Art of the Italian Renaissance is the main focus of this trip, but there's so much to see that I (Steward) have to be really selective in what I report on.
Today was the Vatican, and we headed straight to the Sistine Chapel to see Michelangelo's frescoes before the room became too crowded. I won't include any of the iconic images such as God delivering the spark of life to Adam through his finger tip. Instead, I'll include just one picture of one of his twenty Ignudi, or nude male figures. No one is sure what they represent, if anything, but he probably thought of them as images of divine beauty, since man, after all, was made in the image of God. The twenty statue-like figures help frame certain other figures, and they all hold up a long, trailing blue cloth attached to medallions decorated with oak leaves and acorns which represent the family of Michelangelo's patron, Pope Julius II.
This image like most of the others on the ceiling were probably influenced by ancient Roman statues that were being dug up all over the city at that time. One of the most famous, the Laocoon, tells the story of the man who warned the Trojans not to take the wooden horse inside the city gates—or, as Vergil warned, “Don't trust Greeks bearing gifts.” [Rough translation] As punishment, Poseidon, who obviously sided with the Greeks, sent a couple sea serpents to do Laocoon in. I guess that his two sons just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
For Michelangelo, such statues were a revelation, something that had not been seen for well over a thousand years. Instead of two-dimensional saints gazing wistfully at heaven, here were real humans with muscles, blood pumping through their veins, actively engaged in life. Michelangelo carved such statues from cold marble, and, as his contemporary, Raphael, astutely observed, he “carved” them also into his frescoes.
We also spent time with Raphael's famous fresco, The School of Athens, which reconciles Classical philosophy with Christianity. If you look closely, Plato, the one in center stage on the left has the strangely familiar features of Leonardo da Vinci. Similarly, the philosopher leaning on a chunk of marble looks like none other than Michelangelo. Finally, off to the right looking straight at us is Raphael himself. So, the three the greatest artists of the Renaissance appear in one of its greatest works of art.
By noon, the museum was wall-to-wall people, so we ducked out to a quiet, out-of-the-way restaurant for a leisurely lunch accompanied by two bottles of Prosecco!
We had planned then to visit St. Peter's, but the thick line waiting to get in snaked over half way around the piazza. That was enough to convince us to take a cab home for a nap, but first, we snapped a few photos of Karin and Gary to forward to Pope Benny and friends.
Today was the Vatican, and we headed straight to the Sistine Chapel to see Michelangelo's frescoes before the room became too crowded. I won't include any of the iconic images such as God delivering the spark of life to Adam through his finger tip. Instead, I'll include just one picture of one of his twenty Ignudi, or nude male figures. No one is sure what they represent, if anything, but he probably thought of them as images of divine beauty, since man, after all, was made in the image of God. The twenty statue-like figures help frame certain other figures, and they all hold up a long, trailing blue cloth attached to medallions decorated with oak leaves and acorns which represent the family of Michelangelo's patron, Pope Julius II. 
This image like most of the others on the ceiling were probably influenced by ancient Roman statues that were being dug up all over the city at that time. One of the most famous, the Laocoon, tells the story of the man who warned the Trojans not to take the wooden horse inside the city gates—or, as Vergil warned, “Don't trust Greeks bearing gifts.” [Rough translation] As punishment, Poseidon, who obviously sided with the Greeks, sent a couple sea serpents to do Laocoon in. I guess that his two sons just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. For Michelangelo, such statues were a revelation, something that had not been seen for well over a thousand years. Instead of two-dimensional saints gazing wistfully at heaven, here were real humans with muscles, blood pumping through their veins, actively engaged in life. Michelangelo carved such statues from cold marble, and, as his contemporary, Raphael, astutely observed, he “carved” them also into his frescoes.
We also spent time with Raphael's famous fresco, The School of Athens, which reconciles Classical philosophy with Christianity. If you look closely, Plato, the one in center stage on the left has the strangely familiar features of Leonardo da Vinci. Similarly, the philosopher leaning on a chunk of marble looks like none other than Michelangelo. Finally, off to the right looking straight at us is Raphael himself. So, the three the greatest artists of the Renaissance appear in one of its greatest works of art.
By noon, the museum was wall-to-wall people, so we ducked out to a quiet, out-of-the-way restaurant for a leisurely lunch accompanied by two bottles of Prosecco! We had planned then to visit St. Peter's, but the thick line waiting to get in snaked over half way around the piazza. That was enough to convince us to take a cab home for a nap, but first, we snapped a few photos of Karin and Gary to forward to Pope Benny and friends.
