Olive Harvest Tuscany Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Sometimes I cannot believe how lucky my life feels. This weekend was a glorious one. Four of my artist friends joined me in a little trip to the countryside in Tuscany, not too far from Florence, Italy. It is the time of la raccolta delle olive (olive harvest). The women stayed for only a short time, drawing the fields before returning to Firenze. The other two artists stayed to pick olives before we broke for lunch. Here are two shots I took not far from the house – Giovanni (left) is the nephew of the landlady. I found it interesting that they use parachutes for the olive-catching nets sometimes. They love them because they are so lightweight. Good use for a spent ‘chute, I would say!

Down in the campo (field), we saw the mascot in the truck with farmer Renato making his way over to greet us. Next is a shot I took of Irish artist Brian Smyth as he was working. I must say that the day was beautiful, the light gorgeous! Nets or parachutes were pulled to a neighboring tree and then a group of us would set to work removing olives. Some of us used just our hands; others had rakes and clever tools for pulling the fruit from the more distant branches.

Renato is the owner of the field, with his 78-year-old bride Giuliana. Renato turned 90 two days before I gained 48 years this summer. He and Giuliana met when she was a teenager after Renato went to another town some kilometers away and saw her during la passeggiata. It is a lovely story and they have a beautiful family life going on in Tuscany. Here Brian caught me giving Renato a thank you kiss.

These next images are beauts, if I may be so immodest. Sergio has so much character built-into his figure that I could not help but photograph him in his work. Then Roberto helps Giuliana move a net. And shortly after that, the net is in place. Roberto is from Santa Margherita Liguria, along the Italian Riveriera Coast. I joked with him that this is a different kind of fishing. Is the light not amazing?

After lunch Roberto, Brian and I took a walk up into the colline (hills). We saw a snake and were trying to entice him off of the road, but then realized that he was moving in vain. He had already been run over by some vehicle and his spine was crushed in parts. He was dead by the time we passed him on our way back. Horrible. However, we also saw horses, a sign for a neighbor who lost a pet pig, and -- further up into the woods than I had ever gone before -- some of the human locals. They were hunting (and finding) mushrooms and specific green leaves for tasty salads. It was fun speaking with them about various plants, including some red berries that look a little like strawberry, but grow on taller bushes and are safe to eat. I must say that the smell of the damp earth after the recent rains and the feel of the stones and dirt under my feet was the medicine I have been craving lately.

Portrait of Brian Rising River Florence, Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

I got a two-hour start on the portrait of Irish artist Brian Smyth on Monday evening. He is sitting in what I call a “bird of prey” pose and staring right behind my head. There are a lot of artists in the room and my easel is behind the standing row of others, with plenty of space for them to move back to look at their work from a distance. A lot of painters like to use binoculars. I have yet to succumb. Some part of me wants to work with whatever I have got; another hates shopping except on rare occasions; and still another likes the challenge of recreating the shapes and shadows one sees, regardless of how hazy the details. Or maybe I am just lazy and wanting to avoid the headache that looking through binocs often gives me.

I have created a lot of mistakes in this first attempt. I like photographing my art since it helps me see it in a very fresh way, in a way that a mirror rarely does. My tones are off, as well as many of the shapes, especially from the nose down. Peccato!

So, let me struggle with this again on Thursday. The second image happened after another artist told me that she loves the impression that my WIP (work-in-progress) made as he is stashed in one of the few open spaces I found in the studio. That is one long canvas that is wrapped around the board. I just couldn't be bothered to attach it during painting. I simply draped the canvas over the backside from the top of the board while it was on the easel. See? Lazy!

Most mornings I ride my bike upstream along the River Arno here in Florence, Italy. I have been thinking lately that Tuscany is not so different from Texas. After a dry and relatively warm winter here through January (Feb was COLD), we had a drought this summer bad enough to worry the farmers about the olive yield, and now we have a ton of rain. “Feast and Famine” always seemed like the creed of Texas to me. The Arno River is rising. Even the “beach” along the Oltrarno side of the river is thoroughly submerged. (And have you seen the images lately of a once again flooded Venice?) However, the forecast looks up from here on out and I am looking forward to spending some time in the country this weekend to watch la raccolta delle olive (olive harvest).

Florence, Italy Firenze Italia

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

I have been quite busy lately . . . you may see images of the “blow-up doll incident” in my Facebook photo album titled “Friends – Album VI” if you like. Seriously, I am working a lot as well, but one must always stop to smell the roses, even if sometimes the smells are not so sweet. One of the problems that I have getting to and from the studio in Florence, Italy is that I stop to record images whenever something interests me.

I am a bit nervous because once they remove the marble art installation by Mimmo Paladino in Piazza Santa Croce today, they will probably move in the “new oil” market that celebrates this year’s olive harvest. After that, . . . drumroll please . . . my favorite event there: The German Christmas Market! Oh, the gluvine (mulled spiced wine): My second favorite way to keep warm!

So, the butterflies you see over the Ponte Vecchio (and in a clear plastic box lined with a mirror on the floor in Piazza della Signoria) is a current celebration of the many individual Tuscan wines. I must admit that while I am not fussy about much, I actually prefer the wines from Sicily and Sardinia. For me to even remember that much is pretty astonishing really, because I never remember names of even the wines I love. Anyway, the “flutterbies” as my mom calls them are lovely and a fun temporary exhibit. The geometric marble sculpture of a figure is part of the Cross of marble by Mimmo Paladino. It was part of the Florens 2012 cultural celebration I wrote about earlier. It is over today.

The last images are of The Broggi-Caraceni Villino. I had never seen a dog here and this German Shepherd just looked wonderful.

So, while I am off to the studio now, I just wanted to remind you that books make great gifts. My book “My Life as a Street Painter in Florence, Italy” is available from my own Web site, from myself and another location in Florence, as well as on several Amazon sites around the world. If you buy one from me here in Italia, I would be thrilled to sign it to you or whomever you wish. Here is a link to the list of Amazon pages for your convenience in online ordering (see the right side column): www.borsheimarts.com/newsletter.htm

Florens 2012 Culture Week Florence Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Here are a few more images of Firenze during this celebration of culture called Florens 2012.

I went to see my friend Alessandro again this evening and he said that yesterday, Sunday, was very beautiful because there were TONS of children out climbing all over the marble chunks. He thinks that if children enjoy art, it is a success. [Unfortunately for those who like my photos, I had decided to stay home and work all day alone.] Also, In Piazza del Duomo there are bunches of apparently centuries-old olive trees making the Baptistry look more like the Garden of Eden (ok, a slight exaggeration). Inside there are three sculptures of Jesus Christ on the cross. Each of the three crucifixes were sculpted by one of the great Florentine Renaissance Masters Michelangelo, Donatello and Filippo Brunelleschi, borrowed from their homes in the churches of Santo Spirito, Santa Maria Novella, and Santa Croce. They, as well as the olive trees and marble cross installation, will be in exhibit through 11 November.

In one of the images here of a little girl sitting in the “O” you will see a roughly drawn red circle. That was once my bedroom window. I really enjoyed living there and seeing all of the changing life in the piazza.

The Kindness of Strangers and an Angry Nun

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

The short version of how I met Rita: I made a nun angry on a train. The Kelly version … hmmm:

Almost a year ago, I had flown from Florida to New York to Milano, Italia. From there I boarded a train to Firenze. It was mid-December. It was cold, the holidays were fast approaching, and I was alone. My divorce was final months before, I had packed up my life in America, traveled around to see as much of my family as I could, and again, I was returning to Italia without a love that I thought I had. In addition, my Italian landlady had jerked me around on my contract for a room in my former flat. While I would be staying at a friend’s place as I waited for my room to become available, I also knew that being in that place alone surrounded with my memories would make the winter feel even colder.

To top it all off, I had more luggage than I could manage alone. I met a man named Terry on the flight from NYC to Milano. [That was a story with a happy “ending.”] I helped him buy his train ticket to Firenze and he offered to take my portfolio of current art projects with him in first class. I could not even pretend to afford to ride with him and simply hoped that I had met an honest man. Thus, in boarding second class with my other full suitcases, I was in a low emotional place, physically tired, and feeling quite vulnerable. The car was full, except for my seat. I saw a space for my larger bag and proceeded to remove a small backpack so that my bag would not crush it.

After pushing my bag into the space, I put the backpack on top of my luggage. Before I even turned around, I realized that I was being yelled at . . . by a nun no less! No one had spoken Italian to me in about a year and a half so it took me a while to understand her words, but as luck would have it, a nun is not unlike most people. She repeated her points until she was sure there was no doubt in anyone’s mind about her position. Basically, she told me that I was raised wrong by my parents, and that I was rude and inconsiderate: The backpack was hers and I should have asked her permission before I touched it. [Thank GOD she was a nun or I would have received much more colorful insults!]

Embarrassed, belittled by a NUN, and already in a sad state of affairs, I think I just alternated a response of “scusa” with a “grazie” until she stopped yelling. I dropped down into my seat and put my other suitcase on my lap, squeezing its hard shape like it was a teddy bear as I felt tears well up and start to run down my face. In all of the scenes I can imagine, I had never envisioned this would be how I would start the new phase of my life!

As the train began its journey, I started to notice a very elegant man watching me from a nearby seat. He was much older than I and very beautifully dressed. His white hair topped a long and distinguished-looking face, the kind an artist would love to paint or sculpt. Each time I looked away, I felt myself looking back. He had such kind eyes and a lovely expression. He gave me a gentle smile and some time to relax, but at some point, he stood up and I could see that he was quite tall as well. He walked over and in a soft voice asked me if he could take the suitcase off of my lap and lift it up in the storage shelf above me. I let him and he returned to his seat. There was nothing to feel but gratitude.

Shortly after that, I heard the voice of an angel. She spoke to me in English and while I do not remember her exact words, they were along the lines of, “What a ridiculous nun!” The helping hands of strangers and Rita’s kind words opened up the world to me in that moment. She was sitting next to the nun, who sat across from me. (I only learned that yesterday because there was another nun sitting across from the elegant gentleman in the next section over. I thought she was the one, but the one who yelled pretended to be asleep after I finished with the bags.) I was sitting next to a man named Giorgio. After Rita broke the ice, she and Giorgio and I spent the rest of the train trip getting to know one another a bit and then Giorgio helped us with our understanding of Italian verbs. I arrived in Firenze a less frazzled woman. I also met Terry’s fiancé, Hanaa, at the stazione a Firenze and they both helped me take ALL of my bags to a taxi.

All of this to explain how I came to enjoy the most wonderful day with Rita yesterday in Firenze! She and her husband Tim are back in Italia for a short stay and I was delighted to see that the event Florens 2012 is currently happening.

Just outside of Zecchi’s art supply yesterday morning on my way to the studio, I ran into my long-time friend Alessandro. I had not seen him in over two years and we caught up over “un caffè.” He told me about the large marble cross art installation going on in Piazza Santa Croce. An Italian artist Mimmo Paladino has filled the square with a huge artwork of mixed materials, mostly marble. I thought this would be a perfect start to the tour of Firenze I would give my new friends after our lunch together.

Rita, Tim, and I met up at the Residenza il Villino where they were staying, not far from Teatro Pergola. Proprietors Elisabetta and Sergio are wonderful, with the kinds of smiles, warmth, and humor that have made Italian hospitality famous. I recommend staying there when you come to Firenze.

Our lunch included the porcini mushrooms shown here. Delicious!

We wandered on down to Piazza Santa Croce, whose basilica houses the tomb of the wonderful Michelangelo and many other great Florentines. I was delighted to see the snow-like field of tiny white pebbles covering the normally grey stoned floor of the piazza. Huge chunks of marble made me regret AGAIN leaving my stone-carving tools in America. Sigh… however, it was refreshing to see so many people enjoying the stones, including climbing up all over the artwork.

My friend Alessandro, an architect who lives right off of Piazza Santa Croce, told me that he was dismayed that so many of his neighbors just did not understand (and therefore like) this marble installation. But Ale and I agreed that it is beautiful to see the piazza in white and also to see how the people are interacting with the stone. [And after hanging out with him at his place last night, I must say that the crowds around the art installation were MUCH more fun than the obnoxious drunks hanging around in the streets that shout grunts repeatedly into the night just under Ale’s window. He said that Saturday nights are the worst and they are always like this now that more bars haved moved into the neighborhood. Sadly, Firenze might be going the way of Venezia…]

Anyway, Rita and Tim and I toured the central part of the city. We saw the sculptures in Piazza della Signoria and I showed them the spot on which occurred the Bonfires of the Vanities, as well as the execution of its originator, Savonarola, once the tide changed again. We caught the tail end of a parade just before we visited with my colleague madonnari (street painters). We saw some of the life in Piazza della Repubblica, including a weekend market of Italian-made food and herbal products. And we even visited the famous artist hangout, Le Giubbe Rosse.. There was a show of etchings going on and we met the artist. Also, some of the “gang” was there, as often the case, and Rita decided that I was famous, since I seem to run into people who know me wherever we go. Ha. Sweet.

We soon headed back to Elisabetta and Sergio and ended up at a favorite place of Florentines with tasty pizza. So, here we are, the five of us enjoying a lively and saucy conversation about love, marriage, and … how to be an Italian husband. Sergio and Elisabetta sure know how to make people feel welcome and as if you knew them forever – and would want to.

They walked me to my bike in Piazza Salvemini and from there I headed over to Alessandro’s home for a fun catch-up visit. What a glorious day yesterday was and I look forward to many more like it.

Sight Size Cast Copy Painting

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

I am not sure why I must rebel against almost everything I try to do. This next image is of a current project, a painting of a plaster cast from an original sculpture. Ideally, it should have been painted using the Sight Size Method, which means that my painting would result in an image that is the same size as the original when the painting is viewed from the proper placement in comparison to the subject (a sculpture in this case) from a viewing point of about two meters away.

Sadly, I find sight-size painting or drawing a bit dull. It takes all the fun out of it for me to discover, or interpret, the relationships I see between shapes and tones if I simply lines things up and then make a mark on my canvas that corresponds to a point I can measure on my original. I want to make a mark that I intend to make (and cast paintings are a great way to train the eye and hand), but some part of me rebels against what my mind sees as “copying.” I want to spend more time with my beloved triangles.

Anyway, here is an image of my afternoon project of the Roman soldier copy. You can see that the image on my painting is larger than the original sculpture. This is mostly because my easel is placed incorrectly. It is too far forward. Sadly, these things are so difficult to photograph and you can see how washed out are the details in the lights of the sculpture. This snapshot was taken about a week ago and the painting looks better a little each day.

In closing, have a fun and safe Halloween celebration this evening and/or All Saints’ Day on 1 November, as you will. The latter is an Italian holiday and I am looking forward to spending the day working on my art inspired by Morocco. I may also go visit the famous cemetery here in Florence, San Miniato. It is properly called Basilica di San Miniato a Monte, Firenze. Here is a shot of a few of my artist friends and me during our costumed Halloween Party last Saturday. More images are posted on my Facebook page. Good fun!