218. Artsy

Of course, everyone knows that Italy has arguably the greatest art in the Western world, and believe me, I saw plenty of it. From the Palazzo Doria Pamphilj in Rome to the Capodimonte in Naples to the Brera in Milan, I saw more Virgin Marys than you can shake a stick at.

Any neighborhood church is covered with painting and sculptures that may not be Leonardos or Michelangelos, but firmly establish Italy’s standing as a culture that produces and appreciates fine art, not just museum-worthy, but in the neighborhoods, too.

But this trip, I especially appreciated the street art on display. Living outside Philly, with its 3000+ building-side murals, I have a heightened awareness of that particular form. In the little out-of-the-way Umbrian town on Narni Scalo, there were thirteen building-sized murals of people associated with Italian cinema, by the artist David Pompili. This is a town with so few visitors that everything, including the supermarkets and restaurants, closes for the day at 2:00 on Sunday because why would anyone be anywhere but home for family dinner, so the murals were for the benefit of its residents, not for out-of-towners.

I love this guy who greets you when you step off the ferry in Messina, Sicily. A little creepy, but charming, too. I’m not sure he would have gotten approved in Philly.

And then there were people who took things into their own hands. Every available wall in Italy seems to be covered in graffiti. Who needs approval from The Man to make a display?

There were also a number of public art projects. While hiking in Aspromonte National Park in Calabria, we came upon Bosco degli Artisti, Artists’ Forest, an installation from 2022. According to the literature, the pieces are meant to be both inspired by nature and to blend into it. There was something eerie about being up on a deserted mountainside with these slightly creepy pieces, but also something very moving.

There was no ambiguity about the meaning of this installation in Milan, Wall of Dolls, that showed photos of women who had been murdered by their abusers, surrounded by actual dolls and naked mannequins. Its place on a busy street makes it inescapable to see and reckon with.

And then there was the sculpture. Of course, there were hundreds of religious sculptures, with a few in every church. A favorite religious image one sees out and about is Padre Pio, now Saint Pio, a 20th century Capucin friar and mystic known for his miraculous healing powers. Particularly in the South, his image is everywhere – in framed portraits on restaurant walls, prayer cards tucked into cash registers in shops, and statues in town squares.

A recent article in the New York Times told of the uproar about Thomas J. Price’s 12-foot tall bronze statue on temporary display in Times Square, depicting an ordinary Black woman. This was felt to be an unworthy subject of such a prominent public setting, although I would hardly say that Times Square is the height of artistic sophistication. I came upon another piece of his work, “Time Unfolding,” in the Piazza Della Signoria in Florence, just steps from the Uffizi gallery and the replica of Michelangelo’s David. Somehow, showing a Black woman, even in that artistically exalted space, didn’t make the world come to an end. Actually, it made me smile.

Another combination of high and low culture also made me smile. Sylvester Stallone seems to loom larger in Italy than in the U.S., with people mentioning Rocky, second only to cream cheese, when they learn I’m from Philadelphia. I’m a huge fan of Rocky, even named my dog after him, but maybe this is going a bit too far.