11 - Something Old Something New

Sofia sat beside her mother as they rode northward along the Italian coast to the region known as Tuscany. The car curled through the seaside valleys. Vineyards decorated the rolling hills. Leafy green grapevines hung from wooden grape boughs, like clean linen stretched across a clothesline.

Clouds settled along the coast all the way to the port city of Pisa. Sofia knew it by its famous leaning tower and its most famous resident, Galileo Galilei. A trip to Pisa would have to wait for another day, though. Today she was going to Firenze – the Italian city of Florence.

It was only another hour from Pisa to Florence and the Arno River guided the way as Signora Angelino drove east. Rural Italian villas gave way to the Florentine cityscape.

The red roofs of the Italian villas huddled together, so close a person could walk across the city without ever stepping foot on solid ground. The streets were narrow but paved. Motorcycles shared the road with mama’s Fiat. When Signora Angelino crossed the Arno, she reached downtown. Four and five story buildings towered overhead.

“These buildings are nothing like the ones at home,” said Sofia.

“That’s because they were built during the Italian Renaissance in the late 1300s. Roma still recovered from the Dark Ages and the Plague while Firenze became the center of everything Italian. The great artists and architects flourished here.”

“Why didn’t it happen in Rome?”

“You’ll have to ask your Uncle Vittorio Giuseppe. He knows all about it.”

Uncle Vittorio Giuseppe worked as an accountant for the Bank of Italy in Florence. It was likely the most important bank in Italy. In the 14^th Century, it was possibly the most important bank in the entire world.

Frannie parked the car on the street and gave Sofia some coins for the parking meter. They headed into one of the buildings and up the stairs.

Vittorio Giuseppe and his family occupied the third floor of a condominium building. Sofia knocked on the door. Her cousin Antonio answered.

“Tony!” she called gleefully.

“Sophie! Aunt Frannie!”

With a hug, he invited them into the apartment. The apartment house was big and airy.

“Mom baked some Ziti Florentine. Would you like some?”

“I would love some of Aunt Sophia’s homemade Ziti!” said Frannie.

They gathered around the dinner table as Aunt Sophia carefully placed her baking dish in the center of the table. Sofia reached for the baking dish. It was very hot.

“Attenzione Sofie, è caldo!”

Sofia quickly withdrew her hand. After everyone else settled into their places, Uncle Vittorio recited the Lord’s Prayer.

“Padre nostro, che sei nei cieli, sia santificato il tuo Nome. Venga il tuo Regno. La tua volontà sia fatta in terra, come in cielo...”

Aunt Sophia ladled scoops of Baked Ziti Florentine onto little Sofie’s plate first. Sofia waited until everyone was served before digging in. Melted mozzarella covered sun-dried tomatoes, sausage, and the tubular ziti noodles. Everyone was too busy eating to talk, but with Frannie at the table, that did not last long at all.

“Victor Joseph, your niece was wondering about the Italian Renaissance.”

“Ah,” he said, “I know you are from Roma, but Firenze is where Italy had another of its Golden Ages. The Roman Empire was dealing with barbarian invasions from Europe and Asia. Because of this, smaller kingdoms rose in power. Dukes and Lords, who owned large plots of land became richer. Cities developed into city-states, where they ruled heir regions without outside powers like Presdients or the Caesars in Rome.”

“No,” interruped Frannie, “I was talking about the art and arhcitecture.”

“It’s all connected,” said Vittorio, “along with the invasions came a mini Ice Age. The few crops that grew were consumed by wild animals and vermin. Famine and disease, including the Black Plague, spread throughout Asia and Europe, killing many people. With less workers to do jobs, wages increased. This led to the demand of luxury items, like fine art.”

“That’s not what I meant,” interrupted Aunt Frannie, “Let me tell it.”

“The Tuscans had been around a long time before the Italian Renaissance. Before that, there were the Greek and Roman Empires.

The Greeks and Romans were connected by the Etruscans, which is the old name for the people of Tuscany. It is plainly seen today whenever you use pencil and paper.”

Aunt Frannie fished a pencil and pad from her purse and wrote in cursive.

“This is a form of italics – the very word for ancient Italian writing.”

Aunt Frannie then inscribed strange symbols on her writing pad.

“This first row is Greek letters and right below are the same letters in Phoenician. The Greek alphabet, which is similar to the Etruscan alphabet,  was based on ancient Phoeniecian. The Phoenicians came from ancient Palestine, Jordan, and Syria. As these cultures ventured across the Mediterranean, they weren’t just trading goods, but they were trading cultures and ideas, like ancient languages.”

“Buono,” said Victor Joe.

Good, he said. He was referring not only to his sister’s description of things, but the word itself. He explained the variants of the word good for everyone at the table. In Italian, he’d say “buono”; in Spanish, he’d say “bien”; in French, he’d simply say “bon”.

He spoke of the Romance languages: the Italian, Spanish, and French, They emerged together from conquest and trade during the Roman Empire.

“Now we’re really getting off-track, little brother,” said Frannie.

“I thought you started this topic...”

“I did, but I was just talking about the romance of the Italian Renaissance.”

“It’s all...”

“I know,” she interrupted, “it’s all related. The real glory of Italy is here. Firenze is home to the Medici.

Italy was being torn apart by forces from within and brought together by forces from without. The Black Death had created noblemen out of bankers. It had also encouraged the development of the arts. The Medici family financed workshops throughout Florence. Eventually, workshops were set up in every city-state.

Those who mastered their craft controlled their destiny. The rich required both the blacksmiths and the painters to advance their socitety.”

“Venga! Venga!” ordered Victor Joe as he moved towards the large window overlooking Florence and the Arno River. He pointed to a dome rising over the city.

“That is the Duomo Florence. It’s the main Catholic Church here.. Do you see the tiny globe mounted atop that dome?”

Sofia nodded.

“It weighs two metric tons. That’s as much as  six elephants. When the globe was created, the dome had already been built. The problem was getting the globe there. In those days, they didn’t have cranes, so the craftsmen who worked at the same workshop as Leonardo were in charge of getting it there. They built an elaborate system of pulleys and cranes. All these machines were operated by hand. When they succeeded, da Vinci learned a great deal about architectural engineering.”

Francesca extended her left arm.

“You know da Vinci’s famous sketch of ‘Vitruvian Man’, right?”

Sofia nodded.

“It shows how he understood the connection between engineering and art. Like Victor Joe says, ‘it’s all related.’ He knew that to accurately portray all things natural, you have to understand such concepts as dimension and perspective. You have to understand how things are related.”

“I’m your niece!” Sofia proclaimed.

Victor Joe chuckled. “Yes you are. I mean the relationship between distances. In his notebooks, he penned the proportional nature of bodies, whether human or animal. Da Vinci left Florence for Milan. When he was there, he used his engineering experience to sculpt a 24-foot one-piece statue of a horse cast in bronze for the Duke of Milan. That horse would weigh 70 tons – an entire armhy of elephants. Unfortunately, the Duke was dealing with possible invasion from the French, so he used the bronze to make cannons.

Still, Leonardo da Vinci’s greatest works stemmed from his engineering skills. If you look at “The Last Supper”, you see the attention to detail and the relationship between Jesus and the disciples. The human reaction on the faces combining perfectly with the balanced nature of the room itself. I think it is one of the world’s greatest masterpieces.”

“Don’t forget Mona Lisa,” added Aunt Frannie.

“That came later. First, he had to become part of a war machine.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sofia.

“The city-states were warring all through da Vinci’s life. A nobleman named Borgia in Milan employed Leonardo as his military architect. Luckily, it lasted only a year, but da Vinci’s notebooks are filled with sketches and drawings of all sorts of weapons of war. His works on this subject were amazing.”

Victor Joe grabbed a modern crossbow from his gun cabinet and showed it to Sofia. Before Sofia could hold it in her own hands, Frannie stopped him. Vittorio Giuseppe cranked the handle, pulling the crossbow into the ready position.

“Da Vinci always thought on a grand scale. He wanted to build one with a bow about thirteen meters wide. Instead of using crossbow bolts, he wanted his crossbow to fire heavy cannonballs.”

“Phew!” exclaimed Sofia.

“Luckily, not even the man who hired da Vinci as a military architect ultimately kept him around. Who knows what could have happened?”

Uncle Vittorio releaased the tension on the crossbow string and placed it back in its cabinet. Meanwhile, Aunt Sophie cleared the table.

“Would you like some Gelatto for dessert?” she offered.

Everyone’s faces lit up as ready-made bowls emerged from the freezer.

“Let’s enjoy this with a view of the setting sun,” said Victor Joe.

To Sofia, the chilly bites of gelato seemed the perfect end to a long day. By the look on everyone’s faces, it seemed everyone agreed.

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