Yesterday we went to see the city art collection, which is mostly artworks produced in Bologna, mostly by Bolognese artists. It is a large collection ranging in time from the 13th through the 19th centuries, and most of it is quite competent. But by the time we got about a quarter of the way through it, we began to feel tired of all of the crucified Christs, Madonnas-with-child paintings, saints, and mythic scenes. So much of the work seemed complacent and academic. I am aware that this is not fair to the artists or the art; we were perhaps not ideal observers yesterday. But I was wishing to see something else: Paul Klee (for fantasy) or Agnes Martin (for different kind of religious feeling). There were quite a number of interesting portraits; I think we enjoyed those most of all. The collection is housed in the upper floor of a palace formerly occupied by the Papal legate (a bishop) who was also the governor of Bologna. The high ceilings are elaborately painted; I noticed that the bishop could have gazed up from his bed at a mostly nude Psyche (with Cupid?) or possibly Venus (with Adonis?) on the ceiling as he went to sleep. Speaking of nudity, I noticed that the ancient Greeks most often show naked men and clothed women. In a lot of later art, this is reversed. How about that? On the way home, we heard a lot of shouting and thought 'what, another protest?' But this was a group of young men (all fully clothed) having fun. One of them was wearing a white robe (it looked more like a large white sack) and a laurel wreath on his head. We think was an example of the custom of hazing a student who had just become a 'dottore.' Since this incident we have seen many more students with laurel crowns surrounded by raucous groups of their friends - I guess it's that time of year.
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As we walk along Strada Maggiore on the way to the museum, we see a small, older man in a stocking cap walk in front of us, in a hurry. He is carrying a blue and white rectangular athletic bag with a shoulder strap. We see him drop the bag with a thud into a recessed window well of one of the shops. He then hurried off. Thinking his behavior suspicious, we circled back to see if anyone would pick up the bag. No. At this point we became concerned: was it a bomb? Why would a person do what he did? We hurried on to a city office in Piazza Maggiore. The woman behind the counter directed us to the police, who almost always are present near the Neptune statue. There are three young guys in uniform there, and between our broken Italian and their broken English, we make it clear to them what happened and why we are concerned. They are not very concerned. “Italy is safe,” they say, knowing that we are from the very hazardous United States. But a bit later we see them strolling toward the place that we described. We heard no explosions later, so I guess we were overly nervous.
Collezioni Comunali d'Arte Fortified by cappuccinos and half of a sandwich, we decided to go to the next museum on our list (in chronological order: yes, we do plan these things). As usual, there was too much to see and attend to in one visit, so we probably will go back. I had fun whistling some music from their collection of large illuminated manuscripts, and I really enjoyed the variety of faces and expressions on the sculptures. There were very few actual paintings, but many bas-reliefs. I have the feeling that this museum has more of an art-museum point of view than a historical point of view. A lot of their things are visually marvelous; for example, their room full of early guns concentrates on the most onately decorated specimens. Yesterday (Sunday) we walked south from our apartment to a large park just outside the old city walls, Giardini Margherita. It was overcast but not chilly. I don't have a lot to say about the park; it has a small restaurant, lots of trees and grassy areas, and an equestrian statue of Victor Emmanuel II. There are park benches with people reading, and we saw some young families walking, and people walking their dogs. Sometimes just being a park is enough! I recuperated well enough to go to a concert in the evening (of December 1): Ensemble Zipangu, named after the piece by Claude Vivier which was also on the program. The string players are a sub-group of the orchestra of the local opera house, and they gave a thrilling performance of four excellent pieces by Peter Sculthorpe (Sonata 3 for strings), Tan Dun (Concerto for gu-zeng and strings), George Lenz (Birrung) and Claude Vivier (Zipangu). All of this music was substantial, accessible, often exciting, and really the kind of stuff that I like best. The Vivier piece was a fitting conclusion to the concert; strange, searching music, full of drama and beauty. I'm so glad that I dragged myself out of the house for this!
Continuing our museum circuit, we went to the archaeology museum today. We were again staggered by the amount of material they have up for viewing; endless rows of pots, stone age flints, iron age tools, Etruscan ceramics and metalwork, jewels, Greek statues and sculpted heads, and much more. To say that we saw everything would be a stretch; we did walk down all of the aisles. Again, I took a few pictures, but Nancy is always more systematic. Here are some of my favorite things: We are now proud holders of library cards at the Bologna public library on Piazza Maggiore! Our friend Chiara took us there today and showed us how things work. I checked out two books, and I am very pleased to be able to use the library. We went to the Museum of the City of Bologna yesterday, thinking that this would be a logical place to start in a planned survey of the city museums. I think we were right: the museum gives a chronological history of the city starting with the Etruscans and going up to the present, with some odd omissions (where was Garibaldi, did we miss his room?). We used the English audio guides, and there were summary sheets in English in each room (30 rooms or more), but the detailed wall texts were in Italian. Deciphering the Italian and standing to peer at all of the interesting pictures made us pretty tired by the time we got to the end. We took lots of pictures, of course, see below. Some of the things that interested me: the Etruscans, the rise and fall of Bologna's many towers and canals, the years of Napoleon's governance, and the puppets. There is also an introduction to the Bolonese dialect, with a video of two guys speaking it. It is VERY different from standard Italian!
I am posting a few pictures below. I got tired, and Nancy was taking better (and many more) pictures than I was. She may post more later. The tombstone, alphabet, and mushroomy-looking pot are Etruscan. Also, the puppets come off looking a bit creepy in the photo, but in real life they looked a lot more comical. |
Nancy Rexford
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