Florence, the capital city of Tuscany, is the birthplace of the Renaissance. This rebirth (renaissance being the French word for “rebirth”) of all things cultural after the Dark Ages of Europe is found around every corner of Firenze, from the immense grandeur of the Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore (known the world over as “The Duomo”), to the Ponte Vecchio, the double-decker bridge built over the Arno so that elites did not need to mingle with commoners, to the manicured Giardino di Boboli (“Boboli Garden”) behind the Pitti Palace. The city was a veritable garden during springtime; the varying flowers of artistry springing forth from the dark rich soil.
Another masterpiece of this time, among countless others, is found at the Galleria Degli Uffizi; the instantly recognizable Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli.
It occurred to me as we stopped for another leisurely coffee break (great artwork is best digested with caffeine, carbs, and a little sugar!) that we had stood/were standing where great artists had tread. Might Leonardo Da Vinci himself have stopped in this very spot, where I was fiddling with my day bag, and felt the first stirrings of the Vitruvian Man? On this step, did Dante Alighieri (author of Inferno) sit to contemplate the third circle of hell (the circle of gluttony)?
In spite of the unparalleled magnificence of this city, it stank like a pig sty. Maybe Michelangelo should have spent less time on David and more time on figuring out how to better the Florentine sewer system. What a pity he hadn’t!
