Paula's Tour Talk

Venetian Tales

Venice has captured my soul. I can't imagine ever tiring of this mysterious, mesmerizing, thrilling city. Despite the crowds, despite the high prices, despite her problems and failings, I just can't get enough. I long to spend a year (or more) living in Venice, exploring her treasures, strolling her streets, crossing her bridges, and breathing her air.

And so, it's no surprise that I love reading about Venice. I brought two novels about Venice with me when Time of Your Life Tours visited my favorite city last month: The Floating Book and The Remedy. Both are by novelist and Venetophile Michelle Lovric, who was new to me. I was dazzled by her knowledge.

These novels are big, dense, rambling, and loaded with esoteric information. The Floating Book takes place in 15th century Venice, when she was at the height of her power and glory. Its main story is about Wendelin von Speyer, a real historical figure who brought the new technology of movable type from Germany to Venice and set up Italy's first printing press. It was an innovation fraught with risk and danger. The risk was partly financial, but the danger was deadly. The Church was extremely suspicious of this new-fangled invention and worried about the impact of a literate populace with access to books. More than one early printer was sentenced to death for printing works, particularly works by Classical Romans, that the Church deemed heretical.

Wendelin's business venture--a fascinating story--is the background for a series of interwoven stories. There's the story of his marriage to a lovely young Venetian, the story of the doomed affair of one of his editors and a Jewish prostitute and her love for a flamboyant scribe. But there's also the tale of the ancient Roman poet Catullus, whose love poetry has inflamed lovers' imaginations for centuries. Ultimately, Wendelin has to decide whether he will risk everything to print these poems.

The Remedy takes place in the decadent days of the 18th century, when Venice was no longer a world power, but a playground of vice and decay. It's the story of a Venetian daughter of the aristocracy imprisoned against her will in a convent, who escapes, and eventually becomes a spy for the Republic,  disguised as an actress. Her lover is a Londoner who reigns in the underworld of both cities as a king of patent medicines. Their story is one of betrayal, intrigue, loss, and redemption against the backdrop of two great cities. It's a tale, that like Venice herself, combines the Byzantine and the Gothic, full of mystery and marvels.

Neither of these novels is a quick or light read, but the rewards are many. Reading these books while in Venice, I felt like I was swimming through history, getting a privileged glimpse of my favorite city.  If you have a taste for the unusual and a literary bent, I think you will enjoy these books even if you are not lucky enough to be in Venice.  I loved learning about the history of printing, about convent life, about bizarre remedies touted by quacks, about glass-making, the theatre, and so much more as I was engrossed in labyrinthine tales of love. I was happy to discover that Lovric wrote a third Venetian novel called Carnevale. I'll be reading it soon.

Caravaggio's Bacchus

I was looking through the art postcards I picked up last month in Italy and I came across the enigmatic figure of the Roman god Bacchus in Caravaggio's famous painting.( As always, click on the picture for a larger view). It struck me as fitting subject for this time of year, a scene of abundance and plenty. Then I took a closer look, and began to do some in-depth research.

Caravaggio is the prototype wild child artist. He lived a brief life of chaos and excess--drinking, whoring and brawling--when he wasn't painting masterpieces that revolutionized Western art, that is. Bacchus is an early work that Caravaggio completed when he was only 25 years old. This is a chalk portrait of the artist drawn by Ottavio Leoni. (He does have an air of debauchery, don't you think?)

Bacchus portrays the ancient god in the form of a half-drunk teenager with a muscular build and chubby cheeks. He wears a crown of grape leaves and fruit, and is draped in a less than immaculate white sheet. He leans against a tall bolster and seems to offer the viewer a very full glass of deep red wine in a fragile goblet that he holds in a precarious grip. It seems that the over-balanced glass will topple out of his hand if not grabbed right away. Bacchus plays with the tie on his gown with his other hand, while gazing directly into the viewer's eyes with just a hint of suggestion.

More has been written about the bowl of fruit--overripe and nearly rotting-- and the carafe of wine in this painting than any other aspect. Some critics find the fruit to be a symbol of the transience of life on earth and a reminder that death comes to all living things. Others, and I agree, find the mushy brown fruit to be a sign of the general decadence of the scene. It's not an inviting image. You don't long to join the inebriated young man at his banquet.

The carafe in the left corner of the painting has generated a lot of excitement because after a thorough cleaning, a tiny portrait of the artist was discovered in the reflection on the glass.

Caravaggio was wildly popular in his time and is enjoying great vogue again today. His work upset the conventions of the Mannerist painters and introduced a radical naturalism. His figures are not prettified or idealized in any way. His subjects are often captured in a moment of extreme emotion. And, he was a master of dramatic lighting.

You can learn more about this influential bad boy of the 16th century in Francine Prose's slim volume titled Caravaggio, Painter of Miracles.

Da Vinci Codes II and III

Although I found Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code rather amusing, it hardly changed the way I view Leonardo's fading masterpiece, The Last Supper. I can't say the same of Spanish author, Javier Sierra's fascinating novel, The Secret Supper, and recent articles about an Italian musician's new book about finding a short musical composition encoded in the painting.

Sierra's book, which has been a bestseller in 35 countries, is a great read. It's the story of a Papal Inquisitor sent to Milan to discover whether or not the mysterious missives of a religious fanatic who signs himself "the Soothsayer" are true. These cryptic notes accuse Leonardo Da Vinci of putting hidden heretical, even blasphemous, messages in his Last Supper. The action takes place as Da Vinci is finishing the work. 

The Secret Supper (there's a link under Books on the left of this page) is a work of intrigue, murder, politics and conspiracies, filled with suspense and plot twists, set in the final years of the 15th century. The reader learns a great deal about about Milan, the Cathar heresy, Church politics, monastic life, and, of course, Leonardo Da Vinci and his art.

Sierra provides the necessary keys to unlock the possible secret meanings encoded in the painting (including two carefully labeled reproductions of the painting) and a surprisingly satisfying conclusion. I think it's a far better book than Dan Brown's and well worth reading. I know I will never look at this most famous fresco in quite the same way again. It's also made me want to do some in-depth study of the work myself.

More recently, last Friday in fact, a new hypothesis about a secret hidden in the Last Supper was published by the Italian musician Giovanni Maria Pala. His book has not yet been translated, but you can read about his idea that the score for a short, solemn musical composition can be found in the painting. Experts are saying that his theory is "plausible."  Read more at Italian Musician Uncovers Hidden Music in this article from the Herald Tribune.

Finally, you might also enjoy taking a look at the official site for the painting housed in the Church and convent of Santa Maria della Grazie in Milan: the Cenacolo (Cenacolo is the Italian term for all Last Supper paintings).

Remember if you want to see the work when you are in Milan, you must have prior reservations. I'm working on a northern Italy tour for next year that will definitely include a visit on the itinerary.

Good news! My bag finally did arrive home from Italy completely intact. I am so happy to have my travel clothes, and especially all the books I bought on this last tour. Thanks to those who sent their good wishes...

 

Unraveling the Medicis

When you are in Florence, the Medici family is everywhere you look. Their family emblem crowns hundreds of buildings;their palaces, gardens, family churches, chapels even crypts are museums. Many of the masterpieces of the Renaissance exist because of their patronage. The name "Medici" is a song that Florence sings, and knowing a bit about them is useful for the traveler.

But it can be confusing trying to sort out just who's who in the family that virtually ruled Florence, and much of Italy, for nearly 400 years. The Medici dynasty also included three popes and many cardinals. Plus, through strategic intermarriage, Medicis were part of the royal families of France and England.

The first thing to know is that the Medici wealth--at various times they were the wealthiest family in Europe--came from banking. In a time of political instability, the reliability of Medici banking institutions was legendary.  They lent money to kings for their wars, to nobles for their debts, to merchants for their inventories. Their accountants developed the modern double-entry bookkeeping system for tracking credits and debits. The florin, the coin they minted, was accepted as currency everywhere.

The second thing to keep in mind about the Medicis is that, although they pretty much ran things in Florence, no Medici held an official position until 1537 when Alessandro was made the first Duke of Florence. The early Medicis like Cosimo the Elder and Lorenzo the Magnificent held power in that nothing happened in the city or its territories without their approval. These men "ruled" by virtue of their wealth and influence, through their lavish spending on public buildings, public festivals, charity, and, of course, through their patronage of the greatest artists of the day.

The third thing to know is that two different branches of the family were in power at different times. Giovanni de Bicci  di Medici was the patriarch of the family in the early 1400's, and it was he who created the Medici bank. The senior branch of the family is descended from his oldest son, Cosimo the Elder, and includes the illustrious Lorenzo the Magnificent.

The junior branch came to power when Alessandro the first Duke of Florence was assassinated by his male lover (who was also his cousin) in 1537. This branch was descended from old Giovanni's younger son, confusingly known as Lorenzo the Elder (he was, of course, Lorenzo the Magnificent's elder relative). It was this Lorenzo's great-great grandson, Cosimo I who began a dynasty that included both Catherine and Marie de Medici.

I told you it was confusing! The history of the Medicis is a fascinating one, full of intrigue, plots, rebellions, jealousies, and triumphs. There are many books you can read, and my favorite is Christopher Hibbert's The House of Medici. (see link on the left).

But, perhaps even more enjoyable is the PBS program called The Medici: Godfathers of the Renaissance. This is a four-hour series that is well-worth your time. It's widely available in libraries and video outlets like Netflix.

Here's a link to the PBS website for the program that includes all kinds of fun features including an interactive tour of Florence and a Renaissance art gallery: The Medici.

Check it out and let me know what you think.

Meanwhile, I am still hoping my luggage makes it home from Italy--it's full of books and gifts, as well as nearly all my underwear.