A Fountain of Beauty in Lucca

I probably have more photos of her than of any other subject in Lucca - photos taken from every angle, in every light, in every season.  She is a fascinating subject and one of Lucca’s most graceful landmarks.  She is The Naiade or Water Nymph.

 The Naiade rests atop one of Lucca’s many fountains, built in the 1800’s to bring fresh water to the city via Nottolini’s aqueduct. 

Some of the fountains are simple utilitarian structures but are few are quite decorative, none more so than the Naiade fountain. 

She was sculpted by Luigi Camolli from a design by Nottolini, one of Lucca’s most famous architects and sculptors.  She turns an ordinary fountain into a work of art.

The fountain itself is a marvel.  At the base is a large bathtub-like marble basin resting on claw feet and decorated with lion’s heads.  Above the large basin is a rectangular marble column with water spigots on 3 sides, each one placed above a small basin.  This is where so many Lucchese come to fill containers with fresh water direct from the hills beyond Lucca.  Locals swear this water is much better, and much more tasty, than either tap or bottled water.  Some even have a preferred spigot, always filling their bottles from one side of the fountain.   More than just a place to get water, this is also a gathering spot and a place for social connections.

 Above the fountain sits the Naiade who is commonly known by a much less proper nickname.  To locals she is “La Pupporona” which loosely translates to “The Busty One”, so called because of her one exposed breast (in Tuscan dialect the word puppora means breast).  That breast so scandalized a long-ago bishop that he tried to have the statue removed.  Fortunately he did not succeed! 

 The Pupporona is elegant, with softly draped folds in her garments, curvy hips, and perfectly coiffed hair.  She is made even more striking by the backdrop offered by the surrounding buildings, including the oche colored Church of San Salvatore (also known as the Church of the Misericordia).  The piazza where she resides is also named Salvatore, but don’t be surprised to hear it called Piazza della Pupporona, such is her fame.    

 Much loved by locals, she is occasionally adorned with a red scarf, a symbol of support for female victims of domestic violence.  Once, back in 2017, she was vandalized when someone drew a mustache on her face during the night.  Che peccato! The damage was quickly repaired.  I don’t believe the culprits were ever caught, but the vandalism caused quite an uproar. 

 On one of my first visits to Lucca I snapped a photo of the Naiade long before I knew the story behind her creation.  I just knew that she was lovely and she quickly became the representative image of Lucca in my memory.  Today, that photo is one I use as the symbol for Two Parts Italy and which accompanies each Monday morning email to subscribers.  It is still one of my all time favorite photos.  Be sure to stop by this small piazza when you visit Lucca. And don’t forget to fill your water bottle!

The statue of the Pupporona at Christmas time

And Then Came Giotto

I am not an art historian; far from it.  I don’t even claim to be a serious student of art.  And yet, it is impossible to live in Italy and not develop a profound appreciation for art. There are museums full of ancient art – Etruscan and Roman – displaying artifacts from those eras, from tiny jewelry pieces to funeral urns, mosaics, and classic statuary.  And though there were also Roman painters, the examples that have survived are relatively few.  In contrast, paintings from the late Medieval (Middle Age) and Renaissance periods fill Italian churches and museums.  The differences between the two eras can be appreciated by even an untrained observer like myself.

Madonna and Child ca. 1300 artist: Duccio. (photo from Wikimedia Commons Public Domain). An example of painting from the Medieval era.

Prior to the Renaissance, Medieval paintings were characterized by religious subjects, often a single figure filling the center of a painting.  The figures were flat and the faces often expressionless.  The human form was not natural looking or sensuous.  These were icons, not neighbors.

Backgrounds and perspective were not very important components of medieval painting.  And all that gold!  Gold shows up everywhere in Italian art of the middle ages.  In backgrounds, in halos, in elaborate detailing.  Imagine how that gold appeared – as the richness of God, the divine light – and also, perhaps, an symbol of the wealth of the patron or church who commissioned the work.

In contrast, paintings from the Renaissance era (1400 – 1600 AD) make wonderful use of perspective and often place subjects in natural settings.  The figures are realistic, their human-ness evident.  The clothing drapes and swirls, the faces show a full range of emotions.  The subjects are still largely religious, though portraits were also painted, usually for wealthy patrons (think of Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, painted in 1503).  The names of Renaissance artists are familiar: Donatello, Da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Raphael being perhaps the most widely known artists from the 1400’s.

An unfinished Da Vinci portrait painted between 1500 - 1505. La Scapigliata (the word scapigliata refers to her disheveled hair) hangs in the National Museum in Parma, Italy. The difference between this Renaissance painting and earlier Medieval ones is pretty clear!

And in between the two periods, the Medieval and the Renaissance, came Giotto di Bondone (1267-1337). Giotto was that rare artist who was appreciated, even famous, during his lifetime. He even merited a mention by his contemporary Dante in The Divine Comedy. 

 Giotto revolutionized Italian art, creating life-like figures and placing them in more natural settings. Giotto’s figures show a full range of emotions through their facial expressions. No flat, lifeless saints and madonnas here!   Giotto’s scenes are populated by people who look like the neighbors down the street (at least what the neighbors would have looked like in 1300).  His men are placed in realistic poses and settings, his ladies have (gasp!) breasts over which their garments drape. His angels fly, his flames flicker.  And while the saints still have halos of gold, their clothing is colorful and the background is the most heavenly blue. 

Panel # 34. Weeping over the Body of Christ. Scovegni Chapel.

Sadly, much of Giotto’s work has been destroyed, by time and by fire.  Of the works that remain, the Scrovegni Chapel in Padova is Giotto’s capolavoro (masterpiece). A chance to see the frescoes there was the main reason for my trip to Padova last fall. The church is small and intimate, built as a private chapel for the Scrovegni Family.  The frescoes are in wonderful condition, the figures beautiful, and the colors spectacular.

Panel #35. The Resurrection

The frescoes wrap around the chapel, in a three-tiered series of panels, telling stories from the life of Joachim and Anne, Mary, and Christ. The scenes are full of life, there is movement and emotion, the figures pull you in to their story. Through it all Giotto proves to be not just an accomplished artist but a master storyteller as well.

Panels #8 (Presentation of the Virgin), 21 (Baptism of Jesus), and 33 Crucifixion (top to bottom)

The far end of the chapel has the largest scene - the Last Judgement. It is stunning in both its beauty and its brutality. 

To the left, heaven. To the right, a hell that is terrifying!

 Look closely and you will find Enrico Scrovegni, offering up the chapel in atonement for the sin of usary (the Scrovegni family were money lenders). This is no doubt an attempt to avoid Giotto’s graphic depiction of hell.

 Aside from bible tales, the allegories of Virtues and Vices are fascinating. Simplistic in design and color compared with the rest of the frescoes, without much adornment, the contrasting figures are as relevant and thought-provoking today as when painted in the early 1300’s.  Pictured below (left to right): Hope, Envy, Justice, Despair.

The Scrovegni chapel is simply astonishing (my photos can’t capture its majesty).  One does not have to be an art historian, a religious scholar, or even a believer, to appreciate Giotto’s artistic brilliance and the power of these frescoes.  And for anyone with an interest in art, or simply in beauty, the Scrovegni Chapel in Padova is an experience not to be missed.

Detail from panel #33. The Crucifixion

 Even the smallest decorations - such as these quatrefoils - have incredible detail and depth. I could spend hours here looking at everything from the largest scene to the smallest detail. I think I’ll need to go back to Padova before too long.

Note: The Scrovegni Chapel is open to the public with advanced reservation tickets only. Before entering the chapel itself there is a short video (with subtitles in English) which gives a good history of the chapel. Admission is limited to about 25 people at a time with a time limit in the chapel of 15 minutes per group. A short time, but well worth it and sufficient to see this small space (especially after some pre-visit reading).

The Mystery In Italian Details

Italy’s “big picture” is full of things to love - culture, art, architecture, music, food. Everywhere you turn there is something wonderful to be experienced. But sometimes, there is enchantment to be found in the smallest of details and in the little mysteries that no guide book can describe.

I am still amazed that after 3+ years of living in Lucca, I continue to find new small details to appreciate. The iron fixture near my apartment door that I noticed for the first time in April, the decorative brick arch just down the street, a small fountain tucked away in a rarely visited courtyard. Lucca presents a never ending series of discoveries!

Sometimes those little details are just noted in passing. Other times, a bit of mystery draws me back again and again, examining details, feeling intrigued, painting imaginary explanations in my mind. Often this occurs with some of Lucca’s many ruins and abandoned places. How I wish I could explore all the abandoned and locked churches, those ruined buildings with their encroaching vines and empty windows, the slowly decaying wooden doors.

Behind my apartment building lies one of those abandoned places. The mystery is why this one spot - a garage - lies abandoned. It is surrounded on all sides by restored buildings, in fact the rest of the attached building is painted a sunny yellow and is full of apartments, flower boxes, and pretty doors. A simple line of color separates the two spaces.

So why is this place, a garage with old wooden doors, chained shut and abandoned? And is the window above a sign that there might have once been a living space up there? Was it perhaps the home of a carriage driver for one of the surrounding palazzi? A rough apartment for a not-so-favorite relative? A storage space, hay for the horses? Who knows? Certainly not I. But I often find myself stopping to look at it, as if someday I expect the answer to come to me.

There is beauty in this abandoned structure, especially in the small details. My camera loves this space with its rusting bolts, peeling paint, and crumbling wood. I think I will be disappointed if ever anyone comes along and restores it. It is perfect just as it is, mysterious and aged.

A Historic Garden In Collodi, Italy

Collodi is a fairy tale place. It is not the Tuscany of rolling hills, carefully tended vines and olive trees that most people picture when they think of this region. Instead, the small village of Collodi seems to climb straight up a mountainside in the middle of a forest, hanging precariously on the slope. At the top is the medieval fortress La Rocca and a small church. At the bottom is the Villa Garzoni, built on the ruins of a Medieval Castle. An imposing structure, with its yellow color and 100 windows, the villa sits at the entrance to the town of Collodi. The villa itself is not open to the public, nor is the colorful Palazzina d’Estate (Summer Palace) which sits directly behind it. The only part of either that it is possible to enter is the Palazzina’s chapel, pictured below.

And then of course there is Pinocchio. Carlo Lorenzini, the author of Pinocchio, used the pen name Collodi as an homage to this village where his mother once worked. Many families come to Collodi to visit the Parco di Pinocchio (Pinocchio Park), a children’s adventure theme park based on the storybook character. But it was not the Pinocchio story that drew me to Collodi. Instead, I went with friends who were in Italy to visit classic gardens. The historic Giardino Garzoni, dating from the mid-1600’s and completed by the Lucchese architect Ottaviano Diodati in the 17th century, was on their “must see” list. I was delighted to join them for a day of visiting gardens near my home in Lucca.

Looking down on the lowest part of the garden, from an upper terrace

The Garzoni garden is a wonder, with something enchanting to see at every turn as it climbs the steep slope beside the villa. Like many Italian Renaissance gardens there is amazing architectural detail including a dramatic twin staircase (which contains a hidden grotto)

The twin staircases to the upper terraces

Water also plays a starring role in the garden, with a series of fountains and cascades of water tumbling down the slope. Tucked under the stairs is the Grotto of Neptune, another watery feature.

Two round pools lie at the bottom of the garden, just below a parterre full of greenery and flowers. Above that lies the staircase which begins the upward climb through several levels of terrace.

Keep climbing to the water stairs which flank the cascade that runs down to the lower garden. At the top of the climb lies a pool with a statue of Fame, who blows jets of water from a horn in dramatic fashion.

From the top of the water stairs lies a path, lined with camellias, which leads to the villa and the summer palace. This path too is lined with statues and interesting architectural details.

The fantastical nature of the garden reveals itself in places like in Neptune’s grotto, secret pathways and hidden spots, a labyrinth, and statues of mythical creatures and assorted ancient gods, goddesses, and legendary figures.

A visit to the gardens of Villa Garzoni provides a glimpse into leisure activities of a powerful family during the Renaissance. It is one of the finest examples of an Italian Renaissance garden and a lovely destination for anyone interested in classic gardens. A perfect way to spend a spring morning in the Tuscan countryside.

Spring in Pietrasanta: Art, Philosophy, and Giraffes

Pietrasanta has everything a small town in Italy should have - beautiful scenery, a lively main piazza, historic buildings and statues, a lovely church, cafes, and good food. And art. It is the art that draws me back time after time.

One of many whimsical giraffes that can be seen throughout Pietrasanta this month.

Visiting is easy as it is just an hour-long train ride from my home in Lucca. Unless of course, as in my most recent visit, there is an interruption on the tracks, train delays, an extra change of trains, a track in a tiny station with no signage, and you hop on the wrong train and have to double back. But don’t let that discourage you! My friend and I laughed it off and eventually arrived to spend a lovely day in Pietrasanta.

Famous as a center of sculpture (the marble quarries of Carrara are nearby), the town has permanent outdoor installations of bronze and marble sculptures, from smaller pieces to Botero’s massive bronze warrior (below).

In addition to these permanent works, Pietrasanta hosts temporary exhibits which fill the main piazza and nearby spaces (as well as some indoor spots) with an ever-changing display of works by contemporary artists.

The current exhibit, in place until June 5th, features the artistry of Sandro Gorra. Gorra’s background is in commercial art where he worked as an illustrator and creative director for advertising campaigns. That was his work. Today, he concentrates on his art which includes sculpture, illustrations, and a sort of philosophical short poetry which accompanies his works. And then there are his giraffes.

Gorra says that this piece, made from 4 tons of marble, is one of his favorites. A loving mother giraffe tending to her baby.

Why giraffes? According to a published interview with Gorra, the giraffes serve as a parable, representing man’s desire for superiority. A giraffe towers above, looking down on everyone. Each one is unique in his spotted form.

This begs the question - without those spots, what would the giraffe be? Anonymous! Naked!

Change - a predictable part of life - in progress.

Change is inevitable and the spots on Gorra’s giraffes do indeed change. They fade away, they fall off, new ones appear. In fact, during my visit, two men, one looking suspiciously like the artist himself (or was that just my imagination?) were busy painting new spots on two of the giraffes. This would be consistent with Gorra’s view that change is to be expected and that irony is a part of the human (and giraffe) condition.

Alongside the works of art are illustrated phrases, providing an intriguing look into the artist’s mind and bits of his philosophy. I enjoyed these sprigs of wisdom just as much as the sculptures. Both made me smile, both made me think. Isn’t that the best part of art?

Here are some examples (any mistakes in translation are entirely my fault).

Don’t erase it, it is not a stain. It is your sign.

Ideas are always around, but if you don’t notice them they go away

And my favorite one of all - it just may become my personal mantra:

Everyone should read at least one giraffe a day.

A day in Pietrasanta is always a joy. Sipping a cafe in the Piazza del Duomo. Strolling through the piazza and the Chiostro di Sant’Agostino. A quick visit to the beautiful Duomo. Wandering the side streets. A quick stop at the Misericordia Chapel to see Botero’s Heaven and Hell frescoes. A relaxed lunch at a favorite spot. Add in Gorra’s giraffes and the day is just perfect!