It was already something I was looking forward to - getting to see the Sistine Chapel - and I was even willing to endure the 90+ degree heat to do it, but when I was handed the entrance ticket, my heart jumped into my throat. The image decorating the backside of the ticket wasn’t the Michelangelo scene of Creation, as I would’ve most suspected. Rather, it was two figures whom I instantly recognized as Plato and Aristotle from the School of Athens painting by Rafael. I’ve used this painting every year in teaching History 8 to introduce Renaissance style, and I knew it was in the Vatican, but I was sure it required a special ticket, and we had barely secured these at the last minute.
I pointed it out to my brother and family, but we had no certainty whether this was a clue that we’d see the Rafael on our tour. So, with a smidge of hope, we joined the long line of ants shuffling from room to room, following the signs toward the Sistine Chapel. It took close to an hour, but finally my hope seemed to be approaching reality when we entered the first of three “rooms of Rafael.” Fiona smiled and I clapped my hands with glee while my nieces all asked “What’s so special?!”
Even while I pointed out arches and blue sky and facial features and characters and the self-portrait, I marveled myself at the vibrancy of the colors and the knowledge of muscles and the foresight Rafael must have had before the first brush stroke. He's staring out at is, daring us to criticize, and I have to wonder if he knew this would be the room and this the wall that would most draw the eye. Megan was quick to name the Greek god statues, and Olivia knew extra facts about them. The younger girls distracting themselves, creating stories about the lone woman (Hypatia). I’m no artist and have only stuck my baby toe into art appreciation, but I was exceedingly aware of what an unexpected gift this moment was.
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