.
After 4 years living in Italy without a sign of Thanksgiving around me, I finally took it upon myself to buy a bird and spent 2 days preparing a typical turkey feast for my Italian family (four adults, two kids), which was enjoyed by all with tremendous gusto. We chose to celebrate today, the Sunday before Thanksgiving, as of course nobody is off on Thursday. It was the first time in many years that I made a turkey and all the trimmings, and although I thought I would have forgotten how to make the perfect stuffing, it came right back to me in a flash. What fun, and at the same time how strange it was to prepare for Thanksgiving in this setting.
Nicoletta, (a thoroughbred Fiorentina) and I collaborated on the menu the week before. We decided that no Thanksgiving among Italians could ever succeed without a primo piatto di pasta. While brainstorming on the pasta, her eyes lit up as she declared "penne al cavolo nero"! (A typical Florentine pasta dish made with black cabbage). It was exquisite and complemented the meal perfectly.
The secondo piatto and all the trimmings were foreign to them. Not understanding what turkey "stuffing" is, I explained it by calling it "Panzanella Americana" and then it clicked! They never had turkey gravy before (it was rich with pan drippings....the best I've ever made...this time the roux was perfect). They loved it! I got a kick out of how crazy they went over the cranberry sauce (which I spent 2 days hunting down and spent a fortune for)....they practically licked it off the plate and and asked to take home the leftover berries.
It was especially fun explaining the story of the Pilgrims and the Mayflower to them and sharing the history of our greatest American holiday. The kids soaked it right up and asked alot of questions about the Indians. They were star struck. I led the meal by having everyone hold hands and said a prayer of thanks....it was very emotional.
The kids are amazing in the kitchen, just like at their house. Setting, unsetting the table and following me all over the kitchen asking me what they could do next. What a great day. Roasted chestnuts, fruit and Nicoletta's masterpiece tiramisu, topped off a very nostalgic day as little 7 yr. old Costanza performed for us all on the violincello.
This was a momentous day for me. After 4 years spent making Florence my home, I'm able to look back on my American life with a lifetime of memories, and am now able to integrate my past and my present in a new and meaningful way. It marked another new Italian/American tradition that will be the first of many to come, spent with a precious family that has become mine. I am so grateful on this day of Thanks.
pubblicità
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Voting in Two Different Countries
.
Yesterday, as the world watched the American presidential elections and having already cast my absentee ballot, I began preparing myself to vote in the Italian Primaries on November 25th. It was uncanny that I was juggling thoughts of voting in two different countries on the very same day.
This will be the first time since receiving my dual citizenship that I’ll have the opportunity to vote as an Italian citizen. After all the complex steps I’ve taken to establish myself as a citizen, resident and community member, when I step into my local electoral office to vote, I will truly feel arrived. I’m proud to have the privilege of being able to vote for the leaders of the two greatest countries in the world.
When I first received my jure sanguinis Italian citizenship and Florentine residency in 2009, I expected to steer clear of Italian politics, given its complexity and my lack of first-hand knowledge. I certainly didn’t expect that I would be as enthusiastic to vote as I am now.
Over the past few years, my relationship with Florence has become precious like a friend. Thus, I have become engaged with social, economic and political issues, eager to understand the forces that drive the vitality of my city and the country of my roots. Here I feel more involved and connected with city politics than I ever did during a lifetime in the U.S. perhaps because in spite of the complexities of the Italian political scene, the feeling of community is so much tighter here, where I feel like a member and not a number.
I’m not jaded yet and doubt I will ever because I think so differently than I ever did before and have eliminated expectations from my life. I’ve embraced and am fully committed to my future here and equally invested in preserving the integrity of Florence and Italy. Having a voice and a right to vote is more important to me now than it ever was before because I feel like a valuable member of this big crazy family called Italy.
I’ve actually been surprised that many Fiorentini and Italians don’t get politically involved beyond musings on the communal level. I have kept my opinions to myself and my blood pressure from bursting, although this attitude is contrary to my New York City breeding. Hence, I’ve developed some strong political inclinations and am thirsty to express them. I'll have the opportunity to do so at the polls on November 25th.
Other than what I read and hear around me, I’m ignorant of the system and have a lot to learn. But I sure know my gut. I know which candidates I like and who I despise. For me, this is enough.
Today I visited my local Arco Circoli to register to vote. They asked me for my voting card, which I do not have. I thought all I needed was my Carta d’Identità. They told me that I should have received my voting card when I first got my residency in 2009. Of course I never received it. So now it is a mad rush for me to get this card subito, in order to vote by the 25th.
Learning all these new ways of living is so exciting. There is no book written on the subject of how to navigate the voting system as a new citizen. So like everything else, I continue to pioneer my new-founded territory, an adventure of somewhat solitary but intimate self-discovery that has been endlessly rewarding.
I know that when I have my voting card in my hand, it will feel like a treasure that I've waited a lifetime to earn.
Yesterday, as the world watched the American presidential elections and having already cast my absentee ballot, I began preparing myself to vote in the Italian Primaries on November 25th. It was uncanny that I was juggling thoughts of voting in two different countries on the very same day.
This will be the first time since receiving my dual citizenship that I’ll have the opportunity to vote as an Italian citizen. After all the complex steps I’ve taken to establish myself as a citizen, resident and community member, when I step into my local electoral office to vote, I will truly feel arrived. I’m proud to have the privilege of being able to vote for the leaders of the two greatest countries in the world.
When I first received my jure sanguinis Italian citizenship and Florentine residency in 2009, I expected to steer clear of Italian politics, given its complexity and my lack of first-hand knowledge. I certainly didn’t expect that I would be as enthusiastic to vote as I am now.
Over the past few years, my relationship with Florence has become precious like a friend. Thus, I have become engaged with social, economic and political issues, eager to understand the forces that drive the vitality of my city and the country of my roots. Here I feel more involved and connected with city politics than I ever did during a lifetime in the U.S. perhaps because in spite of the complexities of the Italian political scene, the feeling of community is so much tighter here, where I feel like a member and not a number.
I’m not jaded yet and doubt I will ever because I think so differently than I ever did before and have eliminated expectations from my life. I’ve embraced and am fully committed to my future here and equally invested in preserving the integrity of Florence and Italy. Having a voice and a right to vote is more important to me now than it ever was before because I feel like a valuable member of this big crazy family called Italy.
I’ve actually been surprised that many Fiorentini and Italians don’t get politically involved beyond musings on the communal level. I have kept my opinions to myself and my blood pressure from bursting, although this attitude is contrary to my New York City breeding. Hence, I’ve developed some strong political inclinations and am thirsty to express them. I'll have the opportunity to do so at the polls on November 25th.
Other than what I read and hear around me, I’m ignorant of the system and have a lot to learn. But I sure know my gut. I know which candidates I like and who I despise. For me, this is enough.
Today I visited my local Arco Circoli to register to vote. They asked me for my voting card, which I do not have. I thought all I needed was my Carta d’Identità. They told me that I should have received my voting card when I first got my residency in 2009. Of course I never received it. So now it is a mad rush for me to get this card subito, in order to vote by the 25th.
Learning all these new ways of living is so exciting. There is no book written on the subject of how to navigate the voting system as a new citizen. So like everything else, I continue to pioneer my new-founded territory, an adventure of somewhat solitary but intimate self-discovery that has been endlessly rewarding.
I know that when I have my voting card in my hand, it will feel like a treasure that I've waited a lifetime to earn.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Redefining Beauty: It's Not About the Belly Button
,
.
.
The old concept of Italian female beauty is about to be scrapped
 |
| Miss Italia 2008 |
In favor of a whole new concept of inner beauty
 |
| Tara Gandhi |
The Miss Italia Pageant Goes Mainstream
Arrivederci belly buttons and bikinis. Anna Maria Tarantola, the new boss of Italian state TV under Mario Monti's austerity government is clamping down on female TV nudity, beginning with the Miss Italia Pageant. Patrizia Mirigliani, pageant organizer has announced that bikinis will be replaced by one piece bathing suits to cover the crotch and upper thigh. In an unprecedented move, the granddaughter of Mahatma Gandhi has been invited to teach the girls about “inner beauty''. Gandhi will also judge the final competition, replacing a panel spot typically reserved for the likes of Sylvestor Stallone, Bruce Willis and Andy Garcia. Somewhat contradictory is the inviting of Jane Fonda, who in her perfectly plastered body will also serve as a judge. (This is the same sex symbol Jane Fonda who stared naked in Barbarella and who admitted that her father taught her that her looks were all that mattered.) An incidental case of mixed signals?
Is this "flight to purity" a moral triumph for Italian women, or is it an insult to their female sexuality? Are they being told to cover up something that they should be proud of? Is it insulting to tell a woman to cover up her body and to imply that she doesn't have inner beauty? Is this a politically inspired maneuver to correct the distorted global perception of Italian female sexuality propagated by internationally acclaimed political pervert Berlusconi? Or is this the beginning of a “piccola grande rivoluzione”, a top-down strategy, using the media as a vehicle to indoctrinate and slowly reform the very gut of Italy’s female culture?
Italian women in my age group are divided. Some believe that female nudity on TV undermines the female image, and others see it as harmless realism.
Yes, I bought a pair of rose-colored glasses when I moved to Italy and will never take them off. Perhaps it has distorted my perception. When I watch the bikini-clad Miss Italia contestants I see nothing but innocent, wholesome, elegant teenagers whose body behavior is far from suggestive. If a woman in a bikini is sexually indecent, then we might as well call the Uffizi a porn gallery and cover up half of the art in Florence. After all, this is supposed to be a beauty contest.
I always thought that the Miss Italia candidates already had inner beauty. But maybe it's just those darn rose-colored glasses getting in the way, ehh? Telling them to adopt a more Indian philosophy can be interpreted as an insult. (In fact, the Indian culture is not exactly the global epitome of feminist success). Are we saying that the Italian ideal of beauty isn't good enough, and therefore we have to copy someone else's culture?
There isn’t a culture in the world that uses body language the way the Italians do. Their inimitable facial expressions, hand gestures, body movements! Covering up their bellies is like putting them in a straightjacket. Where's the fantasia?
As I see it, it's not the bareness of the body, but the behavior of the body, the way the body is used, the innuendo and the attitude that makes the difference. It’s the difference between the obnoxious “Big Boob Barbie Doll Bimbo Beauty” and the pure elegance of Botticelli Beauty. And these little innocent girls, many from the back roads of Italy, are not strutting their bodies in "that" way. I always found the Miss Italia Pageant to be imaginative, spunky spontaneous, innocent, natural, entertaining and well.....Italian!
As a rather straight laced corporate American competing in a man's world, I was unfortunately taught to strut my bodily stuff in a business suit and to cover up the cleavage. Just the opposite mentality. It took me four years of living here to finally shed the old uniform and start dressing Italiana. The difference is that Italians are taught to love their bodies unabashedly, regardless of being fat, skinny, young, old, housewives or executives. They have a confidence and elegance that I wish we had in America. One of the reasons I love watching the Miss Italia Pageant is that it is pure in its bodily pride, carefree and unrehearsed. I dread the thought of Miss Italia going the way of Miss America. Let’s not make it too psychologically competitive and serious, man!! This is Italy!!!!
On the positive side, the new “inner beauty” movement may indeed indoctrinate the young beauties with more esoteric values and prepare them for better career and life opportunities. And as long as Berlusconi keeps his pecker out of the Italian sex scene, it will certainly improve Italy’s image in front of the rest of the world.
I’m sorry to see it go. I guess after all is said and done, I can’t blame Italy for changing its image, but I'll miss the old Miss Italia Pageant. It was a pisser. I’m probably more in favor of the new ideas than not. On September 9th and 10th we will see the outcome and judge for ourselves. I just have one thing to say: "Hey, Italy keep your "Italian-ness"!
Either way, the very gracious Patrizia Mirigliani is sure to pull it off with elegance and finesse. And as usual, it will probably bring tears to my eyes!! It must be those rose-colored glasses.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Zucchini Flowers for a Hot Day
.
I love eating all kinds of flowers and always have. In the U.S., zucchini flowers are a delicacy and priced as such. Here, they are common, cheap and abundant in the right season. Italian eggs are much more tasty than American eggs, and combined, they make a heavenly simple meal.
Now you can serve it plain, or over some toasted Tuscan bread rubbed with olive oil. You can also plop a dollop of ricotta on top. Sprinke more parsley over the eggs and enjoy.
A perfect pick for dining in the Florence heat! I'm always hunting for alternatives to panzanella, salads, caprese and panini to keep cool. Today I found the perfect summer dish based on what's currently fresh in Florence's markets. Objective: minimal cooking and the pursuit of a cool kitchen and an even cooler Barbara.
.
As I browsed the Sant'Ambrogio market this morning, the zucchini flowers screamed at me for attention.... freschissimi e abbondanti! It instantly grabbed me....eggs with zucchini flowers and pecorino. Fast, fresh and it doesn't heat up the kitchen. A soft Vermentino or sparkling white makes the perfect partner.
I love eating all kinds of flowers and always have. In the U.S., zucchini flowers are a delicacy and priced as such. Here, they are common, cheap and abundant in the right season. Italian eggs are much more tasty than American eggs, and combined, they make a heavenly simple meal. The recipe: Three eggs, 3 tbs.grated aged pecorino, 3 tbs.chopped parsely, 1 tsp.shallots, 5 big zucchini flowers, a few pats of butter. Die-hard Tuscans can use olive oil, but butter enhances the sweetness of the flowers. Sliver up the flowers. Melt the butter, add slivered shallots and saute for 2 minutes. Beat the eggs, add the cheese and 1/2 of the chopped parsley to the eggs. Add the flowers and remaining parsley to the pan with a dash of salt and cook for 1 1/2 minutes (keep the crunch!). Add the eggs and as they cook, fold them over a few times for maybe a minute! Withdraw the pan from the heat when the eggs start to coagulate and finish the cooking off the heat! (you don't want to scramble it, and do not cook too long. Keep the yokes a little wet for the best flavor) Done! You can also cook this frittata style, but it is thicker, drier and takes longer.
Now you can serve it plain, or over some toasted Tuscan bread rubbed with olive oil. You can also plop a dollop of ricotta on top. Sprinke more parsley over the eggs and enjoy.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Liberation of Florence
.
Last Saturday was the 68th Anniversary of the Liberation of Florence from the Germans, under whose occupation the city suffered great damage during WWII.
.
In order to attend the ceremonies in Palazzo Vecchio, one must receive a private written invitation from Mayor Renzi.
While I will never achieve such insider status, I was fortunate to have been extended a written invitation by a native Florentine friend whose husband was unable to attend. I was honored to partake in the festivities in the filled-to-capacity Salone dei Cinquecento in Palazzo Vecchio and afforded a VIP seat for the closing concert conducted in the Arengario in Piazza Signoria. It was a day of great emotion, solidarity and pride.
Below is an amazing video taken in the streets of Florence as Allied Forces liberated the city on August 11, 1944. One minute of vintage history-in-the-making!!! Viva Firenze!! You must plug in your headset as the audio quality is poor! Don't miss it!
Last Saturday was the 68th Anniversary of the Liberation of Florence from the Germans, under whose occupation the city suffered great damage during WWII. Among the many civic celebrations in Florence, this one is particularly well attended by native Florentines, many of whose families witnessed the brutal mutilation of their city.
.
I felt a great sense of pride as an American participating in the ceremonies as it unites me closer to the Florentine community in celebration of a mutual victory. .
In order to attend the ceremonies in Palazzo Vecchio, one must receive a private written invitation from Mayor Renzi.
Below is an amazing video taken in the streets of Florence as Allied Forces liberated the city on August 11, 1944. One minute of vintage history-in-the-making!!! Viva Firenze!! You must plug in your headset as the audio quality is poor! Don't miss it!
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Celebrating the Silence
I love it and I hate it. August in Florence. We are expecting our 7th heat "wave", but since June, I cannot tell where one has ended and the next has begun. We are enduring a persistent drought unseen in years. Merchants and residents alike have left the city behind in pursuit of cooler destinations, clinging to a vacation tradition that has it roots in ancient Roman times. A tradition that is slowly fading as Italy is forced to become more competitive and fewer Italians can afford the luxury of vacations and time off from work.
While the tourist trade never sleeps in Florence, in my little world, nearly everything is closed and I am the only tenant left in my building. I've learned that anything you need in August, you better buy in July. As I gaze out my window, my neighbors' shutters are closed, there are no clothes hanging on the lines and my plants are almost dead from the heat. An eerie solitude hovers over my empty courtyard at night.
But I too, am clinging to my own "tradition" of heading south after the panic has ended, to enjoy uncrowded beaches, no traffic, no lines and better service. I've again chosen to remain in my beloved Florence, even when the going gets tough. For more reasons than one.
I love this city even in its heat and its silence. The roads are empty. I can spend mornings enjoying traffic-free bike rides in the northern hills and passeggiatas in the city. The duomo bells resonate with a richer tone and a deeper echo since there is nothing to absorb the sound. My girlfriends seem to be taking turns going away, so there's always someone here with whom to share an aperitivo on Florence's rooftops, overlooking a quiet and peaceful city. Or at Las Palmas, my favorite open-air niche. I've found a little oasis in the Cascine, where a local piscina allows me to run or ride in the morning and swim in the afternoon. In August, even the Duomo looks lonely, but it feels like it's all mine, as it stands silent against the backdrop of a naked city.
I spend more time indoors, doing things that I would typically find boring, but love it. Like watching cultural films on T.V., reading, writing, tending my plants and refining my goals for the rest of the year. And taking time to lay back, have a glass of wine, and enjoy il "dolce far niente".
While the tourist trade never sleeps in Florence, in my little world, nearly everything is closed and I am the only tenant left in my building. I've learned that anything you need in August, you better buy in July. As I gaze out my window, my neighbors' shutters are closed, there are no clothes hanging on the lines and my plants are almost dead from the heat. An eerie solitude hovers over my empty courtyard at night.
But I too, am clinging to my own "tradition" of heading south after the panic has ended, to enjoy uncrowded beaches, no traffic, no lines and better service. I've again chosen to remain in my beloved Florence, even when the going gets tough. For more reasons than one.
I love this city even in its heat and its silence. The roads are empty. I can spend mornings enjoying traffic-free bike rides in the northern hills and passeggiatas in the city. The duomo bells resonate with a richer tone and a deeper echo since there is nothing to absorb the sound. My girlfriends seem to be taking turns going away, so there's always someone here with whom to share an aperitivo on Florence's rooftops, overlooking a quiet and peaceful city. Or at Las Palmas, my favorite open-air niche. I've found a little oasis in the Cascine, where a local piscina allows me to run or ride in the morning and swim in the afternoon. In August, even the Duomo looks lonely, but it feels like it's all mine, as it stands silent against the backdrop of a naked city.
I spend more time indoors, doing things that I would typically find boring, but love it. Like watching cultural films on T.V., reading, writing, tending my plants and refining my goals for the rest of the year. And taking time to lay back, have a glass of wine, and enjoy il "dolce far niente".
Sunday, August 12, 2012
A Big Find in a Little Museum
I joined a group of Florentines today on a tour which examined the works of five Renaissance artists who left their mark in the Land of Arezzo. The tour is one of many sponsored by the initiative "Rinascimento in Terra d'Arezzo" exploring some of the lesser frequented "Little Big Museums" outside the city of Florence. The program, promoted to the Florentine community by a Florentine cultural arts foundation, offers gratis day trip tours via motorcoach, skilfully guided by a master Renaissance art expert..
I heard some reviews from local friends and it sounded like a unique oppotunity to examine a very select sample of masterpieces of Filippo Lippi, Beato Angelico, Luca Signorelli, Bartolomeo della Gatta and Lorenzo de Credi within the context of their original settings.
The tour took us to Arezzo, Cortona and Castiglion Fiorentino, where we spent a short but concise amount of time in each of a few museums. I found it to be an effective way of avoiding "Stendhal Syndrome" because it was focused, clear and expertly guided by a passionate, animated scholar. Calling it a "tour" is a misnomer. It was rather a scholastic expedition among a group of well-heeled Florentine art afficionados.
The highlight of my day was the mind-blowing "gift" that I received at the end of the tour. While we were in "Collegiata e Museo della Pieve di San Giuliano" in Castiglion Fiorentino, my eyes caught sight of a painting that I knew from my distant past, but never knew where it came from, or who the artist was.
Pictured above, is the painting, "L'Adorazione" by Lorenzo de Credi. It was the very image from a holy card that I cherished as a kid for many years, and used as a bookmark. The image disappeared from my memory until I saw it today, connecting yet another link between my past and my present life that was simply meant to be in Florence.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Coping with the Heat, Italian Style
.
These are my two most recent acquisitions, made by a local artisan. Now all I need are sandals to match.
In spite of their vulnerability to stiff necks and sore throats, the Italians are slowly surrendering to air-conditioners. Their tolerance to the heat is admirable. Today in 41 degree heat, I chuckled insidiously as I caught glimpse of a woman wearing short shorts, flip flops a see-though short top, and a heavy scarf frivolously wrapped three times around her throat.
.
However, for me, it is still a challenge to take a passeggiata in Florence without some creative way of keeping myself cool. A gelato cools the body, a bike creates a breeze, and so does a ventaglio. I never thought I would ever own a ventaglio (fan), no less a seriously fashionable one. But I just had to break down.
.
Ah.....living the Italian life has changed everything about me. And I love it.
These are my two most recent acquisitions, made by a local artisan. Now all I need are sandals to match.
In spite of their vulnerability to stiff necks and sore throats, the Italians are slowly surrendering to air-conditioners. Their tolerance to the heat is admirable. Today in 41 degree heat, I chuckled insidiously as I caught glimpse of a woman wearing short shorts, flip flops a see-though short top, and a heavy scarf frivolously wrapped three times around her throat.
.
However, for me, it is still a challenge to take a passeggiata in Florence without some creative way of keeping myself cool. A gelato cools the body, a bike creates a breeze, and so does a ventaglio. I never thought I would ever own a ventaglio (fan), no less a seriously fashionable one. But I just had to break down.
.
Ah.....living the Italian life has changed everything about me. And I love it.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
A Spiritual Encounter with Dante
.
When the box office opened for Benigni's return to Florence to revive his 2006 presentation of Dante's Inferno, I reserved a subscription for 6 of the12 evenings, which concluded in a stunning climax last night.The encounter brought me face-to-face with two of my greatest idols, Benigni and Dante.
Benigni, in his genius, so eloquently and charismatically brought Dante's Inferno out of the Middle Ages, right into the lap of modern-day Florence. Just being there was a lifetime gift.
I realized as I sat there on opening night that I wasn't waiting a mere few months for this night, but rather I was waiting a lifetime.
Following the series was akin to following some of the worlds' greatest events, like the Olympics or the Giro d'Italia. You don't want it to end, and when it does, you feel like something is missing. Last night, Benigni made his final presentation of Canto XXII, ending two weeks of profound, mind-boggling emotional entertainment.
During the series, I reflected upon a person who had a great impact upon me, Dr. Mirella Affron, Ph.D, under whose tutelage I first studied Dante. This exceptional woman fed my passion for Italy and awoke my appreciation for my Italian roots. Everyone has that special teacher who pinches a nerve that you didn't know you had. Who inspires and provokes you. Dr. Mirella Affron was that person for me.
Last night, I looked her up on the internet to see where she is today. This is a photo of her that I found. At first, I was shocked to realize how many years have passed and how she has aged. It made me realize the long journey that I've traveled to get here.
Benigni, in his genius, so eloquently and charismatically brought Dante's Inferno out of the Middle Ages, right into the lap of modern-day Florence. Just being there was a lifetime gift.
I realized as I sat there on opening night that I wasn't waiting a mere few months for this night, but rather I was waiting a lifetime.
Following the series was akin to following some of the worlds' greatest events, like the Olympics or the Giro d'Italia. You don't want it to end, and when it does, you feel like something is missing. Last night, Benigni made his final presentation of Canto XXII, ending two weeks of profound, mind-boggling emotional entertainment.
During the series, I reflected upon a person who had a great impact upon me, Dr. Mirella Affron, Ph.D, under whose tutelage I first studied Dante. This exceptional woman fed my passion for Italy and awoke my appreciation for my Italian roots. Everyone has that special teacher who pinches a nerve that you didn't know you had. Who inspires and provokes you. Dr. Mirella Affron was that person for me.
 |
| Mirella Affron, my Italian Professor at City College of New York, still going strong |
She still has that same beautiful glow in her eyes that has inspired so many students over the years. Thank you, Dr. Affron.
Click here for article in La Nazione
Click here for article in La Nazione
Monday, August 6, 2012
My Apartment in Florence.....Moving On!
 |
| View From My Living Room |
.
Florence can cook my brain and physically break me down as much in the summer as it can feed my brain and fulfill my soul the rest of the year. This season has been especially difficult for me to survive without air-conditioning. This has given me the incentive to search for another cooler, larger apartment in Centro.
Air conditioning is not really the reason why I am searching for a new place to live, but it has been the catalyst. The truth is that I have been living in the same apartment that I rented for 3 months when I came to study here.....4 years ago. My life has grown and now I want a long-term lease in a more residential palazzo, with an extra bedroom and bathroom.
 |
| View From My Bedroom |
I must quickly reminisce! I found this apartment while I was planning to study in Florence for 3 months in 2008. It was advertised on Craigslist as the former art studio of artist Pietro Annigoni. Little did I know just what that meant! It featured an enormous, romantic bedroom with high chestnut-beamed ceilings, two walls of tall windows, a living room with a stunning view of the duomo, a fireplace kitchen and a terrace laced with jasmine and gardenias. In the bedroom where I sleep, Annigoni painted his portrait of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth! Yes, she sat in my bedroom!
Destiny, timing and instinct collided at once, leading me to my final doormat….this apartment in Florence.
During my 3 month stay, a series of successive miracles occurred, one after the other, begging me to stay. Life came together for me, and all of it happened from this special apartment, the home where I’ve spent my first 4 years living in Florence.
 |
| My Front Door and One of my Bikes |
As if that was not enough, the greatest miracle of all was yet to come: After an unsuccessful attempt to find my grandparents’ naturalization papers (with no intent other than to proudly frame and hang them on my wall), I discovered to my utter shock that they (who immigrated to New York in 1909), never became American citizens. Discovering this exactly 100 years later in 2009, was an unmistakable act of God. This entitled me to be an Italian citizen “jure sanguinis”. My destiny: two passports, Florentine residency and a life in Italy that has allowed me to rediscover the “lost” traditions and comforts that I learned as a child growing up in a neighborhood of Italian immigrants who held strong to their Italian roots. My life in Italy was always meant to be, but it had to evolve.
 |
| My Bedroom |
But I am ready for a change, a larger space, to embark upon Chapter 2 of my life in Italy. The right place will appear as naturally and as certainly as this little piece of heaven appeared to me 4 years ago.
My Apartment Photo Album
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Coming Back Soon !
.
Welcome back to my blog. I think every now and then I need to un-clog my brain and let my life and experiences unfold without writing a thing. I am feeling ready to write again, for the sake of expressing myself, my love of life, my love of Florence, and as a way of ensuring that my memories and sentiments will survive me....even if in a virtual world.
There is so much pouring out of me, so many times that I celebrate a moment that I want to record. Most of it revolves around the profound love that I have for this country, my life in Florence and the people who have become my friends and family in Italy.
Moments become memories. Memories can get blurry, even lost. So, I'll continue my blog for me, for one day, when I look back at how lucky I was, to recall the moments and memories of a lifetime dream-come- true.
If you care to follow my jouney on the way, you are invited! And say hello every now and then. It can be weird being out there in the anonymous world of blogging!
.
See you soon.
.
Welcome back to my blog. I think every now and then I need to un-clog my brain and let my life and experiences unfold without writing a thing. I am feeling ready to write again, for the sake of expressing myself, my love of life, my love of Florence, and as a way of ensuring that my memories and sentiments will survive me....even if in a virtual world.
There is so much pouring out of me, so many times that I celebrate a moment that I want to record. Most of it revolves around the profound love that I have for this country, my life in Florence and the people who have become my friends and family in Italy.
Moments become memories. Memories can get blurry, even lost. So, I'll continue my blog for me, for one day, when I look back at how lucky I was, to recall the moments and memories of a lifetime dream-come- true.
If you care to follow my jouney on the way, you are invited! And say hello every now and then. It can be weird being out there in the anonymous world of blogging!
.
See you soon.
.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
"Vestiamo il David"
Piazza della Signoria was jam-packed tonight with proud fans of Florence's soccer team, La Fiorentina, who created a thunder that rocked all of Florence.
Here, the Comune di Firenze staged an extraordinary light show projected onto the walls of Palazzo Vecchio, celebrating the team's new technical sponsor.
.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Closing Down My Blog For a While
.
I started my blog almost 4 years ago when I first came to Florence to study and immerse myself in the culture and the language. Little did I know that this experience would lead me to a permanent life in Italy.
My blog started as a way to keep in touch with my friends and let them know what was happening to me day-by-day. However, in the past several months, I realize that my blog is not what it used to be. Instead of being a spontaneous way of celebrating each and every glorious day that I live in Firenze, it has become an infrequent and calculated commentary on diverse subjects that strike me at the moment.
But there are so many people out there who do that! I am no expert and I don't want to be one. I just want to be true to my blog and feel the freedom that I once had in freely expressing my feelings.
For some reason, perhaps because my blog has gone global, I've been feeling very conscious about what I write, because my audience is so diverse and so anonymous. And that's not what I originally intended my blog to be. As a result, I have not been true to myself, because I feel that in a way, my privacy has been compromised, and as a result, I am reluctant to express my silly and passionate feelings about my amazing "every-day" life in the city that has fulfilled every single dream I've ever had.
So, I have decided to temporarily shut-down my blog, until I can allow myself to write freely again, without paying attention to every word, without worrying about if people who I don't even know are criticizing me, without caring who thinks what of me. I don't want to proof-read, I don't want to do anything but write about the glorious life that I have realized in Florence.
I will continue writing in my blog, but in privacy. I will write more frequently, maybe every day. I need the juices to start flowing again, because every moment that I spend living here is precious. Too precious not to write about.
I intend to open my blog up again....as soon as it flows the way it used to, and as soon as I feel that it is once again what I originally intended it to be! I don't know when that will be!
I know I will lose readers and that's okay, because that is not my objective. When I open my blog again, I will post a note on Facebook and on Networked Blogs and other portals, to let you know that my blog is "alive" again, "whenever that is". So, maybe we will meet again! Thank you for your interest.
I started my blog almost 4 years ago when I first came to Florence to study and immerse myself in the culture and the language. Little did I know that this experience would lead me to a permanent life in Italy.
My blog started as a way to keep in touch with my friends and let them know what was happening to me day-by-day. However, in the past several months, I realize that my blog is not what it used to be. Instead of being a spontaneous way of celebrating each and every glorious day that I live in Firenze, it has become an infrequent and calculated commentary on diverse subjects that strike me at the moment.
But there are so many people out there who do that! I am no expert and I don't want to be one. I just want to be true to my blog and feel the freedom that I once had in freely expressing my feelings.
For some reason, perhaps because my blog has gone global, I've been feeling very conscious about what I write, because my audience is so diverse and so anonymous. And that's not what I originally intended my blog to be. As a result, I have not been true to myself, because I feel that in a way, my privacy has been compromised, and as a result, I am reluctant to express my silly and passionate feelings about my amazing "every-day" life in the city that has fulfilled every single dream I've ever had.
So, I have decided to temporarily shut-down my blog, until I can allow myself to write freely again, without paying attention to every word, without worrying about if people who I don't even know are criticizing me, without caring who thinks what of me. I don't want to proof-read, I don't want to do anything but write about the glorious life that I have realized in Florence.
I will continue writing in my blog, but in privacy. I will write more frequently, maybe every day. I need the juices to start flowing again, because every moment that I spend living here is precious. Too precious not to write about.
I intend to open my blog up again....as soon as it flows the way it used to, and as soon as I feel that it is once again what I originally intended it to be! I don't know when that will be!
I know I will lose readers and that's okay, because that is not my objective. When I open my blog again, I will post a note on Facebook and on Networked Blogs and other portals, to let you know that my blog is "alive" again, "whenever that is". So, maybe we will meet again! Thank you for your interest.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
The Tiglio Flowers are Blooming!
.
When these trees are dressed up in their yellow floral costumes, they are a pleasure to see and to smell. And here's a surprise! The flowers themselves can be eaten and are heavenly sweet. You must pick them at the right time (within the next few days) when they are ripe, sweet and al dente. They are delicious and crunchy in the center. Just pick them off the tree!
Last year I saw a woman picking them and putting them in a basket. I inquired. She said that the flowers are used to make an herbal tea. So, not only can you eat the flowers right off the tree, but you can savor them all year round in your tea. The flowers have a calming effect and medicinal properties that enable it to be used to cure stomach and digestive ailments and angina. The sap of the trees is used to treat intestinal spasms and liver problems. The flowers are also used to create fragrant soaps, perfumes and sachets.
Because of their sweet scent, they attract bees that produce a delicate Tiglio honey reminiscent of fresh mint and eucalpytus. This honey is produced and bottled in Piemonte and Emilia Romagna where the trees thrive in great numbers.
Have you noticed the intoxicating fragrance of flowers infusing the air of Florence for the past few days? It is one of my favorite scents, the sweet smell of the Tiglio Tree. When the Tiglio tree blooms in early June, it produces clusters of dangling yellow pendulum-like flowers that emit an intense perfume. The heavenly scent is strong and very sweet, more delicate than honeysuckle but equally pungent, and stronger and sweeter than jasmine. All of Florence smells so sweet !!
The Tiglio trees can be found scattered around a few of Florence's residential piazzas, such as Piazza d'Azeglio and on the corner of Via dell'Angolo and Borgo Allegri. But the smell that is virtually hypnotizing the city right now is emanating from Parco delle Cascine, where an abundance of these trees cohabitate alongside their neighbors, the chestnut trees. Their captivating fragrance is carried along the Arno by breezes that blow east towards centro storico. These tall elegant trees flank both sides of the northern perimiter of the park and they lace the interior dirt path where many runners choose to jog under their cool shade.
When these trees are dressed up in their yellow floral costumes, they are a pleasure to see and to smell. And here's a surprise! The flowers themselves can be eaten and are heavenly sweet. You must pick them at the right time (within the next few days) when they are ripe, sweet and al dente. They are delicious and crunchy in the center. Just pick them off the tree!
Last year I saw a woman picking them and putting them in a basket. I inquired. She said that the flowers are used to make an herbal tea. So, not only can you eat the flowers right off the tree, but you can savor them all year round in your tea. The flowers have a calming effect and medicinal properties that enable it to be used to cure stomach and digestive ailments and angina. The sap of the trees is used to treat intestinal spasms and liver problems. The flowers are also used to create fragrant soaps, perfumes and sachets.
Because of their sweet scent, they attract bees that produce a delicate Tiglio honey reminiscent of fresh mint and eucalpytus. This honey is produced and bottled in Piemonte and Emilia Romagna where the trees thrive in great numbers.So, if you get a chance, take a ride or a walk down to the park to observe the beauty, smell the flowers and pick some too! They taste like candy....and wait until you taste the tea!! Don't forget to bring a basket. When you get home, leave them out to dry and put them in an air-tight tin can to preserve them for all-year-round tea. But do it fast! If we have windy rain like we had last year, the flowers will all fall to the ground before you get to them. Enjoy!
Monday, June 4, 2012
Sono Golosa! Ma Basta!
.
Perhaps the greatest challenge that I face living in Italy is how to cope with the eating culture and control my weight in spite of my “golosità’”. “Sono golosa” is a common expression announced with unabashed pride, conveying a person’s lust for a particular (or all) food, and the burning pleasure that one derives from eating it. The closest English translation is “I am gluttonous” but unless intended as a joke, it hardly means the same thing, being perceived more as a vice, rather than as considered here, a virtue.
Gluttony has after all, since early Christian times, made it to the top of the Cardinal Sin hit list, along with pride, avarice, wrath and envy.
Regardless of their religiosity and in spite of their respect for Dante, who in La Commedia evoked fearful images of the horrific consequences of gluttony, Italians have chucked this sin straight out the window. In this culture, “siamo golosi” is a sensual, quasi-sexy expression of our gusto, our appreciation for having food on the table, and for that which feeds our relationships, our family and souls. But unfortunately, that which feeds our souls also feeds our thighs. Or at least mine.
My first year living in Italy, I immediately espoused the “sono golosa” cultura, having been raised on it as a kid. What a great excuse to run wild….everyone accepts it, and I can be me! I was back in “comfort-food land”, a place and state-of-mind that brought me back to my childhood. I was instantly emancipated from the “lean and mean” all-American mentality that I, as a product (or victim) of the Jane Fonda generation, was effectively brainwashed (and still sadly am) to believe that in order to feel happy and successful, we must eat anorexic quantities of food and “feel the burn.”
I indulged myself at sagras, tested every aperitivo buffet in Florence, learned how to love lampredotto and carne bollito and went pazza for finocchiona . I got to know every food stall at the market and developed an ardent appreciation for an exhaustive list of cured meats and other fatal foods. I went through a liter of olive oil per month, a gelato and a bottle of Chianti per day (which at first enhanced the food but maybe now it’s a problem?). I quickly realized that there’s a prescriptive food for every conceivable illness, olive oil being one of the most important, because it lubricates and allows everything else to “slip right through”. To me it’s another dimple in the thigh.
I thought I would eventually burn out and get this “food is fun” lust out of my system. I trusted that Florentine Italians must be doing something right since they are not fat in spite of the food obsession. So all I needed to do was to imitate it.
Although many Americans think that Italians are skinny because they eat small portions and walk a lot, I haven’t met those Italians yet. I instead have observed that they eat a lot and they eat often, albeit much more elegantly, slowly (since they are equally busy talking) and artfully than Americans do. They certainly don’t walk, cycle or sweat as much as I do and I’m probably the only woman in town who owns a full set of dumb bells.
They rarely consume one course, wine is a given, and gelato is the high of highs. Their diet is based on fatty and cured meats, bread, pasta, olive oil and lard. Yes they love veggies, but their menus are overwhelmingly carb and fat based. The concept of a calorie has not entered their consciousness although the American influence is slowly creeping in. They eat into the wee hours of the morning. God forbid…if Italian restaurants were to disclose the calorie content on their food menus, it would kill the tourism business and knock off a serious chunk of GDP, if there even is one anymore.
The Italians who I know talk about what they are going to eat, eat it, and then talk about what they ate. So, why are they skinny? Bulimia? Genes? I don’t know, but I unfortunately wasn’t born with it. I inherited an Italian fat gene and have struggled with it all my life. I don’t know whether to blame my Sicilian side or my Neopolitan side, but my family just didn’t get this right. Thank God for Jane Fonda.
Somehow Jane saved the day. She enabled me to become a cheerleader and to excel in competitive sports such as cycling in spite of the insidious golosità that lurked in my blood, threatening to emerge the moment I dropped the ball.
And then the ball dropped. Along with my destiny in Italy, it was bound to happen. On September 8, 2008 my most distant dreams and fears simultaneouslycame true. I moved to the land that I love, and the ghost came out of the closet.
I am surrounded by temptations from the minute I open my window. Within yards of my house there are 7 restaurants, a gelateria immediately downstairs, 2 pastry shops, a butcher, a forno, and a few "street food" joints. Walk further and it’s pure sabotage. I can’t fetch my bike from the piazza without being assaulted by the smell of food emanating from everywhere.
So I am finally saying "basta"! My love affair with food will never end, but I am figuring out how to enjoy the passion of living in dreamland without overindulging. I don’t want to go back to the Jane Fonda mentality but there has to be a balance.
One month ago I designed a five-star program to deal with it. It is really working so far! So, if you’re interested in finding out more, I promise to write about it in a future blog post. See you then!
Gluttony has after all, since early Christian times, made it to the top of the Cardinal Sin hit list, along with pride, avarice, wrath and envy.
Regardless of their religiosity and in spite of their respect for Dante, who in La Commedia evoked fearful images of the horrific consequences of gluttony, Italians have chucked this sin straight out the window. In this culture, “siamo golosi” is a sensual, quasi-sexy expression of our gusto, our appreciation for having food on the table, and for that which feeds our relationships, our family and souls. But unfortunately, that which feeds our souls also feeds our thighs. Or at least mine.
My first year living in Italy, I immediately espoused the “sono golosa” cultura, having been raised on it as a kid. What a great excuse to run wild….everyone accepts it, and I can be me! I was back in “comfort-food land”, a place and state-of-mind that brought me back to my childhood. I was instantly emancipated from the “lean and mean” all-American mentality that I, as a product (or victim) of the Jane Fonda generation, was effectively brainwashed (and still sadly am) to believe that in order to feel happy and successful, we must eat anorexic quantities of food and “feel the burn.”
I indulged myself at sagras, tested every aperitivo buffet in Florence, learned how to love lampredotto and carne bollito and went pazza for finocchiona . I got to know every food stall at the market and developed an ardent appreciation for an exhaustive list of cured meats and other fatal foods. I went through a liter of olive oil per month, a gelato and a bottle of Chianti per day (which at first enhanced the food but maybe now it’s a problem?). I quickly realized that there’s a prescriptive food for every conceivable illness, olive oil being one of the most important, because it lubricates and allows everything else to “slip right through”. To me it’s another dimple in the thigh.
I thought I would eventually burn out and get this “food is fun” lust out of my system. I trusted that Florentine Italians must be doing something right since they are not fat in spite of the food obsession. So all I needed to do was to imitate it.
Although many Americans think that Italians are skinny because they eat small portions and walk a lot, I haven’t met those Italians yet. I instead have observed that they eat a lot and they eat often, albeit much more elegantly, slowly (since they are equally busy talking) and artfully than Americans do. They certainly don’t walk, cycle or sweat as much as I do and I’m probably the only woman in town who owns a full set of dumb bells.
They rarely consume one course, wine is a given, and gelato is the high of highs. Their diet is based on fatty and cured meats, bread, pasta, olive oil and lard. Yes they love veggies, but their menus are overwhelmingly carb and fat based. The concept of a calorie has not entered their consciousness although the American influence is slowly creeping in. They eat into the wee hours of the morning. God forbid…if Italian restaurants were to disclose the calorie content on their food menus, it would kill the tourism business and knock off a serious chunk of GDP, if there even is one anymore.
The Italians who I know talk about what they are going to eat, eat it, and then talk about what they ate. So, why are they skinny? Bulimia? Genes? I don’t know, but I unfortunately wasn’t born with it. I inherited an Italian fat gene and have struggled with it all my life. I don’t know whether to blame my Sicilian side or my Neopolitan side, but my family just didn’t get this right. Thank God for Jane Fonda.
Somehow Jane saved the day. She enabled me to become a cheerleader and to excel in competitive sports such as cycling in spite of the insidious golosità that lurked in my blood, threatening to emerge the moment I dropped the ball.
And then the ball dropped. Along with my destiny in Italy, it was bound to happen. On September 8, 2008 my most distant dreams and fears simultaneouslycame true. I moved to the land that I love, and the ghost came out of the closet.
I am surrounded by temptations from the minute I open my window. Within yards of my house there are 7 restaurants, a gelateria immediately downstairs, 2 pastry shops, a butcher, a forno, and a few "street food" joints. Walk further and it’s pure sabotage. I can’t fetch my bike from the piazza without being assaulted by the smell of food emanating from everywhere.
So I am finally saying "basta"! My love affair with food will never end, but I am figuring out how to enjoy the passion of living in dreamland without overindulging. I don’t want to go back to the Jane Fonda mentality but there has to be a balance.
One month ago I designed a five-star program to deal with it. It is really working so far! So, if you’re interested in finding out more, I promise to write about it in a future blog post. See you then!
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Sensational Spring in Tuscany
Cycling inTuscany is intoxicating at any time of year, but springtime is especially enticing. Covering so much territory while breathing in the perfume of spring flowers and watching the Tuscan earth bursting with such energy is a heady experience. Today, guiding a bike tour, these were just a few of the Tuscan treasures that we saw along the road...
Wild, elegant iris flanking the roads. Beholding them in their natural environment is a gift!
Sangiovese grapes just starting to pop from the vines....new life is so invigorating to see! What does this year's harvest have in store?
We were only 2k into our ride when we were greeted by a small flock of sheep! Pecorino in the making!
And oh! The olive trees are frizzante with bubbly baby olives growing from their leaves...
Stupefied by the allure of spring popping around us, we had to take a pause and headed to Le Corti winery for a fabulous lunch, wine/olive oil tasting and a tour of the wine cellars and olive press...
After which we saw Massimo picking the most luscious bing cherries from his enormous front yard tree in Chiesanuova! As we gazed in awe from the road, he invited us in through the front gate, climbed up the ladder and brought us a basket full of cherries. He wouldn't let me leave without giving me his telephone number, so cute! I pass by this house several times a week and never noticed the tree, because it was never so ripe with fruit. Massimo and I are now friends for life!
Artichokes budding like roses!
Happy clients! See the sheep in the background?
Peaches in the foreground, Florence in the distance
Another sensational day on the road. I will never tire of this!
Monday, May 14, 2012
Eleven Years of the Giro d'Italia
.
It was more than 40 years ago at the age of 15 that I was first exposed to the world of bicycle racing. During the summer of '69 I had the great fortune to study in Grenoble, France, where I watched the Tour de France as it descended Alpe d'Huez. Not only did Eddy Merckx take the stage but it was the year that he took his first yellow jersey. Since then, it's been in my blood.
Years later I would come to love the Giro d'Italia even more. Eleven years ago, in 2001, I escaped New York City for a serious bike tour in Italy that followed the last 5 stages of the Giro d'Italia. Not only did it solidify my love for cycling and for Italy, but it eerily turned out to be a pre-vision of my future. Here is the article I wrote 11 years ago which was published in the New York Cycle Club monthly newsletter. I dug it up today and read it for the first time in many years. Following the 2001 Giro d'Italia.
Three months later, all my dreams including this one, came to an instant halt by the event of Sept 11. Thrust from my home in the shadow of the World Trade Center, I was in survival mode for the next 5 years, struggling to regain my sanity and the few pieces of my life that still remained. Of the material things, I was lucky to salvage a few pieces of furniture, a plant, and the documents on my hard drive, which included the article above.
Well, this dream as well as many other ones came true. I never would have imagined that today, I would be living in Tuscany, watching the Giro d'Italia pass through my own backyard. I never dreamed that I would discover that I've been an Italian citizen all my life and never knew it. Italy's been calling me for a long, long time.
Tomorrow, I'll be joining thousands of cyclists from all over Tuscany to follow Stage 11 of the Giro d'Italia. Finding the article that I wrote 11 years ago made me think of how I have not only survived the aftermath of September 11th, but how I have thrived and have become a stronger person with a newly founded spirit. A spirit that has found the environment where it thrives the best. And how grateful I am to be alive and living out my dream in Italy.
Years later I would come to love the Giro d'Italia even more. Eleven years ago, in 2001, I escaped New York City for a serious bike tour in Italy that followed the last 5 stages of the Giro d'Italia. Not only did it solidify my love for cycling and for Italy, but it eerily turned out to be a pre-vision of my future. Here is the article I wrote 11 years ago which was published in the New York Cycle Club monthly newsletter. I dug it up today and read it for the first time in many years. Following the 2001 Giro d'Italia.
Three months later, all my dreams including this one, came to an instant halt by the event of Sept 11. Thrust from my home in the shadow of the World Trade Center, I was in survival mode for the next 5 years, struggling to regain my sanity and the few pieces of my life that still remained. Of the material things, I was lucky to salvage a few pieces of furniture, a plant, and the documents on my hard drive, which included the article above.
Well, this dream as well as many other ones came true. I never would have imagined that today, I would be living in Tuscany, watching the Giro d'Italia pass through my own backyard. I never dreamed that I would discover that I've been an Italian citizen all my life and never knew it. Italy's been calling me for a long, long time.
Tomorrow, I'll be joining thousands of cyclists from all over Tuscany to follow Stage 11 of the Giro d'Italia. Finding the article that I wrote 11 years ago made me think of how I have not only survived the aftermath of September 11th, but how I have thrived and have become a stronger person with a newly founded spirit. A spirit that has found the environment where it thrives the best. And how grateful I am to be alive and living out my dream in Italy.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Change
This morning I reached into my purse to pay for a cappucino and out came these quarters. It's funny how a little thing can be so momentarily striking and thought provoking. I was caught by surprise because I must have put them there when I was in California a month ago. It just seems so far away, another lifetime.
It made me think of how much my life has changed and how fortunate I am to have found my new life in Italy. Every day my feet get planted deeper and deeper into the Italian earth.
Tonight while walking down my street, a violinist was on the sidewalk playing the softest Vivaldi. Not an uncommon sight in the zone where I live. Along with a loose Euro, I dropped the quarters in his violin case and thanked him for adding such sweet music to this glorious spring day in Florence.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
The Perfect Combination: A Lot of Bach and A Little Bit of Slow Food
After living in Florence for 3 years I'm still overwhelmend by the boundless repetoire of cultural events the city has to offer. I often find myself having to make trade-offs, because the choices are so many and so diverse. Additionally, over the past few years, Florence has expanded its role as host-city for various extraordinary international world-class events, making for an ever-growing list of rich and often unique options. Florence is one enormous cultural amusement park that changes every day and I am an addicted participant. Just today, the city of Florence announced 2700 cultural events taking place here in 2012!
This weekend offered a long list of one-time events, but the choice was very clear. From Friday through Sunday, Florence played host to the first World Bach-Fest, two full days of round-the-clock, nonstop music, master classes, films and concerts dedicated to Johann Sebastian Bach and brought to life by Ramin Bahrami. I attended the opening night inaugural concert at Teatro Comunale and was afforded a VIP seat through my acquaintance with a friend and opera critic which made it an especially rich learning experience for me. For the next two days and straight through Saturday night, Palazzo Vecchio staged an extensive array of musical performances presented by the world’s top Bach experts, making for an outstanding first-ever musical manifestation.
 |
| Ramin Bahrami after signing his CD for me! |
I was among the first to arrive early on Saturday morning to secure a seat and receive my entry badge. The event was open to the public but limited to 500 seats in the Salone dei Cinquecento. Hypnotized by the music, the genius of the musicians and especially the budding young talent, I lost all sense of time and became affixed to my seat for hours on end, as time stood still.
I don't think the organizers or anyone in Florence expected such an overwhelming turnout. The 500 seats were exhausted by 10am. As the day grew longer, hundreds of people waited in queue in Piazza Signoria for hours, hoping for some way to get in. But the limit of 500 was strictly enforced. Luckily, there was a big screen mounted above the Loggia dei Lanzi which availed a glimpse of the action taking place to those observers in the piazza. I just heard today that the total turnout was 8,000 people!
I don't think the organizers or anyone in Florence expected such an overwhelming turnout. The 500 seats were exhausted by 10am. As the day grew longer, hundreds of people waited in queue in Piazza Signoria for hours, hoping for some way to get in. But the limit of 500 was strictly enforced. Luckily, there was a big screen mounted above the Loggia dei Lanzi which availed a glimpse of the action taking place to those observers in the piazza. I just heard today that the total turnout was 8,000 people!
I didn't get much sleep during this nonstop musical weekend but was able to sneak back and forth home to take in a few power naps without losing my seat in the wee hours of the morning. It was a unique opportunity to spend day and night within the sacred walls of the Salone dei Cinquecento surrounding myself with some of the world's greatest musical talent. A chance that may never happen again.
For me, the highlight of this magical musical weekend was the opportunity to observe the master classes given to young budding Bach musicians by Ramin Bahrmi. It was my first time ever seeing a master class of this caliber in person and thus was very special.
For me, the highlight of this magical musical weekend was the opportunity to observe the master classes given to young budding Bach musicians by Ramin Bahrmi. It was my first time ever seeing a master class of this caliber in person and thus was very special.
With a little bit of clever planning, I was able to enjoy two unique events this weekend for the perfect musical-culinary combination.....a delight for all of my senses.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
The Calm Before the Storm
I love this time of year in Florence. It's no longer winter but spring has not yet arrived, it's that in-between season when roasted chestnuts are a memory, the artichokes are barely breaking ground and the baccelli are at least a month away. The sagre haven't yet begun. One day it is brisk and the next day warm and so we don't know quite how to dress and it's not consistently warm enough to attract crowds. The sun has been optimistically shining!
It's still off-season, overlooked by tourists, perhaps my favorite season in Florence. It's completly the domain of the Florentines, who seem to go into hiding when the swallows reappear and the tourists come out. It's not too quiet, not too loud and it's filled with anticipation and fantasy. The concerts, theater and operas, where I seldom see a visitor, belong to the residents. It's a distinct season into itself, a season of anticipation, a pre-spring, a sort of "on the cusp" time of year....we are living on the edge of our seats waiting for Spring to confirm itself. The calm before the storm.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)