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| A medieval town & its secret passageways |
by Summer Clowers, ARCA 2013
WARNING: this essay is a work of
satire. It is best understood when read in the haughty voice of the Dowager Countess of Grantham, from Downton Abbey.
As
an ARCA alumna, I have come to warn you about all of the things that you will
hate about this small program on art crime. With that in mind, I here offer a
list of the woes of living in a small Umbrian town the likes of which will keep
you up at night as you scroll through old Facebook photos. A hue and cry, as it were, to any prospective ARCA-ites.
Should you choose to ignore my advice, I cannot be responsible for the
consequences.
Your
first few days in Amelia will leave you with an intense urge to explore and
make friends. The town is ancient,
surrounded on most sides by a Neolithic wall, and even more ancient history buried
beneath it. There are secret
passages and hidden rooms and you will want to grab a new-found "buddy" as the Americans are saying and sneak through every one of them.
DON’T. The more you
explore, the more you will love the town, and it will make it all that much harder
to leave. Yes, there is a secret
Roman cellar underneath one of the restaurants. No, I will not tell you which one. Yes, the town’s people do scatter the roads with rose petals in the
shape of angels every June. No, pictures do not do it justice. Yes,
there quite possibly is a hidden room in your classmate's flat. All of these things are beside the
point. Walk steadily on the path and
avoid all temptations to adventure.
As
for friends, stick with those gentle people that live near to you back in the real
world. I know Papa di Stefano is
fantastic, and yes, he will befriend you in a way that transcends language, but
do you really want to miss him when you’ve gone? And your fellow students? Well, most of them are going to
live nowhere near you. Who needs to have contacts in Lisbon and Melbourne and New York and Amsterdam? Certainly not you. No, you don’t. It’s so damp in the Netherlands and we
all know London is just atrocious.
I mean really, all those people. I do try to stay out of the south. Take my advice, ignore anyone that lives far from you. You are here to learn and leave, not
make connections that will last you the rest of forever.
You
will also want to be wary of the town’s locals.
Amelia is tiny, so getting to know most of its shopkeepers and inhabitants
will not be very hard, but you must resist the urge to do so as it is deeply improper to fraternize with the proletariat. It is true that Fabio will know your
coffee order before you get fully through his door, and the Count will open his
home with a smile to show you around his gorgeous palazzo, but these things are
not proper. Do not mistake their
overflowing kindness and warmth for anything other than good breeding. And when you find yourself sobbing at
the thought of saying goodbye to Monica, you can just blame your tears on the
pollen like the rest of us.
Your instructors are going to be just as big of a challenge. The professor’s are really too friendly. I know that Noah Charney says that he’s available for lunch and Dick Ellis will happily have a beer with you, but is getting to know your mentor's socially, really appropriate? I mean, we’ve all attended seminars where you barely see the speaker outside of stolen moments during coffee breaks, and that’s the best way for things to go, isn’t it? Sterile classroom experience with little to no professorial interactions has been the way of academia for generations. I know I never saw any of my professor’s outside of class. And I certainly don’t keep up with Judge Tompkin’s travels through his hilarious emails; that would just be gauche.
And then there’s the conference. It lasts an entire weekend. Why would I want to attend a weekend long event where powerhouses in the field open up their brains for plebeians? I mean honestly, meeting Christos Tsirogiannis at the conference will be a high point in your year, and it will be too difficult to control your nerdy spasms when Toby Bull sits down next to you at dinner. And then, when you find out that Christos joined ARCA's teaching team in 2014, you’ll find yourself scrambling to come up with a way to take the program a second time just so you can pick his brain. Think about how much work that will be. This should be like the grand tour, a comfortable time away from home so that you can tell others that you simply summered in Italy.
And the program would be so much better served in Rome. I mean, just think on it. You would never have to learn Italian, because you’d be in a city full of tourists. You’d get to pay twice as much for an apartment a third of the size of the one you rent in Amelia, and you wouldn’t have to live near any of your class mates. A city the size of Rome is big enough that a half hour metro ride to each other’s places would be pretty much de rigueur. This means you wouldn’t have to deal with any of those impromptu dinner/study sessions at the pool house. And there certainly wouldn’t be random class-wide wine tastings at the Palazzo Venturelli. It's too much socializing anyway. It really is unseemly.
And finally, let’s talk about the classes. Do we really care about art crime? Sure, Dick Drent is pretty much the coolest human you’ll ever meet, and Dorit Straus somehow manages to make art insurance interesting, but really, do you care? Isn’t that better left to one’s financial advisor? And the secret porchetta truck that the interns will show you as you study the intricacies of art law, could surely be found on one’s own. Couldn’t it? I think we would all be much better served by just watching that Monuments Men movie, fawning over George Clooney and Matt Damon, and thinking about the things we could be doing all from the safety and comfort of our own homes. I do so hate leaving home. The ARCA program involves work, and ten courses with ten different professors, and classmates that will quickly become family. It’s all so exhausting. I mean really, tell me, does this sound like the program for you?
ARCA Editorial Note: If you would like more information on ARCA's Postgraduate Certificate Program, please write to us at: education (at) artcrimeresearch.org
We will put you on the list to receive application materials when the 2018 application period opens in Autumn 2017.
Your instructors are going to be just as big of a challenge. The professor’s are really too friendly. I know that Noah Charney says that he’s available for lunch and Dick Ellis will happily have a beer with you, but is getting to know your mentor's socially, really appropriate? I mean, we’ve all attended seminars where you barely see the speaker outside of stolen moments during coffee breaks, and that’s the best way for things to go, isn’t it? Sterile classroom experience with little to no professorial interactions has been the way of academia for generations. I know I never saw any of my professor’s outside of class. And I certainly don’t keep up with Judge Tompkin’s travels through his hilarious emails; that would just be gauche.
And then there’s the conference. It lasts an entire weekend. Why would I want to attend a weekend long event where powerhouses in the field open up their brains for plebeians? I mean honestly, meeting Christos Tsirogiannis at the conference will be a high point in your year, and it will be too difficult to control your nerdy spasms when Toby Bull sits down next to you at dinner. And then, when you find out that Christos joined ARCA's teaching team in 2014, you’ll find yourself scrambling to come up with a way to take the program a second time just so you can pick his brain. Think about how much work that will be. This should be like the grand tour, a comfortable time away from home so that you can tell others that you simply summered in Italy.
And the program would be so much better served in Rome. I mean, just think on it. You would never have to learn Italian, because you’d be in a city full of tourists. You’d get to pay twice as much for an apartment a third of the size of the one you rent in Amelia, and you wouldn’t have to live near any of your class mates. A city the size of Rome is big enough that a half hour metro ride to each other’s places would be pretty much de rigueur. This means you wouldn’t have to deal with any of those impromptu dinner/study sessions at the pool house. And there certainly wouldn’t be random class-wide wine tastings at the Palazzo Venturelli. It's too much socializing anyway. It really is unseemly.
And finally, let’s talk about the classes. Do we really care about art crime? Sure, Dick Drent is pretty much the coolest human you’ll ever meet, and Dorit Straus somehow manages to make art insurance interesting, but really, do you care? Isn’t that better left to one’s financial advisor? And the secret porchetta truck that the interns will show you as you study the intricacies of art law, could surely be found on one’s own. Couldn’t it? I think we would all be much better served by just watching that Monuments Men movie, fawning over George Clooney and Matt Damon, and thinking about the things we could be doing all from the safety and comfort of our own homes. I do so hate leaving home. The ARCA program involves work, and ten courses with ten different professors, and classmates that will quickly become family. It’s all so exhausting. I mean really, tell me, does this sound like the program for you?
ARCA Editorial Note: If you would like more information on ARCA's Postgraduate Certificate Program, please write to us at: education (at) artcrimeresearch.org
We will put you on the list to receive application materials when the 2018 application period opens in Autumn 2017.
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