Because the night...

She may be the queen of rock 'n' roll, so why shouldn't she play a palace?

Patti Smith and two of her band members, Lenny Kaye and Tony Shanahan, put on a knockout acoustic show at the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence on Wednesday night.

Smith delivered compelling renditions of signature tunes People Have the Power and Because the Night, as well as a stirring Helpless, the timeless Neil Young song, which she dedicated to her late husband. Smith sprinkled mesmerizing poetry into the mix. The highlight: a ferocious version of Allen Ginsberg's Howl.

This was pretty much Patti Smith week in Florence, a series of appearances and performances featuring the New Jersey-born muse to mark the 30th anniversary of a memorable show she gave in the city.

A small gallery presented some of Smith's own photos, an opening she saluted by playing a few songs in the street. An exhibit at the city archives, meanwhile, offered a black-and-white photo chronicle of that notable 1979 gig.
Smith seemed pleased and humbled to be feted in a city where the creative vibe is generously appreciated.

No place like gnome

Cedric celebrated Canada Day by hanging a patriotic banner in the window of ESI European headquarters in Florence.

All is peaceful today. But not so last night.

The tiny troll had a run-in with the carbinieri after guzzling a bit too much maple syrup. Seems he tried to climb the faux David statue outside the Palazzo Vecchio, alarming passersby.

Having discovered what a poor climber he is, I think the syrup is now stashed safely out of his miniscule reach.

Don't worry, spring is just around the corner

Image: Audrey braved Florence traffic to capture this doggone vespa shot

Galling Galileo Gamesmanship

Poor Galileo Galilei. First his works were banned by the church. Then the father of modern science was subject to house arrest. In his final years he was completely blind, having suffered vision problems throughout his life.

Of course, it didn't stop him from making earthshaking breakthroughs in astronomy and physics, including discovery of Jupiter's largest satellites and early analysis of sunspots. Not to mention design of the first automatic tomato picker.

Now some overly zealous British and Italian scientists want to exhume Galileo's body to determine whether his irregular sight affected his findings.

Is this any way to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Galileo's initial use of a refracting telescope? Methinks not. Memo to scientists: my astronomical mentor is not a shovel-ready experiment.

Workout Wednesday

Because a mind is a terrible thing to waste

Of course, Dwarfie might also be excommunicated...

While wandering the streets of Lucca, my companions and I stumbled across a crowd gathered on the steps of San Michele in Foro basilica. Turns out the local townsfolk were commemorating the annual feast day of St. Giovanni Leonardi.

Born in Lucca in 1541, ol' John seems to have more than earned his saintly stripes, caring for the sick and eventually succumbing to the influenza that swept Italy in 1609.

Leonardi was canonized in 1938 and a couple of years ago became a patron saint of pharmacists, having worked as an assistant to one. Which got me thinking, decades from now one of the ESIs, say Fourth Dwarf, could become the patron saint of bloggers. Of course, 6th Apostle may have something to say about this.



Top illustration: http://www.pjonline.com/

Workout Wednesday

The good citizens of Lucca limber up

First Feline of Florence

Wise and whiskered
In his element
Oblivious to mantras, miscues and meltdowns
Far from the hustings
Light orange gelato stripes listen
For the sounds of cork
Rubbing against glass
Footsteps on slow-travelled stone
And whispers in the piazza
So blissfully unaware
Of John Baird's hair

The importance of being (fashionably) earnest

Audrey, ESI Cultural Affairs Officer, is nothing if not a trendspotter. And what better place to detect the latest fashionista wave than Italia?

It appears Sarah Palin may be on to something. Audrey has noticed the look di giorno among the women of Firenze is "austere serious." Simple. Understated. Muted. Dark colours. Perhaps with hair pulled back.

In short, nothing too flashy. Kind of like the Alaskan governess. As the Washington Post's Robin Givhan recently noted about Palin, "Her clothes are unpretentious, but they are also unremarkable. ... Everyone knows someone who dresses like her, which is partly why so many folks seem to think that they know her."

Image: Near the Mercato Centrale, Firenze, 01/10/08

Advice from Audrey: Tuscan Resolution

More useful advice from our dear friend Audrey:

I was discussing my New Year's resolutions with Conch Shell earlier this year and she did not offer up her resolutions. In fact, she told me that she has decided to be unambitious this year.

Unlike me, she is not worrying about: getting the ESIs to meet at a place other than the Usual Spot, losing five pounds, finding a cheap fare to Rome, writing a screenplay, being a better daughter/sister, drinking more champagne, buying more flowers, doing more volunteer work, spending more time on patios, watching more episodes of Tom Green's House Tonight on the Comedy Network, or finding a cute boyfriend.

I thought that maybe I could help a reader to fulfill one of his/her New Year's resolutions. If one of your resolutions is to rent a villa in Tuscany, or purchase property in Italy, read on.

Renting a villa in Tuscany

Several years ago, friends and I rented a delightful villa near the hilltop town Castiglion Fiorentino, in Tuscany. Castiglion Fiorentino is extremely well-located; it is on the rail-line between Rome (2.5 hours) and Florence (1 hour). The next town (but not on the rail-line) is Cortona, the setting of "Under the Tuscan Sun".

The villa was one of five that have been created from the restoration of an ancient country house and outbuildings. The property is exactly what you would wish for: there is a castle at the top of the hill, an olive grove hugs the hillside, grape vines line the laneway, there is a beautifully maintained swimming pool, there are lemon trees in pots, and there is a cute little dog that will sit at your feet if you beg him to!

We stayed in the largest villa, Giogo, and opted for the 3 bedroom/3 bathroom option. We also viewed the smallest villa, Tino, and loved it. The owners rent out late-model cars but you can walk to the train station, the grocery store, and several wineries. The grocery store was just like an Italian Loblaws! It had everything, including wine, fresh bread, fresh pasta, prepared deli food, and wonderful cheeses.

Purchasing a property in Italy

In 2007, the IO and I were in Italy and viewed some properties. Before leaving home, we spent many hours searching for property on-line, primarily at the following sites:

• keyitaly.com
• remax.it
• lalocandina.it
• italianrealestates.com
• sunshineestates.net
  
• property.livinginitaly.co.uk
• immobiliarelaudani.com

One of the agents took us to a medieval hilltop town north of Perugia, in Umbria near the border with Tuscany, where a variety of 1 and 2-bedroom apartments were for sale. These properties had recently been renovated and lacked only finishing touches. Although the location did not suit us, we thought that the properties were delightful and very affordable (starting at 80,000 euros ($120,000)).

Property for sale in Perugia

Audrey: No or yes?

This missive is just in from Audrey:

I was in Florence recently, and had lunch at one of my favorite places: the self-serve restaurant Ristorante Self-Service Leonardo on Via de' Pecori.

The cashier, who recognized me from my two previous visits that week, asked me a question. His question, in rapid Italian, was incomprehensible to me, so I replied, "No."

He looked amused and said, "No, or yes?"

I replied, "Yes."

He said, "You should usually say no, but sometimes you should say yes…"

******

Once, when I was sun-tanning on the steps of the Palazzo delle Esposizioni museum in Rome, an Italian man came up to me and admonished me, telling me that I could get skin cancer. Then he invited me to go on vacation with him in Spain for two weeks. I said, "no".

Another time, on a train from Rome to Paris, an Italian businessman, who was clearly admiring my legs, invited me to get off the train with him in Monte Carlo. He told me that, as a resident of that city, he could give me a wonderful tour. I said, "no".

I was at a conference with a married colleague a few years ago, and as we entered our adjoining hotel rooms, he looked back at me. And, although he didn't say anything, I understood the question. I said, "no".

And, maybe every woman has had this experience. You are just starting a relationship (exploratory dating) and he is sitting on your couch, looking up expectantly. And you lean in and kiss him and feel - nothing at all. No warmth, no passion for him, no chemistry. And you were longing for a relationship. And he is a good man. But, you say "no".

******

So, dear reader, as I go through this adventurous life, sometimes I do say "yes" and, quite frequently, I say "no". I've noticed that we all react differently to these situations that offer unforeseen pleasure. Do you look back, as I do, and wonder what would have happened if you had said "yes"? Do you have any stories to share?

Announcement

The Elgin Street Irregulars are pleased to announce* the appointment of the Independent Observer as Director of Italian Affairs. The IO and Audrey, ESI Cultural Liaison Officer, have spent the last few months establishing the blog's world headquarters in Florence.

"My goal is to raise awareness of the ESI brand in Italy," the IO said. "Currently the blog gets three or four hits a month from Italian visitors, most of them winding up here by accident, or attracted by one of Aggie's recipes. With some sustained effort, I can help double or even triple those numbers by the year 2011."

Working from the historic San Lorenzo district, the IO has been busily conducting outreach activities at Osteria Pepo's trattoria and the nearby Dublin Pub.

"It is demanding, difficult work," added the IO when finally reached this week. "But make no mistake, demanding and difficult are my middle names."

* Pending approval at the next Emergency Meeting

Photo: Visits to the resting place of Galileo, also handy with a telescope, will prove inspirational to the IO as he assumes his new duties.

A night at the opera

In our mutual quest to understand and appreciate all things Italian, Audrey and I joined friends this week at Opera Lyra's inspiring performance of Don Giovanni.

Here is Audrey's list of the top five reasons to go to the opera:

1. Beautiful, well-dressed men in the audience.
2. Beautiful, well-dressed men onstage.
3. The performers sing in Italian but it is almost impossible to distinguish the words. Therefore, practise your French instead by reading the English surtitles and then the French ones.
4. Make notes for future play "Springsteen: the Rock Opera".
5. Be one of the local glitterati for an evening!

When in Rome, do as Audrey does

Audrey and I were strolling by the Basilica San Lorenzo the other day when she abruptly stopped, turned and insisted I pause to have a look.

"Aren't these shoes marvellous?" she said, gazing in the men's store window. "Wouldn't it be fun if you tried them on tomorrow?"

"Fun might be stretching the boundaries of the word," I replied.

Ah, Italia. Home of Michelangelo, da Vinci, Brunelleschi.

And Gucci, Versace and Armani.

Yes, in modern Italy, sleek handbags, finely tailored suits and eye-catching shoes compete with Renaissance masterworks for the curious traveller's attention.

And for every 15th-century mural or finely chiselled marble sculpture there is at least one shop window displaying lacy lingerie, silk ties or leather coats. No wonder James Bond feels at home in Italy, gamely speeding under Venetian bridges without even wrinkling his Cardinale slacks.

Though not aggressively unfashionable, the IO spent more time under the Tuscan sun admiring frescoes than footwear. The ever-stylish Audrey, however, is a veritable Siren of foreign fashionistas. And so on occasion I found myself in her company, not comparing the brushwork of Botticelli and Michelangelo but gauging the fit of handsome wool coats.

The wares are undeniably fine. But a touch pricey in the posh boutiques. After all, does one really need to plunk down enough euros for an Armani tie to buy 20 County ales at one of the more inviting Elgin Street pubs?

Walking back to the hotel, we passed a clutch of market-stall street vendors selling less expensive yet still desirable bags, belts and scarves. In fact I picked up three fetching Italian silk ties bearing a respectable fashion-house label for a grand total of a mere 20 euros.

Take that, Mr. Versace.

Field Report from Audrey

Earlier today, the lovely Audrey sent this report from Venice to update us on the progress she and the Independent Observer are making on their Italian research mission.

8:30 a.m. The IO woke with a start and saw it was too early to get up. He channel-surfed through CNN, Sky News, BBC World Service, ten Italian stations, one French station, and one German station. 'Street Legal' was on in Italian. Another Canadian drama was on the French channel, with subtitles en francais.

9:30 a.m. Breakfast in the elaborately frescoed dining room with Audrey. The IO tried to ignore the insistent American tourist who kept badgering the Japanese waitress: 'Two cappuccinos... two cappuccinos... two cappuccinos... two cappuccinos...' The IO ate a croissant with jam, two slices of ham, two pieces of Swiss cheese, a bowl of tinned peaches and fruiti di bosco yogurt. He yearned for fresh fruit. Although he was longing for a coffee, he delayed ordering his caffè Americano because of the irritating American tourist.

A gondolier sailed past the window singing O sole mio and the IO turned to the window and focussed his camera on the party of tourists in the boat. One of the tourists, a cute brunette, focussed her camera on him.

10:30 a.m. Leaving the hotel for a day of sightseeing, the IO says hello ('ciao!') to the comely receptionist, and wondered yet again if she was really Italian (she seemed to speak perfect Italian), or if she was Austrian, German or Swiss. Or Swiss-German? She was fair with freckles... He thought about asking her where she was from but Audrey's beckoning kept him on his path to the front door.

11:30 a.m. - 8:30 p.m. The IO was kept busy with tourist activities: the John Singer Sargent exhibition of Venetian paintings (marvellous!), shopping with Audrey (Her frequent plea: 'Sorry, sorry , sorry, but could we just look in this shoe store...'), a tour of the Doge's Palace, a walk along the canals, making mini-movies of pigeons in Piazza San Marco with Audrey.

8:30 p.m. Audrey asks 'Is that your friend?' The IO turns to see. A glamorous blonde floats across the Piazza San Marco in a long white skirt with a tight, light-pink blouse. It is the friend the IO is to meet. She embraces the IO and extends her hand to Audrey. All the men nearby are envious. The IO decides that it will be an interesting evening...

11:30 p.m. All have finished dinner. They are walking along the street, near the Rialto Bridge. The glamorous blonde is looking for a café that she remembers from the week before, when she was out with her classmates. Audrey is looking dejected - she is footsore and tired of drinking. She does not love wine as the others do. Plus, she is the third wheel! The IO does not notice that the glamorous blonde wants to be out and about, to have fun, to be seen, to be admired. His repeated requests to stop at quiet bars or to sit at quaint piers are rejected. However, when it is time to go home, he gallantly escorts the glamorous blonde to her boat, and then across the canal to the island where she has an apartment. He kisses her goodbye, on the cheeks. He returns to the hotel by vaporetto.

Venice has blindsided this reporter with her beauty.