The Medici villa contained a variety of frescoes from Portormo, other Mannerists, and eighteenth century artists who renovated the piano terra, which I assume was a working agricultural hub for the Villa and its tenuta during the 16th century. I do not like most Mannerist art and had gone to see the villa's gardens, which were unfortunately closed. However, I was able to see them from the villa's terrazzo and windows. It was a sunless day, and mist hung beneath the branches of the pines, willows, and cedars. Clouds cloaked and shifted through the surrounding hillsides, their hazy opalescence dissolving into the green olive groves. It was cold, and later I took a walk in Carmignano, smoking a toscano and admiring the subtle January day.
In the courtyard of the Medici Villa, a group of Chinese had gathered to take photos and videos of two newly weds and the wedding party. They all wore Western attire: tuxedos and enormous white gowns that gathered the dirt and lichen from the paving stones. The groom sported a large Louis Vuitton beltbuckle and crushed satin lapels. For hours a cameraman and a photographer took footage of the couple in between their phone calls. The groom looked miserable, the bride of honor looked chilly, and the bride herself determined. Her hair sparkled with spray-in diamonds. At the villa's gates, they posed in front of their white limo, the bride beaming, the groom now desperate. When they drove away, the cameraman chased the limo down the street to capture every moment.
After our trip, I walked home from the bus station at Santa Maria Novella. I bought a copy of Bagheria by Dacia Maraini, which I need to begin before the semester does. In a few hours, I'll cook dinner. I don't know if I will see my roommates tonight, since the Pitti Imagine Uomo fashion show began today (http://www.pittimmagine.com/it/fiere/uomo/). Ferragamo probably resembles a kicked ant pile.
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