Un Luogo Amato dall’Ammiraglio Lord Nelson

 

Un terzo di Londra consiste di verde ed è per questa ragione che la metropoli è stata dichiarata la prima città-parco nazionale nel mondo questo diciannove luglio. La prossima sarà Capetown nel Sud Africa. (In questo riguardo mi ricordo di una vecchia barzelleta su Milano quando si pensava che in quella città non ci fossero prati. ‘Sbagliate’, rispose uno, ‘c’è la Carlo Erba!’)

Tra il verde di Londra abbiamo, l’altro giorno, visitato Morden Hall Park.

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Siamo arrivati col tram (ritornato alla città dopo una scomparsa durata cinquant’anni) da Wimbledon, scendendo alla stazione di Phipp’s bridge.

 

Morden Hall Park è un parco del National Trust (l’equivalente della FAI) situato sulle rive del fiume Wandle, un affluente del Tamigi.

 

Copre oltre cinquanta ettari e il fiume Wandle serpeggia per il parco, attraversato da numerose passerelle pedonali.

 

La tenuta contiene Morden Hall, ora molto di moda per i matrimoni, Morden Cottage, due mulini ad acqua e una scuderia ora trasformata in un caffè-bar, uno spazio espositivo e una libreria con libri di seconda mano. Ospita anche un bel vivaio e ‘garden centre’.

 

Il roseto formale intorno al cottage ospita oltre 2000 rose e un’insolita collezione di alberi ornamentali, tra i quali uno dei più antichi tassi in Inghilterra.

 

Il parco contiene una bella varietà di paesaggiste, boschi, prati e una zona paludosa attraversata da una passerella.

 

 

C’è anche una fattoria, dove si possono comprare le uova fresche.

 

 

Aggiungo che vicino al parco esisteva una volta Merton Place, dimora amena del ammiraglio Nelson che qui trascorse liete giornate con la sua bella Lady Hamilton prima di vincere la battaglia di Trafalgar, una vittoria sigillata con la sua morte.

 

 

Il verde è amore,

sempre scorrerà il fiume:

l’eterno sboccio.

 

 

 

 

D-day, B-day?

It is ironic and tragic that those people, so young and so brave, who fought for a new, liberated Europe, free from bloody conflict and united in a common good, are being celebrated by some European politicians (including, shamefully, those in my country which remained a beacon of hope throughout the war) who want the break-up of this new Europe so many died for and which has (so far) ensured that re-incarnations of toothbrush-moustached corporals and swaggering predappian baldies, even in the figures of those junk-shop imitations, farago and boojo, will never again soil our beautiful and pleasant lands.

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/brexit-vote-d-day-anniversary-veterans-ww2-eu-europe-a8946046.html

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Il Giorno della Liberazione – Stile Inglese

Today would have been ‘Freedom day’ for some brits. For others it would have amounted to banishment, Kleenex tissues and copious amounts of strong spirits. I need not tell you what I am referring to –  I don’t want to add to the thousands of patients suffering from a now well-defined mental disturbance caused by stress and anxiety deriving from a situation created by politicians who wouldn’t even be able to decide on their lunch menu at BDL’s ‘Circolo dei Forestieri’.

I just wonder if there will be enough psychotherapists left in the UK once most of the continental ones have fled from an island inhabited  by sympathisers of ‘European Researchers’. What an irony that it was this same island that gave refuge to an eminent psychoanalyst fleeing from Nazi persecution. His name, of course, was Sigmund Freud and I just wonder what he would have said about it all. Perhaps that UK is suffering from a Nordic version of the Oedipus complex termed the Hárbarðsljóð syndrome, the name deriving from a Norse legend dealing with a verbal combat between Thor, the god of thunder and a mysterious ferryman, who introduces himself as Harbard but is, in fact, Odin, the king of the Gods, disguised.

The concept of a ferry fits the UK archipelago of islands rather appropriately – if ferry companies without ferries are not employed! The verbal duel is equally apposite when looking at the almost three years of somewhat wasted negotiations between the UK and the EU.

The fact is that the UK, having shed its venerable figure lording it over an empire on which the sun never used to set, is still finding it difficult to be re-born as an infant who is having a somewhat fraught relationship with its re-discovered mum, Europe. (And don’t give me that shit about Europa being abducted by Jove who transformed himself into a bull).

Verbal duels have abounded in the hothouse Cloche merle atmosphere of Bagni di Lucca where a rag, tag and bobtail clump of brits have found themselves planted for varying periods of time, either permanently or part-timely. Cutting across these brits are no longer those decisions over which aperitivo to drink or what kind of pizza to savour – these, sadly, are discussions long-since dimmed in the once amicable sunset. No, it is now a choice between full English brexfast and continental caffexistance with brioche in the morning, with a few shades of Earl Greys and Americanos in-between.

The pages of FB which, for many members of this crew, have surpassed the time watching DVD’s of ‘The Good Life’ or leafing through the pages of some monstrous biography of a Britannic worthy, are full of the most varied comments on the subject, ranging from virtuous to vitriolic, from tender to toxic, from sense, to common sense to nonsense.

What has always flabbergasted me is how brits in love with Italy and all the gorgeous things it can offer and who, in some cases, are even resident here, could have believed the bojo trash at all – Bojo who, incidentally, gave a hard time to the daughter of one of Italy’s best commentators on the UK and resident there since Beatle mania days. (Find out who she is yourselves…).

Of course I might quote that eminent politician Keith Hacker who declared that ‘I have nothing against Europe – it’s just Brussels I can’t stand.’

Already, here is a clear distinction made between the effete French fry and the sumptuously soggy chip… Should we now rename the Brussel sprout the Bexhill spud?

I quote from a friend whose female common-sense I have treasured ever since I was a teenager:

Francis, I think we must resist implying that Leave voters are stupid. It doesn’t dignify the Remainers’ stance. I have some highly intelligent friends who voted to leave. Having said that, when I ask what benefits there will be to being outside the EU, I am yet to get an answer, let alone a cogent one. It was, I’m sure, an emotional vote for many Leavers. It is the most horribly polarising thing I can remember in my lifetime, I think. It really has become a taboo subject with several friends I know and love. A national tragedy on many levels.

To which I answered:

Yes …all this quite unnecessary nonsense has done is to divide people, families and friends in a way not seen since the Reformation or, dare I say it, the Civil War. It’s like putting to referenda questions like ‘do you believe in/support God/abortion/same sex marriage/death penalty/abolishing the bourka/faith schools/diesel cars/ etc. etc. These are issues to be settled in Parliament with representatives voted in by us the people. We all have a right to our own opinions and an equal right to discuss them with other people without fear of being bullied. This Brexit thing should NEVER have been raised to a political issue to be thrown to the person in the street to decide by a referendum without a proper quorum of 60%. Whatever the outcome there will need to be a peace, reconciliation and healing committee to patch up the UK nation where, this morning, I hear the news that anxiety and stress caused by Brexit is the fastest growing mental disturbance being treated by the NHS…

A few days ago our area of Bagni di Lucca was hit by strong winds, which, although they did not bring the devastation of March 2015, caused enough concern and damage to worry all of us especially my olive grove.

As I wrote, again on FB:

“Howl, howl, howl, howl!” (Shakespeare ‘King Lear’ act V )
“Urlate, urlate, urlate! Oh!”(Shakespeare ‘Re Lear’ atto V)

Not as bad as the night of March 5th 2015 (see https://longoio2.wordpress.com/…/…/the-night-of-the-tornado/) but still pretty awesome and awful…

To which a friend, denizen of the UK, but not from the England bit, wittily responded thus:

I thought you were talking about Brexit, and then I saw the photos…

Yesterday I righted things in my olive grove and wrote in FB:

Repairing hurricane damage to my ‘orto’. Let’s see if crutches and stones at base will help the olives. Problem is that quite thick roots have been severed. We can but try. Thanks to Sandra for tip about using stones. The trees are well and truly stoned in expectation of the next howling blast.

To which another friendly wit (this time from the England Bit of the as yet UK) responded thus:

Coincidentally, Francis, ‘..well and truly stoned in expectation of the next howling blast’ rather neatly sums up the mood in the UK at present 

Actually, the mentality us brits in Italy need is inscribed on this plaque, already described at greater length in my post at https://longoio3.com/2019/03/26/15142/

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Meanwhile I wish you all a happy survival, remaining leavers in Bagni di Lucca comune……

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(Outside the Westminster municipal lunatic asylum with European Supergirl Madeleina Kay and Young European of the Year for 2018 earlier this year).

The Italian Red Cross: a Beacon of Humanity and Fraternity

That the history of the Red Cross in Italy reflects the history of the nation itself was clearly brought out in the afternoon conference held yesterday in the Rose room of the Circolo dei Forestieri.

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The Red Cross is an example of the best of Italy – not the stereotyped picture of back-handers and corruption but of the prime glory of this extraordinary country – its sense of acting together in desperate situations, its not counting the cost, its amazing acts of bravery and its immense source of volunteers – whether they be fire-fighters, ambulance drivers, social workers or educationalists. There are not many people in Bagni di Lucca who haven’t been helped by the local Red Cross branch in some way.

I had initially no plans to attend this highly interesting session as it was such a lovely spring equinox afternoon and I was busy planting fruit trees in my little field:

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However, I thought I’d wander down to Bagni di Lucca and was truly rewarded. This was the programme:

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I was enchanted by the special parade uniform of the volunteer nurses. At first I thought they were wearing it as a historical evocation. In fact, no stylist had thought of changing their uniform since the last war!

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The session opened solemnly with us on our feet to listen to the mission statement of the Red Cross and Crescent movement with its seven main points:

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  • Humanity: The International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement, born of a desire to bring assistance without discrimination to the wounded on the battlefield, endeavours, in its international and national capacity, to prevent and alleviate human suffering wherever it may be found. Its purpose is to protect life and health and to ensure respect for the human being. It promotes mutual understanding, friendship, cooperation and lasting peace amongst all peoples.
  • Impartiality: It makes no discrimination as to nationality, race, religious beliefs, class or political opinions. It endeavours to relieve the suffering of individuals, being guided solely by their needs, and to give priority to the most urgent cases of distress.
  • Neutrality: In order to continue to enjoy the confidence of all, the Movement may not take sides in hostilities or engage at any time in controversies of a political, racial, religious or ideological nature.
  • Independence: The Movement is independent. The National Societies, while auxiliaries in the humanitarian services of their governments and subject to the laws of their respective countries, must always maintain their autonomy so that they may be able at all times to act in accordance with the principles of the Movement.
  • Voluntary service: It is a voluntary relief movement not prompted in any manner by desire for gain.
  • Unity: There can be only one Red Cross or one Red Crescent Society in anyone country. It must be open to all. It must carry on its humanitarian work throughout its territory.
  • Universality: The International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement, in which all Societies have equal status and share equal responsibilities and duties in helping each other, is worldwide.

The speakers were all excellent, covering the history of the Red Cross which, in Italy, has its origin in the Comitato dell’Associazione Italiana per il soccorso ai feriti ed ai malati in guerra in Milan in 1864.

 

 

The year is important because it marks the beginning of the newly unified Kingdom of Italy and its long healing stage from the battle for independence, in particular from the battle of Solférino which truly marked the beginning of the International Red Cross movement.  It was the evangelical Swiss preacher Henry Dunant who, arriving on the day of the battle and seeing the terrible carnage, was shocked by the disorganized relief for the wounded,

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Dunant re-organized assistance to the wounded, brought them to the cathedral of Castiglione delle Stiviere and there, with the help of the population, especially women, relief was given to all, regardless of which side they were fighting for, but, instead, practising the motto “Tutti Fratelli” (‘all brothers’)

Later Dunant wrote “A memoir of Solferino” and founded the International Red Cross.

The point all speakers made was that, prior to the founding of the Red Cross, the wounded soldiers of the battlefield were not considered neutral – each side looked after its own casualties. The new idea of the Red Cross was to regard all casualties on the field impartially.

Since that time the Italian Red Cross has expanded its scope to cover not only war casualties outside Italy but also natural disasters. Particularly poignant were the conference contributions of Red Cross volunteers who have assisted in places like Iraq and Libya and, in Italy, the devastating 2016 Amatrice earthquake which caused over 300 dead and the destruction of a large part of the town. One of the volunteers who were present at the earthquake was still a teenager at the time and confessed how it changed his whole outlook on life for ever.

Two of the speakers mentioned Florence and I thought immediately of the great ‘lady of the lamp’ who laid down the foundations of modern nursing, named by her parents after the city she was born in 1820. I was, invited by the chair Marco Nicoli, to give my own little contribution on Florence Nightingale mentioning five places we had visited associated with her:

  • Her birthplace in the villa Colombaia near Florence’s Porta Romana and her memorial plaque in Santa Croce’s main cloister (Sandra remembers how she assisted her father, secretary general and photographer for the Italian Institute of London in taking a photograph of the memorial).

 

 

  • Claydon house where Florence was brought up as a typical aristocratic nineteenth century girl.

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  • The battlefields of the Crimea which we visited in 2004 (when it was still part of the Ukraine) and the hospital at Scutari where Florence brought her healing touch.

 

 

  • The Herbert and Saint Thomas hospitals in London which Nightingale encouraged War Minister Herbert to build according to her ideas and adjoining Saint Thomas the Florence Nightingale museum with many objects belonging to her including her medicine chest.

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Here is an 1890 recording of Florence Nightingale’s voice. I think it is so moving!

I finished my contribution by quoting that haunting line from Wilfred Owen’s poem ‘Strange meeting’ which sums it all up really:

I am the enemy you killed, my friend…

It is paradoxical that human and natural disasters can bring out the worse in humanity in the form of scavengers and unspeakable torment and yet, at the same time, bring out the best: that common bond of humanity and love which deep, in our hearts, may unite and provide hope for the future of our planet.

 

 

Don’t Miss Out on Ponte’s Casinò this Week!

Bagni di Lucca Ponte’s exhibition at the casinò celebrating International Women’s day also includes several events. On Facebook I publicised the inaugural concert at the casinò given by Eleonora Tirrito and Valentina Bartoli, who performed classic songs ranging from Modugno to Nina Simone and Carole King (and their own too). Here are a few snippets from it:

https://www.youtube.com/edit?o=U&video_id=Q0BPtfexn4Y

 

It’s amazing that, given its quality, this was the first concert the two artistes gave. They were naturally a little nervous and my main criticism would have been that there should have been less introductory chat but I’m quite sure that they’ll have realised this by now.

The technical backup for sound and light show, incidentally, was excellent.

Another event which I had publicised was the evening dedicated to Napoleon’s sister, Paolina Borghese.

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This was another fascinating occasion with some excellent contributions.

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Paolina’s bodyguard also made a special appearance at Bagni di Lucca:

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The short documentary on Paolina was beautifully produced and included locations in Elba and Rome associated with a person who was truly a precursor of ‘women’s lib’. ‘I’m still waiting for a 14th July for women’ said Paolina and instead of posing as Diana for the sculptor Canova, (‘what me as a chaste goddess?’) decided on being the Venus Victrix in that well-known statue at Rome’s Villa Borghese.

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Bruno Micheletti, head of the local historical society, followed with a clear talk on Paolina’s sister Elisa, better known by the Lucchesi since she was princess of Lucca. Bruno mentioned Elisa’s efforts in town planning in Lucca, which did not go too well with the locals, especially as a church, famed for its miraculous picture, was demolished to give way to today’s Piazza Napoleone. Indeed, the Lucchesi don’t like to name the place with the Emperor’s name but rather as the ‘Piazza Grande’. Bruno also stated that few Lucchesi lamented Elisa’s departure from their city when the Napoleonic Empire collapsed.

You can read more about Elisa’s town planning at Lucca in my post at:

https://longoio.wordpress.com/2013/11/19/town-planning-elisa-style/

Parenthetically, Elisa is buried in Bologna’s San Petronio church as I have described in my facebook entry at

https://www.facebook.com/fpettitt/posts/10214908440239059

Regarding Paolina, a find by our local historical association revealed that she visited Bagni di Lucca as late as 1824, the year before she died.

A nephew of Elisa, incidentally, was the Emperor Napoleon III who, exiled after his defeat in the Franco-Prussian war, was buried at Farnborough. You can read all about this fascinating link between Lucca and Farnborough in my facebook entry at

https://www.facebook.com/fpettitt/posts/10214823717241037

The captivating evening on Paolina Borghese was concluded by an account of the supremely elegant ‘Empire style’ in furniture by Renata Frediani. Such classic items as the lyre chair:

and the boat bed

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are from this era.

Renata emphasised the fact that the Empire style was also regarded as a male ‘military’ style and was a direct reaction against the floral frivolity and elaboration of the feminine grace of the ‘ancien regime’s’ Louis XVI chic.

Paolina’s seaside villa in Viareggio has been beautifully restored with the help of Renata Frediani with original Empire furniture. It’s definately a place to go and visit.  For more information see:

https://www.visittuscany.com/en/attractions/villa-paolina-civic-museum-in-viareggio/

My next event for women’s week at Bagni di Lucca’s casino’ will be this evening’s presentation of ‘Women in music and art’ by Francesca Rafanelli Maffucci.

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Incidentally, Francesca is the wife of Samuele Maffucci (see https://www.facebook.com/samuele.maffucciorganaro.3) who works with our local San Cassiano lad Enrico Barsanti, well-known for his organ playing skills. It’s another event not to be missed.

 

 

A Beautiful View in the Südtirol

In my post on my father at https://longoio3.com/2018/11/02/happy-birthday-papa/ I included the following paragraph:

Serving in the Eighth army under Monty in WWII, and at the battle of El Alamein, my father was then transferred to the Italian peninsula. It was here in the closing days of 1945 that he met my mother who was a nurse in the Tyrol. He was immediately infatuated by her with her amazing looks and her long Veronica Lake-like hair. I remember the sketch Harvey did of the mountain refuge restaurant where they would meet. (My dad was a brilliant amateur artist and, if given more time off from work, could have done a lot more in this art). Many years later Harvey and Vera returned to the place; the owners were still the same and it was truly a touching re-union.

I have since been contacted by a cousin who, quite by chance, mentioned she possessed some drawings which might have included something by my father. My cousin sent me photocopies of the drawings and I instantly recognised my father’s signature in one of them and, indeed, his style of drawing.

Subsequently, my cousin very kindly sent me the original drawing and here it is!

Although it’s not (as I remember the sketch) of the restaurant terrace of the hotel, it remains the ‘Albergo Bella Vista Monte Bullacia, Alpe de Suisi’, in the region of Sud Tirol, Italy. (The nearest big town to the hotel is Cortina d’Ampezzo).

The date next to my father’s signature shows 1945.

This is the albergo Bella Vista today.

I don’t have very much belonging to my dad in my possession (except, of course half of my genes) so this is truly a valuable possession.

Coincidentally, on the day this January that I received the photocopy of the drawings., I was waiting for the train at Bagni di Lucca railway station when I met an artist friend and his friend.

I mentioned to them about the possibility that I might receive the original of my father’s picture and showed them the photocopy. On the train the artist’s friend showed me on his cell-phone a photo of a war-time sketch his father had made. It was almost certainly of mountains in the Südtirol area and was drawn with the same fine-black-pen technique that my father used. (A copy of this other drawing is being sent to me)

I believe in intentional coincidences, if such an oxymoron can exist.

(I could add that my wife’s mum was born in the adjoining region just south of the hotel…)

Our lives are as gigantic jigsaw puzzles made up of myriads of tiny pieces which, in providential cases, fit together. Only find and only connect………

 

So was this the place

where thoughts of my life began:

amid snow-mountains?

 

 

 

 

 

Il Bunker della Battaglia Del Regno Unito

E’ qui che Churchill disse “mai nel campo degli conflitti umani così tanti dovettero così tanto a così pochi”.

Visitai ieri, sotto un  nevischio, il bunker segreto a Uxbridge, centro di comando, sotto il Maresciallo Dowding, dell’undicesimo gruppo della RAF che, con i suoi mitici caccia Spitfire e Hurricane, nell’estate del 1940 causarono la prima sconfitta del regime nazista nella ‘Battle of Britain’ – la battaglia d’Inghilterra – così, assistendo gli alleati nel 1944, dai porti inglesi, di sbarcare in Normandia e porre fine alla Seconda Guerra Mondiale.

Questo bunker è un luogo veramente valoroso nella storia dell’Europa democratica e anche importante per le donne, che qui assunsero nel loro lavoro un importanza strategica di primo grado.

Il locale è stato rimesso com’era il 15 settembre del 1940, il giorno definitivo che fermò l’invasione di Hitler,  un giorno commemorato tuttora come ‘Battle of Britain day’.

Per ulteriori informazioni vedere

(PS. Il Regno Unito aiutò a salvare l’Europa dagli anni oscuri – che non entri se stesso in nuovi anni oscuri con questo famigerato brexit … questa è la mia grande speranza…)

Sembrano croupiers:

 vita d’una nazione

è qui giocata.

Death by the Spanish Flu

For speakers of Italian there are two interesting events taking place at Bagni Di Lucca’s library in the ex-Anglican church.

The first is a conference on 22 November at 4 pm on the hundredth anniversary of Rose Cleveland’s death from the Spanish flu which, it is reputed  killed more people than the Great War itself.  Rose Cleveland caught the disease when she was a nurse looking after Italian refugees fleeing from the military defeat at Caporetto in 1917.

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In Bagni di Lucca’s protestant cemetery are three tombs next to each other. They belong to Rose Elizabeth Cleveland, sister of the US president Stephen Grover Cleveland, Evangeline Whipple author of “A Famous corner of Tuscany” – a largely historical account of Bagni di Lucca and Nelly Erichsen, poet, writer painter and illustrator of Dent’s “Story of…” travel books on Italy.

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All these ladies, bound together by bonds of an affection which durst not name itself openly at the time, would need whole separate posts. Briefly, however, Rose Cleveland, aged 44, started a lesbian relationship with a wealthy widow, Evangeline Simpson, with explicitly erotic correspondence. However things cooled off when Evangeline married an Episcopal bishop from Minnesota, Henry Benjamin Whipple. By 1910, after his death, the two women rekindled their relationship and eventually moved to Bagni di Lucca, Italy to live there together. They shared the house with the English illustrator and artist Nelly Erichsen. Rose died at home on November 22, 1918 at 7:32 in the evening during the 1918 flu pandemic. She was buried there in the English Cemetery, and Evangeline was also buried next to Rose in the same cemetery 12 years later.

Each of the tombs bears a small sculpted flower linking the three together.

You can read more about Rose’s life and lesbian relationship in my post at:

https://longoio2.wordpress.com/2014/10/08/a-rosy-relation

With reference to the Spanish flu I should add that my grandfather on my mother’s side was Italian, gained one of the highest military honours, the Medaglia d’Argento al valor militare, for heroic action on the Carso front, was made prisoner and languished in the Spielberg fortress prison in what is now the Czech republic, (the same one where writer and patriot Silvio Pellico endured ten years captivity), for over two years before being freed and returned to Italy where he caught “la spagnuola” and had to spend time in a sanatorium. Luckily he was saved; else I would not be here to write these lines.

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The other event is on 17 November at 5 pm, again in Bagni Di Lucca’s library and is a talk about religious and lay life in our Val di Lima between the seventeenth and the nineteenth centuries.

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For Our Valley’s Fallen

The 1,240,000 Italian soldiers and civilians (almost 4% of the country’s population at that time) who fell in the greatest human massacre ever perpetrated on the planet were honoured on November 4th throughout the peninsula. Our comune of Bagni di Lucca took a particularly heavy toll in the Great War. In some villages as many as a quarter of young men conscripted in the army were never to return alive…

Poignantly, some of the few to gain from this butchery were the sculptors who created war memorials. If you’ve seen the film ‘La Vie et Rien d’Autre’ (‘Life and nothing but’) by French director Bertrand Tavernier (starring the great Philippe Noiret, telling the story of Major Delaplane, whose job was to find the identities of unknown dead soldiers after the Great War and recounting the terrible psychological scars left behind by all those who survived the dreadful event) will remember the sardonic encounter between the major and a war memorial sculptor. ‘It’s going to be a field day for us’, says the sculptor. ‘A return to the renaissance; in fact a resurrection for us artists.’

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I think this is taking it a little bit too far. The sculptor in the film was clearly embittered by the slaughter of so many –  the ‘lost generation’  for there are many inspired memorials to the fallen. In particular, Edwin Lutyens’ Memorial to the Missing of the Somme at Thiepval, so eloquently described in the book of the same name by my school friend, architectural historian Gavin Stamp who, alas, is also missing to us since December last year, has been described as the greatest piece of English architecture of the twentieth century.

Thiepval Memorial to the Missing Somme France

Thiepval Memorial to the Missing Somme France

An exhibition of photographs by Sergio Garbari of our own valley’s memorials to the fallen is currently on in the foyer of Bagni di Lucca’s town hall.  Many of you will be familiar with Sergio’s astounding photographic skills, especially when he held an exhibition titled ‘‘L’irreversilibiltà del sogno’ at our late-lamented Shelley House bookshop. (See https://longoio2.wordpress.com/2016/08/10/infra-red-at-bagnis-shelley-house/ )

Born in Bagni di Lucca in 1955, Sergio was brought up in an ambience of film and photography thanks to his father who was chief projectionist at Florence’s Ariston cinema. (A sort of ‘Cinema Paradiso’ experience in fact!) In 1976 Sergio became an architecture student at Florence University. Since 1981 he has been official photographer for the world-famous Uffizi art gallery in Florence where he supplies pictures for exhibition catalogues. In addition, Sergio has extensively photographed the Medici villas and such iconic places as the Boboli gardens, the Medici chapel and the San Marco museum. At the same time Sergio has explored more experimental aspects of his art. For example, he exhibited photographs of the ex-prison of Thessaloniki in Greece in 2008.

Sergio (who, incidentally, was also one of the first life-guards at Bagni’s swimming pool) lingers in his photographs on the details of war memorials in such places as Bagni Di Lucca (Villa and Ponte), Fornoli, Benabbio and San Cassiano. The monochrome nature of the images adds to the pathos and tragic nature of the memorials. So much loss for so little! I sometimes wonder if those idiots who started World War two ever thought enough about the vast military graveyards that dot northern France and so many other countries. Here is a small selection of Sergio’s photos:

Of sculptors engaged in the war memorials of our Valle di Lima one name stands out, that of Alberto Cheli.

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Cheli was born in 1888 in Pieve Fosciana. In 1906, he enrolled in a sculpture course, in Lucca and in 1909, became a pupil of Francesco Petroni. In 1911 Cheli participated in an exhibition at Bagni di Lucca’s Casino with his bust of Percy Bysshe Shelley. (I wonder where that bust has disappeared to.). The following year Cheli made a bronze plate for the facade of Betti’s pharmacy in Bagni di Lucca (still visible today). He participated in the First World War as an ambulance driver. In 1923 he obtained the commission for the Monument to the Fallen of Ponte a Serraglio, which he completed in the same year, and for that of Pieve Fosciana (inaugurated in 1932). At the same time he made some bas-reliefs for the War Memorial of Carraia and of Pieve di Monti di Villa. In 1941 Cheli was employed as a technical designer at the Piaggio plant in Pontedera (where they now make the Vespa). He died in Lucca in 1947.

Yes, it’s true that some sculptors could have felt they were having a field day after the pointless wars mankind still inflicts upon itself. However, I do feel that the memorials in our comune do have a particular nobility and expressiveness that continues to help us remember the war dead and reminds us of those touching lines from Lawrence Binyon’ poem ‘For the Fallen’.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

 

Thankyou Sergio for your contribution to the centenary commemoration of Italy’s part in WWI and for preparing us for the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month.

PS You can read more about our war memorials in my posts at:

https://longoio2.wordpress.com/2017/04/12/a-restored-soldier/

I took my own remembrance walk the other day: here are some of my photos:

 

 

 

 

 

Vicenza’s Palladian Splendour

Such iconic London buildings as Greenwich’s Queen’s House or Whitehall’s Banqueting Hall (in front of which King Charles I was beheaded) and Saint Paul’s church at Covent Garden – London’s first true ‘piazza’ – could never have been built had it not been for Inigo Jones’ (1573 – 1652) visit to Italy and, in particular, to Vicenza where he studied the buildings of Andrea Palladio (1508 –1580). Jones truly initiated the architectural style revolution marking the vast difference between such buildings as Hatfield House and Chiswick House.

(From top left clockwise, some buildings by Inigo Jones, Banqueting house, detail of same, Queen’s House, Saint Paul’s)

Palladio exemplified the English eighteenth century architects’ ideal and his ‘Four books on Architecture’ (1570) (of which Inigo Jones annotated a copy, now at Worcester College Oxford) were incredibly influential for the Augustan movement and the development of neo-Palladianism in Britain. Palladio’s villas, especially, became models for the distinctive English country house. In short, without Palladio there would have been no Wren, Campbell, Chambers, Hawksmoor, Adam or even Soane. As Goethe stated when he saw Palladio’s works for the first time on his famous first journey to Italy ‘n 1786

There’s something divine in his designs, nothing less than the strength of a great poet, who from truth and fiction derives a third utterly fascinating reality.

I have always wanted to visit Vicenza. The serendipitous invitation of a visit to this city by a friend I had not seen since university days, and who has since become a distinguished restoration architect, got me jumping on a train for a town which is a UNESCO world heritage site. I had to delay my visit by one day because of the atrocious meteorological conditions Italy has been massacred by, with landslides, floods, inundations and several dead. However, despite this, I did manage to reach Vicenza and the sun was shining there!

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(Friends re-united in Vicenza)

Because of the fine weather we decided on a walking trip to see the city’s exquisite palazzi. One of the first we came across was the palazzo Porto in piazza Castello, clearly unfinished but no less gorgeous because of that. Note the wonderful entasis of the columns, tapering in slightly thinner upper form to give sheer elegance to the mansion’s appearance.

There are also many buildings dating earlier, to the Venetian gothic style, including the fabulous Ca d’Oro (golden house).

My architect friend pointed out that Palladio was as much a low-cost (in materials used) architect as he was a high-class one. Columns which seem of marble are, in fact, brick covered with stucco. Even rusticated blocks are jagged bricks spread over with rendering!

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Palladio has been criticised for this but, after all, he saved his clients a lot of money by not having to transport expensive blocks of marble large distances from mountain quarries, (Vicenza is built on an alluvial plain).

Palladio has also raised problems for restorers of his creations. How much should be restored before the thing becomes overdone? Another problem is that so many of Palladio’s buildings were left unfinished at the time of his death and only completed, largely by his pupil Vincenzo Scamozzi (1548-1616), who may have altered his master’s plans to some degree and who has been saddled with  a sort of Mozart-Salieri type syndrome which fortunately has now been largely discredited.

It was a wonderful time visiting this noble city which has the great advantage of being free of the tiresome cruise-ship rabble which now sadly infests nearby Venice and has even caused one-way pedestrian circuits to be installed there.

Here are some of the Vicentine buildings and streetscapes we saw.

(PS Do note the original Juliet balcony for it was in this very house that Luigi Da Porto wrote the novella which Shakespeare turned in the play ‘Romeo and Juliet’)

For lunch we stopped to eat in the city’s Piazza dei Signori where I feasted on Vicenza’s dish par excellence ‘Bacalà alla Vigentina con Polenta.’ (Stockfish vicentine-style with polenta). Delicious!

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My favourite building was this one: the palazzo Chiericati (1550) which houses a marvellous art collection.

I love the loggias at each end which clearly must have inspired Inigo Jones’ Queen’s house at Greenwich.

I stayed at my friend’s apartment at https://www.bed-and-breakfast.it/it/veneto/bob-and-jennys-bed-and-breakfast-vicenza/6761  . To be  highly reccommended!

The following day was dull and showery so we spent the morning in the very cleverly (perhaps too cleverly) arranged Palladio museum housed in a wonderful palace he designed.

The models of the architect’s principal buildings were brilliantly done and the explanation of Palladio’s theory of proportions (which he derived from studying ancient Roman buildings and, especially, from the treatises of Vitruvius) was clear.

I gasped at the perfection of Palladio’s ‘Teatro Olimpico’, the world’s first purpose-built theatre, with its fantastic stage perspective.

I can now say that I’ve seen the three great renaissance theatres of Italy: the other two are at Sabbioneta (which we visited in 2007)

and at Parma ,(Teatro Farnese) which we saw in 2015.

In the afternoon we climbed the Monte Berico via ‘Le scalette’.

There’s also a three-kilometre gallery by Francesco Muttoni (1780) which will get one there.

At the top is the sanctuary of the Madonna of Monte Berico, originally built to commemorate an apparition of the Virgin who also saved the city from the plague. The sanctuary’s mediaeval nucleus was expanded by Carlo Borella with a Palladio- based centralised classical church built at the end of the seventeenth century.

The best thing about this site, however, are the wonderful views one gets of the city of Vicenza and beyond to the Alps, which already have their peaks covered with snow. It’s a pity the day could not be clearer – a good reason, however, to return.

In the evening we went to the Piazza dei Signori where the city’s symbol the ‘Basilica Palladiana’ is situated. Palladio surrounded the mediaeval hall with a beautiful arcade which he had to fit around the often irregular ancient vaults. Indeed, if one looks closely one can see that the end arches are not quite the same as the rest of the porticoes.

Here we were treated to an imaginative son et lumière which also recounted the disastrous event of 1945 when allied bombing set fire to this wondrous building and almost destroyed it. We also took in some halloween celebrations – Vicenza style.

The very high and very slim bell-tower next to the basilica was fortunately unharmed and somehow adds a slightly oriental touch to the complex of buildings – a classical minaret perhaps.

We had to depart on our separate ways the following morning: I for Longoio and my friends for Bologna and Ravenna.

I cannot wait to return to Vicenza in brighter weather for there are all those beautiful Palladian country villas still to visit. At least I have already seen one of them, the Villa Emo, on a visit to the Treviso Region!