A Visit to the Uffizi

Portrait of Giovanni de Medici by Agnolo Bronzino c. 1545. Hopefully the bird survived the sitting. This photo cannot do justice to the vivid colours, especially in contrast to the dour portraits in the rest of the room.

Last week I was given a lovely gift, L & I were invited to join an old friend in visiting the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. I've been a cultural Philistine for far too long (although I did visit the Accademia on my first trip and was surprisingly overwhelmed by the beauty of David), but it is easy to put things off when surrounded by such an abundance of art. 

After standing in a queue in order to join the queue to queue for tickets, we found out that our tickets were from an independent organisation and therefore all our queues were the wrong queues. Eventually we got in and, following a tip overheard from someone in the security area, decided to start at the top and work our way down.

I had no idea what to expect, or how I would react. This is the height of summer, the museum was full full full, with several group tours in several languages. So many people, in the heat of the day, and visiting a museum with someone for the first time (different people have different ways of going through galleries!) ... I told myself, I just want to see the Botticelli Venus with my own eyes, and some Leonardos. Anything else is a bonus. After a few collections of Xian religious art, we walked into the Botticelli room:

ravaj's-eye view from the midst of the crowd jostling for a photo (thus a bit askew)

It's such a hackneyed image and yet, when meeting her for real, there is something about this c. 535-year-old that got me. Yes, I was weepy. 

I had a good look. Then I took some pictures. Then I had another look. Then I had a fit of hypocrisy, and condemned everyone who used their moment with this, and other paintings, to take selfies, and photos of the painting. 

Actually looking with my eyes, rather than through a Smartphone, I saw things of which this photo might remind me, but doesn't actually show me:  the colours that I saw, and the emotions they provoked; or the one daisy on the robe being offered that sometimes looked part of the fabric and sometimes as alive as the petals being blown by the wind.

I should do that more often.

And also, hey, there's nothing wrong with having a bit of fun:

Medusa, o my! (thanks to Caravaggio & my beloved L)

It is possible that I had a timely reminder that seeing something through a camera lens and seeing it through the lenses of the eyes in my head are two different experiences, and sometimes I forget that a picture in my mind may be what I need rather than the apparently more permanent digital record.

Sigh.

After a couple of hours, we said goodbye to our lovely friends, who needed to go home, and left the crowds of the popular* rooms for the Uffizi Summer Exhibition:  The Colours of Judaism in Italy. While L luxuriated in the textiles, I searched for pomegranate shapes in the designs. 

We were the last to leave. What a great day. 

Thanks to Judy & Jessica.

* seated quietly amid rooms of Leonardos, Raphaels, Caravaggios, Titians, Tintorettos et al, there was one room seemingly less visited. It was full of paintings that I was introduced to by my parents, but they seemed to be less appreciated than the majestic heroes of Italian Art whose works fill the rest of the museum. It includes a couple of works by Albrecht Dürer, including the Virgin and the Pear; and this:

Adam & Eve by Lucas Cranach the Elder