Galileo, Figaro, Magnifico
Jun. 2nd, 2008 07:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pallas_athenaThe one thing I arrived in Florence hoping to see was the Museo della Storia di Scienza, where they have Galileo’s telescope as well as a host of other scientific devices. I found it mostly closed for renovations, but I did see not one but two telescopes: a pretty embossed-leather affair that Galileo presented to Grand Duke Cosimo II, and a plain one made of wood and paper that the astronomer kept for personal use.
Yesterday I went to the Pitti Palace, and it turns out that most of the good stuff from the Science Museum is actually on display there as part of an exhibition on the Medici family’s relationship to science.
The Medici had always been patrons of the sciences as well as the arts, from Cosimo il Vecchio down to Grand Duke Francesco (1541-1587). Francesco was the mad-scientist Grand Duke: he forced the town council to hold meetings in his lab so that he wouldn’t have to leave his experiments. According to Hibbert:
That was Francesco: crap at being Grand Duke; great at melting shit down and blowing shit up. About the only thing that could tempt Francesco away from his lab was the explosive chemistry between him and his Venetian mistress, Bianca Cappello, whom he later married over the protests of the entire Florentine establishment. They lived happily together, and died on the same day.
Francesco’s nephew Cosimo II was a pupil of Galileo’s, and famously offered his old teacher sanctuary when he got in trouble with the Church. Galileo died excommunicate, but Cosimo’s son Ferdinando II went ahead and buried him in Santa Croce, where he still lies.
Of course, the arch-patron of both the arts and sciences was Lorenzo de’ Medici (1449-1492), rock star of the Renaissance: scholar, philosopher, poet, architect, musician and beloved leader of Florence (beloved, that is, by everyone who wasn’t trying to assassinate him.) Known as "Il Magnifico," Lorenzo continued his father’s and grandfather’s practice of collecting Greek manuscripts and employing Greek scholars to translate them. He was patron to Botticelli, Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci, as well as Pico della Mirandola, the Platonic scholar who helped start the entertaining trend of Renaissance occultism. Lorenzo himself did not live at the Pitti Palace, but his descendants who moved there made it a shrine to his memory, and his death mask is there. I spent some time with it.
Lorenzo was, by all accounts, rather short and funny-looking, his voice nasal and high-pitched. In the death mask, his nose looks oddly misshapen. For the record, I would like to state that even with these drawbacks, he bids fair to win the Most Shaggable Historical Figure stakes. Watch out, Earl of Rochester, here comes Il Magnifico.
Speaking of magnificence, the Pitti Palace also has a splendid gallery of costumes. I got there and found that they were having an exhibition devoted to BUTTONS. I now know far more about BUTTONS than I previously did. I think I may have left my eyeballs somewhere among the cases and cases of BUTTONS, but perhaps some kind soul will hand them in at the Lost Body Parts desk.
(Probably my favourite BUTTONS were the ones with the tiiiiiny white-on-black cameo of nymphs crowning a statue of Priapus. Come upstairs and see my BUTTONS)
Eventually I staggered outdoors into the Boboli Gardens. Right outside the palace is a grassy amphitheatre with ranks of stone seats where the Grand Dukes held elaborate courtly entertainments, and it was there that some of the first operas were staged. Yes, opera was invented here in Florence, under the patronage of Grand Duke Ferdinando (1549-1609; Francesco’s brother, Cosimo II’s father, in case you’re counting.)
So of course I stood where the stage would have been, took in the view (the very first opera singers would have stood facing those stone seats), breathed in (they would have smelled this air, heavy with the scent of summer plants), and sang for a bit. (Did they have any clue what they were letting the rest of us in for?) (Who the hell knows?)
Yesterday I went to the Pitti Palace, and it turns out that most of the good stuff from the Science Museum is actually on display there as part of an exhibition on the Medici family’s relationship to science.
The Medici had always been patrons of the sciences as well as the arts, from Cosimo il Vecchio down to Grand Duke Francesco (1541-1587). Francesco was the mad-scientist Grand Duke: he forced the town council to hold meetings in his lab so that he wouldn’t have to leave his experiments. According to Hibbert:
“It was chemistry and alchemy, smelting and glass-blowing, gem-setting and crystal-cutting that occupied most of Francesco’s time... He was adept at making vases from molten rock crystal and precious metals; he invented a new way of cutting rock crystal and a revolutionary method of making porcelain which enabled Tuscan potters to produce exquisite wares comparable to those imported from China. He also developed ingenious methods of manufacturing fireworks and imitation jewellery.”
That was Francesco: crap at being Grand Duke; great at melting shit down and blowing shit up. About the only thing that could tempt Francesco away from his lab was the explosive chemistry between him and his Venetian mistress, Bianca Cappello, whom he later married over the protests of the entire Florentine establishment. They lived happily together, and died on the same day.
Francesco’s nephew Cosimo II was a pupil of Galileo’s, and famously offered his old teacher sanctuary when he got in trouble with the Church. Galileo died excommunicate, but Cosimo’s son Ferdinando II went ahead and buried him in Santa Croce, where he still lies.
Of course, the arch-patron of both the arts and sciences was Lorenzo de’ Medici (1449-1492), rock star of the Renaissance: scholar, philosopher, poet, architect, musician and beloved leader of Florence (beloved, that is, by everyone who wasn’t trying to assassinate him.) Known as "Il Magnifico," Lorenzo continued his father’s and grandfather’s practice of collecting Greek manuscripts and employing Greek scholars to translate them. He was patron to Botticelli, Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci, as well as Pico della Mirandola, the Platonic scholar who helped start the entertaining trend of Renaissance occultism. Lorenzo himself did not live at the Pitti Palace, but his descendants who moved there made it a shrine to his memory, and his death mask is there. I spent some time with it.
Lorenzo was, by all accounts, rather short and funny-looking, his voice nasal and high-pitched. In the death mask, his nose looks oddly misshapen. For the record, I would like to state that even with these drawbacks, he bids fair to win the Most Shaggable Historical Figure stakes. Watch out, Earl of Rochester, here comes Il Magnifico.
Speaking of magnificence, the Pitti Palace also has a splendid gallery of costumes. I got there and found that they were having an exhibition devoted to BUTTONS. I now know far more about BUTTONS than I previously did. I think I may have left my eyeballs somewhere among the cases and cases of BUTTONS, but perhaps some kind soul will hand them in at the Lost Body Parts desk.
(Probably my favourite BUTTONS were the ones with the tiiiiiny white-on-black cameo of nymphs crowning a statue of Priapus. Come upstairs and see my BUTTONS)
Eventually I staggered outdoors into the Boboli Gardens. Right outside the palace is a grassy amphitheatre with ranks of stone seats where the Grand Dukes held elaborate courtly entertainments, and it was there that some of the first operas were staged. Yes, opera was invented here in Florence, under the patronage of Grand Duke Ferdinando (1549-1609; Francesco’s brother, Cosimo II’s father, in case you’re counting.)
So of course I stood where the stage would have been, took in the view (the very first opera singers would have stood facing those stone seats), breathed in (they would have smelled this air, heavy with the scent of summer plants), and sang for a bit. (Did they have any clue what they were letting the rest of us in for?) (Who the hell knows?)
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no subject
on 2008-06-02 03:15 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-06-02 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-06-02 04:23 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-06-02 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-06-02 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-06-02 08:31 pm (UTC)It's a fact...
on 2008-06-04 03:34 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-06-04 11:54 pm (UTC)Bad news for John Wilmot!
on 2008-06-16 04:09 am (UTC)