Showing posts with label Vatican Museums. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vatican Museums. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

embellish



At every turn of your head: frescoes, sculptures, mosaics, woodwork, tiles— embellishment beyond belief! The Vatican clearly spared no expense in decorating. There are the monumental works of art (the Raphael Rooms and the Sistine Chapel), and there are the various halls that are painted from nearly top to bottom in figures, beasts, and lots of colour.



The tiled floor above reminded me so much of Portugal... like walking up azulejo-covered walls, defying gravity. Then there was this little fellow, whom we discovered perched atop a line of red:

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

the school of athens



Beautiful Raphael, the bold and ambitious, still staring back at us from within his masterpiece, nearly lost among the bustling bodies of great philosophers— rooms away from the work he so admired, painted by his bitter rival. It is said that when Raphael sneaked into the Sistine Chapel to catch a glimpse of Michelangelo's progress one night, he was so taken by what he had seen that he decided to include a portrait of the temperamental artist within his own fresco, front and center. While others are engaged in fierce debates or study texts, Michelangelo, representing the Greek philosopher Heraclitus, seems adrift in thought— his body powerful beneath his smock, as muscular as the figures in his magnificent ceiling.



It seems cruel that Raphael was only given thirty-seven years on this earth, but oh how much he managed to give us in that short amount of time...

Monday, August 8, 2016

laocoön



Laocoön and your pretty sons, the twisting of your flesh and serpents entwined in your limbs still command awe— were you the ones looked upon by Pliny himself? How many eyes have studied the lines of your agony since your creation?

a dream realized



Among my bedtime stories were my mother's art books. I have wanted this ever since I can remember.



The older I get, the more aware I am of how brief our time is. I suppose it's only natural. While staring up at the twists of spine and muscle so beautifully painted over 500 years ago, loved by so many, my vision became hot and blurred.



I am so utterly grateful.