Final reflections of my semester study abroad in Italy

I thought that this would be the easiest piece for me to write, but it’s turning out to be the most challenging.  I hardly know where to begin. I was not sure I would even be able to go on this study abroad for 3 months, mostly in part to a family crisis that happened in the previous Fall semester that almost ended up being a tragedy. I will explain more about that in a bit. Ultimately, it made me appreciate and savor my experiences in Italy - the good and the “could’ve been better” - all the more. This was one of those big opportunities in life that I had at my grasp to make the most of, and I didn’t want to take a single moment for granted.

Over a year ago, when my philosophy professor first told me about this “experimental” 3-month study abroad that Armstrong was going to be trying out with the Dante Alighieri Institute in Siena - a school they had partnered with in the past for shorter programs - I knew immediately that this was something I wanted to do and for the next few months, I continued to think about it, even in the midst of getting ready to do a 2-week study abroad in France.

My last spring semester went by fairly smoothly, and I felt rewarded by ending another grueling semester successfully with my 4.0 GPA still intact by going on a study abroad trip to France. It felt deserved, and I was also going with several good friends and a few other acquaintances from French class. It was a fairly large group - 13 of us, plus our professor - but we had a great chemistry among us and bonded enough that I believe several of us will be friends for a long time; maybe even beyond our days at Armstrong.

I started the summer off equally well. Immediately after returning from France, I departed for Los Angeles where I would begin a coveted summer internship with a production company founded by producers and executives who had worked for the biggest Hollywood studios and won major awards for their film and TV projects. I completed it successfully (with a job offer on the table post-graduation), came back to Savannah to enjoy the rest of the summer with my boyfriend, and also to resume the last of my flight training needed to finally earn my long-sought pilot’s license. I received it in August near the end of the summer. It was another hugely important lifetime goal that I had successfully achieved for myself in 2016, but the year was not over.

As well as the first half of 2016 went for me, the second half went in nearly the complete opposite direction; it was almost a disaster. Very early morning on September 26th, I woke up to a text notification from my sister that my only brother and youngest sibling, Vincent, had been in a catastrophic flight accident while piloting a small aircraft. He sustained severe injuries, and it was not certain if he would even make it past the next couple of days. I immediately flew to Jackson, MS, and sat in between two other passengers with tears silently streaming, unsure if my brother would even be alive when I got there.

To shorten what could become a longer story, my brother pulled through. Despite the ordeal of severe blood loss, multiple internal broken bones, a developing systemic infection, and ultimately a right leg below-the-knee amputation, my tough younger brother survived, and he did so despite refusing to accept a strongly urged blood transfusion. It had almost become a nightmare for us all. The ordeal wasn't over for him or any of us who had stayed close by his side for several months, but he made it through the worst and so had we. Due to the crisis, however, I had to drop two classes so that I could stay near my brother and help out the rest of my family to support him. It had also taken a toll on us financially. At the encouragement of friends, I later created and promoted a GoFundMe campaign for Vincent to help raise money for him and my parents with social media community funding. After all of this, I had serious doubts that I would be able to go to Italy. Not after everything my family had sacrificed, including my boyfriend with his help getting me back and forth from Savannah to Jackson, and most of all, knowing what my brother would be facing with the stark reality of his new circumstance.

Once I realized he was on his way physically and that the rest of my family might be ok as well, I started to consider my own life, and I began to think about Italy again. After several conversations with my professor who was directing and coordinating the program, I bit the bullet, and I made my first deposit. I was committed.

Around that time, the general campaign for the Presidency had come to a close, and Donald Trump was elected. Fast-forwarding a couple of months, I began my journey to Italy on January 20th, the date of Trump’s inauguration. My first few months in Italy would be his first few months as President.

I’ve covered a lot of the details about my various travels within Italy as well as outside it when I traveled briefly to Greece and Switzerland in addition, but I wanted to follow up with some of the highlights of my time there in this final reflection.

It has always been one of my biggest dreams to visit Italy. There are many places still that I would love to see, and I’ve already been able to knock a few off my traveling wish list. However, Italy was at the top. It is the country I’m the most closely connected to because of my ancestry and also because of the fascinating and complicated (even controversial) history it has as a world leader in art, science, and civilization.

I have always been a fan of the Renaissance Age and, in particular, Leonardo da Vinci. I admire how he has always been the foremost historical figure at the intersection of art and science. He is known not only for painting masterpieces such as The Vitruvian Man and Mona Lisa but also for being an early engineer of sorts, with sketches of his found that show prototype designs for aviation machines. In many ways, I have tried to model my own life to be the same way. In my social networks, I am known for being an actress and artist and in more recent years, a writer, but I am also known as an aspiring pilot and aviation and space science enthusiast. I actually had serious considerations about pursuing aerospace engineering or physics, but due to some life circumstances (and an intense 4-week pre-calculus course that didn’t go as well as I’d hoped), I decided to instead pursue an English/Professional Communications major and maybe make my contributions to science by developing writing and filming projects inspired by scientific topics, thereby doing my part to increase public enthusiasm and support, especially for the aerospace sciences.

During my art history and appreciation course, I learned how art and science complimented each other with Renaissance artists like Michelangelo, Leonardo, and Botticelli inserting “codes” for other artists within their paintings to show what they had discovered about the human body after secretively opening up cadavers, which was forbidden by the Catholic Church. For instance, in Botticelli’s La Primavera, behind the Roman goddess, Venus, the leaves of the garden form what appears to be the shape of human lungs. Another example is the Vitruvian Man by Leonardo da Vinci, which is an artistic study of human anatomy and physiology. Finally, there is what may be considered the mostly widely viewed and celebrated masterpiece: the scene of God and Adam with their fingers outstretched and almost touching each other at the center of Michelangelo’s majestic frescoes on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Rome. There is what seems to be the unmistakable outline of a human brain formed by angels and red robes surrounding God. Some theorists have proposed the hypothesis that this scene is symbolic of God, the head of all creation, bestowing intelligence on the first human.

During my anthropology course, which was a study of the history and sociology of Siena, I learned a lot about the Etruscan civilization, which pre-dated and influenced ancient Rome, and it made a big impression on me, especially what I learned about Etruscan women. They enjoyed eating well, dressed extravagantly, and lived freely as equals among the men. I even bought some big bold jewelry while I was there, including a few sets of earrings that were mismatched but still meant to compliment each other. (One of the sets is a “lock” on one side and a “key” on the other, made in Rome from recycled aluminum; it suits the bohemian environmentalist in me.) Learning about the Etruscan women influenced me to feel more confident about living life fully and freely, making my own informed and independent choices, being a strong leader when the occasion calls for it, but also being comfortable following others when they have good ideas and clear direction.

Although not part of the course, I was motivated to study more about ancient Greek civilizations and art history while I was there because of how much the Greeks influenced the Roman culture. After reading and learning about important sculptures like The Calf-Bearer and The Kritios Boy, which were found around the Acropolis, I decided to go to Athens where these masterpieces were kept so I could see them for myself. I especially appreciated The Kritios Boy. It made an impact on me. The young man is missing the lower half of his right leg, which reminded me of my brother. He stands straight and tall, and his eyes gaze ahead calmly and self-confidently. What is interesting about this sculpture, dated around 480 B.C.E., is that it represents a transitional piece between two major ages of Greek history: the Late Archaic period to the Early Classical period. I reflected on what could represent a transitional moment in a person’s life; that time when you could see the effects of change on someone, for better or worse, after they’ve been through a significant event.

The hardest part for me about being in Italy was being away from my loved ones and feeling guilty. I felt guilty that I was able to spend this time learning and studying other cultures with few responsibilities except completing my assignments, and even those deadlines had a certain amount of flexibility. But I realized that this was part of the transition of life; sometimes things go from difficult and challenging to pleasant and rewarding and then back again. It is like that for the entirety of life, but every experience, good and bad, is something that can be learned from to apply to the next.

My studies of the various states of flux that the civilizations in ancient Greece and Italy induced me to reflect deeply, not only about my own personal transitions from one phase to another or that of my nearest and dearest, but also of those happening within my own country and outside it. I saw a lot of parallels about the disputes between Athens and Sparta which led to the Peloponnesian War, as well as the events leading up to the dissolution of the great Roman Empire, which left it vulnerable to invasion from outside forces. Where it will all lead to, what we will lose in the process, and what will be the ultimate result, I don’t know. However, I feel sure that after my experience abroad, where I was able to devote most of my time undistracted to study and make connections, I will be more observant than ever before to watch how things unfold and to see if worldwide civilization today is possibly at the end of an age and in transition to begin a new one. We are creatures of re-invention, after all. It will be interesting to see where we go next and what we will become.

Language

“Our language is the reflection of ourselves. A language is an exact reflection of the character and growth of its speakers.” CESAR CHAVEZ

“Learning a foreign language, and the culture that goes with it, is one of the most useful things we can do to broaden the empathy and the imaginative sympathy and cultural outlook of children.” MICHAEL GOVE

“To handle a language skillfully is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.” CHARLES BAUDELAIRE

“Yankees don’t understand that the Southern way of talking is a language of nuance. What we can do in the South is we can take a word and change it just a little bit and make it mean something altogether different.” LEWIS GRIZZARD

“Even in the deepest love relationship - when lovers say ‘I love you’ to each other - we don’t really know what we’re saying, because language isn’t equal to the complexity of human emotions.” DUANE MICHALS

“Welsh is my mother tongue, and my children speak it. If you come and live in this community you’ll work out pretty quickly that it’s beneficial to learn the language, because if you’re going to the pub or a cafe you need to be a part of the local life.” BRYN TERFEL

“We have our own history, our own language, our own culture. But our destiny is also tied up with the destinies of other people - history has made us all South Africans.” MANGOSUTHU BUTHELEZI

When traveling throughout Italy, I found it to be a curious matter that English was not as universal throughout the country as I thought it would be, even in larger cities such as Rome and in particular, Naples. For me, this was a welcome challenge - a thorn on the rose stem, so-to- speak - as I navigated my way down the meandering pathways one takes to explore the diverse gardens of foreign language. At times it is uncomfortable and even tiresome, but it is mostly rewarding.

My quest to become proficient in several tongues apart from my native one began years ago when I had a Canadian tutor, Ms. Agnes Manbourdon, who taught me French. I would meet with her at her apartment near the water at the Ross Barnett Reservoir in Jackson, Mississippi and over café au laits we would conjugate French verbs and exchange common French expressions for approximately an hour. Afterwards, I would go to my second job at St. Dominic Hospital to transcribe radiology reports - medical terminology is a language to learn in itself.

Before meeting with her, I had an early morning job at the Jackson International Airport working as a ticket agent, and it should be mentioned that at this time I had begun to take pilot lessons, so I was also learning the language of aviation. After some time, Ms. Manbourdon went on her annual trip back to Canada for a month or so, and we lost track. I never saw her again. Later that same year, I began taking Japanese lessons with Ms. Eiko Tashiro, who became my sensei for a little while. We would meet at her house for a lesson in Japanese language and a Japanese tea ceremony. Sometimes we would practice origami. Along with learning her language, I was learning her culture. Again, due to certain circumstances which I do not remember, we also lost track, and I never saw her again either.

Two years ago, I began taking French lessons formally at the university level. I have since traveled to France to study abroad for several weeks and am most likely going to pursue French for my college minor. While in France, I discovered that there is more to learning a language than memorizing vocabulary and verbal conjugations, and it is not enough to merely practice vowel sounds. There is a cadence and a rhythm to being French that is sensed in more than the language and speech itself; it is embodied in the culture of France, and the sooner one picks up on that rhythm, the easier it will go for them to learn the language.

I found this to be the case also while I was in Italy for several months and because of the lessons that were ingrained while learning French and being in France, I found that picking up Italian came much swifter to me. I embraced the nuances of the language and the cultural rhythm of Italian daily life which varies throughout Italy. The fact that the majority of my ancestry is French and Italian motivates my enthusiasm to learn both of these languages the most, because I want them to be considered part of my identity.

There was a young man I met from Ghana, Africa in my last few weeks of being in Siena, Italy named Mr. Nartey. He specialized in International Relations and Language and was working on getting his Master’s Degree while in Tuscany. He shared a paper with me that he had written about Pidgin English, which is commonly spoken in Ghana. He explained to me that Pidgin English lacks inflection but is a more efficient language. Where standard grammatical structure and inflection for past tense in a verb has been dropped, it has evolved to become a more simplified language to get the point across. For instance, instead of one saying “I went there,” they might say “I go there.” This has been found to be a growing trend particularly in schools in Ghana. In order to avoid grammatical errors, students will resort to using Pidgin. It is a more straightforward English. I inquired as to how Pidgin English was developed and why it started to be used in Ghana. He explained to me that “those who write the books” - or the history of Africa - threw out tradition when Africa was colonized. The colonial masters decided to document certain things down. They claimed that the language was simplified. This is the way he put it to me: “The person doing the writing will write it in a way that you expect it to be written.” Over the years, it was almost as though there were two languages in Ghana: the language that was taught, and the one that was acquired. The first language is the one you use to reflect certain ways you were influenced (British colonialism). Pidgin was acquired to reflect a language that is closer to the native tongue. During a military regime, students also observed soldiers in the streets using Pidgin English and therefore they began assigning machoism, aggression, and power to the usage of Pidgin. Therefore, the trend of students in Ghana using Pidgin began to grow and increase as a means of adopting an identity and also to defy the performance pressures put on them to use proper English.

In the United States, there are similar debates and differing opinions on what is or should be considered proper standard English and what has evolved into deviated versions of it. I recall reading a passage of critical theory written by Lois Tyson regarding Black Vernacular English (BVE, also called Ebonics or African American English), which fulfills all the grammatical criteria of a genuine language but is still dismissed by many white and some black Americans as substandard or incorrect English rather than recognized as a language in its own right; a language that may have evolved due to what is known as double consciousness or double vision, the awareness of belonging to two conflicting cultures: the African culture, which grew from African roots and was transformed by its own unique history on American soil, and the European culture imposed by white America.

It has occurred to me that a regional or local language can evolve into more than mere vocabulary from the root words it shares with the original language. For example, even though each region in Italy has its own pride and claim to what is “the best” - “Napoli has the best coffee and pizza,” “Liguria has the best pesto and anchovies,” etc. - it is common opinion that Tuscany boasts the usage of the pure Italian language. Whereas a native Tuscan might use the formally taught phrase “Sono di Firenze,” a Roman would shorten the phrase a bit to a more efficient “So di Roma” to express where he or she is from. Recently, I grappled with the choice of whether to use the spelling of “favourite,” which is the proper English way to spell the word to express my preferred flavor, versus “favorite” which is the more popular American spelling. Although I was tempted to use “favourite” as my preferred spelling of choice, I instead went with “favorite” so as to not falsely identify myself as British when I am, in fact, American. So language - by way of spelling, inflection, gesture, nuance, rhythm, and pronunciation - is the foremost way of identifying oneself and, in some ways, his or her worldview.

In a way, it almost seems as though Pidgin is used in some measures in Ghana to defy the colonial influences and to reclaim their native tongue and therefore their culture. Mr. Nartey’s opinion is that though Ghanians speak Pidgin, English is their official language, and it should not be compromised. At the same time, he reflected that someone else’s point of view might be that Pidgin English is part of a Ghanian’s identity and that they need to be proud. Indeed, after I said goodbye to this intelligent young man, I observed him walk to his bus stop with a quick long stride as efficient, straightforward, and proud as the hybrid makeshift English language he had described. 

Dark Star Safari

I have very mixed feelings about this book. For starters, I wasn’t able to complete it; I got about halfway through it, with detailed notes in the margins, but unfortunately I left the book in my apartment the day that I left to return back to the United States. So for the purposes of this short reflection, I will try to recall the highlights of what stood out to me from my reading of this novel.

One thing that I can definitely say about this book is that it is a page-turner. I found it to be a lot more interesting to read than the other two travel writing novels I read while in Italy - Perseus in the Wind by Freya Stark and certainly more than Italian Hours by Henry James. Paul Theroux gives a riveting personal tale of his journey from Cairo to Cape Town with a dry, sometimes cynical, humor. I laughed at some accounts and shook my head at others.

This book is a bit controversial and maybe even problematic for some to read, which is expected to be the case when you have a white American or European author describing his experiences of traveling throughout the countries in Africa, especially with the tone of being an “authority” without having actual lived experience. No matter what he encountered while there, he speaks from the vantage point of a privileged older white male and cannot separate himself from that nor could his reader. I recall a classmate saying “I would like to read a book like this that had been written by someone else.” (In other words, not a privileged white male.) I couldn’t help but think to myself “If someone else had written this book word-for-word, verbatim, even in the exact style that Paul Theroux wrote it, your reader-response would likely be different and maybe even more accepting.”

This novel is a great text for critical analysis using reader-response or even deconstruction theory. I feel almost certain that the people who felt a negative response to Theroux’s text, to the point that they found it problematic, were influenced more by the fact that they could not separate Theroux himself from his text rather than his writing delivery. But that is my reader-response on the people themselves who read this book, which is why my thoughts are subjective and neither right nor wrong, just like Theroux himself and others who read his accounts.

All of the above having been said, here are some of the things that I did question about Theroux’s judgements on what he and others may find problematic about Africa. One of the issues Theroux brings up frequently throughout his book is that of the aid programs in Africa which are monuments to European and American failure. (I did not put that phrase in quotes, because I cannot remember if those are his words or mine, but that is the implication that I got from Theroux when I read his accounts.) He rants and makes sardonic comments about aid workers in “white cars playing loud music” who don’t offer to give him rides. (He mentions this a couple of times when encountering other white travelers from Europe or America.) Theroux talks about the failure of aid programs as though he is an authority; however, unless he brings it up later in the book, which I only got through half, I don’t believe he ever mentions even visiting one of the aid projects or program offices.

Another thing that stood out to me was the text Theroux uses to try to convey the tone and pronunciation of the way someone from Egypt or the Sudan would talk to him. For instance, if someone said “There is no work here,” the text Theroux would provide to the reader would be something like this: Dey eez nuh wuk heah. (That is my best attempt to give an example since I do not have the book here in front of me to transcribe exactly as it is written; that is just my recall.) I made a connection to how Europeans and Americans perceive people from Africa based on the communication delivery and grasp of English language when I met a young man from Ghana who is living in Siena to finish earning his master’s degree. He specializes currently in the study of the trend of using Pidgin English in Ghana and how he believes it is compromising the official standard English among students there. He expressed to me that he feels it is lowering the intellectual potential of Ghanian students who use Pidgin English shortcuts to avoid the grammatical constructions of standard English.

I wish I could have gotten further with the book, and I may continue to read it and maybe finish it at a later time, but one quote that stood out to me was the expression “not yet” which I came across while reading. It made me think of a scene in the film Gladiator when the supporting character, played by Djimon Hounsou who portrays a hunter from Africa, tells the main protagonist, played by Russell Crowe, that Crowe’s character will see his family again in the afterlife but “not yet.” I feel like this has been a running theme for Africa, in general, for the centuries of colonization and imperialism it has endured. It has so much potential with the mineral resources, the vastness of the continent, and the intelligent minds that have emerged from there, such as the young man I met while in Siena. Perhaps one day Africa will have its time to flip the script on the western civilizations that have colonized it for centuries and emerge as a superpower in its own right but not yet, it seems...not yet. 

The Parthenon

On a previous memoir that I wrote describing my weekend experience in Athens, I mentioned that my visit to the Parthenon merited a write-up of its own. I wanted to write about all of the ways I connected with this structure honoring an ancient culture which represented the power of the people but also how reflecting on its history could bring up memories of rivalry and love which would never be fully realized and only remembered for what it could have been. The Parthenon is a monument to remember not what it was but what it could have been.

It was a monument to Athena, to Athenians, to democracy, and in my opinion, it was a monument to love. Pericles loved his city of Athens. He commissioned the building of the Parthenon not only to honor Athena, as popularly thought, but as a tribute to the people of Athens; to honor the power of the people. Athens was a democratic city and is widely considered to be the cradle of democracy. After all, the word “democracy” is based on the Greek words “dēmos” (common people) and “kratos” (power).

The monument is also a reflection of rivalry. There was a rivalry between the two Greek gods, Athena and Poseidon, both of whom desired the city. The competition to settle who would lay claim to it was held on the rocky outcrop where the Parthenon was built. They both offered gifts. Poseidon struck a rock causing a geyser of salt water to gush out, but Athena offered an olive branch, which was received more favorably, because the olive branch is a promise of peace. Therefore, she laid claim to the city; hence the name “Athens.” Athena is the goddess of wisdom, intellect, war, and peace. She desires peace first but will wreck vengeful havoc on any who cross her. (She once turned an Athenian woman who boasted of her weaving skills into a spider!)

Later on, there was a rivalry between Athens and its neighboring Greek city-state, Sparta, incited by The Delian League, a financial organization that was supposed to be neutral, but a lot of its funds went toward Athenian projects. Eventually this rivalry lead to the Peloponnesian War, which Pericles died at the beginning of, and the full completion of the beloved Parthenon he had envisioned was never seen.

There is a lot of the unknown which comes to mind when observing and studying the Acropolis. Did Pericles use funds from The Delian League to build the Parthenon? Did he take from something that was not actually his or his city’s in order to sponsor this great project that would later be a credit to him and to his city? Was this monument, which was intended to be a tribute to democratic fair society, actually built in the beginning with misappropriated funds? Does it have its historical roots in corruption? Can we still admire what it meant to represent — democracy, strength, and power of the people — in spite of the possible corruption?

Millions of people go to visit the Parthenon every year. Why? Is it to admire a beautiful structure? It is not actually that beautiful of a structure. It might have been and most likely would have been, but right now it is faded and in decay and rubble. In all likelihood, it began with corruption and ended due to war. It is a monument that represents, in addition to aforementioned attributes, unfinished business. The people gave up and lost heart. It is an unfinished work of love.

A metaphorical allegory...

There was a woman with a love story inside of her that was left unfinished. Her own inner Parthenon. She once met a man who might have been her counterpoint. There was a stimulating rivalry between them with palpable tension. And then there was deception and betrayal and then eventually a cold war. Her rival, her Poseidon, walked away out of fear that he would lose the competition and when he could not have her, he tried to destroy her. He struck his trident and spewed a great torrent of distorted truths and outright lies into the community in which they both shared with the intent of drowning her reputation. His aim was to isolate her and effectually protect himself.

Now her temple is in shambles, half standing and half destroyed, but still there. It might’ve been spectacular. No one will come to gaze at her monument and say “I see what you might have been. I can imagine the possibilities. I know the truth, and I still think your story is beautiful. You are beautiful. You are Athena. Goddess of victory and wisdom and peace and gifts.” The spectators of this continuing battle do not know the truth: that she sought peace with her rival and if they could not have love, they could find compromise. He refused to settle for compromise and friendship and instead, he became her enemy. And unlike Athena, she was not able to win over the community of the city that she loved; the community that had at first welcomed her with hospitality and opportunity. It rejected her olive branch of peace and sincere goodwill in favor of his salty lies and manipulative charisma.

A monument is a memory. Love and hate are each built by memory, in small persistent ways. After our first vision of them, and with every subsequent encounter, the persons we care for become composite beings, altered by every interaction as it comes so that they really exist less in the present than in the past, and are embodiments not only of their own but also of our departed days: the nuances of them, from our perspective, are all the occasions, mostly lost in the past and perhaps forgotten, in which our lives were joined, however briefly. The person we love (or hate) now, isn’t the person they are in the present, but the person that they were then. If they walked away from a love that could have been spectacular, then all that is left is an unfinished monument in our hearts that no one visits but ourselves alone. It exists only in the memory of those who contributed to building it.

Athens

While studying abroad in Italy, I was determined to visit at least one other country nearby. Before departing the United States, I called my bank to put a travel alert on about half a dozen countries - Greece, Spain, France, Germany, Switzerland, Czech Republic - not knowing which ones I’d possibly have the opportunity to see. I ended up visiting Athens, Greece and Lugano, Switzerland. While Lugano was lovely (despite the rainy weather,) I have to say that my experience in Athens made more of an impact on me.

Before choosing Athens, I had been deep in study about the ancient civilizations of the Greeks, the Etruscans, and the Romans. I have long been intrigued by Greek culture, particularly of the Classical Age, because of my studies of philosophers such as Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates. While Rome is connected to my Italian ancestry, I learned how much Rome was influenced by the culture, art, and architecture of the Greeks, and even absorbed it into its own. I studied the timelines of Greece and the important events that occurred within each major age: the Bronze Age, the Heroic Age, the Archaic Period, and the Classical Period. I saw pictures of important ancient artifacts and sculptures, such as the Calf-Bearer and the Kritios Boy, the latter of which is significant as a transitional piece between the Archaic and Classical Periods. Both of these sculptures were contained at the Acropolis Museum in Athens. I wanted to see them for myself.

The night before flying out from Rome, I took a cab from my hostel to get my first look of the Colosseum. I felt sure that I would be coming back to Rome for a longer visit later but due to the unknown circumstances that life can bring, I wanted to seize the opportunity to get a quick look at it that night. I walked around its entirety, peeked through the gate to get a glimpse of the inside and as I laid my hand on its ancient stone, I promised myself I would be coming back.

My flight on Aegean Air was pleasant, and the view of the sparkling Aegean Sea outside of my window was stunning. As soon as I landed at the Athens airport, I took a shuttle to get to the neighborhood where my hotel, the Royal Olympic, was located. I walked past the entrance to the park which contained the Temple of Olympian Zeus and shortly after that, I saw the directional sign to the Acropolis. I quickened my stride so that I could get to my hotel sooner in order to drop off my bag and get to exploring.

My hotel, which I had gotten for an inexpensive online rate, was beautiful and elegant. I dropped my bag off in my room and immediately went back out to head towards the Acropolis. As I walked up the hill towards the ancient citadel, I passed some Jehovah's Witnesses. (I saw them in just about every major city I visited.) The two ladies were standing by a cart full of magazines and booklets. They made me think about the Apostle Paul from the Bible and his travels around Greece, including Athens. I imagined him in his ancient world, when the worship of different gods imbued every part of an active Greek's life, and how it must have taken him so much courage to persuade people to take notice of and worship Jehovah, the living God. I wondered if he might've stood near the same path that I was walking on, vigorously trying to talk to people as they were on their way to these great temples which are still visible today.

I also passed by vendors selling roasted chestnuts, corn, and other foods. It was the time of day when the sun was on the verge of setting so there was a rich golden glow on everything. One of the things that struck me the most was a unique scent which I could not place but was fascinated by. It was spicy and herbaceous and reminded me of incense. (I would find out later that it was a type of yellow flower which grew around the area at the base of the citadel hill.)

When I first caught sight of the Parthenon on top of the rocky outcrop which is the site of the Acropolis, my heart jumped and I felt a sudden tingle of excitement. (My experience at the Parthenon itself merited its own blog.) This place crackles with energy and overwhelms the senses. I walked up the meandering path surrounded by trees, shrubs, sandstone and marl, walking quickly with anticipation but slowly enough to absorb all of the sights, sounds, and smells. I arrived close to the top and stopped at the gate short of breath after the hike up.

Unfortunately, I had just missed the last admission, and they were not letting anyone else in due to time of closing. I was disappointed, but I knew I would be coming back the next morning and decided to continue to explore. I went back down the hill, bought a roasted corn on the cob off a grill from a vendor, and made my way to the Acropolis Museum to see some ancient works of art that had been found in and around the vicinity of the ancient wonder on top of that rocky hill. I saw pieces dating from the beginning of the Bronze Age to the Classical Age, including the Calf-Bearer and the Kritios Boy. I saw busts of the various Greek gods and goddesses of mythology: Athena, Poseidon, Dionysus and others. Those three are probably my favorites. I relate to Athena the most as she personifies victory, courage, the arts, literature and intellectual activity, and because she is represented by an olive tree and an owl. (I used to have a pet owl when I was younger, and I also love olives.) Poseidon is intriguing because he is the god of the sea and protector of water, and who wouldn't love the ultimate party god Dionysus, the good-natured purveyor of wine, theater and festivity? I probably spent three hours in the museum taking my time looking at and reading everything I could.

After visiting the museum, I went to have dinner at an outdoor bistro at the base of the Acropolis with my table in between a flaming fire and some green ivy. I sipped on crisp local white wine and made a silent toast to the glowing Parthenon on the hill, and after I finished my dolmadakia and grilled octopus, I decided to go take a little walk around Plaka, the oldest neighborhood in Athens.

Plaka is a charming maze of narrow streets, glowing lamps, and outdoor cafes at every turn. Sometimes I passed under a canopy of vines overhead which connected buildings on either side of the street. I browsed a shop that was being managed by a charismatic middle-aged man named Ares (like the god of war), and he taught me a trick for how to remember the Greek word for “thank you,” which is “efcharistó" pronounced “eff-carry-sto.” He told me to just think “eff, I can’t remember…” and that it might help. (It did!) I also learned and remembered how to write the word “city” in Greek (πόλη).

After a lively conversation with Ares (who also goes by the name of Harry), I bought some jewelry for my mom and sisters and started to make my way towards a little tavern frequented by the Plaka locals which Ares recommended, but I changed my mind when I realized it would be more challenging than I’d thought it would be to find it, and it was starting to rain. I turned back and settled at a tavern outside underneath some trees with a little water garden next to it and had some chilled ouzo, then a baklava, and finally an espresso as I listened to ambient Greek music. A calico cat with a big fluffy tail climbed out of a tree nearby and scampered past me. (A tip to keep in mind: chilled ouzo is better recommended as an aperitif to have BEFORE dinner, preferably something that is seafood. I knew about that but preferred wine at the time.)

On the way out of Plaka, I stopped at the gate of the Temple of Zeus and reflected in tranquil solitude at those ancient ruins. When I got back to my hotel, I went up to the rooftop garden and spent the rest of my night sitting by a roaring fireplace drinking two snifter glasses of Metaxa (a Greek spirit of brandy blended with natural flavors and muscat wine from the Aegean Islands) and gazed out at the rain, alternating my view between the softly lit ruins of the Temple of Zeus just outside to my right and the mysterious Parthenon on the hill (which I still had to look forward to visiting the next morning) on my left. After going up to my room and taking a hot bath (my first in more than a month after sharing a community shower with lukewarm water at my apartment in Siena), I sat naked outside on my tiny private balcony, privately surveying the city lights and traffic below me while I thought about the experiences I'd had so far. I had walked the paths of ancient Greeks and connected on a deeply personal level with this city that had contributed so much to world culture. It was one of the most sensory and profound weekends I’d had in a long time; maybe one of the best in my life.

Efcharistó, Athens.

The Parthenon!

Dionysus Theater

Temple of Athena

These smelled like spicy herbaceous incense all around the Acropolis.

Roasted corn...nom nom nom

Outside Dionysus Theater

One of the most important sculptures:  The Kritios Boy

Met a local Greek named Ares (aka Harry)

Greek dinner at a tavern below the Acropolis

Baklava and espresso

Chilled ouzo after dinner

Walking around Plaka, oldest quarter in Athens

A snifter of Metaxa, a Greek liqueur similar to brandy

Religious vs. Temporal Institutions: History of Santa Maria della Scala Hospital

One of the most important establishments to visit in Siena is Santa Maria della Scala, once an ancient hospital and one of the oldest in Europe. The history of the hospital is certainly one of “hospitality”: the institution not only cared for the sick but also for the poor, for abandoned children, and for traveling pilgrims needing a place to stay. The hospital was also a storage place for food in the city of Siena, and currently it houses important art from medieval artists which are available for the public to go and view. By looking at these works of art, for instance Birth of the Virgin by Pietro Lorenzetti and Betrothal of the Virgin by Simone Martini which depict religious scenes, one can get a sense of the religious institution’s influence over the hospital at the time which also impacted Christian culture for a long time after with the exception of Jehovah’s Witnesses and other evangelists. The hospital has a complicated history of being in between the spiritual and temporal institutions both of which vied for control of this establishment.

Ancient hospitals were often used to house foreigners. Santa Maria della Scala was well known during medieval times for housing pilgrims. In Siena, this was due to two reasons: 1) It was geographical. Siena was on the route for Christian pilgrimages on the way to visit the “holy land.” The route was London-Westminster Abbey to Paris to Luca to Siena and then to Rome. 2) In the 1300s, Pope Boniface established holy land (in Rome) which helped the institution of the hospital. By curing the pilgrim, it was considered to be the same as curing Christ. So in a sense, they were helping themselves by helping the pilgrim who was viewed as a “poor Christ.” By the 16th century, the pilgrim is seen as just a person who wanders and not a normal person.

Santa Maria della Scala was at the center of economy. The hospital acquired wealth due to 1) the dean of the hospital and people who worked in the hospital administration, and 2) everyone had to give responsibilities to the hospital, including inheritances. The same thing happened to the monasteries. This turned out useful when the food shortages came. The city forced the hospital to sell food at certain prices. The hospital received its primary financial assistance from the donations of the wealthy (Baron).

Other duties of the hospital were to take care of abandoned children. Families were actually encouraged to give their children to the hospital due to social and economic reasons. The year during which the last child was recorded to have been abandoned was 1889. Girls in the countryside were paid to breastfeed the children. Then the children returned and were trained to work in artisan shops. Children (girls) were also sent to the hospital to work on textiles. The hospital would give money to the girls so they could get married. In Siena (and other cities), abandoned children would take the surname of the hospital (“della Scala.”)

“Della Scala” didn’t appear until around the 14th century. It is a fashion to describe the narrative of the changing of the times. At the time, the concept was to be complete. So when things were lacking, there were fantasies of the completion of things. It helps to picture life within the hospital. In the 15th century, there was a moment when the administration of the hospital fell into the administration of the city. A bishop tried to extend spiritual assistance into the hospital. The city did not want influence from the church and therefore the hospital became autonomous. In the 18th century, during the Enlightenment, there were radical changes in how people began to see medicine. At Santa Maria della Scala, there were different medical cultures. It was one of the first places to try a medical vaccine: inserted small pox vaccine.

For the purposes of analyzing a civic institution which benefits a fundamentally diverse public, such as a non-profit religious hospital, Santa Maria della Scala is an interesting early example of both the benefits and controversy of not having separation of church and state. As shown by previous examples in this essay, the philanthropic mission of Santa Maria della Scala was to provide hospitality to the poor and needy as well as to further the advancement of medical technology. The emperor of the 15th century was astonished by the technology available to help sick people at Santa Maria della Scala.

The world’s largest non-government provider of medical and healthcare services is the Roman Catholic Church which has some 18,000 clinics, 16,000 homes for the elderly and those with special needs, and 5,500 hospitals, with 65 percent of them located in developing countries (Agnew). There is no doubt that millions of people around the world since ancient times have benefited from these medical institutions with Santa Maria della Scala hospital being one of the earlier examples. However, there also controversial issues which arise from a powerful religious organization having control over a medical institution providing care to a complex and diverse community with fundamentally different views, beliefs, and values.

At the beginning, charity and healing were the priorities of the institutions but with the influence of the Church, medical advances and progress had to subordinate to the doctrines and dictates of the religious order. For example, because of the sanctity of life views of the Catholic Church, in vitro fertilization (IVF), which is used to treat genetic problems and assist with conception, is a controversial issue due to the series of complex procedures which destroy embryos. In 2012, President Obama received scrutiny due to his announcement that his administration would require religious institutions like hospitals and universities to provide coverage for contraceptives in employee health plans. Obama’s mandate would not have required employers at houses of worship to provide their employees with contraceptives, but his announcement sparked a firestorm in different religious communities, pitting freedom of religion against the separation of church and state. Obama has since said that he and his advisers are looking for ways to make the new requirements “more palatable” to religious institutions (O’Claire).

When evaluating the history and evolvement of Santa Maria della Scala from a religious establishment to a public institution independent from the Church, one can use it as a model to analyze against current medical institutions with religious leadership to see how the institutions can be leaders in medical advancement and philanthropy but also as a hindrance to medical progress if subdued by religious influence. On the flip side, there are also foreseeable problems when the federal government or state forces laws on someone trying to abide by spiritual principles, for instance, if a doctor or nurse is forced to perform an abortion or blood transfusion which transgresses against their deeply held beliefs due to a spiritually cultivated and trained conscience regarding the sanctity and value of human life.

Works Cited

Baron, J. H. "The Hospital of Santa Maria della Scala, Siena, 1090-1990." BMJ 301 (1990): 1449-1451

O’Claire, Sandra. “Should Catholic and Other Religious Institutions Have to Cover Birth Control?” U.S. News. 9 February 2012. Web.

Agnew, John. "Deus Vult: The Geopolitics of Catholic Church". Geopolitics. 12 February 2010. Web.

The Etruscans: Challenging the Perception of Gender Parity in an Ancient Civilization

Imagine you are at a party. A sumptuous feast is set out with a table piled high of almost every kind of meat you could want to taste: beef, lamb, pork, deer, wild boar, hare, and all sorts of game birds. There is a great variety of seafood as well, especially tuna, accompanied by enormous rounds of sheep’s milk cheese, vegetables, fruit, olives, porridge, bread pancakes, eggs, raisins and nuts. To further enhance the flavors, condiments of herbs, mint, honey, vinegar, pepper, and other spices are added. The people you are among happen to belong to a society which is a great exporter of wine, so there is no shortage in that department either, and domestic servants keep it flowing by continuously bringing the intoxicating burgundy-hued liquid to you in delicate silver pitchers. To keep the mood of the gathering uplifted, you hear the lively and delicate tune of the flute accompanied perhaps by the lyre, a small stringed instrument.

As you make your way around the room, you observe the other dinner party attendees, all of whom are in groups, with no one being alone. They are not sitting upright in chairs at a long elegant table but, rather, they are reclining on one-armed sofas. Some are even on floor mats surrounded by plush luxuriantly designed pillows. The men wear Greek-style tunics with complicated braided hairstyles. The hairstyles of the women are similar but with the addition of elaborate gold adornments and sparkling bold jewelry which compliments their brightly colored attire.

Your eye is drawn to one corner of the room where there is a couple sitting on a sofa. A woman sips heartily from a goblet of wine, tosses her head back with a boisterous laugh as she settles languorously against the gentleman next to her, her left breast slightly exposed and just caressing the right side of his chest. As you become more engaged and conversational with your fellow guests, you realize that this couple is not married! In fact, the woman’s husband is very close by, appearing to be equally relaxed and enjoying himself with other guests. In this gathering, there is nothing that is unseemly or taboo about the scene here.

Who is this woman? And who are these people? As you have probably guessed, you are being entertained at the home of someone belonging to an ancient civilization. The civilization is that of the Etruscans.

Etruscan Women

Preceding the rise of Rome as a super power, the entirety of Italy was ruled by the Etruscans. The surrounding seas were dominated by their ships. Their reputation was fearsome enough, as word of them spread abroad to other nations, without the added uneasiness of hearing how Etruscan society accorded women with influence and power.

There is little to be known about the Etruscans. Once they were conquered by the Romans, much of what was left of their civilization was lost, with none of their literature surviving. Archaeologists and historians have pieced together what Etruscan life was like by interpreting the vivid art that was left on their pottery, which illustrated depictions of elite Etruscans dining on top of the sarcophagi of dead loved ones, and there were also scenes of women drinking and sharing repast with the men - something that was rarely seen in ancient Greek and later Roman society. Only courtesans and prostitutes would be at a party among Greeks and Romans, and proper women in those societies would not be drinking wine, at least not until Rome was an empire. Yet, not only were Etruscan women expert drinkers, they freely imbibed right alongside the men.

The gender parity that existed between Etruscan men and women is probably what stands out most about what is known of their civilization. Etruscan women “scandalously” went out publicly, were able to read and write, and likely passed these dire habits on to their offspring (which they raised themselves). It was not uncommon for Etruscan women to be seen naked - at parties, at athletic events (which they participated in) - and even to share sexual experiences with partners who were not their husbands. They freely engaged in wining and dining publicly with their husbands and were actually elevated to higher social status for doing so. There are sculptured sarcophagi that show couples reclining together, affectionate and relaxed, the woman speaking and gesturing while the man placidly looks on. Murals also show women reclining or dancing amidst the men. They show female camaraderie and intimacy, notably in one painting that shows women who lay together, faces close as if kissing.

To share wives was an established Etruscan custom. Etruscan women took particular care of their bodies and exercised often, sometimes along with the men, and sometimes by themselves. Pitch tar was used to remove excess hair from their bodies. It was not a disgrace for them to be seen naked but rather, it was common. They did not share their couches only with their husbands but also with the other men who happened to be present, and they proposed toasts to anyone whom they chose to.

As mentioned previously, Etruscan women raised their own children and other children, regardless of who the father might have been, but more than that, archaeology suggests that there may have been matronymic lines in that the ancestry could be traced back to the maternal lineage rather than the paternal, based on certain inscriptions. Sometimes the father’s surname was added to the mother’s, which indicated a bilateral system which recognized matrilineal connections.

Women’s roles in the Etruscan-Roman relationship

One of the key female figures in ancient early Roman history is that of Tanaquil, the daughter of a powerful Etruscan family in Etruria and wife to Lucius Tarquin, the first Etruscan king of Rome. She was rumored to have prophetic abilities (something that nowadays might be considered to be female intuition) that persuaded her husband to move to Rome and become established with the local aristocracy, despite being an immigrant. While traveling to Rome, an eagle flew from Tarquin’s head and then returned back, which Tanaquil interpreted to be a divine sign that he was meant to be king. Her prophecy was eventually realized when Tarquin became friends with King Ancus Marcius, who made Tarquin the guardian of his children. When the king died before his children were old enough to become successors, Tarquin gained enough popularity to be elected as the fifth king of Rome. Tanaquil later used her influence again to play a role in the rise of the sixth king, Servius Tullius, whom she raised as her own child.

Due to her legendary status in early Etruscan-Roman politics, Tanaquil was respected and remembered favorably by Romans who elevated her to mythological status and changed her name in the history books to Caia Caecilia. It even became Roman public decree that when a new bride entered into a royal palace, she would go by the name “Gaia” if asked. This was meant to be an omen of frugality and simple living for women of that time period.

What was lost?

Once the Romans grew dissatisfied with Etruscan rule, the Tarquins were expelled from the city, and Romans began to establish a Republic just as their Etruscan counterparts were doing throughout the rest of Italy. This overthrow marked the beginning of the end of Etruscan rule in southern Italy. First they lost the routes to the cities leading to fertile land in the region of Campania, which was tolerable, but once they lost their naval strongholds, it was all but over. Following the destruction of their navy along with hostilities from all sides and internal struggles, the Etruscan city-states were conquered one by one and eventually fell to Rome. The Romans assimilated parts of Etruscan culture and discarded the rest.

One of the cultural aspects that was lost in relation to Etruscan women when the transition of power was passed to Rome was the freedom and social status of women. While Etruscan women did not have especially significant roles in initiating political changes in their society (Tanaquil being one of the historical exceptions), the Etruscan women had a lot more freedom to interact with their husbands and other men in public, attending parties and such, whereas Greek and Roman women did not. One thing to keep in mind, based on what is read and one’s own personal perception, is that much of the art depicted on the ancient archaeological findings of Etruscan pottery is that of wealthy elite-class Etruscan women. It is unknown what life was like for more lower-class Etruscan women and how much freedom they might have had.

Contrasting current perceptions of female-assigned gender roles

One thing that is striking when reading about ancient Etruscan women is how they were perceived by ancient chroniclers who were accustomed to how much more subordinated Greek and Latin women were in contrast to their Etruscan counterparts. Having the freedom to participate actively at parties while dressed in colorful eye-catching clothes and elaborate adornments, they were looked upon as “licentious” for doing so, whereas in their own society they were respected. Earlier Greeks left personal testimony for later Greeks to base their own perceptions and when reading these subjective eyewitness accounts, one could almost detect a hint of envy mixed in with an air of judgment. When considering these ancient comparisons of how women could be labeled based on personal perception and cultural relevancy, it brings to mind that similar contrasts could be done today.

A good visual example to consider would be that of a photo capturing Prince William and his wife Kate Middleton being greeted by topless women when they visited the Solomon Islands in 2012. In their own local culture, nothing about these women addressing the British royal couple in this way would be perceived as inappropriate and yet, as a guest, it is interesting to note that Kate Middleton did not assimilate to the local culture and appear topless herself; she is fully covered in a blue dress. On the other hand, if one of these local women of the Solomon Islands appeared topless on a street in London, there would likely be more scrutiny and disapproval, if not outrage.

Another and more recent example to contrast, specifically regarding gender parity in politics and business, would be that of Hilary Clinton, the primary Democratic candidate for the 2016 Presidential election. In comparison to Donald Trump, who was captured on audio making inappropriate statements about women, which was ultimately dismissed by many of his supporters as something that was “in the past,” Clinton herself was not given such a pass for the discovery that she had used a private server for emails even though it was never proven that she committed anything treasonous. The burden of proof was shifted to her to prove her innocence to the public during this political witch hunt, rather than the other way around - burden of proof shifting to those accusing her of guilt - which is supposed to be the maxim upheld in American justice. It would seem that the public perception of her being “dishonest” and “manipulative” were assigned more to her as a woman than the same accusations that were applied to Donald Trump and yet, he was rewarded in this political narrative whereas she was punished.

A final example to look at is that of Wendi Deng, a Chinese-American actress, producer, and businesswoman. She was formerly married to media titan, Rupert Murdoch, CEO of News Corporation, and has more recently been rumored to be the girlfriend of Vladimir Putin, the President of the Russian Federation. She has a history of seducing older married men with the opinion that it was in order to increase her social strata, which has caused some to look at her as a “gold-digger” and social climber; even gaining her labels such as “glorified escort” and more. Yet, she has a professional résumé that would credit her as an executive who increased the presence and investments of NewsCorp in China, among other impressive professional ventures. Even still, for anyone who is vaguely familiar with who Wendi Deng is, it is suspected that they are more likely to associate her for her latent connections to high-profile men rather than on the merit of her own accomplishments without doing further digging.

Conclusion

In the current parlance of our times with feminism, sexuality, and women’s rights being dominant issues in the foreground of sociopolitical discourses, I believe that the Etruscan society, especially regarding the role of women, merits consideration. Aside from being a fascinating civilization, it provides a comparative lens for which to do analysis with our contemporary cultural relevancy. If not much else is known about the Etruscans, it is apparent that women were not only respected and encouraged to pursue social freedoms, they were considered equals. It is not only a feature, but a central narrative which dominates the illustrations of ancient Etruscan artifact.

Style and Art: A Textual Analysis

A common theme that has come up as I have been observing and learning more about art history while in Siena is that of style. A style is something that an artist may use to convey an emotion, a particular allegory, the period of time a work was created, and even to portray their own perspective of a possible truth. And that is what has been interesting to me about some of these works of art: it is not so much the insistence of a particular truth but the possibilities of what truths could be.
In Perseus in the Wind, Freya Stark connects style and truth together when she observes that “style is fundamentally a truthful statement, if we take for truth something more careful than the not telling of a lie. There are layers and layers of truth; and style, whether in dress or life, art or literature is involved in their discovery” (81).

My personal discovery while studying this art, particularly the gothic art of the Medieval period which is almost entirely religious art, is that with the style of the artist, the iconography was made to represent and persuade the viewer of perceived (even imagined) truths...and the artist was powerful because of this, even held responsible by the Church depending on the style the artist used. As the views, understandings, and teachings of the Church changed over time, so did the style of the art.

For instance, there are multiple versions of The Annunciation - a depiction of the angel Gabriel informing the young virgin Mary that she would become the mother of Jesus Christ. There are three paintings from different time periods ranging from Middle Age to High Renaissance to Late Renaissance that I observed and compared. Perhaps three of the most famous paintings of this particular theme are the ones created by Simone Martini, an artist of the Medieval Era, and later the one painted by Leonardo Da Vinci, at the peak of the Renaissance Age - both of whose paintings can be seen at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy - and lastly the one painted by Giorgio Vasari of the Late Renaissance Age, whose painting can be seen at The Louvre in Paris, France.

The painting of The Annunciation by Simone Martini, created in 1333, depicts the virgin Mary as very closed off. She is leaning away from the visiting angel, her back towards him, and she is guarding herself with her right arm. Her face looks grim, and she appears scared. She is also wearing a dark blue robe with only a small bit of fabric from the red dress she is wearing underneath peeking out. This is in keeping with the Church discouraging, or outright forbidding, artists from depicting the Virgin Mary wearing crimson, which was considered the color of harlots. It is also evidence of a slight progression in how this theme was illustrated when compared to much earlier works of art of the same theme, in which the virgin was shown wearing all blue and no red at all (for instance, The Virgin and Child, currently on display in Saint Catherine’s Monastery, which was painted in the year 600.) She is also shown to be looking more regal with gold trimming around the hems of her robe and gown and a golden jewel-encrusted head adornment that appears to be a crown.

Moving further along in time by almost 150 years, the Annunciation by Leonardo Da Vinci was painted in 1472 at the height of the Renaissance Age. The mood and style of this painting is somewhat different from Martini’s. It shows Mary in an open receptive position; she is facing the angel, her hand is held upward and away from her body, and her face appears softer. She is also shown with more of her red dress appearing from under the blue outer robe she wears, and her clothing is less regal than that seen in Martini’s painting.

The final painting in this analysis of the Annunciation, created by Giorgio Vasari around 1565 during the Late Renaissance, shows an even more open and receptive depiction of the virgin and the visiting angel. He is closer to her than as seen in the two earlier aforementioned paintings, and she is wearing a red dress with no blue at all. She also appears to be very humble and simply dressed with no gold in her adornment.

I found it to be an interesting discovery and analysis of how the perception of truth can be influenced and even altered according to the style of an artist during a particular age. During the Medieval Age, when artists were influenced more by the Catholic Church, the style was to show the interaction of the virgin and angel as more stern, austere, and guarded with the virgin wearing little to no red. During the Renaissance, which was guided more by individualism than the Church, the theme is softer, more open, and she is wearing more red.

During a recent visit to the Santa Maria della Scala hospital in Siena, Italy, I saw an exhibit of what is considered to be a relic of the fabric that Mary wore, and it was red. Whether it’s true that this was actually a piece of her garment or whether it was sensationalized due to the “business” of relics and how important they were to a particular city in luring others to make a pilgrimage, I am not sure. However, I found this to be a notable observance informing my analysis which synthesizes with the statement Freya Stark made about style and truth perceived from art.

Simone Martini, 1333.

Leonardo da Vinci, 1472.

Giorgio Vasari, 1565.