An evening at L’Hermita

I had fun last night though, at the little conversation group at L’Hermita.

I talked to a youngish woman from an aldea, I think is the word, a tiny town it means.  In Galicia.  She taught me the word for bagpipe.  I wrote it down.  They play them in Galicia-  which comes from Gaul, you prolly know.  They were/are Gauls/Celts.  She was really sweet, a pleasure to talk to.  Then I moved on to an even younger woman.  By they way they were assigned to me, I had no choice.  This one is Morrocan and just moved here from France.  Really sweet.  Must be in her early 20’s.

It felt like I was talking to an angel, her voice was so child like.  English not bad, Spanish not bad, we spoke a little in French too.  The French coming out of my mouth was a bit sprinkled with Spanish, not so much the words as the pronunciation.  “Un po'” instead of un peut-  that sort of thing.  Her mission is to acquire languages apparently.  Her’s is a Berber family.  She learned a little of that at home on the Atlantic coast of Morocco.  I had my large water color pad with me to finish a drawing of L’Hermita and I realized I put a column in the wrong place.  I showed her my drawing.  She liked it.

The woman who leads this group has bright red hair.  She looks very Celtic. more than I do.  I sat next to an Italian guy and we talked about the new Papa- which means potato in Central America.  I joked that they chose an Argentinian since there are no Catholics in Italy anymore.  He laughed.  We spoke a little in Italian too.  He was deep in conversation with a few others so we did not talk much.

Fallas has begun!

Fallas has unofficially started in Valencia. This huge festival doubles the city’s population for about three weeks.

Here is a video the first Mascleta oif Fallas this year. The Mascleta is an enormous fireworks display. It is more about feeling it that seeing or hearing it. The deep vibrations shake you to the bone! This happens every day at 2pm for three weeks.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2leje_1Y3I

Satruday night March 9 they brought in the expo of one of the larger fallas, Na Jourdana, which is our neighborhood fallas (these are responsible for organizing and funding their ‘fallas’ which consists of truly marvelous sculptures).  They erected a 25 meter tall Trojan horse.  I am not sure what the exhibit is about but will keep you posted.

The streets are full of people and vendors selling churros and bunuelos (deep fried also but made of pumpkin or squash of some sort).

Here is a link to some photos:  https://plus.google.com/photos/111993279450383941292/albums/5853756659073295025

Enjoy!

 

 

 

January art- off to a great start!

Hola!

This is probably my best month art wise.  I think the pieces I did this month are on the whole my best to date.  I have sold some of my work and arranged for another exhibition.  A friend of mine who is a collector said some of my pieces could do quite well in the galleries there.  And a very dear friend of mine, also a very good artist and who has taught me a lot, requested one of my pieces!  I am very proud!

https://plus.google.com/photos/101879261292066437674/albums/5840638003466799393

That’s the link to my picasa site.

 

gary

Rome December 12- 2 of 2

We went on our merry way to Santa Maria in Trastevere.  It is a magnificent church from tiled/mosaic floor to gilded ceiling.  And it’s quite old- it was finished in 1143.  Mary hangs out outdoors on the pediment in golden mosaics and Byzantine style. The floor tiles were donated by one of the wealthy families; it was something they all did.

Down the way we resolved our lunch squabble by deciding on a restaurant.  In a mighty display of acting skill I convinced Peg I would be quite happy about it and as it turns out I even convinced myself, that’s how well I performed.  Peg ordered a mighty fine pizza for us to share.  It came with bresciola, shaved parmigiano, and rucheta.  It was fabulous!  The wood oven does a mighty find job with a pizza crust.  It is hotter than any home oven can get, up to 800F.  The crust cooks very quickly and tends to puff up in spots, raising it off the floor of the oven, giving an uneven crustiness that actually is a major benefit. We had a half bottle of wine, a white from the Colli Albani, the hills just south of Rome.  It went very well with the cicorria and brocoletti we ordered as contorni (side dishes served with the second plate normally- the second being the meat or fish).  The former was quite spicy.  You rarely find cicorria outside Italy, although I have grown it in the US.  Brocoletti is very similar if not the same as what we call rapini in the US.  In Italian it means ‘little broccoli’ although it is not a broccoli at all, but a Mediterranean herb.

We spent the rest of the afternoon at St. Peters.  If you ignore the immense egos of the Popes and the horrors of Christianity at various periods, you can enjoy this immensely beautiful building. Mary’s face in Michaelangelo’s Pieta is way too young for a mother of a 33 year old, but I guess that really does not matter.  The building’s proportions, the superb building materials and the high quality of the sculptures and other art work are all stunning.  It is amazing what immense wealth can do- as well as a large supply of marble from the Coliseum and other Roman era buildings ravaged to decorate this structure.  And never mind that all that marble was quarried with slave labor.  Well, at least, put these thoughts aside for a moment to appreciate the great skill you see manifest before you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rome December 12 2011 (1 of 2) Misadventures on the way to Holy Mary

It seems I can not remember to both zipper up and do anything else all in the same day.  Today I remembered to zipper up so something had to give.  We were already on the tram heading for Santa Maria in Trastevere when I learned what it was.  My weekly transport pass.  It was not in my back pocket where I put it yesterday.  Of course the time to check this sort of thing is after you leave the house and get on the thing you need the pass for.

I hopped off the tram as Peg said something about Santa Maria, hopped onto the next one going back to the flat to see if perchance I’d left it there.  It took me a few minutes to notice the large group of ticket checkers standing just a few feet away.  Fortunately they were chatting with one another so I hopped off and got on the next one.   All this was for naught as I did not find the pass in the flat.

In the meantime Peg continued on to Termini station to find a bus map.  The ones that purported to be bus maps at the newspaper stands do not have any bus routes on them.  We were then going to continue on towards the Etruscan museum at Villa Giulia.   I waited for her where I got off.  It was over an hour when she showed up, walking from the opposite direction.  She had said that we were to meet at Santa Maria in Trastevere.  I’d checked there once while waiting but she was not there.  At least we only lost 15 minutes which after over an hour in the cold but sunny weather was not too bad.  But by this time it was the lunch hour so it was time for us to fight about where we are to eat.   Peg has decided that if I don’t chose I’ll get mad if it doesn’t work out.  This, of course, made me mad.

Tomorrow I leave with the zipper down.

 

Rome

We arrived in Rome Tuesday afternoon after a short flight from Valencia.  After meeting our landlord for the week- we rented a small flat in Trastevere near the train station- we had a bit of a rest,  and went to find a friend  at the school on top of the hill.  A colleague got her on the phone for us.  We’ll meet up some time this week.  I’ll tell you about her in a later post.

After some light shopping at a fancy joint – we’d been there before – we had a nice light dinner at a tavola calda called Pizza Boom.  Turns out our landlord recommended it but we picked it out on our own.  It is just a small place with pizza by the slice, veggies by the weight, and 3.50 for a decent bottle of red. Dinner for two including a nice hunk of mozzarella di bufala for 15 euros.

Tuesday morning, after a cup of the most fabulous cappuccino (how do the Italians do it time after time?) in a little place nearby we went to the Tor Argentina. These ruins are in the middle of busy area. Cat’s live there and are fed and cared for (a sign reads ‘do not feed’). This is where Caesar was assassinated. Like most ruins, they are quite below current street level. This is one of my favorite spots but here I have many.

Then we walked to  Bocca de la Verita http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bocca_della_Verit%C3%A0.  No way would a guy like me go anywhere near that Bocca thing. This is Peg’s favorite church. It dates from the 8th century. I recall reading that the RCC distributed food from here (grain and oil were given away by the state in Roman times, if I recall correctly), continuing the practice in the absence of government.  The crypt is now open. You pay just a euro to go in.  Just some columns and a little table with a Byzantine Mary image on it.

Across the street is my favorite Roman temple, that of the Vestal Virgins (not that I am partial to virgins.)    I’ll try to do a pen and ink of it.  It is in fine shape. Across the way is a 4 arched gate. It is being excavated so you can not get near it right now. Too bad. It was a very important entrance to il Foro (the Forum) which is just a short distance away.

We went into the center of the old town for lunch. There are jillions of places but since we were eating at friend’s house, we ended up in a pizza al taglio (by weight) place since you can eat a light meal for relatively little money.  They also have other choices. There was a veal plate for example. I got a plate of veggies. The Italians love veggies and feature them like no one else I know of. I had a plate of breaded eggplant/aubergine and several other veggies. The Italians love olive oil almost as much as the Spanish so there was plenty! I think a bit much for me as afterwards I had to buy a coke to settle my stomach.

In this place and others, if you want say some veggies and some pizza, you have to go to two separate counters. The pizza counter here is run by a woman who reminds me of the nurse character played by Cloris Leachman (opposite Harvey Korman) in Mel Brook’s High Anxiety, a film he did in the 70’s.  She had the world’s pointiest boobs with which to menace her opponents. The woman who serves the pizza here thinks all customers are opponents. Anyway she intimidated me into buy a huge piece of pizza with just fresh tomatoes and a few mozzarella balls on it. It was fabulous.

After we went on our merry way we got on the shopping bus they run during the holidays. You get a nice tour of the old town while pretending to window shop. Actually I check out the Roman women, whom I still find to be stunningly shapely despite the winter apparel, which I think should count as a handicap.  The young Parisian wearing short shorts with leggings in winter still give me whip lash as well.

The bus brought us to Piazza del Popolo. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piazza_del_Popolo.  One of my favorite buildings is here. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Maria_del_Popolo. Inside is the famous Caravaggio of Paul being hung upside down on a cross. There are some fabulous chiaroscuro- balustrades that have so much dimension you have to touch them to know for certain they are painted.

After a bit of a rest up we went for diner at friends M and P’s place near the Barberini palace.  We met M in 1999 and had maintained contact (this is my department as Peg does not do contact very much) and met up in ’04 and ’05 (when we were here for shorter periods), so it was a real pleasure to see them again.  Their children have grown up.  The son is now 17 and the daughter 16, and a very impressive pair they are.  The son expects to study in the UK and the daughter in the US after they graduate.  Both speak English and Italian with equal ease.

We had great conversation and food for the next several hours, starting with some thinly sliced ham and some mozzarella with some very lovely Italian red.  Then it was the primi piato, pasta with a red sauce and pancetta.  Then she served some involtini – which means stuffed.  In this case it was some sausage with thyme wrapped by a slice of chicken breast.  Lovely.

In the meantime friend J entertained us with his theft story.  He left his wallet on the seat of his car in Iceland.  The crooks immediately went to a cash machine but did not have the password so J got a message on his phone regarding the attempt, telling him the location.  He found a policeman, they went to the bank, got the video of the incident (they knew the time from the phone message) and the cops recognized the crooks.  They even knew where they lived, went there and retrieved the wallet completely intact- having threatened the crooks with jail time if there was even a penny missing. Unfortunately J told this story several times.  I think he had a bit too much to drink.

It was otherwise going well before we ran out in a panic thinking the buses stopped at 1030 (Peg got this one wrong, the fault of a website).  But it was late enough for me anyway, though I hated to end the evening so abruptly.  Out we walked into the cold winter night.

 

whatsapp button