It's been a culturally overwhelming seven days for me. You might expect me to want to write about Italy's (no longer so recent) World Cup match-up against England. You might think, "hey, there's gotta be a lot to talk about there from a perspective that understands and appreciates the mentality of either side," and you'd be right. But because the World Cup is being written about to death, from all possible angles, I'll leave the commentary to the pros (and wannabes -- I am neither).
(But yes, for those curious, watching the game in a piazza along the Arno was everything you might expect it to be -- loud shouts, fickle fans (their support soon turning to criticism with the team's every faux pas), massive celebration, and an unofficial but unanimously decided collective poking fun at Paletta. I'm not sure why, but I think it has something to do with his hair.)
The week's other notable if less discussed event was the June 16th inauguration of Ponte Vecchio's new lights. And wasn't that just a box of stereotypes unambiguously confirmed.
Here are the facts:
Stefano Ricci, of the Stefano Ricci House of Design (male fashion), donated 400,000 euro to Florence to replace the lights illuminating the Ponte Vecchio with LED energy-saving ones, and to clean up the bridge more generally. That meant removing all graffiti and providing general maintenance. This part, including the installation of the new lights, was done in the days leading up to the June 16th inauguration despite Ricci's commitment to the project months earlier.
The reason for the delay? As it so happens, June 16th was something of a special day both for Florentine fashion - it celebrated 60 years of facetime in the city's downtown core - and for the Ricci family itself, who celebrated an impressive 40 years of activity on the Florentine fashion scene. So this event lined up neatly with the yearly launch of the Florence Pitti Uomo celebration -- a summer-long event.
Of course, no inauguration would be complete without an appropriate party -- a party that probably cost at least twice what the restoration of the bridge itself cost and that included a water show by French troupe Iliotopie and performances by Giancarlo Giannini (an Italian actor) and Andrea Boccelli (no need for an introduction).
A party, moreover, that while masquerading as accessible and inviting to all Florentines -- the Ponte Vecchio will remain open, Ricci insisted -- in many ways came across as an expectedly exclusive event. The Santa Trinità bridge was reserved for Stefano Ricci's personally invited guests, and access to all other bridges was protected by brigades of bulletproof shield-wielding carabinieri AND police. On both sides. At all entrances.
So what does this teach us?
It teaches us that the preservation of Renaissance masterpieces -- of which the Vasari corridor is one -- is important to Italians, especially in places of rich cultural history; but that this preservation is still in many ways only secondary to an industry that has ostentatiously and perhaps aggressively claimed itself as the most representative facet of Italian culture; an industry that, for all its attempts at inclusivity and universality -- and I think Ricci's was genuine and heartfelt -- continues to cater specifically to its own.
Only in Italy would a fashion designer throw a million euro party to underline his investment in Florence's cultural patrimony and energy savings (80% or 15 thousand euro). To say thank you, he claims.
I sound cynical. I know. Apologies. What bothers me about this display is neither Ricci himself nor the scale of his show, but the piggy-backing of the Ponte Vecchio restoration on a celebration of fashion and design -- or vice versa, I'm not sure. To me, inaugurating a project of this cultural importance, but having it coincide with fashion week is like waiting months to celebrate your oldest child's graduation from medical school on your youngest child's fifth birthday party (at Chuck E. Cheese's). Why not have two separate events? Are they not both worthy enough of attention? Pitti Uomo is not going broke any time soon. What's another party? Couldn't the celebration of the Ponte Vecchio have been about the Ponte Vecchio?
Of course, I say this as a middle child (of three) and as someone who has always found it important to individuate accomplishments, projects, and events as they arise to make sure they are all given equal attention and attributed equal importance. Perhaps I am uniquely bothered by a celebration that pretends to be one thing and succeeds at being another. It was truly an impressive show. I saw little of it, but what I did see moved me. But I would love to see this kind of attention and care given to, say, the June 24th feast of Saint John the Baptist, Florence's patron saint -- and a distinctly Florentine celebration of history and culture. I have been in Florence for four San Giovanni celebrations. Never have I seen carabinieri or police at the entrance to any bridge anywhere. Never have I seen a show that even remotely resembles either what Stefano Ricci organised for his June 16th event, or even what Pisa does for its annual Festa della Luminara.
If Pisa can do it every year (without the presence of a notable fashion industry), why can't Florence?
Yes, this is a once-in-a-lifetime event (you only celebrate 60 or 40 years once), not an annual event. Yes, and after many months of austerity, it was a useful hit of colour and morale for Florentines. Yes, it was concrete evidence of an Italy that (at least privately) backs its words with actions. It just wasn't really the appreciation it should have been, in my humble opinion.
With a (projected) million euro, Florence could probably put together at least 3 decent celebrations of its own history (beyond the repetitive calcio storico and its never-changing Renaissance parade; I'm pretty sure those same costumes have been used for the past 50 years). Just food for thought.
If I were Vasari, I'd either be laughing from atop my corridor or rolling in my grave.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Burning down (or warming up) the House
Well, it has been a long while since I last wrote. Mainly, that's because I have been, in chronological order: 1) trying to procure a work/holiday visa from the Italian consulate in Montreal; 2) after much travail, successfully procuring a work/holiday visa from the Italian consulate in Montreal; 3) assembling various documents for my dog's travel passport to the EU; 4) preparing a conference paper for a panel on Italian studies in Zurich; 5) flying to and attending said conference; 6) touring Zurich and Innsbruck; 7) redecorating my Florence abode; 8) visiting with my boyfriend's family in Orbetello and Manciano/Pomonte/Saturnia; 9) taking a short detour to Capalbio to visit the Giardino dei Tarocchi; and 10) completing a course syllabus on Italian regionalism, proposing papers for panels at the RSA's 2015 meeting in Berlin, and completing a draft of an intended publication.
So, phew. That was a lot of stuff.
But I have been meaning to write about Italian housewarming traditions - or the perceivable lack thereof - since May 15, when a close Italian friend became a homeowner for the first time, in Montreal.
I have known this friend since my McGill days, and she has seen me through some of the darkest periods of my life. So when she, excited, requested my presence at an intimate housewarming affair on the night she closed the deal officially, despite the million and one things going on in my life, I couldn't say no. I had been told that it was considered good luck in Italian circles to bring salt to a new homeowner -- a friend had once brought me some when I first moved into my own place (although I was renting it) without roommates in Baltimore. I wasn't sure, however, if the tradition was bogus. The fact that I was being invited to a housewarming by an Italian friend did nothing to assuage my doubts about the validity of the tradition -- she has been living in Canada for the past twelve years. She's about as Canadian as I am at this point.
My curiosity led me to do research, as it usually does, which brought me to two items of interest. The first is this list of "Traditional Italian Housewarming Gifts." The second was my boyfriend's staunch and unflinching affirmation that housewarming in general, let alone traditional gifts associated with it, simply doesn't exist in Italy. Or at least, that it isn't really a thing in most places in Italy.
As it so happens, both things are only half right, as more research confirmed.
As anyone who has lived (or lives) in North America knows, housewarming parties are a big deal in Canada and the US: people have them all the time, as often as they can, every time they move into a new place. They usually happen when the home is already set-up and ready to accommodate guests, since the point of a housewarming party is to prepare the new home as a place of hospitality. It's a social inauguration, if you will. It's true that this particular celebration doesn't exist in Italy. As important as socialising and hospitality are to Italians, none (or few, and almost none within Italy) feel the need to underline it in the specific context of buying or moving into a new house. It goes without saying. If you're going to live in your own place, you're going to have your friends over for dinner. Repeatedly. Without need for excuses, explanations, or reasons. Just because. (This is one thing I have always loved about Italians vs. Americans. In Italy, you never need to "sell" your event or appeal to your audience's likes, dislikes, sports preferences or television schedules. If you want to have dinner with some people, you don't need to throw a theme-party, an Oscar party, a Super Bowl party, a Fourth of July, Memorial Day, or Labor Day party. You just need to call and invite them over. Un punto e basta).
But it is customary, when visiting a new home, to bring the homeowner a token for various forms of good luck. It's even more common for the homeowner to bring these trinkets to their new homes themselves. (Because when it comes to luck, Italians are on top of their game.)
Not all of the items on the list, however, resonate with Italian audiences, as both my boyfriend and my friend the homeowner confirmed. Let's go through them.
1) Wine and bread -- Nope. Never heard of this tradition. There's wine and bread at every Italian meal. Why should a "housewarming" celebration be any different?
2) Rice -- As a symbol of fertility, rice is more typically associated with marriage in Italy. It is both used as confetti at the religious (or civil) ceremony, and, more traditionally still, placed in the wedding bed made the night prior to the wedding by a team of virgins (allegedly).
3) Candles -- Yes. For light. For warmth. For fragrance. Not necessarily for change, as the list suggests.
4) Olive oil -- Nope. Read item 1. Ibidem.
5) Brooms -- Yes. Little ones to hang on the entrance door or other doorways. Symbolic brooms to sweep away misfortune. I suppose you could bring a full-sized Oskar-style broom to an Italian homeowner if you really wanted to .... would come in handy if you were going to help her/him to move in. Otherwise, I might just stick with the figurative format.
6) Salt -- Yes. And it is customary to scatter it in doorways.
My friend also brought lentils with her, despite their more customary use on New Year's eve and day. Then as always, they are said to bring prosperity.
I settled on salt (for flavour), something that I thought was my friend's favourite candies (and turned out to be chili pepper lol), beer, and empanadas. We sat around a tiny porch table, three matching chairs, and a box, and watched the little candle she'd brought over for good tidings burn.
It was a lovely cross-cultural evening -- just the way I like them :)
So, phew. That was a lot of stuff.
But I have been meaning to write about Italian housewarming traditions - or the perceivable lack thereof - since May 15, when a close Italian friend became a homeowner for the first time, in Montreal.
I have known this friend since my McGill days, and she has seen me through some of the darkest periods of my life. So when she, excited, requested my presence at an intimate housewarming affair on the night she closed the deal officially, despite the million and one things going on in my life, I couldn't say no. I had been told that it was considered good luck in Italian circles to bring salt to a new homeowner -- a friend had once brought me some when I first moved into my own place (although I was renting it) without roommates in Baltimore. I wasn't sure, however, if the tradition was bogus. The fact that I was being invited to a housewarming by an Italian friend did nothing to assuage my doubts about the validity of the tradition -- she has been living in Canada for the past twelve years. She's about as Canadian as I am at this point.
My curiosity led me to do research, as it usually does, which brought me to two items of interest. The first is this list of "Traditional Italian Housewarming Gifts." The second was my boyfriend's staunch and unflinching affirmation that housewarming in general, let alone traditional gifts associated with it, simply doesn't exist in Italy. Or at least, that it isn't really a thing in most places in Italy.
As it so happens, both things are only half right, as more research confirmed.
As anyone who has lived (or lives) in North America knows, housewarming parties are a big deal in Canada and the US: people have them all the time, as often as they can, every time they move into a new place. They usually happen when the home is already set-up and ready to accommodate guests, since the point of a housewarming party is to prepare the new home as a place of hospitality. It's a social inauguration, if you will. It's true that this particular celebration doesn't exist in Italy. As important as socialising and hospitality are to Italians, none (or few, and almost none within Italy) feel the need to underline it in the specific context of buying or moving into a new house. It goes without saying. If you're going to live in your own place, you're going to have your friends over for dinner. Repeatedly. Without need for excuses, explanations, or reasons. Just because. (This is one thing I have always loved about Italians vs. Americans. In Italy, you never need to "sell" your event or appeal to your audience's likes, dislikes, sports preferences or television schedules. If you want to have dinner with some people, you don't need to throw a theme-party, an Oscar party, a Super Bowl party, a Fourth of July, Memorial Day, or Labor Day party. You just need to call and invite them over. Un punto e basta).
But it is customary, when visiting a new home, to bring the homeowner a token for various forms of good luck. It's even more common for the homeowner to bring these trinkets to their new homes themselves. (Because when it comes to luck, Italians are on top of their game.)
Not all of the items on the list, however, resonate with Italian audiences, as both my boyfriend and my friend the homeowner confirmed. Let's go through them.
1) Wine and bread -- Nope. Never heard of this tradition. There's wine and bread at every Italian meal. Why should a "housewarming" celebration be any different?
2) Rice -- As a symbol of fertility, rice is more typically associated with marriage in Italy. It is both used as confetti at the religious (or civil) ceremony, and, more traditionally still, placed in the wedding bed made the night prior to the wedding by a team of virgins (allegedly).
3) Candles -- Yes. For light. For warmth. For fragrance. Not necessarily for change, as the list suggests.
4) Olive oil -- Nope. Read item 1. Ibidem.
5) Brooms -- Yes. Little ones to hang on the entrance door or other doorways. Symbolic brooms to sweep away misfortune. I suppose you could bring a full-sized Oskar-style broom to an Italian homeowner if you really wanted to .... would come in handy if you were going to help her/him to move in. Otherwise, I might just stick with the figurative format.
6) Salt -- Yes. And it is customary to scatter it in doorways.
My friend also brought lentils with her, despite their more customary use on New Year's eve and day. Then as always, they are said to bring prosperity.
I settled on salt (for flavour), something that I thought was my friend's favourite candies (and turned out to be chili pepper lol), beer, and empanadas. We sat around a tiny porch table, three matching chairs, and a box, and watched the little candle she'd brought over for good tidings burn.
It was a lovely cross-cultural evening -- just the way I like them :)
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