Today we spent time exploring the Duomo and its accompanying museum.  The actual name of the church is Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore, or the Cathedral of Saint Mary of the Flower.  Il Duomo seems easier, sort of like how we New Yorkers say “the city” to mean Manhattan, as if only lesser places need further modifying words. 

Construction began in 1296 on top of an older, more humble church, and for roughly two hundred years underwent fits of stops and starts depending on things like wars, plagues, and available funds.  Since fancy loan instruments did not exist, one had to actually possess the cash.  The dome itself was actually built in the 15th century by Brunelleschi, who won a competition.  Though, to be fair, he had the backing of the Medici family.  Probably not much of a competition.  

The ornately decorated facade didn’t start out that way.  Rather, it resembled the more plain Baptistery of St. John, across the plaza.  (My feeling is, if you were Manhattan-rich you had your bat mitzvah in the main church, slightly poorer, like Long Island rich, you had it in the Baptistery.  I realize this analogy has its limits.)  Spare cash from the Medici gussied the frontage up over a period of time.  Believers felt the marble representing the Gods and Saints were alive somehow.  The “energy” of the building is undeniable.    

By today’s standards the structure still impresses.  I find it difficult to imagine what a typical 15th century citizen would have thought.  The museum showed how it was done, but it’s still hard to believe them doing it.  Interestingly, many tools we use in rigging today for rock-and-roll shows are basically identical to what they used.  It remains the largest brick dome in the world, and weekly services are still held. 

I find the area surrounding the Duomo confusing.  The buildings are beautiful and possess such character, yes, but the central area has the feel of a Beverly Hills mall.  The trendy, mod, designer stores juxtapose awkwardly against the ancient structures and cobble stone streets.  I wonder what Florentine citizens circa 1400s would think of Victoria and her secrets or Calvin’s shapely mannequins in the store front window?

We had lunch near the Uffizi.  Some modern art sculptures dot the various plazas.  Mom thought it resembled fish guts.  She strikes me as a traditionalist.

We spent the remainder of our day exploring the Boboli Gardens, which provided lovely vistas of the city below.  The Pitti Palace was closed, because, you know, Italy. Why work, when you can not work?

A passage way connects the Uffizi with the Pitti Palace and Gardens, crossing over the Ponte Vecchio (which means old bridge).  In the picture below, you can see it crossing over the street.  It’s open for tours now.  I find these secret passages fascinating.  You can live in a building and have a historic walkway right above or below you.  The Medici used this to travel back and forth in privacy.

I got an email from work on my personal account. My Manger is annoyed with me. I put on my internal office away message that all incoming emails would be deleted, “in the order they were received.” It tickles me 4100 miles away, I can still cause trouble. 

We travel to Venice tomorrow.