Visiting the Uffizi Galleries and the Bargello Museum in Florence (Italy) with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Visiting the Uffizi Galleries and the Bargello Museum in Florence (Italy) with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

The next day, we were the first people in line at the Uffizi Galleries.  The Uffizi were definitely going to figure into all of my Plan As until I visited them.

The Museum contains a microcosm of Renaissance paintings, but the room that struck me the most was the one with the monumental paintings of the Madonna and Child by Cimabue, Duccio, and Giotto.

These mothers holding their sons were massive, upright, and powerful.  They derived their strength from motherhood and taking care of their children.

Later in life, I would see Egyptian sculptures and realized that the mother goddess tradition never really died out in the Mediterranean.  I wanted to be like those Madonnas someday.  I liked children, despite working in a consulting firm.

Those Madonnas were my favorite paintings in the Uffizi.

I love painting, but I preferred sculpture, so we ran off to see the Bargello Museum.  Plan A actually worked that day, so we entered the museum without a hitch.

Michelangelo’s paunch-bellied Bacchus (the Roman version of the Greek Dionysius) looked like a sophisticated John Belushi from the Animal House movie as he spilled wine for the generations.

I remembered sitting in the art history library at the University of Chicago with photographic plates memorizing artists, dates, and unique aspects of various works for exams.  I knew I was planning future vacation itineraries at the time.

Memorizing art works that way is hard, but I recognize even minor works now thanks to all the hard work that I put into studying those black-and-white plates.

I asked Laurent to take my photograph next to Donatello’s frail-looking David, who made the exploit of vanquishing Goliath seem even more amazing.   Verocchio’s sweet David looked like he was wearing a dress and a fashionable one at that decorated with flowers.

The Bargello Museum used to be a prison, and the frescoes around the top of the rooms showed various forms of torture.  I do not think the Renaissance Florentines believed in reform, parole, or release.

By Ruth Paget - author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Admiring Michelangelo's David in Florence (Italy) by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Admiring Michelangelo’s David and Walking around Florence (Italy) by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

We started our day out following my carefully planned agenda of visiting the Florentine Academy which houses Michelangelo’s towering statue of David.

I told Laurent that the Florentine’s identified David.  They liked how he utilized his intelligence to overcome a formidable adversary much like the Florentines had done throughout their history.

I wanted to see the David and della Robbia’s colorful wreaths of cherubs in blues and yellows throughout the museum.

The next place I wanted to visit was the Uffizi Galleries.  A long line snaked its way under the museum and out into the street.  So, I had to make a Plan B.

I was soon to discover that Italy is a country that requires lots of Plan Bs.  You learn to go with the flow that it provides.  You can always drink a coffee at a sidewalk café while considering what to do next.

Plan B involved walking around the sculptures (or rather the copies of them) that line the Palazzo Vecchio.  We saw Giambologna’s Rape of the Sabine Women, which featured lots of twisting and turning. 

The Sabine women were physically and smarter than the descendants of the women of Troy (Aeneas’s companions) and were replaced to become the matrons of Ancient Rome.

Cellini’s Judith and Holofernes reminded me never to get so drunk or drugged on poppy flower derivatives that my head could be cut off while I was passed out in bed or on the floor.  (Poppy flower derivatives = heroin from Afghanistan = ecstasy in its modern club form = no exit strategy for the Afghanistan War? Ecstasy is very expensive despite being cheap to produce.)

The Judith and Holofernes story is not in the Protestant Bible, but is one of the major lessons of the Catholic Church.

I also like Verocchio’s little puttos holding dolphins and smiling.

Outside we drank Aranciattas (sour lemon sodas) at a café before eating noodles at a Chinese restaurant for lunch.

After our lunch, we walked up the hills surrounding Florence to the Piazzale Michelangelo, which we discovered was the local hangout for young people. 

There was an outdoor skating rink full of virtuosos on wheels, who could skate backwards on all curves. I liked all the table-top soccer games, tons of Vespa motorbikes lying about, girls in miniskirts, young studs sitting on the railroads, video games featuring fast-driving Ferrari cars, and here and there people smooching in their cars or in the bushes.

As they say in the backwoods of Wisconsin, the Piazzale Michelangelo was a real happening.  We stayed people watching until the wee hours of the morning.

By Ruth Paget, author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Eating a Florentine Lunch in Italy with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Eating a Florentine Lunch with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget 

Standing in front of the Trattoria da Giorgio, we saw that there were many Italians inside.  For 10,000 lira we were going to have a great meal.

For our first course, Laurent and I both had fettucine with tomato sauce.  I liked how the waiter corrected our Italian pronunciation and told us that Italian was not Spanish.

I wanted Italian to roll off my tongue and vowed to learn it one day after I got done learning French and Spanish.

I loved the flavor of oregano in this dish made with a sauce of chopped onion, green peppers, garlic, tomatoes, and red wine.

Laurent ate an equally appetizing veal scallopine.  The coating of breadcrumbs and cheese on the veal made me think it would be a little heavy in the heat, though.

Both meals came with access to a communal bottle of red wine and mineral water.  We did not have to pour wine for ourselves.  One of our tablemates did the honors of pouring the wine.

He asked Laurent where he was from in Italian.  Laurent responded in French, which delighted our tablemate.  He told Laurent in French that he had worked in the vineyards of Burgundy at one time.

They chattered away while I ate.  My French was still not good enough for chattering.

My shirt stuck to my back on the way to the hotel.  I knew Italy would be hot in July.  However, I had no idea it would be so humid in Florence.  The lobby of our building was cool, but we could not take our siesta there unfortunately.

I asked Laurent why we could not go sightseeing.  He said the tourist spots close for the siesta as well.

Our room felt like an oven that had just been opened when we walked inside it.  I left the terrace door shutter slats open thinking that cool, fresh air would blow into the room.

The air coming through the room was hotter than the air in the room, so I closed the shutter slats and the door to the terrace.

Despite the heat, I was sleepy from eating.  As we lay down to sleep, we started to get dive-bombed by mosquitoes.  I made a few futile swats at them, but I was drooping with fatigue.

My first experience with living without air-conditioning in extreme heat was making me limp as a noodle.

Three hours later my cool skin made me wake up.  The room was still warm, but not as hot as before. I immediately began scratching my arms, which had been the afternoon feast for a pet mosquito.

Laurent was still sleeping, but my moving around the room woke him up.

We ventured outside to do some grocery shopping.  We wanted to economize on food, which meant we were going to eat like the locals.  We bought mineral water, bread with raisins, pecorino and Swiss cheese, and yogurt.

I insisted that we eat the yogurt for dinner, since it would spoil in the heat.  We planned an itinerary for the next day and then would walk through the cool, humid air that felt like a storm was coming to look at Santa Croce Church and walk to the Ponte Vecchio and the Palazzo Pitti Gardens.

I dropped into bed, looking forward to our next day of touring.  I hoped to visit the Florentine Academy, which houses the original David statue by Michelangelo.

By Ruth Paget, author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Visiting Shirley Plantation on the James River (Hampton Roads Virginia) by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Visiting Shirley Plantation on the James River (Hampton Roads Virginia) by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

My mother came to visit Florence and me right before our family moved to Monterey County (California).

I drove out to Charles City, which is the main town for visiting James River Plantations.  My mother took us out to lunch at the Berkeley Plantation, and then we were off down the road to the Shirley Plantation.

Shirley Plantation is the 18^th century structure and had a 300-year-old tree in the front yard, which Florence played on while we visited for the tour to begin.

The tour participants interested me more than the house.

A German family asked, “When do you plan to hold your next furniture sale?” they asked.

Three African-American ladies asked, “How many slaves were there?  Are the slave ledgers kept with the family books?”

“The slave ledgers are kept in Williamsburg,” our guide answered.

They might be digitized today for easy access and protection of the original ledger, which is probably written on fragile paper. 

I have not seen slave ledgers for plantations, but slaves were treated as merchandise and examined for sale at slave ports as well for people locating African ancestors.

I liked reading Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon in high school and know that it is important to have some roots.  Alex  Haley's book and television series Roots was very good, too, I thought.  Spoiler alert - I did not like Beloved by Morrison, because if you kill your kids, your culture will die.

I am a 15th generation American.  My Jamestown relative did not survive.  However, Isaac Penington did survive "with issue."  He was the founder of the Society of Friends "Church" or Quaker Church. His son settled in Pennsylvania and various branches of the family settled the Appalachian states. 

By Ruth Paget, author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Visiting the Hampton Institute in Virginia with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Visiting the Hampton Institute in Virginia by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

I discovered the Hampton Institute at the end of our stay in Virginia and could not believe that I almost missed visiting such an excellent museum.

The Hampton Institute was set up in 1868 to educate African-Americans and Native-Americans.  The school’s most famous graduate was Booker T. Washington.

The Museum houses masterworks such as African-American artist Henry Ossawa’s The Banjo Lesson painted in 1895.  The West African art collection has a full regalia medicine man’s outfit and armchairs in it.

While we were there, the museum was holding a special exhibition about the Harlem Renaissance painters William Johnson and Malvin Johnson.

I was surprised that we were the only visitors at the museum.  It was a gem.

Lunch at the air-conditioned Pizza Hut afterwards - mushroom-cheese pizza with a large salad.  I still eat this combination and am a well-preserved, middle-aged woman.

By Ruth Paget, author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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