Lunch with the gods

We arrived in Florence and found our hotel just fine. The train itself was nice; Dad liked it a lot:



It was time for a late lunch, so we took a walk to a place the hotel staff recommended. It was a nice stroll along the Arno River, which runs through Florence. Here I am chilling on the Arno:



We walked past the Ponte Vecchio (literally, Old Bridge), which is a major tourist spot, and rounded the corner to the Piazza della Signoria, where the reception clerk told us we could have a nice lunch.



The Piazza is a big open square with a lot of sculpture. In this picture you can see an equestrian statue in the center and a fountain of Neptune more to the right. The building you can see the corner of on the right is the Palazzo Vecchio (literally, Old Palace):



Yes, that's a replica of the David just to the left of the door, and another statue in the shadows to the right of the door, and there are even more off the frame to the left. And there are several more minor ones that I'm not even bothering to mention.

So just we're sitting on the patio of this little pizzeria, la-dee-da, getting lunch, and I'm kind of looking around, thinking "wow, there's a lot of art in this square," when suddenly I notice something that looks familiar—whoah, is that the Rape of the Sabine Women?



Sure enough—as far as I can tell, it's the original. It's part of a whole little outdoor sculpture museum, the Loggia della Signoria:



This is one thing I love about Italy: the art is everywhere. I noticed this even in Venice. There have to be more sculptures outdoors just stuck on buildings than there are in the museums of most major cities in America. It makes me realize how much the Renaissance was an intensely spiritual age, when gods walked the earth and stood proudly by even as you ate your lunch or went to the bank.

Here are nice some closeups of the art (again thanks to Dave and his photography skills):

Hercules Beating the Centaur Nessus, in the Loggia:



Cellini's Perseus, also in the Loggia:



That Neptune, and his horses:







The replica of the David outside the Palazzo Vecchio:



Hercules and Cacus, the other sculpture flanking the entrance to the Palazza:



All of this in one square.

New York—still my favorite city—was built by an energetic, industrious, and ambitious spirit, and that shows in its architecture and layout. But after spending one afternoon in Florence, I realize how spiritually lacking it is, in comparison. I say this not in contempt for New York or for America, but in pity, because I think this kind of life—with ubiquitous figures of gods and heroes dramatizing strength, courage, and confidence—is what America deserves. Maybe someday, at last, we will bring the spirit of the heroes and the gods across the ocean to our own shores, to remind us daily of the heroic potential within ourselves and the virtues we must strive to practice. Perhaps if men walked daily among the gods, we would find more gods among our men.

By the way, just around the corner was the Uffizi, one of the major art galleries in Florence; here's a glance down its corridor:



So maybe it's not such a coincidence that there was a ton of art around the place. But I think my point still stands.

Tomorrow: the Academmia, and the David.