Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Notizie dal Mio Cuore - 65

Home.  For an expat that is a word that could have many connotations.  I have lived in Florence for just short of three years and I don’t call it home.  But then I lived in L.A. for 15 and I never considered that “home” either.  It could be because I am – at heart – an east coast Jersey girl with New York tendencies and that’s my location, or it could be that I am a vagabond actress/theatre artist and have become so used to moving from theatre to theatre or set to set that the concept of home has developed a required element of relationship to people.  It’s more specific than a city being my home.  It’s the worlds within the city where I find my comforts.

Florence is a city – like LA actually – which is framed by hills and cut by a body of water – the Arno River.  Even though it’s a small city, it encompasses many different worlds.  For a tourist who comes here their average 1.5 giorni (days) of visiting the city will never allow them to truly know her.  And she deserves being known.  Not only because of the obvious – her beauty and history as well as the ridiculous plethora of artistic, intellectual and scientific work that was established within her walls molti anni fa (many years ago) but because of the small worlds created by the people who live here today.

There are two places within this glorious city which, apart from my apartment, I call home.  They are both outside the invisible boundary of the average Florence Adventure most tourists map out for their time here and they are also not well known to locals – Italian or expatriate.  Ironically (or not) they are of course both food-related experiences.  They are not, however, technically restaurants even though they serve food and you do pay for it.  That’s one thing I love about Italy.  There are so many laws here which have been established over the years that you can actually run a business which has all the trappings of a restaurant, but legally is not one.  And maybe this is what makes these two places so special to me.  Well, it’s a part of what makes them special.  More so, it’s the people who own them and the way they welcome me.  It’s the atmosphere they have created and the locations where they are found. 

When I talk to students in our Creative Campus program at Florence International Theatre Company I tell them something which all tourists (and actually many residents) should try.  Stand at the Duomo, choose a direction and just walk for twenty or twenty-five minutes.  Then you’ll see Florence.  If you happen to choose to walk across the Arno River, over the Ponte Carraia (and past my favorite gelateria – Gelateria Carraia) you might find yourself in San Frediano.  You might find yourself walking past Chiesa Carmine and down the quiet neighborhood street of Via Orto.  And if you do, you’ll eventually find a storefront on your right that says “Club Paradiso.”  There are white curtains on the front and you can’t see in.  But don’t let this stop you… open the door and enter and you will have stepped into another world.  Andrea or his wife Manuela will greet you.  You’ll be given a place at one of the wooden tables in this old fondo (basement) with brick ceilings, the original terracotta tiles on the floor, walls covered with police and military plaques as well as pictures of Manuela and Andrea’s granddaughter and, possibly, some local polizia (police) or lavoratori (laborers) sitting at the table next to you.

Club Paradiso is a Circolo Enogastronomico which means it’s a “private club” for friends and associates of the founding members – Andrea and Manuela.  Andrea grew up in this neighborhood and loves it deeply.  When he was a young man he worked side by side with American college students to save the city after the Flood of 1966.  With Club Paradiso, he wanted to create a place where people would come and feel at home.  And that’s what he did.  I bring my Italian friends there who drool over the polpetta (meatballs) saying they are come fatto della mia nonna (like my grandmother made) or my visiting friends from the states say “I can’t believe you live here, I want your life.”  And I smile as I sip my wine because I know they are right.  Club Paradiso is a part of my “home” in Florence.  I practically live there.  Manuela knows I don’t eat meat or wheat and so they make me special plates of risotto and fresh vegetables always taking care that I eat enough.  Dinner there never takes less than two and a half hours and sometimes I’m there for much longer.  I love bringing people there to share this experience.  And Andrea and Manuela love welcoming them.

My other home would take you in an entirely different direction from the steps of the Duomo to a completely different world.  With the river behind you, you would walk toward one of the most unique buildings in the city because of its architecture - Tempio Maggiore, The Great Synagogue of Florence.  And it is great with its turquoise dome and its rich history.  It’s one of the largest buildings in Florence and one of the least visited because it doesn’t fit on the list for the 1.5 day vacation.  However, I am lucky to not be here for 1.5 days and to not have a list.  Often I find myself taking the walk to, not the Synagogue, but Ruth’s Kosher Vegetarian Restaurant which is next door.  Owned by my dear friend and fellow theatre artist, Thomas Simcha Jelenik, who has a personal story that could and should fill a book, Ruth’s is my haven in an entirely different way.  Ruth’s is technically a mensa (cafeteria) which was originally established to offer the small Jewish community of the city a place they could go to eat kosher food outside of their own homes.  When Simcha took over 7 years ago, he changed the menu from meat to dairy and fish (thank goodness for me!) and also focused on the atmosphere.  He wanted to welcome travelers to the city who either needed or wanted a kosher meal and he also gives the students who study in Florence a comfortable place to come to.

Not being Kosher, I don’t need or want a Kosher meal.  For me Ruth’s is something else - it’s a haven when every now and then I need to experience a little of that Jewish sensibility I grew up with in the east coast which I also had a hard time finding in LA.  Although Simcha is from Czechoslovakia, he embodies that for me and his version of Ruth’s reflects it.  The walls are covered with Woody Allen film stills and other celebrations of film and literary geniuses, he has a book shelf filled with things to read, is constantly giving me books he thinks are important and loves sharing the notes and artwork of people in his guest book who have traveled from all parts of the globe to find themselves in his world, eating delicious Mediterranean fare and feeling welcomed to stay for as long as they want, talking art and politics over hummus and blintzes.  Very few locals know Ruth’s – even people who have lived here all their lives.  But those who do become regulars pretty quickly.  When I bring someone for the first time they are thrilled with the food (it’s a nice change from Tuscan fare) and with the atmosphere.  Again my “wheat free meat free” restrictions are taken care of with attention.  And Simcha always brings me that incredible flourless chocolate cake which, although it wasn’t made just for me, always feels that way by the way he serves it.  There is a comfort at Ruth’s which is just like the comfort I feel at Club Paradiso.  I am welcomed, I am wanted, I am known and appreciated.  I am a friend and colleague and those who I choose to bring with me feel the same.

For me, these places and these people are a part of my Italian experience.  For me, this is home.  For me, this is Florence. 

Ciao Ragazzi.  Venite, perche’ no?

Posted by Bari at 17:18:57 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Monday, September 1, 2008

Notizie dal Mio Cuore - 64

Ragazzi:

I was sitting in this very nice café in Greve with my friend Pauline drinking a cappuccino and talking about how truly challenging my life is at this moment when, in receiving her sage counsel and insights I looked for a pen in my purse.  I wanted to write down one or two things she was saying that I was particularly inspired by.  It was at that moment I realized that I had completely forgotten to get finger printed for my permesso di soggiorno (permission to stay in Italia).  I had gotten the dates wrong earlier in August and showed up two weeks too soon.  Then I put the official paper with the official stamp and signature in my purse - - and forgotten all about it.  I was supposed to go at 10am on the 20th.  Today was the 28th.  What was an American straniere (foreigner) to do?  A lifetime ago when I first arrived (really it is short of 3 years, but trust me life times have been lived since then) I would have been in a complete panic.  This is the government we’re talking about.  This is the Questura (police department) and it’s related to my ability to live here legally…… how could I be so irresponsible?  What will happen to me?  What will they do to me?  What will I do????

But, as I said, that was many lifetimes ago.  Now what I said is: “well, I’ll wander over there on Monday and explain that I forgot.  I’ll smile nicely at the man if it’s a guy (and hopefully it will be) and then I’m sure it will all work out.”  Pauline agreed and we went on with our conversation about the difficulties of my life in Florence.  And, this morning,  that’s pretty much what I did.  I walked over to the fingerprinting office and found the man who was responsible, smiled at him and told him I made a mistake and forgot.  He said I would have to go over to the Questura and “rifare il suo appuntomento”(make a new appointment officially at the police station).  I didn’t like that part because the Questura is not a nice place… it’s the place where all the immigrants in Florence have to go to deal with their legality and it’s organized chaos and takes forever to do anything.  So, I figured I was in for a whole day of sitting around waiting for someone to tell me to come back another day.  Ma, chi sa? (but who knows?) I had to go, so off I went…..

When I arrived at the Questura there were hundreds of people from hundreds of places all speaking their languages and holding their precious documents which legitimized them.  All I had was a document which showed I missed the deadline on being fingerprinted which probably isn’t a good thing.  At the door was a policeman giving assistance to people.  I told him I made a mistake with the date and needed a new appointment.  Then I smiled.  He told me to go to sportello 17 (window 17).  That seemed easy enough.  But when I got to sportello 17 there were about 50 people waiting with little numbered tickets to talk to the lady behind the glass.  I didn’t have a numbered ticket.  I wasn’t sure how to negotiate this.  So back I went to the policeman.

He was talking to this nice young girl from Moravia who was, apparently, getting married to an Italian on the 27th of September and was getting mixed information from her consulate and the Italian consulate as to how to process the paperwork.  I don’t think she left feeling any better, but they were having a good laugh about it so at least she wasn’t upset by the answer.  When he looked at me I said – smiling -  “tutti hanno bigletti al sportello 17” (everyone has a ticket at window 17) and he said that’s not a problem I should just pass them all and go right up to the window.  I said okay, but then as I was walking away I turned and said to him… “sa noi Americani non siamo molto bene con tagliare il filo” (You know we Americans are not really comfortable with cutting lines) and he laughed at me, grabbed my paper and walked into the offices to make the appointment for me.  I really didn’t expect that!  But thought… GANZO!!!! (cool!).

He returned in about 10 minutes and asked me what my status was here.  I showed him my permesso which is now, actually, invalid (I have 60 days to renew) and he asked if I was going to renew it.  I said for another year and he said, “well in that case just throw this out” (referring to the official stamped and signed paper I had been carrying around for a year).  I asked him if he was sure.  I said I didn’t want the police to arrest me and throw me in jail.  And he laughed and said “I am the police and we don’t have enough money to pay for the food for all the people who are in jail, do you think we’re going to add you as well?”  Then he told me “Buona Giornata” and I told him to have a nice day as well.  Then I left.

I love Italy!

Ciao ragazzi, I hope your problems are solved as easily as this one,

Bari

Posted by Bari at 15:41:14 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Notizie dal Mio Cuore - 63

Ciao Ragazzi:

There is something I’ve been struggling with now since I’ve lived here.  I often bring it up with friends in Florence and occasionally with one or two back in the Sates.  It has to do with shopping in the market, eating at a restaurant or walking down the street.  There are moments in this city when I don’t like who I seem or who I feel I have to be.  Because there is an entire world in this city that I both empathize with and struggle with.  It’s the world of the gypsies, the Sudanese and Moroccans.  It’s the world of the beggars at the market and the flower sellers who come to you at the restaurant table and the men selling tissues, lighters or funky socks on the streets and in the shops as you’re there for other reasons, and the ones on the streets who sell counterfeit handbags and glasses, watches and belts.  It’s a world that often times seems to be greater than others in Florence – more in-your-face and real than a good cappuccino or a stroll to a meeting across the Arno on a gorgeous cloud-speckled day in a crisp blue sky.  Along with the graffiti and smell of urine and pollution-dust everywhere, these other people round out a more true and real Florence.  A city with edges to the ancient stones that are at times stronger and more impacting than the power of the Medici to reach into the 21st century and mean…. Anything.

I remember my first trip here with my girlfriend.  We were standing by the Duomo and two young men came up to us and asked us a question.  Something stupid like “do you know where the Duomo is?”  I answered it with a smile and my friend tried to pull me away.  Because she knew something I didn’t; which was that those young men were gypsy pick-pockets.  I thought she was being rude.  And even though they didn’t get anything (my purse was well hidden under two layers of clothing) she was right, I was wrong.  And maybe she was more aware because two days earlier she caught a young gypsy girl with her hand in her bag on the 17 bus up to Fiesole.

And now, years later, I watch myself shut down every single day.  I’m having a coffee with my friend at a bar and one Senegalese man comes by to sell t-shirts, ten minutes later another to sell lighters or tissues and twenty minutes later a third to sell socks.  In between the last two a gypsy woman begged for money with a picture of a baby.  “No, grazie” is not enough for them.  They look for holes in your humanity.  They look for a vulnerability to other human beings.  And then they push you and push you standing there between the cracks of your consciousness refusing to leave until you have to become rude. And sometimes not even then.  Until I have to feel like – every day – I have a little fight with someone in order to live my daily life among their daily life.

And I spent a lot of time feeling horrible about this.  I am, after-all, a feeling person.  I even have a hard time killing zanzari (mosquitos) so how can I be rude to human beings this way?  I recognize, even in my struggle to survive at this point in my life, that my struggle is a privileged one.

It’s something I deal with all the time.  I have friends who have befriended some of the people in these groups – a Senegalese man who sells or asks them for money for coffee.  They are as nice as can be when you say yes.  But when my friend Andrea couldn’t help a guy out that he had known for a year because he, himself, was struggling, suddenly the ‘friendship’ became soured and hostile.  I have been purposely banged into by a guy with one of the white sheets full of counterfeit bags because I didn’t give him money.  And, although it hurt, what hurt me more was the further evidence it gave to me to close up just that much tighter to all of them.

I worry about them.  I worry about the world they live in.  But there is nothing I can do to help them.  And if, in my American way, I want to smile and kindly say “no, grazie” – it only works as a door to being harangued endlessly, I wonder how I can find a way to feel anything other than disdain.

And I see much more clearly here, in Florence, that the distance we all have from “them” and “us” is about as far away as a coin passing from one hand to another, followed by a smile that fades with the pursuit of the next possibility for sustenance.

Ciao Ragazzi,

Bari

Posted by Bari at 12:36:27 | Permalink | No Comments »

Monday, August 18, 2008

Notizie dal Mio Cuore - 62

“Ti Voglio Bene” are three words every American woman (or any type of woman) is supposedly waiting to hear.  Basically they are the words you hear before the words - “I love you.”  Basically they mean “you are the one.”  As anyone who knows me would tell you, I didn’t come to Italy to hear “ti voglio bene.”  Although, if it came (or comes) along as being a part of my reason for being in Florence, I guess I wouldn’t say “no grazie” if the person was right and the stars were aligned.

But to hear these words from someone I was sure I had stepped away from, someone I was falling in love with back – when was it? – I think May of 2007 – and after I’ve said to him when he called me recently “si possiamo avere un cena insieme ma come amici.  Non posso essere un amante con te come prima.” (yes we can have a dinner together but as friends, I can’t be lovers with you like before).  Because – if you recall – “before” was not so easy.  “Before” was dating – we called him Alessandro – in a way that served his life and made me feel like a mistress to a non-married man.  

There is something about me and men who want me desperately but can’t seem to actually allow themselves to be with me.  And still this is Alessandro.  One year later, calling me for friendly drinks, kissing me on the lips to greet me instead of both cheeks, wrapping his arm around my waste as we walk through Piazza Beccheria, touching my face with “che bella sei” (how beautiful you are) while I’m trying to get him to clearly understand in my now one-year-older Italian that “non posso” be lovers.  And I can’t.

So why do I have a drink with him?  Or dinner?  Or anything for that matter?  I remember once, back in Los Angeles in my former life, I was taking a class on self-defense and the teacher said something so striking I’ve never forgotten it.  She said that women are so innately nurturing that the larger percentage of victims restrain themselves from fighting back because of a deep-seated fear of hurting their attackers.

I don’t want to hurt him.  And yet I am wondering how much I am hurting myself.  We stopped at Piazzale Michelangelo after dinner and walked toward the edge which looked over the city.  The moon was full which was making the stones of Florence glow an orange and gold between the shadows of the grays and tans.  He looked at me and took my face in his hands and kissed me far too intimately to be friends and basically told me he loved me.  That some day things would not always be like this – the “this” for those of you who may not know is his strict commitment to his 9 year old daughter’s fantasy that even though he no longer lives with her mother (they were never married) there is no other woman in his life (it’s the whole “La Mamma” thing).  So I think Alessandro, 500 feet from the bronze copy of The David and framed by the moon kissing the trees above the Boboli Gardens also basically asked me to marry him…. somewhere …. in …. the … future.

I can only pray that if and when that time comes my answer will be “no, grazie.”

Ciao Ragazzi,
A voi vi mando tanti baci!

Bari

Posted by Bari at 00:19:20 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Notizie dal Mio Cuore - 61

Ragazzi!

Just when I thought this was a time in my life where I was simply a Florence-International-Theatre-Company-creating-machine without much “feminine” aspect to me… I have been reminded, in a way that I’ve only experienced since moving to Italy (although once with a restaurateur in the states but he was also of Italian origin), that I am woman.

Yes, I am woman…. Slam me against a wall (or try to) with the excuse you want to “baciarmi” (kiss me).  This has happened to me a few times in my less-than-three-years in Firenze.  Some of you will recall the “panino-man” (sandwhich man) who insisted I made him feel “not married” or the gentleman from Egypt who kept trying to stick his tongue down my throat while walking me home (I continued “da solo” – by myself – after three or four attempts and to keep him from knowing where I live).  But those I actually saw coming.  What I didn’t see coming happened two days ago and it’s left me feeling a little… uncomfortable.

I’m not going to use names or political assignments, but it’s funny what the lazy days of August does to a person.  A person – in this case male – who is high enough up in the city government to be fairly significant; a person who I’ve had many meetings with and actually have been (until two days ago) somewhat intimidated by because of his position and relationship to my mastery of Italian (which, believe me, gets better all the time).  In Firenze August is a strange time.  The stones become very hot, the Italians try to leave (although the economy has kept more here than would like to be) and the tourists still fill the streets and walk around sweating and fanning themselves.  It’s a good time to buy gelato and do very little else (but of course I am following my horoscope which said all of my friends would be relaxing this month “but you dear Pisces will be working harder than ever”…. Ain’t it the truth!)  Anyway… here’s what happened:

I had to start the process of finding space, yet again, for our rehearsals during the new season.  So I went to the government office to speak to a man there who has always been very helpful with getting us the spaces we need for rehearsing.  It was then that I found out he had been relocated to another part of the city’s government and we no longer had a “friend” who – apparently – had actually been a little ‘generous’ to us in assigning space (which I didn’t reveal to the lady who was now working with me, I simply told her my ex-colleague used to do this and so, naturally, I wouldn’t know the correct process).  Now there were forms to fill out, money to pay, and – in the end – we probably wouldn’t get the space because we wanted it for rehearsals which I have found out are not good enough reasons this year.  Last year it was fine!  So I left a bit concerned about what the heck we’re going to do for rehearsal space.  I told my friend, Andrea, about this conundrum and he immediately got on the phone and called…. This person…. And then told me to go to the office and speak to him the next day because he can say yes or no to the issue.  I told him I didn’t want to go because I felt a bit intimated by him when I spoke Italian (Andrea and I only speak in Italian) and have never had a meeting with him “da solo” and he told me to not be so crazy “Lui e’ grande” (he’s great) and I should get over myself and go.

So I did.

And he was “grande” and relaxed and we had a great casual talk about FITC and Florence and then he asked me what I was doing for lunch, I said nothing, and he said, let’s go get something to eat.  First he had to check on his friend’s apartment because he was taking care of the cats.  So we went to the apartment, he checked on the cats, and then he came at me in a way that shocked me so much I started laughing.

There’s a bit of an arrogance to a man coming at a woman like that…. Out of the blue with no invitation, no steps toward it…. Simply an assumption that you – like he – “wants it.”

It’s actually more than a bit of arrogance.  It scared me.  I mean, everything turned out fine, no one was hurt, no one got kissed, and we had lunch and now I’m not intimidated to call on him when I need something since he’s shown a side of him I never expected to see…. But it left me with this discomfort I am sorry I have.  Tonight I went to have dinner with Andrea – my friend who is married and owns a restaurant but his wife is in Austria with the grandchild to get out of the heat of Firenze – and I felt uncomfortable for the first time with him.  It was all in my head of course, but the thought was there.

Anyway, that’s all ragazzi,

Just wanted to share it.

Bari

Posted by Bari at 23:10:14 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Monday, August 4, 2008

Notizie Dal Mio Cuore - 60

Un pensiero (a thought) per i miei ragazzi:

Al Gore recently threw down a challenge to the American people to become less reliant on oil within the next ten years.  I think, if you haven’t seen the video, you should take a look at it here (Gore’s Challenge) .  In Italy the response of my friends is generally “the Americans can’t do it.  They like their big cars and their huge consumption.  They aren’t capable of this sort of change.”  I thought about that long and hard.  And I want to share something with you (just incase it’s true!).  When I go back to the US I do see things that I no longer do.  I see a great deal of waste and reliance on certain things that I’ve learned are really not absolutely necessary.

However … Let’s be honest.  I’m sitting here in my apartment in via Ghibellina.  It’s over 100 degrees in Florence WITH humidity and I don’t have air conditioning.  That doesn’t sound like a great situation to most people.  But I’ve learned to live with it.  I’ve learned from the Italians how to keep the windows closed all day to keep the heat out and open them at night to let the cool air in.  I don’t suffer.  In fact, what makes me suffer more is going from very hot weather into overly air conditioned buildings.  Why?  Because I’ve adjusted.  And I understand why everyone here simply stops working in August and tries to flee the city.  They go where it’s cool – the beach, the mountains, Austria.  I can’t, as we all know, because I’m not in a position to right now.  But being here in August isn’t horrible either…. It’s quieter and you feel the heat of the buildings, the stones… you feel nature, which is often a nice reminder.  I’m not saying I like to sweat for days on end, but I also can’t afford the electricity it takes to air condition my home.  So I make my choices.

Like water.  That’s also pretty costly here.  I’ve learned from my early days with that tiny water tank some of you may recall, that I actually could turn the water off while I’m doing certain things like shampooing, shaving, etc.  Your perspective changes when you actually SEE the water tank in your apartment and understand that your use is directly tied to that little meter which is pretty much directly tied to your bank account.

Here are other ways my life has changed:  I walk everywhere, I don’t drive a car, if I wasn’t afraid of being killed by crazy motorinos and buses or running down tourists I would use a bicycle like all of my friends.  When I have to go further I take public transport.  I turn off the lights if I’m leaving a room and only use one light when I’m in a room.  (that electric meter is also tied to my bank account).  I don’t have a dryer and if and when I ever move back to the states I won’t get one… because I LOVE hanging my clothes to dry. (Although apparently the city just created another law for the “clean up” of Florence which includes not hanging your clothes out the window in the front of the buildings.  Which, to me, is idiotic, this is a tourist town and people COME to Italy to see laundry hanging from the windows because back in the states they all have DRIERS!!  But, even worse than that is the new law of a fine against graffiti.  Because guess who pays the fine?  The people who own the darn buildings!  Anyway… this is all for another day ….)

That’s all.  I just wanted to say it so it’s out there.  Unlike my friends here I believe in the American people.  I’m proud to be one of them – which these days is not easy to say abroad, but it’s true.  We have many wonderful qualities, not the least of which is determining to do something and getting it done.   So…. From whatever I’ve learned that I can share with you…. I do think we can improve the situation over there…. One little daily adjustment at a time.

Basta! ……………Per adesso.

Bari

Posted by Bari at 21:56:47 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Notizie Dal Mio Cuore - 59

Ragazzi,

How are things in Florence you might ask?  Well….. things are good….. unbelievably good in the I’m-on-the-absolute-edge-of-the-edge-of-my-life-and-I-can-feel-it-cutting-into-the-soles-of-my-feet….sort of thing.  I thought I was here a year ago.  When the heat of summer and the desperation of Florence hung over me.  When FITC finished its first season with a negative balance in the bank, hopes for a future were dimming and the building of the soon-to-explode problems between the co-Artistic Directors were being unknowingly planted in the hot terrain of the Mediterranean sun on cobblestone and asphalt streets.  THEN I thought that I was on the knife’s edge.  I thought it couldn’t get more frightening financially.  I thought I would never “figure it out” or come to fully realize whatever the “It” was that brought me to Florence.  Yet…..I made it through another year and a successful full season at FITC.  Summer is here, there’s a positive balance in the FITC account, I’m now Producing Artistic Director with a strong core of people behind me and a fabulous season planned ahead of me.  And… again… there’s that “yet.”

Yet is it possible to be even more on the knife’s edge?  I never knew there could be an edge to the edge….. but I’m on it.  While FITC has a little money in the bank, a stronger structure, a full season planned and….. we are about to announce what I am hoping might become one of the most exciting study abroad opportunities for theatre majors in the world as well as some really cool stuff for the tourist market….. I have no employment whatsoever.  The job I had which hardly paid all the bills – teaching creative writing/acting at a local study abroad program – is gone for the fall, might come back in the spring, but that has put ‘yours truly’ in a very interesting position.  Just as certain concepts are edging toward reality…. Meaning financial as well as actual….. Ms. “I want to move to Florence and find out who I am in this world” may not be able to stay long enough to actually see them realized.

Or…. She will.  Who’s to say?  Only time will tell.

Cial Ragazzi!  I have to get back to work….. It’s the end of July and August is almost here… which means I won’t be able to get much done until September 8th….

Ah Italia!

Bari

Posted by Bari at 16:18:27 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Notizie Dal Mio Cuore - 58

Ciao Ragazzi!

I thought – just for fun – I would share a bit of a letter I recently wrote to Christopher Durang’s literary agent in New York.

Dear Mr. Durang’s Agent:

I’m the Artistic Director of a theatre that is entering its 3rd season in Florence, Italy.  Our intention is to establish the first international English regional theatre in the city with a very strong community service mission.  Until this moment we have unknowingly chosen plays that were not registered with the SIAE- which takes money from productions for music and writers.  I say ‘takes’ because I believe their fee of 10% of box office to be robbery and was unaware of this policy until I chose to do Mr. Durang’s “Baby With The Bathwater.’  Living in Italy has its constant challenges…. and I now understand why so many Italian theatres choose to do new works or classics but not contemporary authors.  I’ve also learned - from my Italian colleagues - that there is always a way around laws and regulations (which has been a great discomfort to my American mind).  I’m hoping to find one in this circumstance.

I truly want to produce Mr. Durang’s plays in Florence as I think both our mother tongue English and Italian speaking (we use italian subtitles in our sets) audiences would love his work.  But at this stage (or any stage) of our company, giving 10% to an organization which exists solely to take the money from performing artists without the majority being seen by the authors/composers is not something we can afford to engage in.  I also am opposed to it morally.  Theatre can function as a strong and viable business, but not under circumstances such as this…. which is also why there is so little professional theatre in this country.

My apologies for going on…. is there anything at all that can be done about this?  Or am I in a position where I have to choose another playwright?  If there is some loophole where Mr. Durang can grant a production free of license (and we find another way to compensate him), or we make him producer on the production (in name of course) which might free the production from having to pay the rights to its producing partner (and we find another way to compensate him) …. I am probably grabbing at straws, but……

This is making theatre in Italy…….

Thank you for your time,

Bari

Needless to say…. He declined and suggested I deal with the SIAE.  Such an American answer!  Since I sent this letter, I found out the SIAE a privately owned organization (the word mafia would work at this moment) sanctioned by the government and – if I wanted to use recorded music registered with them – I would have to pay an additional 33% of my box office.  Which would be a total of 43% of the gross of our production.  (This is why, when I did “The Butterfingers Angel….” And wanted Christmas music in the lobby we couldn’t do it and I made the cast stand in the lobby and sing live instead.  I just didn’t know it was for 33%!  I honestly thought it was 3% which I also thought was insane for lobby music!)

Walking the streets of Florence to try to keep all this going…. When you simply keep hitting walls as to why you can’t…. can often be slightly frustrating.  But ragazzi, you know what I’m going to do about it?

Succeed anyway!

Why not?  Apparently, according to my friend who runs the theatre we work in…. we just do “Baby With the Bathwater” and any other registered play with the SIAE we want and then when they ask us for the ticket sales total we tell them the truth – tickets were valued at 3euro each.  Because you see on that production we really were holding a raffle!  It took place during intermission and the play was simply a nice thing around it.  The raffle ticket is 11euros and the ticket is 3.

So my friends…..

We continue!

Tanti baci, e buon lavoro!

Bari

Posted by Bari at 15:24:23 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Friday, July 11, 2008

Notizie Dal Mio Cuore - 57

Ragazzi!

From one moment to the next Florence is full of surprises…. None of them at all surprising… but they exist all the same.  Let me explain:

One week and two days ago, my heart sinking, and my hopes dashing and crashing around me in beautifully Tuscan-lit slow motion…. I left the Direzione Sviluppo Economico with Trui…… not sure if we would be able to attempt to do a very viable, probably successful project that would bring money to FITC, bring an addition to the offerings here for international visitors and give visibility to our work in the tourist market.  For reasons which sadden me immensely – basically the lessons learned here of not telling anyone anything until it is too late for them to do anything to stop you from having your own small success (because even then they will do whatever they can to take it from you) – I will not tell you as of yet what it is.  When we are ready you will know.  Sorry…. I am becoming a bit “Florentine” …. For survival.

Anyway…. One week and two days after our meeting with the very nice Dott. Lotti I returned with Rene (our Academic Advisor for the Theatre Arts Immersion Course and Vice President of our Association).  Dott. Lotti had – surprisingly but also not – done exactly what he said he would do…. He looked into the challenges of our project proposals.  He had two other colleagues in the meeting and we took another hour to sit there, go over everything in as much detail as we could and determine all the challenges the Florentine laws and regulations proposed to what we wanted to do.  Then we talked about how to get around them.

You see… THAT’s Italy.  You want to know what it’s really like here?  How to really be in Italy and experience her intimately?  You can drink all the Chianti you want, drive through the hills of olive groves and along the cost of the Amalfi.  But until you sit in a government office with three knowledgeable men who look at your project from every which way – have decided they want to support it – but see the only way to support it is to figure out how to get around the law… and there is always a way to do that…. You’ve not really had an Italian experience.

One could argue “what a waste of time”…. And one would be right.  There is so much energy, time and talent wasted in trying to constantly figure out how to get around things here.  That’s why nothing gets done.  That’s why people give up.  That’s why Italians are among the most pessimistic people I have ever met in my life.  However… the part that was surprising…. Was that we sat there and did it.  We found possible solutions and when we left… the door closed behind us and we were half way down the stairs… I said to Rene, to make sure I didn’t miss anything with my limited Italian:  “They didn’t say no did they?  I mean that was a “yes” wasn’t it?”

And Rene said: “They didn’t say no.”

So this is now my job: put together a very specific detailed-as-possible description of the project – times, locations, people, everything…. So they can take it around and get it approved and we can move forward.

And… maybe…. We will…..

Or maybe another surprise will come around the corner.

Who knows?  Piano, Piano as the Italians like to say. (Slowly, slowly)

Now, with no doubt in my bones, I know exactly why.

Ciao Ragazzi!

Posted by Bari at 17:50:14 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Notizie Dal Mio Cuore - 56

I have my own fire under me…. sometimes for good and sometimes for bad….. but it’s there.  Florence, I found out recently, was originally built by Julius Caesar in 59 BC as a settlement for his veteran soldiers.  It was structured like an army camp in the way the streets were designed.  Maybe that’s why it feels so much like you have to fight for everything here.

“Nel ogni finestra ci sono pistoli.”

These were the words of my newest government official – Dott. Lotti of the Direzione Sviluppo Economico (office of Economic Development).  He specializes in strategizing for developing new projects, etc. for the city – under the relationship with tourism.  I had these ideas for developing some projects to bring money into FITC (and – honestly – to me as well) and since they were really quite simple I was – even with all my Florentine education – surprised at how long it took to get to a point where things were being discussed logistically instead of theoretically.  After running around the city for about three months (see description of tunnel building in April) we ended up with this sincerely nice man in a meeting which was suppose to be with his boss, but somehow someone forget to schedule the appointment into her book.  However Italy constantly teaches you that what you think you need you often don’t…. meaning meetings with people who might have passed you on to someone else instead of a meeting with this nice gentleman who gave an hour of his attention to us – to yet again explain the story of FITC, our intentions, our projects, and our relationships with the city – and for him to say two things which dropped my heart… which until that point I had been holding up with very rickety scaffolding…

First he said – “if we work with you, do these projects with you, then every other theatre association will want us to work with them as well.”

This is a perfect example of the one of the problems of Italy – or at least Florence.  This fear of others.  And - maybe - socialism/communism.  Everyone denies progress, denies advancement, discourages entrepreneurialism all in the name of “what the others will do/think/want.” Or what is “fair to the whole.”  Our reaction (Trui was with me) was that: #1 there is no other English language professional level theatre organization in Florence and #2… let them!  There are 5 million tourists and 15,000 American university students that come to this city every year.  Let other groups offer things.  Maybe the city would become more livable and enjoyable and less dangerous in the evenings.  Maybe art could – as I absolutely believe with all my bones – change things for the good here.  FITC certainly can’t and shouldn’t do it all!  But that’s not easy for an Italian to understand.  And that’s when he went on to identify another obstacle:

You want to do a package evening – theatre and a restaurant.  That might be difficult.

Difficult?  What is easier than being entertained and eating???  God knows if they’ve done anything in Florence it’s perfect the dining experience.  But here’s the rub – it’s two different categories these fall into you see – Culture and Commercial dining.  So we can’t combine them because there is no category for both.  Would you believe that in one of the most tourist-ridden places on the face of the planet they don’t have package deals?!

This – it was explained by the nice Dott. Lotti – is because of all the jealousies of the residents.  The Florentines are all watching each other to make sure that no one is doing better than they are.  This is why there are laws upon laws which restrict every little thing and which can be called upon at any time to “get” someone.  He made a movement with his hands crossing his wrists to show how chained the government workers felt by this (the irony is that the residents tell me it’s the government workers that are chaining them…. But I think Dott. Lotti – based on my experience – is not far off).  Then he moved his hands to being held up with one finger on each hand pointing at an angle downward and both thumbs facing up and said:

“Qui, a Firenze, nel ogni finestra ci sono pistoli.”

To translate that means “here in Florence, in every window there are guns”…. pointing at their neighbors, waiting for them to do something that they don’t want them to do…. Or that they resent them having.

And then his cell phone rang.  I turned to Trui and I said “this may be it. We are sitting in a meeting at the office of economic development to see how to do a simple project of benefit to the city and this very nice man is telling us there are guns waiting for us.  This is beyond my ability to push or pull or force or do anything.  I can’t change genetic fears and cultural stupidity.”

And Trui said:

“You are right.”

Then Dott. Lotti hung up, came back to us and said he wanted to see what he could find out and we should meet a week later.  I felt he meant it.  I felt he sincerely wanted to see what he could do.  If he could do something.

Then we left and I walked Trui – who I had been running around this city with for three months looking for answers to simple questions – to the corner to say good bye for the summer.   I stood there with the rickety scaffolding threatening to tumble and I wondered if I would be here in September when Trui returned from her summer vacation.  I wondered if Florence would let me find a way to stay.

Vediamo Ragazzi…. Vedremmo……

Posted by Bari at 17:27:23 | Permalink | Comments (1) »