Leveraging Renaissance Art to Enhance Future Agricultural Practices

Photo credit: www.smithsonianmag.com

Isabella Dalla Ragione, an innovative Italian researcher, holds the unique title of “arboreal archaeologist.” Her intriguing work entails analyzing Renaissance artwork and historical documents to uncover endangered fruit varieties with the potential for revival. This endeavor is not only a journey into the past but also a response to the pressing issue of monocrop agriculture.

Each year, major agricultural companies predominantly cultivate a limited number of fruit and vegetable species, leading many others to extinction. The prevailing reliance on monoculture is not only detrimental to biodiversity but also exacerbates climate change, making our food systems increasingly vulnerable.

In an engaging discussion, Dalla Ragione, along with Smithsonian writer Mark Schapiro, delves into the significance of preserving agricultural diversity amidst a transforming climate and highlights the necessary actions to protect our future food security.

A transcript of their conversation is included below. For previous episodes that explore topics such as disaster preparedness in Texas, the incredible tale of Pablo Escobar’s hippos, and breakthroughs in reading ancient scrolls through artificial intelligence, check us out on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, iHeartRadio, or your preferred podcast platform.

Ari Daniel: Hello! I’m Ari Daniel, and I am speaking with Isabella Dalla Ragione, who seems like she is communicating from the heart of a Renaissance masterpiece.

Isabella Dalla Ragione: I reside in a former church.

Daniel: A church? You actually live in a church?

Dalla Ragione: Yes, my home used to serve as a parish.

Daniel: Behind her, I see an expansive stone mantle typical of old churches, adorned with fragments of pottery and vintage artifacts, along with a table artistically laid out with various fruits—a sight reminiscent of traditional still-life paintings.

Dalla Ragione: This room is cool and dark, perfect for storing fruits.

Daniel: Isabella is an agronomist—someone who examines crop cultivation—but for her, these fruits possess a profound historical significance. She holds up an apple-like fruit, shaped peculiarly like a bulb.

Could that be a pear?

Dalla Ragione: Actually, it’s an apple.

Daniel: What’s the key distinction? It appears so similar to a pear.

Dalla Ragione: Well, the pear’s stem is at the top.

Daniel: She gestures to what I expect should be the stem—at the top portion. She turns the fruit upside down, indicating the broader end as the stem’s location.

Dalla Ragione: For this apple, the stem is located here, at the bottom.

Daniel: This isn’t the typical apple we find today, yet it may very well have been common in rural Italy centuries ago—a notion supported by Dalla Ragione’s extensive examination of Italian art.

Dalla Ragione: This apple, referred to as muso di bue or cow-nose apple, depicted in numerous Renaissance artworks, was once widely known. Its name derives from its distinctive shape resembling a cow’s nose.

Daniel: I hadn’t encountered the term cow-nose apple previously. Once plentiful, this fruit now exists in only a limited number of secluded gardens, including Isabella’s. However, her mission is to change this trend, acting as a global advocate for these forgotten fruits.

Dalla Ragione: My research focuses on recovering these varieties, showcasing the immense agricultural diversity we once had. Each ancient tree, having thrived for hundreds of years, could provide vital insights and possibilities for the future of our crops.

Daniel: Dalla Ragione aspires to revive the past’s culinary heritage through her discoveries, driving home the notion that our global food supply is at risk.

From Smithsonian magazine and PRX Productions, this is “There’s More to That,” the podcast exploring the intersections of art and biodiversity for a sustainable planet. I’m your host, Ari Daniel, and today we’re uncovering agricultural lessons from Renaissance artwork.

Known as an exciting “fruit detective,” Isabella Dalla Ragione describes her role as an “arboreal archaeologist.”

Dalla Ragione: This title isn’t an official designation, but one my father gave me, reflecting a similarity between our work and that of archaeologists who reconstruct ancient lives through material remnants. We endeavor to do the same through the study of fruits.

The fruits we study are more than mere crops. They embody entire narratives, traditions, and relationships with communities. Each fruit potentially unveils a plethora of stories and cultural insights.

Daniel: Isabella’s childhood was heavily influenced by these ideas.

Dalla Ragione: I grew up in Sansepolcro—a small, rural village where nature directly influenced my upbringing. In the ’60s and ’70s, my father began an ambitious research endeavor centered on our rural heritage, which was rapidly eroding. He focused on preserving elements of this culture, particularly the traditional plants and fruit trees. I started accompanying him on exploration trips, transforming what began as an adventure into a quest to reconnect with our roots.

Daniel: It was Dalla Ragione’s realization that evidence of various fruits could be discovered in frescoes and artwork that sparked her deeper exploration.

Dalla Ragione: Unraveling the evolution of a fruit variety is akin to solving a puzzle—gathering information from diverse sources, including art.

Mark Schapiro: I was captivated by Isabella’s methodology. Witnessing how she connected her research to impressive artworks opened my eyes to the significance of her contributions.

Daniel: Mark Schapiro, a journalist and academic at UC Berkeley, recently journeyed to Italy to collaborate with Isabella on biodiversity restoration, subsequently documenting their explorations in Smithsonian magazine.

Schapiro: Accompanying Isabella was thrilling, even as she navigated Italian highways at high speeds, often gesturing animatedly during crucial discussions. While many initiatives to rejuvenate biodiversity are emerging globally, few utilize art as a means to track lost agricultural varieties.

Daniel: With years of experience writing about climate change, Mark expresses concern regarding our dwindling agricultural biodiversity.

Schapiro: The overwhelming trend of consolidation within the agribusiness industry is striking. Currently, four companies control over 50% of all commercial seeds, leading to a significant reduction in crop variety both in the United States and worldwide.

Daniel: When I reflect on my last visit to a grocery store, the limited options of fruits—perhaps half a dozen types of apples, a couple of blueberry variations, along with green and red grapes—come to mind. These selections hardly encapsulate the vast array of fruits historically available, all lost as we’ve gravitated toward large-scale agribusiness.

Schapiro: Isabella emphasizes an essential point: if biodiversity can be seen as a language, older varieties possess a more intricate vocabulary than today’s commercial types. In stark contrast, modern varieties seem to have a very simplified lexicon, limiting the resilience of our agricultural systems.

Daniel: Both Mark and Isabella agree that this dwindling vocabulary presents a real threat to our food systems.

Dalla Ragione: Take bananas as an example—on a global scale, banana cultivation relies overwhelmingly on a single clone known as Cavendish. This dependency on one variety underscores the inherent instability in monoculture practices.

Daniel: So, in essence, we rely on a singular “word” in our agricultural vocabulary.

Dalla Ragione: Precisely, and it’s an extremely limited one.

Daniel: The loss of this agricultural language erodes not just fruits but an entire cultural heritage. Renaissance paintings that Isabella investigates are more than artistic ornaments; they serve as vital links to a more diverse history of cultivation.

Schapiro: Reflecting on my exploration with Isabella, I recall a moment when she excitedly directed my attention to a particular painting.

Daniel: This interaction took place within the halls of the National Gallery of Umbria, located in Perugia, where Isabella spent her early years.

Schapiro: The painting, the Polyptych of St. Anthony by Piero della Francesca, stands tall at over six feet. My attention was drawn to the beautifully depicted Virgin Mary cradling baby Jesus—an image radiating with vibrant colors. However, the fruit detail almost eluded me until Isabella pointed it out.

Dalla Ragione: This painting uniquely features fruit by Piero della Francesca. In my childhood, I recognized the cherries depicted as reminiscent of how local grandmothers would teach children to eat cherries. This portrayal serves as a poignant reminder that these cherries also symbolize Christ’s blood.

Daniel: However, those cherries have largely vanished from present-day Italian diets. What becomes evident is that every eliminated fruit variety represents a loss far greater than just the fruit itself.

Schapiro: When we consider fruits from 500 years ago, it’s important to note that these trees had to adapt to diverse climates and pest pressures. Those that survived displayed resilience, a quality increasingly necessary as climatic conditions become more variable. In contrast, modern varieties frequently exhibit vulnerabilities due to their reliance on specific chemical inputs.

As we observe here in California, yields of fruit crops fluctuate significantly with changing weather patterns. For example, cherry trees rely on sufficient cold periods in winter to thrive, a necessity increasingly threatened by temperature anomalies. Isabella’s investigations thus become pivotal in revealing that crops with historical roots in specific regions demonstrate the greatest capacity for adaptation amidst change.

Daniel: Dalla Ragione underscores that Renaissance art often provides valuable insight for identifying historical fruit varieties.

Dalla Ragione: Especially in the early 1400s through the mid-1500s, as art transitioned from the Byzantine aesthetic to a more natural representation. During the Renaissance, every fruit depicted carried profound symbolism intended for a wide audience—the wealthy, the impoverished, farmers, and aristocrats alike.

Daniel: Isabella refers to further examples from the Palazzo Trinci in Foligno.

Dalla Ragione: Palazzo Trinci showcases extraordinary frescoes by Gentile da Fabriano, a meticulous painter from the late 1300s into the early Renaissance. These frescoes illustrate the cycle of life, where specific fruits are emblematic of life stages; for instance, children and adolescents are shown climbing a pear tree, while elderly figures are associated with peaches.

Daniel: Mark admires Isabella’s distinctive methodology, blending her art historical context with tangible locations where these fruits might still thrive, often referencing ancient landowner records to trace five-century-old cultivation practices.

Schapiro: Her exploration often leads to monasteries, many of which harbor forgotten orchards with the very fruits we see in historic paintings. This newfound connection spurned my curiosity as well.

Dalla Ragione: I call it my obsession.

Daniel: Once you discover a fruit like the cow-nosed apple, what impact does it have concerning biodiversity and climate change? What opportunities does this particular fruit offer us?

Dalla Ragione: This is central to my mission of preserving these apple and pear varieties.

Daniel: Italy once thrived with agricultural variety, but that richness has drastically dwindled due to commercial consolidation. This shift threatens food security, yet long-standing varieties have developed resilience over centuries and could endure further challenges.

Dalla Ragione: The future remains uncertain, and we cannot predict which varieties could be essential. With environmental changes speeding up, it is imperative to preserve our agricultural biodiversity. If we neglect this duty, we sacrifice irreplaceable heritage.

Daniel: A monoculture refers to the repetition of a single crop type—like a specific kind of corn or banana—produced ad infinitum, resulting in minimal genetic diversity. This method now dominates many industrial farming practices.

Dalla Ragione: Monoculture inherently lacks stability. The resilience of an ecosystem stems from its diversity. Complex systems ensure stability, while monoculture is, by nature, fragile. A single event—be it a pest or extreme weather—could devastate the entire crop. Therefore, restoring agricultural ecosystems necessitates enriching complexity and diversity. For instance, in Italy, there’s a reemergence of mixed wheat cultivation, employing various species and ecotypes. Such strategies increase stability; a single issue may affect a fraction of a field, leaving others intact.

Schapiro: This principle reflects a natural survival mechanism. If a field hosts multiple varieties, while some may perish, others will persist and adapt over time. This is the essence of why biodiversity is crucial.

There’s also growing acknowledgment of traditional Indigenous agricultural practices globally, including in the U.S., where communities have cultivated diverse crops for centuries, providing crucial frameworks we can learn from.

Daniel: Mark points out that the call for biodiversity preservation resonates strongly with both scientists and policymakers today, exemplified by initiatives like the Convention on Biological Diversity, aimed at safeguarding the world’s remaining diversity.

Schapiro: Efforts to maintain biodiversity, whether in flora or fauna, represent a global challenge requiring local responses. The preservation of regional varieties must take root in communities like Isabella’s in Umbria, while similar initiatives are essential elsewhere.

Daniel: Before our conversation wraps, I can’t resist asking Isabella—are there any elusive fruits still on your quest list?

Dalla Ragione: I’m in pursuit of a fig variety named fico rondinino, the “swallow fig.” Despite extensive searches, I’ve never found it. There’s also the carovella pear, frequently referenced in Renaissance texts but now vanished. Though I often face doubts, the thrill of discovery keeps me driven. This research is nothing if not full of surprises.

Daniel: Thank you for this enriching conversation. I wish you the best in your continued search for the rondinino and those other elusive fruit varieties. Thank you.

Dalla Ragione: Thank you!

Daniel: Grazie.

Dalla Ragione: And to everyone, Ciao.

Schapiro: Thank you, it was great speaking with you.

Dalla Ragione: Ciao, ciao!

Daniel: Read more about Isabella Dalla Ragione’s inspiring work and explore visuals of the fruits and artworks discussed on SmithsonianMag.com. Links will be made available in our show notes, alongside resources for subscribing to Smithsonian magazine.

“There’s More to That” is produced by Smithsonian magazine and PRX Productions. Tune in on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, iHeart Radio App, or your preferred platforms.

From the magazine, the production team includes Debra Rosenberg and Brian Wolly, while PRX’s team comprises Jessica Miller, Genevieve Sponsler, Adriana Rozas Rivera, Sandra Lopez-Monsalve, and Edwin Ochoa. Jocelyn Gonzales serves as the executive producer for PRX Productions.

Our episode artwork is crafted by Emily Lankiewicz, with fact-checking by Stephanie Abramson. Music is courtesy of APM Music. I’m Ari Daniel—thank you for listening.

I think I’ll enjoy an apple now.

Source
www.smithsonianmag.com