Thursday, May 29, 2003
Today we spent the day in Assisi -- which is an absolutely enchanting town. It's wonderful, and I already want to go back.
I spent most of my time in the Basilica of St.Francis, which is an amazing building. Every inch of the walls and ceilings are covered in magnificent frescoes, detailing scenes from the Bible or the lives of saints, or portraits of religious figures, all surrounded by intricate and colorful geometric patterns along the columns and vaults. It's so beautiful. I sketched so much from this building, yet I felt like I saw almost none of it. In the basilica superiore, the walls are covered with frescoes attributed to Giotto, that detail scenes from the life of St. Francis. I think they're some of my favorite paintings from what I've seen so far -- but then, I've seen so much already.
A large group of us travelled up the hillside after lunch to the Franciscan monastery there. It is unquestionably the most peaceful, reflective place I've been, perhaps ever -- definitely a refreshing break from the crowds in the city below. It's the place where St. Francis is said to have spoken to birds -- and you can hear the cries and songs of so many avian creatures that it almost seems as though they are speaking. We were only alotted an hour to spend at the monastery, which was far less than I would have liked -- but Assisi isn't too far from Castiglion Fiorentino, and I'm sure I can find a free weekend to return there.
I went back to the Basilica afterwards and sketched a bit more; I don't know what it is about the Franciscan monks, but I really wanted to draw them. Maybe it's the robes, which stand out so much in comparison to the clothing of the tourists. In any case, I sat near the back of the basilica, and had a decent view of the "security monks" who were patrolling the entrance, telling incoming people to be quiet and watching to make sure no one was disrespectful of the church. I know they saw me glancing up at them every few seconds, and I know they had this extreme curiosity as to what exactly I was doing. One of them liked to walk by the pew where I was sitting under the pretence that he was telling tourist groups to be quiet. I'm fairly sure he took those opportunities to look over my shoulder, but never said anything, which is probably a good thing, because I had labelled his picture (which depicted him sitting, leaning on his arm in a bored fashion), "a tired monk".
The other tourists are always so interested in anyone with a sketchbook though. They like to stand around and point to you, and then gather in a small crowd and hover over your shoulder for a few seconds before moving on to the next stop on the audio tour. And even in a somewhat less touristy area like Assisi, it's funny how quickly one can spot the American tourists, too: they're all wearing shorts and tennis shoes and bright hawaiian print shirts, with water bottles and bags and cameras in hand. It astounds me how little respect or concern or even awe my fellow countrymen have for a place like this: don't they realise how completely beautiful and breathtaking everything is? In Florence we saw people laying down on the front steps of the cathedral -- not just sitting, laying down -- and it was just so disappointing. Everyone just takes a picture, moves on, and complains about all the walking, while all around them a whole modern culture flourishes among the towering, intricate relics of a rich, intense history. At every corner there is something inspiring or deeply moving or even just pretty, and it seems that people completely overlook these marvellous opportunities to make their trip truly worthwhile.
You know what else I've discovered? I find that I have a real problem taking a photograph in the churches. It wasn't allowed at all in the Basilica, and a large part of me was glad for that -- I feel like it's taking away from the entire point of the building, and encouraging the touristy "click, flash, move on" mentality. I try to tell myself that I'm taking a picture for a good reason, and that I'm going to use these photographs to help inspire me in the future and remind me of this incredible experience, but I still can't take pictures wthout a twinge of guilt. I don't want to be like everyone else who crowds around and doesn't really take the time to observe what glorious things they are beholding. I've been sketching a lot inside the churches -- it gives me time to pay special attention to details, and reflect a little even with the noise of the crowds around me.
In more secular areas, I would like to share my observation that Italian people cannot drive. I rode in an Italian taxi for the first time today, and let me tell you, there were moments where it was a bit like a near-death experience. Also, I fear I am developing a slight obsession with Smart cars. They're so teeny and silly looking, like someone took a sedan and chopped it in half. Hee. You know what's sad? By the time I get over the newness of tiny automobiles and wacky driving in this country, I'll be in England where I can be all impressed by driving on the wrong side of the road. I am hopeless.
| 7:42 PM |
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