Murder at the Four Deuces

Thursday night we threw a 1920's themed Murder Mystery Party, or "Cena con Delitto" at the villa, which was transformed into the opening night of the Four Deuces speakeasy, with many important gangsters, politicians, and lovely ladies in attendance.  The students were such good sports, with each person taking their role in the event very seriously, right down to their flapper hairstyles, rolled cigars, and Italo-American gangster accents.  I'd always wanted a Great Gatsby party at the villa, but this was probably even more eventful than one of those ever could be!

One of my students, David, came up with the idea to do the murder mystery party and was my co-host for the evening.  Of course, this means I took care of logistics and he took care of pizazz, and on the whole I'd say our partnership was the bee's knees.

Everyone was mingling and enjoying their hooch as several shocking confrontations went down between Big Jim Ravioli, the leader of the family if you know what I mean, and various guests.  He soon got bumped off and it was our job as well as that of the inspector (who was just as suspicious as the rest of us) to get to the bottom of it. 

 

I played the role of Henry Hooch (there are never enough boys in our program), a man eagerly trying to break into the gold mine that is prohibition.  The irony of this character was too hard to resist because generally it's my job to keep hooch out of my student's clutches, not try to arrange business deals with them about how to illegally import it.

I wasn't the only person playing with gender roles this evening, and the congress(wo)man certainly won the crowd's approval with his/her hyperbolic mustache, securing the award for Best Costume!

As the evening progressed, several weapons were discovered and more homicides tainted the party.  Apparently, Big Jim had beef with a lot of people.  The crowd continued to bribe, steal from, and extort each other as suspicions escalated, until finally the inspector came back with the results of his weapons tests and everyone cast their votes for who the original killer was.

Harvard's Villa I Tatti

This week I had the opportunity to accompany Alan to Harvard University's Villa I Tatti, located near Fiesole, for a quick visit.  It was a gorgeous spring day and in addition to the esteemed Berenson library (at which only about 100 fellows per year are accepted to study), the librarian also allowed us to tour part of the grounds.  The primary gardens surrounding their villa were designed by Geoffrey Scott and Cecil Pinsent, the same architects that designed our formal gardens at Villa Le Balze. One can certainly note some similarities! 

Mo' saics, Mo' beauty

Saturday I resisted the urge to sleep in and instead woke up at the crack of dawn to train to Ravenna, the city of mosaics, in the region of Emilia-Romagna.  I've been wanting to go since I lived in Bologna (when I was geographically much closer) and now that my departure date is approaching, I'm starting to find these destination goals ever more pressing!  

I adore mosaics (but really, who doesn't?) and was thrilled to see so many churches decorated with these tiniest fragments of glass that 1,500 years ago were magically transformed into glorious instructional pieces of Byzantine art.  The mosaics are built into centuries of Ravenna's fascinating history as a crossroads where east met west.

My first stop was the octagonal Arian Baptistry with an awe-inspiring mosaic of Christ being baptized in the River Jordan, surrounded by the 12 apostles.  Jesus is shockingly human (and quite naked in the transparent waters) which exhibited his human rather than divine nature (the main deviation point in Arian Christianity).  Built in 526, it was very controversial and considered heretic in its day.

Aside from its mosaics, Ravenna is famous as the burial place of Dante Alghieri, who was exiled from Florence and later died in Ravenna.  There continues a feud between the two cities to this day, as Florence posthumously forgave Dante his transgressions and still wants his poetic bones back.  I was expecting a bit more pomp and circumstance for the father of the unified Italian language, but at least the fence surrounding the tomb's garden was pretty ornate.

The most spectacular sight in the city is the Basilica di San Vitale, built by Emperor Justinian in 540 as the Roman empire was falling.  The mosaics are overwhelming in their story-telling ability, with beautiful scenes mostly from the old testament.  I can just imagine priests effectively using them to preach the bible to their illiterate congregation.  The art seems perfectly conserved and that in itself is some kind of miracle.

Right nearby San Vitale is the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, whose golden mosaics literally twinkle in the sunlight emanating from the windows.  The most interesting scene was of St. Lawrence looking sprightly as he prepares to be martyred on his flaming grill. 

For a break from all the religiosity, I headed to lunch at a great place called Ristorante la Gardela, where I ate cappelletti in ragu accompanied by a much-missed Sangiovese.  After any Italian lunch, I mostly feel sleepy on account of all the food, tipsy thanks to the wine, and finally somewhat agitated as a result of the espresso.  Then I'm inflicted with the fear of a heart attack on account of mixing said wine with said coffee.  But mostly I'm just content with the ease of the Italian dining process and the quality of the food, until I'm reminded that soon I will be lunching with grab and go turkey sandwiches and Caesar salads.  Sigh.

After my cultural philosophizing I jumped right back into my mosaics, visiting the Archiepiscopal Museum (with the Chapel of Sant'Andrea), the Neonian Baptistry, and the fantastic Basilica di Sant'Apollinare Nuovo. 

The Basilica di Sant'Apollinare Nuovo had wonderful art, but it was harder to appreciate because everything was very high up on the walls and dimly lit.  One side of the basilica is lined with a procession of virgins and the three kings (check out the fabulous pants) delivering gifts to the Madonna and Child. 

Later in the afternoon I sat on the Piazza del Popolo drinking a coke and reading my book until I got the itch to be more active (big mistake).  I checked out a too-big but free bike from the tourist office and attempted to navigate my way through the town, without fail heading the wrong direction down every one-way street, hitting every pothole, and frightening hoards of people as I almost crashed into them and once even a baby stroller, too.  So after a very short while I returned the bike and went shopping instead, where I bought a beautiful mosaic cross from a local artist before heading back to the station.

It was a colorful day, and this picture of me crashing on my (super cheap regional) train is just to prove that I really was there, since I was too focused on documenting the art to get any shots with my mug in them!

TJ

Anna, my friend from Siena who now works in Florence for another American program, and Anna Maria, my friend from (can I say here, "being Alan's wife?"), yes, well, from that, and I finally managed to get together for a ladies' night out.  We decided on Mexican at a place called Tijuana, which despite the snooty waitresses had delicious food (granted, after three months without burritos, one's expectations and impressions become more desperate than accurate-but it really was surprisingly good).  It was was great to munch on guacamole and nurse my margarita, but the real treat was spending a couple hours with these two lovely ladies.  I'm sure going to miss you two!

Lucca Love

We went on our annual field trip to Lucca this weekend, but believe me when I say I don't mind the repeat.  Lucca's meandering streets filled with friendly Lucchese, generous offering of great shopping, and unbroken walls on which to bike easily make it my favorite town in Tuscany.  The fact that the Degl'Innocenti clan is from that neck of the woods might play a bit on my nostalgia as well.

There were two definite highlights to the day, and unsurprisingly each involves one of my favorite Italian products: leather and gelato.

By a stroke of luck, we landed in Lucca on the day of their monthly antique fair.  During our long lunch break, I strolled through the gigantic market that filled several large piazzas, overflowed into smaller ones, and continued still to fill in the cracks of small alleyways.  There were loads of beautiful paintings and masterfully crafted furniture, heirloom jewelery and precious silverware, and a whole lot of junk.  My point of no return was at a vintage leather booth, where I fell in love with and purchased a tan leather satchel from the 70's.  I paid less and the leather is already broken in-what a deal!

Later, while biking the walls, Fabrizio, the history professor, and I came across a man both peddling and pedaling his gelato cart through the groups of jolly weekend customers.  We took a break to enjoy our refreshing snack, and when Fabrizio went back for a second cone, an old local nonna plopped down on my bench, gelato in hand.  When I asked her what flavors she had selected, she mumbled with a certain careless attitude that her selection had been, "Basta che sia gelato."  She couldn't have cared less about the flavor; the fact that it was gelato was enough for her.  Not much for conversation, that one, but I understand the need to be left alone with one's gelato.