Favourite Paintings: 'The Death of St Francis' by Giotto

One of my favourite paintings isn't really a painting at all, it's a fresco cycle by Giotto in the Bardi Chapel in the church of Santa Croce in Florence. The frescoes are about the life of St Francis and I've chosen the scene showing the death of the friar who soon afterwards became a saint.

I still remember my excitement at seeing a real Giotto chapel for the first time, exclaiming 'He invented art', when I realised what I was looking at and wanted to drink it all in with my eyes. Of course, art has been around for millennia before Giotto but he and a few other masters were pivotal in modernising art in the late middle ages that led to the Renaissance and the great flourishing of art one hundred years later.

Look at the friars gathered around the deathbed of their leader, the man they'd given up everything to follow, just like the Apostles gave up everything to follow their Lord. They were real men who knew the real Francis, not the legendary saint, faults and all. They don't look saintly and ethereal do they? They were real men, you and me, who happened to live in extraordinary times. They react differently, some seeming to be telling Francis to hold on a bit longer, some in tears, some in shock, just as you do when someone dies. This was part of Giotto's genius, his attempts at storytelling in a way that had never been done before, to show real people showing real emotion. It's an astonishing display of the imagination and the skills of the master.

The strange oblong of empty space in the centre of the fresco is the result of some stupid rich person wanting to be tried in that chapel so they hollowed out part of the wall to place his coffin in. Luckily they retained the original fresco so it could be replaced at a later date. Just underneath the fresco is a line that runs round the entire chapel showing the highest point the water reached when the Arno overflowed its banks in 1966 and flooded Florence. I wonder what intervention prevented it reaching these amazing frescoes?

When you've drunk in as much as you can of the chapel, walk back maybe 20-30 yards and look up at the top of the chapel and, on the walls of the church you'll see another fresco by Giotto, this time a very big painting of St Francis receiving the stigmata. The seraph is flying overhead and beams of light transfer the stigmata of Christ to St Francis. You can't get close enough to see the detail since it's so high up on the walls but there's a similar painting on a panel in the Louvre in Paris that you can get close to.

'Florence' exhibition at the Alte Pinakothek in Munich

The big exhibition in the world of early Renaissance art at the moment is 'Florence and its Painters' at the Alte Pinakothek in Munich. The National Gallery can make a claim to that title with its Bellini and Mantegna exhibition but the Pinakothek wins for the sheer number of extraordinary exhibits and the range of artists represented. Sub-titled 'From Giotto to Leonardo' provides the scope of the artists featured in the exhibition and there are paintings, statues, drawings, books and reconstructed altarpieces. There is a record number of works by Fra Angelico with 11 paintings and three drawings, panels by Giotto, paintings and drawings by Domenico Ghirlandaio and his brother Davide, Donatello, works by Fra Filippo Lippi and by Filipino Lippi, Botticelli, Verrocchio and Leondardo and a host of other Florentine artists. The range of exhibits is quite astonishing with excellent labels and explanatory notes in German and English.

The earliest works are a mere 700 years old and are three small panels by Giotto: the Last Supper, the Crucifixion and Christ saving the souls from Limbo (with Adam and Eve at the front of the queue to get out of Limbo). I'm always astonished that small paintings that old have somehow managed to survive over the centuries and retain much of their colour - that is a great tribute to artistry of the masters' workshops and the skills of the craftsmen who mixed the paints for their masters, prepared the panels or cleaned the brushes. We'll never know their names but an artist of Giotto's stature had a good sized workshop to help him in his endeavours. The downside to seeing these panels is that they're displayed in what is effectively a corridor which is busy so there's not the comfort or convenience to really look at them undisturbed.

Also in the corridor are a group of six paintings by Agnolo Gaddi, two large life-sized paintings of St Nicholas of Bari and St Julian. The more interesting is St Nicholas, the forefather of Father Christmas and Santa Claus. Nicholas gave three bags of gold anonymously to the three daughters of his neighbour to provide them with a dowry and prevent their father selling them into prostitution. That was his first kindly act on his long journey into sainthood. Isn't it odd how stories start? The other small panel shows St Nicholas saving a ship at sea during a storm.

Various artists at the time and later tackled the stories around St Nicholas (there is a panel Fra Angelico in the Vatican Museums with the same story of saving a ship) but I quite liked this version by Gaddi and it works well in the context of the exhibition - Giotto worked at the start of the 1300s and Gaddi towards the end of the century, so he makes a nice springboard into the works from the 1400s which make up the majority of the exhibition.

The next room is full of the wonders of Fra Angelico and Fra Filippo Lippi as well as others, roughly contemporary but with very different approaches to life and art. Despite being a friar Filippo fathered his son, Filipino Lippi, on a Dominican nun whose name we don't know. That doesn't mean he hasn't created some wonderful art.

The first painting in the room is the gorgeous Virgin & Child with it's rich cloth of gold background partially obscuring the Roman columns of the room within while the Virgin looks at her child serenely and the child offers the viewer a blessing. I've loved this painting since I first saw it at an exhibition in Paris in 2011, the gorgeous rich blues and reds of the Virgin's clothes and the passive, almost glowing child, gazing out at the viewer. It really is a wonder. The other paintings and drawings by Fra Angelico are arranged around a reproduction of the former high altarpiece at San Marco in Florence and are included elsewhere in this blog.

A really nice touch is that there is also a small panel by Benozzo Gozzoli near the Fra's paintings - Gozzoli was a pupil and assistant to the Fra who became a master in his own right and he painted the walls of the private chapel of the Medicis in their palace in Florence. On the opposite wall is a small Annunciation painting by Zenobi Strozzi who was also thought to have worked in the workshop of Fra Angelico (although with less documented proof than with Gozzoli). Here's Gozzoli's small predella panel of 'St Zenobius Resuscitating a Dead Child'.

Moving round the room you come to a lovely, delicate 'Annunciation' by Fra Filippo Lippi with the angel Gabriel kneeling before the Virgin while, up in the top left-hand corner we see God the Father channelling his energies through a dove to represent the Holy Spirit and straight down to the Virgin, the moment of conception. Gabriel holds the stem of a lily for purity and the Virigin has just got up from reading a book. Look at the detail of the house and garden, with Filippo practicing his skills at the new-fangled thing called perspective. It's quite a large painting and is dated at around 1444 so other painters had already made inroads into naturalism and perspective. Filippo doesn't sound like someone who followed 'the rules' and his addition of God to the scene and the setting in a well-to-do house would probably have been quite dramatic at the time.

Further round the room you find three paintings of the Virgin and Child by Fra Filippo Lippi from different periods in his career. Two are hung on the walls and one is in a glass case so you can see the drawing of a face on the back of the painting. The earliest painting uses the cloth of gold motif as a screen behind the Virgin while the mid-period painting has a landscape, an emerging skill for artists at the time. The third one uses a conch shell as the background, showing that classical Roman influences were taking hold.

The main room is full of treasures, with a painting of the Virgin & Child by Leonardo da Vinci almost hidden amongst the wealth or wonderful art. There are drawings by Pollaiuolo, bronzes by Donatello, paintings by Filipino Lippi (the son of Lippi senior), Botticelli, Lorenzo di Credi, Botticini, Domenico and Davide Ghirlandaio, Fra Bartolomeo and others. I mean, wow! It's not quite like being in the Uffizi but this is pretty close. I suppose the only real omission was anything by Michelangelo but you can't have everything and I suppose he really belongs to the 1500s. It was actually quite exciting wandering around this large room and finding wonder after wonder with no idea what you might stumble upon next.

Another reconstructed altar was that of Santa Maria Novella in Florence with the large painted altarpiece and two side panels by Domenico Ghirlandaio. I've marvelled at his frescos in that church and was delighted to see a rough drawing of one scene in the frescos showing the birth of the Virgin, but I'd never seen the large, main painting before, showing the Virgin and Child enthroned with saints and angels.

Here we see Saints Dominic, Michael, John the Baptist and Thomas below the Virgin and Child, St Dominic since Santa Maria Novella was and is a Dominican church. Santa Maria Novella is one of the great churches of Florence and it's a delight to see what would've been behind the high altar all those years ago.

A bit further into the exhibition, in the section covering the rise of portraiture in Florence (influenced by the great paintings of the Northern Renaissance) are two paintings of young ladies, one by Davide Ghirlandaio and one by Domenico Ghirlandaio. The brothers worked together in Domenico's workshop. I've only ever seen paintings by Davide in the Academia in Florence and I wasn't all that impressed so it was really nice to see these two small portraits side by side and not be able to tell who painted which. Clearly, there's more to Davide to explore.

The last painting in the exhibition (or, at least, the last big one in the final room) is a strangely surprising 'Lamentation" by Botticelli that has been restored especially for this exhibition. It's a big, almost life-sized painting with colours that glow (my photo doesn't do it justice).

There's none of the frivolity or playfulness of his earlier paintings, this is full-on religious, serious art.  Look at that composition, with everyone at an angle other than St Paul who stands upright, representing the true church. The thing that really caught my eye was the detail of grass curling around the toes and drapery, individual blades of grass, not just generic green foreground. And the body of the dead Christ almost glowing against the black of the Virgin's cloak. This is a very clever piece of art with a very serious subject for an altarpiece. Earlier in the exhibition we see Botticelli's 'Adoration of the Magi' which is a very different work, with his fops and dandies showing off their clothes and tights to best effect. This is most definitely a later piece by a man who's lived, loved and experienced pain.

I was really blown away by this exhibition. Such a great concept, such great works of art and something that must've taken years to put together, getting agreements to the loans and the conditions around the loans. I suspect something like 3-5 years has gone into planning and delivering this exhibition and I must congratulate everyone involved. It really is astonishing. Now that the Alte Pinakothek is on my radar for exhibitions I'll be keeping a watchful eye on whatever it does next. Thank you.

And, just because I can, here's the lovely 'Annunciation' by Zenobi Strozzi with Gabriel dressed in Fra Angelico pink.

Fra Angelico in 'Florence' at the Alte Pinakothek, Munich

The big exhibition in the world of early Renaissance art at the moment is 'Florence' at the Alte Pinakothek in Munich. In particular, the exhibition boasts 11 paintings by Fra Angelico and three drawings. Most of the paintings are small predella panels but there is also the richly coloured 'Virgin and Child' that greets you at the entrance to the room that holds the collection of Fra Angelico works (as well as works by other masters).

This Virgin and Child is a late work from about 1445/50 and the Fra is at the peak of his considerable powers. The delicacy and detail of the painting, the Christ Child gazing out at the viewer offering a blessing and the serenity of the Virgin gazing at her son make this a very contemplative piece. The Virgin's halo includes the words 'Ave Maria' and the baby's halo includes the cross of the resurrection - even as a baby he was destined to die and be resurrected. The Child is also a source of light in the painting, almost radiant against the deep blues and reds of the Virgin's clothes.

A sign that this is a late painting is that the traditional cloth of gold behind the Virgin (the Fra did many paintings using this approach) does not fill the background but it is drawn back to reveal the classical columns of a Roman chamber - the influence of the ancients is starting to be felt and reflected in art. This painting was the centrepiece of the Fra Angelico exhibition at Musee Jacquemart-Andre in Paris in 2011.

The predella paintings are displayed as a reconstructed altarpiece to display them as they would have originally been seen. The photo was taken in a lucky rare moment when the crowds parted in front of the predella. This was at the high altar of San Marco in Florence and the main painting is in the museum at San Marco but there's a black and white copy of the painting on display to give the predella paintings their context. Six of the seven panels along the front of the altarpiece have been brought together from around the world (including paintings loaned from Dublin and Washington) and the two paintings that were on the sides of the altarpiece are also on display. The panels are slightly larger than A4 size, but that'll give you an idea of the size. These paintings tell the stories of the lives of Saints Cosmas and Damian, the doctor saints and patrons of the Medici family (Medici means 'doctor'), and their three brothers. The saints were quite popular at that time in Florence due to the Medicis and, for a time, they kept popping up in paintings.

In order, from left to right, we have 'The Healing of Palladia' (left side painting)

'Saints Cosmas and Damian and Their Brothers before the Proconsul Lysius'

'Saints Cosmas and Damian and Their Brothers are hurled into the sea and saved by an Angel; They liberate Lysius from Demons'

'Saints Cosmas and Damian and Their Brothers Surviving the Stake'

'The Entombment of Christ'

'Saints Cosmas and Damian and Their Brothers are Crucified, Stoned and Pierced with Arrows'

'The Funeral of Saints Cosmas and Damian and Their Brothers'

 'The Dream of Saint Justinian' (right side painting).

You need know the tales of the saints to fully understand what's going on in these paintings but they are very narrative and easy to follow. It's sometimes the details that are the most interesting in the paintings, such as seeing the brothers being hurled into the sea as punishment in the background of the painting, with the foreground seeing the brothers getting rid of demons - why did the Fra focus on that part of the story rather than the brothers being saved by an angel? And the very graphic way that the killing flames at the stake burn the captors rather than the brothers, all down to divine intervention. I also really like the 'Entombment' which, in context, sits directly below a small Crucifixion scene in the main altarpiece, nicely continuing that story.

The two final paintings are an annunciators angel and the Virgin, small paintings with a gold background, both early works and likely to be from the early 1420s. They were probably part of an altarpiece back then but it's not known which one. Altarpieces were often broken up and elements sold as paintings over the years, particularly during and after the Napoleonic Wars, so it's not that unusual to have parts of altarpieces framed separately and sold to raise funds for the church or monastery. That's also how paintings have ended up all over the world and bringing them together again in exhibitions like this is a great attraction.

As well as the paintings, there are also three drawings, a delicate crucifixion attributed to Fra Angelico and two others attributed to him and his workshop. They're all quite small drawings in various media. The thing that really stands out is the use of red ink for blood and for the cross of the resurrection in the halo - even while dying it's a sign that Christ will be resurrected.

The other two drawings are on different sides of the same piece of paper. One is a portrait of a cleric and the other sheet of paper holds three small drawings of St Lawrence, a woman holding a child and a young man with clasped hands. I don't know if these were simply practice drawings or meant as sketches to use at a later date in a painting. The woman and child could easily be the basis of a Virgin and Child painting at some point. The man with clasped hands reminds me of some of the figures in the frescoes in the Nicotine Chapel in the Vatican in Rome, but who knows?

It was a great thrill to see so many works by Fra Angelico brought together in one room of the 'Florence' exhibition, alongside works by other masters. Having 14 works by the Fra in a single exhibition is an astonishing number and it's amazing that these delicate, small paintings and drawings have survived in such good condition over the past 600 years. The Alte Pinakothek is lucky to have quite a few of these works in its own collection so, when the exhibition closes, they'll still be available to see upstairs in the main galleries. Thank you very much Pinakotheken for putting on such a great exhibition with so many works by Fra Angelico. Well done!

Bronzino

Agnolo Bronzino (or Agnolo di Cosimo) was a Florentine painter in the 1500s, a painter I've never really paid much attention to and have glanced at his paintings in galleries (such as the famous 'Allegory with Venus and Cupid' in the National Gallery). I've never really 'looked' at his paintings - they're all very professional with clear, smooth surfaces, but not really anything out of the ordinary, at least to my eyes (although this Allegory is rather strange in composition).

He was clearly a very good painter but, then again. there have been lots of very good painters. It usually takes that something extra to make me actually 'notice' a painter and start looking at their works in a different light. That's what happened with Bronzino.

I first 'noticed' Bronzino at the very good 'Charles I' exhibition at the Royal Academy earlier this year which featured loads of works from his collection. Including a painting by Bronzino, 'Portrait of a Woman in Green'. When I saw this painting form across the room I had to take a closer look. It's a portrait of a woman, a real life, living and breathing woman, in amazing detail that brings her to life - give her modern day clothes to wear and you could see her on a bus any day of the week. Looking at that sumptuous gown and I put it in the category of 'show off' paintings with Bronzino saying 'look what I can do so effortlessly, commission me and I'll do the same for you'.  I went back a couple of times to see that painting before leaving the exhibition. Bronzino was now on my radar.

A few months later, I went to Florence, not looking for Bronzinos but I couldn't help but find them in his home town.

The first painting I found was at the marvellous basilica of Santa Croce, a very large painting of 'The Descent of Christ into Limbo'. This was, apparently, one of the first acts of the risen Christ, to save the 'good' souls of people from their eternity in Limbo, starting with his forefather, Adam. We see an athletic Christ helping the old man out of the morass of bodies consigned to Limbo, surrounded by lots of other very individual-looking people - there's no homogenisation here. I think the thing that first attracted me to the painting was the skin tone - I'd recently finished a course in portrait painting and I'd started looking at paintings and wondering how they'd achieved different colours, wondering what paints had been mixed to arrive at those tones.

In particular, there's the two slightly elongated women in the front of the scene at bottom right, with one looking out at the viewer. I've got no idea who they're meant to be but they do pull the eye away from Christ. The skill that's gone into this painting is quite incredible.

A day or two later I went to the Uffizi to look at paintings and, in a small corridor, I found a series of paintings that Bronzino had completed of people in the Medici family.

The 'Portrait of Eleanor of Toledo and her Son' is gorgeous with that elaborate dress, the stately, almost stiff, pose, with her arm around her son. She looks impassive, an almost total lack of emotion in her face but it's an incredible rendering of a young woman at the peak of her almost cold beauty. Apparently she was aged 22 when this painting was made and that was one of her favourite dresses.

It's the detail of the face that kept me looking at this painting, the almost photographic realism that brings it to life.  What was she thinking while she sat there, probably wanting to be off doing something else while he son fidgets at her side. I think the frame is a bit too ornate and detracts form the beauty of the painting.

Another incredible portrait is that of Bia de Medici. The painting was commissioned after the child had died and is based on her death mask. It's a lovely little painting and, as ever, it's the details that add to the whole, like the hints of movement in her hands, almost as if she's fidgeting on the chair to get comfortable as she sits still for the painting, bringing her back to life. There's little emotion in the face but it's still a warm and welcoming portrait.

The rather impassive, if not cold, nature of his portrait faces seems to be a trademark of his particular style but that doesn't affect their beauty or the skill exhibited. You can't really look into the soul of his sitters, their faces are a mask which the real person hides behind. Does that matter? I don't think so.

There are a few paintings by Bronzino at the National Gallery and a painting attributed to his studio in the Wallace Collection so he's not under-represented in London. I'll certainly keep my eyes peeled for more when I'm wandering around galleries.

Domenico Ghirlandaio in Florence

Frescoes and paintings by Domenico Ghirlandaio can be seen all over Florence, sometimes assisted by his brother Davide and. later, his son Ridolfo and there are paintings by Ridolfo in the Accademie. Where does one hand stop and another take over? I don't know, but all the great masters had studios and assistants and apprentices to fill in the backgrounds and suchlike. The real joy of Ghirlandaio's works is his skill with faces and his compositions of scenes and settings for his paintings. He's not necessarily a big 'name' but he ought to be - Michelangelo was a pupil for a while and he was a contemporary of Botticelli and Verrocchio (Leonardo's master).

My first stop on my recent visit to Florence was San Marco to visit the wonder that is Fra Angelico. Although the museum and convent is mainly dedicated to the works of Fra Angelico there are other painters represented in the building, including a marvellous 'Last Supper' in the former refectory of the convent which is now the gift shop (and one of the best gift shops in Florence). It's a delicate and finely detailed fresco and similar in design to the fresco in Ognissanti mentioned below.

After visiting San Marco I headed over to see Santa Maria Novella with its crucifix by Giotto, the trinity crucifixion fresco by Masaccio and a lovely little nativity scene by Botticelli above the large, main door (one of my favourite nativity scenes). It also has one of the most complete and beautiful fresco cycles by Ghirlandaio in the chapel behind the high altar.

On the left (as you look at the altar) are scenes from the life of the Virgin and on the right are scenes from the life of St John the Baptist. There are four levels of story-telling on each side so there's a lot to see and interpret. These are very popular with tour groups so make sure you've got time to wait for them to vanish before another appears so you can look at the frescoes in peace.

There are more frecoes and a gorgeous altarpiece painting in the church of Santa Trinita. This is a lovely small church and here you need to feed the light machine some coins to see the frescoes properly. I never mind doing this since it gives the church a small income from tourists and art-lovers and the church is, after all, looking after these wonderful works of art.

The altarpiece is a lovely nativity scene showing the 'Adoration of the Shepherds'. I'd love to get closer to this painting to see the detail but the altar is roped off. You can see one of the shepherds pointing downwards towards the Christ child but he's actually pointing towards the garland on the manger - Ghirlandaio's family name is 'garland-maker' after his dad's job - effectively saying, 'I made this painting'. Is that really what he looked like?

There are, of course, lots of other great paintings by masters in all the churches I'm mentioning but this is about Ghirlandaio rather than the art to be found in the churches.  

A few minutes walk further along the Arno is the church of Ognissanti where there are other frescoes by Ghirlandaio. One of my favourites was a small fresco in the nave of the church, quite high up on the right wall that shows the Madonna of Mercy protecting the Vespucci family who are sheltering beneath her cloak. It's a bit damaged but it's quite a gentle painting, with the family clustered around the Virgin praying to her. I like the two little angels holding her cloak open.

The grandest painting at Ognissanti is a large 'Last Supper' by Ghirlandaio which is in the former rectory in the quiet cloister beside the church. It's a most impressive sight. Sadly, something about the lighting has turned my photos yellowish which you don't see when you actually view the fresco. 

The fresco is painted on the end wall to look like it's an extension of the room with the table set on a small stage to raise it up. It's full of colour and vibrant detail and is similar in construction to the San Marco 'Last Supper' (above).

As ever, look at the detail in the fresco, the fruit trees in the background, the birds flying in the sky, the peacock that's come inside and sits in the side window. It's full of symbolism, of course, with hints at the garden of Eden being on the other side of the wall with the apostles being so close to heaven in the shape of the Christ who sits in the middle. The garden isn't just on the other side of the wall for the apostles but also for the monks who commissioned the painting since they were eating in this same room as well.

Further along the table we see two apostles having a chat but look at the detail on the tablecloth, at the fringes, look at what's on the table, the half empty glass bottle and the random grapes and fruit. The skill needed to accurately portray glass in fresco is really quite astonishing but, look closely, and it works. The yellowing in the photo doesn't show you what it's actually like, the colours and sharp details bringing the whole scene to life.

The room is set up with a few rows of chairs in front of the fresco for visitors to sit and contemplate the beauty and meaning of the painting. It's also roped off so you can't get too close. That's a good thing.

Neither  Ognissanti or Santa Trinita  have a shop as such but they do have some postcards which are left near the objects they show with either donation boxes or little baskets for money. That's very trusting and I approve. The cards are good quality too, so, if you go, please pay generously.

So there you have it, some of the paintings by Domenico Ghirlandaio I saw in Florence. There are others, of course, including a grand Virgin and Child in the Uffizi and other frescos in the churches I mention but haven't included here. I'll also mention Ghirlandaio's proper name of Domenico Bigordi but he'll always be known as Ghirlandaio, the garland-makers' son. 

'The Battle of Legnano' at Teatro del Maggio Musicale Fiorentino

While in Florence last week I went to see 'The Battle of Legnano' by the Opera di Firenze, a little performed opera by Verdi. The performance was at the rather box-like Teatro del Maggio Musicale. It's quite a new building just out of the centre of town but easy enough to find from Santa Maria Novella, and down it's own drive way, well away from the noise of the traffic outside. Nice and spacious inside with all the staff smartly dressed in black and white, all well scrubbed up for the final performance of the opera. It didn't seem like there was much of an atmosphere in the place but the audience seemed to be very excited.

The story is a simple tale really, of the glories of battle for your homeland spiced up with a love triangle (of course) for good measure. We meet Arrigo, a young man from Verona who loves Milan because it makes him feel alive. He was wounded in battle and thought dead but his mother nursed him back to health (there are lots of mentions of his mother but we don't see her). He meets his best friend Rolando who is astonished that Arrigo is still alive and invites him home to meet his wife, Lida, who, surprise surprise, is the love of Arrigo's life and they planned to marry before he was thought to be dead but now she is married to his friend. O woe, how can this be?

As soon as they're alone for a few minutes Arigo lays into her for being faithless and an oath-breaker since she swore to die if he did (missing the point that he didn't actually die). It's a very harsh scene where Lida accepts that she's the one at fault but I'm not sure why. She sort of blames her father for arranging the marriage to which she had to acquiesce but I went off Arrigo at that point.

Arrigo is inducted into the Knights of Death who are sworn to die in their fight against the Austrians rather than surrender or be captured and he and Rolando go off to negotiate with the elders of Como to get them to join Milan's cause. Their tactics are based on insulting the people of Como as traitors to the Italian cause which doesn't seem like a good strategy. Luckily, the evil Barbarossa, King of Austria, appears and says he's going to subjugate the whole of Italy under his boot. That does the trick and the Como elders are won over.

Of course, an opera can't possibly go that smoothly and Rolando is given a letter that Lida has written to Arrigo and that enrages him and he turns green with jealousy. He confronts the former lovers and threatens to kill them but no, a worse fate for a nationalist would be humiliation and cowardice, so he locks Arrigo in the tower while the armies go off to war, and everyone will think Arrigo is a coward. That cannot be borne so he jumps from the tower to follow the army.

The ladies of Milan gather together while the battle is happening off-stage and then a trumpet sounds and their heroes return to much rejoicing because they have won the battle. Then news comes that it was Arrigo who single-handedly proved his valour and honour by unseating Barbarossa and won the battle but at a cost. He is wheeled on stage on a gun carriage, dying from his wounds as Rolando sings his praises and Arrigo sings that he has no regrets since he is dying as a patriot for Italy. He tells Rolando that Lida is pure and honest and he should forgive them both since nothing happened which Rolando promptly does because it is the greatest sin for a man to tell a lie on his deathbed. Arrigo promptly dies and is draped in a white flag with a red cross on it (the flag of England? no, it can't be!).

So there we have it. Our hero dies as a patriot so all's well that ends well. The political messages about Italian unification and nationalism do go rather over the top and smack of nationalism to a rather unpleasant extent - a man can be forgiven anything so long as he is a nationalist. The nationalism did rather go on a bit and rubbed it in too much. I went off Arrigo after his harsh and misogynistic accusations against Lida but Lida is also a bit feeble - no Violetta from 'La Traviata' or Tosca is she. Arrigo got some of his mojo back for being valiant in battle.

Our stars were Giuseppe Gipali as Arrigo, Vittoria Yeo as Lido and Giuseppe Altomare as Rolando. I also liked Marco Spotti as red bearded Barbarossa although he was only on for a short time. The music was excellent and very stirring in places and I read the words to the songs in English in the surtitles above the stage. I liked the costumes which were very traditional with lots of flowing robes but thought the sets were a bit bare and basic and couldn't help wonder what the sets would be like at the Royal Opera House in London. That said, I thoroughly enjoyed the performance and experience of seeing an opera in the Florence opera house.

The evening was rounded off by walking beside the dark Arno back to my hotel and seeing an almost full moon over the Ponte Vecchio.