Nov. 2015 in Florence: Pope Francis & the Paris Tragedy

     It was a little over a week ago, although it seems an eternity given what happened in Paris immediately afterwards, that Pope Francis visited Florence.  Like a rock star, the Pope arrived in a helicopter which landed in nearby Prato, an industrial city where he publicly condemned the problem of thousands of illegal Chinese immigrants who are employed in textile factory sweatshops.  

     Another helicopter ride and he was in Florence, where he had lunch at the Caritas soup kitchen staffed by volunteers.  Pope Francis was served the simple, yet hearty, meal of the day given to the poor on the usual plastic plate, with plastic utensils. After an after-lunch siesta in the Curia headquarters, he visited the newly renovated, state-of-the art Cathedral museum and then went to the Florence stadium in the Popemobile.  Here Sua Sanctità (as Italians call him) is in Piazza del Duomo, Florence's cathedral square, in the company of Cardinal Betori.

At the stadium he said, "I would like the Church not to rest easy but rather be anxious, in order to get close to the those whose are abandoned, forgotten and imperfect.  I would like the Church to have the face of a mother, who understands, accompanies and caresses.  I would like you to share the same dream of a Church just like this, to believe in it and be able to innovative in complete freedom."

  The aura of peace that Pope Francis left Florence (even traffic jams disappeared for a day) was shattered by the Friday the 13th massacre of innocent civilians in Paris clubs and restaurants.  But (who knows!) his words helped to inspire the gesture decided by Florence's city council pictured below:

the open-air copy of Michelangelo's David, that ultimate symbol of freedom wearing a black armband with the French flag draped at his feet.

  This strong message from David can be seen in front of city hall in front of 

Palazzo Vecchio, Piazza Signoria.

The photo of the Pope is by faithful Beautiful Florence blog photographer Cathleen Guerrero.

Reporting live from Beautiful Florence -- Rosanna

The Tuscan Summer of 2015 & 1944

Today is August 11, marking the 72nd anniversary of Florence & Tuscany's liberation from Nazi and Fascist forces thanks to the efforts of the Allies who proceeded northward from Rome, aided by local partigiani (Italian resistance fighters).  

2015 is also the hottest Tuscan summer since records were kept, with daytime temperatures hitting 102°F.  

Even for a die-hard beach aficionado like me,

the heat was too much to head to the coast on weekends.

I abandoned my spot under a beach umbrella 

(left) along the Mediterranean, and began to dream of a picture I published in the magazine Vista, Florence & Tuscany.  Taken by my work soul mate Andrea Pistolesi, it depicted a waterfall somewhere near the Tuscan border with 

Emilia Romagna.

That picture haunted me.  An alternative image popped into my mind's eye: a cool, clear river I bathed in many years ago.  With only my memory to go on, I decided to find it, and to return.

In the search, friends Erin (mother of a toddler and six months pregnant), husband Chris and myself, took a trip back to the tumultuous liberation of Tuscany as well as to the timeless beauty of the countryside.

I called old friend, Andrea Politi, remembering having been invited to a convivial lunch at his family country home near Pelago, and indeed, he identified the river as the Vicano, which follows its course close by, eventually flowing into the Arno.

One Sunday morning, Erin, little Elise, Chris and myself went up to the mountain pass of the Consuma (3000 ft), hosting a village renowned for its schiacciata, the Tuscan variant of the focaccia, which comes topped or filled with a choice of vine-ripened tomatoes, porcini mushrooms from the local woods, onions, ham, cheese etc.  We had a mid-morning merenda (snack), accompanied by espresso, but had so enjoyed our authentic Italian moment in a non-touristy location that we neglected to take pictures.

Chris drove us down the mountain to an altitude of 1500 ft, to Diacceto, where we made a turn-off to Ferrano.  As per Andrea's directions, Chris drove to the end of paved road, and continued to on a dirt road (strada bianca) to the end, until we saw a small chapel.

"This is Andrea's property!," I said, and indeed later on he confirmed that that his rustic country home and chapel were originally part of a larger estate and that his ancestors were originally tenant farmers.

It was Erin who spotted the plaque on the house first.

It says that a Jewish family found refuge within its walls thanks to the big-heartedness of Giuseppe Politi, Andrea's father.  Their lives were saved in the wilderness of Ferrano, and the marker commemorates this fact for posterity.

"They were the Navarro family from Rome," Andrea told us later, "who had friends in Diacceto, just down the road, on the way to Pelago."

It was Andrea's late father, a partisan fighter known as
Braccioforte (Strong Arm) who sheltered them.  He headed a group of 200 men, the Perseo brigade, who sabotaged the German's mean's of communications and routes, also to help defend the
local population.

In retaliation, the Nazis rounded up 19 locals, including women and children, who were the victims of a massacre.  For their anti-Nazi and anti-Fascist stance and actions, the village of Pelago was awarded a silver medal at WW2's end.

The house itself is from the 1700s, a quintessential slice of true Tuscany.

Andrea's sister lives here in the summer, while Andrea himself and wife Nicole, of Polish-Jewish heritage whom he met on a trip to Paris, arrive from Florence on the weekends.

After a picnic lunch among the olive groves, it was time to find the river.

Indeed refreshing, but only one to three ft. deep because of the drought, alas! we did not go swimming.

Sitting on cool rocks, we put our legs and feet in.  The Vicano indeed pristine as the nature surrounding it, and full of fish and crayfish.  NB:  from a subsequent Internet search, I discovered that the place to bathe in the Vicano river is at Fontisterni, several miles away, where German tourists have been even reported to dive in the river's pools recklessly headfirst.

Another memory flooded in my head: that of a stone church dating back from 1100 CE (or AD).

Andrea obliged us and led the way in his vintage Vespa scooter, from 1984.

Isn't it a beauty?

As timeless as the original Fiat 500.

In any case, we were traveling in a red Opel Corsa, half-German, half U.S. General Motors car, bought new in

1996.

It was an uphill drive -- great for a spring or fall hike -- but now I was glad to be in the car.

Suddenly, after parking, we were in the presence of a perfectly preserved stone Romanesque church.

Its antiquity is testified to by the open bell tower and the
single rose window.

The church's name is Santa Maria a Ferrano

(St. Mary of Ferrano), and is located at 1800 ft.  For the record, it was built in the 11th century, and belonged to the Albizi family

(my office in Florence happens to be on Borgo degli Albizi, and the descendants of the family still live in the Renaissance section of the palazzo).

Santa Maria a Ferrano has been more or less abandoned since 1574, occasionally serving as a barn, before becoming recuperated by a religious community headed by a German monk.  He has apparently taken to Italian habits and was away on vacation.

Hence the door was locked.

Years ago, once inside, I saw a wood beam ceiling and a ray of setting sun come in through the bare rose window, to strike the stone altar.
Indelible memory.

This is the view of the hills around Ferrano and Santa Maria a Ferrano, woods filled with chestnut, beech and fir trees.

Driving back, I saw a sign for Rufina, which provided an adventure for the following weekend for me, Erin & family:  a visit to Petrognano, a farm bed-and-breakfast w/pool (we swam at last!) belonging to friends Enrico Lagorio of the La Toraia Chianina burger food truck fame, and his wife Antonella.

Here Chris, Erin and Elise are going into lunch and meeting another family.

In a twist of fate, Petrognano is situated right below Pomino, which was for centuries an Albizi wine estate.  The family coat-of-arms still graces the then (19th century) innovative white wine blend, Pomino Bianco.

It would appear that I have a karmic link with this historic Florentine family, although my family is originally (and proudly) from the hills of Lucania, province of Matera, near Pollino.

As for me and Andrea, as pictured, we continue the long trail of our friendship.

It dates back to when I first arrived in Beautiful Florence as a young girl, when I became friends with his neighbor, Mariangela Bortolani, introduced to me by art historians Lucia Monaci Moran and Gordon Moran.  Older than us -- I  learned during our adventure that Andrea was born to Bracciaforte (Strong Arm) and his wife at the beginning of peacetime, the end of 1945.

He has always been to Mariangela, an art conservator who is from the mountains of Emilia and who would probably recognize Andrea Pistolesi's waterfall photo -- and I,
nothing less than a Tuscan big brother.

    Reporting live-- 

                                    Rosanna

Italian Health Care & A Personal Resurrection

Today is Easter, and with no disrespect intended to Christ, I would like to write about a personal resurrection in part engineered by the Italian nationalized health care system (free for everyone, even tourists, no need for insurance).

This year, I was one of the many laid low by a particularly nasty form of flu.  Laid low is a compliment, knocked out is a better description.  It started as a cold and stuffed sinuses and progressed from there.  I had to take a cab home from work after emailing La Repubblica -- for whom I write a column -- 

that I was ill.

The next morning, with practically no voice, I called my family M.D., Dr. Carlo Ressel (pictured above in his office at Due Strade).  He is available for phone consultations twice a day -- again at no charge.  When he heard me croaking, Dr. Ressel immediately asked if I had a fever (Italians are obsessed with la febbre as a symptom).  I don't think so, I replied.  "I will be in your neighborhood tomorrow afternoon, and if I don't see you at the clinic, I will make a house call," was his reply.

In Italy, a house call doesn't cost a dime.

The next day, despite chills, aches and pains, I managed to get dressed and walk down the block to his office.   He examined me and again asked if I had had a fever.  "Well, I don't know," I replied.

"I couldn't find the thermometer, and really....I don't get this bit about sticking it under the armpit 

like everyone here does and not in my mouth.  

Plus, the temperature is in Centigrade or Celsius, not Fahrenheit."

Ressel laughed and proceeded to measure it.  Despite his name, he is indeed an Italian 

-- a Florentine he would specify -- M.D.  

He is descended from Josef Ressel, of Austrian-Czech origin, who emigrated to Trieste and invented both the ship propeller and steamship.  His great-grandson has inherited Josef's love of the sea.
 On duty 11 months a year, Dr. Carlo Ressel takes a month's vacation
(as all Italians did pre-recession)

in July on the island of Elba.  As state-subsidized health care is available year-round,
a substitute takes his place.

Here and now, he told me to come back in a few days and wrote a prescription.  

As in most clinics in Italy, the pharmacy is practically next door.

Well, I believe in natural remedies and holistic medicine but I was in no shape to go to downtown Florence.  I was grateful for what I was given (above), which helped me greatly, along with throat remedies and the Italian version of Vicks Vaporub.

After displaying my tessera sanitaria (Italian national health care card), I pulled out my wallet.

Guess what?  I didn't pay anything, not a single euro.
 I turned the above box around and read (as the gentle reader can see)

Confezione dispensata dal SSN -- medicine courtesy of the Servizio Sanitaria Italiana

--the Italian Health Care System.  

I will take that over an HMO or Blue Cross any day.

After spending three more days in bed, somewhat better, with a hint of appetite returning,

I had breakfast on Monday morning and returned to the office.

Despite the fact I had sent an article to Repubblica written by a collaborator, 

I noticed the old column was still online.  There was only one possible thing to do:

invent an option.  I communicated this via email, specifying that I wasn't completely well,

and astonishingly (my editor is rarely in contact, simply too busy)

received this reply:

"Ciao Rosanna, just tell us what we can put.  A big hug.

lm" (= Laura Montanari)

Thanks to to that message, I entered into a quiet interior space.

It reminded me of 20 years ago, when I wrote a column for the print version of Florence's La Repubblica, that I reported for work once more with the flu, this time with a fever.  I sought a free computer, and found one, next to executive editor Claudio Giua's office,
 at the desk of the late Paolo Vagheggi.

Again, I was in the eye of the storm, the tempest being a deadline I was really too ill to meet.

I went beyond time and space and did it in just under two hours.

Fast forward to the present, then as now, I made it.

The next day, again in bed, with Arlene, the faithful Filippino cleaner (since '96!) hovering over me instead of ironing, the congratulatory phone calls began.

The column I wrote in a comatose yet calm state was a huge success:

http://firenze.repubblica.it/cronaca/2015/02/16/news/a_special_florence_museum_week-107477880/

All I needed to do was be.

Well, I had managed to get home the day not by cab but on my own power.

Luckily, I didn't need an ambulance.  And -- guess what -- if

I had (like this one pictured above at the Santa Maria Nuovo hospital close to my office)

it, too, is FREE.  The vehicle is supplied by the Italian health care system.  The drivers and paramedics -- all specially trained -- belong to a completely volunteer ambulance service,

the Misericordia (literally: mercy or compassion for others in misery, to be helped with heart).

The Misericordia had been helping the the sick and injured in Tuscany since the times of the plague,

that is, 1244.  

But that's another story.

Reporting live from Beautiful Florence

                                             -- Rosanna

85 Years at Casa dei Tessuti

It's Christmastime and everyone loves a party.  But what are those bolts of fabric doing behind the
hors d'oeuvres?  As a tailor's daughter who appreciates fabric, without ever learning to sew, I was glad to be invited to the 85th anniversary bash of Florence's House of Fabrics,
Casa dei Tessuti, on via de'Pecori,
along with faithful blog photographer Lakota Gamill.

This is one of the window displays with an alluring evening gown
made from one of the bolts of fabric displayed within the shop and for sale.
Any takers for New Year's?

Even the unsuspecting visitor could see that tradition reigns at the Casa dei Tessuti.

These are present-day representatives of the militia of the glorious Republic of Florence, hired for the
celebration to welcome guests.  Normally they are on duty during city ceremonies as well as for the
parade preceding the yearly Calcio Storico (in semifinals and finals, representatives from four Florentine neighborhood compete against each other in a Renaissance sport combining rugby, soccer and occasional brute violence).

Casa dei Tessuti was founded in 1929 by Egisto Romoli.  His sons Romano and Romolo Romoli still run the shop today. The brothers believe that the store is carrying on the tradition of Florence's glorious Wool and Silk Guilds.  Artisan guilds were so important to Florence that delegates from each formed the ruling city council during the medieval times in the republic that eventually gave way to three centuries of control by the Medici family.

Above left is Romano Romoli next to Kathy Knippel, director of Studio Fuji Art Studio, a Florence school of textile design, silkscreening and fashion. She created the soft sculpture above the antique cash register depicting the workers of the wool guild and gave it the Casa dei Tessuti as a gift.

Romano's father, Egisto, decreed that all the personnel hired by Casa Tessuti for posterity would be men.  So it was, and continues to be: to the right is Andrea Spulcioni, who accepted an offer of employment at the shop at the tender age of 15, in 1974.

"I have seen the world without leaving Florence," says Andrea. "I've served the queens of Holland and Denmark, Bedouins in their native dress, bejeweled women with no credit left on their cards, and people who appeared down and out (straccioni, literally: dressed in tatters: Maybe they needed a new wardrobe!) who purchased 7,000 euro worth of fabric." Buying habits have changed, he notes, the locals who would make small purchases have diminished, giving way to the "well-to-do tourist who spend a bundle and takes away bundles and bundles."

All have the option to have clothes made to measure by tailors and seamstresses.  My father would have been content.

My heart-sister, Mary Louise, calls me "the hand," for my ability to touch and assess fabrics and textiles, my father's legacy.  Well, "the hand," reached out to touch cashmere, wool, alpaca, linen, cotton in addition to silk prints, gorgeous brocades and damasks.

The store carries original fabrics by Valentino, Ungaro, Dior, Pucci and Cavalli

as well as textiles inspired by the designs of Chanel.
My heart-sister recalls, on a visit to Florence, that Romano showed her
a small swatch of "fabric"
made with woven peacock feather strands.

On a more modest note, Andrea is especially proud of the selection of
English fabrics and genuine Scottish tweeds,

including Harris tweed, which, because of the loom, can be no wider than 70 cm (27 1/2 inches).

I asked Andrea why Egisto preferred to have men only at the service of customers.
"He believed that a women could not, in complete honesty, advise another woman on the choice of fabric and color.  Egisto felt there was always a touch of
hidden jealousy in dealings between the gentle sex.
Since men and women are not competitive in regards to fashion, a man can be counted on to be completely honest on what best suits a client."

I wonder what Egisto would have thought of his grandson Alessandro, Romano's son, and his companion Sibilla,
who are pictured below with the celebratory anniversary cake.

Rest in peace, Egisto, for again in keeping with tradition, Sibilla has set foot in Casa dei Tessuti to participate in 85th anniversary bash; career-wise she is a Florence tour guide.

At present, Alessandro flanks Andrea in customer care.  He will carry the fabrics and unmuted, unchanging tradition of the Casa dei Tessuti into the future.

Reporting live from Beautiful Florence

      -- Rosanna

George Clooney, Florence & the Local Press

George Clooney was in Florence recently to participate in the first-ever 'Celebrity Fight Night.'

He along with celebrity peers such as Lionel Richie, Sophie Loren, multiple Grammy award winner David Foster, and of course, Andrea Boccelli, made guest appearances at a number of events designed to raise money for the Muhammed Ali Parkinson Center.

Blue bloods and fashion designers of Florentine high society were the hosts,
opening palaces and museums.

As for what the Florentine in the street thought of the event,

gentle readers only needed to take a look at the headlines of the local newspapers.

Clooney of course was accompanied by his fiancée Amal Alamuddin

the "signora," or lady in the above title from the Florence edition of La Repubblica.

Despite my fluent Italian, I needed to check the work "delirio" out.

This is what I found, "stato di esaltazione, fanatismo" (an exalted state or

fanatasism) translating correctly to "frenzy or fury."

Taken literally, the headline says that the city was in a state of delirium for Clooney and lady.

Or, in simple English, Clooney's local fans, the entire population of Florence,

was overcome with excitement.

Interestingly enough, the Florence edition of Corriere della Sera, the Corriere Fiorentino, flipped the order of the day's two main stories:  local soccer first, then Clooney.

Again, the Corriere reported that the local residents were deliriously happy by Clooney's visit

(Firenze in Delirio).

La signora (Amal), is mentioned as Clooney's "girlfriend," which, despite the similarity to "fiancée," is the correct translation of "fidanzata" from Italian into English.

Below is the front page of the most local of the local Florence newspapers, La Nazione.

Surprisingly, unlike the competitors, no mention at all of the local soccer team, La Fiorentina; "rificolona," is a local annual festivity, for which according to La Nazione, thousands of people crowded into the local squares (migliaia in piazza).

Clooney is again the top story, even if alluded to indirectly.  The first line says that there was a VIP party in Palazzo Vecchio (a medieval building with tower home to Florence's City Hall)

and, once again, there was an outpouring of emotion from fans bordering on hysteria (delirio).

Undoubtedly not for city mayor Dario Nardella, but but for George Clooney who took the mike to announce that he had met his bride-to-be in Italy, and that they would tie the knot in Italy,

in Venice.

The mayor expressed his disappointment -- and the city's -- that Florence was not to be the venue for the wedding--if not the century--of the decade.

As those who travel to Italy know, the front pages of the local papers are displayed next to newsstands to inform and to entice people to buy and learn the details.

 I saw these three front pages side by side, united by the Clooney

story and the agreement that emotion surrounding his visit was at fever pitch.

No mention anywhere of how much money was raised.

In all my years as a English language reporter in Florence, I had never seen before 

unanimous agreement among competing mastheads of major news outlets.  Unimaginable.

That is what an American movie superstar in odore di nozze (so close getting married that 

the excitement is palpable) can accomplish.

Along the lines of Tyrone Power in Rome and Grace Kelley in Montecarlo.

For a day, we had George Clooney, and high hopes...

               

 Reporting live from Beautiful Florence

                                  -- Rosanna

Tuscan Summer Herbs

Despite all the rain of this unusually wet Tuscan summer, the heat has finally arrived.

While traditional Tuscan crops, from grain to grapes, have suffered damage from the unusual humidity, the herbs that add color and perfume to the Tuscan landscape, have thrived.

One of these is the ubiquitous Tuscan lavender plant (above).

While traditionally used in making scented sachets to add to drawers of clothing,

a cottage industry in the area produces essential oil from the local lavender.  Added to bath water, it is calming and soothing, reputedly acting as a sedative.
I can attest that it works.

Lavender flowers gathered is also used in a time-honored recipe
l'aceto dei setti ladri, which is still sold in Florence.
Composed of camphor, garlic, mint, cinnamon, cloves, absinthe placed in alcohol.
l'aceto dei setti ladri is a popular folk remedy thought to ward off as well as treat many maladies.
The name, "the vinegar of the seven thieves," comes from the fact that burglars in medieval Florence came up with the concoction, which saved them from the plague, or Black Death, allowing them to work undisturbed.

Today, lavender bushes in the Tuscan landscape as pictured above, attract not thieves but beautiful multi-colored butterflies and bees who feed on the flower nectar.

By the way, basil is not a traditional part of the Tuscan summerscape.  Generally grown in pots here to be snipped and added to tomato & mozzarella salad (with Tuscan olive oil of course),
 the herb is strongly identified with the neighboring region
of Liguria, the kingdom of pesto.

A another friend on the summer Tuscan herb landscape is rosemary (above).

It, too, is an ingredient in the l'aceto dei setti ladri.  Growing to bush size when found outdoor and not in a pot in my terrace, small branches of rosemary is utilized to flavor roasts of delicious Tuscan meat.

Rosemary also is prized for its anti-oxidant proprieties, great for skin care, and in combating memory loss and the possible onset of Alzeheimer's disease.
Well, Tuscans, even seniors, have naturally smooth skin and few wrinkles
(keep in mind that plastic surgery is uncommon here),
and in all my time here, have never heard of anyone suffering from
Alzeheimers.  Lifestyle? Diet?  Who knows.
Both are healthy, and incorporate herbs.

Below is a photo of Tuscan sage growing in the wild.
Again part of the recipe of the  l'aceto dei setti ladri,
(still sold in the Santa Maria Novella pharmacy as a remedy for feeling faint), the herb's best known use in the Tuscan kitchen is in a dish of hot ricotta and spinach ravioli,
sauced with the customary melted butter and sage leaves.

Sage is chopped up to add to meat stuffing, while a popular Tuscan antipasto is composed of  just-fried, tender sage leaves.

While tramping through Tuscan fields, I came across a snail shell.  Unlike the French,
the Tuscans do not eat snails, and shudder at the thought, although there are plenty of them around as close as the backyard.

The snail had done a good thing to take refuge in a cool, shaded underbrush, away from the blazing Tuscan heat and light so dear to fields of sunflowers.

I found the snail shell to be poetic.  It also reminded that, under il sole leone (the August sun of Leo), one does best to slow down and seek shade, and get away from the daily routine...
The spiral symbolizes to me life (someone said, "life and energy move in a spiral"), but above all eternity represented by continuity, day in and day out, year after year.

Speaking of continuity, summer is also tax time in Italy.  While on my way to to visit an accountant who prepares all my returns, while crossing the intersection at Piazza Beccaria in Florence to get to
Via Scaloia, I found
landscapers cutting the lavender in neighboring city flower beds.
On my way back, I joined passersby -- all women -- in gathering some of it.
"Why are you doing this?," I asked the gardeners, who smiled and informed me that the lavender plant needs a good pruning in order to flower next year.

I rescued some fragrant lavender to bring to the office.  The first picture is of a clump of flowers against the ubiquitous yellow plaster intonaco of the office courtyard located in Borgo degli Albizi.  The second is some more in a vase, again in the courtyard, taken on an ancient doorstep and old door which happens to be the entrance to premises of an avant-garde arts festival.

The vase is of gold-flecked Murano glass, which I happened to buy in the Galluzzo market many years ago for 30,000 lire (15 euro)!

What I love best about life here is the timelessness
which is priceless
(or costs very little).

reporting live from beautiful Tuscany
                                                              -- Rosanna

A Girl and A Man with a Pearl Earring

Art lover and bon vivant Rita Kungel accompanied your Beautiful Florence blogger to nearby Bologna (1/2 hour from Florence by train) to visit Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring.  The signature work of this Dutch artist, who lived during the 1600s and lived only to the age of 43, is on loan in Emilia Romagna through May 25 from the Mauritshuis museum in the Hague,
currently closed for restoration. 

During our adventure, which continued in Florence, we found three more period paintings featuring subjects -- both female and male -- wearing earrings, and some little-known facts about their iconic forerunner, the original, luminous Girl.

At the press conference, curators told the audience that "99% sure" that the Girl was a figment of Vermeer's imagination.  After all, he and his wife had at least a dozen children, and apart
from earning a living as an artist,
 perhaps Vermeer needed to go off and paint as a respite from the cares of daily life.
Who knows?  Art historians hold, however, that the Girl with a Pearl Earring is an example of the
"tronie" genre diffuse in Holland during this period.  A "tronie" is defined as a painted head or bust of an imaginary figure often wearing exotic costume."

The exhibition in Bologna also displays pieces by Vermeer's contemporaries, including Rembrandt, who is represented by another "tronie," a painted head of an imaginary sitter, also wearing an earring.

The ornament in Rembrandt's depiction is identified as a horn-shaped earring.
Notice Rembrandt's masterly use of light and shadow.

In the title of this post, I did promise the gentle reader a man with a pearl earring.

I did find one, but once back in Florence.

But before Rita and I left the press preview, we came across yet another

woman with a pearl earring exhibited at the Bologna show.

She is the subject of "Woman Writing a Letter," by another of Vermeer's fellow artists,

Gerard ter Borch (1617-1681).  The catalogue explains that during this period Holland was the most literate society in Europe and because the woman is young and attractive, it is supposed that she is writing a love letter (with a quill pen!)

Another fact that was revealed to journalists is that pearls during this era were freshwater, and that large pearls were often made of Venetian glass and painted.  Whether this was the case with the Girl
and "Woman Writing a Letter," I personally like to believe it was not -- and that the pearl is real.
After all, thanks to Vemeer's timeless poetic realism, one would almost expect the Vermeer's Girl to
step out of the canvas and draw a breath...

Though her rarely left his home in Delft, Vermeer's masterful style, even during his lifetime, proved to be far-reaching, down to Italy, influencing the Florentine Baroque artist
 Alessandro Rosi (1627-1707).

How did we find Florence's male counterpart to the Girl with a Pearl Earring?
Sipping an espresso in a café close to the office one day, I perused a local paper and found an article on an acquisition by the renowned, local antique dealer Giovanni Pratesi.

I have known Sig. Pratesi for many years, since he became the head of
Florence's prestigious Antiques Biennale.
I originally met him in 2001 when I wrote about a Michelangelo drawing belonging to a collection in England on display and on sale at the Antiques Biennale for the International Herald Tribune
(now the New York Times International).
.  Sig. Pratesi has a propitious, time-honored custom of purchasing a work for New Year's, as recorded below by Beautiful Florence faithful 
blog photographer Kori Endo.  This year he went to Padua to identify and buy Rosi's
Man with a Pearl Earring. 

Yes, it is pearl earring he is wearing, but he is not an imaginary figure.
Thanks to his fancy dress, the young man is believed to be the paramour of
Antonio de' Medici, a married man and father.
 Antonio, who lived in the shadow of his own powerful father, was the son of Florence's ruler
Francesco de' Medici and his second wife, Bianca Cappello, but born before their marriage.
Francesco and Bianca came to a bad end at the Medici villa Poggio a Caiano, both poisoned by his son  by his first marriage, who succeeded him.

When I asked Sig. Pratesi why he bought the painting, he responded:
 "la bellezza era un motivo valido"
(its beauty was reason enough).  He told me that a pearl was at that time identified with aristocracy in Florence, hence the Medici connection.

The young man's pearl, however, is as dark as his story--that of a love slave--
The Man with a Pearl Earring, was, and even now, is for sale.

A marked contrast to the idealized and light-filled Girl and her Pearl.
She just is.

Even now, during her Italian sojourn,
she currently attracts 3,000 paying visitors a day--5,000 on Sunday.

reporting on assignment from Beautiful Florence
                                                                                                    -- Rosanna