Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/newspaper 17 x 24" 41 x 63cm
Because I used to speak to my father every day, I made a
point of finding and remember little odd bits of experience I would have, to
add to conversation. Some of that would
end up here in Artnotes, but some was too trivial, or too personal, to put into
writing.
Nonetheless, this week was chock-a-block with those sorts of
things. First, we went to a fabulous
lecture by a Princeton professor at Blair’s alma mater, Notre Dame, in
Rome. He spoke, like a living book, about
the “Winged Vision” of the architect/antiquarian Alberti. I love Alberti’s Maltesta Temple in Rimini –
one of my favorite pieces of early Renaissance architecture. Alberti specialized in adaptive reuse of
buildings, and he adored the OLD church, and past celebrations: the soulful, rather than the ornate
pageantry.
When we came out at 7:30, the city of Rome was bathed in
that southern Italian golden light exclusive to the area. Churches and buildings, formerly overlooked,
were spotlighted in the light of precious metal. I hoped for a traffic jam (we drove a rental
car, as the cream puff is in for serious repairs). It was all breathtaking, the light, the
buildings (under the aqueduct adjacent to the Coliseum), the driving itself.
Later in the week, I arranged an escapade to the river,
where I hope to launch my painting boat.
Blair’s idea of renting a painting boat is gaining ground – no responsibility. We pulled the Fiat Panda in along the Tevere
(Tiber) river at Nazzano, near Farfa, about 20 minutes from our house. We were the only people driving along the
dirt road giving way to boat launches and picnic areas. Lush greenery hung out over the river. The boats only give tours on weekends, but it
was great to see.
We stopped at an Agroturismo restaurant, not open on
Tuesday, but saw a couple of juvenile boar, still with their striped coats,
milling about the restaurant. The idea
of Agrotourism is that all the food comes from less than a kilometer away, and
these wild fellows might have been marked.
They were outrageously adorable, and thankfully Harika slept through the
experience.
Blair painted room names on the doors of a local B+B this
week: Deluxe, King, Gold. I drew more pictures of locals in the
streets. Because it is so hot in
Stimigliano, everyone sits outside most of the afternoon and evening. Harika and I sat in a café with Mario, our
neighbor; he practiced his presentation on the the Rolling Stones and music
from the sixties on us. It’s quite a
thing to see, this gathering of humanity, maybe 75 people of all ages clustered
around the piazza, the old folks visiting on shaded benches, the kids playing
in the sun. Cliff swallows screech
overhead, pigeons coo, and like the people on the benches, the crows cluster on
the bastions of our castello, some chattering.
I still talk to my father when I am alone in the car or my
room and I tell him the extra things I don’t mention here. It gives the mosquitoes something to talk
about.
