Fabulous Florence Italy

I have yet to see Florence, Italy’s Piazza della Signoria and the Loggia (that sounds so much better than ‘porch,’ does it not?) lit up so dramatically as they are now. I just assume that this is holiday lighting. I just finished editing some of the many images that I took tonight after the drizzle let up a bit. The sculptures from historical Florence never looked quite this dramatic. The shadows are fantastic!

Church of St. Giovanni Rome Italy

Franco lives in Roma and he has been inviting me back to Roma ever since I met him there in December of 2006 outside of the Coliseum. So, he greeted me at the Termini (train) Stazione after I left the Leonardo da Vinci Airport there on New Years’ Day recently. Wanting to show me the charm of his beloved city, Franco took me to see the inside of the Church of St. Giovanni, where the Pope lived before moving over to St. Peter's Basilica and Vatican City. The church is filled with art and stone! Franco seemed to know so much about every piece, too. I am including just four images of the many that I took that day to give you an idea of the grandeur of the place. Even the floor was delightful!

I was surprised a little bit that some of the fabulous columns were not, in fact, stone. They were either gesso (plaster) or stucco (I think Franco called it). And many of the white sculptures were not marble either, but a much less romantic or sexy material. If it is the same in Roma as in Florence, many of the original stone sculptures have been moved to a less public place for protection and replaced with meno cara copies.

When I was exhibiting in New York several years ago, a man was trying to tell me that his exhibited medium Parian II (I think?) was as good as marble. Now, I realize that I am biased towards the live material, but there is no way that cast stone, no matter how much marble dust goes into it, will ever look, much less feel, like real stone! This salesman was trying to convince me that the collectors wanted only an image and this fake stuff enabled them to get the sculpted image they wanted for a cheaper price.

He was not convincing me to switch. He simply depressed me. I am convinced that no matter how good a quality we humans can make a fake, a “blow-up doll” just cannot compete with a real woman. But then, maybe he was speaking about an audience different from the one I was/am seeking.

But when in Roma, do visit the Church of St. Giovanni. I was more charmed and interested than any negative emotion I temporarily felt.

Brains in Art

Above (top): Internet found image of Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam" fresco panel on the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican Museum. Below that: From the article in the Guardian: Detail from the Transfiguration of Christ by Gerard David showing a resemblance to a section of the brain (right)


Brainwave casts new light on old masters

Dear Art Fan,
I am not sure if I am allowed to do this, but I also am not sure how long news articles stay online and the following is pretty cool. So, . . . someone please tell me if I will have any bad happenings because I posted someone else's writing verbatim on my blog.
The following is an article from the United Kingdom's Guardian by Maev Kennedy. I hope you enjoy it below. During my first trip to Italia, including to the Vatican Museum, I was told the brain story regarding Michelangelo's fresco composition of the Sistine Chapel's "Creation of Adam" by a tour guide. This was the only tour I took -- promoted by Alessandro Downtown, the hostel that I stay in when in Roma. It was well worth the 15 euros! I have always been interested in art and anatomy, especially when my friend Vasily stated bluntly, "Artists, not doctors, started the study of anatomy." But then, artists do have the reputation for not following rules (It is my understanding that up until the Renaissance and perhaps even beyond it, it was against the law to defame a corpse by any kind of study of it).
Enjoy!


Maev Kennedy
Friday December 28, 2007
The Guardian

Any onlooker fleetingly imagining they spotted a human brain in the flurry of cherubs and drapery swirling around the figure of God as he stretches out a hand to raise Adam to life in Michaelangelo's [sic] famous fresco from the Sistine Chapel would probably conclude there was some malfunction in their own brain.

However, four eminent scientists are convinced the swirls are not meaningless decoration, but a transverse section of the sagittal section of a human brain.

The resemblance to a brain was first suggested by another scientist, FL Meshberger, but now Alessandro Paluzzi, Antonio Belli, Peter Bain and Laura Viva, from the neurosurgery, neurosciences and radiology departments of James Cook university hospital in Middlesbrough, Teesside, Charing Cross hospital in London and Southampton University, have dissected his theory and tracked down more brains in masterpieces by other Renaissance painters. "The idea came to me while looking at Raffaello's Transfiguration. Being a neurosurgeon I could immediately see a brain in the painting," Paluzzi said.

Partly as a joke to entertain sceptical [sic] colleagues, he and the team went on a brain trawl, and found many other examples. The team is convinced the artists were fascinated by the scientific discoveries being made by anatomists, but their theories had to be concealed in the imagery of their paintings, particularly when their clients were so often senior clergy who might see their scientific interests as blasphemous or even heretical, an offence punishable by death. The study, Brain imaging in the Renaissance, features in the Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine.


The Guardian's story

Michelangelo and Humor

Clouds

Always having been a dreamer of sorts, I am constantly watching the sky. One of my favorite pastimes is to photograph skies while I am flying. This image was taken around 8 am while I was just about to land in Chicago en route to Italy. From the ground shortly after I took this image, the skies looked dreary and it was snowing. But above the cloud line, something amazing was transpiring. I am often reminded that photography just cannot capture the feeling one has when surrounded by Nature’s beauty. Yet, I still strive to take a good image.

I hope you enjoy. Tomorrow I tell you more about my return to Italia.
Ciao, ciao.

Washing Hands in Italy

Pictured here is part of the restroom at The Art Bar in Florence, Italy. My friend Lisa encouraged me to go back and snap this shot after I told her the following story. Maybe it will save you some embarrassment when you travel abroad.

In the fall of 2006, my friend Jay and I were enjoying “Green Days” – a sour bright green vodka drink (no longer on the menu) at the Happy Hour at Rex’s on Via Fiesolana in Firenze. Inevitably, I had to make the journey to the necessary room. I wanted to wash my hands afterwards, but returned to our table a bit frustrated. I told Jay that a couple of Italians were laughing at me as I tried in vain to get the water to run from the faucets of two sinks.

There were no knobs to twist or turn, so naturally (for an American?) I assumed there was a sensor to turn on the water automatically. So, I waved my hands in increasingly exaggerated motions over and into the sink. Thinking it must be broken, I then moved to the second sink and repeated my endeavors. Niente!

Jay explained that there was a button to push on the floor, although in this case, it was very subtle. In the photo here, you can see two foot pedals: red for warm water, blue for cold. How clever! I mean, your hands are already either dirty or lathered up, so does it not make more sense to turn the water on with something other than your hands?

May you enhance your own powers of observation in 2008!

Merry Christmas!

I spent last Christmas with other “stranded” American friends in Florence, Italy, and thought I would say hello to them via this blog. Gary and Janna, Jason, and Jessica: I hope your holidays are as warm as this evening in 2006 was.

I sometimes wish that Texas had a winter season, but then I think I am too much of a wimp for that. However, wherever you are, I do wish you a good day shared with kind people.

Merry Christmas from Cedar Creek, Texas (near Austin).

Lost Wax Bronze Casting

I received a wonderful gift this month. A new collector with a vision and trust is helping me to realize one of my most personal artworks in bronze. I first created “Against the Dying of the Light” in 2001. I originally sculpted most of the clay in a week in my Texas studio and then later added the large hands at night at my site at the MARBLE/marble Symposium in Colorado. After I returned to Texas that summer, I hired several different models to assist me in getting details such as the veins in the arms and, as I told one model Todd, “quads like diamonds.”

For various reasons, this sculpture was put on hold and finally finished in 2005. Then in August 2007, a mold was made. While I had received wonderful comments and several inquiries about this sculpture, it was only while I was in Italy this past fall, that a serious collector contacted me. So my foundry created the wax from my mold in time for me to arrive back in Texas and work the waxes that will later become bronze.

For those unfamiliar with the bronze casting process, most bronzes are created hollow, like a chocolate bunny. Smaller pieces can be cast solid, but if very thick, that is not practical. Not only because of the ever-increasing price of the metal, but mostly because of the chemistry of cooling molten metal. Bronze is poured into a mold when it is around 2000 degrees hot – after the metal has become a beautiful liquid. Thin sections cool faster than thick sections, and this unevenness, if you will, causes problems in “shrinkage.”

In the case of “Against the Dying of the Light,” the arms will be cast separately, and solid. The upper body will be cast hollow, but as its own piece. And the hips and legs of the figure will be cast as one hollow piece with the large hands. After the sculpture has been cast into bronze, the parts will be welded together and then “chased,” resculpting details in the metal where all the connected parts require it. Then I will add the patina and carve the stone base.

Here you see my original work in plastilina (an oil-based clay) and later the wax pieces that my foundry poured from the mold that was made from the plastilina original. I am spending this week “chasing the wax” or removing mold lines, bubbles or holes in the wax, and checking that every detail is true to my original idea. The first step I do is examine the wax and thicken thin parts. My goal is to have a wax of consistent thickness, to minimize the effects of bronze shrinkage after the pour. It is difficult to pour a hollow figure, and often (internally) protruding parts (receding parts in the outer surface) must be reinforced from the inside. (One image shows how transparent the wax looks in the crotch area of the figure. I can clearly see where the wax is too thin.)

I will finish these waxes and return them to the bronze casting foundry before I return to Italia soon. I cannot wait to see “Against the Dying of the Light” in bronze!