14 January 2008

Well, since there are actually few endeavors I prefer to writing, and my cell phone died while I was talking to my mum, I decided to eke out another entry. Besides, this was my first day of classes, so I’ve got plenty to talk about.

I woke up super early this morning (and by super early, I mean 7:30) and had mozzarella, olive oil and vinegar on bread. Not orthodox, that’s for sure, but certainly better than anything else I could have eaten.

Since we didn’t have class until noon, my roommate and I finally went on the cleaning supplies run because we’re just cool like that. We went to Conad, the Fairway of Florence, and spent about 30 minutes trying to figure out what we needed and what all the products even were. When you don’t know the language, even identifying toilet bowl cleaner can be difficult. We eventually went with the green bottle with the toilet bowl on it. My roommate also bought air freshener and sprayed it all around the apartment when we got back. Which made me gag a little.

My noon class was Italian. Our teacher’s name is Marta Martini. Which is one of the best names I’ve ever heard. That and Coco Crisp, the guy on the Red Sox. We went over the extreme basics—greetings (Buon Giorno! Buona Sera!), pronouns, and the verb avere, “to have”. We’re supposed to memorize all that for tomorrow’s class, but, honestly, I’d rather not. After all, there is a very important reason I’m taking four studio art classes. Little to no homework.

Then I got lost trying to find my way back to the main building, for a class I should have been at five minutes before I was let out of Italian. So I was about 20 minutes late for beginning sculpture. The teacher’s name is Dario, and he’s a pretty cool guy. He’s small, looks at the ground a lot when he talks, and speaks English in that stereotypical foreigner way.

After Dario treated us to a long spiel, he took us to the San Lorenzo church to look at some Donatello works. While we were walking across the San Lorenzo Piazza, I kept thinking about the part in A Room with a View when Lucy witnesses a murder. I wonder if can figure out where that scene took place. Well, according to someone online (so, clearly a reliable source), the square was the Piazza Signoria. Which is about three blocks from my apartment. Score!

Back to the field trip—it goes without saying that the church was amazing, but I might as well say so anyway. The church was amazing. Dario told us how, in Florence, most architecture is in various hues of grey, whereas in Venice, everything is bright and cheerful. Having witnessed both, I’m surprised to say that I prefer the understated beauty of Florentine carvings. I feel there’s more profundity in making something beautiful out of something that would otherwise be drab.

In one side-chamber of the church, we stared up at some of Donatello’s carvings that had been partially painted. Dario told us that Donatello had a disagreement with the painter (whose name I have unfortunately forgotten—actually, I don’t think I ever heard it; Dario mostly whispered in the church) because he thought the color messed up the lines of his carvings. Apparently the two never spoke again.

On our return to the sculpture classroom—which is on the edge of the garden in the main SACI building—we started work on the first of two big projects. The seven of us spent roughly an hour and a half pounding out large flat slabs of clay. It was fantastic. I often forget how much I love those basic elements of art. Working with one’s hands is really one of the most vital parts of life that we, as a technologically advancing species, have really lost touch with.

When sculpture was over, I went upstairs for beginning drawing. Because I’ve never taken a “college level” drawing course, I was told I couldn’t enroll in intermediate. I had resigned myself to the beginning level because I figured drawing is drawing, one can make it as hard or as easy as one wants. And then I looked over the syllabus. So currently I am trying to skirt that “college level” roadblock.

Now that I’ve successfully talked about my drawing prowess in a conceited way, I believe it is time to cut this entry short. It’s getting late, and I’m really tired. As per usual.