The Timeless Rhythms of the Heavens

A European (skull) mount of a buck,
 recalling the Buck Moon and the
ancient symbolism of renewal

Udremo a notte le sue lunghe muggia, udremo la voce sua di toro;
sorgerà il grido della sua lussuria
udremo nei silenzi della luna.

At night we will hear his long bellows, we will hear his voice like a bull’s;
the cry of his lust will rise;
we will hear it in the silences of the moon.
~ Gabriele D’Annunzio, Il Cervo

July has always seemed to me the most haunted month of summer. The sun still reigns over the earth by day, but the nights grow deeper and more mysterious, as though the heavens themselves were preparing for autumn’s long descent into darkness.

The month has already offered several quiet spectacles. On July 11th, Mars appeared beside the waning Moon and the ancient stars of the Pleiades in the predawn sky, an austere conjunction that recalled the firmament's timeless order. A few evenings later, on July 16th and 17th, brilliant Venus drew close to the slender crescent Moon in the western sky, creating one of the month’s most beautiful pairings before slipping back into the gathering darkness.

Yet some of July’s greatest mysteries still lie ahead.

Between the nights of July 28th and 30th, the Southern Delta Aquariid meteor shower will send ghostly streaks of light across the southern sky. Less brilliant than the famous Perseids, these meteors possess a gentler beauty, appearing like silent embers cast from some unseen celestial fire.

Then, on the night of July 29th, the full Buck Moon will rise.

Named for the season when the stag regrows his antlers, the Buck Moon has long been associated with strength, renewal, and the untamed wilderness. Other traditions know it as the Thunder Moon, the Hay Moon, or the Mead Moon, preserving memories of storms, harvests, and ancient midsummer feasts.

For Christians, the symbolism runs even deeper. The moon has long represented the Blessed Virgin Mary, reflecting not her own light but that of her Divine Son. The stag likewise recalls Christ, who tramples the serpent beneath His feet and leads the faithful toward the sacred waters of eternal life. The annual shedding and renewal of the stag’s antlers has long served as an allegory of resurrection and new life.

As the month draws toward its close, keep watch upon the night sky. Watch for the silent fall of meteors, and when the Buck Moon rises above the horizon, remember the poets who found voices in its silence.

Luna d’argiento, lass’ ’o sunnà,
vaselo ’nfronte, nun ’o sceta…

Silver moon, let him dream,
kiss his brow, do not wake him…
~ Salvatore Di Giacomo, Luna Nova

~ By Giovanni di Napoli

Celebrating the Feast of Santa Maria Maddalena

Santa Maria Maddalena, ora pro nobis

On Wednesday evening, a few close friends and I celebrated the Feast of Santa Maria Maddalena. We began, as every Christian feast should, at Holy Mass before gathering afterward for dinner at a small Spanish restaurant.

For many, Santa Maria Maddalena is best remembered for her conversion and unwavering devotion to Christ. For me, she is one of my personal patrons, reminding me that no past is beyond God’s mercy and that even the most wayward soul may be transformed through prayer, penance, and grace.

The evening itself was simple, filled with good food, good wine, and the company of dear friends. While far removed from her ascetic life, it was nevertheless an opportunity to honor our glorious patroness, to reflect upon her example, and to give thanks for the grace that continually calls each of us to conversion. Evviva Santa Maria Maddalena!

~ BY Giovanni di Napoli, July 23rd, Feasts of St. Apollinaris and St. Liborius

Pulpo a Féira

Chorizos Al Infierno

Arroz Caldoso

Old Masters, New Amsterdam: Before There Was New York

A Dutch Flagship Coming to Anchor, ca. 1672, oil on canvas,
Willem van de Velde the Younger (1633-1707)

I have often written about my affection for the disappearing Italian neighborhoods of old New York, with their parish feasts, familiar accents, and distinct ethnic enclaves that once gave the city so much of its character. Visiting the New-York Historical’s current exhibition, Old Masters, New Amsterdam, was a reminder that the vanished Italian American communities I so often mourn were not the first to pass into history. Long before Little Italy, Bensonhurst, and countless other historic neighborhoods, there was New Amsterdam—a Dutch settlement that survives today more in memory than in brick and stone.

Created to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the founding of New Amsterdam, the exhibition brings together remarkable works by Rembrandt, Frans Hals, Jan Steen, and other masters of the Dutch Golden Age. These paintings illuminate the culture, society, and daily life of the seventeenth-century Netherlands. At the same time, an immersive reconstruction of New Amsterdam allows visitors to step into the settlement that once occupied the southern tip of Manhattan.

For anyone interested in early New York, Dutch history, or the artistic achievements of the seventeenth century, the exhibition is well worth seeing. It serves as a reminder that beneath the modern skyline lies a city whose earliest chapter was written by Dutch merchants, settlers, and craftsmen four centuries ago—a world that, like so many others in New York’s long history, survives today chiefly through memory, art, and the historical record.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 14th, Feast of San Marciano di Frigento

(L) Self-Portrait with Shaded Eyes, 1634, oil on panel, Rembrandt van
Rijn (1606-1669). (R) Portrait of a Man in a Tall Hat, ca. 1663,
oil on canvas, Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669)

(L) Self-Portrait, ca. 1629-30, oil on panel, Jan Lievens (1607-1674).
(R) Head of a Girl, ca. 1645, oil on panel, Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669)

Still Life with Meat and Basket of Cheese, ca. 1627,
oil on panel, Peter Claesz (1597-1661)

(L) Alchemist, 1684, oil on copper, Jacob Toorenvliet (1640-1719).
(R) Portrait of the Pharmacist Dr. Ysbrand Ysbrandsz. (1634/35-1705)
in an Interior, 1667, oil on canvas, Cornelis de Man (1621-1706)

(L) Bearded Man in a Fur Hat, ca. 1656, oil on panel, School of
Rembrandt van Rijn. (R) Smoker Seated at a Table, ca.
1654-57, oil on copper, Gabriel Metsu (1629-1667)

View from the Dunes Out to Sea, ca. 1655, oil on panel,
Adriaen van de Velde (1636-1672)

(L) Boy Playing a Flute, ca. 1635, oil on canvas, Attributed to Dirck van
Santvoort (1610-1680). (R) Old Woman at a Window with a Candle,
1671, oil on panel, Gerrit Dou (1613-1675)

(L) Scene at an Inn, ca. 1648-50, oil on panel, Gerard ter Borch (1617-1681). (R) Encouragement to Drink, ca. 1648-50, oil on panel, Gerard ter Borch

The Departure of the Pilgrim Fathers from Delftshaven,
1620, oil on panel, Adam Willaerts (1577-1664)

(L) Woman Selling Game from a Stall, 1653-54, oil on canvas,
Gabriel Metsu (1629-1667). (R) Herring Seller and Boy,
1664, oil on panel, Gerrit Dou (1613-1675)

(L) Bookkeeper at His Desk, ca. 1627, oil on panel, Jan Lievens
(1607-1674). (R) Scholar at His Desk, ca. 1632,
oil on panel, Jacob Backer (1608/9-1651)

A Winter Landscape with Skaters and Kolf Players, ca. 1610-1620,
oil on copper, Adam van Breen (1585-1640)

(L) Petrus (Peter) Stuyvesant, ca. 1660-1669, oil on wood panel,
unidentified artist. (R) Portrait of Antonie Coopal, 1635,
oil on Brazilian chestnut, Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669)

(L) Young Woman Seated in an Interior, Reading a Letter, ca. 1658-1661, oil on panel, Gabriel Metsu (I629-1667). (R) Portrait of a Lady, Seated with a Music Book on Her Lap, ca. 1640-44, oil on canvas, Gerrit Dou (1613-1675)

Thomas Cole's The Course of Empire

A visitor pauses before all five paintings

It had been ages since my last visit to the New York Historical Society, and returning to see Thomas Cole’s magnificent series, The Course of Empire, was well worth the wait. Displayed together, the five paintings trace the rise and fall of a civilization, from its earliest beginnings to its height of power, its violent destruction, and, finally, its abandonment to time and nature.

The Course of Empire: Consumption of Empire, ca. 1836

Each painting is remarkable in its own right, and seeing the complete cycle together never fails to impress. Unfortunately, my photographs of the first two works—The Savage State and The Arcadian State—did not turn out well, so I am sharing only The Consummation of Empire, Destruction, and Desolation. Together, the latter three paintings capture the grandeur, catastrophe, and haunting aftermath of Cole’s vision.

The Course of Empire: Destruction, 1836

More than a sequence of landscapes, The Course of Empire is a meditation on the recurring pattern of human civilization: its birth, ascent, triumph, decline, and eventual disappearance. Standing before these canvases, one cannot help but think of the cyclical view of history found in the writings of Giambattista Vico, Oswald Spengler, and others who believed that civilizations pass through recognizable stages of growth and decline. Cole’s masterpiece captures the enduring truth that no earthly empire, however magnificent, escapes the passage of time.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 12th, Feast of Santa Veronica

The Course of Empire: Desolation, 1836

Treasures from the Morgan’s Collections

The Saint of Bleecker Street Autograph manuscript, 1954,
Gian Carlo Menotti (1911-2007)

No visit to the Morgan Library & Museum feels complete without spending time in Pierpont Morgan’s magnificent study and the Library (East Room), where the splendor of the institution itself is as memorable as the objects it preserves.

The Collections Spotlight, Summer 2026 exhibition offered a reminder of the extraordinary breadth of the Morgan’s holdings. Among the many highlights were a document signed by Queen Maria I of Portugal, a manuscript notebook of Henry David Thoreau, a 1483 edition of Ulrich von Richental’s Das Concilium bůch geschehen zů Costencz, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s Zur Farbenlehre (On the Theory of Colors), and Gian Carlo Menotti’s autograph manuscript for The Saint of Bleecker Street, an opera rooted in the faith and traditions of New York’s Little Italy. Few museums bring together such a remarkable cross-section of European history, literature, music, and art under one roof.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli

Book of Hours, in Latin, begun by Georges Trubert and the Master
of the della Rovere Missals, completed by a follower of
Jean Bourdichon France, Avignon, ca. 1485-90

Das Concilium buch geschehen zu Costencz, Augsburg: Anton Sorg,
September 2, 1483, Ulrich von Richental (ca. 1365-1437[?])

On the Course of the Heavens and the Stars, in German,
attributed to Caspar Engelsüss and Michael Scot Germany,
Rhineland, second half of the fifteenth century

Life of St. Benedict, in Italian, Italy, Padua or Bergamo, ca. 1450

Zur Farbenlehre (On the theory of colors) Tübingen: In der J. G. Cotta'schen buchhandlung, 1810, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832)

Manuscript notebook, Cambridge and Concord, ca.
February-October 1852, Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)

(L) Bust of Alfonso II d’Avalos (1502-1546), Marquis of Pescara and Vasto, Bronze, by Annibale Fontana (1540-1587). (R) Portrait of a Knight of Malta, 1499, tempera and oil on panel, Gian Giacomo D'Alladio, called Macrino D'Alba

(L) Running Eros, Holding a Torch, Bronze, Italy, Boscoreale, second
or first century B.C. (R) Life mask of George Washington,
1785, plaster, Jean-Antoine Houdon (1741-1828)

A peek into the West Room Vault

Luminous Color at the Morgan

Sky Study, ca. 1850, oil on paper, Carl Maria Nicolaus Hummel

After exploring the rich symbolism of Tarot! Renaissance Symbols, Modern Visions, I wandered into Luminous Color (February 10 through November 8, 2026), an intimate exhibition devoted to oil sketches from the remarkable collection donated jointly to the Morgan Library & Museum and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Though modest in scale, these vibrant studies, often painted as preparations for larger works, possess a freshness and immediacy that finished paintings sometimes lose. Rather than polished masterpieces, they reveal artists thinking through light, color, atmosphere, and composition, making them feel unexpectedly personal and alive.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli

View of Ischia from the Sea, 1842, oil on paper,
mounted to canvas, Jean-Charles-Joseph Rémond

Moonlit Harbor in Southern Italy, 1833-35, oil
on paper, mounted to Masonite, Thomas Fearnley

Moonlit View of the River Elbe at Dresden, 1826, oil on paper,
mounted to paper-covered wood panel, Johan Christian Dahl

Ischia and the Bay of Naples by Moonlight, ca. 1800,
oil on paper, Circle of Pierre Henri de Valenciennes

Garden of the Villa Medici, Rome, ca. 1845-70,
oil on paper, Jean-Achille Benouville

View of Rome with Ruined Church, ca. 1825-35,
oil on paper, mounted on canvas, Franz Ludwig Catel

Landscape at Sunset, ca. 1830, oil on paper,
mounted to canvas, Carl Gustav Carus

Cloud Study, 1828, oil on paper, mounted to cardboard, Johan Christian Dahl

Sunset on the Normandy Coast, ca. 1850, oil on paper,
mounted to canvas, Eugène Isabey

Jungfrau, Mönch, and Eiger, ca. 1851, oil on paper,
mounted to cardboard, Carl Morgenstern

The Reimagining of the Tarot (Part II)

Rosenwald Tarot, Italy, Florence, ca. 1500,
woodcut on laid paper, unidentified artist

Previous: The Renaissance Origins of the Tarot (Part I)

Over the centuries, what began as an elegant Italian card game gradually became intertwined with mysticism, esotericism, fortune-telling, and the occult, inspiring generations of artists, writers, and filmmakers. Among the later works that particularly caught my attention were those associated with Austin Osman Spare and Aleister Crowley. Despite my personal antipathy toward these particular figures, for reasons beyond a difference of faith, their influence helped shape the tarot’s modern esoteric tradition.

The exhibition traces this transformation through paintings, prints, and popular culture, illustrating how a Renaissance creation evolved into one of the most recognizable symbolic systems of the modern world.

Although I remain most interested in the Renaissance origins of tarot and the reflections found in Meditations on the Tarot, it was fascinating to see how later generations continually reinvented its imagery.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli

Rosenwald Tarot, Italy, Florence, ca. 1500,
woodcut on laid paper, unidentified artist

(L-R) Death, The Hanged Man, and The Fool, Rider-Waite-Smith Tarot (Deck "C"), London: William Rider & Son, ca, 1921-31, Pamela Colman Smith (1878-1951) and Arthur Edward Waite (1857-1942)

(L-R) The Devil, The Lovers, and The World, Rider-Waite-Smith Tarot (Deck "C"), London: William Rider & Son, ca, 1921-31, Pamela Colman Smith (1878-1951) and Arthur Edward Waite (1857-1942)

Two Dogs Howling at the Moon, 1961, graphite, gouache,
and watercolor on paper, Leonora Carrington (1917-2011)

Surrealist Racing Forecast Cards, 1936, privately published
by Austin Osman Spare (1886-1956)

Tarot Deck, ca. 1906, ink and watercolor on paper and Obeah Cards, ca. 1930, ink and crayon on cardstock, Austin Osman Spare (1886-1956)

Tarot Deck, ca. 1906, ink and watercolor on paper,
Austin Osman Spare (1886-1956)

Tarot Deck, ca. 1906, ink and watercolor on paper,
Austin Osman Spare (1886-1956)

(L-R) Palimpsest (Self-Portrait), n.d., pencil and watercolor on board, Austin Osman Spare (1886-1956); Map of the Human Animal, 1962, watercolor, ink, and graphite on paper, Leonora Carrington (1917-2011); and The Other Clock (El otro relo), 1957, gouache and ink on cardboard, Remedios Varo (1908-1963) 

(L-R) Sketch for "The Magus," n.d., graphite on paper, and sketch for "Adjustment," n.d., ink and graphite on paper, Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) and Lady Frieda Harris (1877-1962)

(L-R) Death, The Magus, and Knight of Wands. Drawings for the Thoth Tarot, 1938-43, watercolor on paper with hand-painted mats, Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) and Lady Frieda Harris (1877-1962)

(L-R) The Moon, Three of Disks, and The Chariot. Drawings for the Thoth Tarot, 1938-43, watercolor on paper with hand-painted mats, Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) and Lady Frieda Harris (1877-1962)

Thoth Tarot Card Deck / Ordo Templi Orientis, White Box "B," St. Paul, MN: Llewellyn Publications, (1973(?)], Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) and Lady Frieda Harris (1877-1962)

(L-R) The Lovers, The Magician, The World, Tarot Universal Dalí,
Spain: Naipes Comas, 1984, Salvador Dali (1904-1989)

Devil and Fool, 1948 Oil on canvas, Kurt Seligmann (1900-1962)

The Book of Thoth, London: Urdo lempli Orientis/Chiswick Press,
1944, Aleister Crowley (1875-1947)

Translated by Arthur Edward Waite (1857-1942), The History of Magic, London: Rider & Co, Paternoster House, E.C., mid-twentieth century], Eliphas Lévi (Alphonse Louis Constant, 1810-1875)

(L-R) Untitled, n.d., watercolor and ink on paper; Sketch for Glass, 1908, watercolor and ink on paper; Time, n.d., watercolor and graphite on paperboard, Pamela Colman Smith (1878-1951)

(L-R) Untitled, 1955, ink, watercolor, and gouache on paper, Cameron (Marjorie Cameron, 1922-1995); Wheel of Fortune, n.d., gouache on paper, Juanita Guccione (1904-1999); and The Pulp Tarot, New York, The Unemployed Philosophers Guild, 2021, Todd Alcott