My recent whirlwind trip through 6 countries and 7 time zones in 13 days and with 4 working languages (definitely a new personal record) with nearly all my worldly possessions in tow got me thinking about what makes or breaks an adventure. I was moving from Milan to Berlin via France (to crash my mom’s vacation – more on that later), which required a transatlantic flight to get back to Europe via London, two and a half days to pack and clean a flat, and then a thirteen-hour night bus from Milan to Paris. After the Parisian dream (my first time there!), I then took the Eurostar (my very first!) through France and Belgium to Cologne, and from there continued on a Deutsche Bahn train to Berlin.

The night bus experience was certainly made authentic by the French teenager who spent the whole night of travel elbowing me in his sleep or watching TikToks without headphones on. But even with the tiny annoyances like that, plus how the bus drivers smelled profusely of cigarettes the whole ride, the experience was far more magical than grungy. How else can I describe entering France for the first time by reading “Mont Blanc” by Percy Shelley while going through Mont Blanc itself? Or suddenly being jolted awake by a stop in Dijon at 5:30 AM, with the first streams of light breaking over the imposing structure of the Dijon Cathedral? Or falling back asleep, only to wake again to the sight of hay bales in Auxerre that looked like they were lifted straight out of an impressionist masterpiece. (My first thought was, “Wow, they really look like that?!” because somehow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hay bale in real life before that moment.) Small, varied, and distant castles then seemed to accompany our bus along the last and final stretch from the countryside to Paris – reaching Vincennes at a still early 9:20 AM. Adventures are full of magic, and the magic comes in letting go of the small bad parts and embracing the spontaneous (and often improvised) good parts.

​Maybe an adventure is also tagging along on someone else’s for a little while; seeing the world through their eyes, and seeing what they value from their perspective. And then it’s seeing the same thing but finding a different aspect to be remarkable or perhaps even brilliant. For instance, my mom was interested in visiting key places in St. Joan of Arc’s life and death, so we toured Riems, Chartres, and Rouen. Each place had something special: the center of the French monarchy’s coronations in Riems, the Virgin Mary’s veil that was gifted by Charlemagne’s grandson to the village in Chartres, and the burial place of the heart of King Richard the Lionheart in Rouen. But what I found very special was a Calder sculpture that my mom and I literally stumbled on by accident in Rouen outside of the town’s Musée des Beaux-Arts. In elementary school, I fondly remember reading The Calder Game and loving the mind puzzle of connecting clues and art. (The prequel – Chasing Vermeer was equally good if my memory serves me well.) My native Chicago is also the seat of Calder’s Flamingo statue, so I enjoyed thinking that I could be like the main character and decode my surroundings in Chicago and the Midwest. Anyways, seeing an unexpected Calder seemingly so out-of-place in Normandy with its chilly sea-salt-air brought a giant smile to my face. And it reminded me the importance of having exposure to art, stories, and mysteries when you are young. A “room mom” in elementary school used to periodically come into our lessons and teach us about different world famous painters and time periods. She had studied art history before becoming a mom to one of the boys in my class, and would give us biographical information about a painter and then have us interpret or say what we saw in projector images of their most renowned art pieces. (Yep, we still had projectors and no Smart Boards until later.) I remember being thoroughly bored by these lessons – which I feel bad about now that I’m older, a teacher myself, and realize how much time she must have put into volunteering as an art historian – and wondering why I was looking at images of still fruit. In hindsight, however, knowing that art was something I was supposed to appreciate made me slightly more open to it as a grew older, so that by the time I was an adult, I actively wanted to learn more about other cultures and experiences by looking at things like art (and listening to music, reading books in other languages, etc.) Teaching is a sacrifice, as is writing for an audience, and the investments that teachers and authors made into me as a student and reader gave me the ability to make connections, feel a deeper connection to an unknown and new place, and experience happiness many decades later.  

​Adventures are also about endings and beginnings. At the Louvre, I saw Da Vinici’s Mona Lisa with my own eyes. This marked the final major work of Da Vinci’s that I was yet to see! I started a journey to view each of Da Vinci’s most important masterpieces when I took an art history course on Da Vinci and Milan in 2019. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Da Vinci’s The Last Supper and visiting the tree he used to sit under at what is now a conference center close to Santa Maria delle Grazie, and decided I would try to see each of his great works in my lifetime. This lead me on a five-year journey from Milan to Parma to London to Washington, DC, and finally to Paris with many repeat stops in Milan along the way. (N.b., the Sala delle asse is still not fully open in Milan’s Castello Sforzesco, but I’ve at least finally gotten to see part of it on some recent museum trips. The full room to be experienced later!)

​I truly expected that this feat would be something that took nearly my entire lifetime to do (or, at least, ten years). Getting to see it all in five years was both an act of intent and a happy accident. (Well, being lucky enough to attend the universities I did/am and to live in Europe at my age sometimes feels like some combination of luck and right timing, as much as it took many years of hard work to get to where I am.) And standing there in front of the Mona Lisa, both further from it and closer to it than I anticipated, I didn’t feel any extreme emotions, simply contentment. Contentment in working hard enough, living life fully enough, and merely being gifted enough blessings in life that I have seen so much beauty and wonder for myself. And reflection and love for all the people that have visited Da Vinci works with me over the last half decade; study abroad friends with whom I saw La Scapigliata in Parma, an old friend who took an early lunch break in DC to see Ginevra de’ Benci with me, my mom who saw The Virgin of the Rocks cartoon in London’s nearly empty National Gallery with me during covid times, etc. Meanwhile, a different journey I inadvertently set myself off on five years ago to collect individual Marshall Plan projects data in West Europe continues with some (more) planned archive trips in Germany leading me to a new and fresh start in Berlin. Whether or not officials recorded – and then left to posterity – highly specific economic records on Marshall Plan disbursements is unfortunately outside of my control, unlike Googling the locations of famous Da Vinci works. If anyone owns a time travel machine, then please let me know.

​Finally, a word of redemption for the Parisians and French. After having it drilled into my head by Americans, Brits, and Northern Italians for most of my life that the French/Parisians are the meanest people on earth, they were nothing but the loveliest strangers I have ever met in my life. They went out of their way to help us whenever we needed it, sometimes sat and chatted with us just to be nice, and were all around just deeply, incredibly kind. Perhaps it was post-Olympics euphoria or joy from the optimism the Paralympics brought to town, but we had literally zero negative experiences the entire week; while I’ve had mostly positive experiences in every country I’ve ever visited, each has normally had at least one outlier experience with a stranger. One café owner not only spoke to me in French and was incredibly pleasant to my mom and me, but he also had TTPD playing in the background (if you’re a fellow Swiftie, then you’ll understand the gravity of this.) The Parisians were also far more willing to speak in French with me than the Milanese are to speak in Italian with me some days (and I am nearly fluent in Italian while I am admittedly poor at French still). In Chartres, the café owner and our tour guide even cheered for me when I pulled out some (simple) French. It was the sweetest thing, and I hope the Parisians are an example for how you can encourage someone to keep going, and keep trying. That’s how we open up, show up, and share ourselves and our culture with others. Finally, it made me feel like my London lockdown attempt to teach myself French had not been in vain; another (happy) ending in learning coming back to offer assistance and a gift years later.

​On a recent day trip, I had a chance to enjoy northern Italy’s unusually sunny March weather in Novara, Piemonte. I was initially drawn to visit Novara by the promise of the Castello’s “Boldini, De Nittis et les italiens de Paris” visiting art exhibit. It seemed rather fitting that an art display dedicated to famous Italian painters who lived and worked for most of their lives in France would be hosted in Piemonte – an Italian region bordering France, where you can even hear instructions announced in Italian and French on the local trains. I did, however, learn that if and when visiting a town known as the “city of the clouds,” you should expect massive throngs of people if you visit on an unusually warm spring day. Between the carnival, street food fair, and annual flower show, the city was jam packed. And with spring break and Easter approaching in Milan, there were similarly large crowds at Palazzo Reale for the twin exhibit “De Nittis: Pittore della vita moderna,” which I was inspired to attend after the other exhibit in Novara.
 
Below is a summary of what I learned about De Nittis and modernist Italian painters in Paris from these two exhibits, as well as some short reflections. Disclaimer: My only art training is from an undergraduate study abroad course on Renaissance art, so take my opinions with a thick grain of salt.

​Giuseppe De Nittis – a renowned modernist painter – hailed from Bari, Puglia, where his family affectionately referred to him as “Peppino,” and later studied in Napoli before visiting Paris for the first time, falling in love with the city and culture, and later deciding to make it his permanent home. In shaping and showing modern life in Paris during the time of the world’s fairs/expos and industrial and urban change in the late nineteenth century, De Nittis and other Italian painters in Paris capture the energy and vibrancy of transformation. His wife – Léontine – was a frequent subject of his paintings. De Nittis’s earlier paintings in Paris reflect his youth and willingness to assimilate to French culture and daily life, while also networking his way into serious connections. Conversely, the later paintings show more of a focus on stillness, tranquility, and the peace that comes with escaping the city for country life.

​The most prominent takeaway from the Italian painters in Paris is the following: What’s ordinary can gleam. Not only is there physical glimmering from the bright yellows in Corcos’s La farfalla (1881) or the dazzling embroidery of Edoardo Tofano’s Passeggiata sul Bosforo ​(1879), but there is also the small joys that many of the paintings evoke. You can almost hear the deep music from Federico Zandomeneghi’s Il Violoncellista (1882), experience the laughs and shrieks of joy and fun in De Nittis’s La lezione di pattinaggio (1875), and feel the quiet and serenity of De Nittis’s Sulle rive della Senna (1874) and Léontine in canotto (1874). But you can also sense of how the “ordinary” shown by the painters was really a break with the past. The normalcy and quiet grandeur of the ordinary is drawn under a feeling of disquietude and change. Paris (and many other urban areas the artists drew, like London) was undergoing massive change at the end of the 19th century, and this is reflected in the busy-ness, societal standards, and intermingling reflected in the modernists’ portrayals of everyday life. While most of the paintings center on upper class or middle upper class life, you get the sense that the cities, expectations, and qualities of life/states of work were changing for nearly everyone.

​I was lucky to get to see these two juxtapositions up close and in two cities; the exhibit in Novara focused on a few of the most prominent Italian painters in Paris at the end of the nineteenth century, bringing masterful scenes/portraits of modern life to the halls of science, industry, innovation, and further trade flows. Many of the most famous paintings and portraits were completed in time to go on display for the world’s fairs in Paris, which were held in 1855, 1867, and 1878. The 1867 expo was particularly important for Italian painters’ arrival on the French art scene, as it marked the debut of De Nittis and Boldini, a modernist painter from Ferrara who studied art in Florence. And the other exhibit in Milan centered on solely De Nittis and his personal evolution over time, not the wider scope of transformation in Paris, France, and Italy. The breadth of De Nittis’s interests were clearer in the Palazzo Reale exhibit: there were paintings of Puglia and Napoli that were more prominent at the beginning of his career, and then even a Japanese inspired twist to his work towards the end. The differences between when and how De Nittis froze Campania and Paris in time with his art is staggering and speak to both his skill, and how different “change” looked in those places at around the same time.
 
While the people in the foreground and background of De Nittis’s paintings are elite and wealthy in his stills of Paris, those in Napoli are visibly poorer. Take, for example, his incredible paintings of Mt. Vesuvius’s eruption in 1872, which he witnessed with his own eyes. It reminded me of Josef Rebell’s painting of Vesuvius erupting decades earlier (the painting of which I saw with my own eyes in 2019 at Milan’s Galleria d’Italia). Rebell’s painting makes the danger and destruction of Vesuvius seem far off and far away, the moon illuminating the perilous waves which keep the watcher away from the fire and smoke.

​De Nittis’s, on the other hand, focuses on the panic and bustle of people trying to get out of harm’s way, and the beauty yet terror that is evoked by the fact that Vesuvius upended or distorted everyday life in Napoli. But, again, the poverty and precarious economic state of those in the paintings of Napoli and Vesuvius seem to be emphasized, except for that of Pompeii’s Forum where, like today, the tourists at the ruins are dressed differently and come from a different background than the locals. (Although, I have to point out as well that tourists in the nineteenth century were much better dressed than those today, and dressed for a cooler climate than the baking Campanian sun I associate with Pompeii.)
​
Back in Novara, the city is defined both by its proximity to and distance from Milano and Torino and its heritage from Saints Gaudenzio and Agabio. Gaudenzio and Agabio were the first and second bishops of Novara so there are paintings and statues in their honor in the Duomo and Basilica di San Gaudenzio. There are even pastries specific to Novara that are named after Agabio, so there’s lots of cultural connections to the saintly hero icons scattered around the città (including a quarter named after him). As with all nice day trips, they must come to an end at some point, and walking back to the Novara train station with several street names the same as those in Milan punctuated by reminders of Gaudenzio and Agabio reminded me how intertwined and distinct the cultures and histories of northern Italian cities are (and dare I say with French cities too).   

​References
“Boldini, De Nittis et les italiens de Paris” exhibit at Castello di Novara
“De Nittis: Pittore della vita moderna” exhibit at Palazzo Reale (Milano)

A few weeks ago while in Washington, DC, I had the good fortune to see the National Gallery of Art with a close friend who I hadn’t seen in person for seven years. The experience reminded me of the importance of friendship, how having close relationships isn’t defined by space and time, and that art from many different eras and cultures tries to get us to tap into that humanness that connects us to others. It was also a lesson in how you may end up in surprising places with people you expect, or in ordinary, regular places with people you never anticipated meeting.

Getting to walk through the art museum with my friend was a full circle moment, especially since that is something we did together in Chicago about 8 years ago, long before we had any idea what our lives or careers would look like. The day hit home that in some ways, the people that matter in our lives are constant, living paintings in our lives. We see them change, grow, and become more amazing than we ever thought possible; more frankly, we see them age and mature. (Although, as a counterpoint, I have to say my friend really did look like she hadn’t aged in the 7 years since I last saw her!) Friends reflect ourselves in a way that impersonal art can’t and their faces are more familiar than the strangers on the expensive walls of an art gallery. Sure, our friends don’t open up our world to allegory or metaphor, but they do embody who we were years or months or days ago when we first met, and who we hoped to be, and how we imagined our friendship could span the (short or long) distance in space and time.

Friendship shows us the way more than we give it credit for. And real friends, genuine friends, are rare, as the adage goes. Rarer, I would argue, than DaVinci paintings, Michelangelo statues, and Rubens portraits added up across the world. Friendship reminds us of the promise we had in the past, what we’ve realized in the present, and humbly and more importantly, humorously – steers us towards better decisions. Or at least helps us make fun of our funny slip ups!

Art reminds us of the same things…faded smile lines in images of those enduring immense suffering; chips in paintings that were once pristine and unblemished; marble Roman faces which to us are now pale, but were once in radiant color. The formal and informal art around us also reflects the phases and changes we all go through. The Joan of Arc Series by Louis Maurice Boutet de Monvel portrayed St. Joan of Arc as young, mature, strong and vulnerable. The sunlight dripping from Titian’s ceiling mirrored the noontime light streaming into the museum. Dorothea Lange’s photographs reflect the hardship of the Great Depression and made me wonder what photography from the COVID-19 pandemic captured. How many of those expressions were also held in the US, UK, Italy, and around the world?

My friend also taught me that you should pay just as much attention to the frame as you do to the painting or portrait it was carefully selected for. This seems like a good life lesson too: the frame you put around your life and its opportunities shapes and defines them. And your frame of reference or frame of mind may just entirely transform the environment you create for yourself and others.

On March 10, Bocconi University in partnership with the BLEST Lab and the Institute for European PolicyMaking hosted The Future of Europe Conference. This very special event brought together high-level representatives of European institutions, member states, and think tanks for a discussion of what Europe’s governance, macroeconomic, and sustainable future looked like. Since each of the panels involved lengthy speeches, debates, and (at times) combative Q&A’s with the audience, I decided to devote separate blog posts to the Governance and Macroeconomics panels. This one focuses on the proceedings from the Macroeconomics panel, which was chaired by Prof. Elena Carletti of Università Bocconi and involved Michala Marcussen (Chief Economist of the Société Générale Group), Kalin Anev Janse (CFO of the European Stability Mechanism and European Financial Stability Facility), and Ugo Panizza (a professor at the Geneva Graduate Institute). These reflections do not represent my own opinions, but those of the panelists I quote, and is an effort to share and communicate the current mood and thinking of expert European economists on the health and future of the economy and financial system in the present moment. If you read Part I of this blog, then you will notice that the headings of these reflections are the same, although the Macroeconomics panel took their thoughts and recommendations in a very different direction than the Governance one. In my view, they are equally insightful and revealing!
 
Reflection #1: Treaty reforms inspired the most enthusiasm, and the biggest ideas.
While none of the panelists were supporting or detracting from calls for fiscal union in the EU, Panizza did suggest that, if such a step were to occur, it was the massive capitalization of the NextGenEU funds (referred to as PNRR in Italy) that broke the taboo in EU institutions influencing and injecting money into member states’ fiscal policy. However, with the ECB taking on a more and more discretionary role in member state financing through policies of quantitative easing (QE) and outright monetary transactions (OMT), Panizza worries the ECB is becoming the “fiscal watchdog of Europe.” Marcussen added later on that all the current proposals for common EU debt suggest dividing the fiscal union into ‘normal’ and ‘excess’ levels of debt such that in times of fiscal downturn or crisis, states are still responsible for solely their own ‘excess’ levels. Such measures are supposed to calm fears of the 'Frugal Four' (Austria, Denmark, the Netherlands, and Sweden) that fiscal union would lead to precarious spending across the bloc and tie their sovereign wealth to fiscal impropriety by other member states.  
         Marcussen also brought up how it may be wise to create mechanisms of some kind for governments to have access to safe funding at all times, instead of only having access to the ESM in times of crisis.
         Concerns over the fiscal health of member states and the EU more broadly also remain from the Covid-19 shocks, and those from the war in Ukraine and resulting energy crisis. Prof. Panizza was very frank in describing how debt-to-GDP ratios are at more elevated levels than they were before the Great Recession, and accelerations in GDP which bring this number down may be due to inflation, not real growth. While the spreads between bond yields in Eurozone countries remain relatively low, the markets can judge the economic health of the entire system incorrectly.
         The largest and most explicit calls for reforms came from Janse. Janse argued that the treaties should be reformed such that the ESM is accountable to the European Parliament, instead of the individual member states, as it is currently. However, it should be noted that the ESM, in its current design, is highly accountable to the national parliaments, and as such is an intergovernmental institution.
 
Reflection #2: More Europe, but also smarter/“strategic” Europe.
For Marcussen, the economic risks from de-linked fiscal and monetary policy strategies are only part of the need for more Europe in macroeconomics. The other reason is that challenging geopolitics along with high inflation and shorter economic cycles will make economic transitions more volatile and unpredictable for economists and experts to manage.
Janse made the position that European institutions like the ESM are better positioned from US-centered or even global institutions like the IMF. (To my own surprise, the ESM is apparently better capitalized than the IMF.) The ESM also works similarly to the IMF, with countries in fiscal distress and undergoing market exclusion able to access precautionary lines but under conditionality measures of structural reforms. The ESM has a hugely positive brand with private lenders, which has led to low “market stigma” and helped to create the view that ESM lending is critical to investors trusting new and re-investments in states that go to the ESM for help.
         It was raised by Goulard in the audience, however, that part of why ESM reforms (like being brought directly into the Treaty on the Functioning of the EU) might not be implemented is because more mechanisms, like the ESM itself and open monetary transactions (OMT), are created and work. From this perspective, creating more institutional European mechanisms to respond to crises has instituted much-needed emergency instruments, but prevented having more difficult conversations about long-term institutional reforms that are necessary. Goulard referenced at this point fervent debate in France over Macron’s plans to raise the retirement age; a policy change and reform we now know quite literally burst to the surface of French politics after Macron invoked article 49.3 of the French constitution to ram through the raised pension age. Her main point was that macroeconomic funding needs to not only be dedicated to creating new instruments, but most importantly to investing in the future (such as in education).
 
Reflection #3: America was front and center, in good and bad ways.
In Marcussen’s opinion, the US overstimulated household income with its Covid-19 relief policies, whereas the EU provided the right amount of economic stimulation while also protecting household incomes. The US and Europe are not conceived of as rivals in Covid-19 recovery and anti-inflation plans, although the fiscal and monetary decisions made on both sides of the Atlantic can and will influence one another (particularly due to the linkage of reserve currencies). Each should therefore pay attention to the actions and macroeconomic forecasts of the other.
         The US also came up in history lessons from Janse – he explained how the Dutch Guilder was the global reserve currency before it was the British Pound, and is now the US Dollar; but, the euro’s creation has given the Eurozone a way to compete for control in the global financial and monetary markets as the world’s second reserve currency. As the current bout of inflation and recent collapse of some regional banks brings monetary and macro-prudential policy front and center once more amidst claims that the US dollar is slowly declining in its role as the global reserve currency, we might all benefit from taking some meaningful glances at monetary history in its longer perspective.
 
Writing these two blog posts has made me think about what types of issues would garner the most focus if US states were to host a conference amongst various policy experts. Obviously the US is not in need of anything like “treaty” reforms between the states since the US is a complete political, fiscal, monetary, and prudential union. But it is still an interesting intellectual exercise to think about what issues might predominate the discussions, and if/how state and federal action could work in tandem to reduce polarization on some issues in favor of tangible, implementable solutions. Gun control reform, the opioid epidemic, and healthcare costs/equity come top of mind to me as potential areas that might benefit from tempering down the “national” heat and anger that comes from different ideological sides and may benefit from state-level cooperation and task forces to create actionable and politically feasible steps to make real progress.
 
Acknowledgements
Thanks Università Bocconi and BLEST for hosting events like this and allowing students to attend!

​On March 10, Bocconi University in partnership with the BLEST Lab and the Institute for European PolicyMaking hosted The Future of Europe Conference. This very special event brought together high-level representatives of European institutions, member states, and think tanks for a discussion of what Europe’s governance, macroeconomic, and sustainable future looked like. As a student of European politics and institutions, and an American, I wanted to reflect on some of the biggest takeaways and areas of agreement (which were fewer in number than the disagreements :) ) from the panels. Since each of the panels involved lengthy speeches, debates, and (at times) combative Q&A’s with the audience, I have decided to devote separate blog posts to the Governance and Macroeconomics panels. This one focuses on the outcomes from the Governance panel, which was presented by Jean Pierre Vidal (Chief Economic Advisor to European Council Pres. Michel), Brigid Laffan (Emeritus Professor of the European University Institute in Florence), and Sylvie Goulard (Member of France’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs) and moderated by Prof. Catherine DeVries of Bocconi. These reflections do not represent my own opinions, but those of the speakers and panelists I quote, and is an effort to share and communicate the current mood and thinking of expert Europeans in the present moment.
 
Reflection #1: Treaty reforms inspired the most enthusiasm, and the biggest ideas.
In many ways, the EU’s collective response to Brexit and to the Covid-19 pandemic was seen by the panel as paving the way for serious discussions about treaty reforms to the EU’s institutions. Central to this discussion was how and whether treaty reforms would secure popular support across the EU, how the EU could be made more accountable to European citizens, and the usual ‘unanimity’ versus ‘intergovernmentalism’ debate about EU decision-making. Goulard felt very strongly that the EU would need to end decision-making by unanimity if the EU were to take the hard decisions necessary to avert the climate crisis and stand up to dangerous external threats. She used examples like the hamstringing of the UN Security Council by unanimity rules, and the fact that even university boards are not run by unanimity. Vidal was much more diplomatic, defending how unanimity allows for a representation of all member state interests and states are unlikely to give up their veto power. But questions about how treaty reforms could improve EU accountability were at the heart of these talks.
 
Laffan also turned this topic on its head in some ways, as she brought up how member state governments need to take responsibility for “bringing Europe home” to their citizens and explaining the necessity for reforms to them. As someone experienced in consulting on campaigns for passing EU treaties (in Ireland), she stressed that it becomes the role of national MPs to explain to their constituents what the changes to Europe will offer them. The biggest obstacle, in her view, to MPs' ability to do this was that they often do not understand themselves what the treaties are or mean. These national-level actors therefore need to be trained in the treaties and reforms so that they can “sell” it in their respective member states and communities.
 
Mario Monti, Italy’s Prime Minister (Pres. of the Chamber of Deputies) from 2011-2013, attended the event as a former head of government and former President of Bocconi, and threw in his own ideas for reform of the European Council. PM Monti suggested the European Council adopt a code of conduct to combat the “reprehensive” behavior the member state leaders have towards each other at the table, and even worse behavior in their national press conferences. Interestingly, he also suggested the European Council is the EU institution in most need of urgent reforms. Prof. Laffan suggested in her reply that this might be a good idea. She reasoned that, as a soft instrument, a code of conduct would be a small change that could maybe be snuck in without an outcry from many members of the European Council, but it “becomes a benchmark to at least call out bad behavior.” Monti and Laffan both stressed that the Council should not be “beyond accountability,” and that the appointment of a permanent president has been a good thing for the institution. Vidal thanked both Goulard and Laffan for answering Monti’s suggestion at length so that he could dodge it as current advisor to Pres. Michel!
 
On the topic of EU budgets, strategic action was front-and-center, but not some of the more extreme reforms like the full creation of a federal EU budget. Prof. Laffan thought a larger EU budget will be required to address present risks to the single market. But again, this conversation was quickly brought back to how to make a “European Union of citizens” who must feel fully represented in the decision-making of EU bodies, particularly if they are to take on more power and responsibility, potentially through treaty reforms.
 
Reflection #2: More Europe, but also smarter/“strategic” Europe.
This idea of “more Europe,” or even more investments of power and resources in EU institutions, is a serious policy idea, but one that is often discussed with a bit of humor these days because of how often it is brought up. While I would assume all the panelists favor “more Europe,” what was interesting was how there was an even greater focus and commonality in their responses that suggested Europe should hone in on smart and strategic decisions. Prof. Laffan decried how the word “strategic” is increasingly being used in tandem with “Europe,” but without clarity about what exactly this means in mind. In her view, strategic means having EU policy that works, has the capacity to respond to challenges, and some agility since governments are operating in a time of high risk and complexity.  
 
From Goulard’s perspective, a smart Europe would have to address the climate change and biodiversity crises first and foremost, as these are the most pressing issues. And while there are serious clashes of preferences between the member states over energy policy and the way forward in the green transition, Goulard emphasized that the EU should not become complacent on national interests.
 
Reflection #3: America was front and center, in good and bad ways.
Since geopolitical and security threats were front and center in many of this panel’s talking points, I was surprised that the US was brought up more than Russia or China (although of course both were talked about at length, and the US was framed as a perplexing ally while China and Russia were framed as rising or imminent threats). The chief negative complaint from this panel and the others about the US involved Pres. Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act (IRA) which, in heavily subsidizing green investments in the US, has weakened Europe’s competitive position in the green transition. The IRA was described by Prof. Laffan as a policy “lobbed onto the European table” and risks subsidy competition between the US and EU, which she warned against. In a good way for the EU (but not as great for the US), Vidal also reminded attendees that prices are lower in the EU than the US because of the European single market and competition policy.
         On the technology side, the US came out as a “winner” from the panel’s discussion. Goulard emphasized how twenty years ago, Europe was ahead of the US on technology, but since then the US made much more investments in tech, and now the EU lags behind the US in technology competition. Vidal went further than Goulard, stating that the EU needed to invest in tech as much as the US and China to remain competitive and maintain innovation. However, this panel happened before the SVB collapse, and I wonder if some of these positions would be more nuanced and also focus on prudential policy health if the discussions were instead held today. In any case, Prof. Laffan felt the EU-US Trade and Technology Council is a dynamic entity that allows for dialogue on technology and other investment decisions and disputes between the two unions, which is important while the European Council tries to address the future of technology in the EU.
 
These are just some of the many highlights of the masterful panel that was chaired by Prof. DeVries. Other topics included the COVID-19 response and health policy, defense policy, “strategic autonomy”, and NATO; and the energy transition, to name a few.
 
Acknowledgements
Thanks Bocconi and BLEST for hosting events like this and allowing students of all backgrounds to attend!

​I was very honored to have the chance to speak on a panel at the Ukrainian Global University’s (UGU) first annual conference as a UGU volunteer. The theme of the conference was “A straight talk about human capital development among students, co-founders, and partners” and the discussion was inspiring and uplifting, even against the sadness and heartbreak of recent strikes on Ukraine that have killed and injured civilians.
 
The UGU organizers talked about the success of the program, even in its early and initial phase last year, which saw the placement of fifty-two highly talented and advanced Ukrainian students in Western universities. A few UGU students from this first cohort talked honestly about their experiences – from making new friends and meeting new people, to being surprised how many Ukrainian societies/student organizations there are in foreign universities and cities, and some challenges that came with adapting to a new place and a new education system. Undeterred and perseverant, the students were enthusiastic about wanting to return to Ukraine and contribute to its growth and development after the war. Several expressed an interest in joining the civil service and contributing to the ministries of finance and economics. All were steadfast in wanting to learn as much as they can while abroad and teach their peers about Ukrainian culture and history, and then to come home to Ukraine and build a better future for their country.
 
It was also heartwarming to hear from academics and university administration officials that working with UGU had been a highlight of their professional careers, and that their universities were working to ensure they can take more Ukrainian students in the next year, although it is unfortunate that the program needs to continue for yet another academic cycle.
 
A few Deputy Ministers of the Ministry of the Economy and Ministry of Social Policy also spoke at the conference, and it was enlightening and interesting to hear the perspectives of those within the government. The Deputy Minister from the Ministry of the Economy spoke at length about how improving human capital during the war was vital to Ukraine being able to rebuild after the war and the economy’s ability to attract foreign capital and investment. And the representatives from the Ministry of Social Policy echoed the thoughts of the Ministry of the Economy that educational investments for today and tomorrow’s young generations are necessary to protect and strengthen Ukrainian society during and after the war. There were then some claims by the civil society representatives that the government should focus on enacting reforms now, even with the war going on, as opposed to waiting for the reconstruction efforts. Those in the government, however, pushed back and elaborated upon some reform efforts already taking place.  
 
In short, there were key points that came out of the discussions and which provide reflections and recommendations for how government and university partners can approach reconstruction, rebuilding, and investments in human capital in Ukraine.  
 
The key points:

• The UGU may become a historic outcome of the war in Ukraine, as future leaders, civil servants, innovators, thinkers, and coders may undertake part or nearly all of their education abroad before returning to help rebuild Ukraine.
• The Ukrainian government and Western academic partners need to prepare contingencies and long-term solutions for the students involved in UGU, as no one knows how long the war will last. This includes defining a system for credits to transfer back to Ukrainian universities, and for Western universities to consider the possibility that UGU students may have to undertake their entire degree work in their university system.
• Western universities can and should take in at least a few students (but hopefully more). Not only do UGU students significantly contribute to their host institutions, but investing in these students is also a promise to invest in the future of Ukraine and Ukraine’s human capital. It is a symbiotic relationship, as Western universities get exposure to the best of the best Ukrainian students, and these students in return get a great education.
• UGU students need assurances and realistic expectations about what their sectors of interest will look like after the war. If they have promised to return to Ukraine to rebuild or improve the IT sector, for example, then there need to be jobs available in IT when they come home.
• Mentorship experiences should be set up between Western and Ukrainian universities, both within and outside the UGU structure. Academics can also contribute in other ways, such as having in-person and virtual lectures for students based at Ukrainian universities.

 
If anyone reading this is interested in volunteering with UGU in the future, please reach out to Dr. Dmytro Iarovyi, other UGU organizers, or myself.
 
Acknowledgements
Thank you to the Kyiv School of Economics for the kind and gracious invitation to participate in the UGU conference. I am grateful that I was entrusted to speak on behalf of other incredible volunteers who helped with last summer’s intake of the UGU cohort.

​I was very fortunate to have an amazing visit to Rome a few weeks ago, my first in nearly five years! Since I have been a few times before, I decided to see some of the “off the beaten path” places that make Rome special to the locals and natives of Italy’s beautiful capital. One of those places is I Musei Capitolini Centrale Montemartini, an incredibly cool, niche museum located between Ostiense, Garbatella, and Monteverde in Rome. The museum is much revered among locals because it is a transformed industrial factory that now houses archeological artifacts from the Roman republic and empire.

The museum is most well-known for its “Le macchine e gli dei” (“The machines and the gods”) exhibition, which opened with the museum in 1997. Located on the top floor of the museum, and with a convenient upper staircase that lets you take in the whole industrial structure and array of storied statues; the scene makes you feel at ease, even if the disquietude of experiencing two worlds colliding should not. The exhibit is so aesthetically appealing that it seemed as if industrial engines and towering statues of Roman deities’ heads were always meant to be compared side-by-side. Of course, this is not an objective truth, and the illusion of their comparability is what makes the museum so fascinating and captivating. The old Franco Tosi boilers and pumps juxtaposed with artifacts of demigods and muses produced a spirit of bellicose tranquility: a unity of opposites.

​The museum and exhibition also reminds me of “The Divine Image” by William Blake from his Songs of Innocence (1789):
 
“To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
 
For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is God, our father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is Man, his child and care.
 
For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
 
Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace...”
 
(Credit: Poetry Foundation)

​Pity and peace could be found in Polimnia’s gaze, love and mercy in Theseus’s running stance, love and pity in Apollo’s statue, mercy and pity in volcanic Agrippina the Minor, and mercy and peace in the outline of the seated girl.
 
In addition to the incredible statues and industrial equipment, il museo has an extensive and impressive collection of ancient mosaics. The largest one by far, Mosaico con scene di caccia – Mosaic with hunting scenes, is a part of the “Le macchine e gli dei” exhibit. It was lifelike in size and features, and mind-blowing to think how much planning, design, and patience it must have taken to create an image so believable and delicate thousands of years ago.

All in all, I musei capitolini centrale montemartini was a terrific, niche find! It gave me the space and time to think about Rome in a different way, with its various history and mythologies scattered about and framed against a more modern era.
 
Other hidden gems in Rome I recommend visiting:

• The Keats-Shelley House and Museum in Rome. Visiting it took my “poetic” journey full circle! See my June 2021 blog about the Keats House in Hampstead, London for the first edition.
• La Chiesa di San Luigi dei Francesi, which houses The Calling of St. Matthew, The Inspiration of St. Matthew, and The Martyrdom of St. Matthew works by Caravaggio. The artwork is breathtaking, and the church itself is stunning. Make sure you bring a euro or two so you can pay to illuminate the Caravaggio works.
• La Chiesa di Sant’Ignazio, which is famous for its painted (instead of actual!) dome. Seriously, you have to see it for yourself to believe it, but it is very hard to tell that the church’s central dome is not real unless you are standing directly beneath it. Besides the dome, Pozzo painted incredible details on the ceiling, including representations of the continents.
• Take in a breathtaking view of Rome from Il Giardino degli Aranci or Il Campidoglio
• Eat some traditional Roman focaccia at Forno Campo de’ Fiori

 
Acknowledgements
Grazie mille to my Roman friends who took me to some great new, authentic places. There is so much to do in Rome, but I am glad I have now explored the infamous and lesser-known spots of “The Eternal City.”
 
Helpful links

• https://www.centralemontemartini.org/
• https://ksh.roma.it/
• https://eglisesfrancaisesarome.it/it/san-luigi-dei-francesi/
• https://santignazio.gesuiti.it/

 
References
Centrale Montemartini. "Storia del museo." <https://www.centralemontemartini.org/it/il_museo/storia_del_museo>. Accessed: March 4, 2023.

The Poetry Foundation. “The Divine Image.” <https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43656/the-divine-image>. Accessed: March 4, 2023.
 

Blog citation –
Nordquist, Sienna. March 14, 2023. “On visiting I musei capitolini centrale montemartini.” <siennanordquist.com/blog>.

​(Pub as in publication, not the English tavern!)

In early March, I officially got my first ever (and first solo-authored) academic article published in the Journal of Human Trafficking! This is a major milestone for me, and one I could not have accomplished without the help of countless professors, staff members, and incredibly supportive friends and family members.
 
As happens with achieving important personal goals, I have been reflecting in the past few weeks about everything the process of writing my dissertation at LSE (part of which turned into this article at the Journal of Human Trafficking) and navigating academic publishing taught me. Before this whole process began, I had only a vague idea in my head of what the conception to completion process of an academic article or paper looked like in actuality. I had been informed by professors that the timeline varies widely (usually nine months to two or three years – although there are always outliers that take even longer!), decisions by editors depend not only on the quality of your content and rigor of your research, but also publication timelines and the general direction of the journal; and the revision process necessitates an equal amount of perseverance as it does talent. While all of this information was useful and certainly steered my ability to submit my manuscript(s) at respected journals, I believe having a concrete, specific example of how a project went from an ambiguous idea to seeing it in print can be immensely beneficial in demystifying the publication process. Knowing what you’re getting yourself into (and how widely the publication experience can vary) can also set you up for reasonable, manageable expectations which keep you guided and motivated instead of demoralized. “It’s a marathon, not a sprint,” as they say at the LSE’s European Institute!
 
In the below sections, I try to provide a detailed account of everything that went into this one publication and answer some questions I myself had about a year ago today regarding how this whole wild, intimidating publication process works. Buckle up, because there’s background context, a timeline infographic, and a list of top tips!
 
Last disclosure before I begin: my dissertation was awarded a High Merit (69) and barely missed the Distinction (70+) categorization. Some students seem to believe if they don’t get a Distinction on their research paper or dissertation then it isn’t worth getting it published (tbh I was one of these students for the first 48 hours after I received my High Merit mark), but that is definitely not true. Research universities have a high bar for good marks (as they should!). As a student who has spent copious amounts of time trying to push the theory or findings of your field further, if you want to see your work published for others to build off of your findings, then go for it! Your work is meaningful because it is the product of a cumulative, scrupulous research process and you (most likely) have a fresh or needed perspective you can provide to the field. Moreover, you never know who your marker is or what their standards/points of comparison are, so put more stock in what mentors and advisors are telling you about the odds of your work getting published in a reputable journal over the individual mark. Or at least put more emphasis on what your later journal reviewers/referees say over a marker ;).
​
Background context
I completed a policy incubator dissertation at the LSE, which was a dissertation option unique to my MSc programme. The main difference was that I submitted two separate components (a Policy Brief in May of max 3,000 words and Policy Report in August of max 7,000 words) which summed to the normal LSE dissertation length of max 10,000 words. The dissertation was also more applied and policy-focused (as opposed to theoretical), as the name policy incubator implies, and the Policy Brief was geared towards a more informal audience than academia.
 
My policy incubator dissertation investigated several anti-human trafficking policy outcomes in the EU. It started with a heavily quantitative focus (due to my undergraduate research training) and required an original data collection endeavor in various ministry reports and archives. Fortunately for me, being based at LSE’s European Institute gave me access to native speakers of many different European languages – several of whom were kind enough to volunteer their time to help me translate and read through some reports. (Needless to say, even when you’re working on a solo-authored publication, the whole process takes a dream team of support.) A few months into this quantitative work, having received positive responses from various ministries around the EU inspired me to design a survey to get a deeper impression of their policy perspectives and desires for future policy solutions and reforms. This added a whole new (yet smaller) qualitative leg to my dissertation research and writing process.
 
Moreover, I realized fairly early on in my dissertation process (about early April) that I could make my policy incubator project rigorous enough to try and get it published after my time at LSE. This was a more powerful incentive than my mark (although as a highly competitive student, of course the mark was motivating me too); and once I designed and implemented my survey design, I decided to create two separate journal article manuscripts once my dissertation was completed: one which would encompass the quantitative analysis and findings, and the other which would display a critical analysis of my survey responses.
 
It was this latter manuscript (the one about the elite opinion survey) which was published earlier this month! The following timeline shows the back-and-forth process between the policy incubator project and two separate manuscripts which unfolded over time. The manuscript with my quantitative analysis was also rejected by the first journal I submitted it to and I am in the process of re-doing major parts of the analysis now, which just goes to show that in some ways this process is never-ending.
 
Background timeline
September 2020 – I started coursework at the LSE and chose the policy incubator option
December 2020/January 2021 – Conception of dissertation topic (human trafficking in the EU)
Late January 2021 – Michaelmas exams due (research papers only)
Late January/early February – Initial literature reading on human trafficking
February to September – A continuous process of finding and reading new literature
Late February/March – Data collection on quantity of human trafficking victims in the EU
Late March – Generated initial quantitative results & end of Lent courses
April 1 – LSE presentation before professors, fellow students, and some trafficking experts for initial feedback on theory + quantitative results
April to May – Double checking data collection statistics and compiling new data
Mid-April – Decided to conduct a survey amongst officials and NGOs who work on anti-trafficking policy in the EU and started draft of Policy Brief
Mid-April to Mid-May – Typed up appendices related to my intricate data collection process and survey dissemination
Mid-April to Mid-June – Heavy literature/theory writing for Policy Brief + Report
Late April – Wrote survey to send to various EU policymakers and NGOs
Early May – Received Ethics Board approval for the survey , submitted Lent research paper exam and Policy Brief
Mid-May – Sent out survey to nearly 250 individuals and organizations (I wrote individualized emails for each recipient) & double checked original quantitative dataset figures
Mid-May to mid-June – Followed up with survey recipients a maximum of 3 times before the deadline in mid-June
Late May to Mid-June – Final outstanding Michaelmas & Lent Term exams due (online written exams due to covid)
Mid-June – Collection of final survey results
Late June – Initial mapping of policymakers’ preferences based on survey responses
Early July – Finalized quantitative results for Policy Report
July – Surgery appointments with a LSE graduate student to clarify my findings and make the dissertation more robust. And lots of writing up the quant/qual analyses while making frequent edits to the Policy Report
Late July – Nearly final draft of Policy Report complete
Early August ­– (Premature) celebratory trip to Scotland!
Mid-August – Submitted policy incubator dissertation (quantitative analysis + some survey results included)
August ­– Began drafting my qualitative/survey-based paper, which became the article published in the Journal of Human Trafficking
Mid-September ­– Finished two manuscripts: one with the quantitative analysis and one with the survey analysis (which was sent to the Journal of Human Trafficking). Both manuscripts were submitted to separate academic journals
Late November – R&R decision from the Journal of Human Trafficking with comments from three reviewers
Early December – Manuscript with quantitative results is rejected after being sent out for review (albeit I did get the benefit of seeing the reviewers’ comments!) and I submit my revisions to the Journal of Human Trafficking for the survey/qualitative manuscript
Mid-January 2022 – I receive a second R&R decision from the Journal of Human Trafficking and re-submit the manuscript with my revisions within a few days (the required edits were minor)
Mid-January 2022 to present – Slowly revising my quantitative analysis manuscript to send to a different journal
February 9 – The Journal of Human Trafficking accepts my manuscript!
March 3 – My first academic article is published online!

​Why the Journal of Human Trafficking?
I chose to submit my survey results/qualitative analysis manuscript to the Journal of Human Trafficking for a couple of reasons. Most importantly, the content, direction, and interests of the Editorial Board clearly overlapped with my article. As “human trafficking” is obviously in the journal name, it is one of the best places to get research on human trafficking published, especially as a new and unknown author. While trafficking research can also fit into journals on law and economics, political science, and public policy, since my paper was not a hypothesis-testing one, I decided it was best to stick to a topic-centered journal over one designed for a broader social science field. And second, several of the articles I read for my own literature review were published in the Journal of Human Trafficking. Sending your manuscript to a journal in which several of your sources were able to successfully publish their work is a good indication the journal will also be interested in your paper. Finally, I should add I had nothing but a positive experience working with the editors at JHT throughout this process, so if you are also in the anti-human trafficking research field, consider submitting your work there sometime if it fits.
 
Was the R&R process miserable?
Not at all! Perhaps it was just beginner’s luck, but Reviewer #2 wasn’t scary. She or he provided thorough but respectful and truly constructive comments and criticism. There was nothing mean, degrading, or condescending about the process, even though academic Twitter has left me with a (likely heavily skewed) impression that a bad experience is the baseline far more than what I encountered. I also made sure I thanked the reviewers for their time, and had some specific, genuine statements about how they had helped me see things differently or in better way in my revision cover letter – which I am sure helped. Even though you have an anonymous relationship with the reviewers (if relationship is even the right word for it), being professional and courteous goes a long way, as in all relationships. And while I have no other publication experience to compare this one to, I found the process of preparing my original manuscript to be more mentally and emotionally draining than the R&R process.
 
Top 5 dissertation/publication tips for other students
     1.    Read the journal’s stylistic preferences over and over before submitting
I read the Journal of Human Trafficking’s guidelines countless times, while actively comparing them to my manuscript format, and I still had to reformat my tables after my initial submission to the editors. Takeaway: you cannot read the guidelines and stylistic preferences too many times!
     2.    Plan ahead, including building buffer time into your research schedule for editing and unexpected challenges
     3.    Take time out for self-care, reflecting, being imaginative, and celebration after it’s all done
I think my research work greatly matured between my undergraduate and graduate school years because covid and lockdown forced me to set aside time to think creatively and differently about the research questions I was trying to address. That time of free thinking (or thinking upside down in the figurative sense) was what made all the difference and can partly be attributed to my “Eureka!” moment to also included an elite opinion survey in my dissertation work.
     4.    Attend surgery or office hour appointments! (and schedule them while you’re still problem free – you’ll probably have a research problem by the time the appointment arrives)
     5.     Ask both experts and non-experts for feedback
An expert in your field or topic is likely to approach how they read your work and evaluate their arguments with a set of assumptions they have built up over time as a widely-read individual on the topic. Their criticism and ideas are highly valuable, particularly as you first approach your editing phase, but sometimes it can be equally valuable to have a non-expert pair of eyes give you their thoughts. Since they will approach your writing without initial assumptions, their prodding questions may force you to think about the fundamentals you have overlooked in your paper, or force you to think of a better and more nuanced way to defend your argument.
 
Article overview
In case you are interested in the actual findings from my survey, here is a short overview of my publication’s results: national rapporteurs in Northern EU member states are perceived to function better than those in Western and Southern member states; Southern European respondents placed the highest importance on the European Commission's Anti-Trafficking Coordinator, while Northern European respondents gave this position the lowest importance; Western and Northern European participants were most likely to agree with legalized prostitution, while Eastern European respondents were most likely to oppose it; and Council of Europe GRETA experts place the most importance on the ATC official. 
 
As this brief synopsis suggests, the survey findings in my paper encompassed attitudes and dispositions towards different types of prostitution policies (which are commonly used to address – directly or indirectly – trafficking for the purpose of sexual exploitation), perceived effectiveness of anti-trafficking national rapporteurs, views on the competencies and agenda of the European Commission and EU Anti-Trafficking Coordinator, and suggested domestic and EU-level policy solutions for the future.
 
Why am I really excited about this piece (other than the fact I can be like “omg that’s my name!” at the top)? It’s replicable! Whether it is me replicating the survey in the future to focus on a different public policy area or on anti-trafficking elite policy preferences in another region of the world, or someone else/another team of researchers, I’m glad I’ve created a blueprint for how elite opinion formation (instead of a survey experiment or public opinion analysis) can be studied and analyzed at a regional level. 
 
Thanks for reading along and let me know which tips/insights were helpful, or if you have thoughts (good, bad, or whatever is in between) about my paper.
 
 
 
Article citation –
Sienna Nordquist (2022) EU Policymaking and Anti-Human Trafficking Efforts: Inferred Policy Preferences from a New Survey, Journal of Human Trafficking, DOI: 10.1080/23322705.2022.2041339
 
Blog citation –
Nordquist, Sienna. March 22, 2022. “On getting a first pub.” <siennanordquist.com/blog>.

​About a month ago, I had the good fortune to see the National Gallery’s (London) Conversations with God exhibit. A dazzling display of the same night sky overshadowing the earth on the evening that Nicolaus Copernicus (also known as Mikołaj Kopernik) died along with Jan Matejko’s most infamous painting at the center of the room, it was a truly spectacular temporary exhibit.

Matejko is famous for his paintings and portraits of critical events and scenes in Polish history, and is one of the most revered Polish artists of his time. Well-known paintings of his include Battle of Grunwald, Kosciuszko at the Battle of Raclawice, and King Sigismund II Augustus and Barbara Radziwill. But it was Copernicus, Conversation with God (1873) that drew myself along with many other National Gallery visitors to the exhibit to learn more about Polish art and Matejko’s work in particular. Copernicus appears to be struck by both awe and fear in the painting: both as a reaction to God and to the groundbreaking, earth-shattering (no pun intended) effect of his findings. Holding what appears to be a protractor in his left hand with his notorious heliocentric diagram next to him, as well as several other astronomical tools and dense books spread at his side and feet, Matejko has made the audience feel as if they are looking not only at the soul of Copernicus, but also at all the scientific objects and learning he accumulated throughout his lifetime. The backdrop of the night sky behind Copernicus seems, to me, to be a reference to the sky and scientific field of astronomy the historic man devoted himself to. And it also demonstrates how lonely and isolating his work must have been; to have the skill and mathematical training that he possessed and know that what he discovered would likely elicit backlash or skepticism, from the Church and others. The exhibit speaks to this clash directly in relation to both Copernicus and Matejko’s lives, writing for viewers that “he [Copernicus] never broke with the Church and saw no essential contradiction between science and religion…Copernicus is Poland’s greatest intellectual hero and Matejko its most revered artist and leading patriot. His vision of Poland allowed his compatriots to understand their often troubled history, as well as their unique achievements and the role that religion, especially Catholicism, played in their lives.” Finding unison in these separate forces certainly spoke to me since both science and religion (or more properly, faith) have played a large role in my life, especially in the past five years. (jan-matejko.org 2017; Conversations with God, National Gallery 2021)

​A deep-seated ability to place science and faith together are evident throughout Copernicus’s life. Indeed, Copernicus’s career pursuits as a young man led him to be close to the Church, or at least to consider joining it. He studied law in Bologna (whose university was one of the most renowned in the western world at the time) in the hopes this would help him begin a Church career. However, young Copernicus became increasingly interested in astronomy and science and so before moving back to Poland in 1503 he first went to Padova and studied medicine. It then seems fitting that a man fascinated with Church doctrine and understanding the universe through science would be the one to use mathematical and astronomical reasoning to show that previous theories were incorrect in their assumptions about where our world stood in the universe, and by extension what it means to be human. In fact, Copernicus was not the first astronomer or mathematician to suggest that the sun is at the center of the universe, but he was the first to ‘prove’ it through mathematical rigor and scientific diagrams. The hard work and effects of time are evident on Copernicus’s face in Matejko’s masterpiece, and some of the ship’s objects appear to be rolling on the ground at his feet while the night air turns the pages of his books, as if the world was both standing still and also slowly making its rightful trip around the sun while Copernicus conversed with God on his findings. Given that Copernicus is the central character of the painting, he is relatively small, which may signify how each of us appear small and misplaced against the vastness of the universe but still at the center of God’s care (even if not the center of the universe). Maybe this is the accordance between science and theology/philosophy that Matejko meant to propose (but really, as someone who isn’t an art historian or scholar, I haven’t the faintest idea and this is purely conjecture!). (Glasgow University Library 2008)

​Also spread throughout the exhibit room were astrological instruments and one of the original copies of Copernicus’s De revolutionibus erbium coelestium (DREC). DREC contains Copernicus’s novel heliocentric diagram, as well as chapters on movement of the planets, the moon, and trigonometry. The sheer size of the astrolabe is itself astounding, but even more so when you stop and think about all of the thought and understanding about time and the stars that must have gone into crafting each device in the fifteenth century (which brings me to an unrelated recommendation to visit the British Museum’s gallery of old and antique clocks!). (Glasgow University Library 2008)

Copernicus’s journey of scientific inquiry and discovery across the European continent, in addition to the diverse origin of the astronomical tools and equipment that surrounded the painting, also demonstrate how discovery and advancement is rooted in sharing knowledge and wisdom across generations and linguistic and cultural divides. Perhaps this is an even greater takeaway than the apparent interconnection between faith and science; that searching empirically and analytically for the truth requires exposure to several disciplines and ways of doing things, along with lots of arduous work.
 
References
Conversations with God. May 21-August 22, 2021. The National Gallery; London, UK.
Glasgow University Library. 2008. “Nicolaus Copernicus: De Revolutionibus.” _____<https://www.gla.ac.uk/myglasgow/library/files/special/exhibns/month/apr2008.html>. Accessed: September 26, _____2021.
Jan-matejko.org. 2017. “Jan Matejko: The Complete Works.” <https://www.jan-matejko.org/>. Accessed: September 26, _____2021.

​Copyright © Sienna Nordquist 2021

​Lincoln’s Inn Fields
of Holborn and the WC2
how the class of 2021 will miss you
for the whole you represented,
the hole in time you filled,
and your tranquility amidst calamity.
Morning walks to the New Academic Building,
lunchtime frisbee, evening picnics,
late night pass-throughs from drinks in Covent Garden.
Humming in the Michaelmas term,
so many new arrivals, many others away at home;
silent in the Lent term,
lockdown quaking in its place;
buzzing over Easter, new hopes coming;
raucous in the summer,
a freedom of fun and anxiety in tandem.

​The tennis courts the same, the pitter patter
of a ball a small certainty in an uncertain time.
Deep breaths on the benches, one-on-one conversations
two metres apart.
New spring leaves, the yellow roses return,
Queen Elizabeth’s coronation tree sits on its throne,
yoga in the park with friends, we can hug again.
Boxers in the gazebo and signs of human strength,
graduates and their parents beaming and proud,
spread out commencements but dreams filled and lived.
Rain in autumn, rain in winter,
rain in spring, and rain in summer,
the pavement around the four quadrants
looks pebbled, stony, and ancient with thunderous downpours,
and yet modern and sleek in the drizzling rain,
a good adjoining counterpart to the new Marshall Building,
started and finished before the pandemic’s expiry date.

​Resting, sitting, dreaming,
wondering, connecting, and maybe crying,
healing through the seasons,
even when the previous wound was not yet a faded scar.
The air and trees and the breeze
kept us sane while LSE kept us safe.
Lucky in the end, we met friends,
saw a few professors’ faces,
fell in love with our campus,
loved and supported its people
even more.
The lawn of your inns became
ever more crowded,
as we waded out and
stepped our toes back in
to this world we can only hope to change
for the better –
 as you did to us through one another.