PLAGUE ART (Death on Horseback)

Breaking bounds in the depths of the COVID Quarantine...

In those stir-crazy times, going out for a walk was strictly forbidden —so the secret was to pretend that I wasn't going for a walk.

A harmless older guy? Ambling by with a conspicuous pharmacy bag (sheer camouflage, of course)?

I couldn't imagine that the Carabinieri would bother much.

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So, I headed over the railroad tracks to the Campo di Marte quarter, past the subsidiary train station of that name.

Even in normal times, this is probably my favorite part of Florence.

It is blissfully free of marauding tourists and ancient monuments —both of which can get in your way when you're not in the mood.

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In regard to moods, Quartiere Campo di Marte can capture the spirit of the city more intensely than any of its more celebrated neighborhoods —if you stop and look.

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Campo di Marte (Field of Mars) was originally laid out as a military parade ground, then it came to host modern athletic facilities of various kinds— including Florence's principal soccer stadium.

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Even when a plague is not raging, this neighborhood can feel like the outer edge of the city— except on game days, when it suddenly becomes the beating heart.

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Funny thing though...

Even the most massive sports facilities can prove oddly impermanent —as the years pass and lives change course.  

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I have always been intrigued by this compact little structure from the Mussolini period, with its rationalist design and crisp edging in travertine marble (the Fascist building material par excellence).

So far as I can tell, it was  the ticket office for a now vanished military stadium. It's newish replacement (a state-of-the-art track and field venue) looms immediately behind.

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On the projecting cornice, beneath the stone ledge (evidently local pietra serena):

AMICIZIA * COLORE * ALLEGRIA * "MURO CONTRO MURO" * FELICITÀ * AMORE...

That is to say:

FRIENDSHIP * COLOR * JOY * "WALL AGAINST WALL" * HAPPINESS * LOVE...

(Another inspiring word got lost behind the fence.)

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This all burst forth a couple of years before the pandemic and will no doubt fade away in due course.

A relentless swirl of good intentions— brain-stormed by local elementary school kids (I would guess), cued by over-eager adults.

MURO CONTRO MURO???

"Wall Against Wall" is an old Italian expression —signaling an impasse, a failure of communication, a mute obstruction that can lead to worse.

But there is more to the MURO thing...

The MURI DELLA GENTILEZZA (Walls of Kindness) movement erupted with a vengeance, throughout Italy and maybe beyond.

The concept is simple: You and your friends adopt an abandoned wall. You hand your best selves a few buckets of paint. Then —with the help of social media— the world becomes a finer place.

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We can get lost for ages, unpacking the weirdly upbeat messages —which come at us from every direction at once.

Under a row of Florentine lilies, a guy reaches through a hole in a fence (or tennis net?) and shakes hands wtih another guy— diversely enabled in a wheelchair. ("Communication" and "Understanding", it would seem.)

Then there are five stars from the Florentine football team (circa 2016-17)— diverse but only somewhat (two white Spaniards, a white Argentine, a white Italian and a black Colombian).

Plus blocks from a dismantled wall— picking up the MURO theme.

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Then a boxing ring with two white contenders under a flowering tree which sheds... leaves or fruit? ...labeled:

D*I*S*U*G*U*A*G*L*I*A*N*Z*A (Inequality).

On the railings, the fighters are labeled INTEGRAZIONE (Integration) and PREGIUDIZIO (Prejudice).

"Prejudice" gets the stuffing beat out of him while "Integration" prevails.

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For years, I had been walking by this curious monument once or twice a week, watching the memes of the day come and go.

Then COVID struck and nothing looked the same (especially if you were venturing out of your house for illegal exercise while wearing a mask).

Death on horseback— shooting arrows of contagion —is the most visceral emblem of the ancient Plague.

I can only guess what this scene was meant to conjure circa 2016, but by 2020 it's old-yet-new meaning was inescapable.

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Then there was the rainbow thing...

In Judaeo-Christian culture, it conjures God's reconciliation with the Jewish people (mankind more generally, if you prefer) after Noah's flood.

I have put my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between Myself and the world. When I send clouds over the earth, the rainbow will be seen in the clouds, and I will remember the covenant... and there will never again be a flood to destroy all life. (Genesis 8:21)

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Mercy and redemption, a potent symbol, the rainbow accrued layers of meaning as the years passed.

"Peace" was inherent in its message from the very beginning and in Italy it became the omnipresent emblem of opposition to the 2003 Iraq War.

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Then there was "rainbow equals diversity" (multicolored, you see).

Sexual, racial and whatever else comes to mind.

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Then COVID struck, stranding countless children at home with nothing to do except drive their parents crazy.

But anyone with crayons or water-colors and too much time can fashion a rainbow...

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Then there is the biblically correct post-deluge message, "Once we get through this, everything will be fine".

But God's "there will never again be a flood" covenant proved sadly illusory.

COVID vanished briefly then came hurtling back— giving kids plenty more time to make rainbows.

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A distinctly local variant of a common theme...

Below the rainbow sign is a typical Florentine buchetta da vino —the small arched window through which landowners sold their home-made wine.

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So, people burrowed through their closets and attics seeking proudly faded Iraqi peace flags.

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