?

Arturo: I would give out Marco’s email address if I thought it was necessary, but given that the uomo already knows half of Italy I’m sure that he’ll have to change it in due time anyway. I will deal with the screaming fans by embracing them all. Love to the people!

Me: Can we have the lyrics?

Arturo: Of course! They’re at the bottom of this page, and translated too.

Songs and contact info: www.myspace.com/arturoinletto

Arttrav encourages friends to forward “Ciao Marco” to all the Marco’s out there, and to everyone else. Let’s help AJ make it to the top. Please give him a 5 star vote on YouTube!

Original Lyrics

Marco é un uomo
Che é molto forte
e meraviglioso
Ha occhi d’argento
A tutte le feste
Balla incantevolemente
Insegna agli studenti
Nella clase di italiano

Pensa molto
Sta cercando qualcosa
Aspetta solo
Un giorno lui trova qualcuno

Le ragazze dicono ciao marco ciao marco
Le ragazze dicono ciao marco ciao marco!

Marco é un uomo
Che é intelligente
Anche é arguto
Sempre parla bene
Lui é di Roma
Una bella città
Va in una macchina
Che é bellissima

Pensa molto
Sta cercando qualcosa
Aspetta solo
Un giorno lui trova qualcuno

Le ragazze dicono ciao marco ciao marco
Le ragazze dicono ciao marco ciao marco!

English translation of lyrics:

Marco is a guy
Who is very strong
He’s great
He has silver eyes
At all the parties
He dances wonderfully
He teaches students
In italian class

He thinks a lot
He’s looking for something
He’s waiting alone
One day he’ll find someone

All the ladies say “Ciao Marco!”, “Ciao Marco!”
All the ladies say “Ciao Marco!”, “Ciao Marco!”

Marco is a guy
Who is very smart
He is also clever
And always talks well
He is from Rome
A lovely city
Goes around in a car
That is really nice

He thinks a lot
He’s looking for something
He’s waiting alone
One day he’ll find someone

All the ladies say “Ciao Marco!”, “Ciao Marco!”
All the ladies say “Ciao Marco!”, “Ciao Marco!”

More Photos!

 

 

 

Elisabetta Sirani, Portia wounding her Thigh, Houston, Miles Foundation

The Funerary Procession of Elisabetta Sirani

Summary: Elisabetta Sirani was a 16th century female painter from Bologna. She exceeded the expectations for her sex by painting scenes atypical for a female artist. Unfortunately, not much is known about her; what is known is that after her tragic death at age 27 Bologna held a lavish funeral in her honor. The procession was attended by many of her contemporaries who are portrayed in this film to express the little information available on the life of Elisabetta Sirani.

Authors: Jessica Snow, Sean Brice, Margaret Rancourt, Michaele Maddox

Select Bibliography:

Bohn, Babette. “The Antique Heroines of Elisabetta Sirani,” Renaissance Studies Vol.16 Issue 1 (March 2002):

“Elisabetta Sirani.” Encyclopedia of World Biography. Thomas Gale. 2004. Accessed 29 Mar. 2009 [http://www.encyclopedia.com]

“Elisabetta Sirani; Italian, 1638-1665.” National Museum of Women in the Arts. Accessed 20 Mar. 2009. [http://www.nmwa.org/collection/profile.asp?LinkID=417]

Sofonisba Anguissola, Bernardino Campi painting her, Siena: Pinacoteca Nazionale

Sofonisba Anguissola: More than a Woman

Summary: Sofonisba Anguissola (1532-1625) surpassed the expectations of women during the Italian Renaissance. She was well educated and trained under the tutelage of Bernardino Campi from 1545 to 1549 and thereafter with Bernardino Barri. With the help of her father, her works were well marketed and dispersed within the influential social circles of Florence. A letter between Sofonisba’s father and a Roman general described the presentation of two drawings, one by Sofonisba and the other by Michelangelo Buonarroti, to Cosimo Medici around 1562. Within this letter, a story is told of Michelangelo asking Sofonisba to draw a more difficult expression of sadness; her reply was the image, “Boy Bitten by a Crayfish.” Her ability to create highly animated portraits allowed her to have a long flourishing career as an artist and created a lasting legacy that made her “more than a woman”.

Authors: Carol Telesky, Kendra Hunt, Rebecca Rastegar, Alexandria Covert. Actor: Jim Woglom.

Links: There is an excellent biography of Sofonisba and list of works here! You may also read about her at the National Museum of Women in the arts website.

Select Bibliography:

Fulmer, Betsy, “Sofonisba Anguissola: Marvel of Nature,” Academic Forum 23 (2005-06) : 20-34.

Garrard, Mary D, “Here’s Looking at Me: Sofonisba Anguissola and the Problem of the Woman Artist,” Renaissance Quarterly XLVII, 3 (1994) : 556-622.

Jacobs, Fredrika H. “Woman’s Capacity to Create: The Unusual Case of Sofonisba Anguissola,” Renaissance Quarterly 47, 1 (Spring 1994), 74-101.

Ross, Sarah Gwyneth. “Anguissola, Sofonisba,” entry in Encyclopedia of Women in the Arts: Italy, France, and England, eds. Diana Robin, Anne R. Larsen, Carole Levin (ABC Clio, 2007), 14-18.

Here’s the video.

Lucca Kebab Controversy: So Good They’re Illegal? from Diana Salvatore on Vimeo.

For further information on Lucca and its art please see my earlier post: Lucca’s 100 churches (I only saw three of them today).