Loyola University New Orleans Summer 2011 Italy Study Abroad

Because sometimes, you're not sure about your life or your choices, so you up and take a month-long trip to Italy. Your Roman history is rusty. Your Catholic history is rusty. Your Italian is nearly non-existant. This trip is half-academic, half-pilgrimage, and nothing's certain. But sometimes, you jump off a cliff and hope you land on something soft. Or at least see something pretty on the way down.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Beautiful Day

All the pictures I took today happened outside. Cameras weren't allowed inside where I went. But the outside was lovely.






















I'll separate the Villa Borghese by piece, because it really was a piece-based trip. A lot of the pieces spoke to me, so I have the ones that we did for class and the ones that I wrote down to look up later. I've never really looked at art critically before and never had art history or anything, but I think that it's very interesting. Besides these pieces, we saw a lot of other pieces, including the art on the villa itself. It got overwhelming after a while, and I think I get overwhelmed if I'm in a museum for too long--especially one like this--because there's just SO MUCH to process that my brain has trouble, and I get tired. However, I think I'm learning a lot more than I think I am, because I type these things up every day, read them back, and there is just SO MUCH information. I feel like I can't keep up with it all, but I'm definitely learning.

Ultima Cena, Jacopone Bassanto



Painted in 1542, this painting of the Last Supper was inspired by Leonardo da Vinci's. This takes place right after Jesus says that one of them will betray hi, so everyone's trying to figure that out. The piece I found of it on the Villa Borghese website says that the light passing through the wine glass stains the table red, representing the betrayal as well as the oncoming death of Christ. If you notice, the figure on the right is looking out toward the audience and isn't really involved in the painting. Is that Judas? It was customary for the artist himself to put himself into the picture, often looking out. It was also customary for the artist to put himself into a not-so-good position in the picture.

Other things I found on the website are that the painting has recently been restored to its original colors, which were painted over because they were too vivid and not in fashion. I personally like the bright colors.

There's also the effeminate person sleeping in the table, which we talked about a little a few days ago. We don't know if it's just another disciple, the beloved disciple, or Mary Magdalene. Carlyn brought it up while we were talking, and I thought it was interesting. I think it's also interesting to look at another portrayal of the Last Supper. We're all really used to Leonardo da Vinci's, but there are a lot of portrayals out there.

David with the Head of Goliath, Caravaggio



We led right into this one from the previous picture, as Caravaggio put himself into the painting as the head of Goliath. A lot of the analysis from this painting came from us, though Kristin pointed out the stark lack of light, which causes the painting to be very striking. The expression on David's face is an interesting mix of pity and...almost righteousness. Like he didn't want to do what he did, but he knew he did it for the greater good. He also looks a little struck by the head. After all, he's just a young boy. Antonia pointed out that Caravaggio put so much more effort into his own head (Goliath) than David. It was a little humorous. Caravaggio put himself into the painting to ask for clemency, which get got, but not until after he died. So it was kind of a win/loss.

I looked on Wikipedia for a little more insight into this particular painting, and it says that it was in the collection of Cardinal Scipione Borghese, which I forgot to mention. That's the guy whose house we were in. Or his family's anyway. That's how they had so much money to turn their house into a museum. There's an inscription on the sword that says Humilitas occidit superbiam, or "humility kills pride." The fact that Goliath's head drips blood creates drama. Also, David's expression is described as "sadness and compassion" by Catherine Puglisi, which describes it way better than I could. Also, the model for David was Caravaggio's young assistant, so the painting is kind of seen as an apology for Caravaggio's wild youth.

This is not Caravaggio's only portrayal of David and Goliath. Here are the others:





Rape of Proserpina, Bernini

I think this was by far everyone's favorite piece. I have pictures here, but it really doesn't do it justice.







It was so terrifyingly realistic that I was struck. Look at the indentations he makes on her skin with his fingers. I don't know if you can see her expression, but she's crying. There are tears on her face. He's so much bigger than she is; his hand is her entire side. And beneath them, this dog-monster's witnessing the whole thing. I got a teeny bit emotional.

This was made in 1621 or 1622. Bernini was only twenty-three when he made this piece, a Baroque piece, out of marble. It uses "rape" in the old sense of the word, meaning "kidnapping." But does that distinction really matter? Proserpina prays to her mother to help her, and you can see that in this too. Just...wow.

Apollo and Daphne, Bernini

This piece, made in 1622-1625 (they're not sure), actually struck me the most. Daphne, a lot like Proserpina, is terrified. But she's turning into a tree. SHE'S TURNING INTO A TREE. Part of her side if bark. Branches are sprouting out of her fingers. Her hair is turning into leaves. Like...I don't even know how this guy came up with this, but it's ridiculous. Just...look at it.



Apollo's very androgynous, which was common. Also, it kind of showed how for some reason, Apollo just wasn't lucky in love. Like ever.

La Verita, Bernini



I found myself struck by this piece, called La Verita. In English, the title is Truth Unveiled by Time. Apparently, Time was supposed to be in the upper part of the sculpture, but Bernini didn't finish it because he was going through a stressful time, being blamed for structural problems with St. Peter's Basilica and all. It was very personal, and the article I read on the Borghese Gallery website hints that it was probably made in response to those accusations. He bequeathed the statue to his eldest son in his will, probably as a warning. It's considered his most personal statue.

Madonna and Child with St. Anne (Dei Palafrenieri), Caravaggio



This is also one of the pieces that I saw that struck me. It's a late Caravaggio, done around 1605 or 1606, and it shows Mary, Jesus, and Mary's mother St. Anne. It's very interesting, because the painting is supposed to honor St. Anne, but she is shown as an old woman in the picture and takes the passive role as her daughter and grandson together battle the snake, which is original sin. Mary's cleavage is showing, which shocked people who looked at it, because Mary is usually seen as fully covered. Jesus is uncircumcised, and people wonder if his phallus is meant to battle the snake's.

I don't know...I think that in St. Anne's case, her grandmotherly role is filled with honor and wisdom. I'm not so sure how I feel about her being stuck in the corner like that, but she seems fine with it.

Other Things

I learned that the word "hermaphrodite" comes from a supposed child born of Hermes and Aphrodite, who had both male and female parts. I also saw three different forms of Artemis--a more traditional one, one repainted to look like a muse with a mask, and a third one that was a little more ambiguous. Lauren pointed out that in the traditional one, Artemis's hand grasps something, being more masculine, while the other hand remains more dainty and feminine, representing her kind of dual nature. Mary was based off Artemis, I learned too, and it's interesting because Mary has pretty much no masculine traits. She is always the epitome of femininity.

After the villa, we went to lunch, where I had a sandwich with green olives, artichoke hearts, mozzarella, and cured ham. It was extremely good, though different than you usually see back home. I realize I haven't been talking about food enough on here. I need to fix that. For dinner today, I had a rice ball, which is kind of like a really big mozzarella stick with rice and cheese and tomatoes inside instead of mozzarella. :P

After lunch, we went to the Catacombs of Priscilla. MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER. All the paintings in there, made somewhere in the 2nd-5th centuries, were all pretty much perfectly preserved. We had the most creepy tour guide ever. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The catacombs included the burial of all the members of the community, and the one we visited was one of the oldest. Everyone used them, including Jews and pagans, and they were buried underground because there was a lot of room underground. The soft volcanic rock was easy to dig through. The graves were dug into the sides a lot like shelves, and they were short because the people were shorter back then. A lot of the graves were made for babies because infant mortality was especially high back then. Bodies were wrapped in linen and sprinkled with lime, which hastened the process of decomposition.

People began putting bodies on top and began to dig down as they needed more room. The catacomb we went to extends 13.5 meters underground. When we went in, all the bones had been removed so that tourists wouldn't take them.

And the paintings...there was the earliest Madonna and Child painting down there, along with burial pictures, the three boys in the fiery furnace (shoutout to the choir--He never failed me yet? :P), the Good Shepherd, and so many more.

Oh, and our tour guide was creepy. Way creepy. Like...ghost-leave-us-down-there creepy, but it was okay. Because he took his lunch break (or part of it) to show us the catacombs, so I was happy.

We're watching The Gladiator right now. I think we get extra points because we're watching it in Rome. :)

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