Arno River, Firenze, Italia

Arno River, Firenze, Italia

Monday, September 6, 2010

A green David.


First day of class.  Yes, the profs speak English.  But it is incredibly hard to understand them.  My first class was Florence Sketchbook.  It takes advantage of the city, the architecture, gardens, and beauty of Florence, and allows us to use different medium and emotion to capture it.  Or so the class description said. 

I was slightly dubious of the class at the start when a book and vase was placed on the desk beside me.  I thought, Oh no, here we go again with the still-lifes.  As I angrily drew the items beside me, I started scheduling in my head when I would go to the front office to cancel the torture.  Don’t get me wrong, still-life has its place, but in a beautiful city, it isn’t my intention to sit inside and miss it all. 

Thankfully, the man instructing us was not our prof.  She came an hour late.  And I love her.  All smiles and extremely helpful, she outlined our syllabus, setting up the semester for us.  Still-lifes are only for the rainy days.  And even then, she would rather us go to a museum to draw than sit in the studio.  The class will use graphite, charcoal, pastels, watercolors, Chinese ink, gouache, and more.  Definitely beyond the simple HB graphite pencil I had been given.

As I read through the class supply list, I realized I have nearly everything required.  Minor detail.  It’s all locked in a storage unit in Seattle.  Art supplies are expensive.  Although I had no way of knowing exactly what I would need.  Guess I have a lot of drawing and painting to do.

The pictures are from our night stroll last night to the Piazzale Michelangiolo which overlooks the city and has its own David (a green David, that is).  We hiked up to the top just in time to see the sun set.  There was a bar (doesn’t just serve alcohol, but is almost the American equivalent of a caffe with sandwiches, gelato, and snacks) and quite a few vendors in the area.  One restaurant with seating overlooking the entire city was playing Frank Sinatra and other smooth jazz classics.  Couples and families sat all over the stairs, some with picnic dinners or wine, enjoying the music and the view.  It was so peaceful, above the city noise of bars (the ones serving only alcohol, confusing, I know), scooters, and cars.  

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