The Art of Provoking Thought

     In high school I avoided the art room like it was the plague.  I simply could not understand the allure of messy paints and listening to the history behind paintings that were hundreds of years old.  Now give me a pig to dissect, or an equation where I had to solve for X, and I was excited.  It is ironic that I now live in a city world famous for its art.  In many ways, since the Renaissance period Florence has stood still in time.  Many of the buildings have remained virtually unchanged for hundreds of years, and the work of the famed Renaissance artists continue to command the same spaces that they have since Florence was ruled by the Medici family.

     It was with hesitation that I agreed to go with friends this past weekend to an art showing in one of Florence's most famed art studios.  Okay, I admit it, I agreed to go because I had heard about the dashing older artist who has run the studio for the past 30 years.  I was curious to meet the man that so many have talked about.  And he is single.  

     As I walked into the studio one got a sense of walking back in time.  There was an area where a family has been sculpting for 5 generations.  Even I could not help but be taken by the fact that before me was the work of a family that has transcended literally 400 hundred years.

     When I walked into the part of the studio where artists paint in the same tradition as the Renaissance artists, I saw that everyone was hanging onto the words of the handsome artist who was passionately talking about his craft and the talent of his students.  As I looked at the many paintings hanging throughout the studio the talent of the students was obvious to even my untrained eye.  Somehow in each painting you just got a sense that you were getting a peak into the souls of the models through their eyes and facial expressions.  The models ranging from beautiful young women to older alcoholic men that live on the streets. 

     In the middle of the room was a very handsome young Italian soccer player who was acting as a model.  Two the left of him was a pretty young woman painting her view of him.  To the right was an older balding man painting his view of this Italian stud.  I could not help but be amazed how two artists captured the handsome and athletic soccer player in two very different ways.  The pretty female artist painting him in a soft and sensual way, influenced perhaps by her own sexual attraction to him. The older balding male artist painting him in a sharp and aggressive manner, perhaps influenced by his jealousy that this young man possesses what he lost decades ago - youth, looks, virility.  Despite the artists both painting the same model one painting had the eyes of a great lover, and one had the eyes of an angry stalker.  

     It was a truly unique experience to have the opportunity to be able to spend time with some of the students.  Young men that were obviously very gifted.  They did not apologize for being able to pursue their craft because of being trust fund babies.  They did not care.  What they cared about was having the opportunity to study under one of the greatest teachers of our day.  While I was in awe of their talent because I am someone who can barely manage to draw a stick figure, what really struck me was the story behind each artist; many of whom are tortured souls that use their craft to release their angst that threatens to take over them each day of their lives.  I was fascinated by how closely looking at their work, and the symbolism behind it, one got a window into the lives and indeed their souls. 

     My friends and I were then invited by the artists to go to the opening of another art show in Florence.  So only as one would think of doing in Italy, we refilled our wine glasses for the walk along the Arno to the other art show.  There one of the young artists that I had met earlier walked me through each painting challenging me to see the work through different eyes and to look deeper into the story behind the work.

     Before I knew it five hours had passed.  My friends and I were so captivated by the experience that we just then realized that we had not eaten dinner.  For hours we sat, sipping wine, hanging onto the words of the dashing older artist and mentor of the young men and women of his studio.  We debated, we laughed and we got totally drawn in by his passion for art.  As I sat eating my pasta dinner I thought about how fortunate I was to experience this day; a day were great art, history, wine, food and people were all married together in a way that can only happen here in Italy.  It truly was a gift.  It has been a long time since my mind has been challenged in such a way where I felt this kind of intellectual excitement; and it was because of art.  Who knew that through art I would experience an intellectual orgasm.  For the first time I got why so many people are seduced into the world of art.  Lucky for me this great seduction is not over as I am having dinner with the dashing older artist later this week.