Pink! As the scaffolding came down, floor by floor, the colour of the palazzo emerged. There was no way of pretending - it was pink. Pink may be fine in Portofino but it is, shall we say, unusual, two hundred metres from Brunelleschi's dome.
The architect arrived in a hurry (or do I mean flurry?) Pink? We all looked at the palazzo and at him, in turns. Accusingly. A long explanation of the chemical interactions that take place between the various layers and composites of the intonaco and its colour was listened to with respect - and disbelief. Even the architect didn't believe the sound of his own voice; and the only thing holding the tongue of the representative of the Sovvrintendenza was the knowledge that he had accompanied the restorers to the colorists and approved the final layer of the building, himself, in person. It's an important piece of renaissance Florence streetscape, after all.
Blushes all round, from the palazzo outwards. Putting back the scaffolding would cost a fortune and insurrection from the neighbours, and from users of central Florence. And if what the architect said was correct, who knows what these complex chemical interactions of air, and layers of building-cover, and colour might produce at the next attempt. So we all gave our palazzo one last chance and a stern warning - turn glowing, apricot blushing cream by the day after tomorrow or .....or what? Else, we said firmly.
This morning the sun rose on an apricot confection of total loveliness - shutters coated in a very best quality dark chocolate with a dash of milk colour, walls glowing golden in the dawn. Phew.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment