Tuesday, July 24, 2012

So you want to move to Rome? My advice: do it!

I began writing this post in my head last night, as I was trying to fall asleep (the only free time I have these days, as my dearth of blog posts testifies). The idea for this post came to me on the heels of some amazing friends who have been making stops in Rome in the past weeks. Seeing Rome through fresh eyes never fails to remind me of how amazing this city is, and how unbelievably lucky I feel to live here.


View from Via dei Fori Imperiali, photo by Giulio Menna

It is so easy to get bogged down by the negative things about this city. Every city on earth has its unpleasant aspects, but Rome’s can be so glaringly obvious and pervasive (especially as one transitions from happy-go-lucky expat to permanent resident) that it is easy to lose sight of the innumerable wonderful things, the things that made most of us expats move here in the first place.

In the space of two weeks, I have been blessed by the appearances of a number of friends, none of whom live in Rome, but all of whom have a connection with it. Cristina and Tim are ex-expats, who lived here for years and were some of my first friends when I arrived. They have both moved on to have fabulous careers outside Italy, but can’t help feel that magnetic pull to allure of this city, and are even tempted, every so often, to chuck it all and come back (although –sadly for me– I know they won’t).

Another is India, a former yoga student of mine who spent 18 magical months here as an adolescent and now, at 20, wouldn’t be able to survive a year without at least one week spent in Rome. She visits every July and her enthusiasm for Rome is contagious.

And then there’s Maeve. Were it not for a blossoming opera career in New York, she would have taken up residence in this inimitable town long ago. But, as with most musicians, career comes first, and so she’s content to visit once a year, study the language and soak up the culture. Spending time with these four amazing people has renewed my delight in Rome. After a couple of months of more griping than usual about this fair city (and its ever so difficult residents), thanks to my friends I have returned to my “default setting” of being enchanted with my adopted hometown.

Detail of Villa Medici, photo by Patrizia Ferri

And this led me to think about the people I know who aren’t happy to come here only for short visits. People who, like me, can’t help but heed that insistent voice that tells us there is no other place for us, at least at this moment in time, than Rome*. That to live anywhere else would be to deny one of the deepest desires of our souls.

People like my new friend Margaret, who even as I write this is plotting her move here. Although at a completely different stage in her life than I was as I schemed to find a way to live here 8 years ago, she nevertheless reminds me of exactly how I felt when the thought of living in Rome was not yet a reality.

People like travel writer and fellow blogger Keane Li who finds charm and fascination in every angle of the city, and captures them so compellingly in his writing. He asked me recently, in a message that I have shamefully yet to reply to, what advice I could give him on how to make the transition to live here permanently. Maybe I haven’t replied because it’s a big question. There are so many things to consider, including finances, the language barrier, work permits, the bureaucratic nightmare of becoming a legal resident, the horrifying discrepancy between salaries and living expenses, not to mention the shock of up and leaving your home, job, family, friends and culture in one fell swoop.

But, unlike most big questions, this one has a short answer:

Do it.

At the risk of sounding like a decades-old marketing campaign, just do it. There will be so many people, both those who have attempted such a move and those who would never dare, who will tell you it’s not possible, or better yet, that it’s not worth it. That it’s a big risk, it’s financially draining, it stagnates your career, and so on. All this, and for what? Just to live in a foreign country? Life will still go on, just as before.

Detail of the Fountain of the Triton by Gianlorenzo Berlini, photo by SpirosK

Yes, life will go one, and sometimes more frustratingly than before (I wrote about this in a guest post not long ago) and it’s important not to imagine that life will be as easy and deliciously carefree as Woody Allen and Julia Roberts make it seem in the movies. But naysayers who get off on telling others how things can’t be done are generally just smarting because their own experiences were less than ideal.

Don’t listen to them. You have a desire, a calling, even. You can’t explain it; you just know. Don’t let anyone change your mind. Hearing other people’s experiences is necessary, but ultimately, only you know what is right for you.

I felt this unexplainable calling too, from a very young age, as I’ve written about before. I didn’t know why I was supposed to be here. I just knew that I had to come, and stay. (PS Coming is easy; it’s the staying that is the hard part.) So come I did, and let me tell you, the first year was hard, nothing like the month-long study trips I had taken years before. But I toughed it out; I just knew I was supposed to be here, and now I realize why: his name is Claudio. (Not that he’s the only reason, of course! My lifestyle here alone is enough of a reward.)

I don’t intend to suggest that everyone who moves to Rome should stay here indefinitely. Some people come for six months or a year, get their fill of gelato and amatriciana and move back home, richer and wiser for their experiences. And there are others who stay 10, 20 years, or even their whole lives. Whatever the case, if you want to be here, come. It goes without saying, be prepared. Save up some money, learn the basics of the language, have a plan for how to make money, and don’t be too flippant about legal requirements (it’s not 2005 anymore), but just come. Things will work themselves out.

Photo by Mark Turner

It won’t be without sacrifices. You may end up living on a fraction of what you are used to in your home country, and some may see this as a step down on the socio-economic ladder, but I see it as an opportunity to learn to live with less. You’re used to living in a two-storey house? Try a cozy one-bedroom for a change, or move in with roommates, making new friends in the process. Think you can’t live without your SUV? Discover the freedom of commuting by bicycle. What you will receive in cultural, gastronomic and artistic wealth will more than make up for any temporary material lack you might feel.

I truly believe that when you are doing what you are meant to be doing, things have a way of working out. Not always exactly as you had envisioned, but brilliantly nonetheless. So if you really, really want it, take the risk. Give notice. Buy those tickets.
In short, just come. And be sure to look me up when you get here.


*Or Paris, or Tuscany, or Spain, or wherever it is your heart wants to be
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Wednesday, June 20, 2012

The Academy of Beautiful: Colors of Summer

Now, dear bloglings, before you assume I am posting about some kind of advanced esthetician training program or recommending summer nail polish shades, let me explain. 


The Accademia del Bello is a brand-new cultural center that seeks to recapture aesthetics, beauty and harmony in art. These days, beauty in art has become superfluous: much more important for works of art to express ideas, to communicate, and oftentimes to shock. An enthusiastic exhibit-goer is more likely to leave a gallery disconcerted, disoriented or even depressed than moved and uplifted. While there can be no doubt that without communication, any work of art would fall flat, that doesn't seem like an adequate reason to neglect the aesthetic aspects of art entirely.


Artist Emanuela Tamburini has for this reason created the Accademia del Bello, to remind the art-loving community of the importance of the aesthetic value of art. The Academy is a meeting place for artists as well as all art lovers, hosting themed exhibits and events, as well as offering painting and drawing courses.

I find this initiative refreshing. During my years at New England Conservatory of Music, I remember searching the listening library high and low for the most beautiful music possible. And I often felt that I had to apologize for it. "I have a preference for beautiful music," I used to say, as if I were artistically inferior to my classmates who preferred Hindemith or Berg to my beloved Debussy and Respighi. How lovely to find I'm not the only one!

The Academy's first major exhibit opens tonight with works by Rina Aloe, Wanda Bettozzi, Mario D’Imperio, Francesco Ferlisi, Donato Maiorella and Emanuela Tamburini. The Colors of Summer seeks to celebrate the beginning of the brightest and warmest season of the year with visions of forms and colors in harmony with one another. Yet each work is vastly different from the next, with a wide array of techniques, textures and colors, representing the culmination of a lifetime of experience for each of the six artists.

The exhibit opens tonight, 20 June, at 6pm and runs until 27 June, at the Accademia del Bello, on Via Gaetano Mario Columba, 23 near Via Appia Nuova (Metro Colli Albani). Open everyday from 11am to 1pm and 4pm to 7pm. Drop by tonight to see these paintings, meet the artists, and learn about the specific techniques they employ to create their work.

All images proved courtesy of the Accademia del Bello



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Six Faces across Two Continents, photographs by Phil McKinney

Oh, Bloglings, what can I say after over two months and nary a word penned? How can I ever apologize to my faithful readers? I can imagine you, desperately checking the site daily for a new post, only to have your hopes dashed by seeing, again and again, that I am neglecting you! Or, more likely, you didn't even notice my absence. Ah, well, a girl can dream. I'll try not to take it personally.

The only excuse I can give for this uncharacteristic silence is that I have had more paid writing work in the past two months than ever in my life before. That plus two jobs and the sweltering Roman heat has been enough to put the blog on pause for longer than I'd like to admit. Just as posting everyday makes me more likely to post the next day, failing to post makes it easier for me to skip a post the next day. With such a long dry spell it was going to have to take something very good and very important to get me to start writing again. Well, Bloglings, have I got a treat for you.

© Phil McKinney
This very evening, Wednesday 20 June, an exciting mini-exhibit is being presented by a brilliant, up-and-coming photographer. Phil McKinney hails from Northern Ireland and has lived all over the world, from Rome to Africa to Southeast Asia. A nutritionist who works for several UN agencies, providing valuable research and insights into the nutritional needs of the world's very poorest inhabitants, McKinney spends his free time photographing the very same people whom his work is seeking to help.**

**The photos I have posted here, however, were all shot in Rome. You'll have to come to the exhibit, or check out one of Phil's sites (see below) to see the kind of images I'm describing here.

© Phil McKinney

At Barnum Caffè near Campo de' Fiori, this evening McKinney will be presenting some of his personal favorite snapshots. Like my favorite artist Caravaggio, he has a knack for capturing his subjects' humanity. Unlike so many photographers who travel to the furthest corners of the world to photograph people from all walks of life, often never taking the time to get to know them, McKinney spends several months in each place studying and witnessing the specific problems and issues that face each of his subjects. It is this very understanding of their situation that gives him the insight to capture valuable and meaningful portraits.

© Phil McKinney

The exhibit, lasting one night only, will be particularly rewarding as the artist will be present. As I have the honor of counting him as one of my friends, I know him well enough to know he will be more than willing to illuminate these portraits will commentary on the images and his experiences in capturing them. If my hunch is correct, his photographs will soon be gracing the pages of National Geographic, so stop by to meet him to see some of his stunning images. This way you can say you knew him when, and it might be your last chance, as he is jetting off to Burma at the end of the week for his newest mission.

All photos on exhibit are also for sale, printed on high quality paper, guaranteed not to fade for 50-75 years.

Check out more of McKinney's work on his website, Chasing Phil, his blog, his Flickr page and his Facebook page.

Here are the exhibit details:
Six Faces across Two Continents (A mini exhibit and a farewell)
Wednesday, 20 June 2012, from 7pm onward
Barnum Caffè
Via del Pellegrino, 87 (near Campo de' Fiori)
Rome

Hope to see you there!

All photos copyright Phil McKinney and posted with permission.
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Monday, April 16, 2012

The many hats of Francesco Ferlisi


Hello bloglings! How I’ve missed you! I can only blame my absence on a typically chaotic Easter week and particularly debilitating allergies. I’m thinking of investing in the Kleenex company.

Nefertiti Style, Francesco Ferlisi

But I had to write today about the marvelous art opening I attended over the weekend on Via Margutta. It’s been a while since I wrote one of my street posts (if you are new to this blog, I am obsessed with discovering the meaning behind the names of Rome’s streets), and I’m thinking that Via Margutta might just be the next street I write about. It is enchanting, tucked between Via del Babuino and the Pincian Hill with a canopy of vines. But that post is for another day.




Today I am itching to write about the exhibit of paintings by Francesco Ferlisi at the private gallery Il Mondo dell’Arte on historic Via Margutta, street of artists. Ferlisi, a Sicilian-born painter active in Rome for a number of years, has been critically acclaimed across Europe and North America. His style has been described as "ironically surrealistic" and each work is deeply symbolic.

The title of this new exhibit is CopriCapi celebri. Copricapo is another word for hat in Italian (in addition to the literal cappello), from the words coprire (to cover) and capo (head). But the hats in his paintings are more than just “head-covers,” they are integral parts of the look and personality of the individual who wears them.

Capo can also mean boss, or even head of state, and the double meaning of the title refers to the fact that most of the hats depicted belong to political leaders or major players in the entertainment world. Ferlisi’s inspiration for the exhibit was not the celebrities but the hats themselves, and it is clear that the person wearing it comes second. The facial features of the wearer are often omitted, highlighting the hat, which is the real subject of each work.

God save the Queen, Francesco Ferlisi, 2011

The best part about this exhibit is that as you view the works, you will recognize the subject by their hats, not their features. Whether representing Queen Elizabeth II, Audrey Hepburn, Pope John Paul II, Marlene Dietrich or Camilla Parker Bowles, this innovative twist on portrait painting proves that what covers the head is often more recognizable than the head itself.

Audrey the Star, Francesco Ferlisi, 2011

A second section of the exhibit includes portraits of hats standing alone, that is, without a celebrity wearing them. Some are nevertheless instantly recognizable, such as the headdress of Nefertiti or the top hat of Winston Churchill, accompanied of course by his ubiquitous cigar.

You can view these fantastic and thought-provoking works (and meet the artist) at Il Monde dell'Arte gallery at Via Margutta 55, every day from 10am to 1pm and from 4pm to 7:30pm until the 22nd of April. (Closed Monday morning. Free entry.)

All images are provided courtesy of the artist and may not be reproduced. 
Via Margutta Photo source

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Friday, March 30, 2012

How I moved to Italy and married the love of my life, part 1

As you may have already guessed from the name of this blog, I love Roman pine trees. I adore them actually. I could sit and look at them for ages. Today I have come to the pines for some inspiration.


I am writing this from a bench in my favorite spot in Villa Pamphilj, what I call the pine grove, where the trees all grow in straight parallel lines. No, I didn't bring my computer to the park. I would never commit that sacrilege! I am writing this out longhand. It almost feels like I'm writing in a diary, perfect for the post I have in mind.

As you well know by now, it was my not so brilliant idea to post about my wedding every 29th of the month (because I got married on the 29th), but I quickly got overwhelmed by the back story I wanted to tell.

It started out fantastically. I had a great time writing about my ancestors, and how I feel that they have, in some strange way, guided me here. But when it came time to write about myself, I clammed up. In January I skipped the post, in February I admitted my reluctance to get too personal, but my lovely bloglings encouraged me to bag my inhibitions and open up. So here goes. (I have a feeling this is going to be long. I'll have to do it in multiple parts. Oh, how I love to draw things out. I apologize in advance!)

To tell this story properly I must begin, if not in 1861, then at least in the early 80s when I discovered that I have Italian blood. I can't remember the exact day but I remember the feeling... I felt Italian. Of course I had no idea what being Italian ought to feel like, but I knew I felt it. Never mind that I was only one quarter Italian, never mind that I spoke not a word and had never set foot in the country. Never mind the German, Irish, English, Portuguese and who knows what other blood I had--that didn't matter. What mattered was that I was Italian.

No, this isn't me, although I wouldn't be surprised if a photo of me like this exists.

Not by citizenship of course. The Italianess came to me from my mother's mother, and a ridiculous and sexist law makes it impossible for me to claim Italian citizenship through my ancestors. But that didn't stop me, especially as an exuberant 7 year old, from feeling Italian.

I'll never forget my first trip to Italy, with my mother and sister when I was 14. At that time I was blindly obsessed with the film A Room with a View. I ate, slept and breathed this film. I literally (literally!) had the entire script memorized. Being kissed on a hillside with Florence in the distance was just about the most romantic thing in the world as far as I could tell, and I wanted it to happen to me. So going to Florence was almost a pilgrimage.

I'm embarrassed to admit that at that age I didn't care much about the David or the Botticellis or even the Duomo. I cried when I stood in the Piazza della Signoria, not because of the amazing art surrounding me, or the hundreds of years of history, but because I was standing where George caught Lucy when she fainted.

A Room with a View, Merchant Ivory Film
Ah, the romance! How this scene thrilled my adolescent heart!
A Room with a View, Julian Sands and Helena Bonham Carter

What can I say, sometimes fiction is more moving than history. Blame it on my youth.

We took an overnight train from Paris, and in the morning as the train barrelled through Tuscany, I stumbled down the corridor and bumped into someone. "Scusi!" I said, automatically. Then I stopped, realizing, "I can say 'scusi' now... I'm in Italy!" Bliss.

What would I have thought then to know I would one day live here? Maybe I knew all along it was inevitable. As life sometimes works like dominoes, my obsession with A Room with a View introduced me to the music of Puccini, which began a whole new (and much more time consuming) obsession, this time with opera.

By 16, Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro filled every available corner of my brain. Just as much as I longed to perform the role of Susanna, I equally longed to be able to speak Italian. I would memorize the endless recitativi from Figaro, and rattle them off, imagining I was having a conversation with an Italian (preferably a dark, handsome, male one).

Ten years and many trips to Italy later, I was plotting to find a way to move here permanently. I no longer yearned for anything so specific as a kiss in a barley field. I just wanted to live this magical place, to soak up the beauty that Italy emanates from its very core. At first it was more of a day dream, something that almost didn't seem possible. But I wanted that dolce vita so bad I could taste it. Eventually it became a mission, until finally one day, I said to myself, "What's stopping me?" and three months later I was here.

[Cue record scratch as blissful Amelie type music screeches to a halt]

Those of you who live here know, life in Italy is not only about romance, cobblestones, and picturesque alleyways. It can be a frustrating, exhausting and extremely harsh place to live, despite what the films make you believe. I found that out not long after arrival.

I'd love to be able to say I met the man of my dreams the day I got off the plane, and that my life fell instantly into place. Instead followed four mostly wonderful, sometimes miserable and always challenging years on my own in this crazy country. Still, I wouldn't trade those years, what they taught me and how they shaped me, for anything. You'll have to tune back in this time next month to hear the rest of the story.

If you are wondering what all of this rambling has to do with my wedding, well, I'm getting to it. I have never been capable of telling a short story. The point is, just like Mr. Beebe, I am naturally drawn to all things Italian. If it were not so, I would never have met my dashing Maritino.

Photo sources: 1, by author; 2, 3, 4

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Monday, March 26, 2012

The benefits of letter writing

About a month ago, I was inspired to write three long-hand, stamped, mailed letters and I wrote about it here. Well, bloglings, for all of you out there who thought I was crazy, old-fashioned, living in the past, behind the times, technologically challenged, or unable to accept the reality of this changing world we live in, well, all I have to say is, look what was waiting for me when I got home today:


Oh, yes. Pay off. I spent a lovely chunk of time this afternoon like this:


I think I may just have to grab some stationery supplies and head to Villa Pamphilj.

Photos by author

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Friday, March 23, 2012

The story of Cupid and Psyche continues in Villa Farnesina


Yesterday I posted about the new exhibit at Castel Sant’Angelo that brings together dozens of works of art illustrating the fable of Cupid and Psyche. This show, as I wrote yesterday, particularly interested me because I love the idea of an exhibit that tells a story. And what a story, with jealousy, diversity, courage, trust, abandonment, forgiveness and true love conquering all odds, well, Disney couldn’t have topped it.

Cupid and Psyche, Antonio Canova, 1786-93, Musée du Louvre, Paris

In fact I have so much to write about it that I am continuing the subject today. If you are not familiar with the story of Cupid and Psyche, you can read it here. What I find especially inspiring about it is that Psyche, the female character, is clearly the hero of the story. Cupid may be her “prince Charming” but it is her story, and it is she who succeeds at Venus’ impossible tasks, risking her life to be with the man she loves. 

This 2nd-century story became popular in during the Renaissance and it was often the subject of artwork in bedrooms because if its romantic theme, and because it ends with a wedding banquet. The perfect subject for the art decorating the bedroom of a newlywed couple.


Loggia of Cupid and Psyche, Villa Farnesina, Rome
One of the most famous sites to utilize this subject is Villa Farnesina, the exquisite and rarely visited Renaissance palace in Trastevere. The villa was designed by Baldassare Perluzzi and built between 1508 and 1512 for the rich Sienese banker, Agostino Chigi. One of the richest men of his day, Chigi financed the caprices of many popes and their greedy relations. He was genuinely in love with his long-time mistress Francesca Ordeaschi, but because of his high social status, it wasn’t suitable for them to marry. Not being able to find a highborn woman whom he could bear to spend the rest of his life with, he moved Francesca into the villa and lived openly with her there. In an unprecedented and bold social step, they finally married in 1519, a veritable fairy tale not at all unlike the story of our Cupid and Psyche. Even more unheard of is the fact that the pope, Leo X De' Medici officiated the ceremony.

Portrait of Francesca Ordeaschi as Dorotea, Sebastiano del Piombo

No surprise then that on occasion of his long-awaited nuptials he had the ceiling of the villa’s loggia frescoed with scenes from the popular story. Like the mere mortal Psyche, Francesca was being welcomed into the social stratosphere of the super-elite, despite being not much more than a courtesan. Apparently Chigi’s ego didn’t have a problem with him representing himself as a god in this scenario. 

The walls the loggia are frescoed by several noted artists, most importantly Raphael, but it’s the ceiling that illustrates our story. Although Raphel may have been involved in the ceiling’s design, it is almost entirely the work of his greatest pupils, Giulio Romano, Giovan Francesco Penni, Raffaellino del Colle and Giovanni da Udine. The ceiling is gorgeous enough to be satisfying on its own, but when you know the story it makes it that much more rewarding.

Each spandrel illustrates a different scene from the fable, each one lovelier than the last, and the story in this case begins with Venus pointing out Psyche to Cupid. The frescoes are glorious, a celebration of the high Renaissance style that Raphael inspired. This is one of those places I could spend hours in, just feeding my eyes with the lush details and graceful figures.

Venus shows Cupid Psiche, Raffaellino del Colle

Cupid and the three graces, Giulio Romano

Venus, Ceres and Juno, Giulio Romano

The spandrel above is one of my favorites. I love mythological art because you can always find the symbols of each character somewhere. Juno's symbol is the peacock which you can easily to the right of Venus' legs. Ceres, in the center, is the goddess of grain and harvest and she wears blades of wheat in her hair.

Venus in her carriage, Giulio Romano

Venus and Jupiter, Giovan Francesco Penni

Psyche carried by amorini, Giulio Romano

Psyche and Venus, Giulio Romano
Venus clearly was not expecting Psyche to be able to pull this one off.


Cupid and Jupiter, Giulio Romano

Mercury, Giulio Romano

Mercury and Psiche, Giovan Francesco Penni


It's hard to tear your eyes away from the beautiful figures, but the festoons are every bit as worthy of praise, and were the work of Giovanni da Udine. It's not unusual for subtle sexual messages to be hidden in festoons bursting with fruit and vegetation like these ones. Sometimes it is obvious, even explicit, such as in the fresco of Mercury, right above his hand.


If you think I have an over-active imagination, take a look at the fruit just to the left of the oddly shaped cucumber (?). It is difficult to see here, but it is clearly a fig. If you speak a bit of Italian, you will know I'm not seeing things.


Council of the Gods

 In the center of the ceiling, these two large magnificent frescoes crown one of the most splendid, and least-known, wonders of Rome.

Nuptial banquet


This marvelous loggia, along with the other beautifully decorated rooms of the Villa Farnesina, can be visited Monday through Saturday, from 9am to 1pm for only €5. More information here.

Photo sources: 1, 3, all others

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Thursday, March 22, 2012

The fable of Cupid and Psyche at Castel Sant'Angelo

The fable of Cupid and Psyche is the subject of a new exhibit at the Castel Sant'Angelo that opened this past Friday. I was particularly looking forward to this exhibit because I love anything that has a theme. Don't get me wrong, retrospective exhibitions on some of the world's greatest artists, like Tintoretto, Guercino and Dalì are enthralling, but it's nice to change things up and see a show like this that illustrates a story through works of art that span the centuries.

Cupid and Psyche kiss, 2nd half of 2nd century AD, Capitoline Museums, Rome

The fable of Cupid and Psyche (Amore e Psiche in Italian) first appears in L'asino d'oro (The Golden Ass) written by Lucius Apuleius in the 2nd century AD, although the tale existed in oral tradition much earlier, as some of the works in this exhibit prove.

Psyche discovers Cupid, Jacopo Zucchi, Galleria Borghese, Rome

The story begins as an old woman recounts the tale of Cupid and Psyche to a young woman. This introductory scene is depicted in the tapestry below.


An old woman narrates the tale of Cupid and Psyche, French school, 1750 ca, Palazzo del Quirinale, Roma

 Psyche (whose name means either 'soul' or 'butterfly') is the youngest of three daughters of a king. (Although Psyche is sometimes depicted with butterfly wings, she is a mortal.) Although all three sisters are lovely, Psyche is the most beautiful by far, and people come from distant lands just for the pleasure of admiring her beauty. As you can imagine, this causes Venus, the goddess of beauty, to become enraged with jealousy.

Porcelain jasper medal depicting Psyche, Josiah Wedgwood, late 18th century. Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge

Venus cannot bear the thought that a mere mortal should be more admired than her, so she convinces her son Cupid to visit the girl while she is sleeping and pierce her with his arrow, planning to arrange for a hideous monster to be the first thing Psyche sees (and therefore falls in love with) upon awakening.

Cupid and Psyche, Limoges, mid-16th century, National Renaissance Museum, Ecouen

Cupid makes himself invisible as he sets about his task, but just as he is about to pierce Psyche with his arrow, she wakes up and even though he is invisible, she looks straight into his eyes. Distracted by her beauty, he accidentally pierces himself instead and falls deeply in love with her. Unable to complete his mission, he returns to Venus and tells her what happened. Venus is furious and curses Psyche so that no man will ever propose to her.

Cupid is so distraught that he neglects his duty of causing mortals to fall in love. No one is marrying or mating, not even the animals! In order to get the world back to rights again, Venus gives in and allows Cupid to marry Psyche.

Meanwhile, because of Venus' curse, poor beautiful Psyche has had no offers of marriage, and after consulting an oracle, her father the king reluctantly abandons her on a mountaintop where is to be married to a mysterious being. Once there, the Zephyrs, spirits of the west wind, carry her off to a sumptuous palace in a paradise-like setting.

Psyche transported by Zephyrs, John Gibson, mid-19th century, Palazzo Corsini, Roma

After being waited on by invisible servants, Psyche retires for the night. Cupid at last arrives, but he does not want Psyche to know who he is, not yet, so he only visits her at night, under the cover of darkness. As the weeks pass, Psyche longs to know what her husband looks like, but Cupid forbids it. Despite her luxurious surroundings, Psyche soon becomes lonely and Cupid allows her sisters to come visit her. Envious of her magnificent palace, they try to convince her that her husband is a vicious snake who will devour her before long. Overcome by curiosity and dread, one night she brings a lamp (and a knife, just in case) into their bedroom while her mysterious husband sleeps.

Psyche discovers Cupid, Simon Vouet, Musée des Beaux Arts, Lyon

Just as she sees him for the first time, she just happens to scratch herself on one of his arrows and is overcome with desire for him. As she covers him with kisses, a bit of oil from her lamp falls on him and awakens him (as if all the kisses wouldn't have). Furious at her for disobeying him, he flees into the night.

Cupid abandons Psyche, Joseph Heinz, National German Museum, Nuremberg

Psyche is now left alone and very much in love. She decides to go in search of her husband, visiting the temples of both Ceres and Juno. Both tell her there is only one goddess who can help her: Venus. The naive girl takes their advice and begs Venus to tell her where she can find Cupid. Venus has still not gotten over her jealousy of Psyche, so she gives her a series of impossible (and dangerous) tasks.

Psyche abandoned, Giovanni Cappelli, Galleria Museo e Medagliere Estens, Modena

After Psyche has successfully (and safely) completed all three tasks, aided every time by helpful animals and gods along the way, the furious Venus sets her on a quest that she could not possibly complete. She sends her to the Underworld to bring back a portion of Proserpina's beauty (apparently Venus had lost some of her own by stressing over the lovelorn Cupid).

Psyche alata, 2nd century AD, Capitoline Museums, Rome
Just as Psyche is about to commit suicide (the only way she can think of to reach the Underworld), the very tower she is about to throw herself off of speaks to her, telling her not only the route to reach the Underworld alive and how to get back, but also how to get past the three-headed dog, Cerberus (not to be confused with Fluffy: he likes music; Cerberus is appeased with a piece of cake) as well as other tricks of surviving the fire swamp, I mean, the Underworld (oops, wrong fairy tale).

Psyche tormented in the Underworld, 300 AD, National Archeological Museum, Napoli

Psyche has a hard time in the Underworld, as the reliefs on this ancient sarcophagus show, but she eventually survives, with a bottle full of beauty to show for her efforts. On her way to bring her trophy to Venus, she figures it can't hurt to pilfer a little beauty for herself, but when she opens it up, she finds that the bottle actually contains overpowering slumber. She collapses.

Cupid revives the fainted Psyche, Bertel Thorvaldsen, Thorvaldsen Museum, Copenhagan
Cupid, who in the mean time has forgiven her and realized he cannot live without her, rushes to her side to revive her, but quickly flies off again before she sees him. He hurries to Mount Olympus where he entreats Jupiter to allow thme to be together eternally. Jupiter agrees to Cupid's plea and Psyche is brought to Mount Olympus where the two lovers' wedding is celebrated with a banquet, and the bride is granted immortality.


Cupid and Psyche embrace, beginning of 1st century BC, Archeological Museum, Pella

So like all good fairy tales, it ends happily, except for one thing: how would you like to have Venus as a mother-in-law?

All of these gorgeous works, spanning 21 centuries and in such varied mediums as marble, terracotta, ceramic, tapestry, jewelry and oil, are all on display (along with numerous others) at this marvelous new exhibit. For practical information about the exhibit, check out my Exhibits on Now page.

While this exhibit may be temporary, you can see glorious works of art depicting these two young lovers at Villa Farnesina any time! 

All images are provided courtesy of Studio Begnini Press Office and may not be reproduced.

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Saturday, March 17, 2012

Lux in Arcana: The Vatican Secret Archives reveal 100 priceless documents

Those of you who know me well, know that I like to post about a new exhibit if not the day it opens, then at least that same week. As Lux in Arcana: The Vatican Secret Archives revealed at the Capitoline Museums was the most highly anticipated exhibition of the year (century?) for me, it might be surprising that I have waited so long to write about it.

Photo by Daniele Fregonese

I have been preparing an article on the exhibit for the Traveller, the Sunday travel magazine of both the Sydney Morning Herald and the Melbourne Age and it has been published this weekend! Here's an excerpt:

Michelangelo's smudged signature, a secret papal messaging code, a 1200-year-old book and myriad blood-red papal seals, excommunication bulls, death warrants of heretics and letters written in desperation by condemned queens - these are some of the most precious documents in the world, kept for the past four centuries in impenetrable vaults in the Vatican. For the first - and perhaps only - time in history, 100 original documents have left the Vatican Secret Archives and been shifted across town for an exhibition that opened a fortnight ago in the Capitoline Museums in central Rome...
read the full article.

I hope you enjoy it! The online version of the article unfortunately has only one photo, so below are some of the best images of the exhibit.


Photo by Daniele Fregonese
These red penant seals (tied with red ribbon or "red tape", the origin of that expression) belonged to 81 separate members of the House of Lords. They are attached to a letter from King Henry VIII requesting Pope Clement VII to grant him an annulment of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon to enable him to marry his mistress Anne Boleyn.

Photo by Daniele Fregonese
Galileo's signature! These are the court proceedings of his trial for heresy following his vocal support for Copernicus' heliocentric theory.

Photo by Daniele Fregonese
 A letter from Michelangelo begs the Bishop of Cesena to resume payment of the workers of St. Peter's after the death of Pope Paul III. The builders had remained on site to protect the precious building materials from theivery despite the fact that they were not being paid to do so.

Photo by Daniele Fregonese
A letter to the future Pope Celestine V informing him that he had been elected pope after 27 months of conclave at which he wasn't even present. The hermit priest reluctantly accepted, only to abdicate five years later. (During his papacy, he declared it the right of any pope to abdicate.) The letter is dated 11 July 1294.

Photo by Daniele Fregonese

This was one of the most exciting and bone-chilling exhibits: a 60 meter scroll of parchment with the depositions of 231 French Templar knights. During the Council of Vienne in 1311 they were forced to betray the order or face execution.

Photo by Giovanni Ciarlo

What I found so thrilling about this exhibit was that many of the documents on display pertain to events that we have all learned about, events that changed history and changed the world. Seeing the documents up close and personal brings history alive in a whole new way. In my eternal quest to travel in time, this was pretty close.


Visit my Exhibits on Now page for all pertinent information and enjoy! This is truly a once-in-a-lifetime event!

All images are provided courtesy of Zètema Press Office and may not be reproduced.

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