Although bits of the holiday were not that good, especially the journeys and injury, nothing could detract from the incredible scenery.
I had paid for everyone to go to the Uffizi, which would have been better not on the first day when, thanks to redirected flights we had previously had only three hours sleep. However the splendour of all the Renaissance art was fortifying.
One of the features of art of this era is all that is going on in the background of the scene. I often wondered about all the little houses perched on hilltops.
Here is a photographic detail from Leonardo’s Annunciation, of stuff going on in the background, behind the angel –
are these very sculptural trees imaginary? What about the buildings over the balcony rail beside Mary?
look at the pillars and the buildings going up the hillside, are they fictitious?
I took sketchbooks with me to Tuscany. Little four inch square books with hardbacks. We were staying in a rescued old house, refurbished beautifully by the owner and surrounded on every side by views.
This is the view from the pool. All those pointy trees and the buildings going up the hillsides and perched on the tops of the hills are real, and everywhere you look.
I only had a day and some mornings in the house to draw and only had a propelling pencil and some multicoloured biros, having provided the same for the grandchildren, but the views were unbeatable, and I hope I got better as I practised. I always thought the Italian Renaissance had been inspired by archaeology, as people began to dig down through the layers of a thousand years of mediaeval mud, to the glory that was Rome below. Quite bit of it is down to the geography, unearthing thousand year old marble statues and standing them up again in such landscapes was bound to inspire anyone.
Here is the dirt track up to the villa, done in biro with a bit of pencil in the background.
Every view into the distance reveals little buildings, perched on hills, surrounded by sculptural trees, which are Lombardy pines and Italian Cypresses.
Absolutely everything is picturesque. When talking to Italians in Florence, they want to know what sort of artist you are. Outside of the Duomo a man in jeans and a tee-shirt was singing opera, by the shops an artist was painting pictures of mediaeval bridges with a palette knife. I was glad I had learned the Italian to say I make miniature articulated porcelain dolls, because I was asked.
I don’t usually draw, but in the Tuscan countryside, you almost cannot help yourself doing so.
I do need to go back. I need less time being driven round and more time, much more time, just looking.
I should be getting on with some moulds, but I’ll not do that until my stitches are out and I feel better but I think I’m going to have to do watercolours of some of my photographs.
After the Uffizi I felt as if art was spilling out of my ears, now I think it may come down my arm and escape through my fingers.
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Thank you to all readers who emailed, concerned. There goes my possible career as a top model, I’ll just have to tell Chanel, no, I’m sorry, I’m going to be an artist instead.
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