7 Best Sights in Around the Duomo, Florence

This building started out in the Middle Ages as the headquarters for the capitano del popolo (captain of the people) and was later a prison. It now contains the Museo Nazionale, which has one of Italy's finest collections of Renaissance sculpture. The remarkable masterpieces by Michelangelo (1475–1564), Donatello (circa 1386–1466), and Benvenuto Cellini (1500–71) are distributed amid an eclectic collection of arms, ceramics, and miniature bronzes, among other things.

In 1401, Filippo Brunelleschi (1377–1446) and Lorenzo Ghiberti (circa 1378–1455) competed to earn the most prestigious commission of the day: the decoration of the north doors of the Baptistery in Piazza del Duomo. For the contest, each designed a bronze bas-relief panel depicting the sacrifice of Isaac; the panels are displayed together in the room devoted to the sculpture of Donatello, on the upper floor. According to Ghiberti, the judges chose him, though Brunelleschi maintained that they were both hired for the commission. See who you believe after visiting.

The octagonal Baptistery is one of the supreme monuments of the Italian Romanesque style and one of Florence's oldest structures. Local legend has it that it was once a Roman temple dedicated to Mars (it wasn't), and modern excavations suggest that its foundations date from the 1st century AD. The round Romanesque arches on the exterior date from the 11th century, and the interior dome mosaics from the beginning of the mid-13th century are justly renowned, but—glittering beauties though they are—they could never outshine the building's famed bronze Renaissance doors decorated with panels crafted by Lorenzo Ghiberti. Copies of the doors on which Ghiberti worked (1403–52) most of his adult life are on the north and east sides of the Baptistery (to protect them from pollution and acid rain, the original doors were moved to the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo, where they're now on display). The Gothic panels on the south door were designed by Andrea Pisano (circa 1290–1348) in 1330.

Ghiberti's north doors depict scenes from the life of Christ; his later east doors (1425–52), facing the Duomo facade, render scenes from the Old Testament. Both merit close examination, for they are very different in style and illustrate the artistic changes that marked the beginning of the Renaissance. Look at the far right panel of the middle row on the earlier (1403–24) north doors (Jesus Calming the Waters). Here, Ghiberti captured the chaos of a storm at sea with great skill and economy. The artistic conventions he used, however, are basically pre-Renaissance: Jesus is the most important figure, so he is the largest; the disciples are next in size, being next in importance; the ship on which they founder looks like a mere toy.

The exquisitely rendered panels on the east doors are larger, more expansive, more sweeping—and more convincing. The middle panel on the left-hand door tells the story of Jacob and Esau, and the various episodes of the story—the selling of the birthright, Isaac ordering Esau to go hunting, the blessing of Jacob, and so forth—have been merged into a single beautifully realized street scene. Ghiberti's use of perspective suggests depth: the background architecture looks credible, the figures in the foreground are grouped realistically, and the naturalism and grace of the poses (look at Esau's left leg and the dog next to him) have nothing to do with the sacred message being conveyed. Although the religious content remains, the figures and their place in the natural world are given new prominence and are portrayed with a realism not seen in art since the fall of the Roman Empire nearly a thousand years before.

As a footnote to Ghiberti's panels, one small detail of the east doors is worth a special look. To the lower left of the Jacob and Esau panel, Ghiberti placed a tiny self-portrait bust. From either side, the portrait is extremely appealing—Ghiberti looks like everyone's favorite uncle—but the bust is carefully placed so that you can make direct eye contact with the tiny head from a single spot. When that contact is made, the impression of intelligent life—of modern intelligent life—is astonishing. It's no wonder that these doors received one of the most famous compliments in the history of art from an artist known to be notoriously stingy with praise: Michelangelo declared them so beautiful that they could serve as the Gates of Paradise.

In 1296, Arnolfo di Cambio (circa 1245–1310) was commissioned to build "the loftiest, most sumptuous edifice human invention could devise" in the Romanesque style on the site of the old church of Santa Reparata. The immense Duomo was consecrated in 1436, but work continued over the centuries. The imposing facade dates only from the 19th century; its neo-Gothic style somewhat complements Giotto's genuine Gothic 14th-century campanile. The real glory of the Duomo, however, is Filippo Brunelleschi's dome, presiding over the cathedral with a dignity and grace that few domes to this day can match.

Brunelleschi's cupola was an ingenious engineering feat. The space to be enclosed by the dome was so large and so high above the ground that traditional methods of dome construction—wooden centering and scaffolding—were of no use whatsoever. So Brunelleschi developed entirely new building methods, including a novel scaffolding system, that he implemented with equipment of his own design. Beginning work in 1420, he built not one dome but two, one inside the other, and connected them with ribbing that stretched across the intervening empty space, thereby considerably lessening the crushing weight of the structure. He also employed a new method of bricklaying, based on an ancient herringbone pattern, interlocking each course of bricks with the course below in a way that made the growing structure self-supporting.

The result was one of the great engineering breakthroughs of all time: most of Europe's later domes, including that of St. Peter's in Rome, were built employing Brunelleschi's methods, and today the Duomo has come to symbolize Florence in the same way that the Eiffel Tower symbolizes Paris. The Florentines are justly proud of it, and to this day the Florentine phrase for "homesick" is nostalgia del cupolone (homesick for the dome).

The interior is a fine example of Florentine Gothic. Although much of the cathedral's best-known art has been moved to the nearby Museo dell'Opera del Duomo, notable among the works that remain are two massive equestrian frescoes, both on the left nave, that honor famous soldiers: Niccolò da Tolentino, painted in 1456 by Andrea del Castagno (circa 1419–57), and Sir John Hawkwood, painted 20 years earlier by Paolo Uccello (1397–1475).

A 1995 restoration repaired the dome and cleaned the vastly crowded fresco of the Last Judgment, executed by Giorgio Vasari (1511–74) and Zuccaro, on its interior. Originally Brunelleschi wanted mosaics to cover the interior of the great ribbed cupola, but by the time the Florentines got around to commissioning the decoration, 150 years later, tastes had changed. The climb to the top of the dome (463 steps) is not for the faint of heart, but the view is superb. Admission to the Duomo is free; there is, however, an entrance fee for the cupola (included in some combo tickets), and timed-entry reservations to visit it are required.

The venerable Uffizi Gallery occupies two floors of the U-shape Palazzo degli Uffizi, designed by Giorgio Vasari (1511–74) in 1560 to hold the uffici (administrative offices) of the Medici Grand Duke Cosimo I (1519–74).

Among the highlights is the Battle of San Romano by Paolo Uccello (1397–1475). Gloriously restored in 2012, its brutal chaos of lances is one of the finest visual metaphors for warfare ever captured in paint. Equally noteworthy is the Madonna and Child with Two Angels in which Fra Filippo Lippi (1406–69) depicts eye contact established by the angel that would have been unthinkable prior to the Renaissance. In Sandro Botticelli's (1445–1510) Birth of Venus, the goddess seems to float in the air, and in his Primavera, a fairy-tale charm demonstrates the painter's idiosyncratic genius at its zenith.

Other significant works include the portraits of the Renaissance duke Federico da Montefeltro and his wife, Battista Sforza, by Piero della Francesca (circa 1420–92); Raphael's (1483–1520) Madonna of the Goldfinch, which is distinguished by the brilliant blues of the sky and the eye contact between mother and child, both clearly anticipating the painful future; Michelangelo's Doni Tondo; the Venus of Urbino by Titian (circa 1488/90–1576); and the splendid Bacchus by Caravaggio (circa 1571/72–1610). In the last two works, the approaches to myth and sexuality are diametrically opposed (to put it mildly).

Late in the afternoon is the least crowded time to visit. For a €4 fee, advance tickets (recommended) can be reserved by phone, online, or, once in Florence, at the Uffizi's reservation booths ( Uffizi presale booth, Piazza Pitti  055/294883), at least one day in advance of your visit. Keep the confirmation number, and take it with you to the door marked "reservations." In the past, you were ushered in almost immediately. But overbooking (especially in high season) has led to long lines and long waits even with a reservation. Taking photographs in the Uffizi is illegal, and this has contributed to making what ought to be a sublime museumgoing experience more like a day at the zoo.

A seven-year restoration, completed in 2015, gave Florence one of its most modern, up-to-date museums. The exhibition space was doubled, and the old facade of the cathedral, torn down in the 1580s, was re-created with a 1:1 relationship to the real thing. Both sets of Ghiberti's doors adorn the same room. Michelangelo's Pietà finally has the space it deserves, as does Donatello's Mary Magdalene.

Here, in 1497 and 1498, the famous "bonfire of the vanities" took place, when the fanatical Dominican friar Savonarola induced his followers to hurl their worldly goods into the flames. It was also here, a year later, that he was hanged as a heretic and, ironically, burned. A plaque in the piazza pavement marks the spot of his execution.

Cellini's famous bronze Perseus, shown holding the severed head of Medusa, is among the most important sculptures in the Loggia dei Lanzi. Also noteworthy are The Rape of the Sabine Women and Hercules and the Centaur, both late-16th-century works by Giambologna (1529–1608). But it's the Neptune Fountain, created between 1550 and 1575 by Bartolomeo Ammannati, that dominates the square. The Florentines call it "il Biancone," which may be translated as "the big white man" or "the big white lump." Giambologna's equestrian statue, to the left of the fountain, portrays Grand Duke Cosimo I. Occupying the steps of the Palazzo Vecchio is a copy of Michelangelo's David, as well as Baccio Bandinelli's Hercules.

This charmingly simple bridge was built in 1345 to replace an earlier one that was swept away by a flood. Its shops first housed butchers, then grocers, blacksmiths, and other merchants. But, in 1593, the Medici grand duke Ferdinand I (1549–1609), whose private corridor linking the Medici palace (Palazzo Pitti) with the Medici offices (the Uffizi) crossed the bridge atop the shops, decided that all this plebeian commerce under his feet was unseemly. So he threw out the butchers and blacksmiths and installed 41 goldsmiths and eight jewelers. The bridge has been devoted solely to these two trades ever since.

Take a moment to study the Ponte Santa Trinita, the next bridge downriver. It was designed by Bartolomeo Ammannati in 1567 (probably from sketches by Michelangelo), blown up by the retreating Germans during World War II, and painstakingly reconstructed after the war. The view from the Ponte Santa Trinita is also beautiful, which might explain why so many young lovers hang out there.