Two days in Florence - 8 and 9 April

Flower seller at Loggia de Pesce

Flea-market bookshop, S. Ambrogio

Easy day today. Went a little way to the east, to the market at S. Ambrogio and a flea market by the old Loggia di Pesci, the old fish-market. The church of S. Ambrogio is a nice small church, roofed in wood and tiles, with architectural details in pietra serena, a grey marble much used in Florentine building. A church for worship, not for tourists, which of course makes it more interesting. The nearby market has an outdoors area with fruit, vegetables, clothes and household stuff and a wonderful indoor market for cheeses, meats, fish, bread and pasta. Nice buzzy area, lots of cyclists. 

Another book-stall, Loggia de Pesce. Little della Robbia  terracotte of fish species at the tops of the arches.

9 April

Frustrating day, feeling a bit snippy, tired of the whole tourist thing. Woken up at various intervals during the night by people in the street shouting and singing, street cleaning machines, traffic and a mosquito. I already have some bites on my face from another mozzy encounter, and dealt with this one, which I couldn't catch, by sleeping with my scarf over my ears.
I intended to see "David" at the Galleria Academia but the queue was so long I gave up. Maybe I'll try again another day. So I went to San Marco instead to renew my acquaintance with Fra Angelico's work. Quite a lot of tourists there too, but generally quieter and more respectful. Saw and photo'd my favourite work, the "Noli me tangere" of the risen Christ appearing to the Mary Magdalene in the garden. I love the way the figures move, Jesus sort of corkscrewing away from Mary's desperate move to touch him, and the colours are beautiful. And Jesus is carrying a gardener's mattock, as if he has had to dig himself out of the tomb perhaps, or did he just feel like doing a little gardening while he was passing through? I like the idea of Jesus as a gardener.

That's what makes me so fond of Renaissance art, as opposed to the medieval art that preceeded it; there's nearly always a human touch, even in pictures of the divine. There's another fresco here (no picture, not supposed to take them) of the women arriving at the empty tomb. One woman clutches her forehead as she looks into the sepulchre, as if she can't quite believe that there's no body there. The other two women look at the Angel with puzzled and annoyed expressions on their faces. "What do you mean, he's not here?" they seem to ask, just as they would. Endearing.