PUNKED BY A MIME ARTIST OUTSIDE THE UFFIZI GALLERY
Florence's Piazzale degli Uffizi, in the shadow of the celebrated museum, is a place of passage but also a strange world of its own.
There are hordes of tourists. There are hordes of vendors selling stuff to tourists. There is a smattering of pickpockets and con artists, of course.
Most notably, there is a curious caste of “entertainers”, generally described as “mime artists”— although many are not. They hold static poses and don’t mime (let alone speak, unless cornered by their public).
Some are local and some are foreign —but whoever they are and wherever they come from, they can claim a venerable pedigree.
Their predecessors struck poses plastiques (sculptural poses), formed tableaux vivants (living pictures) and contrived attention-grabbing scenes of every kind.
Needless to say, much of the Pose Plastique and Tableau Vivant craze of yesteryear was shaped by legislation governing public nudity.
Although the Florentine Museums are chock full of alluring statues to imitate, we look in vain for that sort of spectacle in the PIazzale degli Uffizi.
"Marco" (does anyone know his last name?) is the doyen of the freeze-frame artists, some would say their Philosopher King.
For over twenty-five years, he has been channeling Dante —becoming "Grandpa Dante" along the way.
While remaining staunchly in character, he developed a grave yet benevolent style of his own.
In fact, "Grandpa Dante" is probably the most meaningful example of Italian-Chinese cultural exchange since the days of Marco Polo at least.
A Zen thing maybe?
This "pure soul" won a devoted Asian following and is particularly loved by Chinese children.
No one would ever take this smirking Grandpa Cupid for a "pure soul", but he too became an established presence at the loggia of the Uffizi.
And I remember various others over the years... Unfortunately, I can't find a trace of that woman who did the Statue of Liberty. She kept her torch-bearing arm raised for hours at a time, while nodding graciously and smiling like Lady Di opening a branch library.
Then there were the zingare (ladies of the Rom or Sinti people) who were neither gracious nor beloved.
Some years ago, the Florentine police cracked down on begging in the tourist center and a few enterprising spirits discovered that mime artists were legally protected as street performers. The Italian equivalent of a First Amendment carve-out, I suppose?
A bunch of simpering jerks who should go back where they came from...
A close-up of the same simpering jerks...
As you probably guessed, I am burying the real story in "context" — hoping that you will bail on this deviously long-winded post.
But let me state for the record: Piazzale degli Uffizi has Mime Artists too —the kind that actually mime.
Who are we both looking at— the Killer Klown and me?
My camera-wielding brother, of course!
He shot a rapid burst of photos from 4:17 to 4:18 on the afternoon of Monday July 2, 2014.
Meanwhile, Mister Fun was near enough to nibble on my earlobe and I hadn't a clue.
Where are we exactly?
Standing in the Piazzale degli Uffizi, looking across the Loggia dei Lanza toward Piazza della Signoria.
Center stage, we have Benvenuto Cellini's Perseus. In the background, the usual clutter of touristic voyeurs.
Waiting for the penny to drop...
Meanwhile, everyone but Grandpa Nitwit knew that his own brother had set him up.
Lo and freaking behold...
After coaxing me into pathetic poses (to the delight of all), my brother pointed over my shoulder and signaled "turn around".
Don't you hate it when you have no choice but to be a good sport?
My only consolation? The disappointed look from the woman in blue lowering her camera.
So I knew...
And Bozo knew that I knew...
Was that the end of the trolling?
Of course not!
But what could I do except cut and run— with a grinning sociopath in hot pursuit?
PARENTHETICALLY:
A seeming inspiration for my psychotic stalker?
Not hardly... the "encounter" in Piazzale degli Uffizi took place in 2014, five years before the release of THE JOKER.
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Perhaps a bit nearer to the Italian soul?
Maybe... but Giulietta Masina seems downright cuddly by comparison.
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Zero degrees of separation to count!
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