I wanted to be able to share some of the videos I had only posted on facebook, just in case anyone cared to see them.
First off is my multichannel project for Video 2, called "Discrete Definitions"
Then we have my final project for Video 2, "Labors of Love," a short documentary on the process of making my final project, and the evolution of love as we grow up (at least through college):
Last is "Word Association," my final project from Video 1, which was an experimental project intended to test our skills on FCP:
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
A Letter to My Father
Dear Dad,
We watched a collection of Warner Bros. shorts in my History of Animation class this week, and ever since I can't stop thinking about Looney Tunes. And when I think about Looney Tunes, I think about you.
It made me realize that I don't thank you often enough for being such a wonderful father. Sure, there's the grand gestures made on your birthday, or Father's Day, the cards and ties and Brooks Brothers shirts. But I should thank you more than that, because you are an amazing parent on more than two or three days a year.
Watching Bugs and his pals come to life again immediately brought me back to the family room couch, before we shifted everything around, when both overhead lights worked in that room. I remembered discovering humor with you, watching your face as the jokes cracked smiles, and then chuckles, and realizing that same reaction occurring myself. The excitement of sharing these cartoons -- of their belonging just to us. And now, the notion that these cartoons came out when you were young, that you shared part of your childhood with me -- that makes it even more special.
It's the little things, the quiet moments, that I treasure the most. I remember late nights when I was sick, finding comfort in the long cartoon blocks on Cartoon Network. The experiences are intertwined, memories of Marvin the Martian and electric blankets and Coca-Cola running together. I have always been thankful for the lessons you've taught me, for the guidance and acceptance throughout my life. But revisiting these cartoons made me grateful for the less obvious gifts. My sense of humor and love of whimsy were definitely products of those countless ours with Chuck Jones and Tex Avery. And I know I should hold my common sense in highest esteem, but really, if I could only keep one thing it would be my sense of humor.
So thank you, Dad. Thanks for sticking me in front of the boob tube, for letting my brain rot for hours on end. It has made me who I am today, and made me aware of how indebted I am to you for that. I feel blessed, knowing that these cartoons endure through time, that Elmer Fudd will always be hunting wabbits, and that they are a part of my past, present, and future with you.
Love,
Maggie
We watched a collection of Warner Bros. shorts in my History of Animation class this week, and ever since I can't stop thinking about Looney Tunes. And when I think about Looney Tunes, I think about you.
It made me realize that I don't thank you often enough for being such a wonderful father. Sure, there's the grand gestures made on your birthday, or Father's Day, the cards and ties and Brooks Brothers shirts. But I should thank you more than that, because you are an amazing parent on more than two or three days a year.
Watching Bugs and his pals come to life again immediately brought me back to the family room couch, before we shifted everything around, when both overhead lights worked in that room. I remembered discovering humor with you, watching your face as the jokes cracked smiles, and then chuckles, and realizing that same reaction occurring myself. The excitement of sharing these cartoons -- of their belonging just to us. And now, the notion that these cartoons came out when you were young, that you shared part of your childhood with me -- that makes it even more special.
It's the little things, the quiet moments, that I treasure the most. I remember late nights when I was sick, finding comfort in the long cartoon blocks on Cartoon Network. The experiences are intertwined, memories of Marvin the Martian and electric blankets and Coca-Cola running together. I have always been thankful for the lessons you've taught me, for the guidance and acceptance throughout my life. But revisiting these cartoons made me grateful for the less obvious gifts. My sense of humor and love of whimsy were definitely products of those countless ours with Chuck Jones and Tex Avery. And I know I should hold my common sense in highest esteem, but really, if I could only keep one thing it would be my sense of humor.
So thank you, Dad. Thanks for sticking me in front of the boob tube, for letting my brain rot for hours on end. It has made me who I am today, and made me aware of how indebted I am to you for that. I feel blessed, knowing that these cartoons endure through time, that Elmer Fudd will always be hunting wabbits, and that they are a part of my past, present, and future with you.
Love,
Maggie
Thursday, February 11, 2010
James Cameron, World Emperor
A few days after I got home for winter break, I went with my father to see Avatar, the highly anticipated new film by James Cameron. Lame-o that I am, I saw it in 2D -- I find 3D disorienting, and could go into a whole discussion of my thoughts on the new direction of theatrical exhibition, but I'll save that for another post -- and was thoroughly entertained. It wasn't the newest of stories (I swear to God, if I hear one more joke about "Dances With Aliens," I'm gonna smack someone), but it was well-paced, relatively well-acted, and of course, the art direction was mind-blowing, even in traditional 2D. I walked out of the theater feeling like I hadn't wasted those three hours, even if Avatar wasn't the best film I had seen all year.
That was in December.
Cut to mid-January, the start of the new semester. To finish off my college experience, I elected to take four film classes this semester, on a variety of subjects. And since the first day of class, I have experienced an unrelenting barrage of mentions of Avatar. There has not been a single class day that has gone by without a reference to the film in one, if not all of my classes. Sometimes it's a passing comment, sometimes it's the instigator of a larger discussion. And frankly, it's driving me crazy.
Now, as I said before, I'm not an Avatar-hater. I have my qualms with the movie, specifically the script, which relies on tropes of the sci-fi genre and has some troubling racial and Orientalist elements in the depiction of the Na'vi (hey, it's my thesis topic, I'm a little sensitive to these things now). But overall I liked the film. I just don't think it's the type of game changer that should be literally discussed ad nauseum.
In defense of my professors, I understand that the film is revolutionary in many ways. Cameron invented technology specifically for this film, and will no doubt make bundles of cash in the coming decades, much as George Lucas has enjoyed the profits from his technical studios. Once again Cameron has made a film with enormous global appeal, smashing box office records left and right, and surpassing his previous cinematic icon, Titanic. The film has an tremendous cultural imprint, and is very much of the current historical moment, with its themes of environmental conservation, and ostensibly a promotion of multiculturalism. And of course, the sexy blue cat lady, played by arguably sexier in real life Zoe Saldana.
The thing that frustrates me about this constant chatter over Avatar, is all the films that are ignored because of it. I am a fan of blockbuster films, but in an environment like a film class, I want to discuss films that challenge the medium. For all of the whiz-bang effects and snazzy 3D, Avatar is a rather formulaic action/adventure film. I concede that for the industry as a business, it is a revelation, a new standard, a wake-up call for ad-execs. But it provides the same type of characters, the same type of story, the same type of editing as, I don't know, Bad Boys. In my classes I want to comb over films that confront me with issues, that are difficult to get through, that refuse to conform on at least some level. Isn't that why we go to school -- to challenge our minds, to make ourselves work through puzzles in the hope of achieving some sort of better understanding of the world and its workings?
The obvious film to mention in contrast is Kathryn Bigelow's The Hurt Locker. I saw this film way back in August. It is a film that refuses to settle for tried and true formulas. It is a war film that has no epic battle scenes, a suspense film where the pay-off is often the lack of explosions, a character-driven story where we learn more from actions of a few scant minutes than the backstory presented at the end of the picture. And most importantly, the end of the picture is unsettling to some degree. It does not fulfill our expectations of the happy American ideal. The Hurt Locker is also not my favorite film of the year, and certainly not the most challenging film I've watched, but for a relatively mainstream release, in my mind it offers far more to dig through than Avatar. (random trivia: Bigelow and Cameron were married for a few years)
Or at least let's talk about the problems with Avatar, or even its successes, in terms of their intricacies, instead of throw-away lines like "doesn't this remind you of Avatar?" and "I bet you're all thinking of James Cameron." Tell me why it reminds you. Give me details I can pore over, or debate. Do films like Avatar provide a cinema of attractions for today? Is 3D spectatorship the same as 2D? Why in particular has this film become a catch-all for pop-culture references? Why does it have this incredible grip on society (for a creepy example: http://www.cnn.com/2010/SHOWBIZ/Movies/01/11/avatar.movie.blues/index.html)?
I don't have the answers to these questions, but I'd like to talk about them. With the Oscars coming up, my daily ordeal is probably only going to get worse. Maybe the only option is to just buck-up and smile my way through the endless references. Oy vey.
To end on a mildly corny note, I guess what I really want is to have 3D discussions about Avatar or none at all. Oddly enough, it's all the two-dimensional references that are making me nauseous.
That was in December.
Cut to mid-January, the start of the new semester. To finish off my college experience, I elected to take four film classes this semester, on a variety of subjects. And since the first day of class, I have experienced an unrelenting barrage of mentions of Avatar. There has not been a single class day that has gone by without a reference to the film in one, if not all of my classes. Sometimes it's a passing comment, sometimes it's the instigator of a larger discussion. And frankly, it's driving me crazy.
Now, as I said before, I'm not an Avatar-hater. I have my qualms with the movie, specifically the script, which relies on tropes of the sci-fi genre and has some troubling racial and Orientalist elements in the depiction of the Na'vi (hey, it's my thesis topic, I'm a little sensitive to these things now). But overall I liked the film. I just don't think it's the type of game changer that should be literally discussed ad nauseum.
In defense of my professors, I understand that the film is revolutionary in many ways. Cameron invented technology specifically for this film, and will no doubt make bundles of cash in the coming decades, much as George Lucas has enjoyed the profits from his technical studios. Once again Cameron has made a film with enormous global appeal, smashing box office records left and right, and surpassing his previous cinematic icon, Titanic. The film has an tremendous cultural imprint, and is very much of the current historical moment, with its themes of environmental conservation, and ostensibly a promotion of multiculturalism. And of course, the sexy blue cat lady, played by arguably sexier in real life Zoe Saldana.
The thing that frustrates me about this constant chatter over Avatar, is all the films that are ignored because of it. I am a fan of blockbuster films, but in an environment like a film class, I want to discuss films that challenge the medium. For all of the whiz-bang effects and snazzy 3D, Avatar is a rather formulaic action/adventure film. I concede that for the industry as a business, it is a revelation, a new standard, a wake-up call for ad-execs. But it provides the same type of characters, the same type of story, the same type of editing as, I don't know, Bad Boys. In my classes I want to comb over films that confront me with issues, that are difficult to get through, that refuse to conform on at least some level. Isn't that why we go to school -- to challenge our minds, to make ourselves work through puzzles in the hope of achieving some sort of better understanding of the world and its workings?
The obvious film to mention in contrast is Kathryn Bigelow's The Hurt Locker. I saw this film way back in August. It is a film that refuses to settle for tried and true formulas. It is a war film that has no epic battle scenes, a suspense film where the pay-off is often the lack of explosions, a character-driven story where we learn more from actions of a few scant minutes than the backstory presented at the end of the picture. And most importantly, the end of the picture is unsettling to some degree. It does not fulfill our expectations of the happy American ideal. The Hurt Locker is also not my favorite film of the year, and certainly not the most challenging film I've watched, but for a relatively mainstream release, in my mind it offers far more to dig through than Avatar. (random trivia: Bigelow and Cameron were married for a few years)
Or at least let's talk about the problems with Avatar, or even its successes, in terms of their intricacies, instead of throw-away lines like "doesn't this remind you of Avatar?" and "I bet you're all thinking of James Cameron." Tell me why it reminds you. Give me details I can pore over, or debate. Do films like Avatar provide a cinema of attractions for today? Is 3D spectatorship the same as 2D? Why in particular has this film become a catch-all for pop-culture references? Why does it have this incredible grip on society (for a creepy example: http://www.cnn.com/2010/SHOWBIZ/Movies/01/11/avatar.movie.blues/index.html)?
I don't have the answers to these questions, but I'd like to talk about them. With the Oscars coming up, my daily ordeal is probably only going to get worse. Maybe the only option is to just buck-up and smile my way through the endless references. Oy vey.
To end on a mildly corny note, I guess what I really want is to have 3D discussions about Avatar or none at all. Oddly enough, it's all the two-dimensional references that are making me nauseous.
A Little Too Revealing, Mark II
I've decided to start this blog up again. Now obviously the content's going to be different, since I'm no longer studying abroad, and therefore having adventures of a decidedly more domestic flavor. I'd been toying with the idea of blogging again for some time, but never knew what on earth I would write about, since I wasn't in Europe anymore. Then my brother Dan suggested that I stop worrying about what to write about, and just write. So here I am.
I can't promise that this will be consistently interesting, or topical, or coherent. But with graduation a scant few months away, and the rather imposing spectre of unemployment looming ahead of me, I'll probably have more free time than I know what to do with by June. So I'll try to get into the habit of blogging now, in the hopes that at least when I'm unemployed, I can tell myself I'm being productive by posting nonsense on the internet.
I could go into more depth about what I think I'll be posting about, but I'm pretty sure no one is particularly interested in that. So I'll just end this "re-opening" post here, and move on to an actual post.
I guess the best motto for this new blog is articulated by one of my favorite childhood authors, Roald Dahl: "A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men."
So let's get this nonsense started.
I can't promise that this will be consistently interesting, or topical, or coherent. But with graduation a scant few months away, and the rather imposing spectre of unemployment looming ahead of me, I'll probably have more free time than I know what to do with by June. So I'll try to get into the habit of blogging now, in the hopes that at least when I'm unemployed, I can tell myself I'm being productive by posting nonsense on the internet.
I could go into more depth about what I think I'll be posting about, but I'm pretty sure no one is particularly interested in that. So I'll just end this "re-opening" post here, and move on to an actual post.
I guess the best motto for this new blog is articulated by one of my favorite childhood authors, Roald Dahl: "A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men."
So let's get this nonsense started.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Last Post in Scotland
I have to admit, I'm pretty exhausted after writing that massive post about my trip to Rome. But I really do want to have a sort of "wrap up" post about this semester, before I head home tomorrow. I got back to Glasgow late Tuesday night, and spent most of Wednesday and Thursday studying for my Scottish Lit exam on Friday morning. Di and I did step out of our rooms briefly on Thursday for a goodbye hot cocoa party with our Norwegian friend Hanne, who is a real sweetie, and one of the people I'm going to miss. She made the cocoa the old fashioned way, with powder, milk, and sugar. Di and I were very impressed.
Last night Di and I went to 12 Hour Cheesy Pop at the QMU. We were there from around 8:30 PM until 2:45 AM, which I'm fairly sure is the longest I've partied ever. It was a blast, with the usual cheesy pop fare, a set from The Foundations (of "Build Me Up Buttercup" fame), a Christmas carnival, an all night snack bar, and my favorite part, the "hedphone disco." I'm really happy we got to dance in the hedphone disco since we missed the experience during Freshers Week. Di and I saw a couple of people we knew at the union, but I think a lot of people have already gone home. After we left the QMU and hobbled over to get a cab (I was wearing heels, and have the blisters to show it -- ow), I stayed up with Di until she caught a cab at 5:30 to the train station. Her flight was scheduled at 9:00 AM from Edinburgh, although I think it got delayed. I crashed as soon as she left, got up at noon, and spent the rest of the day getting ready to leave tomorrow.
EDIT: I forgot to include the random acts of kindness that cemented my view of Glasgow's hospitality. On Thursday night Di and I had our final Ashoka dinner, and during the meal the staff repeatedly stopped by our table to chat, and upon finding out it was our last time there, to say goodbye. I didn't realize we'd become such regulars! At the end of the meal the manager (who had at least said hello almost every time we'd come) came over to talk, and as a goodbye present for being such good customers, he gave us an Ashoka cookbook. For free! It was very sweet, and pretty much made my day.
Then today, when I went to check-in online and print out my boarding passes, I stopped by Bagel Bite to grab some lunch. Di and I also frequented that shop after our workouts, and the man who owns it was working the counter when I came in. While waiting for my bagel to toast, we had a brief discussion, and again, upon finding out Di had already left and I was leaving, he gave me a 25% discount, and threw in a caramel shortcake to boot. I think I might miss that Glasgow hospitality.
So after a semester abroad, what have I really learned? Well, I certainly know a great deal more about Australian and Scottish cinema, and have added to my repetoire of random movies very few people have seen. I've doubled the number of countries I've traveled to, and saw a whole bunch of artwork that solidified my interest in sculpture, baroque, and neoclassical art. I've learned what a pint of magic is, what's in neeps and tatties, and where to find good haggis.
But I suppose the most important lesson I've learned is how to handle the unexpected on my own. I was lucky to have Diana, but she was just as new to this as I was, and I think I've gained confidence in being able to figure out situations. Life seems to have a tendency to throw dilemmas and conflicts in your face when you're least ready, and being in a foreign country only heightened the confusion. But somehow I made it through relatively unscathed, and I count my lucky stars for that.
Would I do it again? I think so -- for all the homesickness and the ups and downs, I firmly believe this semester in Glasgow was a worthwhile experience. Sure, there are some things I might do differently if I could go back again, but in general I'd say I'm satisfied.
Who knows if I'll keep this blog up after I get home, or what it will turn into if I do. But thanks to all who read along during my adventures -- you deserve a medal for slogging through my dense and nonsensical prose. Seriously, though -- thanks for all the words of encouragement and support. It kept me connected to home. That connection will be literal in a mere 24 hours -- sweet.
Last night Di and I went to 12 Hour Cheesy Pop at the QMU. We were there from around 8:30 PM until 2:45 AM, which I'm fairly sure is the longest I've partied ever. It was a blast, with the usual cheesy pop fare, a set from The Foundations (of "Build Me Up Buttercup" fame), a Christmas carnival, an all night snack bar, and my favorite part, the "hedphone disco." I'm really happy we got to dance in the hedphone disco since we missed the experience during Freshers Week. Di and I saw a couple of people we knew at the union, but I think a lot of people have already gone home. After we left the QMU and hobbled over to get a cab (I was wearing heels, and have the blisters to show it -- ow), I stayed up with Di until she caught a cab at 5:30 to the train station. Her flight was scheduled at 9:00 AM from Edinburgh, although I think it got delayed. I crashed as soon as she left, got up at noon, and spent the rest of the day getting ready to leave tomorrow.
EDIT: I forgot to include the random acts of kindness that cemented my view of Glasgow's hospitality. On Thursday night Di and I had our final Ashoka dinner, and during the meal the staff repeatedly stopped by our table to chat, and upon finding out it was our last time there, to say goodbye. I didn't realize we'd become such regulars! At the end of the meal the manager (who had at least said hello almost every time we'd come) came over to talk, and as a goodbye present for being such good customers, he gave us an Ashoka cookbook. For free! It was very sweet, and pretty much made my day.
Then today, when I went to check-in online and print out my boarding passes, I stopped by Bagel Bite to grab some lunch. Di and I also frequented that shop after our workouts, and the man who owns it was working the counter when I came in. While waiting for my bagel to toast, we had a brief discussion, and again, upon finding out Di had already left and I was leaving, he gave me a 25% discount, and threw in a caramel shortcake to boot. I think I might miss that Glasgow hospitality.
So after a semester abroad, what have I really learned? Well, I certainly know a great deal more about Australian and Scottish cinema, and have added to my repetoire of random movies very few people have seen. I've doubled the number of countries I've traveled to, and saw a whole bunch of artwork that solidified my interest in sculpture, baroque, and neoclassical art. I've learned what a pint of magic is, what's in neeps and tatties, and where to find good haggis.
But I suppose the most important lesson I've learned is how to handle the unexpected on my own. I was lucky to have Diana, but she was just as new to this as I was, and I think I've gained confidence in being able to figure out situations. Life seems to have a tendency to throw dilemmas and conflicts in your face when you're least ready, and being in a foreign country only heightened the confusion. But somehow I made it through relatively unscathed, and I count my lucky stars for that.
Would I do it again? I think so -- for all the homesickness and the ups and downs, I firmly believe this semester in Glasgow was a worthwhile experience. Sure, there are some things I might do differently if I could go back again, but in general I'd say I'm satisfied.
Who knows if I'll keep this blog up after I get home, or what it will turn into if I do. But thanks to all who read along during my adventures -- you deserve a medal for slogging through my dense and nonsensical prose. Seriously, though -- thanks for all the words of encouragement and support. It kept me connected to home. That connection will be literal in a mere 24 hours -- sweet.
Time Wasters
While I would love to say that my main motivation in writing this entry is the overwhelming sense of duty I have about keeping my audience (if I have one) updated, in fact the real reason is much pettier. I'm basically hanging around, waiting for 1 PM tomorrow to arrive. My day has been a little more hectic than initially expected, but overall, I keep returning to my computer screen and really, even I can watch only so many youtube videos.
But before I talk about the past few days in Scotland, I should really cover my trip to Rome. So let me fetch my trusty notebook, full of bullet points about Di, Xixi and my activities from December 13th to the 16th.
Xixi showed up around 11 AM on Saturday morning (our flight was leaving Prestwick at 4 PM), and we tried to get lunch at Ashoka. Unfortunately, they didn't open until noon, so we had paninis at Morton's instead. Riveting, I know. Anyway, after lunch we went on an epic journey across the street to a newsagent and got a Mars Bar, then went back to Jack McPhees/Mario's Place (the restaurant signs list both) and after some initial resistance to the idea, got them to fry the candy for us. Now I've had fried oreos before (at Penn's Spring Fling), so I was used to the concept of fried dessert. But the fried oreos use funnel cake batter, as opposed to the saltier, fishier batter they use in chippies. However, the fried Mars Bar was actually not salty enough for me -- it was sort of just melted. I definitely prefer oreos, and I'm really glad we only got one bar -- I would have experienced cardiac arrest if I had tried a whole one. But it was something we all needed to do before we left -- a tiny, often neglected piece of Scottish culture.
We headed downtown to Central Station to catch a train to Prestwick (which is significantly cheaper than the bus, a fact I didn't discover until last week, argh). Aside from a possibly insane, definitely horribly ill elderly man on the train who was hacking up phlegm/his lung, the train ride was smooth and pleasant. I ended up sitting in the middle seat on both flights, which was fine because Di and Laura slept both ways, and I did work and read.
Our flight got in around 8, and after finding our way to our hostel, we went to dinner at a nearby restaurant. I had gnocchi for the first time in probably half a year, and it was fantastic. Actually, aside from a salad I had the last night which was gross (it was salty!), the food in Italy was amazing. Just fresh and flavourful. Dan was after me to try limoncello, and I gave it a shot at dinner. Suffice to say it's not the drink for me.
The hostel, Hotel Lella, was not exactly what I expected, but ended up being a perfectly nice place. It was situated in an old apartment building, sharing the space with private tenants. In our three days there, I only saw one guy running everything, and so we became convinced that he just never slept. But there were three beds in the room, we had our own bathroom, and breakfast was included (and brought up to our room each morning). Plus, there was a neat old lift in the building, which could only fit the three of us across, but had sliding doors and a elevator cage. We all thought it was really cool.
On Sunday we covered most of the ancient/ruins that we wanted to see. Our first stop was at St. Peter in Chains, where Michelangelo's "Moses" is. It was sort of a preview to the rest of the trip, with me being overly enthusiastic about the art we saw and Di and Laura nodding along to keep me happy. But seriously, it was really amazing to see all the artwork I did. I managed to find a lot of the pieces that we studied in my class last semester, and to actually be in the same room as these masterpieces was beyond belief. The trip also served as a catalyst for my new obsession with the sculptor Gian Lorenzo Bernini. We saw a bunch of his more famous pieces, and I'm kicking myself for not going to Villa Borghese and seeing more of them.
Anyway, after St. Peter in Chains we walked down to the Colosseum, which, despite its enormity, managed to sneak up on us. We strolled through there and Palatine Hill, and generally enjoyed the grandeur of the view and the beautiful weather. There were oranges growing on Palantine Hill, in stark contrast to absolutely nothing growing in Glasgow this time of year. After lunch (my first real Roman pizza), we walked over to the Trevi Fountain, and I threw in a coin to guarantee my return to Rome (hint, hint, Mom and Dad). Then over to the Spanish Steps, where Di was manhandled by several vendors (one literally grabbed her by the elbow). Then over to Piazza Barberini, where we saw Fontana del Tritone and the Fountain of the Bees, both by Bernini. We took a quick breather and I had my first real Italian cappucino (best I've ever had), and Di ended up with a Coca Light (their Diet Coke) that cost 5 euro -- yikes!
We were over in Piazza Barberini to see the Capuchin Monks Cemetery. It was a truly surreal experience, and hard to describe without you actually seeing it. I got a book of postcards because they don't let you take photos inside. The cemetery is actually a series of intricately designed rooms covered in sculptures made out of the bones of over 4000 monks. Some are still fully constructed and dressed in their habits, but most of the designs use only one or two types of bones (collar bones, vertebrae, etc). Di and Laura thought it was beautiful, but I couldn't quite get past the idea of these being the remains of people.
After the Capuchin monks we strolled back across the Spanish Steps to Piazza del Popolo, and browsed the holiday market in the square. I had gnocchi again for dinner (and was made fun of for it), and then we ended up back in Piazza Barbarini for drinks. Di had a "sex on the beach" and I had a "grasshopper." The waiter actually cracked a joke about Di's drink, something we'd pretty much been expecting all semester, so I'm glad that somebody commented on the drink's name.
On Monday Laura split off to meet her old Wellesley who is now running the American Academy in Rome, and Di and I took the metro to Vatican City. We saw the Vatican Museum in the morning, and my pictures tell most of the story. The only thing that couldn't be photographed was the Sistine Chapel, which defies real description. We had studied it last semester, but the sheer size of it is striking. It is a beautiful piece of work, and I could have spent hours looking at it and injurying my neck.
We had a very expensive lunch (tourist area) after we met up with Laura, and then went to St. Peter's Basilica. The lighting was terrible inside because it was raining heavily all day, so my photos don't adequately represent the size and scope of the Basilica. We came up into it from the Grottoes, where the tombs of several popes are, including John Paul II. But coming up the stairs into the Basilica -- it's just awe inspiring. The ceiling is leagues and leagues above you, and everything is so intricate and artistic and wonderful. Bernini had a big hand in the construction and decoration of St. Peter's, including the design of St. Peter's Chair, the baldachin, and the tomb of Pope Urban VIII.
Eventually we left the Vatican and headed over to Piazza Navona, where I saw more Bernini -- one of my new favorite pieces, the "Fountain of the Four Rivers." The four figures represent the major rivers of the world (at the point of its design) -- the Danube, the Ganges, the Nile, and the Rio de la Plata. A really dynamic and equisite piece of sculpture. From Piazza Navona we went to the Panteon, which was gorgeous, but not as dramatic as it could have been if we had seen it during the day. I had my terrible dinner that night, but made up for it by getting fantastic gelato (I think we got gelato on Sunday, too).
Tuesday we sort of meandered about. I had asked at a tourist information booth where to find Bernini's "The Ecstasy of St. Theresa," and so we headed over to Santa Maria in Vittorio. Again, mind boggling beauty, and I consider myself very lucky to have had the chance to see it. The rest of the day was spent seeing the market at Campo di Fiori, revisiting Piazza Navona in the sunlight, and trying to go to Castel de St. Angelo, which was closed due to the intense rainfall of the previous week, which caused a lot of flooding around the Tiber. We ended the day with gelato, then hopped on our flight, and went back to Glasgow, and back to studying for our exams.
Overall, my trip to Rome was an incredible experience, and has only made me want to study art history more. I definitely need to go to more of Italy, especially Florence, and at some point I would love to come back to Rome, since I'm positive there are many, many things I didn't see. Another stamp in my passport, another amazing collection of memories. Ouch, that was cliche.
But before I talk about the past few days in Scotland, I should really cover my trip to Rome. So let me fetch my trusty notebook, full of bullet points about Di, Xixi and my activities from December 13th to the 16th.
Xixi showed up around 11 AM on Saturday morning (our flight was leaving Prestwick at 4 PM), and we tried to get lunch at Ashoka. Unfortunately, they didn't open until noon, so we had paninis at Morton's instead. Riveting, I know. Anyway, after lunch we went on an epic journey across the street to a newsagent and got a Mars Bar, then went back to Jack McPhees/Mario's Place (the restaurant signs list both) and after some initial resistance to the idea, got them to fry the candy for us. Now I've had fried oreos before (at Penn's Spring Fling), so I was used to the concept of fried dessert. But the fried oreos use funnel cake batter, as opposed to the saltier, fishier batter they use in chippies. However, the fried Mars Bar was actually not salty enough for me -- it was sort of just melted. I definitely prefer oreos, and I'm really glad we only got one bar -- I would have experienced cardiac arrest if I had tried a whole one. But it was something we all needed to do before we left -- a tiny, often neglected piece of Scottish culture.
We headed downtown to Central Station to catch a train to Prestwick (which is significantly cheaper than the bus, a fact I didn't discover until last week, argh). Aside from a possibly insane, definitely horribly ill elderly man on the train who was hacking up phlegm/his lung, the train ride was smooth and pleasant. I ended up sitting in the middle seat on both flights, which was fine because Di and Laura slept both ways, and I did work and read.
Our flight got in around 8, and after finding our way to our hostel, we went to dinner at a nearby restaurant. I had gnocchi for the first time in probably half a year, and it was fantastic. Actually, aside from a salad I had the last night which was gross (it was salty!), the food in Italy was amazing. Just fresh and flavourful. Dan was after me to try limoncello, and I gave it a shot at dinner. Suffice to say it's not the drink for me.
The hostel, Hotel Lella, was not exactly what I expected, but ended up being a perfectly nice place. It was situated in an old apartment building, sharing the space with private tenants. In our three days there, I only saw one guy running everything, and so we became convinced that he just never slept. But there were three beds in the room, we had our own bathroom, and breakfast was included (and brought up to our room each morning). Plus, there was a neat old lift in the building, which could only fit the three of us across, but had sliding doors and a elevator cage. We all thought it was really cool.
On Sunday we covered most of the ancient/ruins that we wanted to see. Our first stop was at St. Peter in Chains, where Michelangelo's "Moses" is. It was sort of a preview to the rest of the trip, with me being overly enthusiastic about the art we saw and Di and Laura nodding along to keep me happy. But seriously, it was really amazing to see all the artwork I did. I managed to find a lot of the pieces that we studied in my class last semester, and to actually be in the same room as these masterpieces was beyond belief. The trip also served as a catalyst for my new obsession with the sculptor Gian Lorenzo Bernini. We saw a bunch of his more famous pieces, and I'm kicking myself for not going to Villa Borghese and seeing more of them.
Anyway, after St. Peter in Chains we walked down to the Colosseum, which, despite its enormity, managed to sneak up on us. We strolled through there and Palatine Hill, and generally enjoyed the grandeur of the view and the beautiful weather. There were oranges growing on Palantine Hill, in stark contrast to absolutely nothing growing in Glasgow this time of year. After lunch (my first real Roman pizza), we walked over to the Trevi Fountain, and I threw in a coin to guarantee my return to Rome (hint, hint, Mom and Dad). Then over to the Spanish Steps, where Di was manhandled by several vendors (one literally grabbed her by the elbow). Then over to Piazza Barberini, where we saw Fontana del Tritone and the Fountain of the Bees, both by Bernini. We took a quick breather and I had my first real Italian cappucino (best I've ever had), and Di ended up with a Coca Light (their Diet Coke) that cost 5 euro -- yikes!
We were over in Piazza Barberini to see the Capuchin Monks Cemetery. It was a truly surreal experience, and hard to describe without you actually seeing it. I got a book of postcards because they don't let you take photos inside. The cemetery is actually a series of intricately designed rooms covered in sculptures made out of the bones of over 4000 monks. Some are still fully constructed and dressed in their habits, but most of the designs use only one or two types of bones (collar bones, vertebrae, etc). Di and Laura thought it was beautiful, but I couldn't quite get past the idea of these being the remains of people.
After the Capuchin monks we strolled back across the Spanish Steps to Piazza del Popolo, and browsed the holiday market in the square. I had gnocchi again for dinner (and was made fun of for it), and then we ended up back in Piazza Barbarini for drinks. Di had a "sex on the beach" and I had a "grasshopper." The waiter actually cracked a joke about Di's drink, something we'd pretty much been expecting all semester, so I'm glad that somebody commented on the drink's name.
On Monday Laura split off to meet her old Wellesley who is now running the American Academy in Rome, and Di and I took the metro to Vatican City. We saw the Vatican Museum in the morning, and my pictures tell most of the story. The only thing that couldn't be photographed was the Sistine Chapel, which defies real description. We had studied it last semester, but the sheer size of it is striking. It is a beautiful piece of work, and I could have spent hours looking at it and injurying my neck.
We had a very expensive lunch (tourist area) after we met up with Laura, and then went to St. Peter's Basilica. The lighting was terrible inside because it was raining heavily all day, so my photos don't adequately represent the size and scope of the Basilica. We came up into it from the Grottoes, where the tombs of several popes are, including John Paul II. But coming up the stairs into the Basilica -- it's just awe inspiring. The ceiling is leagues and leagues above you, and everything is so intricate and artistic and wonderful. Bernini had a big hand in the construction and decoration of St. Peter's, including the design of St. Peter's Chair, the baldachin, and the tomb of Pope Urban VIII.
Eventually we left the Vatican and headed over to Piazza Navona, where I saw more Bernini -- one of my new favorite pieces, the "Fountain of the Four Rivers." The four figures represent the major rivers of the world (at the point of its design) -- the Danube, the Ganges, the Nile, and the Rio de la Plata. A really dynamic and equisite piece of sculpture. From Piazza Navona we went to the Panteon, which was gorgeous, but not as dramatic as it could have been if we had seen it during the day. I had my terrible dinner that night, but made up for it by getting fantastic gelato (I think we got gelato on Sunday, too).
Tuesday we sort of meandered about. I had asked at a tourist information booth where to find Bernini's "The Ecstasy of St. Theresa," and so we headed over to Santa Maria in Vittorio. Again, mind boggling beauty, and I consider myself very lucky to have had the chance to see it. The rest of the day was spent seeing the market at Campo di Fiori, revisiting Piazza Navona in the sunlight, and trying to go to Castel de St. Angelo, which was closed due to the intense rainfall of the previous week, which caused a lot of flooding around the Tiber. We ended the day with gelato, then hopped on our flight, and went back to Glasgow, and back to studying for our exams.
Overall, my trip to Rome was an incredible experience, and has only made me want to study art history more. I definitely need to go to more of Italy, especially Florence, and at some point I would love to come back to Rome, since I'm positive there are many, many things I didn't see. Another stamp in my passport, another amazing collection of memories. Ouch, that was cliche.
Just a Quick One
I just wanted to give the link to my Rome photos. They're under a different account because I used up nearly all of the space on the picasa account linked to this blog. I'm going to take a little break and pack a bit more, but I really intend to give a full explanation of my time in Rome, and a few thoughts on my last days in Scotland.
Here's the album: Roman Holiday (no, really)
Here's the album: Roman Holiday (no, really)
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