Thursday, December 8, 2011

The Borghese Gallery and the fate of an ill-gotten collection, part 1

Do you believe in karma?

What about when it comes to art?


Visiting the extraordinary new exhibit at the Galleria Borghese, which opens in Rome today, I couldn't help but be struck by the irony of situation. Sixty works of art, mostly antiquities, once part of the Borghese collection, have been temporarily returned from their current location at the Louvre in Paris back to their original home at the Boghese Gallery. But how did they get to Paris?

Would you be surprised if I told you Napoleon had something to do with it? But let me start from the beginning...

Rome, 16 May 1605. Camillo Borghese is elected Pope Paul V and immediately names his sister's son, Scipione Caffarella, as Cardinal-Nephew. Not content with being a pope's nephew, Scipione becomes the adopted son of his uncle and is known thereafter as Scipione Borghese. He became the most unscrupulous collector the art world has ever seen.


Scipione must have realized that as Cardinal-Nephew in corrupt 17th-century Rome, he would have more than ample access to any funds he might require, and so he traded his right of inheritance with his cousin Marcantonio, in exchange for every piece in the family's art collection. Despite his position of immense influence, he chose not to involve himself in affairs of state, and instead used his power to satisfy his obsession to possess the world's greatest art.

The collection was already dazzling, but it wasn't enough to satisfy Scipione. He had plans for a marvelous villa, custom built to display the crown jewels of his collection, and he was determined to fill it up. One of his preferred painters was Giuseppe Cesari, better known as Cavalier d'Arpino, a mannerist painter who could boast that Caravaggio had once been his student. In fact, it was d'Arpino who introduced Scipione to the work of Caravaggio, as well as that of Bernini, both of whom would go on to become the cardinal's favorite artists. Since Caravaggio had once worked in d'Arpino's studio, the latter owned a number of Caravaggio's early paintings, and possessed a collection totalling 107 works by various artists. Scipione lusted after d'Arpino's collection (the Caravaggio works in particular) and it didn't take long before he got his hands on it. In 1607, when the artist failed to pay a tax bill, Pope Paul V confiscated his entire collection and gave it to Scipione. The collection included Caravaggio's Boy with a Basket of Fruit and Sick Bacchus, both of which hang in his villa today. If Scipione was addicted to collecting art, then his uncle the Pope was his enabler.


Boy with a Basket of Fruit, Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, 1593-1594, Galleria Borghese, Rome

Sick Bacchus, Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, 1593-1594, Galleria Borghese, Rome


Another Caravaggio painting, Madonna and Child with St. Anne which had been commissioned to be an altarpiece in a chapel in St. Peter's, was appropriated by the cardinal when it was declared by the College of Cardinals to be unfit to hang in the basilica. Documents have suggested that Scipione may have planned it that way from the beginning.

Madonna and Child with St. Anne, Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, 1605, Galleria Borghese, Rome


More shocking still is how the Cardinal Borghese ended up with Raphael's sublime Deposition. A gang working for Scipione literally ripped it off the Baglioni Altarpiece in the church of San Francesco in Perugia. The city of Perugia was understandably outraged, and to appease them, Scipione had two copies of the painting by Lanfranco and d'Aprino sent to them. But if you've seen the original, you know the copies couldn't possibly substitute it.

The Deposition, Raphael, 1507, Galleria Borghese, Rome

While Bernini was more than willing to be on the cardinal's payroll, pumping out masterpiece after masterpiece, some of his most famous sculptures that still adorn the gallery today, others were not so easily convinced. Cardinal Pietro Aldobrandini had commissioned the sensitive artist Domenichino to paint his triumphant Diana and the Hunt, and when Scipione decided that the work should go to him instead, Domenichino refused to sell it to him. Domenichino was carted off to jail for his lack of cooperation (and probably some invented charges as well) and Scipione got his Diana in the end. Guido Reni, a proud Bolognese through and through, got so sick of the nepotism and corruption rife in Rome, he washed his hands of the Vatican and returned home, only to retrace his steps when the cardinal threatened him with jail as well.


Diana and the Hunt, Domenichino, 1617-1618, Galleria Borghese, Rome

But most horrific of all was his alleged blackmailing of Caravaggio. After over three years on the run due to an unfortunate brawl that left him with blood on his hands and a price on his head, Caravaggio was desperate to return to Rome. As his doting uncle the Pope had recently conferred on him the title of Grand Penitentiary, it was well within Cardinal Borghese's power to pardon Caravaggio, but for months he kept the tortured artist guessing. When the pardon finally came, the 'grateful' Caravaggio sent Scipione a David with the Head of Goliath as gesture of  'thanks'. But Caravaggio wasn't long for this world, and it was on his journey back to Rome that he died, most likely of malaria or fever (although his body was never found), and Scipione snapped up his last two available works to round out his collection.


David with the Head of Goliath, Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, 1609-1610, Galleria Borghese, Rome


None of these works are the subject of the Borghese Gallery's new exhibition of course, but to me, the way they were acquired caused the Borghese family to acrue some karmic dept that would be paid back about 200 years later to a short Frenchman with an even greater sense of entitlement than Scipione Borghese, if possible. Part 2 to come tomorrow...


Photo sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 78
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Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Seen in Rome: Palle del nonno?

When I first started this blog, I thought it would be fun to have a photo-day (I randomly picked Tuesday) where I could post some of my personal favorite photos I have taken during my 7+ years in Rome. Problem is, I never carry my camera around with me. But the other day, when I was on my way to the Trastevere Chocolate Festival (hence I had my camera in my purse) I had to stop as I passed my favorite salumeria, when I saw something hanging the window that caught my attention.

Now anyone who has spent any decent amount of time in Italy has seen these hanging around:


Coglioni is a vulgar word for testicles, and a mulo is, of course, a mule. Ass's bollocks. Mmm, appetizing.

Knowing the Italian (and particularly Roman) habit for eating any and every part of the animal (someday I'll explain what pajata is) and their lack of qualms about consuming equines (yes, they eat horse here, there is even babyfood made of horse!) I wouldn't have been surprised if the label was literal, although they do seem a little big. Luckily I read fine print: puro suino, pure swine. Ah, that makes it much better, doesn't it?

(For those interested: coglioni di mulo is the popular name of a type of mortadella salami typcial of the town of Campotosto, near Aquila.)

Thankfully I knew that, otherwise I would have been seriously disturbed when I saw this hanging in the doorway of the same shop:


Yes, ladies and gentlemen, according to the label, those are grandpa's balls.

Really? That's the name you came up with. You couldn't have called them, I don't know, salami pinecones? Well, all I can say is, what a relief to thow they are gluten and lactose free!

PS These photos were taken at the historic Antica Caciara salumeria in Trastevere, which I wrote about (among other things) in one of my all-time personal favorite blogposts, when I thought I was leaving Trastevere forever. Thank goodness it has not yet come to that!

All photos by author
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Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Words, words, words: Sfingica

Word-of-the-day is becoming a bit too ambitious, so I'm thinking word-of-the-week is a little more realistic.


This one was overheard at work last week: Sfingica. I love this word; I love how it feels to say it. (I take particular delight in saying s+consonant words in Italian, but this one has an especially nice ring to it.)

It means "like a sphinx, or pertaining to a sphinx" (la sfinge). In particular, it is used to describe someone with no facial expression, who shows no emotion or personality. Impassive, vapid, dull.

Quella tipa è così sfingica, probabilmente non ha neanche il cuore!

Or, to put it much more poetically, in the words of Alfred de Musset*:
"She would drink the blood of her children from the skull of her lover and not feel so much as a stomach ache."

*The authenticity of this quote is not to be trusted. It is, however, from one of the best films ever.
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Saturday, December 3, 2011

New Exhibit at the Quirinale


A new exhibit opened this Wednesday, not at the Scuderie del Quirinale (where the Filippino Lippi exhibit is still in full swing) but at the actual Palazzo Quirinale itself. This palace is the residence of the President of the Republic, and is generally open only once a week, on Sunday mornings at a cost of 5 euros. As you can imagine, it can be stiflingly crowded.

Thanks to the new mostra, until March the Quirinale is open six days a week--for free! The exhibit, entitled From the Unification of Italy to our time, displays hundreds of portraits, photographs, letters, newspapers, documents, videos, books and more that tell the (comparatively short) story of the country of Italy.

In 1870, nine years after the Garibaldi's troops unified the country, Rome finally fell to the bersaglieri and the capital city was moved from Torino to Rome. Pope Pius IX hunkered down in the Vatican, and his former palace, the Quirinale, became the official residence of the kings of Italy. Nearly 80 years later, when Italy became a republic, it became the residence of the president, as it remains today.

New Year's Day reception in the Sala dei Corazzieri, 1888.

The monarchs visit an exhibition at Palazzo delle Belle Arti on occasion of the 50th anniversry of the Unification of Italy, March 1911.

Hitler and Mussolini depart from the Quirinale, 4 May 1938

President Giorgio Napolitano in Piazza del Quirinale on occasion of the Notte Tricolare, 16 March 2011

One of my favorite things about the exhibit was that reproductions of important letters, photographs and documents printed on high quality glossy paper and hand-stamped are lying around on the display cases at random for visitors to pick up and take home with them.
This exhibit is most suited either to Italians or people with an active interest in Italian history of the past 150 years. If you do not fall into one of these categories, there are probably other exhibits on at the moment that might capture your interest more fully. However it is more than worth a visit simply to admire the magnificent building, now affectionately called La Casa degli Italiani. Nearly the entire piano nobile is open to the public, including the glorious Sala Gialla, Sala di Augusto and Sala degli Ambasciatori, (once one long gallery and now sadly divided) decorated by a group of artists led by Pietro da Cortona and recently restored to its original splendor. In addition, Ottaviano Mascarino's (sometimes spelled Mascherino) graceful spiral staircase, the Sala degli Specchi (Hall of Mirrors), the Sala del Balcone (Balcony Room) and many others are open to visitors.

One disappointment: the Sala dei Corazzieri (ex-Sala Regia) with its delightfully distinct frescoes of the ambassadors by Agostino Tassi, Giovanni Lanfranco and Carlo Saraceni is not part of the exhibit. Neither is the Cappella Paolina, however, if you come on a Sunday morning, at least during December, you can end your visit with a live (free!) concert in the Cappella Paolina. Since you can't get to the chapel without passing through the Sala dei Corazzieri, you'll get to see both--and get to hear some classical music!

The palace itself deserves its own post, so I will not attempt to describe it here in further detail. Instead I will leave you with a few more images of the works in the exhibition.


Joseph and his brothers, tapestry, design by Agnolo Bronzino and Raffaellino del Colle


Portrait of Queen Margherita, Pasquale Di Criscito

Portrait of Princess Elena of Savoy, Francesca Gambacorta Magliani
"The King's Thunderbolt", Fiat, 1910

Oh, did I fail to mention the kings' (and presidents') carriages and cars are also on display? For opening days and times, see the Exhibits on now page.

All images provided courtesy of Ufficio Stampa Civita
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Chocolate Festival in Trastevere!!

Let me state for the record that I do not use double exclamation points lightly. Only for occasions of exceptional importance, and this is one of them.

On my way to the post office yesterday morning in my wonderful little neighborhood, I ran smack dab into this:


Um, what? I blinked.


That's about when my heart stopped.
But I didn't have my camera on me, as usual, so I had to go back today to take photos. Honestly, it was purely for documentation purposes!


There were probably 12-15 booths set up in total, in Piazza Sonnino, near the last tram stop before Ponte Garibaldi, with a few more booths in the adjacent piazza along Via della Lungaretta toward Santa Maria in Trastevere. The chocolate represented comes from all over Italy. This first booth was certainly the most elegant. This photo does not do justice to the seemingly endless amount of chocolate lollipops (definitely not the correct term) lined up in this display.

This over-sized goblet made me giddy. It was overflowing with candied orange dipped in chocolate. How I would have loved to have had this at my wedding! 


This doubtlessly amazing shop is called Bolzi and is located in Bedonia, near Parma, in Piazza Plebiscito, 5.


This was my favorite thing of all, from a taste standpoint. These gorgeous brittles, as I suppose they are called, are made with either almonds, hazelnuts or pistacchi, and dipped in chocolate on one side. To. Die. For.

Yes, that's right. They also had macarons! Imported from Paris! (These I did have at my wedding.) The shop is located in Bergamo, but they didn't have a card so I can't offer any more info.


Naples was represented as well, with more than just chocolate. These typical Neopolitan cookies were heavenly...


Too bad the Maritino wasn't with me, he would have drooled over these fresh babà, his absolute favorite.


The amazing sweets just didn't seem to end.


One of the most surprising things was that most of the booths didn't have business cards!


There was a Sicilian pasticceria represented as well, making fresh cannoli and offering hundreds of pieces of my beloved Frutta della Martorana.


All these sweets were making my head spin and my stomach growl, but since I am a visual person, I must admit that my favorite chocolates were the ones in the shape of every day items.

 

These cocoa-covered coffee makers and phone dials are from Cioccolato Moro in Soave, near Verona.


Every girl's fantasy: chocolate and shoes in one!


Piccole Dolcezzze in Vallerano (near Viterbo) had the most adorable tools made out of chocolate. I have never wanted to fix up the house more!


These chocolate keys are fit for a pope!


A gentle hint to brush after consuming if you don't want to end up wearing a set of these:




But this last place is my absolute favorite, with chocolates in the shape of every type of cheese imaginable, not to mention salumi and mushrooms.





 

Did you see the chocolate cheese graters? I can't stand it!! (By the way, the festival runs through Sunday 4 December, so hurry!)
All photos by author
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Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Six months a wife and an illuminated manuscript

Half a year of married life! It’s hard to believe…

Every month on the 29th, I have been writing a post about my wedding, but I’m having so much fun writing about the back-story, which goes as far back as the 1860s, that I haven’t actually arrived at the wedding itself! I’m still stuck in the 1800s! Last month I wrote about my inspiring great-grandmother Faith who moved to Florence in the 1890s to teach German. One more word about her before I get to my own story.

A few years ago, around the same time I serendipitously discovered the wedding ring of my great-great-grandmother Susan (Faith’s mother), my father proudly showed me another family heirloom. He brought out a big leather-bound seemingly ancient book and carefully lifted the cover. It was a collection of German fairy stories and folktales. But this was no ordinary book, it was an illuminated manuscript, hand painted in gold, blue and red, with pages that unfolded to reveal intricate and spectacular illustrations. I wish I had a photo of it, but it is all the way on the other side of the ocean. The photos I have included are not my own, but the manuscripts in them are similar to Faith's.



My German is very poor, so I could not understand much of the book, much less read any of the stories, but I marveled at it nonetheless. I also have no expertise in dating books, so for the time being I have no idea how old the book is, or whether it is an original or a copy. But you want to know the best part about this book? It was a wedding present. For Faith, from what I imagine was one of her closest friends.




I seem to have a knack for finding inscriptions and dedications, because I discovered a tiny envelope tucked between two of the richly decorated pages of the massive tome that seemed to have been ignored for over a century. Inside, on a small card was written the following note:

“Dear Faith,                                                                           April 23rd, 1895
I wish you all the greatest possible happiness in your upcoming marriage, but not so much that you lose your love of the German language.
Much love…”



Just as the inscription in Susan’s ring is worth so much more than the gold it is carved into, so this note is more precious to me than the book itself. It makes me proud to think that even over one hundred years ago, my great-grandmother and her girlfriends got that being a good wife does not mean abandoning one’s passions. Anzi! (On the contrary!)


Photo sources: 1, 2, 3
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Thursday, November 24, 2011

Words, words, words: Piagnucolare

Piagnucolare- to whine, to whimper, to snivel


I have been meaning to look up this word for a while. You can also say frignare which means basically the same thing, but I prefer piagnucolare because its a bit more onomotopoeic. You almost have to whine just to say it.

Happy Giorno di Ringraziamento (Thanksgiving) sweet bloglings, and if there isn't enough pumpkin pie to go around, please, non piagnucolate!

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Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Streets of Rome - Vicolo della Spada d'Orlando

When I first found this tiny street, it got me so excited that I had to admit once and for all what a huge dork I am. Vicolo della Spada d’Orlando: Orlando’s Sword Alley. Now, if there isn’t a good story behind this street, then I don’t know my Rome!




Orlando, or Roland in English, is both an historical figure and later legendary character. A Frankish military leader and trusted side-kick of Charlemagne, he was later immortalized in medieval and Renaissance literature, perhaps most famously in the 11th century French epic poem, Chanson de Roland and later in Orlando Innamorato and Orlando Furioso by Matteo Maria Boiardo and Ludovico Ariosto respectively. He even makes an appearance in Dante’s Divine Comedy.

Detail of train station in Metz, France.
According to these poetic sources, Orlando possessed a mystical sword called Darundel, a horn called Oliphaunt and a horse called Veillantif. The tiny alleyway that bears his name can be found between Piazza Capranica and Via dei Pastini in Rione Colonna, just around the corner from Piazza della Pietra. The unusual name comes from the base of an ancient column that sits along the tiny street, pierced by a deep gash. But what does this have to do with Orlando? We’ve got two possible explanations:

First, during Orlando’s many travels, he found himself at Rome at some point, and upon being set upon by Roman soldiers (not very likely in the 8th century, but let’s suspend our disbelief for the moment), he defended himself with his trusty sword which fell upon this truncated column, leaving the mark that can still be seen. Even less believable is the more commonly accepted story that tells us how, moments before his defeat, to avoid allowing the sword to fall into the hands of the Moors, brave Orlando attempted to destroy it by smashing it into a column. Never mind that this last event took place during the Battle of Roncesvalles in the Pyrenees Mountains. The column, it can be explained, was transported to Rome at a later date. Never mind that the base of said column is a fragment of the Temple of Matidia, built on this spot in 119 AD by Emperor Hadrian in honor of his deified mother-in-law. Let’s not let history and archeology get in the way of a good story!

Which street names have we discussed so far?


Photo sources: 1, 2
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Words, words, words: Aiuola

Today’s word is aiuola (flowerbed) which I love simply because it feels so good to say. It’s like a diction exercise in one word! If you’re an actor or a singer and need to get your facial muscles warmed up, just repeat this word several times and you’re good to go! I also love that, even at only 6 letters and 2 syllables, it has 5 vowels! (This is particularly good to remember for the next time you play Scarabeo (Italian scrabble).)

The aiuola in front of the Vittoriano on occasion of the 150th anniversary of Italian Unification.

The other day I mentioned that there was a certain person in my life who inspires my passion for the Italian language. Just in case you were wondering, Maritino means little husband, and this is how I refer on this blog to the man I was lucky enough to marry nearly six months ago. Not, as my mother thought, the name of an ex-boyfriend who used to write me Italian poetry! She was quite scandalized! Must remember to refer to him as The Maritino to avoid confusion in future.


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Monday, November 21, 2011

Words, words, words: Parannanza


Last night I was at a dinner party and made some new acquaintances. One of them was a very cute two year-old Italian girl. Just before it was time to eat, her mother tied a tiny red apron on her, which I thought was much sweeter and more grown-up than a bib, which a big girl of her age might have resented. When I complimented her style, saying “Mi piace la tua parannanza!” (I like your apron!) her mother was impressed by my vocabulary and asked how long I had been in Italy.



I was a bit surprised, thinking to myself that ‘apron’ wasn’t such a difficult or unusual word to know. But I did a bit of digging today and discovered that parannanza is not the only word for apron. Grembiule is the much more commonly used word, and it seems that many Italians have never heard of the word parannanza! Even my trusty Word Reference site didn’t have it in their dictionary, although a Google search proved I hadn’t just made it up. Strange, I thought...

Until I remembered from whom I had learned the word: Maritino. This man is fanatic for the Italian language and writes and speaks it as if every phrase were a line of poetry. In fact, back in our courtship days, he actually wrote me poems, and it was from these that I learned words like leggiadria (gracefulness, loveliness) and bramare (to long for, to yearn for). He has awakened in me a desire to deepen my understanding and appreciation of this beautiful language. I've been reading in Italian much more these days, realizing how much I still have to learn.

Since my two favorite things are memorizing random bits of information and impressing people I’ve just met (usually by reciting said random bits of information), I’ve decided to look up and memorize one new (and hopefully impressively unusual) Italian word a day, and share it with you, dear bloglings. Then I will try to use that word in a sentence at least three times that day, even if it is only to the Maritino.

I can already think of one for tonight…

Amore, mettiti la parannanza e lava i piatti!!  (Love, put on an apron and wash the dishes!!)

(Just realized that grembiule should actually be the word of the day, as I already knew parannanza, and just discovered grembiule...)

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