ACIS

Vale David Moss (1946-2024)

Sat, 05 Apr 2025 05:13:30 GMT

It is almost one year since our colleague, friend, and former Chair of ACIS left us. We have asked former ACIS Chairs, Management Committee Members, and awardees to share their memories and thoughts. We are hoping to add more statements from anyone who knew David, especially while he was supporting ACIS. If you would like to share your memories with the ACIS community, please write to admin@acis.org.au .

Vale, David

One of the greatest losses that ACIS, and Italian Studies more generally, suffered in 2024 was the passing of David Moss, the founding Chair of the ACIS Management Committee, co-convenor of the first ACIS Conference in Canberra at the ANU in 2001, and the most indefatigable and innovative champion of the cause of Italian Studies in Australia and New Zealand.

David was born in London on 20 May 1946. He went to boarding school in Dorset where he excelled at sports but also secured a place at Magdalen College, Oxford, where he read History. He soon developed an interest in Social Anthropology, so he enrolled to do a PhD in Social Anthropology at the university of Kent. Ever adventurous, he chose pastoralism in Central Sardinia as his thesis topic, thus making it necessary to do his fieldwork in Italy. He immediately came to love Italy and having achieved his doctorate is reported to have declared: ‘I am a social anthropologist and the Italians are my tribe.’ However, in the great leap forward of the postwar period, during the so-called Italian economic miracle, the Italians themselves had abandoned pastoralism in a headlong race to the glittering offerings of industrial consumer capitalism and, in the process, had generated a chaos of social change that had resulted in the rise of left-wing terrorism. David immediately grasped the opportunity of making this his new field of research and expertise. His The Politics of Left-Wing Violence in Italy, 1969-1985 , published in 1989, marked him out as one of the international go-to experts in the field.

By this time, he had already taken up a Senior Lectureship in Italian Studies at Griffith University (Brisbane), soon being promoted to Professor of European/Italian Studies as well as serving as the Dean of the Faculty of Arts. At Griffith, he met Barbara Misztal, a sociologist, and they married, with daughter Nika completing their family.

It was during this period that David was able to contribute to the birth of ACIS and to put it on the road to a secure future by serving as the founding Chair of its Management Committee. However, there was always the lure of Europe and when in 2002 his wife Barbara was offered a professorship in Sociology at the University of Leicester, David too, having previously declined an appointment at the University of Turin, now accepted becoming the only non-Italian lettore ordinario in the Faculty of Cultural Anthropology at the prestigious State University of Milan. He remained a very active member of ACIS from a distance and continued to be so even after retiring from teaching at the University of Milan, indeed taking the reins again as a very innovative Chairman of the Management Committee between 2012 and 2017.

After having played a key role in the development of Italian Studies in Australia, David turned his attention more and more on his family and his three grandchildren, in whose midst he passed away after a short illness.

Vale David. ACIS will be the poorer for having lost you. However, rest assured that you have put it on such a sure footing that even in the present challenges faced by universities, its position as beacon of Italian Studies remains secure.

Thanks to you.

[GM]

****

It has been hard for me to conceive of an ACIS without David Moss.

A man of rare open generosity of spirit whose sole goal it would seem was to celebrate others’ work and facilitate them in finding the means, financial as well as collegial, to further their research ambitions. Never partial to his own interests, he supported all comers from all disciplinary areas of the broad church that is Italian Studies in Australasia. His were both impossible shoes to fill as an incoming Chair, but also the most delightful of shoes to fill. He left them as soft ciabatte, with a well-worn tread. Wearing them, I had a ready-made excuse to consult him in what became delightfully meandering conversations via Skype as he sat in his attic study in Leicester and I in mine in Carlton.

Such was his self-effacing British manner that most members of the ACIS community would not be aware of how much time and effort he spent in furthering the organisation’s interests.

His is a great loss.

[CK]

****

David’s leadership in Italian Studies was unwavering, infectiously enthusiastic, supportive, and inspiring. He always looked for new and effective ways to promote and support the study and teaching of Italian culture and language.

One of his most significant and successful projects as Chair of ACIS was to support early career researchers by offering them project-based funding that allowed them to expand their academic networks, partnerships, and experience.

A former student and colleague of David shared her experience with working with and learning from him: ‘David has always been so encouraging [..] without being at all pushy or even obvious about it, and I know he has been so not just with me but with very many people. And always so gently erudite and witty!’.

David always had a ‘can-do’ approach. He was an endless source of encouragement to all colleagues and friends in Italian Studies. It did not matter whether you were a professor, a junior lecturer, or a student: he had time for anyone who had a new idea or project that would benefit the community of scholars and students.

Having excelled as a scholar examining and exposing the dark sides of Italian culture, society, and history (from sheep farming and banditry in Sardinia to key issues of clientelism, terrorism, violence, and corruption), David was very keen to make sure that the Italian studies communities in Australia, New Zealand, and Italy did not fall into some of the traps of Italian academia and society: favouritism, intellectual stagnation, and fear of innovation.

David offered his support with wit, irony, professionalism, and ‘esprit.’ I have delightful memories of skyping with him about some new research ideas or initiatives; he had a unique penchant for shifting seamlessly between light conversation and serious business. Very often, at the end of our Skype chats, I would find myself smiling while revisiting some of David’s sharp comments and then suddenly realise that I had agreed to write several entries for the ACIS website and two research proposals. It was impossible to say no to David because everyone who worked with him knew that he was always doing more for us and our community. And it was always a joy to work with him.

In May 2024, one of David’s postdoctoral students in Milan, and now Associate Professor at the same University, Angela Biscaldi, wrote the following about David:

From David I learned my passion for teaching (when pedagogy in anthropology was not a thing yet). I admired the meticulous and punctual way in which he prepared lessons and seminars for his students, starting always from a "road map." David has qualities that were very uncommon in the Italian academic world, such as his lack of interest in any form of power, an infallibly elegant kindness with which he interacted with students, colleagues, and administrators, and an extraordinary generosity. This same generosity was evident when, upon returning to Leicester, he gifted me everything from his study (books, CDs, notebooks, prints, tourist guides...) with the request to keep only one item aside for him, in anticipation of his future return: the original edition of Evans-Pritchard's "Witchcraft, Oracles and Magic Among the Azande," which still sits on my desk, awaiting his return.

I relate to Angela’s experience of David. His generosity, kindness, and professionalism are unmatched. A few days ago, one of his closest friends in Australia, Gino Moliterno, reminded us of an article David wrote in 2011 to celebrate the successes of Italian studies. In it, David quotes the Italian Renaissance intellectual and architect Leon Battista Alberti who famously offered advice on how to live a full and virtuous life: ‘Wit, judgment, memory, reason, counsel, and other faculties are not given to us to remain unused.’ David had all of these qualities and many more, and he certainly used them most generously.

Vale David, friend, colleague, and mentor.

[AR, GM, and CKe]

****

As Chair of ACIS, David Moss set up important avenues of support for early career researchers. The Honorary Research Associate (HRA) program provided PhD graduates in Italian history and Italian Studies with the mentoring and the funding to generate new projects and continue archive work. Thinking back to an uncertain time in my career, it’s very unlikely that I would have continued in academia without this support. I am very grateful for the support, and his kind and encouraging ways.

Thank you, David.

[EB]

New Subjects and Stories of Baroque Art: Hamilton Gallery

Mon, 04 Mar 2024 06:15:49 GMT

Open until 14 April 2024, the exhibition Emerging From Darkness: Faith, Emotion and The Body in the Baroque is presented at Victoria's Hamilton Gallery (on the unceded lands of the Eastern Maar and Gunditjmara peoples), in partnership with the National Gallery of Victoria (NGV).

Unprecedented, and monumental in scope, Emerging From Darkness brings together an exceptional group of works from public and private collections in Australia. It was curated by Associate Professor David R. Marshall , Principal Fellow in Art History at the University of Melbourne, Dr Lisa Beaven , Adjunct Senior Research at La Trobe University, and Laurie Benson , Senior Curator of International Art at the NGV. Here two curators explain some of the project’s background and aims.

David and Lisa write:

The idea was to develop an exhibition centred on Italy at the end of the sixteenth, and into the seventeenth century, when major developments in art were responding in part to the Catholic reform of the latter Cinquecento. Also encompassed is art of the seventeenth century produced beyond Europe, specifically in India, Asia, and the Pacific: objects produced in a Christian context that demonstrate a fascinating mix of influences.

As Protestant reformers rejected the power of images, Catholic cultures embraced them, seeking new, more emotionally intense relationships with artworks. With three notable paintings by women artists – one from the NGV and two from a private collection – Emerging From Darkness demonstrates the women’s immense contribution to this transformation, alongside their male counterparts.

The culmination of the exhibition’s Caravaggist theme is also the centrepiece of a section devoted to ‘Stories of Women’: an almost unknown painting by Artemisia Gentileschi of Lucretia ( c. 1630–35), who is depicted at the moment of suicide. Here we wish the audience to do more than remark that the work is by a woman artist with a particular history, and ask about the artist’s cogent interpretation of her subject, a scene from ancient Roman legend. We have given each work in this section two extended wall texts, one focused on the intricacies of the painter’s subject, the other on the artist’s response to these. Gentileschi portrays Lucretia as strong and resolute in the wake of violence and trauma – our discursive labels consider how Lucretia’s suicide was interpreted in early modern Italy.

This final room of the exhibition tells additional stories from the perspective of the female protagonists. Included here is the Greek myth of Hero and Leander’s infatuation with one another, which leaves Hero grief-stricken over the body of her lover; also, the healing acts of Saint Irene, who nurses Saint Sebastian back to life.

In another section devoted to images of the face we had the opportunity to include, from a private collection, an almost unknown Portrait of a Prelate (c. 1556) by Sofonisba Anguissola – an aristocratic painter from Cremona who worked for much of her life painting portraits of the court at Madrid. We decided to hang this portrait beside what is undoubtedly the finest Baroque portrait in Australia, Peter Paul Rubens’s Self-portrait (1623). Painted as a gift for a friend, this work is part of the National Gallery of Australia collection . Our decision for the display of these portraits has proved a great success: visitors spontaneously ask, ‘is this unknown work by a woman artist as good as a famous work by the male hero artist?’ – and so compare the images closely and critically. Such a process can easily reveal that Anguissola’s fine likeness holds its own authority beside Rubens’s work.

By drawing on the newly liberal reproduction rights policies of several more enlightened international art museums (New York’s Metropolitan Museum, the Getty Museum in Los Angeles, and the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam deserve plaudits) we were able to illustrate the exhibition catalogue very richly. The resultant book presents a wide variety of images in ways that constantly raise questions and stimulate further reading. Here, too, our main aim has been to encourage close engagement with the artworks’ new modes of storytelling, combined with new subjects and intense drama ... .

In Podcast: 1873–2023, Alessandro Manzoni’s Legacy

Fri, 27 Oct 2023 06:04:57 GMT

In Italy this year th ere has been no shortage of Manzoni celebrations, particularly in Milan . And in Australasia?

Dr Stefano Bona , Lecturer in Italian Studies at Flinders University, Adelaide, on the lands of the Kauna nation, has lately been involved in creating a ‘special miniseries’ of radio programmes about Alessandro Manzoni. Now available for listening on demand are two longform interviews with Stefano Pratola at Radio Italiana 531 AM. Here Stefano Bona shares some background to this podcast project.

Stefano writes:

If Dante Alighieri is deservedly recognised for inventing the idea of the Italian language (envisioned, by him, as an ‘eloquent vulgar tongue’), Alessandro Manzoni is deservedly recognised for his vital role – five hundred years after Dante – in fashioning a national language for a united Italy. Born in Milan in 1785, Manzoni died aged 88, also in Milan, having fallen on the steps of San Fedele, his parish church located in the heart of the city. So 2023 marks 150 years since the death of the Lombard intellectual, poet, and novelist, and an important opportunity to understand afresh why Manzoni tirelessly promoted Florentine as the common language of the new Italian state.

Manzoni’s linguistic theory became a matter of artistic and political conviction. As an artistic choice, it involved great tenacity: his celebrated novel I promessi sposi ( The Betrothed ), set entirely between Lecco, Milan, and the Bergamo area, was written in three different editions over three decades. First published in 1823 as Fermo e Lucia , it was rewritten in 1825–27 under the current title, then further refined between 1827 and 1840, reflecting Manzoni’s progressive approach to the Florentine language, a result of his efforts to write in a purer and less literary Tuscan idiom.

The same approach to language became a political adherence, because, appointed a senator of the new Kingdom of Italy in 1860, Manzoni later became a leading member of the parliamentary commission on language, and wrote the treatise, or policy proposal, Dell’unità della lingua e dei mezzi di diffonderla (1868). The popularity of this document made it possible to transform an idea about linguistic unity into a fact, one still formative of the ways in which we speak and write Italian – the Italian we learn and teach now around the globe.

In Australasia the anniversary of Manzoni’s death risked going unnoticed. For this reason, I worked with Radio Italiana 531 , the Italian language radio service owned and run by the Italian South Australian community, to create a podcast series dedicated to Manzoni. Across the two episodes, Stefano Pratola and I share convivial and close discussion.

‘ Part 1 ’ retraces Manzoni’s life, remembers his ideas , and considers the lasting impact of his work on future generations of Italians. In ‘ Part 2 ’ we rediscover the value of I promessi sposi through selected readings. (Last year, Modern Library published a new translation into English by Michael F. Moore , prefaced by Pulitzer-winning author Jhumpa Lahiri.) We also listen to some themed music – including, of course, Giuseppe Verdi’s Messa da Requiem . Composed in memory of Manzoni as a national hero of Italy, this grand setting of the Catholic funeral Mass was first performed in Milan’s San Marco church, on 22 May 1874, exactly a year after Manzoni’s death.

Insomma, buon ascolto!

Awarded: Two ACIS Prizes, Two Notable Publications

Thu, 14 Sep 2023 07:38:57 GMT

Announcing, with great pleasure, the winners of the 2023 ACIS Publication Prize for an established scholar, and the 2023 Jo-Anne Duggan Prize.

ACIS awards both prizes every two years . In this case, each winning publication addresses the theme of mobility – a fast-evolving direction in Italian Studies research – and each brings forward a topic with clear contemporary significance.

The Established Scholar Publication Prize has been awarded to Miles Pattenden , for his close study titled ‘Papal Rome in Lockdown: Proximities, Temporalities and Emotions during the Im/mobility of the Conclave’, published in I Tatti Studies in the Italian Renaissance , 24.2 (2021): 291–309.

Awarded for peer-reviewed research published between 1 January 2021 and 31 December 2022, this prize celebrates a significant contribution to knowledge by an Australasian researcher in the field of Italian Studies, broadly defined.

The adjudicators write, in part :

... insightful, beautifully written, supported by rich documentation, [this article is] deliciously relevant to the themes of pandemic and emotional response. Pattenden’s ability to combine microdetail – the smell of the latrine, the sleeping arrangements – with the broad implications of confinement is quite exceptional. The essay develops the emotional aspects of the papal conclave, the broader elements of which are analysed in Pattenden’s 2017 monograph, Electing the Pope in Early Modern Italy, 1450–1700 (Oxford: Oxford University Press).

___________________

The Jo-Anne Duggan Prize has been awarded to early career researcher Linetto Basilone , in recognition of his panoramic study titled The Distance to China: Twentieth-Century Italian Travel Narratives of Patriotism, Commitment and Disillusion (1898–1985) (Oxford: Peter Lang, 2022).

The award citation concludes:

... deeply researched, [this account] effectively captures the rich variety of translingual and transcultural encounters that contributed to bridging – and indeed in many instances also increasing – the distance between Italy and China. In the author’s careful analysis … we can clearly identify the ripple effects of significant past connections and misconceptions as they re-emerge in today’s intermingling of fascination and suspicion. These are sentiments that will probably continue to shape Italy-China relations – and this book impressively traces the cultural history of their development since the late nineteenth century.

Recollecting Jo-Anne Duggan (1962–2011) as both scholar and photomedia artist, the citation adds, ‘the inclusion of 24 fascinating historic photographs would no doubt have pleased Jo-Anne Duggan’. Further information about The Distance to China is available via the Peter Lang Publishing website .

___________________

The ACIS community and friends extend warmest congratulations to both prize winners!

Save the Date: ACIS 12th Biennial Conference, 3–6 July 2024

Mon, 04 Sep 2023 01:27:55 GMT

The 12th Biennial Conference of the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies will be held at the Australian National University (ANU), Canberra, Ngunnawal and Ngambri Country, from Wednesday 3 July to Saturday 6 July 2024. The conference theme is ‘Italian Studies for Global Challenges: Transdisciplinary Conversations’.

Convened by Associate Professor Francesco Ricatti , this conference invites perspectives on Italian Studies as a field of enquiry with a role to play in facing the challenges that continue to intensify in our highly globalised world – those cultural, political, economic, and environmental challenges demanding consideration and bold address. Confirmed keynote speakers are Associate Professors Chiara Beccalossi (University of Lincoln) and Camilla Hawthorne (University of California, Santa Cruz).

The first ACIS conference took place at ANU in 2001. As such, the 12th conference marks a return to that location and place – the unceded lands of the Ngunnawal and Ngambri peoples.

The full conference Call for Papers will be available soon via the dedicated ACIS 12th Biennial Conference website, which is currently under construction. Until then, queries about the event can be addressed to Francesco Ricatti .

Announcing the 2023 ACIS Save Venice Fellow

Thu, 24 Aug 2023 05:46:56 GMT

Open to postgraduate and early career researchers, since 2018 the ACIS Save Venice Fellowship programme has been enlivening close links between Australasia and the city of Venice. Fellowship applications were suspended in 2022, for pandemic-related reasons. So it is a special pleasure to announce that Brigette De Poi has been awarded an ACIS Save Venice Fellowship for 2023. Already living in Venice to focus on her PhD project, Brigette shares some first reflections on her contact with Save Venice thus far.

Brigette writes:

I have long been aware of the fantastic work initiated by Save Venice Inc. to preserve the city's remarkable history. Having lived in Venice now for six months, focusing on archival research, I find it impossible to ignore the positive impact of Save Venice projects on the city’s art, architectural, and cultural treasures. Multiple plaques on historical sites and landmarks commemorate the organisation’s ceaseless efforts to protect the cultural heritage of this extraordinary city.

My PhD research relates to the 1630s plague, and its influence on early modern musicians who lived and performed in Venice. Given the city's torrid past experiences of plague outbreak, it is hardly surprising that Save Venice works on projects with plague themes. So far, my research has sparked my interest two such projects in particular: the restoration of the Chiesa di San Sebastiano, and current conservation work in the Sala dell’Albergo at the Scuola Grande di San Rocco – a two-year campaign to treat the vast and complex Crucifixion scene completed for that location by Jacopo Tintoretto ( c . 1518–94) in 1565.

When I first arrived in Venice in March this year, I was keen to explore the city’s ‘plague churches’, so-called because they were constructed as votive prayers (or offerings) for deliverance from ravages of plague during the period 1575–1691. Fortunately, one of my local churches in the Dorsoduro district is among the most beautiful examples of such a church in Venice, the Chiesa di San Sebastiano.

So on my second day in Venice, I walked just a hundred metres to explore this splendid sanctuary I had read so much about; one dedicated to the early Christian martyr Saint Sebastian as protector of plague victims. I encountered a stunning example of sixteenth-century Venetian church architecture, probably most famous for its lavish frescoes, canvases, and interior design by Paolo Veronese (1528–88).

On seeing the interior restoration projects accomplished by Save Venice, I was struck by the immense care, quality, and variety of that work. I was just as impressed by the depth and diligence of research into the history of San Sebastiano, as this is shared through literature available in the church itself, and via copious pages on the Save Venice website . The website serves as a dynamic archive of the organisation’s endeavours to preserve a tremendous range of artworks, which began back in 1971.

Buildings can be among the few tangible links we have to connect us to the past. On that second day in my new neighbourhood, while I stood inside the Chiesa di San Sebastiano, and noted the painstaking restorations made possible by Save Venice, I felt closer than ever before to the people who visioned and built this church. I am honoured, grateful, and excited to be given the opportunity to contribute to the organisation’s fearless mission for three months, starting in early September.

Brigette is currently undertaking a PhD through the Sydney Conservatorium of Music at the University of Sydney.

Looking for Forgetting in the Archive

Tue, 08 Aug 2023 04:21:10 GMT

Which memories are allowed to circulate in a particular culture – and which are relegated or silenced? What political logic is at play when a certain way of remembering is spelt out, even imposed?

Matthew Topp was awarded an ACIS Postgraduate Scholarship in 2020, to source archival records for his doctoral thesis, which has the working title ‘ Ars Oblivionalis : A Study of Cultural Forgetting in Renaissance Italy’. Now returned from fieldwork, he shares a brief account of his PhD project and travels.

Matthew writes:

My research focuses on fifteenth-century Italian memory culture. Specifically, I have been studying the reasons why communities across the Italian Peninsula chose to deliberately forget aspects of their pasts, and some of the key means by which they sought to achieve this forgetting ‘in practice’.

Forgetting is, of course, a necessary part of memory, but one that operates in a multitude of ways. It can be a destructive or punitive measure, erasing memories that no longer suit present needs. Yet forgetting can also act as a positive, constructive force; as a coping mechanism in conflict resolution, ‘forgiving and forgetting’. Structured around a series of case studies, my thesis brings together evidence for a variety of practices of cultural forgetting, including memory sanctions and excommunication, exile, and peacemaking and pardoning.

The funds from the ACIS Postgraduate Scholarship were used to support a very fruitful three-month trip to Italy, where I undertook final fieldwork in Rome, Venice, Bologna, Florence, and Siena, gathering an exciting and rich array of archival materials. My time in Italy allowed me to study and photograph records identified beforehand, and – more importantly – to discover many new documents I did not expect. In Venice, for instance, with the help of the kind archivist at the Archivio Storico del Patriarcato, I was able to consult records of excommunication cases, which will help me explore how this punishment condemned not only the soul of individuals, but also their earthly memory.

At the Archivio di Stato in Bologna, I was able to consult government statutes and criminal records relating to the common punishment of exile, furthering my research on how being expelled from one’s homeland impacted the reputation and commemoration of individuals. Finally, in most of the cities I visited (particularly Rome and Siena), I also viewed notarial records of peacemaking agreements and prisoner pardoning. These fascinating documents provide evidence of how forgetting past injuries played a crucial role in enabling forgiveness and maintaining peace between citizens.

The diverse nature of this project gave me the opportunity for hands-on practice in investigating a wide range of repositories, document types, and scripts from across Italy. There were many other benefits to spending time working in archives in Italy. While in Bologna, for example, I was able to meet with fellow PhD researchers from the University of Warwick. The chance to discuss our research experiences and challenges was enlightening and encouraging.

Once my PhD is complete, I hope to be able to return to some of the archives and libraries I visited on this trip, and continue researching ideas and practices of memory and forgetting. Rome and Bologna particularly piqued my interest: I would be keen to learn more about how the ‘memory culture’ of these cities may have differed from that of better-studied centres such as Florence or Venice.

Based in Melbourne, Matthew is currently undertaking a joint PhD through the Monash Warwick Alliance , a unique partnership between Monash University (Australia) and The University of Warwick (UK).

Two early career scholars reflect on their time as ACIS Save Venice Fellows

Sun, 02 Apr 2023 22:23:49 GMT

Two promising early career scholars – Lauren Murphy and Julia Pelosi-Thorpe – were the recipients of ACIS Save Venice Fellowships. Delayed due to COVID travel restrictions, they were finally able to access their Fellowships in 2022. Here they both reflect on their time in Venice and the benefits of the Fellowship to their respective research projects.

Lauren Murphy writes:

In 2020 I was the very fortunate recipient of an ACIS Save Venice Fellowship. Unfortunately, I received notification of the award in the early days of two years of lockdowns. So, my fellowship was delayed, and then delayed some more. The pandemic also delayed my PhD thesis, so when I could finally travel at the end of 2022, I was (and am) still researching and writing.

In Venice, I lived in a small apartment on the Fondamenta dei Ormesini in the sestiere of Cannaregio, improving my spoken Italian, cooking using local ingredients, and enjoying the nightlife in my lovely neighbourhood. Cicchetti were a staple of my existence, though I preferred prosecco to spritzes. I especially loved going on early morning walks through the city as it was waking up. Walking around St Mark’s square before 9 am, when it is mostly empty, and having having the space to myself, I fell even more in love with the city.

My fellowship research project focused on a Venetian collector, Andrea Vendramin (1565-1629). A descendant of one doge, also called Andrea (1393-1478), and nephew of another, Marino Grimani (1532-1605), Vendramin recorded his collection in a series of manuscripts scattered in several European libraries. He is an interesting figure because his collection appears to have been quite large, however only two brief contemporary descriptions mention it. Before my trip, most of the information about him came from just three documents in the Venetian State Archives: his will, his death notice, and the inventory of his house. As a result of my research, I have now found out where he fits into the genealogy of the noble Barbaro family, and more details about his descendants (though not the fate of his fabled vase collection, which, sadly, remains lost). I discovered that Vendramin also owned a villa near Padua with an extensive garden containing plants from all over the world, including the New World. Many of Vendramin’s objects were unusual, and I had wondered how he had accumulated such a diverse collection. Identifying Vendramin as the nephew of the Doge has made sense of many small but intriguing details.

So many aspects of my research have become richer due to being able to conduct research in Venice. I made use of the incredible resources in the libraries, museums, and archives. Some of these spaces are amazing, let alone the resources they contain. I have a photo of the view from the window at Save Venice’s Rosand Library (see below) which inspires me to finish my thesis so I can return to Venice and enjoy this space again while I research the next topic that catches my eye.

I am incredibly grateful to ACIS and Save Venice for allowing me to live and research in Venice for three months. and encourage other scholars to apply for the Fellowship, as it has been a high point in my life.

Julia Pelosi-Thorpe writes:

My Australasian Centre for Italian Studies Save Venice Fellowship was a deeply enriching experience that enabled me to grow personally and professionally. I was awarded the fellowship for 2020, the final year of my MA, but due to the COVID-19 pandemic was only able to complete it in 2022. The month before leaving Australia, I had received offers to PhD programmes in the United States (I ultimately selected the University of Pennsylvania), and I am currently a PhD candidate there.

For my ACIS Save Venice Fellowship I devoted myself to a passion project: a first complete translation—and, eventually, I hope, complete critical edition of Lucchesia Sbarra’s (1576–?1652) ground-breaking yet understudied 1610 Rime . This volume of poetry is saturated with startlingly sensual scenes from classical myth, and I am interested in the role Sbarra’s highly erotic classical imitatio might have played in early-seicento poems and literature more widely. Over the fellowship’s three months, I made great progress on my project, mainly because I was able to work on an extant edition of the Rime in Venice’s Biblioteca Marciana.

The experience of engaging with the material qualities of this object, the poetry volume itself, was transformative for my understandings of how the text could function. Additionally, I discovered myriad edits (paper paste-overs of sections—sometimes simply words, sometimes the majority of an entire page) that had not been visible in the 2D digitisations I had previously been working on. I also set out to compare different editions in libraries around the Veneto and even beyond—Sbarra’s Rime were originally published in Conegliano, and plenty of editions are to be found in the region, especially in Padova. An invitation by my future PhD supervisor, Eva Del Soldato, to attend a day of the annual American Association for Italian Studies conference in Bologna in May allowed me to search for, and find, another edition of Sbarra’s Rime in that city's Biblioteca dell’Archiginnasio. I also travelled to Conegliano itself to visit the Archivio del Comune di Conegliano, where archivist Dr Mariarita Sonego kindly discussed Sbarra with me, pointed me in the way of useful materials, and showed me many interesting documents. These leads provide important context about Sbarra and her work and were very precious to me for future research – potentially a project on women writers like Sbarra and their engagement with classical culture.

The Save Venice headquarters were spacious, beautiful, and light-filled, and my hours spent researching in their Rosand Library were idyllic and useful. Director of Save Venice’s Venice Office, Melissa Conn, took an interest in my research and was extremely warm and helpful, as was Save Venice Research Associate Dr Gabriele Matino. Both constituted important points of reference, and I admired their work as well as their kindness and personal integrity. On the last day of my fellowship, they organised a going-away lunch of cicchetti and wine for everyone in the Save Venice office, and it was a pleasure to talk more at length with everybody, including Leslie Contarini, the Venice Office Programs Director, who had been in the United States up to that point.

Overall, on countless levels and in countless ways, the months I spent completing the ACIS Save Venice Fellowship felt really meaningful for my growth as a connected scholar capable of providing contributions to students, fellow researchers, and the public sphere—and I offer my heartfelt thanks to the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies and Save Venice Inc.

Announcing a new Chair and new team at the helm of ACIS

Wed, 29 Mar 2023 08:44:28 GMT

ACIS is delighted to announce that Professor Andrea Rizzi has been appointed the new Chair of the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies. He leads a renewed Management Committee with several new appointees who start their terms of office this year.

Now entering its third decade of activities, the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies has marked its twentieth anniversary in several ways, including with a reflection on its operations and structure. Over the past three years, the ACIS Management Committee has engaged in a lengthy process developing a Charter for Governance . Approved in 2021 and formally implemented at its Annual General Meeting in December 2022, it is hoped that the Charter will provide a clearer and more robust approach to daily operations going forward, including membership of the Management Committee and terms of office of its members.

The Annual General Meeting held in Perth in December 2022 saw the conclusion of service of several long-standing committee members who had voluntarily given of their time and expertise over many years to ensure the continuation of the vision begun by Dino de Poli and the Fondazione Cassamarca's generous philanthropy: Giorgia Alù, Loretta Baldassar , Catherine Dewhirst, Diana Glen, Sally Hill, John Kinder, and Brigid Maher , all concluded their terms of office and ACIS remains deeply grateful to them all.

Their last role was to select the new Management Committee members from the applicants who had responded to an open call for service on the committee. The new members appointed were Andrea Rizzi (University of Melbourne), Mark Seymour (University of Otago), and Barbara Pezzotti (Monash University). For the first time, the ACIS Management Committee also now includes a postgraduate representative to be appointed on an annual basis. The successful applicant for this role was Laura Di Blasi (University of Melbourne). These new appointees all joined those members still serving their terms on the committee : John Hajek , Carolyn James , and Susanna Scarparo .

Catherine Kovesi has now also concluded her term as Chair. In early 2023 she convened a special meeting of the Management Committee for a new Chair to be appointed from among its ranks. At this meeting Andrea Rizzi was appointed to serve as Chair, for an initial period of four years.

Catherine Kovesi is incredibly grateful to the ACIS community whose support has enabled her to experience an enriching and rewarding period as Chair serving those who advance Italian Studies in Australasia. Above all she is grateful to Elisabetta Ferrari , the ACIS Project Officer, whose perspicacious, tenacious, and quietly effective personality has assisted her in the running of so many of the operations of ACIS.

New members of the ACIS Management Committee

Andrea Rizzi will be well known to many of the ACIS community. He is the ACIS Cassamarca Professor of Italian Studies at the University of Melbourne and is also currently serving as the Associate Dean, Research for the Faculty of Arts.

Born in Rome and raised in Italy in a bilingual family, Andrea was trained as a scholar and teacher at the Università Statale di Pavia (Italy) and the University of Kent at Canterbury (UK). Before coming to The University of Melbourne (2005), Andrea held positions in the UK, at the University of Western Australia, and at the University of South Australia. Between 2015 and 2019 Andrea was an Australian Research Council Future Fellow. In 2010-2011 he was awarded the Harvard University's Deborah Loeb Fellowship at the Villa I Tatti Center for Italian Renaissance Studies.

Andrea is a Renaissance literary and translation history scholar with an interdisciplinary approach to the study of this significant period of European culture: having been trained as a philologist as an undergraduate student at the University of Pavia (Italy), Andrea then developed a focus on premodern and modern transcultural communication and trust. Cultural history, literature, and translation history are therefore the three interconnected streams of Andrea's research.

ACIS looks forward to following Andrea Rizzi and the Management Committee as they lead this special and unique organization into its next decade of activities.

ACIS Postgraduate Scholarship Winners 2023

Mon, 30 Jan 2023 01:56:45 GMT

After a hiatus of three years due to travel restrictions, ACIS is delighted once again to be able to offer its Postgraduate Scholarships for Research in Italy. Two promising postgraduate students have been awarded scholarships in the current round: Brigette De Poi and Laura Di Blasi.

In order to promote and support the activities of research and teaching in the area of Italian Studies in Australasian tertiary institutions, ACIS offers up to three postgraduate travel scholarships each year. Worth $6000 each, these scholarships provide postgraduate students at an Australian or New Zealand university with the opportunity to work on a research project in Italy. For one of the awards, the Dino De Poli Scholarship, preference may be given to applications for research on any aspect of the culture, history and society of north-east Italy. Since 2000 a total of 53 students, drawn from twelve universities, have been awarded ACIS Postgraduate Scholarships.

Brigette De Poi has been awarded the Dino De Poli Scholarship. She is a PhD candidate in Musicology at the University of Sydney pursuing a PhD on the topic 'The Plague of 1630 and its Impact on the Musicians of Venice'.

In the years preceding 1630, Venice had a thriving musical community supported by the civic and ecclesiastical institutes of the city. Claudio Monteverdi had held the prominent post of Maestro di Capella of the Basilica di San Marco for some 17 years and the basilica’s reputation for outstanding musicianship was renowned throughout Europe. Music played an important role in the civic rituals and politics of Venice and the private spaces throughout the lagoon. However, all musical rituals and performances ceased for 18 months in 1630. That year the plague swept through the northern Italian city states resulting in a devastating loss of life and economic collapse. The impact on the Venetian population was overwhelming, with an estimated one third of the population killed. This research project explores the consequences of the plague for the musical communities and institutions of Venice and investigates whether it influenced the later musical achievements of the century, particularly the commercialisation of opera. It focuses on three main areas of musicians’ lives impacted by the plague: their employment, creative output and deaths, to determine any long-term impact the plague may have had on the musical institutions of Venice.

Laura Di Blasi is a PhD candidate in Italian Studies at the University of Melbourne. She is writing on the topic ' Rewriting as Discursive Authority: Laura Terracina’s Discorso on Orlando Furioso' .

The voices of early modern women that are tangible today, through surviving manuscripts, letters, and documents, offer a tenuous image of their former existence, and have so often been overshadowed by male contemporaries. Early modern women writers faced many obstacles on the path to print publication, and it was not uncommon for women to translate or rewrite male authored texts. This project argues that early modern women who rewrote or translated male authored texts were able to participate in and manipulate hegemonic discourses and literary traditions that they were historically excluded from. It offers a case study of Laura Terracina (c.1519-c.1577) and her Discorso (1549), a rewriting of Ludovico Ariosto’s chivalric epic Orlando Furioso (1516), and explores the textual practices employed by Terracina to assert herself into the sixteenth-century literary scene that was growing increasingly concerned with the lives of women. The project also explores the implications of Terracina’s Discorso on her putative female readership.

We wish both awardees every success with their research trips to Italy and look forward to seeing the eventual results of their research.

New Publication by Linetto Basilone – The Distance to China

Mon, 23 Jan 2023 06:12:00 GMT

ACIS is delighted to announce the publication of Linetto Basilone's monograph, The Distance to China: Twentieth-Century Italian Travel Narratives of Patriotism, Commitment and Disillusion (1898-1985) (Oxford: Peter Lang, 2022) , which was supported in part through an ACIS 2022 Publishing Grant .

Linetto Basilone is a Teaching Fellow in the Faculty of Arts at the University of Auckland. His monograph, the outcome of his PhD thesis, crosses the disciplines of comparative literature, Asian Studies and Italian Studies.

The Distance to China examines how, over the course of the twentieth century, China became a destination of choice for hundreds of the most prominent Italian writers, journalists, and politicians. Informed by the cultural, economic, and political relationship between Italy and China since the late 1890s, the travel narratives of these authors contributed to the creation of multiple and varied representations of the country. This book fills a gap in the study of the development of Italian travel narratives on twentieth-century China. It classifies the major portraits of China under five chronologically and ideologically ordered types of representation and offers readers a structured understanding of the processes of writing China in Italy. The study sheds new light on how China was associated with the specific cultural, political, and social traits of Italy and Italian culture; how it reinforced ideological indoctrination among Italian intellectual elites; and how significant such travel narratives were for the ideological orientation of the Italian readership.

The authors discussed in the book include, among others: Luigi Barzini Sr., Mario Appelius, Arnaldo Cipolla, Franco Fortini, Carlo Cassola, Curzio Malaparte, Alberto Moravia, Goffredo Parise, Maria Antonietta Macciocchi, Gianni Rodari, Luigi Malerba, Alberto Arbasino, Edoarda Masi, and Tiziano Terzani.

For more information, including how to purchase the book, click on the image above.

Nerida Newbigin wins the David Moss Prize for Outstanding Contribution to Italian Studies

Fri, 30 Dec 2022 10:57:38 GMT

The ACIS Management Committee is delighted to announce that the inaugural David Moss Prize for Outstanding Contribution to Italian Studies in the region has been awarded to Emeritus Professor Nerida Newbigin. Professor Newbigin was presented with the prize by ACIS Patron, Santo Cilauro, at the recent 11 ^th ACIS Conference in Perth, on 13 December 2022.

This prize is named to honour Professor David Moss, the founding Chair of the ACIS Management Committee, co-convenor of the first ACIS Conference held in Canberra at the ANU, and a tireless, enthusiastic and innovative champion of the cause of Italian Studies in Australasia. David was Professor of Italian and European Studies at Griffith University before achieving a rare distinction as a foreigner, the appointment as Professor of Cultural Anthropology at the University of Milan (the only foreign faculty member of a staff of 230).

Nerida Newbigin is Emeritus Professor of Italian Studies at the University of Sydney, and former Pro-Dean of the Faculty of Arts. She was elected to the Australian Academy of the Humanities in 1995, and appointed to a Personal Chair in Italian Studies at the University of Sydney in 2001. Nerida taught Italian Language and Literature at the University of Sydney from 1970 until her ‘retirement’ in December 2008, but she is still actively engaged as a researcher. Her research interests are philological and historical: the history of theatre and performance in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, late medieval lay piety, and the editing and interpretation of theatrical texts and archival material. In June 2009, she set up a web page of transcriptions, texts, and translations prepared in conjunction with her teaching and research.

Nerida was selected by the Management Committee as the inaugural recipient of this prize in part due to her extraordinary and path-breaking career, with important contributions to the history of theatre and theatrical texts in the Middle Ages and Renaissance. In 2013 she published, together with Barbara Wisch, Acting on Faith: the Confraternity of the Gonfalone in Renaissance Rome (Philadelphia: Saint Joseph’s University Press), and the two-volume facsimile edition with critical commentary of the Codice Rustici (with Elena Gurrieri and Kathleen Olive) was published by Olschki in 2015. Most recent is her two-volume Making a Play for God: The Sacre Rappresentazioni of Renaissance Florence , published by the Toronto Centre for Renaissance and Reformation Studies (and winner of The Medieval and Renaissance Drama Society David Bevington Prize 2022). But Nerida was also selected because she has been extraordinarily supportive of Italian Studies in Australia and has been a strong advocate for Italian Studies nationally and internationally. She has been very active in the languages section of the Australian Academy of the Humanities and has generously mentored her students and younger scholars. She is one of the longest active female scholars in Italian Studies in our region and, as one of the Committee members wrote of her, she is: "a scholar of generosity as well as of quality who has given leadership in Italian Studies both through her advocacy as well as publications".

When informed of Nerida’s award of the prize named in his honour, David Moss wrote:

“From her first employment in 1970 until her retirement in 2008, Nerida has been a central figure in the philology and history of Renaissance theatre in Florence, Siena and Rome, exploring in magnificent detail the mystery of plays which involve representations of sacred stories and their personnel. Around this central theme Nerida has create d work in editing, transcribing and translating key sources, often involving younger scholars whom she has taught. Her deep involvement in Italian Studies, during and beyond her work as an active teacher, has been a fundamental element in both language and literary studies, keeping Italian Studies a central part of this enterprise. If the Prize is designed to reward major contributions to the theme, there is no one better to receive the award than Nerida.”

In accepting her award at the ACIS Conference, Nerida spoke, in part, the following words:

“... This is an amazing and unexpected honour. I’m not speechless, but very nearly. ...

It is hard to feel that I deserve this award when I have spent my working life doing what other people do on their holidays: exploring Italy in her cultural and political and social complexity, and sharing the insights I have acquired along the way. It has been a joyous career, that became even richer in retirement. I recently weighed my post-retirement publications, monographs and volumes containing my essays (that might be cheating a bit) – and was astonished when they came in at 27 kg. A certain gravitas, one might say (although 16 kg was the Codice Rustici, which I edited with my former PhD student Kathleen Olive). The latter was presented to Pope Francis in 2015, as the gift of the Florentine Curia on the occasion of his first visit to Florence, but probably not for reading in bed.

In accepting this award, I want to acknowledge all my teachers and colleagues and students in Italian studies. One of the things that makes us all special and exceptional is our interdisciplinarity, our collaborations, and the support we have been able to give each other in our academic life. ACIS, together with its original sponsors, the Cassamarca Foundation and Dino De Poli, is right at the heart of these collaborations, as was put into words in the 2011 publication, Italy Under the Southern Cross , edited by Gino Moliterno and David Moss himself, and this support continues through the activities of ACIS, such as this conference, and the programme of scholarships, fellowships, and prizes.

I want to send my best w ishes to those of you who are still toiling at the coalface. Italy, its language and its culture would survive perfectly well without you, but your roles as cultural mediators are what make your contribution so valuable. You enrich Australian culture by providing access to Italy, and you provide insights into Italian culture from an Australian perspective. In the multiple traditions of Humanism that you espouse, you make us more humane, better human beings. Many of you have faced huge challenges over the past three years, more than I ever faced in my charmed baby-boomer life. I take my hat off to you, and wish you every success in the future."

David Moss once wrote of himself: "I’m an anthropologist and the Italians have been my tribe". We are simply delighted that Nerida Newbigin should be the first member of the newly inaugurated David Moss Prize 'tribe'.

Launch of Natalie Tomas's Selected Letters of Maria Salviati de' Medici

Mon, 22 Aug 2022 04:31:26 GMT

The latest book by Dr Natalie Tomas, Selected Letters, 1514-1543, of Maria Salviati de' Medici , will be launched on 16 September, 6-7pm AEST by Professor Carolyn James.

In 2020 Natalie Tomas was awarded one of the inaugural ACIS Publishing Grants to support the publication of Selected Letters, 1514-1543, of Maria Salviati de' Medici (University of Chicago Press, The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe. Toronto Series, 2022). We are now delighted to see the final product.

Recent years have seen increasing interest in the life and influence of Maria Salviati de' Medici . Maria Salviati’s surviving correspondence documents a life spent close to the centres of Medici power in Florence and Rome, giving witness to its failures, resurrection, and eventual triumph. Presented here for the first time in English, this book is a representative sample of Maria’s surviving letters that document her remarkable life through a tumultuous period of Italian Renaissance history. While she earned the exasperation of some, she gained the respect of many more. Maria ended her life as an influential dowager, powerful intercessor for local Tuscans of all strata, and wise elder in Duke Cosimo I’s court.

The Monash Centre for Medieval and Renaissance Studies (CMRS) is hosting the launch of Dr Tomas's book. Professor Carolyn James , Director of the Centre and an ACIS Cassamarca appointee as well as member of the ACIS Management Committee, will formally launch the book and there will then be an opportunity afterwards for discussion and questions with Dr Tomas.

Registration for this online event is free, and can be found here .

D etails of the book and how to purchase it can be found by clicking on the image above.

New Cassamarca Appointment–Welcome Barbara Pezzotti!

Thu, 18 Aug 2022 10:15:19 GMT

ACIS is delighted to welcome Dr Barbara Pezzotti as the latest ACIS Cassamarca Appointee in European Languages/Italian at Monash University.

Monash University holds two of the prestigious ACIS Cassamarca positions. One of those positions is currently held by Professor Carolyn James . For the last several years the other position was held by Assoc. Professor Francesco Ricatti . However Francesco Ricatti's recent appointment to an Associate Professorship in Italian Studies at the Australian National University has opened up an opportunity for one of the ACIS community's most engaged and engaging members, Dr Barbara Pezzotti, to be inaugurated into the position.

Dr Pezzotti gained her PhD at Victoria University of Wellington. She is also a Chercheur associé at the Centre de la Méditerranée Moderne et Contemporaine (Université Côte d’Azur).

Her research interests include crime fiction and popular culture, literary geographies and utopian literature. She has published on Italian, Spanish, New Zealand and Scandinavian crime fiction.

She is the author of The Importance of Place in Contemporary Italian Crime Fiction. A Bloody Journey (Teaneck, NJ: The Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2012); Politics and Society in Italian Crime Fiction: An Historical Overview (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2014); and Investigating Italy’s Past through Crime Fiction, Films and TV Series: Murder in the Age of Chaos (London: Palgrave MacMillan, 2016).

Dr Pezzotti is the co-editor (with Jean Anderson and Carolina Miranda) of The Foreign in International Crime Fiction: Transcultural Representations (London: Continuum, 2012); Serial Crime Fiction. Dying for More (London and New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2015); and Blood on the Table: Essays on Food in International Crime Fiction (Jefferson NC: McFarland, 2018).

Her books have been positively reviewed in the most influential journals in Italian studies and in crime fiction/popular culture. They are also on the reading lists of crime fiction courses offered by UK and European universities. She is also the author of 24 peer-reviewed journal articles and 15 book chapters.

Her current research project is provisionally entitled “Mediterranean Crime Fiction: Place, Gender, Identity”.

Dr Pezzotti's reputation as a scholar has led to a number of invitations to present her research in seminars and workshops both in Australia and abroad: Queen’s University Belfast (2015, funded); Monash Prato Centre (2017; funded); Macquarie University, Sydney (2019), University of Bologna, Italy (funded, 2019), University of Urbino, Italy (funded, 2019), University of Milan (2020; funded), University of Newcastle (2021) and the University of Sydney (2020 and 2021).

She is a member of the Advisory Board of Cambridge University Press’s “Elements in Crime Narratives” book series and is a member of the Editorial Board of the Australian Journal, Spunti e Ricerche . She is also a member of the steering committee of the Australian European University Institute Fellowships (AEUIFAI) which provide postgraduate students and scholars the opportunity to carry out research at the European University Institute in Florence.

Dr Pezzotti was also the first Honorary Research Associate of the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies (ACIS), during which she was the lead coordinator of the project “Why Crime Fiction Matters” (WCFM, 2014-2016) which included the organisation of workshops and round-tables as well as the 2016 visit to Australia and New Zealand of Italian crime writer Giancarlo De Cataldo .

As well as being a regular contributor for “Il Sole 24 Ore”, the leading financial and economics newspaper in Italy, in 2022 she was appointed as a member of the international jury of the Premio Strega , the most prestigious literary prize in Italy. The Jury Abroad members are selected by the local Italian Cultural Institutes among distinguished scholars, artists, and translators living abroad.

She has a 12-year experience in coordinating and teaching Italian language and Italian and European culture at tertiary level and in developing new courses on crime fiction and popular culture, migrant literature, Italian cinema and European culture.

We are simply delighted to welcome Dr Pezzotti to the ACIS Cassamarca fold, and look forward very much to following her continuing career, reading her books, and listening to her research presentations.

Launch of the 'Italian Cinemas in Melbourne' project

Sun, 07 Aug 2022 13:20:05 GMT

Launching the ACIS Visual and Performance Studies group 's project: 'Italian Cinemas in Melbourne from Post War Migration to The Movie Show (SBS).'

There has been a great deal of interest in the first public event of the ACIS Visual and Performance Research Group’s project ‘Italian Cinemas in Melbourne from Post War Migration to The Movie Show (SBS).’ The launch event , sponsored by CO.AS.IT and to be held at their Melbourne premises on 16 August, is already fully subscribed with a waiting list.

However you can hear about the initiatives of the project in this recent interview with one of the group’s chief investigators, Elisabetta Ferrari, on SBS radio.

The project team is Santo Cilauro (Working Dog), Elisabetta Ferrari (University of Melbourne), Mark Nicholls (University of Melbourne), and Susanna Scarparo (University of Sydney). Their project aims to provide a comprehensive overview of ways in which Italian language cinemas contributed to the reception and distribution of Italian cinema in Melbourne from the post-WWII mass migration period until the advent of SBS in the late 1970s. For a great number of migrants, Italian language cinemas represented an important way to connect to their cultural heritage while also providing significant social and recreational opportunities. In the pre-SBS period various Melbourne cinemas and improvised screening spaces were dedicated to screening films exclusively in Italian. Consequently, the Italian language cinemas contributed significantly to reinforcing the developing multiculturalism in Melbourne.

If you are interested in hearing more about the project, and/or have stories or items that may be of interest for the group's forthcoming Italian Cinemas in Melbourne Podcast and Italian Cinema Posters exhibition, please contact either

Elisabetta Ferrari

Mark Nicholls

Vale Lorenzo Polizzotto: 11 November 1939–22 July 2022

Sun, 24 Jul 2022 14:36:18 GMT

Professor Lorenzo Polizzotto

11 November 1939, Palermo – 22 July 2022, Perth

Italianists in Australasia and worldwide will be deeply saddened to hear of the death of Professor Lorenzo Polizzotto on Friday 22 July in Perth.

A renowned historian of the Florentine Renaissance and Reformation, Lorenzo was a meticulous, rigorous historian whose relentless questioning of the archive (and of other scholars’ work) combined with his clear prose and imaginative turn of phrase, resulted in a remarkable contribution to our knowledge of the period.

Schooled, along with a generation of Renaissance historians, in the tutorials of Ian Robertson at the University of Melbourne, and then at Westfield College at the University of London under Nicolai Rubinstein and the group of scholars who gathered for Nicolai’s weekly seminars at the Institute of Historical Research, Lorenzo became the foremost scholar of the followers of the millenarian preacher Girolamo Savonarola.

Lorenzo’s attention to archival accuracy and scrupulous scholarship meant that his output was always of enormous value. His early monograph The Elect Nation: The Savonarolan Movement in Florence 1494-1545 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994) was followed by a series of articles and chapters which increasingly extended the chronology of his main research focus on what had motivated the Savonarolan imperative. A particular interest was the youth who gathered around Savonarola and their ongoing influence on the cultural and social landscape of Florence. This culminated in his 2004 publication Children of the Promise: The Confraternity of the Purification and the Socialization of Youths in Florence 1427-1785 (Oxford: Oxford Warburg Studies) .

More latterly he became interested in tracing the history of an investment device of Florentines in the period of the Medici Grand Duchy, the so-called censi . Lorenzo persuasively demonstrated that censi were extensively used in Florence, despite previous assumptions by economic historians to the contrary. Here he combined research from two Australia Research Council Discovery Project Grants, first on the Valori family and then on the censi themselves. The importance of this as the first study of its kind was recognized by the editors of Archivio storico italiano who published a substantial article of some 25,000 words by Lorenzo in 2010, ‘I censi consegnativi bollari nella Firenze granducale: storia di uno strumento di credito trascurato’ , Archivio Storico Italiano , 168.2 (624) (2010): 263-324.

Born in Palermo and subsequently emigrating with his family to Melbourne, Lorenzo spent the better part of his academic career in Perth, in the Italian Department at the University of Western Australia. It was there that a new generation of Italianists was trained.

A devoted and proud father and husband, Lorenzo will be missed enormously.

A lengthier tribute to Lorenzo is in preparation. If any readers have particular memories of Lorenzo that they wish to contribute, could you please send them to Catherine Kovesi .

A Spotlight on Italian at Flinders University – Introducing Stefano Bona

Mon, 06 Jun 2022 07:05:19 GMT

South Australia finds Stefano Bona far from his native Italy, but the ACIS Honorary Research Associate, and now Lecturer in Italian at Flinders University , brings a passion for languages, for screen studies, and for his home country to his Australian students.

Dr Stefano Bona, Lecturer in Italian at Flinders University. Photo credit: SZhang

As the only lecturer in Italian at Flinders University, Dr Bona is fully occupied with teaching at all year levels. Curiously, though he is an Italian, Dr Bona came to the teaching of his country’s language and culture via the Chinese language. Learning Chinese as part of his Masters Degree in Political Sciences at the University of Milan, he was posted to an Italian company in Shanghai and from thence to Adelaide. In Adelaide he pursued a Masters in Language Studies and then a PhD in Screen Studies at Flinders. His Italian background, and Chinese experience and expertise is reflected in his chosen area of study. He has written on Italian film makers in China , on Italian-Chinese film co-productions; and on the representation of China in Italian Cinema after 1949.

Stefano feels that, in these days of increasing pressure on the teaching of Italian and of languages in general in the tertiary sector, it is important to:

propose new cultural subjects (courses) to appeal to a larger number of students from any discipline who just want to take an elective, and use this as contact point to promote Italian courses;
build connections with business and industry, in order to show students real job opportunities for multilingual speakers;
make the case of the importance of languages in Aged care;
train Language teachers for primary and secondary schools;
explore cross-institutional synergies;
maintain connections with community and institutions.

ACIS wishes him well in his new position at Flinders, and looks forward to seeing the outcomes of his various endeavours and initiatives.

New ACIS-University of Melbourne Postdoctoral Fellow 2022

Thu, 02 Jun 2022 10:42:58 GMT

ACIS is delighted to announce that Dr Emma Barron is the new ACIS-University of Melbourne Postdoctoral Fellow, awarded for her project ‘Modern Women: Mass Culture and Social Change in Post-War Italy’.

Dr Emma Barron, the new ACIS-University of Melbourne Postdoctoral Fellow

Emma Barron may be familiar to readers of this 'Recent News' blog. Earning her doctorate at the University of Sydney, Emma was appointed to an ACIS Honorary Research Fellowship in 2017, and in 2019 was a recipient of an ACIS Save Venice Fellowship . Amongst her many publications, her Popular High Culture in Italian Media, 1950-1970: Mona Lisa Covergirl (Cham: Palgrave Macmillan, 2018) analyses the role of high culture in the formation of Italian mass culture.

Emma's postdoctoral project, 'Modern Women: Mass Culture and Social Change in Post-War Italy’ continues her interrogation of Italian mass culture. The project proposes to examine the pivotal role of Italy’s mass culture ‘boom’ in the circulation of ideas about modern Italy through magazines, television, and cinema. The project will write a history of post-war social change by exploring women’s access to ideas about the modern world and their place in it. The research analyses the impact of mass culture on audiences and the attempts by industry, the Italian State, and the Catholic Church to promote, manage or limit access to new ideas.

Letter to an advice column in the magazine Famiglia Cristiana 19 April 1964.

Emma is the second ACIS-University of Melbourne Postdoctoral Fellow, following on from Dr Laura Lori who completed her fellowship in 2021.

Emma's position will be located within the Faculty of Arts at the University of Melbourne, and ACIS remains incredibly grateful to the Faculty for its enthusiastic support and co-sponsorship of this postdoctoral initiative.

ACIS Research Groups - Successful Applicants!

Mon, 23 May 2022 06:51:23 GMT

ACIS is delighted to announce the successful applicants for its Research Groups for the period 2022-2024 in the categories: History and Social Science; Visual and Performance Studies; and Literature, Culture, Communication

In 2017, ACIS established three broad Research Groups to cover the variety of disciplines Italianists in Australasia engage in. These groups are: History and Social Science (HSS); Visual and Performance Studies (VPS); and Language, Culture, and Communication (LCC). The aim of these research groups is to organize research-related initiatives – workshops and seminars, small pilot projects, visits of overseas scholars, collaboration with Italy-oriented institutions – on key themes within their fields of interest. The initiatives are intended to provide an opportunity for scholars from the many fields under the broad heading of ‘Italian Studies’ to come together to discuss research interests and projects. In particular we hope it will offer regular opportunities for postgraduates and early career researchers to present their work and exchange ideas.

This year's call for applications to head a two-year research programme of activities was well subscribed, with many wonderful projects proposed. The decision of the adjudication committee was not easy, but three exciting projects were awarded funding in this round:

History and Social Science:

"Reframing, Revisiting or Removing: Making Fascism Visible in Contemporary Italy"

Debates in Italy on the physical remnants of fascism and imperialism that have intermittently surfaced in recent decades have been reinvigorated over the past couple of years in the context of international controversies over the fate of monuments to discredited figures and ideologies. In Italy, such controversies have historically not resulted in a concerted strategy to deal with painful memories, as public opinion moved on, marginalised the challenges, or coalesced around a deliberately ambiguous or short-term response.

The response (and lack of response) to the monuments, statues, landmarks or street names that reference or even celebrate Italy’s fascist and imperial past, demonstrates how hard it is for the country to separate the management of its fascist legacies from wider discourses on the nation’s history, where group memories, identities and politics intersect. The project will investigate this nexus.

Project Coordinators:

Giacomo Lichtner (Victoria University of Wellington)

Sally Hill (Victoria University of Wellington)

__________

Visual and Performance Studies:

"Italian Cinemas in Melbourne: From Post War Migration to The Movie Show (SBS)"

This project aims to provide a comprehensive overview of ways in which Italian language cinemas contributed to the reception and distribution of Italian cinema in Melbourne from the Post-WWII and mass migration periods until the advent of SBS in the late 1970s.

Although Italian language cinemas were made redundant with the institution of SBS and the digital and streaming formats that followed, for great number of Italians migrating to Australia in the early 1950s, they represented an important way to connect to their cultural heritage while also providing significant social and recreational opportunities. In the pre SBS period various Melbourne cinemas and improvised screening spaces were dedicated to screening films, and filmed sporting events, exclusively in Italian language - targeting the city’s large Italian speaking population. Consequently, the Italian language cinemas contributed to reinforcing the developing multi-culturalism of Melbourne.

The project will analyse the films screened, source primary accounts of their reception, and articulate an understanding of the curatorial aspects of their distribution and exhibition. This study will also help to ascertain the influence that the presence of Italian cinemas had on Italian and/or Australian filmmakers and the wider Melbourne community. To this end, the study will include analysis of media reports, artefacts related to the years of Italian cinemas in Melbourne such as posters, advertisements, foyer information and photographs, as well as personal recollections of members of the Italian language cinema-going communities.

Project coordinators:

Mark Nicholls (University of Melbourne)

Elisabetta Ferrari (University of Melbourne)

Santo Cilauro ( Working Dog Productions )

Susanna Scarparo (University of Sydney)

__________

Literature, Culture, Communication:

"From Lockdown to Liberation: Invisible Cities in Pandemic Times. An Ekphrastic and Multimodal Research Group Project"

Using an interdisciplinary and multimodal theoretical framework (adaptation studies, digital humanities, and graphic design) and adopting Calvino’s thematic framework in Invisible Cities, this project explores the emotional and narrative links between crisis and creativity and between liminality and liberation.

Italian nationals living in 30 countries will be invited to submit an image of their city in lockdown along with a 280-word tweet that describes the image and a title that uses one of the themes used by Calvino in Invisible Cities (cities and memory; cities and desire; cities and signs, thin cities, trading cities; cities and eyes; cities and names; cities and the dead; cities and the sky; continuous cities; hidden cities). The winning entries will then be digitally augmented to liberate each city from the paralysis of lockdown by bringing it back in time or into the future. The corpus of reflections generated by participants and the research group will be analysed to shed light on the processes of multimodal memory and storytelling.

Project coordinators:

Marco Sonzogni (Victoria University of Wellington)

Daniel Brown (Victoria University of Wellington)

Sydney Shep (Victoria University of Wellington)

Yanyuan Liang (Victoria University of Wellington)

Alice Charles (Victoria University of Wellington)

Julia Pelosi-Thorpe (University of Melbourne)

We wish all of these projects all the very best, and look forward to reporting on their various and exciting outcomes.

ACIS 11th Biennial Conference 'Frontiers, Encounters & Futures'

Fri, 08 Apr 2022 11:17:52 GMT

The Eleventh Biennial Conference of the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies will be held at The University of Western Australia on 12-14 December 2022. The 2022 conference theme is “Frontiers, Encounters and Futures”.

As mobility and encounter become more and more contested areas of cultural debate and political rhetoric, Italian Studies has a valuable contribution to make, from its many disciplinary perspectives. Italy’s long history is written in encounters at its internal frontiers –geographical, cultural, linguistic, political – and at its frontiers with the lands of the Mediterranean rim and continental Europe. Pertinent too are the movements and encounters of Italians beyond the sea and the Alps (and back again), and the movement of ‘others’ inside Italian frontiers. These experiences of internal and transnational disruption and transformation of constructed identities, along with the current challenges to our global futures, urge us to share opportunities, risks and solutions.

This conference welcomes critical reflections from all disciplines on the creation and evolution of frontiers, the dynamics of encounters and the shaping of futures for individuals, communities and collectivities that engage with Italy and Italians.

Keynote speakers are Professor Maurizio Ambrosini (University of Milan), Professor Carla Bagna (Università per stranieri di Siena), Professor Paolo Bartoloni (National University of Ireland), and Professor Victoria de Grazia (Columbia University).

ACIS held its first conference at the Australian National University in Canberra in 2001. The second conference was held at the University of Western Australia in 2003. Now, nearly two decades later, Italian Studies scholars will be welcomed once again to the beautiful campus of the University of Western Australia nestled against the picturesque Swan River. Explore this beautiful campus here .

The conference will be held in face-to-face mode, ‘in presenza’.

Special Edition of Fulgor edited by Luciana d'Arcangeli and Claire Kennedy

Mon, 04 Apr 2022 07:23:19 GMT

A special issue of the journal FULGOR , “Indelible / Indelebile: Representation in the Arts of (In)Visible Violence Against Women and their Resistance”, edited by Luciana d’Arcangeli and Claire Kennedy, is the latest outcome of the eponymous project by the ACIS Visual and Performance Studies research group (2018-2021)

“Transcending Appearances” by Lucienne Fontannaz:

“Through the mirror, within her and beyond visual appearances, the woman sees new depths of knowledge”.

The latest issue of the online free-access journal FULGOR (Flinders University Languages Group Online Review) is dedicated to a series of articles discussing aspects of the representation in the Arts of visible and invisible violence against women and their resistance. Edited by Luciana d'Arcangeli and Claire Kennedy , the articles have been grouped under a series of categories: Literary works and analysis; Creative practice; Television Series; and Italian Cinema. The various articles and their direct links are here below:

Contents:

Introduction: Indelible / Indelebile (Luciana d’Arcangeli and Claire Kennedy)

Literary works and analysis of literary works:

Prose poem “Christmas Day” / “Il giorno di Natale” (Stephanie Green; Italian translation by Luciana d’Arcangeli)
Potiphar’s Wife and Susanna: An intersectional reading of the biblical episodes (Genesis 39:6-20; Daniel 13) and a medieval Latin rewriting (Benedetta Viscidi)
Folktales and patriarchal ethics: Case study of the persecuted maiden in Giambattista Basile and Margaret Atwood (Matteo Cardillo)
The human-animal: Primality, rape, and resistance in Charlotte Wood’s The Natural Way of Things (Christie Fogarty)
Short story “Vagina Protest” (Elaigwu Ameh; with recorded reading by Luciana d’Arcangeli)

Creative practice:

Seeing through the bars; speaking our way out: How creative work helps us confront (in)visible violences in tertiary education and beyond (Corinna Di Niro and Amelia Walker)
Imaging Affront, Crisis and Survival (Lucienne Fontannaz)
Daphne: A violent libretto, annotated (Fleur Kilpatrick)

TV series:

Violence and the “Gothic New Woman” in Penny Dreadful (Stephanie Green)
A double take on sexual violence: Mirroring Spain’s La Manada rape trial in the television series La otra mirada (2018-2019) (B. Elisabeth Sim)

Italian cinema:

La vita (im)possibile delle donne nel cinema italiano (Vito Zagarrio)
Zavattini’s and Lizzani’s search for pure realism: Between political engagement and gendered structural violence on (un)real prostitutes (Marco Paoli)
Vesna va veloce: resistenza attraverso realtà e fantasia (Valentina Ippolito)

Breach of All Size: Small Stories on Ulysses, Love, and Venice

Mon, 07 Mar 2022 06:32:14 GMT

A collection of Flash Fiction, inspired by James Joyce's Ulysses and set in the city of Venice, has just been published by the city of Wellington's The Cuba Press , proudly supported by one of the ACIS 2021 Publishing Grants . Breach of All Size is a book celebrating and commemorating bridges, breaches, and anniversaries in which every aspect of the publication – its content as well as its presentation – is unified by a commitment to the endeavour at hand.

2021 marked 1,600 years since the legendary foundation of the city of Venice in 421.
2022 marks 100 years since the publication of James Joyce's work Ulysses , in 1922.

What, you might ask, do these two anniversaries have to do with each other? Where is the bridge between the two? And what might the bridge be between Venice and ... Aotearoa/New Zealand?

Enter the fertile minds of Marco Sonzogni and Michelle Evy .

James Joyce did not spend much time in the city of Venice, and its impression upon him seems not wholly remarkable. He famously ridiculed the Bridge of Sighs as the 'Breach of All Size' in Finnegan's Wake (136.24). For Sonzogni and Evy, however, the bridging of these two anniversaries was worth exploring. Added impetus came from the discovery that, on Captain James Cook's Endeavour, was a Venetian, Antonio Ponto, who left England in 1768 and arrived in the great uncharted southern lands in October 1769.

Sonzogni and Evy gave 36 Aotearoan writers either the opening or concluding lines from each of the 18 chapters of Ulysses . The only brief? To use these lines as the opener to a story on love, set in Venice, using 421 words – no more, no less. The main font chosen for the work is called 'Venice'; and the Australian designer of its cover, Matthew Revert , rendered the authors' names in a font called Calligraphic 421. As for his chosen colour scheme? the dark red is CMYK colour#421421 and the grey is Pantone colour 421. You will never again have an excuse to forget the founding year of Venice.

With a preface by Catherine Kovesi, and an introduction by Marco Sonzogni, the publication has stories by:
Anita Arlov • Ben Brown • Diane Brown • Gina Cole • Rijula Das • Lynley Edmeades • Alison Glenny • Trish Gribben • Jordan Hamel • Jenna Heller • Lloyd Jones • Anne Kennedy • Erik Kennedy • Fiona Kidman • Kerry Lane • Wes Lee • Renee Liang • Emer Lyons • Becky Manawatu •
S J Mannion • Selina Tusitala Marsh • Paula Morris • Emma Neale • James Norcliffe • Patrick Pink • Karen Phillips • Sudha Rao • Renée • Harry Ricketts • Jack Ross • Tracey Slaughter • Apirana Taylor • Catherine Trundle • Hester Ullyart • Ian Wedde • Sophia Wilson

Jessica O'Leary: Elite Women as Diplomatic Agents in Italy and Hungary

Mon, 28 Feb 2022 07:23:37 GMT

The publication of a first monograph is always a milestone in an academic career. ACIS is delighted to have supported the publication of Jessica O'Leary's monograph, Elite Women as Diplomatic Agents in Italy and Hungary, 1470-1510: Kinship and the Aragonese Dynastic Network (York: ARC Humanities Press, 2022) , through one of its 2021 Publishing Grants .

Jessica O'Leary is a Research Fellow at the Gender and Women's History Research Centre at the Australian Catholic University, and a former recipient of an ACIS Cassamarca Dino De Poli Scholarship for research in Italy (2016).

Jessica's new monograph explores the diplomatic role of women in early modern European dynastic networks through the study of Aragonese marriage alliances in late fifteenth-century Italy and Hungary. Her work challenges the frequent erasure of dynastic wives from diplomatic and political narratives to show how elite women were diplomatically active agents for two dynasties.

Successive chapters analyze the lives of Eleonora (1450-1493) and Beatrice d'Aragona (1457-1508), daughters of King Ferrante of Naples (1423-1494), and how they negotiated their natal and marital relationships to achieve diplomatic outcomes. While Ferrante expected his daughters to follow paternal imperatives and to remain engaged in collective dynastic strategy, the extent of his kinswomen's continued participation in familial projects was dependent on the nature of their marital relationships.

The book traces the access to these relationships that enabled courtly women to re-enter the diplomatic space after marriage, not as objects, but as agents, with their own strategies, politics, and schemes.

Winners Announced! ACIS Publication Prizes 2021

Tue, 08 Feb 2022 12:19:51 GMT

ACIS is delighted to announce the winners of the 2021 Jo-Anne Duggan Prize for a publication by a postgraduate/early career researcher, and the inaugural ACIS Publication Prize for an established scholar.

The ACIS Publication Prize for an established scholar has been awarded to Prof. Carolyn James for her monograph A Renaissance Marriage: The Political and Personal Alliance of Isabella d'Este and Francesco Gonzaga 1490-1519 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020).

This prize is awarded for peer-reviewed research published between 1 January 2019 and 31 December 2020 by an established academic in Australasia working in any field of Italian Studies. The research must have made a significant contribution to knowledge in the field of Italian Studies, broadly defined.

The adjudicators for this year's prize were Professor Emeritus Nerida Newbigin (University of Sydney) and Professor Emeritus Richard Bosworth (University of Oxford) who wrote in part:

“The outstanding features of this work are the rigorous control of the narrative that ranges over three courts and their ruling families, and at the same time the delicate sensitivity to the complex aspects of a relationship between two very headstrong people. This is a worthy recipient of the inaugural ACIS prize.”

___________________

The Jo-Anne Duggan Prize for a postgraduate/early career researcher has been awarded to Jennifer McFarland for her article “Relics, reinvention, and reform in Renaissance Venice: Catherine of Siena’s stigmata at the Basilica dei Santi Giovanni e Paolo”, Renaissance Studies , 34.2 (2020): 278-302.

This prize is awarded in memory of Jo-Anne Duggan, a champion of Italian Studies in Australasia, whose written and artistic oeuvre made a distinguished contribution to ACIS and the broader community, and whose life was cut short prematurely. The prize is awarded to a publication by a postgraduate or early career researcher in Italian Studies broadly defined within 5 years of the conferral of their award from an Australian or New Zealand University for a sole-authored work published between 1 January 2019 and 31 December 2020.

The adjudicators for this year's prize were Associate Professors Francesco Borghesi (University of Sydney) and Sally Hill (Victoria University of Wellington). They wrote in conclusion:

“The article moves from the detail of the relic of Saint Catherine’s foot within its reliquary in the Basilica dei Santi Giovanni e Paolo in Venice to a wide-ranging consideration of the categories of ‘reformed ‘ and ‘unreformed’ and of shifts in devotional practices in early modern Venetian and Italian religion. It demonstrates impressive scholarship and detailed research, and provides a strong example of the value of careful consideration of material and visual culture in historical research.”

___________________

Both winners are invited to present a paper based on their award-winning publication and/or its ongoing research at the ACIS Conference 2022 .

We extend our warmest congratulations to both Professor James, and Ms McFarland.

'Giorgione dopo Sydney - Ipotesi di ricerca': Webinar and Roundtable

Sat, 05 Feb 2022 02:06:46 GMT

A webinar in Sydney will discuss the extraordinary discovery – in an edition of Dante’s Divine Comedy held at the University of Sydney Library – of a death notice written above a red chalk sketch of a Madonna and child, which could be attributed to Italian Renaissance artist Giorgione.

1510 IHS Maria

A dì 17 setenbrio Morì zorzo[ne] da Castelo francho di peste

fintore excelentisimo da peste in Venezia de

anni 36 & requiese in pace

In September 2017, in a 1497 incunabula of Dante's Divina Commedia held by the University of Sydney library, Kim Wilson, the library's academic liaison, discovered something extraordinary on the back of the final page. On the page was a red chalk sketch of a Madonna and child and, above it, an ink inscription with the death notice of the elusive Renaissance artist, Giorgione. This 1510 inscription not only gave a precise date of, and age at, death of Giorgione, but allowed for a possible attribution of this chalk sketch to the artist himself. This was all the more remarkable given that there are only two other sketches in the world attributed to Giorgione. Further verification work around this sketch and the inscription was undertaken by the Art Gallery of NSW, The National Gallery in London, and Professor Emeritus Jaynie Anderson from the University of Melbourne. The discovery and issues of attribution were detailed in the Burlington Magazine, March 2019, vol. 163, 'Giorgione in Sydney', authored by Kim Wilson, Jaynie Anderson, Professor Emeritus Nerida Newbigin and Julie Sommerfeldt , and were also the focus of an ABC radio interview with Kim Wilson and Jaynie Anderson .

Now the University of Sydney's Department of Italian Studies and the University of Sydney Library in collaboration with the Italian Cultural Institute have drawn together a stellar group of speakers to discuss further aspects of this remarkable find in a free zoom webinar and roundtable presented in Italian:

'Giorgione dopo Sydney - ipotesi di ricerca'

February 22 2022 at 7:00pm AEDT, and at 9:00am CET (Pisa)

Join online via Zoom

Introduced by Francesco Borghesi from the University of Sydney, the speakers will include world-renowned archaeologist and art historian Salvatore Settis and well-known paleographer Giulia Ammannati (both from the Scuola Normale Superiore, Pisa); Jaynie Anderson (University of Melbourne), Nerida Newbigin (University of Sydney), John Gagné (University of Sydney), Lillo Guarneri (Istituto Italiano di Cultura, Sydney) and Philip Kent (University of Sydney Library).

Schedule:

9.00/19.00 Introduzione al seminario : Francesco Borghesi (University of Sydney)

9.05/19.05 Saluti : Lillo Guarneri (Istituto Italiano di Cultura, Sydney)

9.10/19.10 Saluti : Philip Kent (University of Sydney Library)

9.15/19.15 Introduzione allo status quaestionis : Jaynie Anderson (University of Melbourne)

9.30/19.30 Doppie verità? Serie stilistica/documentaria, datazione relativa/assoluta: Salvatore Settis (Scuola Normale Superiore)

La concezione evoluzionistica degli stili artistici conduce a costruire determinate “serie stilistiche”, che talora si scontrano con evidenze documentarie. In una “serie stilistica” le opere di un determinato artista (per esempio, Giorgione) si succedono secondo un ‘prima’ e un ‘poi’, una sequenza di datazioni relative coerenti; ma non si può passare alla cronologia assoluta (calendariale) senza qualche aggancio documentario inconfutabile. Che succede quando un nuovo documento irrompe sulla scena, modifica la cronologia assoluta, scompagina quella relativa?

10.00/20.00 La mano della nota Sydney sulla morte di Giorgione: prime ipotesi: Giulia Ammannati (Scuola Normale Superiore)

L’intervento discuterà le caratteristiche grafiche e testuali della nota e proporrà una prima ipotesi di confronto per la mano, forse identificabile con quella di un pittore attestato nella bottega di Cima da Conegliano fra gli ultimi anni del Quattrocento e i primi del Cinquecento, dove esegue alcuni cartigli in quattro opere del maestro. Autore della nota potrebbe dunque essere un collega di Giorgione, suo amico o conoscente, nonché grande estimatore.

10.30/20.30 Tavola rotonda virtuale ( Giulia Ammannati, Jaynie Anderson, Francesco Borghesi, John Gagné, Lillo Guarneri, Nerida Newbigin, Salvatore Settis ).

11.00/21.00 Termine del seminario .

For further information , contact Francesco Borghesi .

ACIS-University of Melbourne Postdoctoral Fellowship Applications Now Open

Wed, 02 Feb 2022 12:29:25 GMT

ACIS is delighted to announce that we are once again collaborating with the Faculty of Arts at the University of Melbourne to offer a two-year Postdoctoral Fellowship in Italian Studies - broadly understood - commencing in 2022.

The field includes Italian disciplines in the humanities and social sciences such as Italian language and literature, Italian linguistics, visual and performance studies (Italian art, cinema, television, theatre, music), Italian history, Italian art history, Italian sociology, Italian anthropology, Italian migration studies, and Italian politics. The Fellow can therefore collaborate with any relevant School or programme in the Faculty of Arts.

The successful applicant will have an emerging track record of research on, engagement with, and clear interest in, Italian Studies well aligned to the research strengths of the Faculty of Arts. They will demonstrate a commitment to working collaboratively in research groups, with colleagues, students and partners, as a proactive member of the Faculty’s core academic community.

Reporting to the Associate Dean, Research, and receiving formal mentorship from a relevant discipline Chair, the postdoctoral position’s primary focus is on research (at least 0.8 full time equivalent), but the candidate may also contribute to the undergraduate teaching programmes of their allied discipline area (no more than 0.2 full time equivalent).

Applicants should have an emerging track record of research publications engaged with Italian Studies issues and debates, and a clearly articulated research proposal with an aspect of Italian Studies as its main focus. To be eligible for this role you will need Australian or New Zealand citizenship; or Australian or New Zealand permanent residency; or hold an Australian Temporary Graduate Visa (subclass 485) expiring after the end of 2023.

Ideally, you will further have:

A PhD from an Australian or New Zealand University since January 2017 in Italian Studies
Near-native or native written and verbal English communication skills, and a level of Italian language competency equivalent to B2 or higher ( see Common European Framework of Reference [CEFR])

APPLICATIONS CLOSE 22 February, 2022

Farewells and a Welcome: ACIS Cassamarca Positions Update

Sat, 22 Jan 2022 20:59:24 GMT

The flagship philanthropic endeavour of the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies is the ACIS Cassamarca appointments in Italian Studies, as well as the ACIS Cassamarca Chair in Latin Humanism, all established thanks to a substantial bequest from the Fondazione Cassamarca , Treviso. The Cassamarca appointees research and teach in a variety of discipline areas under the overall rubric of Italian Studies.

In 2021 two of our ACIS Cassamarca appointees, Associate Professor Nick Eckstein (University of Sydney) and Dr Luciana d’Arcangeli (Flinders University), concluded their positions. Both Nick and Luciana have been great advocates for Italian Studies in Australasia as well as internationally and we thank them for their active contributions to ACIS and wish them both well for the next phase in their academic and personal lives.

We are pleased to announce that Dr John Gagné has accepted the ACIS Cassamarca position at the University of Sydney, commencing in January 2022. John completed his BA at the University of Toronto and his PhD at Harvard University, and he has taught at the University of Sydney since 2010. John is a historian of Italy from the fourteenth to the seventeenth centuries with a particular focus on the Italian Wars of the sixteenth century. He was Francesco de Dombrowski Fellow at Villa I Tatti, the Harvard University Center for Italian Renaissance Studies in 2016-17; and the Australian Research Council funded his project on writing paper and the challenge of obsolescence and lost documentation in early modern Europe from 2017-21. His book, Milan Undone: Contested Sovereignties in the Italian Wars (Harvard University Press) appeared in 2021.

Among other areas, his research explores material culture, gender, and the cultural history of war. He is currently at work on study of the materiality of premodern flags and banners with the art historian Timothy McCall . At Sydney he is also director of the Medieval and Early Modern Centre.

We are delighted to welcome John Gagné into the ACIS family.

Applications Now Open for ACIS Research Group Projects

Mon, 17 Jan 2022 10:43:01 GMT

With the aim of stimulating research activities across the varied disciplines that constitute Italian Studies in Australasia, ACIS is calling for proposals for group research projects for the period 2022-2023 under three broad categories of Italian Studies:

History and Social Sciences (HSS)
Visual and Performance Studies (VPS)
Language, Culture and Communication (LCC)

These research groups are encouraged to organize research-related initiatives such as workshops and seminars, pilot projects, visits of scholars, collaboration with Italy-oriented institutions on a theme/s within their discipline grouping. They are also required to produce published and other scholarly outputs. The involvement of postgraduates and early career researchers in the project is strongly encouraged.

An annual sum of up to $10,000 will be made available to successful projects over a two-year period (with possible renewal for a third).

Applicants should submit proposals addressing the following criteria:

1. A project descriptor of up to 350 words which will include:

project title and chosen Research Group category;
project aims;
key research questions;
core research activities;
projected outcomes;
intervarsity and/or community group involvement;
ways in which the project seeks to involve postgraduate/ECR researchers.

2. An itemised annual budget for each year of the project.

3. Names and contact details of the Project Coordinator/s and other proposed group members.

4. The CV of the Project Coordinator/s

Proposals should be submitted by email and addressed to:

The ACIS Research Group Projects Committee

c/o Elisabetta Ferrari, Project Officer

acis.org.au@gmail.com

The closing date for applications is 28 February, 2022.

Applicants will be notified by mid March 2022 as to the success of their project.

Click here for a PDF with the application details .

For any queries please contact either Catherine Kovesi or Elisabetta Ferrari at acis.org.au@gmail.com .

Dante on Screen: the Helios and Milano Infernos (1911)

Wed, 22 Dec 2021 06:59:20 GMT

"Few if any pictures screened on the fields have created such sensation".

"Remember 3 days only, and at matinees.

Souvenirs given away to the ladies.

Be sure and get a little devil".

The Inferno on celluloid
It's a truth universally acknowledged, as a great English writer might put it, that Dante's Divina Commedia marked the first, and definitive, milestone in Italian literature. Much less well known, however, is the fact that the first film adaptation of the Inferno , the first cantica of Dante's epic poem, made in Italy at the very beginning of the silent period by the Milano Films company , represented a similar landmark in Italian ̶ and, indeed, world ̶cinema.

Released both at home and internationally in 1911, only six years after filmmaking had really begun in earnest in Italy, and at a time when most films everywhere were still only one or two-reelers usually lasting no more than 20-30 minutes, the Milano Inferno distinguished itself in two ways. First, it shouldered the daunting task of transposing such a great and complex literary work into the newly-established art of the moving image. Second, it did so by adopting the format of what would become the standard model of the full-length feature film, that is, lasting well over an hour (the original program actually said two hours), and so able to provide a whole evening's entertainment. This was thus a truly groundbreaking film, opening up new vistas for the cinema.

Basing films on literary works had easily slipped into being a common practice in filmmaking generally, but it emerged as a particularly strong tendency in the earliest days of the Italian silent cinema. Adaptations ranged widely from attempted transpositions of the sensationalistic best-sellers of popular literature to the venerated major works of the Western canon. Given the intensity of its dramatic stories and the variety of its memorable characters, Dante's Inferno had quickly attracted the attention of filmmakers as source material for their moving pictures. As early as 1907 the American Vitagraph company had released a 16 minute Francesca di Rimini , although arguably based more on theatrical representations of Dante's most seductive sinner than on Dante's own text. Early in 1909 in Italy, the Turin-based Itala company had issued a similarly-short but highly praised Il Conte Ugolino . In the same year the newly-constituted SAFFI-Comerio Company, headed by pioneering documentary filmmaker and official photographer to the Royal House of Savoy, Luca Comerio, decided to take the bull by the horns and embrace the ambitious project of a filmic adaptation of the whole Inferno .

As daunting as the project must have been, it had clearly made quite some headway if in late 1909 the company was able to present sections of what it had already managed to create, if only under the more hesitant title of Saggi dell'Inferno dantesco , at the first International Film Competition in Milan, garnering much critical praise for it, and being awarded a Gold Medal by the Italian Department of Industry and Agriculture. By this time, however, completion of the project had come to be at risk due to the company's financial difficulties. A solution soon emerged, however, as Luca Comerio willingly left the company in order to continue making his prize-winning documentaries, and the SAFFI-Comerio morphed into Milano Films, with a new Board of Administration made up largely of the cream of the crop of Milanese nobility, which included, among others, the venerable names of Count Pier Gaetano Venino (Chairman), Prince Urbano Del Drago, Baron Paolo Airoldi di Robbiate and Count Giovanni Visconti di Modrone. These entrepreneur noblemen brought with them a new and much needed injection of capital but, most importantly, also strong moral support for the Inferno project which they came to regard as a fitting contribution to fulfilling their philanthropic duty to educate the populace and help spread Italian culture. When in May 1910 the company was able to finance the construction of a large new studio complex with the most up-to-date facilities, the co-directors, Adolfo Padovan and Francesco Bertolini, were given the green light and the Inferno project was back on track to completion.

Two Infernos?

Despite the studio's efforts to keep what had become a mega-production under wraps, the contrasting stratagems of the film's designated distributor, Gustavo Lombardo (later to found his own production company, Titanus) in continuing to leak information about the film's coming release, attracted the attention of Helios Film, a small recently-formed film production company, based in the small Southern Italian city of Velletri.

With the intention of exploiting for its own benefit all the public interest and excitement which Lombardo's publicity campaign for the Milano Films' big-budget Inferno was continuing to generate, the Helios company threw itself into production and in January 1911 was able to release its own Inferno , beating the release of the Milano Films' version by close to three months. Lasting less than 20 minutes, and with its limited budget and hasty production very much on view, the film exhibited no pretensions to completeness – its 23 scenes and 18 inter-titles patently presenting only a smattering of characters and events from Dante's journey among the damned – but, though inevitably criticised for what it had failed to do, it also managed to attract a modicum of praise for its effort, not least because within six months it had also managed to film and release a follow-up Purgatorio .

The Milano Films' Inferno

In contrast to the Helios production's rough-and-ready manner, the Milano's approach was more respectful and, above all, systematic. Not making the film simply for profit but motivated, at least in part, by a pedagogical intent, the company committed a lot of time, effort and resources to what it regarded as a major project. The film was in the end reputed to have cost 100,000 lira, an unprecedented amount for a film until that time (Helios had, in fact, only spent 8,000 lira and, indeed, it showed). Most importantly, it dared to adopt a much longer format which allowed it to follow Dante systematically as he progressed through his myriad infernal encounters. Structured as three parts consisting of 54 scenes and 61 inter-titles, the film was thus able to portray Dante's epic journey close to its entirety rather than just furnishing snippets, as the Helios production had chosen to do (patently acknowledging how little of the journey it had actually covered, Helios also released its film under the title of Visions of Hell ). Importantly, the length and the systematic approach allowed the makers to portray Dante's psychological and moral development, progressing from his naivety in the earliest cantos where he partially empathises with the sinners, to being able to kick heads and tear out the hair of one of most heinous sinners stuck in the frozen lake of Cocytus, significantly only a stone's throw away from looming Lucifer himself.

Sensibly, the visual style of the film came to be modelled on the illustrations of Gustave Doré which had circulated widely in Italy, not least featured in an authoritative edition of the Commedia published in the 1860s by the Sonzogno company and edited by Eugenio Camerini. The scenes were thus easily recognizable by most people and must have furnished a comforting sense of familiarity. This must have also helped to make the almost wall-to-wall nudity of the damned souls unobjectionable and uncontroversial - indeed the nudity appears to have been hardly noticed by either critics or audiences at the time. Where the Dantean text was most fantastical the creators resorted to a judicious use of the tried and true Méliès stratagems and, mostly, to good effect. It's true that the special effects don't always work as well as they might but the masking strategies in a scene like that of one of the major sowers of discord, Bertrand De Born, who appears headless but holding aloft his own head like a lantern, would probably still shock the modern viewer. Almost unnoticeable now, however, might be the camera panning to follow the characters' movements, which occurs, admittedly only now and then and especially in some of the earlier scenes, since the technique is now an essential part of film language. But perhaps the film's innovativeness and sophistication of film language emerges most clearly in its use of flashbacks in the pilgrim's encounter with the three most memorable characters of Francesca, Pier della Vigna and Ugolino, a strategy which allows it to present discrete stories within stories, highlighting and reproducing Dante's own great gift for embedding narratives within narratives everywhere in the Commedia .

In creating a first-class artistic product, the company also did well to choose Gustavo Lombardo as exclusive distributor for the film. A great pioneer and innovator in the field of film distribution in Italy, Lombardo continued to leak "indiscretions" about the film as it was being made in his own trade journal, Lux (while, from the same pages, eventually excoriating the Helios version when it was released). When the film had been completed Lombardo organised gala premieres with invited audiences and even engineered a special preview for the King of Italy, a move that stood the film in good stead in its distribution both at home and abroad. The invited audience at one of the most glamorous gala premieres, one held at the prestigious Teatro Mercadante of Naples, numbered many of the most important names of Italian culture at the time, including the philosopher Benedetto Croce and well-known writers, Roberto Bracco and Matilde Serao. In a review in a major newspaper the next day, Serao confessed to herself, and all her fellow intellectuals, having been enthralled by the film the previous evening and now being converts to the notion of cinema as an art form. This was publicity you couldn't pay for. In addition, the canny Lombardo immediately set about, and succeeded in, getting the film officially registered as copyright, another important first in the history of Italian cinema.

For its international distribution, Lombardo licensed the Paris-based Monopol Film Company which then distributed the film through its subsidiaries in Britain and America. Lombardo also organised a special screening in Paris after which Ricciardo Canudo, the famous early theoretician of cinema as art, greatly praised the film in the public lecture he held on Dante at the École des Hautes Études. Its subsequent release in Britain characterised it as "The Film Masterpiece of the Immortal Literary Masterpiece" and the film became a huge box office success. The film similarly impressed in America where the much-respected trade journal, The Moving Picture World , judged it to be "exceedingly faithful to the words of the poet". It suggested that what had been created was a "Dante intelligible to the masses" and that: "To the artists, who have given us this visualization, we owe a debt of gratitude second only to that due to the great poet himself". The reviewer in The New York Dramatic Mirror concurred with such high praise, styling the film "a vast and wonderful achievement [...] that shows to what heights the motion picture can attain in treating a great subject".

Two Infernos in Australia

Especially for Australian lovers of Italian cinema, it's interesting to note that both films also made it Down Under. Perhaps it's unsurprising that the Helios film arrived in Australia first, although it is surprising that the Milano version, given the success it had immediately achieved internationally, took so long to get here.

The Helios Inferno is recorded as arriving in Australia in May 1911, opening in Sydney at J.D. Williams' Lyric Theatre on 22 May in a program featuring, as was the widespread practice at the time, four other disparate films. It was advertised as "A Masterpiece in biographical art" whose exclusive rights in Australia been purchased "at enormous expense" by Mr J. D Williams. In his typical showman style, Williams promised that 500 little devil souvenirs would be given away at the event. There were continuous screenings on the hour and The Bulletin reported that, nevertheless, there continued to be crowds outside waiting to get in. Two weeks' later the film moved to Tasmania where on 7 June it appeared in Launceston, in a program also featuring a version of The Marriage of Figaro made by the Italian Cines company, and with the accompaniment of what was described as a "Tannhauser score". It subsequently screened in Hobart (12 June) before beginning to travel the breadth of the Wide Brown Land, starting with Kalgoorlie, where it attracted crowded houses at the Theatre Royal for a week, always in programs that included several other films. A newspaper report around the end of its run highlighted the film's "most striking realism" and suggested that: "Few if any pictures screened on the fields have created such sensation". It then moved to Perth where, beginning 4 July, it appeared for a week at the Shaftsbury Gardens Cinema; press reports specified that it was a 23-scene coloured photoplay, confirming for us that, contrary to popular belief, silent films were often coloured. At around the same time it surfaced in several locations in regional Queensland, appearing on a double bill with a Vitagraph A Tale of Two Cities on 3 July at Fowler's Pictures in Maryborough and a day later at West's Pictures in Gympie. In August it settled into a solid season in Melbourne at the Lyric Theatre, in Prahran (only shown in the evenings because "quite beyond the comprehension of children" but "a most artistic and impressive presentation"). At the end of August it had another short season in Tasmania. In September it was shown at Bendigo's Lyric Theatre (11 September ) and at the end of the month (26-27 September) at Brisbane's Earl's Court Cinema. It then had another season at Port Adelaide's Empire Picture Palace (23-28 October) although by this time it had acquired something of a rival. At the beginning of October the Prahran Lyric Theatre had begun showing what it advertised as "The most comical pantomime ever !! / Pathé Frères' travesty, / HELL UP TO DATE! / A Screaming Burlesque of / Dante's Inferno . / A Gorgeous Absurdity! / The Ridiculous Adventures of Satan / and his Naughty Son / in their Own Little Warm Home!!!". It's difficult to tell how much such a spoof may have impacted on the Helios film's own drawing power. Whatever the case, it does seem that, following its Adelaide season that year, the film disappeared from sight.

The international reputation of the Milano Films' Inferno appears to have only begun to filter through to Australia in the first months of 1912. Following scattered reports about the film's extraordinary success overseas, in June the Sydney papers began to carry the announcement that negotiations to bring the film to Australia with rights holders, Universal Films, had concluded successfully, and the film would premiere at the Sydney Town Hall on 3 July. It's worth noting that, at the time, the Helios version was still showing, if only sporadically, in small regional towns like Ballarat (at the Coliseum on 2 May) and Geelong (the Mechanics Hall, 25 June).

Throughout June, repeated announcements regarding the upcoming premiere of the film built up expectations. On 3 July, all the Sydney newspaper advertisements for the event began with the statement "This film must not be confused with any other by the same name", which had been one of the conditions which Lombardo had imposed on distributors, mandating that such a declaration be prominently displayed whenever and wherever the film was being shown. After a long quote from the laudatory review of the film in The Moving Picture World , the advertisements also printed the translation of a letter of commendation of the film from the King of Savoy, before providing the details regarding screening times and prices. Bizarrely, printed in the next column – literally alongside it in the Sydney Morning Herald – the American Picture Palace advertised its day's program as: "A Mammoth Star Program including DANTE'S INFERNO: A Masterpiece Sensational Dramatic Photo-play / holding the audience spellbound". At the same time, slightly above it, the advertisement regarding what was on offer at J.D. Williams' Lyric Theatre, announced the screening of what it called "The World's Great Masterpiece, The Sensation of All Sensations, Helio's [sic] Divine Comedy : today DANTE'S INFERNO". It clarified that it would be shown only at matinees and ended with the injunction to "Remember 3 days only, and at matinees / souvenirs given away to the ladies./ Be sure and get a little devil". Thus, in the most uncanny way, it would seem that the old rivalry between the versions was coming to being played out in the Great South Land thousands of miles away from where they had both originated! In what could have been a response to Williams' little devils offered at the door, but indeed may have been intended all along, the premiere screenings of the Milano version at the Town Hall included the presence of what was reported in the press as "a scarlet-clad interpreter, presumably intended to represent Mephistopheles, who delivers a preliminary lecture".

At the end of its premiere at the Sydney Town Hall and, as always, introduced in the papers by the declaration that it must not be confused with its impostor namesake, the Milano Inferno moved to a three-day season at Brisbane's His Majesty's Theatre (9-11 July). After single screenings in regional towns in NSW – at Tamworth (19 July) and Maitland (22 July) – it moved to four days at the Melbourne Town Hall (9-12 August). On its way back to Sydney it had one-night stands in Wellington (16 August) and Dubbo (17 August) before another three-day season in Sydney at the Burlington Great Star Picture Theatre (19-21 August). It was subsequently shown for 6 nights in Adelaide at the Town Hall Wondergraph (21-26 August) and then a single screening in Bathurst (4 September) before another very solid season in Melbourne where it screened at both the Brunswick and the Fitzroy Lyric Theatres and at the Hoyts in the St George Mall at the same time (23-29 September). After surfacing for a night in Townsville (9 October) it appears to sink out of sight for several months before reappearing on 14 March 1913 at the Snowden Cinema in Melbourne. It was back in Adelaide for six nights, beginning 7 May. At the end of May it had a single screening in the regional NSW town of Hay. Ironically, advance publicity underscored the fact that this was not the same as "the awful imitation picture" shown previously, presumably referring to the Helios version; in the event, from a subsequent press report, the Hay audience seemed to have also found this version disappointing). After single screenings in a number of other towns in regional NSW - at Junee (28 August), at Cootamundra (30 August), and again in Maitland (3 September), its last reported screening in Australia would seem to have been in the Protestant Hall, Queanbeyan, on 27 September, thanks to the generous intervention of the curiously-named Swastika Picture Company.

A Milestone Lost and Found

The historic leap forward achieved by the Milano Films' Inferno rather faded from view in the following years as Italian cinema went through its first Golden Age. By the time Italy joined the First World War, the apex of that production would be regarded as having been reached not by an adaptation of Dante but by the Itala company's Cabiria , a stunningly extravagant and monumental three-hour epic set in Roman times. While there would be many films about Dante, or drawn from parts of his Commedia , in the following years, there would be no other attempt to film the entire Inferno . A lack of interest in those years regarding the cinema of the silent period further contributed to erase the memory of the Milano's cinematic milestone. However in the 1980s, a scholarly revival of interest in the history of Italian silent cinema led to a reappraisal of the film's place in that history, a reappraisal aided by a rediscovery of more complete copies of the film. In 2007 a careful restoration of the film was carried out by the Bologna Cínemathèque, and later released on DVD. It is now also freely available on YouTube (as below).

Gino Moliterno is a Senior Lecturer in Film and New Media at the Australian National University.

Oodgeroo Noonuccal, My People. La mia gente. Edited by Margherita Zanoletti

Tue, 14 Dec 2021 09:10:52 GMT

A metal plaque set in the sidewalk at Circular Quay, Sydney, commemorating author and poet Oodgeroo Noonuccal as part of the Sydney Writers Walk series. Wikimedia commons.

Margherita Zanoletti, a graduate of the University of Sydney and currently serving as Modern Languages reference librarian at the Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore in Milan, has just published a critical edition in Italian of First Nations author Oodgeroo Noonuccal's My People (1970): Oodgeroo Noonuccal, My People . La mia gente, a cura di Margherita Zanoletti, con un testo di Alexis Wright. Milano: Mimesis. Collana “Eterotopie” diretta da Pierre Dalla Vigna e Salvo Vaccaro, n. 710, 348 pp., ISBN: 9788857576763.

Oodgeroo Noonuccal's My People is today considered a classic of postcolonial literature, and this volume is the first translation of her writings into Italian. This anthology gives voice to the Australian Indigenous peoples – marginalized, decimated and evicted from their own lands with the arrival of European colonisers. Oodgeroo is the first recorded aboriginal Poetess. Her literary journey, begun in the mid 1960s with the collection We Are Going , published under her anglicised name of Kath Walker, was conflated into My People. Oodgeroo's poetry recovers and rewrites aboriginal oral and cultural traditions, reclaiming at the same time rights negated by political governors.

The volume features the original text by Oodgeroo with the first Italian translation of the poems. The publication is enriched with an extensive introduction and a glossary. It also includes a text by Alexis Wright (Boisbouvier Chair in Australian Literature, University of Melbourne), translated into Italian.

The book (in printed and digital formats) can be ordered by clicking on the book image below, with an excerpt also available.

Italian in Australia: Perspectives and trends in the teaching of language and culture

Thu, 02 Dec 2021 14:13:50 GMT

Readers may be interested in the publication of a new bilingual volume edited by Antonia Rubino , Anna Rita Tamponi and John Hajek , L'italiano in Australia. Prospettive e tendenze nell'insegnamento della lingua e della cultura/Italian in Australia. Perspectives and trends in the teaching of language and culture (Florence: Cesati, 2021).

The volume offers insights into the positioning of the Italian language within the current framework of language policy in Australia, and illustrates the teaching of the Italian language and culture in a range of sectors, particularly in recently established bilingual schools and in universities. It contains chapters by Joe Lo Bianco , Angela Scarino , Sara Villella , Sharon Brissoni , Vincenza Tudini , Marinella Caruso and Joshua Brown , John Hajek and Riccardo Amorati , Anna Rita Tamponi, John Kinder , Matt Absalom and Antonia Rubino.

As described in the publisher's summary:

Nell’attuale panorama dell’insegnamento dell’italiano come seconda lingua a livello internazionale, l’Australia presenta il maggior numero di studenti al mondo, con circa 400.000 apprendenti fra scuole e università. I saggi raccolti in questo volume bilingue, scritti da esponenti di spicco della ricerca linguistica e culturale in Australia, contribuiscono a spiegare questa presenza diffusa che è il frutto di un insieme di fattori. Dopo l’introduzione in cui i curatori contestualizzano gli interventi fornendo dati aggiornati sull’insegnamento dell’italiano a tutti i livelli scolastici, i capitoli della prima sezione illustrano la posizione dell’italiano nell’ambito della politica linguistica australiana e alcuni aspetti dell’insegnamento bilingue nelle scuole elementari e dell’insegnamento a distanza nelle università, incluse le motivazioni per la scelta dell’italiano. Nella seconda sezione si presentano riflessioni linguistiche e sperimentazioni didattiche che riguardano l’utilizzo nella classe di italiano L2 di varie tematiche linguistico-culturali: specificamente, l’e-italiano, i disegni di Fellini e i fumetti, il cinema italiano e il doppiaggio in particolare, il teatro di Fo e la musica italiana.

Click here for further details and to order.

Sir James Gobbo: 22 March 1931 - 7 November 2021

Thu, 18 Nov 2021 11:20:00 GMT

Photo: Melbourne University Press

Tribute to Sir James Gobbo

St Patrick's Cathedral

16 November 2021

Jim Gobbo rendered distinguished service to his country, his State, and his community, throughout his adult life. On the Friday before he was called from this life, Jim was at Caritas Christi Hospice, with a fellow Knight of the Order of Malta, inspecting works undertaken and proposed at the Hospice. As the Governor has mentioned, Sir James Gobbo was a predecessor in the office of Governor of Victoria and before that he was Lieutenant Governor. He was a Judge of the Supreme Court of Victoria. He was Chair of the National Library of Australia, of the Council for the Order of Australia, of the National Advisory Commission on Ageing, in each case for a long period of office. He was a member, chairman or patron of numerous bodies, committees and organisations established by governments. He also served with distinction many other organisations, not established by government, including the Ian Potter Foundation, The Humanities Foundation of the University of Melbourne, bodies connected with the Catholic Church, Italy, hospitals, migration, multicultural affairs, scholarships, opera, scouts and environmental causes. (He was chief scout in Victoria for 10 years, and there are photos of Jim in uniform to prove it.) His leadership of Co. As. It , the Italian welfare agency, is a particular instance of his work for Italians in Australia. He also had a special commitment to St Vincent’s and Mercy hospitals.

Jim not only served established institutions and organisations. I wish to mention three bodies, in the work of which he was closely involved, and of each of which he was a founder. Each is connected with his cultural heritage or his Catholic faith.

In 1988, Australia’s bicentennial year, Jim was the moving force in the establishment of the Palladio Foundation, later renamed the International Specialised Skills Institute , the purpose of which was to assist Australian artisans and craftsmen and women to travel abroad, particularly to Italy, to develop their skills. The purpose of the Institute reflects Jim Gobbo’s lifelong commitment to the basal values of our society and to encouraging skills, the exercise of which upholds those values and enriches cultural life. In his work for the Skills Institute, as in so much else, his Italian heritage is evident.

Jim was deeply committed to the work of the Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of St John of Jerusalem of Rhodes and of Malta . I believe the heroic 900 year history of the Order had an emotional appeal to him as a person committed to upholding the Christian heritage of European civilization. He was a founding member of the Australian Association of the Order in 1974 and in 1982 became a Knight Grand Cross of Magistral Grace of the Order. Of all his service to his Church and his community, his commitment to the work of the Order was, I believe, closest to his heart. As the Order requires of its members, Jim served his Lords, the poor and the sick, and upheld the Christian and Catholic faith. He undertook his work as a member of the Order with devotion and humility. In his 80s, on winter nights, with young companions from Newman College, and elsewhere, who knew him only as Jim, he distributed clothing and provided comfort and support to the homeless of our city. But I must emphasise that this was but one of the many practical works Jim undertook to care for the poor and the sick, in fulfilment of his vows as a member of the Order of Malta. There are many of you here today who will recall that, during Jim’s all too short term as Governor, he delivered many powerful addresses on a subject he understood so well, that is voluntary charitable and community work, the accomplishment of which strengthens community, assists those facing difficulties in life, and yields great satisfaction to the volunteer.

In 1985 Jim was asked by Sister Fabian Elliott to chair Caritas Christi Hospice , which provided palliative care. At about the same time, the Order of Malta, in association with the Hospice, began to provide home-based palliative care and a new day centre was built at the Hospice, again with the assistance of the Order of Malta. Ultimately, under Jim’s leadership, a partnership was established between the Order of Malta, the Sisters of Charity Health Service and Melbourne Eastern Palliative Care, which is known as Eastern Palliative Care Association and is the largest provider of palliative care services in Victoria. Jim was not content to establish the organisational basis for palliative care. He was, until his death, involved personally in the provision of care. A work which was of particular satisfaction to him, was to visit those in care to record their life stories and to provide a written version to their families and others.

Jim Gobbo practised as a barrister for more than 20 years before he was appointed to the Supreme Court of Victoria. He was a sought-after advocate, especially in the field of town planning law. But one case which I wish to mention was far removed from town planning and property development: In 1965 Jim was counsel for the Commonwealth to support the case that aboriginal stockmen be entitled to “full”, that is equal, pay and conditions. This case was conducted over about six months, and Jim came to realise the historic significance of the case, for Aborigines and for all Australians. It affected his views about aboriginal Australians, assimilation of minorities, migration and other matters and influenced his public service thereafter.

Jim’s work in the field of migration is well known. Not so well recognised is his role in the dismantling of the White Australia Policy. As his memoirs reveal, in 1959, Jim was active in the Immigration Reform Group which, on at least one occasion, met at 1101 Drummond Street, North Carlton, the Gobbo home. The group opposed the White Australia Policy. Jim had a direct influence on Australian migration policies when Malcom Fraser, in 1975, asked him to join the Federal Immigration and Population Council. At that time Australia had to confront the refugee crisis following the Vietnam War. The change in the ethnic composition of our population in the last 40 years is a profound change in our nation. Jim Gobbo was an architect of that change.

Jim Gobbo was a great and good man. He was supported and enabled in all he did, for 64 years, by Shirley, his companion in life, who shared in the projects and works I have mentioned, and, of course, much else. We remember Jim today. He will remain an inspiration to do good. May he rest in peace.

Allan Myers AC, QC

The Fearless Ulysses of Dante's 'Divine Comedy'

Sat, 23 Oct 2021 09:02:22 GMT

"Dante and Shakespeare divide the modern world between them; there is no third." (T.S. Eliot, 'Dante', in Selected Essays , 1950)

As part of the celebrations for the 21st iteration of the Week of the Italian Language in the World , Dr Luciana D'Arcangeli gave a talk at the Italian Consulate in Adelaide on Dante Alighieri's life and work, and how it resonated, and still resonates, in many cultures today. She focused her talk on Dante's fearless and knowledge-loving Ulysses who appears in Inferno , canto XXVI

...

e volta nostra poppa nel mattino,

de' remi facemmo ali al folle volo,

sempre acquistando dal lato mancino.

(lines 124-126)

We flew

On oars like wings, our stern, in that mad flight,

Towards the morning.

(Trans. Clive James)

Click here to listen to the talk on the Consulate's YouTube channel.

Reminder! Applications due for ACIS Publication Prizes

Thu, 21 Oct 2021 01:33:00 GMT

The application due date for the new ACIS Publication Prizes is fast approaching ...

Music, Ageing, and Dementia – the 'Comusichiamo' project

Sun, 17 Oct 2021 02:10:59 GMT

Music, Ageing and Dementia: Accessing the power of music, language, and song composition to improve the wellbeing of Italian migrants living with dementia in Australia.

Celebrating 70 years of the South Australian Italian Association

Wed, 30 Jun 2021 01:28:22 GMT

Launch of the celebratory history, La seconda casa (The second home): A History of the South Australian Italian Association , written by Daniela Cosmini and Diana Glenn.

The Catholic Italian Welfare Association was of prime significance to large cohorts of Italian migrants in the early post-Second World war years in its role as the primary venue for Italian migrants seeking assistance with settlement, information and general orientation, as well as offering social networking opportunities to those arriving in increasing numbers from all parts of Italy.

Vale Stuart J. Woolf 1936-2021

Tue, 01 Jun 2021 08:15:45 GMT

"His death is a real loss to anyone studying Italy."

Stuart Woolf, emeritus professor of history at Ca’ Foscari University of Venice and a leading English expert on Italy, died on 1 May 2021 in Florence from complications following COVID.

Stuart Woolf’s career was notably European. Educated in England, he completed his doctorate at Oxford in 1960, entitled ‘The economy of certain Piedmontese noble families in the reign of Victor Amadeus II’. He was then appointed to Cambridge as a Fellow of Pembroke to teach Italian Studies. In 1965 he moved to the University of Reading where he established the Centre for the Advanced Study of Italian Society, attracting many Italian visitors, mostly scholars and public figures, to talk about their work; it quickly became the principal centre for modern Italian Studies in the UK.

In 1975 he became the first professor in history to be appointed at the University of Essex (his recollection of his years there can be seen in this video interview ). He remained at Essex until 1983 when he was appointed to the European University Institute in Florence where he stayed until 1993. He then became Professor of Contemporary History at Ca’ Foscari University of Venice, amongst other things creating a European Doctorate in the Social History of Europe and the Mediterranean. On retirement he was appointed Emeritus Professor, a fairly unusual practice in many Italian universities. In the course of his career he was also invited to take up visiting positions in universities in France, Spain, the USA and Australia (he gave talks at the Frederick May Foundation in Sydney in 1991 and 1995). Even this short resumé shows how highly valued he was by his peers, both as a scholar and as an initiator of new programmes.

To try to summarise here Stuart Woolf’s intellectual life, spanning such a wide range of topics, countries and centuries, would be more than foolhardy. The titles of his texts listed above indicate his major interests: the themes of early twentieth-century political life appear clearly, Fascism and nationalism in comparative perspective as the principal centres of concern, as seen by a historian rather than a social scientist (although his lists of references contain many contemporary social theorists, French in particular). If a general theme can be discerned, the sub-title of his History of Italy 1700-1860 is useful: the ‘social constraints of political change’, an approach which enabled him to deal with the ways that political initiatives are encouraged or frustrated by features of the societies in which they have to be taken.

His high reputation among his peers was equally matched by the respect and admiration shown to him by young scholars and students. His interest was also in academic institutions, writing on doctorates in the UK, the power structures of universities in Italy, and the ways in which universities might currently be reformed. He was a man of exceptional intellectual generosity, offering advice and help, often unsolicited, to everyone who might benefit from it. He thus created an international network of young scholars who owe a very great deal to the combination of his energy and his concern to designate accurately, with craft and elegance, aspects of Italian society, assisted in many ways by his wife, Anna Debenedetti. As a sign of this concern, between 2008 and 2012 he gave a substantial part of his personal library to the Biblioteca di Area Umanistica of Ca’ Foscari, a donation of around four thousand volumes which included about a hundred rare books, produced between 1831 and 1889, and a large number of journals in Italian and English. His death is a real loss to anyone studying Italy.

Aotearoa New Zealand poets inspired by Dante's southern hemispheric Purgatory

Sat, 03 Apr 2021 08:53:45 GMT

Through the waters spilled

By that spring, I was remade. Forth I fared,

A new plant with new leaves in a new time.

The stars were there, and I was set to climb.

Dante Alighieri, Purgatory XXXII 163-66,

translated by Clive James

On 25 March 2020, New Zealanders went into lockdown, a descent into mental and physical unknowns caused by a virulent virus set on world domination. On the same day in 1300, a 35-year-old Italian, Dante Alighieri (1265–1321), began his own lockdown of sorts: private, public, poetic.

As his home city of Florence was consumed by internal issues, pilgrims from all corners of Italy and Europe were flocking to Rome (a tradition that continues) to visit the tomb of Saint Peter and earn themselves a jubilee or plenary indulgence: a spiritual vaccination, as it were, against the virus of sin and consequent temporal punishment.

The Pope of the time, Boniface VIII, had made jubilees church doctrine, translating popular pity into political power – an astute move that leveraged spiritual unity to bring about theocratic control of earthly matters. The story of course is much more complex than this and so it is best left as another story for another day.

A righteous citizen and respected intellectual, Dante wrote in Latin and in vernacular, was competent in the humanities and the sciences, and committed to poetry as much as to politics. When a poisonous cocktail of individual and collective upheavals left him an exile under a death sentence, his principles and his poetry remained his personal and professional certainties.

Locked out of his city and above all locked out of his true self, the peregrine-poet Dante embarked on a journey of redemption where he experienced the lowest lows of Hell, the middle medley of Purgatory, and the highest highs of Heaven – poised between the real and allegorical meanings of his worldly and otherworldly ordeals and struggling to keep his verse aligned with his vision.

The Divine Comedy is the account of that journey and is to this day one of the most accomplished and influential works of literature of all time. Dante’s medieval masterpiece remains an unsurpassed example of how form and content can combine to generate timely yet timeless literature, in aesthetic as well as ethical terms. Over the centuries and across cultures, Dante’s trilogy written in the three-lined stanzas known as terza rima has been an uncompromising invitation to zoom in on oneself and find the honesty of mind, integrity of conscience and strength of character each and every one of us must find in order to become a better person and contribute to making the world a better place.

This is why words, characters and stories from Dante’s Divine Comedy keep finding their way into literature, art, film, music – helping humans to understand and unfold their humanity, for better and for worse. After all, from the very beginning of civilisation literary communication, oral and written, has enabled individuals and groups to witness the ups and downs of life, leaving contemporary and future audiences with enlightening and inspiring examples of how to survive, cope with, overcome and celebrate what life throws at us. And there is no doubt Dante stands out as one such enduring example –as the Latin saying goes, nomen omen , one’s destiny is one’s name: indeed, Dante is the shortened form of Durante , ‘lasting’.

Asked to choose the best book of the past thousand years, George Steiner, one of the most influential literary critics of our time, named the Divine Comedy , arguing how “Dante’s totality of poetic form and philosophic thought, of ‘local universality’ and language, remains unrivalled”. Writing about giants in the arts, Umberto Eco, himself a giant of literary criticism, maintained that “in order to transform a work into a cult object, you must be able to take it to pieces, disassemble it, and unhinge it in such a way that only parts of it are remembered, regardless of their original relationship with the whole”. For “whatever is given”, as the Irish poet and Nobel Laureate Seamus Heaney mused, “can always be reimagined”.

More Favourable Waters (The Cuba Press, 2021), an anthology I have co-edited with my colleague Timothy Smith, in which Aotearoa New Zealand poets write a poem inspired by, and using verbatim, lines from Dante’s Purgatory, and my book Quantum of Dante (Beatnik Publishing, 2021), where the ant in Dante turns his word-hill into an ant-hill, both reimagine the Divine Comedy .

When Dante finally comes out of Hell’s lockdown to see the stars again, he finds himself Down Under, admiring the four stars of the Southern Cross and a-swim in the more favourable waters of the southern hemisphere. In Dante’s imagination, Purgatory is a (painfully slow) mountainous path to Heaven at the antipodes of Jerusalem. Tunnel through the ground beneath modern Jerusalem and you would end up in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The closest landforms are the southern-most islands of French Polynesia, quite some distance from Aotearoa - Rapa Iti being the only populated land near this earthly Eden.

New Zealand is not exactly what Dante had in mind when he plonked his Purgatory in the middle of an ocean unseen by the people of Western Europe in the fourteenth century. Still, it is close enough for us to choose Middle Earth as the imagined setting of the middle book in Dante’s trilogy – “a setting for something to take place in” and “a place to go on from”, as poet Iain Lonie (1932–1988) put it, ending title poem and book The Entrance to Purgatory (1986). So down under we went to Aotearoa for its more favourable waters and purgatorial mountain. And for its poetry. Dante chose a poet, Virgil, to go through the nine circles of Hell with.

We have chosen 33 poets to help him climb the seven levels of Purgatory, pairing each with a passage from a canto in Purgatory and asking them to write a poem that responds to, and includes, the assigned passage. More Favourable Waters therefore continues in the tradition of translating Dante into our own age, place, circumstances and stories – and, of course, the people inhabiting them and narrating them. Not only is this anthology an original tribute to one of the greatest poets of all time, it also bears witness to the ongoing attraction of Dante to contemporary poets as well as the variety – ethnic, cultural, linguistic, stylistic – that enriches and distinguishes poetry in Aotearoa.

When we approached the poets, we had no idea what the reaction would be. Most replied straight away, deeply excited about being part of the project; some accepted who said they usually turned down such proposals but couldn’t resist; and many had knowledge of the poet and his work. Only one poet turned it down, citing lack of knowledge of Dante’s work, and another accepted and then bailed when they couldn’t kindle the spark that had initially ignited.

Steven Toussaint , whose powerful poem “Hillside” (Canto I) opens the anthology, emailed: “Dante and the Purgatorio in particular have been very important to my spiritual and poetic life for many years.” Jeffrey Paparoa Holman , author of “Last exit to Purgatory” (Canto VIII), was “honoured to honour the great man, having read my way through the Inferno for a course at City Lit in London during the 1990s” and told us he’d visited Ravenna and the poet’s tomb.

Vincent O’Sullivan ’s readiness “to have a shot at the Dante” has gifted the anthology the 11 elegiac tercets of “Dante gifts McCahon the Southern Cross” (Canto XXIII). Anna Jackson – who wrote her own version of the Divine Comedy in her first poetry collection, The Long Road to Teatime (2000) – said, “I would absolutely love to take part in this” , and has also written 11 mesmerising tercets, “When we had all spoken” (Canto XXIV).

Reihana Robinson found the invitation “intriguing” and, as her ekphrastic poem “The triumph of death” (Canto XII) demonstrates, she has “grasp[ed] the challenge with hands and heart” . For Vana Manasiadis , this was a “dream project” and her response to the invitation was as many yesses as there are cantos in the Divine Comedy – “sì, cento volte sì” – and a poem that meditates on “negative forms of happiness” (Canto XXI) translanguaging from Greek to English to Arabic, something Dante would have enjoyed and endorsed.

The bruising anger of “Terrace of wrath” (Canto XVI) reflects how profoundly Airini Beautrais has engaged with Dante. As did Helen Rickerby , who has been “learning Italian for quite a few years” (promising to one day read Dante in the original) and has acutely written about “all sorts of sensations” we feel inside us “when we fall in love” (Canto III).

Kōtuku Nuttall was “very, very interested” and her poem, “Sophrosyne” (Canto XXII), enters Dante’s world via the world of the Classics she, like Dante, has studied. Tim Jones – already familiar with Purgatorio having red Mark Musa’s translation – was “ready for the challenge” , despite the middle book being “the toughest sledding of the three volumes” , and his poem, “O man” (Canto V), vividly shows it. “How to remember, how to forget” (Canto XIII) and “Assorted Loves” (Canto XVIII) prove how eagerly and warmly Elizabeth Kirkby-McLeod and Michael Fitzsimons have welcomed Dante – and God – into their imaginations.

David Eggleton and Robert Sullivan were “very keen” and “very happy” to be inspired by Dante: “Beatrice” (Canto IX) and “Pāua canticle” (Canto XXXIII) could not be more different as poems and yet more similar as homages to the great Italian poet. And that’s only some of the 33 Aotearoa poets who have taken on the Dante challenge.

If Team NZ has kept the Auld Mug in Aotearoa New Zealand, Team Poetry NZ are keeping the Auld Dante alive 700 years after his death.

ACIS welcomes Santo Cilauro as its new Patron

Mon, 29 Mar 2021 12:28:22 GMT

Santo has received multiple Australian Film Industry, Logie and Aria Awards, as well as a nomination for an International Emmy. In 1995, together with Jane Kennedy, Tom Gleisner and Rob Sitch, he received a prestigious NSW Premier’s Literary Award for the script of Playing the Ego Card.

Santo is also a strong advocate for the arts more broadly, contributing, for instance, to the construction costs of Australia’s permanent Pavilion at the Venice biennale (completed in 2015), and is a recipient of an ‘Italy in the World – Italia nel Mondo’ prize for his work enhancing the image of Italian excellence in the Arts abroad.

We are honoured by Santo’s acceptance of this appointment and look forward enormously to his assistance in furthering our core mission of promoting Italian Studies throughout Australasia.

Venezia 1,600: a remarkable birthday celebration

Thu, 25 Mar 2021 14:33:41 GMT

25 March 2021 marks 1,600 years since the legendary foundation of the city of Venice. Catherine Kovesi reflects on this most remarkable of anniversaries.

Whilst many are justifiably celebrating the 25 March as DanteDì and are marking 2021 as the 700 ^th anniversary of the great poet's death, there is another, far older, celebration underway on this day – the 1,600 ^th birthday of the city of Venice.

Venetian chroniclers maintain that their city was formally founded on the Feast of the Annunciation, 25 March 421CE, on which day began the building of the city’s oldest church, San Giacomo di Rialto . The symbolism of the Annunciation was thereby seamlessly incorporated into the Myth of Venice – a city whose birth was in its own way an improbable miracle and whose citizens regarded the Virgin Mary as having a special protective role over their destiny.

The Comune di Venezia has inaugurated a series of events to celebrate this remarkable birthday, though sadly, under renewed lockdown, the birthday itself has been marked in the main by the release of several very beautiful videos which, in their views of a city denuded of tourists, serve to highlight the city’s fragile beauty.

During the city’s first lockdown in 2020, the media was full of the fake news of dolphins swimming in the Grand Canal. However two days ago, on International Water Day, two dolphins did indeed find their way into the Giudecca Canal to the enormous delight and amazement of Venetians. Many hoped that this was perhaps a sign of a new benediction on this most ancient and amphibious of cities.

Happy Birthday Venice .

Dante Day and a Year of Dante in Australia

Wed, 24 Mar 2021 11:29:01 GMT

This year marks 700 years since the death of the great Italian poet Dante Alighieri. Professor John Kinder of the University of Western Australia explains the significance of 25 March within Dante's seminal poem, La Divina Commedia , and why we celebrate DanteDì.

25 March 1300, Florence. It is New Year’s Day. The practice of counting years from 1 January only became official with the Gregorian calendar reform of 1582. Just a few days after the spring equinox, and exactly nine months before Christmas, this is the feast of the Annunciation, the beginning of the Christian event.

Today, or according to others, in a few days’ time, on Good Friday in fact, 8 April, Dante Alighieri, a "Florentine by birth, not by character" begins a three-day journey that takes him through the three dimensions of reality, known to us as Hell, Purgatory and Paradise.

Fast forward 700 years, to 25 March 2020. The first DanteDì is celebrated in Italy. The idea was dreamt up by Corriere della Sera editor Paolo di Stefano and Accademia della Crusca President Francesco Sabatini and received official approval from the Italian Ministry of Culture.

The first Dante Day came at the beginning of lockdown as Italy became the first country in Europe to fight Coronavirus. So Dante Day went online and the Accademia della Crusca opened a Dantedì YouTube channel . The Accademia della Crusca posted two-minute videos of personal reflections from scholars, young and old. Not just academics, but politicians, actors, musicians remembered padre Dante online, and at 6 pm of 25 March, Italians gathered on their balconies, as they did during that first severe lockdown, but this time to declaim together the opening and closing lines of the Inferno .

Dante celebrations are quite the thing these days. In 2015 Dante (1265-1321) turned 750. Italy celebrated in style. Astronaut Samantha Cristoforetti from inside the International Space Station read lines from the Paradiso on the glory of the created universe, her reading beamed to a public audience in Florence. Roberto Benigni recited by heart the final canto of Paradiso to a rapt Senate in the Italian Parliament. In Florence, trams bearing the poet’s likeness and quotes from the Comedy took the city’s favourite son to all parts of town and life-size cut-out figures appeared in unpredictable locations with a hole cut out at the face so tourists could become the poet for the time it takes to take a selfie. 750-year-old Dante has his own Facebook page and hashtag: #dante750.

2021 is the 700 ^th anniversary of the death of the poet of the Comedy. Celebrations are planned all around the world, starting on 25 March, the second ever Dante Day.

The Dante Alighieri Society of Canberra is coordinating a national series of events to reflect on Dante in twenty-first century Australia. Each month, from a different Australian city, we will be able to enjoy an amazing variety of reactions and responses to Italy’s national poem, from "Dante and the Making of Italians in Australia" to "Dante and the Clash of Civilisations" to "Dante in Australian Literature and Music" to a Mildura "Dinner with Dante" and a celebration of the William Blake illustrations of the Comedy held in the National Gallery of Victoria.

The series opens on Dante Day, 25 March, at 7 pm (AEST), with Professor Rodney Lokai speaking on "How Dante Changed my Life from Melbourne to Umbria in a Heartbeat".

It really does seem that Eugenio Montale was right: "the further Dante’s world recedes from us, the greater is our desire to know him and to make him known".

New ACIS collaboration with Spunti e Ricerche

Fri, 19 Mar 2021 11:12:00 GMT

A new collaboration between ACIS and the journal Spunti e Ricerche. Rivista d'italianistica.

The academic journal Spunti e Ricerche. Rivista d’italianistica is delighted and proud to announce a new collaboration with the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies (ACIS) involving an annual subvention towards printing and production costs. Volume 35, edited by Antonio Pagliaro and Barbara Pezzotti , and dedicated to one of Italy’s most well-known writers, Andrea Camilleri (1925-2019), creator of the beloved Inspector Montalbano, has just been printed under this new arrangement.

Spunti e Ricerche was first published by staff members of the Department of Italian at Melbourne University in 1985. It has been published annually since then. As its first editor, Walter Musolino, wrote in its inaugural preface:

"Spunti e ricerche hopes to identify itself and make its mark by consistently, at times even exclusively, offering its pages to ‘Australian’ writers concerned with Italian literature, politics, linguistics, economics, history, society, cinema and art. However it also intends to study and encourage the more valuable manifestations of the cultural work produced by Italians, or about Italians, in Australia."

It is currently available in printed form and online , and in both forms has subscribers in Australia, Europe, and North America. As such it is the only Australian peer-reviewed Italian Studies journal to appear in hard copy and in digital form. In its years of existence, it has published both general issues and issues dedicated to a specific theme or author. Its collection of essays (vol. 12, 1996-7) on Antonio Tabucchi , for instance, published with the beneplacito of the author and edited by Nicole Prunster and Bruno Ferraro, was the first large critical collection in English for the Italian narrator.

The idea for a journal was initially discussed among tutors in Melbourne University’s Italian Department in 1981-1982, notably Walter Musolino, Manuela Caluzzi and Piero Genovesi. Eventually with the help of funds obtained by Head of Department Cordelia Gundolf, and later by Dino Bressan, the first volume was published in 1985. Although the editor for the first issue was Walter Musolino, important input came from other staff members such as Piero Genovesi, Manuela Caluzzi, Cordelia Gundolf, Dino Bressan.

The co-editors of the second volume, printed in 1986, were Stephen Kolsky and Walter Musolino, other members of the Editorial Board were Dino Bressan, Diana Cavuoto, Consuelo Di Leo, Piero Genovesi and Tom O’Neill who had recently arrived from the U.K. to take up the Chair of Italian at Melbourne. This volume included an opening essay by Brian Moloney who had been the driving presence behind a one-day conference during an academic visit to Melbourne. By now an Advisory Board of ten eminent international scholars had been recruited (Giovanni Aquilecchia, Giovanni Carsaniga, Remo Ceserani, Fredi Chiappelli, Giulio Lepschy, Colin McCormick, Brian Moloney, Olga Ragusa, Eduardo Saccone, and John Scott), presumably with stimulus and assistance from Tom O’Neill. The administration and layout, major tasks in pre-computer days, were looked after by Consuelo Di Leo, then Italian Department administrator. Gradually the Editorial Board was extended to include academics from other Victorian universities.

In 1995 Editorial Board members represented four Melbourne universities (The University of Melbourne, Monash University, La Trobe University, and Swinburne University of Technology). By 1994, under the pressure of other university administrative work, Consuelo Di Leo relinquished her role. Since then administration for individual volumes has been looked after by the relevant editors of the volumes in question and the subscriptions have been managed by Antonio Pagliaro. Cover design and layout have been outsourced to the very competent Veronica Peek.

The current editorial board members are:
Prof. Carolyn James, Monash University, Australia

Dr Gregoria Manzin, La Trobe University, Australia

Dr Annamaria Pagliaro, Monash University, Australia

Mr Antonio Pagliaro, La Trobe University, Australia

Dr Barbara Pezzotti, Monash University, Australia

Spunti e Ricerche now welcomes the assistance which ACIS has given towards the publication of the last two volumes and which ensures its continuance.

The Accademia della Crusca and the 'Settimana della lingua italiana nel mondo'

Thu, 22 Oct 2020 14:20:18 GMT

Professor John Kinder , Australia's only Corresponding Member of the illustrious and venerable Accademia della Crusca, explains the origins of the 'Settimana della lingua italiana nel mondo' celebrated this last week.

“L’italiano tra parola e immagine: graffiti, illustrazioni, fumetti”. This is the theme of the twentieth Settimana della Lingua Italiana nel Mondo, an invitation to look beyond text – spoken or written – and examine the multiple and fascinating ways in which word and image intertwine during Italy’s long linguistic history.

The Settimana della Lingua Italiana was an initiative, in 2000, of the Accademia della Crusca , Italy’s language academy founded in Florence in 1583. It was quickly adopted by the Ministero degli Affari Esteri e della Cooperazione Internazionale and is now celebrated in over 100 countries.

Like many other activities, the Settimana is eloquent expression of the new direction the Crusca set for itself in the second half of the twentieth century. When the fifth edition of its monumental dictionary was abandoned in 1923 – at the word ozono, but the handwritten notes for letters P-Z are still in the archives – the world’s oldest language academy redefined its mission. Gone is the prescriptive burden of defining ‘good’ or ‘beautiful’ or ‘standard’ Italian, as the Accademia now works to educate, raise awareness and encourage informed debate on language matters, in response to a radically changing social and linguistic environment within Italy and the broader context of a united Europe. The election of an Australian Italianist to the Accademia in 2016 speaks of a new openness to the Italian-speaking diaspora.

The 2020 theme, on Italian ‘tra parola e immagine’, seems ideally suited to a digital environment of comics, graphic novels and digital communication. But linguistic and figurative codes have been intertwined in Italy from the earliest writing in vernacular language. A collection of essays, entitled L'italiano tra parola e immagine. Graffiti, illustrazioni, fumetti, ed. Claudio Ciociola and Paolo D'Achille , has just been published as an e-book but also on paper. It traces a fascinating history of multimedia production and semiotic exchange over a millennium.

Words themselves have been displayed as image, from the ninth-century inscription in the catacomb of Commodilla, NON DICERE ILLE SECRITA A BBOCE, the first document transcribing the spoken vernacular, to the graffiti spray-painted on our city walls and the banners displayed (and chanted) at political rallies and sports matches. Conversely, visual representations of reality ‘speak’ to us, in Dante’s memorable definition, as visibile parlare.

Between these two poles, word and image cross-fertilise and negotiate meaning in a marvelous variety of ways. Comic strips can be dated back to the year 1080, when an Inscription in the Basilica of St Clement exploited post-Carolingian diglossia for didactic purposes. While the first-century saint speaks in “Latin”, the evil Roman Sisinnius and his servants, whom he famously addresses as “Fili de le pute”, use eleventh-century Roman vernacular.

And this, nearly a millennium before Topolino taught generations of Italian children a new emotive lexicon of arcane monosyllables.

In medieval and Renaissance art, words adorned borders and frames and even entered the action to give angelic speech visible form, in Simone Martini’s Annunciation (1333).

Events celebrating Italian Language Week around Australia include webinars in Sydney and Melbourne featuring Italian cartoonists and graphic artists, a commemoration of Ennio Morricone in Adelaide, the launch of a bilingual children’s book in Perth and, from Brisbane, the 5th National Convention for Australian Teachers of Italian, via Zoom.

New ePublication–A Linguistic History of Italy / Storia linguistica d’Italia

Fri, 18 Sep 2020 07:13:08 GMT

A new eBook by John Kinder, in collaboration with Grazia Scotellaro, provides a stimulating resource for teachers and scholars of the Italian language and its cultures.

Professor John Kinder , Head of the Italian Studies programme at the University of Western Australia, has been one of Australasia’s trailblazers in the use of digital technologies for Italian language and culture acquisition. His 2008 CLIC: Cultura e Lingua d’Italiana in Cd-Rom (Novara: Interlinea) was novel in its day and showcased what new media can achieve.

As the technology of the Cd-Rom has been progressively displaced, John Kinder has kept abreast of new developments and has re-launched a version of CLIC called A Linguistic History of Italy – Storia linguistica d’Italia in a free-to-download eBook format in collaboration with Grazia Scotellaro through the Australian National University Press.

This book argues that at the heart of the life and culture of the peoples of the Italian peninsula and islands is their language. A Linguistic History of Italy tells the story of how the language spoken in Italy developed from Latin to multiple dialects, to the selection of Florentine for a national written language and how Italian became the common language of the entire nation.

The chapters of A Linguistic History of Italy take you through the history of Italian society, art, ideas and language. At each step on this fascinating journey language intertwines with other components of Italian social life. The chapters focus on the turning points in language history – when Latin ‘became’ Romance, when local dialects were first used in writing, when Florentine was selected as the national language for literature, when Italian became the ‘national language’ – and they show how those moments only fully make sense when seen in a broader context.

The text is written in both English and Italian, so you can improve your linguistic skills while immersing yourself in Italian culture. And the many images provide a visual feast of Italian beauty through the centuries.

Love in the time of COVID-19: An Italo-Australian Love Story

Tue, 25 Aug 2020 06:40:54 GMT

Giuseppe and Tina Cavuoto

Diana Glenn, Professor Emerita at Flinders University, reflects on the longevity and endurance of her Italian parents’ vows of love despite the pressures of COVID-19

Back in the late 1940s, two young people passionately in love began exchanging secret love letters hidden in the trunk of a tree. After their first outing to the cinema to see Romeo and Giulietta, Giuseppe and Tina hoped that their love would endure. On 30 April 2020 in Adelaide, where they have lived since migrating to South Australia in 1954, the loving couple celebrated their (platinum) 70th wedding anniversary, however, due to the COVID-19 restrictions, they were unable to be together and renewed their marriage vows facing one another on opposite sides of a large pane of glass at the nursing home where Tina now resides. Prior to the restrictions, Giuseppe (aged 90) was a daily visitor, steadfast by his darling Tina (aged 95) for whom he still pens love poems and tributes as he has done since their first meeting in Benevento which he describes as a case of love at first sight. Recently, with restrictions being eased, they have been reunited once more. Prior to the lockdown, Giuseppe was carrying out a range of voluntary activities with the residents at the home, such as leading regular singing sessions in which the participants performed songs by heart ranging from pre-war and wartime melodies to love ballads and popular songs from the 40s and 50s. Giuseppe is no stranger to public performance, having been a keen participant in community events for many years and having just celebrated 45 years as a voluntary broadcaster on Radio Italiana, Adelaide. Giuseppe proudly states that Tina is his guiding light and the love of his life. Their shared family values have been passed onto their 5 children and their families, comprising 10 grandchildren and 13 great-grandchildren.

Giuseppe and Tina Cavuoto renew their marriage vows

Diana Glenn,
Flinders University

Vale Dino De Poli  24 August 1929 – 21 July 2020

Thu, 23 Jul 2020 01:12:26 GMT

Dino De Poli

It is with great sadness that I announce that Dino De Poli, former President of the Fondazione Cassamarca in Treviso, whose bequest established the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies (ACIS), has died.

Dr De Poli had an extraordinary vision of the centrality and importance of the humanities, and of the profound role of Italian culture in their fostering and dissemination - what he referred to constantly as Umanesimo Latino . De Poli’s bequest to Australian universities on behalf of the Fondazione Cassamarca has left a powerful legacy – eight current Cassamarca appointments at universities throughout Australia (including a Chair in Latin Humanism), and a trust fund enabling initiatives in Australasia of benefit to postgraduate students, early career researchers and established scholars in the many disciplines that make up the lively field of Italian Studies in Australia and New Zealand. We owe him an enormous debt.

The Management Committee of ACIS will be marking De Poli’s passing with a considered tribute in the coming days and, in the meantime, send their deep condolences and warmest gratitude to De Poli’s family and to the Fondazione Cassamarca.

Catherine Kovesi,
Chair, ACIS Management Committee

Morricone dies at 91

Fri, 17 Jul 2020 07:07:35 GMT

Vale Maestro Morricone

The last decade has witnessed the perhaps to-be-expected but nevertheless rueful disappearance of many of the great names of the Italian cinema which flourished so spectacularly in the 1960s and 1970s. One by one such major veteran filmmakers as Mario Monicelli, Carlo Lizzani, Francesco Rosi, Ettore Scola, Vittorio Taviani, Bernardo Bertolucci, Ermanno Olmi and Franco Zeffirelli have all taken their leave. The era of the coronavirus has now delivered the unkindest cut of all with the death, at the age of 91, of the rightfully-legendary musician and film composer, the maestro, Ennio Morricone.

Arguably the greatest, certainly the most prolific screen composer in the history of the cinema, Morricone scored over 500 films and television series, as well as more than 100 other musical compositions, including cantatas, symphonies, chamber pieces, ballet music, an opera, a Mass, music for theatrical productions and radio plays, and arrangements of popular songs.

Born in the working-class quarter of Trastevere in Rome in 1928 into a family of modest means, the young Morricone appeared determined from his earliest days to follow in the footsteps of his father, a trumpet player who earned his living playing in Roman dance clubs and entertainment venues. By his own account, he had already begun to master the trumpet and to compose rudimentary hunting themes in the style of Weber by the age of six. In more recent times he willingly admitted that this early musical vocation was almost displaced at the age of 11 by a new-found passion for the game of chess (https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2019/03/15/ennio-morricone-plays-chess/), provoking a severe reprimand from his father who brought him back to the straight and narrow path of a career in music. A year later he began his formal musical training at the Conservatory of Santa Cecilia where he studied trumpet, orchestration, choral music, and composition under the renowned composer, Goffredo Petrassi. While studying at the Academy during the day, he also moonlighted at night, playing second trumpet in the musical ensemble of Alberto Flamini. Having earned his diploma in trumpet in 1946 and while continuing his studies in composition with Petrassi, he began to experiment with compositions for piano and voice while also writing music for theatrical productions. In the early 1950s he expanded his activities to include music for radio plays while continuing to experiment with compositions of avant-garde music. By the late 1950s he was also working as a musical arranger for the RAI and then more regularly at the RCA studios in Rome, arranging popular songs for performers such as Gianni Morandi, Charles Aznavour, Mina, and Mario Lanza.

Impelled more by the financial need to provide for a growing family than by artistic considerations, he began working in the cinema in the early 1960s, with scores for Luciano Salce’s Il federale (The Fascist , 1961) and La voglia matta (Crazy Desire , 1962). His first resounding success, however, only came after work on a dozen more unremarkable films, with his stunningly innovative soundtrack for Sergio Leone’s groundbreaking Spaghetti Western, Per un pugno di dollari (For a Fistful of Dollars , 1964), written under the cover of the pseudonym Dan Savio but bringing him the recognition of the award of his first Nastro d’argento . He subsequently scored all of Leone’s films, including the gangster epic, Once Upon a Time in America (1984) while also collaborating with all the major Italian directors from Gillo Pontecorvo and Mauro Bolognini to Pier Paolo Pasolini and Bernardo Bertolucci. Indeed, as Bertolucci himself once remarked in an interview, there came to be a period when practically no Italian film, of whatever style or genre, and with the possible exception of films by Federico Fellini, would appear without the name of Morricone in the credits. From the mid-1960s to the late 1970s he was regularly scoring the extraordinary average of a dozen films a year, in 1972 actually reaching the vertiginous heights of just under 30. At the same time, throughout this period, as a leading and active member of the Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, he was also composing, performing and recording original experimental music.

The characteristic professionalism and the always creative approach which he brought to each project, whether genre or art-cinema, soon gained him an international reputation and he worked with a host of French, British and American directors on films as different as John Boorman’s Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977) and Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven (1978), the film whose delicate romantic soundtrack earned him his first Oscar nomination. Eight years later, his haunting and moving score for Roland Joffè’s The Mission (1986), a commission which he had originally refused but into which, having eventually accepted, he had poured his heart and soul, brought him his second Oscar nomination for Best Musical score. To his great chagrin and enduring disappointment, the award itself was given to Herbie Hancock for his musical compilation for Bernard Tavernier’s Round Midnight . Two years later his compelling score for Brian De Palma’s The Untouchables (1987) was again nominated but failed to win the Academy Award for Best Original Score. Turning his back on Hollywood for a period, he made an invaluable contribution to the nascent so-called New Italian Cinema with his unforgettable music for Giuseppe Tornatore’s Oscar-winning Cinema Paradiso (1988), and subsequently providing the music for all of Tornatore’s films from Stanno tutti bene (Everybody’s Fine , 1990) to La corrispondenza (Correspondence , 2016).

After having been nominated unsuccessfully five times, he was finally recognized in 2007 with an Honorary Oscar, awarded “For his magnificent and multifaceted contributions to the art of film music.” By this time he had greatly reduced his involvement with feature films and was scoring mostly for television and touring the concert halls. Ironically, although this was finally the opportunity to perform the “serious” music that he had continued to write but not been able to showcase in all the years that he had worked in the cinema, his most successful and acclaimed concerts turned out to be those where he conducted the music of his most popular film scores.

In 2015, bowing to the apparently gracious entreaties of an insistent Quentin Tarantino, he scored his last Western, Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight , which finally brought him the Oscar for Best Original Score. Perhaps musically not quite at the level of his greatest work, it nevertheless crowned an extraordinary career. A year later, now a certified Oscar winner, he was also given his own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

He had always steadfastly refused to name his favourite film score, a proposal he judged as inappropriate as a father being asked to name his favourite child. However, in accordance with his own stated wishes, at the small private funeral which he had requested “in order not to bother anyone”, and attended only by his close family and by Giuseppe Tornatore, the music heard as the casket was being blessed was the unmistakable music he had composed for The Mission .

Vale Maestro

Remembering Modigliani (1884-1920)

Thu, 25 Jun 2020 14:00:00 GMT

2020 marks the centenary of the death of Amedeo Modigliani, the Italian artist who died young of tuberculosis in Paris after a life usually described as troubled. The Italian Institutes of Cultures of Sydney and Melbourne have joined forces to remember him by two free events: online projection of the film Les amants de Montparnasse (Montparnasse 19) (9 July, 18.00-20.00, free, necessary to register here ); and a webinar Modigliani – A Bohemian Life by Roberta Crisci (16 July, 18.30, again registration necessary here ). The film is attributed to Max Ophuls as well as Jacques Richard since Ophuls, the intended director, wrote the script but died before the film could be shot.

La Tragedia Del Vajont

Fri, 19 Jun 2020 14:00:00 GMT

La storia della diga del Vajont, che doveva essere il gioiello dell’energia idroelettrica italiana a cavallo tra il Veneto e il Friuli Venezia Giulia. Ultimatata nel 1960, la diga era la più alta in Europa e sottostava all’imponente Monte Toc. Tutto pareva essere normale nei tre anni che seguirono al completamento, fino a che il 9 ottobre 1963, 270 milioni di meri cubi di terreno si distaccarono dal fianco della montagna provocando la tracimazione della diga. Questo provocò un vero e proprio tsunami che si riversò sui paesi della valle, uccidendo piu di 2000 persone. La tragedia viene raccontata adesso in un documentario qui su Viceland.

Religion in cinema and television

Tue, 19 May 2020 16:35:00 GMT

Clodagh Brook’s latest work, Screening Religions in Italy (2019), tackles a little-explored area: the role of Catholicism (but also of other religions) in the organisation, production and distribution of Italian film and television. Pollard (2008) and Garelli (2014), for example, have provided valuable summaries of what we know about the patterns of Italian religious belief and participation, electoral influence, relations between church and state, and so on, often considering in what respects Italy is becoming more religiously differentiated or perhaps even secular. But Brook tackles the detailed ways in which Catholicism – its icons, rituals and policies – has shaped the form and content of film-making in recent years, tracking its embedding across the public sphere and concluding that, surprisingly, its hold over the production and distribution of films has actually been strengthening since the 1990s.

Pandemia 2020 in Italia

Sat, 11 Apr 2020 07:49:00 GMT

E’ uscito adesso un libro istantaneo, Pandemia 2020: La vita quotidiana in Italia con il Covid-19, curato da Alessandra Guigoni e Renato Ferrari, scaricabile gratis qui . Il libro, disponibile gratuito anche fra poco su Amazon, raccoglie i contributi originali di 28 autori e 12 ospiti, tra cui antropologi culturali, ricercatori delle scienze umane, sociali e biologiche, filosofi e linguisti, appartenenti a generazioni e a contesti lavorativi differenti, che hanno deciso di mettere a disposizione le loro competenze e i loro saperi per cercare di capire che cosa è accaduto e come possiamo uscire da questa drammatica situazione.

A Scholarship Cut Short: Donna Storey reflects on her time in Rome during COVID-19

Fri, 10 Apr 2020 02:17:00 GMT

At the beginning of March this year I travelled to Italy to undertake research for my PhD thesis on the topic of Race and Romanità in Fascist Italy as a recipient of the ACIS/Cassamarca Dino De Poli Scholarship for 2020 . My intention was initially to spend two weeks at the British School at Rome (BSR), before travelling north for around nine weeks to undertake archival research in Salò, Trento/Bolzano, and Trieste, before returning home in May. Little did I know upon my arrival at the BSR on Monday 2 March that, due to the outbreak of the COVID-19 Coronavirus, not only would I not be able to leave Rome and travel north, but that I would in fact have to leave Italy by the end of the month.

When I arrived at the BSR, the virus had already been detected in Italy (primarily in Lombardy and Veneto), but infection numbers were still reasonably low, and I didn’t really think at this point that my travel would be impeded. Given that the outbreak was in the well-resourced north of Italy, I assumed that the virus would be contained reasonably quickly and there would be no ongoing major interruptions. How naïve and wrong I would turn out to be! Before I knew it, not only were the northern regions locked down, but so too was the entire country. All schools, libraries, universities and businesses were closed, with the exception of essential services (supermarkets, pharmacies, health professionals etc.). Social distancing measures were quickly introduced, both internally at the BSR, and if we were to venture outside. Permission slips were required to go out of the BSR, for example to the supermarket. Police could, and would, stop and check to ensure that anyone outside was there for a legitimate reason, and would readily issue fines if not. These measures seem standard procedure now; however, at the time, they were new, and a little unsettling.

The speed in which the virus spread, and that life changed in Italy, took all of us at the BSR by surprise. Our heads were in a spin; it was difficult to grasp the sheer increase in infection numbers, let alone the volume of deaths, every single day. Though we were safely contained within the residential walls of the BSR, the rapidly increasing numbers and constantly changing situation made it hard to concentrate on anything. The daily news of the deteriorating conditions in Italy — whether it was of the war-like conditions in increasingly strained hospitals where medical professionals had to choose between who lived and who died based on best chance of survival; of entire villages disappearing because everyone had died; of army truck convoys tasked with transporting coffins because the numbers were far too great for civilian hearses to deal with; or of coffins mounting up in churches because morgues were full — was almost too surreal to seem true.

Even so, until a week or so before I left Italy, we thought things would improve and that we could stay and wait it out. However, when the decision came on 18 March to close the BSR and that we should all make arrangements to leave, the reality of the situation really hit home. At this point, the stress of the previous couple of weeks began to take its toll; we knew that we would now have to leave our safe enclosure and venture out, whether it was to travel back to Australia, like myself and some fellow Australasians, or those returning to the UK where conditions were getting increasingly worse, or elsewhere in Italy. For the first time we felt at risk ourselves, and really, for the first time, I felt a little frightened, for the health and safety of both myself, and my fellow residents.

The library at the BSR

I subsequently flew out of Italy on Saturday 21 March, arriving home in the early hours of Monday 23 March; just three weeks after having arrived in Rome. In those three weeks, life, not only in Italy, but throughout the world, has radically changed. I have just completed my two weeks of home quarantine and am relieved to say I have not exhibited any COVID-19 symptoms. Australia is now of course on lockdown as well, though luckily the situation has not appeared to have escalated quite as quickly as it did in Italy — yet. I am thankful in hindsight that I decided to start my travel at the BSR, rather than head to northern Italy straight away, or my story may have been a very different one. I am also extremely grateful to both the ACIS Committee, and Dr Catherine Kovesi in particular, for the support that I received while in Italy. The timing was incredibly unfortunate, though, of course, could not possibly have been foreseen. The day that I left Italy, the death toll was around 5000; today, just over two weeks later, it is more than 18,000. Whether the world returns to ‘normal’ or not is yet to be seen; the rapid spread of the virus is unprecedented, and, at this stage, the world remains cautiously on hold.

The deserted vista from the BSR during COVID-19. Photo Donna Storey

Donna Storey
PhD Candidate, School of Historical and Philosophical Studies
The University of Melbourne

Solo l’eco – ‘just a thought’ from filmmaker Carlo Limonta

Thu, 02 Apr 2020 10:04:00 GMT

From his village near Lake Como, Lombard filmmaker Carlo Limonta has created this sobering reflection on life during COVID 19

Amuleti nella Valle del Lambro

Tue, 31 Mar 2020 13:53:00 GMT

Eloheh Mason, Torino

Avevo immaginato che la forza con cui la pandemia ha colpito queste terre e le sue tragiche conseguenze avrebbero costituito un elemento di rottura dirompente nel sottile equilibrio tra malmostosità e festosità tipico dell’antica civiltà brumosa della valle del Lambro. La straordinaria capacità di adattamento e l’inventiva di questo popolo forgiato dalle punture di zanzara e dalle nebbie quasi eterne mi hanno invece sorpreso ancora una volta. La particolare combinazione di passione per i rituali collettivi e grande valore attribuito alla capacità di condurre un’esistenza solitaria – che avevo interpretato nei miei primi studi come un elemento potenzialmente problematico nella vita psichica di questi selvaggi – si sta infatti rivelando un elemento centrale nella capacità di resistenza e riorganizzazione sociale dei Milanesiani.

La musica , i balli, le bandiere e i cartelli colorati sui balconi sono già stati documentati in molti resoconti etnografici. Questi rituali rappresentano la materializzazione della “vicinanza nella distanza” che costituisce la formula rituale più potente con cui viene affrontata la pandemia non solo nell’arcipelago Milanesiano, ma in tutta Italia. Questa formula non può che riecheggiare in modo ancora più enfatico nel cuore del nativo della civiltà brumosa, per cultura portato ad apprezzare, nella sua quotidianità, l’idea di stare sì tutti uniti, ma anche ciascuno per i fatti suoi.

Recentemente è emerso un nuovo rituale da balcone, più locale e particolarmente originale: il Gioco/rito di creazione di amuleti con resti di cibo – vitaminiche bucce di agrumi innanzitutto – che si sta diffondendo a partire da un piccolo villaggio della Valle del Lambro. Lanciato da Enrico Mason, Presidente della Commissione Cultura Alternativa e maestro di cerimonie della Befana sul Fiume Lambro di Agliate, il gioco rito è un invito a “ingannare il tempo e il virus” creando effimere opere d’arte da appendere sui balconi o appoggiare sui davanzali delle finestre. L’idea nasce come parte dell’attività di un laboratorio che lavora sulla ripoeticizzazione del gioco e del mito come spazi dell’infanzia da riconquistare tramite pratiche collettive. L’intento è soprattutto quello di mettere in gioco bambini e bambine, che ci possono aiutare a “frastornare” il virus, con delicatezza e creatività.

Qui sotto alcune immagini degli amuleti. Chi, nel mondo, volesse partecipare al Gioco/rito è invitato a postare le sue creazioni sulla pagine Facebook dell’ evento e del laboratorio Befana sul Lambro.

Serena Chiodo, Roma

Enrico Mason, Agliate

Una documentazione video e fotografica sulle passate edizioni della festa della Befana sul Lambro, altro alto esempio della creatività dei popoli della Valle del Lambro, è ammirabile qui . Grazie a Sonia Pozzi, stimata sociologa e creativa culinaria Milanesiana, per avermi fatto conoscere entrambe le iniziative e a Enrico Mason, che ho intervistato telefonicamente per scrivere questo post.

A Venetian-based Soprano makes her (virtual) Melbourne debut

Sat, 28 Mar 2020 03:22:00 GMT

Anna Sanachina, by a canal in Venice, Credit: Diana Litvinova

For twenty years I have been teaching first year students at the University of Melbourne about the Black Death and its social, cultural, economic and political knock-on effects. In these two decades I have been struck consistently by the continuing relevance of this most gruesome and visceral of topics, but never more so than in this present iteration of my subject. Whilst in previous years I have made comparisons with AIDS, SARS, H1N1, Ebola – the list goes on – never before have students had a virus affect them all personally and dramatically. As students read the vivid accounts of Giovanni Boccaccio, Marchionne di Coppo Stefani and Agnolo di Tura of an Italy in crisis in 1348, their nightly news showed them the unfolding horror in Bergamo and nearby towns in 2020.

The point was brought home even more forcefully when the very week in which I had to talk about the Black Death, our University suspended all face-to-face classes and notified us that there were three confirmed cases on campus. And so I sat at home, preparing to record the lecture in which I recount the contingent fragility of civil life and the multiple ways in which this broke down in 1348, and I spliced a depressing succession of images from 1348 with current examples.

Taking a break from the task, my social media feed showed me instead the glorious Russian-born soprano Anna Sanachina singing a prayer to her adopted city from her Venetian window. On the bridge below stood an audience of two – transfixed, whilst scrupulously observing Social Distancing protocols.

Although we have seen a succession of moving clips of Italians singing from their balconies in recent days, all of which provide the most poignant of reminders that even midst extreme crisis civil society does not always break down, Anna’s voice was a singular one. I asked Anna whether I could show the video of her singing to my students. She generously agreed but told me to emphasise to the students the words of her chosen aria, ‘La mamma morta’ sung by the character Maddalena de Coigny in Act 3 of Umberto Giordano’s 1896 opera Andrea Chénier , in particular its final four lines:

Tu non sei sola!

Le lacrime tue io le raccolgo!

Io sto sul tuo cammino e ti sorreggo!

Sorridi e spera! Io son l’amore!

You are not alone.

I collect all your tears.

I walk with you and support you!

Smile and hope! I am Love!

In subsequent days, Anna has continued to sing her glorious sonic prayers and she has gained an increasing worldwide audience. The BBC interviewed her and then, most stunningly of all, a video montage by Andrea Rizzo, shot in black and white, of an exquisitely beautiful yet eerily deserted Venice in these days of lockdown, concludes in vivid technicolour with Anna singing her prayer (see 2’33”) as the camera scans across a city swathed in banners declaring ‘Andrà tutto bene’ – ‘All shall be well’.

Disease and death

Thu, 19 Mar 2020 21:34:00 GMT

‘They fell ill daily in their thousands … many fell dead in the open streets … such was the multitude of corpses there was not sufficient consecrated ground to bury them’. And: ‘the plague came from afar … that part of the world called Asia’. A historian in 2120 describing the horrors of a century earlier? Extracts from a comparative study of plagues and pestilence? An epidemic seen from the grassroots today? No, Boccaccio and Villani talking of events in Italy as the Black Death and other disasters wreaked their havoc, as quoted by Tim Parks in the introduction to his dispatch from northern Italy, ‘ Milan in a time of coronavirus ‘ in this week’s TLS (March 20, 2020). For descriptions of life in the plague-ridden Florence of 1630, see the review in the LRB (20 March, 2020) of John Henderson’s Florence Under Siege: Surviving Plague in an Early Modern City (Yale UP 2019).

Italian Opera from the Medici to Bellini

Tue, 10 Mar 2020 09:23:00 GMT

Interior of La Fenice opera house, Venice, 1837

THIS LECTURE SERIES HAS HAD TO BE POSTPONED BECAUSE OF CURRENT PUBLIC HEALTH CONCERNS

Joseph Talia OAM, singer, artistic director, teacher and scholar, will be giving a series of talks on Italian opera from the Renaissance to Bellini between March and November 2020 at CO.AS.IT, 199 Faraday St, Carlton , from 6.30-8.00 pm on the last Tuesday of every month (except June). Entry is free, an aperitivo is included, but registration is requested. Apart from his teaching work, Maestro Talia is the author of the trilogy A History of Vocal Pedagogy: Intuition and Science ; Vocal Science for Elite Singers ; and Italian Bel Canto in the Age of Vocal Science. Here is his description of each of the 8 lectures ……

Tuesday 31 March 2020, 6.30-8PM

1: The Renaissance in Florence. From Madrigals to Melodrama

In this talk, we shall introduce the socio-cultural conditions that prevailed during the Renaissance, making it a time of unprecedented artistic and intellectual creativity. The patronage of the Medici in Florence was critical to the establishment of the Camerata, a group of artists and intellectuals meeting in Count de’ Bardi’s home. These artists transformed polyphonic madrigals into staged melodrama through the use of monody (a single voice to tell the story). Claudio Monteverdi saw the potential of the idiom and knew that he could do much better: opera was in good hands.

Tuesday 28 April 2020, 6.30-8PM

2: Florentine Opera and canto fiorito

Whilst monody proved an excellent device for story-telling, it failed to satisfy the Italian love of melody, let alone their love for the human voice. The inevitable reaction was brought to fruition by Pietro Antonio Cesti in Venice, and especially by two young Sicilians: Alessandro Scarlatti in Naples and Antonio Pistocchi in Bologna. They returned to flowing, lilting melodies, reintroducing canto fiorito – a precursor to the bel canto singing, which reached its zenith with Rossini.

Tuesday 26 May 2020, 6.30-8PM

3: The Neapolitan School Versus the Bolognese School

Nicola Porpora, along with Pergolesi and Cimarosa, was one of the giants responsible for elevating the Neapolitan school to international prominence. Porpora’s achievements as a vocal pedagogue have become legendary. In 1733, he was called to London to establish a new company, the Opera of the Nobility. For a time, the Opera of the Nobility surpassed Handel’s own company. In the meantime, the Bolognese School was passed down from Antonio Pistocchi to his student, the castrato Antonio Bernacchi, who elevated the school to an even higher level of prestige.

Tuesday 28 July 2020, 6.30-8PM

4: The Naples of Caffarelli and Farinelli

The musical world of Baroque Naples was essentially built around the four conservatoriums of Santa Maria di Loreto, Sant’Onofrio, I Poveri di Gesù Cristo and La Pietà dei Turchini, established for the purpose of helping children in need. Despite the hardships which their students had to endure, the talent these schools produced remains unique in the annals of music and singing.

Tuesday 25 August 2020, 6.30-8PM

5: The Castrati and the Poetics of Wonder

This first Golden Age of bel canto is regarded by some as the zenith of the art form. The period was characterised by a sense of wonder, that is, the supremacy of the senses and the human creative imagination over reality. This period is characterised by the rise of the castrati and the extraordinary heights they were able to reach. Unlike most of the boys who became castrati to improve the socio-economic status of their families, Farinelli and Caffarelli came from well-off families. Farinelli remains widely recognised as the greatest singer of all time, and Caffarelli was his greatest rival.

Tuesday 29 September 2020, 6.30-8PM

6: Rossini and the Second Golden Age of Bel Canto

The second Golden Age of bel canto, at the start of the 19th century, coincided with the rise of Rossini and the decline of castrati, whose roles were increasingly given to contraltos. The beginning of Rossini’s career was marked by extraordinary innovation and creativity, which secured his place among the foremost composers in Western music. Rossini paved the way for Donizetti and Bellini’s dramatic bel canto. Their work signalled the beginning of the Romantic period. No presentation of Rossini can claim to be complete without mention of his muse and collaborator, prima donna assoluta Isabella Colbran.

Tuesday 27 October 2020, 6.30-8PM

7: Donizetti, Bellini and Romantic Bel Canto

The romantic bel canto period of Donizetti and Bellini saw the continuing decline of the castrati and the rise of the soprano and tenor. It was during this period that a new type of interpreter came to the fore – one capable of displaying great ecstasy, sadness, anguish and romantic vigour. We will compare and contrast Donizetti’s comedies such as Don Pasquale and L’Elisir d’Amore with his dramatic works such as Lucia di Lammermoor and Anna Bolena. Within this framework we shall examine the dramatic coloratura of Donizetti and Bellini.

Tuesday 24 November 2020, 6.30-8PM

8: Bellini and his Operas

The romantic bel canto period was characterised by changes in vocal technique which resulted in superior expressivity and emphasised darker timbres over clear ones. For our eighth and final lecture we will examine Bellini’s rustic La Sonnambula and romantic I Capuleti e i Montecchi along with his dramatic operas Norma and I Puritani. We will end by examining the impact that bel canto composers had on Verdi and Puccini, as well as the development of the great Verismo melodramas.

Joseph Talia

For over fifty years Joseph Talia has sung, directed and conducted opera, as well as achieving a PhD from La Trobe University on the issue of Cultural Hegemony and the Economics of the Performing Arts. He began his career in Melbourne, studied in Milan, was engaged to sing at the Teatro Eliseo in Rome, and has performed as a concert artist in Milan and Vercelli. His repertoire consists of fifty major tenor roles. He has been involved in over 140 opera productions and has directed La Bohème, Carmen, Andrea Chenier, Tosca and La Rondine. Dr Talia was artistic director of the Globe Opera Company for ten years, followed by Melbourne City Opera from 1997 to 2015. He was awarded the Order of Australia Medal in 2007 for his dedicated services to opera. He currently maintains a successful Voice studio in Melbourne, where in addition to his regular students he teaches visiting singers from New Zealand, Europe, Japan and Korea. He has taught five Sun Aria winners and two Reserve Award recipients, plus many other competitions winners. His students have sung in Australian and European opera houses, as well as Broadway and London’s West End. He is also in high demand as an adjudicator of international competitions, such as the Paolo Tosti in Ortona, the Mattia Battistini in Rieti, and the İzmir International in Turkey. He has conducted international masterclasses all over Europe.

‘Ultras despite being women’: Ilaria Pitti on female calcio fans

Mon, 02 Mar 2020 10:01:00 GMT

What is the position of women in the groups of football fans in Italy called the ultras? Newspaper reports of ultra activities emphasise the men and the systems of power, exchange and violence they manage. But women belong to the groups too, often from a very early age. Can they accede to positions of responsibility, issue orders, organise the rituals of fandom on and off the pitch or do they play a subordinate role at every point? Can they have anything that corresponds to a career in such groups? Ilaria Pitti interviewed the women at the core of one group (in Serie A but not specified) to track their perspective on their lives. Her report, ‘ Being women in a male preserve: an ethnography of female football ultras ‘ ( Journal of Gender Studies , Volume 28, 2019, 3) considers the options which women themselves see as available and acceptable.

Art: high, low and mixed

Wed, 26 Feb 2020 09:20:00 GMT

The third issue (January 2020) of the open-access journal Modern Art of the Center for Italian Modern Art (New York), is dedicated to the proceedings of the conference “ Methodologies of Exchange: MoMA’s Twentieth-Century Italian Art (1949) ”. CIMA’s publications advance innovative scholarship in the area of twentieth-century Italian art and promote Italian modern artists who remain particularly understudied among US audiences. On a different front, the publication of Emma Barron’s book Popular High Culture in Italian Media 1950-1970: Mona Lisa Covergirl (Palgrave Macmillan 2018) has been very favourably received (Barron was one of the 2019 ACIS Save Venice Fellows). Here is a review in the latest issue (2020) of the journal Modern Italy.

Violence in the Borderlands: Migrants in North Queensland

Thu, 13 Feb 2020 09:35:00 GMT

Defined as ‘borderlands’ by Tracey Banivanua Mar , the sugar towns of North Queensland in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries hosted a great variety of ethnic groups: Chinese, Indian, Japanese, ‘Malay’, Pacific Islander and later South European. Violence between members of different groups was common. In ‘Beyond whiteness: violence and belonging in the borderlands of North Queensland’ ( Postcolonial Studies, February 2020, online ahead of publication) Maria Elena Indelicato examines the case of three South Sea Islanders attacking an Italian farmer in the city of Ingham in 1927. The motive behind that particular attack remains unknown. Indelicato treats it not as a random episode but as a sign of the way in which migrants were involved in the subjection of ‘natives’ and South Sea Islanders. Violence can thus be seen as a claim to belonging by migrants, Italian or not, and as a technology used by settlers to manage ‘undesired’ populations.

The Life of Giovanni Morelli in Risorgimento Italy – book launch

Mon, 10 Feb 2020 00:20:00 GMT

Vittorio De Sica Retrospective - Interview with Elisabetta Ferrari

Wed, 05 Feb 2020 10:32:00 GMT

Vittorio De Sica was one of the most important actors and directors in twentieth-century Italy and his influence is still felt today, both in Italy and abroad. In partnership with Melbourne Cinémathèque, Elisabetta Ferrari (Italian Studies, University of Melbourne) will introduce his life and work on Tuesday 11 February at the Italian Institute of Culture in Melbourne, 233 Domain Rd, South Yarra, at 6.30 ( details here ) in preparation for the Vittorio De Sica Retrospective that will take place between 12 and 26 February 2020 at The Capitol cinema in Melbourne. Elisabetta’s talk is free and in English.

Elisabetta was also interviewed on the same topic by Amy Mullins on Triple R's ' Uncommon Sense'. Listen to the interview here .

Exploring Venice’s past and present

Wed, 29 Jan 2020 00:40:00 GMT

Jen McFarland , enrolled in a History MA at the University of Melbourne, spent September to December 2019 in Venice as an ACIS Save Venice Fellow researching the identity, status and activities of the pizzocchere (associations of lay religious women) in the city in the 16th century. It was not her first exploration of religion there. In 2019 the journal Renaissance Studies published her study of Catherine of Siena’s incorporation into the iconography held in the Dominican convent of Santi Giovanni e Paolo in the late 15th century, in particular the ways in which the convent wanted to emphasise Catherine’s status as a legitimate stigmatic and to promote the then-current Dominican reform. Jen has written an interesting piece summarising her recent stay in Venice which can be found here .

ACIS Save Venice Fellowships 2020

Sun, 12 Jan 2020 22:54:00 GMT

ACIS is calling for applications for up to two ACIS Save Venice Fellowships for 2020. The Fellowships are based in Venice, open to postgraduate and early career researchers, cover the three months between mid-September and mid-December 2020, and are worth $8000 each. Fellows will be EITHER a current Masters or PhD candidate in any area of Italian Studies at an Australasian university OR a postdoctoral researcher in any area of Italian Studies within 3 years of successful completion of their Masters or PhD at an Australasian university. The Fellowship is designed for those researchers and scholars whose research and/or career can benefit in any way from a period in Venice and the use of the city’s substantial resources. ACIS expects that people working in the fields of History, Art History, Fine Art, Cultural and Media Studies, and Restoration and Museum Studies will be particularly interested, but applications will be welcome from any field across the humanities and social sciences. Further information about the Fellowships and the application process can be found here and on the page under Fellowships. The closing date for applications is 9 March, 2020 .

Transitioning to University: New online language resources

Tue, 07 Jan 2020 16:26:00 GMT

A project investigating online video resources for transitioning to university in languages education is now available free through the ANU’s School of Literatures, Languages, and Linguistics website. Current research indicates that students’ expectations are a major factor predicting academic performance in first-year university students (McKenzie & Schweitzer 2010). First-year students can sometimes struggle to keep up with the workload in learning a new language and to adapt themselves to the pace of learning required at university level. This problem is often to do with how best to go about studying languages; in other words the best method to study a language and succeed well. So a team of ANU researchers created a series of ten videos (each of 2-3 mins), covering the key aspects of language learning and delivery, all easily accessed and shared (e.g. to university learning management systems) via YouTube, and almost all non-ANU specific. The videos feature footage from actual language classes, interviews with current students and staff, and general study advice. For more information, please contact Josh Brown .

Mediating Italy in Global Culture

Fri, 22 Nov 2019 13:19:00 GMT

The Department of the Arts, University of Bologna, in collaboration with Brown University, Dickinson College, The University of Michigan, The Ohio State University and Wesleyan University, invites you to join us for the third edition of the Mediating Italy in Global Culture Summer School, June 22-27,2020 at the DAMSLab, Piazzetta P.P. Pasolini 5/b Bologna. The School is open to graduate and post-graduate students with a background in Media Studies, Film Studies, Italian Studies, Cultural Production, American Studies, and similar degrees and will investigate the forms of production, distribution, circulation, and reception contributing to the “mediation” of Italian audiovisual culture in the United States, the United Kingdom, the European Union, and other national contexts. On- and off-campus activities are both included. The cost of tuition and supplementary activities is €200 (accommodation, transportation and meals are not included). The application deadline is March 29 2020; applications are made online here .

The third edition of “Mediating Italy in Global Culture” offers an intensive learning experience where graduate and post-graduate students can consolidate their theoretical and methodological skills. Specifically, the Summer School will address the forms of media representations associated with Italy, as well as their manipulation by cultural industries, fandoms, and opinion leaders. Furthermore, the program will focus on the complex imageries and socio-cultural constructions of the brand “Made in Italy” spread by film, television and digital media, as well as by other cultural and creative industries as design, fashion, sports and food. In particular, light will be shed on the crucial framing role played by foreign countries in the popularization of Italy’s depictions around the world.

This week-long program will encourage students to think provocatively about these current issues and debates during lectures, seminars, roundtables, and workshops on specific topics and case histories. Students will also have the opportunity to present their research in a warm and stimulating environment and partake in discussions with fellow colleagues and faculty.

Lectures, seminars, and activities will cover a variety of themes and media, including:

Italian cinema (circulation in movie theaters, festivals, and digital platforms);
Italian television, digital platforms and digital media;
Italian novels, graphic novels and other editorial phenomena;
Italian fashion, entertainment, advertising, and photography;
Italian gastronomic traditions, lifestyle and food-inspired media productions.
Italian sport entertainment, tourism, and related events

Activities

Students will be involved in a variety of on and off campus activities. They will meet and interact with professionals working for internationally renowned local institutions, museums, and creative industries. Participants will be invited to take part in organized visits, tours, meetings, and social events throughout the week. In particular, this edition of the Summer School will take place during the Cinema Ritrovato Festival. Students will be given an opportunity to join the many professionals, critics, and journalists that every year gather in Bologna from all over the world. A detailed schedule will be provided on the website a few weeks prior to the beginning of the Summer School.

Costs

The cost of tuition and supplementary activities is 200 euros .

Tuition includes free access to Wi-Fi on the university campus, access to the libraries and university facilities, and organized visits. Accommodations, meals, and transportations are not included .

Applications

The deadline for applications is March 29, 2020 .

Interested applicants are required to fill out and submit the online application form and upload a full CV and a Motivation Letter. More detailed instructions can be found in the “How to Apply” section of the website .

Specific inquiries can be addressed here or to Prof. Luca Barra and to Dr. Elisa Farinacci .

A future for Italy’s ‘ghost towns’?

Mon, 04 Nov 2019 15:20:00 GMT

Roghudi Vecchio, Calabria (Saverio Barbaro, 2009)

More than 5000 historical hamlets and rural and medieval villages in Italy have been in serious population decline (Serico Gruppo Cresme, 2008). Many were abandoned in the last century and today have become ‘ghost towns’. While long neglected as topics for cultural policy or academic study, a recent wave of political and popular interest in Italy’s borghi , coupled with an increasing number of initiatives to resuscitate them, suggest that their presumed destinies of decline, ruin and oblivion may have to be revised. Concern for Italy’s emptying towns is not an isolated phenomenon but part of a recent explosion of interest and action in abandoned sites throughout the world (De Silvey & Edensor, 2012). Today conversations about abandoned places are characterised by new ways of describing, perceiving and interacting with them: no longer as rubbish but as resources.

Torri Superiore, Liguria

I have examined examples of this new political and popular interest in Italy’s ghost towns and analysed cases of their re-awakening. I have charted the historical development of the practice of resurrecting derelict towns in Italy and provided details regarding the principal actors, approaches and locations of fifty-one re-awakening projects. A new census of Italian ghost towns which documented the names, locations, and the dates and reasons for the abandonment of 267 deserted villages, was another important result of the research. Several projects are worth mentioning. The first is Torri Superiore in Liguria; a ruined hamlet which was converted in the nineties into a thriving, internationally recognised eco-village. A second innovative example of revival was that undertaken by textile magnate Brunello Cucinelli in Umbria who transformed the crumbling hill-top town Solomeo into the headquarters and factory for what has become one of the world’s renowned cashmere brands. Another exemplary case is taking place in Riace led by mayor Domenico Lucano and the Calabrian community who opened the abandoned homes of their emptying town to host refugees. Despite the recent controversies, the ‘Riace Model’ has been a revolutionary experiment for dealing with the refugee crisis in Europe with proven positive results for migrants and original community members alike. Another fascinating project was undertaken by Italian entrepreneur Daniel Kihlgren, first in Santo Stefano di Sessanio, and then in the Sassi di Matera. His low-impact renovation method and reprisal of ancient local traditions and products is one of the most successful examples of the albergo diffuso – an innovative ‘horizontal’ method of hospitality.

Craco, abandoned in 1960s (Jane Drumsara, 2013)

By comparing the historical reasons for the abandonment of towns with the contemporary motives for their reuse, we can explore the questions ‘why now?’ and ‘what has permitted contemporary investors and new inhabitants of previously abandoned towns to overcome the reasons that drove their original inhabitants away?’ The research pointed to the important role of a) new ‘distance-shrinking’ technologies, especially the internet, b) the twenty-first century’s heightened ecological consciousness and c) a recent surge in enthusiasm for sites marginalised by modernity and unscathed by ‘supermodernity’. The impact of these changes has meant that the historical reasons for abandoning small rural and mountainous villages (isolation, lack of employment opportunities, natural disasters and being excluded from modernity), are no longer such powerful obstacles to prevent their reawakening.

Some issues that emerged from the research are worth examining further. The first is that while tourism is the number one vehicle for reviving abandoned villages in Italy, changing the form, ownership and function of places for a fluctuating tourist market tends to promulgate merely nostalgic or aesthetic visions of Italy’s complex and valuable cultural patrimony. This risks transforming authentic expressions of cultural heritage into simplistic commodities. Another concern is that some contemporary spectators interpret the alterity of ruins as permission to create exclusive worlds. Re-awakening projects which embrace this vision remove towns from their historical and territorial context and irreversibly sever the link between the town and its original inhabitants – the true custodians of site-specific knowledge and culture. Converting historical communities into exclusive commodities undermines their potential to inspire genuine reflection and connection. Community-led projects, which sought to revive semi-abandoned villages rather than those led by ‘outsiders’ who resurrected long-neglected ruins, were arguably more effective at maintaining an authentic link between past and present.

Current conversations about Italy’s historical villages in abandonment could benefit from a deeper understanding of places as dynamic and flexible rather than bounded or static (Agnew, 2011). This vision might generate a more honest assessment of their strengths and shadows rather than celebrating their otherness or fixity (Teti, 2017). By acknowledging that traditions and culture must be continually reproduced and re-invented, Italy’s historical villages might retain their value as sites of genuine community and authentic (living) culture while maintaining their relevance in the contemporary globalising world (Bertolino, 2014). This stimulating but relatively unexplored topic could contribute to the global discussion of new ways that people are perceiving and interacting with place in the twenty-first century.

References

Agnew, John. ‘Space and Place’. In John Agnew & David Livingstone (eds). The Sage Handbook of Geographical Knowledge. London: Sage, 2011, pp. 316-330.

Bertolino, Maria Anna. Eppur si vive; Nuove pratiche del vivere e dell’abitare nella Alpi occidentali, Roma: Meti Edizioni, 2014.

De Silvey, Caitlin & Tim Edensor. ‘ Reckoning with Ruins’ in Progress in Human Geography. Vol. 37, no. 4, 2012, pp.465-485.

Serico Gruppo Cresme. ‘Rapporto sull’Italia del ‘disagio insediativo’; 1996/2016 eccellenze e ghost town nell’Italia dei piccoli comuni’, Confcommercio-Legambiente. (Agosto 2008) pp. 1-150.

Teti, Vito. Quel che resta; l’Italia dei paesi tra abbandonati e ritorni, Roma: Donzelli Editore, 2017.

Dr Kristen Sloan was recently awarded her PhD by the University of Wollongong.

Remembering Primo Levi

Thu, 31 Oct 2019 16:17:00 GMT

As part of the initiative Primo Levi: Writer, Witness, Scientist which commemorates the centenary of Levi’s birth, Paul Forgasz will give a talk on Italia Ebraica: The Jews of Italy. A historical perspective, on Tuesday 19 November 2019 , 6.30-8pm , at 199 Faraday Street, Carlton VIC 3053 (free event, RSVP essential here ). The Italian Jewish narrative does not fit neatly into the conventional divisions of the Jewish Diaspora: Mizrahi (Middle Eastern/North African), Sephardi (Spanish) and Ashkenazi (Franco-German). Indeed, there are maps of the Jewish world in which Italy is depicted as a distinctive and unusually complex sub-culture. The Jewish community in Rome is one of the oldest surviving diasporas, its antiquity reflected in a distinctive Roman liturgical rite still in use today. Italy has also been home to an Ashkenazi community since the late Middle Ages, and then, in the wake of the expulsion from Spain in 1492, a Sephardi community. Rabbis and scholars thus lived within the boundaries of traditional Jewish communities whilst simultaneously contributing to the cultural and intellectual traditions of the wider society of which they were a part. Paul Forgasz will provide a survey of the very rich and variegated history of the Jews of Italy: from their earliest presence in Roman times, to the highs and lows of the medieval Jewish experience, through to Italian Jewry’s encounter with modern world. Paul Forgasz’s career has spanned both the secondary and tertiary sectors of education. For more than a decade he was the Headmaster of the secondary school campus of Mount Scopus College, a large K-12 Jewish day school in Melbourne. He was a lecturer in Jewish history and comparative religion at Monash University’s Australian Centre for Jewish Education and taught about Jewish education, as well as school leadership, in the university’s Faculty of Education. Paul has maintained an active involvement for many years in Jewish adult education, particularly through the Jewish Museum of Australia’s community education program. Since 2010, under the auspices of the Jewish Museum of Australia, he has also led a number of Jewish study tours to various European destinations including Spain, Italy, Germany, Vienna, Poland and Lithuania. In 2020, Paul will conduct a first-time tour of Jewish Greece.

The sense of place on page and screen

Sat, 12 Oct 2019 13:47:00 GMT

Two current talks emphasise the importance of the specific local setting for the central action in Italian fiction. First, Barbara Pezzotti (Monash) has begun a series of SBS podcasts on the Italian gialli ( romanzi criminali ) with a piece on gialli in Milan . She discusses the changing role of the city itself, first the centre, then the periphery, as portrayed by authors from Giorgio Scerbanenco (eg. Traditori di tutti , 1966) to Rosa Teruzzi (eg. La fioraia del Giambellino , 2017). Her forthcoming city-centred analyses will include Turin, Bologna and Rome. Second, Mark Nicholls (University of Melbourne) concludes his talks on classic Italian films – Roma città aperta (Rossellini, 1945), Ladri di biciclette (De Sica, 1948), La dolce vita (Fellini, 1959), Il conformista (Bertolucci, 1970) and Morte a Venezia (Visconti, 1971) – with a discussion of Nuovo Cinema Paradiso (Tornatore, 1988) on Tuesday 22 Oct 2019 , 6.30-8pm . at 199 Faraday St, Carlton, VIC 3053 (free event – RSVP essential here ). Tornatore’s depiction of small-town life in Sicily after 1945 is the essential background for understanding the place of cinema-going in the creation of collective memory and (often) nostalgia.

Where is Parnassus now?

Fri, 20 Sep 2019 08:14:00 GMT

Dear Muses? Essays in Poetry by Simon West (Puncher & Wattmann, 2019), a book of essays on Australian and Italian poetry, and especially on the presence of Classical and Renaissance literature in Australia today, will be launched on Wed 9 Oct 2019, 6.30-8pm, at CO.AS.IT, 199 Faraday St, Carlton 3053. Does it make sense to […]

Luciana d’Arcangeli Opens SAGA Adelaide Film Festival

Mon, 26 Aug 2019 01:26:00 GMT

Luciana d’Arcangeli, Cassamarca Senior Lecturer at Flinders University, was recently invited to open the second SAGA Adelaide Women’s International Film Festival. Inaugurated in Stockholm, and dedicated to showcasing the work of amateur as well as professional female film makers, this year’s Adelaide SAGA showed a selection of 36 films. SBS’s Magica Fossati recorded this interview with Dr d’Arcangeli (pictured at left together with Mona Khazim the founder of SAGA).

Gli italiani che se ne vanno

Wed, 21 Aug 2019 08:01:00 GMT

Un fascicolo recente della rivista Il Mulino (2018, n.6), Viaggio tra gli italiani all’estero , offre un ritratto dettagliato della nuova emigrazione italiana. Diviso in tre parti – dati, esperienza, rappresentazione – il ritratto si basa non solo sui numeri e sul quadro sociologico dell’emigrazione ma anche su descrizioni in prima persona dei soggiorni all’estero (motivi della partenza, esperienze in nuove città. possibilità o meno di ritorno). Ci sono rapporti da molti paesi, offrendo un panorama che cerca di comprendere la reale natura di un fenomeno che, come dice la presentazione, è ‘assai variegato, difficile da cogliere e molto spesso presentato per stereotipi’. L’ Istituto Italiano di Cultura di Melbourne (233 Domain Rd, South Yarra) ospiterà un dibattito in inglese sul tema, Thursday August 29,2019 , 6:30 –8:00 pm , con contributi di Robert Pascoe, Delfina Licata e Francesco Ricatti.

Celebrating Italian Studies at UWA

Tue, 06 Aug 2019 11:01:00 GMT

The series of public lectures celebrating Italian Studies at UWA (where the first lectureship in Italian in Australia was established in 1929) continues. Following an introduction by John Kinder, the talks, which can be heard by clicking on the title links below, have been given by Robert Hollingworth (‘ Shaping the invisible: Images reflected in music ‘), Stefano Carboni (‘ Venice and the Ottomans: A visual artistic journey between the Serenissima and Istanbul ‘) and Susan Broomhall (‘ Missing Magnificence: Tracing Catherine de Medici’s hidden cultural legacy ‘). The series continues on 13 August, 6pm-7pm, Murdoch Lecture Theatre, UWA Arts Building , with a lecture by Catherine Kovesi on Italy and the Invention of Luxury . Luxury as a concept and practice has a long and often sordid past from which it has never entirely freed itself. Italy is at the heart of luxury throughout its chequered history, from its fifteenth-century definition and first articulations to its broader manifestations in present-day luxury brands and the untrammelled consumption of our age.

Special issue of Fulgor “Intercultural Aspects of Translation, Interpreting and Communication”

Tue, 06 Aug 2019 03:42:00 GMT

Giorgione, La tempesta

Luciana d’Arcangeli and Tets Kimura, both of Flinders University in South Australia, have guest edited the latest issue (July 2019, v.6, no.1) of the journal Fulgor . Dedicated to “ Intercultural Aspects of Translation, Interpreting and Communicating “, this issue showcases the work of postgraduate students, all of whom presented at the AUSiT National Conference held in Adelaide in November 2018. Apart from the introductory essay by the editors, and the article by Junko Ichikawa on the applicability of theory to the work of translation, of particular interest to Italian Studies is the analysis by Luisa Conte (RMIT) of a translation into English of a notarial deed dealing with the legal management of the estate of a recently deceased property owner in the city of Pisa and containing a detailed description of the estate, including its residential and business assets.

ACIS–Save Venice Fellows for 2019 announced

Fri, 02 Aug 2019 08:00:00 GMT

ACIS is very pleased to announce that Jen McFarland and Emma Barron have been awarded ACIS – Save Venice Fellowships for 2019.

Jen McFarland’s project, Pizzochere and public presence in late fifteenth- and sixteenth-century Venice , is a study of pizzochere ( lay religious women), examining their identity, social status, and activities and drawing on material in the Archivio Storico Patriarcale di Venezia and the Archivio di Stato di Venezia, as well as painting cycles in the Gallerie dell’Accademia. Pizzochere groups held a significant social and charitable function in sixteenth-century Venice, offering vital spaces of assistance and agency for women of varied (but mostly vulnerable) social backgrounds.

Emma Barron’s project, Popular access to ideas about the modern world through mass culture in post-war Italy , examines social change and media coverage of the Venice Art Biennale and Venice Film Festival in the late 1960s, using materials from the Archivio Storico della Biennale di Venezia, Archivio dello Stato and the Biblioteca della Fondazione Querini Stampalia. She will analyse ideas about Venice as a site of glamour, wealth and film-stars and the events that led to Venice becoming a site of protest during the 1968 student demonstrations at the 34th Venice Art Biennale and the 29th Venice Film Festival.

Recipients of ACIS Postgraduate Scholarships for Research in Italy, 2020

Thu, 01 Aug 2019 13:33:00 GMT

ACIS is offering UP TO THREE scholarships worth $6,000 each to provide postgraduate students at an Australian or New Zealand university with the opportunity to work on a research project in Italy in 2020 . For one of the awards, the Dino De Poli Scholarship, preference may be given to applications for research on any aspect of the culture, history and society of North East Italy. The scholarships are available to students who are currently enrolled, full-time or part-time, in Master by research or PhD degrees in a university in Australia or New Zealand and who are engaged in research projects in any of the following areas of Italian Studies: archaeology and classical antiquities, language, literature, culture, history, politics and society, including migration studies. Full details of the scholarships, eligibility, and the application process can be found here . The deadline for submission of applications is SUNDAY 13 OCTOBER 2019 .

Lavazza Film Festival 2019

Tue, 23 Jul 2019 09:00:00 GMT

Palace Cinemas ha annunciato alcuni degli highlight della ventesima edizione del Lavazza Film Festival dedicato al cinema italiano. A partire dal 17 settembre saranno presentati 26 tra i migliori film italiani recenti e alcune gemme del cinema classico, accompagnati da Special Presentations, aperitivi, ricevimenti e galà. Tra i film ci saranno Pavarotti di Ron Howard, Bangla , che racconta la storia di Phaim, un giovane musulmano di origini bengalesi nato in Italia, Momenti di trascurabile felicità di Daniele Luchetti, e anche una retrospettiva dedicata a Bernardo Bertolucci, che includerà Novecento e Il Conformista . Il Festival sarà presentato nelle seguenti città: Sydney (17 settembre – 16 ottobre), Melbourne (19 settembre – 16 ottobre), Canberra (24 settembre – 16 ottobre), Brisbane (25 settembre – 16 ottobre), Adelaide (1 – 23 ottobre), Perth (2 – 16 ottobre), Hobart (17 – 23 ottobre), e Byron Bay (26 settembre – 13 ottobre). Il programma completo (film, luoghi di presentazione, orari, città per città) è qui .

Andrea Camilleri (1925 – 2019)

Fri, 19 Jul 2019 12:46:00 GMT

Mercoledì mattina è mancato all’età di 93 anni Andrea Camilleri, regista, attore, docente, ma conosciuto soprattutto come creatore in più di venti libri del commissario Salvo Montalbano e delle sue indagini nella Sicilia sud-orientale. Sia in Italia che all’estero Camilleri ha goduto di uno straordinario successo editoriale, giunto in età avanzata (scrisse il suo primo romanzo con Montalbano quando aveva quasi 70 anni). In un’intervista a SBS Barbara Pezzotti (Monash University), analizzando i diversi motivi di quel successo, ha riassunto il carattere del protagonista così: “Il commissario Montalbano è un personaggio molto particolare: se pensiamo c’è tutta una tradizione del giallo in cui il detective è triste, isolato, preda a grande disperazione, molto spesso alcolizzato, tossicodipendente… qui invece ci troviamo di fronte ad un secondo filone della crime fiction, che è un filone in realtà moltissimo amato, che è dell’ispettore che ama la vita, pensiamo a Maigret per esempio, a Vásquez Montálban: è un ispettore che ama la vita, ama mangiare, ama la bellezza, ha molti difetti, quindi non è perfetto, non è atletico, non è un superuomo, quindi possiamo identificarci con lui… ma è fondamentalmente una persona onesta, a volte burbero, però ha una grande sensibilità e una grande empatia nell’affrontare le sue indagini”.

Silk, Gold, and Renaissance Masculinity

Thu, 18 Jul 2019 08:24:00 GMT

Timothy McCall (Villanova University) will be giving a lecture, ‘ Velvet Goldmine: Silk, Gold, and Renaissance Masculinity ‘ on Tuesday, July 30, 2019 in the North Theatre (room 149), Old Arts Building , at the University of Melbourne (free but registration required here ). The ruling men of Renaissance Italy wrapped themselves in silks and jewels, feathers and pearls. To dazzle the eye, they wore cloth-of-gold and cloth-of-silver, but sometimes the gems were made of paste, intended to deceive observers. All that glittered was not necessarily gold. Building from a study of material extravagance and the symbolic economy of male court fashions, this lecture explores the shining surfaces and things which adorned lords’ bodies and turns a critical eye to material fictions of luxury. Biography:Timothy McCall is Associate Professor of Art History, and director of the Art History Program at Villanova University. Tim’s research centers on Italian Renaissance art and on visual intersections of power and gender (particularly masculinity), in addition to histories of fashion and material culture.

Inquiries: Professor Anne Dunlop, anne.dunlop@unimelb.edu.au

Looking at Leonardo's 'Girl with an Ermine'

Mon, 15 Jul 2019 13:01:00 GMT

Timothy McCall (Villanova University) will give a talk, Leonardo da Vinci’s portrait of a Milanese courtesan: new light on Cecilia Gallerani, the Girl with an Ermine , on Monday 29 July 2019 , 6.15pm at the Forum Theatre, level 1 – Arts West, The University of Melbourne (registration here ). He focuses our attention anew on Leonardo da Vinci’s famous Girl with an Ermine (1489-1490), a depiction of Cecilia Gallerani, mistress of the duke of Milan, Ludovico Sforza, examining the artistic representation of Cecilia both within conventions surrounding Renaissance mistresses at court and in relation to visual imagery celebrating her and her lord Ludovico’s identities. New evidence from an overlooked letter and technical analysis of the painting reveals that the relationship between the two began earlier than scholars have presumed (Cecilia was barely a teenager) and provides a fresh perspective on her connection with Leonardo da Vinci and her advertisement of that connection throughout her life. Timothy McCall is Associate Professor of Art History, and director of the Art History Program, at Villanova University. His research centers on Italian Renaissance court art and society, and on visual intersections of power and gender (particularly masculinity) more broadly, in addition to histories of fashion and material culture.

‘La notte nuda’ di Mariano Coreno

Wed, 19 Jun 2019 13:41:00 GMT

Il poeta Mariano Coreno sarà presente ad una serata di letture dal suo ultimo lavoro, La notte nuda , a 199 Faraday St, Carlton , martedì il 23 luglio , dalle 18.30 alle 20.00 . Nato in Italia nel 1939 e residente in Australia dal 1956, Mariano Coreno collabora a svariati giornali e riviste in Italia e in Australia. Tra il 2001 e il 2017 ha pubblicato cinque raccolte di poesie ( Stelle passanti ; Sotto le stelle ; L’ombra delle rose ; Un albero per ombrello ; Canto la vita mia ). Dagli anni 70 in poi i suoi versi sono stati inclusi in antologie inglesi, italiane e australiane. La serata sarà introdotta da Gregoria Manzin (La Trobe University), autrice di Torn Identities: Life Stories at the Border of Italian Literature (Trobadour, 2013) e di pubblicazioni su argomenti di traduzione, studi di genere e studi migranti, postcoloniali e transnazionali.

Women and violence in Italian literature

Wed, 05 Jun 2019 20:49:00 GMT

The journal Spunti e Ricerche has published Women and Violence in Italian Literature (2018, vol.33), a special issue edited by Gregoria Manzin and Barbara Pezzotti. The nine contributions draw on examples mainly from 20th century novelists (Maraini, Albinati, Patti) but include discussions of a play (Dacia Maraini’s Passi affrettati) and poetry (the works of Margherita Guidacci). Also addressed is the place of gender violence in Federico De Roberto’s novels ( I Viceré , L’imperio , Ermanno Raeli ) the portrayal of violence in religious schools in colonial Somalia by postcolonial Italo-Somali authors (Scego, Ali Farah), and the representation of female characters in the crime fiction series by Scerbanenco, Lucarelli, and Verasani. Although the contributors don’t neglect the socio-political context of the works they analyse, their primary emphasis is mostly on the texts themselves – the narrative strategies employed, the embedding of violence in the relations between male and female protagonists, the ways in which the representations of particular acts – the delitto del Circeo , the bombing of Bologna railway station – depict the general role violence plays in everyday life. Overall, the discussions contain valuable insights into the descriptive and often deceptive powers of Italian fiction; they also push us to understand the implications – and perhaps the consequences – of literary treatments of violence better than we have been able to grasp so far.

Cycling in Italy, past and present

Wed, 22 May 2019 07:09:00 GMT

Great Rivalries. Cycling and the Story of Italy by Kevin Andrews with a Foreword by Simon Gerrans will be launched at 199 Faraday Street, Carlton on Tuesday 28 May 2019 at 6.30pm . It is the story of Gino Bartali, Fausto Coppi and the champion Italian cyclists who preceded them but it is also about the place of cycling in a nation emerging from division, an agrarian past, widespread impoverishment, and competing visions about creating a modern state. Kevin Andrews, who will be at the launch, began working as a sports commentator and race caller from the age of 17. For a decade, he called many sporting events before pursuing a career in the law and public life. He has written about sport for a number of publications and has been a guest commentator for track cycling. He is a keen recreational cyclist and intermittent Masters’ competitor. His youngest son rides for a UCI Continental Team.

Romantic adventures; the Free Cinema movement; and an 18th century duel

Sat, 30 Mar 2019 17:53:00 GMT

This week’s TLS (March 29) is a special issue devoted to European culture which includes three very informative pieces on Italian writers. David Robey reviews the first two volumes of the eventual four volumes on Emilio Salgari (1862-1911) by Ann Lawson Lucas. Salgari’s adventure romances, Robey suggests, all contain the defining features of the genre: ‘heroes of exceptional strength and prowess and heroines of remarkable beauty; idealised passionate love; plots made up of travel, chance events and physical conflict or struggle’ (features generated exclusively by Salgari’s imagination and his life in the library stacks since he never left Italy and had to spend all his time writing). Then Anna Coatman reviews the English translation of the lively London diaries of the film director Lorenza Mazzetti (she announced ‘I’m a genius’ when she first arrived at the Slade School of Fine Art from work on a potato farm and the Slade’s director invited her to come back the next day). She became one of the founders of the Free Cinema movement (‘Perfection is not an aim. An attitude means a style. A style means an attitude’) along with Karel Reisz, Lindsay Anderson and Tony Richardson. Mazzetti died on 4 January 2020: here is one obituary . Finally, Joseph Farrell describes the duel (‘Pistols for two and coffee for one’) fought, or at least performed, in 1766 between Giacomo Casanova and Count Franciszek Branicki. Branicki was the more seriously wounded but the duellists continued to exchange good wishes daily for their respective recoveries.

Il plotone perduto: il 26 marzo 1944

Mon, 25 Mar 2019 18:36:00 GMT

l 26 marzo del 1944, settantacinque anni fa, quindici soldati italoamericani furono trucidati dai nazisti ad Ameglia in Liguria dopo il fallimento di una missione di sabotaggio. Un episodio quasi trascurato dagli storici: e i quindici soldati sono ricordati solo da una lapide in un borgo remoto. Il 26 marzo, al Centro Studi Americani di Roma (via Caetani 32), si è tenuto un convegno con dibattito e approfondimento della storia del “plotone perduto” con interventi dello storico Massimo Teodori, il Procuratore generale della Corte militare d’appello, Marco De Paolis, il vicedirettore di Repubblica, Gianluca Di Feo, il vicedirettore di Rai Cultura, Giuseppe Giannotti, e il presidente della Oss Society, Charles Pinck. La Repubblica (Rep) ha raccontato il massacro, con una versione anche in inglese .

Indelible/Indelibile - Conference. New deadline for Call for Papers.

Sun, 24 Mar 2019 13:50:00 GMT

The new deadline for the submission of paper proposals to the international Interdisciplinary conference, INDELIBLE / INDELEBILE – Representation in the arts of (in)visible violence against women and their resistance , supported by ACIS on 23-25 October 2019 at Flinders University in Adelaide (South Australia), is 30 March 2019 (details for submissions below). Our interdisciplinary conference aims to contribute to the ‘glocal’ conversation on the topic of gendered violence and at the same time raise awareness of the global extent of the problem by analysing ways in which both such violence and resistance to it are represented in the arts. While a key strand of the conference will concern the arts in contemporary Italy, its scope will be broad, encouraging comparison with other societies across space and time. Keynote speakers will be Dacia Maraini (accompanied by a performance of her Passi affrettati) and Sarah Wendt. We welcome papers engaging with any of the following (and associated) topics, in relation to poetry, literature, theatre, opera, music, cinema or other visual arts:

Family violence
Places and sites of violence
War, conflict and violence
Migration, diaspora and violence
Resistance vs politics
Language and images of violence and resistance
Myth in representations of violence
Historical developments and representations viewed through a contemporary lens
Activism and international campaigns (including #MeToo / #wetoogether / #TimesUp / Se non ora quando / Non una di meno / La violenza non è amore / Panchine rosse)

The performance of Passi affrettati (Hurried Steps), in rehearsed-reading style, will be followed by a forum discussion to allow further exploration of the issues raised, with a panel of people experienced in working in women’s support services.

Submissions: please send a 250-300 word abstract (in Italian or English) and a short bio to Luciana d’Arcangeli in an email titled “ACIS 2019 INDELIBLE-INDELEBILE”, by 30 March 2019 . A selection of papers will be published in a special issue of a highly ranked journal or dedicated volume. The conference is supported by the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies (ACIS) and is part of the ACIS Visual and Performing Arts Research Group project.

Please click here for more information and for registration.

Luciana d’Arcangeli (Flinders University)
Giorgia Alù (University of Sydney)
Daniela Cavallaro (University of Auckland)
Sally Hill (Victoria University of Wellington)
Claire Kennedy (Griffith University)

Civil Society and Reconciliation: Voices from Post-War Japan, Germany, and Italy

Fri, 22 Mar 2019 12:00:00 GMT

François Mitterrand and Helmut Kohl link hands at the cemetery beside the battlefield of Verdun at a meeting in 1984 © AP

Lasting reconciliation with former enemies after a war is a difficult and distressing process. Yet, beyond the war crimes trials, public discussion of Second World War crimes in West Germany, Italy and Japan in the post-war period was extremely sparse. Controversies over the responsibilities for key events remain today. CO.AS.IT, in collaboration with the University of Melbourne, will host, as a free event, a discussion of the project Civil Society and Reconciliation introduced by its directors Claudia Astarita and Akihiro Ogawa (Asia Institute, The University of Melbourne) on Thursday 28 March 2019 , 6.30-8pm at 199 Faraday Street, Carlton, VIC , followed by the screening of the project’s documentary and remarks by Riccardo Brizzi (University of Bologna) and Laura Fontana (European Holocaust Research Infrastructure, Paris). Their descriptions of their own work can be found here . Akihiro OGAWA is Professor of Japanese Studies at the University of Melbourne’s Asia Institute. He completed a PhD in Anthropology in 2004 at Cornell University, followed by two years of postdoctoral work at Harvard University’s Program on US-Japan Relations and Department of Anthropology. He then taught at Stockholm University, Sweden, from 2007 to 2015. His major research interest is in contemporary Japanese society, focussing on civil society.

Claudia ASTARITA is a Fellow at the Asia Institute, the University of Melbourne, and Lecturer at Sciences Po, Paris. She obtained her Ph.D. in Asian Studies from Hong Kong University in early 2010. Her main research interests include China’s political and economic development, Chinese and Indian Foreign policies, East Asian regionalism and regional economic integration, Asian Civil Society, and the role of media and memory in reshaping historical narratives in Asia.

Riccardo BRIZZI is Associate Professor of Contemporary History at the University of Bologna, and visiting Professor at several European Universities (Sciences Po Paris, Sciences Po Lyon, Paris Assas etc.). His main research interests include European political History (19th and 20th century) with a focus on French political history, history of political communication in the 20th and 21th century and Sports history.

Laura FONTANA is one of the leading Holocaust educators in Europe with nearly 30 years of teaching experience. Since 1994 she has been in charge of an educational programme devoted to the teaching of the Holocaust under the name of “Education and Remembrance”. She joined Mémorial de la Shoah of Paris in 2008 as the head of its newly founded Italian Department.

This event is associated with the workshop “Embedding the Apology in the Media: How Civil Society Contributes to Reconciliation,” The University of Melbourne, Wednesday 27 March 2019. For more information, click here .

Celebrating 90 years of Italian Studies at the University of Western Australia

Tue, 05 Mar 2019 09:54:00 GMT

Professor John Kinder at the University of Western Australia

On 20 March, Professor John Kinder will launch a special lecture series to celebrate 90 years of Italian Studies at the University of Western Australia. It was a Venetian, Francesco Vanzetti, who offered the first courses of Italian at the University back in 1929. It should be noted that his was the first appointment of a lecturer in Italian at any university anywhere in Australia. Supported by the Institute of Advanced Studies and by Italian Studies at UWA, the full programme of lectures is available here. Professor Kinder’s lecture is entitled ‘Italians in Nineteenth-Century Western Australia, and how a Venetian Industrial Chemist Came from Kalgoorlie to Teach Italian at the University of Western Australia’. It will be held in the Fox Lecture Theatre, UWA Arts Building, 18:00-19:00 pm.

Inaugural ACIS Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Melbourne

Thu, 28 Feb 2019 12:58:00 GMT

We are delighted to announce the appointment of Dr Laura Lori as the inaugural ACIS Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Melbourne. By creating and co-funding this position, ACIS is affirming its commitment to new PhD graduates in Italian Studies, recognising the difficulties they face in the current national and international academic climate. Laura completed her PhD in Italian Studies at La Trobe University, and has recently concluded a period as a non-stipendiary Honorary Research Associate of ACIS. In that role she worked productively under the mentorship of Luciana d’Arcangeli at Flinders University, as evidenced by her research achievements outlined here . Laura describes her new two-year fellowship research proposal on Afro-Italian storytelling as follows: “My research aims to analyse how artists and migrants from the African Diaspora use theatre and literature to create a new transcultural identity in Italy. Specifically, I intend to work on how the collective or individual re-writing and mise en scène of theatrical plays by theatre companies and young migrants reshapes the idea of Italianness and challenges the nationalist and sovereignty discourse. I intend to work on three case studies in Italy creating a pilot project potentially applicable to similar realities in Australia.” We wish Laura all the very best with her Fellowship, and look forward to reporting on her research outcomes over the coming two years.

ACIS 10th Biennial Conference, Wellington 2019

Tue, 19 Feb 2019 03:47:00 GMT

ACIS Conference Wellington 2019 delegates at the Te Herenga Waka Marae, Victoria University Kelburn campus (this and all photos of the Pōwhiri are by Colin McDiarmid, Victoria University of Wellington)

Despite Wellington being touted as the windiest city in the world, the elements were gentle on the 80 participants who flew in from across the world to take part in the 10th biennial ACIS Conference, Navigazioni possibili: Italies Lost and Found at Victoria University, Wellington, New Zealand. Many congratulations to Sally Hill and Claudia Bernardi for hosting a delightful, stimulating, and welcoming ACIS conference. It was a conference which witnessed several firsts: our first ACIS group photograph; our first traditional Maori pōwhiri at the Te Herenga Waka Marae on the university’s Kelburn campus; and the first ACIS keynote lecture delivered barefoot within a marae. Being greeted individually with the hongi set the tone for what was to follow – stimulating conversations, keynotes, and individual papers delivered in an atmosphere of great collegiality which demonstrated quite clearly that Italian Studies in Australasia are flourishing. It was also announced that ACIS 2021, the celebration of twenty years of ACIS’s foundation, will be held in the location of its inaugural conference at the Australian National University, Canberra and will be hosted by Susanna Scarparo and Josh Brown – watch this space.

One of our tangata whenua welcomes us to the marae

The kaikaranga welcomes the manuhiri to the marae

Assoc. Prof. Marco Sonzogni, Conference co-convenors Dr Sally Hill and Dr Claudia Bernardi, Dean of the Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences Prof. Sarah Leggott, and the Italian consul

Training the next generation of ACIS participants

Dr Flavia Laviosa, Wellesley College, and editor of the Journal of Italian Cinema and Media Studies

Prof Clorinda Donato, California State University

Assoc. Prof. Timothy McCall, Villanova University, Philadelphia

Assoc. Prof. Mark Seymour, University of Otago

Rory McKenzie, PhD candidate Victoria University, and winner of the 2019 Jo-Anne Duggan essay prize

Dr John Gagné, University of Sydney

Dr Claudia Bernardi

Conference co-convenor Dr Claudia Bernardi, welcomes participants to the conference

Assoc. Prof. Andrea Rizzi introduces keynote speaker Prof. Elizabeth Horodowich

Prof. Elizabeth Horodowich about to deliver her keynote address – barefoot in the marae

Keynote speaker Prof. Mark Seymour

‘Vogliamo anche le rose' - special screening

Wed, 06 Feb 2019 15:55:00 GMT

In partnership with the Italian Cultural Institute and Artist Film Workshop, Co.As.It. will present a screening of Vogliamo anche le rose on Friday 15 February 2019 , 6:30pm , 199 Faraday Street, Melbourne (free event, RSVP here ). The film’s director, Alina Marazzi , known for her explorations of the intricacies of female subjectivity, motherhood and memory, will be present to talk about her work. Her first feature-length film, Un’ora sola ti vorrei (2002), is a documentary she made about her mother who took her own life when Alina was four years old, told through her mother’s diaries and home movie footage in the Italy of the 1960s and 1970s. Vogliamo anche le rose (2007) is organised around accounts by three very different women, Anita, Teresa and Valentina, who feel themselves similarly socially and culturally displaced in the 1970s. The film is a penetrating critique of the Italian family life of the time and of the expectations on women to be efficient mothers, obedient wives and virtuous daughters.

Return to the ACIS Cassamarca Fold – Professor Yasmin Haskell

Sat, 02 Feb 2019 22:48:00 GMT

ACIS is delighted to announce that Professorial Fellow Yasmin Haskell (foundation Cassamarca Chair in Latin Humanism) is returning to the University of Western Australia after two years at the University of Bristol, United Kingdom. In Bristol she was Chair of Latin in the Department of Classics and Ancient History and served as Director of the Institute of Greece, Rome and the Classical Tradition. Some highlights of her time in Europe were commissioning an historically-informed concert performance of the Viennese baroque Jesuit musical drama,Mulier Fortis(Strong Woman) in collaboration with her former UWA PhD student, Dr Makoto Harris Takao (Max Planck Institute for Human Development, Berlin); and several invited talks on Latin humanist topics, for instance at the Accademia Vivarium Novum (Frascati), European University Institute, Florence; University of Bologna; Catholic University of Milan; and most recently, to the Virgil Society, London. In November 2018 she gave the 39th annual Erasmus lecture at the Royal Academy of the Netherlands, Amsterdam, on ‘Erasmus and the Health of Scholars: Physical, Emotional, Spiritual’, and an associated masterclass for selected graduate students on ‘Passions for and of Learning in the Early Modern Period’. We wish Prof. Haskell a gentle landing on Australian soil, and look forward to hearing about her further activities in the coming year.

ACIS Save Venice Fellowships 2019

Fri, 18 Jan 2019 08:27:00 GMT

ACIS Save Venice Fellowships: three months, $8000 11 March, 2019 here .

New Chair of ACIS

Tue, 08 Jan 2019 14:14:00 GMT

ACIS is very pleased that Catherine Kovesi has accepted appointment as its new Chair (2019-2021). She has a BA from the University of Western Australia and a D.Phil in History from the University of Oxford. She was a Craig Hugh Smyth Fellow at Villa I Tatti in Florence (2008) and has held fellowships at Oriel College, Oxford (1989-1991, 2011). She has been a Visiting Researcher at the Fondazione Studium Generale Marcianum, and the Università Cà Foscari, Venice (2013-2014) and a network partner of the international Luxury Network, funded by the Leverhulme Trust (2013-2015). She has recently been appointed General Editor of the forthcoming six-volume Bloomsbury series A Cultural History of Luxury and is on the Editorial Board of the Brepols Late Medieval and Early Modern Series. Her main research areas are the discourses surrounding luxury consumption in early modern Italy, and Venetian and Florentine family and political history.

Awards for Jo-Anne Duggan Prize 2019

Tue, 11 Dec 2018 14:51:00 GMT

ACIS is delighted to congratulate the winners of the Jo-Anne Duggan Prize for 2019 for Best Essay, Best Creative Work, and Highly Recommended. Rory McKenzie (PhD candidate, VUW, New Zealand) has been awarded the Best Essay prize for his project entitled ‘ A translation stalemate: The Dark Horse in Italian ‘. Valentina Maniacco (PhD candidate, Griffith University) has been awarded the Best Creative Work prize for her entry ‘ Translating the allusions in Tito Maniacco’s Mestri di mont (2007 )’. And Nicole Townsend (PhD candidate, UNSW) has been Highly Recommended for her essay entry ‘ The ‘enemy other’: Identity and belonging within the Italian-Australian community during the Second World War ‘. The abstracts for each of the three entries can be found on the Winners page under Prize on our main menu above.

Learning Italian in Australia

Fri, 07 Dec 2018 09:39:00 GMT

This month Channel View Publications/Multilingual Matters is publishing Identity Trajectories of Adult Second Language Learners: Learning Italian in Australia by Cristiana Palmieri (Italian Studies, University of Sydney). The book explores the motivations of adult second language (L2) learners to learn Italian in continuing education settings in Australia. It focuses on their motivational drives, learning trajectories […]

ACIS Postgraduate Scholarships for Research in Italy, 2019

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 10:47:00 GMT

ACIS is delighted to congratulate the three winners of the ACIS Cassamarca postgraduate scholarships for research in Italy in 2019. Julia Pelosi-Thorpe (MA, Italian Studies (University of Melbourne) awarded the Dino De Poli Scholarship for her project ‘ Imitate da Ovidio : gender ventriloquism in the seicento epistole eroiche’ ; Andrea Pagani (PhD, Literary and Cultural Studies, Monash University) for ‘Beyond Pinocchio: Italian National Identity in Carlo Collodi’s Works for Primary Schools (1877-1890)’; and Margherita Angelucci (PhD, Literary and Cultural Studies, Monash University) for ‘A New Way of Being Italian through the Lens of Hip Hop’. The abstracts for each project will be available shortly on the Winners page on our Scholarships menu.

Addio Bernardo Bertolucci (1941-2018)

Wed, 28 Nov 2018 21:50:00 GMT

Addio Bernardo Bertolucci

Now, with the ranks of veteran Italian film directors already depleted to single figures, Bernardo Bertolucci, in the words of Roberto Benigni “il più grande di tutti, l’ultimo imperatore del cinema italiano”, has also left us. Undoubtedly a giant not only of Italian but of world cinema, Bertolucci succeeded, in a career that spanned six decades and produced close to 20 major films, to achieve the almost impossible feat of moving with ease between an auteurist arthouse, at times even jarringly experimental, cinema and commercially successful big-budget Hollywood-financed mass entertainment. And perhaps what especially endeared him to Italians was that he managed to achieve full citizenship of the international community of world cinema without renouncing his social and cultural roots in provincial Italy.

Born during the Second World War into a cultured middle-class family in the province of Parma, not far from the home of composer Giuseppe Verdi, Bertolucci breathed literature, opera and cinema from his earliest days. His father, the renowned poet Attilio Bertolucci, was also a film reviewer and an opera lover and regularly took Bernardo and younger brother Giuseppe with him to the cinema and the theatre. Moving with his family to Rome, the young Bernardo initially seemed inclined to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a poet, the published collection of his early poems eventually earning him the prestigious literary Premio Viareggio for a first work. But the cinema continued to rule as a parallel passion. At the age of fifteen he had been given a 16mm camera and had begun making short documentary films. Three years later his high-school graduation present was a trip to Paris where he had what he always remembered as a sort of mystical experience, provoked by days and nights of watching innumerable films at the Paris Cinémathèque. It was there that he also discovered the films of the directors of the emerging French New Wave, in particular those of Jean-Luc Godard who would thus come to exert a decisive influence on his early films. On returning to Italy he seized the opportunity to assist his father’s friend, fellow-poet and writer, Pier Paolo Pasolini in his attempt to make his first film, Accattone (1961). Making the film in the absence of any real training in filmmaking proved to be a formative experience for both of them, but it crucially also established Pasolini as the second of Bertolucci’s cinematic “fathers”, whose haunting influence he would eventually be forced to exorcise in order to affirm his own artistic autonomy. It was thus inevitable that, while demonstrating an impressive command of film language and technique, Bertolucci’s first solo feature, La commare secca ( The Grim Reaper , 1962), also revealed the strong influence of both Godard and Pasolini. Two years later he began to find his own style in Prima della rivoluzione ( Before The Revolution , 1964), a film still showing strong traces of Godard but set completely in Bertolucci’s native Parma and with that distinctly autobiographical dimension that would characterise his early films from then on. In spite of a warm critical response at Cannes, the film’s lack of commercial success in Italy led to the young auteur abandoning the big screen for a period in favour of making documentaries for national television.

After also working on the screenplay of Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), he returned to feature filmmaking with Partner (1968), an unsettling film loosely based on a novel by Fyodor Dostoyevsky and clearly influenced by both Godard and the radical ideas of the New York Living Theatre. The film’s intentionally shrill anti-commercial ethos ensured a lack of popular appeal but both Bertolucci’s style and fortunes changed dramatically with his next feature, La strategia del ragno ( The Spider’s Stratagem , 1970). Financed by RAI television, the film was conceptually challenging and openly displayed Bertolucci’s now obsessive interest in psychoanalysis but it was visually and aurally stunning. Shown twice on national television in a single week, it had already been seen by millions of viewers by the time it was shown to loud acclaim at the Venice Festival that year.

The Spider’s Stratagem thus marked a crucial turn in Bertolucci’s filmmaking, away from a cinema of ideas that spoke only to a small intellectual élite and towards finely-crafted quality films that could appeal to a mass audience. This new direction was confirmed that same year by what is still widely regarded as his most artistically accomplished film, ll conformista ( The Conformist , 1970). Adapted from a novel by Alberto Moravia set in the Fascist period, the film ably mixed politics, psychoanalysis, and cinephilia in a consummate exercise of virtuosic filmmaking. The Conformist ’s enormous critical and commercial success, however, was far surpassed two years later by the film that made Bertolucci’s international reputation, Ultimo tango a Parigi ( Last Tango in Paris , 1972). Starring Marlon Brando and Maria Schneider in a profound study of existential alienation and sexual politics, the film won acclaim and a host of international awards, including two Oscar nominations. In an Italy still under the sway of the Vatican, however, the film quickly became embroiled in a long series of censorship battles that kept it in the courts and officially banned from Italian screens for over a decade.

In the wake of the enormous international success of Last Tango , Bertolucci was easily able to attract financing from three of the major American studios for his monumental five-and-a-half-hour historical epic, Novecento ( 1900, 1976), set and filmed in and around his native Parma. Nevertheless, in spite of its wide historical sweep and its extraordinary visual lyricism, the film was criticized from many quarters for both its ambivalent left-wing politics and its romantic approach to Italian history. It also suffered, especially in the United States, from circulating in a variety of unauthorised edited versions. Bertolucci returned to smaller-scale filmmaking with La luna ( Luna, 1979), in which he emphatically brought together two of his major interests, opera and psychoanalysis, but the film was greeted with only a tepid critical response. Two years later, La tragedia d’un uomo ridicolo ( Tragedy of a Ridiculous Man , 1981), a courageous attempt to explore the issue of political terrorism which was still rife in Italy at the time, was also generally dismissed. Bertolucci’s rejoinder, after collaborating with a number of other directors on a documentary on the death of Italian Communist Party leader Enrico Berlinguer in 1984, was L’ultimo imperatore ( The Last Emperor , 1987), the first of the English-language megaproductions that would characterize his mature period. The most successful film of his entire career, The Last Emperor attracted a legion of national and international awards including nine David di Donatello awards, four Golden Globes, and nine Oscars, thus elevating Bertolucci to a world superstar status unmatched by any postwar Italian director, with the possible exception of Federico Fellini . Nevertheless, while he then continued, with the help of his regular cinematographer, Vittorio Storaro , to produce films of similar extraordinary visual beauty, none of his subsequent works received the same attention or acclaim. The Sheltering Sky (1990), adapted from a novel by American writer Paul Bowles, was ironically more appreciated in Italy than in the United States, and Little Buddha (1993) received some critical praise but did poorly at the box office. For all its warmth and color, Stealing Beauty (1996) failed to impress, and Besieged (1998), the story of a relationship that develops in an apartment in Rome between a white American musician and a black African housekeeper, was also widely dismissed. A warmer critical reception greeted The Dreamers (2003), his re-evocation and patent celebration of sex, politics, and cinephilia in a Paris caught up in the turmoil of the events of 1968.

However, soon after the release of The Dreamers , a series of progressively more unsuccessful operations undertaken to relieve back pain resulted in his permanent confinement to a wheel-chair, raising the prospect of never being able to make another film. Nevertheless, and in the wake of a Golden Lion for career achievement at Venice in 2007, he did manage to direct Io e te ( You and Me , 2012), the adaptation of a novel by Niccolò Ammaniti which took advantage of the story’s being largely set in an urban basement. Two years later, in a moving ceremony held on the stage of the Teatro Regio of Parma which had featured prominently in his Before The Revolution , Bertolucci was awarded an honorary doctorate from the University of Parma for his contribution to culture. At the ceremony he screened Scarpette Rosse ( The Red Shoes , 2013) a two-minute film which he had made (and previously screened at Venice) in order to highlight the plight of the disabled in moving around Rome in a wheelchair.

Even as his health had declined, he had continued to plan his next film. Fellow veteran director, Paolo Taviani, reports that in his last conversation with Bertolucci only a few months before his death, he had recounted his preparations for a film which he would make utilising only three rooms which he could thus direct from his wheelchair. But, Taviani reports, he had stressed: “deve essere un film gioioso. Ci sarà la gioia”.

ACIS/University of Melbourne Postdoctoral Fellowship 2019-20

Thu, 08 Nov 2018 12:18:00 GMT

To apply, candidates must have been awarded a PhD from an Australian or New Zealand university after 1 January 2012 in any area of Italian Studies and be either citizens or permanent residents of Australia or New Zealand. Graduates who satisfy the PhD requirements and currently live in Australia under the Temporary Graduate Visa (485) expiring after the end of 2020 will also be considered. Full details of the position and the application process can be found here .

The closing date for applications is 28 November 2018.

Fellowship to honour Katthy Cavaliere

Mon, 05 Nov 2018 18:44:00 GMT

Katthy Cavaliere, nest 2010. Time-based art. Art Gallery of NSW. © Estate of Katthy Cavaliere.

The estate of the artist Katthy Cavaliere (1972-2012) has announced that it will join the Australian Centre for Contemporary Art (ACCA), Sydney’s Carriageworks, and the Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) to establish a fellowship, Suspended Moment: The Katthy Cavaliere Fellowsh i p , in support of women artists. Next year three $100,000 grants will be awarded to female-identifying Australian artists working in performance and installation; together they will realize a project to be exhibited at the three institutions in 2020. Cavaliere was born in Sarteano, Italy, in 1972, moving to Australia with her family in 1976. She attended the University NSW School of Art and Design in Sydney and studied under Marina Abramović at the Accademia di Belle Arti at Brera in Milan. She was best known for creating art informed by her migrant experience and sense of displacement as a child, as well as by her grief for her mother who died of ovarian cancer in 2008. One such work, nest, 2010, shows Cavaliere sitting on top of a pile of her mother’s clothes at Clovelly Beach in Sydney, gazing out at the horizon. Katthy Cavaliere herself died of ovarian cancer in 2012.

Mona Lisa Covergirl

Mon, 15 Oct 2018 20:59:00 GMT

Emma Barron's just-published Popular High Culture in Italian Media, 1950-1970: Mona Lisa Covergirl (Cham: Palgrave Macmillan, 2018), is an essential and engaging contribution to the study of Italian mass culture.

The book's subtitle, 'Mona Lisa Covergirl', points to the originality of its theme: how Italian high culture was deployed to create a distinctive form of mass culture in the post-1945 expansion of television and popular magazines.

Pasolini and Quasimodo providing advice to readers of Tempo (Pasolini: 'The letters are enjoyable: some of them even give me a profound joy, even if as brief as a flash.'), Mike Bongiorno promoting knowledge of the classics through Lascia o raddoppia? (15 million viewers weekly), Il barbiere di Siviglia as the first opera to be transmitted on Italian tv (1954, conducted by Carlo Maria Giulini), Giacomo Puccini endorsing Odol mouthwash ('Lodo l'ODOL, LO DOLce licor che LO DOLore del dente scaccia di sovente'), Shakespeare's lines used to sell pasta (Barilla), liquor (Amaretto di Saronno) and chocolates (Baci Perugina), I promessi sposi drawing mass tv audiences (19 million) and readerships (magazines, fotoromanzi , comics) – this study of the intertwining of the classic and the contemporary provides a fresh and productive account of the development of Italian mass culture.

The Leopard at 60

Fri, 12 Oct 2018 20:03:00 GMT

The 60th anniversary of the publication of Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s The Leopard will be celebrated at the University of Melbourne on 12-14 November 2018. On 12 November the writer Simonetta Agnello-Hornby will give an open public lecture, The North and South in 20th Century Italy and the Effect of ‘The Leopard’ in Sicily and […]

Beauty and the Beast: Venice and the rhino

Wed, 10 Oct 2018 16:09:00 GMT

In 1751 Pietro Longhi painted this portrait of the rhinoceros, Clara, brought to the Venice Carneval that year. He depicted the animal eating quietly, indifferent to its owner (carrying the horn which had rubbed off) and to the masked and other spectators in the casotto behind it. Nearly three centuries later the rhinoceros returns to […]

Ricordando Maria Bentivoglio

Sun, 23 Sep 2018 21:05:00 GMT

Laura Mecca racconta qui la vita di Maria (poi Marie) Bentivoglio. Italiana, nata a Torino nel 1898, emigrata in Australia ancora in fasce, Maria si laureò a Sydney in chimica e geologia e nel 1921 fu la prima donna australiana a ricevere una borsa di studio all’Università di Oxford dove ottenne un DPhil. Dopo, la […]

The Book, the Photo and the Stork ...

Thu, 06 Sep 2018 09:26:00 GMT

Photos move us. They enable us to travel virtually to wherever the scene is captured. They also move us by provoking emotions unleashed by the picture. Travel photography illustrates this double power especially clearly as Giorgia Alù argues in her just-published Journeys Exposed: Women’s Writing, Photography and Mobility (Routledge, 2018). The writers and photographers analysed […]

Italians in Australia: past and present

Mon, 16 Jul 2018 17:32:00 GMT

Few recent historians or social scientists have written extended studies of Italians in Australia. Several collections – different authors analysing particular aspects of Italian lifeworlds – have appeared but Gianfranco Cresciani’s The Italians in Australia (CUP, 2003, updating his 1985 original) is the only example of an overall treatment. Now Francesco Ricatti’s Italians in Australia. […]

Addio a Carlo Vanzina (1951-2018)

Sun, 15 Jul 2018 17:23:00 GMT

In 1976 he was able, teaming up with brother Enrico, to write and direct his first feature film, Luna di miele in tre , a sex comedy featuring the stand-up comedian, Renato Pozetto, then just beginning to appear in films. He continued with two films attempting to launch the film careers of I gatti di Vicolo Miracoli, a group of cabaret performers from Verona. The group’s limited talents made these fairly modest affairs but he was able to improve on these early efforts with three films showcasing the unique talents of the ebullient and voluble Diego Abatantuono , another of the emerging comics of the then thriving Milanese cabaret scene. His first major commercial success only came, however, with Sapore di mare (1983), a frothy teen holidays-at-the-beach movie which featured a memorable soundtrack of popular songs of the 1960s. Hot on the heels of the film’s box-office success, in December of that year the brothers released Vacanze di Natale , a holiday comedy which outdid the box-office achievement of the earlier film and effectively marked the birth of the generic formula which hostile film critics would, with pejorative intent, label cinepanettone .

For the next 35 years Carlo and his brother continued to turn out, often at the rate of two, sometimes three, films a year, a host of what film critics regularly criticised as repetitive and superficial comedies but which, in a time of falling cinema attendance, always managed to attract a younger audience. The cinepanettoni in particular, cleverly both set in and released during the Christmas period, proved uniquely successful in drawing entire families back into the cinemas in what became for many a ritual occasion. There were occasional forays into other genres, as in their reasonable attempts at the giallo in films such as Sotto il vestito niente (1985) and Squillo (1996) and a number of clear commercial misses: their perhaps foolhardy attempt in 2005 to revive the legendary character of Er Monnezza , made famous by Thomas Milian in several of the more memorable polizieschi of the 1970s, was decidedly unsuccessful and shunned by even their more rusted-on fans. But the Vanzina hallmark was always a cinema of fun and entertainment and, although decried by the critics as mere panem et circenses , represented, as even the critics themselves were eventually forced to admit, a genuinely popular cinema. It’s undeniable that the self-indulgence and the crass behaviour of the stereotypical characters, especially in some of the earlier films, often appear to reflect back on the quality of the films themselves. By the same token, even if presented without the censure which would have occurred in the cinema impegnato , the lamentable behaviour of Italians going through the various phases of Berlusconization was put on show in these films, so much so that the report of Vanzina’s death has regularly appeared in the Italian press under the byline, “ha raccontato l’Italia”.

‘An Eye on Italy’: analysing Italian visual culture

Mon, 02 Jul 2018 17:47:00 GMT

A selection of papers from a conference in Adelaide in late 2016, An Eye on Italy: Continuities and transformations in Italian visual culture, has just been published in the online journal FULGOR (vol.5, no.3, June 2018). As the editors (Luciana d’Arcangeli, Sally Hill and Claire Kennedy) note, the theme of violence recurs in most of […]

Monash ACIS Postdoctoral Fellowship

Thu, 14 Jun 2018 10:13:00 GMT

ACIS and Monash University have established a two-year Postdoctoral Fellowship in the University’s School of Languages, Literatures, Cultures and Linguistics, to be held at the Monash Prato Centre, for which applications are now invited. Candidates must have been awarded a PhD from an Australian or New Zealand university after 1 January 2012 in any area […]

Migrants and asylum seekers in Italy

Tue, 05 Jun 2018 12:54:00 GMT

Was Italy the desired destination in the minds of migrants and asylum seekers who are now settled there? What image, if any, of Europe did they have before they arrived? What picture do migrants from many different places have of the smugglers who help them move? Are Facebook and social media important channels of communication […]

Conversazione con Donatella Di Pietrantonio

Fri, 01 Jun 2018 10:19:00 GMT

1) Il Suo primo approccio alla scrittura è avvenuto attraverso i racconti, anche per bambini. Il successo è arrivato con Mia madre è un fiume che tratta argomenti quali l’Alzheimer, la memoria culturale e il rapporto madre e figlia. Quali sono le caratteristiche stilistiche del Suo precedente lavoro che l’hanno aiutata nella stesura di questo romanzo?

DDP: I racconti per bambini non sono esattamente precedenti a Mia madre è un fiume , li ho scritti in un periodo molto limitato e preciso che corrisponde all’infanzia di mio figlio. Io ho iniziato a scrivere da bambina, i miei primi tentativi sono state poesie in rima e poi racconti. I racconti per bambini, -si tratta di vere e proprie fiabe-, sono state una forma narrativa a sé stante, ma l’immaginario dell’infanzia mi appartiene anche in quanto adulta. Il tipo di metafore che rimandano alla natura (mia madre è un fiume, mia madre è un albero, mia madre è una viola, ecc.), possono magari rinviare ad una vita infantile che io non ho perso da adulta.

2) All’origine della storia di Mia madre è un fiume c’è un dolore (o una serie di dolori), quello della figlia che deve fare i conti con la sua relazione con una madre anaffettiva che ha bisogno di lei, e quello della malattia. Nonostante il dolore, non c’è disperazione: il racconto è la razionalizzazione del dolore. Stilisticamente e strutturalmente tutto è molto misurato. Cosa può dire di questa ricerca di misura che forse è un tratto distintivo della Sua scrittura?

DDP: Sì, in quel libro la scommessa è un po’ trovare un equilibrio tra una parte di dialogo tra io narrante figlia – tu narrato madre, e una parte invece più introspettiva in cui la figlia va a lavorare magari sui contenuti, ma in un dialogo solitario con se stessa. Naturalmente queste sono anche le parti più crude, più sincere in cui la figlia non usa filtri, perché non ha il problema di dover proteggere la madre da contenuti dolorosi. Quindi c’è questa alternanza tra le due modalità. Sono tratti caratteristici solo del primo romanzo.

3) Il romanzo ha dei tratti autobiografici, non solo per l’ambientazione geografica. Può spiegare la relazione tra le scelte stilistiche e lo scrivere di elementi autobiografici sensibili.

DDP: Io mi sono affidata ad una specie di flusso interiore. Tra l’altro quello è stato il mio romanzo d’esordio, e non c’è stato uno studio preliminare sulla forma da dare. Mi sono messa semplicemente in ascolto di un flusso interno, ed ho riportato questa voce che mi sgorgava da dentro. Poi naturalmente c’è stato un lavoro di limatura, ma quello che voglio dire è che quella di Mia madre è un fiume non è stata una forma particolarmente studiata.

4) In Mia madre è un fiume si parla dell’Alzheimer della madre, ma la difficoltà di ricordare è anche il processo interiore della figlia. Quanto è importante il concetto di memoria per Lei come scrittrice?

DDP: Sì, per me la memoria è molto importante. In quel romanzo non c’è solo la memoria che riporta una storia personale e famigliare, non solo la memoria di questa relazione madre e figlia problematica, vista nel contesto del nucleo famigliare, ma c’è una memoria più larga che va a comprendere un contesto ambientale. Quindi quello che la voce narrante cerca di colmare non è solo personale, che riguarda un personaggio. L’ambiente abruzzese ha conservato fino a pochi decenni fa, elementi anche ancestrali, arcaici, che però ora sono molto dimenticati, superati nella modernizzazione, nella globalizzazione. Volevo fare anche un lavoro su questo e cercare così di dare voce a quella parte lì, alla storia piuttosto recente del territorio che però vedo abbastanza rimossa.

5) In un certo senso il romanzo non finisce. L’ultima frase del romanzo non si conclude con un punto. Perché questa scelta?

DDP: Come scrittrice ho una vera e propria passione per i finali aperti, poi in Mia madre è un fiume l’idea era quella di dare, in un’unica pagina finale, una voce alla madre che nel romanzo vero e proprio non ha mai avuto una voce, tuttalpiù ha avuto un’eco nel racconto della figlia, ma mai una voce propria. L’ultima pagina riporta questa voce in cui si sente anche la malattia.

6) Bella mia ha un’ambientazione molto specifica, l’immediato post-terremoto dell’Aquila, ma c’è anche la storia di un terremoto degli affetti in una famiglia. La devastazione della città è in posizione laterale rispetto alla storia personale della protagonista. Quali sono le motivazioni di questa scelta?

DDP: Penso che nel caso di Bella mia il terremoto sia stato in realtà un ‘pre-testo’, nel senso che è avvenuto prima dell’inizio della narrazione, ed è proprio un pretesto per raccontare la perdita, il dolore, il lutto ma anche la capacità umana di trasformazione del dolore. Una città terremotata come L’Aquila era lo sfondo ideale che mi ha consentito di esplorare il tema della perdita: quella personale dell’io narrante che perde la sorella gemella, quella famigliare – perché è una perdita che lei condivide con sua madre e con suo nipote, in quanto la perdita di Olivia è un lutto centrale che accomuna i membri di questa famiglia anomala (Caterina ha perso la sorella gemella, la madre anziana ha perso la figlia, Marco ha perso la madre), e infine c’è sullo sfondo una visione collettiva della comunità che ha perso anche il luogo, la città.

7) Qual è dunque la funzione della letteratura rispetto ad eventi drammatici quali il terremoto dell’Aquila?

DDP: S ono sempre molto scettica riguardo alla funzione della letteratura. Mi sembrerebbe quasi una presunzione pensare che un libro possa avere una funzione. L’unica funzione che io posso riconoscere nei miei testi è quella di trasferire emozioni ai lettori. Se il provare delle emozioni possa essere utile, sono contenta. Quello di tramettere emozioni è il mio obiettivo. Se questo raggiunge i lettori, sta a loro dirlo.

8) Nel libro non si parla di solidarietà ai terremotati, nonostante a L’Aquila ci siano state diverse espressioni di solidarietà.

DDP: Sicuramente c’è una parte di critica anche non molto velata a quella che è stata la gestione dell’emergenza del terremoto. C’è l’episodio del tappo dello spumante (la protagonista stappa delicatamente la bottiglia di spumante donata dal governo e fatta trovare in ognuna delle casette post-terremoto, e lo versa nel lavandino). C’è anche la passerella dei politici ai funerali. Nella parte in cui si racconta la vita nelle tendopoli, vengono nominate delle forme di solidarietà che sono state, secondo me, soprattutto operazioni mediatiche, come gli chef stellati che venivano a cucinare i pasti nelle tendopoli dell’Aquila, le rock star che venivano a fare i concerti a L’Aquila. Lì c’è una critica esplicita. Per me il solo fatto di riportarle, è una critica esplicita. Il romanzo non voleva portare solidarietà ai terremotati. Credo che aver raccontato il dolore, il lutto, la perdita sia sufficiente per un’opera narrativa.

9) Il romanzo si conclude con la figlia che parla di cose quotidiane e con la descrizione della madre come di una figura provata dalle sofferenze della vita, ma forte. La nuova edizione pubblicata da Einaudi quest’anno, nella quarta di copertina descrive il messaggio del libro come uno di ‘speranza e rinascita’, ma a me sembra che questi due termini siano troppo positivi per comunicare il dolore associato ai protagonisti, che pur continueranno a ricostruire la loro vita. Riesce a trovare un punto di convergenza tra queste due diverse interpretazioni?

DDP: Credo che soprattutto la protagonista e voce narrante paradossalmente riesca a trovare proprio in questa esperienza dolorosa, una strada per individuarsi come essere autonomo rispetto alla sorella gemella. Caterina è sempre stata un po’ all’ombra, sempre un passo indietro rispetto a questa sorella così solare, adeguata e pronta ad affrontare le situazioni. Quindi paradossalmente è proprio nel momento in cui questo forte sostegno le viene a mancare, che lei inizia un percorso personale di crescita, e lì che comincia a cercare dentro di sé delle risorse che nemmeno sospettava di avere. Veramente c’è questa capacità di sostituire un dolore e di trasformarlo.

10) Tutti e tre i romanzi presentano un rapporto, spesso non paritario, tra due donne tra cui avviene uno scambio di saperi e di sentimenti: madre e figlia in Mia madre è un fiume , le due sorelle gemelle in Bella mia e le due sorelle in L’Arminuta . C’è un desiderio consapevole di esprimere l’importanza di una interrelazione tra donne?

DDP: Sì, in genere racconto la maternità, racconto relazioni madre e figlia in cui la madre non è adeguata al suo ruolo. Ma diciamo c’è sempre poi una seconda possibilità data da figure sostitutive femminili che, pur non riuscendo a colmare completamente la mancanza data dal rapporto con la madre, possono comunque in qualche modo riparare quella ferita dovuta proprio ad un materno che non riesce ad essere come dovrebbe, consentivo, curativo, accudente. Queste interrelazioni tra figure femminili vanno sempre in qualche modo a colmare, per quanto possibile, un vuoto pre-esistente.

11) Il libro si apre con una citazione tratta da Menzogna e sortilegio di Elsa Morante. In effetti gli echi di Morante, soprattutto nella ricerca di identità, sono rinvenibili altrove. Ma Lei ha anche parlato del debito di ispirazione ai racconti di un’antica usanza locale, cioè quella di far crescere i figli con parenti o conoscenti, nel momento in cui la famiglia di origine attraversava delle difficoltà. Può parlarci della valenza di queste due suggestioni, quella letteraria e quella della tradizione locale?

DDP: In realtà, come tradizioni letterarie io non le saprei indicare dei modelli consapevoli. Per me l’influenza di modelli letterari agisce in un modo segreto, coperto, nel senso che ci sono stati nella mia vita, dei libri che sicuramente mi hanno cambiata profondamente –e che non sono quelli della Morante- e che sono molto attivi nel momento in cui io scrivo. Ma lo sono appunto nel senso di una memoria inconsapevole di quei tempi. In quanto magari li ho letti molti, molti anni fa, e li ho poi rielaborati all’interno della mia esperienza di vita, e poi riemergono nella scrittura. Sicuramente ci sono nella scrittura dei tempi di quelle letture, ma in una maniera assolutamente coperta. È più facile per me individuare e ricordare le storie orali che io sentivo raccontare durante la mia infanzia. Erano storie appunto di bambini affidati informalmente ad altre famiglie, che mi colpivano moltissimo nonostante fossi bambina. Io ero molto impressionata e quello che mi chiedevo, e in fondo è la domanda che si sente poi in tutto il romanzo, il ruolo genitoriale è veramente di chi ci ha generati, partoriti o chi ci ha cresciuti?

12) Tutti e tre i suoi romanzi sono ambientati in Abruzzo, in zone diverse e in periodi storici diversi. Nel romanzo che le ha conferito maggiore successo, L’Arminuta , la collocazione geografica è meno delineata rispetto agli altri due. Si potrebbe dire che il paesaggio abruzzese rimane più da sfondo, e meno protagonista rispetto agli altri romanzi?

DDP: Sicuramente nell’Arminuta non c’è una toponomastica che ci lasci individuare l’Abruzzo, anche se poi ci sono indizi come la coperta abruzzese, gli arrosticini, che ci rimandano al territorio, ma c’è un elemento che secondo me, è molto più potente degli altri libri, che è il dialetto, che nell’Arminuta va a raccontare il territorio, l’Abruzzo interno.

13) Ha dedicato il suo Campiello all’Abruzzo. Quali sono i significati della Sua dedica?

DDP: È stata una dedica spontanea, emotiva. Avevo vissuto come tutti gli abruzzesi un anno terribile, segnato da catastrofi di ogni genere. Per cui poteva essere semplicemente come ho detto, un omaggio che una figlia poteva riportare alla terra madre, quasi un tentativo, per quanto modesto, umile, di riparazione delle ferite del territorio che lo hanno segnato l’anno scorso.

14) Gli eventi si svolgono in un periodo storico preciso, la metà degli anni ’70. Si tratta di un periodo complesso per la storia dell’Italia, anche se gli echi della Storia non sono apparentemente visibili nel romanzo. Quali sono state le Sue motivazioni per la scelta dell’ambientazione negli anni ’70?

DDP: Ho scelto una protagonista della mia stessa età per essere più accurata. Quindi la protagonista è nata all’inizio degli anni sessanta come me, e negli anni 70, a 13 anni le capita di subire questo trauma, questa espulsione. La motivazione è quella di poter ricostruire più facilmente l’ambientazione storica, nel senso che io do voce ad un ragazzina che ha 13 anni nel 1975 perché ho potuto più facilmente ricordare quali erano gli interessi nel 1975, quando appunto avevo 13 anni.

15) Lo stile de L’Arminuta è molto diverso da quello dei precedenti romanzi. Le molti e sorprendenti metafore dei primi due romanzi lasciano spazio ad uno stile asciutto, una dinamica quasi filmica. Infatti tra gli altri premi, il romanzo ha ricevuto il premio ‘Zanetti: un libro per il cinema’ e sarà presto un film con la regia di Giuseppe Bonito. Ci può parlare di questa diversa scelta stilistica? Si tratta di un libro che ha attraversato diverse stesure per una ricerca di essenzialità?

DDP: L’essenzialità è sicuramente un mio obiettivo formale, ma l’essenzialità è anche la caratteristica della voce di un personaggio che ha subito un trauma fortissimo. Nel momento in cui scrivevo per lei, usavo la sua voce, mi sembrava che lei non potesse avere una sua lingua ridondante, più complessa, più artefatta.

16) L’Arminuta è strutturata su opposizioni: le due madri, il mare e la montagna, la vita borghese della famiglia adottiva e la povertà della famiglia d’origine. Ma si può dire forse che la relazione dell’Arminuta con la sorella Adriana in un certo senso genera una prospettiva al di fuori delle opposizioni? Il legame tra di loro, sviluppatosi attraverso la sofferenza, è l’unico vero rapporto, dopo la delusione di entrambe le famiglie e di entrambe le madri. Abbiamo di nuovo di fronte due figure femminili che resistono alle durezze della vita, e che in questo trasmettono un messaggio molto positivo.

DDP: La relazione tra le sorelle nasce soprattutto, dal punto di vista dell’Arminuta, come un tentativo di conciliare due mondi inconciliabili: quello che l’ha generata e quello che l’ha cresciuta. Questi due mondi corrispondono da un lato alla famiglia biologica e al paese, e dall’altro alla famiglia adottiva, la città, l’ambiente piccolo-borghese in cui trascorre 13 anni di vita. Sono due mondi opposti, ma la scommessa per la sopravvivenza dell’Arminuta è proprio nel trovare una posizione tra questi due mondi in cui lei concilia le energie di entrambi. La trova attraverso questa relazione tra pari, tra sorelle. Adriana è un po’ la figura dell’aiutante, che la introduce nel mondo per lei sconosciuto che l’ha generata.

17) Lei ha sempre considerato il Suo lavoro di scrittrice come un’aggiunta a quello che è il Suo lavoro di dentista. Rimane questa la Sua posizione, anche dopo il successo del suo ultimo libro?

DDP: Diciamo che sto ridefinendo i tempi delle due attività. L’Arminuta mi pone comunque di fronte a delle scelte. Penso di avere anche una responsabilità diversa verso i lettori, per cui sto un po’ ridefinendo i tempi.

Questa intervista risale alla primavera 2018. Donatella Di Pietrantonio ha riletto e corretto la versione finale che le ho mandato.

ACIS Research Group: History and Social Sciences

Tue, 29 May 2018 13:48:00 GMT

The first 3-year plan for the ACIS History and Social Sciences Research Group is available here . As its title, Trade, Textiles and Meaning in Italy: 1400-2018 , suggests, the focus is on the nature and consequences of the high-end textile trade in Italy from the Renaissance onwards. The project begins with a specific object – the portrait of Isabella D’Este (1474-1539) by Titian – and explores the production and meaning of all the items of clothing, seen and not seen, that Isabella is wearing. The exploration is conducted in tandem with the IDEA (Isabella D’Este Archive) website, in relation where possible to the references to clothing and textiles in Isabella’s correspondence. The second part of the project examines similar themes in the contemporary world of ‘Made in Italy’, where many major producers using that descriptor are not Italian. Information on the activities and people involved in the project can be found in the plan and from the Research Group’s convenor, Catherine Kovesi .

Ermanno Olmi (1931 – 2018)

Fri, 11 May 2018 07:17:00 GMT

Subsequent films such as E venne un uomo (A Man Named John, 1965), a respectful biography of Pope John XXIII, met with a mixed critical reception, but Olmi returned to international prominence with what for many will remain his greatest achievement, L’albero degli zoccoli ( The Tree of the Wooden Clogs, 1978). A loving re-creation of poor rural life in the peasant communities of Olmi’s native Bergamo region in the late 1800s, filmed entirely on location and acted solely by non-professionals, the film won the Palme d’or at Cannes and a host of other national and international awards. It was the closest that Italian cinema had come to repeating Luchino Visconti’s ill-fated attempt at absolute cinematic veracity in La terra trema ( The Earth Trembles ) and was fortunately recognised in all its merits, The New York Times calling it “a masterpiece” and The Village Voice deeming it “a cinematic miracle”.

In 1982, with the help of the enlightened manager of RAI’s first channel, Paolo Valmarana, Olmi founded an alternative film school at Bassano del Grappa. Called Ipotesi Cinema, it was structured more as a communal hands-on cooperative than a traditional school and had the explicit aim of helping younger directors successfully make and screen their first films. Among the alumni of the school and now successful filmmakers were Francesca Archibugi, Maurizio Zaccaro and Roberta Torre. After Camminacammina ( Keep Walking, 1983), a genial retelling of the biblical story of the Magi set in rural Lombardy on which he somehow managed to successfully cover all the roles of director, screenwriter, cinematographer, editor and costume and stage design, Olmi retired from filmmaking due to serious illness. He returned in 1987 with Lunga vita alla Signora! ( Long Live the Lady! 1987), a merciless look at the sclerotic stultification of upper-middle-class rituals, seen through the eyes of a young boy training in the hospitality industry. The film’s success at Venice (Silver Lion, 1987) was repeated a year later when La leggenda del santo bevitore ( The Legend of the Holy Drinker, 1988), a contemporary adaptation of an early 20th-century novel by Joseph Roth, received the Golden Lion. By contrast, ll Segreto del bosco vecchio ( The Secret of the Old Wood, 1993), an animistic fable adapted from a novel by Dino Buzzati, divided critics for its open ecological didacticism and for a style that was pejoratively characterized, in the words of an Anglosaxon critic, as “Bambi meets National Geographic.”

However, after extensive work with RAI television, for which he produced Genesi ( Genesis, the Creation and the Flood, 1994), an epic retelling of the first seven books of the Bible, Olmi returned to the large screen with the austere but visually stunning Il mestiere delle armi ( The Profession of Arms, 2001). A chronicle of the final days of the legendary Renaissance military leader Giovanni delle Bande Nere, the film documents with extreme dignity his slow and painful death provoked ignominiously by the newly invented firearm. The implicit antiwar message of Il mestiere was echoed in the charming Cantando dietro i paraventi ( Singing behind Screens, 2003), a fablelike and highly theatrical adaptation of a 19th-century Chinese poem in which Madame Ching, the wife of a treacherously murdered admiral, comes to lead a band of pirates to avenge her husband’s death but eventually, with victory assured, offers her enemies peace rather than death. For Olmi, ever the champion of a compassionate humanism, such a pacifist gesture is the only possible response to what has become the ongoing age of terror in the early 21st century.

After a passionate denunciation of inflexible religious orthodoxy in Centochiodi ( HundredNails , 2007) and a number of other documentaries, including one celebrating the enchanting wine region of the Valtellina and a feature-length contribution to The Slow Food movement (titled appropriately enough, Terra madre ), in 2014 he returned to once more express his pacifism on the big screen with Torneranno i prati ( The Meadows Shall Return ), a lacerating condemnation of the senseless slaughter of the First World War, filmed in the same area and in the same poetic style as his early documentaries. Then, after a decade of continuing to make films in spite of a declared intention to retire from filmmaking, in 2017 he rounded off his career with a full-length documentary on his friend and religious confidante, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini.

ACIS – Save Venice Fellowship 2018

Fri, 27 Apr 2018 09:43:00 GMT

ACIS is very pleased to announce that Dr Angelo Lo Conte has been awarded the inaugural ACIS – Save Venice Fellowship . He will spend 3 months in Venice in the second half of 2018 to work at the Biblioteca Marciana, the Fondazione Giorgio Cini and the Galleria dell’Accademia on the extensive literature about, and drawings of, three artists originally from Bologna: the brothers Camillo (b.1564), Carlo Antonio (b.1571) and Giulio Cesare (b.1574) Procaccini. Both the stylistic and commercial aspects of the family bottega established in Milan in the late 1580s played a significant role, artistic and practical, in the transition from Mannerism to the Baroque. The project will define and illustrate the ways in which the Procaccini were the most important family of painters working in northern Italy in the first part of the 17th century.

Vale Vittorio Taviani (1929-2018)

Thu, 19 Apr 2018 12:04:00 GMT

They were soon making short films and documentaries and in 1954, together with Valentino Orsini, a friend and ex-partisan also passionately interested in filmmaking, they produced their first significant documentary, San Miniato luglio 1944 . The film portrayed a massacre in the Taviani’s native town carried out by retreating Germans in the latter part of the war, an event that they would revisit in greater scope in what many consider one of the greatest of their later films, La notte di San Lorenzo ( The Night of the Shooting Stars , 1982). Still serving their apprenticeship, however, they then collaborated with legendary Dutch documentarist, Joris Ivens, to make L’Italia non è un paese povero ( Italy Is Not A Poor Country, 1960) for national television, before, again together with Orsini, finally directing their first feature film, Un uomo da bruciare ( A Man To Be Burned , 1962). Recounting the tragic story of Salvatore Carnevale, a militant Sicilian union organiser murdered by the mafia for daring to challenge its power and authority, the film was also the Taviani’s first and very fruitful encounter with one of the great actors of the Italian screen, Gian Maria Volonté.

As Italy moved almost inexorably towards the explosion of 1968, the Taviani caught the social and political ferment of the times in their films: I fuorilegge del matrimonio ( Outlaws of Love , 1963), dramatised the issues surrounding the continuing absence of divorce in Italy; I sovversivi ( The Subversives , 1967), the existential loss of direction felt by leftist militants at the death of historic PCI leader, Palmiro Togliatti. Made as 1968 erupted in all its fury, the dark and violent political allegory in Sotto il segno dello scorpione ( Under the Sign of Scorpio , 1969), again starring Gian Maria Volonté, confounded the critics when it was shown at the Venice Film Festival but confirmed the Taviani’s status as politically-committed filmmakers. As the anni di piombo began to cast their pall over an ever more divided nation, the brothers continued to explore the tension between revolutionary aspirations to a political utopia and its practical unachievability in San Michele aveva un gallo ( Saint Michael Had A Rooster , 1971) and the operatic Allonsanfan (1973), both set in the context of failed revolutionary movements of the 19th century. However it was the more contemporary and more personal struggle for freedom recounted in Padre padrone ( My Father My Master , 1977) that would finally bring the brothers international recognition. The film won both the FIPRESCI prize and the Palme d’or at Cannes where, significantly, it was championed by no less a figure than Roberto Rossellini as head of the jury, thereby enacting something of a closing of the circle that had been opened with the brothers’ first viewing of Paisà .

The 1980s, much lamented by critics as the years of the great crisis and near-death of postwar Italian cinema, saw the Taviani make several of their greatest films. In La notte di San Lorenzo they were able to revisit the massacre at San Miniato but now as an epic and poetic fable recounted by a mother to her infant daughter at bedtime. A work of stunning visual beauty, complemented by a stirring musical score by Nicola Piovani , the film received six David di Donatello awards and two Nastri d’argento in Italy and both the Ecumenical and the Grand Jury Prize at Cannes, where it had also been nominated for the Palme d’or. This tour de force of filmmaking was followed by the equally impressive Kaos ( Chaos, 1984), a masterful retelling of four stories by Luigi Pirandello in the Tavianis’ now characteristic poetic style. Three years later, Good morning Babilonia ( Good Morning, Babylon, 1987), the invented story of two Italian brothers trained as art restorers who are called to work on the set of D. W. Griffith’s Intolerance (1916), was in essence the Taviani brothers’ heartfelt hymn to the art of cinema.

While not abandoning political themes altogether, in the 1990s the brothers largely concentrated their efforts on literary adaptations, providing elegant transcriptions of novels by Leo Tolstoy in Il sole anche di notte ( Night Sun, 1990), Anna Karenina (2000), and Resurrezione ( Resurrection, 2002), and by Johann Wolfgang Goethe in Le affinità elettive ( The Elective Affinities, 1996). In the new millennium they were again able to marry politics and literature in La masseria delle allodole ( The Lark Farm , 2007), the adaptation of a prize-winning novel by Armenian-Italian writer, Antonia Arslan, recounting the tribulations of two extended families during the Armenian genocide of the First World War. This was followed by Cesare deve morire ( Caesar Must Die , 2012), the engrossing documentation of preparations for a public performance of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar by inmates of Rome’s highest-security prison and Meraviglioso Boccaccio ( Wondrous Boccaccio , 2014), an elegant revisitation of the Decameron but at heart a love letter by the Taviani to their native Tuscany.

Their most recent film – one that they confessed to have long aspired to make – was Una questione privata ( Rainbow: A Private Affair , 2017), an adaptation of Beppe Fenoglio’s semi-autobiographical wartime novel about a partisan in the Resistance movement torn by the contrasting demands between the personal and the political. Vittorio, still recovering from an accident he had suffered in 2016, had been forced to forgo being on set in northern Italy during the actual filming, making this the first time in sixty years that the brothers had not physically directed a film together. However, at the film’s release six months ago, both brothers were adamant in asserting that Vittorio had been able to make his usual input and the film, as always, had been a joint creation. Unfortunately Vittorio’s physical absence from the set had been a presage. Italian cinema has lost another of its greats.

Hidden Lives: Australia’s Italians 1939-45

Thu, 12 Apr 2018 14:15:00 GMT

A dark chapter in Australia’s wartime history has often been minimised or overlooked in mainstream accounts. Hidden Lives: War, Internment and Australia’s Italians (2018), edited by Mia Spizzica, contains scholarly essays and testimonials which offer new insights into the experiences of Italian Australians during World War 2. It is the first such compilation by authors […]

Nella nebbia di Milano: uno studio ciclo-etnografico – Note del 09/03/2018

Fri, 09 Mar 2018 08:53:00 GMT

Lì per lì mi è sembrato un po’ esoso. Ma poi, ricordandomi di essere precaria anch’io, ho prontamente aderito allo sciopero. È proprio il caso di dirlo, l’unione fa la forza: dopo aver un po’ tergiversato, il comitato ha esaudito la nostra richiesta di aumento dei fondi. Credo soprattutto per non fare la figura dei pezzenti con i colleghi milanesiani, il cui arcipelago è situato in uno Stato noto per la bassissima spesa pubblica per l’università. Insomma i nostri finanziatori non volevano fare la figura di essere ancora più sotto-finanziati dei nostri nativi, per preservare la gerarchia postcoloniale. Peccato che alla fine ho dovuto cedere sull’ottenimento di questi fondi extra solo dopo la consegna del sopra citato primo report, mentre al contrario l’assistente ha immediatamente messo fine alla solidarietà sindacale pretendendo da subito un aumento della razione di cibo giornaliera. L’ingordo!

Ad ogni modo bisogna dire che ora che mangia meglio, il ragazzo è molto più efficiente. Mi sta aiutando a raccogliere una serie di fotografie di biciclette milanesiane che hanno lo scopo di documentare una intuizione molto promettente emersa dalle mie prime osservazioni sul campo: il ruolo della bicicletta come artefatto che ha innanzitutto una funzione estetico-simbolica per così dire “statica”, prima ancora che essere un mezzo per il trasporto e l’attività sportiva. Questo aspetto della cultura milanesiana sembra essere stato in gran parte ignorato dagli studiosi, ma è un’interpretazione ampiamente suffragata dal grande numero di biciclette esibite nelle vetrine, alle pareti di bar e ristoranti, in mostre e musei; numero forse addirittura maggiore di quelle circolanti nelle strade.

La mia prima ricognizione evidenzia una tale pluralità di contesti in cui le biciclette sono esposte come oggetti di ammirazione e culto che un’interpretazione sufficientemente approfondita dei multiformi significati simbolici della bicicletta appare un compito quanto mai arduo. Questa prima esplorazione ha per il momento evidenziato tre aspetti rituali principali dell’ostensione ciclistica:

Iris Origo remembered

Mon, 12 Feb 2018 09:41:00 GMT

In the latest issue (8 February 2018) of the London Review of Books there’s a long review of Iris Origo’s The Merchant of Prato. Daily Life in a Medieval Italian City, first published in English in 1957, translated into Italian with an introduction by Luigi Einaudi in 1958 and now republished in English as a […]

A Racist Brooch? The Venetian origins of a royal jewel

Thu, 04 Jan 2018 14:13:00 GMT

Moretti do, however, obviously profit from a depiction of an idealized middle eastern prince as the exoticised ‘other’ and in this vein form part of the long tradition of ‘orientalism’ in the west; a figure of no place and every place at one and the same time, fulfilling Western fantasies

Regardless of one’s views of the Nardi moretto, why one of his brooches should cause such a stir when worn to a private lunch in December 2017 is a little puzzling. Gioelleria Nardi participated in the Venice Luxus Pavilion in this year’s Venice Biennale, with examples of the moretto on prominent display as soon as visitors entered the pavilion. Yet, of the 615,000 visitors to the Venice Biennale this year, not one made a comment about the supposed racism of such a display. And indeed Alberto Nardi told me that not one person has ever entered his shop, in the many years in which he has been its proprietor, to say that his jewellery has caused them offence. Quite the contrary. Several years ago Whoopi Goldberg bought a Nardi moretto brooch as a sign of ‘black pride’.

Whilst consumption and sartorial display always carry signs and codes, with the potency of these signs in direct proportion to the power and status of those displaying them, we need to be aware of the broader and more complex histories contained within a singular item of jewelery before jumping to conclusions about its signification. In the sartorial signs of recent days in Britain, more troubling perhaps is the vision of a woman wearing a Ralph & Russo dress costing a reputed 65,000 euros (£56,000) in her official engagement photos designed for wide dissemination – a price almost double that of average annual salaries in the UK. Instead the international press has rushed to condemn a small piece of jewelry with a complex, subtle, and indeed beautiful, history worn by an established royal individual to a private family event who now, rather sadly, feels she can never wear it again.

ACIS Postgraduate Scholarships for Research in Italy, 2018

Wed, 13 Dec 2017 21:55:00 GMT

ACIS is very pleased to congratulate the winners of the ACIS Cassamarca scholarships for postgraduate research in Italy in 2018: Darius Sepehri ( PhD, University of Sydney ), “Reading the Renaissance anew: Giovanni Pico della Mirandola and his Islamic sources” ; Lana Stephens ( MA, Monash University ), “ Theologia ficinianum : intellectual exchange and spiritual renewal in Late Quattrocento Florence ”; and, as winner of the 2018 Dino De Poli Scholarship , Madeleine Regan (PhD, Flinders University) , “Archival research and transnational resources for establishing family market gardens and transplanting Veneto community in the western suburbs of Adelaide, 1920s–1970s” .

New research on Italian L2 learning

Thu, 07 Dec 2017 10:04:00 GMT

Marinella Caruso writes ...

The validity of the quizzes as a means for formative and summative assessment was subjected to systematic analysis via an online student survey. The results support the researchers’ conclusions that the online materials offered students engaging, flexible listening comprehension practice and that “listening practice and assessment can effectively be moved out of the classroom and into the digital space, provided is it grounded in sound pedagogical choices”. For further details see the article in JUTLP referenced above.

Dal guntiino al jilbab: come spiegare un cambio d’abito?

Tue, 07 Nov 2017 17:45:00 GMT

Kaha Mohamed Aden, nata a Mogadiscio, dal 1987 residente a Pavia. Laureata in Economia presso l’Università di Pavia, consegue un Master in Cooperazione allo Sviluppo nella Scuola Universitaria Superiore di Pavia (IUSS). Ha lavorato presso il VIS (Volontariato Internazionale per lo Sviluppo). Nel 2001 scrive “I sogni delle extrasignore e le loro padrone” per il libro La Serva Serve: le nuove forzate del lavoro domestico di Cristina Morini (Derive/Approdi). Nel dicembre 2002 viene insignita del premio San Siro del Comune di Pavia per la sua attività nel campo della mediazione interculturale.

Nel 2010 ha pubblicato Fra-intendimenti (Roma, Nottetempo). Ha scritto per diverse riviste: «Nuovi Argomenti N° 27 (2004); », « Psiche, numero 1 (2008); », «Africa e Mediterraneo- n.1/17 (86)». Ha realizzato diverse performance tra cui La Quarta Via da cui è stato tratto un omonimo documentario.

Nel 2016 è invitata dall’ACIS, Australasian Centre for Italian Studies, a tenere un ciclo di conferenze: nell’occasione è stata nominata Visiting HRA – Honorary Research Associate.

Interregional encounters in Italy

Thu, 26 Oct 2017 08:05:00 GMT

Many variables were considered, including the interlocutors’ ages, the regularity of contact and the restaurants’ level of sophistication, but the primary focus of the study was on regional variation. Whilst the quantitative part of the investigation provided some indications as to which forms are more popular in which regions, it is in the qualitative analysis that the most interesting results emerged in terms of interregional encounters. In their comments, speakers reported on the differences they noticed when they went to restaurants in other regions. Participants who relocated within the country, as well as those who regularly visit other regions, had a clear perception of how address practices vary across regions. Many referred to the macro regions of north, centre and south.

So what are some of the key findings of this study? Firstly, waiters in Rome are more likely to address customers with tu than in other regions. From the waiters’ point of view, this practice was explained in terms of rapport building, as a way of creating a friendly atmosphere of complicità . From the customers’ perspective, this Roman practice seems to have mixed effects, with some Salentine customers appreciating the confidenza and the practicality of informal service, and some Sardinian customers feeling intruded upon by waiters’ unsolicited overfamiliarity.

Another finding involves Emilia, where many speakers prefer to be addressed with tu even if they are well into adulthood. One Emilian waiter in his 50s, for instance, reported feeling sad when addressed with lei by a visiting Calabrian customer, while another waiter reported that some regular customers aged 70 or above insist on being addressed with tu in his restaurant. The preference for tu in Emilia can be linked to a wish to project a youthful image of the self, typical of modern Western societies, but some participants also commented on the egalitarian and liberating effect of using tu with anyone.

Further findings confirm the complexity of singular voi , i.e. the use of the plural form voi to address one person. Singular voi is reported to be very common in some southern regions of Italy, such as Campania and Calabria (Orlando, 2015), but is mostly considered old fashioned or bureaucratic elsewhere (e.g. Serianni & Castelvecchi, 2006). A Neapolitan pizza maker, who grew up in a geographical area where the use of singular voi is predominant in service encounters (Timm, 2001), opened a pizzeria in Emilia and reported never using singular voi with his customers. It seems that voi was lost in migration in that case. In another case, a Salentine participant thought that voi was used mainly to address the elderly, since that was the use she was exposed to in her geographical area. When she moved to Naples as a young adult, she was surprised when waiters addressed her with voi in the local pizzeria. To her, it was like being called old, but, in fact, it was a matter of different regional practices coming together in an interregional encounter.

Lastly, many comments refer to the complex topic of dissimilarities and mutual perceptions between northern and southern Italy. Some participants report noticing a difference between a modern trend of informality (more tu ) in the north compared to a more traditional and reverential (more lei or voi ) style in the south. Other participants report the opposite: a more formal and distant north (more lei ) compared to a friendly and relaxed south (more tu ).

In summary, this study shows how the same language practices may be perceived differently in the various regions of Italy. In Italian interregional encounters, speakers moving to other regions find themselves in different communities of practice (Eckert, 2006), with specific language practices and cultural values associated with these. It is no wonder, then, if surprise, misunderstandings and subsequent adjustment can be the result in a country of such regional diversity as Italy.

References

D’Achille, P. (2002). L’italiano regionale. In M. Cortelazzo (Ed.), I dialetti italiani: storia, struttura, uso (pp. 26-42). Turin: UTET.

Eckert, P. (2006). Communities of practice. In K. Brown (Ed.), Encyclopedia of language and linguistics (pp. 683-685). Amsterdam: Elsevier.

Orlando, A. M. (2015). Permettete una parola, Signora? Il voi allocutivo nell’italiano regionale di Calabria tra rispetto e identità. In F. Fanciullo (Ed.), L’Italia dialettale. Rivista di dialettologia italiana (Vol. 76) (pp. 149-162). Pisa: Edizioni ETS.

Serianni, L., & Castelvecchi, A. (2006). Grammatica italiana: italiano comune e lingua letteraria . Turin: UTET.

Timm, C. (2001). Das dreigliedrige Allokutionssystem des Italienischen in Neapel . Frankfurt/M: Peter Lang.

Silvio Berlusconi 2017 - an ABC interview with Emma Barron

Wed, 11 Oct 2017 08:22:00 GMT

Emma Barron ACIS In Italy political careers have a way of enduring well into old age. When politicians of other countries are collecting their pensions and writing their memoirs, many Italian politicians still serve into their 80s, or, as in the case of the previous President of Italy, Giorgio Napolitano, even their 90s. Silvio Berlusconi […]

Massacre? What Massacre? Anglo-American Responses to Monte Sole, Sept 29 – Oct 5 1944

Mon, 02 Oct 2017 08:12:00 GMT

On 17 September in an article published in Il Resto del Carlino , Kesselring issued ‘a last warning’ to the people of Italy’s north, making it clear that those who assisted the partisans would be treated ‘in the most severe manner … the people who help the partisans will be hanged in the public square’. [2] It was widely believed among among the German soldiery that the Italian peasants were indistinguishable from the partisans they were believed to be sustaining. The surest way of eradicating the ‘bandits’ was to eradicate the sources of their supplies and support, and the only way to do that was to wipe out everybody. Hence, over that long weekend beginning on Friday 29 September 1944, at more than 115 separate sites scattered across the massif, isolated farmhouses, barns, hamlets, schools, churches, cemeteries, fields and footpaths, more than 770 people were massacred, most guilty of no greater crime than being in the wrong place at the worst possible time. The dead included 316 women, 216 children and 142 men and women over the age of 60. Given that so few escaped the massacre it is little wonder that news of the events in the relatively isolated area took time to circulate. More importantly, most of the Monte Sole massif did not fall to the allies until April 1945. The Italian winter of 1944 was infamously wet and cold and when the bad weather took hold the allies remained where they were, just short of Monte Sole, where they remained until the spring offensive of April 1945. Only then did the scale of the massacre become clear.

But how is it that this extraordinary event is so little known and so scantily written about in English? Jack Olsen’s Silence on Monte Sole (1968) is the only book-length English-language text to treat the massacre in any depth. A detailed account of events, drawn from a range of sources, it is as much a re-enactment as a recapitulation, replete with invented eyewitness testimony and imagined speech. Before Olsen, the massacre seems not to have featured at all in English language soldier memoirs from the war and, until recently, most notably in James Holland’s 2008 history, Italy’s Sorrow , it earned only limited mention in the histories of the Italian campaign. Richard Lamb’s War in Italy 1943-1945 (1993), reputedly ‘the first full scale account of the war in Italy from the landings at Sicily to the end of the war’ dedicated no more than half a page to the events, and that inaccurately. [3] This merely reinforces how little the events on Monte Sole, even a basic grasp of their location and toll, had penetrated the English-speaking world even by the mid-1990s. How, and why, was this the case? I’d like to propose five responses to this question.

First: Just as the war in Italy was peripheral to the allies’ strategy for the defeat of Nazi Germany, so it was of marginal interest to the public. Ernie Pyle covered the advance of Mark Clark’s Fifth Army from Sicily to the landings at Anzio, and Alan Moorehead followed the British through Sicily and the Americans into Naples: ‘Everyone knew now that there was to be another major landing up the coast [at Anzio], but everyone also knew that whatever happened, the war wasn’t going to be decided in Italy. Moorehead didn’t want to get stuck in a side-show, much less killed covering one.’ [4] In January 1944 he was recalled to Britain to report on the preparations for the cross-channel invasion and the opening of the Second Front.

If Italy itself became a sideshow well before the fall of Rome on 4 June 1944, the campaigns in the north of the country were further obscured by the launch of Operation Overlord and the slow but certain rollback of the German Army in western France. Rick Atkinson’s Pulitzer Prize-winning three-volume history of the war in Europe, The Day of Battle , published between 2002 and 2013, dedicates its second volume to the war in Sicily and Italy. The final page of this book, p.576, has General Mark Clark being woken in Rome early on 6 June 1944 by an aide who informs him that the landings at Normandy were under way. The book concludes with the British Commander, General Alexander ordering ‘the Fifth and Eighth Armies to make all possible speed for Pisa and Florence, respectively.’ [5] And that’s it. The rest of Italy just liberated itself and it’s as if the massacres in the north of the country through the spring and summer of 1944 never happened. If Pisa and Florence were lost in the mists, what hope for Monte Sole?

By the time the Fifth and Eighth Armies finally overwhelmed German resistance at the second Gothic Line in April 1945 and raced towards Bologna and the Po Valley, the war’s centres of gravity had decisively shifted to Germany itself. Consequently, news of the allies’ breakthrough in northern Italy, and what they found in the newly liberated areas, was swallowed up in the larger story of German collapse.

Second: The bloody fighting on all fronts hints at another reason why the Monte Sole massacre attracted such little attention beyond Italy at the time. As Paul Fussell has noted, the progress of the fighting in the Second World War was marked by ‘[t]he inexorable progress from light to heavy duty … early ideas of finesse, accuracy, and subtlety had yielded to the demands of getting the job over at any cost. If early on the soldiers had spent many tedious hours practicing “marksmanship,” by the end it was clear that precision would never win the war – only intensification would.’ [6] From January to May 1945 the US military alone suffered more than 44,000 combat deaths in its European and Mediterranean theatres and 18,000 more in the Pacific. [7] Over the same period, according to German historian Rüdiger Overmans, during the final battles in Germany on both Eastern and Western Fronts, the German Army suffered an estimated 1.2 million dead. [8] In the context of such mass casualties and the total war that brought them, it is perhaps not surprising that the extermination of a hilltop community of Italian peasants in Emilia Romagna passed without a mention in the British or US press. The subtle shadings of loyalty, guilt and innocence inherent in the massacre and so integral to its tragedy were washed over by the oceans of blood being spilt further north.

Third: In the years after the war various British veterans of the Italian campaigns returned to Italy in print to reflect on their experiences during the war. Yet not nearly as many wrote about their Italian experiences as did those who had fought in Western Europe or North Africa. This can be accounted for, in part, by a continuing though unwarranted suspicion that their experiences were somehow less significant, or less archetypal, than those who fought their way from the Channel ports to Germany. Viscountess Astor’s putative description of the soldiers fighting in Italy as ‘D-Day Dodgers’ – an accusation she always denied and for which there is no verification – touched a sore point among soldiers who felt that their sacrifices were underappreciated and their achievements undervalued.

Yet one aspect of the D-Day Dodgers narrative remained a sore point that might further explain why memoirists were reluctant to return to the battles and why Italy’s civilian massacres remain so little known of or understood in Britain – that of the exceptional numbers of men who deserted from the fighting in Italy. John Peaty notes that ‘The incidence of desertion … was not spread evenly throughout the war, throughout the theatres or throughout the arms. If that had been the case then the problem would have been manageable. Unfortunately desertion and AWOL principally affected the infantry and were at one of their peaks in Italy in the autumn and winter of 1944.’ [9] The scale of the desertion is perhaps not well appreciated. From mid-1943 the British Army suffered around 40,000 reported cases of desertion. According to Eric Morris, 80 per cent of these desertions were from infantry companies and 70 per cent of them took place in Italy during the final winter of the war. [10] While Italian civilians were being lined up and shot, unprecedented numbers of British soldiers were taking to their heels – driven to desperate measures by the endless grind of combat and the seeming inevitability of severe injury or death. Little wonder, then, that so few were keen to return to such a conflicted space.

Fourth: The memoirs that the veterans produced fall into two broad camps – the works of the soldiers in the line and those of the former PoWs, released from captivity after the announcement of the Italian surrender on 8 September 1943. Those who reflected on their experiences in the line are notable for their fleeting, formulaic representation of the Italians. Alex Bowlby’s otherwise sensitive, account of his time as a rifleman in Italy scarcely seems to notice the people that he and his fellow soldiers pass among. When he does it is in conformity with long established forms. There’s a lot of screaming and ‘Mamma mia!-ing’ from the ladies and great amusement at the exuberance of Italian menfolk – all that kissing and hugging that made a particular class of Englishman so nervous.

Driven to rely almost entirely on the locals for shelter, provisions and comfort, it is little surprise that the former PoWs take a more sympathetic interest in the people who protect and provide for them, their society and their cultures. Eric Newby’s Love and War in the Apennines (1971) celebrates the courage, generosity, decency and humour of the ordinary Italians who risked death to shelter, supply and help him on his way. Yet even while he is embraced by the locals, and warmed by their humanity, he never loses the capacity to stand apart and scan his physical, social and cultural surroundings with the appraising eye of the sympathetic anthropologist. How do the peasants till the fields – how old are the techniques and tools they employ; what are the houses made of, how are they shaped and what do you find in their principal rooms; what do people eat, what do people wear, how do they manage familial relations and how and with whom do they socialise? What emerges is a rich, account of the last days of a disappearing way of life, of a hardy, healthy, isolated community, about to be swept into the mainstream of post-war consumer culture by new means of transport and communication. Newby’s book is as much an elegy for a culture as it is an account of his own desperate efforts to avoid capture and ensure that the people who protected him suffered no repercussions. In this and other narratives like it the Italians increasingly assume a representative, symbolic status that downplays their individual humanity. It’s a lot harder to feel sorry for a symbol.

Fifth: There is another, darker, explanation for why British writers paid such little attention to the Monte Sole massacre, and others like it, for so long. A conviction that, put brutally, the victims had it coming to them.

The liberation of Italy was, in moral rather than military terms, an infinitely more complex operation than the liberation of the countries of Western Europe. While France, Belgium and the Netherlands certainly harboured large numbers of collaborators at all levels of society, the allied armies and their publics were clear that the bulk of these populations were unwontedly toiling under fascism. In Italy, however, the case was perceived to be different. Its armed forces fought with the Nazis from the deserts of North Africa to the Russian steppes. Italy was clearly the enemy – and so, the thinking went, were its people. Mussolini’s long rule, whatever the level of public support for it, convinced the allied armies and their publics that the Italian people were hardly less culpable than their German or Japanese counterparts. Norman Lewis recalls a Psychological Warfare Bureau report from 1943, distributed to British commanders and Intelligence Officers, that claimed ’96 per cent of the Italian population collaborated wholeheartedly with the Germans.’ [11] Lewis rightly noted that the report exaggerated the level of collaboration, but the damage was done and in the eyes of the British Army the Italian people were fatally tainted by Fascism.

As such, the liberation of Italy was a bittersweet affair. Entering Naples in October 1943 Norman Lewis reflected: ‘People stood in their doorways, faces the colour of pumice, to wave mechanically to the victors, the apathetic Fascist salute of last week having been converted to the apathetic V-sign of today.’ [12]

For British and American audiences in the years after the war, basking in the reflected glory of the part they played in the century’s great moral crusade, the ethical topography of the Monte Sole massacre was too shaded, too complex to fully comprehend or engage with. This was not the liberation archetype from the Netherlands or France – the freeing from captivity of a clearly oppressed people. In this context, moral complexity makes empathy a trickier proposition. Western publics, secure in their moral righteousness, preoccupied with rationing or – once freed from it – with the pursuit of plenty, had neither access to the basic facts about what happened on that dreadful autumn weekend on Monte Sole, nor an understanding of the complex moral and political landscape within which the liberation of the northern Apennines occurred. Accordingly they were unwilling to extend to the victims or the survivors the common human sympathy that their awful experiences demanded. It was all too far away, too hard, and too dreadful to contemplate. Then, as now, that’s too bad for the survivors, the victims and their families. It’s high time something was done about it.

[1] See Kerstin von Lingen, Kesselring’s Last Battle: War Crimes and Cold War Politics , Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1971), pp. 43-44.

[2] Jack Olsen, Silence on Monte Sole , New York: Ibooks, 1968, p.145.

[3] Google Books, https://books.google.com.au/books/about/War_in_Italy_1943_1945.html?id=RCPIbwAACAAJ&redir_esc=y Accessed 24 June 2017.

[4] Thornton McCamish, Our Man Elsewhere: In Search of Alan Moorehead , Melbourne: Black Inc, 2016, p.128.

[5] Rick Atkinson, The Day of Battle: The War in Sicily and Italy 1943-1944 , London: Abacus, 2007, p.576.

[6] Paul Fussell, Wartime: Understanding and Behavior in the Second World War , New York: Oxford University Press, 1989, pp. 7, 8.

[7] Statistical and Accounting Branch, Office of the Adjutant General, Army Battle Casualties and Nonbattle Deaths in World War II. Final Report 7 December 1941 – 31 December 1946 , http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USA/ref/Casualties/ Accessed 25 June 2017.

[8] Rüdiger Overmans, Deutsche militärische Verluste im Zweiten Weltkrieg . Oldenbourg, 2000, p.174.

[9] Peaty, ‘Desertion crisis,’ p.76.

[10] Eric Morris, Circles of Hell: The War in Italy 1943-1945 , New York: Crown, 1993, p.399.

[11] Norman Lewis, Naples ’44: An Intelligence Officer in the Italian Labyrinth , London: Eland, 1978, p.58.

[12] Lewis, Naples ’44 , p.23.

Nella nebbia di Milano: uno studio ciclo-etnografico – Note del 19/09/2017

Tue, 19 Sep 2017 15:27:00 GMT

Sono in effetti un po’ dispiaciuta di dover abbandonare la formazione di queste giovani menti. Quasi certamente in altri due o tre anni di studi sarebbero riusciti a passare anche con me l’esame propedeutico, ora assegnato ad altro docente. Mi consola però che gli studenti mi abbiano assicurato non sentiranno la mia mancanza. Segno che la formazione che ho loro trasmesso è stata apprezzata: come dice un antico detto milanesiano, l’insegnante brava è l’insegnante che non serve più.

Certo il comitato finanziatore sarà rimasto impressionato dall’estrema rilevanza del mio progetto, che approfondisce le trasformazioni della cultura milanesiana connesse ai processi di globalizzazione e ai cambiamenti climatici, concentrandosi sul più tipico artefatto della società brumosa: la bicicletta . Parto carica di entusiasmo. La mia ricerca, “ Nella nebbia di Milano : uno studio ciclo-etnografico”, svelerà aspetti centrali dei modi in cui i rapporti sociali sono intessuti, i valori trasmessi e negoziati, le biciclette venerate, temute e pedalate, in questa misteriosa cultura primitiva, a lungo rimasta sconosciuta perché nascosta delle nebbie caratteristiche dell’habitat milanesiano. Ora preparo i bagagli, mettendo in valigia, come prima cosa, la confezione di cerotti per sbucciature di ginocchio da caduta di bicicletta che i miei affettuosi (oramai ex) studenti ripetenti mi hanno graziosamente donato. Che teneri!

[ANNUNCIO: Cercasi assistente di ricerca con esperienza etnografica pregressa nella valle del Po. Si richiedono: laurea specialistica in Antropologia milanesiana, conoscenza di base dei dialetti locali, capacità di andare in bicicletta senza rotelle e di sorridere quando si dice “Buongiorno”. Referenze da parte dell’esperto in Culture delle società brumose Prof. D. Moss saranno considerate titolo preferenziale. Retribuzione: 3 pistilli di zafferano e mezza michetta per ciascuna giornata lavorativa. Risotto con verze la domenica, anche se non si lavora.]

Religion, translation, Orientalists, purity and danger: ACIS in Prato

Mon, 18 Sep 2017 13:22:00 GMT

The keynote speakers at the ACIS Prato conference in July have very generously allowed us access to the videos of their presentation. Maurizio Isabella (QMUL), In the Name of God: Religion, popular mobilization and the culture wars of Italy and the Mediterranean, 1790-1860 ca , viewable here , underlines the essential role played by religion in both revolutionary and counter-revolutionary communities of mobilization. Pierangela Diadori (Università per Stranieri di Siena), Multiculturality and Inclusion through Plurilingual Public Signs in Contemporary Italy , linked here , offers a guide to the ways in which translation issues surface in public signs in multicultural Italy. Barbara Spackman (UC Berkeley) tracks the careers of two rackety but enterprising Italians, in Egypt by desertion or misadventure, in her Accidental Orientalists: Nineteenth-century Italian travelers in Egypt , available here . And Nicholas Terpstra (University of Toronto) describes the forms of discipline and exclusion developed to ward off the dangers of impurity in Religious Refugees in the Early Modern Period: Faith, identity, and purification in the Italian context , available here . The abstracts for their talks can be found by reading on below ...

ACIS Conference Prato, 2017. Final Dinner. Photo Catherine Kovesi

Maurizio Isabella : In the name of God: religion, popular mobilization and the culture wars of Italy and the Mediterranean, 1790-1860 ca

My paper locates the political culture of the Italian peninsula between the late 18 ^th century and the mid-19 ^th century in the context of the intellectual exchanges and conflicts taking place in the Mediterranean and Southern Europe in the age of revolutions. It does so by looking at the role played by religion and religious culture in mobilizing people across the region, from the Iberian peninsula to the Middle East, along with the cultural convergences and interactions that it produced. It argues that the rise of mass politics and the cycles of revolution and counterrevolution in the Mediterranean, combined with attempts to rebuild and stabilize the political order, made religion more, not less relevant, and its political uses more important than ever. It shows that Italian along with other intellectuals in the region (whether Catholic, Orthodox or Muslim) employed religion not only to justify rebellion and insurrection against the enemy, but also to find a solution to the problem of reconciling order and authority with freedom. By so doing, they also almost always conceived new political communities that empowered but also excluded, justifying religious intolerance more often than challenging it.

Pierangela Diadori : Multiculturality and inclusion through plurilingual public signs in contemporary Italy

The study of words and images displayed in public spaces has been mainly investigated during the last decade under the umbrella of the research field of Linguistic Landscapes ( LL ), connecting discourse with space, particularly urban and open spaces. As Elana Shohamy and Durk Gorter point out “ LL touches various fields and attracts scholars from a variety of different and tangent disciplines: from linguistics to geography, education, sociology, politics, environmental studies, semiotics, communication, architecture, urban planning, literacy, applied linguistics, and economics” ( Linguistic Landscape. Expanding the Scenery . New York and London: Routledge, 2009: 1).

The importance of effective communication in open spaces where a large number of subjects who do not share the same language and culture are circulating is commonly shared. These are no longer limited to bilingual regions or to those areas devoted to international exchanges or concentrations of tourists, like airports, congress halls, hotels, museums, historical centres, etc. An explosion of multilingualism has emerged in many other contexts as an expression of ethnicity, especially in urban centres where new migrants tend to settle and live.

The study of plurilingual messages in public signs – i.e. oral, iconic and written texts anonymously produced to reach the widest range of individuals that have in common only the fact of temporarily using the same public facilities – may prove particularly interesting to investigate multiculturality and inclusion in contemporary Italy. Not only the languages used and the sign location can be interpreted as witnesses of social phenomena in a changing Italy, but also the translation quality can be an important key to understand their social impact and the emotional reaction of addressees in the case of a poor translation. In this presentation a series of recent examples will be analysed and discussed.

Barbara Spackman : Accidental Orientalists: Nineteenth-Century Italian Travelers in Egypt

This talk will examine two cases of what I call accidental Orientalists: natives of the Italian peninsula who found themselves in nineteenth-century Egypt by chance – desertion, misadventure, profiteering – and who adopted local dress, and, in one case, “turned Turk.” The lesser-known of the two, Giovanni Finati, converted to Islam and passed as Albanian throughout his life in Egypt; the better-known Giovanni Belzoni adopted local dress but his conversion remained merely sartorial. The talk will track their negotiations with the fluidity and contingency of identities to be found in the para-colonial context of nineteenth-century Egypt. Both Finati and Belzoni found themselves in roles that mediated between the British, on the hand, and the Arabs and Turks, on the other: Finati as dragoman, or interpreter, for the British, and Belzoni as excavator, funded by the British, and who in turn employed the local populations as wage laborers. From these intermediary positions, emerge subjectivations both ambiguous and ambivalent, and their narratives suggest that there may, somewhat paradoxically, be an “Italian” specificity to be found in the particular malleability of an already weak national identity when set adrift among the fluidity of identities in Ottoman lands.

Nicholas Terpstra : Religious Refugees in the Early Modern Period: Faith, Identity, and Purification in the Italian Context

It was in the early modern period that the religious refugee first emerged as a mass phenomenon. Some of the reasons for this lie in movements for religious reform that were distinctly Italian. One distinguishing characteristic of all late medieval and early modern religious reform movements was their greater emphasis on collective purity and contagion, and their greater reliance on forms of discipline, enclosure, exclusion, and expulsion in order to deal with both the prospect and reality of impurity. Italians of that time used the Body as a key motif and image, and saw reform as a means of purifying the social body by purging it of its contagious or impure elements.

This theme is a shared characteristic of movements as opposite in character as the Observance and classical Humanism, particularly as they developed in Italy through the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It’s doubtful that Italians of the time fully understood or anticipated the broader social effects of these movements. Yet Italians were critical creative agents in the innovations that were transforming social, intellectual, and religious life in that time, and transforming Christianity above all. Their creativity made Italy the source of the Renaissance, and in turning this creativity to pursuing purity, containment, and purgation, it became a source of the Reformation as well – and of its many many refugees.

Addio a Peter Bondanella (1943-2017)

Mon, 05 Jun 2017 13:57:00 GMT

Peter, Christine and Gino, ACIS Conference, ANU, September 2001

In parallel with his work on Italian cinema ran a ten-year research project which resulted in The Eternal City: Roman Images in the Modern World (1987), a wide-ranging historical study presented in a readily-accessible language which received a nomination for the Pulitzer Prize. After a monographic study of The Films of Roberto Rossellini (1993) and an English edition of Machiavelli’s The Art of War (1995), Bondanella tackled a subject much closer to home in his Umberto Eco and the Open Text: Semiotics, Fiction, Popular Culture (1997). He would return to Eco in 2009 with the edited critical anthology, New Essays on Umberto Eco , but not before co-edited English editions of Machiavelli’s Discourses on Livy (1997) and Benvenuto Cellini’s My Life (2002), a newly-translated critical edition of Machiavelli’s The Prince (2005), and English editions with critical commentaries of all three of Dante’s cantiche, Inferno (2003), Purgatorio (2005) and Paradiso (2006). In between all of these there was the bringing to fruition of a long-nursed pet project in his Hollywood Italians: Dagos, Palookas, Romeos, Wise Guys, and Sopranos (2004). His final major publication, something of a last-ditch attempt to provide the most up-to-date summa on his favourite subject, was the edited critical anthology, The Italian Cinema Book (2014), a work he himself presented as “a readable, reliable, provocative and innovative treatment of the most important historical, aesthetic and cultural aspects of the Italian cinema throughout its long and glorious history” (p. 1).

Peter, Anna Ciliberti, Christine, Gino, David, ANU, 2001

Significantly, both in his teaching practice and in writing invariably characterised by rigorous scholarship and philology, he vehemently resisted the fashionable over-reliance on theory, especially in the analysis of films. As he once remarked in an interview : ‘Yes it’s nice to have a theory, but not if it gets in the way of reading a text or screening a film in its proper historical or aesthetic context. My goal is to teach students to appreciate something essentially foreign to them, to encourage them to take an interest in something that is initially difficult and confusing. I don’t think you’re going to accomplish this with cultural theory alone. There are, to be old-fashioned about it, such things as aesthetics and artistic form, not to mention taste. I think cultivating people’s taste these days is more important than ever, since one of the products of a consumer culture in our times has been precisely a leveling of artistic taste and a numbing of our sensibilities to art or literature that is not mainstream or highly predictable.’

Award of the Jo-Anne Duggan Prize 2017

Wed, 31 May 2017 16:25:00 GMT

ACIS is very pleased to announce that the Jo-Anne Duggan Prize 2017 has been awarded to Monique Webber (University of Melbourne) for her essay ‘”In Search of Universal Icons”: Interrogating the Superstar Phenomenon of Early Modern Art through the Photography of Jo-Anne Duggan’. It shows how Jo-Anne Duggan’s photographs – notably those in her exhibitions Before the Museum (2000-2002), Impossible Gaze (2002-2005), and Wondrous Possessions (2010) – explore the impact of the passage of time on the works of forgotten masters and the way we now reflect on them. The essay reveals how Jo-Anne’s approach to Renaissance artworks uncovers the complex marks of superstar culture, the dominant form of our contemporary engagement with art and often regarded as a distinctive symptom of the modern age. We are also very pleased to give the Highly Commended award to Laelie Greenwood (Monash University) for her essay ‘Private Memory, Public Spaces: An Examination of Memory and Monument within Italian Immigrant Experience in Carlton’ . She analyses the architecture of Malbourne’s Carlton area, using Jo-Anne Duggan’s writings to explore the ways in which Italian-Australians developed a distinctive architectural style in their house facades and renovations to convey their enduring links to the country they had left.

Il 9 maggio

Tue, 09 May 2017 13:08:00 GMT

Oggi è il giorno per ricordare due persone molto diverse uccise il 9 maggio del 1978: Aldo Moro, ucciso dalle BR; Peppino Impastato, dalla mafia. Sulla vita e sulla morte di Moro è stato scritto moltissimo; un utile riassunto del dibattito nazionale e internazionale sulla natura e sulle cause della violenza politica che l’ha ucciso […]

Language Variation in Renaissance Italy

Fri, 24 Mar 2017 14:18:00 GMT

The central research question of my project therefore asks: what did Milanese dialect look like at the end of the fifteenth-century as shown in the writing from an Augustinian nun at a time when language in Lombardy has been described as a ‘kingdom of free variation’? I am studying hitherto overlooked non-literary sources in a framework of language history ‘ from below ’, broadening the focus of previous scholarship on texts of the cultural élite. A striking characteristic of all written language in late medieval Italy is its linguistic heterogeneity so I shall also be compiling a picture of language variation in fifteenth-century Milan in a corpus of non-literary documents.

‘A sort of Roman saint’

Fri, 24 Feb 2017 13:58:00 GMT

‘The greatest poet of the 19th century’ (1976) …. ‘one of the three major revelations of my later life’ (1990) … ‘to read the entire corpus is to be overwhelmed. One dares to speak about greatness’ (1992). Who can this poet be? Aha .. ‘aromatic Roman speech haloed by a sonnet’ (1977). That’s a clue […]

Terra nostra. Mimi Mollica's photographic record.

Sun, 05 Feb 2017 16:34:00 GMT

In Terra Nostra the Palermo-born photographer Mimi Mollica explores the effects of the mafia on Sicily, documenting the damage it has inflicted on the physical and social landscape of the island and painting a dark picture of extortion, corruption and claustrophobia. The view is bleak, seedy and haunting, the violence itself mostly off-stage but its […]

‘Almost spectral in their otherness’

Mon, 09 Jan 2017 09:05:00 GMT

That’s a reviewer’s comment on the way the people captured in Martin Bogren’s recent Italia (Max Ström 2016) look. The Swedish photographer spent three years in Naples, Palermo, Bologna and Turin to produce a black-and-white portrayal of streets and subjects which seem suspended in time. ‘Been wandering around for days now. Street after street. With […]

Shirley Hazzard (Sydney 1931 – New York 2016)

Sat, 07 Jan 2017 16:44:00 GMT

From the first day [in Naples], everything changed. I was restored to life and power and thought.

Shirley Hazzard at the Mercantile Library Center for Fiction's Annual Benefit and Awards Dinner, held at the New York Tennis and Racquet Club, 350 Park Avenue, New York, October 29, 2007. Photo Christopher Peterson.

All her four novels – The Evening of the Holiday (1966), The Bay of Noon (1970), The Transit of Venus (1980), The Great Fire (2003, which won the Miles Franklin and US National Book awards) – take readers into complex moral territory where the certainties and compulsions of sexual and romantic love are tested by individual vulnerability. Also important throughout her work have been what she called “public themes”: the human matter of political and social life, played out against a global and historical backdrop. Even among the significant cohort of Australian writers who have lived and worked in the US, Hazzard occupied a unique position, particularly in the way her work, and her position as writer, remained unconfined by national borders and paradigms.

She was born on January 30 1931 in Sydney, the younger daughter of Reginald Hazzard and Catherine Stein Hazzard who met while both were working for the firm that built the Sydney Harbour Bridge. She attended Queenwood School in Balmoral but never went to university. During the war, with fears of a Japanese invasion of Sydney running high, her school was evacuated to the rural outskirts of Sydney, as dramatised in the Australian sections of The Transit of Venus . She later observed that encountering Italian prisoners of war there was a defining moment in her humanistic education, informing her sense of the shape and scope of the world and of important human connections to be made beyond national borders: “In Australia, in wartime, Italy and Italians were a theme of derision to us — yet here were these prisoners, recognisable in simple human terms.” Also central to her world and her developing world view was literature and reading: “In childhood, I lived much in books, and imagination, where one discovers affinities.”

Immediately after the war the Hazzard family left Sydney, first for Hong Kong, then via Wellington, New Zealand, to New York, where her father took up the position of Australian trade commissioner in 1950. Hazzard never returned to Australia to live. She later described this early experience of expatriation as “fortunate, formative”, and noted that she felt it was “a privilege — to be at home in more than one place”. She found employment working in a junior capacity for the UN until the early 1960s when she left to pursue writing full time. She had begun writing while employed by the UN and her work was quickly accepted by The New Yorker . Fiction editor William Maxwell once observed that her early stories were received with some astonishment for they required almost no revision or editorial work, appearing to be “the work of a finished literary artist about whom we knew nothing whatever”.

In January 1963 Hazzard met the man who would become her husband, the eminent Flaubert translator and biographer Francis Steegmuller, 24 years her senior, at a party given by their mutual friend, novelist Muriel Spark. Hazzard described the meeting as if a scene from one of her novels: “I noticed Francis, whom I’d never met, as he entered the room. He was, and is, very tall; he was very serious, even austere; and he was wearing a fawn-coloured great coat, a sort of British Warm … It was a singular moment: colpo di fulmine — a lightning bolt. In any case we sat down in a corner together and stayed there. When we came out of that corner, you might say, we went and got married.” Hazzard and Steegmuller shared a 17 ^th floor apartment in the Upper East Side of Manhattan and apartments in Naples and on Capri until Steegmuller’s death in 1994 at the age of 88. They had no children.

The intensity of their shared literary life was described by a translator friend as a “conjugal version of literary high life”. The couple was intricately connected to literary and intellectual circles in New York and Italy, and also maintained friendships and correspondence for many years with several Australian authors, including Patrick White, David Malouf and Elizabeth Harrower. These literary circles might be seen as her truest affiliation, supplanting those of national belonging or connection. In 1976 Hazzard returned to Australia as a guest of the Adelaide Writers Festival and found a country transformed from the provincial place of her memory: “It was as if the country had grown younger.” Her 1977 “Letter From Australia”, commissioned by The New Yorker , provided a lengthy and optimistic account of dramatic changes in Australian society and culture in the wake of the 1972 election of the first postwar Labor government. For the story she interviewed distinctive figures of the period, including Gough Whitlam, Sydney green bans organiser Jack Mundey, South Australian premier Don Dunstan, and Tasmanian wilderness photographer and activist Olegas Truchanas. A few years later, however, when she returned again to present the 1984 ABC Boyer Lectures, she focused more heavily on the provincialism of prewar Australia. As with her later satirical representation of midcentury Australian expatriates in Japan in The Great Fire , the lectures sparked an indignant response from many commentators who felt that her representation of the country of her birth had lost touch with its contemporary culture and society.

Hazzard’s writing, both fiction and nonfiction, is defined by its dense alignment of public and private worlds, of politics and poetry and love. There is no sense in her work that these worlds are anything other than deeply and intimately interconnected, finding their expression in individual thought and action. This has been the bedrock of Hazzard’s ethical stance as writer and citizen: “There is no such thing as official cowardice. All cowardice, like true courage, is personal.” Her work began always from the premise of internationalism: in this she exemplified the idealism of the midcentury and the shared conviction that the conflagrations of global war might be balanced by a political engagement and processes for establishing international relationships. Of her decade of employment at the UN she later observed: “I was 20 and I was part of that feeling of hope that came into the world with the end of the war. I went, like many other people then, to apply to the United Nations in a spirit of idealism, little dreaming indeed that idealism was the last thing that was wanted there.”

Alongside her acclaimed fiction she published a series of essays and two books setting out her objections to UN practice and policy. She argued that from its inception the UN had been the puppet of its member governments, most particularly and perniciously the US and Soviet Union, and cited Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s depiction of the institution as “a United Governments Organisation”. These failings led to what she saw as a catastrophic capitulation on the part of the UN to McCarthyist investigations in its earliest years through the surveillance of employees who were US citizens, and later to its collusive role in the concealment of secretary-general Kurt Waldheim’s wartime involvement with the Austrian Nazi party. She was the first writer to air these stories publicly, devoting years of her writing life to that task. She also worked tirelessly behind the scenes to bring to world attention what she saw as the censorship of Solzhenitsyn’s books when they were removed from bookshops on UN territory in Geneva in 1974 at the behest of the Soviet government. She presented these labours through the figure of the citizen poet, drawing on an essay attacking corruption in the church by the poet Milton, to highlight the conflict inherent in a writer’s public conscience and sense of civic responsibility. This sense of public obligation and accountability were also informed by her commitment to the traditions of humanism in Western thought and its capacity to bring personal and political spheres into alignment: “Humanism set the dignity and singularity of a man or woman above abstractions and inventions. Through generations of the world’s fratricidal convulsions, it supplied the fragile continuity of individual civilisation. It offered hospitality to thought and art.” Although her novels remain beguilingly out of step with contemporary fiction in their style and scope and subject matter, they orient readers towards what she saw as the heart of the writer’s but also the reader’s obligation: our “responsibility to the accurate word”.

This is a lightly reworked version of the obituary which appeared in The Australian in December 2016. For further discussion of Hazzard’s work see Brigitta Olubas, Shirley Hazzard: Literary Expatriate and Cosmopolitan Humanist (Cambria Press, 2012) and Brigitta Olubas (ed), We Need Silence to Find Out What We Think. Selected Essays by Shirley Hazzard (Columbia University Press, 2016).

Un altro panettone!

Sun, 18 Dec 2016 19:38:00 GMT

Infine i processi di individualizzazione che si possono in particolare osservare nelle generazioni milanesiane più giovani, sempre più restie a partecipare alle celebrazioni collettive ma che nondimeno non si sottraggono all’obbligo del tradizionale scambio rituale di panettone, hanno condotto alla preparazione di panettoni bi o mono-porzione , arricchiti da ingredienti inusuali e cotti in modi eccentrici a rimarcare l’interpretazione ironica delle tradizioni locali.

ACIS Postgraduate Scholarships for Research in Italy, 2017

Sat, 26 Nov 2016 14:32:00 GMT

ACIS congratulates the three winners of the ACIS Cassamarca scholarships for postgraduate research in Italy in 2017. Paola Di Trocchio (University of Technology Sydney) has been awarded the Dino De Poli Scholarship for her project, Reading fashion in the museum through a case study of Anna Piaggi, Walking Museum , which investigates the life and work of Anna Piaggi (1931-2012), journalist, stylist and Vogue Italia contributor, and her impact on fashion culture and the museum. Anna Piaggi was a major figure in design and fashion history in Italy and beyond. In The Machine and the Arch Shayani Fernando (University of Sydney) will examine traditional stone architecture in Italy, seeking to learn from past masonry structures to build for the future, expanding our knowledge to improve the maintenance and restoration of sandstone buildings in Australia. She will investigate dry stone construction techniques in Alberobello and take up a position as scholar-in-residence in Bari. The project of Julie Robarts (University of Melbourne), The poetry and the person of Margherita Costa , is a study of the early published poetry and Lettere amorose of Roman virtuosa singer, Margherita Costa (c1600-1664). It will be the first philological study of Costa’s poetry, and the first cultural-historical study of her authorship.

A tale of two journeys: the composition and publication of the Codice Rustici

Fri, 28 Oct 2016 09:21:00 GMT

In 1450 or thereabouts a Florentine goldsmith, Matteo di Bartolomeo Rustici, began to write down the story of a perhaps imaginary journey to the Holy Land a decade earlier. He relied heavily on his favourite readings, copying and abridging them, illustrating his accounts of places and events with detailed watercolours, frequently digressing from his main […]

Celebrating the Life of Dario Fo: “Contra Jogulatores Obloquentes”

Mon, 17 Oct 2016 20:54:00 GMT

Dario Fo – Nobel Lecture Illustration 3

Dario Fo died last Thursday, 13 October, at the age of 90. Rather than fumbling to find the right words to honour this great anarchic jester, we thought we’d let the masterful teller of yarns do it for us by linking to his acceptance speech for the 2007 Nobel Prize in Literature. In “Contra Jogulatores Obloquentes” (“Against Jesters Who Defame and Insult”) Fo records his debt to earlier clowns and storytellers, particularly the actor-playwrights Ruzzante and Molière. Fo’s description of these men and the fear their art evoked could well describe his own theatrical skills and how he, along with his wife and frequent co-performer Franca Rame , were received by the political establishment:

“Above all, they were despised for bringing onto the stage the everyday life, joys and desperation of the common people; the hypocrisy and the arrogance of the high and mighty; and the incessant injustice. And their major, unforgivable fault was this: in telling these things, they made people laugh. Laughter does not please the mighty.”

But it pleases, and emboldens, the not-so-mighty. For those gifts, and as you take your last bow, Jester Fo, we give a standing ovation.

Italian Art and Politics in the New York Press

Thu, 06 Oct 2016 20:05:00 GMT

Sally Grant writes ...

Photo: Vincent Garcia

Aside from the news a few days ago that two stolen Van Gogh paintings were recovered near Naples , the New York press has covered Italy’s art and political worlds in a number of recent articles. After Virginia Raggi became the first female mayor of Rome earlier this year, Katie Parla reported on women’s status in the city in “There’s Never Been a Better Time to be a Woman in Rome” for New York Magazine. Though she notes that there are still plenty of sexist obstacles to overcome, the article emphasises a new optimism in Rome, where women are influencing city life in ever-increasing ways. Meanwhile, over at the New York Times , Rachel Donadio wrote of the tricky manoeuvring called for when art and politics collide in her account of the bureaucratic obstacles faced by—another first—the new, non-Italian, director of the Uffizi.

A German art historian, Erike Schmidt, was appointed to the role in 2015 when the Italian Culture Ministry overhauled the organisation of 20 of its most important museums and conducted an international search for new directors. Six other non-Italians were also hired in a move that is meant to vivify the running and visitor experience of these institutions.

Among these institutions is another Florentine museum—the Galleria dell’Accademia—where another German scholar, Cecilie Hollberg, is the new director. In an essay for the New York Times Magazine , Sam Anderson ruminates on the Accademia’s most famous work, Michelangelo’s David , which, as the Renaissance symbol of the Florentine Republic, perfectly embodies the intersection of art and politics. Anderson ponders the statue’s cultural ambiguities (at once an artistic masterpiece and the subject of selfies and tacky simulacrums) and his own personal obsession with the sculpture. In particular, he philosophises on the weakness of David’s ankles, which was widely reported following a scientific study in 2014.

While it has long been known that there are tiny cracks in the ankles, the study revealed that if the sculpture was to tilt, caused, for example, by earth tremors, it would likely collapse. After earthquake tremors affected Florence that same year, the Culture Ministry vowed to install a protective pedestal but to date this has still not occurred. According to Anderson’s article, which was published just days before the recent devastation in central Italy, this is partly due to the restructuring of the museum and the bureaucracy and political machinations this has entailed.

Anderson does, however, also present Hollberg’s perspective on the problem, reporting that she is taking a measured approach to address the issue in the best, not just the most newsworthy, way. In this old institution there are many other problems to be addressed. Considering the meaning the David sculpture has for Anderson, this makes him uneasy, but “for now, and for the foreseeable future,” he writes, and I suspect he is talking of more than just the statue here, “we would just have to trust the David to keep standing”. After all, without such heroic works of humanity, how are we to defeat the Goliaths of the world?

The rise and rise of Checco Zalone: Quo vado

Wed, 05 Oct 2016 11:10:00 GMT

Despite the intermittent chuckling from the less-than-packed audience at the session I attended, a viewing of the film left me scratching my head for an explanation of its stratospheric success. As the self-recounted story of a young slacker willing to do anything and go anywhere in order to stymie the efforts of his superiors to take from him what he values most in life – the guaranteed sinecure of his public service job – the plot seemed piecemeal, the acting vapid and the social satire alla commedia all’italiana , with the exception of the odd spiky jibe, generally anodyne. How, then, has this slight and very ordinary film managed to achieve the challenging feat of drawing Italian audiences back to their own films and to thus raise the fortunes of the national cinema to a level not seen since the golden age of the 1960s?

The answer, as at least one commentator has suggested, is precisely through its very ordinariness and modesty, by being a film for everyone, for young children and their grandparents and everyone in between. No explicit sex, no violence and an adolescent sarcasm which, even at its most caustic, and often politically incorrect, manages to remain largely inoffensive. The current Italian Prime Minister, Matteo Renzi, was proud to boast that he had watched the film together with his young children and they had all loved it, the children being able to repeat all the comic exchanges by heart.

At the same time producer Pietro Valsecchi, still flush from the unexpected box-office success of the earlier three films in the series, was able to engineer a canny marketing strategy that involved launching the film at the height of the festive season and moreover daring to open it simultaneously on 1,200 national screens (the new Star Wars had apparently opened on only 850). The film and the likeable-enough face of its protagonist, Checco Zalone, was thus everywhere to be seen. The front-end loading strategy that’s become the norm in the release of Hollywood blockbusters since the mid-1970s appears to have finally been adopted for a home-grown Italian feature and it seems definitely to have worked.

A monumental achievement, then, and a good omen for the future of Italian cinema? Perhaps. One should remember that, though largely dismissed by ‘serious’ critics and film historians, genre films, and comedies in particular, have always played a pivotal role in sustaining the health of the Italian film industry. Nevertheless, perhaps the down side of the overwhelming popularity achieved by this gentle satire of the Italy of the First Republic with its nostalgia for the period writ large for clearly ironic purposes may be that it also betrays the widespread existence of a real and genuinely-felt nostalgia for an Italy of former times, chaotic and corrupt but in which everyone knew the rules and who to ask for favours and thus the country had managed to muddle through. It would be sad indeed to think that many Italians, certainly many of those who have affectionately embraced the film, may be so discontented with life in post-Berlusconi Italy that they may actually be hankering for the Italy of the First Republic which, as the theme song that closes the film asserts, “non si scorda mai”.

Sustainable Lina: the architecture of adaptive reuse

Thu, 29 Sep 2016 07:57:00 GMT

Lina Bo Bardi (1914-1992) was an Italian-born designer of buildings, furniture and jewelry. She trained in Milan with Carlo Pagani and Giò Ponti, working also for Domus and Milano Sera directed by Elio Vittorini. In 1946 she moved to Brazil where she became well-known for her modernist buildings, notably the São Paulo Museum of Art […]

Topographies of Identity

Tue, 27 Sep 2016 07:14:00 GMT

In her contribution to the recent volume edited by Patrizia Sambuco, Italian Women Writers 1800-2000 : Boundaries, Borders and Transgression (2015), Rita Wilson explores topographies of identity along frontiers (borders mark clear divisions; frontiers, the unstable meeting-place of differences). She considers the novels by Giuliana Morandini ( I cristalli di Vienna (1978); Caffè specchi (1983); Angelo a Berlino (1987)), in particular how and why her protagonists feel themselves to be outsiders present in, but distanced from, the Central European capitals where they live. She pursues the theme of partly alienated observers, disenchanted flâneuses in their city streets, in the novel Amiche per la pelle (2007) by Laila Waida, born in India but living in Trieste.

In the same volume, Patrizia Sambuco examines how, in Nel paese di Gesù. Ricordi di un viaggio in Palestina (1899), and Lettere di una viaggiatrice (1908), Matilde Serao handles two further kinds of boundary-crossings: journeys into unfamiliar societies and the then unconventional role of women as travellers.

Immigrati italiani morti nel 1901, commemorati nel 2016

Sun, 25 Sep 2016 10:14:00 GMT

‘Dopo 115 anni è arrivato il tempo di onorare la memoria di uomini, donne, madri, padri, figli e figlie che hanno perso la vita in uno dei più tragici incidenti della storia degli Stati Uniti’. Queste sono le parole del sindaco che accompagnono un Memorial Service per commemorare almeno cento immigrati italiani morti in un […]

Migration to Australia: recent arrivals from Italy

Sat, 30 Jul 2016 14:52:00 GMT

Riccardo Armillei and Bruno Mascitelli write ...

As well as encouraging closer relations between the two countries, the post-war emigration of Italians to Australia played a key role in transforming Australia economically, socially, and culturally. Italians contributed greatly to transforming the population make-up of Australia (Castles et al. 1987, p. 35; Phillips, Klapdor & Simon-Davies, 2010), becoming the second-largest migrant group after the ‘Anglo-Celtic’ segment of the overseas‐born population (UK, New Zealand and Ireland). Despite their limited command of English, they became the most numerous non-English-speaking immigrants in the labour market, becoming particularly prominent in city markets, restaurants and the smallholdings that supplied them. The ‘chain-migration’ element in the overall program reinforced this new diversity, as people joined other family or community members who had already migrated.

However, the Italian migration of that period is a closed chapter in Australian migration history. In line with its concern to expand relations with its Asian neighbours, Australia now embraces the migration sources, particularly China and India, that it rejected in the period of the White Australia Policy. While European migrants represented the main components of Australian migration population growth and diversity until the 1980s, the 1990s saw the entry of Vietnam, China and the Philippines into the list of top 10 source countries (Phillips, Klapdor & Simon-Davies 2010). Currently, five out of the top ten overseas countries of birth are Asian countries. The number of Australian residents born in China or India has increased exponentially in the last two decades (by 457 per cent and 334 per cent, respectively). At the same time, the number of migrants born in Italy continued to diminish: by 2011 it had declined from its peak of 289,476 in 1971 to 185,401 (its lowest level since 1954), a decrease of almost 36 per cent (Department of Immigration and Border Protection [DIBP], 2014). Between 2011 and 2015, however, a slight increase (6.9 per cent or 12,799) was recorded, taking the total to 198,200 (ABS, 2015) and adding a new stream to an Italian community defined largely by the descendants of the earlier post-war migrants.

Despite the obvious differences between the contexts of departure in 1950 and 2016, this recent migratory movement, of predominantly temporary character, has often been compared to the Italian migration of the 1950s and 1960s. Yet neither the patterns or consequences of the exodus from Italy nor the experiences of the new migrants in Australia has been examined carefully. This study, which seeks to redress this gap in our knowledge, is based on a survey of newly arrived Italians. Between January and May 2016, more than six hundred online surveys were collected among those who had arrived in Australia since 2004. Focus groups were also conducted with ‘new Italian migrants’ and migration agents in order to ensure validation of the results of the online survey responses.

This research was designed to cover the nature of this ‘new’ migration, its differences from the sources of the traditional Italian-Australian community, the social inclusion process and ensuing options, opportunities and problems. While acknowledging the existence of an increase in Italians coming to Australia, the investigation also aims to show that recent references to this new phenomenon are based on an overstatement of what the data demonstrate and, equally, of its likely prospects for the future. The contribution of the Italian cohort of migration to the national permanent population in Australia is rather low, as shown by Table 1 snapshot (below).

Table 1: Main Visa Categories 2004-2015. Visas Granted to Italian Citizens [1]

[1] Some visa categories were too small and were not counted. Percentages may not add up to 100%.

Source: Armillei and Mascitelli (2016)

In broad terms, the Italian share of the Australian Temporary visa program between 2004 and 2015 was very small: a mere 1.5% of the total (this figure is calculated by looking at the four major temporary visa subclasses as shown in Table 1.1). In terms of the Italian contribution to the national Migration Program, the figure is lower still, at 0.5%, with 8,711 visas granted of the total of 1,832,548.

The analysis of the survey data confirms the dominant trend that sees a consistent part of Italians (almost fifty percent) arriving in Australia through the Working Holiday (WH) visa program. This group was followed by 13% of Italian nationals on a Student visa and 12% on a ‘457’ visa. Most (83%) of the survey participants were young (aged 18-40), highly educated, with 60% holding either a bachelor degree, a master degree, or even a PhD. The social differentiation which emerged from this survey indicated 24% had been white-collar employees, 17% professionals, 15% students (without scholarship) and 12% blue-collar workers. 13% of the participants were involved in the hospitality industry, another 13% in the education and training sector, 12% in arts, design and entertainment, and 10% in architecture or engineering. While many respondents indicated that one of the main reasons for coming to Australia was to find better job opportunities, it was the category ‘to have a new life experience’ which attracted the greatest number of responses (52%). Interestingly, only a small group (9%) were unemployed before moving to Australia.

The rise of China as a global economy and power has made a China-Australia trade corridor an attractive prospect for the Australian economy. A two-way trade and investment relationship has developed: ‘today, China is Australia’s largest trading partner in terms of both imports and exports. Australia is China’s sixth largest trading partner’ (Holmes, 2013 ca., para. 3). The early 2000s also saw increasing levels of Chinese investment in Australia to an extent that began to threaten the normally strong levels of European and USA foreign direct investment into Australia. Growing levels of Chinese migration followed closely. The Australia-China relationship began to acquire strategic importance, later quantified in the 2015 Free Trade Agreement between the two countries. Australian leaders recently acknowledged that ‘the trade treaty is fundamental to the nation’s future prosperity as it opens up markets for local companies to exploit China’s growing middle class and the ensuing consumption economy’ (China Daily 2016). In other words, projected to grow by more than 850 million by 2030, China’s middle class represents Australia’s ‘mega-market’ (Callick, 2016).

Italian and Chinese migrations represent two unique cases in Australian history. At their different times, both groups have made important contributions to the development of Australia’s population and economy. While the new Italian cohort of migrants has been met with little or no interest, increasing attention is now focusing on the growing wave of Chinese settling in Australia. Italy and other European countries were the privileged sources of migrants particularly after the end of the Second World War. The fact that by 2006 the number of China-born Australians had overtaken the Italian-born Australians symbolizes the accomplishment of Australia’s efforts to re-position itself in the Pacific region. It seems unlikely that the very limited increase in Italian immigration, even though it marks a reversal of the trend over the past three decades, will have any impact on that development.

References

Armillei, R. & Mascitelli, B. (2016). From 2004 to 2016 – A new Italian ‘exodus’ to Australia? Report for the COMITES (Committee of Italians Abroad) of Victoria and Tasmania.

Australian Bureau of Statistics. (2015). 3412.0 – Migration, Australia, 2014-15 .

Callick, R. (2016, April 9). China’s growing middle class our mega-market . The Australian .

Castles, S., Cope, B., Kalantzis, M., & Morrissey, M. (1990). Mistaken identity: Multiculturalism and the demise of nationalism in Australia (2nd ed.). Sydney: Pluto Press.

China Daily USA. (2016, January 28). Businesses see China-Australia trade corridor attractive .

Dalla Bernadina G., Grigoletti G., & Pianelli S. (2013). Australia solo andata, 2013, Rapporto Italiani in Australia 2013 [Australia solo andata, 2013, Report on Italians in Australia].

Department of Immigration and Border Protection. (2014). The People of Australia Statistics from the 2011 Census .

Grigoletti, M. & Pianelli, S. (2014). Rapporto Italiani in Australia 2014. Australia Solo Andata .

Holmes, A. (2013 ca.). Australia’s economic relationships with China .

Marchese, D. (2014, November 28). Economic devastation in Europe prompts new wave of Italian migration to Australia . ABC .

Phillips, J., Klapdor, M. & Simon-Davies, J. (2010). Migration to Australia since Federation: a guide to the statistics . Parliament of Australia: Department of Parliamentary Services.

Jo-Anne Duggan Prize for 2017: Call for submissions

Sat, 23 Jul 2016 12:27:00 GMT

ACIS is calling for submissions – essay or creative work with exegesis – for the biennial Prize in memory of Jo-Anne Duggan to be awarded in 2017. Jo-Anne was a talented photo-media artist and scholar whose engagement in original ways with Italian culture and history won great admiration. Her work, viewable at The Colour Factory and illustrated […]

ACIS Postgraduate Scholarship for Research in Italy, 2017

Wed, 22 Jun 2016 08:39:00 GMT

The Australasian Centre for Italian Studies (ACIS), supported by the Cassamarca Foundation (Treviso), is offering UP TO THREE scholarships worth A$6,000 each to provide postgraduate students at an Australian or New Zealand university with the opportunity to work on a research project in Italy in 2017. For one of the awards, the Dino De Poli Scholarship which honours the President of the Cassamarca Foundation, preference may be given to applications for research on any aspect of the culture, history and society of North East Italy. Details of eligibility and the application procedure are available here , accompanied by guidelines for describing projects. The closing date for applications is Friday 14 October 2016 .

9th Biennial ACIS Conference: Monash Prato, 4-7 July 2017

Fri, 06 May 2016 08:59:00 GMT

The 9th Biennial ACIS conference , Scontri e incontri: the dynamics of Italian transcultural exchanges , hosted in association with the School of Languages, Literatures, Cultures and Linguistics, Monash University and the School of Humanities and Social Sciences, La Trobe University, will be held at the Monash University Centre in Prato , Italy, on 4-7 July 2017 . The conference will explore sites of contact, connection and exchange in the Italian context. Some can be understood as open sites of interaction and juxtaposition in which people, goods and ideas from across the globe come and go and which are shaped by important trajectories of trade or distinctive histories of colonialism, imperialism or globalisation. When encounters occur in contexts of asymmetrical relations of power, no exchange or contact is present without an inherent confrontation. Language is used to create or manipulate perceptions that are formed when worlds collide. It turns contact into an uneven exchange, such as colonisation, modern warfare and even gender relations. What are the repercussions of such uneven exchanges? How can examining these notions and their representations help illuminate common debates around identity (politics), ideology, globalisation and crisis, human rights, memory and history, the environment, and individual bodies, among others? Conversely, how can we better understand the potential of modern diasporas to connect cultures and lead to collaboration and renewal, through the establishment of wider-ranging networks and positive forms of exchange? The organisers are now calling for paper and panel proposals, to be submitted here , by 31 October 2016 .

The conference aims to provide an interdisciplinary platform to identify, discuss and debate those trends and turning-points which characterise advances in society, science and the arts in terms of clashes, connections and encounters. We invite paper and panel proposal from scholars and students across all discipline areas and periods within the broad field of Italian Studies that engage with ideas of conflict and exchange – imaginatively, theoretically, institutionally, politically, socially, historically, pedagogically, symbolically.

The keynote speakers will be: Massimo Carlotto , novelist; Pierangela Diadori (Università per Stranieri di Siena); Maurizio Isabella (Queen Mary University London); Barbara Spackman (University of California Berkeley); and Nicholas Terpstra (University of Toronto).

Further information on the programme, keynote speakers and accommodation in Prato will be posted on the ACIS conference page .

Topics for papers and panels may include, but are not limited to, the following:cultural/social change

The official conference languages are Italian and English.

Abstracts for papers (ca. 250 words) or panel proposals (which should include the title of the panel as well as title and abstracts for each of the individual papers) should be submitted to the organisers here by 31 October 2016 . Please include a biographical statement of no more than 100 words. Presentations should not exceed 20 minutes. Audiovisual facilities will be available.

Papers from postgraduate students are especially welcome. Travel scholarships and free registration will be available to postgraduates whose papers have been accepted. For information contact the organisers .

Further information on the programme, keynote speakers and accommodation in Prato will be posted on the conference page and in the conference section of the ACIS website.

Spaghetti/Knödel in the South Tyrol

Thu, 05 May 2016 17:19:00 GMT

Source: Wikimedia commons

South Tyrol, situated on the border between Austria and Italy, has been considered a 'peace model' by many nation-states since the creation of the province's autonomy statutes. The aim of those statutes was to allow for minority protection of the German- and Ladin- speaking communities while also permitting Austria to be the 'protector' of South Tyrol even though the province is situated in Italy. A by-product of the statutes was the creation of the 'separate but equal' education system, which allowed the German-, Italian- and Ladin- speaking communities to have individual schools in order to protect their culture and language identity. In recent years marriages between members of different language groups have increased and a requirement for applicants for certain civil service positions to have an adequate comprehension of the L2 or in some cases L3 have been imposed. In her doctoral thesis at the University of Oxford, ' Half spaghetti- half knôdel: cultural division through the lens of language learning ', Anne Wand has examined how the South Tyrolean school system has coped with the changing circumstances and with the pressures to move to an increasingly bilingual society.

Catholicism and politics after the DC

Thu, 05 May 2016 13:57:00 GMT

The latest issue of the Journal of Modern Italian Studies (vol.21, 3, 2016) has a set of articles on the nature of contemporary Catholicism and its relations to politics in Italy today. Did the election of Pope Francis mark a decisive shift in Catholic policy and practice, especially in the social field? How much and […]

Climb every mountain: the life of Felice Benuzzi (1910-1988)

Thu, 05 May 2016 13:00:00 GMT

Melbourne’s Italian Institute of Culture and Connor Court Publishing will be launching The Heart and the Abyss – The Life of Felice Benuzzi by Rory Steele, who will be present for the occasion, on Thursday 18 August at 6 pm at the Italian Institute, 233 Domain Road, South Yarra (rsvp to Bruno Mascitelli or phone […]

Flourishing in a Second Language: Workshop programme

Thu, 05 May 2016 10:53:00 GMT

Adelaide : Tuesday, 13 September 2016, 2pm – 4pm, Flinders University, 182 Victoria Square Adelaide, Level 2, Room 2.3 ( Adelaide flyer )
Melbourne : Friday, 16 September 2016, 2pm – 4pm, University of Melbourne, Room 123, Frank Tate Building ( Melbourne flyer )
Sydney : Wednesday, 21 September 2016, 11am – 1pm, University of Sydney, Education Building Seminar Room 436 ( Sydney flyer )
Brisbane : Thursday, 22 September 2016, 2pm – 4pm, Griffith University, Webb Centre Building, Board and Function Room Space, Level 7 ( Brisbane flyer )
Perth : Monday, 26 September, 2016, 9.30am – 11.30am, University of Western Australia, ARTS: [ G61] Arts Lecture Room 5 ( Perth flyer )

For more information or to register to attend any of the workshops, please visit the FL2 workshop site .

Smoke gets in your eyes, Italian style

Thu, 05 May 2016 09:36:00 GMT

For over a century, Carl Ipsen argues in Fumo, Italy has had a love affair with the cigarette. Perhaps no consumer item better symbolizes the economic, political, social and cultural dimensions of recent Italian history. From around 1900 the new and popular cigarette spread down the social hierarchy and eventually, in the 1960s, across the […]

Dante at Auschwitz: The role of poetry in our world

Thu, 05 May 2016 07:22:00 GMT

Frans Francken the Younger, Mankind's Eternal Dilemma - the Choice between Virtue and Vice, oil on panel, 1633. Wikimedia commons.

Is there a degree of suffering and degradation beyond which a man or a woman ceases to be a human being? A point beyond which our spirit dies and only pure physiology survives? And to what extent, if any, may poetry and literary culture be capable of preserving the integrity of our humanity? These are some of the questions, posed with reference to the descriptions of extreme suffering in Dante's Inferno and Primo Levi's If This is a Man , in the public lecture by Lino Pertile (Harvard), Dante at Auschwitz: the Role of Poetry in Our World , to be delivered at the Public Lecture Theatre, Old Arts Building, The University of Melbourne, on Thursday 22 September 2016, 6.00-7.00pm ( registration here ).

Professor Lino Pertile is Harvard College Professor and Carl A. Pescosolido Professor of Romance Languages and Literatures. Professor Pertile is a renowned scholar on Italian literature, with a particular focus on the medieval and Renaissance periods. He has also been Director of the Villa I Tatti, the Harvard Center for Italian Renaissance Studies (2010-15). His extensive list of publications include Dante in Context ( CUP, 2015), The Cambridge History of Italian Literature (CUP, 1996 and 1999), and The New Italian Novel (Edinburgh University Press, 1993).

Anthology on Italian Independent Cinema: CfP

Tue, 26 Apr 2016 08:21:00 GMT

The projected anthology intends to identify, document and examine the particular nature of such phenomena in the Italian context, spanning narrative, aesthetic, ideological and technological aspects of moving images. Its goals include: giving voice to neglected forms of Italian cinema and uncharted cineastes, and defining, examining and studying the cinematic panorama of Italy through a new lens – its singular attitudes and practices of ‘independence’.

Possible topics

• Studies of individual filmmakers, especially if unknown or ignored
• The historical character of the independent practices of Arnaldo Ginna and Bruno Corra
• A study of film(s) from the ‘Ipotesi Cinema’ centre of Ermanno Olmi
• The alternative (or avant-garde) cinema of Paolo Gioli or Marinella Pirelli
• The melange practices of Marcello Bongiò and the ‘1AmuLtimediaA’ group
• Independence as “a clan”: the autarkic beginnings of Moretti’s circle of friends
• The works of Italian film co-op centers (i.e. Rome’s “Formazione Radial”, Milan’s “Studio Azzurro” and “Mondani Meccanici”, among others)
• Degrees of independence in the neorealist masters
• Italian auteurs re-visited under the “independence” lens
• The independent character of Ferrara’s ‘Centro Video Arte’, its films and screenings
• Self-financed and/or personal films at the margins of conventional practices
• From independence to corporatization: the histories of former small filmmaking firms
• Independence as technological transition or turns: from film gauges to video formats
• A look at the emergence of new and independent video practices of the 1980s
• Examples of the ‘ideological’ or ‘oppositional’ character of (militant) Italian cinema
• Examples of the alternative subjects and styles of independent Italian film
• The innovative and trendsetting character of independent filmmaking experiences
• Essays on singular independent film or video artists (i.e. Antonio Glessi, Paola Calogero, Andrea Zigoni, Caterina Davinio, Paolo Rosa,Floria Sigismondi, Fabrizio Plessi, Antonello Matarazzo etc.)
• The remarkably ’rounded’ independence of Silvano Agosti
• Studies of the “Circuiti D’Autori” initiatives from Puglie, Campania, Veneto etc.
• Independent films screened at art-centres or specialized venues such as the Torino Film Festival Giovani
• Italian traveling film festivals and Italian festivals around the world
• Alternative exhibition and programming practices of independent Italian cinema (i.e. cineclub, cinema d’essai, circoli culturali etc.)
• The distinct character of independent Italian cinema within the European panorama
• The “Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografia” and its impact on independent practices or experiences of single graduates
• Independent practices and cineastes aided by RAI as producer and Ministero dei Beni Culturali as a financing agency
• The role played by legislation (“Legge Alfieri”, “Legge Corona”, Fondo Unico dello Spettacolo, “Riforma” of 2004, etc.)
• Independent short or documentaries films, from both emerging filmmakers and masters of cinema
• New movements and/or ‘schools of thought’ stemming from independent practices

Useful bibliography

Allegretti, Elisa, Ginacarlo Giraud eds. Ermanno Olmi: L’esperienza di Ipotesti cinema. In collaborazione con CGS, Cinecircoli giovanili socioculturali. Recco (Genova): Le mani, 2001.

Amendola Alfonso. Videoculture. Storia, teoria ed esperienze artistiche dell’audiovisivo sperimentale / ‘Videocultures. History, theory and artistic experiences of the experimental audiovisual arts’, Latina: Tunué, 2010.

Aprà, Adriano. “La tecnologia del cinema italiano.” Paolo Bertetto, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Uno sguardo d’insieme. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2011. 225-278

Baltruschat, Doris, Mary Erickson eds. Independent Filmmaking around the Globe. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2015.

Bernardini, Aldo a cura di. Cinema italiano 1930-1995: le imprese di produzione. Roma: ANICA, 2000.

Bertetto, Paolo a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Uno sguardo d’insieme. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2011.

– e Andrea Minuz. “Le forme antirappresentative nel cinema italiano.” Paolo Bertetto, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Uno sguardo d’insieme. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2011. 117-146

Bondanella, Peter. A History of Italian Cinema. New York: Continuum, 2009.

Brunetta, Gian Piero. “From the 1970s to the Present – Cinematic Experimentations in the 1980s.” The History of Italian Cinema: A Guide to Italian Film from Its Origins to the Twenty-First Century. Princeton: PUP, 2009. 261-304

Cantini, Maristella edited. Italian Women Filmmakers and the Gendered Screen. New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2013.

Casetti, Francesco. “Il cinema italiano e la modernità. L’apertura degli orizzonti discorsivi, geografici e ideologici.” Paolo Bertetto, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Uno sguardo d’insieme. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2011. 381-393

Coco, Attilio. “Film sperimentali per la TV”. Flavio De Bernardinis, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XII – 1970/1976. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2008. 414-421

Corsi, Barbara. Con qualche dollaro in meno. Storia economica del cinema italiano. Roma: Editori Riuniti, 2001.

D’Agostini, Paolo. “Gli albori del ‘nuovo cinema’ anni ’90.” Vito Zagarrio, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XIII – 1977/1985. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2005. 217-233

De Bernardinis, Flavio a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XII – 1970/1976. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2008.

– “1970-1976: appunti per una mutazione.” Flavio De Bernardinis, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XII – 1970/1976. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2008. 3-26

– “Ipotesi per nuovi modelli di produzione e distribuzione.” 1970-1976: appunti per una mutazione.” Flavio De Bernardinis, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XII – 1970/1976. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2008. 478-485

Di Marino, Bruno. “Oltre l’underground. Il cinema di ricerca, il videotape, e l’animazione d’autore.” Flavio De Bernardinis, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XII – 1970/1976. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2008. 422-434

Fagone, Vittorio. L’immagine video: arti visuali e nuovi mezzi elettronici / ‘The video image: visual arts and new electronic media’, Milano: Feltrinelli, 1990.

– Michael Snow: cinema, installazioni, video, e arti visuali /’Michael Snow: Cinema, installations, video, and visual arts’, Lucca: Fondazione Ragghianti Studi sull’Arte, 2007.

Fagone, Vittorio et al. Arte del video, il viaggio dell’uomo immobile,videoinstallazioni, videoproiezioni / ‘Art of video, the journey of the immobile man, video-installations, video-projections’, Lucca: Fondazione Ragghianti Studi sull’Arte, 2004.

Fanchi, Mariagrazia e Federica Villa. “Sapere sociale, cinema e produzione di nuovi immaginari.” Paolo Bertetto, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Uno sguardo d’insieme. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2011. 433-444

Hoefert de Turégano, Teresa. “European Union Initiatives for Independent Film.” Doris Baltruschat, Mary Erickson eds. Independent Filmmaking Around the Globe. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2015.

Lischi, Sandra. “Senza chiedere permesso: il videotape e il cinema militante.” Vito Zagarrio, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XIII – 1977/1985. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2005. 91-102

– “Elettronica, videoarte e poetronica.” Vito Zagarrio, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XIII – 1977/1985. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2005. 457-471

Lombardo, Alessandro Paolo. Videomodernità. Eredità avanguardistiche e visioni ultracontempoanee tra video e arte /’Videomodernity. Avant-garde legacies and ultra-contemporary visions in-between video and art’, Roma: Aracne Editrice, 2010.

Madesani, Angela. Le icone fluttuanti. Storia del cinema d’artista e della videoarte in Italia / ‘The floating icons. History of cinema and of video art in Italy’, Milano: Bruno Mondadori, 2002.

Micciché, Lino. “Testimonianze e memorie degli anni 80.” Schermi opachi: il cinema italiano degli anni ’80. Venezia: Marsilio, 1998. 343-392

Quaglietti, Lorenzo. Storia economico-politica del cinema italiano. 1945-1980. Roma: Editori Riuniti, 1980.

Zagarrio, Vito. “I modi di produzione.” Paolo Bertetto, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Uno sguardo d’insieme. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2011. 147-166

– a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XIII – 1977/1985. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2005.

– a cura di. “Documenti. Nuove forme del consumo cinematografico: cineclub, cinema d’essai, Massenzio.” Vito Zagarrio, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Volume XIII – 1977/1985. Venezia: Marsilio, Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2005. 601-622

Zambetti, Sandro. “L’affermazione del cineclubismo.” Gianni Canova, a cura di. Storia del cinema italiano. Vol. XI – 1965/1969. Venezia: Marsilio-Edizioni di Bianco & Nero, 2003. 446-455

Giovanni Carsaniga (1934-2016)

Mon, 04 Apr 2016 07:54:00 GMT

Nerida Newbigin writes ...

Carsaniga’s curriculum was particularly suited to our needs. For his degree in Lettere at the University of Pisa he completed his ‘tesi di laurea’ with Luigi Russo – these were the days when an undergraduate thesis was comparable with an MA Hons and there was no doctoral degree – on the sixteenth-century writer of short stories Matteo Bandello. His ‘diploma di licenza’ from the Scuola Normale Superiore was in comparative literature with Giuliano Pellegrini, with a dissertation on John Ford’s The Broken Heart. His fellow ‘Normalisti’ included Giulio Lepschy, Carlo Sgorlon, Carlo Rubbia (Nobel Prize for Physics), and Dino Bressan. Immediately after graduation in 1956, he received a British Council grant to study in Britain, and his subsequent academic career was in the English-speaking world.

Carsaniga’s writing followed three strands that wove in and out of each other: literature, philosophy and language pedagogy. His publications included books and articles on Dante, Leopardi, Manzoni, Romanticism and Realism, as well as a very successful general history of Italian Literature, written for translation into German, Geschichte der italienischen Literatur: von der Renaissance bis zur Gegenwart (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer 1970), and the chapter on Romanticism for The Cambridge History of Italian Literature (1996, 1997, now on-line). He also published essays in Belfagor on moral and political questions and throughout his life was an inveterate writer of letters to the newspapers.

Leopardi’s interest in literature and philosophy and science helped to shape Carsaniga’s own thinking about the inadequacy of C.P. Snow’s dichotomy between the Two Cultures, scientific and humanistic. Various articles, including ‘Was Leopardi a scientist?’ in 1976, flowed on to his final book, The Lab and the Labyrinth: Science, the Humanities and the Unity of Knowledge , published in March 2016, just before his final illness.

In addition to his writings on Enlightenment and Romanticism, Carsaniga maintained a passionate interest in language: the Italian ‘Questione della Lingua’, questions of etymology and translation, of grammar and language pedagogy. His language textbooks Just Listen ’N Learn Italian, Breakthrough Italian, Italiano espresso, Incontri in Italia, and Avventura had extraordinary longevity and were revised and reissued by others long after Giovanni had moved on to other projects.

Moral and political values were always immensely important to Giovanni. Although he was quite agnostic he came armed with a solid protestant knowledge of the Bible and no fear of a fight. He was a strong unionist and had been staff union president at Sussex. As a colleague and administrator he was scrupulously fair and straightforward, sometimes clashing with others in his refusal to acquiesce in what he perceived as injustice. He was unfailingly generous to colleagues, students and friends. His collaborations with John Stinson on fourteenth-century music and with Jennifer Nevile on Renaissance dance bear witness to his enthusiasm and support.

Giovanni was born in Milan on 5 February 1934, the son of Arnaldo Camillo Carsaniga, a Methodist minister, and his wife Annamaria Visco-Gilardi. Arnaldo’s first parish was Rapolla, in the province of Potenza, but from 1942 to 1947, he was the Methodist minister in Salerno, just south of Naples, where Giovanni grew up as an only child in the manse, receiving Latin and music lessons from the organist who lived with the family. He became a skilled pianist and continued to play as long as his health permitted. Giovanni attended school first in Naples and then in La Spezia, before matriculating to the University of Pisa. Family history records both heroically Italian experiences: his grandmother received a candy from Giuseppe Garibaldi; and the truly exotic: his maternal grandfather had resided in Bedford Square as private secretary to Sir Anthony Hope Hawkins, author of the archetypal Ruritanian novel, The Prisoner of Zenda .

Giovanni’s first marriage to Anne-Marie Girolami ended in 1974. In 1975, shortly before his move to Perth, he married Pamela Risbey, and her twin sons, Tom and Paul, and her daughter, Greta Scacchi, accompanied them to Perth. Pamela had been a professional dancer in Paris, and ran a dance school in Haywards Heath and taught Italian. They met when Giovanni was recommended by the University of Sussex to take her O-Level students through to their A-Levels.

Giovanni and Pamela had a rare capacity to make new friends, and were initiated into the refined and fiendish game of croquet when they moved to Coogee. They were active walkers and had a smart silver campervan for holidays. Shortly before his retirement Giovanni noticed he was losing strength in his right hand and was diagnosed soon afterwards with a progressive neurological disorder. He brought his retirement forward slightly and he and Pamela returned to the UK, with the intention of dividing their time between their home in Hove and their London flat. By 2012 Giovanni was severely incapacitated by his condition and they moved back to London to a specially adapted home in Kennington where Giovanni continued to take a vigorous interest in all matters social, cultural, and political until the end of his life.

He died on Sunday 27 March 2016 from the complications of a persistent infection. He is survived by Pamela and family in the UK, Italy and Australia.

Se l’Italia non ci fosse… The view from the pitch

Sat, 02 Apr 2016 13:11:00 GMT

‘I am in the Osteria dell’Orso on the Friday evening before the 2016 Six Nations rugby match between Italy and England at the Stadio Olimpico in Rome. I am happily involved with a party of 20 or so of my son Will’s clients and sponsors, but, happier still, I am surrounded by Roman friends and team mates from my time in the 1970s when I was playing for Rugby Roma….

I tell them that they are all rascals and that they are not my friends. No, they are much more to me than friends – I tell them that they are my Roman family. I single out in particular Franco Gargiulo, who is not just my former captain but my Italian brother with whom I have been very close now for over 40 years. I also salute my gaolbird brother, Paolo Gargiullo, my cell-mate in Rome’s infamous Regina Coeli prison. We were both arrested after we broke up a fight between some locals and the visiting Cambridge University rugby team. They all escaped, but Paolo and I, along with another couple of Rugby Roma players, got banged up for a couple of days. Pretty grisly at the time, but it qualified me as an authentic Roman because, just as the true Cockney must be born within the sound of Bow Bells, only those who have been hosted by “The Queen of the Skies” can be regarded as true Romans….

The Greenwood cometh

The Greenwood family (me, Susan, Emma aged 6 and Willino aged 10 months) arrived at Ciampino Airport in August 1973 for me to take up the post of player-coach of Rugby Roma Olimpic Algida. Wow, was it hot; I thought we’d never survive. Well, we most certainly did, as I came for one year and we stayed for five, and to our great pride we remain today as part of the fabric of Roman rugby life. We Greenwoods are a very distinctive race – we are that extremely rare breed known as the Lancastro-Romani, with our hearts divided in equal measure between our rainy homeland of Lancashire, in the north-west of England, and the exquisite beauty of Rome and its wonderfully hospitable people.

Imagine swapping our wet and windy Ribble Valley for the splendours of Rome, with the sensational food, the glorious sunshine, the abundant wine and the fun and friendship of all our new friends – I think it’s what they call a no-brainer. Add to all that the immense benefit to us all of absorbing Italian culture and learning the world’s most beautiful language. We were told that the only place to live was among the expatriate community in Casal Palocco. “No,” we said, “we need to integrate and acclimatise as quickly as possible with the real Italy,” so we moved into a new apartment complex in Villa Bonelli, above Via della Magliana on the way out of Rome to Fiumicino Airport.

It wasn’t all plain sailing, though. I remember wanting to order a summer lunch-time “pasta alla checca,” but it came out as “pasta alla cacca,” which somehow wasn’t quite the same thing. Susan totally flummoxed a friend with her direction to turn left at the third fiammifero. Fiammifero? Semaforo? Ah, what the heck!

Then there was the driving. Imagine the culture shock for a buttoned-up, phlegmatic anglo-saxon when confronted with the Roman traffic. Handy tip – on the right is in the right. Imagine my excitement when, after a couple of months of glaring at the random horn pressers, I eventually succumbed and leant aggressively and unnecessarily on the horn. I can tell you that the relief was palpable as all those years of repression simply melted away and from then on I missed no opportunity to give it a blast, just for the hell of it. By the same token the general principle when parking seemed to be, “I’ve arrived, so I’ll stop anywhere, get out and get on with my day,” irrespective of discipline, available space or good order. But I drew the line at such an easy going attitude and remained true to my precision-parking, English upbringing – my Dad wouldn’t have had it any other way.

And why Rome, signor G?

So how did the rugby go? Steady a moment – how did I come to get to Rome in the first place? I bumped into Ian Robertson and Chris Rea at a rugby function in late 1972. Both were then recent Scottish international backs (both are now distinguished rugby administrators and broadcasters) and they told me of their adventures playing for London Scottish on Saturday, then flying to Italy to play for Roma on Sundays. They were really enjoying themselves but whilst the perks were handsome and substantial the pressures of all the travelling and two games every weekend were beginning to take their toll. The quality of the rugby wasn’t all that good either. “What they really need is a good coach,” they told me, “would you be interested?”

Without giving it much thought, I agreed to meet the Roma officials, who were coming over for the Barbarians v All Blacks game at Cardiff in January 1973. Not a bad game to travel for, what with Gareth Edwards’s “greatest try of all time” and all that, and Susan and I met them for dinner in London a couple of days later. I don’t know whether they made much of me, but they certainly took a shine to Susan and the next thing we knew we were on a flight to Rome to watch the last game of the season. I’ll draw a veil over the match, other than to note that the mass brawl (with Messrs Robertson and Rea as distant spectators) was the undoubted highlight, and that a last gasp Roma try was just enough to stave off relegation. However, the weekend was an absolute knock-out and, much to my surprise, Susan said, “Let’s do it,” so we did. (Flash forward: I would advise anyone thinking of taking a couple of young children and immersing the family in such a happy foreign culture, to seize the opportunity with both hands).

Days of flares and platform soles

We had a separate reception to meet the players and I polished up my script. Holding up a rugby ball, I announced that, “Questa balla è molta preziosa, è un diamondo.” Not even close, it sounded terrible and Luigi Mazzesi, the boss of Algida, the new heavyweight sponsors, chided me for not using an interpreter. He was right of course, but at the same time wholly wrong, because my feeble linguistic efforts marked me out as someone who was prepared to have a go and to work from within as best I could, not as an outsider but as someone who wanted to be accepted as one of them. As I remarked earlier, you blurt something out, no matter how poor the accent or the syntax, and the Italians will meet you more than half way.

Then I met Franco Gargiulo, “il capitano.” Franco commanded his space on the field of play and commanded the respect of friend and foe alike for his hardness and ultra-competitive character. We fell out early on, though, when at dinner on the eve of our first away game he announced that we would be eating “riso in bianco.” I told him that I hadn’t travelled 2500 km to the home of the world’s finest cuisine to eat riso in bianco. I demanded the finest filetto di manzo in the house and a bottle of the best red wine. That settled that, and from then on we forged a bond of friendship that endures to this very day.

If that was the first culture shock, then there were others to follow. Here’s number 2: we were walking through Treviso on the morning of the match when one of my burly mates in the back row linked arms with me. My first reaction was to shoot to the other side of the street but I soon learnt that it was fun to join in with this most tactile of societies. Culture shock number 3: game over and the first away win under our belts, we climbed aboard the team bus for the long journey home, when to my amazement and dismay I could only find a crate of bottled water. Troops were immediately despatched to rectify this error and they soon returned with plentiful supplies of beer – satisfaction achieved and good post-match practice established.

I made it my business to instigate a number of reverse culture shocks, all in my view thoroughly necessary when most of our away trips involved a 4/5 hour bus journey. I introduced the players to liar poker, scat, fizz-buzz and rummy (Greenwood rules) and I led the community singing with Swing Low (with actions), the Banana Boat Song, Crimond (with descant) and Cock Robin (modified version). They taught me the wonderful Italian repertoire of “ Roma non fa la stupida stasera ,” “ Arrivederci Roma ,” “ La società dei magnaccioni ,” “ Funiculì Funiculà ” and “La Norma” (much modified). This was when I morphed from intense and dedicated player-coach into choirmaster and the team CEO (Charabanc Entertainment Officer).

One of the highlights of our frequent long trips up north was our pit stop on the way back at a trattoria in the little village of Lastra Signa just off the autostrada near Florence. I can see it right now in my mind’s eye – papardelle alla lepre and bistecca alla Fiorentina all washed down with a fiasco of Chianti, followed by a sweet of macedonia with gelato. Like Pavlov’s dogs, I am salivating right now just at the thought of it.

The fitness stuff

One thing the game I watched on my earlier visit had taught me was that the levels of both fitness and basic technique were miles off the pace. Straightforward, then, that getting the players to an acceptable level of fitness would have to be priority number one – no use having the skills, if you didn’t have the puff to execute them. Strange to relate, one of the first Italian phrases I became familiar with was, “Ric, non ci riesco più.” Whilst I knew perfectly well what it meant, I refused to acknowledge it and I pushed them harder and harder. It helped that I was physically very fit and I had an ally in Mario Benigni, a fitness instructor and 800-metre runner, who could’ve left me for dead, but who also understood that, if we led from the front together, we would pull everyone else gradually closer to us. Clearly it wasn’t going to be an overnight success, but by late October we were starting to outlast all the other teams in Serie A.

There were emotional overtones in the behaviour of the “non ci riesco” brigade, which needed addressing. Not least, I sought to downplay the regular appearances of Latin temperament in what is fundamentally a very disciplined Anglo-Saxon sport: Marco knocks-on and turns to Giorgio, who has just passed him the ball, “How can a top player like me possibly play with an idiot like you, who can’t even pass the ball properly??” Try changing that attitude to one that acknowledges that mistakes happen but that the mark of a good player is how quickly he sorts it out and puts things right. In short, if it’s rubbish when it arrives with you, then it stays with you, and we all work our socks off to recover the position.

Technically we gradually worked through all our set piece routines, scrum, line-out and restarts, then the ruck and maul area, defensive systems, with loads of support handling in every training session and finally game management, so that by the Christmas break we were recognisable as a team with style, substance and an encouragingly competitive attitude. The progression of our results tells its own story: Lazio (h) lost 16-19; Treviso (a) won 9-4; Frascati (h) lost 12-15; Firenze (a) won 25-6; Genova (h) won 24-9; Padova, the reigning champions (a) lost 0-12; Rovigo (h) won 23-6. Making steady progress you might say. Two indicative results from the return matches in the second half of the season were beating Lazio (a) 18-10 and Padova 25-6 on our home turf at the Stadio Flaminio.

The 1974-5 season also went well. Again we came third in the table, with the most points scored (452) the most tries scored (70, 14 ahead of the number 2 team), the leading goal kicker (Giorgio Lari with 127) and the leading individual try scorer (me again, with 19 this time!) I don’t like to kick a bloke when he’s down, but 95-6 against Genova in December 1974 set all sorts of records, both for the club and for Italian rugby in general.

I snapped an Achilles tendon in the spring of 1975 which kept me out of the side for virtually the whole of the 1975-6 season, and the powers-that-were in the club decided that I should put my playing boots to one side and concentrate on coaching and bringing on the younger players. I should have seen the writing on the wall and 6 ^th place in the table, followed by 5 ^th in 1976-7 led to the inevitable high pressure sporting result – I got the sack! I was pretty aggrieved, particularly as my Roma Under 21 team had just won its first Italian Championship, having already been twice losing finalists.

Stars and super-stars

What a downer that might have been, but something else was stirring in Italian rugby at the time. Pierre Villepreux , the outstanding former French full-back had arrived from Stade Toulouse to coach the Italian National Team, Carwyn James , the uber successful coach of the 1971 Lions in New Zealand was coaching Rovigo, Brian Ashton , a great scrum half and visionary coach was player-coach in Milan and there was I, making up the numbers. We met frequently and it was a most exciting time for me to rub shoulders with rugby men of such high calibre.

It might rightly be construed that these super-coaches were responsible for the emergence of Italy as an eventual Six Nations participant. Their influence is undeniable, but the true resurgence of the game came much earlier in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War from 1945 onwards. There were vast numbers of Allied troops in residence and the soldiers from Australia, South Africa, New Zealand and the British Isles all got stuck into their rugby. It rubbed off on the locals and led to the first golden age of Italian rugby and a generation of gifted Italian rugby players. A positive corollary for me was that by the early 1970s they had arrived as the senior men on the rugby scene. Rugby Roma had won back-to-back National Championships in the late 1940s and these were the men I met in the spring of 1973, who brought the Greenwood family to Rome – I am forever in their debt. Franco Maria Gargiullo, Piero Marini, Umberto Silvestri, Fulvio Pitorri, Buby Farinelli and Peppe Pagni – all great friends of mine and an adventurous bunch of administrators.

The later advent of heavy club sponsorship brought some legendary figures into Italian rugby. The likes of Andy Hayden , David Campese and Michael Lynagh added a touch of stardust, but don’t forget the raft of outstanding rugby men I played with and against – Dai Cornwall (Wales), Nelson Babrow (South Africa), Clive Burgess (Wales), Brian Ashton (England), Ian McAlister (England), Des Newton (South Africa) and Richard Nurse (South Africa). A word on the subject of Ian McAlister, who, in the 1973-4 season, was not only a constant figure in mid-field, with an outrageous side-step, a cheeky dummy and a very useful habit of dropping goals just when they were most needed, but also a great personality, who acted as my link-man with his inside track to the pulse of the players. My success in the first season was made infinitely simpler by his immediate rapport with his team mates and his policy of total immersion in all things Roman. The older generation were mightily impressed that “a man of such slender physique could put away such industrial quantities of beer,” but I digress…..

In swamp and sun

Back to the plot, then. Lazio Rugby had spent a couple of years out of Serie A, but had just won promotion back to the top flight and they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. So, off I went to the other side of town with a handful of Roma players who had also been deemed surplus to requirements. The change of air did me a power of good and I found some extra bounce in my legs and some extra puff in my lungs and became a player-coach once again. What a sensational season we had. Competitive throughout, we scored loads of tries, won our fair share of games and broadly speaking lost narrowly to the big boys – a draw at Rovigo and a one point loss to them in Rome meant that I could certainly look Carwyn James in the eye. However, there were only 2 games that mattered to all of us at Lazio that season and, with fine dramatic timing, we would play Roma Algida on the last day of the outward half of the season and, naturally, again on the very last day of the programme.

We arrived at our ground at Acqua Acetosa in late January to find a paddy field after days of constant rain, to face an Algida team that had only dropped one point in the entire campaign so far, with a steamroller pack, anchored around All Black legend Andy Haden. I met a bunch of downcast lads in our dressing room, but don’t forget, I’m from rainy Lancashire and playing on a swamp like this was right up my strada. In these conditions, they can’t play and we don’t have to – the mud is our very best friend, so let’s chuck the kitchen sink at them (I just made that last bit up, because it doesn’t really translate into Italian, but you get my drift) and make their lives a misery. Well, lo, it came to pass, and we absolutely stuffed them 12-4, scoring 2 tries to one.

You won’t believe the next bit, though. The last day of the season was in late May in Rome’s beautiful spring sunshine. It couldn’t happen again, could it? Oh, yes it could – Roma Algida 10, Lazio 12. Winning my first cap was fantastic, the births of my 3 children all wonderful experiences, getting married, pretty damn’ good, but I tell you the feeling of utter, incandescent euphoria when the final whistle blew is right up there with the best of the best of my lifetime experiences. Apologies to Will Greenwood and the England rugby team at the World Cup Final in 2003, but you definitely come second!

For once, and probably for the only time in my life, I decided to get out at the top and took heed of the old Music Hall adage – always leave them wanting more. We returned to England in the late summer of 1978 having spent 5 exceptionally happy years in Rome, having acquired a host of friends, having become effectively a part of the Gargiulo and the Manni families, and carrying with us for the rest of our lives the memories of our most wonderful sojourn in the greatest city of all.

“Se l’Italia non ci fosse, dovremmo inventarla.”

This time, I arrive at the Stadio Olimpico for the 2014 Italy v England match and, as is my habit, I stroll over to the booth and buy myself a programme. I thumb through and towards the back there is an article entitled “Inglesi a Roma,” which catches my eye. I read about Keats and Shelley the poets, Turner the artist, the article talks about Shakespeare and Francis Drake and then I turn the page and there we are – action photos of both me and Will as great ambassadors for England and English rugby. I don’t care whether I am there by accident, maybe I am just a typo, but I do care that they remember me and that my pebble is still causing a little ripple in the rugby waters of Rome.

Thank you, thank you, to all my Roman friends and family.

Richard Greenwood

FOR THOSE WHO WOULD LIKE TO DOWNLOAD A VERSION IN PDF, CLICK HERE

Vale Umberto Eco (1932-2016)

Mon, 22 Feb 2016 21:34:00 GMT

A metal plaque set in the sidewalk at Circular Quay in Sydney commemorating author Umberto Eco as part of the Sydney Writers Walk series.

Umberto Eco visited Australia in 1982 to give lectures in Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane and Perth, mostly related to issues in his Theory of Semiotics (1976) and The Role of the Reader: Explorations in the Semiotics of Texts (1979). His visit is recorded in a plaque in his honour on the Sydney Writers Walk on Circular Quay which quotes his view (in a piece written for L’Espresso , 1982) of the Australia of that time: ‘L’Australia non è solo agli antipodi, è lontana da tutto, talora anche da se stessa‘. Interest in the Pacific appeared from time to time in his writings, from the essay in his first Diario minimo of 1963 (‘Industria e repressione sessuale in una società padana’) to L’isola del giorno prima (1995) and probably beyond. La Repubblica XL has included this scene from Davide Ferrario’s 2015 documentary Umberto Eco, Sulla memoria. Una conversazione in tre parti , in its farewell to a truly extraordinary scholar and public intellectual.

Vale Ettore Scola (1931-2016)

Thu, 21 Jan 2016 09:17:00 GMT

Italian director Ettore Scola posing on the red carpet during the 10th Rome Film Festival in Rome, 18 October, 2015.

All Italianists and indeed film-lovers everywhere will have been saddened by the news of the recent death of Ettore Scola - ' il poeta che amava la democrazia ' - in Rome on 19 January 2016. Coming after the deaths of Mario Monicelli in 2010 and Carlo LIzzani in 2013, Scola's passing marks the definitive end of the era of the great screenwriter-directors of the golden age of Italian post-war cinema.

Born at Avellino in Campania in 1931, Scola moved to Rome in the immediate post-war years and enrolled first in medicine and then in law at the University of Rome. His patent talent for comic sketches and cartoons, however, soon drew him to work for the satirical magazine, Marc’Aurelio . There he met and befriended a host of other comic writers and cartoonists who would later become leading figures in the Italian film industry, including Stefano Vanzina (Steno), Cesare Zavattini, Federico Fellini, Furio Scarpelli and Ruggero Maccari. Beginning in the 1950s, often in partnership with Maccari and later Scarpelli, he penned the screenplays of dozens of award-winning comic films, collaborating with many of the foremost directors of the period in creating the much-loved home-grown genre of the commedia all’italiana . In 1964 he made his own directorial debut with Se permettete parliamo di donne (Let’s Talk About Women), a series of mordant comic sketches highlighting the defects of the Italian male, incarnated by Scola’s favourite actor, Vittorio Gassman. In the early 1970s he made several more overtly-political films before directing what for many is both his most accomplished film and one of the highest points of the comedy Italian-style, C’eravamo tanto amati (We All Loved Each Other So Much, 1974). Already renowned in Italy and throughout Europe as a first-rate director of comedies, in 1977 he achieved international fame with what has remained his most critically-acclaimed film, Una giornata particolare (A Special Day). The moving story of a chance encounter between a harried housewife (Sophia Loren) and a homosexual radio journalist (Marcello Mastroianni) on a rather particular day in Fascist Italy, the film received a slew of awards, including two Academy Award nominations and a nomination for the Cannes Palme d’or.

Appearing generally unaffected by the crisis that decimated the Italian film industry in the following two decades, Scola was able to direct another dozen fine films. After experimenting with digital film in Gente di Roma (People of Rome, 2003), an affectionate portrait of some of Rome’s zanier inhabitants written in collaboration with his two daughters, Paola and Silvia, Scola quietly withdrew from active filmmaking for the next decade although he had recently returned to the Cinecittà studios in order to film Che strano chiamarsi Federico (How Strange To Be Named Federico, 2013), a fictional documentary celebrating Federico Fellini and the other denizens of the Marc’Aurelio of the early days.

While lamenting his passing, all lovers of Italian cinema will undoubtedly light a mental candle to his memory in gratitude for so many wonderful films. Vale Ettore Scola.

Access Granted: Modern Languages and Issues of Accessibility at University

Thu, 14 Jan 2016 08:36:00 GMT

Josh Brown and Marinella Caruso write ...

Previous attempts to open up language study to new students have had some success in Australia. These initiatives include combining language study with another study area, introducing a ‘Diploma of Languages’, offering a Year 12 language bonus for university entry and the introduction of a specific Bachelor of Languages at some universities. Although the new structures at the University of Melbourne and at UWA have been the most successful in opening up access to languages, structural restrictions continue to limit access to language study.

According to the Mapping the Humanities report released in 2014 by the Australian Academy of the Humanities, “the biggest increases in language enrolments in individual universities have occurred where many of these restrictions have been tempered or removed”. Making degree structures more flexible has led to new cohorts of students accessing language study for the first time. The introduction of ‘ breadth subjects ’ or ‘ broadening’ units ’ in degrees has seen students selecting languages for these subjects – and recent research shows that they are doing so in massive numbers.

Identifying who these new students are, which subjects they are taking and how much progress they make with language learning is part of our ongoing work. So far, the key finding from this research has been that the study of a language at university is directly related to issues of access and degree structure. Remove the barriers and languages will flourish.

Enfilade, Venetian Painting, Remembering David Rosand

Wed, 13 Jan 2016 08:09:00 GMT

Here is an item from a recent issue of the newsletter Enfilade that will interest ACIS readers ( Enfilade is edited by the tireless and ineffably charming Craig Hanson who keeps everyone in eighteenth-century studies, especially art and architecture, informed about what is going on in the way of exhibitions, conferences and publications). It signals the opening this week of a Venetian painting exhibition, In Light of Venice: Venetian Painting in Honor of David Rosand , at the Otto Naumann Gallery , New York, which lasts until 12 February 2016. The title recalls the distinguished art historian of Renaissance Venice who died in 2014 and in whose honour a new Italian professorship is to be established at Columbia University. Some of the profits from the exhibition will be donated to the David Rosand Tribute Fund at the university to support the position.

As the Meyer Schapiro Professor of Art History at Columbia University, Rosand was an inspirational teacher, but for those who did not have the fortune of hearing him lecture, his books were invaluable for gaining an understanding of the art of Venice. That was certainly the case for me as an undergraduate at the University of Sydney, where my eyes were opened to the glories of Venetian painting in large part through Rosand’s writings. Further details on his work at Columbia and the Tribute Campaign can be found here , and there is a warm in memoriam piece to Rosand on the College Art Association website.

ACIS Postgraduate Scholarships for Research in Italy, 2016

Mon, 04 Jan 2016 08:37:00 GMT

ACIS congratulates Tara Auty (UWA), Catherine Blake (Sydney) and Jessica O’Leary (Monash) on being awarded ACIS Cassamarca scholarships for postgraduate research in Italy in 2016. Tara Auty will be working on ‘ Community Emotions and Genre: Italian Neo-Latin Epic and the Fall of Constantinople ‘; Catherine Blake on ‘ Unstable Ground: Vitale Da Bologna between Form and Modality ‘; and Jessica O’Leary, who was awarded the inaugural Dino De Poli Scholarship, on ‘ Women and Kinship Diplomacy: Negotiation, Gift Exchange, and News in the Familial Network of the Aragonese of Naples ‘. Descriptions of their projects can be found here . The Scholarships Committee noted that the applications were again of a very high standard and regretted that its budget prevented it from making more than three awards.

Assessing creativity

Mon, 28 Dec 2015 21:41:00 GMT

Andrea del Sarto: Portrait of a Young Man (c.1517-1518), National Gallery, London. Wikimedia commons.

From the transcript of an early research assessment exercise in the field of art history: ‘Professor Vasari, would you like to lead off for the panel on the work of Andrea del Sarto? I see he is currently exhibiting those odd drawings of his in New York.’ ‘Thank you, Chair, yes, at the Frick. Ah, the divine Andrea! Not the truly divine, I should say at once …. a certain timidity of spirit … a lack of elaboration perhaps, even of grandeur … a rare spirit of course ..’ ‘Yes, yes, Professor, fewer words and more numbers, please: what would you give him – 4* world-leading quality or is he just an ordinary 2* internationally-recognised chappie?’ ‘Difficult, Chair, such an odd fellow, prefers Florence to Paris, but certainly a scholar, a master of sfumato too. Perhaps the panel might consider a 3*?’. ‘Thank you, Professor. Our consultant, Professor Rowland , has been rather more generous about his work. Sublime, she says, exhilarating too…’.

One more time: the kidnapping and murder of Aldo Moro

Tue, 15 Dec 2015 17:05:00 GMT

In this particular case, the committee’s large cross-party membership of 60 parliamentarians and senators from 14 different parties suggests it has no greater likelihood of reaching agreement than its predecessor. Most members are unfamiliar with the details of the Moro case (with the exception of the PD’s Miguel Gotor, the author of a brilliant analysis of the letters Moro wrote from his ‘people’s prison'[1]) and will have to form their views through the facts, speculations and fantasies contained in the huge volume of documentation. In its first year the committee has already gathered half-a-million documents, mostly drawn from the archives of the three earlier committees (the archives of the 1988-2001 enquiry housed 1.5 million documents) and from the six judicial investigations into the kidnapping and murder. It has very limited resources (€70,000 to cover 2014-2016) to initiate substantial new enquiries or to employ consultants to do so (those recruited so far have worked free of charge). Apart from the task of organising the documents, which necessarily include many of dubious relevance and reliability, the committee’s activities have essentially been twofold: delegating specific enquiries to technical experts, and holding hearings of politicians (mainly current ministers and senior members of the previous Moro enquiries), magistrates involved in the investigations of political violence ( inter alia Infelisi, Caselli, Spataro, Imposimato, Priore), and authors of detailed analyses of the Moro case (Clementi, Satta [2]).

Is there anything to be discovered? Connoisseurs of controversies over the details of what happened in Via Fani will recognise some old favourites in those hearings: the presence around 9am of Colonel Guglielmi, suspected of having links to the security services, who claimed to be on the way to a lunch appointment nearby; the suspicious passage of a Honda motorbike with two passengers (“Peppo” and “Peppa”) at the moment of the attack; the supposedly missing roll(s) of film containing potentially relevant photos; and the possible involvement of organised crime via the alleged sighting in Via Fani of Antonio ‘due nasi’ Nirta from Calabria. Other endlessly disputed features make their appearance too: the role of the founders of the language school Hyperion in Paris; the location, perhaps locations, of the ‘people’s prison’ where Moro was held hostage; the suspected involvement of the criminologist Giovanni Senzani; and the alleged infiltration of the BR by the security services from the beginning. Not surprisingly, nearly forty years after the kidnapping, the testimonies (today) of eyewitnesses (then) often disagree with one another and sometimes also with the witnesses’ own previous testimonies. Listing these discrepancies, and the incompatibility of each one with the details provided in an insider’s account (Morucci’s ‘memoriale’ of 1990), ensures that the events of March to May 1978 maintain a continuing sense of mystery.

The committee concludes its report on that note: ‘….. ancora oggi – a 37 anni di distanza dai tragici avvenimenti di Via Fani – il caso Moro presenta aree inesplorate e meritevoli di approfondimento’ (p.363). Apart from resolving the puzzles of the missing or contradictory details, the committee will now start to examine the nature of the relations of the BR with members of the police and security services and with sympathisers from the ‘alta borghesia dell’epoca’. Adding a new line of enquiry, it will also consider whether the legislation encouraging militants to turn state’s evidence ( la legislazione premiale ) may have prompted its beneficiaries to agree on a single version of events which deliberately concealed vital details and allowed some participants to evade detection.

Notes

1. M. Gotor, Aldo Moro: Lettere dalla prigionia (Einaudi, 2008).

2. V.Satta, Odissea nel caso Moro. Viaggio controcorrente attraverso la documentazione della Commissione Stragi (EDUP, 2003; Il caso Moro e i suoi falsi misteri (Rubbettino, 2006).

Living like nomads

Tue, 08 Dec 2015 08:31:00 GMT

Despite the considerable research on Italian anarchism conducted over the last forty years little is known about the history of the anarchists and anarchism in Milan. To fill this gap, Fausto Buttà’s Living Like Nomads: The Milanese Anarchist Movement Before Fascism (Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2015) examines the political and ideological debates and the lifestyles of anarchist militants in Milan during the two decades before the rise of Fascism. In addition to its historical value, this study of the history of anarchism contributes to an understanding of the modern Left and the values of freedom, justice and equality. The table of contents and the introduction are available here .

Living Like Nomads analyses anarchist thought, particularly the relationship between theories of individualism and communist anarchism, and engages with the work of Bakunin, Malatesta, Stirner and Kropotkin. By bringing to light the lives of Milan’s unknown anarchists, it reveals their pivotal role within the eclectic Italian Left. They established the first non-denominational modern school, campaigned against militarism, engaged with the labour movement, and published extensively. They matched practice to theory by providing the first instance of anti-Fascist resistance when they stood up against the violence of Mussolini’s black shirts after the First World War.

Fausto Buttà is an Honorary Research Fellow at the University of Western Australia, where he also teaches Italian language and contemporary history. Born in Milan, Fausto moved to Western Australia in 2003, and has spent the past decade researching Italian anarchism.

Pope Francis, the Year of Mercy and Vatican II

Mon, 16 Nov 2015 09:32:00 GMT

Max Vodola , Catholic Theological College, Melbourne

Recently Pope Francis announced a Year of Mercy for the Catholic Church commencing on 8 December 2015 - the Feast of the Immaculate Conception - and concluding on the Feast of Christ the King, 20 November 2016. This jubilee picks up a number of key themes emphasised by the Pope since the start of his pontificate: a Church called to go to the margins, a particular concern for the poor and the marginalised, the injunction for priests and bishops to have 'the smell of the sheep' on them by leaving the comfort of their offices and sacristies, and the Church called to be a 'field hospital' that heals the wounds and warms the hearts of the faithful. In demanding a more humble CHurch, Pope Francis is modelling what spiritual writers call 'servant leadership', giving immense power and prestige to his office precisely by forsaking the many trappings of a monarchical papacy that have evolved over centuries, but in fact have little to do with the Gospel.

The real surprise came in his announcement of the Second Vatican Council and his opening address on 11 October 1962. He decried the ‘prophets of doom’ operating in the Roman Curia and insisted that the punctum saliens of the council was that the doctrine of the Church ‘be studied and presented through the forms of enquiry and literary formulation of modern thought’. The pope wanted a new language and style for what he discerned was a new historical epoch for the Church and the world of the early 1960s. He stated ‘at the present time, the Spouse of Christ prefers to use the medicine of mercy rather than the weapons of severity’. This was a radically new language for the Church: American Jesuit historian John O’Malley insists that Vatican II was ‘a language event’. Severity in the Church was very much in evidence in the early part of the twentieth century when so-called ‘modernist’ theologians were reported to Rome, suspended from their teaching positions, had publications banned and placed on the Index of Prohibited Books and in some cases were excommunicated. As a young priest-historian in Bergamo, Angelo Roncalli was denounced to Rome on suspicion of modernism and warned that his teaching position was in jeopardy.

The pope of Vatican II used prophetic words and gestures, spontaneous and direct speech as a new ‘pastoral’ mode for the Church of the twentieth century. Centuries of censures and condemnations were now to give way to a new mode of language that seriously and deliberately used dialogue as a tool for theological discourse. On the 50 ^th anniversary of the close of Vatican II, Pope Francis by his own admission has stated that he wishes to keep the event of Vatican II alive and recover so much of the rich theology that seems to dominate the language and pastoral style of his papacy. The rich theology of Vatican II is seen most clearly in its documents such as the Constitution on Divine Revelation ( Dei Verbum ) which states, ‘the Council wants the whole world to hear the summons to salvation, so that through hearing it may believe, through belief it may hope, through hope it may come to love’.

Venetian Old Master Drawings, and a Contemporary Response, at the Ashmolean, Oxford

Fri, 13 Nov 2015 08:38:00 GMT

Giovanni Battista Piazzetta (1682-1754), Head of a Youth © Ashmolean Museum

A major early-modern Venetian drawing exhibition has opened at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford. Focusing on works from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century, Titian to Canaletto: Drawing in Venice should be a visual delight. Considering other recent exhibitions on this subject in Venice , LA , and New York (both in 2012 and 2013-14, as reviewed here ), however, the museum’s emphasis on its “ground breaking” attention to the role drawing played for Venetian artists is perhaps a tad overstated. Nevertheless, when it comes to the art of Venice, the more shows the merrier.

This is particularly the case when exhibitions bring to view drawings that are often sequestered in archives away from the public’s gaze. Each opportunity to look closely at such works brings with it the chance of new understanding of aspects of art and humanity. And unlike the previously mentioned exhibitions, where the works were all drawn from US collections, the Ashmolean is displaying its own drawings alongside loans from the Uffizi in Florence and Oxford’s Christ Church. This will create the UK’s first prominent exhibition devoted to the drawings of the Venetian Old Masters.

Jenny Saville, Red Muse (study) , 2012-15
© Jenny Saville. Courtesy Gagosian Gallery. Private Collection

The idea of encounter and rediscovery also informs an exhibition taking place alongside Titian to Canaletto . For Jenny Saville Drawing , the contemporary British artist has created works that respond to the Venetian art of the past. To my shame I knew very little about Jenny Saville, a painter linked to the Young British Artists group that emerged in the late 1980s and early 1990s, but her engagement with early-modern Italian artworks immediately brought to mind the artistic approach of the late Jo-Anne Duggan , a photographer that many readers will know as closely connected to ACIS.

Although Duggan’s large photographic images of the contemporary visitor’s interaction with historic Italian interiors and Saville’s often monumental oil paintings of fleshly female bodies would seem to have little in common, each artist has been inspired by the art of Renaissance Italy. Saville has recounted how she was encouraged as a young girl to pursue art by her uncle, an art historian and fellow painter, and that he took her to Venice where she was able to confront the sensual images of painters such as Titian and Tintoretto in person. Such immersive experiences, for Saville and Duggan, have contributed to their creation of intensely physical, visceral works of art.

Titian (1485/90-1576), Portrait of a young woman
© Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe degli Uffizi, Florence

After researching Saville’s work, what struck me about both her and Duggan is their mutual concern with the layering of time and materiality within an image. Duggan’s photographs capture, in what she termed “a peculiar act of doubling”, the collision of the past life of the historic buildings with the presence of the contemporary visitor. Similarly, Saville will at times work intermittently on individual paintings, overlaying and building upon earlier brushwork to create a patchwork of bodily forms.

In an interview with The Telegraph last year, Saville articulated part of the philosophy behind her work, a view that doesn’t seem unreasonable to think Duggan would have shared: “I like this idea of a culture in fragments. … This idea of strata, of layers of images seen through time, of images within images, it’s like the way we see the world through computers: not as a single reality, but many realities at the same time.”

Over the next couple of months at the Ashmolean it should be stimulating to see how Saville’s repeated blanketing of bodily forms over bodily forms in response to the drawings of the Old Masters adds its own layer to Venetian art history.

Titian to Canaletto: Drawing in Venice and Jenny Saville Drawing will be on view at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford until 10 January 2016; from the press release it looks as though Titian to Canaletto will then head to the Uffizi in spring 2016.

A very normal man: Italy, 1976

Mon, 09 Nov 2015 08:58:00 GMT

Dr Isobel Grave is the Cassamarca lecturer in Italian Studies at the University of South Australia with a special interest in the theory and practice of translation. Copies of A Very Normal Man (Wakefield Press, S.A., 2015) will be available for purchase on the evening at the special price of $18.

New Honorary Research Associates

Mon, 02 Nov 2015 17:44:00 GMT

ACIS is very pleased that Josh Brown and Alessandro Carrieri have accepted appointments as Honorary Research Associates . Dr Brown has interests in language in both historical and contemporary contexts. Using materials from the archives of merchants, he has analysed variations in language use in 14thC and 15thC Milan; he has written on the life and letters of a cardinal in mid-19thC Western Australia; and he has explored factors in Italian language enrolments in current tertiary education. Dr Carrieri, whose doctoral research was on music, memory and resistance among Jewish musicians in concentration camps and ghettos, has been a Visiting Research Fellow in Holocaust Studies at the Australian Centre for Jewish Civilisation (Monash). His current research concerns the history of the persecution and expulsion of Italian Jewish musicians and composers from conservatories and theatres during Fascist rule; he has recently organised a conference in Trieste on that topic.

The weather in the Roman streets

Tue, 20 Oct 2015 07:56:00 GMT

Glimpsed a classical fashion icon as you sipped your cappuccino in Piazza Navona? Been queue-jumped at the ticket office by a louche member of the Mount Olympus club? Had a funny thing happen to you on the way to the forum? Travis McKenna has been making poetry out of such encounters ….

Site of Resistance: The Popular Piety of Santa Maria delle Carceri in Prato

Wed, 23 Sep 2015 13:32:00 GMT

Shannon Gilmore-Kuziow writes:

This summer I enjoyed a month-long sojourn in Florence to expand my dissertation project on Central Italian miraculous image cults established in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, specifically the cult of Santa Maria delle Carceri in Prato.

My trip got off to a promising start: I had the good fortune to attend the special Mass marking the anniversary of Santa Maria delle Carceri's first miracle. I was immediately grateful that I had arrived early to snag a seat, as the interior of Giuliano da Sangallo's church was bursting at the seams with the faithful whose eyes were fixed on the miraculous image of the Virgin and Child with Saints Leonard and Stephen (c. 1350) above the high altar. The cult's continuing significance to the diocese of Prato was immediately evident as a television cameraman ducked in and out of the tightly packed crowd to capture a perfect shot of the bishop who proudly wore a vestment bearing a screen-printed copy of the Marian image.

'Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints Leonard and Stephen' ("Santa Maria delle Carceri"),

fourteenth century, fresco, Basilica of Santa Maria delle Carceri, Prato.

However, my interest did not lie in the glow of the camera lights or in the names of the local government officials flanking the bishop. Instead, my best memory from that day was of the sacristan who, prior to the ceremony, shoved a stack of books into my arms in his excitement of discovering another person interested in his beloved Madonna delle Carceri. I was drawn to the individuals in the crowd, to the everyday people whose devotion initially ignited the cult. For that reason my dissertation focuses not on those players in the cult’s history who basked in the limelight but rather on those who remained in the shadows.

Their story begins on July 6th 1484 when a young boy was attempting to catch a cricket in a field just inside the town walls of Prato, where he suddenly witnessed the transfiguration of a fresco adorning the Commune’s abandoned prison. The image known as Santa Maria delle Carceri stood above a barred window opening onto the crumbling gaol. According to the boy, the Virgin removed herself from the wall to climb down into and clean the lower cells. [i] Following the boy’s testimony, the people of Prato and the surrounding countryside flocked to the prison to pay homage to the Virgin. Meanwhile the local government’s swift appeal to the Pope procured them sole control over the cult, and planning was soon underway for the construction of a church to enshrine the image. In 1485 Lorenzo de’ Medici managed to place his family’s stamp of possession on the popular Marian cult through his substitution of the Commune’s chosen architect with his own: Giuliano da Sangallo. [ii] While most scholars of Santa Maria delle Carceri tend to focus their energies on this Medicean intervention, my dissertation centers on the cult’s etiology which I argue was rooted in the popular piety of the oppressed members of society.

My primary documentary evidence consists of the cult’s two miracle books which contain valuable information regarding the various rituals enacted by the devotees. The first miracle book dates to 1487 and is a transcription of an earlier account by Andrea di Giuliano del Germanino, a man who sold candles at the shrine. Meanwhile, in 1505, a local magistrate, Giuliano Guizzelmi, drew from and elaborated on del Germanino’s text to compile a second compendium of miracles. [iii] According to both manuscripts, people’s ritualistic behavior was directed toward not only the original miraculous image but also its reproductions in the form of lead and paper tokens. [iv] Thus, in order to improve our understanding of the devotees’ interactions with Madonna delle Carceri’s various incarnations, my investigation considers ritual in terms of its relationship to diverse artistic media, the senses, and contemporary natural philosophical theories.

In addition to providing insight into the nature of the popular piety surrounding the Marian cult, the miracle books, together with a study Prato’s economic history, reveal the impoverishment of the cult’s original site and a large part of its devotees. Guizzelmi offers a detailed description of the prison’s crumbling ruins which are found in a field overgrown with nettles, overrun with lizards and serpents, and “open to many wicked things.” ^[v] Living within this rather unsavory district were Prato’s laborers, the majority of whom were poor or completely destitute. [vi] Meanwhile, the cult of Santa Maria delle Carceri attracted peasants living in other areas of the Florentine territory, the rural lands of which were crippled by severe taxation and sharecropping. [vii] Thus the original site and the cult’s initial adherents remained distanced from, and invisible to, the dominant structures of power. However, with the advent of the new cult, the city’s religious and social focus adjusted to include the periphery into the central fold as the foot traffic running through Prato’s impoverished district intensified and diversified. I therefore argue that the people employed popular piety in order to carve out a sacred space within their own neighborhood.

The upsurge of popular devotion in Prato was not an isolated case but rather part of a widespread phenomenon that began at the end of the fifteenth century, when the Tuscan and Umbrian countryside witnessed the flowering of Marian image cults. [viii] In an effort to understand Prato’s place within this larger socio-religious development, the current phase of my research is dedicated to a comparative study of these other rural cults. My summer in Italy included a lengthy road trip to visit the numerous image cults scattered throughout Central Italy. There I continued to meet devotees eager to share with me the history and traditions connected to their own miraculous images, making it evident that people’s fierce sense of ownership of, and personal identification with, their local Marian images has survived to the present day.

Notes

[i] Giuliano Guizzelmi, “I Miracoli della Madonna delle Carcere di Prato De’ Ghibellini,”in Santa Maria delle Carceri a Prato: Miracoli e devozione in un santuario toscano del Rinascimento , ed. Anna Benvenuti (Florence: Mandragora, 2005), 136–137; Claudio Cerretelli, “Da oscura prigione a tempio di luce: La costruzione di Santa Maria delle Carceri a Prato,” in Santa Maria delle Carceri a Prato: Miracoli e devozione in un santuario toscano del Rinascimento , ed. Anna Benvenuti (Florence: Mandragora, 2005), 51.

[ii] Paul Davies, “The Early History of S. Maria delle Carceri in Prato,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 54, no. 3 (September 1995): 326-329; Cerretelli, “Da oscura prigione a tempio di luce,” 51.

[iii] Isabella Gagliardi, “I miracoli della Madonna delle Carceri in due codici della Biblioteca Roncioniana di Prato,” in Santa Maria delle Carceri a Prato: Miracoli e devozione in un santuario toscano del Rinascimento , ed. Anna Benvenuti (Florence: Mandragora, 2005), 97–98.

[iv] Andrea di Giuliano del Germanino, “Cronica 1484,” in Santa Maria delle Carceri a Prato: Miracoli e devozione in un santuario toscano del Rinascimento , ed. Anna Benvenuti (Florence: Mandragora, 2005); Guizzelmi, “I Miracoli della Madonna delle Carcere.”

^[v] Guizzelmi, “I Miracoli della Madonna delle Carcere,” 136.

[vi] Guido Pampaloni, “Popolazione e società nel centro e nei sobborghi,” in Prato: Storia di una città , ed. Fernand Braudel (Prato: Comune di Prato, Le Monnier, 1986), 375, 388.

[vii] According to del Germanino, all of the people of Prato and the contado answered the frequent summons of the cult’s bell, which announced either mass or the image’s transfiguration. del Germanino, “Cronica 1484,” 121–132; Guizzelmi, “I Miracoli della Madonna delle Carcere,” 137-153 ; Daniel R. Curtis, “Florence and Its Hinterlands in the Late Middle Ages: Contrasting Fortunes in the Tuscan Countryside, 1300–1500,” Journal of Medieval History 38, no. 4 (December 2012): 8–11, 15-18.

[viii] Megan Holmes, The Miraculous Image in Renaissance Florence (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013), 115.

Agnelli, Pirelli, Brambilla? No. Hu, Chen, Zhang…

Wed, 26 Aug 2015 14:36:00 GMT

Postscript to the call for papers on relations between China and Italy (August 26). HERE are the names of the most common surnames among the entrepreneurs who set up new businesses in Italy in the first 8 months of this year. The Camera di Commercio of Monza and Brianza examined a sample of 7 regions […]

Researching Italians in Australia: war and internment

Wed, 26 Aug 2015 07:21:00 GMT

So far the research has generated several publications, including journal articles (‘On the Wrong Side of the Law (War): Italian civilian internment in Australia’, International Journal of the Humanities, 2012; ‘Italian Civilian Internment in South Australia Revisited’, Journal of the Historical Society of South Australia, No. 41, 2013, pp.65-79), a conference paper, and a report for Museum Victoria to be completed in 2015. An edited book with the working title Hidden Lives: Italian internment experiences in Austra li a is scheduled for publication in late 2015 and will include contributions by academics and by members of the families of internees.

Rizzoli Bookstore Reopens in NYC

Tue, 04 Aug 2015 16:42:00 GMT

Sally Grant writes ...

The old Rizzoli Bookstore on 57th St, NYC
© Rizzoli Bookstore

Book – and bookshop – lovers of the world rejoice! After closing the doors of its beloved 57th Street store last year, Rizzoli New York opened a new flagship in the NoMad district of Manhattan last Monday. While this location, in the nineteenth-century St. James Building at 1133 Broadway, may not be able to replace the now-lost historic charm of its predecessor, with its famed vaulted ceilings (the building has since been demolished to make way for a luxury development – who’d have thought it?), for an independent bookstore to re-open these days is an event to be celebrated.

I haven’t visited the bookshop as yet but Rizzoli reports that a number of fixtures from the old space have been incorporated into the store – including its elegant chandeliers and cherry-wood bookshelves – and photographs accompanying the announcement reveal a new detail that looks like a particularly captivating addition.

The Milan design firm Fornasetti and British wallpaper makers Cole & Son were commissioned to create wallpaper that has been placed between the top of the bookshelves and the eighteen-foot-high ceiling, enveloping the store’s three ground-floor rooms. Presumably in reference to the Italian parentage of Rizzoli New York (it is part of the RCS MediaGroup headquarted in Milan), the whimsical design includes such details as Italian cities drifting through the air.

Detail of the Rizzoli Bookstore wallpaper © Daniel Melamud

What struck me from Daniel Melamud’s photograph of the wallpaper, however, were the inflatable balloons among the clouds as, coincidentally enough, I had been reading about the advent of hot-air ballooning during the eighteenth century just the other day.

In its entry on the subject, the Encyclopedia of the Enlightenment tells me that in his book The Invention of Liberty , Jean Starobinski chose Francesco Guardi’s painting Ascent of a Balloon over the Giudecca Canal in Venice as the symbol of the Enlightenment. A drawing related to this work was included in the Morgan Library’s 2013-14 exhibition, Eighteenth-Century Venetian Drawings , which I discussed in a previous ACIS post .

Francesco Guardi, Ascent of a Balloon in Venice , oil on canvas, 1784. Image source: WikiArt

In the Encylopedia , Michel Delon writes that for Starobinski the subject matter of Guardi’s painting demonstrates “a victory of will and knowledge over the ponderousness of matter and tradition, but also a triumph of celebration and pleasure over serious-mindedness.”¹

Perhaps the designers at Fornasetti had Starobinski’s text in mind when designing the bookshop’s wallpaper – it was, after all, published in 1964 by Skira, which is now part of Rizzoli publishing. Whatever the case may be, the imagery of the free-flying balloons is suitably apt in conveying the soaring flights of imagination and discovery upon which books can take a reader. That there is one more physical location from which to start these journeys is another triumph.

For those who would like to know more about the bookstore’s new location, there is a good, and amusing, account in a Wall Street Journal article from last year.

¹ Michel Delon, “Ballooning,” in Encyclopedia of the Enlightenment , edited by Michel Delon (Abingdon: Routledge, 2013), 154.

Italy, Somalia: poetry and politics

Tue, 19 May 2015 08:05:00 GMT

The literature in Italian by Somali writers has recently been explored in some detail (Lori 2013). But cultural creativity in Somalia itself, and the ways in which it was affected by and responded to Italian colonialism, has received less attention. Somali Oral Poetry and the Failed She-Camel Nation State by Ali Mumin Ahad (Peter Lang, […]

Jo-Anne Duggan Essay Prize 2015

Fri, 15 May 2015 08:48:00 GMT

Crystal Filep’s original watercolour, Intersection Unbounded , and exegesis on Michelangelo’s Porta Pia and the Dioscuri represent a reflection on how the personal and the cultural, the historic and the contemporary, intersect within the context of a changing urban setting. Filep breaks with convention to explore her subject matter through imagination, focusing in particular on the ‘spaces in-between’. As such, her approach engages with what she calls ‘the mediative role of architecture’, aligned with Jo-Anne Duggan’s approach of “a slower, more considered engagement with art”. Filep shows how her creative practice conjures both meanings and questions as she teases out the interplay between imagination and stories from often overlooked spaces.

Kyra Giorgi conceptualises the experience of Italian migration to Australia in the post-war era as one that involves ‘negotiating spaces of absence and emptiness’ as opposed to a simplistic linear view. Her discussion finds resonance with Jo-Anne Duggan’s Sites of Convergence exhibition, wherein several public spaces evoke structures of expectation, engagement and even ‘chaos’. Giorgi takes Duggan’s insights further by contemplating ‘those more temporal sites of convergence’ inherent in the processes of migrancy. Citing oral migrant accounts, she considers circumstances of ‘not-knowing’ by evoking traditionally forgotten moments in ‘cabins and holding bays’, ‘hostels, processing and reception centres, and the countless queues’ – spaces of waiting and hoping, in which dreams and reality may converge.

The Panel (Catherine Dewhirst, Malcolm Angelucci, Sally Hill, Catherine Kovesi).

‘Tied with indissoluble chains’: Languages of Exile and Imprisonment

Mon, 11 May 2015 07:12:00 GMT

Lisa di Crescenzo and Sally Fisher write ...

The inaugural Annual Symposium of Monash University’s Centre for Medieval and Renaissance Studies (CMRS),'”Tied with indissoluble chains”: Languages of Exile and Imprisonment in Medieval and Renaissance England and Italy’, was held at Monash University on 24 April 2015. The theme was born out of shared research interests, and the enthusiastic response from speakers and participants confirmed both scholarly and general interest in a sustained enquiry into languages of exile and imprisonment in Medieval and Renaissance England and Italy. Susan Broomhall (UWA) gave the plenary address, followed by Stephanie Downes (Melbourne), Helen Hickey (Melbourne), Amanda McVitty (Massey University, NZ) and Natalie Tomas (Monash). Papers by Lisa Di Crescenzo and Sally Fisher completed the programme. Analysing sources such as letters, legal documents, chronicles and poems, the speakers interrogated the writing of the experiences of exile and imprisonment in fifteenth- and sixteenth-century England and Italy, exploring how the physical and interior experiences of these states were negotiated, reshaped and performed, and the intersections and oppositions between them.

The ex Convent of Santissima Annunziata delle Murate, Florence. Photo Alessandro Naldi, courtesy The Art Tribune

Three papers had as their focus women and exile in Renaissance Italy. Susan Broomhall opened the Symposium with an analysis of the affective language of exile in the letters of the queen and regent, Caterina de’ Medici. Drawing on the queen’s formative experience of imprisonment, as an orphan aged seven, by the city’s officials in the Florentine convent of Santissima Annunziata delle Murate, Broomhall’s paper brought into close focus the profound impact this three year confinement within the convent walls exerted upon Caterina’s adult life, before her imprisonment was ended with her forcible removal in late August 1530. Although she would never return to Florence following her marriage to the Valois prince Henri (later Henri II of France), Caterina re-cast her girlhood experience of incarceration into a vision of emotional refuge. Fluently and subtly weaving through Caterina’s letters to the women of Le Murate, Broomhall demonstrated how the language of nostalgia, gratitude and longing, not for home, but for the affective community of the convent, recast the queen’s imprisonment as a girl into a particular vision of an emotional and spiritual refuge from which she drew strength as a woman in her life lived in exile from the Florentine homeland.

In the session ‘Women and Exile, and Strategies of Authority and Identity’ Lisa Di Crescenzo presented the second of the Symposium’s papers to examine the language of exile in Renaissance Italy. In her ‘Departing Hell and Entering Paradise: Motherhood Vignettes of Exile and Reprieve’ she analysed the performative and emotive articulation of exile’s all-consuming fear of loss in the correspondence of Luisa Strozzi to her sons. Immersed in the double trial of exiled menfolk and widowhood, Di Crescenzo argued, Luisa was transformed into a neurotic and embattled manipulator of the pervasive patriarchal authority of the family. Analysing Luisa’s epistolary weapons of melancholic lamentation and corporeal suffering in the maternal and filial tug-of-war over her imperilled patrimony: part of exile’s legacy of ruin, Di Crescenzo identified the emotional stages of exile’s material and psychological menacing of this Strozzi widow as interlocked within her long life cycle.

In the same session Natalie Tomas’s paper, ‘A Stranger in a Strange Land: The Medici Duchess Who Ran Away From Home’, brought to light a hitherto unknown document about the Medici duchess, Giovanna of Austria, who exploited her absence from her homeland to legitimise a claim for greater control over the Florentine court. Weaving across the principal themes of gender, nationality and identity forged in a strange land, under Tomas’ analysis, exile was examined as a sense of place and a feeling of alienation for a foreign Medici duchess who considered herself a stranger out of place in the Florentine court.

Megan Cassidy-Welch, the Acting Director of the CMRS, and Carolyn James oversaw the closing remarks and roundtable, drawing together some of the themes identified during the day. Cassidy-Welch invited the speakers and audience to consider the multifarious nature of exile and imprisonment; for example, as political, cultural, and affective categories, and as encompassing place and space, and bodily and interior worlds. Importantly, the roundtable provoked a consideration of the implications of exile and imprisonment upon vernacularities; of discarded languages and new ones learned and adopted in their place. Provocatively, discussants pointed to the ways in which speech itself could function as a form of linguistic exile or imprisonment. Overall the day highlighted the value of the enquiry into languages of exile and imprisonment, with the papers and enthusiastic discussions illuminating areas warranting further exploration, whilst also suggesting new modes of analysis of these themes.

The symposium was organised by CMRS PhD candidates Lisa Di Crescenzo and Sally Fisher, sponsored by the CMRS, the School of Historical Studies (Monash), the Monash Postgraduate Association, The Bill Kent Foundation Fund and the Italian Chamber of Commerce and Industry, Melbourne, with support and contributions also coming from the Royal Studies Network and the Australasian Centre for Italian Studies (ACIS).

Bartolomeo Cristofori, pianoforte man

Fri, 08 May 2015 08:20:00 GMT

Sally Grant writes ...

Bartolomeo Cristofori, photo of a portrait destroyed during the second world war. Public domain.

New Paragraph

Slow Food founder Carlo Petrini at Eataly NYC

Mon, 04 May 2015 12:25:00 GMT

Carlo Petrini signing copies of his new book at Eataly, NYC.

Recently I attended a talk by Carlo Petrini, the founder of the Slow Food movement, at the NYC branch of the Italian gastronomic chain Eataly. Appropriately enough on Earth Day, he was there to discuss the release of his new book Loving the Earth: Dialogues on the Future of our Planet . Petrini gave an impassioned talk (in Italian, accompanied by an English translator) on his philosophy of food culture and the impact agriculture has on the health of the world. The book is a record of conversations between Petrini and people who he feels are important in this debate, such as Massimo Montanari and Dario Fo in Italy, and Wendell Berry in America, among others from around the globe.

Subjects discussed on the day ranged from the joys of the table and the importance of family traditions and education, to Slow Food’s defence of bio-diversity and the necessity to comprehend gastronomy as a whole system related to the human condition and to that of the planet, including agriculture and husbandry. While Slow Food, which was founded in 1986, went some way to addressing issues such as the harmful effect of powerful multinationals, food waste, and malnutrition, Petrini noted that it is with two related initiatives begun in 2004 that these are tackled further – the creation of the University of Gastronomic Sciences in Pollenzo (Piedmont), and that of Terra Madre , an international grassroots community of small-scale producers, cooks, and academics concerned with sustainable food and its access. Petrini emphasised young people as instrumental in this movement and at the Expo in Milan this year Slow Food is holding a “ Terra Madre Giovani ” event that encourages young farmers from around the world to share their ideas on the future of food production (3-6 October). The global emphasis of the movement is reflected in the meeting’s call to arms, which is available to download in various languages.

When asked by the director of Slow Foods USA about positive changes in this country, Petrini was complimentary. He admitted that food production did reach rock bottom here before it improved, and that there are still many policies with which to be gravely concerned (GMOs, the use of hormones in livestock, massive production scales, etc.), but he observed that the US was in fact an example for old Europe. In contrast to Italy, for instance, where he said farmers’ markets are being lost to traders, he has witnessed their massive growth in the United States. Petrini helped open markets in Chicago and New Orleans and mentioned knowing of 60 or 70 in the country at the time of his early visits. Indeed, since 1994, when the US Department of Agriculture first began recording the number of farmers’ markets, these have risen from 1,775 to over 8,000 in 2014. Tellingly, Petrini noted that in Italy “mercati contadini” are now often called by the English term “farmers’ markets”. He was also very enthusiastic about the resurgence of craft breweries in the US that, after hovering around the 100 count in the 1970s and early 80s, now number more than 3,000 (a return to the figures of the 1870s). And certainly in urban centres such as NYC, the demand for the small-scale and ethically sourced is burgeoning – this has led to the growth of enterprises such as rooftop farming and urban beekeeping, as well as to the opening of stores that specialise in products such as fair-trade, handmade chocolate or where the coffee is made from carefully sourced and locally roasted beans.

Want to buy a frying pan?

When Petrini called out TV chefs “che parlano, parlano, parlano” and put their name to frying pans, referencing this as a type of gastronomic pornography, it did seem rather ironic that we were sat having this debate in Eataly’s rooftop Birreria. While the store was first established by Oscar Farinetti in Turin in 2007, there are now twenty-seven Eataly outlets around the world. Partners in the NYC store include Mario Batali , Joe Bastianich , and Lidia Bastianich – all well-known television personalities in the US who also feature prominently in the merchandise of Eataly and, yes, who have put their names (at least in Batali’s case) to frying pans. Petrini himself noted this dichotomy, mentioning that he was brave to talk about “conscious citizens” rather than “consumers” (a word he abhors) in a centre of consumerism (though whether he meant Eataly or America in general – or both – was unclear). Rather, he urged that we look behind the vendors, and the products, to see how and by whom they were created so we can eat with both our mouths and our heads in an attempt to save the planet. He suggested that the revolution – a slow, quiet one – begins with schools and with farmers’ markets.

Organic veggies at the Union Square Greenmarket.

And so, while admittedly being seduced to first buy some fresh pasta and bread from Eataly, I headed to the Union Square Greenmarket to support the farmers whose products, in these early days of spring and after a long and cold winter, are blooming. I like to think that Carlo Petrini made it there later that day too.

[ Postscript : With Farinetti due to open a “Fico Eataly World” in Bologna at the end of this year, a type of food theme park that has been termed a “Disneyland of Food” by the press, I would be interested to hear ACIS readers’ thoughts on this venture. I had the privilege of spending a semester on exchange at the University of Bologna as an undergrad ten years ago and the city will always be very dear to me. I particularly recall walking the medieval streets in winter, where the city felt dark, brooding, and somewhat mysterious. Above all (aside from study of course), I relished buying fresh produce from the market vendors in the Quadrilatero and the Mercato delle erbe and picking up items such as cheese, tortellini, prosciutto, olive oil, and chocolates from small speciality stores dotted around the old city (not to mention the institution Tamburini, where their made-in-house ragù and vitello tonnato were always temptations).

Italian Anemones at the market.

Of course this is one of the pleasures of Italy that many of us love and appreciate. So how do people feel about a food theme park in La Grassa, a city renowned for the quality of its food within a country already esteemed for its cuisine? Any ideas what the local Bolognesi feel about this enterprise? It appears from the news coverage that the venture, which is run in partnership with the city of Bologna, is being touted as a boost to the faltering Italian economy. But a development of this concept and scale does beg the question, at what cost? Does this Disneyfication of Italian food culture – something Carlo Petrini and Slow Foods have fought against since first protesting the siting of a McDonald’s at the Spanish Steps in Rome nearly 30 years ago – take with it the worst of America and leave behind the best parts that Petrini sees as an example to the world – the new focus on the small-scale, the locally-produced, and the human side of food. Something that has been at the heart of a very regionally proud Italy for hundreds of years.

Sardinia on the screen, 1899-2008

Sun, 19 Apr 2015 10:37:00 GMT

The issue of what counts as an ethnographic/documentary film is a much-discussed issue in visual anthropology. The first ethnographic film was a four-minute piece taken by members of the Torres Strait islands expedition in 1898. A sensible definition categorises ethnographic films as those made with the intention of communicating cultural patterns. Some scholars and filmmakers have, however, distinguished ethnographic films from documentaries and aesthetic cinema in general, maintaining that the criteria to define ethnographic films are equal to those used to define satisfactorily written anthropological research. Their definitions of ethnographic film tend to exclude films made by non-anthropologists. Because the scientific credentials of anthropology have been associated with literate and articulate analysis, ethnographic film does not always meet the methodological expectations of the mainstream discipline. For this reason, filmmakers such as Jean Rouch, David MacDougall and Luc de Heusch have rejected the adjustment of ethnographic film to a codified filmic lexicon corresponding to the scientific standards of anthropology.

Implicit in the technical and strategic processes of filmmaking is a set of ideas about representation and experience. No one would contest that similar subjects can be represented in different ways, emphasising certain ideas and aspects at the expense of others, and that what is presented and how it is presented are influenced by one’s philosophical orientation towards the world. The philosophical stances of filmmaking and the ethical issues implicit in the practical procedures by which films are actually made are often associated with the dynamics of anthropological cinema, a kind of cinema that struggles intensely with the relationships between self and other, sameness and difference, distance and closeness. Ethical and methodological criteria in filmmaking have been discussed at length by critics of the documentary form, and especially by practitioners of the subgenre of ethnographic film. If ethical issues are particularly felt in the domains of ethnographic and documentary film, it is not because film critics are generally uninterested in the ethics of representation, but because the problem of an ethically informed ethnographic practice is central in the representation of other cultures. The tension between ‘us’ and ‘them’, and the urge of contemporary anthropology to transcend binary dichotomies of self and other, are central features of the relationship between filmmaker and subjects in ethnographic and documentary films. It is difficult to define the nature of ethnographic cinema and, on the whole, there is a similar problem in defining ethnographic filmmakers, a community of practitioners who meet regularly at international conventions, universities, anthropological film conferences and festivals.

My study provides an overview of the development of documentary and ethnographic film in Sardinia while simultaneously highlighting the innovations and potential of this kind of cinema within the broad contemporary context of postmodern anthropology. [A more detailed history can be found here ]. My main aim has been the interpretation of the formal strategies and methodologies by which ethnographic and documentary films are actually made, that is, an analysis of films that highlights how different modes of interaction of text and images in film – but also camera position and shot duration – tend to structure the audience’s consciousness in different ways for reasons related to epistemological considerations. How are cultural realities constructed in documentary and ethnographic films? In what ways do practical filmmaking strategies reflect wider epistemological questions and ethical concerns? These questions are difficult to answer in the abstract so I have chosen to study specific examples in depth in order to examine the general stylistic principles that have guided the making of this substantial body of documentary films. I pay particular attention to a range of different methods used by a select number of documentary and ethnographic filmmakers, covering important theoretical points on the distinctive set of technical, aesthetic and ethical problems embodied in the epistemology of their filmmaking practice.

Perhaps using a case study approach might seem too reductive, since the focus is mainly on specific instances and single films. However, it is also a necessity, given the range of variations and examples in the history of documentary film in Sardinia. I have exclusively focused on films shot on the island. Within this delimited scope, I have paid particular attention to films by Fernando Cerchio, Raffaello Matarazzo, Gino Rovesti, Fiorenzo Serra, Ubaldo Magnaghi, Vittorio De Seta and David MacDougall. The films have been selected on the basis of their relevance within a larger discourse on the epistemology and ethics of filmmaking. The modes of analysis I use do not follow the methodological guidelines of archival research and quantitative analysis that lead to a comprehensive catalogue of documentary films made in Sardinia. Instead, my research focuses on a qualitative and interpretive approach driven by specific theoretical concerns that attempt to open new spaces for film analysis – a critical perspective on film based on the increasingly productive dialogue between visual anthropology and film studies.

Note

[1] This is the most recent volume in the series New Studies in European Cinema which includes two earlier volumes on Italian cinema ( Italian Cinema: New Directions, ed. William Hope, 2005; Italy On Screen: National Identity and Italian Imaginary , eds. Lucy Bolton and Christina Manson, 2010).

Diario etnografico Expo 2015 – Note dal Campo del 15/04/2015

Wed, 15 Apr 2015 18:22:00 GMT

Ecco il perché di tutta quella reticenza tra i nativi?! Ad ogni modo ora mi sto dando un gran daffare per correggere questa falsa impressione sul mio conto, non sottraendomi quando necessario dal partecipare alla condivisione delle maldicenze sul Festival e sul suo sicuro fallimento (sempre, naturalmente, con la dovuta discrezione, come saggiamente raccomandava il Prof. del corso di “Ethnographic Research in Italy – Advanced”). Questi pronostici infausti sono proclamati con tono compiaciuto da quasi tutti i miei informatori, ma non capisco se si tratti davvero di reali speranze oppure di scaramanzia rituale.

Non si capirebbe dunque tanta agitazione dei Milanesiani per tale evento, se non tenendo conto della valenza epocale che vi attribuiscono. Sono soliti affermare, infatti, che all’Expo parteciperà “Tutto il Mondo”. Questa evidente esagerazione è senza dubbio riconducibile ad una ben nota e studiata caratteristica linguistica della parlata locale, il “ bauscismo “, ma testimonia nondimeno dell’importanza attribuita all’evento.

I papiri di Carmelo Campanella

Sun, 22 Mar 2015 22:29:00 GMT

La prima volta che sono andata a trovarlo

La prima volta che sono andata a trovarlo ero animata da un sentimento di profondo rispetto per l’anziano contadino, che con la sua quinta elementare aveva avuto il coraggio di misurarsi con “l’impresa scrittoria”, ma nutrivo anche una certa diffidenza per quel testo da lui firmato ricevuto via posta elettronica tramite Elisa, la figlia laureata nella facoltà di Lingue. Chi aveva scritto al computer con così tanta sicurezza, passando dal dialetto a un italiano fin troppo forbito? “Io, perché?” mi ha risposto il sig. Campanella. “Lei sa usare il computer?”, ho insistito con manifesta incredulità. “Certo! E’ più facile della macchina da scrivere!”. “Perché lei ha una macchina da scrivere?” “Sicuro! L’ho comprata a rate. L’ho lasciata in campagna”. E in campagna, ha aggiunto ridendo, c’è ancora il “papiro” che mia moglie voleva bruciare nella stufa.

Il Catechismo in dialetto e le storie di Santa Genoveffa e Santa Rosalia

Rubricato sotto la voce I cosi ‘i Diu , insieme a preghiere, scongiuri e formule propiziatorie varie, vi è anche Il catechismo di mio padre in forma di dialogo. Fra le domande finali vi sono le seguenti: “D:Ci su carceri sutta terra? R: Sissignuri, ci su carceri sutta terra. D: E quantu sunu? R: Ci ni sunu quattru. D: E quali su ? R: A prima è chida re Patri Santi ca prima era cina e ora è vacanti. A secunna è u Limmu unni ci vanu i picciridi ca muorunu senza battisimu. U terzu è u Priatoriu ca si ci sta fina ca s’acquitunu i piccati e a quarta è chida ro ‘nFiernu ca si ci stapi pi sempri. In eternu ‘nPararisu e o ‘nFiernu si ci stapi pi sempri in eternu e o Priatoriu fina ca s’acquitunu i piccati.”

Anch’io a suo tempo ho studiato il catechismo, ma questa storia dei “quattro carceri”, e in particolare di quello dei “Padri Santi” che prima era pieno e adesso è vuoto, mi risultava del tutto nuova. In effetti, secondo il dettato del catechismo tridentino, accanto all’inferno e al purgatorio c’era anche il limbo dei Santi Padri, assunti in cielo dopo la discesa di Cristo agli inferi nei tre giorni che precedettero la sua Resurrezione, oltre (sia pure in forma più dubitativa) il limbo dei bambini non battezzati. A quelle verità di fede si rifacevano i Compendi dei catechismi in dialetto siciliano, in forma di domanda e risposta da imparare a memoria, che cominciarono a essere stampati a partire dalla seconda metà del Seicento per essere ancora largamente in uso per tutto l’Ottocento. Il primo Compendio in italiano, pubblicato a Catania nel 1863, era una traduzione dal siciliano del Compendio di Mons. Ventimiglia del 1768. Carmelo Campanella testimonia dunque il fatto che l’evangelizzazione in questa parte della Sicilia ancora all’inizio del Novecento era praticata dai parroci facendo uso dei testi composti in dialetto due secoli prima nello sforzo di una catechesi che riuscisse a raggiungere il popolo.

A secoli ancora precedenti risale forse l’origine delle appassionanti e avventurose storie di Santa Genoveffa, Santa Filomena, Santa Brigida e San Giorgio , ben presenti nella Legenda aurea di Iacopo da Varazze (sec. XIII), il libro che fu un vero e proprio bestseller nel tardo medioevo. Scritto in latino, fu tradotto in volgare in tedesco, francese, ceco, italiano, inglese e pubblicato in migliaia e migliaia di codici manoscritti e poi stampa. A Ragusa le storie dei santi in versi e in dialetto ebbero anche una diffusione popolare attraverso le piccole pubblicazioni della tipografia Criscione, attiva già dal 1888. Come dimostra Campanella, quelle storie potevano essere recitate ma anche cantate durante i lavori agricoli.

Le scenette di Nofrio la storia di Rita e Matteu

Nel variegato repertorio di Campanella non mancano le scenette comiche, che scritte dall’attore palermitano Giovanni De Rosalia, che a partire dal 1907 calcò la scena dei teatri di New York dove accorrevano gli emigranti siciliani. Personaggio ricorrente delle sue commedie è Nofrio, con un chiaro riferimento al personaggio delle vastasate palermitane. “Sig. Campanella, per caso lei ha mai sentito qualche disco di Nofrio?” gli ho chiesto dopo avere scoperto che più di 200 dischi con quelle scenette erano stati prodotti negli Stati Uniti tra il 1916 e il 1926. “Sì che li sentivo” è stata la risposta, “ Erano della mia vicina di casa che li aveva portati dall’America”. In questo caso, dunque, nel “tesoro” di Campanella non ritroviamo qualcosa di tramandato in famiglia ma piuttosto contenuti di cui era venuto a conoscenza, grazie all’industria discografica e al movimento degli uomini e delle donne tra un continente all’altro.

La storia di Rita e Matteu è stata invece scritta dal popolarissimo cantastorie Orazio Strano (1904-1981), il più noto della Sicilia orientale, che nel 1955 arrivò a calcare il Piccolo di Milano e a incidere il suo primo 45 giri. Probabilmente Carmelo Campanella riuscì a memorizzare tutte le strofe non tanto ascoltando i dischi ma grazie ai foglietti che venivano venduti durante lo spettacolo in piazza con i testi dello spettacolo.

L’ultima impresa: I Paladini di Francia e Internet

Campanella afferma orgogliosamente di avere fatto tutto da solo e di non avere copiato. E’ infatti perfettamente informato sul fatto che esistano altre pubblicazioni con contenuti simili ai suoi ma deliberatamente ha scelto di non uniformarsi ai testi a stampa già esistenti, restando fedele alle varianti delle versioni da lui memorizzate. E se dalle sue ricerche riesce a trovare fonti più complete la scelta nella trascrizione è di integrare il racconto con qualche riga in corsivo. Adesso ha in mente di scrivere la storia dei Paladini di Francia per come l’ha appresa da suo padre. Per i passaggi che non ricorda ha già intrapreso la sua ricerca su Internet.

Per saperne di più

La storia del contadino-scrittore Carmelo Campanella è stata rilanciata dall’ANSA e dal Corriere della Sera come un nuovo “caso” simile a quello di Vincenzo Rabito, il cantoniere chiaramontano autore di Terra matta pubblicato da Einaudi nel 2007. Per chi volesse sapere di più sull’ impresa scrittoria di Campanella, “etnografo di se stesso e del proprio mondo”, come scrive a riguardo il classicista Gianni Guastella (Università di Siena) e sulla contiguità fra tradizione orale e internet (così nella nota di Andrea Nicita), si rimanda all’ Archivio degli Iblei dove sono consultabili sia gli scritti di Campanella sia le registrazioni audiovisive che lo riguardano.

Learning from letters: the Strozzi in exile and the implications of expatriation

Wed, 04 Feb 2015 08:43:00 GMT

In the aftermath of Cosimo de’ Medici’s banishment of the deposed patrician power group from Florence in 1434, Palla di Nofri Strozzi and his branch were forced to resettle in the northeastern Italian cities of Padua, Ferrara and Venice. They kept up a voluminous correspondence which, hitherto neglected by scholars, offers valuable insights into the ways the members of the lineage sought to reorganise their lives and reconstruct their patrician identity in their new habitat, particularly in the court centre of Ferrara. Gauging the impact of this exile and forced migration on the Strozzi’s sense of their common identity is of particular interest. To what degree was the Strozzi lineage a movable structure, association and ideology across regional borders, retaining Florentine features in its organization, activities, and patterns of social and familial relations? To what extent did the Strozzi as an émigré family and their successor generations remain a lineage bound together by reciprocal loyalty, political solidarity and economic interest?

Letter of Luisa Donati Strozzi to Alessandro Strozzi in Venice, 16 April, 1496. Archivio di Stato, Ferrara.

The focus of my current research is on the extant autograph letters of Palla Strozzi’s Florentine daughter-in-law, Luisa Donati, written to her scattered sons between 1471 and 1510. As far as I can tell, there does not exist a precise equivalent of this manuscript source in the epistolary collections of patrician women in Renaissance Italy. One comparable example of a fifteenth-century female-authored vernacular letter collection is that of Luisa’s kinswoman, Alessandra Macinghi Strozzi (1407/8-71), whose seventy-three surviving letters to her banished sons, in particular, shed light on family, motherhood, gender and exile. But in contrast to Alessandra Strozzi who, in widowhood, returned to her native Florence from her husband’s exile in Pesaro, Luisa Donati spent almost sixty uninterrupted years in Ferrara. Her letters therefore raise fresh questions about the implications of exiled men and forced resettlement upon women within the marital lineage if we accept that their precise social position, and the social and cultural traditions of their home cities, largely determined their life outcomes.

In tandem with the study of letters of the Strozzi men, Luisa’s correspondence can be used to test the hypothesis that the interests of the patrician lineage in the environments of exile and resettlement could be defended and furthered through a combination of both male and female efficacy. Luisa’s forced resettlement in Ferrara permits us to scrutinize her agency, self-determination and claim to matriarchal authority in renewing the patrician identity and corporate solidarity of the Strozzi lineage across the regional borders on the Italian peninsula. The four decades spanned by the correspondence offer, therefore, a new context for understanding familial ideology, gender roles, and the responses by élite women to exile and emigration in Renaissance Italy. Moreover, rooted in a long temporal framework, Luisa’s account of her movement through the life-course of marriage, motherhood and widowhood provides an especially illuminating framework for examining how one patrician woman struggled and negotiated to manoeuvre effectively within the overarching male system of the lineage.

The corpus of the letters can also shed light on other important issues. Their language – a vernacular mix of Tuscan, Ferrarese and Venetian variations and dialects – can help us to document the relationship between changes in the Italian vernacular and cross-border and transregional movement in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries. When élites had to move beyond their cities’ walls, for example, did they come to abandon aspects of their native dialects while absorbing others? Are differing regional taxonomies of family identity and life discernible over time in these vernacular family letters? And, more specifically, in what ways did gender inflect the Strozzi’s epistolary negotiations of their relationships, and their adherence to, and manipulation of, the rhetorical frames of correspondence in writing about the structure and culture of their family relations in exile and expatriation?

Ghost Towns, Awake! Futures for Italy’s Abandoned Settlements

Thu, 29 Jan 2015 08:12:00 GMT

Craco, Basilicata, Abandoned 1963

The increasing number and visibility of abandoned places throughout the world, coupled with a significant change in the way space is perceived in contemporary societies, has sparked a growing global conversation about re-using abandoned elements of the built environment. In the past ten years thousands of projects have emerged around the world that involve mapping and ‘re-purposing’ abandoned places, notably the ‘re-awakening’ of entirely deserted villages. Italy is of particular interest here. It has at least 5838 historically valuable ‘ghost towns’ of which 2831 are either completely abandoned or at serious risk of extinction. The loss for the former inhabitants and for the collective memory embodied in the lost communities is severe. Their requalification for contemporary use has become an urgent task.

Torri Superiore

One of the features of many contemporary re-use projects is a strong focus on function, beauty and profit at expense of authenticity, history, and cultural identity. Inappropriate or short-sighted interventions risk severing present and future generations from a sense of identity and the cultural traditions of the past. In fact, such a strong emphasis on the need to make abandoned places practically useful and aesthetically pleasing for contemporary users risks sacrificing the more complex offerings of abandoned places and ignores the painful reality of the abandonment process. My research investigates how and why groups and individuals (many of whom have no historical connection to the places in question) have embarked on projects to recuperate and restore abandoned Italian villages and use them for contemporary projects. I aim to identify key voices in the discussion and understand what, and for whom the benefits of recuperating abandoned villages may be. My case-studies include the ecological community of Torri Superiore in Liguria, the Associazione Nazionale degli Alberghi Diffusi in Abruzzo, the abandoned town turned film set; Craco in Basilicata and ‘Paraloup’ in Piemonte; a previously abandoned hamlet re-awakened as a historical convention centre. I shall also be looking at four public initiatives that provide funds to aid the protection, promotion and development of small villages that have been certified as having architectural, historical or natural patrimony.

Pentedattilo

The research relates to the universal issue of people’s relations to the built environment and addresses the transnational issue of how to use abandoned villages constructively in an economic and ecologically sustainable way without destroying their heritage. It also deals with the question of how today people look to preserve and learn from unique cultural heritages that risk being destroyed or forgotten. A better understanding of such issues means that we can begin to map the ways in which changing expectations and experiences of ‘place’ ‘space’ and ‘resources’ in the contemporary world have allowed people to imagine and interact with abandoned places in more meaningful and sustainable ways.

Insulting with Style: A Short History of Violent Language

Thu, 15 Jan 2015 10:05:00 GMT

You stinking billy-goat, you horned monster, you malevolent vituperator, father of lies and author of chaos… May Divine vengeance destroy you as an enemy of virtue, a parricide who tries to ruin wives and decency by mendacity, slanders, and most foul, false imputations. If you must be so scornfully arrogant, write your satires against those who debauch your wife. Vomit the putrescence of your stomach

This is one of the many vitriolic invectives hurled by Italian humanists at their competitors well before Martin Luther, Desiderius Erasmus and Thomas More penned their theological and protestant vituperations.[1] Intellectuals and leaders used violent words, enacted on minds and with the intent of damaging the reputation of their opponents. Their extremely crude attacks and ‘robust’ language have confounded scholars who have generally shied away from these texts…..

The questions I am addressing in my current research on humanistic invectives include the following: Did these invectives really hurt their victims and were they intended to entertain their audiences? Were these texts really violent?

It is practically impossible for us today to tell what personal and lived feelings were stirred by these early modern literary invectives: embarrassment or anger, sadness or elation. In these Latin texts (as in ancient Roman invectives), a victim is subjected to blind, realistic, or hyperbolic accusations such as incest, homosexual prostitution and consorting with whores. Similarly, it is also difficult to assess whether the language used in these literary texts was effectively seen as violent as it appears to be today. It is however possible to understand the emotional qualities of a message delivered through a written text by studying the social and cultural system of insult. Literary texts convey affective resonances that are ‘independent of content and meaning’.[2] The study of humanist invectives beyond their literary system can therefore shed light on the texts’ ability to evoke lived emotions and involve a broader spectrum of society that understood and participated in the social performance of insult.

It also represents an exciting, albeit foul-mouthed, opportunity to write a new history of violent language. No offense, please.

[1] On fifteenth-century Italian humanism there is a vast literature. Most scholars agree that humanist authors were the most proficient Latin scholars who used their knowledge of classical culture to obtain distinguished political and cultural roles. Recently, this interpretation has been expanded to include non-professional, semi-Latinate readers of Latin. See Brian Maxson, The Humanist World of Renaissance Florence (Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014), pp. 11-25.

[2] Eric Shouse, ‘Feeling, Emotion, Affect,’ M/C Journal 8 (2005); quote taken from Ruth Leys, ‘ The Turn to Affect: A Critique ‘, Critical Inquiry 37 (2011) 3, p. 435, fn.6.

Diario Etnografico Expo 2015 – Note dal Campo del 18/12/14

Thu, 18 Dec 2014 17:28:00 GMT

Tali manufatti sono costituiti da alte torri (“grattacieli” nel linguaggio locale) e strade rosse (chiamate “piste ciclabili”) percorse da particolari mezzi di trasporto (le “biciclette)”. Dato il loro interesse in quanto recenti introduzioni nella cultura materiale locale ho ritenuto opportuno dedicarvi i miei primi giorni di osservazione partecipante. Ho dunque provveduto ad alloggiarmi in una capanna poco distante dal cantiere dove è in corso la costruzione di una di queste torri, mi sono procurata una “bicicletta” e ho appreso dai nativi come manovrarla e starvi in equilibrio. A dispetto di quella che a prima vista sembra un’impresa che richiede estrema perizia, sono stata in grado di apprenderne i rudimenti nel giro di pochi giorni. Il principio è infatti simile a quello della nostra canoa: finché ti muovi, non ti ribalti. Sono pienamente soddisfatta della scelta del mio alloggio, che mi permette di osservare i lavori di costruzione delle torri in corso. Si noti peraltro che l’importanza della costruzione è evidente per il fatto che il suo monitoraggio è affidato agli anziani del villaggio (nel linguaggio locale “i Veget che guarden gli Alter laurà”), i quali passano lunghe ore a scrutare e commentare i cantieri. La mia frequentazione della zona risulta dunque doppiamente proficua, perché avrò modo di interrogare agevolmente i saggi sulle tradizioni locali. Sono meno soddisfatta, invece, del mio uso della bicicletta, che è forse stata una scelta avventata. Benché io mi sia scrupolosamente informata su tutte le regole, i rituali e i tabù connessi chiedendo informazioni ad un Guardiano delle Strade (“ghisa” nel dialetto locale), ogni volta che mi aggiro tra i villaggi in sella a questo mezzo vengo rimbottata dai nativi con frasi come “sti ciclisti fanno sempre quello che vogliono loro!”, “eccone un’altra, non se ne può più…”, quando non vengo direttamente insultata. Stupita da questo comportamento, mi sono informata interrogando i miei vicini di capanna, e ho appreso dell’esistenza di due fazioni all’interno del territorio di Milano.

Queste due fazioni vengono identificate dalla popolazione locale con i sostenitori della costruzione delle torri da un lato, e con i ciclisti dall’altro. Anche se questa rivelazione mi lascia evidentemente compiaciuta per la mia brillante intuizione sull’importanza di questi due fenomeni, temo di essere stata identificata come la sostenitrice di una delle due fazioni (i ciclisti appunto). Maggiore cautela è necessaria d’ora in poi. Queste due fazioni, più precisamente, sono chiamate “la Lobby dei Poteri della Finanza e della Speculazione Edilizia” (i costruttori di torri) e “la Lobby dei Sinistroidi Radical-chic” (i ciclisti). Si noti tuttavia che la gran parte della popolazione locale non simpatizza né con gli uni né con gli altri, mentre le élite locali si esprimono positivamente sia nei confronti delle torri che delle biciclette, sia pure ostentando estraneità nei confronti di entrambe le parti. Bisogna dire inoltre che, per quanto le due fazioni vengano generalmente descritte come rivali, non mancano informatori che le accusano di essere in realtà in combutta tra loro. La faccenda merita senz’altro di essere investigata più approfonditamente. È indubbio, ad ogni modo, che questo costituisca un esempio lampante di come innovazioni di tale portata nella cultura materiale di una popolazione primitiva si accompagnino sempre a grandi rivolgimenti nella vita della comunità, e siano al tempo stesso occasioni attorno a cui si condensano interessi e conflitti preesistenti, che ne risultano esacerbati.

ACIS Postgraduate Scholarship Awards for 2015

Tue, 16 Dec 2014 10:37:00 GMT

ACIS warmly congratulates Lisa Di Crescenzo (Monash University) and Kristen Sloan (University of Wollongong) on the award of ACIS Cassamarca scholarships for their research in Italy in 2015. Lisa’s research topic is a study of the letters of Luisa Donati Strozzi, written between 1471 and 1510 in exile from Florence in Ferrara, to explore the consequences of exile for lineage identity and relationships. Kristen’s research concerns the analysis of the growing number of projects to reclaim and revive abandoned villages in Italy and to create new uses for old spaces while preserving the links with their past. As in 2013, the competition for the awards was very strong; the ACIS Scholarships Committee was again impressed by the very high quality and range of the applications and regrets that it could only make two awards.

Diario Etnografico Expo 2015 – Note dal Campo del 14/12/14

Sun, 14 Dec 2014 13:02:00 GMT

Risalendo il corso del fiume Lambro dalla Melegnanesia sud-orientale sono finalmente giunta al raggruppamento dei villaggi di Milano, meta del mio viaggio di ricerca.

Scorcio di orto invernale in uno dei villaggi che compongono il territorio di Milano.

La prima impressione che ho avuto dei nativi non è stata molto incoraggiante: sembra si tratti di genti diffidenti e poco socievoli, sia nei miei confronti che nei confronti dei membri della stessa comunità (su questo cfr. Moss 1919). A questa freddezza che caratterizza la vita quotidiana si accompagna però quella che sembra essere una vera passione per i grandi festeggiamenti e i rituali collettivi, quasi a compensare la chiusura che caratterizza invece le interazioni di tutti i giorni. Quali siano gli effetti di una vita sociale caratterizzata da questa estrema alternanza sulla vita psichica dei selvaggi rimane un mistero ancora da svelare.

La festa di Sant’Ambrogio e il suo mercato, appena conclusi, hanno richiamato una grande quantità di gente da tutte le tribù dei dintorni. Questa ricorrenza annuale è una delle più importanti per il popolo dei Milanesi, che celebra in questa occasione uno dei suoi antenati più venerati, principalmente ricordato per aver prolungato di tre giorni i festeggiamenti di un’altra festività, il Carnevale. A conferma, per l’appunto, della centralità delle celebrazioni collettive in questa cultura. Bisogna tuttavia notare che alla capacità di condurre un’esistenza solitaria e riservata è attribuito un grande valore. E infatti le élite locali in queste circostanze partono dal villaggio centrale per recarsi sui monti a meditare e compiere dei rituali ascetici che consistono nello scivolare lungo le pendici delle montagne, possibilmente durante una tormenta di neve, patendo il gelo e a gran rischio di rompersi una o entrambe le gambe. Quanto è affascinante la varietà delle culture umane!

Oltre che alla numerose festività annuali, tuttavia, il mio interesse di ricerca è soprattutto indirizzato al grande festival che si terrà qui il prossimo anno: l’Expo 2015. L’inquietudine dei Milanesi per questo evento è palese, e rimanda all’atteggiamento ambiguo nei confronti della dimensione collettiva che ho richiamato più sopra. Da un lato, infatti, guardano con grande curiosità e anticipazione a questa occasione. Dall’altro lato, ne sono anche particolarmente preoccupati. Preoccupati, in egual misura, di non essere all’altezza dell’organizzazione, e quindi che il festival richiami poche persone, e del fastidio suscitato da un così grande numero di esseri umani con cui doversi relazionare ogni giorno.

Sicily and Scotland: an odd couple?

Thu, 11 Dec 2014 09:41:00 GMT

This book focuses on these three major strands of comparison and contrast: literature and film, travel writing and emigration. It explores the work of some of each nation’s most famous writers (Sciascia, Lampedusa, Scott and Stevenson) and some well-known films by directors of the stature of Visconti, Tornatore, Forsyth and Loach. It considers the string of Scots who, before Sicily was discovered by tourists, made the long and unfamiliar journey there, culminating in Patrick Brydone’s Tour Through Sicily and Malta which proved to be immensely popular and went through many editions after its first appearance in 1773. Finally it provides a comparison of the experience of Sicilian and Scottish emigrants through a general survey of Scottish migration, a case-study of Sicilians in Australia, and one man’s personal account of the lives of his Sicilian and Scottish ancestors in America.

Ippolito Nievo’s ‘Le confessioni d’un italiano’

Wed, 15 Oct 2014 08:24:00 GMT

Last week’s TLS (Oct 10) carries a long review by Lucy Hughes-Hallett, author of a prize-winning biography of D’Annunzio, of the new English translation by Frederika Randall of Ippolito Nievo’s Le confessioni d’un italiano (1857-8, published posthumously in 1867). The protagonist of this fictional autobiography, Carlo Altoviti, drifts hither and thither like Tristram Shandy: ‘You will […]

Mothers and daughters in four novels

Fri, 26 Sep 2014 07:29:00 GMT

Since my interest focuses on motherhood and freedom of choice, I have paid special attention to how mothers are represented. Within the corpus of mother-daughter narratives I looked for novels that departed from the dominant pattern characterised by maternal passivity and by the predominance of daughters’ narrations and endowed the mother and the daughter with the same degree of agency. Through the selected novels I traced the emergence of the expression of maternal subjectivity and I demonstrated how some women writers have subverted the passive idealisation of the maternal figure by challenging the wide-spread representation of the mother as a silent object.

Another aspect that attracted my attention is that in these novels the roles of mother and daughter appear interconnected as two sides of the same coin. Neither is able completely to overshadow the other, so that they create an unprecedented equilibrium. Through the protagonists of L’Arte della Gioia , Oltre Babilonia , Lo Spazio Bianco and Accabadora , I explore the extent to which motherhood affects women’s identities and the extent to which a woman’s identity is shaped by her previous relationship to a mother. Drawing from ancient Greek myth, psychoanalysis, feminist thought and literary theory I analyse how the experience of motherhood, disentangled from its bodily functions, becomes a relational practice, where the maternal perspective gradually emerges as dominant, although never completely severed from the daughter’s. In regard to the theorists that I drew from, I found particularly helpful the work of Jessica Benjamin, Luce Irigaray, Luisa Muraro and Amber Jacobs.

The truth is that I have retained the interest in women’s voices, lives, dilemmas and in the way they represent themselves which sent me down my thesis path. While my research on mothers and daughter has finally come to an end, my curiosity in those issues is pushing me in search of another path to explore them from.

Writing and Translating Crime Fiction during Italian Fascism

Tue, 02 Sep 2014 08:04:00 GMT

The association between Italy and crime fiction, however, is only a recent one. Crime fiction became a cultural phenomenon at the end of the 1920s, thanks to Mondadori’s series ‘I Gialli’ (1929-1941), which introduced Italian readers to the best English and American authors (e.g. A. Christie, S. S. Van Dine, G. K. Chesterton, and others). In the mid-nineteen-thirties, at a time when Fascism was implementing autarchic and imperialist policies, the proliferation of crime fiction series featuring foreign detectives raised concerns with the regime. Special measures were issued to limit the numbers of translations [1], and Italian authors began to write detective stories, in an attempt to exploit the mass popularity of the genre. However, the first Italian writers of crime fiction were faced with numerous challenges, and in having to negotiate between readers’ expectations, which had been shaped by (mostly) Anglo-American detective stories, and the regime’s demands, they struggled to compete with foreign authors. As a result, the Italian ‘giallo’ of the 1930s is often described as a failed experiment, a derivative and almost artificial literary form, without any aesthetic value, aiming to exploit the commercial success of foreign detectives [2]. With the exception of a few authors who have received some scholarly attention, such as Augusto De Angelis [3], Alessandro Varaldo [4], and Ezio D’Errico [5], literary critics have identified the founding fathers of Italian crime fiction as authors such as Leonardo Sciascia, Carlo Emilio Gadda and Giorgio Scerbanenco, whose works appeared from the 1950s onwards.

In the last thirty years or so, groundbreaking studies by Rambelli (1979); Carloni (1994); Petronio (2000); Chu (2001); Crovi (2002); Somigli (2005); Pistelli (2006); Pieri (2011); Pezzotti (2014), just to mention some, have outlined the history of Italian crime fiction and offered insights into how issues of politics, space and identity inform the genre. However, except for a few studies on the foreign origins of the ‘giallo’ (see Guagnini 1979 and Arnaudo 2011), the transition from translation to original writing of crime fiction in the 30s and 40s has remained largely unexplored. My research focuses precisely on the years after 1929, when Mondadori’s “I Gialli” was published and foreign crime fiction began to reach mass audiences through book series.

From the very beginning Italian crime fiction was characterised by an ambiguous relationship with authority and power. If we consider that cronaca nera or crime news had been banned in 1932, it is not hard to understand why crime fiction clashed with the image of the harmonious and crime free society promoted by Fascism. One of the strategies adopted in the Fascist campaign against crime fiction was precisely that of suggesting how the very experience of crime was alien to Italian people. In an article appearing in Corriere Padano in 1936, Egidio Terracina said: “la delinquenza, recitata dal romanzo giallo, è per fortuna nostra inglese e americana. In Italia invece la delinquenza è oggetto di studio e di legislazione” (1936, 3). In the same year, a journalist of Il Bargello criticised the popularity of detective stories saying: “tutto ciò è roba molto, ma molto lontana dalla nostra pratica investigativa giudiziale e soprattutto dalla nostra mentalità” (1936). The idea that crime fiction was incompatible with Italian mentality is reiterated by Alberto Savinio, who in a 1937 article in Omnibus, famously described the Italian “giallo” as “assurdo per ipotesi” (1982, 84).

In spite of this, the cultural campaign against crime fiction was paralleled by political measures: this included the forced increase in Italian crime fiction at the expense of the translations mentioned above, as well as the 1937 MinCulPop directive stating that “l’assassino non deve assolutamente essere italiano e non può sfuggire in alcun modo alla giustizia” (Crovi 2002, 52). Finally in 1941, the Ministry ordered the immediate withdrawal of “non pochi romanzi gialli già pubblicati e che giudica nocivi per la gioventù. L’incarico di ritirare tali libri è stato affidato agli editori stessi” (Rambelli 1979, 115). At a time when most publishers faced financial difficulties due to the imminent war, several book series, including Mondadori’s ‘I Gialli’, were forced to close down.

Il Cerchio Verde, 23 January 1936

However, if on the one hand foreign crime fiction was officially accused of being immoral, on the other the flow of translations helped to modernise the Italian publishing industry, and played a key role in creating a mass readership. Similarly, while translations of detective stories were labelled as “anti-Italian”, their popularity was also exploited to create a national tradition of crime fiction. This is clear if we look at how advertising campaigns promoting Italian writers of crime fiction often relied on patriotic appeals which had previously been used to condemn the genre all together. For example, in an attempt to encourage Italian writers to engage with crime fiction, the short-lived magazine “Il Cerchio Verde” launched the appeal: “Affermate anche in questo campo il prodotto nazionale” (Anton 1990, 13)

By focusing on the ‘translated origins’ of the Italian ‘giallo’, my research seeks to illuminate the distinctive ways in which Italian crime fiction has developed as a complex and controversial genre, marked by an ambiguous relationship with power. While existing work has recognised the important role played by foreign crime fiction in the first Italian book series (particularly in Mondadori’s “I GIalli”; see see D’Orsi and Volpatti, 1988), no study has focused specifically on translation as a literary and cultural phenomenon. Which authors were translated? Who were the translators? Which strategies of translation did they adopt, in the attempt to negotiate between aesthetic, ideological and commercial interests? These are some of the questions informing my analysis.

One of the case studies I consider is that of detective Philo Vance. Created by S. S. Van Dine, Philo Vance was the first detective to appear in Mondadori’s “I Gialli” in 1929 and his popularity is confirmed by the fact that all his stories were translated shortly after their original publication. I was interested to see how this New York dandy, defined by Julian Symons as a ‘monster of snobbish affectation’ (1985, 101), was translated into Italian at a time when the Fascist project of anthropological revolution promoted a specific cult of virility. Moreover, similarly to other detectives of the so-called “Golden Age” [6] of the 1920s and 1930s, Philo Vance is a typically bourgeois character who appealed to middle-class readers. In the context of Fascist Italy, where the regime was carrying out a cultural campaign against the bourgeoisie, crime fiction played a very different role, and provided an alternative space to the regime’s pervasive propaganda.

Enrico Piceni, the Italian translator of Philo Vance, had to negotiate between conflicting demands, in order to achieve a successful literary product which was also acceptable in the eyes of the regime. The process of negotiation and compromise is especially evident if we look at how the class and gender expressions of Philo Vance are translated for Italian readers. Besides providing insights into issues of identity which were crucial to Fascist ideology, the Italian translations of Philo Vance also reveal the influence of foreign crime fiction on the first Italian detective stories.

The second part of my project focuses specifically on 1930s Italian crime fiction, as a ‘laboratory’ where translation and original writing interacted and fed into each other. Instead of trying to assess their literary value, I argue that the first examples of Italian ‘giallo’ should be examined in a translational perspective, where foreign models were assimilated and negotiated to suit domestic purposes.

The regime’s requirement that criminals should come from abroad also contributed to the foreign flavour of Italian crime fiction. In order to comply with such demand, many writers set their stories abroad, or created foreign detectives, thus indirectly feeding readers’ fascination with foreign settings and characters. Some examples include detective E. Richard by Ezio D’Errico, detective Enderton by Alfredo Pitta, detective Schurke by Romualdo Natoli and detective A. Jelling by Giorgio Scerbanenco, just to mention a few. What is interesting to point out is that, while in some cases the ‘foreigness’ of crime fiction allowed Italian authors to avoid any reference to Fascism, in others, it provided an opportunity to highlight Italy’s greatness in comparison with ‘inferior’ democratic countries. More generally, if we look at authors such as Tito Spagnol, Natoli, De Angelis, Brighenti, D’Errico, Pitta, Gemignani, Scerbanenco and others writing in the 1930s/early 1940s, we can notice how the ‘translated status’ of crime fiction was exploited in different ways and for different purposes. If, on the one hand, crime fiction provided a relatively free space, which allowed authors to engage with controversial or sensitive topics, on the other, some exploited it as yet another instrument for Fascist propaganda.

Among the first examples of Italian detectives, we find a few explicitly Fascist/Nazi characters, such as Orazio Grifaci by Carlo Brighenti and Welf Schurke by Romualdo Natoli, alongside less openly politicised figures such as Romano Bonichi by Alessandro Varaldo and Commissario De Vincenzi by De Angelis. Varaldo, who was nicknamed by his publisher Mondadori ‘il Wallace italiano’, was affiliated with Fascism [7], but his detective Bonichi is far from being a Fascist hero. De Angelis who was also praised by critics for writing ‘truly italian’ crime fiction, claimed in one of his prefaces: ‘Io ho voluto e voglio fare un romanzo poliziesco italiano (…)’ (1940, 13-14). However, De Angelis’ patriotism was more ambiguous; while his anti-Fascist leanings only became manifest in the last years of his life, his depiction of Italian society was untouched by the regime’s propaganda.

Conclusion

To conclude, looking at the translated origins of Italian crime fiction is fundamental for understanding the development of the genre and what have come to be regarded as its distinctively Italian features. The use of regional dialects, the social investigation, the complex relationship with power an authority, and the elements of noir, are the result of a complex history that has its roots in translation. Italian crime fiction of the 1930s and early 1940s has often been dismissed by scholars and critics as a failed experiment. On the contrary, I argue that the cultural and literary roles played by crime fiction in Fascist Italy should not be overlooked. Translations of foreign crime fiction, which flooded the Italian market over the 1930s, provided Italian writers with a new literary form to articulate the anxieties and tensions of their time which had been repressed in official culture. Processes of identity construction and negotiation, which were central to the Fascist experience, are particularly evident in crime fiction written and translated during these years.

Notes

1. In 1931, the MinCulPop imposed that between 15 and 20 percent of all published crime fiction should be written by Italian authors (Crovi 2002, 15)

2. Interestingly, recent scholarship on crime fiction holds a similar view of 1930s Italian detective novels as a derivative genre, with low literary value. See for instance the reference to the ‘agonizzante giallo italiano’ in Anton, A. (ed.), L’Almanacco del delitto: storia e antologia del “Cerchio Verde” (Palermo: Sellerio, 1990), p. 23.

3. See in particular the work of Oreste del Buono, starting with the special issue of La Lettura entitled “Esiste il giallo Italiano?” (February 1980) and that of Luca Somigli (2005).

4. See Francesco De Nicola’s critical editions of Alessandro Varaldo’s work and his essay “Varaldo e l’undicesimo comandamento : non annoiare” in Alessandro Varaldo, Alla ricerca di un Tesoro (Genoa: ECIG, 1989), pp 7-37.

5. Loris Rambelli, Ezio D’Errico: paura e fascinazione (Florence: Pirani, 2012)

6. The 1920s and 1930s have been referred to as the Golden Age of crime fiction (Symons 1985; Plain 2001). Over this decade, the figure of the classic detective was born, and Anglo-American writers worked towards a common definition of the genre.

7. in 1928, Varaldo was among the signatories of the telegraph sent to Mussolini by the “Gruppo d’azione per servire il Romanzo italiano in Italia ed all’estero”.

Bibliography

Anton, Edoardo, ed. 1990. L’Almanacco del delitto: storia e antologia del “ Cerchio verde “. Palermo: Sellerio.

Arnaudo, Marco. 2011. “Parodie, clonazioni e ibridazioni. L’inquieto rapporto coi modelli stranieri nel giallo italiano delle origini”, Strumenti critici I, 107-130.

Carloni, Massimo. 1994. L’Italia in giallo: geografia e storia del giallo italiano contemporaneo (Reggio Emilia: Diabasis)

Chu, Mark. 2001. “Giallo sarai tu! Hegemonic Representations and Limits of Heteroglossia in Carlo Lucarelli” Spunti e Ricerche 16: 45-58.

Crovi, Luca. 2002. Tutti i colori del giallo . Venice: Marsilio.

De Angelis, Augusto. 1940. Le sette picche doppiate . Milan: Minerva.

Guagnini, Emilio. 1979. “ L’importazione di un genere: il ‘giallo’ italiano tra gli anni Trenta e gli inizi degli anni Quaranta” in Trivialliteratur? Letterature di massa e di consumo , (Trieste: Lint), p. 457.

Orsi, Gianfranco, and Lia Volpatti. 1988. “ Il giallo Mondadori dal 1929 al 1941 ” in G. Petronio (ed.), Il giallo degli anni trenta, Trieste: Edizioni Lint, pp. 277-82.

Petronio, Giuseppe. 1979. Letteratura di massa, letteratura di consumo . Bari: Laterza (2000)

Pezzotti, Barbara. 2014. Politics and Society in Italian Crime Fiction: An Historical Overview. Jefferson, NC: McFarland.

Pieri, Giuliana, ed. 2011. Italian crime fiction. Cardiff: University of Wales Press.

Pistelli, Maurizio. 2006. Un secolo in giallo: storia del poliziesco italiano (1860-1960). Donzelli: Rome.

Rambelli, Loris. 1979 . Storia del “giallo” italiano . Milan: Garzanti.

——————-. 2012. Ezio D’Errico: paura e fascinazione. Florence: Pirani.

Savinio, Alberto. 1982. Palchetti romani , ed. by Alessandro Tinterri. Milan: Adelphi.

Somigli, Luca. 2005. “The Realism of Detective Fiction: Augusto De Angelis , Theorist of the Italian Giallo” Symposium 59: 70-83

Symons, Julian. 1985 (1972). Bloody Murder: From the Detective Story to the Crime Novel . Reprint, Middlesex: Penguin Books.

Terracina, Egidio. 1936. “Ancora del teatro giallo”, Corriere padano, 25 January, p. 3.

Alla Venetiana. Two new books on Venice.

Thu, 28 Aug 2014 08:42:00 GMT

For those readers who did not receive invitations to George’s wedding in Venice, here are a couple of consolation prizes. Richard Bosworth’s latest book, Italian Venice: A History (Yale UP, 2014), offers a characteristically engaging account of the city since the fall of the Republic in 1797, covering inter alia the most significant contemporary issues: […]

Migration Blues: Readings and songs from ‘Schizophrenia Migrantis’

Thu, 28 Aug 2014 08:12:00 GMT

According to Danilo Sidari, ‘schizophrenia migrantis’ is a state of mind affecting the majority of migrants (regardless of their ethnicity) and caused by a strong feeling of homesickness. The malaise mainly shows itself in a sense of displacement generating a sort of “grey psychological zone” where cultural identity is not clearly defined. At the Museo Italiano, Carlton , on 16 October at 6.30pm , Danilo Sidari will be reading excerpts of stories from his book Schizophrenia Migrantis , and performing songs alongside the pianist Mauro Colombis.

The author:

Danilo Sidari was born in 1957 in Sanremo. His first encounter with literature took place in Liguria in 1990. In 1995 he moved to Sydney, where he currently works to promote Italian culture. Danilo has collaborated with the monthly Italian-Australian Nuovo Paese, with La Fiamma/Il Globo and the website Mentelocale.it for many years. He has written and conducted various radio programs for SBS Radio on Italian music of the 20th century, about artists such as Battisti, De André, and le cantautrici. Danilo has also won numerous awards for literary competitions in both Italy and Australia. Schizophrenia Migrantis , published in 2012, is his first book. He is currently working on his second book, Liguritudine , a collection of short stories set in Liguria.

The musician:

Mauro Colombis was born in Padova, Italy. He began playing the piano at the age of six and holds two masters degrees in piano performance (from Moscow and Venice) and a bachelor’s degree from DAMS in Bologna. He has performed in concerts as a soloist, in pianistic duos, and other chamber orchestras in Australia and various European countries. In 2009, Mauro improvised a concert with Djalu Gurruwiwi, a well-known aboriginal didgeridoo player. In 2002 he specialised in playing the piano for silent films, including those featured in Italian film festivals (Le Giornate del Cinema Muto) and in Australian film festivals. Mauro has also composed the music for ‘The Story of the Kelly Gang’.

In 2007 Danilo and Mauro collaborated to promote Italian musicians in Australia. One of their most memorable concerts titled ‘Amico Fragile’, a tribute to Fabrizio de André on the 10th anniversary of the Ligurian songwriter’s death, took place in 2009 at the Sydney conservatorium. In 2010, directed by Riccardo Schirru, Danilo and Mauro replicated the performance at the Clock Tower theatre in Moonee Ponds.

Date: Thursday, 16th October 2014, at 6.30 pm

Where: Museo Italiano, Co.As.It., 199 Faraday Street, Carlton 3053

RSVP: ihs@coasit.com.au; (03)9349 9021

‘Ugly Secrets’? Primo Levi and the Resistance

Wed, 27 Aug 2014 13:49:00 GMT

At the end of October Levi, nine other men and two women had formed a mostly Jewish ‘partisan band’ (the word Resistance was not yet being used ). Only two of the men had some military experience; the others had been barred from military service by the 1938 Race Laws. The band, like all other bands being formed at that time, lacked everything: money, food, weapons, information, and contacts with the political anti-Fascist underground. This made it easy for the Fascist Militia to select competent officers who had the task of going undercover into the bands. Two of them infiltrated Levi’s band. Early in the morning of 13 December, the first round-up of anti-Fascist fighters in occupied Italy took place in Amay: the Fascist Militia surrounded the small hotel which sheltered Levi’s band, arrested five members, including Levi, and took them to Aosta. Levi and the two women admitted that they were Jews and were sent to the internment camp in Fossoli, from which they left on 22 February 1944 in a sealed railway car bound for Auschwitz.

In 2013 two books were published within a few months of each other. The first, Il lungo viaggio di Primo Levi , by the sociologist Frediano Sessi, focuses specifically on Levi, from his arrival in the Aosta Valley to his arrival in Auschwitz. The second, by the historian Sergio Luzzatto, is an investigation of the whole Resistance movement in the Aosta valley and is entitled Partigia , a Piedmontese abbreviation of partigiani , which Levi himself used with an emphasis on the connotations “spregiudicato, deciso, svelto di mano” (II, 561). Both books discuss in great detail one event which took place in the brief life of Levi’s band, four days before the Fascist raid. On 9 December 1943 the band sentenced two very young members, 18-year-old Fulvio Oppezzo and 17-year-old Luciano Zabaldano, to death and executed them with a volley of machine-gun fire in the back. The episode, also mentioned in the two reputable biographies of Levi (Ian Thomson’s Primo Levi and Carole Angier’s The Double Bond ), produced an historical and cultural debate which went on for two months in the Italian media. This debate is interesting because it throws a little light not only on Levi, but also on what the British historian John Foot, in the title of an important book published in 2009, calls Italy’s Divided Memory , namely “the tendency for divergent or contradictory narratives to emerge after events, and to be elaborated and interpreted in private stories as well as through forms of public commemoration.”

In spite of their research (in Luzzatto’s case, very thorough, scholarly research), neither of the two authors – just as neither of Levi’s two biographers – is able to specify what exactly Oppezzo and Zabaldano were charged with, and what, if any, evidence lay behind the charges. They may have threatened to shoot other members of the band or betray them to the Social Republic. They may have either stolen food or taken food or money from the local farmers, telling them that they were requisitioning supplies for a partisan band and then keeping what they had taken for themselves. They may, as the historian and Levi scholar Alberto Cavaglion recently suggested, have threatened a Hungarian Jewish refugee who was in hiding near Amay, and thus contributed to her suicide. What is known is that after their deaths Oppezzo and Zabaldano were registered as having “fallen while fighting for the Resistance”, an ‘official version’ which went unchallenged until the publication of the two books.

Men being killed by their comrades, for reasons that are frequently left unexplained, is something that happens in all wars, and is usually kept quiet or glossed over. Partisan summary justice was to a large extent kept out of Italian historiography for over 30 years, as were other episodes of violence carried out by partisans during and after the war, because a positive, heroic Resistance narrative was seen as necessary in order to redeem the reputation of the Italian people and to defend the values of anti-fascism as the Cold War began and developed.

The silence of historians was compensated by literature. Several fiction texts represented partisan executions as inevitable, with human compassion tempered by considerations of justice. Beppe Fenoglio’s story ‘Vecchio Blister’, from I ventitre giorni della città di Alba (1952), ends with the swift execution of a member of a partisan unit who has been found guilty of armed robbery: “[Blister] corse avanti con le mani protese come a tappar la bocca dell’arma di Set e cosí i primi colpi gli bucarono le mani.” In Saverio Tutino’s collection La ragazza scalza (1975) the story ‘Morti male’ ends with sombre comments about the execution of two partisans who had stolen from a farmer: “quando uno ruba e gli altri se ne accorgono, non e’ piu’ un partigiano, puo’ fare anche la spia.” Luigi Meneghello’s I piccoli maestri (1964) starkly depicts the effects an execution has on those who decide it and carry it out: “Si e’ in piedi, quasi ci si tocca. In una specie di scossa perdi quella radice che chiami te stesso, pare di morire insieme.” And Primo Levi never hid or glossed over the decision taken by the members of his band. He describes it, not in detail but in strongly emotional terms, in the story ‘Oro’, first published in 1974 and reprinted the following year in Il sistema periodico :

[F]ra noi, in ognuna delle nostre menti, pesava un segreto brutto: lo stesso segreto che ci aveva esposti alla cattura, spegnendo in noi, pochi giorni prima, ogni volontà di esistere, anzi di vivere. Eravamo stati costretti dalla nostra coscienza ad eseguire una condanna, e l’avevamo eseguita, ma ne eravamo usciti distrutti, destituiti, desiderosi che tutto finisse e di finire noi stessi (I, 853).

He had indirectly referred to the “segreto brutto” as early as 1952, in the poem ‘Epigrafe’. In the manner of Edgar Lee Masters’ Spoon River Anthology , a dead partisan tells his story:

O tu che segni, passeggero del colle,
Uno fra i molti, questa non piú solitaria neve,
Porgimi ascolto: ferma per pochi istanti il tuo corso
Qui dove m’hanno sepolto, senza lacrime, i miei compagni
[. . .]
Da non molti anni qui giaccio io, Micca partigiano,
Spento dai miei compagni per mia non lieve colpa,
Né molti piú ne avevo quando l’ombra mi colse. (II, 537)

The controversy on Levi’s ‘secret’ triggered by the books by Sessi and Luzzatto is one of the many echoes that the “divided memory” of the Resistance still has in 21 ^st -century Italy. In the 1990s, with the end of the “first Republic” and the weakening of traditional anti-fascist memory, there was a rebirth of right-wing historiography questioning the Resistance and focusing on partisan violence during and after the war and implying that, if the hands of partisans were stained with innocent blood, the boundaries between partisans and fascists were blurred: there were violence, dead young people and innocent victims on both sides, and thus both partisans and fascists deserve equal condemnation and equal sympathy.

In this spirit, Luzzatto’s book was reviewed positively, enthusiastically in fact, by right-wing newspapers. Levi’s attitude, in their view, had been at best silent acquiescence and at worst collaboration in, and concealment of, one of the many murders committed by partisans and ignored by historians. The most outspoken of Berlusconi’s daily papers, Libero , entitled its review “Se questa è Resistenza”, a jeering reference to the title of Levi’s Se questo è un uomo . The conservative Il Giornale stated, with no evidence whatsoever, that the “the two boys’ crime had been stealing some food” and that Levi “did not shoot, but took part in deciding the summary execution together with the leaders.”

At the same time as revisionist historiography, however, published research by left-wing historians – starting with Claudio Pavone’s Una guerra civile (1991) and including Cavaglion, Santo Peli, Giovanni De Luna and Giovanni Contini – provided less heroic, more complex accounts of the Resistance, acknowledging its dark as well as its positive sides while stressing that, with all its problems and contradictions, it was, in Sergio Luzzatto’s own words, “l’evento fondativo dell’identità repubblicana”. Left-wing reviewers defended Levi, fearing that the accusations of ‘taking part in murder’ and ‘being silent about it’ would have the effect of problematising his credibility not only about this episode, but also about his Holocaust testimony. The journalist Gad Lerner wondered if Luzzatto had tried to turn Levi’s notion of the “grey zone” against Levi himself, and to imply that the execution of Oppezzo and Zabaldano had cast an indelible shadow over all of Levi’s subsequent life and works. Another journalist writing in La Repubblica , Corrado Augias, argued that the motive behind the praises for Partigia was the wish not only to ‘debunk’ the Resistance, but to disown it, and its values, and its most important legacy, the 1948 Constitution.

The truth about the deaths of Oppezzo and Zabaldano, and Levi’s part in them, will probably never be known. With respect to Levi, research on him (or on any other writer) should not have the aim of making him into a saint or cutting him down to size; researchers should acknowledge both the integrity of his ruthless self-judgement and the courage he and his friends showed in the choice they made almost immediately after the armistice.

Note : All references to Levi’s works are from the two-volume Opere (Turin, Einaudi, 1997).

Burning emotions: Giovanni Tarantino at the Museo Italiano, Thursday 25 September 2014, at 6.30 pm

Wed, 27 Aug 2014 10:39:00 GMT

Dr Giovanni Tarantino is a widely published academic who graduated with an Mlitt (Laurea) in History in 1999. He received his MA (Media and Communication) in 2001 and his PhD in Early Modern History in 2004 from the University of Florence, Italy. He has written a study of the freethinker and book collector Anthony Collins (1676-1729), and numerous other works in both English and Italian. Dr Tarantino’s main research interest lies in the history of tolerance and intolerance towards religious minorities in the early modern era. In 2008-9 Dr Tarantino was chosen as the Hans Kohn Member in the School of Historical Studies at the Princeton Institute of Advanced Study (IAS) and was elected a Fellow of the Royal Historical Society in 2013. He is currently a Post-Doctoral Research Fellow of the ARC Centre of Excellence for the History of Emotions (Europe 1100-1800) at the University of Melbourne.

Where: Museo Italiano, Co.As.It., 199 Faraday Street, Carlton 3053
RSVP: ihs@coasit.com.au; (03)9349 9021

The story of Terra matta

Thu, 31 Jul 2014 07:44:00 GMT

Those who know Vincenzo Rabito’s autobiography published as Terra matta (Einaudi, 2007) or have seen the film Terramatta; Il Novecento italiano di Vincenzo Rabito analfabeta siciliano (2012) will be interested in the recent special issue of the Journal of Modern Italian Studies (2014, vol. 19, no.3) dedicated to the analysis of both book and film. The highlights are […]

Tales and Visions: Antonio Tabucchi and the Iconic Temptations of his Fiction

Sat, 26 Jul 2014 11:02:00 GMT

Michela Meschini is a lecturer in Comparative Literature at the University of Macerata, where she has also been associate Researcher in Modern and Contemporary Italian Literature with a project on the relationship between literature and the visual arts. She holds a PhD from University College London and was Visiting Professor in Italian at the Université de Montréal (Canada) from 2009 to 2011. Her main research areas include late twentieth-century Italian literature, postmodern theory, visual studies and migration literature. She has published essays on the fiction of Antonio Tabucchi and other Italian writers such as Italo Calvino and Giuseppe Pontiggia. Her current research focuses on travel literature and contemporary travel writing.

RSVP and further inquiries: ihs@coasit.com.au ; (03)9349 9021

Al di là di Trieste: una letteratura di confine ancora poco nota

Wed, 25 Jun 2014 12:01:00 GMT

Oltre alla maggior parte della penisola istriana, incluse le cittadine di Pola (Pula) e Rovigno (Rovinj), passavano alla Jugoslavia anche le città dalmate di Fiume (Rijeka) e Zara (Zadar). In realtà il TLT non venne mai costituito e l’area in questione rimase divisa in due zone: la zona A — comprendente la città di Trieste, la cittadina costiera di Muggia e uno stretto corridoio che univa i due centri all’Italia — continuò ad essere amministrata da un governo militare alleato, mentre la zona B rimase in mano all’amministrazione militare iugoslava. Nell’autunno del 1954, Italia e Iugoslavia firmarono il Memorandum di Londra che prevedeva il passaggio dell’amministrazione della zona A dall’AMG (Allied Military Government) all’Italia e della zona B dalla VUJA (Vojna Uprava Jugoslavenske Armije) alla Iugoslavia. Questa situazione si protrasse fino al 1975, anno in cui si firmò il Trattato di Osimo.

Fino agli anni ’90 scarso è stato l’interesse per i travagliati cambiamenti sul confine orientale italiano. Nell’introduzione al suo volume Profughi (2005), Gianni Oliva pone espliciti interrogativi in merito al silenzio calato su questi eventi:

Perché nel nostro paese, a partire dalla metà degli anni Cinquanta, non si è quasi mai scritto né parlato di questa vicenda? Perché il dramma di centinaia di migliaia di persone è diventato una memoria negata, esclusa dalla consapevolezza storica nazionale e confinata nella sola coscienza locale giuliana o in quella privata dei profughi? (p. 4)

Eppure a seguito del trattato di pace di Parigi (1947) in prima istanza, e del Memorandum di Londra a seguire, molte furono le partenze da questi territori. Partivano prevalentemente gli italiani. Quantificare questo fenomeno migratorio che iniziò sul finire della seconda guerra mondiale e proseguì fino agli anni ’50 non è compito facile. La maggioranza degli studi sull’argomento citano cifre che vanno dai 250 mila (Raoul Pupo, Il lungo esodo , 2005) ai 350 mila individui (Enrico Miletto, Con il mare negli occhi , 2005). I diritti di opzione che inizialmente dovevano chiudersi nel 1948 furono infatti più volte prolungati fino alla definitiva chiusura nel gennaio del ’56. La maggioranza di coloro che lasciarono l’Istria e la Dalmazia si stabilirono all’interno dei nuovi confini italiani. Sparsi lungo la penisola italiana si contavano 109 campi profughi che accolsero le genti istro-dalmate. Altri esuli presero invece la strada dell’espatrio oltreoceano in direzione delle Americhe, dell’Australia e della Nuova Zelanda.

Si è spesso utilizzato il termine “esodo” per indicare queste partenze di massa. Più consono appare il lemma “esilio” poiché capace di designare sia lo stato di coloro che partirono (gli “andati”), sia l’esilio interno degli italiani che decisero di rimanere nei territori ceduti (i “rimasti”). Con il suo celebrato libro Esilio (1996), lo scrittore e giornalista Enzo Bettiza aprì una prima porta sulla storia di queste terre di frontiera che rimase ufficialmente archiviata fino al 2004, anno dell’istituzione del Giorno del Ricordo (10 febbraio) con cui si commemora l’esodo giuliano-dalmata e le vittime delle foibe. Così rammentava la sua condizione di esule lo scrittore spalatino:

Mi accorsi di aver tentato di estirpare a poco a poco dalla memoria il variegato microcosmo di frontiera in cui ero nato e da cui, esule senza fissa destinazione, ero partito alla cieca per il mondo (p. 9).

In Torn Identities (Troubador, 2013) esploro il “microcosmo di frontiera” di cui racconta Bettiza e in particolare la condizione di chi proviene da un luogo scomparso dalle attuali cartine geografiche. In questo caso si tratta dell’Istria e della Dalmazia italiane e della stessa Iugoslavia, ma la geopolitica dell’età contemporanea ci ha offerto numerosi esempi di situazioni di questo tipo. In questo saggio mi sono concentrata sulla scrittura delle donne analizzando una selezione di scritti di genere vario, che vanno dall’autobiografia all’autofinzione, passando attraverso il memoir e lo scambio epistolare. I testi analizzati, tutti scritti in italiano, sono frutto della mano di cinque autrici accomunate dal fatto di essere nate in Istria o Dalmazia: Kenka Lekovich, Marisa Madieri, Anna Maria Mori, Nelida Milani e Giuliana Zelco. Due le generazioni in questione: Kenka Lekovich nacque a Fiume-Rijeka quando la città era già sotto l’amministrazione iugoslava, le altre quattro scrittrici erano bambine all’epoca della seconda guerra mondiale. Tra queste ultime, Zelco, Mori e Madieri, lasciato il loro paese d’origine per ristabilirsi all’interno dei nuovi confini italiani, sono esponenti degli “andati”. Milani, la cui famiglia decise di rimanere a Pola-Pula, diventò parte della comunità dei “rimasti”.

Ispirata dalla “filosofia della narrazione” di Adriana Cavarero, ho seguito il percorso tracciato da queste vite narrate. Il saggio non indaga la disputa geopolitica tra Italia e Iugoslavia. Ne esplora invece le conseguenze sul piano identitario. Il libro è suddiviso in tre parti tematiche. La prima parte si concentra sull’analisi dei luoghi: dagli spazi esterni dei paesaggi rurali ed urbani a quelli interni, ovvero gli spazi domestici, senza tralasciare lo spazio di transizione del confine. I luoghi formano una griglia spaziale su cui si snoda il percorso della memoria. La seconda parte, la memoria dei luoghi, si focalizza sulla ricostruzione dell’asse temporale passato-presente interrotto bruscamente e drammaticamente dall’esperienza dell’esilio. Nella terza parte ho voluto infine includere le interviste con le scrittrici.

Appointment of Honorary Research Associate: Paolo Bartoloni

Sun, 01 Jun 2014 13:35:00 GMT

We are delighted to appoint Professor Paolo Bartoloni from the National University of Ireland, Galway, as an Honorary Research Associate of ACIS during his visit to Australia from July to September this year. Paolo will be based for part of the period at the University of the Sunshine Coast (Qld) and will also be giving seminars at […]

Stillness in motion: Italy, photography, modernity

Mon, 12 May 2014 08:41:00 GMT

site specific_ROMA 04 © OLIVO BARBIERI

Contemplating the first daguerreotypes of “a motionless, lunar Italy, suspended over bottomless pasts,” the social historian Giulio Bollati wondered how photography could fulfill its modernizing vocation in such a timeless and pastoral scene. What happens when photography encounters this “deviant and peculiar” historical environment? Would such “backwardness” alter or impair photography’s meanings and its expression of industrial Europe? What does Italian cultural history look like studied through the lens of photographic technology? How does the Italian context speak to photographic theory in general?

Stillness in Motion: Italy, Photography and the Meanings of Modernity (University of Toronto Press, forthcoming 2015), coedited by Sarah Patricia Hill and Giuliana Minghelli, seeks to answer these questions. It takes as its premise the idea that trying to understand the impact of photographic practices in Italy means trying to understand Italy’s relation to modernity. In exploring what photography reveals about Italian culture (probing issues of national identity, theories of art, notions of modernity) it also examines photography from the perspective of specific Italian cultural phenomena (futurism, neorealism, the paparazzi, terrorism). It argues that the study of photography as artistic medium, everyday practice and cultural object provides a point of entry to the relations Italian culture has entertained with technology and modernity from Unification to today and offers new perspectives on this endlessly fascinating medium.

The contributors – art historians, cinema, cultural studies and literature scholars, artists and theorists – approach photography as a rich and unstable entity: a technology that embodies and inflects modernity, a cultural practice that affects every sector of Italian society and a material object embedded in new social and artistic realities. The chapters explore how literature, the social sciences, the artistic avant-garde, cinema, popular culture, and politics have confronted and appropriated photography, and how photography in turn has inhabited and shaped Italian culture.

Through a series of historically located encounters, Stillness in Motion shows how photography is appropriated to serve nationalist, propagandistic or commercial ends, yet consistently escapes and critiques any ideological containment. Over the course of the book, Italy’s historical and cultural belatedness unfolds as a productive critical moment, allowing both an oblique view of modernity and a reframing of our contemporary relation with the photographic medium.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Sarah Patricia Hill and Giuliana Minghelli: Introduction

Part I National Beginnings and Modernist Fears

1. Roberta Valtorta, with Sarah Patricia Hill and Giuliana Minghelli: Photography and the Construction of Italian National Identity

2. Maria Grazia Lolla: Local Colour and the Grey Aura of Modernity: Photography, Literature, and the Social Sciences in Fin-de-Siècle Italy

3. Giuliana Minghelli: Eternal Speed/Omnipresent Immobility. Futurism and Photography

Part II Modern Memory Objects: Social Histories of the Photograph

4. Giogia Alù: The Peripatetic Portrait: Exchange and Performance in Studio Photographs of Migrants at the Turn of the Nineteenth Century

5. Luca Cottini: Presente! The Latent Memory of Italy’s Great War in its Photographic Portraits

Part III Photography and the Acceleration of Modernity: Reality-Commodity-Violence

6. Barbara Grespi: Italian Neo-Realism between Cinema and Photography

7. Sarah Patricia Hill: Photographic Excess: “Scandalous” Photography in Film and Literature after the Boom

8. Christian Uva: Images of Violence, Violence of Images: The ‘Years of Lead’ and the Practice of Armed Struggle between Photography and Video

Part IV Critiques of Modernity: Stillness, Motion, and the Ethics of Seeing

9. Robert Lumley: The Body in and of the Image in the Films of Yervant Gianikian and Angela Ricci Lucchi

10. Marina Spunta: Interfaces of Photography, Writing, and Landscape: The Landscape Photobook from Ghirri to Fossati and Messori

Part V Documents and Experiences

11. Umberto Eco: A Photograph

12. Franco Vaccari: Photography and the Ready-Made; Apollo and Daphne: A Myth for Photography; Giuliana Minghelli: Interview with Franco Vaccari.

William Kent: Designing Georgian Britain (under Italian influence)

Wed, 07 May 2014 16:22:00 GMT

Chiswick House with statue of Palladio © Devonshire Collection, Chatsworth

Anyone heading to London in the next couple of months or so may want to check out the current exhibition being held at the V&A, William Kent: Designing Georgian Britain . While the title itself doesn’t convey any obvious Italian links, like so many others who made the Grand Tour during the eighteenth century, Kent was very much influenced by the art and culture of Italy. This is especially thought-provoking here as the organisers present Kent, who was a painter, designer, and architect, as integral to the development of a style of art that reflected the ideals of a new, Georgian, British nation. (The exhibition is one of a number of events this year that celebrate the 300th year anniversary of the Hanoverian accession to the throne in 1714.)

View at Tivoli © Victoria and Albert Museum, London

Inspired by the artworks he had studied on his travels in Italy and during his ten-year stay in Rome, on Kent’s return to England in 1719 he created an aesthetic that appealed to many of the important political and cultural figures of the day. These were British gentlemen who had themselves travelled in Italy as young Grand Tourists and who looked to its classical and Renaissance past as a means of expressing a contemporary learned and civilising ideal. Lord Burlington, who was instrumental in the establishment of the Neo-Palladian architectural style, was Kent’s most influential and supportive patron. So successfully and, by all reports, charmingly did Kent champion Italian models in the creation of this new style of British design that he was also known as “the Signor” or “Kentino”.

Royal barge © RIBA Library Drawings Collection

The exhibition was co-organised by the Bard Graduate Center in New York City where it was initially installed until February of this year. In addition to visiting the exhibition I was able to attend a couple of linked events organised by the BGC, including a symposium that re-examined the work of Kent, and a lecture by the American landscape architect Laurie Olin regarding Kent’s garden design. The influence of Italy can be seen throughout the artist’s work and the examples chosen for the exhibition convey the scope of his output, which included paintings, drawings, book illustration (Alexander Pope’s translation of the Odyssey being one prominent example), as well as designs for buildings, furniture, decorative objects, a royal barge, and gardens.

The exedra, Chiswick

Kent’s name is of course inextricably tied to the English landscape style of garden design and he was indeed one of its founding fathers. Yet in reconsidering Kent, some of the speakers at the BGC events emphasised that he should not be thought of as the lone genius in this development and that the landscape garden did not just spring unheralded from a decidedly English conception of nature. That was the impression that Horace Walpole gave in the later eighteenth century when he declared of Kent: “He leaped the fence and saw that all nature was a garden.” In recent years, garden historians have suggested a more comprehensive understanding of the puzzle that is the origins of the English landscape style. The villas and gardens of Italy are a part of that puzzle. In his lecture, Laurie Olin examined this link, drawing attention to similarities between the gardens Kent designed for the British landed gentry and Italian, particularly Roman, villas. Olin argued that during his ten years in Rome, Kent was able to experience these spaces directly. Not only did he borrow artistic motifs from the Italian garden for his English designs (as can be seen in the accompanying images to this post), but he also specified plantings, such as cedars of Lebanon, which would have recalled another time and place to the contemporary British country house visitor.

Alexander Pope’s garden at Twickenham © The Trustees of the British Museum

As Olin himself pointed out, he is not the only scholar to focus on the influence of Italy in the development of the English landscape garden, citing Georgina Masson and Susan Lang in this regard. Indeed Lang and the prominent garden historian John Dixon Hunt have raised the possibility that Kent was likewise influenced by the Italian theatre. This subject also calls for a gratifying reference to a colleague in Australia, for the Melbourne-based art historian Katrina Grant (no relation!), has further examined the connection between Roman theatrical scenography and Kent’s landscape designs. Her essay , in Roma Britannica: Art Patronage and Cultural Exchange in Eighteenth-Century Rome, suggests that rather than recreating a painting in three dimensions, as is often stated of Kent’s approach to the garden, his landscapes functioned analogously to stage sets that depended on the physical interaction of actors to enliven the scene. As an example, Grant draws attention to Kent’s drawing, View of the Shell Temple in Alexander Pope’s Garden, Twickenham . On the left of the work the presence of an illusory mythological scene within the representation of an actual garden implies that experience of the physical space could prompt creative imaginings and interactions. It is heartening to see this focus on the experiential aspect of the garden, a relatively recent development in the field of garden and landscape studies, and it parallels my own research approach to the eighteenth-century Veneto villa.

Landscape at Chiswick © Devonshire Collection, Chatsworth

And speaking of experiencing the country estate directly, an advantage of seeing the Kent exhibition in London rather than New York of course is that the visitor is then closer to a number of properties to which it refers. The V&A provides a handy map to those in the south of England. These include Chiswick House, one of the most handsome Neo-Palladian villas in Britain, which was designed by Lord Burlington with Kent’s assistance. In addition to the gardens of Chiswick House, those of Stowe in Buckingham and, particularly, those of Rousham House in Oxfordshire provide the opportunity of visiting the English landscapes of Kent and of discovering their Italian influences by oneself. Rousham is still owned by the Dormer family, descendants of General James Dormer who commissioned Kent, and it allows for a glimpse into a still-private world. While we must be thankful for all that the National Trust does to preserve the historic buildings of the UK, and I can’t be the only one who would not wish to return the days of Downton Abbey (where, as much as I would have wished to deliver the caustic wit of Maggie Smith’s Dowager Countess of Grantham, I fear that I would almost certainly have been a scullery or chamber maid), there is a nostalgic appeal for places that appear to take you back, unmediated, to times past. That seems to be the case at Rousham where, to cite Patrick Taylor in The Oxford Companion to the Garden : “[there is] no trace of the heritage industry – visitors have the impression of being in a private estate. There is no pressure, indeed no possibility, to buy postcards or cream teas. To wander in its finely cared-for 12 hectares/30 acres is one of the most marvellous pleasures that any garden can offer. Horace Walpole thought that Rousham was ‘the most engaging of all Kent’s works. It is Kentissimo.’”

Ever wanted to see how translation works?

Wed, 30 Apr 2014 23:47:00 GMT

Have you ever wondered how translation actually works? Where do translators begin, what is their process, and how long does it take? Colleagues based in Melbourne will get a chance to find out at Translation Nation , an innovative event taking place in late May, as part of the Emerging Writers’ Festival.

Translation might be a mystery to most, but it’s an essential part of our literary tradition and the world of writing. At this unique event, you’ll have a chance to watch a single text in English – a prose poem by emerging writer Oscar Schwartz –being translated into multiple languages – Chinese (Mandarin), Italian , Indonesian and Spanish. Walk around a room dedicated to translation, take a seat and watch the art of translation live, and ask as many questions as you like of the translators. Wake your passion for language! The live translation will be followed by a panel discussion with four of Australia’s most exciting emerging translators, exploring translation as a creative act and the growing market for translation, as well as the challenges posed by the text selected for the day’s activity.

Featuring Lintao Qi, Angela Tarantini, Olivia Waren, Alice Whitmore and Brigid Maher.

The event is sponsored by Monash University.

1-3 PM, Wednesday 28 May 2014
The Wheeler Centre
176 Little Lonsdale Street, Melbourne (accessible venue)
Admission is FREE

Click here to hear Brigid Maher and Angela Tarantini interviewed by Magica Fossati on SBS Italian radio about the event.

25 aprile 2014: 69° anniversario della Liberazione a Milano, Città Medaglia d’Oro della Resistenza

Fri, 25 Apr 2014 18:06:00 GMT

Se c’è una discrepanza tra la Costituzione e la realtà, non si cambia la Costituzione, si cambia la realtà (Carlo Smuraglia, Presidente Nazionale ANPI, dal palco della Festa della Liberazione dell’Italia dal nazifascismo, Piazza Duomo, Milano, 25 aprile 2014).

1. L’Euro, la Crisi, le Tasse (queste sconosciute?): l’altro lato del corteo della Festa della Liberazione.

2. Le Bandiere, gli Striscioni e i Cartelli (disclaimer: una selezione NON esaustiva).

Belle (vocche curalline) oneste (simm ‘e Napule) sposerebbero ….

Thu, 24 Apr 2014 08:38:00 GMT

Remember the story of Carmela and Amedeo? (You cried a bit). Now, thanks to Louisa Mignone and Andrea Demetriades, you can meet their distant rellies Sofia and Liliana and Federico and Umberto. Same bush, same sandwiches (yep, still sweet), different script. Latte e Miele, a short gem which tells a fragment of the quartet’s story […]

Palaces, skyscrapers, villas, follies ….. and six styles of architectural luxury

Wed, 23 Apr 2014 07:15:00 GMT

She examines the ethical questions raised by the nature of luxury in architecture since changing Ideas of the extent of permissible luxury have informed architecture and the degree of ethical approval its forms attract. Providing voluptuous settings for the nobles and the leisure class, luxury has taken the form not only of grand palaces but also of follies, country and suburban houses, private or public entertainment venues and ornate skyscrapers with fast lifts. The Architecture of Luxury suggests that in Western societies the growth of the leisure classes and their desire for settings for pleasure have produced a constantly increasing search for ‘luxury’ in everyday architecture. Take a copy of her book with you as you soar skywards in the temporarily tallest building in the world in Dubai, Moscow, London …. in fact almost anywhere except skyscraper-lite Italy where the highest building, the Torre Unicredit in Milan, ranks only a lowly 21st in Europe (Italy’s early leader, the Torre Piacentini in Genoa, was overhauled in 1952).

The Internment Diaries of Mario Sardi

Wed, 23 Apr 2014 07:09:00 GMT

Ilma Martinuzzi O'Brien will present her most recent book, The Internment Diaries of Mario Sardi (Alphington, Victoria: Lucerne Press, 2013), on Wednesday 7 May at 6.30pm at the Museo Italiano, 199 Faraday Street Carlton 3053. The event will be introduced by Tony Pagliaro . It's free and will conclude with a Q & A session and book signing. Please signal your intention to attend here or by phone (03 9349 9021).

During the Second World War 4,855 Australian residents of Italian origin were interned under the National Security Act. This represented one-fifth of the total number of Australians of Italian origin. However, seventy years later the internment story is not well remembered except by those families whose loved ones were snatched unexpectedly and imprisoned during the war.

One of them, Mario Sardi, an Italian immigrant from the Isola d’Elba, spent 21 months behind barbed wire, from February 1942 to December 1943, in Loveday Camp 14A, a camp which was especially set up for the detention of Australian resident civilians. This book is the first publication in English of a diary written by an Italian detainee of an internment camp; it records what it was like for civilians to be “captured” because they were Italian, placed in detention thousands of miles from home and held without trial for months and years.

The diary has been set in the context of the war and Australian society by Melbourne historian and academic Ilma Martinuzzi O’Brien, who has included details taken from official records relating to many of those mentioned in the diary. Material from their dossiers gives the information used for their capture, and in many cases reveals the arbitrary and unfair grounds for their detention. These internees were all legitimate and accepted immigrants, and about a quarter of them had become naturalized British subjects, and some were even Australian-born. Yet despite the difficult treatment they received, after the war they resumed their lives and went on to make an important contribution to Australian life.

About the author:

Dr Ilma Martinuzzi O’Brien is an Honorary Research Associate in the School of Historical and European Studies at La Trobe University. She was Director of the Co.As.It. Italian Historical Society from 1987 to 1993 where she curated the national Bicentennial exhibition Australia’s Italians 1799-1988 and also co-curated Bridging Two Worlds: Jews and Italians for the Museum of Victoria. She has published widely on internments in Australia during WWII, including a chapter in The Great Mistakes of Australian History (UNSW Press) on internments from Innisfail in a volume published by the National Museum of Australia. She co-edited Italian Pioneers in the Innisfail District (2003) and Under Suspicion: Citizenship and Internment in Australia during WWII (2009).

Crime fiction, society, history

Mon, 21 Apr 2014 17:37:00 GMT

Her route from Inspector De Vincenzi (the all-but-forgotten bibliophile invented by Augusto de Angelis in the 1930s) to Sebastiano Satta (the postmodern hybrid of truth and fiction created by Marcello Fois) takes in Duca Lamberti (prowling the cementifying periphery of Milan as seen by Giorgio Scerbanenco), Captain Bellodi (the northerner set adrift in Sicily’s mafialands by Leonardo Sciascia) and Inspector Montalbano (rather less adrift in another part of Sicily thanks to Andrea Camilleri). The writings of Loriano Macchiavelli, stripping away some of Bologna’s civic gloss, and Massimo Carlotto, doing something similar for north-east Italy, are also carefully set in their historical and cultural contexts. It is a thoroughly rewarding journey, demonstrating, in the words of one reviewer, “how, far from being pure escapism, Italian detective fiction has always aimed at being the nation’s critical conscience, shedding light on and articulating a critique of its social disorders and dysfunctions.”

The Bilingual Cockatoo: Writing Italian Australian Lives

Sat, 12 Apr 2014 08:12:00 GMT

John Gatt-Rutter 's The Bilingual Cockatoo: Writing Italian Australian Lives (Melbourne: Hybrid Publishers), a study based on more than 60 biographies and autobiographies of Italian Australians, will be launched by the author with Paolo Baracchi and Richard Freadman on Wednesday 30 April at 6.30 pm at the Museo Italiano , 199 Faraday Street, Carlton. Attendance is free, with light refreshment and drinks, but seats should be booked here or by telephone ((03 9349 9021).

The book looks at full-length life-writing texts, including accounts of the Italian Australian experience of war-time internment, success stories, narratives of trauma and grievance, and life narratives as a form of ethnography.

It covers both the textual strategies deployed by the writers and the experiential dimensions highlighted by the texts. There is a variable focus, ranging from a whole chapter devoted to a single text, to surveys of a dozen or more texts in each of four chapters. A final overview maps out a chronology and typology of Italian Australian life writing relating it to immigrant life writing generally.

John Gatt-Rutter, formerly Vaccari Professor of Italian Studies at La Trobe University in Melbourne, is an authority on Italo Svevo, a close friend of James Joyce in the formative years when Ulysses was written.

Charles Dickens in Italy

Thu, 10 Apr 2014 20:37:00 GMT

In 1844 Charles Dickens went to Italy for a year. Based in Genoa, he travelled around, going as far south as Paestum, and published a book on his travels, Pictures from Italy (1846) in which he refrained from commenting on the government of the country (courtesy to his hosts) and on its art (too much […]

How serene is La Serenissima?

Wed, 09 Apr 2014 09:19:00 GMT

Referenda are all the rage. From Scotland to the eastern Ukraine and the Crimea, with a southern detour through the Veneto, they generate heat and noise but less light. In her recent blog-post, Arriverderci, Veneto?, Arianna Giovannini examines the case of the recent informal referendum there, looking at the significance of its results and the […]

Annie Chartres Vivanti: Transnational Politics, Identity, and Culture

Mon, 07 Apr 2014 20:48:00 GMT

Erica Moretti (Mount Holyoke College) and I are therefore preparing a volume to show how Annie Chartres Vivanti brought a transnational dimension to the marked provincialism of the Italian novel by addressing issues of gender, ethnicity, and sexuality on both personal and international levels, creating work that distanced itself from much of the female-penned literature of the day, scorning both decorum and social respectability. We examine Vivanti’s output through multiple perspectives, taking into account her politics and her various artistic careers, as well as her literary works themselves. We also consider the reception in Italy and France of Vivanti and her work, including the adaptation of Guai ai Vinti! by Raffaello Matarazzo (1954); issues of translation and self-translation in the work of a woman who spoke and wrote in different languages; and her negotiation of a range of religious and political contexts, from Italian Fascism to Irish independence.

At the heart of literary liberal Italy, Vivanti’s works enjoyed enormous popularity and attracted substantial reviews by Benedetto Croce, G.A.Borgese and Paul Heyse. After her death, the secondary status assigned to supposedly less significant literary genres, such as feuilleton, led to an eclipse in her critical fortunes, and she has remained at the oblique margins of contemporary literary criticism: attention is now largely limited to her relationship with her mentor, Nobel Prize winner Giosuè Carducci. By contrast, we want to bring the marginal center-stage, building on the multicultural and multilingual background that made the eclectic Vivanti’s literary and journalistic output unique in turn-of-the-century Italy in order to re-insert her work into the aesthetic and historical contexts of Italian literature and journalism. We use her extraordinary life and work to offer fresh perspectives on the history of Italian journalism, literature, and performing arts; and we make the case for giving Vivanti an important voice in contemporary discussions to re-think and de-provincialize the Italian literary canon.

Joe Farrell alla SBS – Rame, Stevenson, la Scozia, le Samoa

Fri, 04 Apr 2014 08:14:00 GMT

Per chi non può partecipare alla presentazione martedì 8 aprile da parte di Joe Farrell dei suoi libri su Franca Rame e Dario Fo, c’è una sua intervista oggi alla SBS che potete trovare qui. Parla in particolare di Franca Rame e le sue esperienze da senatrice, compreso l’incontro con il senatore Giulio Andreotti. Illustra […]

What are footnotes for?

Tue, 01 Apr 2014 08:39:00 GMT

The following document on the uses of footnotes has recently arrived in the ACIS office. While its anonymous author – identifiable as Australian from internal evidence and the Barossa Shiraz stain on the envelope – certainly intended to address a wider audience than scholars of Italy, it may also be useful to postgraduates and other students of il Belpaese . In earlier posts Catherine Williams and Theodore Ell have reflected on aspects of doing research in Italy; this document offers some thoughts on the ways that the results are written up.

WHAT ARE FOOTNOTES FOR?

Perplexed postgraduates, stressed supervisors, exhausted editors and even Job himself on a particularly trying afternoon have looked for a clear answer to this ancient question. Several responses are on record:

VERY SHORT ANSWER : to avoid endnotes (and the irritation of having to turn to the end of the chapter, book or thesis every time you want to check a reference).

SHORT ANSWER ( basic usage ) : to record the origin of, and authority for, a statement in the text itself and thus to show that the writer has done the required homework in the archives and libraries.

Mini-bibliography

J. Barzun and H. Graff, The Modern Researcher (many editions 1957-2003)

J. Bensman, ‘The Aesthetics and Politics of Footnoting’, Politics, Culture and Society 1 (1988), 443-470.

B. Cronin, The Citation Process (London, 1984).

A. Grafton, The Footnote: a curious history (Cambridge MA, 1997)

Riflessi di immagini: Magico 2014

Wed, 26 Mar 2014 18:01:00 GMT

Su di loro lascio parlare i “riflessi di immagini” e le didascalie che trovate qui sotto. Quello che non c’è nelle fotografie sono invece gli ottimi gnocchi fritti e frittelle salate serviti dall’efficientissimo gruppo scout locale (mai ristoro di fiera fu meglio organizzato), le gentili signore del banchetto con le cartoline e l’annullo postale, le simpaticissime bariste del caffè dietro la Rocca, i negozietti tenacemente mandati avanti nei container post-terremoto, i fiori di carta color lavanda a decorare il grazioso paesuzzo, la drogheria-latteria di via Mazzini, la nuvola di pioggia arrivata a mezzora dall’inizio della manifestazione a rovinar quasi la festa (ma poi l’è scappata subito, veh!). Insomma, come non accorrere ancora più numerosi il prossimo anno?

‘The Savoy Ladies Group’: screening in Melbourne on 29 March

Thu, 20 Mar 2014 08:51:00 GMT

The Italian community of Myrtleford, in the picturesque Ovens Valley in alpine North Eastern Victoria, arrived mainly to work in the once thriving tobacco industry. The region now has a distinctive Italian-Australian culture with settled second, third and fourth generation Italian families. The film sheds light on the difficulties faced by Italian women who emigrated, often from rural villages, in the post-war migration boom. “It was a lonely experience for many of the women who came here” says Lucinda Horrocks, one of the film’s producers. “While the men took on a more active role in the community, the women stayed on the farms with their families. They couldn’t drive or speak the language well so they became very isolated, particularly after their children left home.”

The Savoy Ladies Group, which is attached to the Myrtleford Italian community’s ‘Savoy Club’ was formed in 1983 in an effort to combat the social isolation of the Italian women tobacco farmers. Producer Samantha Dinning, who developed the original concept for the film, was inspired by the 30 ^th Anniversary of the group in 2013. “I was looking for a project to develop in the North East and have always been intrigued by its Italian heritage. I met with Jan Mock at the Alpine Shire council who suggested that it would be great to have the story of the Ladies Group documented. Their 30 ^th Anniversary as a group was coming up and it seemed like the perfect time to celebrate the women and their achievements.” To Dinning, the story is about independence and resilience. “The groups experience tell us about the challenges faced by migrant women in rural Australia, something that we often hear little about. It’s a great example of the power of friendship and community.“

The film, which was funded through the Australian Government’s Your Community Heritage Program, focuses on the story of Rosa Volpe, an original founding member of the group and the current group president. Rosa’s story is typical of many women in the community who joined the group with their mothers and enjoyed the companionship and independence it offered, says Dinning. “The Savoy Ladies have endured as a support network for over 30 years, which is a testament to the organisational powers of the women who have been involved and to its strength as a vital community group.”

The film-makers spent a week in Myrtleford filming the present day activities of the group. The film contains footage of the ladies playing “tombola” – Italian for bingo. To the Ballarat-based producer Horrocks, the Italian character of the region came as a surprise. “The history of the area is fascinating,” she says. “The area is dotted with disused tobacco kilns but unless you know what they are, they just look like odd-shaped tin sheds. And it was mainly Italian families who were farming tobacco. I didn’t know anything about it.” To Ms Dinning, who grew up in nearby Wangaratta, and whose grandparents were tobacco share-farmers in Dandongadale, the Italian heritage of the area is worth celebrating. “ I loved growing up among many different Italian families eating wonderful food, learning the language and culture. I don’t think that many people outside the region know about its cultural uniqueness and its something I have always valued.”

The producers hope viewers see the film as a celebration of friendship. “The companionship offered by the group is such a strong aspect of the story” says Horrocks. “We really tried to capture the essence of the power of friendship.” The film will be shown at select screenings in Melbourne and regional Victoria throughout 2014 and will be released online in April 2014.

The film is produced by Wind & Sky Productions, an independent film production company specialising in short documentaries. Working mainly in digital video, they produce stories for smaller screens, web and digital formats. They are based in Ballarat in regional Victoria. They take on commissions and also produce self-driven projects where they develop story concepts, source funding, and bring together project partners and collaborators. Their remit is to produce stories which promote positive change and social responsibility. More information about Wind & Sky Productions is available at http://www.windsky.com.au

Appointment of Honorary Research Associate

Sun, 16 Mar 2014 15:42:00 GMT

ACIS is delighted that Laura Lori has accepted appointment as an Honorary Research Associate. She received her PhD from La Trobe University in 2011 for a thesis on Somali literature in Italian, published as Inchiostro d’Africa. La letteratura postcoloniale somala fra diaspora e identità (Ombre Corte 2013). She has taught at the University of South Australia […]

Workshop on crime fiction: Melbourne, 21 Nov 2014

Fri, 21 Feb 2014 13:32:00 GMT

A one-day workshop on researching and teaching Italian crime fiction, sponsored by ACIS and La Trobe University and convened by Barbara Pezzotti (ACIS) and Brigid Maher (La Trobe), will be held on Friday 21 November 2014 at the La Trobe University City Campus, 215 Franklin St, Melbourne CBD, from 9 am to 5 pm. Stephen Knight (Melbourne) will give the opening address; postgraduates working on crime fiction will be especially welcome. Click here for the call for papers. Participation is free and lunch/tea/coffee will also be provided. We will update the information on the workshop page on the Conferences menu above, where you will also find a contact form for any questions or further details.

Eighteenth-Century Venetian Drawings in New York

Thu, 20 Feb 2014 08:37:00 GMT

Although the exhibition is now closed, I thought that ACIS readers might welcome news of its content, for the art works are all part of the Morgan’s permanent collection. Thus, while their temporary display together was a more easily accessible way to view the drawings, they are among the many available to study online or, for those planning to visit the city and working on relevant research, in person at the museum. Italian drawings, particularly from the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries, form the core of the collection, which was established by the wealthy financier Pierpont Morgan in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Medieval and Renaissance manuscripts are also strongly represented.

For Italianists visiting New York it is always worth checking what special exhibitions are being held at the Morgan, though the library alone warrants a visit. Mirroring the collections it houses, which combine ancient and modern works, it is made up of a series of buildings from different periods; the history of the museum can be found on the Morgan Library’s website . It includes Morgan’s original private library built between 1902 and 1906 by McKim, Mead & White – a gracious and intimate space that draws on the principles of sixteenth-century Italy to create a structure in the style termed ‘American Renaissance’. A hundred years later the Genoese architect Renzo Piano was commissioned to expand the space of the institute, which he has done brilliantly by integrating the remaining historic buildings with modern light-filled pavilions. As Nicolai Ouroussoff observed of Piano’s design in the New York Times when the Morgan reopened in 2006, ‘The result is a space with the weight of history and the lightness of clouds’. Centred on an interior piazza, the spirit of Renaissance Italy is still honoured in this most modern of adaptations.

As to the exhibition, it was a delight to be able to view the works of some of the most important artists of eighteenth-century Venice, indeed of eighteenth-century Europe. As the title suggests, Giambattista Tiepolo, as well as his son Giandomenico, and Francesco Guardi featured prominently in the selection of drawings, but present too were a number of other artists whose works capture something of the spirit of the times of the Settecento city. This included the enigmatic, sensual figures of Giovanni Battista Piazzetta, such as the immensely beautiful Young Woman with Tambourine . Also on view were the evocative landscape capricci of Canaletto and Marco Ricci and a Design for a Gondola by Giovanni Battista Piranesi that, with its rococo arabesques and sense of continual movement, is similarly capriccioso .

G.B.Tiepolo (1696-1770) Self-portrait

Being able to view the Tiepolo drawings at first hand was always going to be a treat, and it led to surprises. I hadn’t paid attention previously to the initial, seemingly random, scribbles that Giambattista often made on the paper when composing a drawing. And from these emerged such exquisite depictions of humanity! And of gods too, as in his sketch of Apollo . The extreme foreshortening is explained by its being a study for a ceiling fresco in the Palazzo Clerici in Milan which Tiepolo completed in 1740. Appropriately for the work’s function, there is a sense that the figure is soaring , but the drawing, with its delicate line and transparent washes of shade, also gives an immediacy that is inevitably harder to maintain in the vastness of a ceiling fresco.

Especially welcome was the way that the Morgan did not merely portray Giambattista as the painter of the old regime and Giandomenico as the depicter of a new, more modern world. Thus studies by the elder Tiepolo that were intended for grand ceiling paintings in noble palaces, like the Apollo , were displayed alongside his more intimate sketches that capture with wry humour the vanities and foibles of humankind, such as his Drunken Punchinello . Likewise, accompanying Domenico’s observational studies that gently mock society and its rituals, as in The Presentation of the Fiancé , were six sheets of the more than three hundred scenes that the artist sketched of the New Testament. Here the painter’s keen eye for the everyday is employed to capture a true sense of the human in a story of monumental significance.

Francesco Guardi by Roberto Longhi (1764)

Francesco Guardi was also a skilful captor of the everyday world of eighteenth-century Venice, albeit often depicted in such a way as to emphasise a poetic and magical side to life. A real, though less commonplace, event was the subject of one of the exhibition’s most intriguing images. In 1783 Count Giovanni Zambeccari launched a hot-air balloon from the Bacino di San Marco. Guardi’s Ascent of a Balloon in Venice records this happening, inviting the viewer to join the gaze of the crowd and to peer through the grand architectural framework to the image of the small balloon rising in the distance. The tremulous quality of the artist’s line creates a sense of movement in the throngs of people and conveys the thrill that the event must have generated.

A similar sense of motion is found in the equally captivating View of Levico in the Valsugana , where the landscape appears to be animated by an internal force. The area represented is on the way to Guardi’s birthplace in the Val di Sole in Trentino and, while the work may have been intended for a patron, the artist’s presence in the landscape seems keenly felt. All of the elements of the picturesque are present to draw the viewer into the scene – the curving path, old archway, and the appealing buildings of the town, alongside the framing devices of the foreground trees and distant mountains. But it is the artist’s wavering, ever-moving line and masterly use of shadow that enlivens the view and serves to recall a particular passage in time when a considerable breeze blew through the valley. It is responses to the landscape such as this that fascinate me and drive my research. Guardi’s View of Levico has the power to transport us from our everyday lives to an everyday scene in the eighteenth-century Veneto countryside, yet it is one as if suffused with magic.

Italy today – more of yesterday? hello tomorrow?

Tue, 18 Feb 2014 18:24:00 GMT

Current developments in Italian politics have been receiving attention from political scientists. Fabio Bordignon (in the most recent issue of South European Society and Politics) compares the leadership styles of Renzi and Berlusconi and wonders how far Renzi’s style is compatible with the traditions of the party he leads. He also notes how Renzi likes to present […]

La festa del Panettone riciclato

Mon, 03 Feb 2014 09:07:00 GMT

Traduzioni:

“Madona de la Candelora, de l’inverna sem feura. Pieuv, fioca ou tira vent, per quaranta dì sem amu indent”: Madonna della Candelora, dall’inverno siamo fuori. Piove, nevica o tira vento, per quaranta giorni nell’inverno siamo ancora dentro. Da tenere presente che un’altra versione stabilisce però che è in caso di maltempo che si preannuncia un rapido cambiamento di stagione, mentre una più ottimistica versione ridotta si limita a certificare la fine dell’inverno indipendentemente dalle condizioni atmosferiche. Potete dunque scegliere quella che più vi piace a seconda del tempo di ieri e di quale è la vostra stagione preferita.

“San Bias du ur a squas”: San Biagio, due ore di luce in più.

“San Bias benedis la gula e ‘l nas”: San Biagio benedice la gola e il naso.

[Disclaimer: i proverbi riportati qui lo sono seguendo la pronuncia melegnanese. Astenersi contestazioni nord-milanesi sulla grafia scorretta e sulla necessità di sostituire il dittongo eu con la vocale o]

Studiare il Mezzogiorno

Thu, 30 Jan 2014 08:58:00 GMT

Per chi si interessa della storia, politica, e cultura del Meridione, la rivista Meridiana rappresenta una risorsa particolarmente pregevole. E’ un quadrimestrale nato nel 1987 ad opera di un gruppo di storici, sociologi, economisti, antropologi e scienziati politici, legati da una visione del Mezzogiorno come realtà plurale da studiare anche attraverso un approccio interdisciplinare. L’intenzione è di […]

Italian Politics – some resources

Tue, 28 Jan 2014 18:44:00 GMT

A couple of new links have been added to our Blogroll (bottom right-hand side, this page). The first is a link to the blog of the Italian Politics Specialist Group (UK). The latest posts (Jan 2014) include papers at a recent conference, notably about the resurrection of Forza Italia, the election of Matteo Renzi as […]

Cinepanettoni e dintorni

Thu, 23 Jan 2014 14:08:00 GMT

Along with the departure of the Christmas festivities goes the classic season for cinepanettoni. But before it finally vanishes, check out the latest issue of Reading Italy where the topic gets thorough treatment. There’s a discussion with its rehabilitation specialists, Alan O’Leary (author of a recent study of the genre) and Catherine O’Rawe, whose joint […]

Ciyaal missioni: la stolen generation somala

Wed, 15 Jan 2014 07:58:00 GMT

A livello personale, all’interno del panorama della letteratura postcoloniale in italiano ho scelto dedicare particolare attenzione al caso degli autori provenienti dalla Somalia, perché questa è l’unica ex-colonia in cui l’Italia sia tornata dopo la fine della seconda guerra mondiale con un ruolo di comando. Il 21 novembre 1949, infatti, l’Assemblea Generale delle Nazioni Unite ha approvato la risoluzione che ha affidato all’Italia il mandato fiduciario sulla Somalia per 10 anni, la cosiddetta Amministrazione Fiduciaria Italiana della Somalia (AFIS) – e questo periodo di dissimulata dominazione ha creato un unicum culturale.

Tristemente, uno dei prodotti di questo anomalo rapporto fra dominati e dominati è quella che io definisco la stolen generation somala. In somalo esiste un’espressione che identifica questi figli rubati ed è ciyaal missioni . Essa unisce la parola somala per bambini, ciyaal appunto, e quella italiana di missioni: con essa venivano indicati i bambini figli di un italiano e di una somala, che non erano stati riconosciuti dai padri e venivano cresciuti come orfani nelle missioni italiane. Sia durante il periodo coloniale che durante l’Afis, e anche dopo, durante la Repubblica somala e la dittatura, infatti, la scuola italiana, gli asili, gli orfanotrofi, i brefotrofi e gli altri importanti luoghi di incontro con i giovani somali sono stati affidati a figure religiose, come suore e frati, inviati là dall’Italia, in base a quel principio secondo cui la Santa Sede tendeva a mandare nei Paesi colonizzati o da colonizzare missionari della stessa nazionalità della potenza imperialista. La convivenza fra gli italiani e le donne somale, una situazione abbastanza diffusa ai tempi del colonialismo, divenne quasi la norma durante il mandato fiduciario italiano, tanto da preoccupare persino le autorità cattoliche e il destino dei bambini nati da queste unioni, circa seicento secondo i documenti dell’epoca, è stato appunto orribilmente simile a quello della stolen generation degli aborigeni australiani. Funzionari italiani si recavano dalle madri quando i bimbi avevano pochi anni e le convincevano che i loro figli avrebbero avuto un futuro migliore con gli italiani. Promettevano loro che avrebbero ricevuto un’istruzione prima ed un lavoro poi, ma soprattutto che non avrebbero mai sofferto la fame, rischio che, erano sicuri, avrebbero corso restando con loro, donne giovani e sole perché allontanate dalla comunità in seguito alla relazione con gli italiani. Molte delle ragazze accettavano e così i loro bambini si trovavano a crescere in istituti cattolici italiani, dove erano costretti a dimenticare la lingua e la cultura delle loro madri. Alla fine del mandato dell’Afis e durante gli anni successivi, questi bambini sono stati gradualmente portati in Italia, perché ormai cresciuti senza alcun legame con la Somalia, dove, inoltre, erano oggetto di razzismo perché figli di italiani. L’impegno dei religiosi anche in questo frangente supplisce in parte alla latitanza dello stato (cito da un articolo apparso su La Repubblica nel 2008 a cura di Francesca Caferri): “Don Antonio Allais, sacerdote torinese […] negli ’70 assunse la patria potestà di decine di piccoli apolidi di origini somale e imbastì cause su cause perché fosse riconosciuta loro la cittadinanza italiana. Le vinse, regalando ai suoi protetti un’ identità su cui cominciare a costruirsi una vita” anche se lui stesso ha sostenuto che un passaporto non sana le ferite.

L’espressione cyaal missioni , o più semplicemente missioni, compare pressoché in tutti i romanzi somali, ma spesso senza che ne sia chiaramente spiegata l’origine: si tende ad usarla semplicemente nell’accezione di figli di italiani. S’intuisce che la parola missioni sia divenuta quasi sinonimo, nella mentalità comune somala, di italosomalo. Il significato spregiativo assunto dal termine non è causato dall’origine italiana, ma dal concetto della paternità sconosciuta e negata: nella cultura somala è questo che lo rende un’offesa. Infatti, anche nel caso di scomparsa del padre, la sua famiglia reclama in qualche modo gli eventuali figli, che, dunque, pur essendo rimasti orfani, non restano mai del tutto soli né sono cresciuti da estranei. Sembra che la morale cattolica e la cultura somala convergano su quest’argomento, anche se, in realtà, nella mentalità somala la mancanza di appartenenza per via paterna significava mancanza di un’identità e di conseguenza anche di nazionalità, mentre dal punto di vista religioso la negatività del non essere stati riconosciuti dal proprio padre è legata all’idea di peccato.

Ritengo che sarebbe ora di approfondire anche questo aspetto della nostra storia, non solo per puro interesse accademico, ma anche per sanare antiche ferite e costruire una società più equa in relazione a temi quali identità e cittadinanza e in tal senso uno studio attento e approfondito dei testi della letteratura somala in italiano può senza dubbio rivelarsi uno strumento efficace.

Se in passato lo Stato ha lasciato che fossero i rappresentanti della chiesa e non i propri funzionari a gestire il problema dei figli degli italiani, sia in Somalia che al loro arrivo in Italia, adesso sarebbe ora di fare un passo avanti e finalmente allinearsi ad altri Stati, come l’Australia ad esempio, nel porgere le proprie scuse alla stolen generation di casa nostra.

‘Gabriele D’Annunzio never met an adverb he didn’t like’

Sat, 04 Jan 2014 20:27:00 GMT

That’s the opening sentence of a review by Joseph Luzzi of a recent translation of D’Annunzio’s Pleasure in this week’s Times Literary Supplement (3 Jan 2014). Apart from this review which chimes in with the recent post on D’Annunzio by Stefano Bragato, the issue has other pieces of interest to Italianists. Focusing on the relation between […]

Crime Fiction Conferences in 2014/2

Thu, 02 Jan 2014 22:45:00 GMT

“True Crime: Fact, Fiction, Ideology” is an interdisciplinary conference seeking to explore this genre in its myriad incarnations. Proposals are sought for 20 minute papers. Possible topics may include:

· True crime in popular culture; forensic psychology and criminology; prison narratives and memoirs; true crime in fiction and metafiction; the politics of true crime; true crime and the law; theorizing true crime; serial killers and profiling; the ethics of true crime; taboo crimes; ‘proto-true crime’ – early examples of the mode, predecessors and precedents. Keynote Lecture: David Schmid (University at Buffalo, SUNY), author of Natural Born Celebrities: Serial Killers in American Culture: ‘The Moors Murders and the “Truth” of True Crime. If interested,send 300-word abstracts to David McWilliam and Hannah Priest at conference@hic-dragones.co.uk by 31st March 2014. All enquiries should also be sent to this address. This conference is organized by Hic Dragones. For more information, please see the website: www.hic-dragones.co.uk .

“Crime Fiction: Here and There and Again” Conference: Crime narratives are among the most popular forms of storytelling worldwide and have played a central role in the development of national literatures. Detective and crime novels have developed beyond borders marked by language, culture and genre. The ability to replicate, explore, and interrogate its own conventions is one of the defining features of all types of crime fiction. The recent worldwide success of Scandinavian crime fiction shows that crime novels can be successfully translated into other languages and appropriated for other cultures.

The aim of the conference is to discuss crime fiction across national borders, across cultures, across languages, across genres, across arts and across different media. Papers which deal with one or more of the following points (the list is by no means exhaustive), in any given literature and country, or in international comparison are welcome:

If interested, send an abstract and a short biographical note to Agnieszka Sienkiewicz-Charlish at crimegdansk@gmail.com by 31 March 2014. The abstract should include a title, name and affiliation of the speaker and a contact email address. We welcome proposals from both postgraduate students and established scholars. Proposals for suggested panels are also welcome. Papers should be no longer than 20 minutes of presentation time and should be delivered in English.

Crime Fiction Conferences in 2014/1

Thu, 02 Jan 2014 01:27:00 GMT

The year 2014 has been blessed with quite a few crime fiction conferences. Here are the first two, whose deadlines for sending an abstract are 6 January and 1 February respectively: “ Captivating Criminality. Crime Fiction, Darkness and Desire ” Conference, Bath Spa University and Crime Studies Network (24-26 April 2014); and “ Evil Incarnate: Manifestations of Villains and Villainy “, Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland (11-13 July).

The “Captivating Criminality” conference aims to consider the darker side of crime writing with particular reference to the process of captivation, fascination and desire, in relation to the texts themselves and also to readers: why does crime writing captivate? Crime fiction regularly outsells literary fiction and this demonstrates that we hunger for what this genre has to offer. This conference will bring together a number of disciplines to investigate these key themes. The conference will provide a platform for creative writers, historians, theorists and literary scholars to examine crime writing, from Gothic fiction of the 18th century to the current popularity of Nordic noir. Award-winning crime author Val McDermid will be present to discuss the world of crime. Translated into more than 30 languages, with over two million copies sold in the UK and over 10 million worldwide, she has written 25 bestselling novels; “The Vanishing Point” – her latest novel – is her 26th. The second keynote speaker is Sharon (SJ) Bolton whose books have been shortlisted for several international awards including the CWA Gold Dagger, the Theakston’s Old Peculiar prize for crime novel of the year, the International Thriller Writers’ Best First Novel and (four years running) the Mary Higgins Clark award for best thriller (Awakening won this), while Professor Mary Evans (Who is the author of the monograph “The Imagination of Evil: detective Fiction and the Modern World”) will be the third keynote speaker.

Panels may include, but are not restricted to:

Reimagining the Criminal Mind; The Gothic; True Crime; Foreign Bodies; Ancient Bodies; Crime and Modernism/Modernity; Dostoevsky and Beyond: The Genealogy of Crime Writing; Fatal Femininity; Seduction and Sexuality; The Criminal Analyst; Others and Otherness; Landscape and Identity; Justice Versus Punishment; Lack of Order and Resolution.

If interested, send 400-word proposals to Dr Fiona Peters (f.peters@bathspa.ac.uk) and Dr Rebecca Gordon Stewart (r.stewart@bathspa.ac.uk) by 6 January 2014. The abstract should include a title, name and affiliation of the speaker, and a contact email address. Feel free to submit abstracts presenting work in progress as well as completed projects. Postgraduate students are welcome. Papers will be a maximum of 20 minutes in length. Proposals for suggested panels are also welcome. Conference website: http://captivatingcriminality.bathspa.ac.uk/

“The Evil incarnate” Conference covers the following themes: The concept of villainy is universal: the dichotomy of good versus evil has been central conflict underlying ideologies and praxis across cultures and time. What, after all, is a hero without a villain as a foil? This conference asks: what defines villainy? Is it moral? Cultural? Inherent circumstantial? How are villains represented textually, culturally, and politically? What does the presence of the villain do to the issues in which they are embedded? How would the issues change in their absence? By exploring the concept of villainy as it manifests itself, the conference explores the many forms of villainy and their consequences. Ultimately, it seeks definition for villains in an attempt to overturn the characterizing of this pursuit as “[T]he motive-‐hunting of a motiveless malignity,” because, unfortunately, the designation of evil incarnate is also that of villainy beyond understanding (S. T. Coleridge). The organisers of the conference are interested in papers from a variety of disciplinary and inter-‐disciplinary perspectives. Possible topics include, but are not limited to:
• Villains and crime in literature and /or fiction
• Villains and monsters in the media/ media constructions of villainy
• Moral transgression, evil, and villainy
• The making of national enemies
• Evil and history
• Evil as a necessity
• Monsters across cultures
• What causes evil
• Aliens and alienation
• Supernatural evil and the Occult
• Political villains such as dictators, tyrants, Fascists, and/or Nazis
• Terrorists
• Criminality in society
• Holocausts

Confirmed Keynote Speakers: Prof. David Frankfurter (Religious Studies, Boston University); Prof. Ronald Holmes (Justice Administration, University of Louisville); Prof. William Paul (Film Studies Washington University in St. Louis).

If interested, send 300-‐word abstracts words for papers of 20 minutes to evilincarnate@case.edu by the extended deadline February 1, 2014. The abstract should also include a 50-‐word biographical note and AV requests. Please indicate if you wish the abstract to be considered for inclusion in the post-conference publications. Conference Organizers: Drs. Malcah Effron and Brian Johnson (English, Case Western Reserve University). Contact Details: evilincarnate@case.edu

Of traditions and the tasks they impose

Wed, 01 Jan 2014 14:03:00 GMT

You are staring at the mountain of lentils and cotechino your mother/husband/mother-in-law/Uncle Arthur has just placed in front of you. You have gulped, twice. For you are grimly aware that you have already committed many unpardonable excesses in the field called gluttony over the past week. Your enrolment at the gym is still a promise, […]

Dalla Sicilia a Torino e ritorno

Tue, 31 Dec 2013 09:45:00 GMT

Vincenzo Rabito
(1899-1981)

La produttrice/co-sceneggiatrice del film terramatta; (2012), Chiara Ottaviano, racconta la storia del libro Terra matta di Vincenzo Rabito e indica i criteri adoperati da lei e dal regista, Costanza Quatriglio, per la trasformazione cinematica del libro. Descrive anche il suo lavoro per creare l’ Archivio degli Iblei , opera corale online della storia di quella parte della Sicilia sud-orientale da cui proveniva l’autore di Terra matta .

Di slitte fatate, di doni e di bancali preziosi

Thu, 26 Dec 2013 09:09:00 GMT

I bancali sono così oggetti “preziosi” per i complessi intrighi che occorre intessere per trafugarli, e per la possibilità di ricavarne denaro dalla vendita come bancali “usati”. Il loro valore non si riduce però a questo, e anzi quello che rende questi oggetti dei beni di valore ha in primo luogo a che fare con ciò che si costruisce nelle relazioni che si stabiliscono attorno ad essi tra le due parti coinvolte, i magazzinieri e i camionisti. Il valore dei bancali scambiati è creato, infatti, in una serie di interazioni tra le due parti, per le quali questi oggetti costituiscono il cardine di una peculiare relazione in equilibrio tra fiducia, competizione, affermazione del proprio prestigio sul lavoro, reputazioni di onestà e furbizia, contrattazioni sulla qualità dei bancali, doni e furti. Queste relazioni costituiscono, nel loro insieme, una peculiare etica che sovrintende a questi scambi e ai rapporti tra i due gruppi di lavoratori, fondata sull’importanza che, in questo gioco, assumono questi oggetti come strumenti di lavoro, attorno ai quali ruotano le competenze e abilità necessarie per svolgere bene le proprie mansioni.

[chi volesse sapere qualcosa di più sulle transazioni di cui i bancali EPAL sono oggetto può leggere: Edda Orlandi, Il circuito dei bancali. Uno studio etnografico sulla creazione di valore nello scambio. Apparso su Etnografia e ricerca qualitativa, 1/2012. Chi invece volesse acquistare un prezioso bancale “usato” non tarderà a trovare indicazioni “compro-vendo bancali” sulle strade e autostrade italiane, oppure può accordarsi con uno dei tanti rivenditori di pallet EPAL presenti su e-bay annunci .]

Letteratura italiana post-coloniale: il caso somalo

Tue, 17 Dec 2013 12:23:00 GMT

Laura Lori, dell’Università di South Australia ad Adelaide, discute la nascita della letteratura post-coloniale in Italia e in particolare la letteratura somala, oggetto delle sue ricerche recenti. Di particolare interesse è, sul piano generale, l’esplorazione dell’eredità culturale di questo spesso trascurato passato italiano in Africa e, sul piano specifico, l’individuazione dei temi che distinguono la […]

Quando scrivere è una lotta

Tue, 17 Dec 2013 11:38:00 GMT

Luca Ricci, regista teatrale e curatore insieme a Evelina Santangelo dell’edizione Einaudi di Terra matta, racconta come è venuto in contatto con l’autobiografia di Vincenzo Rabito, un siciliano autodidatta, che ha ispirato il film terramatta;. Nel suo lavoro all’Archivio diaristico nazionale a Pieve Santo Stefano (il paese toscano distrutto nel 1944, la cui storia è stata raccontata […]

ACIS Cassamarca scholarship awards for 2014

Sat, 14 Dec 2013 07:55:00 GMT

ACIS congratulates Stefano Bona (Flinders University) and Esther Theiler (La Trobe University) on the award of ACIS Cassamarca scholarships for research in Italy in 2014. Stefano’s PhD research topic is the representation of China in Italian film since 1949 and its cultural, economic and ideological implications. Esther’s work, also for a PhD, concerns the analysis of portrait painting in Italy in the 17th century, using paleographic and linguistic skills to interpret archival materials. The competition for the awards was particularly strong this year, and the ACIS Scholarships Committee wishes to put on record the very high quality of all the applications and its regret that it could make only two awards.

Italia, 9 dicembre 2013. Inizia la Rivoluzione?

Thu, 12 Dec 2013 09:43:00 GMT

La mattina del 9 dicembre mi sveglio con almeno questa certezza: oggi non succederà niente. Di sicuro, non ci sarà la Rivoluzione. Al limite, giusto un po’ in Sicilia.

Arriviamo all’altezza di Piazza Oberdan, alla fine di Corso Venezia, verso le 14.30. La manifestazione sta risalendo il corso, da Piazzale Loreto si dirige verso il centro. La prima cosa che noto: sembrano pochi. Pochissimi e strani, in questa strada che sembra così larga e così lunga oggi che è l’11 dicembre e non il 25 aprile. Il tempo di trovare dove legare la bici, però, e stanno già tornando indietro. Qualcuno dal corteo ci invita a non stare lì fermi, ad unirci alla protesta, che cosa stiamo lì a guardare mentre passa la Storia.

La seconda: sì, lì in mezzo ci sono proprio quelli lì che mi aspettavo di trovare: quelli lì brutti e cattivi, che sembrano (sono) fascisti. Ma non solo. C’è tutto e il contrario di tutto. Ci sono ragazze infreddolite e affamate (sono in piazza da questa mattina presto) che ad un certo punto decidono di andare a mangiare qualcosa: “ciao, ci vediamo dopo!” mi dicono sorridendo e agitando la mano mentre se ne vanno. Una è una parrucchiera che è a casa da due anni: i suoi titolari hanno dovuto chiudere per “la concorrenza dei cinesi. E come si fa ad assumere un lavoratore, poi, se devi pagare il doppio del suo stipendio per le tasse?” C’è una giovane mamma disoccupata venuta apposta da Bergamo: “meno male che mio marito lavora, ma ci sono persone che non sanno cosa dare da mangiare ai loro figli”. C’è chi racconta la paura che si è presa questa mattina di fronte ai tifosi dell’Ajax: “all’inizio ho pensato fossero quelli di Forza Nuova, grossi, vestiti di nero… chissà cosa succederà stasera… quelli di San Siro sono stati avvisati…” C’è un ragazzino dell’istituto tecnico che mi racconta come la sua scuola si sia unita alla protesta, gli altri ora se ne sono andati ma lui è rimasto: ce l’ha su con Napolitano, ma anche con Berlusconi e con Letta, perché suo nonno è morto di tumore a 60 anni, per i rifiuti tossici occultati nella campagna napoletana. Tutti dicono di essersi uniti alla protesta per averne letto su facebook, su nocensura.com. Ce n’è un paio che potrebbero essere appena usciti da un centro sociale. Ce n’è un paio che potremmo essere noi. C’è qualche bandiera dell’Italia. Ci sono persone con cartelli appesi al collo: “Italia vendesi, telefonare Letta”. Glieli hanno dati gli organizzatori della manifestazione. C’è l’indignazione per la fiducia che viene votata in questo momento. Per questi parlamentari che non abbiamo votato… quando cerco di far presente che no, almeno i parlamentari li abbiamo votati, mi si risponde con confusione: sì, ma quelli lì, i capi… chi li ha messi là?

Si canta la prima strofa dell’Inno d’Italia, oppure si urla Italia! Italia! come allo stadio. C’è anche “l’Italia degli Italiani!” Ci sono tante lamentele contro gli italiani pavidi che non capiscono e non si mobilitano. Ma anche contro i giornali e la televisione che sminuiscono la protesta e parlando impropriamente di tafferugli, che invece questa è una manifestazione pacifica. Ci sono tanti smartphone che fotografano, che riprendono. C’è molto pietismo da Buon Cuore Italico abilmente dispiegato di fronte alle telecamere: i manifestanti che si precipitano a donare monete ad una mendicante con le stampelle, al grido di “solidarietà con i poveri!”; i manifestanti che fanno passare un’auto (siamo oramai in piazzale Loreto, dove bloccano il traffico a singhiozzo) perché è un nonno che sta portando la nipotina dal medico; i manifestanti che invitano un attempato motociclista bloccato a spegnere la moto, perché proprio dietro di lui c’è un ragazzo in carrozzella che sta respirando il suo gas di scarico. C’è la Costituzione: un cartello che parla del futuro dei nostri bambini e dell’articolo 3, una maglietta che rammenta l’articolo 21. C’è la rivendicazione della “sovranità monetaria”. C’è la frustrazione dei pochi che sono rimasti a presidiare il piazzale mentre il corteo procedeva lungo Corso Buenos Aires: c’erano quattro telecamere lì, prima, a riprendere la piazza vuota. Ci sono i poliziotti stanchi, annoiati ed infreddoliti, ignorati. C’è la telecamera cui si grida che farebbero bene a piantare le tende, perché loro da lì non si muovono. E che viene immediatamente circondata da tanti che vogliono sentire cosa si dice, quando qualche manifestante viene invitato a dire la sua opinione. Nessuno si sottrae, in tanti vogliono dire la loro, spiegare agli italiani come stanno davvero le cose, ma di fronte alle domande dei giornalisti su quali siano i problemi, sono esasperati: sono talmente tanti che non si riescono neanche ad elencare… loro che sono giornalisti non lo sanno quali sono i problemi?!

Ci sono io a disagio lì in mezzo, che non capisco, non riesco a capirli. Chi sono? Cosa c’è dietro? Cosa vogliono? Che questo governo vada a casa. E poi? E poi almeno questo governo che non abbiamo votato, che ha aumentato ancora le tasse, se ne va a casa. Ci sono io che mi sforzo di capire, che non partecipo ma non riesco neanche a provare insofferenza verso questa rabbia stanca che forse non è neanche rabbia, è solo mesta rassegnazione, l’essere lì piuttosto che stare a casa, in questo presidio sempre più sfilacciato da cui iniziano a levarsi voci di protesta contro la disorganizzazione del movimento. Ci sono io che chiedo e mi stupisco di come tutti abbiano voglia di parlarmi, di condividere questo senso di impotenza, e nessuno che mi sospetta, nessuno che mi accusa di essere una infiltrata, una giornalista, una comunista, una che sta dalla parte dei potenti, una sociologa o chissà che, con tutte quelle domande. C’è un fantoccio impiccato ad un palo, con un cartello che lo indica come un disoccupato, ché potremmo essere ciascuno di noi, domani: un finto cadavere esposto che mi sembra quasi sacrilego, in questa piazza. Però attorno a me nessuno lo degna, non dico di uno sguardo, ma nemmeno di una fotografia con lo smartphone.

C’è il blocco che oramai non è più un blocco. C’è un capannello che si riunisce attorno a quello che viene additato come l’organizzazione della manifestazione, un ragazzetto con una giacca arancione e lo sguardo disorientato. Un altro manifestante, che si dice un attivista di critical mass, spiega che bisogna ispirarsi a loro, ci vogliono quattro regole, chiare, e chi le sa spiega agli altri come fare. L’organizzatore lo incarica, implora, quasi, di aiutarlo a stilarle. C’è un uomo più anziano che dice che la moneta dell’euro (ne ha tirata fuori una dal portafoglio) ti fa male solo se te la lanciano qua, in testa, e l’attivista di critical mass che risponde rabbioso di informarsi, di guardare su internet, che loro sono proprio lì per non avere più l’euro che ci ha rovinati. C’è la rivendicazione della completa apoliticità dell’assembramento. Ci sono tutti che alzano la mano quando si chiede chi se la sente di fare il portavoce, e poi si discute sul fatto che sì però il portavoce non deve essere visto come un capo, uno con il potere. È solo un portavoce. Ci sono due ragazze che si lamentano del fatto che ognuno si fa i suoi comizietti, e intanto il blocco non c’è più. C’è un tipo grosso, che va da questo ragazzino con la giacca arancione a chiedere cosa deve fare, che la gente si lamenta che non sa cosa fare, e lui gli risponde che quando si lamentano deve dire che “lo ha deciso la comunità”.

Decido che devo scappare perché ho bisogno di scrivere. Ma anche perché voglio scappare e basta.

Più tardi, mentre attraverso una Piazza Duomo quasi buia, mentre pedalo schivando le bottiglie rotte, le lattine e le pozzanghere di birra lasciate dai tifosi dell’Ajax, concludo che tutto quello che sarà successo oggi sarà solo che forse il Milan vincerà, o forse perderà. E mi sento triste per questi qui che non ho capito cosa facevano, cosa volevano, in quella piazza a prendere il freddo e a bloccare il traffico.

The Pike e la rete di d’Annunzio predatore

Wed, 11 Dec 2013 08:52:00 GMT

Tuttavia, il libro conta quasi settecento pagine. Prima di avventurarsi in una tale impresa, il lettore medio vorrà forse saperne qualcosa di più. Ecco allora entrare in gioco la recensione, avente nei fatti più lettori del libro stesso, e (è la sua funzione) diretta ad allestire del libro un’immagine pubblica. Complice il premio, The Pike ne ha ricevute molte, di recensioni. Qui, d’Annunzio è spesso presentato nella veste di personaggio intrigante, di piccante mondano (aspetti da sempre di successo in ambito anglosassone), di genio sregolato che conquistò stuoli di dame e si appropriò di una città intera (Fiume), dando vita qui a una “prova generale del fascismo”. Alcune delle definizioni appioppategli: “a debauched Italian artist who became a national hero”, “a sex-crazed demagogue”, “the first skinhead”, “Godfather to Mussolini”, etc.

Mussolini and d’Annunzio, 1920s
© Bridgeman Art Library / Private Collection

Tralasciamo qui i rapporti tra d’Annunzio, il fascismo e Mussolini, molto più complicati di così; e non impelaghiamoci neanche nella difficile questione di Fiume, del suo status politico-sociale e dei personaggi che la popolavano (consiglio a tal proposito il bel libro di Claudia Salaris Alla festa della rivoluzione: artisti e libertari con d’Annunzio a Fiume , Bologna, Il Mulino, 2002). Ciò che spicca in queste definizioni è, a me sembra, l’assenza (o la semplice citazione superficiale) di riferimenti a d’Annunzio come a un autore di letteratura. Lucy Hughes-Hallet lo considera “a writer of significance”: e sembra suggerire che tale sarebbe rimasto ai posteri, alla stregua dei Maeterlinck o degli Spitteler, se a questa dimensione non si fosse giustapposta l’immagine di seduttore, guerriero, politico, etc.

Sì, d’Annunzio fu soprattutto questo: uno dei primi divi dell’età contemporanea. Ma troppo spesso, io credo, si dimentica che egli fu, prima e contemporaneamente a tutto ciò, un autore paradigmatico della letteratura italiana. Ogni scrittore successivo ha dovuto (sono parole di Montale) “attraversare d’Annunzio”, ossia fare i conti con la sua opera di rinnovamento della lingua (a colpi di risemantizzazioni, ricerca del raro, recuperi dai classici), col suo slegarla dal metro barbaro e gettarla nel Novecento, col suo stile teso di clausole ritmiche e con una sensibilità già postmoderna. Se poi ci rivolgiamo al sociologo della letteratura, egli ci confermerà che d’Annunzio fu il primo in Italia a ripescare dal fango l’aureola persa da Baudelaire e a rificcarsela in testa, con le proprie mani; ma soprattutto, a intuire che a mantenerla lì non sono più influssi di dei, Muse o principi, ma la massa dei lettori.

D’Annunzio sprovincializzò la letteratura italiana, aprendole i confini dell’Europa. Furono invero in molti a notare come questo avvenisse attraverso appropriazioni più o meno dichiarate di stile e idee di scrittori stranieri (la famosa “polemica dei plagi”): a costoro, i dannunziani indicavano religiosamente un passo del Piacere in cui si legge che Andrea Sperelli, il protagonista- alter ego , “per incominciare a comporre aveva bisogno d’una intonazione musicale datagli da un altro poeta”. Oltre che conveniente risposta alle malelingue, questo pluricitato passo suona quasi come dichiarazione di poetica. La poesia di d’Annunzio è fatta di intonazioni, spunti, scintille catturate e coltivate poi a opera d’arte. In che modo, è poi difficile afferrarlo: la critica dannunziana ha fatto passi da gigante, ma il territorio della creazione artistica è, come sappiamo, piuttosto imperscrutabile.

Suonerà allora interessante sapere che d’Annunzio ha tuttavia lasciato una sorta di registro di molti di questi spunti. Questo è, infatti, uno dei modi in cui si possono leggere i suoi taccuini, i fedeli libretti che portò con sé nell’arco della sua vita, e che sono in gran parte arrivati fino a noi ( Taccuini , Milano, Mondadori, 1965; Altri taccuini , Milano, Mondadori, 1976). Qui egli descrive instancabilmente ogni dettaglio della realtà che lo circonda: paesaggi naturali e urbani, palazzi, chiese, musei, quadri, etc. L’occhio sempre vigile, il poeta segue instancabile il suo principio guida per cui “tutto parla , tutto è segno per chi sa leggere – In ogni cosa è posta una volontà di rivelazione ” ( Taccuini , 619-20): l’artista deve prestare costante attenzione al mondo circostante, per coglierne le sottili trame analogiche (su questo consiglio la bellissima Dell’attenzione , una tra le prime Faville del maglio ). Questi stimoli saranno allora intrappolati nella rete dei taccuini, costantemente tesa sulla vita e sul mondo, e riproposti in forma nuova in opere successive.

A monte di ogni opera, insomma, c’è un assiduo lavoro di catalogazione della vita, condotto con stupefacente tenacia. La famigerata capacità di d’Annunzio di mutare forma con il mutare dei tempi, adeguandosi di continuo, è insomma anche figlia di un’opera mastodontica di costante aggiornamento della realtà come i taccuini. Anche in questo senso, allora, d’Annunzio è davvero “the pike”: il luccio predatore, immobile, ma pronto a guizzare su idee o stimoli esterni per ingoiarli, farli suoi, e riesprimerli in poesia.

Roberto Nobile describes terramatta;

Mon, 09 Dec 2013 16:50:00 GMT

For those who would like to hear the actor Roberto Nobile describing his involvement in the film terramatta;, SBS has broadcast an interview with him here. Apart from his role as the narrator in terramatta;, Roberto has taken part in many of the most successful Italian films and TV series in recent years, including Nanni Moretti’s La […]

Masterpiece: Italy’s new literary talent show

Mon, 18 Nov 2013 12:07:00 GMT

La Giuria: De Cataldo, Selasi and De Carlo

The jury is comprised of three acclaimed novelists: Giancarlo De Cataldo, magistrate turned crime fiction writer, whose best-known work is Romanzo criminale , based on the real-life Banda della Magliana; Andrea De Carlo, prolific author of, among others, Treno di panna and Due di due ; and Taiye Selasi, a self-declared afropolita of Nigerian and Ghanaian heritage, author of Ghana Must Go . The contestants’ coach, providing advice and moral support, is writer-director Massimo Coppola, founder of the publishing house ISBN.

But will the program suffer from the usual problems of reality talent shows? Already, after just one episode, it’s starting to look a little formulaic.

The first episode presented ten budding authors who needed to be whittled down to just one finalist by the end of the 90 minutes. Andrea De Carlo carved out a spot as the “nasty” judge early on, when he wished aloud that there was a prize for worst book, as one particular young writer’s submission would be “un candidato molto forte”. Selasi came across as quite severe as well, while De Cataldo seemed a little gentler and more generous in his assessments.

Television is perhaps not the ideal medium for literature, and the initial cull seemed as much about personality as literary style, as the contestants were briefly interviewed by the judges. Those who got through this first stage represented the kind of variety of characters and personal background a reality television producer might hope for: a young man with a history of depression, a life-long factory worker, an unemployed ex-prisoner, and an atheist (male) virgin, a recovered anorexic, and a former runaway and street kid. While we got little more than a snapshot of what their writing was about, there was definitely a preponderance of autobiography, but there was at least one noir in there as well.

Soon the postmodern depressive was eliminated for being insufficiently “sincero” in his writing. The atheist virgin got the boot as well.

Those remaining had to go on a mind-opening day trip: two got sent to a centro sociale run by a priest called Don Rambo, where they talked to Roma women and witnessed a training session in the boxing ring. The other two spent their time at a dance hall for the elderly, who showed off their ballo liscio skills and reminisced about falling in love on the dance floor.

On their return, the contestants had thirty minutes to complete a compitino : respectively, a letter about their visit to the centro sociale , or a description of watching their own parents dancing in their younger days. The first of these tasks proved as uninspiring as it sounds, and those two contestants were promptly eliminated for writing banal responses to a banal question (this would be a familiar scenario to anyone who has ever inadvertently set a boring essay question). Judge Taiye Selasi was particularly disappointed by the performance of ex-anorexic Marta, who for her part was disappointed to have disappointed…

Sprinkled throughout all this edge-of-the-seat drama were the kind of personal reflections to camera that seem to be an inescapable aspect of reality television, as well as responses to the obligatory question, “Come ti senti?”

The two punters left standing then got the space of a 59-second elevator trip in central Turin (lovely views!) to pitch their novels to the red-lipsticked, large-earringed, raised-eyebrowed Bompiani representative Elisabetta Sgarbi (clearly typecast in the role of Intimidating Woman with Power). After acquitting themselves admirably, one was eliminated and one gets to undergo future tasks, tests, trials and tribulations, along with future finalists, no doubt carrying the program well into the new year.

I will no longer be in Italy to watch it all unfold, but perhaps we can hope that the program uncovers one or two great new literary talents, and that we will be reading and writing about their work in a year or two from now…

Quaderno poetico #6: Going behind the scenes (II) – Archives

Mon, 18 Nov 2013 06:30:00 GMT

The word ‘archive’ conjures up notions of the romantic and the restricted. There is beauty in filologia , in reading the handwriting of authors you admire and in handling papers that were their personal belongings. Your writer might have signed the letter in your hand a moment ago, and that smudge over half the name is where the signing hand rushed and flourished, touching off with panache the wit of the message itself…

But if you work in an archive for any length of time, it is impossible to ignore its mechanical side. They can be predictable places. Visiting hours are timetabled, materials are catalogued, collections are described in minute detail. Indeed, the fact that certain material is in an archive at all means that someone has already found it and deemed it valuable enough to store: recognition does not lie with you. And, above all, there are the rules, the eternal and venerable laws that many archives lay down for researchers: anything you request must be related directly to your project; no browsing, no peripheral interest, no tangents. Usually this is because the archives are following authors’ executors’ instructions, but there can be a sneaking suspicion that the holiness which you sense around the materials, the archives sense too – and they want to have it all for themselves. Many filologi I know, as they have sat down at the reading table on their first day to request the call-number of the first file they wished to see, have confessed to feeling much less pioneering than they did while imagining their research plans. They have only a short time to sift through their chosen files and must then go away and write up whatever they’ve found. Often, if a file is lean and there was no possibility of searching further, that may not be much. Archives may be muses to curiosity but often it goes unrequited.

Neither notion of archival work – romantic or restricted – is a formula for success. In fact, the cause of many of the problems that filologi face lies in having a formula to begin with. The idea of archival research is to look into the background of an author’s published work, and usually you enter an archive already familiar with this. The problems begin when that familiarity leads to assumptions. It is fair to be interested in certain themes and preoccupations in an author’s work, but it isn’t fair to think that the author prepared them in the same way that you are unpacking them. If you look through file after file of letters, diaries, notes and manuscripts without finding a single hint of a certain philosopher’s influence, or a self-criticism that redirects the work at a crucial point, it doesn’t necessarily mean you are looking in the wrong place, or that something has been lost. The chances are that you are blinkering yourself to details that make up the real trends you should be seeking.

Before beginning archival work you should consider as many interpretations of an author’s work as you can, but as soon as you enter an archive, you should forget them all, and let the material show you how any interpretation was made possible. Archival work means letting go of theory and opening yourself to the working habits of the author. Tracing the different versions of a novel or a poem, noting re-writings and deleted passages, reading comments in notes or correspondence, recording strange details in case future findings make sense of them – a picture emerges of creativity in action, the writer’s consciousness at its own spontaneous work. This can never limit itself to themes that you have set down before starting. You have to record what you see and draw conclusions.

All of this will sound obvious, but the temptations of both romance and restriction run deep. Even if you get to know an author’s habits and documents well, there is still danger: you might assume that a certain pattern exists where it doesn’t, or decide not to look into a file of correspondence because the addressee of the letters wasn’t important enough, only to miss a letter that is an astonishing window on your writer’s self-knowledge. Hard as it may be when you’re a groupie sitting at the desk of your literary star, you just have to control yourself, never letting a lead go, but equally being careful where it leads you.

What you do next – restarting your critical interpretation in the light of what you have seen – has its own problems. Now you have reached the point where your preferred themes may become important again, but as well as being convincing you need to be trustworthy. If there’s a certain detail in the manuscripts that doesn’t conform to your interpretation, you need to decide what to do with it. Perhaps it’s an aberration, even a mistake, on the writer’s part; an experiment that didn’t work very well, even a totally unrelated bit of writing that was scribbled down on the same page. Equally, a strange, cryptic, out-of-place phrase may still mean something to someone – to the person who will read your work, as you have read your writer’s. The point archival work is to illuminate the subject, the material, not to transform it. Don’t leave out what you don’t understand. The real beauty of archival research is that you get to see a writer’s work in all its ugliness. Your work should represent that unselectively.

Archival work recalls, as nothing else does, the raw moment of first reading an author, unprepared and unsuspecting; the sense of discovery and identification, even closeness, and above all of endless, volatile possibility. I’ve found some wonderful writing, you think, It could take me anywhere.

Of Coffee, Cakes, and an Obligatory Saint: the Feast of San Martino

Mon, 11 Nov 2013 18:30:00 GMT

Throughout most of the westernised world we have just celebrated the festival of Halloween. Each year many protest the intrusion of what they see as an Americanised festival into their indigenous traditions, and it did look a little anachronistic here in Venice to see Halloween paraphernalia in many shop windows. But now, barely a fortnight later, the windows are full of paraphernalia for a different and delightful festival here in the city, one with many similarities to Halloween in the ways in which it is celebrated by the children of Venice, but which is completely enmeshed in Venetian tradition. This is the Feast of San Martino, celebrated on 11 November for at least three centuries now.

This is my first introduction to the Festa di San Martino. As a part-Hungarian italophile, what is not to like about this saint? Number 1: he is Hungarian – a huge plus; number 2: amongst his several portfolios, he is the patron saint of wine and wine making – second huge plus; number 3: he has a certain level of panache in the clothes department – third huge plus; and finally, number 4: his feast day is celebrated in Venice with beautiful cakes – plus again. Slightly more puzzling is the fact that he is also the patron saint of cuckolds, but few Venetians (at least as far as I know) are celebrating that fact this weekend. Were I living in Rocca Canterano instead I would be writing a very different blog this week. There the Festa del Cornuto occurs this weekend with the welcoming slogan: “Alla rocca benvenuti voi grandissimi cornuti” (All great cuckolds are welcome in this city) and in other Italian towns they are serving Rappacornuti soup. But this is not going to be a blog about cuckoldry or about soup.

You may know him as Martin of Tours, but to my peoples he is Márton of Szombathely because he was born in 315 or 316 in the Roman territory of Pannonia (present day Hungary). He spent his early years in Ticinum (now Pavia) in Italy. As required by Roman law, as the son of a military veteran, at the age of fifteen he became a soldier, and, on his journeyings in what was then Gaul, at the gates of the city of present-day Amiens, in the middle of winter, he came across a poor beggar. Ever pragmatic, Márton was not foolish enough to give the beggar the full substantial woollen cloth off his back and risk perishing of cold himself. No, he flourished his sword, and cut his cloak in half so that he and the beggar could both see through the night. Legend has it that at this moment, the sun unexpectedly came out, and that that night Márton dreamt of the beggar who now appeared to him as Christ himself, wearing his half of the cloak. This encounter obviously forced some reflection in the man, and shortly after he gave up his worldly goods altogether (the tale does not relate what became of his half of the cloak), sought to be baptised, and became a monk, eventually being elevated (with appropriate and humble reluctance) to the position of Bishop of the city of Tours.

We might expect, therefore, that Martón’s feast day should be celebrated in France, or Pavia, or even Szombathely. But why Venice? Why would Venetians offer a particular homage to this saint? Goodness knows there are plenty of others here in the city of 125 churches that could have festivities in their honour instead. San Martino is the protector of the Island of Burano in the lagoon, where there is a church dedicated to him, and he also has an eponymous church in the sestiere of Castello, where there is a small confraternal building dating to the early sixteenth century built by the caulkers of the Arsenal with his image in bas relief. But neither of these facts really impinges on the reason for celebrating his feast day in Venice, nor for the way in which it is celebrated here.

Instead, it is a group of Swiss who, in the late seventeenth century, brought about a revolution in the eating culture of this city, and subsequently throughout Europe, and who ensured that the Saint’s feast would be celebrated here. Poor immigrants from the Swiss Canton of Graubünden had been welcomed in Venice with a special edict in 1603 because their pastry making skills were particularly highly valued. By the early 1700s, more than eighty per cent of the pastry shops of Venice were run by people from Graubünden. The Swiss in Venice were granted permission to form a confraternity and had their meetings in a building next to the Church of San Marcuola. (Unfortunately the building was demolished in 1806 in the wake of Napoleon’s suppression of religious institutions in the city).

Nor did they stop at pastry. Although the famous Florian café on Piazza San Marco, founded in 1720, is the oldest coffee shop in Italy still in continuous operation, according to Bo Lönnqvist ( Pastries: A Study of the Cultural Expression of Luxury (Schildts, 1998)), the first coffee shop in Venice was opened in 1680 by a Swiss immigrant from Graubünden. This immigrant devised a culinary pairing which seems so natural to us that it seems remarkable that it had not occurred to anyone before. In a city in which the newly introduced concoction called coffee had previously only been sold through pharmacies, and in which pastries had only been served as a dessert, this Swiss gentleman decided to serve pastries together with a cup of coffee.

In addition, the feast day of San Martino coincides with the period for tasting the new wines, and dinners would be held to celebrate the new wine in the city, at which pastries were served. It is these Swiss pastry makers who are credited with devising a pastry in the shape of San Martino himself, bringing the custom of the San Martino biscuit to the city.

In 1766, when the edict allowing free trade and settlement by these Swiss expired in Venice, it was not renewed, and so many of them left the city, and took their winning coffee/pastry combination to other parts of Europe, and from thence to the rest of the world.

Originally poor people would come out on the feast day of San Martino and open empty pockets asking for salami and ham. Now it is the children of Venice who dominate the proceedings. Just as for Halloween, Venetian children dress up for this feast day, but not as ghouls, rather with snazzy red capes and soldiering caps. They go around the city with saucepan lids, pots and pans, making as much noise as they can, singing a traditional song (see below), and going into shops requiring the payment of sweets or money in return for peace and quiet.

So what is the San Martino biscuit? It is a pastafrolla (shortcrust pastry), in the shape of San Martino on his horse, sword up-raised ready to cut his cloak, which is covered in icing and chocolates. There is also a type of sweet made from quince and decorated with little silver sugar dragees. On the island of Burano, the San Martino biscuit is made instead from a base of pasta dei bussolà; the famous biscuits of Burano, made from flour, eggs, sugar and vanilla.

There is also a traditional song to be sung, of which there are a couple of variants:

S. Martin xe ‘nda’ in sofita (San Martino è andato in soffitta)
a trovare ea nonna Rita (a trovare la nonna Rita)
nona Rita non ghe gera (La nonna Rita lì non c’era)
S. Martin col cueo par tera (e San Martino è finite col sedere per terra)
E col nostro sachetin (e col nostro sacchettino)
Cari signori xe S. Martin (cari signori è San Martino)

Or:
San Martin xe nda’ in soffita
a trova ea so novissa,
so novissa no ghe gera
san Martin casca part tera,
e col nostro sacchetin,
cari signori xe san martin,
FORA EL SOLDIN!!!

At those who fail to give the children anything to eat, the following is sung:

Tanti ciodi gh'è in sta porta,

tanti diavolo che ve porta,

tanti ciodigh'è in sto muro,

tanti bruschi ve vegna sul culo.

Vale, Giorgio Orelli (1921-2013)

Sun, 10 Nov 2013 12:44:00 GMT

Orelli’s poetry may be compared justly with that of Sweden’s Tomas Tranströmer and with that of the late Seamus Heaney (1939-2013). With Tranströmer he shares a sense of the fleeting, uncanny and wordless meaning that seems to emanate from nature – a meaning that human beings, in our heady, over-conscious fretting over trivia, can all too easily miss. Brown butterflies, so common they are usually dismissed, suddenly and radiantly recall the depth of the poet’s love for his wife:

né tu né io quest’anno ci saremmo
ricordati del nostro anniversario
se d’improvviso riaprendosi, prima
di volar via, l’una non avesse,
e l’altra e l’altra, un attimo, mostrato
un 8 limpidissimo, arancione.

More often than not, however, such encounters are not blissful, but quietly menacing. Humanity is so detached from nature that the messages all around are now incomprehensible. The human figures in Orelli’s landscape – hunters, farmers, trekkers – blunder on about their business, heedless of the distress they cause in their surroundings and bewildered when suddenly nature interferes with their plans. Rain comes over the fields like an assault, hunters feel their guns suddenly turned aside, birds that were targets a moment ago take flight in disturbing, shrieking formations. All is not well in Eden: Switzerland may be a sanctuary for people, but for Orelli that relief from social strife focuses the deeper, more essential alienation from the world on which people depend. Indeed, the silent aggression that seems to brood beneath the surface of so many of his natural scenes suggests that nature may now consider humanity an intruder, an aberration that must be cleared out.

But there is always a spark of hope. With Seamus Heaney, Orelli shares an attachment to home ground, a belief that the details and memories of one’s original places (childhood homes, familiar haunts) hold sufficient power to keep the imagination fresh, and the senses and conscience alert to changes in the fabric of one’s setting. The redress to the imbalances in the sanctuary lies in remembering its instinct of nurturing and keeping; in looking past its almighty powers to punish and destroy (the avalanche, the predator, the storm) to its one great power to embrace. This conviction that the sanctuary endures underwrote Orelli’s poetry from a very early stage. In “Carnevale a Prato Leventina” ( L’ora del tempo , 1962), a black and jaded day cannot repress the contentment the old men of the village feel at simply being where they are, where they have always been, the young men they once were still kept gladly in their old bodies, surely to fade away consoled:

I ragazzi nascosti nei vecchi
che hanno teste pesanti e lievi gobbe
entrano taciturni nelle case
dopocena: salutano con gesti
rassegnati.
Li seguo di lontano,
mentre affondano dolci nella neve.

Now, Giorgio Orelli, their distant follower, has himself come to the place where outlines blur, to pass into the blank softness of a Swiss winter. With him goes a rich and rare link to a season of modern Italian lyric poetry. He lived and wrote in the time of Ungaretti, Montale, Sereni, Saba, Pasolini, Zanzotto, travelling further into the valleys they opened, and turning their concentrated way with the Italian language to enriching the Italian perception of nature, the canvas on which so much human drama has left unthinking and regrettable marks. Orelli’s poetry laments humanity’s divorce from its roots, but his outlook was essentially a reassuring one. In reading his poetry we find that nature’s self-possession has much to tell us about redressing our own alienation, both from it, and from each other. Addio, Giorgio Orelli. Ci mancherai.

Plague, Place, and Fear in Early Modern Florence

Tue, 05 Nov 2013 10:04:00 GMT

Nick Eckstein writes ...

At least two of the objectives of my research are very different from those of recent historiography on medicine, epidemiology and plague relief. The first is to demonstrate how fear of plague influenced governmental and upper-class perceptions of the Florentine urban environment. The second, wider, aim is to advance scholarship on early-modern neighbourhood and community. It will do this in an innovative way by shedding new light on an inherently spatial, geometrically inflected discourse that informed Florentine understanding and use of the city over a long period.

I treat the Visitations, and a range of comparable sources, as evidence of a symbolic cultural performance in which citizens defined, constructed and reinvented their relationship to places, spaces and their fellow inhabitants. This analysis will create new insight on major themes including:

• The impact of disease on contemporary perception of urban space and the city at large;

• Aristocratic perceptions of the poor, sick, and underprivileged;

• Fears of lower-class disorder and unrest;

• The relationship between the charitable mission of Florentine confraternities, civic identity and contemporary constructions of community;

• Continuities and discontinuities in the discursive understanding of and engagement with streets, neighbourhood and micro-neighbourhood (streets, street-corners, small precincts) between the early 15th and 17th centuries.

The research for this project is in its early stages. I will be carrying out a significant amount of the necessary archival work during 2014 with the aim of having the book completed in 2016.

Invitation to become a member of LCNAU

Mon, 04 Nov 2013 14:01:00 GMT

LCNAU aims to be proactive in highlighting the dynamism in teaching, research and outreach evident in the languages and cultures sector. Our national LCNAU Colloquia (2011 Melbourne and 2013 Canberra) provided excellent opportunities for networking, and sharing of such best practice. And participants at these national events have also enjoyed the significant benefits of attending them – without charge. We trust that the experience of your colleagues will confirm the value of the National Colloquia. The 2011 refereed proceedings are available online for global dissemination, while we are currently working on the 2013 refereed proceedings. These activities, and more, will continue to be important features of LCNAU’s operations into the future. In mid-2013, LCNAU achieved its goal of becoming an incorporated association.

We are very fortunate that with institutional support we are able currently to maintain a small part-time secretariat. However, we also need support from members, as well as participation and involvement, for LCNAU to continue successfully into the future. Annual membership is very reasonable at just $75 annual charge + $20 initial joining fee (special concession also available) and has a number of benefits. It is our understanding that membership may also be tax deductible as a work expense. We would be grateful if you could fill in the membership form and complete your payment (by credit card/PayPal, direct deposit or cheque). The membership flyer also contains detailed information about LCNAU. Any encouragement you could give to your colleagues to join would also be much appreciated. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact us .

Thank you in advance for your support and we look forward to working with you in the Network,

John Hajek, President

Anya Lloyd-Smith (Woods), Secretary and Treasurer

On behalf of the LCNAU National Committee

Le XI Giornate della traduzione letteraria, Urbino

Thu, 31 Oct 2013 08:42:00 GMT

I was lucky enough this month to attend the XI Giornate della traduzione letteraria in Urbino. This is an annual event dedicated to the practice and profession of literary translation, organized by Stefano Arduini and Ilide Carmignani.

The keynote address, “Tradurre lo stile nell’era della globalizzazione”, was by author, translator and academic Tim Parks. Using examples from the writing of a number of modernist writers, he showed how close analysis often reveals unusual turns of phrase that are difficult to reproduce in Italian (and that in fact are often normalized to some degree in translation). A word like unrestfully (which appears in The Great Gatsby ) has complex connotations and a slightly odd quality that make it very difficult to transfer into another language. Parks suggested that as a result of living in an era of globalization, novelists might be beginning to write with one eye on ease of translation, avoiding the kind of language and cultural content that might cause headaches for international audiences. The only ones apparently immune might be American writers who can and often do expect their audiences to have a wide knowledge of numerous cultural artefacts and references appearing in their work.

An entertaining seminar on “Il linguaggio dei sensi: le scene di sesso nella traduzione di un romance storico” was presented by Alessandra Roccato of Harlequin Mondadori. The participants, mostly novice translators, were surprised to learn how much manipulation is accepted, indeed considered essential, in taking an Anglophone romance novel across into the Italian market. Certain types of description are avoided or rephrased; cuts are made. The translators and editors working in this sector know their market well and they know what does and does not appeal.

For example, American readers will turn a blind eye to anachronisms in historical romance novels, but Italian readers will write in to the publisher to complain about such oversights. Le lettrici italiane are also put off by realistic but unromantic details like his and her teeth accidentally clacking together during a kiss! And they like more lexical variety in a scene, meaning that more ways need to be found to describe the sensuous goings-on. All this led to earnest discussions of Italian equivalents for “clefts”, “creases” and “innermost folds”, “darting tongues” and “worlds exploding” (this latter expression deemed far too cliché for the Italian rosa readership to accept).

Anna Mioni, translator and literary agent spoke about the changing world of publishing in the electronic age. In her seminar, entitled “Le sfide per il traduttore in un’editoria che cambia: di e-book e altre modernità”, she emphasized the flexibility e-books offer publishers, writers and translators. For one thing, they eliminate the tragic phenomenon of remainders (she described the poignant moment in which remaindered copies of a new title arrive back at the publishing house). Painstaking typesetting will be a thing of the past too. The opportunities for electronic and online publishing were discussed in a number of other seminars as well, and the audience of young aspiring translators was clearly interested in exploring these innovative avenues. Questions of copyright and piracy are a concern to many but Mioni advocates open access and the removal of rights management restrictions so as to allow us to use the goods we purchase however we like (and on the assumption that no matter how sophisticated the anti-piracy software, pirates will soon find even more sophisticated ways of getting around it).

Giovanna Schocchera, a prolific translator from English as well as a translation theorist, spoke on the topic “Che cos’è la revisione? Un percorso conoscitivo fra teoria e pratica professionale”. She presented the preliminary findings of a study investigating the training and practical experience of those engaged in literary translation and in the checking and revising of others’ translations. Best practice would be for publishers always to engage a specialist translator-revisor to carefully check and revise the translations submitted, but in reality, this step is skipped all too often due to time or financial restrictions, meaning translators have to self-revise. At the very least, skills in checking and revision should be taught as part of translation degrees so that young translators are equipped for the reality of the industry.

Other presenters gave seminars on the translation of tourist guides, children’s literature, the classics, and even the untranslatable. There were roundtables on the state of the industry and, importantly, its future, as well as instructive seminars providing budding translators with important advice on contracts, legal obligations and union membership.

‘Madonna dei Bagni … Prega per noi': a trip to Italy's maiolica heartland.

Sun, 20 Oct 2013 10:28:00 GMT

Wandering along the banchette of one of Venice's regular mercati antiquari the other day , my eye was caught by a lovely little tazza di caffé. Turning it over, I saw that it was by Ginori, and I felt a little pang that I didn't have to hand the 40 euro that the stall owner wanted for it.

Makers of fine porcelain in Doccia since its foundation by Marquis Carlo Ginori in 1735, and then in Sesto Fiorentino since 1954, and providers of employment to a substantial number of skilled workers, the firm of Richard Ginori was declared bankrupt in January of this year. After difficult negotiations, it was finally acquired by Gucci in April for 13 million euro, with plans to reinvigorate the brand, and market its wares to China in particular. The notion that hereby a Tuscan firm has been rescued by one of its own is, of course, a fiction as Gucci itself is owned by the French luxury conglomerate, Kering (formerly PPR). The fate of Ginori, swallowed up by a luxury brand giant, with all the publicity it has received in recent months, brought to mind another ceramics industry in Italy that is far older than Ginori, the impact upon which by the global financial crisis of the last few years has been just as deadly, and yet whose painful demise has gone by largely unnoticed. That industry is maiolica , and one with several links to Australia.

The tradition of maiolica , a type of pottery originating in the middle east, and brought to Italy by way of the Moors in Spain, is one that became particularly popular in Renaissance Italy. The name maiolica is applied to any Italian pottery that is highly decorated on a white tin glaze background. In the Renaissance, great value was placed on maiolica which artfully depicted scenes from antiquity, the bible, or mythology ( istoriato -ware), and also on the prestigious variant of lustre-ware. The latter involves three separate firings, before the last of which the pot is decorated with metallic pigments. The final result is a film of lustrous metal over the pot, which can look remarkably like gold.

Serious fans of Renaissance maiolica find themselves inevitably consulting the work of Timothy Wilson. Wilson is curator of western art at the Ashmolean museum in Oxford, itself a great repository of Renaissance maiolica . Perhaps a more surprising, if small, repository of maiolica is the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne . Pieces in the NGV collection, some of which come from Isabella d’Este’s famous istoriato -ware dinner service, brought Timothy Wilson to Australia a few years ago in order to write a book on the NGV’s collection ( Italian maiolica in the collection of the National Gallery of Victoria, 2014). I met up with Timothy again a couple of years ago in Oxford, where over lunch I happened to mention that I would shortly be travelling to Italy, together with my mother, in order to go on a maiolica hunt. My mother, a potter from Western Australia, has long had an interest in maiolica , and has lectured on the aspirations of maiolica , the ‘upwardly mobile pot.’ The energetic Timothy immediately became even more animated than usual. He took a pen and wrote down a succession of names that it was vital for us to contact. He told me to use his name shamelessly. I did. And a hidden world of Umbrian pottery opened up for my mother and me on what was to become one of my most memorable trips to Italy.

In Perugia, we were collected from our hotel by Maurizio Tittarelli Rubboli in order to go to his hometown of Gualdo Tadino. It would be hard to find a more charming and enthusiastic guide to the world of Umbrian pottery. Maurizio is a third generation maiolica potter and has established a foundation together with Marinella Caputo, with the aim of opening a museum to highlight the contribution of Gualdo Tadino to the industry (see Marinella Caputo (ed.) The Rubboli Collection. Italian Lustre Pottery in Gualdo Tadino , Perugia: Aguaplano, 2012.) Maurizio’s maternal great grandfather was Paolo Rubboli who re-introduced the art of making gold and red lustre-ware pottery to Gualdo in 1873. We were taken to see the strangely named and shaped nineteenth-century ‘muffole’ or kilns, which his ancestor had built. Although they are housed in buildings in desperate need of repair, and themselves blackened from innumerable firings (one of which is still used by Maurizio himself), Maurizio was passionate about these kilns and their place in the history of Italian ceramics. They were built according to designs outlined in the celebrated work of Cipriano Piccolpasso in 1557 and are the only ones of their kind still remaining in Italy. Maurizio also took us to see examples of Paolo Rubboli’s work in the ancient Rocca Flea in Gualdo, a building made even more imposing by the threatening clouds shrouding the mountains.

Paulo Rubboli had trained in Gubbio before returning to Gualdo, and Gubbio was next on our itinerary, where we visited the pottery of Giampietro Rampini, who, together with Sante Capannelli is the founder of ‘mastri vasai’.

We then went to Deruta where Giulio Busti, a curator and authority on maiolica showed us the town’s ceramics museum (the oldest in Italy, founded in 1898), which is housed in the former cloisters of the church of San Francesco, and which conserves more than 6000 works of pottery together with a substantial library on ceramics. But the heart of our trip, in many ways, was the visit to the Grazia Factory in the centre of Deruta. Here, what, until a few years ago, had been a bustling maiolica factory, supplying large pieces mainly to the US market (including to Tiffany, Barney’s, Saks, Niemans and others), a sad and desperate story unfolded. Ubaldo della Grazia, named after the great saint of Umbria, is the current proprietor of U. Grazia Majoliche Artistiche Artigianali, the 25 ^th generation of his family to head a pottery workshop that is 513 years old, in a town that has been producing maiolica officially since 1290.

Here Australian potters have been regular visitors and the factory’s museum displays the work of several of these Australians produced during their time in Deruta. The Global Financial Crisis, however, hit the Grazia business badly, and many of their standard orders have dried up. That, together with the increasing flooding of a global market with mass produced imitations has meant a reluctance on the part of consumers to buy finely crafted artisanal pots that cost many times the price. At the time of our visit, there was only a skeleton staff working at the factory, and Ubaldo had reluctantly laid off many of his other skilled workers, and spoke of the possibility of shutting down the factory.

As evening began to fall, my mother and I drove up into the hillside outside Deruta where there is another pilgrimage site, not just for enthusiasts of maiolica , but for the believing faithful. A tiny sanctuary, that of the Madonna dei Bagni, sits on the hillside, in a clearing of an oak wood where numerous small springs bubble forth. In the mid seventeenth century, so the story goes, a Capuchin friar on a rambling woodland path found a shard of a cup made of maiolica depicting the virgin and child. The friar placed it carefully on a nearby oak sapling where it was subsequently found by a passing merchant, Christofano of Casalina, who nailed it to the sapling for security. The fate of the shard took on some significance when Christofano's wife became mortally ill in 1657. Rushing to the shard, Christofano prayed for a miracle. When he arrived home, miraculously, his wife was cured. And so the cult of the intercessionary power of the Madonna dei Bagni grew. An altar was built around the oak tree itself with its tiny, precious image, and a sanctuary in turn built to house the altar.

Like other locations of miraculous images in Italy, ex voti began to encroach upon the walls giving thanks for miracles received. However the roughly 700 ex voti in this sanctuary are unique as each one is depicted on a rectangle of maiolica. Every inch of the walls is, indeed, now covered with these maiolica panels depicting a series of rescues from calamity. Some of the oldest depict women and men with evil demons successfully expunged; others depict hunting accidents; boating trips gone awry; successful conclusions to difficult births, and so on. Nor is the tradition a dead one. One of the panels shows miraculous survival from a Yamaha motorcycle accident and the most recent of all gives thanks for 36 years of marriage (surely a miracle these days). The sanctuary is well tended, with fresh daisies on the altar. It was deserted when my mother and I were there, and we had this magical place to ourselves.

We left the sanctuary as darkness was settling over the hillside. I thought about those maiolica workers in the valley below – the years of training and talent now at risk, the beautiful pieces of pottery without a market – and thought of their need for a miracle.

Disfunctional Female Detectives: the Exception or the Norm?

Wed, 16 Oct 2013 23:24:00 GMT

I have recently been watching the Danish/Swedish TV series “The Bridge” which, like many other hundreds of thousands of people in the world, I am enjoying very much. However, I can’t help but being a little annoyed by the female protagonist, who, like many other fictional female detectives nowadays, is disfunctional. Actually, in “The Bridge” case, very, very disfunctional. The Swedish detective Saga, who shows an extreme lack of empathy towards colleagues, witnesses, victims and whoever is involved in her investigations and life, is in good company.

In the last few years we have been getting used to Smilla, Lisbeth Salander, and Sarah Lund, just to name a few characters, and I wonder if disfunctional female sleuths are now the norm. I also wonder if – according to this new trend – female detectives need to suffer from Asperger syndrome or mild autism in order to be efficient and work-oriented; or if they need to have behavioral issues in order to enjoy a free sexual life. It may argued that the female sleuth is once more inheriting traits from her male counterparts. In other words, they may be following the path of Monk and compagnia bella, but I still think there is a gender representation issue here. Do you agree? I would also like to know if there are disfunctional women detectives in Italian crime fiction. Any examples?

Appointment of ACIS Honorary Research Associate

Wed, 16 Oct 2013 08:09:00 GMT

ACIS is delighted that Theodore Ell has accepted an appointment as an Honorary Research Associate. As followers of our blog will know, he is an expert on the poetry of Piero Bigongiari and co-editor of the international literary magazine Contrappasso . In addition to converting his PhD thesis into a book, he will also be working to develop a network of activities and exchanges for postgraduates and early career researchers in Italian Studies.

Quaderno poetico #6: Going behind the scenes (II) – Archives

Tue, 08 Oct 2013 05:14:00 GMT

This is the first of two posts about working in archives, where so many of us spend so much our time, in Italy and elsewhere. My work concentrates on the Florentine poet Piero Bigongiari and I will have more to say about working on his archival materials later, as well as talking about the technical questions involved – transcribing handwriting, handling old paper and so on. First, though, I have found myself reflecting on archival work in general, the fascination, frustrations, fun and fanaticism that surround it. I’m interested to hear other people’s archival stories and philosophies, particularly if they disagree with mine. Archival work often makes you feel that you’re the only one in the world doing what you’re doing (a chosen one, even!) but of course we’re never alone. The Renaissance scholar Gene Brucker has called himself an ‘archive junkie.’ There must be more out there. Be proud of it.

Tuscany meets Milan @ Datini office™ ☞ 1382

Mon, 07 Oct 2013 08:03:00 GMT

Aged a mere fifteen, Datini moved to Avignon in the south of France to begin trading in arms and armour and eventually founded trading warehouses in Prato, Avignon, Florence, Pisa, Genoa, Barcelona, Valencia and the Balearic Islands. On his return to Prato from Avignon in December 1382, he stopped for a week in Milan to gather supplies for his onward journey and to establish trade agreements with fellow merchants. The main trading partner Datini gained was the Pescina family, a large and established Milanese family. In return for a commission of 2.5%, the Pescinas agreed to supply Datini and his warehouses with arms, armour, metals, fustians, and any other item he requested. Including the four main correspondents in the Pescina family, Datini and his associates would finally carry on direct correspondence with at least another four merchants either from or near Milan, as well as from the main trading areas all over Lombardy.

The letters sent from Datini’s correspondents in Milan to his trading outposts have been preserved in the voluminous Datini Archive in Prato which contains over 810 letters from Milan. Of these, 526 were written by Datini’s employees, all Tuscan, (who travelled to Milan on business errands and to meet with the Pescinas) and are thus in Tuscan, 70 were written by other Tuscans or merchants who were from a Tuscan family or by merchants whose provenance I have been unable to establish, 9 pieces of correspondence are not letters, 4 are in Latin and one letter was sent by an anonymous merchant. Of the remaining 200, I was able to identify the handwriting of 84 letters written by merchants from or near Milan.

All references to Tuscanisation in Lombardy are made in the élite contexts of the chancery or literary usage. Vitale’s study of the chancery ( La lingua volgare della cancelleria visconteo-sforzesca nel Quattrocento, 1953) showed that Tuscan was already being used outside the sphere of literature in northern Italy during the Quattrocento. Before this, the available histories of the vernacular in Lombardy give the impression that Tuscan was not a model for non-literary writing and that Tuscan influence in orthography and morphology is little evident. More recent studies have concluded that Tuscan was in fact much more widespread than originally thought during the late Trecento and early Quattrocento, but have focused their attention on literature or texts that were intended for a narrowly selected audience. Indeed acquaintance with Tuscan outside Tuscany during the 14th and 15th centuries was advanced not only through the reading of the Three Crowns, and the increased mobility of poets, notaries, podestà, judges and ambassadors. But, although equally mobile in their professional work, the merchants from Milan who were writing to Francesco Datini are removed from both a courtly and a literary environment. In other words, Tuscan’s presence is felt not only in the highest strata of Milanese society but it was also, at the other end of the spectrum, known and used for successful communication between the not-so-educated merchant class and sometimes, as in the case of the Datini network of writers, over significant geographical distances. So what might at first seem like a matter simply of establishing the origins and extent of Tuscanisation in Milan also has profound socio-cultural implications for the much wider issue of the language merchants preferred to use for their professional correspondence – a key element in the infrastructure of expanding commercial life.

Emotional geographies of Italian transnational spaces

Thu, 26 Sep 2013 23:02:00 GMT

Francesco Ricatti University of the Sunshine Coast The new issue of Cultural Studies Review (volume 19 issue 2) includes a section I have co-edited with Maurizio Marinelli on Emotional geographies of the uncanny: reinterpreting Italian transnational spaces. Our aim was to read transnational spaces constructed and inhabited by Italian migrants and settlers to Australasia as […]

The global circulation of crime fiction: The case of Gianluca Carofiglio

Mon, 16 Sep 2013 11:02:00 GMT

Gianrico Carofiglio

Crime fiction – what it is or is not, who reads it, how it circulates – was the focus of a conference hosted earlier this month by Leeds University and the Crime Studies Network . Papers, keynote addresses and panel discussions explored the theme “Retold, Resold, Transformed: Crime Fiction in the Modern Era” .

One session of particular interest to scholars of Italian crime fiction was “Retelling the Italian Noir”, a panel discussion with Gianrico Carofiglio , acclaimed novelist and former prosecutor from Bari; Howard Curtis, translator of several of Carofiglio’s novels and many other Italian and French literary texts; and François von Hurter, co-founder of Bitter Lemon Press , a publishing house specializing in translated crime fiction. The discussion was chaired by Dr Gigliola Sulis, Director of Italian at Leeds University.

For his part, Carofiglio emphasized the psychological aspect of his work, both when he was a prosecutor and in his fiction. During his years in the judiciary he learnt that the criminal mind is a normal mind; that is what makes it so interesting, and such good material for fiction. When he returned to writing – after a “25-year vacation” that lasted from his early teens until early middle age – he did not think his first novel, Testimone inconsapevole (2002), was a crime story. In fact, he told conference delegates he had mixed feelings when the critic Corrado Augias described it as “the best legal thriller of the year”.

This is perhaps testament to the lingering suspicion many people feel about “crime fiction”, and also about the constant labelling and compartmentalizing of literature by publishers and critics. Carofiglio confessed, though, that he was subsequently rather grateful when he saw first-hand the dramatically increased sales that resulted from the “crime fiction” label! But labels aside, for Carofiglio, the crime story is ultimately a powerful tool for saying many other things – it helps him to keep the reader engrossed, giving space to tell what he wants to tell. While he doesn’t set out with a “message” in mind, his books do explore the things he believes in. He draws an important distinction between fiction and falsity. Good fiction says true things with fictional characters, and this “truth” is central to the ethical dimension of writing.

Von Hurter, too, emphasized the idea that “crime fiction” could be a convenient label for books representing a wide variety of writing styles and themes, but that share the potential to open up other worlds for the reader. Bitter Lemon Press seeks to “bait” readers with crime so that then they become “hooked” on foreign fiction more generally. On the Anglophone book market, percentages of translated works still languish embarrassingly low, but it seems that crime writing could be an important tool in increasing English-speaking readers’ exposure to and understanding of other cultures and ways of life. Translation plays a central part in all this, as do publishers, academics and other “agents” involved in the global circulation of literature.

Stepping away from the all-too-common but ultimately rather unproductive focus on loss in translation, on the incompatibilities between languages, Curtis observed that in fact the self-deprecating irony of Carofiglio’s Guerrieri books is actually very English and comes over well in translation. (And in a sneak preview of his next novel, Carofiglio revealed that it will be written in the second person, a technique that will further sharpen the self-deprecation, because the teller can pass judgement on himself.) This felicitous translatability may be due to the wide range of Anglophone, and especially US, influences Carofiglio cites among his favourite authors. In learning his craft, and particularly the writing of dialogue that sounds realistic but “not taped”, he found that continental literature did not provide the models he needed. Instead it was from American writers, and particularly John Steinbeck, whose writing is “like painting with basic colours”, that he learned to write dialogue.

This is yet another illustration of the way our literary systems are in constant flux and in constant communication, with innovation and inspiration across languages and cultures contributing to the circulation of new ideas and new ways of writing.

More information about the Leeds conference including recordings of this panel and other plenary sessions, is available here .

Quaderno poetico #4: How the poetry works (II)

Mon, 16 Sep 2013 07:26:00 GMT

What do you notice about these two samples of poetry?

“…se il vento rintocca nelle corti / come un rullo sordo e opaco di tamburo, / un ululo fedele accanto al muro / del padrone addormentato.”

“Le corti fiorentine / rintoccano a morto in una cupa vanità / come una pelle tesa di tamburo, / le ardesie soffocate di polvere quassù in alto…”

The quotations come from two separate poems, “La notte fiorentina,” written on the 27th of February 1946, and “Inverno arido,” written a few days later on the 3rd and 4th of March. But yes, the thing you notice is the repetition. Different poems, same material: the courtyards reverberating with a menacing, drumhead sound. The last post ended with the suggestion that Bigongiari’s writing unfolded through a process of elaboration , treating certain phrases, words or situations as motifs, to be taken up from previous poems and recoloured in new ones. What you see here is an example of elaboration in action.

The idea of the rumbling in the courtyard is not simply repeated. It is expressed in much the same words, but phrased so that each treatment leads in a subtly different direction, and “clothed” differently by the surrounding material in each poem, so that emerging from and going back into two contexts, the same idea leaves two trails of meaning.

In the first example, the wind that reverberates in the courtyard like a deaf and opaque drumroll leads into a ghoulish evocation of howling or wailing, which the sleeping landlord fails to hear. It is a disturbing set of images, suggesting a sense of isolation and fear in the face of some terrible threat. The elements move so strangely and so rapidly from one to another (even the lines themselves, built from brief accents and broken with each change in the action, seem to run away) that we have little sense of groundedness or clarity of vision. We are in the lonely turbulence of a nightmare: perhaps the sleeping landlord hears nothing because the wailing is inside the dreamer’s (the poet’s) own mind. Then, with the motif’s second appearance, we are shifted out, away and beyond, with a clear-sighted view of the scene: we are watching on from high up in an empty mountain quarry, from which distance we can name our fears and feelings and regain some composure. The courtyards are Florentine, our reaction to their menacing atmosphere is resignation ( cupa vanità ). But ‘waking’ into this relative stability and ‘reciting’ the earlier mental images of fear only brings us face to face with the harsh reality that they reflect: “la lunga siccità, / i mesi di vita / covati dagli anni di morte…”

This is elaboration on a local scale, so to speak. The poems are, after all, neighbours, one written just after the other. It is not hard to imagine Bigongiari revisiting his work of a few days earlier, turning over its meaning in his mind and fixing on the image of the wind reverberating in the courtyard as a powerful, troubling, absorbing idea, asking to be explored further or built upon. More surprising are the lengths of time and reams of poetry that could go by between other cases of elaboration, often to staggering effect.

Bigongiari’s collection of wartime and post-war poems is called Rogo , meaning an intense, devastating, consuming blaze, as in a furnace or on a funeral pyre. This image of a destructive fire is a clear and potent symbol of the cataclysm Bigongiari understood the war to be, and it is the longest-running motif of the whole collection. Even though it often drops out of the poetry for long stretches, its returns mark essential transformations in the collection’s overall meaning. The psychological implications of this and other motifs, and of the method of elaboration itself, are a matter for a completely new post, but for now the priority is to trace the development of this fire motif on its own vast scale.

Aside from a lone ‘survivor’ from 1944, the earliest poems of Rogo date from 1945, when Bigongiari’s Florence was dark, gutted and groaning with exhaustion after a bloody liberation that had left the old city and most of the Arno bridges in ruins (though not, famously, the Ponte Vecchio). It is known from Bigongiari’s diaries that he had spent the worst of the siege – a full nine days – trapped in no less a place than the long halls of Accademia, unable to see the destruction, but, traumatically, able to hear everything echoing down the galleries around him, from shells and mortars screeching overhead, to the thuds and booms of explosions, the screams of the dying and wounded. When we encounter the motifs of rumbling in the courtyard, it is not difficult to guess at their origin in his mind, nor at their unsettling significance. The first poems of Rogo emerged, like Bigongiari himself, into a familiar place blown out of existence. They are steeped in an atmosphere of listlessness and despair. One in particular, “Nevi e lacrime,” points to the city’s “odore di fuoco spento,” and links this, via an image of ash and dying embers, to the state of the inner self: “il mio dolore / non sa più mescolarsi, indistinta / brace questo vento qua e là può sparpagliarlo.”

The poems continue on in this black mood, as new ideas slowly and painstakingly build upon one another, like new walls slowly rising from the rubble. By the poems of 1948 – yes, that far ahead – we are in a different space, somewhat fresher and freer, but still full of memories of wartime suffering: in effect, safe but traumatised. And suddenly, in the title poem “Rogo,” as if in a nightmare, those memories rear up out of the past. “E le strade leggere dei morti […] a un tratto s’animano, vicino a casa, / dei colpi sordi tirati a un pallone / da due ragazzi di notte.” The motif of menacing echoes is the courtyards is back, now in the form of the dull blows of kicks against a ball, a seemingly innocent sound, but enough to trigger terrifying thoughts in the traumatised mind: “Io [sono] preso dalla vampa di questa città…” The embers are suddenly alight and we are caught in the flames. All is chaos; the nightmare of the rumbling in the courtyards has led to a vision of grotesque sacrifice and destruction, as at the end of the poem the fire is left to burn: “vero e non vero sono forse la stessa cosa […] e il resto appartiene al discorso urlato dai morti / iene attorno al rogo.”

As catastrophic as this appears, the poem “Rogo” contains the seeds of the trauma’s own resolution. In the midst of the chaos, “quasi un’orma si stampa in mezzo al fuoco.” It is an unexpected, almost miraculous image, easy to overlook in such a disturbing poem, but still it asserts some minimal form of survival when all else is burning down. A footprint, a signature, a transmission. This is the main achievement of Bigongiari’s post-war poetry: to seek out among the ruins the minimal impulse to live, and to cling to it even when so much else in life seems too much to bear. This rogo is a furnace, but it is also a crucible: the matter it destroys it then converts into new things, new thoughts. After this turning point, the poems of the late 40s and early 50s express a gradually more contented world-view, one that is reconciled to mortality, through awareness of the indestructible impulse that brings meaning to the living moment.

The whole symbolic drama is summed up in the second-last poem of Rogo , “Ibis redibis” (Latin: you shall go, you shall return) from 1952, when the fire motif reappears for the last time: “e nel fuoco quel che resta / di me di te, crepita, avanza, adora / la sua funebre essenza, ch’è sparire / di qui e nell’azzurro ritovare / con le stelle il suo corpo, nel ronzio / insonne che affatica l’universo / verso una voce.” The fire crackles and flares up once, but only to send some last sparks of thought on their way: that “ronzio / insonne” shows us that the menacing rumble has dimmed to a placid hum, always awake and alert, where previously nothing could rouse another man from his sleep.

To work out this and many other transformations took Bigongiari no less than eight years. And he did it without planning. Remember, his poems are presented in chronological order and with dates. The embers were scattered by the wind in 1945 with no hint that they would re-ignite so terribly in 1948, much less spark once more in happier times in 1952. How did Bigongiari trust himself to improvise the way towards such a coherent shape? What sense did he have of some larger shape of meaning, in which his poetry might be moving? We can draw out an answer if we read the poetry as self-psychoanalysis, a diary of symbols that resonate within oneself, and mirror the mind’s unfolding preoccupations: Rogo is a diary of recovery. The next post will have more to say about this. But it is only part of the solution. Sometimes you have to go behind the scenes of the text to see the full mechanism, and that means archival detective work.

Sexy e complicato

Tue, 03 Sep 2013 08:20:00 GMT

(Regretful disclosure: not my title, but the one SBS has used to publicise today’s talk by Andrea Rizzi discussing the beautiful exhibition ‘Libri: 6 Centuries of Italian Books‘ at the Baillieu library of the University of Melbourne). The exhibition closes shortly but a selection will remain online. Andrea’s focus is particularly on the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, published […]

Autobiographies

Tue, 03 Sep 2013 07:52:00 GMT

John Burrow

Autobiographies are a far less popular genre in Italy than in the Anglo-American world, as Peter Hainsworth and Martin McLaughlin (2007: 1, 9) note. And the one I am about to signal has only passing references to Italy so I have to apologise for stretching the boundaries of what visitors to this site would expect to find here. But the autobiography by the intellectual historian John Burrow who died in 2009 is so full of subtle portraits, colour and wit and can only be found rather far off the normal search track that I thought it would be worth flagging here . Since his last major work, A History of Histories (2007), contains substantial sections on Ancient Rome’s historians and on Villani, Machiavelli and Guicciardini, his autobiography also provides an unmissable insight into the ingredients which went into his approach to them. The title he chose, Memories Migrating , suggests a resonance with Australian experiences even though the only mention of this country is a brief allusion to his tenure of a visiting fellowship at the ANU in 1983. An equally well-hidden autobiography by another historian, Patrick Collinson, a contemporary of Burrow, has an engaging chapter on the author’s time in Sydney University’s Department of History in the early 1970s. (DM)

Scerbanenco, new translation welcome

Mon, 02 Sep 2013 03:18:00 GMT

I was very pleased to know that a new translation into English of Giorgio Scerbanenco’s “Traditori di tutti” (1966) has finally appeared this year. Published under the title of “Betrayal” by Hersilia Press , this new translation by Howard Curtis finally does justice to Scerbanenco’s distinctive style and (after more than forty years) re-introduces a masterpiece of Italian crime fiction to an English-speaking audience. When they first appeared in the 1960s, the adventures of Duca Lamberti, a former doctor struck off the register and imprisoned for practising euthanasia, captured first the attention and then the devotion of a large number of crime fiction readers in Italy.

After many years of American and British predominance in the Italian readership market, the cynical and melancholic Duca became “the hero that Italian crime fiction had been waiting for” (Oliva 2003, 180). In his crime novels Scerbanenco gives a vivid account of the consequences of the Economic Boom on Italy’s territory and its social fabric. He tackles important issues such as urbanization and pollution, consumerism, the rise of brutal organized crime in Milan and Europe, and political opportunism. Moreover his distinctive style that reproduces a colloquial Italian and his continuous reference to objects and symbols of everyday life makes him a precursor of the “Gioventu’ cannibale” literary movement (Ricci 2001,19). “Traditori di tutti”, probably the most famous novel of the Duca Lamberti series, was translated in 1970 under the ugly title of “Duca and the Milan Murders”. Full of mistakes, this translation also spoiled Scerbanenco’s prose. A new, more effective, translation has been long overdue. After translating for the first time into English the first book of the series, “Venere Privata” as “Private Venus” last year, Hersilia Press has now published a new English version of “Traditori”. Even though the new English title is not completely satisfactory (but we concede that translating the original title is an extremely difficult endeavour) the new version of the novel manages to preserve Scerbanenco’s style and pathos. Bravo, Hersilia Press. We are now looking forward to the translation of the remaining books of the series.

Quaderno poetico #3: How the poetry works (I)

Sun, 01 Sep 2013 10:32:00 GMT

This is the first of a number of posts that will map one way. The reality is that Bigongiari’s poetry is not nearly as difficult as it might seem: it’s only our ways of looking at it that can confuse us.

Writing about poetry can sometimes verge on guesswork. Poetry is a shape-shifter that often roams outside regular ways of making sense, leaving us with a feeling that what is said barely tells us anything about what is meant. How much licence can you allow the poetry, when your job is to name some specific purpose in it? The notion of poetics is essential but you have to be careful how wide you aim. If you think of poetics as a catch-all formula for a poet’s style, you may miss many variations, both subtle and dramatic. But if you think of poetics as an infinitely variable impromptu, you may lose the larger personality you’re after. The search for poetics is really a search for consistency, for the main habits at work in the poetry that offset and hold together anomalies and contradictions. It’s not enough to prescribe poetics like a ‘cure’ for the poetry’s mysteries. You need to understand the material that you see. The poetry is the result of a process of making, in which trial and error may have been just as important as plans and structure. Understanding poetics means understanding creative method, with all of creativity’s dead ends and back-tracking.

A fair amount has already been said about Bigongiari’s poetics, but it seems that there have indeed been problems with aim. Some critics have grounded Bigongiari’s poetics in the idea of the riddle, arguing that his highly abstract language is made of ‘encoded,’ ‘unlockable’ statements – from which the key is deliberately missing, leaving us in a permanent state of wondering. Other readers have viewed Bigongiari’s poetry as a long, impromptu wander through semantic and semiotic possibilities, with the poems experimenting in relating the unrelated, mirroring one mind’s ruminating on the uncountable puzzles we all face every day. Poems sometimes return to earlier material, seeming to think through it again.

They are two contrasting views – densely calculated mysteries, or improvisation in detail – but they illuminate two sides of the one reality: Bigongiari’s poems are an impromptu wander, through the permanent state of wondering. Remember that Bigongiari’s poems appear in chronological order with dates. They are a diary of grappling with the preoccupations that overlap and merge in the mind, and that are constantly fed by new sensations and impressions: structure emerges, but unpredictably, as the person gains perspective on the path life has taken. There are repetitions and reappearances, separations and dovetailings of ideas, as thought evolves and the individual grows. Moments in the poetry that seem not to fit with its general trends – those ‘anomalies and contradictions’ you have to watch for in describing poetics – can be comfortably accepted, and indeed explained, because they are understandable results of trains of thought that have petered out.

The key to Bigongiari’s poetics is the concept of elaboration . His poems are built of motifs: images, objects, fragments of experience or emotional description, which are constantly blended, re-coloured contrasted over long sequences of poems. The closest analogy is a musical score, in which recognisable themes recur in different patterns or moods, carrying with them the overall emotional and psychological effect. In Bigongiari’s poetry, the words aren’t necessarily words. They are brush-strokes, layers in a collage, flashes of vision or notes in a musical phrase, which all add up to create the feeling that a meaning is present, if not immediately decipherable.

This is unusual and in one respect astonishing. Bigongiari kept up this method of writing poetry for more than fifty years – his entire mature career. That is consistency! How did the method work, and how did it come about? That will be the subject of the next post. As we will see, it was a matter of poetry’s life or death.

Quaderno poetico #2: Peeling off the labels

Mon, 26 Aug 2013 03:33:00 GMT

When you write about authors who aren’t household names, the first thing you’re expected to do is place them somewhere in history, otherwise their writing won’t make sense. In Piero Bigongiari’s case this seems easy, as the job has been done for you by decades of common sense. The standard line is to say that Bigongiari was one of the terza generazione of ermetici . That is, he belonged to a group of poets who followed Ungaretti and Montale, dwelling on the abstract, the dreamlike and the mysterious. Other members of the terza generazione were Mario Luzi, Alessandro Parronchi and Alfonso Gatto, along with the critics Carlo Bo and Oreste Macrì. They all met as students in Florence in the 1930s, gathered in cafes for fervent discussion, and enjoyed one flowering of pure, apolitical poetic creativity (ignored by the Fascist regime, which didn’t get poetry) before the post-war shift leftwards in Italy’s cultural scene. Their moment was interesting while it lasted, but circumstances and politics turned taste elsewhere. This seems foolproof: the terza generazione come as a boxed set labelled Montale’s Friends , which fills out the library but which you pass over to read bigger things.

The problem with this approach is that it’s uncritical. In fact, it’s only triage. The terms terza generazione and ermetismo come to us easily because we don’t know enough about the poets concerned. Bigongiari, Luzi, Parronchi, Gatto, Bo, Macrì and others did indeed become friends as students in Florence in the ’30s, and their work does indeed relate seriously to that of Montale and Ungaretti. But is it fair to lump them together as ermetici ? And if not, how can they be a terza generazione of something they don’t represent? The truth is, they weren’t given a choice. The labels ermetismo and terza generazione were imposed by critics.

The word ermetismo was thought up by the critic Francesco Flora in 1936 to belittle the poetry of Ungaretti, which he regarded as vague intellectual fakery. This poetry’s Muse seemed to be Hermes, the uncatchable, ungraspable, elusive messenger God, rather than Calliope, Erato or Polyhymnia, respectable and clear-thinking figures who stayed still. The name also nodded to (or sneered at) Hermes Trismegistus, a figurehead for the practice of alchemy, and thus, in Flora’s eyes, the face of the intellectually suspect. Flora’s attack was vicious and missed the point – Ungaretti’s poetry was puzzling to read because his great subject was the mysterious quality of life – but the label ermetismo stuck. Bigongiari and company matured just when Flora coined it, and as the newest and least known arrivals on the scene, they were the most vulnerable to misunderstanding. They never asked for a label, never formally declared a movement, never wished to be thought of as other than themselves, but in the eyes of the influential they looked like a movement, so a movement they would be – despite protests.

The notion of a terza generazione (and a prima , a seconda and even a quarta generazione ) was conceived by Oreste Macrì in 1953, in an effort to bring some historical order to the way modernist Italian poetry was understood. Macrì was perceptive: important stylistic shifts could indeed be observed in the ‘waves’ of poets appearing on the scene over time and taking cues from their forerunners. Following Ungaretti’s spare, intensely evocative fragments came the densely-woven lyrics of Quasimodo and Montale, and following them came the concentrated personal meditations of Bigongiari, Luzi, Parronchi and Gatto. Macrì’s idea of “generazioni” was an attempt to break away from labels (he never classified these poets as ermetici himself), but they were too firmly set. The terza generazione del novecento was automatically the terza generazione dell’ermetismo because, to the reading public, ermetismo and the names of certain poets were assumed to be one and the same. And this still stands. None of which matters deeply, as long as we use these labels for the right reasons. They do help us to find these poets on the shelf; they have a lot in common that calls interestingly for a name. But you can’t let labels do the work for you. The ones that currently exist have only made us forget this sector of poetry, not remember it, much less investigate it. “ Ermetismo – aha! Abstraction, obscurity, difficulty. Terza generazione – the third wave of culprits!” Not true. Put the labels aside, forget all the assumptions, and soon you’ll see what Bigongiari and his companions were actually like.

Ricerche e accountability: cronaca di un evento

Mon, 19 Aug 2013 20:32:00 GMT

La mia prima difficoltà nasce dal titolo da dare a queste riflessioni, non trovando pertinente ‘ritorno sul terreno’. La ricerca, durata molti anni, comportava frequenti ritorni e un costante aggiornamento sulle vicende locali: ho vissuto in più zone del paese e le ho percorse tutte. Non vi è stato dunque un “ritorno” che si possa connotare come tale nel senso di riandare sul campo, lasciato dopo la fine della ricerca, non essendo di fatto scomparsa dall’orizzonte degli abitanti che ritrovavo e mi ritrovavano in una continuità “normale” in cui mi venivano fornite informazioni di ogni genere e risposte ad ogni mia domanda, come se fosse ovvio che dovessi essere aggiornata sulle vicende del paese.

Poi ho pensato alla presentazione dei risultati della mia ricerca come una specie di ‘ restituzione ’, avvertita da me come un dovere. Ma perché definire restituzione qualcosa che non avevo sottratto ma chiesto e ricevuto o, più spesso, costruito a più voci? Il termine stesso, emotivamente accattivante ma discusso tra gli etnografi, qui slitterebbe da oggetti rubati o terre trafugate a qualcosa di molto diverso e meno concreto: le ricerche compiute.

Un’altra serie di problemi è venuta a galla nell’organizzazione della presentazione del libro che cominciava a configurarsi come strumento del gioco politico locale. A farsi promotori dell’iniziativa sono stati per primi un giovane ambientalista e colui che era stato sindaco nel periodo di maggiore intensità della ricerca. Mentre il primo proponeva di organizzare la presentazione in varie sedi, comprese le campagne, il secondo riteneva che fosse assolutamente doveroso da parte dell’amministrazione comunale farsene carico e si muoveva reiteratamente per sollecitare questa scelta, senza ottenere alcun risultato, ma impedendo che altre soluzioni si potessero trovare. Tra questo ex-sindaco e quello in carica, come pure con tutta l’amministrazione comunale e, in particolare con l’assessore alla cultura, i rapporti erano pessimi per cui quanto proposto da lui non aveva alcuna possibilità di essere accolto. Egli, d’altro canto, insistendo, intendeva costringerli a misurarsi con la sua sponsorizzazione, fallita la quale si era ritirato. Grazie all’intervento di altri due politici, in buoni rapporti con l’assessore, l’amministrazione comunale aveva infine deciso di assumere l’iniziativa, escludendo però tutti gli altri proponenti dall’organizzazione della stessa. Non avendo trovato al loro interno chi potesse presentare il libro si erano rivolti infine a me e avevano accettato il nome da me proposto di una collega di altra zona. Non avevano previsto alcun coordinatore, malgrado vi fosse in loco un giornalista del maggior quotidiano della zona, che svolgeva di solito tale ruolo, non essendo ritenuto vicino all’amministrazione a cui aveva rivolto non poche critiche. La pubblicità dell’avvenimento è stata minima. Solo qualche giorno prima è stato stampato un volantino, distribuito a mano essenzialmente nel centro, su cui non apparivano che il titolo del volume e il luogo e l’ora della presentazione. Quindi tra i presenti vi erano solo degli assegnatari direttamente avvertiti per telefono dall’ex-sindaco proponente, abitanti del centro, alcuni esponenti dell’amministrazione in carica ma quasi nessuno di quella che più avevo seguito. Mancava anche la maggior parte degli uomini politici intervistati nel corso della lunga ricerca. Non lo sapevano, non partecipavano alle iniziative con cui non erano solidali o più semplicemente e più probabilmente non erano interessati, non avendo neppure letto il libro?

Al mio arrivo alla presentazione sono stata accolta molto calorosamente dai presenti, circa una sessantina di persone. Due di loro hanno dichiarato di essere venuti proprio per riabbracciarmi ma che non si sarebbero fermati perché si trattava di un’iniziativa dell’amministrazione con cui erano in totale disaccordo politico. Ho incontrato anche, prima di entrare, due personaggi a cui ho dedicato un capitolo del libro: un ex-sindaco, protagonista di più di un stagione politica, al centro di diverse inchieste giudiziarie e al momento interdetto dai pubblici uffici, e il parroco dell’epoca, suo fedele alleato e sponsor, da cui mi aspettavo qualche contestazione, come se le aspettavano alcuni dei presenti, avendo, oltretutto, già manifestato il sindaco in questione a qualcuno l’intenzione di protestare scrivendo al Rettore della mia università. E la contestazione c’è stata.

Non riferirò degli interventi, tre dei quali di anziani uomini politici, che non conoscevano il libro e che avevano parlato solo della riforma agraria, e di un avvocato e del giornalista che si erano espressi in termini fortemente elogiativi, come pure l’assessore e il sindaco in carica che anche loro non lo avevano letto, pur avendolo ricevuto da mesi. Mi soffermerò invece su quello del ex-sindaco più volte arrestato riferendo le sue accuse principali:

1. Il libro non aveva alcuna validità scientifica perché mancava dell’obiettività richiesta a uno studioso, essendomi io rifatta sistematicamente a fonti (libri, giornali e documenti) della mia “parte politica”.

2. Avrei riferito voci “infamanti” di anonimi, non individuabili dalle sole iniziali, sullo “specchiatissimo” parroco. Per inciso, il parroco, presente, non solo non era intervenuto, ma alla fine, prima di andar via, dopo avermi abbracciato, mi aveva regalato tre sue pubblicazioni con dedica attestante stima e simpatia.

3. Non avrei verificato di persona l’attendibilità di quanto riferito dalle fonti orali e scritte, non essendo andata a raccogliere le versioni sue e del parroco.

4. Avrei commesso un errore grave citando una società invece di un’altra nel raccontare la vicenda dello sfruttamento delle miniere di sale. Tale errore configura la probabilità di una denuncia.

Il suo intervento non era stato minimamente ripreso da quanti avevano parlato dopo di lui e gli astanti, dopo aver manifestato con i gesti e con la mimica facciale il loro disaccordo con quanto stavano ascoltando, alla fine della presentazione lo avevano commentato con scherno e con disprezzo. La mia risposta, tesa soprattutto a spiegare il senso del lavoro antropologico, aveva ricevuto molti apprezzamenti, ma non era piaciuta al principale sostenitore della manifestazione, l’ex-sindaco, suo acerrimo antagonista, perché non avevo attaccato, come avrei dovuto, vale a dire “duramente e sbattendogli in faccia tutto”, sue colpe e responsabilità. Le contestazioni aprono comunque la strada a questioni più generali.

La prima contestazione rivoltami rinvia ai problemi che si pongono nel fare ricerca su un campo sensibile quale è quello della politica senza incorrere nell’accusa di avere già idee precostituite o di essere schierati, il che rinvia a sua volta alla posizione dell’antropologo sul terreno e a quanto può essere detto e a quanto dovrebbe essere taciuto.

La seconda pone dei problemi da sempre discussi tra gli etnografi. Innanzitutto la questione del rispetto delle fonti orali che chiama a sua volta in causa la tutela degli informatori e rende pienamente responsabile il ricercatore che le riferisce. Nel mio caso non si trattava di accuse “gravi ed infamanti” e, tuttavia il problema rimane. Il dilemma è tra etica e giurisprudenza, e riguarda in particolare la legislazione sull’informazione e la comunicazione dei Paesi in cui si fa ricerca. Analogamente, rinviare a delle fonti scritte quali, per esempio, nel caso in questione, le citazioni da libri e articoli di giornali sulle vicende giudiziarie del mio accusatore, può configurare la possibilità di una denuncia?

La terza riguarda il problema della ‘verità’. Nel caso di ricerca sulla politica diventa un enjeu ambiguo, scivoloso e, in qualche modo ineludibile da parte degli informatori che, immessi in un campo di forze contrapposte, richiedono che il ricercatore assuma le loro verità perché su queste si possono fondare carriere e reputazioni (e questo non riguarda solo la politica, come dimostra, in questo caso, il riferimento al parroco).

La quarta, la minaccia di una denuncia, è un problema aggravato dall’uso delle informazioni, difficilmente controllabili, offerte dall’internet, che consente ai soggetti delle nostre ricerche non solo di prendere visione dei nostri lavori, ma anche delle recensioni, delle presentazioni e delle cronache che ne fa la stampa. Come si vede, il tentativo di essere ‘accountable’ alla comunità studiata si rivela tutt’altro che facile.

Quaderno poetico #1: Our man Bigongiari

Mon, 19 Aug 2013 12:38:00 GMT

This will not be so much “writing about writing” as a reflection on Bigongiari as a subject and as a presence: someone whose poems I read alongside his diaries and letters, whose voice I hear in recordings, whose loose and sometimes messy handwriting I have learned to decipher, and whose quirks and habits of mind are now very familiar to me, but who is not actually there. Few book subjects are, but there is still a feeling that they keep you company. How do you make your figure of interest seem real on the page? Bigongiari’s work may seem out-of-the-way, strange or difficult, but what are its real merits? What can it mean to us today? What is Bigongiari’s relationship to other poets of the last century, and what light do they shed on one another? And how, sometimes, do you manage to look away from those eyes that are following you all the time, and put your own opinion freely on the page?

The truth is that even though Bigongiari might not be a household name, he has not been ignored. He published more than a dozen books of verse and many more works of criticism and prose; he was well known as an art critic and had a distinguished career as a professor of literature in Florence; he travelled widely, lecturing and serving on literary prize judging panels in Europe and the USA. He is still remembered in Florence and some works of his are set texts at the university there; even booksellers and antique-dealers remember him as a devoted customer. He is read in France and the USA, too; doctoral theses on his work appear from time to time. In Italian there is a good deal of interesting commentary, often written by people who knew Bigongiari and understood well his motives for writing. Perhaps there is not as much commentary as surrounds Montale, for instance, or Calvino, but that is the beauty of it: there is still plenty to say. The original writing is full of potential; there is plenty of space for new ideas and it is possible to get discussion in English going on a clear path, from basic principles that truly serve Bigongiari’s work rather than imposing criteria on it. And, above all, there is the archive, which is vast. Bigongiari’s manuscripts, letters, diaries and notes, like those of his contemporaries, are now open to research, making it possible to interpret how the meanings of the published texts came into being.

All kinds of research projects start from a fascination for a person or a piece of history – from a pair of eyes, or several pairs of eyes, following you around. This diary comes out of just one story of what happens when you return that gaze and get to know the figure looking at you. I hope readers may respond with stories of their own. Surprises may lie ahead.

A midsummer night’s dream

Thu, 08 Aug 2013 09:17:00 GMT

The Visible Earth (NASA)

‘[A] diversity of ways of life which are deeply embedded in the past and of which the much-advertised political differences are but the outward and visible sign. That was the true anarchy that beset the country … it was not primarily an anarchy of violence in the streets, of contempt for law and order such as to make the [country] ungovernable. It was rather an anarchy of the mind and in the heart, an anarchy which .. sprang from the collision .. of seemingly irreconcilable cultures, unable to live together or to live apart, caught inextricably in the web of their tragic history’. That sounds like a perceptive description of some of the roots of political and social conflict in modern Italy, that country of ‘passionate intensity and fragile structures’ as Aldo Moro described it in his last speech.

Perhaps it does but it isn’t. It’s a (lightly edited) quotation from F.S.L.Lyons’ classic analysis of Irish life, Culture and Anarchy in Ireland (1890-1939 ). Coming across it recently in Roy Foster’s account of the making of his Ford Lectures in 2012 made me think how much interesting and imaginative comparative work on Italy can be done. The introverted default position, in the mass media and in the academy, seems to be that the country is by historical and political definition an anomaly, uniquely engaged in perpetual but unconvinced and unavailing efforts to become ‘normal’. But any country is of course anomalous by comparison with somewhere else – selective choice of comparators, from Albania to Zimbabwe, can make anywhere look either pretty odd or utterly normal.

Take politics. Berlusconi might look anomalous with regard to contemporary western European leaders, even if to encounter leaders who share much of his approach to the relations between law and politics and between friend and foe we don’t have to go far back in time before we meet Mussolini, Franco and Salazar, or travel far to the east today before Lukashenko, Orban and Putin greet us. His techniques for gaining and retaining power would also look perfectly normal to, say, the Big Men of Pacific politics. Building up a following by gifts and exchanges, rewarding loyal acolytes, detaching men from opposing groups, persuading through the power of oratory (sc. relentless deployment of press and tv) – all this would be entirely familiar to successful and renowned leaders across the Pacific, although they would rightly regard Berlusconi’s oratorical abilities as far inferior to their own. (Berlusconi is surely closer in style to Liberace – watch Soderbergh’s Behind the Candelabra – than to anyone with pretensions to serious political leadership. Including politics among the means used to protect la roba is something different). The clash of frames of reference produces creativity, wit and discovery. So – here’s where that dream kicks in – why not increase our small stock of far-flung comparisons, complement the valuable but limited measuring of statistical differences between Italy and other EU states on welfare expenditure, employment rates, public opinion and so on, and see what the help of unfamiliar and hitherto untested guides can reveal to us about the culture and society of il Belpaese ?

Visit by Michael Wyatt to New Zealand and Australia: 10 Aug – 3 Oct 2013

Sun, 04 Aug 2013 10:53:00 GMT

Between August and October one of our inaugural Honorary Research Associates, Michael Wyatt , will be visiting universities in New Zealand and Australia to give lectures and seminars on a range of Renaissance topics (he is the General Editor of the forthcoming Cambridge Companion to the Italian Renaissance ) as well as issues in the general field of cultural translation. When he is in New Zealand (10 – 24 August), he will be visiting Auckland and Otago. In Australia (24 Aug – 3 Oct) he will be based at the University of Melbourne and will also be giving talks at UQ, USQ, Newcastle, Sydney and Flinders. We will be putting up here the details of his visits and the topics he will be addressing so as to facilitate attendance. For further information contact Andrea Rizzi .

Rome’s Casa delle Traduzioni

Thu, 25 Jul 2013 10:34:00 GMT

The Casa was established in mid-2011 and is part of Rome’s network of libraries . Its growing collection includes publications in the field of Translation Studies, particularly the theory and practice of literary translation, as well as translations of Italian literary texts into numerous languages. There is a sizeable collection of translations of the novels of Elsa Morante, as well as a range of contemporary Italian fiction in English put out by Europa Editions, the New York arm of Edizioni e/o. The public events program includes workshops and training seminars for aspiring translators, talks by literary translators, and screenings of translation-themed films.

More information about the collection, the facilities, and the application process for visiting translators, is available on the Casa delle Traduzioni website.

Proxy brides and promised lands

Thu, 25 Jul 2013 06:53:00 GMT

As long-time friends, full-time actors and now first-time filmmakers, Andrea Demetriades and I, together with the producers Leonie Rothwell and Annmaree Bell, became deeply intrigued by these women and their stories. So, supported by the 2013 MetroScreen First Breaks program, we decided to make a film to which we have given the title Latte e Miele to explore their experiences. It follows the journey of two sisters, Sofia and Liliana, who arrive in a rural town of New South Wales in 1953. They have travelled from their hometown of Naples in search of a new life in a country that is labelled ‘the new America’. Here they are welcomed by their husbands Federico and Umberto whom they have married by proxy but have never met. With only photographs of the two men to guide them into this union and the promise of a better life in the lucky country of milk and honey, the women leave their war-ravaged home in this leap of faith. What transpires is a night of chaos, courage, love and display of the sisterhood which brings women power and achievement.

Shooting of the film is about to begin, with screening envisaged for December this year. Our aim is to enter the film into A-list domestic and international film festivals such as Berlin, Cannes and Sundance so as to be able to present the stories of these courageous women to the widest possible audiences. Further details of our project, which also contain information on how to support the making of the film, can be found here .

Nasce l’Archivio degli iblei

Tue, 23 Jul 2013 08:32:00 GMT

E’ online il portale dell’ Archivio degli Iblei . Gli Iblei comprendono i paesi del sud-est della Sicilia fra il ragusano e il siracusano, e l’iniziativa dell’archivio online è nata all’interno del Progetto Terramatta , il cui primo prodotto è stato il film documentario Terramatta; Il Novecento italiano di Vincenzo Rabito analfabeta siciliano . Il film, tratto dal libro quasi omonimo del chiaramontano Vincenzo Rabito (Einaudi, 2007), è stato presentato nella scorsa edizione della Mostra internazionale del cinema di Venezia e ha ricevuto numerosi riconoscimenti, tra cui il Nastro d’Argento 2013 come miglior documentario italiano dell’anno. Lo si potrà vedere a Melbourne il prossimo 3 dicembre in una serata organizzata dall’Istituto italiano di cultura e ad Adelaide nell’ambito del Convegno ACIS, dove Terramatta sarà anche tema di un panel.

Configurato come un progetto di Cliomedia Officina e lanciato al convegno svoltosi a Chiaramonte Gulfi il 23 marzo 2013, l’Archivio degli Iblei raccoglie testimonianze orali, centinaia di documenti iconografici, testi di ricerca e documenti. A tutti i contenuti del portale si può avere accesso anche attraverso vari percorsi tematici che riguardano sia aspetti della vita quotidiana, come l’alimentazione, la salute e i consumi, i rapporti di genere e i lavori domestici, sia eventi che hanno segnato la storia del Novecento, come le guerre mondiali o l’avvento del fascismo, sia, infine, di storia sociale come l’istruzione, la religione, il lavoro nelle sue varie forme e la politica. Racconti “particolari” per temi niente affatto “locali”, spunti per approfondimenti sulla storia italiana del secolo scorso, segnato da così grandi trasformazioni.

La raccolta di testimonianze orali è per il momento uno degli aspetti più qualificanti. Fra gli intervistati contadini e casalinghe, minatori e professori, uomini di chiesa e militanti antagonisti, medici e onorevoli, anziani e giovani. Accanto alle testimonianze che si riferiscono alle esperienze personali, considerabili come fonti orali, gli interventi di intellettuali e studiosi offrono spunti di riflessione per la comprensione del secolo scorso. Nei ricordi dei più anziani una vita quotidiana oggi di difficile immaginazione, segnata da privazioni e povertà, poca scuola e molto lavoro, tanti desideri inappagati esauditi poi negli anni di maggior benessere e nella mobilità sociale dei figli. I video sono pubblicati oltre che sul sito dell’Archivio degli Iblei anche su Memoro , la Banca della Memoria che ha ramificazioni in tutto il mondo.

L’invito è a collaborare e partecipare anche condividendo ricerche edite o inedite oltre che con suggerimenti o critiche. Fra gli obiettivi, oltre alla valorizzazione del patrimonio storico degli Iblei, c’è anche quello di creare una rete di studiosi non confinata negli angusti ambiti locali, valorizzando i risultati delle tante ricerche, anche di qualità e spesso introvabili, in un dialogo aperto con una comunità di storici e studiosi più ampia. Il progetto, che vive soprattutto ma non esclusivamente online con contenuti digitali, vuole essere nel segno della lotta contro l’impoverimento culturale e il degrado, rischi niente affatto retorici e ancora più gravi nelle aree marginali e periferiche del paese. Iscrivendosi al gruppo su Facebook si potrà essere sempre informati delle nuove iniziative e nello stesso tempo si potrà offrire un contributo al confronto delle idee e allo sviluppo del progetto.

Parents, children and responsibility in Italy

Fri, 19 Jul 2013 08:32:00 GMT

“la mamma mi sgrida soprattutto quando lei parla al telefono e io continuo a chiamarla” (bambino di 5 anni)

How do Italians understand their role as parents? What kinds of values do they seek to inculcate in their children? I devised a research project to try to address these questions, making the concept of ‘parental responsibility’ my key focus. I wanted to explore how important the term was to parents today and how far they tried to make their children aware of their own responsibilities (and what kind they were). I used the town of Cremona as a case-study, interviewing kindergarten teachers and parents with children under six years old, and analysing more than a thousand drawings by young children of family life situations.

My main conclusion is that the notions of individual and social responsibility have largely disappeared from the explicit vocabulary used to educate children, despite the fact that for my generation, growing up in the 1970s, the call for responsibility was largely diffused in both formal and informal contexts. Nowadays, parents and educators are either unfamiliar or uncomfortable with the term “responsibility”. They believe it is not an appropriate term to try to teach children (“una parola troppo grossa”, “un’affermazione pesante”); they prefer to see their educational role in terms of instilling competence and skills, encouraging profitable performance and well-being.

Indeed competence is almost seen as in opposition to responsibility, indicating a strong preference for individual advantage rather than collective orientation. As this mother (age 42, university education, white-collar worker, Catholic, separated, with three children aged 13, 11 and 5) responds to a question about whether her youngest child could be called ‘responsible’:

oddio responsabile mi sembra una cosa un po’ grande… autonomo… questo sì… autonomo, abbastanza indipendente… le sue cose le fa… poi sì… cioè un bambino di cinque anni può essere responsabile? Le chiedo… non so (tono risentito) …io credo che sia un’affermazione molto pesante questa… io non penso che un bambino di cinque anni può essere responsabile, può essere competente, non responsabile

Children are required to learn, to expand their range of experience and, if possible, to be happy; they are not directed towards the importance of answering for their own actions and the consequences of those actions in social contexts nor are they taught firmly to respect the rules of the community .

In my forthcoming book on the topic ( Etnografia della responsabilità educativa , Archetipo, Bologna, 2013), I analyse the disconnection between competence and responsibility in the Italian process of primary socialization and education and point out the effects of this split in social interaction.

“ho disegnato quando gioco con il papà sul lettone e sotto c’è il computer: il papà lo tiene sempre lì” (bambino di 5 anni)

For example, it is particularly interesting to note how the stories of parents and educators underline how important it is to teach children to be able to defend themselves or to excel (“imparare a ridargliele”; “essere furbi”; “arrivare primi”, “vincere”) rather than to promote empathy and demand the respect of community rules. Moreover, educators find it difficult to hold someone responsible for events taking place in a kindergarten classroom like biting or beating and they use an inappropriate language: the children are not responsible (“troppo piccoli”); their parents cannot be held responsible (“non possiamo certo dare la colpa di quello che fanno i piccoli ai loro genitori”), but, surprisingly , even educators do not consider themselves as responsible (“non sono certo io ad avergli insegnato queste cose”). What if the diffusion of the notion of everybody’s and nobody’s responsibility, so typical of contemporary Italian society, deriving from this very early stage of socialization, establishes a social and emotional path from which it is very difficult subsequently to deviate?

Fabrizio De André, popular intellectual

Wed, 17 Jul 2013 09:34:00 GMT

In my research I address the issue of De André’s long-lasting and posthumous popularity. His popularity is extraordinary within the Italian musical scene, surpassing that of other singer-songwriters with comparable compositional and songwriting abilities. I believe he has become the cultural hero he is for a series of complex reasons – biographical, social, historical and cultural – that allowed him to surpass his singer-songwriting peers and fulfill the role of the intellectual active in social criticism and engaged in public debate. In particular I argue that De André was a popular intellectual. This definition is not a substitute for public intellectual, which I argue is a pleonasm, since an intellectual must address an audience, must go public, in order to be considered an intellectual. The definition of a popular intellectual refers to a specific category of intellectual to which De André belongs. In this definition, the word “popular” refers to celebrity, to the significance of audience participation, and to popular culture. De André’s social criticism, which he carried out both in his oeuvre and in interviews, allowed him to leave a unique legacy. Thanks to his activity as a singer-songwriter, De André’s challenging stances reached a large proportion of the Italian population, enabling him to contribute to the continuous process of the demolition and reshaping of Italian identity and culture over a period of more than thirty years.

Fabrizio De André
Foto: Guido Harari

The Fondazione Fabrizio De André has played a key role in keeping the singer-songwriter strongly alive in the contemporary imagination. Established in 2001, the Fondazione is a non-profit organization that, as its statute states, operates to allow and promote the study of the oeuvre and writings of Fabrizio De André, to disseminate his ideas and works, to help improve and promote Genoa’s old city centre and other Mediterranean towns, and to promote cultural, artistic, and welfare initiatives to help the disadvantaged. In 2004, the Fondazione, together with the Università degli Studi di Siena, created the Centro Studi Fabrizio De André , which preserves De André’s manuscripts and (partial) library and makes them available to scholars. The Centro Studi also organizes cultural events such as conferences and seminars.

Translating crime fiction with Carlo Lucarelli

Fri, 12 Jul 2013 20:39:00 GMT

Carlo Lucarelli chats with some of the Winter School participants

At the end of June a group of group of translators, scholars, and students of translation had the opportunity to meet and work with renowned giallista Carlo Lucarelli as part of Murder and Mayhem in Translation , a literary translation winter school hosted by Monash University. The theme of the Winter School was crime fiction, and who better to walk (and talk) us through the many challenges and delights of this genre, and its translation, than Lucarelli, creator of Commissario De Luca, Ispettore Coliandro, and Ispettore Grazia De Negro, and host of the television series Blu notte , in which he investigates and narrates the real-life crimes, plots and conspiracies of contemporary Italy.

I was lucky enough to be invited to lead the workshop alongside Lucarelli, who was visiting Australia for the first time. Our team of around a dozen workshop participants spent four days discussing crime fiction and translating an excerpt from ‘Falange armata’, one of the Ispettore Coliandro stories.

Carlo began by talking to us about his commitment to crime fiction, and the ways in which he and a number of like-minded Italian authors use the precision and realism of this genre to shed light on important social and political issues in Italy. He described his aim as to keep his readers awake three nights in a row: the first night because they want to get to the end of the story; the second night because they’re tormented by the question, ‘Ma davvero succedono queste cose?’; and the third night because they lie awake asking themselves, ‘ Cosa posso fare? ’ Unfortunately, he believes Italian audiences are still stuck on the second night…

Translators hard at work

But back to our team of translators. One of our first challenges was the protagonist, Ispettore Coliandro, an incompetent, sexist, racist, homophobic cop who somehow still manages to be quite likeable, thanks largely to the irony in the writing. Carlo explained to us that every time his character says or does something inappropriate or stupid he is ‘punished’ by the author – made to look foolish or shown up for the bigot he is. Achieving this ironic balance in English translation was tricky. We had to avoid any censorship of Coliandro’s prejudices, and at the same time preserve his likeability. Deep down, Coliandro’s not a bad fellow, more ignorant than nasty, ‘onesto ma perdente’ as Carlo put it, and we didn’t want our translation to shift that balance. This meant finding the right kinds of swearwords in (Australian) English to match Coliandro’s particular variety of Italian, with its bestemmie , racial epithets, meridionalismi and gergo poliziesco .

Other challenges were posed by the language of the giallo – police forces and ranks, firearms, the law – and Carlo, who has spent many days and nights in questure and commissariati , learning their inner workings and acquiring their vocabulary, provided a wealth of information when his team of translators were in doubt.

A sense of place is central to almost all crime fiction, and Lucarelli’s work is no exception. Bologna plays a key role in his work, and it was a delight to have Carlo bring the city to life for us, both through his writing and in conversation. The workshop participants were unanimous in observing that translating with the author on hand for clarification is a great privilege. For his part, Carlo came out of the experience with a renewed appreciation for the work of translators – ‘hanno in mano la vita e la morte dell’autore in un paese straniero’.

Small group work proved especially rewarding

On the last day of the Winter School, the participants presented their completed translation and elucidated some of the difficulties they had had to tackle during the translation process. While group translation is not perhaps the speediest variety, the results were truly excellent. The finished product, a consensus translation of an excerpt that posed all the challenges described above and many more, was greatly enriched by the wide range of expertise of its many translators, with their ears for the idiomatic, their eyes for detail, and their wide-ranging cultural, linguistic and educational backgrounds.

Spanish and French workshop groups also presented translations and all three will appear next year, along with a number of essays on the topic of crime fiction and translation, in a volume edited by Leah Gerber and Rita Wilson. In the meantime, you might be interested in listening to this interview with Carlo Lucarelli on SBS Radio.

The next Literary Translation Winter School will be held in 2015.

Franca Rame. Non e’ tempo di nostalgia

Thu, 11 Jul 2013 07:51:00 GMT

Nel mio caso, poi, il tarlo era particolarmente “fortunato” in quanto nessuno all’epoca si sarebbe aspettato che l’anno dopo il premio Nobel per la letteratura sarebbe meritatamente andato proprio a Dario Fo, che lo ha dedicato a Franca Rame per poterlo condividere con lei.

Quando viene conferito un simile onore in accademia si passa dallo status di “minore” a “maggiore”, quindi indirettamente si aprono porte anche ai ricercatori affetti da un si lungimirante tarlo. Il “bencapitato” vede il suo lavoro arrivare quindi su scrivanie impensate, sottoposto ad uno scrutinio per il quale non era in fondo pensato, e si trova catapultato prima ad intervistare e poi a spezzare il pane con le persone sul cui lavoro, fino a ieri, aveva solo versato inchiostro. La distanza – da sempre solo fisica – si chiude. Già, perché la scelta del tarlo non è mai veramente casuale. Il nostro interesse naturalmente poggia dove esiste una qualche risonanza tra noi e la materia trattata o la persona prescelta, che sia di comuni esperienze, principi o credenze. Se le circostanze lo permettono cresce un legame che travalica generazioni, circostanze personali e geografiche.

Ecco, dopo tanti anni, ho trovato una ragione valida per la quale forse non avrei dovuto continuare nelle mie ricerche: i legami sono spesso destinati a spezzarsi, con il dolore che questo comporta.

Franca Rame ci ha lasciato da poco più di un mese e Dario Fo al suo funerale laico ha condiviso con gli astanti un monologo inedito scritto da sua moglie sulla scelta che Adamo ed Eva – in realtà Eva, come ben sappiamo – han fatto a suo tempo nel paradiso terrestre e che recita così:

Per quanto mi riguarda, Padre, io ho già deciso… Io seguo il secondo albero, quello delle mele. Se devo essere sincera io non… – Dio, non offenderti – a me, dell’eternità non mi interessa più di tanto. Invece, l’idea di conoscere, sapere, avere dubbi mi gusta assai! Non parliamo poi del fatto di potermi abbracciare a questo maschio che mi hai regalato. Mi piace! Da subito ho sentito il suo richiamo e mi è venuto un gran desiderio di… cingermi… – cingermi… che bella parola che ho scoperto! – cingermi con lui e farci, come si dice, l’amore… farci l’amore. So già che questo amplesso sarà la fine del mondo! Ti dirò che appresso, il fatto che mi toccherà morire, davanti a tutto quello che ci offri in cambio, la possibilità di scoprire e conoscere vivendo.. beh, mi va bene anche quello. Pur di aver conoscenza, coscienza, dubbi e provare amore ben venga anche la morte.

Se questa citazione vi incuriosisce, vi invito a leggere Franca Rame. Non è tempo di nostalgia di Joe Farrell, il mio mentore scozzese, che ha avuto l’occasione di parlare con Franca a febbraio e raccoglierne le memorie in un bel libro uscito proprio ieri – ne ho letto le bozze, fidatevi.

Lucrezia Marinella’s ‘Essortationi alle donne et a gli altri’: construction of an early modern self

Sun, 30 Jun 2013 10:19:00 GMT

The Essortationi situates itself as a conduct book concerning matters relating to the family and the household. At its heart are questions relating to women’s capacities and roles in both the domestic and public spheres. The proliferation in the Renaissance of conduct literature reflects an increasing consciousness of the malleability of identity, of the capacity for one’s identity to be ‘fashioned.’ Renaissance conduct literature is predicated on the notion that individuals can be produced. Marinella’s Essortationi thus participates in a long tradition of literature which sought to exert influence over the shaping of Renaissance selves. As a female-authored contribution to this male-dominated genre, Marinella’s text disrupts the traditional one-way process of patriarchal construction of women’s identities. Marinella demonstrates her capacity to be the ‘shaper’ rather than the ‘shaped.’

LUCREZIA MARINELLA (1571-1653)

However the Essortationi is also a contradictory and ambiguous text which resists straightforward interpretation. Marinella ostensibly advises her (primarily) women readers to practise seclusion and silence, modesty in dress and ornamentation, and to reject learning and literature in favour of domestic pursuits. Yet alongside this advice are arguments to do the contrary. I argue that the contradiction and equivocation in the Essortationi serves three main purposes. First, it serves to obliquely undermine the misogynistic commonplaces and dogma Marinella ostensibly promotes. In doing so, she challenges the patriarchal underpinnings of discourses on the ‘fashioning’ of women’s identities. Second, this characteristic of the text makes it impossible for the reader simply to heed the author’s advice and follow her prescriptions. Instead, Marinella invites her female readers to engage with the contradictory advice she presents and decide for themselves, to reclaim greater agency and independence in the construction of their identities. Third, in advising one thing before advising the opposite, Marinella constructs a multifaceted authorial persona which resists definition. The equivocation in her self-representation reflects a concerted effort to resist being defined and to exercise her capacity to fashion, indeed fabricate, her own identity.

In the literary and academic milieu within which Marinella wrote her Essortationi in mid-Seicento Venice, duplicitous discourses and authorial equivocation abound. Research conducted in the Biblioteca Marciana in Venice and the Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale di Firenze (thanks to a Cassamarca Scholarship) enabled me to get a sense for this particular literary trend, particularly as it appeared in works associated with the Accademia degli Incogniti – an academy with which Marinella had some affiliation. I argue that Marinella’s engagement in the Essortationi with this literary trend suggests that, like her male contemporaries, the letterata was interested in experimenting with the relationship between discourse and identity and the potential for discourse to facilitate the construction/fabrication of varied and multifaceted identities.

At a time when women were still considered by many as inanimate, inert, incapable of thought and requiring of ‘shaping’ by men – sentiments heavily represented in conduct literature of the period – Marinella’s engagement with questions of identity and self-fashioning in her writing is inherently a political act. I believe that the Essortationi reflect her life-long commitment to using discourse as a locus and means for the contestation of prescribed gender identities – an early modern woman making use of the pen to challenge the sword of the patriarchal status quo.

International Crime Fiction Conference in Galway/2

Wed, 26 Jun 2013 06:59:00 GMT

At the “Gender and Sexuality in the Crime Genre” conference just finished in Galway, I attended a very interesting keynote address by Lisa Downing (University of Birmingham) entitled “Romancing the Cannibal: Genre and Gender Trouble in Thomas Harris’s “Hannibal” (1999). In her speech, Downing describes the character of Hannibal the Cannibal as “the poster-boy” of the exceptional murder and the most celebrated fictional serial killer. According to this scholar, in a “postmodern decadent text” Hannibal embodies the “consumer habits of late capitalism”. She also highlights an evolution in the character from previous novels of the series and comments on the reaction of the readers to a more humanized Hannibal.

Downing’s analysis of Harris’s novels is part of a research she has conducted for several years that has culminated in the publication of “The Subject of Murder. Gender, Exceptionality, and the Modern Killer” published by University of Chicago Press. In her volume she problematizes our view of serial killers, often perceived either as degenerate beasts or supermen. After the success of Giorgio Faletti’s “Io uccido” and the publication of the new Grazia Negro’s adventure by Carlo Lucarelli featuring a serial killer, I believe this is a vital book for the analysis of the genre in Italy. Are fictional serial killers in the Italian tradition like beasts? Are they supermen? Is there an Italian way to this sub-genre? I would say that at least in the case with Pitbull, the serial killer in Lucarelli’s “Un giorno dopo l’altro”, the Italian sub-genre also points to the banality of serial crime. Do you agree?

Women, terrorism and trauma in Italian culture

Wed, 26 Jun 2013 06:50:00 GMT

Margherita Cagol

The particular coincidence of cultural and historical factors led me to direct my research efforts in the field towards cultural representations of women’s participation in terrorism, from the period known as the anni di piombo (‘years of lead’, c. 1969-83) to the present. As I would soon discover, Nadia Lioce was far from an exception in the gender profile of political militancy in Italy, where women made up 20% of both the membership and leadership of left-wing organizations (participation in right-wing groups was much lower). The earliest known female terrorist, Margherita Cagol – a founding member of the notorious Red Brigades and the first of their number to be killed in action in 1975 – had attained the status of popular icon or cult figure, admired, romanticized and mourned by a certain section of the left-wing public. Then, in the 1990s, a number of female former members of terrorist organizations – among them Adriana Faranda, Barbara Balzerani and Susanna Ronconi on the political left, and Francesca Mambro on the right – had come to prominence in the public sphere, recounting their experience of political violence on television shows and in a series of memoirs and other publications dedicated to the events and legacy of the anni di piombo .

While the number of women involved in terrorism in Italy is considered to be high, relative to other cultural contexts, it is nonetheless the case that both individual women and the female component of terrorist organizations as a whole have been disproportionately subject to intense public debate, media scrutiny and cultural representation in Italy. Moreover, whether vilified, belittled or spectacularized, women’s involvement in acts of political aggression has been portrayed very differently to that of men, and subjected to far more anxious – and often idiosyncratic – attempts to explain it. In a bid to understand fully why that should be the case, I found myself exploring the intersection between trauma theory and gender studies. I had already concluded from my study of the broader field that Italian culture had developed in relation to the experience of political violence in the anni di piombo a defensive amnesia symptomatic of collective trauma. Now, focusing quite specifically on cultural representations of women’s involvement in acts of political aggression, I came to formulate the thesis that women’s contribution to the political violence of the anni di piombo is articulated in Italian culture as a form of psychic ‘double wound’.

In elaborating that thesis, I was indebted to Sergio Lenci’s articulation of the extreme distress generated by the presence of a woman in the group of terrorists who shot him at close range. In his memoir, Colpo alla nuca (1988) – a unique account by the survivor of a terrorist attack intended to kill – Lenci effectively ignores the man who shot and wounded him in favour of detailed exploration of the psychological effects of a woman’s involvement in the attack on his life. I found his declaration that ‘a woman wounds you twice with respect to a man’ encapsulated and articulated perfectly the overt and disproportionate anxiety associated with female perpetration in Italian culture; it thus provided both the starting point and the premise for the trauma studies approach to my exploration of cultural representations of women and terrorism in Italy. I was further aided in my efforts by Hilary Neroni’s work on cinematic representations of The Violent Woman (2005); as Neroni observes, masculinity is defined in the cultural imaginary primarily through violence, while femininity is defined in relation to vulnerability and an associated need for male protection. The figure of the violent woman exposes and undermines the ideological fantasy of male/female complementarity, and it is in that disruption to the social order that the culturally traumatic significance of female violence lies.

Building on that position, I developed as the central thesis of my book, Women, Terrorism and Trauma in Italian Culture (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013) the proposition that Italian culture consistently construes women’s involvement in acts of political aggression as an intensification or augmentation of the psychological and cultural threat already posed by domestic terrorism, and I set out to explore the diverse ways in which cultural products could be read as symptomatic of the collective and cultural trauma associated with female gendered violence. I discovered that an antithetical understanding of the relationship between women and violence surfaced in almost every single text studied; it featured across all media, from press representations of the 1970s to those of the 2000s, and from the narratives of former terrorists to literature and films centred on the victims of Italian terrorism. Applying Neroni’s understanding to the Italian case, I saw that, in a bid to counter the traumatic disruption of the female terrorist, cultural production addressing the anni di piombo displayed a (sometimes hysterical) tendency to exaggerate or pathologize women’s participation in political violence. This was perhaps best exemplified by those texts that present violence as the preserve of mad or bad women (in the cinema of pentitismo in the 1980s , for instance) or that deploy a subverted love story to tell a cautionary tale, in which women who participate in political violence are subject to enduring social and cultural penalties that forever prohibit their re-incorporation into the feminine norm. Such modes of representation may be interpreted as cultural defence mechanisms that underline the trauma of the female terrorist and the power she exerts on the cultural imaginary.

Given the on-going relevance of gender inequality in Italian society, the topic of women, terrorism and trauma remains a pertinent one for scholars of contemporary Italian culture, speaking as it does to issues that extend far beyond the confines of the legacy of political violence and into the everyday terrain of the cultural mediation of gender relations, social anxieties and collective psychology.

Crime Fiction Conference in Galway/1

Mon, 24 Jun 2013 18:15:00 GMT

I have just come back from Galway where I attended the international crime fiction conference “Gender and Sexuality in the Crime Genre”. Organized by Kate Quinn (University of Galway) and Marieke Krajenbrink (University of Limerick), the conference hosted a great number of interesting papers from scholars coming from Europe, the USA, Australia, India, Kuwait, Russia and Taiwan. The conference also hosted two keynote addresses, one by Andrew Pepper (Queen’s University, Belfast) and the other by Lisa Downing (University of Birmingham). In this post I will talk about Pepper’s presentation, while a subsequent post will be devoted to Downing’s speech.

Pepper, who is also a crime novelist, made an inspiring presentation entitled “Appropriating the Nineenteenth Century: The New Economy of Work and Sex in Crime Fiction”. Analyzing the book “The Crimson Petal and the White” by Michel Faber using a Marxist and Foucaltian perspective, he argued that some contemporary crime novelists appropriated the Victoria era in order to comment upon the “criminal aspect of production”. According to Pepper, by concentrating only on the criminal nature of money, crime novelists of the nineteenth century had overlooked this correlation. Therefore, some contemporary crime novelists had the merit to step in and “cover the gaps” left unfulfilled by the genre. While he did not explicitly talk about his own novels, it is clear that Pepper’s Pyke series set in the 1840s has this ambition. While listening to this speech, I also thought that the issues of globalisation and the recent worldwide financial and economic crisis may have inspired some historical crime writers to return to the origins of capitalism in the Western world. Likewise, in Italian crime fiction, the rise of the Northern League inspired several authors, such as Loriano Macchiavelli and Marcello Fois, to set their stories in the Risorgimento. The revisionist discourse on Fascism also inspired Lucarelli and other writers to set their crime stories during the Ventennio. Clearly, the pattern that, according to Browne, Kreiser and Winks (2000) and Claudio Milanesi (2006), allows crime authors to reflect upon the present through past events still works in these troubled times.

Life studies? Italian art in Australia

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 20:09:00 GMT

Did Italian artworks, now to be seen in many galleries across Australia, play any part in creating a sense of identity for Italians here? Should those Italian artists whose works became available to Australian eyes be considered among the earliest Italian immigrants?

G.B.Tiepolo, The Banquet of Cleopatra (1744)

Such questions about the social role of Italian art in Australia have not yet been formulated in quite this way. The role of art galleries and museums in wider projects of moral education and the rituals of citizenship elsewhere is well-known, especially in the wake of the opening-up of royal and private collections to the public gaze in the 18th and 19th centuries. The Louvre, to which the public was originally given free access three days a week, opened in 1793 as a contribution to the cultural dimension of the French Revolution. Earlier in the century the Medici collection in Florence had been opened to the public in 1765 (previously it had only been accessible by visitors on request) some thirty years after the last member of the Medici family, Anna Maria Luisa, had signed an agreement that nothing from her art collection, which she had inherited from her brother in 1737, would be removed from Florence and would remain the property of the Tuscan state. Such examples were followed elsewhere in Europe and overseas where galleries and museum were created in order to display and conserve the artistic achievements of the new nation-states. The association of art with social and moral improvement gives the artists themselves an involuntary but notable personal role in these tasks, almost as if they were personally present to encourage the goals that later governments foisted upon them.

The first public art gallery in Australia opened on 24 May 1861 in Melbourne, once called the Museum of Art, today the National Gallery of Victoria, and now contains the highest number of Italian artworks across Australia. We owe this fact to the cataloguing work carried out almost twenty-five years ago by Peter Tomory and Robert Gaston, who compiled the first inventory of European paintings before 1800 in Australian and New Zealand public collections (1989), and by Ursula Hoff, who wrote a further catalogue of European painting and sculpture before 1800 (1973/1995), providing extensive information which is probably still valid. Their research encourages us to wonder how Italian artworks might have created sentiments of attachment to a city among Italians. If they did have this impact, then shouldn’t we see the artists as virtual inhabitants of Australia, with an important role and substantial presence in the new, increasingly multicultural, social order?

To explore these possibilities it would perhaps be worth taking a specific illustration. Giovanni Battista Tiepolo’s Banquet of Cleopatra is a highlight, along with Annibale Carracci’s Holy Family , in the National Gallery of Victoria’s internationally-renowned collection acquired through the Felton Bequest, established in 1904 from the estate of the entrepreneur, art collector and philanthropist, Alfred Felton . The Banquet of Cleopatra surely has to be considered the work par excellence which represents not just the passion for beautiful things but the ability to take risks without looking too closely at the possible consequences (Cleopatra drops one of her priceless pearls in a glass of vinegar and drinks it in order to win a bet with Mark Antony that she could stage a more lavish feast than him). Is it too much to suggest that, apart from evoking similar feelings in the viewer, the presence of such pictures in Australian galleries has provided a reminder for Italian immigrants of the achievements of the culture they had left behind, a parallel for the risks they had taken in leaving Italy, and the satisfaction of knowing how highly valued those achievements were in Australia? And might Tiepolo’s own exhausting work schedule, his movements around the 18th century courts of Europe, and his concern to advance the prospects of his son and well-being of his family, be taken as a high-cultural model anticipating the lives of many anonymous Italian migrants?

Are current contexts of language contact changing Italian?

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 07:14:00 GMT

The Italian language played a central role at the Salone del Libro in Turin this year. Francesco Sabatini (Accademia della Crusca) was present and highlighted the contribution that the contact between Italian and other languages is engendering. He touched on the vitality that stems from the literature in Italian produced by writers who have experienced multilingual environments. He also outlined some emerging themes in current linguistic research in Italy. In particular, collocations – the regular juxtaposition of a particular word with other particular words – have been afforded increasing space in academic enquiry, especially in relation to their relevance for second language acquisition. In addition, new studies on linguistic purism and censorious attitudes towards perceived ungrammaticality have emerged in recent years.

You can find more on hybridisation and language contact in this report summarising the presentations at the Salone.

Los Angeles: Gardens at the Getty

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 08:46:00 GMT

The incredible thing about the Getty is its ability to consistently produce new and exciting temporary shows of outstanding quality every two or three months. I just got back from an excellent exhibition at the Getty Museum on ‘ Gardens in the Renaissance ‘, May 28 – August 11, 2013.

Jean Bourdichon, ‘Bathsheba Bathing’, Leaf from the Hours of Louis XII, Tours. 1498-1499. Los Angeles, Getty Institute, Ms. 79r.

Predominantly a display of Renaissance gardens in illuminated manuscripts, I really appreciated the variety of media curator Bryan Keene introduced his audience to. The map of the garden belonging to a private Nuremburg residence, oil paintings, prints of Florentine pageantry and the use of digital media all brought the show to life in a thoroughly enjoyable polished interactive performance. What fun! Plants are briefly described for their medical properties, their religious symbolism, and historical context, and the show ends with Hoefnagel’s exquisite botanical drawings in a very fine manuscript of calligraphy made for the Holy Roman emperors Ferdinand I and Rudolph II. Although this introduction to Renaissance gardens examines the European context in general, fabulous illustrations from Giovanni Boccaccio’s Concerning the Fates of Illustrious Men and Women and Francesco Colonna’s early printed book on Poliphilo among other specific Italian examples should certainly satiate any ACIS readers.

For any of you who arent completely gardened out after experiencing the exhibit, the Getty education program offers a series of demonstrations and courses on botanical drawing throughout July and an additional curatoria lecture on 27 July, 2013. I also just wanted to mention the deadlines for the 2014 RSA conference in New York 2014 (abstracts to be submitted by 11 June, 2013) and the MAA conference in LA 2014 (proposals due in 15 June, 2013). It’s late, I know, but if you have an idea already formed, it might be worth taking the time to write it up in a 250-word abstract and submit. There is always something to be learned at these conferences.

Diego Marani on language addiction

Fri, 07 Jun 2013 06:20:00 GMT

Last week Diego Marani, novelist, translator and inventor of Europanto, spoke to a capacity audience at the Italian Cultural Institute in Melbourne about how he got hooked on languages.

Diego Marani in Melbourne

In a conversation about language, identity and what it means to be European, he discussed the way his writing explores the question of multilingualism, an important issue in an expanding and globalized Europe. Diego Marani has dedicated much of his life to studying languages, both for professional purposes – he worked as a translator and interpreter for the European Commission, where he is now multilingual policy officer – and per diletto . Once he started learning languages, he couldn’t stop. The rush he felt upon being able to adopt a new identity along with the unfamiliar sounds, structures and meanings of a new language soon became something he couldn’t do without.

Yet Diego still describes himself as very definitely Italian, and even from his home in Brussels, he has been careful to maintain his local dialect (he hails from Tresigallo, in the province of Ferrara), which expresses yet another of his multiple identities.

The interplay between language and identity is at the heart of the two novels that Text has recently published in English translation, New Finnish Grammar and The Last of the Vostyachs (trans. Judith Landry).

Nuova grammatical finlandese ( New Finnish Grammar ) is an ode to the Finnish language, as the protagonist – a soldier who has lost his memory and identity – tries to reconnect with his past by painstakingly (re-)learning this notoriously difficult language from scratch. Diego talked about his own struggles to learn this troublesome, declension-rich tongue.

The crowd at the Italian Cultural Institute

The exquisite L’ultimo dei vostiachi ( The Last of the Vostyachs ) explores the tragedy of language death, while also showing how languages can live on in unexpected ways, even after all their speakers have died out. (It is also a delightful satire of academia and especially of historical linguistics.) As Diego explained in our conversation, languages never really die; some trace of them always remains.

Diego also spoke about Europanto, a language of his own invention, and in a short address showed the audience that finally a language has come along that anyone can speak, because “in Europanto existe keine mistakes porque Europanto esse eine single grosse mistake!”

Diego Marani’s talk was co-presented by AALITRA , the Italian Cultural Institute Melbourne and Text Publishing . You can listen to the full recording here .

News from the journals – Italian film

Mon, 27 May 2013 07:52:00 GMT

Italian cinema has become increasingly well covered in journals recently. The Italianist, for example, has an annual Film Issue alongside its regular numbers which cover all aspects of Italian art, culture and life from the Middle Ages to the present day. In addition to articles on TV showgirls, Gina Lollobrigida, postwar crime, masculinities, unattainable horizons […]

The Politics of ‘Connective Marginalities’ in Italian Reggae Culture

Wed, 22 May 2013 07:42:00 GMT

Different Stylee

Although the ‘official’ historical narrative of the of the 1980s has been one of collective apathy and narcissism, the recontextualisation of foreign musical forms, such as reggae and punk, within Italy’s pre-existing political subculture demonstrated a rebirth of the autonomous personal and collective political practices of the 1970s. These counterhegemonic musical forms flourished within a new wave of centri sociali sociali organizzati autogestiti (CSOAs) throughout Italy, and were accompanied by the creation of alternative and independent forms of media, such as fanzines and radio programs on the radio libere . A particularly seminal reggae scene of the early to mid-1980s was that of Bari, associated with the pioneering dub/roots band Different Stylee, which was involved in the occupation of the reggae-punk CSOA la Giungla , as well as the creation of the Italy’s first reggae fanzine, “Rebel Soul”. At this time, a number of local reggae scenes and bands began to spring up from throughout the Italian peninsula, collaborating with one another for the first time and signalling the emergence of ‘translocal’ Italian reggae scenes. However, what distinguished Different Stylee from the rest was the fact that they went beyond the commercially recognized figure of Bob Marley to adapt the heaviest and most marginal aspects of reggae, such as dub and sound system culture, as well as some of its Rastafarian metaphors and lifestyle practices. Moreover, this context witnessed the first phase of reggae’s transculturation in Italy, with the incorporation of southern Italian and Mediterranean musical influences alongside the use of the Italian language.

Militant P Toasting

Bari was also to play a central role in the spread of reggae culture to the neighbouring sub-region of Salento, which, in turn, became known as Italy’s Jamaica. Piero Longo (aka Militant P) was the lead vocalist of Bari’s highly accomplished roots/dub band Struggle and lived in Bari with his Salentine parents. Militant P would spend the summers with his friends in the Salentine coastal town of San Foca, and he influenced them with his passion for Jamaican sounds. Together they formed one of Italy’s first raggamuffin crews: Sud Sound System. The music of SSS marked a key phase in the transculturation of reggae music in Italy, blending local language ( il salentino ) and local music ( la pizzica ) with Jamaican reggae, raggamuffin, and sound system culture, along with American hip hop. Such creative cultural syncretism even led to the neologism tarantamuffin by the French ethnomusicologist George Lapassade. SSS used music didactically, or as a form of edutainment, to increase cultural consciousness amongst marginalised Salentine youth, and to critique organized crime, heroin addiction and political corruption.

SSS portrait

The activity of SSS coincided with the ‘national-popular’ explosion of reggae/raggamuffin and hip hop during the so-called ‘posse movement’ between 1989 and 1996, and its association with and underground and independent network of CSOAs, free radios and independent record labels. The movement was characterized by an overt youth politics, gaining impetus through its affiliation with the student movement la Pantera between 1989 and 1990. Taking its cue from pioneers, such as Sud Sound System and Florence’s il Generale, the message-driven music created during this period adopted Italian and a range of local dialects, freely blending a confrontational punk sensibility with Jamaican raggamuffin and Afro-American hip hop. In spite of its cultural and technological innovation, the confrontational, collective, and ideologically-laden music of the posse era can be understood as a nostalgic return to the collective youth politics of the 1970s, and its ideological conceptualization of cultural production and reception. While these black music forms were disseminated in Britain and France through immigrant cultures, their emergence in Italy was intrinsically tied to long-standing and internal cultural, political, economic, and generational power imbalances.

Situating my research within the field of Italian cultural studies, my theoretical framework is based around the notion of the connective marginalities of Italian reggae culture, understood as a means of explaining how the subaltern and peripheral origins of reggae (and hip hop) connect with marginalized groups in a manner that cuts through linguistic, cultural and geographical borders. My notion of ‘marginality’ is multilayered, comprising political, social, economic, geographical, gender, linguistic, cultural, class, historical oppression, and generational factors. The rhizomatic recontextualisation and transculturation of global/foreign cultural signs, idioms and practices, and the manner in which this engages with a ‘dialectic of the glocal’ and the evolution of differentiated and cross-pollinated cultural forms, languages and identities, is also central. The thesis further seeks to frame this popular yet marginal cultural form as a counterhegemonic force able to redefine our understanding of Italian culture and identity and subvert and reposition the historical imbalances surrounding the so-called ‘Southern Question’.

Apart from some books and articles on the ‘posse era’ and the recent appearance of some books and a documentary on the evolution of Apulian reggae, there are limited resources directly related to my topic. (Some useful references can be found here ). Consequently, I am largely drawing on interviews that I conducted with some key protagonists of Italian reggae culture during my visit to Italy last year. My thesis has a chronological structure, so interviews have also been crucial in piecing together a history which has remained largely untold, both in Italy and abroad.

La cucina italiana ai tempi di facebook

Sat, 18 May 2013 14:07:00 GMT

La cucina italiana vanta, inevitabilmente, un vasto seguito di apprezzatori anche su facebook, dove ogni singolo prodotto o piatto tradizionale che sono riuscita a pensare di cercare conta almeno un gruppo di entusiasti sostenitori.

A conferma del detto “buono come il pane” – persino quando è secco, evidentemente – troviamo poi uno zoccolo duro di estimatori della pearà (intruglio veneto a base di midollo e pane raffermo), della torta di mica e lacc (torta lombarda che ricicla il pane avanzato), di una minestra dal nome probabilmente non all’altezza del suo sapore sublime, la “zuppa di latte e pane vecchio”, fino ad arrivare, in questo contagioso entusiasmo nord-italico per il pane avanzato, ad una pagina dedicata al “pan poss” (che però conta un unico misero like).

In qualche modo sorprendente anche l’entusiasmo suscitato nel mondo dagli odiati broccoli, argomento che “piace” a quasi sessantamila broccolai, e dall’aglio – quasi centomila, ma solo nella versione garlic , mentre l’aglio italiano riceve al confronto solo una manciata di consensi. Come logica conseguenza del suo più limitato consumo (?!?), l’aglio italiano raccoglie però, bisogna dire, anche molti meno odiatori rispetto alla versione internazionale; odiatori italiani che per altro se la prendono solo con coloro che vanno in metropolitana dopo essersene cibati, più che contro il bulbo in sé.

Accanto ai piatti della tradizione, in effetti, anche piatti non così tanto tradizionali vantano i loro estimatori: il gruppo degli amici della misteriosa cassoeula napoletana ha ben 50 membri,128 fan per l’innovativa pizza altoatesina sud-tirolese. Discorso a parte per piatti liberamente ispirati alla tradizione italiana, che raccolgono indignate buone forchette in gruppi la cui missione è spiegare al mondo che spaghetti bolognese, carbonara alla panna e pizza con ananas (su cui per altro wikipedia diffonde la tendenziosa notizia che si tratterebbe della pizza più popolare in Australia) non hanno ragione di esistere. Mancano invece (per ora) all’appello gruppi che raccolgano gli indignati dalla pizza arricchita con maionese, così come dalla pasta condita con marmellata, che una popolarissima leggenda diffusa tra i campeggiatori degli anni ’80 vedeva essere il gioioso piatto preferito della prima colazione per gli immancabili vicini di tenda tedeschi in vacanza sulle nostre coste. Ma per questi ci possiamo sempre organizzare.

The irresistible appeal of crime series

Sun, 12 May 2013 06:39:00 GMT

The recent discussion about crime fiction readership made me think about another interesting topic: the appeal of crime series. According to Eco “from the beginning the reading of a tradtional detective story presumes the enjoyment of following the scheme”. Moreover, the reader deals “with schematism involving the same sentiments and the same psychological attitudes” (1979, 117-18). More recently, Robert Rushing, talking about Andrea Camilleri’s crime series, observes that a series can be “a reader’s initiation into a series of social problems” (2007, 33). What’s the appeal, then, of a crime fiction series? Is it the appeal of the main protagonist? Is it the cosiness of the familiar? Is it the longing for a never-ending book? Or rather an interest for some specific issues addressed by the series? These are questions I am asking you, crime fiction (and crime series) lovers.

Who wrote Australia’s first Italian cookbook?

Tue, 07 May 2013 06:34:00 GMT

Written in 1937, the First Australian Continental Cookery Book doesn’t at first glance appear to be an Italian cookbook, let alone the first one published in Australia by Italian migrants.

“It is time for Australians to realise, in fact, that what one may call Mediterranean cookery has much to offer them. Italian cookery, for instance, embodies ideas, aims and methods that have not only been ripening for literally thousands of years, but have been doing so under climatic conditions far more closely resembling those of Australia than do the British… French cookery is practically an offshoot of the Italian. British cookery, with all its merits, can boast no such illustrious pedigree.”

Intrigued by both the sentiment expressed and the eloquence of the writing, I vowed to find out who penned it. My instincts told me it had to be an Italian, but how could I know for sure? I started in the most obvious place – with the publisher, the Cosmopolitan Publishing Company – and quickly found out it was comprised of a syndicate of politically-minded Italian migrants strongly linked with Fascism. The company was the idea of businessman Filippo Maria Bianchi who had come to Australia in 1928, and who, together with journalist Franco Battistessa, founded Il Giornale Italiano , a pro-Fascist newspaper which ran from 1932 to 1940.

It was when publication of the paper was threatened with disruption by its Australian printer because of the Italo-Abyssinian War that Bianchi decided to establish the Cosmopolitan Publishing Company in Melbourne’s CBD.

Disappointed, my attention then turned to Franco Battistessa, the editor of Il Giornale Italiano . Battistessa was educated in England, so his language skills were certainly good enough, and he was a staunch promoter of all things Italian. More than that, the wit and obvious intelligence of his newspaper writing is not dissimilar to that found in the First Australian Continental Cookery Book . In a bid to find a link, I travelled to the Mitchell Library in Sydney to look at an archive of his personal papers. What I found were countless letters to editors defending Italians, Italian culture, and, as an important part of culture, Italian food and wine, all written in his trademark engaging and passionate style. What I didn’t find was any evidence that he had written the First Australian Continental Cookery Book , so again, I was no closer to finding the author.

With no obvious leads left to follow up, I was hoping a recent presentation of my research at the Museo Italiano in Carlton might prompt someone to come forward with some new names or ideas about where to look. It didn’t eventuate, but not knowing the author doesn’t diminish the fact that the First Australian Continental Cookery Book with its revolutionary message for Australians to embrace foods from many countries, especially Italy, and look beyond Britain as their main source of culinary and dietary habits, was truly ahead of its time. For it could be argued that the future it envisaged for Australian cooks and eaters has, in many respects, come true.

Diario di un sogno: in Emilia after the earthquake of May 2012

Thu, 02 May 2013 09:43:00 GMT

A year ago, in late May, a severe earthquake struck northern Italy, with its epicentre in Emilia. The small community of San Felice sul Panaro (MO) was badly hit with 3 deaths and many buildings damaged or destroyed, including the magnificent Rocca Estense.

La Rocca Estense April 2012

La Rocca Estense June 2012

San Felice is perhaps best known for the annual event known as Magico , invented for the community a decade ago by a photographer from Este, Mario Lasalandra , who, inspired by the dream-like paintings of Chagall, has had a particular interest in the ways in which the semblance of silence and immobility associated with the world of the peasantry can unleash the imagining of surreal figures and places beyond time.

Each year the event brings together the inhabitants as actors to perform a different theme, the squares and streets serving as the stage and made magical by the drifting (artificial) clouds with accompanying soundscape. Since 2003 the themes have included ‘Giorno di Nozze’, ‘Santi e Miracoli’, ‘Guerra e Pace’, and ‘Il Circo’ as well as a homage to Federico Fellini. The marvellous faces, costumes and gestures are captured by photographers attracted from all parts of Italy to produce a fabulous record of a unique event. After the earthquake struck, it was felt that perhaps the tradition should be suspended. But the local community was insistent that it should continue, under the title Diario di un sogno, to be staged on Sunday 26 May, almost exactly one year after the first wave of destruction – a memorial dedicated to the future.

Crime fiction in Italian: who reads it?

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 08:10:00 GMT

Italian crime fiction has been the topic of several posts which have raised questions about its authors, their protagonists and those protagonists’ family lives.

Credit: Miles Cole

There’s another kind of question we can ask: who reads this particular literary genre? (And if its consumers are clearly skewed in terms of class, gender or age, we can then wonder if writers are aware of this and shape their stories according to what they think will appeal to their most enthusiastic readership). An ISTAT-Multiscopo survey carried out in 2006, containing some comparisons with a similar survey taken in 2000, provides a few answers. Over that brief period books classified as gialli and noir increased their appeal from 22% to 27% of all readers – in fact it was the fastest-growing genre. In 2006 it constituted the third most popular type of book, behind novels and useful books for the home but slightly ahead of tourist guides and humour. While we might think stereotypically that gialli and noir would be more likely to appeal to men than to women, we would be wrong. In 2006 marginally more women (27.2%) than men (27.1%) read books from this category. To confirm stereotypes: science fiction and horror interest twice as many male as female readers, while female readers dominate the consumption of books about health, children and cooking (books about animals seem to be sex-neutral).

What about the impact of age on reading preferences? Novels appeal pretty much equally to all adult age-groups: readers aged 75+ consume Italian novels as eagerly as readers fifty years younger, although interest in foreign authors flags with age. Peak consumption for gialli/noir is among 35-44-year olds – the only other literary category which peaks at that age is literature for children, presumably books read together at night ( noir couldn’t offer the reading-out of suppressed desires among this particularly-harassed-by-both-work-and-family-demands age-group, could it?). Interest in humorous books declines systematically from age 20 onwards: real life gets its grip and humour is not an Italian form of escapism (except in politics). Books defined as religious provide the only exception to the rule that reading as an activity declines with age: interest rises continuously from age 20 onwards (the avid concern in the mass media with the neighbouring domains of astrology and the occult doesn’t carry over into book form at any age).

ISTAT did not extend the survey to investigating what sorts of titles in the various fields have proven most popular, so we don’t know whether the inclusion of terms like ‘delitto’ or ‘sangue’ or ‘mistero’ adds value to their bearers among gialli . Observing the array of best-sellers in his local bookshop, Alan Coren once noted that a surefire hit title would include cats and golf (his next book was called Golfing for Cats) . Is there a similar recipe for a successful Italian giallo ? (And will anyone making use of this valuable pointer towards huge sales at airport bookstalls please ensure that ACIS receives a share of the royalties).

Luxury and its underside

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 07:08:00 GMT

Luxury is one of the concepts most closely associated in the popular mind with Italy today and in the Renaissance period which I research and teach.

‘A diamond is forever’ (Don Draper, 1948, after Anita Loos, 1925)

But the precise value and consequences of luxury – of the skills it preserves and innovation it generates, but also of the social inequalities it reflects and arguably exacerbates – are still matters of heated debate. I am part of a recently-launched International Network entitled Luxury & the Manipulation of Desire which aims to explore these questions anew, linking the contemporary agenda to scholarship on the history of global luxury from the Renaissance to the present. It focuses on three key areas: the production of luxury, the regulation of luxury and the geography of luxury.

Funded by the Leverhulme Trust, the Network is led by my colleague Professor Giorgio Riello, an expert in the history of fashion, and based at the University of Warwick in the UK. Key partners include academics from the Universities of Melbourne, Bologna, Stockholm/UTS Sydney, and the Victoria and Albert Museum. It kicked off in March with an opening meeting at Warwick, featuring a public lecture by the University of Melbourne’s Dr Catherine Kovesi on the theme of Luxury and Desire: From Denigration to Celebration ; workshops in London, Bologna, Warwick and Florence will follow over the next two years. One of the original and exciting aspects of the Network is the planned associations with industry partners, journalists and regulators. The workshop in Bologna on the ‘Regulation of Luxury’, for example, will bring together historians with representatives from the Ferragamo and Bulgari brands as well as the Italian Inland Revenue. The aim is to provoke real intellectual debate about the ethical, legal and social implications of contemporary luxury, by reflecting on luxury’s long roots. The Network will also feed into the planning for a major exhibition on Contemporary Luxury at the Victoria and Albert Museum in 2015.

Renaissance Italy continues to provide a unique perspective on some of the contradictions surrounding luxury. The historian Richard Goldthwaite has argued that this time and place saw the ‘birth of consumer society’ in the West, spurred by a proliferation of new goods and increased prosperity. The voracious desire for luxury goods like clothing, palaces, and artwork spurred unprecedented cultural innovation and made cities like Florence and Venice into the magnificent aesthetic experiences they remain today. Yet these same cities were riven by severe economic inequalities: rich and poor often living cheek-by-jowl, conspicuous consumption of local and global commodities co-existing with increasing destitution. Luxury also had significant political consequences, underpinning the authority of the ruling élites and setting them off ever more from the masses below. (Meanwhile, the same élites were members of city governments that pioneered policies seeking to regulate some of the pernicious social effects of luxury while also promoting innovation and economic growth).

My own particular interest is in what you might call the ‘underside’ of luxury, its implications for the broader fabric of Renaissance society. In the past, my research into the impact of the spread of printing in Renaissance Italy led me to look at the pedlars who were proliferating in the streets and piazzas of Italian cities by the sixteenth century and who sold not only the new products of the press (printed images, pamphlets, broadsheets, books) but also other small ‘luxury’ goods such as perfumes, medicines and items of haberdashery. Pedlars were a vibrant and ubiquitous presence in Italian Renaissance urban life; their activity also intersected with traditions of performance and spectacle, as sales pitches and street cries frequently crossed over into songs and recitations. It is also noteworthy that the cheap printed publications they peddled could carry ideas and commentary about wealth and luxury to a broad public: from instructional manuals on making cosmetics and hosting dinner parties to songs and poems lamenting the suffering of the poor and their neglect by the rich.

Under the auspices of the Luxury Network, I want to find out more about how, and to what degree, the new consumer culture spread throughout Italian Renaissance society, by continuing to trace the activities and itineraries of pedlars. They played a role as vital vectors of transmission – not only of goods but also of styles, trends and ideas – both around Italy and also connecting the peninsula into wider commercial circuits in the rest of Europe and overseas. But they were frequently poor themselves and typically viewed with ambivalence – sometimes harshly regulated as carriers of dirt and disease, clutterers of public space and makers of noise. They were also derided as personifications of a crass commercialism that, to some observers, seemed to define the age.

It seems to me that luxury cannot and should not be separated from its underside, and it is sometimes a dark and dirty one. Our own age shows particularly striking examples of this, as documented in devastating fashion in Katherine Boo’s recent book Behind the Beautiful Forevers , about the slum dwellers scraping a living by recycling refuse from the luxury hotels that have sprouted up in the shadow of Mumbai’s international airport. Luxury’s underside is now more likely to be hidden from consumers by global distances, as in China’s massive fake goods industry described in Loretta Napoleoni’s Rogue Economics ; but it can also be just next door, as in the Mumbai example.

Similarly, when we consider the Italian Renaissance, it is important to think about the underside of luxury: to ask what it meant to ordinary people, or if they sought, within their means, to emulate the lifestyles of the rich. Similarly, we need to find out what went on ‘behind the scenes’ of the luxury trade, remembering the many urban artisans involved in making the new luxury goods, if not consuming them themselves. They played their own part in shaping taste and driving forward innovation as much as élite patrons and consumers (contributing in the process to Italy’s incredibly rich patrimony of artisanal skill). These interlocking stories of production and consumption, of aspiration and emulation, of luxury and its underside, are absolutely integral to understanding Italian Renaissance culture and can also provide a vital perspective on contemporary debates.

From text to stone: translation on the Italian peninsula in the later Middle Ages

Sat, 20 Apr 2013 07:59:00 GMT

Orvieto’s cathedral

With this blog entry I hope to make the paper I gave at a recent conference at Monash University a little more accessible to those of you who enjoy Italian history and art. I study the Italian cathedral, specifically the cathedral in Orvieto, and much of my work concerns its façade discourse: What did the images presented there mean to their audience? Who was that audience? Who was responsible for the content of that message? The theme of the ANZAMEMS conference at Monash was “Cultures in Translation” and the material I presented concentrated on the idea that translation extends beyond the literary sphere of text into the broader communicational field of ‘the arts’ in general. This is particularly true of medieval Europe, where there was great discrepancy in vernacular speech from one geographic region to another, and the educated ruling class communicated in Latin. Literacy was, generally speaking, a privilege of the educated male élite. In my paper ‘Text and Image at Orvieto’ I was trying to stress how important the language of images was as a universal means of addressing the medieval public.

At Orvieto, the vast expanse of narrative relief work executed under the direction of Sienese master builder Lorenzo Maitani is unique to Italian art. Twelfth-century precedents on the façades of the cathedral of Modena and the church of San Zeno Maggiore in Verona made no attempt to illustrate the Genesis cycle to the extent it appeared in the salvation discourse at Orvieto. At San Pietro in Spoleto, which is often cited for its geographic proximity, the façade narrative is extremely limited in comparison to the discursive nature and extent of the Orvieto reliefs. Perhaps its closest example in discursive quality and narrative style is the contemporary relief cycle sculpted for the tomb of Bishop Guido Tarlati in the Cathedral of Arezzo by the Sienese artist Agostino di Giovanni.

I am convinced that the Orvieto reliefs were based on the teachings of Saint Bonaventure at the University of Paris, and I have been able to trace the tree imagery which frames the four pilasters of pictorial narrative to the mendicant scholar’s Collationes in Hexaemeron. There is little doubt that the sculpted reliefs translate fundamental concepts from the Franciscan doctor’s original Parisian sermons into pictorial narrative form. Members of the 160-odd Parisian audience recorded Bonaventure’s orated commentary on Genesis in written form, which in its turn was transformed and placed on public display at Orvieto. This process of transformation from sermon to text to pictorial relief narrative ultimately rendered Bonaventure’s works more accessible to a much wider public. A concept very much in keeping with his beliefs that contemplative life should be the normal culmination of every truly Christian life and that sensory perception provides insight into God.

In Bonaventure’s commentaries on the Hexaemeron (the creation of the world in six days as presented in Genesis 1) we are able to observe an even older, more established translation history. According to Frank E. Robbins the first extant work of hexaemeral literature written in Greek was a commentary on Genesis by Philo Judaeus (c. 40 AD), who drew material from the Hebrew Bible, Plato’s Timaeus, Platonising neo-Pythagoreans and the Stoics. Subsequently, the most influential texts in the tradition were by Basil of Caesarea (d. 379) and Augustine of Hippo (d. 430). The fact that each new work was an imitation of earlier treatises was particularly relevant to the topic of the conference ‘Cultures in Translation’. The Hexaemeron can be traced through centuries of literature. Its commentary was translated from Greek to Latin and then into subsequent languages. John Milton’s Paradise Lost , which was first published in 1667, can be considered a later poetical version of the narrative.

The thirteenth century saw a proliferation of hexaemeral literature and Bonaventure’s contribution should be noted alongside those of Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas as all three of these men resided in Orvieto in 1262 during the residency of pope Urban IV. I am convinced that the sculpted articulation of the Orvieto cathedral façade represents a conscious effort to etch the presence of these great scholars into the city’s civic memory. In fact many elements in the relief program can be traced directly, not only to Bonaventure’s Collationes in Hexaemeron , but also to the hexaemeral commentaries of Augustine, Ambrose and Philo Judeaus himself. This is probably due to both Bonaventure’s studies of these texts and perhaps also an awareness of the hexaemeral tradition at the court of pope Nicholas IV, from where I believe the designers of the Orvieto cathedral façade were sourced.

Appointments as Honorary Research Associates of ACIS

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 01:03:00 GMT

ACIS is very pleased to announce the inaugural appointees to its recently-established position of Honorary Research Associate : the independent scholars Dr Michael Wyatt and Dr Barbara Pezzotti . Michael, a scholar of the cultural politics of translation and General Editor of the forthcoming Cambridge Companion to the Italian Renaissanc e, will be in Australia from August to October this year to give lectures and participate in seminars and workshops in Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane. Barbara holds a PhD from Victoria University, Wellington, and is a specialist in Italian crime fiction. She is currently completing a book entitled Italian crime fiction. A social history .

LCNAU for you, for Italian, for all languages in the Australian university sector

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 10:40:00 GMT

The Languages and Cultures Network for Australian Universities (LCNAU – pronounced ell-see-now ) was established in 2011 as the first coordinated national organization for languages in Australia’s tertiary education sector. The network is the result of a national project, ‘Leadership for future generations’, originally funded by the Office for Learning and Teaching (OLT), with additional significant support provided by a number of universities around the country. Italian, and all other languages have long faced many serious challenges in Australia’s universities – not the least of which are fragmentation and isolation (both university- and language-specific across a very large nation); LCNAU is here precisely to address these and many other issues in a positive fashion. LCNAU allows Italianists and other colleagues to come together in two particularly successful ways:

(1) Its official website is well worth a visit. It provides LCNAU with a significant virtual presence and acts as both an important clearing house and network contact point. The site also houses a number of virtual clusters that are focused on specific issues, allowing interested academics to come together;

(2) The LCNAU National Colloquium – held every two years. The first was held in Melbourne in September 2011 and was a great success with enthusiastic feedback from participants appreciative of the chance to connect with colleagues from around Australia. A selection of fully refereed papers, including some specifically on Italian, is now available for purchase in hard copy or downloadable for free online via our website . Online availability provides instant global access and dissemination.

The second national colloquium will be held this year at the Australian National University (ANU) in Canberra, 3-5 July 2013. With over 75 presentations planned across numerous formats, it is set to be another very successful event (details here ; registrations open soon). Participation is free and we would strongly encourage all of you to attend.

LCNAU is active in many different ways as well with other important roles and activities designed to benefit languages in the tertiary sector:

(a) national interlocutor and advocate , providing a coordinated voice for the tertiary languages sector when dealing with universities, governments and the media;

(b) research driver across the languages and cultures sector with a focus on best practice and dissemination. The national colloquium, the refereed proceedings, web site and virtual clusters – all discussed above – are practical examples of this kind of work;

(c) fostering collaboration and providing support. We operate in many different ways, e.g. seed funding to encourage collaborative research and as well as, in 2011, a special forum and workshop to understand better the role and place of casual and short-term contract staff in language programs.

2013 will be the most important year yet as LCNAU is formally established as a legal entity. As we move towards this important goal, we would like to acknowledge the invaluable participation and input of colleagues from Italian languages and cultures programs across the country. We are looking forward to continuing to work alongside you.

The architecture of luxury

Mon, 15 Apr 2013 07:16:00 GMT

Palacio de Bellas Artes, Mexico City. Begun by Adamo Boari in 1901.

The idea of luxury – how it can be defined and what forms it takes in different cultural contexts and historical periods – is the theme of an earlier post . My own interest is in the application of luxury in the field of architecture. Building on my previous research, which examined Francesco Venezia’s contemporary architectural spolia in Italy and France and Adamo Boari’s early modern designs in Mexico and the USA, I am developing a project which examines the meaning and application of luxury. Luxury has become a contentious issue in architecture: is it an unqualified benefit or something that should be present only within strict limits? The project’s scope spans from antiquity to modern (and contemporary) times. There are distinctive types of luxury. Myths about the ancient Sybarites’ lifestyle in Magna Graecia (now in Calabria, southern Italy) provide evidence of how places in antiquity were thought of as being luxurious. Primarily, I examine how the idea of Sybaris enters the realm of architectural history as a story of the origins of luxury and how its use was subsequently criticised in a range of architectural settings. Instances of luxury in architecture include grand palaces, follies, entertainment venues and ornate skyscrapers. They provided different settings for pleasure for the élite. This resulted in a continuous prompt to indulge still further in luxury. The project concentrates on areas where representations of luxury were realised, specifically in Italy – Naples, Rome, Florence and Venice – and how Italianate forms emerged in France through the works of Sebastiano Serlio. It also traces how luxury transformed Latin American architecture and in the United States as with Adamo Boari’s Palace of Fine Arts in Mexico City and his unrealized Luxfer Prism Tower in Chicago. In all these contexts I probe the relations between specific notions of luxury and the practice of architecture.

Dalla parte dello Studente Non Frequentante

Thu, 11 Apr 2013 19:38:00 GMT

Del mio primo giorno di università mi rimane solo questa impressione: trovai bellissimo il fatto che le porte fossero sempre tutte aperte, e quindi che chiunque, anche senza essere iscritto, potesse entrare in università e ascoltare una lezione, qualunque lezione volesse.

Alla terza lezione del corso di economia politica, e alla quarta di diritto pubblico, in effetti, il mio entusiasmo per tutta questa accessibilità del Sapere si era già in gran parte esaurito, e iniziavo a meditare di sfruttare questa liberalità delle aule universitarie statali per fare un giro esplorativo in altre facoltà, prive di numeri, formule e commi, e valutare se cambiare corso di laurea fin che ero ancora in tempo. Di lì a poco avrei indirizzato il mio interesse per il libero accesso alle aule universitarie nella direzione opposta: alla libertà di uscirne, o, se per questo, di non entrarvi neppure, come studente non frequentante. E, in fondo, l’essermi laureata in Scienze Politiche e non aver deciso di cambiare facoltà lo devo un po’ anche a questo.

Non che, ovviamente, in quelle prime settimane da matricola iper-diligente osassi davvero saltare le lezioni – tanto ero sicura che all’esame sarei stata altrimenti bocciata per essermi persa proprio quella spiegazione assente sul manuale. Per essere più precisi, non avrei potuto saltarle anche volendo: il mio zelo verso l’apprendimento universitario, insieme alla mia calligrafia ordinata, avevano reso i miei appunti talmente richiesti dai compagni di corso più smaliziati in tema di frequenza alle lezioni che dovevo continuamente stazionare in facoltà in attesa di recuperare i miei fogli di quaderno, prestati per essere fotocopiati, rendendo impraticabile il mio proposito di andare a verificare se le lezioni di Lettere e Filosofia fossero effettivamente più interessanti di quelle di Scienze Politiche.

Così sono rimasta lì e, con il tempo, ho finito per diventare anch’io, per alcuni corsi, una Studente Non Frequentante.

Additato come uno dei peggiori mali dell’università italiana, inevitabilmente destinato a trasformarsi nell’ancora meno raccomandabile Studente Fuoricorso, lo Studente Non Frequentante è stato oggetto di tentativi di estirpazione solo parzialmente incisivi nella maggior parte dei corsi di laurea (in cui la frequenza è “fortemente consigliata”) e riesce talvolta misteriosamente a persistere persino nei corsi di laurea a frequenza obbligatoria.

Questa sofferta tolleranza verso lo studente non frequentante sembra fondarsi, oltre che sulla sua convenienza (nulla chiede e nulla pretende, fuorché passare gli esami) sul mito che lo vede sempre studente lavoratore, cui sarebbe evidentemente inopportuno negare una laurea per il fatto che si deve mantenere lavorando. In realtà i motivi della non frequenza sono i più diversi e hanno solo parzialmente a che fare con il lavoro (i dati AlmaLaurea 2011 indicano che tra i laureati che non hanno svolto alcuna attività lavorativa durante l’università solo l’81% ha dichiarato di aver frequentato più del 75% degli insegnamenti previsti).

La non frequenza alle lezioni, vorrei suggerire, trova un solido fondamento nell’idea, inculcata negli studenti almeno a partire dall’inizio della scuola media, che il processo di apprendimento (se non altro per le materie non “scientifiche” o tecniche) sia qualcosa che non avviene in classe, durante la lezione, nel confronto con gli insegnanti e i compagni, ma in un altrove – la propria stanza, la biblioteca, il treno – in cui lo studente è solo con un testo scritto da leggere, imparare, ragionare.

Dal che credo discenda anche l’inesorabile mutismo che spesso affligge gli studenti italiani in classe, i quali si lasciano convincere a rispondere a domande che non siano poste durante un’interrogazione solo dopo molte lusinghe e minacce (“Guardate che se qualcuno non risponde chiamo un nome a caso dall’elenco…”) e ancor più difficilmente a porne loro stessi. Qualunque dialogo in classe, in questa prospettiva, finisce infatti per costituire un fastidioso contrattempo rispetto al regolare svolgimento delle lezioni, la cui utilità risiederebbe esclusivamente nell’annotazione degli importantissimi appunti, che del resto è stata loro indicata per anni come la principale capacità da acquisire per potersi laureare (“Dovete imparare a prendere appunti, se no poi all’università come fate?!”) – capacità che però, come si è visto, può essere facilmente sostituita dalla perizia nell’uso della fotocopiatrice e nell’interpretazione delle altrui calligrafie.

Date queste premesse, la presenza degli studenti a lezione rimane una circostanza che non smette di commuovermi, un atto di generosità gratuita meritorio di un impegno nel preparare le lezioni che altrimenti non avrebbe nessun reale incentivo – se non, al limite, il rischio di ritrovarsi un giorno in un’aula deserta. Ho almeno due motivi, dunque, per ringraziare gli studenti non frequentanti: la mia laurea, grazie alle loro richieste di appunti in prestito, e l’avermi reso un’insegnante migliore, grazie al timore del veder altrimenti crescere, lezione dopo lezione, il numero delle sedie lasciate da loro vuote.

[Questo post si inserisce in una esplorazione del mondo dell’Università in Italia che ha già visto un contributo in questo blog, e sarà prossimamente oggetto di una serie di interventi che presenteranno vari aspetti di questa realtà dai diversi punti di vista degli attori che ne fanno parte.]

Women and the Italian learned academies, 1525-1700

Fri, 05 Apr 2013 08:02:00 GMT

Accademia degli Spensierati

This week’s TLS (April 5) carries a full two-page ‘Commentary’ by Jane Everson and Lisa Sampson summarising some results from their ongoing AHRC-funded research project on ‘The Italian Academies 1525-1700: The first intellectual networks of early modern Europe’. They examine the hitherto greatly undervalued role of women in the life of these early academies, not simply as the passive object of men’s praise or attention but as active participants in debates and publications. They point out that the extent of the contributions by women varies by creative genre – strong in lyric poetry and in painting but more problematic in the world of drama and the theatre. Involvement of women as patrons – rarely authors – of dramatic productions was quite common, especially in the courts of North Italy. But the ambiguous social status and dubious respectability of performers – actors, singers, musicians – must have caused many early modern mothers to heed Noel Coward’s advice, ’Don’t put your daughter on the stage, Mrs Worthington’. It’s a fascinating survey which can be followed up, with full details of the research, personnel and activities, on the project’s website . (DM)

The election of a Pope

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 09:03:00 GMT

In a world of tweets, tablets and smart phones, the Conclave is a rather odd throwback to times past. A large group of old men lock themselves in a room and cast a secret ballot, and then let the rest of us know by sending smoke signals. No live Twitter updates, no hash-tags, no social media. Just the cardinals, a temporary chimney, and some pretty amazing frescoes. The world’s media does its best to drag the event into the twenty-first century, but it’s hard work to make a 24-hour-a-day live feed of the Sistine Chapel roof interesting TV viewing. And talk about speculation…‘What do you think is going on inside the chapel, random person wandering around St Peter’s Square?’

Allow me, then, to add to the conjecture by retelling the story of the election of Pius II. Surely we can trust the first hand account of a pope himself to tell us what really happens inside a Conclave. Right? In the summer of 1458, on a day the armies of Christian Europe lost yet another battle to the Ottoman Turks, the reigning pope, Callixtus III, died. To make matters worse, Cardinal Domenico Capranica, the man who was favoured to next sit in St Peter’s throne, also died before the Conclave could commence.

The drama of these events is one of the key elements of Pius’ Commentaries , which he wrote during his six-year reign and in which the author somewhat cheekily (at least to us it’s cheeky!) talks about himself in the third person. Indeed, the melodrama would put Hitchcock to shame as Pius paints a vivid picture of the underhanded jostling that rushed into the power-vacuum left by the successive deaths of Callixtus and Capranica. To begin with, Pius seizes the opportunity presented by Capranica’s death to retrospectively anoint himself the obvious successor to Callixtus. He states that ‘it was common talk that Aeneas of Siena would be pope. No one was held in higher esteem’ (Aeneas, of course, was his name before he was Pius, remember what I said about the third person?). In the face of this unwavering confidence, however, the first scrutiny proved inconclusive and as a consequence Pius tells us that those aspiring to the papacy were forced to lobby fiercely for support. He says that ‘each had a great deal to say for himself. Their rivalry was extraordinary, their energy unbounded. They neither rested by day nor slept at night’. From this charged atmosphere there would emerge two main candidates: Aeneas, and the Cardinal of Rouen, an unscrupulous French noble who agitated incessantly to capture the papacy.

According to Pius, a clandestine gathering determined to elect the Frenchman, prompting the memorable line, ‘a perfect place to elect such a pope: where better to strike a filthy bargain than in the latrines!’ He follows this extravagance with the exclamation that ‘no one’s going to get me to vote for a man I think totally unfit to follow Peter’. Finally Pius plays his trump card. In a rather alarmist way he fuels the fear that a Rouen papacy would desert Italy forever. He exhorts a fellow cardinal to ‘take care! Even if you think nothing of the Church of Rome, even if you have no regard for the Christian religion and despise God – whom you’d provide with such a vicar – at least take thought for yourself, for you will find yourself among the last and least, if a Frenchman becomes pope.’ Of course, the Frenchman didn’t become pope, the papacy didn’t move back to France, and the right man – or so Pius tells us – is granted control of the Western Church. The pages that follow contain a lot of congratulations and smiles and weeping, and Pius’ hands and feet are kissed a great many times. Surprisingly, Pius is quite terse when it comes to his coronation, mainly because he is in a mad rush to prove himself the scourge of the Ottoman Turks. He colours his immediate call for another crusade by telling us that ‘everyone applauded his courage and his purpose and praised him to the skies as the only man on earth who cared for the safety of the faith’. An interesting claim, but that is a story for another time…

There it is. The inside story of what happens when the Catholic world needs to elect a new pontiff. As of this morning, one of the most exciting but irregular carnivals has left town. There is nothing left to do, other than call in the chimney sweeps, give it a good clean and pack it away for next time.

Will Italy come out of its coma?

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 17:39:00 GMT

Love it or leave it, Italy is in terminal decline. At least this is the message of Girlfriend in a Coma , a new documentary about the state the country finds itself in today.

Covering some similar ground to Gustav Hofer and Luca Ragazzi’s Italy: Love It or Leave It (2011) but taking a different approach, Girlfriend in a Coma examines all that is wrong with Italy today in terms of corruption, greed and small-mindedness, while also showcasing the many positive, constructive and creative responses by ordinary and extraordinary Italians.

Talking heads include numerous prominent figures from Italian politics, business, academia, anti-mafia and the arts as well as members of the growing diaspora (whom Stefano Bona called to action in his recent post on this blog ).

While Hofer and Ragazzi’s film has an optimistic ending, with the directors opting to ‘love’ rather than ‘leave’ Italy, Girlfriend in a Coma is best described as open-ended. In fact, it ends with the words ‘This is NOT the end’, leaving viewers to take responsibility for deciding what can be done and indeed must be done to jolt the country out of her comatose state. Dantesque allegory pervades the film, which presents not only good Italy and bad Italy but also what is perhaps the worst sin of all, ignavia (sloth). Like much cultural production in response to the country’s economic and political crisis, it has an interactive and activist aspect to it, exhorting Italians to act and to act now, before it’s too late. The filmmakers have already travelled to different parts of the country to present the film and engage in discussion with audiences. Viewers are also encouraged to submit video responses outlining what they would like to do to save Italy.

Now we just need to watch this space.

You can view the official trailer here . You can read more about the film, track its progress and reception as it screens across Italy, and download it for a small fee at the official website . (Viewers in Italy can download it here .)

L’Italia oggi (e domani?)

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 05:56:00 GMT

Abusivismo edilizio

A due settimane dal voto che più d’ogni altro ha ingarbugliato la matassa politica italiana, ancora non si sa – se c’è – chi possa avere il coraggio di prendere in mano una delle patate più bollenti della storia della repubblica, in altre parole: provare a formare un governo. Inutile girarci intorno: si tratta di un atto d’eroismo. Chiunque si trovi a dover gestire l’esecutivo, dovrà barcamenarsi fra una maggioranza minoritaria, un’opposizione che si muoverà secondo i risultati delle vicissitudini medico-giudiziarie del suo capo, e un movimento che non è disposto per principio a fare accordi con alcun partito. Insomma, eroismo sì, e forse anche un po’ di masochismo, ma nient’altro, perché cosa potrà fare un governo con le mani e i piedi legati, gli occhi bendati, le orecchie tappate e la bocca imbavagliata? Ma soprattutto, come sarà fisicamente questo governo? Di “inciucio” fra Pd e Pdl, il Pd non vuole sentir parlare. Un altro governo tecnico, sono ben pochi a volerlo. Un governo “grillino”, nessuno lo appoggerebbe. A nuove elezioni non si può andare, perché siamo nel semestre bianco del presidente della repubblica, e in ogni caso non porterebbero a risultati migliori finché la legge elettorale avrà un soprannome suino. Al momento non c’è nemmeno un papa che possa intercedere per una giusta soluzione. L’unica cosa certa è l’assoluta incertezza.

Appunto. L’incertezza, la provvisorietà, l’improvvisazione e l’arte di arrangiarsi: i grandi difetti e allo stesso tempo le grandi virtù degli italiani, popolo di geniali sregolati, abituato dalla sua travagliata storia a pensare al proprio orticello piuttosto che al bene comune. Forse è anche per questo che il 95% delle imprese italiane ha meno di 10 addetti ( dati Istat 2009 ), ed è così difficile per loro “fare sistema” quando si rivolgono ai mercati internazionali. Ciò che è grande e strutturato viene visto con sospetto (e spesso funziona male), e le regole appaiono ostacoli da evitare come i paletti nello slalom gigante. L’Italia, con le dovute eccezioni, sembra ancora ragionare (spesso per necessità) secondo il principio del “meglio un uovo oggi che una gallina domani”: il problema è che, quando si naviga attraverso una crisi, le uova finiscono, e anche i pollai rischiano di restare vuoti. Evidentemente, alla maggior parte della popolazione fa comodo che la cose vadano avanti così, altrimenti non si spiegherebbero le innumerevoli crisi politiche attraverso cui è passato il paese, così come non si spiegherebbe la cronica incapacità di scegliere una classe dirigente all’altezza della situazione. Anche questa volta, tuttavia, l’Italia troverà il modo di andare avanti, “all’italiana” come ha sempre fatto.

Ma prima che molti guai diventino irreparabili, è tempo che gli italiani comincino a guardare oltre i muri del proprio giardino, per scoprire ciò che altrove è già noto da tempo, e cioè che è il senso civico a tenere in piedi un paese e a farlo funzionare. Se non c’è interesse per ciò che è pubblico; se l’interesse è limitato al me (e tutt’al più alla mia famiglia, nemmeno troppo allargata), qui e ora; se non c’è la capacità di pensare alle conseguenze future delle proprie azioni e decisioni odierne; e se manca la voglia di progettare a medio-lungo termine (5, 10, 20 anni, cominciando insomma a vedere il futuro come un’opportunità anziché come una minaccia), allora l’Italia si troverà sempre ad affrontare emergenze (politiche, sociali, ambientali, economiche) a ripetizione, invece di prevenirle per incanalare le proprie energie in qualcosa di più costruttivo. Forse è anche per questo che gli esiti del voto di febbraio sono stati così diversi in Italia e all’estero: gli italiani residenti all’estero hanno una visione più disincantata del loro paese, proprio perché sono in grado di confrontarla direttamente con altre realtà che questi concetti li danno per scontati (e certamente non hanno vissuto la crisi nazionale sulla propria pelle). Ed è per questo che gli altri paesi e la stessa Unione europea faticano davvero a capirla, l’Italia.

Per concludere, finché gli italiani non riusciranno a guarire spontaneamente dalla propria certezza di essere un popolo di sessanta milioni di casi particolari, allenatori, presidenti del consiglio e amministratori delegati della Fiat; finché non riusciranno a liberarsi dalla convinzione che nessuno li può capire; e finché non supereranno definitivamente una mentalità ancora troppo legata al proprio tornaconto personale, il paese forse non affonderà, ma sicuramente continuerà ad annaspare. E’ vero, 150 anni di unità sono pochi per guarire da vizi secolari o addirittura millenari, ma pur sempre sufficienti per assimilare, con un poco di volontà, i concetti di Italia, popolo italiano e di evoluzione del paese. È arrivato il momento di smettere di annaspare e imparare a nuotare. Già, ma come? Chi può smuovere gli italiani? Chi può aiutarli a diventare consapevoli delle proprie potenzialità? I loro connazionali all’estero, per esempio. I professionisti e i “cervelli in fuga” ancora legati al proprio paese. I quali non dovrebbero buttarsi nella politica spiccia, ma semplicemente bussare alla porta della loro casa natale, provare a farsela aprire, spiegare pazientemente e nella stessa lingua (al telefono, sulla carta stampata o sui social networks ) come e perché funzionano i paesi che “ce l’hanno fatta”, e soprattutto come e perché l’Italia può diventare un paese migliore. C’è già chi si è mosso, ma dovrebbe diventare un’azione organizzata per poter essere efficace. Un compito non da poco, ma oggi più che mai necessario, se non vogliamo ridurci a parlare dell’Italia solo al passato e a celebrare la festa della repubblica il 2 novembre, anziché il 2 giugno.

(foto di apertura: http://www.italialive.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/40578_abusivismo-edilizio.jpeg )

Alcune letture sull’argomento

Alesina, A., Ichino, A. (2009). L’Italia fatta in casa: Indagine sulla vera ricchezza degli italiani. Milano: Mondadori.

Sciolla, L. (1997). Italiani. Stereotipi di casa nostra. Bologna: Il Mulino.

Tullio-Altan, C. (1997). La coscienza civile degli italiani. Valori e disvalori nella storia nazionale. Udine: Gaspari.

Paneropoli. Ovvero Ugo Foscolo era forse intollerante al lattosio?

Tue, 26 Feb 2013 21:56:00 GMT

Dopo il trittico di post sulla panna “dal primo al dolce” servito fin qui, non ci resta che concludere il pasto con una bella tazza di crema di latte – cui, se volete, vi concedo di aggiungere un po’ di caffè.

Ritratto di Ugo Foscolo

Il ruolo tanto centrale quanto vituperato della panna nella cucina italiana e in quella lombarda in particolare, già illustrato in precedenti post, trova infatti ulteriore conferma nientemeno che nelle lettere di Ugo Foscolo, il poeta più odiato dagli scolari italiani di ogni ordine e grado (complice A Zacinto , notoriamente la poesia da mandare a memoria per punizione favorita dalle insegnanti di lettere) il quale aveva il vezzo di riferirsi a Milano come di una Paneropoli – la città della panera, cioè della crema di latte, appunto.

Ugo Foscolo definiva Paneropoli il capoluogo lombardo illudendosi di fare un torto ai milanesi tamarri, colpevoli di preferire il basso piacere del cibo alle belle lettere – le sue in particolare. Per quale motivo Foscolo se la prendesse, di tutti i flagelli che affliggono Milano (le zanzare, la nebbia…) proprio con l’inoffensiva crema di latte, non è dato sapere con certezza. È tuttavia risaputo che l’acuta sensibilità d’animo del poeta romantico suole accompagnarsi ad una parimenti delicata costituzione, quindi non è forse azzardato ipotizzare che questo alimento producesse effetti negativi sul suo apparato digerente – ma soprattutto, ehm… post digerente? – causa una non diagnosticata intolleranza al lattosio.

Quali che fossero le ragioni del suo odio per la panna, Foscolo non poteva trovare, suo malgrado, appellativo che li rendesse più orgogliosi della loro città. Innanzitutto perché i lombardi perdonano e perfino apprezzano qualunque definizione data alla loro città capoluogo purché finisca il opoli – perfino tangentopoli, probabilmente – e faccia dunque rima con metropoli. Prima loro aspirazione è infatti quella che tutti si ricordino del fatto che Milano è una metropoli e non un paesone provincialotto, come temono sempre sia considerata.

Soprattutto, però, i lombardi sono sempre stati orgogliosi della fiorente attività casearia locale, orgoglio che trova conferma anche nella recentissima cronaca politica : tradizionalmente dipinti come piuttosto ritrosi di fronte al fisco, i lombardi si confermano infatti entusiasti contribuenti di tributi per le quote latte sforate, pur di salvaguardare l’abbondante produzione di panna locale.

Ritratto di mucca padana

[NdA oltre che concludere la mia personale serie sulla panna, questo post si inserisce idealmente nella sezione “ gossip sui patrioti italiani che furono esuli a Londra” di cui speriamo di leggere presto nuovi contributi su questo blog]

Slow Clothes: A Tale of Two Brothers, Two Sisters and a Butcher

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 14:55:00 GMT

I started this year with some spinal surgery. The long recuperation which has followed has brought new resonance for me of the Italian concept of ‘Slow’, a concept first articulated by Carlo Petrini back in 1986 as a protest against fast food. Everything in the last two months for me has had to proceed at a slow pace, sometimes excruciatingly so. And yet being forced to take things slowly has proved not to be a bad thing overall. Therapists in rehab, kindly helping me to manage my pain levels, have inducted me into Mindfulness Therapy, which I have found very helpful. On reflection, I think that the principles of ‘mindfulness’ lie at the core of ‘slow’ – taking time to think, to observe, to reflect, and just to concentrate on the joys to be had in the simple. It has reminded me also of the first time I started to understand the broader principles of ‘slow’, on a stunning April day in Florence in 2011, in the extraordinary textile mecca that is the Casa dei Tessuti .

Wild teasel, used to full woollen cloth in the traditional manner, on a piece of fulled wool at the Casa dei Tessuti.

In a two-storey shop just behind the baptistery in Florence, Romano and Romolo Romoli have been taking care of the high-end textile needs of elite consumers for over half a century, as did their father Egisto, who founded the Casa dei Tessuti in 1929. Members of every royal family in Europe have come here to source fabrics, and Australia’s own Sir James Gobbo is also a loyal customer and now friend of the brothers. Every inch of shelf space is covered with bolts of seriously delicious fabrics, with serious prices to match – Dior fabrics from the 50s, hand embroidered linen bolts from Lyons, silks of every kind and density, and, of course, this being Florence, woollen fabric of unutterable velvety softness. On both floors, scattered here and there, are antique relics of the Florentine textile industry of long ago, collected by the brothers and used by them to demonstrate some of the methods used by Florentines to produce the ‘fulled’ cloth for which their city was famous, a technique which helped underpin the textile economy of the Renaissance.

I first met the Romoli brothers in 2008, whilst on a Harvard Fellowship at Villa I Tatti in Settignano. One scant glance at me and especially at my clothes, would have indicated to them both that I was not going to prove a lucrative customer, not then, not ever. And yet both of them greeted me immediately with deep and genuine warmth as though I were an old friend invited to the heart of their home. Delighted that this was my first visit to their shop, they immediately took me by the arm and spent more than an hour with me finding out about me, showing me their shop, and telling me about some of their extraordinary customers. When they discovered that I was staying at I Tatti, they were doubly enthusiastic. This was because Bernard Berenson, the original art connoisseur, and founder of I Tatti, had been a valued customer of the Casa dei Tessuti. Romolo asked me whether I would still be down in the city within the next hour or so, and, when assured that I would be, immediately rushed off to his house back up in Settignano to get me a bottle of the olive oil produced from the olives in his garden. High on a shelf, running the length of the shop, are dozens of books, bound as only the Florentine bookbinding industry can. These are their Visitors Books. I was asked to write in the latest one. Feeling somewhat intimidated, with my insignificant scrawl and entry alongside so many luminaries, the brothers were insistent, and so I wrote.

Feeling very moved by the experience, a few days later I decided to bring my daughter there, who is an aspiring opera singer. Once the brothers realised that my Lydia can sing, their enthusiasm escalated and Romano, who is also a published poet, immediately presented her with a copy of a poem he had written for another client, an American who had sourced her wedding fabric from them. That woman had been so moved by the experience of buying fabric from the Romoli that she included Romano’s poem on her wedding invitation. Some of Romano’s poetry is published in a collection he called Fiori di Cardo, the word for the thistle, or teasel, used since ancient times to full cloth, and a title also indicative of his thoughts, fiori , on things he has learnt after years in the textile trade in Florence.

The author (in fast clothes) with Romano Romoli (in slow clothes) and a selection of threads of gold and of silver.

And so it was that in 2011, on the kind of spring day that belongs to Florence alone, I suggested to the lovely Christina Dyson that we should go and visit the Romoli. This time I timorously asked Romano whether I might interview him. Fortunately for me, he agreed, and so we spent several days, both in Florence, and up in his beautiful house in Settignano overlooking Florence, talking. One of the main themes of our conversation was that of the values of the Florence of his childhood. Wishing desperately that I was not wearing a product of a Chinese sweat shop on my back, I listened whilst Romano (wearing an understated but wonderful woollen suit) told me that he was an advocate not merely of ‘slow food’ but of ‘slow clothes’. The problem with the youth of today, he opined, was partly that they gave no thought to their clothes; to the processes that produce the cloth, to the care that should be spent on their construction and in their wearing. Instead clothes had become disposable – fast, not slow. The Casa dei Tessuti web site claims that their store has been ‘weaving the fabric of life for 75 years’. The claim is not an empty one. I thought how wonderful that the Romoli brothers could spend their lives enriching the lives of others through a deep and really profound sense of slowness, of hospitality, of quality in all its senses.

Rita Greco and Angela Rosa in their eponymous shop in Venice.

This particular emphasis on slowness was reinforced for me on a trip to Venice last year. There, on impulse, I went in to a shop I had walked past numerous times before, which had nothing but wonderful lampshades in the window. Feeling slightly foolish, again because it was clear that I was not in the market for a lampshade, I was immediately greeted with warmth and inducted into the world of the Greco sisters. Like something from a Dickensian novel, Angela Rosa and Rita Greco dress identically, from the shoes on up, and speak almost as one person. And, like the Romoli brothers, they have dedicated their working lives to one kind of industry, in their case that of making lampshades from antique Fortuny fabrics, and to doing it incredibly well. The Spaniard Mariano Fortuny settled in Venice and, although creative in many fields, is perhaps best remembered now for his contributions to textile and fashion design. His sylphan Delphos gowns and his printed velvets and silks are as scrumptious as they are inimitable. To create lampshades from such fabrics introduces another element of luminosity to them. Although their lampshades are now in houses of the famous throughout the world, as well as in high-end hotels in Venice itself, the Greco sisters greeted me with hospitality, and exuded a sense of joy. Joy in the small. Joy in the beautiful. Joy in the slow.

Further ruminations on ‘slow’ gained pace at dinner at my home the other night. Seated at the table was the Renaissance historian Nick Terpstra, who has been visiting Melbourne from his hometown of Toronto to take part in the ANZAMEMS conference. At dinner he told us about his son Christopher who spent several months learning the trade of butchery from the superstar of butchers, Dario Cecchini , in Panzano, just south of Florence. I’m not sure that any other butcher store in any country other than in Italy would have on its home page a declaration that in the store “è sacra l’ospitalità”, or that in the accompanying restaurants “si mangia tutti assieme in convivio” and that in his butchery Dario is inspired by “la ricerca della qualità.”

As Italy goes to the polls, and the media is full of negative forecasts for the future of this beautiful country, it is this notion of ‘slow’ that continues to bring me back there, whether consciously or unconsciously. I remember the very first ACIS conference , co-convened by Gino Moliterno and David Moss, at the Australian National University in Canberra. Its theme was ‘The Importance of Italy’. One of the keynote addresses by, I think, Peter Bondanella, concluded that Italy for him was important, because any country in which the owner of even a lowly hardware store can delight in arranging screwdrivers artfully in his shop window, is a country that moves one at a deep level. Whilst the art, literature and architecture for which the country is famous also of course move me, it is those who still manage, through hard economic times and gruelling socio political realities, to take joy in the small, who find beauty in a bolt of cloth or a lampshade, or a side of beef, and who warmly offer you hospitality so that you can delight in the small yet beautiful with them, that makes the country so deeply and enduringly affecting.

Ocio ciò

Sun, 10 Feb 2013 10:34:00 GMT

As soon as we challenge students to look at and interpret Venice with their own eyes and minds, several new spaces emerge from the misty and wintery calli , from the off the beaten track campi and sotoporteghi . Even the most public spaces of Venice such as the Palazzo Ducale become impossibly private and hidden. As David Rosand tells us, the house of the Doge is a carefully constructed narrative of the glory of Venice. Venice was constructed to be construed. That is why when we talk about the Renaissance in Venice Catherine and I insist on the many languages that were spoken, written and heard in the street of Venice. The language of power can still be detected in paintings, inscriptions, and texts. But Venice was also the “city without walls” that hosted communities and languages from all over Europe. It was the print industry hub of early modern Europe. It was the main thoroughfare for political ideas and commercial exchanges. Obviously, such an extraordinary flow of water, language and ideas preoccupied the Venetian oligarchy, which tried in many ways to regulate the use of languages (especially bad language) – think of the rule that prohibited people from gathering in public Venetian spaces to discuss dangerous political ideas. These Renaissance banned groups were called ‘ bozzoli ‘ (silkworms) ‘a knot or crue of men or good fellows, so that it be not underfoure and exceede not the number of sixe’ (John Florio, 1611 Italian Dictionary). Despite this anxiety, Venice was (and still is) an incredibly rich cultural space awaiting to be rediscovered, interpreted and, most importantly, lived.

This brings me to the title of this blog: ‘ Ocio ciò ‘ in Venetian means ‘look out’. That is what Venice reminds us to do every time we dock there: be on the alert, look for the infinite meanings of the public, private, social, representational, and physical spaces of Venice and all the bridges of the city (with the past, present and future) will become your imagined and lived space. And if the tourist-ridden gondolas are too distracting, let us burn the gondolas, as Marinetti suggested, and look at Venice as we rarely see it .

Translating the imagery of confetti and bomboniere

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 21:33:00 GMT

Weddings are, by all accounts, something of an extravaganza in most cultures, but the trappings are certainly not universal. What to do, then, when common features of the Italian celebratory tradition, confetti and bomboniere , appear out of context or in extended, metaphorical uses in a novel that needs to be translated into English? This is the topic of the latest instalment in my occasional series on my experience translating Nicola Lagioia’s 2010 novel Riportando tutto a casa .

To be clear, there aren’t any actual weddings at all in the novel, but confetti and bomboniere come up a few times in striking similes and metaphors that rely on an understanding of what these items look like and the cultural practices and meanings associated with them.

First there is a reference to a teenage girl invited for the all-important Sunday lunch at her wealthy boyfriend’s family home. She does all the right things, ‘agghindandosi come una bomboniera’ and bearing gifts of wine and flowers, but the whole thing is an excruciating disaster ‘dall’antipasto alla frutta’.

Now, there’s a strip of Sydney Road in Melbourne where every second shop sells bomboniere but I’m not convinced they’re yet sufficiently cemented in the average English speaker’s vocabulary for me to be able to use the word in my translation without confusing my readers, causing them to miss out on Lagioia’s great image. I considered and rejected ‘dolled up’ (too old-fashioned) and ‘frocked up’ (too Australian – my brief is for an American English translation), and in any case, neither fully conveys the idea of bows and tulle and pastel and romance and general excess that the original image does. In the end I went for ‘all dressed up like a wedding cake’ – we all know what they look like.

Then there are three references to confetti , in the Italian sense of the word: those sugared almonds attached in little tulle bags to bomboniere and once again particularly associated with weddings, but also with other happy and momentous events.

As the adolescent protagonists of the novel are coming of age, discovering sex and the complexities of relationships, their taste in music moves from soppy love songs to the grey Manchester melancholy of Morrissey, and they learn to ‘essere meno ingenui e imbalsamati, in modo da poter raggiungere con stile il giacimento di fiele al centro del Grande Confetto Rosa dei nostri giorni’.

This was a tricky one. Having pushed ‘wedding cake’ around my translator’s plate for a while, taken a tentative nibble at ‘sugared almonds’, and spat out various other efforts not worth reporting here, I eventually gobbled up Rita Wilson’s excellent suggestion of ‘marzipan’ – suitably sweet and weddingy, but with that slight edge that seems a good fit with the ‘giacimento di fiele’. So in English these kids learn to become ‘less naïve and sheltered, so that we might arrive in style at the deposit of bitterness lying beneath the marzipan of our times’.

The ‘times’ in question are the 1980s, a period best forgotten from a fashion point of view. Some things are hard to forget though, so we know exactly the look Lagioia is talking about with his succinct description of these pool party guests: ‘due ragazze-confetto in tutú e fuseaux di lycra’. They become ‘two girls done up in tutus and lycra leggings like something off the top of a wedding cake’. Here I’ve had to sacrifice brevity but have hopefully conveyed something of the image (though I realize I’m also making it much more specific), as well as the narrator’s dismissive tone.

Finally, we have a reference to a distant cousin’s impending baptism, to take place ‘in una sala ricevimenti color confetto dentro la quale l’intero clan dei Rubino sarebbe stato imprigionato per tutta la giornata’.

Given that confetti come in an assortment of (usually pastel) hues, perhaps the first question to ask is, what colour is ‘color confetto’? It’s a cugin o being baptised, so I think we must assume it’s pale blue in this case. I haven’t got up to this part of the translation yet (you’re watching this in real time) but I think I’ll go with ‘a reception room decked out in pale blue, where the entire Rubino clan would be imprisoned for the whole day’. The ‘decked out’ is my attempt to replicate the sense of occasion conveyed by ‘confetto’; hopefully this effect is also helped along by the reference to the large ‘clan’ in attendance and the duration of proceedings.

Most striking to me is the author’s skill in using these culturally loaded images to bring to life the period, setting and characters of his novel. It’s not easy to carry all that across into English, so any suggestions for improvement to these translations will be gratefully received – this is still a work in progress. You can use the comment function beside this post.

Alice’s Adventures in Fascist Italy

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 13:00:00 GMT

Front and back cover of Lewis Carroll, Alice nel paese delle meraviglie , transl. by Mario Benzi (1935). Copyright Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, Florence.

When I mention the hostility faced by Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland during the Italian Fascist regime (1925-1943), people usually react with surprise. How could such an innocent, harmless tale be perceived as a ‘moral threat’ by Fascist authorities? Surely they must have been too concerned with silencing political opponents and maintaining their grip on the country to care about a naïve children’s story.

Scholars who have been studying Carroll’s masterpiece from a variety of disciplinary perspectives (including mathematics, philosophy, and literary studies) have drawn attention to the complexity of Alice , whilst also highlighting its innovatory aspects. Not only did the novel operate a remarkable shift away from the didacticism that had dominated children’s literature since its origins, but also, in portraying such an unconventional heroine, it celebrated freedom of thought in books for children. If the revolutionary potential of Alice is little known to the wide audience, this is because books for children are usually perceived as educational and/or entertaining, while their ideological dimension remains largely overlooked.

Most critics agree in recognizing Alice as the first example of modern children’s literature, that is, literature written to charm and amuse child readers, rather than merely indoctrinate them. At the time of its publication, Alice strongly diverged from the tradition of didacticism which informed the mainstream of English children’s literature; Carroll had created a highly unconventional female protagonist, who questioned authority and displayed great intellectual curiosity. Furthermore, as a world constructed through nonsense and parody of social norms, Wonderland revealed the arbitrary nature of social conventions, first and foremost, language.

However, the reasons behind Fascism’s hostility towards Alice are not immediately obvious.

While the central role played by censorship and propaganda in Fascist regimes is commonly known and accepted, the impact such ‘twin weapons’ had on children’s literature has been explored very little to date. In particular, while the political indoctrination of children is well-known and studied, the ways in which Fascism dealt with foreign children’s literature has received almost no scholarly attention. This is surprising if we consider that the translation of children’s books and journals was a flourishing business during Fascism, and that the regime had issued specific measures to limit and contrast such foreign influences on Italian children. My study of the unfavourable reception of Alice in the context of Italian Fascism has two main objectives: to reveal the political implications of writing and translating children’s literature, and also to bring attention to the little-studied phenomenon of translating books for children during Italy’s Fascist dictatorship.

Going back to our main question, why was Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland so strongly condemned by Fascist institutions?

In October 1938 Fascist intellectuals and educators gathered in Bologna for a unique event in Italian history thus far: a National Conference on Youth and Children’s Literature. The conference, which aimed to regenerate Italian children’s literature according to the values of Fascism, also had important symbolic significance as it revealed the regime’s influence on every aspect of Italian culture. In this context, a session was devoted to the translation of children’s literature, a widespread phenomenon that threatened the totalitarian ambitions of the regime. The list of foreign books for children that were considered unsuitable for Italian young readers included classic works such as Alcott’s Mary Poppins , Kipling’s The Jungle Book and Michaelis’ Bibi .

Intellectual Nazareno Padellaro had particularly harsh words for Alice , which he claimed to be pervaded by a ‘Atmosfera da incubo che […] finisce per deformare quel senso plastico delle cose e quindi quel giudizio obiettivo di esse che è il dono innato di tutti gli Italiani […] in cui gli oggetti, più ancora delle persone sono sotto l’azione del cloroformio. Le bestie non parlano con arguzia come nelle fiabe. Nessun personaggio riesce a recitare una poesia […] Se lo spirito anglosassone ama simili ebbrezze, non si comprende perché si dovrebbe ad esse iniziare il nostro fanciullo, che per disposizione di spirito piega all’obiettivo tutto quello che tenta di rarefarsi nel sogno. (‘Nightmarish atmosphere […] which ends up distorting that concrete understanding of things and therefore that natural objectiveness, innate faculty of all Italians. […] where objects, even more than people, seem to be under the effects of chloroform. Animals do not talk wisely as in fairy tales; nobody succeeds in reciting a poem. If the Anglo-Saxon spirit loves a similar state of inebriation, one does not understand why we should propose it to our children, whose national spirit bends to rationality anything that rarefies into dreams’). [i]

Padellaro’s criticism reveals how the reasons behind the Fascist disapproval of Alice lay in its foreignness, as well as in its being a work of ‘dangerously imaginative’ and unrealistic fantasy. Both these elements were blamed for their power to corrupt and intoxicate young Italian minds. Moreover, the other aspects mentioned above that made Alice revolutionary at the time of its publication, also made it utterly incompatible with the notion of ‘Fascist literature for Fascist children’ promoted by the conference participants.

Following the conference, a series of censorship measures were issued against children’s periodicals that published foreign (and especially American) comics. Compared to that of magazines, the censorship of books for children was less overt and was manifested in subtle ways; despite not being withdrawn from the market, none of the books mentioned at the Bologna Conference was retranslated between 1938 and the fall of the regime. Besides being obviously excluded from the school curricula, these books also received negative reviews in the most authoritative manuals on the children’s literature of the time.

However, when the Conference took place, a number of translations of Alice were already circulating, two of which had been published prior to Fascism (one in 1872 by Teodorico Pietrocola-Rossetti, the other in 1908 by Emma Cagli). During the Fascist rule, two further translations came out in 1931 and 1935, by Maria Giuseppina Rinaudo and Mario Benzi respectively.

When examining the two translations produced during the 1930s as part of my PhD thesis, I was interested in addressing a number of issues: first of all, was the hostility towards Alice already visible in the translations that were carried out before the Bologna Conference (1938)? Second, if so, why was Carroll’s novel retranslated twice?

The short answer to the latter question would be that, despite Mussolini’s totalitarian ambitions, Italy remained an open-market economy, where publishers had to compete on the international scene. In particular, since at the time the majority of Italians could read French, Italian publishers were eager to provide translations of those books that already circulated in a French version. By the time Mussolini came to power, Alice was already regarded as an international classic and translated into most living languages. Therefore we can assume that the multiple Italian translations of Alice were largely motivated by financial considerations. In this context, translators had to negotiate between numerous and often conflicting demands: while, on the one hand, they had to comply with professional norms, and produce a satisfying translation, on the other, they were likely avoid all those topics that could have been perceived by the regime as controversial or offensive.

With regards to the former question, I carried out a textual and contextual analysis of the two translations, with the purposes of a) identifying the strategies employed by translators when dealing with a text that did not find an equivalent in Italian children’s literature; b) assessing the extent and the degree of Fascist influence; c) highlighting the differences between the two translations, which were published at very different phases of the regime.

For the purposes of this post, I will offer some examples from the two translations published in the 1930s. This will show how the Italian translators, although working within a common cultural and ideological framework, adopted different strategies that produced different outcomes.

At a first glance, both translations appear as fairly literal: the original is not abridged, and both versions attempt to reproduce the communicative clues of the source text. However, through small, almost imperceptible changes, the character of Alice and the ultimate value of her adventures in Wonderland are completely distorted.

How is this achieved?

The most significant changes occur at narratorial level, that is to say, in the relationship between the character and narrator. According to Barbara Wall, one of the most innovatory aspects of Alice lies in the fact that Carroll was writing for a real child and about a real child. [ii] As a consequence of this, child readers are never patronised or lectured by the narrator, who is keen on amusing them and stimulating their imagination.

While adopting different narratorial strategies, both Benzi and Rinaudo distort the original relationship between narrator and protagonist. As a result, the brave and intellectually curious protagonist of Carroll’s novel is replaced with an emotional, confused little girl, lost in a terrifying Wonderland.

In Rinaudo’s translation we can find several instances where the narrator refers to Alice as ‘la fanciulletta’ (‘the little girl’) or ‘la bimba’ (‘the girl’), where in the original we find a more neutral ‘Alice’, only very rarely replaced by ‘the child’. On the one hand, we should consider that in Italian , reiteration by means of repetition is usually avoided for stylistic reasons. On the other hand, we cannot overlook the patronizing effect of the diminutives used by Rinaudo, which emphasise the adult-child asymmetry so carefully avoided by the original narrator. A similar naming strategy is applied to other characters; for instances, the cat Dina becomes ‘la gattina’, [iii] (‘the kitty’) ‘pig’ is translated as ‘maialino’ [iv] (‘piggy’), and so on.

The translation produced by Benzi also gives evidence of a change in narratorial stance, this time expressed mainly through the manipulation of speech acts. We can find a clear example of this at the beginning of the novel. The original: ‘and what is the use of a book’ thought Alice ‘without pictures or conversations?’ [v] is translated by Benzi as: ‘e Alice non poteva capire che gusto ci sia a leggere un libro senza dialoghi né illustrazioni’ [vi] (‘Alice could not understand how one can enjoy reading a book without dialogues or illustrations’). The change is particularly significant, since it contradicts what Alice is saying about the importance of dialogues in books. Similarly, in other instances, Alice’s think-aloud processes, which in the original break the monotony of a single narrative perspective, are replaced with more traditional narrative forms, as in the following example, where ‘“which certainly was not there before” said Alice’ [vii] is translated as ‘Alice n’era certa’ [viii] (Alice was sure of it). As a result of the shift from direct to indirect speech when reporting Alice’s thoughts, the translation by Benzi restores a conventional, omniscient narrator, who silences the voice of the child protagonist.

In addition, both translations show several instances of ‘optional explicitation’, [ix] where Italian translators have explained or uncovered layers of meaning that were intentionally obscure or implicit in the original. The didactic approach adopted by Benzi and Rinaudo significantly differs from the original narratorial perspective, especially if we consider that Carroll’s novel was not fully comprehensible to its original readers, nor was it meant to be. We could argue that the fascination exerted by Alice lies precisely in its strange mixture of familiar and unfamiliar, and in the disturbing transformation of the familiar into the uncanny. This last aspect is especially evident in the parody of moral didactic poems and nursery rhymes, where the incoherent language of nonsense was aimed at creating an echo of familiarity. By offering ‘alternative’ versions of well-known poems that children were required to learn at school, Carroll also offers a parody of official education, since the moral content of the poems is lost in nonsense .

In the Italian versions, as a result of the literal translation of poems and cultural references, the double level of meaning is lost, together with the comical/parodical effect. A clear example of this can be found in the parody of the opening line of one of the best-known English nursery rhymes, ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’, turned by Carroll into: ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you’re at!’. [x] When the Hatter asks the protagonist whether she knows the song, Alice replies ‘I’ve heard something like it’. [xi] Benzi renders this passage as:

“Vola, vola, pipistrello! (Fly, fly, bat)

Dio sa che cosa fai!” (God knows what you are doing)

La conosci questa canzonetta? (Do you know this little song?)

Mi pare d’aver già udito qualcosa di simile (I might have heard something similar) [xii]

While in Rinaudo’s translation we read instead:

“O pipistrello, scintilla, scintilla (Twinkle, twinkle, bat)

Come vorrei sapere ciò che tu fai!” (I would like to know what you are doing)

– Conosci forse questa canzone? (Maybe you know this song?)

– Ho udito qualcosa di simile – osservò Alice (- I have heard something similar – said Alice) [xiii]

We can see how the literal translation of the original poems and nursery rhymes also breaks the identification between the reader and the protagonist, who claims to have heard ‘something like that’ before.

Finally, it is worth considering how both translators dealt with the ending of Alice . The confusion between dream and reality, which plays a key role at the beginning of the story, is eliminated in the final pages, where the novel is clearly inscribed in the communicative frame of a dream. [xiv] As argued by Schwab, ‘The fiction of a completely alien and nonsensical world is thus mediated by a familiar framing perspective’, [xv] which seems to restore a more conventional narrative mode. In both the Italian versions, the initial and the final transitions between dream and reality are translated quite literally, maintaining the ambiguity of the original. However, the two translations show a significant difference in the closing paragraph where, following a shift in focalization, Alice’s sister is imagining her as a grown-up woman.

We read in the original:

… and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago. [xvi]

Which Rinaudo renders as:

E la vide raccogliere intorno a sé altri bambini, a cui farebbe scintillare gli occhi raccontando curiose novelle, forse anche il sogno del Paese delle Meraviglie di tanti anni addietro. (And she saw her gathering about her other children, and make their eyes bright by telling them curious tales, perhaps even the dream of Wonderland of many years ago) [xvii]

While Benzi translates:

E la vide donna matura in mezzo a bambini tutti intenti, con occhi pieni di meraviglia, perché lei, la mamma, raccontava una storia, forse quella del suo sogno straordinario di tanti anni dianzi, una mamma sempre memore della sua infanzia…(And she saw her as a grown up woman, surrounded by children intently listening to her with their eyes full of wonder, because her, their mother, was telling them a story, perhaps that of her extraordinary dream of many years ago, a mother who still remembers her own childhood) [xviii]

The ambiguity of the original ending with regard to the relationship between Alice and the ‘other little children’ is resolved differently by the Italian translators. Rinaudo portrays Alice as a story-teller rather than a mother, thus situating the heroine in a very different position. Such a scenario recalls the words of the protagonist who, in realizing the exceptional nature of her adventure, says: ‘There ought to be a book written about me, that there ought! And when I grow up, I’ll write one’. [xix]

Benzi’s version leads to the opposite interpretation, where the protagonist is portrayed as a mother surrounded by her children. The ideological connotations of such a choice cannot be overlooked, especially if we consider that none of the previous Italian translations had presented Alice as a mother. Fascist ideology promoted a strong cult of motherhood, which permeated both the rhetorical discourses and legislative policies of the regime.

By projecting an image of the protagonist as a future mother, we could hypothesise that the translator is trying to restore a more acceptable gender role for Alice. This could also be the result of a requirement on the part of the publisher, concerned about making the text acceptable in the eyes of the regime, at a time when the official campaign against translations was particularly intense.

In this respect, we can see how the novel’s ending exemplifies the differences between the two translations. Benzi’s text was especially influenced by the totalitarian ambitions of the regime, which had become more visible in the second half of the 1930s. On the other hand, by portraying the female protagonist in an authorial position, Rinaudo seems to be less influenced by the regime’s rhetoric and ideological requirements. The difference could also be motivated by the gender of the translators, and by Rinaudo’s own career as a writer and a translator, but the mystery surrounding her identity makes the hypothesis difficult to prove. [xx]

The two Italian translators also had a very different ‘professional status’ and reputation with readers. While Mario Benzi was an incredibly prolific translator during the years of Fascism, who had translated, between 1929 and 1941, more than 90 books from English, German and French, Giuseppina Rinaudo’s name was unknown to readers when her translation of Alice came out in 1931. This obviously generated different expectations, both from readers and from cultural authorities. Valerio Ferme has pointed out how occasional translators differ from professional translators, [xxi] in the way the former are not as dependent on patronage as the latter, therefore they can afford to be more experimental and challenge existing norms. Although Rinaudo’s translation is not particularly creative, especially if compared to the translations published before Fascism, her version does not comply with the notion of ‘Fascist children’s literature’ outlined at the Bologna Conference. On the other hand, Benzi’s translation, although avoiding any clear reference to Fascism, shows a greater degree of ideological affinity with the regime.

In conclusion, it is interesting to point out how, by turning fine parody and sophisticated nonsense into ravings and ramblings, the Italian translations of Alice seem to validate the Fascist claim that Carroll’s novel could not possibly appeal to the ‘rational’ and ‘stable’ Italian mind. At the same time, the very fact that Alice was retranslated twice during Fascism is significant in itself and sheds light on the mechanisms of cultural production during the regime. After the Second World War and fall of Mussolini, Italy experienced a boom in the number of translations of Alice that were published, and Italian translators have been rising to the challenge of retranslating Carroll’s masterpiece until the present day.

Imagining Poverty 1220-1520: An interdisciplinary research project

Mon, 04 Feb 2013 08:32:00 GMT

Poverty was a much-debated concept in the medieval period. Was lack of access to basic material prosperity a condition of shame, to be avoided, or was it an evangelical ideal of detachment from the material world to be pursued by all who followed the Gospel? Were groups like the Franciscans and Dominicans (who, in theory at least, survived by begging and alms) laudable, or were they selfishly diverting resources from the genuinely needy?

Funded by the Australian Research Council, the Order of Friars Minor and the Order of Preachers, the research project Imagining Poverty: conceptualising and representing poverty and the poor in mendicant inspired literature, preaching and visual art 1220–1520 brings together scholars from Monash University, the MCD University of Divinity and the University of Western Australia. The goal of the project is to explore the various ways in which poverty was understood in literature and visual art inspired by or responding to the mendicant religious movement in the period 1220–1520. Analysing preaching and didactic literature in both Latin and the vernacular, as well as visual art, it considers poverty as an influential but polyvalent concept in late medieval society, with a special focus on Italy, England and France.

The project brings together distinguished Franciscan medievalist Fr Campion Murray ofm, a specialist on the literature of Spiritual Franciscans, with specialists on medieval thought (Constant J Mews), preaching (Peter Howard), visual art (Claire Renkin), French and English vernacular literature (Jan Pinder and Anne Scott) and manuscripts (Anna Welch, the team’s research assistant).

The Imagining Poverty project members will present their current research in a series of dedicated sessions on Friday 15 February at the upcoming ANZAMEMS conference , hosted by Monash University (12–16 February 2013). They will be joined by international experts including Sylvain Piron (Institut de Recherche et d’Histoire des Textes, Paris), Sharon Farmer (University of California) and Nicholas Terpstra (University of Toronto).

For more information on the Imagining Poverty project, including other upcoming talks, publications and events, please contact Anna Welch: anna.e.welch@gmail.com.

Cultura, caffè, calcio: the Monash Prato experience

Sat, 02 Feb 2013 10:54:00 GMT

La curva Fiesole, 2 December 2012

A colleague of mine once told me that I was the odd one out. It was early one evening, about mid-way through my first semester of tutoring, and I was having a bit of a vent because my students weren’t as engaged as I had hoped they would be. ‘Remember’, she said, ‘you can’t expect them to be as interested in it as you are…it’s what you do.’ It made perfect sense to me then, and ever since I have tried to be mindful of the fact that a good teacher/tutor/mentor/whatever must always consider the complexities of keeping their students engaged. Surely having a happy and interested student is half the battle…right? Whilst this may be a strange place to start a post on five weeks spent assisting forty-five students explore the Renaissance in Tuscany, there was definitely a lesson in those words that resonated.

Prato is a small town about twenty minutes by train from Florence – that is, twenty minutes if the trains are running on time, and if they are making their scheduled stops that day. The stereotypes regarding the idiosyncrasies of Italian public transport are more than just stereotypes. In the last decade or so Monash University has built up its presence in Prato to the point where it now runs a successful Centre out of a beautiful old palazzo right in the middle of the historic town. Students from Monash, indeed from all over the world, travel to Prato to complete intensive subjects, ranging from history to music to law. The Monash history department runs two such undergraduate courses in Prato, alternating each year between Dante’s Medieval World and The Renaissance in Florence . This time around it was all about the fifteenth century (mostly) and the wonders of that oft-debated period, the Renaissance.

Obviously if you’re interested in history, particularly the late medieval or early modern periods, there are few places better than Florence to immerse yourself for five weeks. The city stands as a sort of museum, an interactive gallery containing some of the most famous examples of western art and architecture. At the same time, Florence is a living urban landscape that breathes with all of the life you will find in any Italian city. It is exciting, it is inspiring, but it can also be overwhelming. There is literally too much to see and absorb in a single trip; many academics have spent entire careers trying properly to understand Florence and its subtleties. Add to this a demanding curriculum that asks students from the very first day to read not only the art, architecture and literary texts of Florence but also the physical spaces of the city itself, and you have a mix that can very quickly cause even the best student to feel lost and very quickly feel like they are disengaged from the course. In short, it is hard work and if you let the whole experience get on top of you, in my opinion, you are in big trouble.

Whilst I am by no means an expert, after three trips to Florence I feel I can offer at least a little piece of advice for tackling this particular challenge of studying history in Italy. It might seem somewhat simplistic, but the best I can come up with is jump right in and have a go. Try and do it all. Drink four coffees a day standing at a bar and have a chocolate pastry for breakfast, talk passionately with your hands, drink wine at lunch (even if you have work to do later), get dressed up on a weekend afternoon and take on the crowds of la passeggiata (an absolute must!), and attend a Sunday Mass in one of the big basilicas, even if you’re not Roman Catholic. Going with the flow in Italy is an amazing experience and I have no doubt any student will only be advantaged by diving right in. You will thrive in the excitement rather than drown in the chaos.

With this in mind, on this last trip I stumbled across the ultimate modern Italian cultural experience guaranteed to make anyone crack a smile. Take thirty-five students, a cranky coach driver named Marco, and a drizzly Sunday evening after a long day-trip to Pisa. Add 24,000 locals, the Stadio Artemi Franchi, and a football match between ACF Fiorentina and UC Sampdoria . The result was well worth the effort. Indeed, this little adventure was without question one of the highlights of the trip, and personally, one of my most cherished memories of Italy. For those that have never been to a Serie A game, next time you’re in Italy do your best to get a ticket. Even if you’re not a sports fan, I guarantee you will be blown away by the experience.

It was cold and wet, and the thought of the 9am lecture on Monday morning was tough. The carnival atmosphere outside, however, and the passion of the Fiorentina fans inside were more than adequate compensations. The Viola sing their song with gusto before the match, and don’t really stop singing until the end. Their ability to chant in unison is more than impressive. I have no idea how they continuously wave flags so huge for almost two hours, but none of us was surprised when the flares went off after Stefan Savić scored Fiorentina’s first goal. It was a massive shame when the match ended in a 2-2 draw. Nevertheless, until you have stood in the curva Fiesole , or any home-team curva for that matter, you are missing out on a little slice of modern Italy, and from the smiles on the students’ faces on the bus home and at the post-match debrief at the local pub, I’m pretty sure their memories of the evening are as happy as my own. Even Marco managed a grin.

Detective in love

Fri, 01 Feb 2013 08:22:00 GMT

My friend and crime fiction enthusiast David Moss has recently wondered about the ways detectives are embedded in key social relations: their parents, families, and girlfriends. He commented that most of the fictional Italian sleuths he knew were males and had a troubled relationship with women. Indeed, following a tradition of the hard-boiled novel, most Italian investigators don’t have a stable partner and are often victim of the stereotypical femme fatale. Pinketts’s Lazzaro Santandrea happily swirls from one woman to another

(but he still lives with his mum). In “Il mistero di Mangiabarche” Carlotto’s Alligatore has a dangerous encounter with Gina who reveals herself to be a professional killer and a psychopath. In “Ragionevoli dubbi” Carofiglio’s Guido Guerrieri has an affair with a client’s wife. Even our beloved Inspector Montalbano cheated on his girl-friend Livia in “La pista di sabbia”. Undoubtedly, the detectives’ private life has become increasingly important in contemporary crime series and is now a vital element in creating addiction. However, this parade of “mammoni”, immature, insecure and womaniser sleuths makes me think: do these detectives tell us something about Italian society? Do we have the sleuths we deserve? What do you think?

La Panna oltre la Panna: la Panna Cotta

Thu, 31 Jan 2013 08:22:00 GMT

In questa mia rassegna ed elogio della panna nella cucina italiana non posso esimermi dal dedicare un post alla crème de la crème, o meglio alla panna delle panne, la Panna Cotta.

Imprescindibile fine pasto nei menu di tutte le pizzerie e trattorie italiane (è ammesso, chiaramente, il derogare alla scelta del dessert pannoso se per primo si sono ordinate penne&panna ) è uno dei dolci al cucchiaio italiani per eccellenza, e senza dubbio una delle tanto declamate “opere d’arte che tutto il mondo ci invidia” – insieme, naturalmente, al suo inseparabile compagno di banco nei suddetti menu, il tiramisù (che pure ha come principale ingrediente un derivato della panna, il mascarpone). Del resto, come vuole il detto lombardo, “la buca l’è minga straca se la sa no de vaca” (la bocca non è stanca se non sa di vacca, vale a dire di latte), la cui interpretazione dominante rimanda all’idea che un pasto come si deve richiede di essere concluso con del formaggio, ma che si può applicare senz’altro anche alla panna, e alla panna cotta in particolare.

La panna cotta è dunque la prova inconfutabile che scardina definitivamente l’idea che la panna sia un alimento esotico non facente parte della “nostra tradizione”. In effetti, tanto radicata è l’idea che la panna non c’entra niente con la cucina italiana – e tale egemonia dei puristi dieta-mediterannei nella cultura culinaria italiana – che io stessa, rimasta per oltre vent’anni nella erronea convinzione che la panna cotta avesse origini francesi (e da dove altro potrebbe venire un dolce al cucchiaio a base di panna e ricoperto di caramello, se no?), avevo tardivamente appreso della sua indiscutibile italianità solo grazie ad una coinquilina spagnola (la quale, di fronte al mio stupore, bizzarramente citava a sostegno dell’inequivocabile origine italiana della panna cotta il fatto che “cotta” sia scritto con la doppia t, lasciandomi ancora più perplessa).

La panna cotta è, ci raccontano i libri e i blog di cucina, facilissima da preparare con pochi, semplici ingredienti naturali. Tanto facile che non ci sono scuse per comprare quelle orripilanti panne cotte nel banco frigo del supermercato o quelle tristissime buste contenenti inquietanti “polverine” da addizionale alla vostra panna fresca per trasformarla in una mattonella bianca artificialmente aromatizzata. Tanto facile da preparare, quanto… difficile da ribaltare, però (si noti come, dopo svariati esperimenti falliti, i fotografi collaboratori dell’autrice di questo post abbiano infine deciso di desistere dall’impresa e presentarla in tazza).

La giusta quantità di gelatina (per non parlare degli altri addensanti) necessaria per sorreggere la panna cotta senza che questa frani, si liquefaccia, gelatinizzi perdendo la sua pannosità o sia esteticamente compromessa da una patina traslucida alla base rimane evidentemente un segreto che i pasticceri esperiti si tengono ben stretto. Il che, appunto costituisce un’ottima scusa per continuare ad approvvigionarsi delle imbarazzanti panne cotte confezionate o in bustina del supermercato, che del resto ci ricordano tanto le amate (anche se un po’ sintetiche) panne cotte pizzaiole della nostra infanzia.

A ‘Contrappasso’ against the decline in literary publishing

Tue, 29 Jan 2013 08:51:00 GMT

We called our publication Contrappasso Magazine , after the punishments meted out to souls in Inferno and Purgatorio : the equal, opposite and meaningful responses to the wrongs committed. The title suggests an Italian focus and the journal has already made some strong Italian connections, but its outlook is international. We have published work not only from Italy but also from the USA, Britain and, of course, Australia. Translations are welcome, and in this second year we hope to expand the range of original languages (Spanish, Chinese, German, French, Japanese, Russian…). Even so, amidst an enormous variety of subjects, the Italian element has kept coming back, and particularly Italy’s sense of being loaded with legacies, ancient and recent, which the present must negotiate in order to recognise itself.

Pip Muratore researches fin-de-siècle decadence in Italy and France, but the two poems of his in Issue 1 meditate on what it is left of that epoch today: the grand palaces silent and empty, full of museum pieces and ghosts, the mad flourish extinguished. “Vittoriale – house of shades” meanders through the former home of D’Annunzio, observing details which, bereft of the wild mind that assembled them, can never again combine into a coherent whole, and now simply hover, haunting each other.

Likewise haunted is a Neapolitan chapel in “Where Moderns Have No Myths” by Lindsay Tuggle, originally from the southern USA but now living south of Sydney. Lindsay’s poems are made from loosely connected fragments which seem to speak into space, but which accrue into eerie masses of possibility and presence. “Where Moderns Have No Myths” evokes those figures entombed in glass caskets beneath gilt altars. A dislocated whisper tells us to prepare for take-off (into the afterlife?) and to note the nearest exits, amid an unsettling sense of simmering madness. The flowers, votive offerings and polite directions keep repeating themselves, day after day. Death is this hanging around.

To live out what history demands is a driving force of the poetry of Paolo Fabrizio Iacuzzi, who featured in Issue 2 in translation. His style exercises the Italian language’s capacity for brevity, with the poems accruing as collages of abrupt clauses. The effect is tense and urgent, each phrase bringing home the visceral sense of being personally involved in the moment. Beginning with a recollection of September 11, 2001, in which the terrorist attacks are the background to a diagnosis of serious illness, Issue 2 then presented two suites of poems dwelling on the frailty of the individual in violent cycles of history. In “ Atlante senza nome del giardino ,” irises in the family garden stand as memorials to the fallen at Dachau, while “ Il soldato Beslan ” is a tender but shaken reflection on the massacre in a Russian school in 2004. This poetry is a challenge to take a distant crisis personally.

The darker places in the Italian spirit of course have their happier, sensual opposites, and these appeared in Issue 2 via the poetry of Luke Whitington. Luke lived in Italy for more than twenty years restoring ancient buildings. “San Faustino di Bagnolo, A Story of Strange Incidents” is a large-scale poem that narrates Luke’s first and most involving restoration job, rebuilding a medieval monastery in Umbria, which he discovered, abandoned and derelict, while hiking – and which then followed him long after he had moved on, turning up on the labels of mineral water bottles and in pictures on the walls of Irish fish-and-chip shops. The past clings tight but also embraces warmly: the poem “Venus in Rome” hints at the intimacy growing between strangers while exploring magnificent ruins. These are fresh pictures of Italy’s attractiveness to outsiders, of the magnetism that draws so many of us back.

The outside eye is a major feature of the poetry of Paolo Totaro, which has appeared in both issues of Contrappasso so far. Paolo writes ‘away from’ Italy more often than ‘towards’ it: originally from Naples, he has lived in Australia since the 1960s, bringing an Italian eye, ear and voice to Australian impressions and experiences, expressing the confusion but also the curiosity of a migrant navigating the new environment. Issue 1 featured several of Paolo’s poems in Italian and English, including a triptych inspired by his home suburb of Balmain, depicting local figures – eccentric, elderly, some homeless – who are now themselves outsiders. With confident empathy, Italian offers some insight back to Australia.

All these descriptions add up only to bits and pieces. Most of these poets are also represented in Contrappasso by work on other subjects, to say nothing of the variety of other poets and prose writers, but it is remarkable how quickly the Italian presence in the journal has focused so much of the larger culture. In poetry, Italy gave Contrappasso a lucky start – and the title means there will always be something Italian in the journal’s DNA.

Il giorno della memoria

Sun, 27 Jan 2013 03:27:00 GMT

Moni Ovadia nel suo “Il dovere di ricordare. Riflessioni sulla Shoah” parla di “un crimine perpetrato dall’ottusa normalità del consenso”. Ecco, credo che tutti quanti noi dobbiamo giornalmente lottare contro quell’ottusa normalità che è in noi, semplicemente perche’ siamo responsabili di quello che ci accade intorno.

Una placca sul muro di Auschwitz legge:

“solo quando nel mondo a tutti gli uomini sarà riconosciuta la dignità umana, solo alllora potrete dimenticarci”.

Ne abbiamo di lavoro da fare prima di dimenticare… Purtroppo.

Nel frattempo vi segnalo alcune novità editoriali:

Robert S. C. Gordon, Scolpitelo nei cuori. L’Olocausto nella cultura italiana (1944-2010) (Bollati Boringhieri, pp. 345, €27) – con recensione di Marco Belpoliti

Marco Paolini, Ausmerzen – con video su youtube

Bruno Maida, La Shoah dei bambini. La persecuzione dell’infanzia ebraica in Italia 1938-1945

Claudio Vercelli, Il negazionismo. Storia di una menzogna

Fieldwork in Italy Survival Kit

Thu, 24 Jan 2013 04:21:00 GMT

Having recently returned from a four-month research trip to Italy, I’ve been reflecting on my experiences in the hope that my own mistakes might save other researchers who, like me, are just starting out, both time and frustration:

Further reflections…

On interviewing research subjects:

When you’re using human research subjects, regardless of their professionalism it’s difficult to avoid them having human responses to you and your questions. Try to read them to understand where the boundary is that you shouldn’t cross if you don’t want to risk engendering hostility; if you have a risky question, save it for last! Otherwise, subjects’ responses to your remaining questions may be compromised and you risk damaging your rapport with them (which can have consequences for both the honesty of subjects’ responses and their generosity with their time). I was aware that one of my questions was borderline, and in the end only felt I was able to ask it (at the conclusion of the interview) of a small number of research subjects who demonstrated to me that they would be inclined to respond honestly.

On research relating to anti-mafia legislation in Italy:

As a very preliminary observation specific to my own field, it would appear that generalizing results about the consequences of anti-mafia legislative initiatives from a specific mafia association of Italian origin to mafia associations of Italian origin generally, is problematic – not only because of the differences between the mafias, but also because of the differences in prosecutorial approaches to managing the tools provided by the Italian Parliament to combat organized crime.

*All of the foregoing was based entirely on my own personal experience and may not be applicable in all cases. Please add your own tips to this list!

“I am going to change the world, or die trying”: Valerio De Simoni

Mon, 21 Jan 2013 09:56:00 GMT

After Valerio’s death his cousins discovered in his room the diaries that he had been keeping from 2006 until 2010 when he started his fatal trip. With the title Real love … for the turning world they were published last December in English and Italian, and launched in the same week in Sydney and in Rome. (Copies can be found here ). A copy has also been sent to the Archivio Diaristico Nazionale in Pieve Santo Stefano near Arezzo. This very interesting institution has collected about 7000 diaries, autobiographies and letters written by ordinary people from the end of the 18th century to today. The travel diary that Valerio kept on his last journey, to be published in due course, has also been sent to the ADN where in 2013 it has been entered in the annual competition, the Premio Pieve, for the works received during the year.

Valerio’s diaries are interesting because they give the reader a look into the mind and world of a young, generous person who is entering adulthood, and because they are written in two languages. Although English is his main language, every now and again Valerio turns to Italian, even within a single entry. And Italian is the main language that he uses for his poems.

For Valerio, Italian is not only his mother-tongue, but – and I think that this is very important – a father language as well. Italian is the language that he uses in his poems to talk to his father Giancarlo who died when Valerio was very small.

The verses which he addresses to Giancarlo remind me of Foscolo, who described as celestial our ability to talk to the cherished dead: “ una corrispondenza d’amorosi sensi ”, a lovely and a holy gift to man.

Valerio had certainly this gift:

Come faremo senza un altro incontro? Troppo tempo. Poco. Pochissimo.

Io ti voglio bene.

Sto con te sempre e viceversa.

Ti sento nel mio cuore come il sangue che pulsa

la mia mano destra; che impugna la tua

vecchia Aurora, scrivo per te. Per noi due.

The fountain pen, ‘ la tua vecchia Aurora ‘, that Giancarlo wrote with and Valerio now uses is the tangible means of his constant communion with his father. He is proud to share the practice of writing with him, and by writing Valerio is identifying with Giancarlo.

One theme recurs often in the diaries: his deep sense of gratitude for the life and love which were granted to him. Thanks to Vittoria, his exceptional “mother courage”, and the friends she was and is still able to gather around her, Valerio received a real sentimental education, something which is rather unusual nowadays. This education allowed him to be close to his emotions and to express them, and this can be clearly perceived by the reader of his diaries.

Having lost his father when he was two and having seen other people die too young, Valerio was particularly sensitive to death, which he often mentions in his diaries. With this delicate sentence he takes leave of Patricia, a family friend, as she was passing away: “I looked deep into her soul through her magnetically beautiful eyes as she smiled with all her wisdom, compassion, and gratitude of her life and mine”.

Valerio was particularly sensitive to the pain of loss and the sentence addressed to Diana, Giancarlo’s mother, sounds sadly prophetic:

Diana.

Che amore che hai per tuo figlio – perduto

Quale grande dolore è perdere il proprio figlio.

These diaries bear witness to the life of a very sensitive young man who is aware that life is transient, and perhaps for this reason he is deeply in love with it.

As Gino Moliterno rightly remarks in his introduction to the diaries, Valerio savoured life as much as he savoured food, which he often mentions. Food is always associated with pleasure and he was conscious that by eating well he was respecting his body. He finds a joyous image to express the importance of healthy food: “ Poi mi sono divorato la mia zuppa biologica fatta di patate, zucca, cipolle e aglio ricevendo un bell’applauso dalla mia pancia ”. Food is also associated with memories of meals with his family and friends, as it belongs to the convivial Italian culture that he treasured so much.

Valerio is not with us any more, but in his diaries he left us the memory of a young man who enjoyed every moment of his life, immersing himself in nature, fighting for the environment, enjoying the company of his relatives and friends, travelling, or tasting a healthy soup, all in a simple and spontaneous way.

I will conclude with an exclamation which recurs frequently in the diaries: “ Che bella la vita ”. And towards the end Valerio writes: “ Vita. Che bel viaggio .” This declaration sounds ironical now, but let us remember that his fatal trip was an expression of his vitality and humanitarian commitment.

How do Italian film-makers see China?

Sat, 19 Jan 2013 14:22:00 GMT

16th century portrait of Marco Polo (1254 – 1324)

China has rapidly become the world’s second largest economy, and most of the clothes and shoes we wear, the mobile phones and computers we use, the bicycles we ride today are made there. However China’s cultures and peoples are still largely unknown or misunderstood in Western societies. Italy may be seen as a symbol both of the positive relations of China with the West (an embassy sent by Rome reached China as early as 166 AD, and the legacy of Marco Polo and Matteo Ricci is still thought highly of by the Chinese) and of the misunderstandings which have occurred in the relations between these cultures. Hence the way Italy and Italians identify China, its people and its culture, might be seen as a “litmus test” of their perception by Western countries.

If we add two further considerations, that film makers are intellectuals who interpret the feelings of society, and that, as David Bordwell argues, films are created to have an impact on audiences and speak to their imaginative needs, it then becomes particularly interesting to analyse how China has been represented by Italian directors who have shot films there since 1949 (the year the People’s Republic of China was proclaimed).

In fact, Italy can be considered a forerunner also in this particular field. Carlo Lizzani shot the first Western full-length documentary film in the PRC ( La Muraglia Cinese/Behind the Great Wall , 1958); and in 1972 Michelangelo Antonioni was the first Western filmmaker to be invited by the Chinese authorities to shoot a documentary in the immediate aftermath of the Cultural Revolution ( Chung Kuo – Cina , 1972). In 1982 Giuliano Montaldo directed the Marco Polo TV series, which was partially shot on location in China, and in 1987 Bernardo Bertolucci directed The Last Emperor , which follows the life of Puyi through his youth as a child-emperor to his adulthood as a prisoner. Finally, Gianni Amelio’s La stella che non c’è/The Missing Star (2006) tracks the journey of an Italian technician through modern industrial China. Such films, particularly those set in contemporary China, show how the perception of that country in half-a-century has changed. It has shifted from an initial rather “blind” adherence to Maoism and the idea of a “New Man”, created by the revolution as an alternative to capitalism and Soviet communism, to disenchantment with the new economic superpower in the years of Western de-industrialisation and economic crisis.

That is a brief outline of my current research project. In order to tackle these issues, from a methodological point of view, I find it necessary to consider the social and historical background in the two countries and to explore what kind of understanding of China actually reached Italy between the 1950s and the 1970s (when travellers to China – some of whose diaries it will be useful to analyse – were mainly ideologically-based and lacked a proper knowledge of that culture). I shall then assess how Maoism was perceived in the late 1960s and early 1970s (I am currently looking for literature on this issue) and what impact the economic growth of China had on Italy. After examining that background, I will concentrate on the single films, from their genesis to their cinematic analysis, and I will analyse how their representation of China fits into the general idea of the country at the time they were shot.

Such an analysis could of course be expanded, but my aim is to take the first step in a still unexplored area of intercultural and interdisciplinary analysis – something I feel increasingly necessary in today’s globalised world.

La legge è uguale per tutti…or is it?

Wed, 16 Jan 2013 05:28:00 GMT

Upon hearing that Italy’s Constitutional Court has today released the reasons for its decision on the conflict between the powers of the President and the powers of Palermo’s Office of Public Prosecutions, the first thing that came to my mind was that comforting phrase inscribed on all Italian courts of law: ‘ la legge è uguale per tutti’ (a maxim of such importance it is even given a constitutional guarantee in Article 3 of the Italian Constitution).

The conflict at the centre of the case arose after Palermo’s Office of Public Prosecutions inadvertently intercepted phonecalls to President Giorgio Napolitano while tapping ex-Minister Nicola Mancino’s phone as part of their investigations into the trattativa Stato-Mafia (four conversations with Napolitano were intercepted, and their content was deemed by the investigators involved to be innocuous). The Court had already determined (back in early December 2012) that conversations and other communications of the Italian Head of State are endowed with absolute confidentiality and cannot be intercepted, but only today has it released the 49-page elaboration of its reasons (see: http://www.cortecostituzionale.it/actionSchedaPronuncia.do ). According to the Court, article 90 of the Constitution and article 7 of Law 219/1989 forbid any wiretapping (even indirect) of the President’s conversations, except in cases of high treason or an attack on the Constitution: article 90 provides the President with a partial immunity, absolving him of responsibility for acts undertaken in the exercise of his functions (save the two above exceptions – high treason or an attack on the Constitution), while according to the Court, article 7(3) of Law 219/1989 ( New norms on ministerial crimes and crimes contemplated by article 90 of the Constitution ) absolutely forbids the intercepting of the President’s telephone conversations or other communications without the Court’s prior permission.*

The Court held further that ‘far from constituting an “inadmissible privilege” […] infringing upon the principle of citizens’ equality before the law, the immunity in question [that contained in article 90] is instrumental to the carrying out of the high-level tasks the Constitution demands of the President’. Though the Court’s statement seems to suggest the contrary, the fact that some immunity is granted and may be instrumental to the President’s functions does not ipso facto render that immunity consistent with the principle of equality of all citizens before the law. The argument has been rendered deceptively complicated, but at its core is a simple, straightforward logic: either the law is the same for all, or it isn’t. If Tizio and Caio’s telephone calls can be intercepted legally, but the President’s cannot, then the law is not the same for Tizio and Caio, and the President: Tizio and Caio are subject to the law, but the President is above it. To pretend otherwise is to make even more of a mockery of the maxim than has already been made over the last two decades. It would seem that Beppe Grillo said it best when he declared that the law isn’t the same for all: it’s the same for all the others.

* Prima facie it looks as though there may be a question of interpretation concerning whether Law 219/1989 is even relevant to the circumstances of the case: given that both the title of Law 219/1989 and the title of the Part of it cited by the Court clearly state that they apply only to the crimes contemplated by Article 90 (high treason and attack on the Constitution), their application should arguably be limited to investigations into those crimes rather than investigations generally.

THE PRINCE AT 500

Sat, 12 Jan 2013 09:04:00 GMT

The second – Of Loves and Ladies, Knights and Arms: the Renaissance Effect – will be held at the University of Sydney on February 25, 2013, with the sponsorship of the Istituto Italiano di Cultura, Sydney, and the Power Institute. Details of the programme, speakers and location are available here . Further symposia will be held at the UCLA Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies in Los Angeles, From Earthly Pleasures to Princely Glories in the Medieval and Renaissance Worlds , on May 17-18, 2013 and at the Istituto Italiano di Scienze Umane (SUM) in Florence, Machiavelli e l’Italia , on June 13, 2013.

Il Pannerone (o Panerone)

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 12:00:00 GMT

Proseguiamo con il filone “la panna e i suoi derivati” (per la serie non di soli pomodori vivono gli italiani) parlando del Pannerone, formaggio lombardo a rischio di estinzione.

Il Pannerone è infatti un prodotto locale che più locale non si può: ne esiste un solo e unico produttore artigianale. Naturalmente, in quanto prodotto caseario che rischia di scomparire, il Pannerone ha il suo inevitabile presidio slow food . Tuttavia alla riscoperta di questo singolare formaggio non sembrano crederci troppo neppure loro, stando alla non particolarmente lusinghiera descrizione che ne forniscono: “un sapore tendente all’amaro che in un altro formaggio potrebbe essere considerato un difetto, mentre in questo è il carattere specifico del prodotto. Il contrasto dolce-amaro e l’assenza di sapidità lo rendono un cacio difficile, antimoderno.”

Amaro, insipido e difficile : “il formaggio più insulso del mondo” secondo una mia conoscenza dai gusti evidentemente dozzinali, “deve piacere” secondo un altro giudizio più ponderato, il Pannerone conta comunque, ad oggi, 40 like (incluso il mio) sulla pagina facebook dedicatagli da un anonimo ammiratore. Ignorato dalle masse, il Pannerone può infatti vantare un nucleo di estimatori che ne apprezzano il gusto peculiare (sempre grazie alla pagina del presidio slow food apprendiamo che è l’unico formaggio italiano non sottoposto ad alcun procedimento di salatura).

Nel mio spudoratamente campanilistico intento di allargare questo gruppo di conoscitori e far apprezzare questo prodotto locale in patria e nel mondo, assicurandomi così una perdurante possibilità di rifornirmi del formaggio negli anni a venire, ho approfittato dei festeggiamenti stagionali per propinarlo ad alcune ignare cavie, sottoponendole ad un test organolettico di cui riporto qui l’esito, nella speranza di reclutare nuovi entusiasti consumatori.

Certo l’inizio non è stato dei più incoraggianti:

“Non ha molto sapore, direi gli manca qualcosa” (brava, il sale…), “si, sembra amaro, poi alla fine sembra gli manchi qualcosa, ma non sai cosa”…

Le considerazioni successive però permettono di apprezzare l’interesse del prodotto:

“è stranissimo, quando lo metti in bocca ha come un gusto morbido, poi diventa spigoloso”, “l’impatto è un po’ controverso, è come diviso in due, come il viola, un po’ blu e un po’ rosso: è sia amaro che dolce, non si capisce” (che siano le mie cavie ad essere particolarmente inclini alla sinestesia o che sia un merito attribuibile consumo di questo formaggio?… quando lo assaggerete mi farete sapere).

Infine, sono stati però tutti concordi nel volerlo assaggiare di nuovo, e di nuovo ancora. Dato che, se non altro, “ti viene voglia di riassaggiarlo perché non l’hai capito”.

O forse perché, come suggerisce il nome, dopo tutto il Pannerone deriva pur sempre dalla panna…

Mazzini and love

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 08:00:00 GMT

The Italian Risorgimento was an event that crossed national and gender boundaries, arousing enthusiasm and garnering support well beyond the peninsula and from women as well as men. Nowhere was this enthusiasm and support stronger than in Britain with its

Giuseppe Mazzini 1805-1872

centuries-old fascination with Italy. When Garibaldi, not only a hero of Italian unification but also the world’s first international celebrity, visited Britain in 1864, an estimated 500.000 people lined the streets of London to greet him. But it is not Garibaldi who is the subject of my research, undertaken in an ARC-funded project on ‘ La Bella Libertà : Women, Freedom and the History of Italy’ with Barbara Caine and Glenda Sluga.

My focus is on Mazzini and on the network of devoted supporters he created in Britain, composed of British nationals, Italian exiles and Italian residents in Britain, and particularly on its members who were women. This network comprised Mazzini’s most faithful and unswerving followers, the true believers.

My exploration of Mazzini’s relations with his women disciples is based on a view that at its core the Mazzinian Risorgimento is the story of real emotional relationships among people. It is framed both as a contribution to Mazzini’s biography, to the contextualisation of living and teaching and to what Paul Ginsborg has described as the connections among cultural formation, private life and political action, and as an exploration of the role of love and its vocabulary in the making of political networks and movements. It also contributes to the history of the women’s emancipation movement. Through his close contacts with his British mostly independent and emancipated women followers, Mazzini’s sympathy for and appreciation of women and their aspirations developed into his becoming, alongside John Stuart Mill, one of the major proponents of women’s rights in the mid-19th century. In turn through their involvement in Mazzini’s cause, the women were given – or took – opportunities to participate in political activity and play roles that were not available to them in domestic politics.

In 19th century political movements it was above all Mazzini who, in search of the bonds that would transform the denizens of the Italian peninsula into citizens and bind them together in a democratic republic of equals, wrote, spoke and proselytised in the rhetoric of emotion, love, family and friendship as well as religion. His republican, democratic, independent and morally regenerated Italy was to be sustained by the bonds of fellowship and love; and he famously described his own patriotism in the vocabulary of love and family: “ Sono fidanzato all’Italia e basta ”. It was through love that loyalties and identities expanded beyond the family to encompass the nation and then humanity. And at its centre, Mazzini’s political movement was a family, a clan, a network of men and women who were linked together not only by belief in Mazzini and his humanitarian message but by close ties of love, family, kinship and friendship with the Maestro and each other.

Love and family were as essential to Mazzini’s living as they were to his teaching. Growing up in a predominately female family where he was the only son, preceded by two sisters and followed by another, Mazzini was the subject of a very intense relationship with his mother. Maria Drago Mazzini gave her son his messianic sense of mission and supported him morally and materially until her death. She was the confidante with whom he shared his political and private life, the mother to whom from exile he wrote every week.

The adult Mazzini valued women, indeed, in his own words, esteemed them more than men. Others, too, noticed that he was most at ease in the company of women. His letters show an empathy with them, the capacity to share in their sorrow and be a source of comfort, a keen interest in their activities and a strong desire to be included in their world, to be in their confidence, to share their secrets, a deep need for close loving relations with women. He was also, as attested by skeptics as well as his disciples, a man of great personal magnetism, beautiful with suggestions of androgyny, brooding, intense, charming and carrying the aura of martyrdom.

If love was central to Mazzini and the realization of his vision so too was religion. He saw himself primarily as the teacher of a new religion, one without dogma or hierarchy, a religion of duty, of mission, of liberty, a religion that would lead to the moral regeneration of Italy – and of humanity. The mid-1830s were very difficult years for Mazzini, his movement in Italy in tatters as was his relationship with fellow patriot in exile, Guiditta Sidoli, widow of another patriot. Both Mazzini and Sidoli portrayed the end of their intimacy in terms of duty, mission and self-sacrifice, hers for her children, his for the patria . And it was as the self-sacrificing martyr who was giving up home as patria and private life and who expected to live and die alone that Mazzini arrived in England in 1837. This sacrifice was made by a man who, as one of his women disciples observed, was “the most domestic man I ever knew, a man whose love, whose longing to cling to home and family were beyond all others, and yet it was these things that he had precisely denied himself”.

In time in London Mazzini recreated, first in the Ashurst family and then in the Nathan Rosselli clan, surrogate families, and with the women a group of “ sorelle amorose ”. These men and women became his most devoted followers, accepting the primacy of religion in his message, totally identifying the man and his cause and perceiving him as one who lived in complete consistence with his doctrines. For a number of the women he was more than a man, “ a divine essence’, a “Holy light”, the ”Man of Sorrows”.

Mazzini argued that the bonds of love and friendship were the same but the women did not always necessarily see it this way and some may have hoped for relations with him beyond loving friendship. In their competition to be of service, to be if not a wife then the bride of Christ, the women do bear some resemblance to twentieth century groupies. But to regard them as such would be a gross disservice to their high sense of duty and mission, their contribution to Mazzini’s cause and their roles in the development of feminism.

Only a foolhardy researcher would comment with any certainty about the absence of a private sexual life; and although rumours circulated in London at the time suggesting there were dents in his purity, there were none in his public image. But the longing for romantic attachment did not abate as shown in some of his letters to Caroline Stansfeld, the wife of one of his major British backers:

‘Bless you my evening star. I am always with you: it is my only, often sad, still dear support and consolation in this dreary discouraged life of mine.’

And it came to the fore with intense and romantic passion when he was old and ill, his Risorgimento in ruins, in his little-known relationship with Janet Nathan Rosselli, the 24-year-old daughter of Sara Nathan and the wife of Pellegrino Rosselli, another of his backers.

‘Do not fear for me. I will take care because of you and my hope of seeing you again. I kiss you with all the power of my soul, I am too affected to say more… Addio my Janet. I am yours on this and the other side of the sepulchre…’

The man who feared he would die alone passed away in the Rosselli house in Pisa and in the arms of his ‘dearly beloved’ Janet. Mazzini’s death was not the end of the Rosselli commitment to his vision of a republican and democratic Italy and what Maurizio Viroli calls his religion of liberty and duty. Janet Nathan Rosselli’s nephews, Carlo and Nello, are the best-known martyrs of the anti-Fascist movement.

Mazzini’s British women disciples helped greatly to publicise his cause as translators, writers, collectors and preservers for posterity of his letters, publishers, workers for his schools, public speakers as well as financial backers and couriers. But their work in creating and nurturing social and political networks should not be relegated to the private, domestic sphere. Nor should the political aspects of the love and support they provided Mazzini be ignored.

Hard-Boiled Ladies Beware. Reflections on a performance of La Mandragola

Mon, 07 Jan 2013 08:44:00 GMT

Machiavelli in Oxford: performing La Mandragola (1956) By Permission of the Warden and Fellows of Merton College, Oxford.

Just a few years later, in Melbourne, at the annual camp of the undergraduate History students, La Mandragola was also the reading for the weekend. Amongst that group gathered together in 1962, was the late Bill Kent, Jaynie Anderson, and Dale Kent – all names very familiar to those working in Italian Studies in Australasia.

It seemed particularly appropriate for me personally, then, that the finale to an event I organised a fortnight ago at the University of Melbourne, should be a public reading of La Mandragola , this time in a translation by Guido Ruggiero and Laura Giannetti . Alas, we had no Frawley Becker to design our costumes, in fact we had no costumes at all, nor had we even rehearsed.

Machiavelli in Melbourne: reading La Mandragola (2012). From l.to r. : Stephanie Trigg, Dale Kent, Charles Zika, Ersie Burke, John Gagné, Nerida Newbigin, Andrea Rizzi, Una McIlvenna.

But there was something enormously satisfying, intensely enjoyable, about sitting around in a group and reading a play with a plot at once so ludicrous and yet deeply revealing about the sexual mores and gender expectations of its day. There were also amusing performances: John Gagné as Callimaco; Andrea Rizzi as Messer Nicia; Charles Zika as Fra Timoteo; Stephanie Trigg as the parasite; Dale Kent as Siro; Nerida Newbigin as Sostrata, and so on. This play reading was the culmination of two wonderful days, co-sponsored by the ARC Centre of Excellence for the History of Emotions , and by my own School of Historical and Philosophical Studies here at the University of Melbourne.

Under the overall theme of 'Pleasure, Desire and Greed in the Renaissance', the event began with a public lecture by that great expert in Renaissance sex and desire, Guido Ruggiero himself. Guido is Professor of History at the University of Miami, and author of texts that for me in my own postgraduate days and beyond, were game changers, works that uncovered the most basic passions of Renaissance Italians: their lusts, their violence, their loves, their love potions, their ideas of normal and abnormal sexuality: Violence in Early Renaissance Venice (1980); The Boundaries of Eros: Sex Crimes and Sexuality in Renaissance Venice (1985); Binding Passions: Tales of Magic, Marriage and Power from the End of the Renaissance (1993); Machiavelli in Love: Sex, Self and Society in Renaissance Italy (2007), are just some of his many highly engaging and enthralling books. In typical style, Guido chose as his subject for the night a cliché of the Renaissance; the man renowned, whether justly or unjustly, for his shrewd scheming, his obsession with the political, the ultimate virile man of the Renaissance – Niccolò Machiavelli – and presented him to us instead as a wimp. His lecture, ‘Machiavelli the Wimp: Mocking One’s Emotions and Self-Presentation in the Renaissance’, can be heard here .

Passion, lust and greed continued as themes into the next day where we had a seminar by Laura Giannetti, also of the University of Miami, in the Department of Modern Languages and Literatures. Laura researches culture, gender and sexuality in early modern drama and theatre and has a particular interest in food culture and the literary imagination. Her book Lelia’s Kiss: Imagining Gender, Sex and Marriage in Italian Renaissance Comedy was published in 2009, and some of the evocative titles of her articles give you some idea of her approaches: ‘Of Eels and Pears: A Sixteenth-Century Debate on Taste, Temperance, and the Pleasures of the Senses’; ‘ Ma che potrà succedermi se io donna amo una donna?: Female-female desire in Italian Renaissance Comedy’; ‘Renaissance Food-Fashioning or the Triumph of Greens’, and so on. Laura spoke about ‘Food, Gluttony and the Senses in the Renaissance Imagination’ and revealed to us the rise and rise of the sausage in culinary reality and literary imagination of the period.

We then had a series of workshops with texts and images pre-circulated to participants: Guido Ruggiero on ‘Imagining Sex Pleasure and Blasphemy in Boccacio’s Decameron '; John Gagné (University of Sydney) on ‘Three French Kings and the Imagery of Desire’; Una McIlvenna (University of Sydney) on ‘Capons, Cuckolds and Concupiscence: Scandalous Desire at the Early Modern French Court’; and myself on ‘Depicting Lust in the Sacred Spaces of Italy’. Finally Nerida Newbigin, Professor Emerita at the University of Sydney, spoke on ‘The Pleasure of Plays in Renaissance Florence’ as a prelude to our play reading. It was appropriate that Nerida should speak for us as she herself has produced a translation of La Mandragola.

The two days provided further evidence of the rich worlds uncovered once you start to tap into the emotional discourses of the past. There were remarkable intersections between the research of all participants, in particular relating to the associations between the consumption of birds and heightened sexual appetites. Of all emotions none is more elemental than sexual desire, unless, perhaps, it is the desire for food. Not surprisingly the link between gluttony and lust by Renaissance preachers was a common one – the former commonly being seen as a prelude to the latter. Both are to do with unregulated passion; unregulated desires. But this link was also a common thread in dietary manuals and medical prescriptions of the day. Birds were seen as hot and dry, as inflamers of sexual appetites, and only to be consumed in the normal run of things by men and elite men at that. If there was a message from the day it could perhaps be summed up as ‘beware the chicken – caponised or otherwise’.

The trattativa Stato-mafia: an introduction

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 10:40:00 GMT

In the blistering Sicilian sun I sit, together with hundreds of students, awaiting the arrival of Antonio Ingroia who this morning* will participate in a public conversation as part of the Festival della Legalità (a week-long event held annually in Palermo). Behind me a group of boys scans the piazza and the palazzi towering above it for would-be assassins, keen to protect a man who has become, for many, a national hero.

As Ingroia enters the piazza the students break into applause; he takes to the stage flanked by two agents from his security escort, and the conversation with journalist Riccardo Lo Verso begins. At Lo Verso’s first question Ingroia, with a discourse mighty in its linearity and clarity, slices through decades of modern Italian history, focusing on Italy’s experience of organized crime, corruption and, in particular, the trattativa Stato-mafia . Below is a synopsis of Ingroia’s description of what prosecutors allege constitutes this trattativa :

To frame the historical context we need to go back to 1992, when the Christian Democrat Salvo Lima (acknowledged to be the politician who maintained relations with the mafia and was the symbol of the pact between it and politics in that period) is assassinated. Lima’s death follows the Court of Cassation decision confirming the convictions won as part of Falcone and Borsellino’s maxiprocesso, which the mafia perceived as evidence of a failure by that part of politics which had protected it, and maintained a mutually beneficial relationship with it, until that moment; it therefore killed the man who represented the relationship between it and the state.

Lima’s assassination sparks panic in the political world, particularly amongst those politicians who fear being condemned to the same fate. At this point, some politicians who feel at risk from the mafia try to exploit their political power to understand if they are to be assassinated, and whether it is possible to avoid this open war – whether it is possible to negotiate a new pact. But the mafia continues with the slaughter. A few months later it kills Falcone: this spurs on panic within the state, and especially in the world of politics. Borsellino forges ahead with intransigence, fighting for ever-stronger laws against the mafia – and some of the laws he agitates for are passed.

But behind the scenes, some politicians continue to negotiate with the mafia. Contacts are developed in particular with Vito Ciancimino. Ciancimino, mafioso and ex-mayor of Palermo, was the man who was best able to act as an interface between the mafia and politics and open a dialogue, to let the mafia know that there is a part of the state disposed to negotiating and asking the mafia what it needs to stop the slaughter. News of this, according to various ‘pentiti’, arrives at the boss of bosses of that time, Tot ò Riina, who prepares the so-called ‘papello’ (a long list of requests made by the mafia of the state – some feasible, others not).

The negotiations continue at a distance (there is never an in-person meeting between the mafia bosses and the state’s representatives) before an agreement is arrived at – a verbal agreement which leads to the mafia abandoning its plans to kill certain politicians. But because not everyone is willing to negotiate with the mafia the agreement works only in part, and so some mafiosi continue killing. Borsellino is assassinated because he is an obstacle, and then in 1993 the mafia changes strategy and decides to strike outside Sicily: there is the attack on television presenter Maurizio Costanzo, then the bombs in Florence, and then the bombs in Rome and Milan.

In the midst of all this, there are some politicians who continue to negotiate with the mafia; suddenly some progress appears to have been made when in 1993 article 41 bis (establishing a rigorous penal regime for those imprisoned for particular crimes, including mafia crime) is loosened and some mafiosi are spared it, despite adverse recommendations from prosecutors. This negotiating-at-a-distance continues until 1994, when a new pact is concluded.

On 1 October 2012, the historic trial arising from this alleged trattativa opened with twelve mafiosi , politicians, and representatives of the state’s institutions and armed forces facing charges: five mafiosi are charged with threatening the state, five politicians and institutional representatives with complicity in threatening the state, another with complicit mafia association and another with perjury. Ingroia has promised that from Guatemala (where he has accepted a year-long post with the United Nations) he will elaborate on “certain things” which he has not yet been able to in relation to the trattativa , because he will feel less like his hands “are tied”. We will await with great interest what else it is that he has to say.

*The event took place on 4 October 2012

Ricordando Rita Levi Montalcini

Tue, 01 Jan 2013 12:45:00 GMT

Rita Levi Montalcini, c. 1975.
Image courtesy of the Bernard Becker Medical Library, Washington University School of Medicine. Wikimedia commons

Luciana d'Arcangeli writes ...

Sulla scia del Nobel andai a sentir parlare Rita Levi Montalcini, a Roma, tanti anni fa. Ero giovane e quando la vidi mi chiesi cosa ero andata a fare lì io che non avevo accettato la borsa di studio per studiare biologia marina a Sarasota nel lontano ’83 e che avevo rinunciato al sogno di studiarla a Parigi proprio nell’86, scorata dalla proposta di legge Devaquet. Quando la vidi, già fragile, in compagnia della sorella Paola, con quella sua pettinatura così “secolo scorso” cercai la porta – troppo lontana – e mi preparai ad annoiarmi.

Non disse una sola frase sulla fisiologia, sulla medicina, sulla ricerca, credo, ricordo che parlò dei giorni, settimane, mesi passati chiusi in casa a “giocare” con le uova perché sperimentare era quello che voleva fare, anche se non le era permesso dalle leggi razziali dell’epoca. Il contenuto sarebbe già bastato ma la soddisfazione che leggevi negli occhi e traspariva sul volto felice era un messaggio che non si poteva ignorare allora come ora.

Ho sempre invidiato chi, già da piccolo, sapeva cosa fare da grande o chi, come Rita Levi Montalcini, fosse stato folgorato da una passione sulla via di Damasco, o instradato da un grande maestro. Lei fu testimone di una malattia e capì di voler studiare medicina ed una volta arrivata agli studi trovò un grande maestro: Giuseppe Levi. Non credo sia un caso che siano stati insigniti del Nobel tre suoi studenti: Luria, Dulbecco e Levi-Montalcini – o che sua figlia diventasse poi la scrittrice Natalia Ginzburg. Durante il suo discorso Levi Montalcini lo ringraziò, convinta, nonostante lui fosse scomparso da più di venti anni. Commovente, anche se mi chiesi con un pizzico di irritazione su quale albero crescessero questi maestri…

Non ci fu tempo per annoiarsi: parlò di Mussolini, della ricca America che l’aveva benvenuta, del suo rientro in Italia, del diventare vecchi lasciando spazio ai giovani ma, soprattutto, parlò dell’essere donna in un mondo di uomini, del suo desiderio di vedere le donne riconosciute per i loro meriti e la loro intelligenza, di vedere più donne nei laboratori, a capo dei laboratori, al governo. Sgomitai tra la folla per poterle stringere la mano, nella ridicola speranza che il contatto fisico mi miracolasse. Ridicolo? Si, ma la mano dolce e sicura, asciutta e generosa fu anch’essa una lezione.

Anni dopo mi capitò di lavorare come traduttrice per la sua Fondazione EBRI – European Brain Research Institute – e dai documenti traspariva un’etica che riconoscevo come profondamente sua. La sua frase “il corpo faccia quel che vuole, io sono la mente” l’ha vissuta fino all’ultimo. Anzi, il suo “corpo” l’ha figurativamente “donato” alla ricerca quando per il suo centenario si è messa al centro dell’attenzione per ottenere l’8 per mille degli italiani a favore della sua fondazione. Se le ragazze di oggi cercano un esempio femminile da seguire non credo debbano guardare oltre.

Grazie, Rita, da parte di tutte.

ANZAMEMS: 9th Biennial Conference, 12-16 February, Monash University, Melbourne

Tue, 25 Dec 2012 09:18:00 GMT

Stained Glass window, Basilica de la Sagrada Familia, Barcelona.

The Australian and New Zealand Association for Medieval and Early Modern Studies (ANZAMEMS) is holding its Ninth Biennial Conference on 12-16 February 2013 at the Caulfield Campus of Monash University in Melbourne. The theme of the conference is ' Cultures in Translation ' in order to explore the many varieties of translation at work in medieval and early modern studies. Papers will deal with diversity and change in areas such as language, culture, religion, space. They will examine how medieval and early modern cultures understood translation and how modern scholars make disciplinary, linguistic and social translations in their work.

The keynote speakers are: Chris Baswell (Columbia University), Anne Dunlop (Tulane University), John Najemy (Cornell University) and Charles Zika (University of Melbourne). You can find the full conference programme here .

ACIS Cassamarca scholarship award for 2013

Fri, 21 Dec 2012 10:47:00 GMT

Many congratulations to Daniel Canaris (PhD, University of Sydney) who has been awarded the ACIS Cassamarca Scholarship for research in Italy in 2013. His project will investigate the extent of Giambattista Vico’s involvement in the doctrinal controversy over the Chinese rites, a dispute over the continued use of Chinese ceremonies among Chinese Christian converts which engrossed all of Europe between the mid-17th and early-18th centuries. Despite its apparently narrow focus, the debate had broad ramifications, unsettling the fragile consensus reached on the relationship between paganism and Christianity. Research based on the study of original texts in Italian libraries will enable him to test the claim that by describing Confucian philosophy as “ rozza e goffa ” Vico is employing the same typology he applies to Greco-Roman myth – afforded a pivotal role in his teologia civile ragionata – and is therefore surreptitiously rehabilitating the role of Chinese cultural practices and beliefs in the designs of Providence.

Remembering Gianni Brera

Wed, 19 Dec 2012 18:40:00 GMT

Gianni Brera, unknown author - from the Italian magazine Epoca, N. 1268, year XXVI, p.43.

The twentieth anniversary of the death in a road accident of Gianni Brera – gioânnbrerafucarlo, as he sometimes signed himself – was commemorated today by the newspaper for which he worked for the last ten years of his life, La Repubblica . Born ‘a legitimate son of the river Po’ in San Zenone al Po (Pavia) on 8 September 1919, he had a very successful career as a sports journalist (he was appointed editor of the Gazzetta dello Sport aged 30), using his literary skill, creativity and knowledge to become Italy’s most famous exponent of the art. His first books were on cycling (published at the time of the rivalry between Coppi and Bartali) and athletics, but thereafter he dedicated himself to football where he became as well-known as the players on whom he wrote his countless columns.

To describe individuals and their teams, managers and their tactics, he frequently imported terms from other sports ( forcing , from boxing; goleador and incornare from bullfighting; melina from basketball) which then entered the standard lexicon of football-writing. His most famous neologism, abatino , was first used to characterise the slender genius Gianni Rivera who made his first division debut for Alessandria in 1958 at the age of 15 and became one of A.C.Milan’s stars in their glory days of the 1960s and 1970s under Nereo Rocco (interviewed here by Brera). The definition which Brera invented – ‘ omarino fragile ed elegante, così dotato di stile da apparire manierato e qualche volta finto ’ – he later applied to Italians generally.

Apart from football and friendship, his passions were the food and wine of the Po Valley on which he also wrote prolifically. La Pacciada: mangiarebere in pianura padana (1973), co-written with the wine-expert Luigi Veronelli, is a particularly enjoyable incorporation of the recipes of Old Lombardy into an autobiographical account and a cultural context which has vanished. To get a sense of the person behind the writings, the brief memoir which his successor at La Repubblica , Gianni Mura, wrote when he heard of Brera’s death on 19 December 1992, is a good place to start.

Montalbano under the Christmas tree

Sat, 15 Dec 2012 02:42:00 GMT

Barbara Pezzotti writes ...

Some lucky British TV watchers will find the Young Montalbano TV show, a spin-off of the acclaimed Montalbano series (adapted from the popular novels by Andrea Camilleri) under their Christmas trees. Following the huge success of the cinematic adventures of the Sicilian police inspector interpreted by Luca Zingaretti (whose last series has screened this year on BBC4) the British broadcast will now show the prequel – featuring Michele Riondino – on Saturday nights starting from next spring.

Camilleri’s books follow the adventures of an increasingly ageing Montalbano grappling with melancholy and regrets, struggling with an obtuse police commissioner, Bonetti-Alderighi, and fighting with an on-off girl-friend, Livia, who wants more commitment but finds it very hard to get. The screenwriters for this new series therefore had to search through a number of Camilleri’s short stories and references to Montalbano’s past in order to reconstruct a plausible character. The Italian spectators responded enthusiastically to their portrayal (more than 7 million people watched the first episode) and there is no reason why this success won’t be replicated among the Brits.

At first sight, this endeavour sounds more conservative than more audacious spin offs, such as the TV series “Bones” where the protagonist, a young Temperance Brennan, shares very little with her paper (and more conventional) version; or the TV series featuring a teenage Superman struggling with homework and his first crushes. Is that so? This operation also aims at milking the extraordinary popularity of Inspector Montalbano among crime readers and viewers in Italy and abroad. There is nothing wrong with that. But does it add anything new to the Montalbano saga? Does it provide a new perspective, maybe? Or does it offer an effective representation of Sicilian life in the 1970s before the murderous internecine struggles of the Corleonesi, the confessions of Buscetta and the investigations by Falcone and Borsellino?

In reviewing the original Montalbano TV series , James Donaghy makes a comparison between Swedish and Italian/Sicilian crime fiction. He comments that the setting is very different. Indeed, “it’s the difference between opening a freezer door and an oven door” The dissimilarity, however, is not just climatic. “There are no enigmatic silences or blank stares. Everybody says exactly what they’re thinking, loudly and often: it came as no surprise in a recent episode to find Montalbano monologuing to an empty chair, as if he were Clint Eastwood”. In an ideal struggle between Nordic restraint and Southern “operatic gestures”, as Donaghy puts it, does Riondino reiterate the muscular interpretation of the Sicilian sleuth performed by Zingaretti? Is the comic element preserved?

While the British audience will find out in a few months, viewers in the Antipodes are destined to wait for longer. So please, Italian crime fiction enthusiasts, don’t leave us in the dark. If you have already seen the series, share your thoughts with us. This will be our Christmas present.

Translating globalized popular culture

Thu, 13 Dec 2012 00:40:00 GMT

Brigid Maher writes ...

Translating cultural references can be very tricky, but some cultural references have an international reach, and the internet is making the translator’s – and perhaps also the reader’s – work easier, though also a little fragmented at times. I wrote recently about some difficulties that came up when translating snippets from Drive In , an Italian commercial television show of the mid-1980s that, according to Nicola Lagioia in Riportando tutto a casa , marked a decisive (and lamentable) change in the country’s television culture. As I work my way through the translation of this novel, set in Bari in the eighties, more and more references to popular culture are appearing. Many are far less culture-specific than Drive In though, belonging instead to a kind of shared youth culture of the West.

I’ve so far come upon references to several Marvel comics of the period, the board games ‘Risk’ and ‘Operation’, Morten Harket (of Norwegian band A-ha), Intellivision video games, pop songs and films that were the talk of the town in this or that distant summer, TV shows and movies about reptile invaders and zombies, and Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’.

Back-translating from the American via Italian.
“E adesso… Adesso vado a farmi il mondo!” in the (Italian) novel. “You know what I wanna do? Strut.” in the original American film. Working that out took quite a bit of legwork on this translator’s part!

Most days I wonder how anybody translated anything before the advent of Wikipedia. Did authors include fewer explicit references to popular culture back in the ‘olden days’ (as opposed to literary allusions, which of course have been around forever)? Or were such references simply more easily lost on readers (including translators) from other cultures or from subsequent generations, as the referent went out of fashion, leaving little record of its passing (whereas nowadays, nostalgics upload even the most banal material onto the internet for posterity)? I don’t know, but it does seem possible that before television and mass communication, there was not the same incessant ‘pioggia di messaggi’, as Lagioia calls it, filling people’s lives and memories with slogans, jingles and created images.

Either way, the shared, globalized nature of much popular culture is convenient for my readers, who, provided they’re from the right generation, will be able to recognize many of these international references. And if not, they can always google them, can’t they?

I have yet to enter the world of the e-reader but I gather these now have more and more options for looking up words and other references as you read, in the form of wiki links and the like. Perhaps we will soon be reading as active participants in a kind of web of information, where we can chase up, on the spot , anything that sparks our curiosity, without having to get up and consult a dictionary, computer or other device, because the book itself will be part of a live network. I’m not sure how I feel about this. It could certainly be useful, but I can see myself becoming a bit distracted as I leap from one tangent to the next. This is what has always happens to me with print dictionaries – I go to look up one word and end up serendipitously finding several more among its neighbours (a bit like what happens when you go to the supermarket hungry, and end up buying far more than you need… and language lovers are always hungry for new words and new ways of expressing themselves).

That’s certainly how I translate, always leaping from one site to the next. Dictionaries – monolingual, bilingual and of synonyms – are still indispensible, but so is the internet (actually, most of my dictionaries are themselves also on the internet). I don’t think I could translate without it. For almost any cultural reference that comes up, I can easily find explanations on Wikipedia, images on Google, and clips on Youtube. If only I had consulted Youtube instead of flicking through the entire 90 minutes of Staying Alive on DVD, reaching the relevant scene – John Travolta’s immortal tight-jeaned strut through Times Square – only in the final moments! This kind of research is essential, but it doesn’t always feel like time well-spent…

In Memoriam: Guido Martinotti 1938-2012

Tue, 11 Dec 2012 15:59:00 GMT

Friends, colleagues and readers of his many works will have heard with great sadness of the sudden death of Guido Martinotti, one of Italy’s foremost sociologists and public intellectuals, on December 5 at the age of 74.

Guido Martinotti – @foto: uninews24

Born and educated in Milan, he was largely trained as a sociologist in the United States, thanks to a Harkness Fellowship which provided for a period of extended study in American universities – in his case, Columbia and the University of California at Santa Barbara where he became an annual visiting professor after 1986.

Other beneficiaries of Harkness and Fulbright awards who belong roughly to his own generation and who drew similar inspiration from what was then the primary frontier of sociology include Gianfranco Poggi, Alberto Martinelli, Franco Ferraresi and Marino Regini. Collectively they played a major role in establishing the development of sociological research in Italy, investigating the impact of modernity across the entire range of Italy’s cultural, political, religious and economic institutions.

Their research revealed the new shape of real life in cities, university classrooms, local sections of political parties and religious organisations, and factories. Their commitment to the development of both theory and empirical research was a vital element in rescuing the young discipline of sociology from the condescending hostility of many humanist intellectuals, notably Benedetto Croce who declared in 1950 that it was an ‘inferma scienza, arbitraria e sconclusionata’, without any success in Germany or Italy ‘se non presso scrittori privi di buona e vigorosa logica ossia scarsi di critica’.

Martinotti’s first research interest was higher education, in particular the social profile of university students in the wake of the liberalisation of access in 1969. In this field his publications also include analyses of the broad issues raised by contemporary forms of knowledge ( Informazione e sapere , 1992; Bisogni informativi, banche dati e territorio , 1994). His best-known publications derive, however, from his interest in the sociology of contemporary urban life and the continuing transformations of the world’s major conurbations in the wake of the economic and communications revolutions of the past twenty-five years ( Metropoli. La nuova morfologia sociale della citta , 1993; La dimensione metropolitana. Sviluppo e governo della nuova città , 1999). But, notwithstanding his essentially cosmopolitan outlook, he was also deeply interested in what was happening on his own doorstep in Milan ( Atlante dei bisogni delle periferie milanesi , 2001). As a founding member and professor of urban sociology at the University of Milan-Bicocca, established in 1998 in an area of Milan’s semi-periphery once occupied by the Pirelli factories, he was ideally placed to chart the nature of post-industrial cities and the ways in which they accommodated – more often failed to accommodate – their new inhabitants.

His interest in Milan as a product of the interaction between its political, cultural and economic élites was far from being exclusively intellectual. As the co-author with his wife and classical scholar Eva Cantarella of a school textbook on how to become a citizen ( Cittadini si diventa , 1996), he was in many ways a model for that ideal – a member of countless national and international professional bodies, architect of the 3 + 2 reorganisation of the university curriculum (he chaired the committee of reform appointed by the then Minister of Education, Luigi Berlinguer), and a penetrating commentator on public issues for Reset and Arcipelago Milano . Very many people will share the sadness of his colleague and friend Alberto Martinelli at the loss of his sane, sharp and deeply affectionate voice.

L’immancabile Panettone

Sun, 09 Dec 2012 16:22:00 GMT

Edda Orlandi writes ...

Il panettone appartiene alla sparuta ma particolarmente indigesta categoria costituita da quei dolci “tradizionali” che non si ha veramente voglia di mangiare, ma che ci si sente in dovere di consumare. Acquistati perché non se ne può fare a meno, donati da prozie tirchie, infilati in cesti aziendali, appioppati da amici poco immaginativi che, invitati a una cena pre-natalizia, si sono ricordati all’ultimo secondo che “non abbiamo niente da portare” e ti riciclano di buon grado il panettone della prozia di cui sopra (“non dovevate disturbarvi…”), prontamente riofferti in fette vendicativamente troppo generose agli incauti amici appena menzionati (perché a Natale siamo tutti più buoni): il mese che precede il Natale, molto più che per la ricerca dei doni, vede gli italiani e le italiane impegnati in una corsa a sbarazzarsi degli ingombranti pani dolci prima della fatidica data del 25 dicembre, quando dovranno rassegnarsi a consumare loro stessi quegli immancabili 3 o 4 panettoni avanzati (qualcuno in più per i meno scaltri) che si finiscono con il masticare fino a primavera consolandosi per il risparmio sulla colazione.

Per mandare giù più volentieri i panettoni post-natalizi, i milanesi hanno perfino attribuito magiche virtù preventive sui malanni di stagione, grazie all’intercessione di San Biagio, alle fette del dolce natalizio consumate nel giorno dedicato al santo (3 febbraio).

Come se non bastasse, il panettone è anche l’oggetto attorno a cui si catalizzano conflitti insanabili in qualunque tavola festiva: i difensori a oltranza della Tradizione che non transigono sulla presenza dell’uvetta e dei canditi (sia nella fetta consumata da loro che in quelle altrui), quelli che reclamano il panettone senza canditi e quelli che non vogliono neanche sentire parlare dell’uvetta, i bambini che implorano il pandoro e si convincono infine ad addentarne una fetta solo dopo averla minuziosamente scavata con i loro ditini per eliminare anche il più piccolo candito, e dopo averla spalmata di nutella sotto gli sguardi indignati dei tradizionalisti…

Un incubo, insomma, che inizia a novembre sugli scaffali dei supermercati e infesta le nostre dispense almeno fino alla metà di febbraio. Date queste premesse, il successo del panettone nel mondo rimane un fenomeno incomprensibile che forse i lettori di questo blog potranno aiutare a spiegare.

La prima volta a teatro…

Thu, 06 Dec 2012 04:08:00 GMT

Luciana d'Arcangeli writes ...

Ricordate la prima volta che siete andati a teatro? No, non le recite scolastiche o le volte che vi ci hanno trascinato controvoglia facendovi vestire da pagliaccio o quando vi hanno “ceduto” l’abbonamento perche’ assenti ingiustificati. Sto parlando della prima volta che avete messo mano al portafoglio per pagare il biglietto di uno spettacolo che volevate andare a vedere. La volta che avevate l’acquolina in bocca per l’attesa… Quella! Bene, leggendo l’articolo di Anna Bandettini su Paolo Rossi mi e’ tornata in mente proprio quella volta li’: “Le visioni di Mortimer” (Giampiero Solari), 1988. Da allora ho sempre rivisto con piacere Paolo Rossi a teatro ed anche in televisione, al cinema ed anche in DVD. Sara’ che ogni volta mi torna a formicolare la pelle con il ricordo o l’emozione di quella sera e di tutte le altre a seguire…

Il primo scoglio che si incontra nell’insegnare teatro oggi e’ che gli studenti spesso pensano di non aver mai assistito a uno spettacolo “degno” di essere discusso in accademia, ma gratta gratta tutti hanno visto uno spettacolo dal vivo e ne sono stati toccati. Proprio al ricordo di quell’emozione mi aggancio per parlare di teatro, del privilegio di cui si gode nel veder recitare qualcuno dal vivo – meglio se bravo. Uno spettacolo dal vivo ha insita un’emozione diversa da altre forme di spettacolo. Mentre scrivo ho davanti agli occhi il bellissimo ricordo di uno Shakespeare in the Park in Scozia con mio figlio piccolissimo che partecipava all’andamento di “The Tempest” camminando con e tra gli attori, rapito. E questo ricordo si lega rapido, con un tuffo mnemonico all’indietro, ad uno spettacolo di pupi siciliani dei Fratelli Pasqualino di cui non ricordo piu’ il nome… ma i pupi si’, quelli li ricordo bene! Cosi’ come il duello tra Orlando e Rinaldo per l’amore di Angelica – che secondo me doveva aver ben chiaro in testa chi volesse… Il rumore delle loro spadate si confonde nella mente con quello delle mattarellate di Pulcinella, visto la domenica mattina al Pincio con il soldino in mano da dare al burattinaio – seguito da un secondo soldino per il gelato allo Chalet. Infanzia fortunata.

Vi lascio con una delle “chicche” di Paolo Rossi che dimostra come l’altezza di una persona non abbia nulla a che vedere con la sua “statura”: “Il sogno all’incontrario” . Buon sognare!

A volte ritornano… la Pasta alla Panna

Tue, 04 Dec 2012 09:03:00 GMT

Edda Orlandi writes ...

Fino a poco fa, l’ultimo ricordo che avevo della pasta con panna era di averla mangiata nell’88 o giù di lì, preparata dalla nonna a condizione che non lo raccontassimo alla mamma. Da allora, dopo l’invenzione della dieta mediterranea, è stata retrocessa, nell’immaginario collettivo, da piatto degno di essere servito ai nipotini da nonne ben intenzionate benché non molto consapevoli sul lato della sana alimentazione, a stereotipo dell’orrore che esemplificava quanto di più insalubre ma soprattutto kitsch potesse essere immaginato (rimane memorabile la celebre scenetta di Lillo & Greg con il cameriere della trattoria “Non solo panna”, che snocciola il suo menu “penne e panna, penne panna prosciutto, penne panna prosciutto e funghi…”).

Sembrava che la pasta alla panna fosse sparita dalle tavole italiane per più di vent’anni, ma giusto l’anno scorso in questo periodo, leggendo alcuni diari delle pietanze preparate durante la settimana da parte di massaie intervistate per una ricerca di mercato, mi sono accorta che le famigerate 4P anni ’80 (Penne-Panna-Prosciutto e Piselli) spopolavano in quasi tutti, descritte come piatto “appetitoso e nutriente”. Iniziale stupore da parte mia. Dopo poche settimane mi capita di leggere il post di una temeraria food blogger che osa presentare una pasta con panna e salmone (attribuendola perfidamente alla suocera, con la scusa di renderle omaggio). La settimana successiva mi accorgo che anche sul menu dell’osteria aspirazionale di fronte all’ufficio hanno piazzato i tortellini alla panna… e da lì, nel giro di un mese, l’epidemia è dilagata ovunque: una invasione di panna sui menu pausa pranzo dei bar intorno alla circonvallazione interna di tutta Milano.

E così, ecco riabilitate, come qualunque oggetto che fu di moda e senza dubbio lo sarà ancora, forse complice il bisogno di conforto suscitato dalla crisi, anche le penne&panna snobbate dall’integralismo dieta-mediterraneo.

[NdR: questo post inaugura la discussione del cibo e della tavola, elementi fondamentali per qualsiasi analisi saziante della cultura italiana, ieri e oggi]

When in Rome do as the Romans do. But what do they listen to?

Tue, 04 Dec 2012 09:01:00 GMT

Roger Hillman writes ...

So, imagine you’re Woody Allen, about to make a film about Rome, in the wake of other takes of an outsider on Barcelona and Paris. The last in particular had lots of music, crucial for the atmosphere and the sense of history. What musical choices do you make for Rome? How much do they overlap with what Woody actually chose, especially with the song that bookends the film? What is the going stereotype of music in Italy? What point has been reached by the reception history of popular song, opera, and especially perhaps of something in between, music of Rota and Morricone? Does Italy still sing?

Another vantage point: next year is the bicentenary of Verdi’s birth. But also of Wagner’s. There’s little available that directly links them these days, but Peter Conrad’s recent book is a good start. While the conferences devoted to either Wagner or Verdi proliferate, a few weeks ago there seemed to be but one combining them, in Belgium in April… Is it still possible or meaningful to play the two off against each other?

Or does a contemporary globetrotting opera fan go for both Verdi and Wagner, unproblematically? (And maybe not even globetrot, but consume them via Opera from the Met screenings.) Does Verdi, other than with a museum-like sense of nostalgia, retain any of his Risorgimento thrust? Is he (still) regarded more highly than Rossini, Puccini, Donizetti or Bellini? Does Monteverdi sound the most modern of them all?

Beyond screenings from the Met, film is one channel for encountering classical composers, and of course home ground for the Rotas and Morricones. What is/can be achieved by citing Italian music in an Italian film? And in non-Italian film? Has it ceased to be a national marker in any sense? If your answer to that is ‘yes’, what are we to make of the brief but significant excerpts from Aida and Tosca in a very recent film, Bellocchio’s Vincere ?

Whatever you do, don’t just scratch your head at all these questions, but go wash your hair under the shower. And don’t give up singing in the shower, to perpetuate the grand narrative…

Translating humour (without being too funny)

Tue, 04 Dec 2012 01:42:00 GMT

I’ve recently been faced with an unusual challenge related to the translation of humour: how to be un funny, or rather, how to translate bad jokes and catchphrases in all their punny, cheesy glory.

Humour translation is widely considered an especially tricky undertaking and it has been the focus of much of my research until now. Contrary to what some people think, humour can be translated. It sometimes requires creativity and reinvention, but then so do lots of other areas of translation.

Puns are perhaps the most obvious challenge. The fact that they depend on linguistic happenstance means that they often undergo significant re-elaboration in translation, even between related languages like Italian and English. (Or else they just get lost altogether, at least until the next translator comes along and inspiration strikes him or her at just the right moment.)

Cultural references pose problems of a slightly different kind. A lot of what we laugh at is founded on shared knowledge and culture – a character type we recognize (Albanese’s Cetto La Qualunque, for example), a kind of behavior we have experienced or participated in (numerous scenarios in Seinfeld ), or comments by public figures (any number of berlusconate , often blurring the line between comedy and tragedy).

Usually, of course, language and culture are both in the mix, and that’s when humour translation is most fun.

So bad it’s good? That’s what I’m aiming for.

Here it is in the original Italian:

You’ll notice various changes to the literal meaning and to the numerous cultural references, all necessitated by the change in language and readership, but hopefully the effect of the two extracts is similar. What is central to this scene, for me, is its message about a particular kind of comedy and about its consumption , presented here as harbingers of an abdication of critical responsibility and reflection by an all-too-passive audience. That’s what I sought to convey in my translation.

Portelli, ‘a life in progress and the stories of oral history’

Sat, 01 Dec 2012 08:53:00 GMT

Francesco Ricatti writes ...

Alessandro Portelli recently retired from his position as Professor of American Literature at the University of Rome La Sapienza. Portelli has been highly influential in the development of oral history. Follow the link to listen his recent lecture at Royal Holloway University of London, which marked the launch of the Public History Centre . In it, Portelli highlights some of the experiences that have contributed to the development of his oral history methodology.The work for one of his most recent book, They say in Harlan County , began with an interview in 1973 and continued until the publication of the book in 2010, a reminder to all of us of the importance of longitudinal studies and the need to resist corporate (university) pressure for quick turn around in research, when such pressure might undermine quality and depth. This is a beautiful and intense lecture on the link between oral history, popular music, literature and political engagement. It is also a timely and convincing reminder of the importance of an open and humanistic approach to questions of power, hegemony, and culture. As Portelli suggests towards the end of the lecture, what two persons have in common makes a dialogue possible, but their differences make it meaningful.

Alessandro Portelli – Reflecting on a life in progress and the stories of oral history

Cosa ci dicono davvero le parole di Pierluigi Bersani e Matteo Renzi?

Fri, 30 Nov 2012 09:05:00 GMT

An interesting analysis of the language used by Bersani and Renzi in their recent television debate – a novel event in Italian politics – is reported in today’s (30 Nov) Huffington Post . I’m not sure what more general lessons we can draw from these fragments – but the differences with the kind of political language used by Berlusconi and the earlier leaders of the Left that Patrick McCarthy and others undertook are certainly striking. Adrian Lyttelton’s comparison of political language in Italy and GB, which appeared in the Journal of Modern Italian Studies (2009) 14, 1 and can be found here , also makes some intriguing points.

Re-imagining Italian Studies: Seventh Biennial Conference, Adelaide, 4-6 December 2013

Wed, 28 Nov 2012 10:30:00 GMT

Over the past decades in Australia and internationally we have witnessed major cultural, political and economic changes which have impacted on the nature and delivery of Italian Studies: the aging of first and second generation post-war Italian migrants, the retreat from more advanced multicultural policy positions, the refocussing of Australian international relations towards Asia; the arrival of increasing numbers of highly mobile Italian professionals. Recognising the changing profile and affiliations of learners of Italian in our universities and the profound contemporary cultural and technological transformations, it is timely to re-imagine Italian Studies into the 21st century.

A particular theme of the ACIS 7th Biennial Conference is therefore to consider how we can best conceptualise Italian Studies in the dynamic context of globalization. Participants are invited to address the broad theme of re-imagining Italian Studies taking account (inter alia) of the changing profile of Italian-Australian communities, Italian and Australian identities in the Asian century, the Italian diaspora, Italian as a post-colonial language and culture, the Italian cultural sphere of influence in the world, changing patterns of mobility and settlement, new technologies and engaging creatively with new generations of students across the tiers of education. Contemporary societal transformations require innovative responses.

At the same time, the organisers welcome papers from other traditionally strong fields in Italian studies, such as Renaissance literature, history and culture, where the illustration of shifts in theoretical, methodological or substantial concerns may be linked in a variety of ways to the conference theme. Proposals for Panel Sessions and/or Papers (20 minutes) within the broad areas of Italian History, Literature, Cinema, Language Teaching and Acquisition, Linguistics and Socio-Linguistics, Sociology and Anthropology including Italian Migration Studies, Italians in Australia, History of Art, Politics, Economics and Business are welcome.

Proposal forms for panels and papers, along with the details and dates for submission, are available via the Conference page .

Un nuovo blog di studi italiani

Thu, 22 Nov 2012 22:07:00 GMT

Milano: May-Day Parade. Foto Roberto Gimmi.

‘Ma se ne sentiva davvero il bisogno?’ Eccola lì la domanda inquietante, penzolare come una scimitarra sopra la testa del povero blogger. Si sentiva davvero il bisogno di un nuovo blog di studi italiani? Naturalmente la risposta definitiva potranno darcela soltanto i numeri: quanti studiosi decideranno di collaborare al blog? E quante persone gli daranno ogni tanto un’occhiata, o lo seguiranno con commovente, quasi religiosa, devozione? Per il momento posso solo dare una risposta personale, provvisoria: io sì, ne sentivo davvero il bisogno! Le ragioni sono tante, ma vorrei considerarne almeno tre.

La prima, più generale, ragione è la crisi attuale delle materie umanistiche, che sta soffocando non solo il pensiero critico su un mondo sempre più in crisi, ma anche la disponibilità ad ascoltare e comprendere l’altro. Quando per esempio quasi giornalmente sento addurre ragioni di budget per non tanto velate minacce di tagli all’insegnamento delle lingue nelle università australiane e britanniche, mi chiedo se tutti noi studiosi stiamo facendo davvero il necessario per far capire la centralità delle materie umanistiche e dello studio delle lingue nel mondo che andiamo costruendo (o dovrei forse dire ‘nel mondo che andiamo distruggendo’). Parte del nostro sforzo di restituire centralità alle materie umanistiche e allo studio delle lingue deve necessariamente passare per le nuove tecnologie di comunicazione, che ci danno un’opportunità straordinaria di esserci, di farci ascoltare.

La seconda ragione è il bisogno, credo condiviso da molti, di uno spazio di incontro e scambio fra gli studiosi di italianistica in Australia e Nuova Zelanda. Uno spazio che possa però diventare anche strumento di una comunicazione con studiosi in altre parti del mondo. Uno spazio che preservi il rigore e il valore della ricerca, ma goda al tempo stesso di una libertà e di una leggerezza che i muri delle istituzioni accademiche e la seriosità di riviste e convegni raramente consentono.

Infine una ragione personale. Riflettendo sulla Storia, come genere letterario, Milan Kundera si chiedeva che fine fa il senso del comico, non come semplice contrappunto al tragico, ma in netta contrapposizione a questo, come affermazione vitale della mancanza di senso della vita. In altre parole, si chiede Milan Kundera, perché la Storia è sempre così seria? Una ragione potrebbe essere il fatto che i politici, i generali e gli accademici tendono a prendersi troppo sul serio. Sarebbe bello, mi dico, se questo Blog potesse diventare un’occasione anche per raccontare quanto della vita e della società rimane spesso escluso dalla Storia e da altre discipline accademiche.

Italian Universities: The Unrecognised Problem

Thu, 22 Nov 2012 22:02:00 GMT

Marino Regini writes ...

La Statale (University of Milan). Photo Danilo Gioia.

As Martin Trow already noticed some forty years ago, universities in the developed world are going through different stages: from “élite institutions” to “mass universities” that allow for “generalized access” to higher education (HE). In most European countries, the main response by governments to this process has been to differentiate their HE systems. A first wave of differentiation occurred in the 1960s-1970s, as a response to the need to accommodate a mass of students with different backgrounds and ambitions: the Polytechnics in the UK and the Instituts universitaires de technologie in France served this purpose. Several Continental-European countries went as far as setting in place a formally “binary” HE system: this was the reason to create “Universities of Applied Sciences” first in Germany and The Netherlands, then in Austria, Switzerland, Belgium. A second wave took place in the late 1990s, when the competitive allocation of research funds as a result of the RAE in the UK or of the Exzellenzinitiative in Germany (soon followed by France) served the same purpose.

In Italy, on the other hand, the various governments’ response to the growing demand for tertiary education has not been differentiation, but chaotic expansion of the old élite university, required to perform new functions. Actually, as elsewhere in Europe, in the 1960s there was an attempt by the “Commissione Ermini” and the “Gui bill” to introduce a distinction between universities, entitled to issue degrees from diploma up to dottorato , and newly-established istituti aggregati , with only first-level degree-awarding powers. But this attempt failed for both ideological reasons and the opposition of non-tenured university professors who feared a career within lower status HE institutions.

So Italy has today the only formally “unitary” HE system in Europe, and the myth of a homogeneous system is still alive. Of course the quality of teaching and research activities differs widely among the almost 90 Italian universities, but they cannot openly compete for staff and students, and the degrees they issue legally have the same value. The lack of a differentiated and competitive system is the key factor that accounts for several of the most cited shortcomings of Italian universities, from clientelistic recruitment to the mismatch between curricula and labour market demands. It is also one of the most important, though largely overlooked, reasons for the rather poor performance of Italian universities in the international rankings, that no governmental reforms so far have even tried to address.

One reason for governments’ disregard of this problem is that differentiation in Italy is a politically sensitive issue because it tends to coincide with the traditionally strong territorial divide. If we take the position in these international rankings as an indicator, however poor and methodologically biased, of universities’ reputation and performance, this divide shows up vividly: out of the 14 Italian universities that are present in at least 3 of the 4 major rankings, only 1 is in the South, although Southern universities account for 31.8% of all HE institutions in Italy.

Another reason is that the prevailing ideology in both left-wing and right-wing parties tends to emphasise “good average quality” of HE institutions over “excellence” of just a few of them. Consider the position of European universities in the Taiwan ranking 2011 (less known than the others but more appropriate here because it is based solely on research performance):

This means that in Italy good scientific performance is not concentrated in a few excellent institutions (top 100), but relatively diffuse in about 1/3 of them (in the top 500).

Is a HE system that features good universities on average but no internationally excellent ones fit for a country that aims to remain among the most technologically advanced ones? It would be good if policy-makers started at least asking this question, not to say providing a satisfactory answer.

The Road to Capaci

Thu, 22 Nov 2012 22:01:00 GMT

Catherine Williams is a doctoral candidate at La Trobe University

A columnar monument has been erected on the highway, in commemoration of the lives lost. Beside it are Catholic crosses, talismans and flowers, some wilted but some fresh – a sign of the lasting impact of the massacre, 20 years on, on Palermitans. Far beyond the highway, at the base of the mountains flanking it, stands a small, white construction; it is here that those who detonated the bomb on that terrible day 20 years ago stood, smoking cigarettes as they waited for Falcone’s car to arrive. Today, black, bold text graffitied on it reads “NO MAFIA”.

To drive along this stretch of highway for the first time cannot but leave one overwhelmed with a sense of profound sadness: sadness that Falcone, his wife and three members of his security escort – like others before and after them – died in the service of a state which often fails to respect them and protect them, and for a justice which still today remains elusive.

It is a sadness which is to stay with me as I continue my research trip travelling up and down the Italian peninsula, meeting with Antonio Ingroia, Gian Carlo Caselli, Nicola Gratteri, and others similarly, extraordinarily courageous in their commitment to the anti-mafia fight. To meet these men, to have the smallest glimpse into what their armoured lives involve and to see for a fleeting moment the monumental sacrifices they make on a daily basis for this cause, is an honour. They are of course acutely cognisant of the risks they assume with their work, but that so many have had to give up their lives in the pursuit of what is right, is wrong; a wrong that is odious, appalling, and that, as I stand under this monument to Falcone, Morvillo, Dicillo, Montinaro and Schifani, traffic screaming past on this hot October day, leaves me cold.

Stay posted as I look at the lives of the heroic anti-mafia magistrates, their contexts, and related issues.

Una su tre

Thu, 22 Nov 2012 22:00:00 GMT

Eccoci, è arrivato il grande momento: la “prima” (si dirà così anche nel digitale?) di questi post sul cinema e teatro italiano a cura di yours truly Down Under . Cosa troverete qui? Discussioni, spunti e segnalazioni interessanti (spero) ma sta anche a voi partecipare per rendere il tutto più stimolante e, perché no, utile.

Il 25 novembre è la data designata dall’ONU come Giornata Internazionale per l’eliminazione della violenza sulle donne, ecco quindi trovato l’oggetto del nostro primo “incontro”.

Purtroppo, come sottolinea la giornalista Sara Ficocelli , non c’è da stare allegri, in Italia come nel resto del mondo: “E’ infatti tristemente grave il bilancio registrato anche quest’anno: 129 donne uccise per motivi di genere nel corso del 2011, 105 solo nei primi 9 mesi del 2012, e sono migliaia quelle seguite dai centri antiviolenza dal 1 gennaio al 30 ottobre 2012.” L’ultima vittima è morta stamani (21 novembre) a Verona.

Questa è solo la punta dell’iceberg, come ci rivela il Rapporto Istat 2007. Infatti, secondo Riccardo Iacona, Se questi sono gli uomini. Italia 2012. La strage delle donne (2012), “il 93% delle violenze perpetrate dal congiuge o dall’ex non viene denunciato. Solo il 6,2% delle violenze è opera di sconosciuti, mentre il resto dei maltrattanti sono partner o ex partner. Sono 6.743 milioni le donne tra i 16 e i 70 anni che, almeno una volta nella vita, sono state vittime di violenza, pari al 31,9 per cento della popolazione femminile […] E il 2006 non era l’anno della crisi” (p.124).

Il titolo del documentario Una su tre (2012) di Claudio Bozzatello è un riferimento diretto alle statistiche. Il lungometraggio, uscito quest’anno, nasceva come cortometraggio nel 2010 – anno in cui ha vinto il Festival di Bellaria 2010. Dello stesso anno anche il corto di Filippo Ticozzi Dall’altra parte della strada . Interessante notare come ambedue i cortometraggi abbiano scelto di mettere al centro della narrativa coppie di protagonisti di ceto sociale medio alto, insegnanti, laureati proprio per evitare di poter scansare queste vicende come appartenenti a non ben identificati “altri”.

Sara Ficocelli segnala moltissime iniziative a livello locale e nazionale in Italia che vanno da Bolzano a Licata. Per non dimenticare come il problema sia mondiale l’artista messicana Elina Chauvet ha portato a Milano la sua installazione Zapatos rojos (realizzato per la prima volta nel 2009 a Ciudad Juárez) costituita da centinaia di scarpe rosse da donna, a rappresentare le donne vittime di violenza in tutto il mondo, ed in particolare di quelle che sul confine tra il Messico e gli USA perdono la vita.

La violenza è strisciante. Comincia con poco, un gesto impaziente, sgarbato, una mala parola, una stretta più forte, una sopraffazione qualsiasi fino a quando, per dirla con le parole di un maltrattante, “ti si spegne la luce” (Iacona, 201). Già, come ha dimostrato uno studio condotto da Anna Costanza Baldry, non si tratta di un episodio isolato bensì, nel 70% dei casi di omicidio si tratta di recidiva.

Cosa fare? Riavvicinarci al problema, empatizzare, sollevare il pesantissimo velo di vergogna che avviluppa le vittime e non condonare MAI la violenza. Insomma, parlarne. Sottoscrivere la Convenzione nazionale contro la violenza maschile sulle donne “No More femminicidio” mandando una mail a convenzioneantiviolenza@gmail.it . Mettersi il Fiocco Bianco della White Ribbon Campaign per segnalare al resto del mondo la propria intolleranza alla violenza contro le donne. Partecipare. Perché non si spenga metaforicamente la luce sul problema in quanto, come si auspica Iacona (207), “noi tutti possiamo accenderla. I partiti e il governo, in prima battuta, mettendo la lotta alla violenza contro le donne tra le priorità dell’agenda politica. La gente, smettendo di chiudere occhi e orecchie quando si sentono le grida che vengono dall’appartamento vicino. Magistratura e forze dell’ordine, imprimendo velocità alla repressione e ai processi. La scuola, facendo in modo che gli occasionali incontri sulla violenza di genere, che per buona volontà delle associazioni e di qualche dirigente scolastico si fanno, ma non in tutte le scuole, diventino parte strutturale della formazione dei ragazzi e delle ragazze. L’informazione tutta, facendo della violenza contro le donne una grande questione nazionale, come è stato nel caso della violenza perpetrata dalla grande criminalità organizzata. Fino a far diventare tabù anche solo uno schiaffo. Per stare tutti meglio, le donne, gli uomini e i nostri figli.”

Bodies in Exotic Libraries

Thu, 22 Nov 2012 21:57:00 GMT

Recentemente è uscito un interessante pezzo su “The Guardian” dedicato alla crime fiction europea . L’autore Mark Lawson fa una panoramica di alcuni autori di gialli del Vecchio Continente (per l’Italia cita Leonardo Sciascia e Andrea Camilleri). Tra le altre cose, Lawson mette in evidenza che la narrativa può servire come una sorta di turismo da poltrona e che “[c]rime stories […] are a perfect illustration” di questa funzione. Secondo Lawson, sin da “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” di Edgar Allan Poe, come noto ambientato a Parigi, il genere è stato “regularly a ticket for a Grand Tour”. In effetti, il clamoroso successo di Stieg Larsson ha portato, per esempio, a un incremento dei viaggi turistici verso la Svezia, mentre numerosi fan di Donna Leon visitano Venezia con i suoi libri in valigia.

Come ha osservato Eva Erdmann, “given the natural desire for the acquisitions of general knowledge on the part of the reader, it is logical that a genre dedicating itself increasingly to the fictional description of local cultural knowledge should prove exciting to a wide readership” (“Nationality International: Detective Fiction in the Late Twentieth Century”, in Marieke Krajenbrink and Kate Quinn (eds) I nvestigating Identities. Questions of Identity in International Crime Fiction, 2009). Da parte loro Ellen Carter e Deborah Walker-Morrison, nel loro contributo al recentissimo The Foreign in International Crime Fiction: Transcultural Representations (2012), mettono in guardia dalla problematica credibilità di storie “ill-informed” ambientate in terre esotiche o esoticizzate.

Cosa rappresenta quindi la narrativa d’indagine? È un surrogato di una guida turistica? È portatore (in)sano di pregiudizi e stereotipi? Può invece essere veicolo di approfondimento e di acculturamento? Che ruolo giocano in questo contesto l’autore outsider e quello insider? Quali spazi e luoghi, insomma, disegna il giallo nella accezione più ampia di questo termine?

Welcome!

Thu, 01 Nov 2012 04:39:00 GMT

ACIS

Vale David Moss (1946-2024)

﻿

New Subjects and Stories of Baroque Art: Hamilton Gallery

David and Lisa write:

In Podcast: 1873–2023, Alessandro Manzoni’s Legacy

Stefano writes:

Awarded: Two ACIS Prizes, Two Notable Publications

Save the Date: ACIS 12th Biennial Conference, 3–6 July 2024

Announcing the 2023 ACIS Save Venice Fellow

Brigette writes:

Looking for Forgetting in the Archive

Matthew writes:

Two early career scholars reflect on their time as ACIS Save Venice Fellows

Lauren Murphy writes:

Julia Pelosi-Thorpe writes:

Announcing a new Chair and new team at the helm of ACIS

ACIS Postgraduate Scholarship Winners 2023

New Publication by Linetto Basilone – The Distance to China

Nerida Newbigin wins the David Moss Prize for Outstanding Contribution to Italian Studies

Launch of Natalie Tomas's Selected Letters of Maria Salviati de' Medici

New Cassamarca Appointment–Welcome Barbara Pezzotti!

Launch of the 'Italian Cinemas in Melbourne' project

Vale Lorenzo Polizzotto: 11 November 1939–22 July 2022

A Spotlight on Italian at Flinders University – Introducing Stefano Bona

New ACIS-University of Melbourne Postdoctoral Fellow 2022

ACIS Research Groups - Successful Applicants!

ACIS 11th Biennial Conference 'Frontiers, Encounters & Futures'

Special Edition of Fulgor edited by Luciana d'Arcangeli and Claire Kennedy

Breach of All Size: Small Stories on Ulysses, Love, and Venice

Jessica O'Leary: Elite Women as Diplomatic Agents in Italy and Hungary

Winners Announced! ACIS Publication Prizes 2021

'Giorgione dopo Sydney - Ipotesi di ricerca': Webinar and Roundtable

1510 IHS Maria

A dì 17 setenbrio Morì zorzo[ne] da Castelo francho di peste

fintore excelentisimo da peste in Venezia de

anni 36 & requiese in pace

Join online via Zoom

Schedule:

ACIS-University of Melbourne Postdoctoral Fellowship Applications Now Open

APPLICATIONS CLOSE 22 February, 2022

Farewells and a Welcome: ACIS Cassamarca Positions Update

Applications Now Open for ACIS Research Group Projects

Dante on Screen: the Helios and Milano Infernos (1911)

Oodgeroo Noonuccal, My People. La mia gente. Edited by Margherita Zanoletti

Italian in Australia: Perspectives and trends in the teaching of language and culture

Sir James Gobbo: 22 March 1931 - 7 November 2021

The Fearless Ulysses of Dante's 'Divine Comedy'

Reminder! Applications due for ACIS Publication Prizes

Music, Ageing, and Dementia – the 'Comusichiamo' project

Celebrating 70 years of the South Australian Italian Association

Vale Stuart J. Woolf 1936-2021

"His death is a real loss to anyone studying Italy."

Aotearoa New Zealand poets inspired by Dante's southern hemispheric Purgatory

ACIS welcomes Santo Cilauro as its new Patron

Venezia 1,600: a remarkable birthday celebration

Dante Day and a Year of Dante in Australia

New ACIS collaboration with Spunti e Ricerche

The Accademia della Crusca and the 'Settimana della lingua italiana nel mondo'

New ePublication–A Linguistic History of Italy / Storia linguistica d’Italia

Love in the time of COVID-19: An Italo-Australian Love Story

Vale Dino De Poli 24 August 1929 – 21 July 2020

Morricone dies at 91

Remembering Modigliani (1884-1920)

La Tragedia Del Vajont

Religion in cinema and television

Pandemia 2020 in Italia

A Scholarship Cut Short: Donna Storey reflects on her time in Rome during COVID-19

Solo l’eco – ‘just a thought’ from filmmaker Carlo Limonta

Amuleti nella Valle del Lambro

A Venetian-based Soprano makes her (virtual) Melbourne debut

Disease and death

Italian Opera from the Medici to Bellini

‘Ultras despite being women’: Ilaria Pitti on female calcio fans

Art: high, low and mixed

Violence in the Borderlands: Migrants in North Queensland

The Life of Giovanni Morelli in Risorgimento Italy – book launch

Vittorio De Sica Retrospective - Interview with Elisabetta Ferrari

Exploring Venice’s past and present

ACIS Save Venice Fellowships 2020

Vale Dino De Poli  24 August 1929 – 21 July 2020