Paula's Tour Talk

Zeppole

I received a request for this recipe from a friend whose nona (grandmother) made them as a treat when she was growing up.  Zeppole are fried dough puffs, dusted with powdered sugar or dipped in honey. You might have seen them if you've ever been to an Italian neighborhood for a  St. Joseph's (San Giuseppe) day festival. They're a favorite among Italian-American families, many of whom originally came from the south of Italy like this recipe.

         

    Zeppole

1 teaspoon of active dry yeast
2 teaspoons sugar
3/4 cup warm water (about 110 degrees)
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
                1 teaspoon salt
                vegetable oil for frying
                confectioner's sugar

Put the water in a small bowl and sprinkle the yeast and sugar in and mix gently. Let stand until foaming, about 2-3 minutes. Stir until all yeast is fully dissolved.

In a large bowl, combine the flour and salt; add the yeast mixture; stir until all is well blended. Cover with a clean dish towel or plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place for 1 1/2 hours.

Line a tray with paper towels. Pour oil 2 inches deep in a large heavy saucepan and heat until a pinch of dough dropped into the oil sizzles and browns in one minute (370 degrees on a candy thermometer).

Scoop up a rounded tablespoon full of the dough and use a second spoon to slip the dough into the oil so it doesn't splash. Do a few at a time, do not crowd the pan. Cook until golden brown and puffed, about 3 minutes.

Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on the tray with paper towels. Fry up all the dough.

Dust generously with confectioner's sugar, or dip in honey, or chocolate sauce.

Enjoy immediately! Buon appetito!

Botticelli's Primavera: Part II

We'll leave Mercury (who some say wears the face of Medici art patron Lorenzo the Magnificent) and move all the way to the right side of the painting. On the left all is tranquil and everyone is captured in beautiful moment in time.

Not so on the right--here is drama and metamorphosis before our very eyes. The flying blue winged figure who grabs the fleeing, barely covered maiden is Zephyrus, the god of the west wind. (He's the same one you see in the Birth of Venus gently blowing her seashell ship to shore).
Zephyrus is the wind that brings warm, fragrant breezes to the Mediterranean countries in the spring. It is said that his 'breath' makes the flowers bloom. And if you look closely at the painting, you can see that only the trees in front of him are fruitful.

The ancient Roman poet, Ovid-- a favorite of Renaissance intellectuals, tells us the story we see depicted here. One day Zephyrus spied the nymph Chloris is a meadow and was struck by her beauty. Although she fled in terror from his advances, he ravished her (as they say) and then married her. Once married, Chloris was magically transformed into Flora, the goddess of the spring.

In Botticelli's painting, we see the very moment of her change. Notice how Chloris reaches out and touches Flora, seeming to almost melt into her. See the flowers spewing from her mouth becoming the flowers that decorate Flora's lovely dress. Flora, whose face has lost all traces of terror, calmly gathers the roses into a fold of her gown and prepares to toss them at the feet of Venus, who stands alone in the center. Naked Chloris becomes  an image of beauty and, most importantly, fertility in her new married self, whose name has changed to Flora.

Thus, a shy, terrified young maiden is transformed into a happy, fruitful wife. Remember, this painting was a wedding gift, most likely meant not only to delight but also to instruct the bride and groom on the joys of marriage.

There's so much more to talk about in the work (and there have been many books written about this one painting), and I'll have lots more to say when we're standing in front of this nearly life size masterpiece in the Uffizi in Florence.

For now, I want to end by pointing out the light blue halo that surrounds Venus. This, and her very virtuous dress and stance, creates a subtle link with the Virgin Mary. This Venus is the "good" Venus of holy love. The shape of the leaves in the 'halo' identifies them as myrtle, an evergreen plant that was sacred to Venus. Roman bridal couples wore wreaths of myrtle on their heads, as it represented desire, fertility, and everlasting marital love--all ideas that are so beautifully expressed in the elegant Primavera where marriage is seen as a garden of earthly delight, true love, and prosperity.

We'll be spending time with this and many other great paintings on the October 2008 Tastes of Tuscany Tour. There are still a few places left, but the deadline for signing up is approaching.

If you'd enjoy seeing the treasures of Florence, Pisa, and Siena, learning to prepare Tuscan specialties in a magnificent villa, and enjoying la dolce vita, don't delay. Full information at Time of Your Life Tours.

Video Interview

I recently did an interview with Zita Gustin on Billabong TV (an internet video channel) about Time of Your Life Tours. This was done live with no rehearsal and, well, it's a bit unsettling (no, horrifying) to see myself this way. Nonetheless, I had a great time making it and thought you all might enjoy seeing and learning more about me and the tours. Take a look and let me know what you think. Interview on Biz Talk with Zita: Part One and Part Two.  

Notes on Botticelli's Primavera: Part 1

Primavera (Spring) is one of Botticelli's best known and best loved paintings. Every day, crowds of people gape in awe at this lovely painting in the Uffizi Museum in Florence, but few understand its symbols or can read its story.

Let's start with Mercury, the one male figure, on the far left. We can recognize Mercury by his apparel, his action, and by how fitting it is that he should be present in this springtime scene.

Mercury wears winged sandals, a red toga with a pattern of flames, and he bears a sword and a caduceus. He is the Roman version of Hermes, the messenger god, the son of Maia (goddess of spring) and Zeus. Mercury, like Hermes, is always depicted in winged sandals to emphasize his swiftness as a messenger.

Handsome Mercury is the god of trade, profit and commerce--a perfect choice for this painting that was most likely commissioned for a Medici wedding. The Medici's were a wealthy banking family. The words commerce, merchant, and market all derive from his name. Mercury is also a god of abundance and plenty.

Another aspect of Mercury is that he is the intermediary between the four elements of air, earth, water, and fire(remember the flames on his robe?), and the phenomenon they produce--especially the weather. We see him here using his caduceus (the staff all messengers carried to signify their status and allow them free passage and protection wherever they traveled)to dissolve the lone cloud, so that no rain can mar this festive gathering.

Mercury's helmet and sword indicate his readiness to defend the fair maidens from any who might seek to harm them. His red garment and masculine build are signs of his sexual maturity and strength--clearly appreciated by the dancer in the middle of the circle who gazes directly at him. If you look at the top of the painting in the center, you can see blind-folded Cupid is about to shoot her with an arrow of love.

As the god of commerce and profit, Mercury is especially welcome in this scene. Notice the orange trees with their abundance of fruit in this painting. Oranges are a symbol of the wealthy Medici family, the most powerful family in Renaissance Florence. Not only is there a pun on their name--oranges were often referred to as malus medicus or medicinal apples--but the fruit resembles the balls on the Medici shield. If you look, you will often see oranges and orange trees in paintings from this time--that means the Medici family, who were great patrons of the arts, probably commissioned the work.

Look at the orange trees again. Notice that there are both blossoms and orange fruits present on the same branches.  The white flowers represent chastity and beauty, while the oranges are a symbol of fertility and plenty, fitting images for a painting that was most likely given as a wedding gift.

These are just a few of the many symbols and layers of meaning in this one small section of this beautiful painting. Next time, I'll write about some of the other figures and suggest a possible overall message. I hope you have enjoyed this brief glimpse into a masterpiece.

Reading Renaissance Paintings

Renaissance paintings tell stories. They are meant to be read. Each element--color, subject, background detail, and overall composition-- has meaning, often layers of overlapping meaning, as in a poem.

Renaissance men of learning delighted in discussing the paintings of the day and extracting every bit of meaning. They loved to argue about which lines of classical poetry an artist might have chosen to depict in paint, and how it related to current ideas.They liked to consider whether a painting's story was appropriate for its purpose. Perhaps it was commissioned as a wedding gift: did it contain a message for the bride or instruction for the groom?

In the fifteenth century, Lorenzo the Magnificent, the great Medici patron of art in Florence, often gathered his noble friends as well as artists, writers and scholars to discuss the works in his collection. (That's his portrait by Girolamo Macchietti.)

They loved finding clues to a painting's meaning in the details. It was like working out a puzzle. These Renaissance men could easily recognize the symbols embedded in a work of art. They were familiar with Christian saints and symbols as well as those from Classical Roman and Greek mythology. They knew the meanings associated with flowers, birds, and particular colors. They could quickly pick out new twists on the traditional that an artist had incorporated.

Today we are not so lucky. Often the various signs and symbols are meaningless to the modern viewer. What could be a rich experience is too often reduced to a child's level of: "I like it," or "I don't like it."

Of course, it can take years of study and dedication to fully grasp even some of the meanings in Renaissance art. But even a little study can offer rich rewards.

In the next couple of weeks I will be writing a series of articles about hidden meanings in the details of some of the most beloved Renaissance painting, starting with Botticelli's Primavera. You'll get a taste of the evening art talks I give on Time of Your Life Tours to Italy.

I know a lot of people will be traveling in Italy this summer and I'd like to offer this series to enhance their trips--so that the art they will see doesn't jumble together in a blur of Madonnas.

For more information check out Preparing for Your Trip and also A Few Notes of the Renaissance. You can also click on Italian art in the category cloud on the right to find all the previous articles about paintings and sculpture.

If you have a favorite work of Italian Renaissance art that you'd like to learn more about, please leave a comment and I'll include it.

(NOTE: although there is space for URLs and other information on the comment page, all you need to fill in to post a comment is your name (first name is fine) and an email address -to weed out spam. Your email address will NOT be published or filed anywhere).