Lorenzo de’ Medici Institute was named for Lorenzo the Magnificent, a ruler of Florence from the famous Medici family during the Renaissance era; also one of my historical heroes. Besides being a wise and cunning ruler, Lorenzo was also a great patron of the arts, and belonged to a group of people referred to as ‘humanists’: those leaders of the time who supported the ‘rebirth’ and flowering of art, literature, philosophy, religion, science, etc. after the Dark Ages.
And, like most of my heroes, Lorenzo was a skilled with horses and a brave in war.
Marry me, please.
I am moving into my second week of school, and as of my first glance, my classes are proving to be no less ‘Magnificent’ than their namesake.
History this semester is, not surprisingly, ‘The Rise and Fall of the Medici,’ following the family from the 15th to the 17th century. I’m stoked, to say the least. My professor, Romana Priessler, is tall and beautiful with a face of a carved marble Roman statue brought to life. She makes no expression while she speaks ever so slowly, except the faintest hint of a smile when she says:
‘My English is not so great, and you may correct me if you like. But I will correct you on Medici.’
(Italians draw out the first syllable: ‘MAY-de-chi.’)
My history class goes hand-in-hand with my art class, “The Built Environment of Florence.”
(Concordia said I need an art class to graduate anyway, so why not take it in Florence?)
This class, taught by Elisabetta Morici, will mostly cover architecture during the Renaissance period, although our first introductory class was mostly a lecture about the beginnings of the city. It was founded by the Romans and was called ‘Florentia,’ and was built in the valley near the Arno River, where it is today. The native and peace-loving Etruscans were forced up into the hills and settled there.
Florentia can still be seen today: our professor pulled up a map of modern Florence, showed us which roads were Roman, and pointed out where the forum and the amphitheater once stood. The roads still exist, cutting right angles through a city mostly comprised of curving, winding, narrow, crazy-Italian-driver-infested streets. The forum is now the Piazza dell’ Repubblica; I pass near it on my way to school each day. And the remains of the amphitheater can be seen in the steeply slanted road I hike up to get to class; my feet are passing over hundreds of seats now covered by paved roads.
With a half hour left of class, Professor Morici was teaching about the Byzantine walls and towers (over the years, Florence had seven different layers of protective walls built; these were the second set, built just after the fall of the Roman Empire).
In one fluid motion she shut down the computer and grabbed her small leather bag.
‘Let’s go look at them,’ she said.
With wide eyes, all 25 students stood and followed her silently as she led us outside, around the San Lorenzo church, through the Piazza dell’ Repubblica, and down a narrow alleyway.
This is why I am studying abroad, I thought. I peeked at the syllabus: almost every class period in this course will include some type of walking tour or museum/church visit.
Suddenly the street opened up to a small square where several couples were sitting down to lunch, and behind them stood the Torre della Pagliazza, now the Hotel Brunelleschi (rooms start at 950 euro per night–I checked).
There is a small museum in the basement of the original foundations of the tower, too small to take a class of 25. So I returned yesterday and went by myself.
Francecso Petrini is a character. (I’m giving their names mostly for my own benefit, I think–I love the way Italian names roll off my tongue…) Unlike Professor Priessler, Petrini moves his entire face, no, his entire body, when he lectures in class. His accent is quite thick, but it makes me pay attention. Between wild hand motions and the use of the chalkboard, I can usually figure out what he’s talking about.
He teaches my ‘Age of Heroes’ literature class, in which we will be studying Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, and a little of Virgil’s Aeneid. I’ve read the lattermost in its entirety, and loved it, though I am ashamed as a history major to say I have never completely read the other two. But I will soon!
All of my professors, but Professor Petrini in particular, stress that they are not Catholic. For so many years, my education has been specifically Christian, and I have caught myself on more than one occasion assuming that is true for all education. I find it interesting that the professors still adhere to the religious principles of Catholicism, and Petrini even took a large chunk of our class period to make it clear he believed Jesus, whether God or not, was undoubtedly a historical figure. I suppose it is natural for the mind to seek some type of moral compass.
Ornella Pettini teaches my Italian Language class. After one week I can ask someone, ‘How do you say —– in Italian?’ And I can say ‘To be or not to be,’ mostly as a practice for Italian verbs. I don’t think Italians actually walk around saying that .
But I was proud of myself the other day when a random Alessandro sat down next to me outside the Tribunale while I was studying, and I was able to make minimal conversation with him about the weather and the day of the week.
I can also say ‘vino.’ That’s important.