Before visiting the Uffizi, we were warned of its ability to overwhelm. There is a pressing urge to see every piece, step into every room and absorb all of the glory. In order to combat the museum’s power, I had to accept that I would not be able to see everything. And there’s a difference between looking and seeing. You can look at something without really seeing it. When it comes to art—especially in a museum—the ability to see is illusory: hoped for, but seldom achieved. Anyone can look, but not all can see. Heading into the Uffizi, I was not sure how many pieces of art I’d truly see, but I would do my best to at least look. And there was no shortage of things to look at. The Uffizi itself is a masterpiece with its beautifully tiled floors, intricately painted ceilings, and carefully crafted hallways and staircases. You might not always pay attention to the actual building when visiting a museum, but the architecture of the Uffizi does not go unnoticed.
Up staircases and around corners, we followed the path to Botticelli. The Botticelli rooms consisted of two crowds: one for La Primavera and one for The Birth of Venus. We entered the room behind La Primavera’s crowd. People shuffled past each other, muttering their insights and lifting their phones high over-head to snap the perfect picture. While waiting my turn to edge up towards the front, I curiously watched the people around me and I began to see something I hadn’t expected to. I was looking at the paintings, but what I was seeing was how other people observed the art. There’s a certain way that people move through a museum; it’s a sort of slow, meandering stroll that flows from one piece of art to the next.
The stroll is steady unless a famous painting, like La Primavera, is happened upon. Then, a swaying crowd of people shuffling and shifting their weight forms as they admire the work before wandering on to the next one. Another popular stop was Michelangelo’s Doni Tondo. While standing behind this crowd, I started thinking: what does it mean to see a piece of art? And further, how many things have I missed seeing because I was just looking? It’s like the saying “the journey is the destination.” Sometimes we can get so caught up in moving from one thing to another that we forget to appreciate the things in-between. But slowing down has never been easy for me. I’m a goal-oriented, determined person and I don’t like to waste time. Like many people I’m bothered by traffic, slow walkers and running late. It takes serious effort on my part to do more than just look, but over the course of this trip, I’ve been forced to do just that. Being in an unfamiliar place with a way of life so different from what I’m accustomed to has shown me a lot. I may have arrived in Florence, but my journey is far from over. With very museum I visit, every walk I take, and every day that passes I am seeing more and more of the world around me and I could not be more grateful.
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