Godfathers of the Renaissance
Dec. 16th, 2013 08:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
capn_n_pyeMost of the next few days in Florence were Medici-themed, but first we had a Duomo ticket to use up.
There are only 414 steps in the Campanile (the bell tower), so it's a quick jaunt to the top. We'd gone up in 2004, reasoning that although the dome was higher, you can't see the dome from the top of it. We're pretty sure you could mash your camera against your forehead and still get an awesome shot of a brilliant view. Here is the proof.
It was a shame it was another hazy day, but at least it wasn't foggy. As we descended, we had to pause to let a family past. Dad and Kid One went past, leaving mum literally dragging Kid Two behind her.
"MUM I NEED A REST!" Kid Two was whining.
"NO, WE ARE GOING ALL THE WAY TO THE TOP!" Mum was bellowing back.
As far as we could tell, no one was flung from the top, so it must have all resolved itself.
Our duties to the Duomo dispersed, we could turn our attention to the Medici legacy. The Godfathers of the Renaissance spent a lot of time and money putting their stamp on Florence. The Palazzo Pitti was shut the last time we tried to visit, so we thought we'd best make up for it this time. There were a couple of different ticket options and we chose the one that included the Boboli gardens but excluded the Royal Apartments (we're sure they are beautiful, but we'll take a giant garden over an over-decorated room any day).
Our ticket entitled us to enter a few other museums which we tried desperately to be interested in. The Museo degli Argenti houses the important Medici treasure, in the Summer Palace on the ground floor that Grand Duke Ferdinando I had decorated in 1635. It has all sorts of shiny things like the cameos of Cosimo I and jewels and semi precious stone vases and rock crystal objects and miniature portraits and more ...
While we quite like bright and shiny things, we're not sure anyone should have so much of it that it takes up more than ten rooms to display... We should also point out that Pye got around the ‘no photo’ rule here by being blithely unaware of it and boldly taking them whenever she wanted (until she got busted).
Since we were being cynical and hard to impress, the Galleria del Costume was so uninspiring as to almost make us forswear clothing entirely (unless you're really, really into hats and the occasional 1980's ball gown). However, eventually it convinced us to put our pants back on, by showing us the sixteenth century funeral clothes of Grand Duke Cosimo de'Medici, his wife Eleonora Di Toledo and their favourite son, Garzia. Mind you, to get them someone had to dig up the three of them and strip them naked, whaaat!
We thought we'd have a spot of lunch before disappearing forever into the Boboli gardens, so grabbed a focaccia or two at the cafeteria. We expected inflated prices, but we were unprepared for the unique experience of paying €6 for salmon focaccia and €6 for a 500ml Fanta. Maybe the Fanta was made out of gold and that's why it was orange - someone should put that sucker in the Museo degli Argenti!
We had visited the Giardino Boboli last time, so knew just where to look if we wanted to see a fat naked dwarf riding a turtle (always a useful skill – we might not remember basic mathematics, but we file the truly important information away securely):
We think the little dude got caught trying to ride away from the Buontalenti Grotto...
There’s another grotto in the main courtyard which isn’t quite as disgusting, but has some really sinister cherubs. We’d like to think we’d deeply mistrust the little bastards, even if Doctor Who hadn’t already prejudiced us against them.
Our ticket also gained us entry to Giardino Bardini, a garden we'd never heard of before. Turned out, to get to it, you have to exit the gardens, go past the Belvedere Fort, look for contradictory laminated signs that are confusing even by Italian standards, before ending up a few hundred metres down the road in front of an unassuming door. You do get to pass some rather nice street art, so that helps a bit with the swearing and cursing the planners.
Once the intrepid garden-lover has completed this trial, however, they find a large garden or rather, three - a formal garden featuring a late eighteenth century stairway...
...an Anglo-Chinese garden from the early nineteenth century, including a dragon canal...
... and a seventeenth century villa hanging out in 'farmland' that's growing Tuscan fruits. It probably is completely spectacular in season, since it was still doing okay in winter. It also has something going for it that the Boboli hasn't got a handle on - clear visitor information (once you find it), and interesting leaflet and good signage. It also has some very nice terraces and views. A+, Bardino Gardens (or a C, if we’re going on VELS ratings).
Heading back to the Boboli gardens, we found our way to the highest spot to see what we could see.
We also had a good, mature look at the fountain with Neptune hanging out in it and didn’t make any jokes about him having his bum cleaned.
We admired the avenues and layout of the gardens...
... but were devastated to learn the Museo delle Porcellane was shut! We were so looking forward to admiring porcelain from many of the most notable European porcelain factories, especially the several large dinner services by the Vincennes factory, not to mention a collection of small biscuit figurines. Woe, woe, woe is us! We considered flinging ourselves into the L'Isolotto, while Mooselini encouraged us...
...but thankfully (given the state of the water) were distracted by a couple of sets of peasant statues. Once upon 2004, they were delighted to meet us, and we forbore our Ophelia impression to renew old acquaintances. This was us in 2004:
We have matured enormously since then.
The problem was, once Stinky had Photoshop open, things got a little bit out of control.
Then Pye got a little punchy...
...and Mooselini might have got a bit combative, too.
Emotionally exhausted from that experience, still we could barely wait to see what else Florence had to throw at us. Turns out it was this:
Yeah, totes saw that coming. Just in case they were heralds of an invading army, we retreated up the tower of Palazzo Vecchio, where they have a thing for bars, and the view from the top is obscured by the wall. They have one viewing platform (on the important side), but if you want to see anything that’s not the Duomo, you have to go down a level. The tower’s only 221 steps high, so it was nothing compared to the other tower or the dome, but again it’s impossible to have a bad view of Florence.
When we were sure the coast was clear we came down and tried to go to the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, since it was closed the last time we were in town. We'd checked this time and it said it was open every day until at least 1pm. We arrived in the AM to be told that it was shut for Sunday, come back tomorrow. FINE, we probably wouldn't be allowed/able to read your old books anyway, we'll just lurk suspiciously in your courtyard, ha.
Speaking of looking suspicious, we really enjoy Florence’s signage, particularly the one that warns you to hold your boobs. Not everyone is impressed by this.
If we couldn't hang out with Lorenzo Medici's books, we thought we could at least go back and see his family's splendid Chapel of the Magi in the Palazzo Medici Riccardi. It's in a building that was a Medici palace (built in the fifteenth century) until they sold it to the Riccardi, who may or may not have baroque it. The inner courtyard isn’t baroque, it’s just pretty.
Mooselini was respectful in the chapel and even might have thought it was cool how back in 1459, the artist (Benozzo Gozzoli, sounds like a species of monkey) rendered the Medici's and their mates (and even some of their enemies) into the procession of the Magi. There were so few people visiting, that we might have even been able to sneakily do this from outside the chapel...
In summer you’d get seven minutes in there, but we had as long as we wanted. The security chick didn’t give a shit about anything any more, she just sat in a corner room and did her Sudoku. Eventually Mooselini made us leave, and he continued to the Baroque reception halls and rubbed his arse on a bunch of stuff.
Honestly, don't put a sign there if you don't want him to do it - it's called Oppositional Defiance Disorder. He liked the frescos in the gallery decorated by Luca Giordano...
...but quickly got into a dispute with some armed cherubs painted on a mirror and we had to act quickly to distract him with some other mirrors...
Thank goodness it worked, otherwise he would have got us kicked out before we had a chance to review the garden, courtyard, permanent exhibition (ancient marble busts), and at least three temporary exhibitions (of varying degrees of interest, but breathing life into the edifice). Still, we think Mooselini deserves a bit of this action:
The sun was still shining as it lowered in the sky, so we dashed down to the Arno to make the most of it.
Well-dressed Italians literally showing off their Sunday best clogged the footpaths and many of them were wearing fur. Mooselini was not in the least bit happy about this and swiftly located an ally. We left them plotting and left town so as to avoid any responsibility for what happened next.
There are only 414 steps in the Campanile (the bell tower), so it's a quick jaunt to the top. We'd gone up in 2004, reasoning that although the dome was higher, you can't see the dome from the top of it. We're pretty sure you could mash your camera against your forehead and still get an awesome shot of a brilliant view. Here is the proof.
It was a shame it was another hazy day, but at least it wasn't foggy. As we descended, we had to pause to let a family past. Dad and Kid One went past, leaving mum literally dragging Kid Two behind her.
"MUM I NEED A REST!" Kid Two was whining.
"NO, WE ARE GOING ALL THE WAY TO THE TOP!" Mum was bellowing back.
As far as we could tell, no one was flung from the top, so it must have all resolved itself.
Our duties to the Duomo dispersed, we could turn our attention to the Medici legacy. The Godfathers of the Renaissance spent a lot of time and money putting their stamp on Florence. The Palazzo Pitti was shut the last time we tried to visit, so we thought we'd best make up for it this time. There were a couple of different ticket options and we chose the one that included the Boboli gardens but excluded the Royal Apartments (we're sure they are beautiful, but we'll take a giant garden over an over-decorated room any day).
Our ticket entitled us to enter a few other museums which we tried desperately to be interested in. The Museo degli Argenti houses the important Medici treasure, in the Summer Palace on the ground floor that Grand Duke Ferdinando I had decorated in 1635. It has all sorts of shiny things like the cameos of Cosimo I and jewels and semi precious stone vases and rock crystal objects and miniature portraits and more ...
While we quite like bright and shiny things, we're not sure anyone should have so much of it that it takes up more than ten rooms to display... We should also point out that Pye got around the ‘no photo’ rule here by being blithely unaware of it and boldly taking them whenever she wanted (until she got busted).
Since we were being cynical and hard to impress, the Galleria del Costume was so uninspiring as to almost make us forswear clothing entirely (unless you're really, really into hats and the occasional 1980's ball gown). However, eventually it convinced us to put our pants back on, by showing us the sixteenth century funeral clothes of Grand Duke Cosimo de'Medici, his wife Eleonora Di Toledo and their favourite son, Garzia. Mind you, to get them someone had to dig up the three of them and strip them naked, whaaat!
We thought we'd have a spot of lunch before disappearing forever into the Boboli gardens, so grabbed a focaccia or two at the cafeteria. We expected inflated prices, but we were unprepared for the unique experience of paying €6 for salmon focaccia and €6 for a 500ml Fanta. Maybe the Fanta was made out of gold and that's why it was orange - someone should put that sucker in the Museo degli Argenti!
We had visited the Giardino Boboli last time, so knew just where to look if we wanted to see a fat naked dwarf riding a turtle (always a useful skill – we might not remember basic mathematics, but we file the truly important information away securely):
We think the little dude got caught trying to ride away from the Buontalenti Grotto...
There’s another grotto in the main courtyard which isn’t quite as disgusting, but has some really sinister cherubs. We’d like to think we’d deeply mistrust the little bastards, even if Doctor Who hadn’t already prejudiced us against them.
Our ticket also gained us entry to Giardino Bardini, a garden we'd never heard of before. Turned out, to get to it, you have to exit the gardens, go past the Belvedere Fort, look for contradictory laminated signs that are confusing even by Italian standards, before ending up a few hundred metres down the road in front of an unassuming door. You do get to pass some rather nice street art, so that helps a bit with the swearing and cursing the planners.
Once the intrepid garden-lover has completed this trial, however, they find a large garden or rather, three - a formal garden featuring a late eighteenth century stairway...
...an Anglo-Chinese garden from the early nineteenth century, including a dragon canal...
... and a seventeenth century villa hanging out in 'farmland' that's growing Tuscan fruits. It probably is completely spectacular in season, since it was still doing okay in winter. It also has something going for it that the Boboli hasn't got a handle on - clear visitor information (once you find it), and interesting leaflet and good signage. It also has some very nice terraces and views. A+, Bardino Gardens (or a C, if we’re going on VELS ratings).
Heading back to the Boboli gardens, we found our way to the highest spot to see what we could see.
We also had a good, mature look at the fountain with Neptune hanging out in it and didn’t make any jokes about him having his bum cleaned.
We admired the avenues and layout of the gardens...
... but were devastated to learn the Museo delle Porcellane was shut! We were so looking forward to admiring porcelain from many of the most notable European porcelain factories, especially the several large dinner services by the Vincennes factory, not to mention a collection of small biscuit figurines. Woe, woe, woe is us! We considered flinging ourselves into the L'Isolotto, while Mooselini encouraged us...
...but thankfully (given the state of the water) were distracted by a couple of sets of peasant statues. Once upon 2004, they were delighted to meet us, and we forbore our Ophelia impression to renew old acquaintances. This was us in 2004:
We have matured enormously since then.
The problem was, once Stinky had Photoshop open, things got a little bit out of control.
Then Pye got a little punchy...
...and Mooselini might have got a bit combative, too.
Emotionally exhausted from that experience, still we could barely wait to see what else Florence had to throw at us. Turns out it was this:
Yeah, totes saw that coming. Just in case they were heralds of an invading army, we retreated up the tower of Palazzo Vecchio, where they have a thing for bars, and the view from the top is obscured by the wall. They have one viewing platform (on the important side), but if you want to see anything that’s not the Duomo, you have to go down a level. The tower’s only 221 steps high, so it was nothing compared to the other tower or the dome, but again it’s impossible to have a bad view of Florence.
When we were sure the coast was clear we came down and tried to go to the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, since it was closed the last time we were in town. We'd checked this time and it said it was open every day until at least 1pm. We arrived in the AM to be told that it was shut for Sunday, come back tomorrow. FINE, we probably wouldn't be allowed/able to read your old books anyway, we'll just lurk suspiciously in your courtyard, ha.
Speaking of looking suspicious, we really enjoy Florence’s signage, particularly the one that warns you to hold your boobs. Not everyone is impressed by this.
If we couldn't hang out with Lorenzo Medici's books, we thought we could at least go back and see his family's splendid Chapel of the Magi in the Palazzo Medici Riccardi. It's in a building that was a Medici palace (built in the fifteenth century) until they sold it to the Riccardi, who may or may not have baroque it. The inner courtyard isn’t baroque, it’s just pretty.
Mooselini was respectful in the chapel and even might have thought it was cool how back in 1459, the artist (Benozzo Gozzoli, sounds like a species of monkey) rendered the Medici's and their mates (and even some of their enemies) into the procession of the Magi. There were so few people visiting, that we might have even been able to sneakily do this from outside the chapel...
In summer you’d get seven minutes in there, but we had as long as we wanted. The security chick didn’t give a shit about anything any more, she just sat in a corner room and did her Sudoku. Eventually Mooselini made us leave, and he continued to the Baroque reception halls and rubbed his arse on a bunch of stuff.
Honestly, don't put a sign there if you don't want him to do it - it's called Oppositional Defiance Disorder. He liked the frescos in the gallery decorated by Luca Giordano...
...but quickly got into a dispute with some armed cherubs painted on a mirror and we had to act quickly to distract him with some other mirrors...
Thank goodness it worked, otherwise he would have got us kicked out before we had a chance to review the garden, courtyard, permanent exhibition (ancient marble busts), and at least three temporary exhibitions (of varying degrees of interest, but breathing life into the edifice). Still, we think Mooselini deserves a bit of this action:
The sun was still shining as it lowered in the sky, so we dashed down to the Arno to make the most of it.
Well-dressed Italians literally showing off their Sunday best clogged the footpaths and many of them were wearing fur. Mooselini was not in the least bit happy about this and swiftly located an ally. We left them plotting and left town so as to avoid any responsibility for what happened next.
