At only €4.00, the Bargello is one of the better deals in town. A surprisingly large museum devoted to statuary and objets d’art hived off from the Medici bequest that formed the basis of the Uffizi collection it is certainly much better value than the scanty Accademia. From the exterior it is an unpreposessing fortress of a building. Until 1502 this was the seat of the town’s governing magistrate or Podesta. In George Elliot’s ‘Romola’ the heroine’s kindly godfather is executed here, accused of plotting the return of the Medici. The building served as police headquarters and prison until Florence’s assimilation into the Kingdom of Italy.
The visitor enters into a tall courtyard emblazoned with the coats of arms of generations of magistrates. A wide stone staircase leads up to a loggia. But first double back into the the main ground floor room. Your first sight will be of Giambologna’s ‘Winged Mercury’ sprouting from a man’s mouth. Head left and there are some good works by
Michelangelo – a bust of Brutus (a bit political when you recall his cry of ‘sic semper tyrannus’), the charming round Tondo Pitti, and a woozy-looking Bacchus, sculpted when he was just 22. There are a couple more statues of Bacchus here by other sculptors, all looking more-or-less the worse for drink. Look out also for Ammannati’s Leda being well and truly nuzzled by her swan lover.
There are more birds on the loggia. Here you will find an entire aviary of cast birdlife – owls, hens, hawks and a turkey included. It is here that Romola stands torn in the Elliot novel as followers of her mentor Savonarola kill her beloved godfather.
Next door we find not one, but two ‘David’s, both by
Donatello, one in marble, one in bronze. The latter lay flat on its back, as the conservation authorities have decided to restore the statue in situ, under the full gaze of the public. It is expected that this delicate work will take until the end of 2008. One and a half metres tall, this David wears boots and a cap, but has tragically forgotten to put on the rest of his clothing. In Donatello’s eyes David is a puckish boy, not the mighty muscular warrior of Michelangelo’s reckoning.
On this floor we also have a collection of Islamic artwork, and a chamber of ivories. Ever parochial, I found myself drawn to a stunning little English quadryptich (?) – four individuals carved from bone in the late 14th century. There is also a rather nice double-sided chess / backgammon board.
On the top floor there are lots of della Robbia ceramics. Don’t like ‘em. They look like the sort of twee excrescences you would find despoiling a late Victorian chapel, all pretty-pretty ‘Ooh, aren’t children sweet’ saccharine-ness. Bleurgh. However, there is also a salon with fantastic (literally!) weaponry – ornate polearms, crested helmets, and nine-barrelled pistols (for when your eight-barrelled pistol just isn’t enough…)
At €4.00, the Bargello is a snip.You see a lot more works by Michelangelo here than you do in the Accademia, and in addition you get works by many other great artists. I find it hard to understand why Donatello’s two Davids are not on the main tourist train, but Michelangelo’s poorly-proportioned version is. Still, it does mean that you avoid the worst of the crowds at the Bargello. Let’s just kep it our little secret shall we?