Uffizi, partial view of the tribuna (sculture corridor), taken when the fascist guards' backs were turned. Corn' io divenni allor gelato e fioco, nol dimandar, lettor, ch'i' non lo scrivo, pero ch'ogne parlar sarebbe poco. How weak I now became, how faded, dry -- reader, don't ask, I shall not write it down -- for anything I said would fall far short. Dante, Inferno , Canto 34 I read these lines in the Inferno late yesterday evening, after a day that included my first visit to the Uffizi art museum, and they struck me as appropriate to the cumulative effect of seeing so much familiar art for the first time. We are fortunate to have been given an apartment that is a five minute walk from the Uffizi, though we didn't set off until after midday, on a Saturday afternoon, in July. Possible forecast: raining human beings, take immediate shelter elsewhere. Big surprise: once again, the Amici card permits you to go in through a reserved door, and on...
Artist Philip Hartigan talks about art, interviews other artists, and more