Umbria – Michelle Locke

I first became fascinated with ugly Renaissance babies in 2011 when I paid a visit to the National Gallery of Umbria in Perugia. I had some time to kill and wandered around looking at all the Madonnas and other ladies with a baby and I was stunned at how … odd the infants looked. They had these adult expressions translated into chubby little features with the result that most of them resembled nothing so much as pint-sized satyrs who’d seen it all, drunk it all, done it all. I’m talking Romper Room Reprobates here.

I’ve since discovered I’m not alone in my obsession with these enfants terribles. There’s an entire Tumblr dedicated to Ugly Renaissance Babies; it’s hilarious; I highly recommend it.

But there’s nothing like a little firsthand experience so finding myself in the Umbrian village of Montefalco recently, I took a quick spin around the small but charming museum housed in a former church and Franciscan monastery. Would they have paintings of babies? I wondered. And would said babies sport just the right creep factor of world weariness on their fleshy little faces?

Yes and yes.

Here are my favorites and the messages I believe they’re conveying across the centuries:

THIS BABY IS SO OVER YOU ASKING IF THOSE PANTS MAKE YOU LOOK FAT. YOUR FAT MAKES YOU LOOK FAT.

THIS BABY WILL ANSWER YOUR FOOLISH QUESTIONS JUST AS SOON AS HE DECIDES WHETHER TO SQUEEZE THE BIRD TO DEATH OR POKE ITS EYE OUT.*

*Bonus points for the bird’s understandably lively look of apprehension.

THIS BABY DOES NOT BELIEVE FOR A SECOND THAT YOU ACCIDENTALLY TEXTED THAT GUY.

FIVE TIMES.

THIS BABY IS NOT ANGRY, JUST VERY, VERY DISAPPOINTED THAT THERE IS ONCE AGAIN NO RUBBER DUCKY IN HIS BATH.*

*And if it happens again he’s taking away the other half of that lady’s head.

THIS BABY KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE THINKING, AND QUITE FRANKLY HE JUST. DOES. NOT. GIVE. ONE. DAMN.*

*Yeah, he full-on killed his bird. What of it?

Cheers, maternally.

Is there anything finer than sitting in a cafe with nothing particular to do? I’ll save you some trouble, the answer is no … unless you can do it while watching other people scurrying around madly.

That’s what I’m doing this week, spending a couple of days in Perugia where the sensational trial of Amanda Knox is wrapping up with a verdict expected soon in her appeal of an earlier conviction in the stabbing death of her roommate, Meredith Kercher.

Why am I here? Well, it’s a long story, but the short version is you need to be prepared to be flexible when you arrange to have a little holiday with a news reporter.

Perugia, which is in the Central Italy region of Umbria, is built on a hill and I believe I’ve already climbed about 5,000 stairs. Luckily, there’s a very cool system of escalators that zips you up and down some of the main thoroughfares with the greatest of ease. One series of escalators takes you through the remains of Rocca Paolina, once a powerful fortress five levels high and still impressive with its thick stone walls. I’ve ridden up and down a few times, just like a 5-year-old playing on the moving staircase in Macy’s.

Reporters here waiting for the verdict in the Knox case don’t seem to be having so much fun. I see them bustling around town, phones to their ears, or sitting in little bunches in cafes sipping espressos.

Inspired by all that energy I did a little investigative reporting of my own, checking out the local wines at sidewalk cafes. I found one I liked a lot called grechetto, a grape variety commonly grown in Umbria that produces a beautiful, pale gold wine. The aroma was a little bit of fruit salad and honey and the taste continued that theme with the addition of some canteloupe.

Nothing makes me happier than discovering a new white wine, so score a scoop for me. After all, my motto has always been “if it’s news to me, it’s news.”

Cheers.

Category: Umbria

The Secret Lives of Renaissance Babies

Umbrian interlude