On a sweltering day in June, a man stares fixedly on his work, canvas strewn across his lap, alternately dipping his brush between water and the color that will release the beauty that is in his mind.
His name is Carlo Crolli. He sits under a hunter green umbrella next to a large stone wall that surrounds one side of Palazzo Pitti, the former home of the famous Medici family of Florence. He is
of average size and silver hair covers most his head and his face. His eyes, lined by wrinkles made from years of smiles, squint in the bright sunlight. Sweat drips from his brow as he looks over the glasses perched on his nose to paint the bridge Florence is famous for, the Ponte Vecchio. He uses a picture the size of a playing card for reference, although he hardly looks at it. A set of watercolors, half used, sits strategically in the corner. He gently touches the brush to the canvas, a dark brown bleeding out. The painting is in the beginning stages, but already a scene can be made out. A stream of artists line up here, waiting for tourists to buy their work.
As I approach him, he looks up with a warm smile and a “Ciao!” He does not speak English very well but is eager to talk. I speak no Italian and he speaks some English, so when the language barrier caused problems, we conversed in Spanish. He offers me a place to sit down, and when I refused, he insisted even more firmly, hurriedly moving his scattered art supplies out of the way.
He began painting when he was only 10 years old. A love for art flourished, and he taught for many years at the Accademia D’Arte in Florence. He was married once, but now he seems to be married to his passion. His love for his art is evident and his people skills are even more obvious. He picked this place because many people visit the Palazzo Pitti, but it is more quiet than most of the tourist areas. When I ask why he loves to paint, he replies in broken English, “for me, it is happy”.
Two American ladies, one a short and Hispanic Californian and the other a tall, white New Yorker, both with thick accents, come up to view his work while I take photos, and his eyes lit up with excitement. He moves his work station from his lap again and holds his brush with his mouth as he digs through his inventory of watercolor paintings for them to look through and points to his favorites. Scenes of Florence like the Duomo and Ponte Vecchio, were mixed in with countryside landscapes and flowers. They chose three long and narrow simple paintings of red poppies and he carefully wrapped the paintings in cardboard and paper for protection. Both women thanked him multiple times, and went on their way. He seems pleased with the interaction.
Clearly, this man is well educated and could be doing anything other than sitting out on the street, day after day in the hot sun, waiting for people to approach him. What strikes me is the pure joy that he has in doing something so simple. His passion inspires me to delve into something I love so wholeheartedly.
Although the language barrier limited our interaction through words, Crolli’s character and personality shines through the way he expresses himself, interacts with others and unleashes his creativity. Happiness radiates from him and I can’t help but smile while talking with him. As I leave, I thank him many times and say goodbye. He returns to his chair, places his tools back in his lap in their rightful place and returns to his work as if I had never been there.
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