Roberta Reports From Italy
March, 2005

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Welcome to March in Italy! I wonder if the English expression about this month's tendency to “come in like a lion" and “go out like a lamb" applies to Italy? I do hope so. The weather has been startlingly cold, with lots of snow, and some of the lowest seasonal temperatures for over 200 years. Which is not that low compared to some places…. but you know what I mean.

Anyway, I have been out and about on your behalf, and have found plenty of news. There's a couple of exhibitions, some books to look out for, a recipe to try, and a theater that is worth seeing whether there is a performance scheduled or not. We start, though, with a place I am curious to see.

As I have probably mentioned before, I have never been to Sicily. I keep finding more reasons to go, though. I knew that the Valley of the Temples was one place to see in Agrigento. However, I did not know about the Vulcanelli di Macalube, some 30 kilometers north. I love all those funny volcanic features. Not that I would be too crazy to be involved in a full-scale volcano erupting. Nor would I wish it on anyone else, to be sure. But these little hints of "what lies beneath" are just fascinating. As the name suggests, these are little volcanoes. Indeed, they appear to be about one meter high, and there are quite a few of them. They bubble about every 10 seconds, and warm clay pours out, shaping and changing the landscape, over and over again. Moreover, as the clay hardens over time, cracks form to create a hexagon-shaped pattern. Click here for information about this protected nature park.

I have read about something similar in Tuscany, near Siena, but I will have to look it up and let you know.

A few days ago, I was flicking through Io Donna, the magazine that comes free with the Saturday edition of the Corriere della Sera, and found some pasta recipes that looked very appetizing. And quick. And simple. Here's one for spaghetti with zucchine (which is Italian for zucchini, as if you didn't know) and ricotta. The ingredients to serve four people are: 350 grams of spaghetti, 500 grams of zucchine, 200 grams of ricotta, two tablespoons of olive oil, two cloves of garlic, grated pecorino or parmesan cheese, basil, salt and pepper.

Put the ricotta in a large bowl and crush to a creamy consistency. Thinly slice the zucchine. Chop the basil. Heat the oil in a large pan, and add the garlic. Make it imbiondire, as the Italians say, or go a golden-yellow color, and then discard. Add the zucchine, turn up the heat and cook, turning often so they brown. Meanwhile, cook the spaghetti. When it has achieved the consistency preferred, drain and add to the zucchine in the pan. Stir to mix, and then transfer the whole lot to the large bowl and mix again. Call everyone to the table. Add grated cheese, pepper, and chopped basil to taste. Serve immediately.

If asked, most Italians would name Giacomo Leopardi as one of their favorite poets. His L'infinito, written in 1819, is taught in school, and is short enough to be remembered over the years. Addressing the way we strive to go beyond our limitations, the poem refers to a specific place in Recanati, the town in the Marches area of central Italy where the poet was born and where he spent much of his early life. This location, the ermo colle, or Monte Tabor as it is called on maps, can be seen today. Indeed, it can be seen right this minute if you click here. And in very special circumstances, under the effect of the recent heavy snowfall. Quite unusual, and very picturesque.

Milan has been over-run with fashion people for the last three weeks. More over-run than usual, I mean. This time we got everyone else's, as well as our own. First it was Men's Week, and then it was Women's Week. Everyone who was anyone was rushing from show to show except for yours truly, who never seems to get invited to any of them. And when she does, she doesn't go.

What I will probably go to, however, is an exhibition at the Rotonda della Besana, which features fashion photography from 1951 to the present day. Called Lo Sguardo Italiano. Fotografie di moda dal 1951 a oggi, the exhibition is organized by the Fondazione Pitti Immagine Discovery, and runs to March 20 (Tuesday-Sunday 10:30am-5:30pm, at Via Besana 12). Why 1951? Because that was the year of Italy's first international-scale runway shows -- in Florence, not Milan. At Palazzo Pitti, since you ask. Which explains the involvement of Pitti Immagine, the body charged with promoting that city's fashion industry. The work of more than 70 photographers is on display. The catalogue is by Skira, and promises to be a wonderful gift for anyone interested in fashion, Italy, and the 1950s, or any combination of the above.

If you are a fan of the ‘50s, then another exhibition in Milan will be of interest. Opening on March 4 and running to July 3, Annicinquanta at Palazzo Reale covers the period from the elections of April 1948, which marked the return of "normality" to the country post-WWII, right through to the Olympic Games in Rome in 1960. While the exhibition runs to 700 items, the show starts even before you walk in, for out on the street between the Duomo and the ex-royal palace will be a locomotive of the train known as the "Settebello," its sleek lines typical of the design of the day. Rather smaller in scale, but no less eye-catching, will be a FIAT 500, as well as an Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint, and a Lancia Aurelia.

The exhibition itself consists of four sections. The first covers Architecture as well as Design. The architects include Ignazio Gardella, Luigi Caccia Dominioni, and Gio Ponti, while the designers go from Franco Albini, Marco Zanuso, Carlo Mollino, through the brothers Giacomo and Achille Castiglioni to Bruno Munari. In the Art and Graphic Design section, expect to see works by Lucio Fontana, Renato Guttuso, Ennio Morlotti, Emilio Vedova, Alberto Burri, Piero Manzoni, Enrico Baj, and Enrico Castellani, as well as the output of leading grafici, including Albe Steiner, Franco Grignani, Eugenio Carmi, and Michele Provinciali. While Photography is paired with Fashion, here we are asked to see the two in contrast. The images produced by, among others, Mario Giacomelli, Giuseppe Cavalli, Pietro Donzelli, and Mario De Biasi show us the process by which the country shifted from an agricultural economy to an industrial powerhouse. And when several million people moved from one end of the country to the other. Light years from the pictures of the atelier of the Sorelle Fontana and the "ladies who lunched." More comparing and contrasting in the final section: Cinema and TV. For, while Vittorio De Sica, Cesare Zavattini, Roberto Rossellini, and Carlo Lizzani were applying their Neorealist gaze to what was happening in the country, Italian TV (which began broadcasting in 1954) presented a more carefree approach, one example being the San Remo Song Festival. Lots of lovely frocks, pretty sets, and melodic tunes. And staying power, for even though it will be over by the time you read this, the San Remo Festival Della Canzone Italiana, 2005 vintage will have kept the Italians amused, entertained, and if nothing else, glued to the box for five whole days.

By the way, San Remo itself is a pretty little resort on the coast of Liguria about fifty kilometers from the French border. The home of writer Italo Calvino, it is famed for its casino, as well as its wonderfully mild climate. Some friends were there for New Year's Eve, and report that they were walking around in T-shirts!

For the rest of us, T-shirt weather seems to be a long way off. The snow is still making life a little more challenging than usual, let's say. It certainly put an unusual twist on the press preview of the exhibition on Palladio in Vicenza, which I told you about in my November letter. Everything had been so well prepared, with regular mailings on what was being done, and I was looking forward to seeing everything in its place. OK, there's often last-minute adjustments being made the day before the grand opening. But, this time, thanks to the previous day's snowstorm that had pretty much brought the entire country to a standstill, there was a lot still to do. Like unloading and setting up truckloads of paintings, artifacts, models, and other items. Everyone was working flat out.

The courtyard, where visitors will be able to construct their own model of a Palladian villa, was full of snow, slush, crates, planks, tools, and workmen. I did get to see the exhibit, what I could of it, even though there was a proviso that, when the paintings arrived, I was to be shooed out because the insurance policy states that there should be no strangers in the area. As it is, this did not happen, because the pictures had obviously not arrived by the time I left. Although I cannot say I saw the exhibition as it will be, I saw enough to know that it is magnificent. I will certainly go back before it closes on July 3.

And what is it? Well, it's called Andrea Palladio e la villa veneta da Petrarca a Carlo Scarpa. Illustrating this unique concept of country living, the handsomely-designed and lavishly-decorated country house, which was always also a working farm -- the show includes 300 works from over 50 museums and galleries worldwide. These include the Accademia Carrara in Bergamo, the Como city art gallery, the city museum of Treviso, the Brera Gallery in Milan, the Uffizi in Florence. Other loans come from, among others, the National Gallery in London, and Hopetoun House at Linlithgow in Scotland. Works range from paintings by Veronese, Titian, Tintoretto, Guercino, Jacopo Bassano, and Lambert Sustris, as well as drawings by Raphael, Giulio Romano, Tiepolo, and Palladio himself. The exhibition is being held at the Museo Palladio, which is located in Palazzo Barbaran da Porto in Vicenza. Visitors will, of course, be encouraged to visit the villas. Indeed, the ticket price includes admission to Villa Valmarana ai Nani near Vicenza, Villa Emo at Fanzolo, Villa Badoer at Fratta Polesine, Villa Caldogno at Caldogno, and Villa Contarini at Piazzola. You will also be able to see Petrarch's house at Acquà, which dates from the early 1370s, and Carlo Scarpa's funerary monument for the Brion family at Altivole, built in the early 1970s, being, as the exhibition title tells us, the start- and end-points of this exploration of the work of Palladio, the great Renaissance architect. Tickets are 10 Euro for one day, 16 Euro for three, and 20 Euro for seven. The exhibition is open daily, including Mondays, the traditional day when museums close in Italy. Times are 9:30am to 6:30pm, from Monday to Thursday, and 9:30am to 8pm, Friday to Sunday, and national holidays. For more information, click here.

Back to me, on a snowy Friday in early March in Vicenza. Post-exhibit, I spent a couple of hours looking round the city. Including the Teatro Olimpico. Commissioned in 1579 by the Accademia Olimpica, a cultural association in the city, this theatre was Palladio's last work. Indeed, he died just one year later, and the work was completed by his pupil Vincenzo Scamozzi. And it is a marvel. The elaborate stucco-work of the proscenium includes classic columns and niches featuring the figures of the academicians whose idea the theatre was. Which is dramatic enough. But the stage! It's a reproduction – in perfect perspective – of five roads leading down into a piazza. Lined with buildings, it all looks life-size, with the main street giving the impression of being one hundred meters long, at least, while it is really only fifteen. Originally designed as the set for the inaugural show, Sophocles' Oedipus Tyrannus, it then became permanent, which is our great good fortune. The Teatro Olimpico is part of UNESCO's list of World Heritage sites, and rightly so. Do take a peek when you are in Vicenza.

I then walked back through the center of town, pausing to look at the Basilica (1549). Despite its name, it is not a church at all, but was designed as a meeting place in the central piazza for the city's nobles. The elevation is Palladio's masterpiece: two galleries of columns, Tuscan Doric below and Ionic above.

And then I came home, taking the Swiss Railways' Cisalpino express that plies the Venice-Geneva route daily, stopping in Vicenza and Milan. I had to pay an extra 3 Euros on top of my Intercity train ticket because I did not have a seat reservation. But that seemed a small price for a super-comfortable ride, with complimentary newspapers, and a general feeling of being pampered. Indeed, I always opt for the Cisalpino option when I can. There's an 11:15am from Milan to Florence, for example, as well as a 3:15pm from Florence, via Milan, to Zurich. Try it, you'll like it!

Talking about Florence, Americans have been drawn to the city since, well, when travel became a pleasure. For more on US-Florence links, check out Alta Macadam's book Americans in Florence, which is published by Giunti. Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Marble Faun and Henry James' Roderick Hudson, were partly written in Florence. William Dean Howell's novel Indian Summer (1886) provides a fascinating picture of the life of American expatriates in Florence. The hero, Theodore Colville, notes that the city was well provided with an English or American doctor, apothecary, tailor, dentist, bookseller, and a number of protestant churches.

I was invited recently to an exhibition at the Civica Galleria d'Arte Moderna in Gallarate, which is close to Varese. Entitled Da Balla a Morandi. Capilavoro dalla Galleria Comunale d'Arte Moderna e Contemporanea di Roma, it gave me pause to think about whether I should visit the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art the next time I am in Rome. The answer is "definitely". The museum's collection began as a result of the International Exposition of 1883, with more works being added following the exhibition -- in 1911 -- to mark the 50th anniversary of the creation of the Italian nation. A number of private donations have also gone to supplement other acquisitions, and today the gallery boasts over 4,000 pieces. Ninety-four are being shown in Gallarate. These include Il dubbio by Giacomo Balla, and L'Angelo rapitore by Gino Severini. Other artists whose work can be admired at the Civica Galleria include Angelo Morbelli, Carlo Carr, Giorgio de Chirico, Giorgio Morandi, Ettore Colla, Marino Marini, Felice Casorati, Ottone Rosai, Giulio Sartorio, Duilio Cambellotti, Mario Mafai, Camillo Prampolini, and Mario Sironi. For information, click here.

I have been reading Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code. ("Oh no, not her too!" you gasp). A couple of things struck me. Including how come, in devising his codes, Leonardo da Vinci was using the 26-letter alphabet, when the Italian alphabet has 21 letters? (For those who don't know, the Italians appear to have no use for "j", "k", "w", "x" or "y"). The other thing is, in chapter 26, where they are talking about the esoteric relevance of the painting known as the Mona Lisa. And that this is an anagram of "Amon L'Isa", which in turn relates to the Egyptian god Amon and the goddess Isis. Not in Italian, it ain't. Which is the language we have no reason to doubt in which Leonardo thought and wrote. If Leo thought about these two gods at all, he would have called them something like Ammone and Isi, which are the contemporary Italian versions.

As for the painting, who knows what he called it? Especially on days that work was not going well. Seriously though, in Italian -- to this day -- it is called La Gioconda, in that it is the portrait of the wife of one Francesco del Giocondo. OK, so Giorgio Vasari, in his Lives of the Artists (1550) also referred to it as the Monna Lisa (please note the double "n"). That's because it seems she was actually called Lisa, and the m-word was an abbreviation of madonna, or "m'lady". So, just to sum up, Mona Lisa is the Anglicized name of a painting known in the original as something else entirely. Sorry, Mr. Langdon, ma non ci siamo (which is Italian for, “I don’t think so!”).

(I have now been shown the Rough Guide to the Da Vinci Code by Michael Haag and Veronica Haag, which addresses this little quibble of mine, as well as providing other examples where, "fiction is stranger than the truth".)

By the way, not only is the double "n" spelling etymologically accurate, it will also help you avoid red faces, nervous coughs, little giggles, and other signs of acute embarrassment if you use the Americanized version in Venice, because that particular four-letter word is a euphemism, in local dialect, for something the subject of the painting had, and which Mr. Da Vinci, by definition, did not.

Something else in The Da Vinci Code gave me pause for thought. When it comes to thrillers, not only are the phones at Interpol and similar places answered in a jiffy, but -- the most amazing thing -- people also have the numbers to hand, at all times, so they can ring them in the first place. Tends not to happen with me. I guess that is the difference between fiction and non-fiction. Which brings me to my next, and perhaps far more important, point.

In Italy, it's really hard to find the phone numbers of restaurants! It sounds like it should be easy, in that not only do the Pagine Gialle (Yellow Pages) have a listing for restaurants, but so do the Pagine Bianche (White Pages – under "R" for "ristorante"). The problem is another one: for reasons I and most Italian diners have never been able to understand, many eating-places, even very famous ones, are listed under the name of the owner! One example is Da Cambi in Florence. This great trattoria is on the corner of Borgo San Frediano and Via Sant'Onofrio. Not a place for vegetarians, Cambi is dedicated to meat and especially to Florence's specialties from the thick fiorentina steak to tripe, lamprey and all that other offal stuff. Last time I went I had tagliatelle alla boscaiola, a classic named after a “woodsman” who must have known a lot about mushrooms, edible mushrooms, for they are the basis of this particular dish. The pasta was followed by a fillet of steak between two with a dish of their roast potatoes, again uno in due. House red wine, and sparkling water, one sweet and one coffee came to about 60 Euro, which is more than reasonable. It was Friday night, the place was quite busy and actually much more relaxed than on another occasion, when there was definitely a move to get people to eat and run. I guess it was that time of the evening. The bulk of the business has been done, and the guests that were there were the ones that got to linger after they had finished eating. The deal there, though, is to book in advance. The number is 055-217-134. Treasure it or, if you forget, remember to look it up under "C" in the Florence phone book.

That's about it for this time. Upcoming we have March 8, which is la festa della donna, one of my least favorite Italian festivities. Why celebrate women one day a year? Are we not worth celebrating every day? OK, let's not get into that! Easter, or Pasqua, is Sunday March 27. Good Friday is not a holiday in much of Italy, while the day after Easter, known as Pasquetta, or lunedi' dell'angelo, always is. By then, Spring should have sprung. Or at least we hope so!