Laughs echo off of the brightly painted, gold-trimmed walls of Teatro Comunale in Cagli. The voices of British actors Julian Curry and Mary Chater fill the room, passionately describing their love for Shakespeare and Italy. Both have spent their artistic lives working with his plays, and in doing so drew a significant connection between the two.

“Shakespeare wouldn’t have been Shakespeare without Italy,” says Curry. “I feel it’s a bit messianic… I feel we’re sowing the good word about Shakespeare in Italy,” adds Chater.

The couple’s program, Shakespeare in Italy, aims to keep Shakespeare’s work alive in the Le Marche region. Not only will they present his plays, but they also have created a program for English-speaking students. The program allows participants to study selected plays and identify the influence that Italy and Shakespeare have on one another.

The beautifully detailed ceilings of the Cagli theater, enclosed by a section of the 500 seats that encircle the stage.

Tucked into the valleys of central Italy, Renaissance towns Cagli and Urbino are the ideal setting for a cultural association dedicated to the profound connection between Shakespeare and Italy. Teatro Comunale in Cagli is where the program’s plays take place, whereas Urbino University is where students will be attending lectures and discussions.

After years of playing the roles sculpted by Shakespeare, Curry and Chater both have a first-hand understanding of the different aspects and angles that mold each play.

Aside from being overflowing with Renaissance art and culture, Shakespeare critics may wonder why Urbino and Cagli were the areas of choice for such a program.

At least 13 out of his 38 plays are partially or wholly set in Italy. Romeo and Juliet’s forbidden love bloomed in the balconies of Verona. The manipulation to obtain power in Othello occurred among the canals of Venice. Still, there is no obvious mention of the Le Marche region within Shakespeare’s work—or is there?

Curry and Chater pop up in their seats, exchanging enthusiastic looks before sharing their insights into what from this quaint region of Italy may have been one of the greatest influences on the playwright’s career: Baldassarre Castiglione’s The Courtier, a book published in 1528 in which a main character is Duke Federico of Urbino.

“This book is about how Duke Federico in the mid-1400s organized his court,” explains Chater. “He  built an amazing Ducal Palace. In this palace, he made sure everyone could sword fight, read, play music, sing, dance–everybody, not just the famous or rich. Castiglione’s book told you about how society could be ordered if you had this wonderful way of educating people.”

Curry and Chater are not the only Shakespeare experts who believe he read the book and was influenced greatly by its lessons in how to organize a court. This view is shared by, among others, Sylvia Morris, author of The Shakespeare Blog and a contributor to Cambridge University Press’s recent book Shakespeare and the Digital World.

One crucial aspect of The Courtier was the requirement that a gentleman portray himself as humble and with ease rather than effort. As Morris discusses in her blog, this idea is paralleled in Shakespeare’s own work, Richard III, as Richard cannot ascend at court because he does not possess the attributes that are described by Castiglione. He is not graceful or put together, and as a result becomes a villain of the play.

Manager of Shakespeare in Italy, Sandro Pascucci, as he shares his knowledge and experience with Teatro Comunale in his 15 years as manager.

The Courtier also may have helped Shakespeare in his own aspiration to reach the top, guiding him on how to be a gentleman himself after starting in the lower class. In any case, this direct connection to Urbino demonstrates the local air that entered Shakespeare’s artistic lungs, giving his work life at its core, and still now striving to keep those works alive.

While settings are the obvious connection between Shakespeare and Italy, the themes are in fact where the relationship lies.

“It [Shakespeare’s work] is a heartbeat… it’s for all of us,” says Chater as she smiles at the thought of Shakespeare’s universal themes, their applicability, and how they unite everyone.

Common motifs that stitch together the playwright’s work include power struggles, love, guilt, and retribution. These are themes that remain relevant regardless of place or time. Moreover, they are themes that, although couched in Italian settings, spoke to issues arising in England at the time.

Urbino University’s English literature professor Roberta Mullini contends that Shakespeare’s strategy of using Italian settings and characters was the playwright’s creative way of magnifying the issues of his own country.

“I think that even if they [Italian stories] have the flavor of Italy, they are actually to talk about England… to talk about English history, because he [Shakespeare] couldn’t do that. I think he had both aspects in mind: the Italian flavor and the English underneath that, and the possibility of talking about his own country,” Mullini explains as she opens the shutters of her dimly lit office, allowing the smoldering heat and bright sunlight of mid-afternoon Urbino to illuminate the room.

Mullini, who has taught Shakespeare since 1976, gazes out the window as she speaks, eyes floating over the cobblestone roads and endless hills of central Italy that disappear into the blue sky just as her words trail off.

One work that comes to mind when considering this theory is The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, believed to be written in 1599, that is partially set in Rome.

The play demonstrates issues that were prevalent in England at this time, such as power struggles and uncontrollable rulers. It also put emphasis on the issue of succession to the throne, which was a concern of England with Elizabeth I at the time.

The play’s assassination of Caesar begs the question of what Shakespeare was trying to inspire within his own country, whether it be a rebellion or just a simple seed planted in the minds of a few, and it is arguable that he used his plays as a roadmap to justice.

Others experts, such as artistic director of Shakespeare in Italy Bill Alexander, assert that Shakespeare is among various writers of the early modern period who were influenced by Italy.

“It was the center of the Renaissance thought and the revival of classical learning,” says Alexander.

Chater believes that it was Italy’s alluring atmosphere, both in attitudes and in developments, that drew those from England in, just as it drew her and Curry. It filled them with curiosity and wonderment until they would overflow without the ability to channel it in some way, such as writing plays.

Sandro Pascucci, manager of Teatro Comunale and the Shakespeare in Italy program, gestures towards the sea of seats and brightly lit ceiling of the Cagli theater. As he does so, he references the 500 people it can hold, as well as its history, going back to its opening in 1878.

The intricately carved balconies that line the walls of Teatro Comunale.

This summer will be the program’s second time inviting students to immerse themselves in Urbino for two weeks of lectures, discussions, and practical work on scenes of Shakespeare’s plays. They will focus on Othello, The Taming of the Shrew, and The Winter’s Tale. The program runs from June 30 to July 14.

Pascucci says the history of theaters in the Le Marche region makes it the perfect area for a project such as this one. Although small, the area has the most historical theaters in all of Italy, 80 in all. Teatro Comunale specifically was most recently restored in 1999, a project in which Pascucci participated.

“The main difference between this program and others is that it gives students the opportunity to study Shakespeare in a place that influenced him,” says Pascucci, who has been a manager for 40 years, experiencing a variety of  programs.

This unique characteristic allows students to envision what Shakespeare was so taken by, the aspects of the Renaissance that drew him in and inspired him to create the works that they will analyze in depth, picking out each correlation along the way. Specifically, Urbino is filled with art, culture, and previously mentioned influential landmarks such as the Duke’s Palace. These students will have the advantage of walking the same streets as people who were so deeply influential to Shakespeare’s work, such as Castiglione.

“It’s in a place that makes you feel the time in which he lived,” says Pascucci, and thanks to Shakespeare in Italy, a place that continues to keep him alive.

Slideshow

This article also appears in Urbino Now magazine’s Urbino Centro section. You can read all the magazine articles in print by ordering a copy from MagCloud.

The post The Shakespeare Connection appeared first on Urbino Project 2015.

Natalia Gasparucci is strolling the quiet streets of Sant’Ippolito, leading an informal tour of the stonework that decorates the city’s houses and ancient walls. She points to a keystone over a doorway and explains the carvings on its front. The grapevine in the center suggests that the people who commissioned this keystone were involved with making wine, and the letters “CD” stand for the family name. She says with pride that this work dates back to the mid 1700s.

On the building’s wall just to the left of the keystone is a sculpture of a Madonna. She is intricately carved and detailed, wearing a patterned dalmatica, or dress, that is covered in stars and small crosses. And she holds her baby, as many Madonnas do. This Madonna’s eyelids are closed, the trademark characteristic of a local artist known for such sculptures.

In response to a visitor’s question, Gasparucci looks from the sculpture down at her hands. With a small smile she confirms that this is her work. While happy to show off the ancient carvings in the city, she was hesitant to point out an example of her own work that was perched less than two feet away. In fact, Gasparucci’s Madonnas can be seen adorning many homes and structures throughout the city.

Natalia Gasparucci is a stone sculptor in Sant’Ippolito, a town rooted in tradition of this art and rich with history that dates back to the 13th century.

That humility is also one of Gasparucci’s trademarks, though she has many other defining characteristics. Her short, bleached-blonde hair is dazzling in the sunlight. The creative fire inside of her is much bigger than her petite build. She is full of energy, and apparently willing to talk about anything with anyone, even people who are practically strangers. With her thick black eyeliner and Crocs almost as colorful as her personality, you’d never guess that she is a grandmother.

Gasparucci moves away from the old doorframe, takes a sharp right turn down a small hill, and passes through the open doors of her studio, Bottega Artistica Della Pietra, the Artistic Studio of Stone. It is time to continue her work.

The studio sits right outside the old walls of Sant’Ippolito, a city with centuries of stone carving history and traditions. It is also the place where Gasparucci was born and has flourished. She raised a family and still lives in the house above her studio. Sant’Ippolito was once overflowing with studios and sculptors. Today, the studio Gasparucci owns is the only one remaining within the town; only a couple of other sandstone sculptors have studios in the area.

Gasparucci picks up a chalk-covered drill and drives it through a block of pietra arenaria, sandstone, breaking off small chunks. The noisy drill overpowers the chirping of birds outside the shop doors. Her gloved hands fly in every direction. Silver bracelets on her arms clink lightly, partially covering the tattoo that stretches from the top of one wrist to the middle of her forearm, a flower with vines. Her voice reaches every corner of the large room as she explains her process. Then she brushes away the dust that has collected on top of the piece to reveal the outline of an olive branch. This piece will be a keystone.

Sant’Ippolito was once the patria, homeland, of stone carving in Italy. At its height, the city was home to more than 30 studios and many well-known sculptors. One of these artists was Amoretto, who was called from Sant’Ippolito in the 14th century to do work at the Palace of the Pope in Avignon, France.

According to Renzo Savelli, a researcher and author on the topic of scalpellini, or stonemasons, there were large quantities of high-quality sandstone in the territory around Sant’Ippolito. It was because of this kind of stone that traditions grew so strong in the area starting in the 1300s.

During the 15th century the artists in Sant’Ippolito, through their connection with Florentine sculptors, developed their techniques. The old houses that still exist in the city once belonged not to middle class citizens, but to the elite class of carvers in the city. Wealthy barons commissioned artists to create sculptures for their houses, keystones, and doorframes. Artists traded with each other—sculptures for everyday items like flour and grain.

Savelli explains that sandstone carving declined after the 17th century when marble became more fashionable. However, sandstone carving’s small flame continued to burn, and the art made a comeback in the last part of the 20th century.

Twenty-five years ago, an art professor with the help of town administrators and the Pro Loco of Sant’Ippolito, a group that organizes events for the city, picked up a project that Gasparucci has never put down. The town opened small sculpting studios, at first aimed at teaching middle school students. When the focus shifted to adults, Gasparucci was asked to sculpt in one of the studios. She and her supervisor, Luciano Biagiotti, an art professor from Urbino, were given an abandoned theater right outside of the city walls as their workspace. With this project, the stone carving traditions in Sant’Ippolito were rediscovered.

“It was just as a game,” Gasparucci says laughing, referring to the start of her sculpting career. At the time, she was concentrating on oil painting. She and Biagiotti began sculpting in the theater whenever they had time after dinner.

She was only in the old theater for a short time. Bottega Artistica Della Pietra soon became her working space and has continued to be for 23 years.

Gasparucci has filled one of the three gallery rooms connected to her working space with sculptures of the Madonna of Loreto, a famous symbol of protection for the Le Marche region and for military aviators. Madonna of Loreto has been produced in many forms. Raphael, the celebrated Renaissance painter from Urbino, has his renowned Madonna of Loreto painting in Musée Condé in Chantilly, France. Carvaggio created another famous painting of Madonna of Loreto, which hangs in Rome.

Gaparucci’s Madonna sculptures range in size, some no taller than a bottle of wine. Each is slightly different, although Gasparucci’s overall style and characteristics remain consistent.

Gasparucci’s Madonna sculptures, which she’s most known for, are pieces for sale and exhibition.

The traditional style of Madonna of Loreto has a conic shape to her body. Gasparucci pulls inspiration from this, but sometimes sculpts the figure with her baby and sometimes without. Gasparucci combines Egyptian, Byzantine, and Mayan art in her sculptures, borrowing characteristics from each distinct style.

Some characteristics of the Madonnas are unique to Gasparucci. When the Madonna is not holding a baby, Gasparucci carves her with hands pressed together, as if praying. The faces of Gasparucci’s Madonnas also wear her unique style. Their perfectly smooth faces look peaceful and content, with soft smiles and closed eyes.

“It’s a form of sweetness,” she says about the closed eyes. “It invites you to a moment of reflection, of thinking about something.”

“The special thing about Natalia is that she not only works in the tradition of Madonna, but she introduced new subjects,” says Savelli, who is familiar with Gasparucci’s work. He explains that she is innovative; along with religious subjects, she also sculpts faces of women and men.

“She’s a great artist,” he says. “She deserves to be valued and to be known.”

Over the years, Gasparucci has been recognized for her hard work.

“My life is full of events,” she says when asked about her favorite memory or exhibition. Her work has taken her all over the globe to places like Korea, France, the United States, and every region of Italy. Gasparucci donated a sculpture to the Pope’s Palace in Avignon, France, and has been recognized with national awards. She has been interviewed by daily newspapers and popular magazines like AD, Grazia, Tutto Turismo, and Itinerari. Her work can also be found in the bank of Sant’Ippolito and many museums in the Le Marche region. One of her sculptures is in a specialized museum in Ancona, Italy, that caters to those who love art even though they can’t see it.

The director of the Museo Tattile Statale Omero, the State Tactile Museum, asked the town of Sant’Ippolito to donate a piece of art. Gasparucci sculpted Virgo Lauretana, a Madonna of Loreto holding her baby. Gasparucci explains that she spent a lot of time perfecting the details in the sculpture. She says the dalmatica had to be extra detailed, as blind people would only be able to enjoy it by touch.

Gasparucci has also donated a sculpture of Madonna of Loreto as homage to Pope John Paul II. This sculpture, presented as a gift from Gasparucci and the Le Marche region, now sits in the Vatican in Rome. Despite the world’s acknowledgement of her talent, Gasparucci remains humble.

“If I am famous, I’m still modest,” she says. “I am not so self promoting.” She says she is not driven by money so much as her passion for sculpture.

“Masterpieces only come once,” she says. Special works are linked to special feelings and states of mind, and Gasparucci says they are very different from works that are commissioned. If someone wants to purchase a work that she has a special connection to, she will not sell it.

One of these personal pieces is a sculpture of the bottom half of a face, from right underneath the nose down to the chin. The lips are plump, the mouth shaped in a serious line. In the same gallery room just behind this sculpture is another of a whole face. The chin, lips, nose, and eyebrows are visible, but the rest of the skinny features are covered in strips of stone fabric. Both sculptures were produced at important times in Gasparucci’s life, and for this reason she will never sell them.

While she still sculpts often, Gasparucci isn’t as busy with her work as she once was. She spends a lot of time with her family, particularly her grandson, Jacopo.

“Come take a photo with your poor grandmother,” she says to Jacopo during a break from her work. The five-year-old is not interested in being obedient. He is far too preoccupied with his friends playing nearby in the park. Wearing thick, black-rimmed glasses and a polo-style shirt with the collar turned up, he stomps over to Gasparucci with crossed arms. She takes his hand and proudly explains that he likes to play with her sculpting tools and leftover stone. He also asks a lot of questions about what she does.

“He’s very intelligent,” Gasparucci says.

Gasparucci starts by using a drill, but the rest she does by hand. Sculptures take anywhere from a week to 15 days.

After about 45 seconds of pleasing his grandmother, Jacopo runs back to his friends. 
Gasparucci puts her thick cloth gloves back on and returns to the keystone she’s been working on. Her small, fluffy white dog, Cica, finds a spot on the floor by her feet for a nap.

Instead of the loud drill, she pulls out a pointed tool and mallet. She chips away small pieces of the stone, the olive branch becoming more visible with each smack of the mallet. The afternoon sun warms the entire studio; sculptures in various stages of production reflect the rays in different ways. The only sounds are that of the mallet hitting the metal, the metal chipping the stone.

An expression of concentration takes over Gasparucci’s whole face. Her mouth forms a tight, serious line, her nose scrunched, her eyes, smudged with black eyeliner, unblinking through her glasses. She uses a brush to loosen chunks from the top of the sculpture and then runs over the smooth stone with her gloved hand. Her lips turn up into a small, satisfied smile.

Slideshow

This article also appears in Urbino Now magazine’s Urbino Centro section. You can read all the magazine articles in print by ordering a copy from MagCloud.

The post Carved in Stone appeared first on Urbino Project 2015.

URBINO, Italy – Overheard in the classical Piazza della Repubblica are hundreds of Italian conversations. One young woman is seen wearing a t-shirt that says “Be Happy. It Drives People Crazy.” A man has a Chicago Bulls flat brim cap on. A young teenager’s shirt says, “I’m not young enough to know everything.”

What is going on here?

To an American who might not understand a word they’re saying, the messages on their t-shirts are easy to understand.

Stefano Gamba is proud of the way his t-shirt shop keeps up with the latest Italian fads.

“Just take a look around and you’ll see most t-shirts worn here have prints related to the United States,” said one male Urbino resident in his mid-20s who is wearing a New York Yankees t-shirt, speaking through an interpreter.

Beatrice Rinaldi, a 20-year-old University of Urbino student studying foreign languages who works at Einstein Space, a boutique shop in a small village near Bologna, notices the growth in this trend.

“In the last three or four years, the number of shirts written in English has increased more and more,” says Rinaldi. “If you go into any shop that sells clothing, you’ll find a great percentage of shirts written in English or related to the American culture.”

Emporio Gamba, a local t-shirt shop, is helping to spread this Americanization. Stefano Gamba, the shop’s owner, buys new t-shirts every week. He keeps up with the latest fashion trends with help from his two daughters, ages 14 and 20, who give him a hand in choosing the shirts. Though all the shop’s t-shirts are made in Italy, Gamba said that 80-90 percent of the shirts are related to America.

“People come into the shop to buy a t-shirt written in English and ask me what it means,” he says through an interpreter. “I don’t know what it means.”

Rinaldi agrees. “The interesting aspect is that they’re not interested in what is written on them, they just like the print or style of the shirts,” she says.

In a country famous for its high-end Prada and Gucci couture, it is surprising to see Miami Heat basketball jerseys, I ‘heart’ NY tees, and “#selfie” tank tops in place of the leather bags, snakeskin heels, and fur jackets one might expect of Italian fashion.

Many Italian teenagers wear t-shirts expressing their dream to visit America and experience all it has to offer.

Other t-shirt messages seen around the piazza: “Never stop dreaming,” “Holy Chic,” “I am not Joe,” “Do more of what makes you happy,” “good vibes only.”

Enrica Rossi, an English and Language Methodology professor at the University of Urbino, says that the tension between Italy’s high fashion and American pop culture is especially strong in young Italians.

“On one side, is the Italian fashion,” she says. “From childhood on, everyone recognizes and attributes it to Italy. On the other, is this t-shirt culture of shirts related to America. Wearing these t-shirts is a way to break the idea of everything that has to do with the stereotypical Italian formal fashion.”

Talk to a lot of people on the cobblestone streets here, and you notice that many feel the English language is cool, even if they don’t speak it. Most wearing t-shirts with words choose a shirt written in English rather than Italian. They say English is funnier, cuter, more influential, and more elegant.

These qualities, in turn, correlate to an idea of American culture.
    
Just as Americans may fantasize over the Italian ways of life – the delicious food, the regional wine, and the gorgeous views – the reverse is true as well. “In a certain way, Italians are obsessed with the American culture and with the American lifestyle, two aspects that we can relate to the idea of the ‘American Dream’,” says Rinaldi.
    

Italians, especially Italian teens and young adults, often watch American TV shows, and get a certain idea of American culture – whether or not their ideas are true. And in fact, oftentimes they are not. “Our young people watch shows like Jersey Shore and think that a lot of culture has to do with people getting drunk and getting on drugs,” says Rossi.

This explains a lot. Emporio Gamba’s most popular shirt shows Marilyn Monroe decorated in tattoos. The combination of Monroe and tattoos is disconcerting, but to Italians, it is apparently a powerful grouping of American rebellion.
    
Historically, and still the case today, Italian people are strongly linked to their families. The bond between generations in families perpetuates traditions, rules and customs. This is not the case in America, and Italian teens apparently long for this implied liberation from their inheritance.
    
Italian students believe that Americans leave their homes at the age of 16 and sometimes never return. In a country that leads their children to thinking they will never have to care for themselves, this is a shocking idea, though pleasing to many.

“Italians, particularly teenagers, are absolutely fascinated with this world which they don’t know,” Rossi says, remembering the t-shirts she wore when she was young. “Wearing these t-shirts is making them feel more independent and connected to the American culture.”

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Video (By Stephanie Smith & Thomas Fitzpatrick)

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URBINO, Italy - The room is small and square and smells of wood. From the floor to just above the heads of spectators, intricate inlaid patterns cover all four walls. Giving the illusion of three dimensions, the detailed marquetry depicts suits of armor spilling from closets, books stacked on shelves, open cabinet doors revealing musical instruments, and swords appearing to lean against the walls. But lately, all eyes have been drawn upwards, past these carved scenes to 28 large rectangular portraits that fill the top half of every wall. The subjects gaze down, each an important man from the past, ranging from philosophers, to writers, to Popes.

The portraits, coupled with the inlaid images, give an insight into the mind of the room’s creator, the former duke of Urbino, Federico da Montefeltro. Federico chose these men to adorn his studiolo, his cherished private study, because they epitomized the ideas he valued. The portraits hung proudly on the study’s walls until the last duke of Urbino died in the 1630s. They were then taken from the palace; 14 were later returned, leaving the room—and its representation of Federico’s guiding principles—incomplete.

The detailed woodwork that lines the walls of the Studiolo were designed by Florentine artists and then carved by students in an apprenticeship.

Now, for the first time in 400 years and thanks to the cooperation of the Louvre in Paris, the study can be seen in its entirety. All 28 “Uomini Illustri,” or Illustrious Men, have been hanging proudly on the walls since March and will continue on display until early July. According to Cecilia Prete, professor of modern art history and museology at the University of Urbino, few studies exist today like this, one that can be seen almost exactly as it was when first built and used by Federico.

Federico was a true Renaissance man. He was a dedicated scholar, a fierce warrior, and an admirer and supporter of the arts. He commissioned the Palazzo Ducale, home to the famous study, to be built in the 1450s. He hired architects Bartolomeo, Laurana, and Giorgio Martini with intentions of bringing new life to the city. Federico began construction on the studiolo in 1476. It would become one of the most famous studies in the Marche region because of its meaning, detail, and cultural value.

Bonita Cleri, researcher and professor of art of the le Marche region at the University of Urbino, explained that the restoration of the studiolo, with all 28 paintings, looks almost identical to the way it did during the reign of Montefeltro. When paintings are absent from the studiolo, they are replaced with monochrome prints, which are far less impressive than the originals.

The duke built this study as a place to be alone and spend time devoted to his soul. According to Cleri, it was not a place to go to read and write, but to think, meditate, and be inspired. His inspiration was drawn from the illustrious men that hovered above him. Like teenagers choose posters of people and places that speak to them, Federico chose his illustrious men for values he admired.

The exhibit, which only lasts from March 12th to July 4th, gives tourists only a few months to visit the study completed.

Originally, each portrait was accompanied by a description carved beneath it, said Prete. Federico chose Augustine “for his sublime doctrine and for his luminous search for celestial words,” Moses “for saving the people and providing them with divine laws,” Pope Pius II “because he increased his realms by war and adorned it with the marks of eloquence.” Dante was included “on account of the verses he produced and the poetry he wrote for the people with diverse learning” and Aristotle “for the philosophy handed down in the proper and exact manner.”

After making his fortune as a condottieri, a warlord, Federico took to the arts. According to Cleri, the study was meant to represent the classical, humanistic concept of Otium—leisurely contemplation. It was also a place he could use to demonstrate his values, culture, passions, and accomplishments to the outside world. At the time, Federico favored Flemish painting techniques over the Italian style because their use of oil on wood gave paintings a glossy look. The duke commissioned Giusto di Gand from Flanders to create the portraits of 28 men who inspired him.

In 1631, after the last duke Francesco Della Rovere died, authority over the region was transferred to the Church. The pope sent his nephew, Cardinal Antonio Barberini to Urbino to take power. He ended up taking much more. Barberini cut out of the walls the 28 paintings in the studiolo and sent them to his palace in Rome, where they stayed for most of the 18^th century. After a family quarrel over inheritance, the 28 paintings were split up.

Fourteen of the portraits stayed in the home of Barberini until a decree allowed them to be released by the public and sold on the market. They were eventually found and bought by the Italian state, which sent them back to the National Gallery of Le Marche, which is housed within Urbino’s Palazzo Ducale. The other 14 were bought by a wealthy family and traveled through the hands of a banker, a pawnbroker, and finally Napoleon III, who entrusted his collection to the Louvre. Fortunately, National Gallery Superintendent Maria Rosaria Valazzi, had spent time studying at the Louvre and even worked as an intern there. In part through her connections, the 14 portraits in the Louvre were recently returned to Urbino—temporarily—in order to re-create the studiolo in its entirety.

For the residents of Urbino, this event is special because they have regained a missing piece of their past. To Prete, the study is a mirror of Federico, a mirror that has now been fully reconstructed. She describes the return of the 28 illustrious men, even if only for four months, as “a victory.”

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Video (By Isabella Ciano & Katie Potter)

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]]> https://projects.ieimedia.com/2015urbino/studiolo/feed/ 0 https://projects.ieimedia.com/2015urbino/la-muta/ https://projects.ieimedia.com/2015urbino/la-muta/#comments Mon, 22 Jun 2015 14:58:33 +0000 http://2015.inurbino.net/?p=2211 A Raphael portrait, restored and less of a mystery, returns to his hometown.

URBINO, Italy – This is the birthplace of the Renaissance painter Raphael, but Urbino holds only three of his original paintings. One of these is a famous ... Read More

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]]> A Raphael portrait, restored and less of a mystery, returns to his hometown.

URBINO, Italy – This is the birthplace of the Renaissance painter Raphael, but Urbino holds only three of his original paintings. One of these is a famous work called La Muta, meaning “The Silent One.”

It has been doubted as a work of Raphael. It has been hauled around war-torn Europe. It was taken in recent years to Florence – the place that can often make Urbino feel like the forgotten city of the Renaissance – for restoration.

But finally, with questions about “the Silent One” answered at last, it is back in Raphael’s native home. 

Maria Claudia Caldari poses in front of La Muta advertisement outside the Palazzo Ducale.

La Muta is a portrait of a sitting woman with no expression. The background is calm. Intriguing to viewers yet questionable to past critics, the painting is a classic Renaissance work.

Prior to 1927, Urbino did not hold any of Raphael’s paintings. At the time, they were located in big cities like Florence, famous for its Renaissance art and architecture. 

According to Maria Claudia Caldari, superintendent for the Historical Anthropological Heritage of Le Marche at the Palazzo Ducale in Urbino, residents of Urbino at the time were complaining that they did not have any Raphael paintings.

In response, in 1927 the leader of Fascist Italy, Benito Mussolini, ordered that La Muta be brought back to Urbino. Caldari emphasizes that Mussolini chose La Muta because of its connection with the Palazzo Ducale and the time period in which historians say it was painted.

The painting, like many from the Renaissance, had lost its quality. It became greatly damaged due to old age and travelling from place to place.

But a few years ago, the staff of the palace in Urbino decided the painting should be restored to its original state. The restoration took place in Florence, funded by a Japanese television network.

Photos and x-rays of La Muta revealed the primary damages – a large number of holes. Caldari argues that layers of dust caused the holes, making the work fragile.

“The removal of dust revealed what it used to be like,” Caldari said. “Just the initial cleaning made a difference. Restoration is important because you can see the techniques of the painter in a way that you could not before.”

With a bit more detail on the woman in the painting, La Muta was on its way to its full potential. Previously, there was no evidence supporting the assumption that it was Raphael’s work. The revelation of detail allowed critics to identify him as the painter through the choice of colors on the woman, signifying the artist’s trends in the period when it was made.

Along with the attribution to Raphael, the restoration revealed how it was painted. It is now recognized that the woman was painted twice. X-rays found that the original neckline was painted over and the laces were made more prominent. When she was painted the second time, the color of the woman’s corset was changed from brown to green.

Maria Giovanna Luminati stands under the arch entering Urbino, proudly welcoming guests and visitors.

Caldari explains that green was used to represent a state of grief, leading critics to believe that the woman was married during the initial painting and widowed when she was painted the second time. The rings worn by the woman also represent grieving. 

When the restoration confirmed that La Muta was painted sometime between 1505 and 1507 in Florence, the nature of the painting unfolded. Historians recognize that Raphael was in Florence at the time, learning from Da Vinci. The expression of the woman in La Muta is one classically portrayed by Da Vinci, signifying his fascination with widows and his influence on Raphael at the time.

“The movements of the thoughts were very important so they could be represented on the face of the person,” said Maria Giovanna Luminati, an Urbino native working as a tour guide.

The idea of the widow and the time frame of the painting helped to determine the identity of the woman in the painting. Though historians are still unsure of the identity, some believe she was named Giovanna Feltria. The story behind the woman is unknown, other than her relation to the painters in Florence at the time.

People who live in Urbino are proud to have La Muta and to claim Raphael. The recent restoration of the painting has increased their pride as it underscored the great work of the homegrown painter with every stroke and every detail.

“Everyone was happy for its return,” said Tesco Rizzi, an employee of the house where Raphael was born, Casa Natale di Raffaello on the steep Via Raffaello. “It belongs in Urbino.”

In March, La Muta was returned to Urbino after a year of restoration in Florence and several complaints by residents due to its absence, according to Caldari. It is now on display in the Palazzo Ducale where tourists as well as residents can marvel at its serenity and its history. 

“It is a wonderful painting to look at,” said Luminati, the tour guide. “Some people are strongly aware of the importance of the paintings inside the palace, some others are not. But still, they are all devoted to Raffaello.”

Slideshow

See the video “Organic Gelato Shop” produced by Rachel Dale & Kaitlin Kling.

The post La Muta Speaks appeared first on Urbino Project 2015.

URBINO, Italy – Walking down one of the many mysterious alleyways of this city, you come across a large intricate wooden door that is open. Italian music and the rhythmic hit of a hammer radiate from the entryway. 

Inside, a little old man is springing from machine to machine, table to table. Wood shavings blanket the floor. Tools cover the walls. The studio is organized chaos.

With a pencil between his lips, Angelini Domenico looks up from his hunched stance and greets you with a curious glance.

Domenico shaving a freshly cut piece of wood.

Inside the dimly lit studio, chairs are stacked, large wooden frames are propped against the wall, wooden planks are lying on the dusty floor, and cage-like globes line the back wall. Domenico, an 85-year-old Urbino native, rushes to grab one of these objects, dusts it off and hands it to you, speaking with enthusiasm and pointing to the different curvatures all intricately connected.

Around the corner from Domenico’s studio stands a very different shop. Unlike Domenico’s workshop, the Bartolucci company store keeps regular hours, welcomes customers, and displays its products by the hundreds in a gleaming bright store behind a plate-glass window. It can capture anyone’s attention. Cuckoo clocks line every inch of wall space while a variety of Pinocchios greet each passerby. 

Yet both places represent two ends of the spectrum of an Italian pride in traditional craftsmanship, in this case, woodworking. One is the work of a single elderly man who seems not to care about the marketplace. The other, the Bartolucci company, founded by Francesco Bartolucci in Belvedere Fogliense, approximately 13 miles from Urbino, produces up to 2,000 mostly carved wooden items to sell in 140 stores worldwide.

Classic miniature Pinocchio’s sold at the Bartolucci company. Each is crafted and painted by hand.

The Bartolucci company was originally inspired by the popular Italian story of Pinocchio, the boy-marionette created by a poor woodcarver named Geppetto and brought to life. After hand-carving and selling his very first Pinocchio in his father’s workshop in 1981, Francesco Bartolucci built and developed his company for 35 years into the large corporation it is today.

Bartolucci recently adapted a process to combine hand-made and manufacturing techniques. This blend allows the products to be easier and cheaper to produce while maintaining traditional Italian craftsmanship.

“All our products were and still are the result of craftsmanship,” said Maria Bartolucci, the daughter of Francesco Bartolucci. “We believe that it is this craftsmanship which is one of the essential foundations of our brand.”

Domenico, the solitary craftsman, has been a carpenter since he was 17, attending a professional art school that was offered to those who did not have enough money to go to a university. After working with a partner for 18 years, he opened his current studio when he was 35 and has been there ever since.

He has no store hours, windows to display his work, or even a sign above his door. He is not doing this work for prestige or money. 

Domenico hunched over a piece of wood in the middle of shaving the rough edges.

“When I was young, everyone had the motivation to learn,” he says. “Now, people do not have that same passion.” When he talks about society today, he grows distraught, speaking quickly and loudly with his eyebrows furrowed.

“There is not a lot of work for me anymore,” Domenico says. “Industries have destroyed everything.”

Unlike Bartolucci, Domenico does not advertise his handiwork. If someone finds his workshop and offers to buy one of his pieces, he is grateful, he says, but he does this work because he wants to. If he did not have passion, he says, he would not still be doing it. 

Domenico’s clientele is usually churches restoring their interior. They request new frames for the large paintings that hang inside. You can find these arched frames, or the disassembled pieces, throughout his workshop. He will also restore chairs, tables or any other wooden objects. 

”You have to come to me to fix these things because I am one of the only ones left in Urbino,” Domenico says. While he may not be the very last, Domenico recognizes that traditional Italian carpentry is a vanishing art.

Bartolucci’s main clientele vary, “…grandparents who want something for their grandchildren, to adults who want to decorate their home with a touch of extra color, to the moms and dads who want something unique for the bedrooms of their children” Maria says.

While technically a manufacturing company, Bartolucci keeps products as traditional as it can by making the toys in small batches and assembling and painting each by hand. Since the toys are still hand-assembled and painted, they will never be exactly replicated, says Maria.

“Our products give a smile and emotion to those who receive them,” Maria says. “They have warmth of the wood and the beauty of a clean design, bright colors, and smell like things of the past, of those things hand-built by our grandparents.”

Slideshow

Video (By Caroline Davis & Michele Goad)

The post A Pride of Woodworkers appeared first on Urbino Project 2015.