Florence is a city that assaults your senses with a barrage of stimuli as soon as you get down at the railway station of Firenze SMN. You encounter the vestiges of past interspersed with modern glamour. Churches stand together with modern shops selling everything ranging from suits, sunglasses, jewelry to designer lingerie.
Visit Duomo and you see the magnificent cathedral of Saint Marie of flower with its ancient dome designed by Brunelleschi- the evocative fresco of last judgment painted inside it, the campanile which offers a panoramic view of whole Florence once you climb it- all a beautiful relic of the past. However the outside is as modern as it can be. To give an example you have an outlet of Ben and Jerry’s icecream, where you can have a large cup of ‘gelato’ just for 4 euroes. This was just an example. The cohabitation of the ancient and modern world is visible all over Florence.
However the ‘peaceful cohabitation’ is a cohabitation limited to the material things only- a fact that I realized when I visited Ponte Vecchio- Florence’s only medieval bridge that survived world war.
Its free to visit the bridge, no fee of any kind is required; you only need to exert your feet. That’s why there is a crowd of tourist taking pictures, looking at the scenic view of the undulation of the river flowing underneath or just lounging around. This large number attracts a group of performers who showcase their skills looking to earn appreciation and some coins.
So there I was after the harrowing climb of the Giotto’s campanile and a spirited walk that lead us through the corridors of Uffizi to ponte vecchio where among other things I saw a guitarist. The guy was dressed in simple jeans and shirt with a waistcoat and a simple hat (kinda like jack sparrow but in a more sober and sensible manner). His arms were slightly tattooed which reminded me of the rockstars of the yore. The guitarist and his bass guitar both were, to say at the least old, if not ancient. However when it came to playing, he had a surgeon’s finger- decisive, unhesitant and unwavering with the guitar responding with a maturity that can only come after year of practice. It was a sight to see him- deeply immersed in the music giving no damn to people congregating around. It was as if he knew that people needed his music more than he needed their coins.
At that time I was in a hurry for the Baboli gardens were about to close, so much so that I almost didn’t notice a group of young musicians setting up the stage for their performance. They had high power speakers, a portable generator and what not.
When I came back the already cacophonous bridge had one more sound added to it-a sound that overpowered everything else. This was the group of young musicians belting out their tunes from the top of makeshift platform. The songs were melodious; however they didn’t possess the old man’s calming effect. Unlike him their music was the music for the sake of crowd. They didn’t care for their songs as much as they cared about the coins. And for that they were ready to do anything.
Their loud speakers drowned the weak sound produced by the old man’s guitar. The strumming of the guitar produce no discernable sound, it was as if the strings were mute. With no other alternative in sight the old man packed his guitar and left the stage with a sad smile on his face.
This raised some questions in my mind. We look at the buildings and appreciate the master of ancient craftsman but when we come across someone or something old, be it tradition religion or even a person, we dismiss them. Their point of view, their knowledge, their wisdom, is given no attention by us. And soon they fade away in the background. In my view they at least deserve some respect.
What do you think?
Adios.
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