LernerMedia Places: Firenze (Florence) — Spiritual Fusion of Art and Science

As this post discusses some aspects of what I define as spirituality (certainly only my limited personal definitions and views), it is prudent to start with a few disclaimers. The most important disclaimer is that although I use “we” quite a bit, anyone who has worked with us knows that Brenda is independently intelligent and insightful, and does not share my views on all matters.

There is no place for the supernatural in science, and I regard spiritual matters, at their core, as intensely private matters. Regardless, we’ve adopted a fascination and sometimes profound appreciation for the cultural aspects of religion. We also tend to observe the calendar and rituals of our milieux du jour.

My working definition of a “soul” includes that part of you that can’t helped but be moved by the dedication of people to life, work, and art undertaken as part of their faith. Balancing this, of course, is the line from A Room with a View, where a remark that the Basilica di Santa Croce, in Firenze (Florence), was “built on faith” is explained as meaning “the workers were not paid properly.”

With reservations to write about the soaring spirituality of the utterly humanistic Pantheon in Paris, and my annual meditations in front of Newton’s tomb at Westminster Abby, one of the most spiritually moving places related to Christianity in Europe can be found in Florence. Although better known for its treasures of art and architecture, Florence portrays passion for art and science like no other city in the world.

Brenda at Basilica di Santa Croce.

Walking into the Basilica di Santa Croce in Florence immediately puts the Italian love of art and science in perspective. To the left is the tomb of Galileo, to the right, the tomb of Michelangelo, each a venerated monument to towering talent and genius. (The photos shown were taken looking toward the front entrance and so the tombs are reversed, with Galileo’s on the right side of the screen.)

It’s always profoundly moving spot to stand for a few moments. We’ve been privileged to work and visit Florence almost a dozen times, and spent weeks working there. One of our daughters studied art restoration there, and lived in the city for more than a year. We have many good colleagues in Florence, and we know the city well. I always try to sneak a visit to this “spiritual” spot.

What also makes it profoundly moving is noticing who goes unnoticed — it is a humbling life lesson. Buried in the floor between these giants of science and art lie the remains of the once mighty and powerful — the princes, politicians, and church officials — who constituted the Florentine elite of their respective days.Their tombs, often inscribed with the details of the occupant’s power to make war or issue edicts, show the weathering effects of time and millions of indifferent shuffling shoes beating a path to pay homage elsewhere.

After a few minutes of respectful reflection, I usually turn and head back out the door. While the ever-present tour groups head across the Piazza di Santa Croce and then turn right to scurry toward Brunelleschi’s famous dome atop the Duomo (the cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore); or to form a crowd in front of thegolden doors of the Baptistery of San Giovann;or to circle Michelangelo’s David at the Galleria dell’Accademia, I make a left turn and head toward the Istituto e Museo di Storia della Scienza [IMSS or History of Science Museum] situated near the Uffizi along the Arno.

The IMSS is favorite personal destination and a good place to work. It’s a museum dedicated to both the preservation of science history and vibrant presentations of science theory. Its collection, dating to the 13th century, includes clocks, compasses, microscopes, and a myriad of other scientific instruments — many hand crafted by Galileo.

The museum, located inside the Palazzo Castellani, is also one of the world’s most modern museums and prized research centers.In addition to hosting a number of seminars and conferences each year, IMSS publishes a biannual review on the History of Science (Nuncius. Annali di Storia della Scienza) and other specialized publications. The museum maintains an online exhibit catalogue. More modern scientific achievements are described in presentations devoted to Evangelista Torricelli’s discovery of the weight of air, the first explorations of the nature of a vacuum, electrical aurora, frictional electrostatics, the gold-leaf electroscope, and Volta’s lamp-lighter. Although some of the presentations are in Italian only, an increasing number are available in English.

The exhibition halls of the IMSS contain a wide array of instruments used in Galilean experiments. Beautifully crafted celestial globes and other models demonstrate the Copernican system and Kepler’s laws of planetary motion. The floor exhibition also offers a chance to gaze upon and into Galileo’s telescope. In addition to exhibition halls, the museum consists of a library, archives, and a series of laboratories dedicated to application and advancement of multimedia, photographic, and restoration technologies.

IMSS exhibits are renowned for their artistically inspired insight into some of the most fundamental principles of science.

One exhibit also provides a bit of enduring humor for the classroom or lecture hall. On exhibit at IMSS is Galileo’s detached right middle finger (the rest of his remains are, as previously mentioned, at the Basilica di Santa Croce).

Photos of the famous finger (and, of course, it is also the finger used for “giving someone the finger”) find their way into many of my lectures and usually became a running joke over a series of lectures or exams.

After a particularly tough lecture, or after administering a brutal exam, I used to ask, “Now, for an extra 2 points on the next exam, show me which of Galileo’s fingers is housed at the History of Science Museum in Florence!”

There is just something deeply and mutually cathartic about a mass of students shooting hands skyward to show the teacher “the finger.”