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Size matters.
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Florence values art. Some people visit and wax poetic about the ambiance for years to come. And they build it up. A lot. They'll tell you over and over just how much you'll love it.
And you will! Just as soon as you can get people to shut up about how great the city is.
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| but we'll burn that bridge when we come to it |
If you happen to go to Florence, sooner or later you're going to see Michelangelo's David. But if you don't want to pony up some cash to see the original, there are two fine copies around the city. One of the copies overlooks the city.
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| And he has a pretty good view. |
The other copy lives in the Piazza della Signoria. The Piazza is so full of statues you'll wonder if Medusa walked around checking out very active guys with sixpack abs.
But then you'll see her severed head is looking at tourists instead.
Consequently, they stand frozen, taking pictures of statues. Especially the David.
No matter how you feel about David's weak crumbling ankles and souvenir sales of his anatomically correct boxer shorts, the statue says something. And that something is: hey Goliath, who's got five stones and is about to cut off your head? This guy.
But that's just one statue. Every statue in the Piazza tells a story. And pretty much all the stories are about brutal murder or rape.
And thus is the true joy of Florence revealed: stone statues tell you stories instead of stoned tour guides!
The Top Five Violent Stone Statue Stories of Florence as Told by a Drunk Tour Guide!
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| Because one Xena isn't enough... Pio Fedi, (1865) Rape of Polyxena, or, PG version, Phyrrus(Neoptolemus) and Polyxena |
Polyxena: You'll never believe it! A flaw! Achilles' heel--!
Paris & Deiphobus: Duh. He killed our brother and is besieging our city. We know Achilles is a heel.
Polyxena: He's not a--shut up. Achilles' heel is his Achilles' heel! You can KILL him with a poisoned arrow in his heel!
So they do that.
Needless to say, ghost-Achilles is pissed, so he tells his son Neoptolemus that he is a failure of a son if he doesn't make the funeral a party. And to make it a party, all he has to do is sacrifice Polyxena on top of corpse-Achilles' grave. Neo says 'k, and he steals her away, because the Trojans are too accepting of horses. Since most of Polyxena's family is dead by this point anyway, she's all, fine, if you must. And her chastity is SAVED because, sitting on top of Achilles' tomb, she strategically rearranged her dress to make sure she won't flash the audience when they slit her throat and her corpse falls over.
The moral of this story is: you can bring a horse to water, but you can't prevent a bunch of Greeks from climbing out in the middle of the night and killing everyone.
2. Judith Beheading Holofernes!
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| Don't worry, Holo-man, you won't feel a thing, you drunk! Donatello (Ninja Turtle) (1988 copy of 1460 work) |
So this Assyrian General, Holofernes, is roving about the countryside occupying the sea coast and destroying local gods on behalf of Nebuchadnezzar. Now, Holofernes has been warned against attacking the Chosen people that live in a city called Bethulia, so he immediately decides to attack the Chosen people in Bethulia. Holofernes rolls up to the town and says: If you're so chosen, how did I just cut off your water supply? Mwa-ha-ha-ha, motherfuckers! Consequently, the leadership of poor Bethulia gets together and has a council meeting along the lines of oh shit, we're going to run out of water in five days. Friends and neighbors, sorry, we're probably going to have to surrender. Unless we have a hero. The townspeople look awkwardly around for a hero. Judith, a beautiful widow of the city, stands up and clears her throat. The men roll their eyes and keep talking: And that will suck, because we'll have to bow to Nebuchadnezzer, who thinks he's a god. Judith rolls her eyes, and interrupts: come on guys, think outside the box. Or think inside the box. Or just about boxes, if you know what I mean. And we can put this General in a box. Council: What? Judith: Nevermind. Just calm down. I got this.
So Holofernes spends a day checking out the city to decide if it is worth capturing, crushing, or grinding into flour to make bread. But, being a well-rounded individual, the general is not too distracted by crushing to notice this hot chick making eyes at him. So Holofernes looks at Judith and he says hey lady, you should come by the camp later. I can pitch a tent if you know what I mean wink wink. And Judith is like, Oh, yes, Holofernes! But I hope you plan to pregame this thing. I know I will! So she spends a good half an evening putting on makeup and checking her watch to make sure she's arriving good and fashionably late, leaving poor Holofernes pregaming sad and alone in his tent until the moment she walks in, sex appeal up to her eyeballs. She instantly challenges Holofernes into a drinking contest with himself, and he readily agrees. Hours later, Holofernes is wobbling on his feet, and he turns to her and says Hey hottie, is that a sword in your skirt or are you just happy to see me? Then he promptly faceplants onto the bed/floor. So Judith heaves a huge sigh of relief that he was too drunk to get all handsy and compromise her honor. What a gentleman/drunk, she murmurs. Then she takes her sword out of her dress and cuts off his head. She gives it to an old woman servant to carry it to city council in a handbasket. And the city is saved!
The moral of this story is: there's more than one way to get a head in life.
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| Bad-idea soccer ball. Benvenuto Cellini, Perseus with the Head of Medusa (1545) |
(Good question, Perseus. Basically an ugly chick with hair made of snakes and eyes that turn you to stone. There are some stories that Medusa and the gorgons sprang into being out of hate. Ovid prefers the more problematic version, in which Poseidon rapes the gorgeous Medusa in Athena's temple, which enrages Athena, so she turns Medusa's face stone-ugly and her hair to snakes. One might consider this victim-blaming and a misplaced punishment. However, this negative interpretation disregards how cool it would be to have hairsnakes.)
So Perseus goes out and quests and finds three old women with only one eye between them, and steals it when one is handing it to another. And he's like Listen up witches! Lead me to some nymphs that will give me stuff to defeat Medusa, or it's Ping-Pong. And they're like fine, we'll take you there, but seriously how can we see to walk? Somehow they all manage to get to the nymphs. He lets the old ladies go, and it's Christmas for Perseus. The gods got his memo, and he has to sit around for hours, unwrapping gifts from the gods. From Athena, a mirror-polished shield, Hermes, some cool shoes that fly, Zeus an adamantine sword and Hade's helmet of invisibility. Oh, and a bag to store the gorgon's head.
So Perseus walks through a field of stone statues of men until he gets to the gorgon lair. He thinks a lot about what pose he would like to be as a statue, then wises up and starts walking backwards, using Athena's mirror. Perseus follows the sounds of snakes snoring to find Medusa sleeping, and decapitates her. Success! Win! And after this great act of heroism,everything continues to work out for male privilege Perseus.
The moral of the story is: there's more than one way to get a head of snakes.
So...as near as I can figure, this fight didn't actually happen as seen above. It would have gone a whole lot better for everyone involved if Hercules had killed Nessus with a blunt object in single combat. Bloodless coup. But that's NOT what happened.
The problem was...so there's this Centaur, Nessus, who's kind of a jerk. One day Hurcules and his second wife Deianira decide to cross a river. Nessus, chillin nearby kindly offers to give them a ride. So he picks up Deianira and takes her across a river. And then tries to take her, across the river, if you know what I mean. Seeing this about to happen from the other bank, Hercules says nope, whole lotta nope, and shoots Nessus with an arrow tipped in poison from the Hydra.
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| This was one block of marble. Giambologna, The Rape of the Sabine Women (1574-82) |
So there's this king, Numitor, who has a daughter named Rhea Silvia. Unfortunately for Rhea, her brother, Amulius, is a jerk, and kills all the king's male heirs and forces her to be a vestal virgin. But the god of war doesn't care, and bam! She's knocked up and gives birth to twins named Romulus and Remus. Unfortunately for Rhea, Amulius finds out. So Rhea's like but really, the gods made them you can't kill them. And Amulius is all watch me, I'm throwing them in the river!
Unfortunately for Amulius, the babies wash downstream where they are picked up and nursed back to health by a lactating she-wolf and a friendly woodpecker. Then some shepards. But you can't keep royalty down, and the brothers decide they need to found a city.
Romulus: Hey, let's found a city on Palentine Hill.
Remus: That's stupid. We should found it on Aventine Hill.
Romulus: It seems like I'll win this argument if you're dead.
Remus: *dead* Yeah, probably.
So Romulus founds the city and Rome flourishes into being! Male refugees come from all over to join his army and glory in the burgeoning republic! But deep down, Romulus realizes that something is missing.
Romulus: *sigh* Oh ghost-Remus, something is incomplete in my world.
Ghost-Remus: Oh, what ever is the matter brother? Do you feel like you're all alone in the world. Like your other half is missing? I wonder why that could--
Romulus: You're right! I need a lady-friend.
Ghost-Remus: Not really what I was getting at. I think you should admit you were wrong to--
Romulus: Yes, a lady-friend. I need a lady-friend. My citizens all need lady-friends. We'll steal some lady-friends from the Sabine tribe nearby. Thanks for your advice Ghost-Remus!
Ghost-Remus: *sigh*
And so Romulus and his posse of Romans abduct all these women from the Neptune Equester festival and offer them all the chance of honorable marriage. And everyone is happy, except for everyone that didn't really want to be abducted, and everyone that dies in the ensuing war.
The moral of this story is: nutritional deficits in wolf-milk just might leave children with some developmental impairments.
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| A great example of "Torso Torsion" which would be a great band name. Giambologna (1599), Heracles and Nessus |
The problem was...so there's this Centaur, Nessus, who's kind of a jerk. One day Hurcules and his second wife Deianira decide to cross a river. Nessus, chillin nearby kindly offers to give them a ride. So he picks up Deianira and takes her across a river. And then tries to take her, across the river, if you know what I mean. Seeing this about to happen from the other bank, Hercules says nope, whole lotta nope, and shoots Nessus with an arrow tipped in poison from the Hydra.
With his dying breath Nessus turns to his would-be victim and whispers: hey girl, I know I was about to ravage you and all, but you can trust me. As a reward for all of this, you can use my blood to make Hercules love you forever. And Deianira says: well, I guess it can't hurt to just keep some centaur blood around forever just in case. And that's not weird, because Hercules did the same thing with that Hydra poison.
So they go on with their journey and the centaur's dead and everything's great. Fast-forward years or something. So Hercules is hot stuff, and Deianira knows this. So when she sees him making eyes at some other woman, she thinks, hey, I'd better put some Centaur blood on his shirt when he goes and hangs out with his friends today. And when he puts on the shirt he burns with poison and jumps into a fire and dies.
The moral to this story is: Don't wear shirts. Shirts will kill you.
6. The Common Man takes His Last Step!
Ok, this is on a nearby bridge, not in the Piazza. But a suicide statue seemed to fit the list.
So once upon a time, there is a very common man who is full of angst and vandalizes street signs into clever pictures that make you rethink signs and symbols and space. But one day he decides, in a cubist and abstracted sense, that life isn't worth living, so he cleverly put this statue on a bridge without the permission of authorities, in a cry for help. Fortunately for him, the statue is rescued, because suicide and unwanted statuary are against the law. But everyone loved it, so the statue went right back up about to take that fatal step.
And to this day, the common man has failed to complete his suicide.
It's probably the only thing in Florence not based on myth.
The moral of this story is: contemporary art is too postmodern to convey narrative, which sucks for storytelling.
So go to Florence. Enjoy the statues. It's an idyllic location to mull over this subtext of brutal history and death while you subsist on a diet of cannoli and gelato. Maybe, maybe, Florence can win you over despite the hype.
6. The Common Man takes His Last Step!
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| One small step for mankind... Chet Abraham (2011) Common Man |
Ok, this is on a nearby bridge, not in the Piazza. But a suicide statue seemed to fit the list.
So once upon a time, there is a very common man who is full of angst and vandalizes street signs into clever pictures that make you rethink signs and symbols and space. But one day he decides, in a cubist and abstracted sense, that life isn't worth living, so he cleverly put this statue on a bridge without the permission of authorities, in a cry for help. Fortunately for him, the statue is rescued, because suicide and unwanted statuary are against the law. But everyone loved it, so the statue went right back up about to take that fatal step.
And to this day, the common man has failed to complete his suicide.
It's probably the only thing in Florence not based on myth.
The moral of this story is: contemporary art is too postmodern to convey narrative, which sucks for storytelling.
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| Afterall, it does have a river of fire. |
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