A Post Summer Update

If I had followers, I would write that I am an atypical blogger.

Posts are becoming fewer and fewer, and my will to write is in constant negotiation with the doubt of doing it properly in another language. Not to mention that I have no comments whatsoever.

Then I happen to see the stats and it says that I had 7541 page views since starting this blog. And the most visited one is The Guestbook, with FIVE VIEWS and absolutely no comment. Not even SPAM.
The internet is taking the piss.

However, summer has passed. September is here, and the longing for the warmth of that sun, and the taste of the sea on the skin, is still lingering. I went around and about. In the previous post, Berlin. Then Paris.

Paris that sometimes looks evil and distant in her everlasting charm and little snobbery. 

Cecì n'èst pas la place pour toi.

Finally, our little beloved village in Southern Italy, Porto Cesareo. And the black notebook following me everywhere, gathering ideas, shears of dialogues, random pieces of a story. Yes, I am writing.

 

Some new projects were developed over the summer, and some other are coming.
All I can tell you is, bear with me. I'll stretch my legs and start running again.

On the wrong side of the road: back to Berlin.

I have discovered the joys of traveling early in the morning to catch low cost flights.
Sleeping just a couple of hours, waking up at 3 am and observing the city going to sleep from a cab. Experiencing the sunrise from the train, everything dipped in a golden pond of light. Joining other travellers, single or in groups, everyone silently pondering their thoughts while they are wired in.
It wasn't my first time in Berlin, but it certainly was a first in terms of experiencing the city from another point of view.
Tourists go around by the underground to the main touristy attractions. Special guests who have the luck of having a friend with a spare bike available, go around pedalling and see much more.
I thought London was a bike-friendly city, but I had to reconsider: the broadness of Berlin's roads and liveable traffic allows you to cycle safe and sound. For pedestrians, though, it's another story.

I went to see my artist friend Silvia Iorio and her latest, successful exhibitions, to which I am dedicating a special post. Silvia likes to ride the bike on the pavement and on the wrong side of the road, especially doing the giant slalom among Germans and tourists alike. Moreover, not to squeeze in impossibly narrow passages is not an option. We spent the first half of my arrival day trying hard to find a haven for Ike (pictured), also known as The Travel Companion.
The poor little swallow was trailing along the concrete passageway that links Schonenfeld Airport to the train station, unable to stand or to fly. And then he ran into me and my inability to leave little and plumed things be, because-I-know-they-need-my-help. We left him in the Berlin's Zoo precinct after he vividly expressed his displeasure of being carried around in an unrequested human hand by leaving a pretty big souvenir on my trousers.
Fair enough. Next time I promise I will fight my Saint Francis syndrome, as I call it.
I hope he didn't hit the tigers' cage, though.

Silvia and I crossed the city far and wide, fluttering from an exhibition to the other and from a dinner to the next. From the Indian Embassy to the Jewish Museum, from Spanish paella to the amazing seafood linguine of Italian restaurant Da Papa', on Uhlandestrasse. We explored flea markets, tried to reach Potsdam but were stopped by our own hunger and preferred to visit a cafe', and actually crossed the Sony Centre on the bike during a presentation of The Green Lantern movie, where the red carpet was actually green.

Pictures are bitty and far from satisfactory, but here we go.

 

A special mention goes to the hideaway Tadshikische Teeshube, a beautiful tea house brought in Berlin straight from Tajikistan. In conclusion, there is only one recommendation I can give you about Berlin in summer: mind that cyclist!

That is the question

Hello, my invisible readers.

It's been a while and yes, I am pretty busy, but this absence also bears some speculations that I am going to share with you right before February ends and there will be no post to read under this month.

Ups, February has ended, I am just re-opening this post today and it will now be published under March. Whatever.

The point is, it is not very exciting to have a blog if you don't have an interacting community. I know I have made some mistakes: I write in English, but it's not my mother tongue, so the few blessed souls that bump in this rantings must have some serious difficulty. I have discovered lately, while writing a proposal for a show, that sometimes my sentences don't really make any sense.
The reason being that of the phrase construction, which is still unfortunately set on Italian.

At the same time, writing in English excludes all the lazy Italian community, people who usually love to interact but make darn sure not to in another language. In conclusion, I speak about something not everyone is interested in and that is taken very, too seriously to be joked about: curating. Organising shows. Basically, I am in no man's land.

A decision is needed, and I must admit that I miss writing in my own language, con il quale ho molte piu' possibilita' espressive nonostante la mancanza delle lettere accentate sulle tastiere Inglesi. Apprezzate la fluidita'. Testate lo scorrere del linguaggio, senza intoppi da momentanea ricerca del termine giusto sul vocabolario. Aaaah, mi sento come se mi stessi sgranchendo le gambe (sgranchire! Ma come si dira' in Inglese...), o stirando le membra (stretching my limbs? Sounds poetic...)

I don't want to get rid of the English of course: I love writing like this, despite the fact that I am unable to totally grasp every nuance of this language. Let me tell you that I am inaugurating a new section of the blog, "In Italiano".
Qui troverete dei post scritti nella mia lingua natia che pero' non avro' il tempo di tradurre in Inglese...anche perche' potrebbero esserci lamentele varie verso il paese ospitante.

Che forse e' pure ora.

Labels

Conversation in Rome:

A: "Look at you! You definitely are well!"
sy: "Ah, thanks. By the way, I brought something from London: scones! We can have them with mascarpone and marmalade because I had to leave the clotted cream behind..."
A: "Oh, you're so English."

Conversation in London:

B: "Are you having another beer?"
sy: "No thanks, I am fine."
B: "Oh, you're so European."

First of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR! 

To be totally honest with you, I would rather have nailed myself to the old one and let it linger, just a little bit more. I really enjoyed the past year, for which I didn't have great expectations and instead it turned out to be very productive, therefore I am welcoming the new one with a bit of wariness.
But it's just a sensation and will dissipate very quickly, as the division of time in years is just a notion: to comfort myself, I have started to think about time as a continued, uninterrupted flow.
It's up to us to make this new year work, not the stars or the planets' conjunction.

The year 2010 ended accompanied by many sensations.
The ones discussed in the reported conversations, for example. The labels that make you feel an in-betweener. You go home and everyone sees you as very English (??), whereas when you come back to your new home, where you started to feel even more comfortable (!!), here it comes this sort of disillusion. The result is a question: where do you belong now, exactly?
Deep down, you know of course. Then why do you feel so strange, even physically, in your hometown?

About last post and all my purposes, I did respect many: I went around a lot, saw friends and family, wore short sleeved garments which left everyone astonished.

C: "Oh my God, aren't you cold?"
sy: "My dear, it's minus one in London! Here it's 18 degrees!"
C: "You've become so..."
sy: "English, I know. In fact, it's called acclimatization."

The first days were accompanied by too much food and a persistent feeling of dizziness, nausea almost. I blamed it on the fact that the air must be much less polluted in Rome, but as you may imagine such symptoms bring up other kind of speculations, like pregnancy. Smile politely and let your interlocutor know that no, you're taking it easy. Same sentence as last year, of course.

After all of this is gone, you lapse yourself into family and friends cuddles, the true thing that makes you feel home once again. Some of them still ask you what is it that you miss the most. Well, after five minutes thinking, the answer is: definitely this, but unfortunately it's not unbearable anymore.
Not quite, at least.

I will leave you now with some pictures of places. Not the charming alleys of Rome that I so much wanted to visit again (and I did, avoiding the already mentioned traffic jam this time!), but other kind of places with their dense atmosphere.
Places where people come and go, sit comfortably for a while, share life, experiences, leave and come back the day after, or the year after.

Caffe' Necci, Rome

Caffe' Terzi, Bologna

Trattoria Anna Maria, Bologna: all frames contain greetings by very happy clients. No surprise: amazing tortellini.

Trastevere, Rome: please notice the blackboard next to the entrance.

Book store in Trastevere, Rome: I see Jamie Oliver has reached us

Very old Restaurant in Piazza Campo de' Fiori, Rome

I have stolen this last two pictures on a very crowded underground in Rome.
I had to act quickly, and pretend I was just browsing the images on my camera.

All I Don't Want This Christmas

1. I don't want to be stuck in London.
Although I have never spent Christmas here, and it would be nice, I don't want to start this year: since I have left my country, festivities and all they concern turned from being something that "has to be done" to something that I definitely want to do: spend time with the family. We will all be heartbroken if I missed those days because of the snow leaving airports in chaos. A Skype conference call won't do, this time.



2. I don't want to end up in front of the TV after the meals.
Whenever I go back, it seems like I never left. Therefore, I end up doing what I used to do, forgetting that I now see Rome twice a year if I am lucky; I should be out enjoying the beauty of my hometown, taking a stroll in the chilly air, remember what it is to look at hundreds of years of history. Rome during Christmas is a magic place to share with the people you love.

3. I don't want to be necessarily happy.
"Merry Christmas" is just a wish. People hope that you will be merry, but this doesn't mean that you have to. Well, putting bad feelings aside for a day or two can only do you good, but pretending is another matter. This would be my wish for Christmas: be yourself, whatever mood you woke up in.

4. I don't want to miss a thing.
Wish I wouldn't, at least. But when you've been away two years things happen, things which are not necessarily shared over the phone, things that put you, willy-nilly, out of the loop. Everyone is nice to you because you are there just for a short time and they don't want you to worry, or to burden you with anything. This is, in my opinion, even more worrying.

5. I don't want to eat too much.
I know: just a silly thought. It's just that food and alcohol fuddle you (which brings us back to point 2) and you end up always having the same discussions around the table: politics and your parents telling all the pranks you did as a child to your husband, in-laws and everyone happening to pop by for a quick greet.

6. I don't want to come back to London with yet another set of bed linens.
Of course presents are not important, but please, Auntie dear, please. To see the family all together is already a great present.

7. I don't want to forget this Christmas.
Let's admit it: we do do always the same stuff at Christmas; this makes the days muddled and interchangeable, making you forget what happened in the specific. This year could be the year before or the one after, and so on. Some changes in the routine will make an unforgettable day.

8. I don't want to make anyone unhappy.
I have put my best effort in the presents this year. I have searched, selected, and really thought about the people I am going to give them to. Little thoughts, nothing special, but everything is heart-made.

I would like to also add points 9 and 10 to have a nice, round list, but that's all for now.
For some serious good wishes, please come back later!

Pictured: my Christmas Ficus Tree and home-made garland, realised from scratch with till's receipts.

Something MAXXI is happening in Rome

Rome.

That's where I come from. I have been living in London for a long time now, and I really love it. I always think I do not miss Rome until I spend some days there, then things become embarrassing.

Like, for example, taking the car and throwing myself in the much dreaded road that goes alongside the river Tiber, the one I know it's always two hours traffic jam. Why? Just to say hello to some places. Just to see the beauty of my city once again, the magic of the Lungotevere, although I know it like the palm of my hand.

The little gothic church that is completely unmatched with its surroundings is still there. 

So is that bump on the road. 

Oh, look, there are more maintenance works for the third underground line, will they ever manage to finish it? 
Ah, here it comes Castel Sant'Angelo...

Oh, this is the place where I was with my friends on that evening when...

And so on.

Well I am not completely crazy, my journey of that day was aimed to a destination: the new museum for architecture and contemporary art that has just opened in Rome last May. It's called Museum of the Arts of the XXI century. In a word: MAXXI. How clever is this? We romans waited something like 10 years to see this museum finally completed. 

Ten. Years. 

I will save you the details on politics that would explain you why-on-earth did it take so long.

I went there with two friends: an artist and an architect. 

From outside, the concrete structure devised by Zaha Hadid seems to challenge the laws of standing buildings: from top to bottom, some parts entwine one in the other like a living geometric snake, with a section at the top culminating in a gigantic window facing the city. Inside, industrial stairs climb to the top in a net of patterns to follow, making the visitor unable to really orientate and therefore enhancing his or her curiosity. 

Not an easy space to put up shows (but which one is, nowadays?). After having enjoyed the beautiful solo show of Gino De Dominicis, in good company with Kutlung Ataman and the works from the Museum's Collection, I have asked my friends what they thought about it. The architect said that in his opinion the building, which should just contain art, was taking over a bit. The artist didn't really reply: she was completely mesmerized by De Dominicis' work, as we can see below.

I was really disappointed to hear that many of my fellow citizens criticised the fact that the project was given to a foreign architect rather than to an Italian: there was a context, and the best project won, that's all. Sometimes we seem to have this patriotic sparks only in the most inappropriate contexts.

I am proud that this Museum finally saw the light, and really liked the complex, not-white-cube-like space where art has to stand out in order not to be sucked in. When you reach the last level, where the big glass window is, you literally have to climb up the floor, which is slightly steep. All around the main hall, an installation by Maurizio Mochetti tries to draw in the the air with red tubes, interacting with the rest. On the middle level, a video by Studio Azzurro slowly scrolls about.

People were there. Not just arty people: families, tourists, youngsters, oldies, you name it. They sold 3500 tickets just on the first day and there was a queue as long as one for Madonna's concert.

Being Rome the capital of classic and ancient art, it has always been difficult for contemporary art to really find some public space. We have the MACRO Museum, and now there is also the MAXXI, but the attention was never great. Could we say that this might be a good start for the big leap forward everyone is waiting for?


Before leaving for some holidays*, in which I will go to the beach everyday and be exactly like the picture here on the right, a special mention to this picture, on the MAXXI's website. That really gives the idea of great team work.

Well done!



*this post was meant to be published on 07/07. I have now finished my holidays and came back to London, where the second appointment with The Bay Window Project is on.

Sorry,

We're temporarily CLOSED.
This is the week-end of calm before the storm, so we just decided to unplug our brains and have a little rest.

I now leave you with this song.
It's a lullaby in Italian which tells about a traveller and all the encounters you may have in a wonderful journey. Although it's in a different language, you may like it all the same.