I am a big fan of Benvenuto Cellini’s. Okay, maybe it sounds a little strange to say that, at this end of time: but the man’s personality is an endless fascination to me. He was an exquisitely talented painter and sculptor who worked for popes and kings, a contemporary and acquaintance of Michaelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci; an incorrigibly opinionated boaster, duelist and brawler, an occasional jailbreaker (for that fast mouth of his got him in trouble more than once), and an indefatigable self-promoter and traveling PR show, with an ego the size of the planet. He wrought as he lived, hugely. And one of the most magnificent things he ever made was a salt-cellar, a saliera.
…it was oval in form, standing about two-thirds of a cubit, wrought of solid gold, and worked entirely with the chisel. While speaking of the model, I said before how I had represented Sea and Earth, seated, with their legs interlaced, as we observe in the case of firths and promontories; this attitude was therefore metaphorically appropriate. The Sea carried a trident in his right hand, and in his left I put a ship of delicate workmanship to hold the salt. Below him were his four sea-horses, fashioned like our horses from the head to the front hoofs; all the rest of their body, from the middle backwards, resembled a fish, and the tails of these creatures were agreeably inter-woven. Above this group the Sea sat throned in an attitude of pride and dignity; around him were many kinds of fishes and other creatures of the ocean. The water was represented with its waves, and enamelled in the appropriate colour. I had portrayed Earth under the form of a very handsome woman, holding her horn of plenty, entirely nude like the male figure; in her left hand I placed a little temple of Ionic architecture, most delicately wrought, which was meant to contain the pepper. Beneath her were the handsomest living creatures which the earth produces; and the rocks were partly enamelled, partly left in gold. The whole piece reposed upon a base of ebony, properly proportioned, but with a projecting cornice, upon which I introduced four golden figures in rather more than half-relief. They represented Night, Day, Twilight, and Dawn. I put, moreover, into the same frieze four other figures, similar in size, and intended for the four chief winds; these were executed, and in part enamelled, with the most exquisite refinement.
And for once he’s not bragging too much about the beauty of the piece. …So I was very, very annoyed when the Saliera was stolen in from its museum-home in Vienna in 2003.
But they got it back in January!! I had no idea.
And today the thief was sentenced. (Or in this case maybe “artnapper” is a better word: the guy decided he would return the piece after a ransom was paid.) He’s claiming the theft was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I’m not entirely convinced.
The funny thing is that he got caught by sending one SMS too many.
[tags]Cellini, saliera, salt cellar, saltcellar[/tags]
The Museum is a refurbishment of the original Foynes Flying Boat Base terminal building, where all transatlantic air traffic of the late 1930’s stopped on its way elsewhere. (If Rick Blaine flew from New York to 
passenger air route starting in June 1939. It was quite a plane — a multiple-level vessel with cabins, sleeping berths, reading room, dining room, and lounge, and a flight deck that was big enough to actually be called a deck. (See 
