Right. This one requires a bit of explanation. But first, I discovered yesterday the precise terminology of something that gets me rather excited: toponymy, the study of place names. My particular strain of toponymyphilia (ok, that word I completely made up) is focused on, but not limited to, street names (as you may have already noticed). But back to the subject at hand:
A brand-new exhibition at Centrale Montemartini, un unususal museum that displays ancient Roman sculpture with a backdrop of early industrial age machinery, has been planned to coincide with the tenth anniversary of the tragic events of September 11th.
The exhibit, entitled Cities of New York, is presented in two distinct sections, the first with photographs by New Yorker Allan Tannenbaum taken in the aftermath of September 11th, as well as paintings by Susan Crile inspired by Ground Zero.
Even more inspiring perhaps is the bold photographic exhibition upstairs that focuses instead on New York's diversity, beauty and resilience, featuring the works of nine wonderfully contrasting Italian photographers over the past 15 years. A few of my favorites: Gabriele Croppi's arresting black and whites spotlight an average New Yorker with the pulsating city as a backdrop. Olimpia Ferrari finds double inspiration from New York's churches and works of classical music, superimposing distorted written music over photographs of the city's most awe-inspiring places of worship.
Since the exhibit is not extensive, you can easily explore the rest of the fascinating museum before or after. It is most certainly not to be missed! See Exhibits on in Rome page for pratical information.
The downside of working in an Italian office: your boss makes fun of you for how pale you are at the end of summer, showing off his chocolate colored arm in comparison to your yogurt-colored one.
The upside of working in an Italian office: he does this by singing a 1959 hit single by the one-and-only, inimitable Mina, and you and your officemates sing Italian pop songs from the 60s for the rest of the afternoon.
Here are some of the lyrics, and I must admit, they do seem to apply to me:
Abbronzate, tutte chiazze,
Pellirosse un pò paonazze
son le ragazze che prendono il sol,
Ma ce ne una che prende la luna!
Tintarella di luna!
Tintarella color latte!
Tutta notte sopra il tetto,
Sopra il tetto con i gatti,
E se c'è la luna piena,
Tu diventi candida!
I tried translating this into English, but it is so silly (like so many Italian songs, unfortuanately), that I just can't bear to do it. For those of you who don't read Italian, it's basically a song about a girl who, instead of taking the sun and getting all splotchy and red-faced like most girls, takes the moon instead. She lies on the roof all night long so her skin is as white as milk, and when there's a full moon, she becomes white as snow...
Today is the day all the little ones in Italy are heading back to school. Such an exciting time. A time of new backpacks, mechanical pencils and crisp blank notebooks just waiting to be filled up. A time to wonder what your new teacher will be like, if you'll get to be in the same class as your best friend, and what new friends you might make. Ah, those were the days.
Well, guess what? I'm going back too! Well, not exactly back to elementary school, although that would be fun too.
It's been a long time since I've been a student. In fact, it's nearly a decade since I finished graduate school! Yikes! Now, I haven't decided to go back to university (I kind of swore I would never do that again, but actually, never say never), but I am taking a course. A pretty in-depth course by the look of it. I won't go into the whys and wheres of it, but it will cover Roman history, from ancient to present as well as Italian Art History, and specifically works of art found in Rome. As you might have guessed, this course was made for me, and I absolutely can't wait for my first day: today!
The course meets four times a week for the next three months, so I'm warning you now that this blog may get a touch history-heavy for the time being. My plan is to post about every bi-weekly lesson and every bi-weekly visit, in order to make sure I am fully absorbing everything. Hopefully you'll bear with me, and come along as I learn even more about my favorite subject in the world: Roma.
According to news reports, early yesterday morning, the Fontana del Moro (Fountain of the Moor), the southernmost of the three fountains in Piazza Navona, was attacked and severely damaged. Surveillance cameras nearby recorded a middle-aged man climbing into the fountain and violently smashing a stone ten times against the figures decorating one of the four maschere (masks) that grace the fountain. Three pieces broke off, but luckily were not stolen, but fell into the water of the fountain. A tourist nearby noticed not the attack itself, but the marble pieces in the water and alerted the vigili, but by that time, the culprit had fled.
Before:
After:
The Fontana del Moro was originally conceived by the great fountain designer Giacomo della Porta in 1574, but many of the sculptures were added by Bernini in 1653. Luckily, when the fountain was restored in 1874, the original sculptures by Bernini were removed for safekeeping, and replaced with copies. Because the pieces have not been lost, the fountain is expected to be thoroughly restored.
But the story doesn't end there: just a few hours later, around 3pm, surveillance cameras spotted a seemingly identical man climb up onto the base of the monumental Trevi fountain and hurl a sanpietrino (Roman cobblestone) at one of its travertine figures. Luckily, he missed and the stone landed harmlessly in the water. The culprit was able to escape into the crowd, but authorities are almost certain it was the same man.
As expected, politicians are coming out to condemn the act, using phrases like "act of folly" and "great offence to our city." The opposition is taking advantage of the opportunity to criticize the current mayor, saying "In Alemanno's Rome, there are no longer rules", and "Rome is out of control, from the legal point of view."
I can't help but agree, particularly when it comes to petty crime and Romans' seeming disregard for traffic, parking, littering, vandalism and other basic civic laws. (These are the things I, as an ordinary resident, witness on a daily basis so they are more prominent in my consciousness.) But then again, can you blame the locals for not obeying laws that are almost never enforced? There is talk of a crack-down on acts of vandalism and it would be about time. The graffiti alone is a shameful example of the city's complaisance, but I wonder if anything will actually change.
To add insult to injury, a twenty-year-old American tourist was caught digging outside the Colosseum last night, on the Via Labicana side, collecting ancient fragments of the monument to take home as souvenirs. He was quickly apprehended, but is not the same man who went on a fountain-vandalising spree earlier. Maybe, in light of the day's events, he thought Rome was a free-for-all, with the city's greatest treasures just there for the taking (or the destroying). The city was, after all, founded on fratricide and abduction. Vandalism doesn't seem quite so bad by comparison.
"Why is it, when I am in Rome,
I'd give an eye to be at home,
But when on native earth I be,
My soul is sick for Italy?
And why with you, my love, my lord,
Am I spectacularly bored,
Yet do you up and leave me-- then
I scream to have you back again?"
Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)
This woman just got it. Perennially unlucky in love, she made light of her disappointment, never taking herself too seriously, and made us all laugh along with her. Short, sweet, with clever rhymes and immaculate meter, her poems are unmistakable, tripping of the tongue with a delightful cadence. Dorothy was sarcastic, witty and cynical to the extreme, but with such a charming touch of wistfulness and playfulness, you can't help but love her. And I can't imagine there's a woman alive who couldn't identify with her.
Here is one of my favorites:
"Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never go wrong; And I am Marie of Romania."
Or how about this one?
"Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.
Four be the things I'd been better without:
Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt.
Three be the things I shall never attain:
Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.
Three be the things I shall have till I die:
Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye."
When asked at the Algonquin Round Table to discuss Horticulture, she declared: "You can lead a whore-to-culture, but you can't make her think."
Lastly, I present the very first Dorothy quote I ever heard. When I was growing up, our fantastic next door neighbor loved to quote it. I never knew who had said it until a close friend introduced me to the inimitable Ms. Parker. I advise you memorize it; it'll make you the hit of any party:
"I love a martini, but two at the most: with three I'm under the table, with four I'm under my host."
Once again I will be skipping my weekly history post, but for a very good reason. Today is the 29th of the month, that is, my third wedding month-iversary. In honor of this incredibly important occasion [insert tongue in cheek here], I am going to go slightly off-topic.
In a scene from one of the greatest films ever made, (in fact it is my all time favorite film, and has been since I was twelve years old) two English gentlemen, a vicar and a young unmarried man, are walking through a field in Surrey, talking about fate. They had previously met by chance in Florence, and their paths have once again crossed, by happenstance, it seems, in the south of England.
Vicar: Coincidence is much rarer than we suppose. For example, it's not coincidental that you're here now, when one comes to reflect on it.
Young man: I have reflected. It's fate. Everything is fate.
V: You have not reflected at all! Let me cross examine you. Where did you meet Mr. Vyse, who will marry Miss Honeychurch?
YM: The National Gallery.
V: Looking at Italian Art! You see, and you talk of coincidence and fate! You're naturally drawn to things Italian, as are we and all our friends, aren't we, Freddie? That narrows the field immeasurably!
YM: It is fate, but call it Italy if it pleases you, Vicar.
What the Vicar doesn't know is that the young man in question is passionately in love with the soon-to-be-married Miss Honeychurch, and by the end of the film...well, I won't spoil it for those of you who haven't seen it (even though I consider that a heinous crime to be remedied immediately!)
As it turns out, both men were right! I heartily agree with young Mr. Emerson that everything is dictated by fate; that tiny, seemingly insignificant steps lead us to our destiny. (What can I say? I'm a romantic.) Yet the Vicar was correct as well, at least for me, as so much of my life's path has been steering me toward Italy, and I think it safe to say that I too am drawn to all things Italian. I must have grasped somehow at age 12 that this film would have a great impact on my life, because I became obsessed with it, and my father loves to remind me that I had the entire screenplay memorized and would recite it to anyone who would listen.
Why am I telling you all this? Because I've decided to start a new feature on the blog. Every 29th of the month I will be writing about little details of my wedding. (Don't worry! This is not and will never be a wedding blog! I promise only to recount details of an artistic, musical, historic or anecdotal nature.) What does my wedding have to do with this film? Well, more than you might guess. It is an odd story that starts with my great-great-grandmother in 1861, and follows her daughter to Florence at the turn of the century, and ends 150 years later with a wonderful friend singing a Puccini aria on a rooftop in Rome. But of course, that was really just the beginning. Stay tuned!
Rome ever get you down? You are not alone! It's not easy to live (or even be a tourist in, sometimes) this city. I hear my fellow expatriates (myself included) complain often about any number of frustrating things about this crazy city, from the bureaucracy nightmares to the dishonest cab drivers and everything in between. But for so many of us, something connects us with this city, often something we can't describe. Many long-time expats will leave the city, exasperated beyond remedy and--not all--but many cannot help returning eventually. Apparently this love/hate relationship so many of us have with Rome is nothing new. In fact, Nathaniel Hawthorne (a distant relation on my father's side) wrote what I consider possibly the greatest quotation on Rome ever written. Make sure you read to the end! (It's only one sentence, after all.)
"When we have once known Rome, and left her where she lies, like a long-decaying corpse, retaining a trace of the noble shape it was, but with accumulated dust and a fungous growth overspreading all its more admirable features--left her, in utter weariness, no doubt, of her narrow, crooked, intricate streets, so uncomfortably paved with little squares of lava that to tread over them is a penitential pilgrimage; so indescribably ugly, moreover so cold, so alley-like, into which the sun never falls, and where a chill wind forces its deadly breath into our lungs--left her, tired of the sight of those immense seven-storied, yellow-washed hovels, or call them palaces, where all that is dreary in domestic life seems magnified and multiplied, and weary of climbing those staircases, which ascend from a ground floor of cook-shops, cobblers' stalls, stables and regiments of cavalry, to a middle region of princes, cardinals, and ambassadors, and an upper tier of artists, just beneath the unattainable sky--left her, worn out with shivering at the cheerless and smoky fireside by day, and feasting with our own substance the ravenous population of a Roman bed at night--left her, sick at heart of Italian trickery, which has uprooted whatever faith in man's integrity had endured till now, and sick at stomach of sour bread, sour wine, rancid butter and bad cookery, needlessly bestowed on evil meats--left her, disgusted with the pretense of holiness and the reality of nastiness, each equally omnipresent--left her, half lifeless from the languid atmosphere, the vital principle of which has been used up long ago or corrupted by myriads of slaughters--left her, crushed down in spirit by the desolation of her ruin, and the hopelessness of her future--left herein short, hating her with all our might, and adding our individual curse to the infinite anathema which her old crimes have unmistakably brought down--when we have left Rome in such a mood as this we are astonished by the discovery, by and by, that our heartstrings have mysteriously attached themselves to the Eternal City, and are drawing us thitherward again, as if it were more familiar, more intimately our home, than even the spot where we were born."
Excerpt from The Marble Faun, by Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1860.
Recently, Travel & Leisure Magazine came up with this year's World's Best Awards. Their readers rank everything from cities to hotels, spas and airlines, by region and worldwide. This was released back in July, but as usual, I'm a little out of the loop. It's hard to keep your finger on the pulse of the world when you live in eternally laid-back Rome.
Here are the top 10 cities:
Bangkok
Florence
Rome
New York
Istanbul
Cape Town
Siem Reap (Cambodia)
Sydney
Barcelona
Paris
Cities were judged based on sights, culture/arts, restaurants/food, people, shopping and value.
All I can say is:
Bangkok?
(long pause)
Really?
I mean... really? I've been to Bangkok and its definitely a cool city. It has lots of brightly colored temples, giant reclining buddhas, really good cheap massage, and incredible hotels at unbelievably low prices. The people are, for the most part, very friendly. If you like Thai food, then the food is amazing. There's a floating market and lots of gritty little back alleys with street food that costs pennies, and you can zip around in rickshaws, or if you're a little more daring, on motorcycle taxis. I had a thoroughly enjoyable time and would happily go back.
But to win Best City? And this is the second year in a row? I don't get it. As Asian cities go I infinitely preferred Mumbai, Singapore and Penang. And Thailand, as a country, offers many more spectacular sights than their capital city: the jungles, the beaches, the breath-taking rocky islands jutting out of the sea. If I only had a week in Thailand, I wouldn't spend more than a day in Bangkok. It makes me wonder if people didn't vote for Bangkok just to try to be edgy. Nope, I just don't buy it.
And Rome is third? Third behind Florence and Bangkok. Florence I can understand. It's the cradle of the Renaissance for goodness sake, and for art lovers it doesn't get much better. (I was obsessed with Florence when I was an adolescent but that is a story for another post.) But still (and I may be slightly biased here) it doesn't hold a candle to Rome. No city does, in my opinion. I mean this is a city where you can see SIX Caravaggio paintings for free! Where churches that, in almost any other city would be the number one tourist attraction, are not even touched on by the average tourist because there are too many other things to see. There are ancient ruins just lying about on the street because there's no room for them in any of the city's dozens of museums.
If Rome had come in 10th behind, let's say, New York, London, Sydney, San Francisco, Paris, Amsterdam, Prague, Stockholm and Buenos Aires, I would have been more okay with that, than with it coming in behind Bangkok.
But, hey, I could be wrong. Maybe I didn't see enough of Bangkok when I was there. If you know the city well, please comment and let me know what I missed.
