Hotel Archaeology

Quebec City has one of the most picturesque historic centers that I have ever visited in North America. There is something incredibly charming about all the flagstone facades, the cobblestone streets, the dated historic buildings, the division of upper and lower cities each with their own interesting sights, and the inherently French provincial vibe that the old town exudes. AA, his cousin GDA, and I just returned from a brief visit there (after a couple of days in Montreal). The temperature was unseasonably, frigidly cold, and there was about a foot of snow on the ground with flurries continuing our entire visit. You can see below the picture of AA and me outside the Chateau Frontenac (now a Fairmount Hotel) and witness our winter-like experience! But the overall icy-cold experience helped open up the holiday season for me, so it was all worth it.

Even more intriguing was the hotel where we stayed this time: Auberge Saint-Antoine. This was an incredibly relaxing, luxurious hotel/spa experience; when you leave for the evening for dinner, you come back to your room and discover turn-down service, herbal tea, subdued lighting, and a CD with Diana Krall singing soft jazz. What fascinated me about the hotel most, however, was how they incorporated archaeological artifacts as part of the decor and history of the site. The hotel was originally a fort and merchant house in the 17th century, and over time the grounds and buildings changed. When the hotel underwent renovations about 15 years ago, they excavated hundreds of cultural artifacts, like fragments of ceramic dishes, glassware, knives and forks, leather shoes, cannonballs, pipes, ... the list goes on and on. All of the artifacts have been beautifully displayed in vitrines embedded in the walls (as you in the above image). Even the rooms are themed and named around a particular ceramic fragment. Most of the artifacts date from the late 18th/early 19th centuries, but it is fascinating to discover some objects dating back to the late 1600s.

The personal service, the comfortable room, the delicious food and cocktails, and the archaeology-as-decor all make for a wonderful experience in one of the most picturesque cities I know. I look forward to another visit in the near future!

Cities of 2016

Following up on last year's list of cities, here is the 2016 list. When I think back on the cities AA and I visited (or that I traveled to solo mostly for work-related reasons), the highlight of the year was related to the picture you see here. AA took this of me at the top of the Pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacan, northeast of Mexico City. The temple was constructed over 1500 years ago and although one assumes it is related to the Aztecs, in fact it was constructed nearly a thousand years before the Aztecs rose to power. The views from the top at over 240 feet high were breathtaking. The height wasn't what made the climb so daunting; it was the steps that were treacherous and steep, with all these people clutching onto a rope ahead of you. If one person dropped, you knew in a moment all of you would be tumbling down the pyramid like a set of dominoes. I'm not exactly the most physical-fitness-oriented individual, so having reached the top was quite a challenge and it was a great personal triumph. Our long weekend trip to Mexico City over Memorial Day was really fantastic; I look forward to a return trip and to see other areas of Mexico.

The other vacation highlight of the year was our trip to Amsterdam and Copenhagen over Thanksgiving. These were two cities I had never been to before. I loved Amsterdam; the picture here is a selfie of us with one of the canals behind us. I have been jokingly referring to Amsterdam as Brooklyn with canals and 17th-century "brownstones." It's a very laid-back city, easy to get around, and everyone speaks English. The scent of marijuana floats through the air in different sections of the city, coming from the numerous coffee houses, so you can't help but be relaxed. It will be great to go back one Spring in the near future to see the tulips and windmills in other areas of the Netherlands. Copenhagen, in contrast, was quite posh (and expensive!), with one Neoclassical palazzo after another lining the streets. The New Harbor area is absolutely charming, and there is a great new food market and rising arts scene too. There was construction taking place everywhere in the city while we were there, which was frustrating, but on the positive side of things the Christmas markets were open and I drank a lot of gløgg, which was delectable in the chilly weather.

Here's the list of the cities outside the NYC area I was fortunate to visit in 2016...

Amsterdam, The Netherlands
Charlotte, North Carolina
Copenhagen, Denmark
Leeuwarden, The Netherlands
Liverpool, England
London, England (2 visits)
Mexico City, Mexico
New Haven, Connecticut
Ogunquit, Maine
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Portland, Maine (2 visits)
Provincetown, Massachusetts

St. Petersburg/Palm Harbor, Florida (3 times to see family & friends!)
West Palm Beach, Florida

Happy 8th Birthday!

I'm writing my annual bklynbiblio birthday post from Provincetown, MA, which is rather appropriate considering that I started this blog 8 years ago today after returning from Provincetown. Among the posts in that first month were a recap of that trip (including a review of a play JM and I saw), a review of the book & then-forthcoming movie about Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and highlights of upcoming Fall exhibitions in NYC (reviews of which subsequently appeared in the months afterward: Ernst Kirchner; Catherine Opie; and Gilbert & George). What amazes me when I look back on those early days and posts is how much more time I apparently had free to write! At least there is an archive, because I admit I sometimes forget that I ever wrote about certain exhibitions, books, films, plays, etc.

And so here we are again, 8 years later, in Provincetown. The photo above was taken by me this very afternoon from the pool area at Wave Bar at the Crown & Anchor, looking out toward Cape Cod Bay. It has been gorgeous since we arrived...in fact, a little too hot--I had high hopes it would be a bit cooler! But it is beautiful and relaxing, and that's why we are here.

Commemorating 8 years of bklynbiblio, we discover that this post is #544, and in tracking my most popular tags it comes as no surprise that things have not changed at all for the past few years, reinforcing the focus of this blog. "New York" still comes in at #1 (146 posts), followed by "19th-century art" (100), "England" (90), "photography" (88), and "art exhibitions" (77). So thank you to all my friends and colleagues who have continued to follow me for 8 productive years now. Your ongoing emails of support do encourage me to keep on blogging...

Cities of 2015

Last year I wrote a blog post highlighting all the travel I did in 2014, but this time I am just doing a recap of the cities I visited over the course of the year. I realize on some level this may seem like I'm bragging about my travels, but this blog has involved me writing about my travels since the very beginning, so consider this an encapsulated list rather than an extended post on places I have been. One reason I decided to do this is because 2015 has turned out to be rather exceptional in terms of travel, with more than half of these cities related to my job and career (conferences, talks, courier trips, etc.). The rest was vacation or family visits. The picture you see here is of AA and me on the wall of San Gimignano with the rolling hills of Tuscany behind us. God, what a beautiful day it was and what a beautiful memory it is. Even though I have visited almost all of these cities before (some many times), three were first-time visits (Monteriggione, Beacon, and Kansas City). When I visit these cities, I always strive to visit museums or galleries to see exhibitions or permanent collections, all as part of expanding my knowledge-base on artists, art works, movements, styles, and the materiality of art. I frequently like to go back to museums I've seen before to see old favorites and what may have changed. Every one of these trips, then, becomes a learning experience. But perhaps the most important reason why I am posting this list is because I realize how fortunate I am to have had the opportunity to visit these places and to engage with cultures, no matter how similar or different they are from my own. For me, life is about experiences and encounters, and travel helps make that happen. Here is the list, in the order in which I visited them.

• Munich, Germany
• St. Petersburg/Palm Harbor, Florida (March visit)
• Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (April visit)
• Cattolica, Italy
• Venice, Italy
• Rome, Italy
• Florence, Italy
• San Gimignano/Siena/Monteriggione (day trip through Tuscany)
• Milan, Italy
• St. Petersburg/Palm Harbor, Florida (May visit)
• Liverpool, England
• Southport, England
• London, England
• Oxford, England
• Washington, DC
• Provincetown, Massachusetts
• St. Petersburg/Palm Harbor, Florida (August visit)
• San Francisco, California
• Beacon, New York
• Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
• Boston, Massachusetts
• Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (November visit)
• Kansas City, Missouri

San Francisco 2015

I'm writing this blog post from my hotel room in San Francisco. I arrived today and will be here just for a brief couple of days. This is work-related. We have a painting at Columbia that will be on loan to the de Young Museum for its upcoming exhibition Jewel City: Art from San Francisco's Panama-Pacific International Exposition. I am here to oversee installation and make sure our painting (a gorgeous 1913 landscape by Arthur Wesley Dow), which traveled cross-country, made the trip in good condition. Our painting was in the Expo in 1915, a century ago (I will likely share that work soon, so stay tuned). The picture you see above is the Palace of Fine Arts, built for the Expo, and the work is by Edwin Deakin, showing rather Impressionistically one of the main buildings and the lagoon. I was able to visit this area, along with doing so many other things, when I was Frisco-bound two years ago on vacation here. Indeed, I must say, thanks to AA we saw so much on that trip that I think I have seen all the primary highlights here, including the de Young and the Asian Art museums, rode the cable car and a trolley, saw the Redwood forest in Muir Woods. drove across the Golden Gate Bridge, even took a ferry to Sausalito, and went to Napa and Sonoma overnight for wine-tasting trips. It was a great visit, thanks almost entirely to AA. So this afternoon as I wandered around a bit, I was quickly reminded of a few things, and how insanely crazy the hills are! It was great to have another peak at the Golden Gate Bridge in fog and see the Bay. Time to think about dinner though...

Chicago-bound

Last summer when I went on vacation to San Francisco, I had managed to cross of my list one of the two major U.S. cities that I had been wanting to visit in my lifetime. This week I get to cross of the second one: Chicago! AA & I will be traversing his former stomping grounds and favorite hot spots and meeting up with his friends. I told him the Art Institute of Chicago is on my list and everything else is up for grabs. He's planned dinner at Frontera Grill for one night, and we are going on the Chicago Architecture Foundation River Cruise another day. And of course...fireworks for 4th of July over Lake Michigan! I'm really excited, in case you couldn't tell. I'm sure I'll have more to report sometime after I return... Happy Independence Day!

Fire Island Redux

I didn’t think I would be writing about my Fire Island trip, but I couldn't resist. JM, JB, BS, and I met at the Long Island Rail Road ticket area at Penn Station early Friday morning. After 2 trains ($21 round trip), 1 shuttle van ($5 one way), and 1 ferry ride ($14 round trip), we arrived at Cherry Grove about 12:30pm. My initial thought was that it seemed like a lot of traveling in order to get to Fire Island (don’t forget I had a subway trip too), but in fact we were there in 3 hours, which actually isn’t that bad. However, I have to admit, upon arrival I was a little disappointed. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but Cherry Grove was not it. The place is like a tiny fishing village with what seemed like 1 store, 1 restaurant, and 1 bar. Remote doesn’t even been to describe it. The picture you see here (by Andrew Collins on the About.com's Gay & Lesbian Travel site) makes it seem bigger than it is, but in fact what you see is pretty much what you get. The stroll down Bayview Walk toward the guest house was interesting. The entire area is built on raised wood-plank boardwalks, and you pass one private cottage after another, many surrounded by overgrown wheat stalks and other flora, all of which are typically rented out to seasonal visitors at thousands of dollars per week. And then we got to the Belvedere.

You’ll recall that my initial impressions from their website fluctuated between curious excitement and appalling dismay. All I can say is that the website was 100% more inviting than the place itself. How someone ever could vote it “the best gay male resort in the country” (note they are quoting from an anonymous comment posted on Trip Advisor in 2007) clearly shows one has not traveled much. The entire complex defines ostentatious eccentricity. The original owner, John Eberhardt, had been a set painter, so it should come as no surprise that the entire place looks like a theater set stage. As a result nothing has any value. Everywhere there is faux marble, and the sculpture throughout the place is plaster, staff, and plastic resin. Worse yet, all of it is quite literally falling apart. Even the faux Apollo Belvedere by the pool looks like it’s about to lose its arm and testicles. The fresco work throughout is meant to conjure Italy; instead it looks like paint-by-number cardboard. With all due respect to Mr. Eberhardt, this is queer eccentricity to the Nth degree. It is one man’s dreamworld with nothing to show for it but a poor sense of copywork in appreciating the beauty of Venice and Baroque ornamentation. It’s as if Miss Havisham from Great Expectations should have been living here. The analogy isn't far-fetched: there's even a closet-like chapel with an altar, a crucifix, and a wooden box with the cremated ashes of Eberhardt inside.

Each room has its own style too. Four of us were squeezed into a postage stamp-sized room that had as its theme "Southern plantation porch." One wall was made to look like the outside of a house (including a faux window), another wall was covered with a frighteningly blurry forest scene, and the remaining walls were upholstered in ca. 1982 Laura Ashley rose-patterned fabric, with matching pink and green sheets on the beds to match. There was no air conditioning in the room, and the guest house didn’t even offer you a freakin' cup of coffee! Did I mention they charged us $500 a night for this place?

Now, keep in mind that part of the problem is that there are only 3 hotels in Cherry Grove (I told you this place was deserted), and word has it that the other places were worse, although the 4 of us are in agreement we were robbed. In the Belvedere's defense, the pool and hot tub area are nice, the rooms are actually clean, and the staff seems friendly. The place is on the bay, so we spent time just relaxing in lounge chairs on the water. In the evening, the corridors were dimly lit with chandeliers and sea breezes blew white diaphanous drapes into the air, creating a theatrical sense of Gothic Romanticism that I have to admit charmed me. And lest you think this is an experience open to all, I should point out that this was a gay men’s guest house, clothing is optional and...well, l’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

As our first day progressed (and I drank more vodka-cranberry cocktails), I have to say that Cherry Grove grew on me. We ate breakfasts and lunches at Floyd’s, which had great, if expensive, fresh-tasting food, and we ate dinner one night at Island Breeze, JM and I indulging in a delectable fig-and-gorgonzola salad followed by chicken rollantini with mashed potatoes and broccoli rabe that was delicious. On a beautiful Saturday morning we walked out to the beach, lay in the sand, and frolicked in the Atlantic. That afternoon we took the water taxi over to The Pines, where my friends DC and DG were having their party. They had rented with friends of theirs a large cottage that had a pool and was no more than 50 steps away from the beach. When we arrived in The Pines, I realized suddenly that THIS was what I expected Fire Island would be like, something akin to Provincetown or Key West, but with less of a city feel. Cherry Grove, in contrast, has more of a lesbian crowd, and it’s more secluded as compared to The Pines, which is dominated by hunky gay men and loud dance music.

After all is said and done, I had a fun weekend with my friends. It’s a bit exhausting getting out there with all the traveling involved, but it is actually worth it if you’re looking for a great place to chill out for a while. The trick to enjoying Fire Island is to rent a cottage with good friends, stay for a week, and have a house party or two. In the process do nothing but relax, get some sun, and swim in the water, but don't forget to socialize a bit where the boys are.

Fire Island 2010

Summers for the gay male population in NYC and the surrounding area usually means vacations to either Provincetown or Fire Island. bklynbiblio readers know about my 2008 and 2009 trips to P-town, located at the tip of Cape Cod in Massachusetts. This year I decided to go with JM and his friends to Fire Island, a barrier island off the coast of Long Island. You can see a map of the area here. Apparently we have to take a train, a shuttle, and a ferry to get there, but supposedly we'll be there in less than 3 hours. My friends DC & DG will be there too celebrating DC's 40th birthday with a big party at their rented cottage on Saturday. I'm a Fire Island virgin, so I'm pretty excited about going (just do a Google Image search and you'll quickly see why). I've been so busy the past few weeks though, I haven't even asked until the other day where we were staying, and only now just looked it up on the Web: the Belvedere Guest House for Men. I don't know if I was more startled by the Venetian-style villa and its Baroque ornamentation, the faux Apollo Belvedere, or the accompanying soundtrack from one of my favorite pieces of music, the opening segment to "Bittersweet Symphony" by The Verve. Now I understand why it seemed so darn expensive! We're only going for 2 nights, so it will be a quick trip, but it should be lots of fun. Don't expect much of a report back, though; assume it's going to be a weekend of hedonistic bliss.

Provincetown 2009

Among the very first posts on bklynbiblio were messages about my trip to Provincetown, Massachusetts last year (including a recap of the trip, a review of the play 2 Boys in a Bed on a Cold Winter’s Night, and an exhibition review on the work of Nick Patten). I was back in Provincetown this past week, this time with my friends JM, AR, and RT. We rented a 2nd-floor condo that can be described as “antiquated” and “rustic,” but in reality should be described as “old” and “in need of redecorating.” We couldn’t complain though, because the view of the bay from our terrace was awesome (see my picture above). We even had our own semi-private beach. Provincetown hasn’t changed at all though. It’s still filled with families of tourists, many of whom try hard not to stare at the predominant gay and lesbian couples and friends strolling, dining, and shopping, and at the outrageous drag queens like Hedda Lettuce sauntering down Commercial Street advertising their shows at the bars and theaters. Provincetown is a celebrity hangout too. Our encounters ranged from simply pointing out a few, to having dinner and dancing with one in particular. This year's celebrities included gay filmmaker John Waters, gay socio-cultural pundit Andrew Sullivan, and photographer Amy Arbus. Fashion designer Marc Jacobs got married to Lorenzo Martone while we were there, but somehow we missed them completely, which actually is surprising because it’s not that big of a town.

Shopping was naturally a highlight of our trip. I got my Happy Dog t-shirt in powder blue and orange at Coffey Men (check out more of Scott Coffey’s designs on his blog http://coffeymen.blogspot.com/). Gallery hopping also was on the agenda. We paid a visit to places like The Schoolhouse Gallery where Amy Arbus was part of a group exhibition. The work on display was from her latest series, The Fourth Wall, which relates to theater actors in costume appearing in settings off-stage. David Sokosh, who works with modern-day tintypes, had a show with some interesting images at the Esmond-Wright Gallery. And AR almost bought a picture by Robert Cardinal, whose work conjures the spirit of the Provincetown coast using abstracted forms with bold colors.

JM and RT spoiled us with their superb cooking, but we also ate out a few times. To celebrate AR’s birthday we went to The Mews (the salmon was delectable), but otherwise we found ourselves frequently at Cafe Heaven for dinners and brunch. Of course, there seemed to be a neverending imbibing of spirits in our condo (e.g. Ketel One and cranberry cocktails), and we danced our asses off every day, sometimes at tea dance at The Boatslip, other times boogieing until 1am at the Atlantic House, followed by the obligatory congregating of everyone at Spiritus for pizza. The best dance songs of the summer included remixes of Madonna’s new single “Celebration” and Lady GaGa’s “Poker Face,” but the two most popular were “Hush Hush” by The Pussycat Dolls and “When Love Takes Over" by David Guetta and Kelly Rowland. You can check out a video of this last song below courtesy of YouTube, but first, check out this picture...don’t we look ultimately fabulous just hanging out on our terrace?

Niagara Falls

For those who don’t travel regularly, you may not know this, but crossing international borders isn’t as easy as it used to be. Even the Canadian border patrol was surprisingly annoying. You must have a passport now to enter Canada, and when you do they ask you so many questions: where you’re staying, what you do for a living, whether you brought cigarettes into the country, whether you ever drove a pick-up truck, how often you ate asparagus...things like that. Once we were in, we decided we weren’t moving the car again, so SVH and I never saw Niagara Falls from the NY side. We certainly didn’t miss it, however, because the view from the Canadian side is spectacular. We checked into the Radisson, and were we ever shocked to discover our "room with a view" really had a view! The picture you see above was what we saw from the window of our room: Horseshoe Falls in all its glory, with mist shooting into the heavens. It was like having our own neverending movie of the falls playing in our room at all times.

We stayed in what I would consider to be the more chic side of Niagara Falls, Ontario. There is every chain restaurant imaginable in the area, but the hotels are all newer with some dynamic post-modern architectural features. If you’ve ever heard that the Canadian side is kitschy, that’s the area further north called Clifton Hill. There you will find cheaper hotels, arcades, movie plexes, Ripley's Believe It or Not, etc. In other words, it’s geared toward families and children. Needless to say, we immediately left that area and returned to our end of the strip. The park overlooking the falls is well manicured and adorned with flower beds and hanging baskets. At one point I couldn’t help but feel like the entire area was a pavilion at Walt Disney World, “Niagaraland” or something, it’s so pristine, and the falls so miraculous they look almost artificial. (What does that say when a natural wonder looks like it's artificial instead of the other way around?) As for the waterfalls themselves, well they are absolutely breathtaking. I can truly say that they are one of the greatest sites in the natural world that I have ever seen.

One of my favorite moments was when I woke up early and ran outside to watch the sunrise over the falls. The sun was just peeking over the horizon but barely breaking through the mist and clouds. I took pictures (one of which you see below) as it slowly rose and glowed through the ether. I looked out at the river and watched the ferocity of the water rush toward the falls. It makes a rushing noise, a sound that can only be described as the terrifying pushing roar heading toward its destiny. With an energetic burst the water poured over its cliff, and foam and mist spewed upward reaching high into the sky. Through all of this the sun continued to poke its way, creating tongues of pink and purple reaching out to lick the soft blue sky. The gold-red light made an aureole, illuminating the mist like a vortex carved through steam. It was like something J.M.W. Turner would have painted. Somewhere in the midst of all this, I had seen out of the corner of my eye a woman sit on a rock nearby, but I was so intent on watching nature I didn’t pay her much attention. My eyes were tearing, from the rays of the sun, but also from the beauty of the moment. I was struck by the grandeur of the scene, the commingling of sun, sky, water, earth, and ether. It was then that it struck me, that if ever one were to doubt the existence of God, this was all the proof they would need to believe. I heard a sigh of joy beside me, and as I turned my head I realized the woman was a nun in a white dress and black habit. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. I almost said something to her, but she was so intent on the scene that I returned my gaze as well. Finally, the sun burst through the mist, but we remained quiet. Our amazed silence said it all.

Lake Canandaigua

SVH knew exactly what I needed: relaxation. Our trip, first to Lake Canandaigua and then Niagara Falls, was as near to a perfectly restful holiday as I have ever had. She planned everything, from reservations to driving directions, so that when we landed, I didn’t even know the name of the lake we were heading toward. I cannot thank her enough for that. We drove around looking at all forms of nature, and we saw everything from domesticated alpaca to Amish girls riding downhill on bicycles while holding onto their bonnets blowing in the wind. We ate brunch one morning at a lovely restaurant on Main Street called Simply Crepes, and stayed at the swanky Miami Motel, a 1950s-style motor inn that the owners are renovating (alas, the jacuzzi rooms were booked already). I was amazed that there was hardly anyone at the lake (then again, my threshold of comparison to the number of people in NYC means that anything more than five feet between me and the next person is the equivalent of a mile). Lake Canandaigua (here's a map) is large in length and skinny in width. One of the group of elongated Finger Lakes in upstate New York, it is simply placid and beautiful. The picture I took above shows you the mountains around the lake and how tranquil the water is, providing everyone with opportunities for boating, fishing, and swimming.

We also took a day trip to Sonnenberg Gardens & Mansion, the c.1890 summer home of Frederick Ferris Thompson and his wife Mary Clark Thompson. He was a director of a bank that eventually became Citibank, and she was a socialite who traveled the world. Their Queen Anne-style home is decorated in the eclectic Aesthetic style popular at that time, incorporating everything from beautiful Asian ceramics and Native American basketry to ever-disturbing taxidermied birds (including not just one but two requisite stuffed peacocks). The numerous gardens are lovely, including a formal Italian garden and a Japanese garden with a tea house. The house eventually became a hostel for employees of a nearby hospital, and the pictures in the house showing nurses in the 1940s and 1950s wearing bathing caps and modeling with the ancient statuary were a hoot to look at.

But of course we traveled to the Finger Lakes specifically for the wedding of my dear friends DG and RL, fellow Brooklynites. The bride’s family lives around Rochester, which is why the wedding was upstate. The ceremony and reception was at Bristol Harbor, a rustic lodge and country club that overlooks the lake from the hills above. Their ceremony was simple yet elegant. They wrote it themselves, respecting the faiths of both families, but focusing foremost on their own personal beliefs. I was honored to be asked by them to do a reading during the ceremony. They wanted me to find one myself. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want the typical love stuff or rehash the same old sentiments. I wanted to find something that was special for my friends, yet could transcend the idea of a wedding so that it had a message for all. Finally, I found it, and when I showed it to them, they agreed that they loved it. The reading is called “Unlimited Friendship,” by The Buddha. I’ve transcribed the passage below, but first take a look at this great picture of us from the reception. Don’t we look fabulous?

UNLIMITED FRIENDSHIP
by The Buddha
Translated by Edward Conze
From Into the Garden: A Wedding Anthology, edited by Robert Haas & Stephen Mitchell

This is what should be done by the man and woman who are wise, who seek the good, and who know the meaning of the place of peace.
Let them be fervent, upright, and sincere, without conceit of self, easily contented and joyous, free of cares; let them not be submerged by the things of the world; let them not take upon themselves the burden of worldly goods; let their senses be controlled; let them be wise but not puffed up, and let them not desire great possessions even for their families. Let them do nothing that is mean or that the wise would reprove.
May all beings be happy and at their ease. May they be joyous and live in safety.
All beings, whether weak or strong--omitting none--in high, middle, or low realms of existence, small or great, visible or invisible, near or far away, born or to be born; may all beings be happy and at their ease.
Let none deceive another, or despise any being in any state. Let none by anger or ill-will wish harm to another.
Even as a mother watches over and protects her only child, so with a boundless mind should one cherish all living beings, radiating friendliness over the entire world, above, below, and all around without limit. So let them cultivate a boundless good will toward the entire world, unlimited, free from ill-will or enmity.
Standing or walking, sitting or lying down, during all their waking hours, let them establish this mindfulness of good will, which is the highest state.

Lakes and Falls

The picture you see here is the 1857 painting Niagara by the American artist Frederic Edwin Church, a work owned by the Corcoran Gallery of Art. Church made an international career for himself in the 19th century by painting large-scale scenes of the American landscape. He was part of the so-called Hudson River school. His pictures capture the wild essence of nature in all its pristine and sublime beauty. This painting of Niagara Falls is no exception. You can hear the roar of the water, feel the chill dank atmosphere of the dark sky, but then wonder at the sunlight that shines through and illuminates the foam of the rushing water. I wonder if my experience will be as captivating. SVH and I are on our way to Canandaigua Lake, part of the Finger Lakes in upstate New York, for the DG-RL wedding, and then she and I are going on our own "honeymoon" to Niagara Falls. I'm really looking forward to relaxing and embracing nature--and good friends--for a few days.

London 2009 - Part 3

I saw this magnet in the gift shop at Buckingham Palace and I decided I had to add it to the collection on my refrigerator. Admittedly, at £3.95 it was a bit expensive, but I figured, what the hell, this Queen is worth it! (I’m talking about Elizabeth II, of course.)

So speaking of Buckingham Palace, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the State Rooms were open for visits. They only do this for two months of the year, late July until late September, and only started it a few years ago to help pay for restoration work at Windsor Castle after the fire there in 1992. Buckingham Palace only became an official royal residence in the early 1800s under George IV, but since then it has served as the primary residence of the monarch. It underwent a major expansion during Victoria’s reign to accommodate her growing family. Today it is Elizabeth II’s primary residence and the site for all official state receptions and events. The student rate of £15 was a hefty price to get in, but I am glad I did it. As you move from room to room with your audio headset guide, you’re led through some of the most stunning architectural spaces, most designed by John Nash in an ornately Neoclassical style. There are elaborately decorated plaster ceilings, columns covered in faux lapis lazuli, and gilding everywhere. It is truly an impressive experience. Even the throne room is set up like a stage, with Elizabeth’s and Philip’s chairs embroidered with their initials raised on a dais. I was equally impressed by the artwork hanging in the galleries, including Old Master paintings by Vermeer and Rubens and many works by the 19th-century German painter Winterhalter, who made a career painting the British aristocracy in a highly idealized fashion. There’s also a hall full of marble statues, most commissioned by Victoria and Albert from artists of the day like Gibson, Theed, Thornycroft, and others. In another room, there was a special exhibition celebrating Elizabeth II’s tours around the world since coming to the throne in 1952. She is the most traveled British monarch. Gifts from nations in the Commonwealth were displayed beside the gowns she wore on many of these state visits. Fashionistas like to make fun of the Queen’s wardrobe, but it turns out that pictures don’t do her clothes justice. She had some stunning ballgowns during the 1950s and 1960s.

And just when you thought I might have had enough of the aristocracy, I also went to the British Library to see the exhibition Henry VIII: Man and Monarch. The exhibition celebrates the 500th anniversary of his coming to the throne at the age of 17 in the year 1509. I’ve written on Tudor-related topics on the blog before (see my reviews on The Other Boleyn Girl and The Tudors), and this exhibition certainly feeds into the perpetual popularity of the overweight monarch who had six wives (two of whom he executed) and established the Church of England. But it also tries to show that he was a Renaissance man. Walk into the exhibition and a wall panel tells you quite boldly what to expect: “This is the Henry VIII of myth and legend. But Henry the monstrous, bloated tyrant with a face like Humpty-Dumpty of nightmare is only one of many Henrys. There’s also Henry the handsome, idealistic prince[,] the devoted son and husband, the scholar, poet, musician, friend and lover.” The exhibition was quite engaging. I’m so used to visiting art exhibitions and looking at paintings and sculptures that looking at manuscripts, plates, books, letters, documents, and the products of material culture on display here took me nearly two hours to fully appreciate it. Two of my favorite parts of the exhibition were Henry’s beautifully designed portable writing desk and a love letter to Anne Boleyn in his own hand. But one must appeal to the kids as well, and since Henry was an avid jouster, they have a setup where children can look through an armor helmet, ride a pretend horse, and lift a wooden lance, all while watching a video segment of a joust from the point of view of the knight. Needless to say, I had to experience it, so I forced a little girl off the horse so I could get on (hey, come on, she had had her turn!). Let me tell you, that lance was unbelievably heavy! And to think they wore armor too. I don’t know how they did it. I’m now in awe at their resilience and apparent strength. I guess Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Henry Cavill do have the bodies of Tudor men! The exhibition closes on September 6th. Click here for the online exhibition website.

London 2009 - Part 2

I'm only now getting a chance to catch up on writing about some of my activities in England. There was one shared computer at the hotel, and I hated to blog while people were waiting to use it. That said, there was one rather impertinent young lady who didn't give a hoot and was blogging incessantly, even while people were waiting to use the computer. Such nerve! In any case, I'm catching up now, writing this from my Brooklyn abode.

The image you see here is one of my favorite paintings by John William Waterhouse, Saint Eulalia (1885). The painting is owned by the Tate, but it currently is hanging at the Royal Academy for the exhibition J.W. Waterhouse: The Modern Pre-Raphaelite. If you think you’ve heard about Waterhouse on this blog before, you’re correct. Back in November I wrote about Elizabeth Prettejohn, one of the curators who gave a talk about the exhibition during the NAVSA conference at Yale. Last Friday morning I had coffee with another of the curators, Peter Trippi (who also was a guest speaker at the Why Victorian Art? symposium), and then I visited the exhibition. The show at the RA is smaller than it was in its first venue in The Netherlands, which is unfortunate, but it still is excellent. The exhibition is biographical in nature and the works unfold chronologically from about 1870 to his death in 1917. Waterhouse is one of the later Pre-Raphaelites. He was older than others in the original Brotherhood (Millais, Rossetti, etc.), so Waterhouse’s take on their style comes off seeming nostalgic. Yet, he also gives it his own spin. His subjects respond more to issues of the day like women's rights and the surging interest in the occult. In addition, his brushstroke is looser and broader than the tight, linear style associated with Pre-Raphaelitism, suggesting his awareness of new influences coming from France with plein-aire painting, Naturalism, and Impressionism. The exhibition consists of 40 oil paintings with subjects ranging from classical literature to Arthurian lore, but it's complimented by drawings and illustrated books. I find Saint Eulalia to be an amazing picture. She was an early Christian who refused to worship the pagan gods and was martyred for her beliefs. According to legend, when Eulalia died, a dove miraculously sprang from her mouth and it began to snow. The dove then represents her soul and the snow becomes a metaphor for the passing of nature in winter. Compositionally, the picture hangs so that you stare at the very center. But the foreshortening at the bottom means you're in the role of a viewer, looking down at the dead girl, whose appearance is both erotic and eerie. Her hair is splayed out, suggesting blood on an otherwise pure corpse. Your eyes move over her naked breasts and follow her limbs upward, where they suddenly point to the dove whose wings unfurl and lead your gaze toward the white space in the center and the shrouded girl in white who gazes at her. It is as if only this young girl and you the viewer have witnessed the miracle. It's an incredible painting and even more impressive in person. If you're in London, I highly recommend you look for it. You can see the exhibition until mid-September, and then it moves to Montreal.

Afterwards, I visited Apsley House, the home of the Duke of Wellington (1769-1852). General Arthur Wellesley (as he was known) was raised to the peerage after his military successes against Napoleon, finally defeating him at the historic Battle of Waterloo in 1815. Wellington remains to this day one of England’s great military heroes (and in case you’re wondering, yes, he designed the utilitarian boots that became a pseudo-fashion trend and were named for him). Upon buying Apsley House, located just down the block from Buckingham Palace, he expanded and redecorated it to reflect the Neoclassical Georgian taste of the time. He inherited many works of art from the fallen Napoleonic monarchies, including one of the best pictures in the collection, The Waterseller of Seville (c.1620) by Velázquez. The most famous work in the collection, however, is probably the work seen here, Canova’s monumental nude sculpture of Napoleon as Mars the Peacemaker (1802-6). The sculpture was commissioned by the Emperor, but when he saw it he was embarrassed by the nudity and unhappy that it did not represent his true, calm demeanor (so he believed). It was only after the Napoleonic Wars were over that the figure was bought by the British crown and given to Wellington as war booty for defeating the French. One funny bit about the statue’s history, however, is narrated by the present Duke on the audio guide to the house. Properties near the house were bombed by Germans during World War II, and Apsley House suffered some damage. The only resident in the house at the time was the housekeeper, Mrs. Dow. Fortunately, she was fine, but for her insistence that of all the cleaning up to be done, they first needed to replace the statue’s fig leaf, which had blown off during the bombing and was now revealing the statue in all its apparently indecent glory.

My friend CC came down from York for one night while I was in London. I had made arrangements for us to tour two private art collections. (I’m purposely not saying anymore about this to protect the privacy of the owners, but rest assured it was very posh and we saw beautiful works of art.) We also met up with our friend DE, and over a lovely Italian dinner at Paradiso we gabbed and gossiped about art history and other fun things.

London 2009 - Part 1

I cannot tell you how surprised I was that my plane not only took off early from JFK last night, but it also was only half-full and we got into Heathrow early this morning. When I got to my hotel at the Ridgemount Hotel, my room wasn't ready yet, so I went out for coffee and decided to head to the National Gallery, which I had not been to since 2005. It's always great to see some of their incredible masterworks of art. Some that remain memorable with each visit are Titian's Bacchus and Ariadne (c.1525), Holbein's The Spanish Ambassadors (c.1535), Gainsborough's A Morning Walk (c.1785), Constable's The Hay Wain (1821), and Delaroche's Execution of Jane Grey (1833). There was also a special exhibition on 19th-century French landscape painting from Corot to Monet, all works from their permanent collection. I'm not typically a big fan of landscape painting, but the sketches by Corot, not to mention his Times of Day series, are beautiful, and the Barbizon landscape paintings by Diaz de la Peña are luminescent and simply gorgeous. The exhibition closes in September.

I also went to St. Paul's Cathedral today, which Christopher Wren designed after the 1666 Great Fire. It's a spectacular Baroque cathedral, but my purpose was to see all the 18th-century and 19th-century sepulchral monuments to soldiers from the Napoleonic Wars. I have to confess some of them are a bit over the top, but others are quite lovely in their Neoclassicism. Shockingly, though, the cathedral has an active gift shop that sells everything imaginable, but not a book about the sculpture. There aren't even postcards of the monuments. And of course you can't take pictures inside. Most frustrating, I can tell you!

I also went to the National Portrait Gallery this evening. I cannot even remember the last time I was there, but it was definitely worth visiting again. Seeing all the portraits of monarchs like Elizabeth I and her father Henry VIII was worth it. They have the entire museum arranged so that if you follow it room-by-room numerically, you see all the faces of British history, including monarchs, members of Parliament, artists, writers, you name it. I also went there today, though, because I wanted to see a special exhibition there that just opened a few weeks ago: Gay Icons. I think I may write a separate post about the exhibition specifically because there is quite a bit to talk about, but it was an interesting visual assessment that considers who is a gay icon and why people perceive others may or may not be a gay icon (even if they're not gay). That exhibition closes in October.

Return of the "Happy Dog"

One of the earliest posts on bklynbiblio was a recap of my August 2008 trip to Provincetown, where I wrote about Coffey Men, a boutique with original designs by the talented men's fashion designer Scott Coffey. Scott recently posted photos of some of his latest looks for men, including the return of the Happy Dog. I love this t-shirt! Mine is navy with an orange dog. This one is spring green with a blue dog, and still only $24. There are other colors too. He also has mermaids, elephants, and other great logos. Check out all Scott's stuff at http://coffeymen.blogspot.com/.

Rome 2009 - Part 3

The final countdown of my Top 10 Favorite Things about Rome 2009…

4. Andersen Museum. If you go just north-northwest of the Piazza del Popolo (that's the piazza in the picture above) and look for Via P.S. Mancini, you’ll find a lovely pink palazzo that houses the Hendrik Christian Andersen Museum. Affiliated with Italy’s National Gallery of Modern Art, this museum is one of the hidden gems of Rome, and it was the first time that even Luca had been there when we visited. Andersen (1872-1940) was born in Norway. He emigrated with his family to America, but eventually made his way to Rome to study sculpture and lived there the rest of his life. Andersen is little known today but for those who are fans of the novelist Henry James, who met Andersen in Rome in the late 1890s when James was in his 50s and Andersen in his 20s. The two became lovers of a sort, as evidenced by their exchange of letters. The museum was once Andersen’s studio and it now houses many of his full-size models and finished works. The work you see here, for instance, is a picture I took of his model for Evening, a sculptural group from around 1907 for the planned Fountain of Life that was never completed. These erotic figures are larger-than-life, and their idealized nudity reveals Andersen’s affinity for classicism, but on a superhuman level. This isn’t the delicate sensuality of Canova, but the sublime forms of Michelangelo. Yet, their delicately harmonic bodies show his knowledge of Carpeaux and Rodin, and thus betray his true interest: abstracting the motion of the body, like music being performed for you. The museum is filled with these enormous bodies, to the point that it almost overwhelms you. But a visit here is worth the extra few minutes of walking, if for no other reason than you’ll be the only one in the museum, and it’s in a beautiful upscale neighborhood without a tourist in sight.

3. Caravaggio. If GianLorenzo Bernini is one of the leading artists of Baroque Rome (see #8 on my list), the other is undoubtedly Caravaggio (ca. 1571-1610). This artist’s reputation precedes him. He was bisexual, an alcoholic, and a murderer, and yet Caravaggio also was one of the most prized artists of cardinals and churches, despite the frequent controversy of his subjects. Using stark realism and a heightened tenebrism (the effect of light and shadow), Caravaggio helped define artistic drama. His Bacchus at the Uffizi is one of my all-time favorite paintings, and previously I had seen works like David and Goliath at the Villa Borghese. On this trip, however, I finally had an opportunity to see other famous Caravaggio works. At the Palazzo Barberini, paintings like the psychological Narcissus are paired near the serene St. Francis in Meditation, one of the most simplistically spiritual paintings ever. I was unable to see his paintings in the churches near Piazza del Popolo, but the 3 paintings on the life of St. Matthew at San Luigi dei Francesi were worth fighting the crowds to see. Sant’Agostino, however, has another of my favorite Caravaggio paintings, the Madonna of Loreto (left, image courtesy of Web Gallery of Art). This painting was considered controversial in its day because the Madonna and Christ child are unidealized and pushed to the side, literally standing in a doorway with Mary struggling to hold the baby as most young mothers would. Instead of wealthy patrons, there are farmers who worship them (note their filthy feet), adding to the startling realism of the work. Rome is where Caravaggio lived for most of his career. If it wasn’t for him, the spirit of the Baroque never may have happened at all.

2. Local Guides. There’s nothing like having friends and colleagues in other cities. They make site-seeing a new experience. While in Rome on this trip, I met up with Christina, whom I had met at Yale back in April. We had drinks at a fantastic little wine bar not far from the Campo dei Fiori called Coco e Mimi (by the name alone, I’m convinced two drag queens own it). Luca, whom I met at another conference last year at Yale, took me all over Rome, from St. Paul’s Episcopal Church with paintings by Edward Burne-Jones to dinner at a fantastic ristorante called Tre Scalini run by friends of his. Luca’s friend Marcello met up with us one afternoon, and he was the one responsible for giving us the Jesuit tour, not to mention convincing us to visit churches like Sant’Agostino. The best part about having local guides is that you get to see and do things off the beaten path, but their companionship alone also made the week an even more enjoyable experience. Saluti e grazie a Christina, Luca, e Marcello!

1. Cremolato. Just about everyone has heard of gelato, the Italian version of ice cream. Luca took me to San Crispino for some delicious gelato, but then Christina told me I absolutely had to go to Giolitti and I have to admit theirs was better. On my last night, Luca took me outside the city center southeast of Santa Maria Maggiore, into Rome’s Chinatown, for one of the great gelato experiences at Palazzo di Freddo. It’s their equivalent of an ice cream parlor, but they’ve become quite famous and have a few branch gelati parlors around the world. But with all the gelato, Luca outdid himself by introducing me to cremolato. Like gelato, cremolato is cold and delicious, but it’s even more creamy and available in fruit flavors. It tastes like a combination of frozen yogurt and sorbet, but it’s even better than that. Top it with panna (whipped cream), and you’ll think you’re in dessert heaven. We had it at a road-side bar and coffee shop just near the Protestant Cemetery. I had fragoli (strawberry) topped with panna. I swear it was one of the best desserts ever, perfect for a hot afternoon. It was so good, in fact, that it is officially #1 on my list of great things to do in Rome! So next time you’re there, check it out. I promise, you won’t be disappointed.

Rome 2009 - Part 2

Continuing the countdown of my Top 10 Favorite Things about Rome 2009...

7. Palazzi. Everywhere in Italy there are palaces–palazzi–in a classical, Renaissance-style design. You see small signs on one building after another, identifying it as the "Palazzo Ugolino" (or some other such name) with the centuries of its construction. Occasionally you get to see through the main doors of some of these places to discover their inner courtyards with ancient fountains, sculpture, and gardens. Many of these palazzi are now apartments. Others, however, are museums, and I enjoyed going into some of these on this trip. They make for some of the best things to do in Rome, because they are practically empty. Only true art lovers find these places. The picture you see above is one I took of the Palazzo Barberini, constructed by various architects over time from the 1600s. Inside, the historic collection of paintings owned by the Galleria Nazionale dell’Arte Antica includes important works by Raphael, Caravaggio, and others. My interest in this place was that in the 19th-century the Danish sculptor Bertel Thorvalden lived and worked in the theater (later demolished in the 20th-century), and the American sculptor William Wetmore Story lived and worked here as well. I also visited the Palazzo Corsini, which houses another part of the collection of paintings owned by the Galleria Nazionale. The two most superb palazzi I visited on this trip were the Villa Farnesina and the Palazzo Doria Pamphilj. The former is not very large, so a visitor can see it in about 30 minutes. The most beautiful parts of this villa are the frescoes, all of which have been cleaned and conserved to reveal their original brilliance. Two rooms have frescoes by Raphael, including his famous water nymph Galatea. Upstairs the main bedroom has a series of frescoes from the life of Alexander the Great by the Sienese artist Giovanni Antonio Bazzi, better known as Sodoma, who proudly wore this sobriquet as an acknowledged homosexual. The one fresco of the Marriage of Alexander and Roxana is breathtaking with its bright colors and larger-than-life figures, in particular the ephebic, nearly-nude Hephaestion, Alexander’s lover, who reaches out as if to stop him from marrying Roxana (click here to see a picture). The Palazzo Doria Pamphilj is still owned by the same family after hundreds of years. They live in private quarters, but have available for tours many of the public and historic rooms, some dating back to the 1600s. I’m not a huge fan of audio tours, but the one for this palazzo narrated by the family is worth listening to, as they recount personal feelings on their home, art, and the historic events that have taken place in the palazzo. Their painting collection is enormous, although there aren’t too many major works. Most significant is Diego Velázquez’s Portrait of Pope Innocent X (1650), seen here courtesy of the Web Gallery of Art. It is a portrait so stunning in its psychological naturalism that when the Pope saw it, he hated it because it was too realistic. It’s no wonder this picture has influenced artists over the century, including most notably Francis Bacon, about whom I’ve written before on this blog, and on whom there is currently a fantastic exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

6. The Jesuit Experience. It sounds like a ride at an amusement park or a diorama display at a Christian institution, but in fact I’m referring to the experience of the Church of Il Gesú (the Holy Name of Jesus). The Society of Jesus, or Jesuit Order, was founded by St. Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556). He received his divine calling to teach and spread the word of God throughout the world. As a result, there are numerous Jesuit schools throughout the world (e.g. Georgetown University), many of which have a reputation for being among the most academically challenging institutions. From early on, the Jesuits also were the first missionaries who traveled to places as far-flung as China and the Americas, sending back to Europe some of the first detailed recordings of what these mysterious lands were like. This particular church, Il Gesú, was Ignatius’s church when he settled in Rome. Under his guidance, it was reconstructed, but not consecrated until 1584. It continued to be decorated in the ever-burgeoning Baroque fashion of the day, ultimately becoming not only the model for all Jesuit churches but also for many Counter-Reformation Catholic churches as well. When I was in Rome, I did not anticipate even going into this church. My friend Luca and I met up with his friend Marcello, and he brought us here. As it turns out, it was one of the best "churchy" afternoons of my trip. Marcello led us into the back rooms where we visited the austere chambers of St. Ignatius. It is the interior of the church, however, that is mind-boggling. The frescoed ceiling by Baciccia, painted 1672-85, incorporates incredible effects of perspective, displaying the apotheosis of the name of Jesus. (I had forgotten my camera that day, so the picture you see here of the ceiling and apse is by earthmagnified on Flickr.) Segments of the ceiling literally poke out as wooden panels, so that painted figures float, extending from the ceiling. Incorporated into this are sculptures of angels in the sinewy curvaceous forms that Bernini made famous. These angels become architectural components, reaching out and holding up what looks like segments of the ceiling, that is heaven itself. Even the architecture fools you with actual three-dimensional columns blend into painted columns and vice-versa. You cannot figure out where illusion begins or ends. And as if that weren’t enough, the entire church is gilded, dazzling you everywhere you walk. The best part, however, was that at 5:30pm on the day of our visit, we were able to watch the visual spectacle of the unveiling of the statue of St. Ignatius. This takes place in an elaborate side chapel where a panel painting about Ignatius and the Jesuits measuring at least 18 feet long is surrounded by sculpted angels, saints, and allegorical figures in marble, lapis lazuli, gold, and silver. A sculpted representation of the Holy Trinity (Father, Son, Holy Spirit) is at the very top of the display. Recorded music and choral singing begin, suggesting an angelic chorus. Suddenly, a voice resounds and tells the story of St. Ignatius in florid Italian. As each segment of the story is told, spotlights flash on one part of the altar after another. The choir continues to sing between each segment. All of this builds up to the climax, the grand finale, when suddenly in a boisterous exclamation of singing voices, the panel painting rolls downward and shining out from behind is a larger-than-life statue made out of silver and gold of St. Ignatius floating toward heaven. It was nothing less than a total theatrical experience. Mind you, it’s also the gaudiest, most ostentatious form of religious entertainment I’ve ever seen in my life. But you cannot help but get caught up in its theatricality. The combination of music, singing, lights, the dazzling display of art and gilding, and the climactic reveal at the end...it is true Baroque theater at its very best. If you’re fortunate to partake in the Jesuit experience, don’t forget also to visit the even-larger Basilica of St. Ignatius nearby, decorated with Andrea Pozzo’s enormous frescoed ceiling.

5. Hot Italian Men. You knew this was coming! What can I say? Rome has lots of HIMs (Hot Italian Men). You just have to be there and look around. In fact, you’ll get whiplash. And they know you’re looking at them, and they look back at you, longer than Americans usually feel comfortable, to the point that you’re not sure if they’re cruising or testing you, knowing you’re admiring them with their cocky grins and tanned complexions, smelling of some fragrance we haven’t even marketed yet in the States. Their dark hair is perfectly coiffed, their seemingly form-fitted bodies are decked out in Armani jeans, black Dolce & Gabbana belts, and white linen shirts. They saunter down Via del Corso and Via Veneto just waiting to be looked at by silly Americans, who desperately wish they had the guts to dress so confidently. (Note however that this look only works in Italy; dressing like that in America, and you’re a guido named Tony or Frankie who’s trying way too hard.) I could go on talking about HIMs, but let’s face it, if you’ve been there, you know what I mean. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, then go there. Now.

The countdown will continue...

Rome 2009 - Part 1

Ever since I returned from my trip, I've been thinking about what I should blog. After all, how does one describe Italia? Perhaps one just needs to experience it visually. (You can see my photos by clicking here.) But trying to write about Italy is always a challenge. In some ways, it's been done so many times by so many people, that it's almost impossible to say anything new. I read Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Marble Faun (1860) while I was there, and although the story is tedious with an overwrought Romantic plot, Hawthorne's descriptions about Italian culture in the mid-19th century are engaging, and with a city as old as Rome it's not surprising to discover that some of the sites he describes, from the Piazza Spagna to Via del Corso, actually haven't changed that much. And ever since the wealthy began taking Grand Tours to Italy in the 1700s, and the middle classes embarked on their Baedeker trips--I'm now thinking of E.M. Forster's superb book A Room with a View (1908)--it seems difficult to try to describe the country, its people, its food, its art, and its culture, with a freshness and vivacity to enthrall others. In truth, you simply have to experience it first-hand. The fact that I've been to Italy a few times also seems to have stripped away my objectivity to some extent. But I don't want to convey that there's nothing new to say. On the contrary, rather than go through a day-by-day recounting of my trip, I thought it might be more fun to give you a descriptive list of things I encountered, noticed, and took part in on this trip, keeping in mind that I've done many of the main touristy things like the Colosseum in the past, so I'm not counting those things on this list. There is still so much to see and enjoy in Rome, and there were things that I never got around to doing this time. All that means, of course, that I cannot wait to go back! For now, though, I present to you Part 1 of my Top 10 Favorite Things about Rome 2009, counting down from number 10.

10. Pantheon Oculus. Buildings are always covered with scaffolding in Italy because restoration work is ongoing, so the last two times I was in Rome, it was difficult to fully appreciate the Pantheon because of said scaffolding. This time, however, I was able to see the entire interior of the Pantheon gleaning in all its marble brilliance. The Pantheon was reconstructed in the 2nd century by Emperor Hadrian as a temple to all the gods, and later became a church. It is an architectural marvel in many ways, but specifically because of the stone dome that crowns the building. Most impressive about it, however, is the oculus, or eye, that is open to the sky in the middle of the roof. (The image you see here is by IceNineJon on Flickr.) For nearly 2,000 years, this oculus has allowed the elements to enter the temple, and at times it was a practical way of capturing rainwater in a reservoir. But what impressed me most this time about the oculus was the way the sun poured through the oculus. It shines down with a golden-white glow that gleans off the marble floor and walls. In the days before electricity, this was the only source of lighting in the Pantheon (aside from oil lamps), and as the sun shifted in the sky over the course of the day and seasons, it would have helped light one altar after another. Today, it's fascinating to watch people huddle in the glow of the sunshine as the oculus forms a large space on the floor that could hold about 100 people. I returned two other times, just to see the sun in a different location in the space. But the best part isn't the oculus itself, or the sunshine on the floor. It's the incredible light itself that pours down through the space in a spectacle that illuminates the marble and glistens off of natural dust particles filtering through the air. It is nature penetrating the marble mass of human construction, superimposing its power, reminding us of its control over us and our space. It is brilliant, architecturally, spatially, and naturally speaking.

9. Religious Fervor. Okay, so no surprise, Vatican City and the Pope are nestled in the heart of the capital of Italy. Naturally, Catholicism is going to dictate much about the way Italians live and what they believe. There must be over 200 Catholic churches in the center of Rome itself, and there are always people in them. I actually visited on this trip at least 15 churches (I lost count), from the awesomeness of St. Peter's Basilica to the charming simplicity of the early Christian Basilica of Santa Sabina. In many of these churches, there are confessionals with priests hidden in their recesses and signs representing different languages spoken, giving people from around the world opportunities to confess their sins and receive absolution. (Does receiving penance in Rome has a greater significance than doing it in Secaucus, New Jersey, I wonder?) And then there are all the chapels, most set up during the Renaissance and Baroque periods by wealthy families who hired the greatest artists to decorate them. There are more named saints in Rome than I ever encountered in my entire Catholic upbringing in elementary school. And, lest we forget, there are relics--body parts and whole corpses--enshrined in gold chests and glass caskets, and for a mere Euro you can illuminate the electric lighting and say a prayer to the dead saint's body. There are icons as well, like the statue of St. Peter in the Vatican that people have kissed and rubbed for centuries to the point that his bronze foot has morphed into a fin-like appendage. Now, if I seem cynical with all this, I don't mean to be. I was actually fascinated watching all of this. It intrigues me that people are still spiritually enthralled by all of this. You would think the Western world stopped needing relics of saints as symbols of God's power ages ago. And confession? Really...what can the old Italian woman in the confessional really be confessing...that she cheated the fishmonger by stealing an extra octopus for her calamari? But I should point out that this isn't just about Italians. The Americans are perhaps even more zealous. There were numerous groups of Catholic tour buses, and the people who come into these churches collectively pray aloud. I heard prayers spoken aloud in American English by groups of people at least four times during the week. The religious fervor in Rome is amazing. Go into any church and watch the rituals, and mantras, in action. It's worth it.

8. GianLorenzo Bernini. If Florence is a city of the Renaissance, then Rome is a city of the Baroque, and the artist who made it so was GianLorenzo Bernini (1598-1680). Everywhere you look, you will find sculptural and architectural monuments designed by this genius. In true Baroque form, they undulate and sway, they are dramatic, they show action, they draw you into their world and make you feel like they are alive, a frightening concept since so much of his work is larger than life. In the past I had visited the Villa Borghese, where some of his exquisite works are on display. David flings a rock at Goliath, and Apollo chases Daphne as she turns into a tree. Outside St. Peter's, the all-embracing colonnades that surround the piazza are by Bernini. They draw you into the fold of the Church. Inside the Vatican, he also designed the bronze baldacchino over the altar and the Cathedra Petri as a sculptural stage for the throne of St. Peter. He even designed the Fountain of the Four Rivers at Piazza Navona. Even things Bernini did not design show his influence, like the Trevi Fountain. But on this trip I made a point of spending time looking at what is one of the best Bernini experiences: The Ecstasy of St. Teresa in the Cornaro Chapel at Santa Maria della Vittoria, a church which just happened to be around the corner from my apartment. The angel prepares to pierce St. Teresa, just as her autobiography described it, the burning sensation of the angel's arrows entering her with a spiritual ecstasy transcending human sensibility. She floats on a cloud and her face glows in orgiastic delight. (The image you see here is by Nick in exsilio on Flickr.) But to see the sculpture in true Baroque form, one has to understand that it is framed by its own stage, and you realize you are watching a theatrical performance. You are not alone either. On each side, Bernini also carved balconies, and in these balconies are the patrons who commissioned the chapel. They too watch the performance, and once again you are drawn into their world. You are part of the spiritual spectacle. You are made to ache along with St. Teresa. You are invited to participate in her ecstasy. That is Baroque art. That is Bernini. That is Rome.

To be continued...

Viva Italia!

Having just written a review of Angels & Demons, by total coincidence bklynbiblio is leaving this afternoon for Italy. I'll be visiting family in Cattolica, a beach town on the Adriatic, and then I head to Rome for a week. Email/Blog access will be via Internet cafes so posts will be intermittent at best, but expect pictures and such when I return. Arrivederci!