Member-only story
Modeling for Giacometti is not like Modeling for Vogue
A story in the Italian countryside
When the train arrived at Florence’s Santa Maria Novella station, Elsa rented a snub-nosed green Fiat 128 from Avis and they retrieved her son from a frowning maid stationed at the black iron gate of a 16th century palazzo fronted by an ancient stone fountain.
Loree could see a startlingly white peacock in the garden.
Nine-year-old Fiorenzo resembled his mother with the same glossy black hair, dark blue up-slanted eyes, tiny nose, and full lips.
Before driving to the country, Elsa led them on a tour of the Uffizi. She whispered to Loree, “His father would never take him to a museum. Maybe a football match. Renzo has to rely on me for any cultural education at all. Of course, growing up in Florence, one must develop a certain innate appreciation for beauty.”
Loree was mesmerized with the portraits by the 16th century painter Agnolo Bronzino, with their jewel-toned backgrounds and luminous facial features; her eyes were particularly riveted to one painting of a solemn-faced young blonde girl emerging from a background resembling a star sapphire.
After two hours in the museum, though, she became satiated by the overabundance of man-made beauty.
