I’ve just returned from the huge new Raphael exhibition, called Sublime Poetry, at the Met and all I have to say is WOW! Wow, wow, WOW! I have had a very soft spot for Raphael ever since Janice and I wrote our first novel, The Sidewalk Artist, in which we felt we told his “real” story. Seeing so many of his paintings and drawings up close – so close I could see the bumps and even one which displayed his handwriting – I was reminded of his delicacy, his appreciation of beauty, his diplomacy and entrepreneurial skill, his genius, and the loss of that genius at such a young age, only 37. Imagine if he’d lived as long as Leonardo or Michelangelo….
Seeing La Fornarina, the baker’s daughter, up close, felt like greeting an old friend. The twinkle in her eye, the rich chestnut of her hair, her Mona Lisa smile. And Baldassare Castiglione, whose portrait was about four times the size of what I’d expected. Raphael apparently ensured his bald friend wore a flattering and jaunty hat in his portrayal. I took pictures of them both for my website, then thought twice. You can see some excellent reproductions online. I certainly could not do better. But what I could take were pictures of lesser-known works, the kinds you almost surely would not see elsewhere, or know to look for. See below what caught my eye.
I urge you to go to the exhibition at the Met if you can before it closes on June 28, 2026. Feast your eyes on the beauty and mastery of Raphael.







It was incredibly moving to see Raphael’s handwriting and glimpse into his thoughts. I used Gemini AI to help me make sense of the words, difficult at times to read, and give a translation. (DISCLAIMER: I do not use AI in any of my writing at all!) Below are what it provided, but I know enough Italian (although not very much) to be a little skeptical this is entirely correct, so please take it with a grain of salt. (If you are fluent in Italian and can provide a better translation, please don’t hesitate to get in touch!)
Transcription
Lo pensier che m’ivecchia e m’affanna
dov’io m’ prenda el cor e più m’appaga
e nel ringiovenir s’fà e rinasce
quello che m’ha tolto i begli anni.
S’egli è che ‘l pensier che m’arde e grida
mostrerà quel che alto che face
salìr da’ bassi ai più sublimi scanni.
Translation
The thought that ages me and brings me grief,
even as it grips my heart, it pleases me most;
for in renewing itself, it is born again—
that which has stolen my beautiful years.
If it is true that the thought which burns and cries within me
will show the heights of what it can achieve,
rising from the depths to the most sublime thrones.





