florence – Finding Florence

How Moradi il Sedicente Keeps Art Alive in Florence

written by Kaylin Martinez, Elena Beenblossom & Rachel Ward

This blog feature is an exclusive bonus installment to our Fall 2025 issue of Blending Magazine. After you finish reading, be sure to explore the rest of the magazine online—just follow this link to download the full Fall 2025 edition:
https://jschoolfua.com/images/BM/BM_151.pdf

In the heart of Renaissance Florence, history is not just confined to museum walls; instead, it floods the streets, where the art can truly come alive. Florentine street artist, Moradi il Sedicente, creates art through his surrounding resources, intentionally interacting with the environment around him. As an artist, Moradi believes that art “shouldn’t be trapped in galleries — it should grow from the ground, from the city itself.”

Born in Florence in 1980, Moradi creates art organically, made from branches, leaves, axes, and memory. Looking further into his pieces, it is visible that his works have a deeper meaning; his installations are mostly found in places that he knows well, spaces that he can connect with and understand. Originally having a passion for painting, Moradi found inspiration through nature and what it evokes. He began to adopt the theory behind street art, aiming to connect his art with his viewers. Pieces that have been seen around Florence have revolved mainly around animals made out of wood, but the meaning goes beyond that. Seen through his social media, he further explains the depth behind his pieces. For instance, “I’ve always believed that Nature should take back her space” (27 April 2020). That is supporting the sculpture of a deer standing by the River Arno.

When walking through Florence, it is not uncommon to come across one of Moradi’s creations emerging from an unexpected corner of the city. A realistic crocodile covered in bark sits on Lungarno Torrigiani, while a statue of a unicorn stands tall in Anoncella Park, serving as a symbol of rebirth after a destructive storm that destroyed the park in 2015.

Each sculpture seamlessly blends into the surroundings of the city due to the natural materials used to build it. Viewers of the artwork are typically drawn in by the details used in creating these pieces, unsure at first whether they are seeing an artwork or something that has simply taken shape on its own. This quiet merging of art and environment captures the essence of Moradi’s work, inviting viewers to rediscover the connection between nature and urban life.

Moradi’s creations often emerge from what others might overlook, materials such as discarded branches, fragments of wood, and remnants of nature. By reconstructing these materials into expressive, often animalistic forms, he gives new life to the remnants of the natural world. Florence’s environment seems to bring each piece to life with its artistic history, architecture, and heritage. This relationship between Moradi’s work and Florence’s identity is central to his practice. The city of Florence has long been defined by its appreciation for the Renaissance era, and Moradi’s work is an extension of that natural beauty that was once so prevalent. His materials are fragile, temporary, and deeply tied to the cycles of life and death in nature. Instead of striving for timelessness, he allows his works to weather, to rot, to be reclaimed by their environment. Viewers of his work comment, “his pieces don’t stand out at a first glance, and then suddenly it’s there, like the city is breathing.”

After a quick scroll through Moradi il Sedicente’s Instagram page, his devotion to his art becomes very apparent. As he describes, his work is “a profound journey of listening, creation, and connection, where nature, landscape, and community intertwine in a single, vibrant breath” (23 July 2025). This statement reflects his belief that each piece is more than a sculpture, and is a direct act of participation with Florence’s surroundings and those who inhabit it. Moradi’s art is not meant to be admired as a singular work of art but as part of the street art culture of Florence. His “installations that blend with the territory, inviting passers-by to pause, observe, and feel” (8 August 2025) embody the idea that art should emerge from life itself. In this way, his social media presence extends his practice beyond the physicalities, becoming another form of connection, and sharing the evolving relationship between art and nature.

Through his blending of tradition and modern technique, Moradi has the means to reshape the understanding of what it is like to be a contemporary Florentine artist today. His sculptures, crafted from reclaimed materials and natural elements, serve as quiet reminders that beauty in Florence is not only in its past but also in a constant transformation. Moradi’s work invites both tourists and locals to reflect on the placement and purpose of the art, suggesting that creativity in Florence is not confined to its museums or monuments. Instead, it lives and evolves within the everyday landscape, continuing the city’s long tradition of reinvention through artistic expression.

Little Things That Last

Florence’s Love for Physical Memories and Moments

written by Reegan Parker, Sophie Mosolino & Grace Heffernan

In a world where memories live on screens, Italy still treasures those you can hold in your hands. From collecting an abundance of old receipts from local cafes, to postcards in little shops, to stopping at a vintage photo booth to capture a night with your friends, the charm of Italian travel is not stored in photo albums or Instagram posts. These small physical items we’ve collected throughout several months of living here serve as little stepping stones of a life journey we will never forget. These tangible mementos keep the memories abroad alive.

Italian Momentos

Italy is a country that celebrates the art of slowing down a busy life and noticing the small beauties hidden inside little cobblestoned streets, trattorias, and museums. A simple business card of a cafe can take you back to the best croissant you’ve ever had, a postcard from Cinque Terre can bring back the visuals of bright colored buildings and bottles of limoncello. Even an empty wine bottle can shift you back to reminiscing a night filled with laughter and the people you were with. Postcards, a piece of jewelry, or an empty candy wrapper can provide a sense of closeness to the traditions that Florence has to offer. They can even be brought back to America to remember what it felt like to be immersed in this beautiful culture.

Preserved Memories

To further our observations, we asked a few of our roommates also studying abroad in Florence what physical objects they hold close to them. Many of them cherish the Fotoautomatica photo booth strips. They shared that the photo strips remind them of spontaneous nights out with their best friends, preserving a happy moment in time with the flash of a camera. The vintage look of

the photos is unique to any other photo you could take on a cell phone and print out, providing a different and nostalgic sense of emotion that brings back memories every time you look at it. For instance, one of our friends has collected postcards everywhere she has traveled, from Paris to Greece. “I’m keeping these forever,” she says as the postcards are displayed proudly on her bulletin board. These physical mementos will hold a place in most everyone’s heart, and hands, which makes it so special to keep them preserved for a lifetime.

A Cultural Souvenir

Furthermore, the attachment to physical objects is deeply rooted in Italian culture, a culture that proudly preserves its history. From making pasta with your hands, to pouring the perfect glass of

Chianti wine with pride, Italy treasures the physical parts of experiences. In America, we’ve experienced the shift of most things being digitalized for ease and efficiency. This goes hand in hand with the dynamic, capitalistic culture of the United States many have grown up with. This is very different from the cultures we have experienced in Italy, where schedules are slower and structured with intentional rest and reset. People in Florence walk slower, enjoy lengthy meals with friends and family, and life is seen to be enjoyed and not occupationally or financially maximized. The objects and mementos have reflected these mannerisms, to savor and remember each moment spent through something physical. As sojourners visiting Italy for a stretch of time, these simple mementos and joys are something we recognize and cherish, and we will proudly bring back these pieces of Italian culture and community with us when we return to America.

Across the River

written by Jack Eckhart

We wade across the crowded Ponte Vecchio, trying to stay out of tourists’ photographs and dodge street vendors hawking odd toys. Finally crossing, the crowd slowly fades as we venture up a steep hill toward Piazzale Michelangelo. Each step we take provides reprieve from the fast-paced Florence I spend most of my days.

As I continue climbing, nature begins to emerge quietly reasserting its dominance on the land it once controlled. Soggy leaves cover a winding cobblestone road. On each side of the street walls provide homes an additional layer of security from the city. Muffled thumps echo down the road out of my Onitsuka Tigers as I get more lost in the hills. With no end in sight I keep moving forward allowing the road to control my fate.

Eventually the soft hum of cars slowly became less and less faint, as I’m dumped out of my peaceful sanctuary onto a busy road. Following the cars deeper into the hills, I throw my headphones in, drowning out the noise.

Looking out I can see fragments of the city around tree branches and in between homes, never seeing the entire city. Each glimpse reminds me of the overwhelming beauty possessed by the city.

When I finally reach a small overlook with nothing marked, nothing out of the ordinary, I stop. Below me, Florence splinters into terracotta rooftops and thin smoke rises from chimneys, the Arno a silver ribbon threading everything together. It isn’t the grand view tourists climb for, but it feels earned, like a secret the city didn’t mind giving up today.

I stand there longer than I planned, letting the wind tug at my jacket, and the city settle into its tiny compartments below. And as I turn back toward the road, toward the descent I know is coming, I realize this is the part of Florence I’m always searching for: the quiet in-between, the spaces where the city finally lets me breathe.

The Beating Heart Above Florence

A place where sunsets, cameras and people meet to be present

written by Maëlys Brunet

As the city slowly changes from season to season, we are constantly reminded of Piazzale Michelangelo as the beating heart of Florence. Especially during the summer months. The Piazzale remains alive through both tourists and locals, particularly at sunset, as wanderers gather on the steps with a simple glass of wine to listen to a band’s music or take pictures as a souvenir of the moment, as time pauses, just for a moment. This Florence phenomenon stirs curiosity about the aura the city holds in people’s hearts, a current that pulses through and unites communities.

Piazzale Michelangelo seems nowadays as a rite of passage, a go-to place when visiting Florence to admire the city’s iconic skyline. But what about its history? Built in 1869 by Giuseppe Poggi, it was originally meant to just be a terrace, celebrating Michelangelo’s art. A representation of progress, but also modernity and the future, as Florence was the capital of Italy during that time. Nowadays, we see Piazzale Michelangelo as a place to slow down, reconnect to the beauty of the city, with a crowd to accompany us into this poetic journey.

The typical route to Piazzale Michelangelo is just as memorable as the view itself. Beginning from the tower of San Niccolò, take the ascending stairs and path between the large trees. The climb begins as we slowly rise above the city of Florence, in anticipation of the view that awaits, as if leading towards something sacred. Then, the main terrace appears, the crowd gets denser, and the city spreads below. In the golden hour of the evening, music plays in the background and people dance to its infectious beat. Monuments wear orange and yellow as the sun begins to set, offering the perfect moment for multiple photoshoots to spontaneously appear. Phones and digital cameras alike click with the same rhythm as conversation or laughs.

Piazzale Michelangelo is the place where multiple generations meet to capture the essence of Florence. As a guitarist tunes his strings, he shares that although the people there always change, the sunset and view remain a constant. There is poetry when we stare at the landscape, thinking it was approximately the same view as the one our ancestors looked out at centuries ago. People at first come for a simple view, then leave with memories, connections and hearts filled with emotion. Here the sunset isn’t edited, it is put on display, shown in its raw form to its audience.

Looking away from the view and back towards the crowd, students share a bottle of wine, while pizzas are eaten by a family visiting from abroad. All the while, social media enthusiasts are trying to capture the perfect shot. A couple stairs down, people listen to music, dance to the rhythm of guitars and saxophones, and cheers can be heard for a couple that just got engaged. This place holds authentic moments of life and connection that will never be forgotten.

As night approaches, some remain while others venture further, all the way to San Miniato al Monte – a hidden place above Piazzale Michelangelo – to admire the city from a similar perspective. Apart from the overwhelming crowd and movement, you find peace and quietness, almost like coming out of a dream. Two different atmospheres but only a single feeling remains unchanged: reassurance and interaction.

In those small interactions, it is where Piazzale Michelangelo holds its core, being something rare and precious to keep hold of. A moment apart from digital, inviting those that gather to be there mentally, with your own thoughts, to live in the moment rather than posting it. The space gathers both past and present. Life and art coexist around a skyline view, with a community to share the same moment with, just for a couple of minutes… or even a couple of hours.

In an age of constant digital scrolling, Piazzale Michelangelo remains a symbol of the contrary. Not every view needs to be shared or posted on social media, as it must be experienced and lived through the senses and presence of people around us. The difference lies in the fact that the beauty of the square can be shared through both photos and memory, however those emotions we feel when in its presence, cannot be replicated on the digital screen.

When we look at Piazzale Michelangelo, we can see its beauty in the different communities it brings together. Some live in the moment, as a break, an aside, a moment apart from the fast pace of life. We take this moment to slow down, take a step back, and enjoy the present moment with friends, family, or alone. Others may take advantage of the moment by capturing a memory, particularly through digital means, engaging in an online community.

Piazzale Michelangelo explores the possibilities and redefines the opportunity to come together as a community, whether in-person or virtually. This place in Florence demonstrates a new perception of what a community can be, beyond what we are used to seeing, while continuing on the same path of harmony and the search for unforgettable moments.

The Rebirthed Art of “La Vita Lenta”

Journaling: The Personal and Authentic Form of Memory

written by Liana Torres, Heather Collins & Lydia Turner

In an age where our thumbs type faster than our thoughts, the digital world feels impossible to escape. Our devices allow us to easily type reminders, organize assignments, jot down school notes, or record fleeting thoughts within seconds. Walking into a library, classroom, or café in Florence, you will often see people with iPhones in their hands, computers on their laps, and the rhythmic tapping of keyboards as they urgently take notes and revise them in record time. It’s a convenience that may seem luxurious, but people are craving originality due to the loss of creative media. It’s efficient, but detached.

A new wave of creatives, travelers, and locals in Florence is embracing a slower, more tactile ritual: taking pen to paper. Here in Italy, where beauty can be found in imperfection and time is slowed down, journaling has taken on a deeper meaning. Writing by hand anchors you in the moment, making it a physical craft that demands presence and meaningful thought.

Journaling is an extremely personal experience; a leather-bound notebook isn’t just stationery it’s an accessory, an extension of personal style. The marbled paper, the smooth pen, the color of ink chosen, every detail becomes a reflection of self. In a city renowned for its craftsmanship, from leather bags to jewelry, the journal joins the wardrobe of self-expression. To open it is to reveal not curated perfection, but raw honest thought. The choice of the journal’s cover is unique and tailored to the user’s taste, often serving as a fashion accessory. Residents and visitors alike are slowing down, mirroring the ancient streets and buildings around them, translating their experiences through ink rather than a screen.

Florence itself feels designed for reflection. The view from the rose garden at sunset, views of the Duomo, the echo of footsteps on cobblestones, and the scent of paper and ink from small workshops all invite slowness. To sit with a notebook in a Florentine café isn’t merely to write, it’s to participate in a centuries-old dialogue between beauty, and thought. The act of journaling becomes a quiet rebellion against the speed of modern life, reconnection with presence.

Psychological studies have shown that handwriting engages more areas of the brain than typing does. When the hand forms letters on paper, neural pathways responsible for memory, comprehension, and creativity become activated. Writing slows down the mind and creates deeper reflection, forming strong connections between thought, language, and page. One must think before they write, as each sentence becomes more meaningful when it cannot be easily erased. There’s something deeply human about seeing one’s thoughts take shape, imperfect and unfiltered. Typing on a computer removes the permanence, thoughtfulness, and focus that handwriting naturally gives. It is nostalgic, but also a neurological discipline. Our engagement with what we are learning, feeling, and experiencing is deepened.

Journaling is an art form in Florence. In local markets and small boutiques, hand-stitched leather notebooks and marbled papers are commonly found authentic, high-quality stationery. They signify Italy’s value for craftsmanship, and in Florence, the art of leatherwork. These boutiques also draw consumers into the old, analog world by offering products such as wax seals, personalized notecards, and fountain pens. Each item tells a story, not only of Italian craftsmanship, but of the person who chooses it.

Tourists, visitors, and students of Italy often feel compelled to document their experiences here in an honest and authentic way. Instead of simply snapping photos on their phones, many sketch their surroundings or write about their emotions in the moment, carrying their journals as if they were passports.

The Italian way of life, la vita lenta, is a philosophy of taking it easy and living in the moment. It embraces the rhythm of slowness and authenticity, valuing conversation, artistry, and the transformation of life’s seemingly mundane moments into something meaningful: a shot of espresso made by a local barista, a handwritten letter or postcard, or a leather journal carefully crafted by an Italian artisan. People can truly reflect rather than quickly react on their phones.

Journaling allows for the documentation of lived experiences; it’s a way to highlight valuable memories and live through physical paper instead of a screen. Imperfection is welcomed, and the texture of the paper carries the rawness and realness of each written experience. It is more sacred. In Florence, handwriting isn’t about rejecting technology, it’s about reclaiming something real. Paper invites you to be unfiltered, unedited, and utterly yourself.

A “Carless” Chronicle: What I Learned Trading My Keys For a Passport

written by Logan Grigsby

At first, I was nervous about trading my sedentary, car-dependent life for the walkable streets of Florence. I was nervous about getting lost, accidentally walking into the “bad side of town,” or simply not being able to physically walk that far. However, walking in Florence led me on a journey of self-discovery, connection, and helped transform me physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

In my hometown of Kansas City, going just about anywhere meant getting in the car; heck, I couldn’t even take my own dog on a walk without driving somewhere! My lifestyle was very sedentary most days; I would only walk a couple of thousand steps. I felt unhealthy, and walking more than a few blocks felt foreign to me. However, I knew even before I arrived in Florence that I wanted to trade my car keys for a passport and a nice pair of shoes. I knew I wanted to explore the city, and I knew I wanted to be healthier and happier. I never could have imagined the transformation that was in store for me, physically, emotionally, and even spiritually, and the love I would gain for Florence. This is my journey on how simply walking has changed my perspective and my life.

As I mentioned before, I was in pretty rough shape. I didn’t exercise, I didn’t go to the gym, and I was considered by most to be a “couch potato” stuck in a constant loop of getting out of school, plopping on the couch, and doom scrolling TikTok or Instagram for hours, never seeing the beauty in front of me.

My journey started small. Let me tell you, the first week was a challenge. We had a heat wave, and my body was just not used to walking around. At first, my body screamed when I had to walk across town for class, and don’t even get me started on the hills… Although, as time went on, I started shedding off fat, and the steps got easier as every day went by. At first, I struggled to hit seven thousand steps. I soon found I was disappointed in myself if I got anything less than fifteen thousand.

I remember my first week here attempting to make the trek up to Piazzale Michelangelo; A wonderful square with a beautiful look over the city. It was not the easiest hike. I remember having to stop and take breaks constantly. I drank nearly a gallon of water and I genuinely thought my body would give up on me. I decided to retake that journey during my final week in Florence, and not only did I not need any breaks, but I also found I was genuinely enjoying my journey up the hill!

A healthier lifestyle isn’t all that I found; the true magic of a walkable city isn’t the exercise, but it’s the hidden treasures you find along the way. Things you wouldn’t bat an eye at if you were driving in a car. Wandering aimlessly through the city quickly became a favorite pastime of mine. I didn’t know where I was going, but every day I would pick a new direction and set off. This led to some genuinely life-changing experiences.

During my first week, I found what I assumed was a small, unassuming bookstore. I honestly went in for the air conditioning; however, it turned out to be the legendary “Giunti Odeon,” a library and cinema, and what many locals have told me is one of their favorite places in the city. This quickly became one of my favorite spots to study, hang out, or just relax and watch a movie.

Then, one day while walking along the river, I stumbled upon “The Ultravox,” a truly unique outdoor event space that regularly hosts free concerts and offers a vast array of food options. I must admit, I fell in love.

One of my more memorable experiences was discovering “The Havana Club,” a small area on the river that the Cuban embassy officially recognizes for showcasing their culture in Florence. This is a place where I truly connected with the area and grew culturally. I remember walking up to the sand volleyball court quite nervous and sheepishly asking if I could join in, and before long, I had made a group of friends with local Florentines! They would eventually convince me to take to the dance floor, something I never considered, as I always thought that I had “two left feet.” I was so anxious, I thought I was going to throw up, but surrounded by people with positive attitudes and energy, I quickly found myself learning to Salsa dance. Who would have thought that I would learn to Salsa in Florence, of all places.

Of all the things I have done, if I hadn’t decided to just go on a walk, I would have never had these amazing experiences.

My walks have allowed me to truly appreciate the art and history of the city, which permeates it. My first time walking into Piazza della Signoria, I honestly was at a loss for words. Surrounded by breathtaking architecture, beyond lifelike statues, I have never experienced anything like that, and it will forever be a memory in my mind. Back home, I felt like I never took the time to “stop and smell the roses,” and appreciate the beauty surrounding me; however, in Florence, it is unavoidable.

My appreciation for Florence extends beyond the architecture, though. What truly makes Florence so special is the people who make up the city. Every day I see something new and special, from seeing artists freehand the Mona Lisa on the street with chalk, to guitars and accordions filling the streets with sound, to my first experience with Opera music on the front steps of the Duomo, the melodies of this city have filled my heart and soul.

My most spiritual moment came from walking down the street and discovering a small church on the street corner where I saw locals walking in and out of. I don’t usually consider myself a religious person, but something drew me to it, and I decided I needed to walk in and see the building for myself. It was quiet, it felt holy, but it also felt warm and welcoming. Before coming to Florence, I attended the funeral of a friend near and dear to me and was still struggling a bit with the loss, so I decided to do something I haven’t done in a very long time: I sat and I prayed. I talked to my friend who left too early, I spoke to my family who left this earth too early, and I sat and I prayed. This was a tremendously difficult moment for me, but I honestly felt a weight off my shoulders, and I felt a connection I hadn’t felt in a long time. I honestly felt like a changed person.

My time in Florence has taught me so much. At first, I thought getting more steps in would at best help me lose some weight and breathe a little deeper, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. It builds a sense of community and connection. I love running into my flatmates or classroom friends that I have made here, who may also just be aimlessly walking around, an experience that never happens back home. Trading my keys for a passport was a nerve-wrecking experience at first, but I now know it’s one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. It forced me to slow down, to pay attention, and engage in my new home. I’m not just living in Florence, I am discovering it one step at a time. This experience has changed my body, my heart, my mind, and my soul in the best way possible. I will forever be grateful for my experience here.

A Guided Journey Through the City’s Creative Underground

written by Alison Sweeney

This blog feature is an exclusive bonus installment to our Spring issue of Blending Magazine. After you finish reading, be sure to explore the rest of the magazine online—just follow this link to download the full Spring 2025 edition:
https://jschoolfua.com/images/BM/BM_151.pdf

From literary cafes to rebellious music movements, uncover the lesser-known artistic history behind some of Florence’s modern-day cultural hot spots.

Florence’s Underground Artistic and Creative Scene

Though Florence is known for its Renaissance art, grand architecture, and famous landmarks, the city has a hidden artistic scene that offers a different kind of cultural perspective and experience. While many of the venues that once hosted this creative underground scene have become more commercial over time, their roots tell hidden stories of rebellion, reinvention, and the key to discovering true Italian culture. This travel guide invites you to step into Florence’s underground, not just physically but historically, creatively, and culturally.

Caffé Giubbe Rosse: A Literary Revolution is Brewed

Start your journey at one of the most famous historic literary cafes in Florence, Caffé Giubbe Rosse, where famous poets and writers sat to scribe and exchange radical ideas. According to the article, “Grand Re-opening of Caffé Giubbe Rosse” by Accord Italy Smart Tours, Caffé Giubbe Rosse is located in the Piazza della Republica and was established in 1896 by two German brothers. The cafe earned its current name, meaning Red Jackets, because it was inspired by the red uniform worn by the waiters.

Caffé Guibbe Rosse grew to become a hub for intellectuals, artists, and writers. The cafe played a pivotal role in the Futurist movement and served as a gathering place for avant-garde thinkers like Baccio Maria Bacci, who looked to challenge traditional artistic roles.

Today, visitors can still visit the cafe and bar to experience the Italian cultural experience and legacy, where you can find some original Futurist writings still on display!

Teatro Verdi: Reinventing the Stage

Next, step into the dimly lit Teatro Verdi of the 1980s, where the stage is filled with redefined Italian performance and shortly became a prestigious turnpoint in the uprise of the futurist avant-garde movement. Teatro Verdi transformed into a space for the most sophisticated pop and rock music and for unconventional drama.

According to the Teatro Verdi website, the theater was inaugurated in 1854 and is the largest “Italian-style” theatre in Tuscany. Located in the historic Santa Croce district, it was built on the remnants of the 14th-century Carcere delle Stinche. In the early 20th century, the theater embraced the futurist avant-garde movement, which challenged traditional theatrical norms. These weren’t just performances but protests, celebrations of youth, and identity in a space of avant-garde reinvention.

Today, Teatro Verdi remains a diverse cultural venue, offering classical music, contemporary performances, and pop and rock concerts, reflecting the artistic landscape Florence has to offer.

Tenax: A Hub for Florence’s New Wave Movement

Last but not least, explore one of the music venues that fueled the cities’ New Wave movement in the 1980s, Tenax. Tenax quickly emerged as a hub for new artists and musicians by influential New Wave and post-punk bands and today remains a symbol of Florence’s alternative music history. Picture this: it’s September 1981, and amid Florence’s enthusiasm for new wave, dark, and punk sounds from the UK, Tenax emerges as a pioneering nightclub. According to the Tenax website, the club was founded by a group of young entrepreneurs and quickly became an innovative and alternative hub for emerging artists, fashion designers, and musicians. Tenax’s stage has hosted an impressive number of acts, including Spandau Ballet, Bauhaus, and New Order, becoming a cornerstone of Italy’s music scene. Bands like Litfibia and Neon, formed in Florence in 1979, found a platform at Tenax for their innovative sounds.

As the music landscape evolved, Tenax adapted and began to embrace other genres like house music. The club’s ability to reinvent itself while maintaining its core identity has ensured a lasting influence on Florence’s cultural aspect.

All of these examples of Florence’s underground cultural scene offer a rich and nuanced perspective of the city’s artistic evolution. These places, now more visible, carry with them the same legacy of those underground revolutions. So, next time you find yourself in this beautiful and magnificent city, look closer. Look beyond the espresso machines, beneath the stage lights, and in the echoes and flashing lights, and maybe you’ll find the story of a city whose past reflects a magnificent creative rebellion.

Florence Korea Film Festival 2025: Cross-Cultural Shock

written by Megan Cuviello & Ashlyn Loper

Since the 1980s, Florence has been an epicenter for art and has cultivated a space for individuals to express themselves. With the rebellious spirit of the city, fostering spaces for punk, street and alternative artwork and design, it’s no secret that the city has allowed for the culture within the city walls to flourish. This includes one notable place in Florence, Cinema La Compagnia. Cinema La Compagnia is a cultural venue located in the heart of Florence. The cinema opened in 1921 and was originally called Cinema Modernissimo. Then, between the years 1984 and 1987, it was transformed into the Teatro della Compagnia and eventually came to be what it is today. Cinema La Compagnia is a place where many film festivals and cultural festivals are held, making it the epicenter to showcase the art and talent of different cultures within the city of Florence.

The Florence Korea Film Festival 2025 was held at Cinema La Compagnia in Spring, 2025. It was a ten-day affair to showcase the different types of South Korean films, such as historical films, documentaries, short films, and many more of the South Korean culture. It showcased many independent films and filmmakers and allowed time for audience interaction with the filmmakers. This film festival has been held in Florence over the past two decades, and people from all over Europe, the United States and all over the world come to see the culture displayed at the Cinema La Compagnia through the Florence Korea Film Festival.

Throughout the ten-day festival, we were able to attend multiple times to engage with individuals from all walks of life. On our first trip to the festival, we were introduced to the Florence Korean Film Festival Management Coordinator, Caterina Migliarini. We got to visit with Migliarini as she gave us an in-depth look into the festival while also introducing us to some of the history of Cinema La Compagnia. Migliarini stated, “People from all over come to the Cinema to see the Florence Korean Film Festival. People from Estonia, the Czech Republic and even India,” showing the cultural diversity that is welcomed into spaces of this nature. Migliarini also stated, “The beauty of the cinema is not just for the younger generation – it is for the elders and older generations.” This sparked conversation within our group as we reflected on the generations that had walked through Cinema La Compagnia at different times in history. Migliarini shared that it is one of her favorite places, if not her favorite place, in all of Florence, as she lives just down the street. Migliarini continued to share about how “the Cinema brings in Korean culture to other places” and the connections Cinema La Compagnia has with various universities, such as the European University Institute and also our very own FUA & AUF campus.

On our next trip to the Cinema La Compagnia and the Florence Korean Film Festival, we were able to attend a masterclass led by famous director Na Hong-jin. This South Korean film director was debuting his new film “The Wailing”. During this masterclass, we were able to learn more about his film detailing a Japanese man’s arrival in a small community. Through the masterclass, Hong-Jin’s passion for his work truly shone and allowed everyone in the room to grasp his concept. This also shed light on the true meaning of the independent film and allowed for a deeper understanding and appreciation that goes into all of the films shown in the festival.

Overall, the Florence Korea Film Festival at Cinema La Compagnia has opened its doors to a wide array of individuals and the artistry behind the independent films shown. While this film festival is just one effort in the continuance of the rich cultural heritage behind Cinema La Compagnia, it is also one of the many pieces to Florence’s cultural preservation and cross-cultural engagement. Everyone should take the opportunity to continue to support local and independent filmmakers, along with exploring the Florence Korea Film Festival for the 24th annual exhibition in 2026.

Travel Fatigue: The Day Trip For When You Need A Break From Day Trips

written by Hannah Johndrow for SPEL Public Relations

Because my study abroad term was only six weeks long, I packed in a lot of travel into such a short period of time. I didn’t know anybody else going abroad with me, so I didn’t plan any trips in advance as some other students do. I was initially worried that I wouldn’t be able to travel much on the weekends, or that I wouldn’t have anybody to go with.

I got along very well with my roommates, so we established a sort of unspoken travel group among the three of us. We were bad at planning ahead, so almost every trip we took was booked at the very last second. While I’m not here to recommend following our lead in that respect, I did take the time to compile an itinerary for one of my favorite day trips that I took during my time here in Florence. The constant travel on the weekends most definitely catches up to you, so this is the perfect day trip for when you just need a break from traveling, but still want to explore Italy!

Travel Tip

First of all, a quick disclaimer before we get into the full story. I’d like to share some advice for traveling in Italy! When traveling by bus or train, it is really important to understand their ticket validation system. This was a major culture shock for me. In the U.S., I’ve always bought my bus and train tickets on my phone, then was good to go. In Italy, however, many tickets require validation. There is often a machine outside of the bus/train station, or it may be on the actual bus/train.

It is extremely important that you validate your tickets, because they are not viewed as being valid tickets until they are officially validated (typically the machine will leave a stamp on your ticket with the time and date of validation). I learned this the hard way when I purchased a bus ticket but didn’t understand that I had to validate it. Within thirty seconds of getting on the bus, a ticket officer came up to me and asked to see the ticket, which he refused to accept as valid because I had not validated it. I was fined forty euro! So, beware of this important cultural difference.

The Elsa River Park

My favorite day trip was to the Elsa river, which is only an hour drive from Florence. The entrance to the river is called “Parco fluviale dell’Elsa o Sentier Elsa” on Apple Maps (which translates to “Elsa River Park”). While my friends and I drove there, there is a bus that takes you directly from Florence to the entrance of the park! I would suggest Google or Apple Maps to determine the quickest bus route.

What to pack:

● Swimsuit

● Towel (to dry off, and to sit on)

● Snacks

● Water bottle

● A camera (you’ll want to take pictures of the gorgeous turquoise water!)

I’d recommend leaving earlier in the morning so that you can have the whole day ahead of you (this goes for any day trip). It’s nice to get there before the crowds too. Once you get to the entrance of the park, there is a trail alongside the river. It was crowded the day I went because it was so hot, but we walked down the trail until we found an open spot to sit! Just walk the trail until you find a good spot. It’s nice to get there around lunchtime so you can sit down, eat, and then relax by the water for the rest of the day. I spent the whole day here when I went. I’d just gotten back from a day trip the day before and felt like I needed a more relaxing day, but I didn’t want to sit around either. This trip was perfect because I was able to explore a new place, and relax.

So, if you’re currently studying abroad at FUA, I hope you decide to explore this hidden gem! It’s the perfect escape from the Summer heat, and is off the beaten path of touristy spots.

From Coffee to Espresso & a Few Other Changes

written by Charlotte Cicero for SPEL Journalism

Ciao, my name is Charlotte Cicero. I’m a junior at the University of Missouri, and I had the privilege of studying abroad at FUA this past spring semester. For the past 15 weeks, I’ve been writing for the website you’re currently reading, and for Blending Magazine.

When I wrote my first blog post in January, I threw a corny title on what was pretty much a journal entry. For this final piece, without a corny title and with more structure and a little more wisdom, I want to reflect on some parts of that original post. So here we go.

“I’ve lived in Florence for a little over two weeks now. The adjustment has not been easy, and I think I’m still shocked that I’m finally living this dream that has just felt like some faraway plan for many, many years.”

Now I’ve lived in Florence for nearly four months. I’m not ‘shocked’ anymore, but instead in a constant state of wonder, curiosity, and awe of how much beauty I’ve witnessed in such a short time.

“This transition to Florence feels nothing like my transition to college. I’m still trying to decide if that’s a good thing, and I’m hoping it is. This transition feels almost unreal like I am still in the process of, well, processing.”

It turned out to be a great thing – change is supposed to feel like change. I’ve learned that new and different things create new and different comfort zones. At first, I felt behind my friends, like I was late to have the moment of “I’m really doing it! I’m finding myself in my twenties in Europe!” moment. But instead, I got to experience a buildup of little moments that over time made me realize that I was in my twenties, I was in Europe, and I was on the journey of finding myself.

“I walk the same streets every day. I can get to the store, the city center, and all my classes without Google Maps. I feel lucky that these streets feel so safe and familiar, but sadly, not like home. Not yet, at least.”

I still walk most of the same streets. But now I play around with different routes, knowing that if I make it to the city center, I’ll always find my way back.

The streets feel safe, and familiar, and they finally feel like home. I walk down my street and wave to Matteo and Alessio, who work at the Virgin Rock Pub. I wave at the owners of Cucina di Ghianda, the restaurant next to our apartment. I high-fived Muhammad, who owns the convenience store next door. They all say “Ciao, Charlotte!”. I don’t know them all that well, but seeing them every day reminds me of the quiet power of human connection and community.

“There’s something special about talking to the same employee at the coffee shop on your street every morning, sipping your espresso (that you’re still getting used to) as you muster up the courage to practice the new word you learned on Duolingo the previous night.”

That person became Sergio at Santa Croce Champagneria, right across from FUA. I introduced myself to Sergio before my first day of FUA orientation, poorly attempting to speak Italian and unaware that he’d remember my name. I’d get my homework done there and spend every in-class break grabbing another espresso (which I’m very used to by now). No comment on my Duolingo streak.

“I think what we all need to remember is to stop moving for a second. Breathe. Look at the Duomo and just breathe. Look at the dark green window panes on the top floor of every street and breathe. Before going out with your friends on ‘Space Wednesday,’ breathe. Staying present is the only way to appreciate what a gift this moment is, right? Because we don’t even have any idea just how good this is all going to get.”

Note to January Charlotte: this paragraph needed workshopping, but I’ll forgive it. Deep breaths are in fact important! I paused to breathe in moments I knew were becoming memories. Like the time I was in Orvieto, having a coffee and journaling, and the man I’d shared a train row with walked by. I wrote in my journal: “A sweet elderly man in a yellow raincoat just walked by with his little dog.” I smiled at him, but he didn’t see me. Every time I think of that memory, I tear up. Not because it was emotional, but because it was ordinary.

“I’ll see you at the end of the semester.”

Well, it’s the end of the semester. I’ve seen so many beautiful places, things, and works of art. I’ve seen life shift and stretch and swell with beauty, and met so many beautiful people.

I can’t wait to reread this in six months, just like I’m rereading that first blog post now, knowing I had no idea how good it was all going to get.

So, here’s my last reflection: Keep walking new streets, even if you’re scared to get lost. Keep saying “Ciao” to strangers, even if you’re not sure they’ll remember you. Someday, you’ll look back and realize it was never ordinary at all.

I’ll see you. Don’t stop traveling and live your life curiously. And never stop letting the world surprise you.