Florence…Firenze…Furnace Part Due (still too hot too)

Looking southeast (?) from the Uffizi

July 21 (still): So, after walking over to the Uffizi from our wonderful, expensive Negronis at the Hotel Lungarno, we found that we needed to amuse ourselves around there because it wasn't time for us to enter. So we did something we always enjoyed doing: we wandered. And here are some of the sights we saw while wandering:

Tree of Peace, by Andrea Riggs, 2021

The building behind this sculpture is the Torre dei Pulci, which was destroyed in a 1993 Sicilian Mafia bombing, one of a series of terror attacks in a campaign to warn its members to not turn state's witness following the January 1993 capture of Mafia boss Salvatore Riina. The building was rebuilt, but with different materials where the damage had occurred as a reminder of what had happened. Five people were killed and 48 injured. The Mafia bosses who had ordered that bombing weren't found guilty until 2000.

We wandered on through narrow streets and passages ...

... to come out into the Piazza della Signoria where many magnificent sculptures awaited admirers (who were plentiful):

The Rape of the Sabine Women, by Giambologna

Heracles and Nessus, Giambologna

And of course, the copy of David

And then the even more monumental Fountain of Neptune

We missed the plaque in front of this fountain, noting that this was the location of the torture, hanging, and burning of Dominican friar Girolamo Savonarola and two of his supporting friars. Short story: They were not well loved by Pope Alexander and the Church in general.

Also, it's interesting to note that this great sculpture has been the victim of numerous imbecilic tourist damages through the centuries--the most recent of which was caused by yet another imbecile (German, not American) who just had to climb on one of Neptune's horses to be photographed standing in front of Neptune. He caused about $5,000 in damages (the horse lost a hoof) and was also fined a hefty fee. Yay.

And on another note, it's a wonder there is any uncarved marble left in this world, what with the overwhelming number of statues and sculptures (of all sizes, including huge such as the Fountain of Neptune) in Firenze alone...

Here's Perseus with the Head of Medusa, by Benvenuto Cellini

Loved these beasts at the base of Hercules and Cacus, by Bartolommeo Bandinelli

The pigeons didn't seem alarmed by those beasts.

So much to see--and we hadn't even entered the Uffizi yet! But we were about to do so.

By the time we entered the Uffizi, we had limited time, so we chose to skip the overview exhibit on the ground floor and instead head to the top floor in order to work our way down from the antiquities to the more contemporary artworks. So we climbed:

...and climbed...

They were beautiful stairwells, but very long...

Once there, we almost never made it off the top floor, because we got so wrapped up in the endless corridors of statuary. I must curb my desire to post all my photos here; there are just too many. So, a few outstanding images, starting with just a couple of the ceiling frescoes in the East Corridor painted by Alessandro Allori in the 1500s. (I was so taken by these frescoes that I started photographing every one of them--but I soon realized the folly of that because there were so many.)

Notice the small portraits below the ceiling. That every inch of the ceilings was covered by these exquisite, highly detailed frescoes was just mind-boggling. You can see how long this corridor is, and there were two more corridors treated in the same manner, painted in the following two centuries.

In looking through my photos, I discovered an interesting thing: I took pictures of two sculptures that were almost exactly identical. At first I thought I must have doubled back and taken a second photo of the same sculpture. Looking closer, I realize they are different. Does this mean the two artists were in the same class (Life Sculptures 101, say)--or did the same artist not like the first rendition and so re-sculpted the entire thing? Unfortunately, I didn't recognize that this was some sort of interesting discovery, so I didn't check the artists' names while there. It will be forever a mystery to me unless I manage to return to Florence.

We saw hundreds (at least, so it seemed) of statues of men, young and old, in naked heroic stances. This brought up another thought: I had recently read a disturbing Pro Publica article about penile enlargement and the number of men who feel inadequate about the size of their penis. It seems to me that they should all be required to first go to the Uffizi to study these statues before undergoing such a drastic procedure. Nary a one of these heroic, mythical men represented in those long corridors had what anyone would consider a large penis. Surely all these contemporary men would come away understanding that they're normal and stop trying to measure up (pun intended) to some ideal that really doesn't exist.

Okay, rant over. Here are just a couple of other sculptures from those long galleries:

The gallery corridors were just the beginning of what must be seen on that top floor. Off to the side were galleries holding paintings, some of the most recognizable masterpieces in the classical art world. So let's take a peek.

Virtues, by Piero del Pollaiolo, 1469-70

Annunciation for S. Martino, by Botticelli, 1481

Here's an interesting observation (I'm sure everyone else already knows this and why): In most of the many Annunciation paintings we saw in our travels, Mary is almost always depicted as having been interrupted in her reading. Would this humble girl have known how to read? Why was she always reading? Curious minds want to know.

Primavera, by Botticelli, late 1400s

Another Botticelli: Madonna of the Pomegranate, 1487

I sort of got wrapped up in the Botticellis. This one, I loved the frame as much as the painting.

And, of course, The Birth of Venus

A side gallery we could only gaze upon in wonder

Stunning inlay floor

In that same gallery, a tapestry with an interesting rendition of the Medici crest

Triptych by Andrea Mantegna

Another gorgeous frame to match a beautiful series of paintings

Sacred Allegory, by Giovanni Bellini, c. 1490

This Sacred Allegory struck me as totally modern in style, somehow. I could have studied this for hours, I think, and found so much to ponder (but I recognized none of the iconography offhand).

Adoration of the Magi, by Leonardo da Vinci, 1482

Never finished...

Another da Vinci--his earliest extant work--completed while da Vinci was an apprentice in the studio of Andrea del Verrocchio.

Brilliant colors

Doni Tondo, by Michelangelo, 1500

More brilliant colors, and another awesome frame

Leda and the Swan, by Jacopo Pontormo (Carracci), 1512-13

Medusa, by Caravaggio, 1597

This could definitely inspire some nightmares

Another Caravaggio: Bacchus, 1598

So many more paintings I had never imagined seeing in person! My camera arm grew tired. As we progressed downward through the Uffizi, we heard the dreaded announcement of imminent closure, and thus wended our way to the exit, which of course took us through a huge, well stocked shop. (Cindy and I were fortunate that our limited luggage had no space for extra items; we saved a lot of money that way.)

We left with the last dregs of the day's visitors and headed to the Piazza della Signoria, where we knew we could rest our weary feet and have a late-afternoon libation. We found respite at the Rivoire, where misters deceived us into believing we weren't quite as hot as we actually were.

Following this spot of refreshment, we began our wandering back to where we were staying. We had had a late lunch, we were tired, and we weren't very hungry. So we thought perhaps we could just find some ice cream on the way back.

A couple of interesting buildings along our way:

Orsanmichele Church

St. Luke, one of the sculptures in the walls of Orsanmichele

St. John the Baptist, in another niche

Another street artwork. I loved finding these along our walks. I guess you can never have too many religious icons along your way; you just never know when you'll need to pray for someone or something.

And yet another palace. This one is the Palazzo Ramirez de Montalvo, with remnants of frescos

We finally found our way to a gelateria and cafe, another tiny hole in the wall that had lovely ice cream. That seemed to satisfy our evening's food cravings, and so we headed back to our room. (Terrie had already let us know that she was in for the evening.)

And we finished the day with a couple of small public art pieces (whether official or not, we didn't know and didn't much care; they intrigued us anyway):

And thus ended my birthday. A lovely, fully packed day of extraordinary beauty and small adventures.

Next up: our last day in Florence--and it certainly ended with some excitement! I'll get to it soon, I promise.