ART IS NOT DEAD At Least, Not In Florence, Italy Excerpt From Londa R. Marks Diary of Florence, Italy Copyright March 18 2014, 6 am CET Written By Londa R. Marks And, then I looked around to the right of me, practically falling into it, because of the sloping entry. It was at that moment I saw that I was a few inches away from Lorenzo de Medicis (Il Magnifico) remains. His tomb was right in front of me as if it jumped out to claim me. Though hidden in the marble casing, his remains were laying next to his brother Giuliano who was brutally stabbed 19 times on Easter Sunday, April 26, 1478. I say remains because the day he died he was scalped for his beautiful hair to put on display in a museum, a finger was removed and a death mask hurriedly captured the moment of death. When I woke up today, I had no idea what I was going to do, as with most days I just do what I feel like by the minute as if I am just being told what to do by something higher than my physical awareness. It occurred to me around 10 am that I had purchased a ticket to the Medici Chapel last week and thought it was possibly for Wednesday of this week. Although I did not know what was in the Medici Chapel, I knew was it was Medici and I had to be there at some point. My computer was where I needed to find the downloaded ticket for this exhibit but Internet connections were failing. Panic set in because It said explicitly on the ticket that no one would be allowed in without their ticket. Eventually, I was able to download the pdf ticket onto my cell phone and run to find the Medici Chapel since the appointment was set for noon. After endlessly pleading for directions along the way, numerous times around several palaces and backtracking around gigantic buildings I found the entry. Yes, there are signs pointing the way, but lets just say they are helpful and leave it at that for now. Arriving at the entry of San Lorenzo is like all entries to works of art here, the line was a mad crush of people trying to be in the next group to go inside. Only a small group are allowed in at one time so that everyone will be able to see the exhibits without a heavy crowd surrounding them for hours. Upon entering, no one cared that I had a ticket, only that you went through the metal detector. Thats Italy. Its that frustrating so much of the time, but in the end its all worth what you go through to get to the end result. A cold mausoleum envelopes you as you wander into The Medici Chapel of Princes. It was interesting but the first line of Medici interest me more than the line of Medici who rose to a level of royalty after Lorenzo Il Magnifico died. As I left the room I saw a sign indicating that Michelangelos work was in the next room so I headed that way. I did not expect to find Lorenzo de Medicis tomb and upon entering was startled by how small the room was right before I fell into Lorenzos tomb. Being there beside Lorenzo was almost an out of body experience where I was hovering over my own body seeing how a part of me was buried; almost like crossing a parallel universe. Then, as if being turned by a hand of an angel I looked to see what the view was from Lorenzo and his brothers tomb. That was a point in time I will not forget. It was as though I was receding into the room. Finding Lorenzos grave shouldve been a happy moment for me. He is my hero. But it was exceptionally heart wrenching. I became overwhelmed with sadness and hated life for being so cruel and flying by so fast. All I could think about was all the hard work Lorenzo, his grandfather Cosimo, Botticelli, Michelangelo and others did which is now just mere crumbles of it all. Luckily, craftsmen work day and night here to maintain it as much as possible. Wandering out into the Duomo piazza a sea of people were swarming around frantically taking photos and in a daze from it all. The phrase, Art is Dead, rang in my mind. It was mentioned to me one time by a dear friend. But, at that moment it did not appear to be so dead. In fact, I have not seen this type of crowd at any one place for art, ever. Deep sadness engulfed me the rest of the day until I told my son of my experience. Wisely he said, “Maybe thats what life is, to do things like the Medici did and leave it for people like you to be a part of.” Having heard that I began to try to understand my sadness from a different perspective while continuing to think about the phrase, “Art is dead.” The more I wonder why people say it, as I have said it, the more have to ask why it is so. Why is art dead? Is it because there are few people alive right now who place enough importance on art to spend the time truly putting their heart and soul into a project as they did long ago? The only answer seems to be that due to the ultra light-speed Internet where everything can be done at a click of a mouse projects are quickly hatched out but lack a soul. In Florence, Italy, I am amazed to find toy makers, paper makers, stationary stores, textiles and fine art studios and gallery boutiques. People here still use tablets and pens to take notes. A verbal contract is the norm. Painters of apartment walls work like they are painting a magnificent fresco even if they are just putting one color on the wall. Much of this is obviously what many, many people are craving and missing in their lives; at least that is what it looks like is happening by the view of thousands flooding the streets of this tiny village day-in and day-out. Arriving here in February I could not believe how many people were out every day. March so far is the same and if this is the down season for tourists I cannot even imagine what tourist season will be like. Art from six hundred years ago is definitely not dead in Florence, Italy. Renaissance art here is affecting me profoundly as it is countless others paying a lot of money to be a part of it, to be amongst it. The question of why art is dead should be seriously addressed by those calling themselves artists. Included is myself, and I have seriously been evaluating my position as an artist. It is up to the artist to create timeless work of art worthy of peoples hard earned money so art is not dead. To release rapid-fire ideas which are good enough, and on the levels of “Will it get into WalMart” is one reason art appears to be dead. Its over-commercialized and in everyones living room in some form or fashion. Therefore it is not unique or of quality. Art is not dead if the artist doesnt allow it to be. Renaissance artists are living proof of it; even dead ones.
Posted on: Wed, 19 Mar 2014 11:57:59 +0000
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