Showing posts with label Italy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Italy. Show all posts

Cabinet of Curiosities by Katherine Webb

My first ever offering to the Cabinet of Curiosities are these very plain, rather dented pewter jugs:



The largest stands at 10cm tall, the smallest at a mere 6cm; or, more importantly, stamped onto the handles are the volumes they hold: 1 deciliter, 1/2 deciliter and 2 centiliter. Any guesses as to what they were for?

I bought these jugs in Italy while I was there researching The Night Falling a few years ago, from an old lady in the town of Gioia del Colle in the far south of the country. I had just been to look around a wonderful private museum called the Museo Della Civilta' Contadina - or Museum of Rural Life. This vast, private collection has been put together and is run by a man called Vito Santoiemma, and fills several huge warehouses in what used to be the family's sawmill in the town. It holds an astonishing array of objects related to every aspect of rural life in that part of Italy in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and I got lost in it for hours.

Inside the museum. The jars on the floor with the wooden lids are called prisor, and are what most families would have had as their only toilet. It had to be carried out and emptied daily, into a slops barrel which was then dragged out of town and used to fertilise the fields. Disease, unsurprisingly, was rife.

At the end of my visit, I asked if there was any small thing I could buy to take back with me, and was told that an old lady (I never did get her name!) might have something to sell. These jugs appeared, and I was asked how much I was willing to pay for them - always a tricky question when you have absolutely no idea of an item's worth - both materially and to the person selling it! She seemed both delighted and bemused by my offer of Euro20, and so I had a piece of history to bring home with me.

The smallest jug, with 2 centiliter stamped onto the handle.

I've written before about the shocking living conditions experienced by the vast majority of people in Southern Italy in the first half of the twentieth century. A few wealthy, often absent, landlords owned all the land and all the housing, and the peasants - some 80% of the rest of the population - had no means to live but to pay for the rent on tiny, inadequate apartments by selling their labour in the fields for a daily rate. They were exhausted, hungry, angry, and powerless, and when they rose up in 1921 and 1922, in a broadly socialist movement, they were crushed again by the rise of fascism.

The milkman's bicycle in Vito Santoiemma's museum, and other dairy-related items.

My jugs date from the years immediately after this, after Mussolini came to power in 1922. These jugs were given out as part of a new system of rationing intended to alleviate the problem of the poor simply starving to death in years of drought and bad harvest - and also to conserve produce that was desperately scarce all over Italy after the First World War. It seems impossible to imagine Italy being short of olive oil, but that is what the jugs were for - the rationing of olive oil. How many calories does the 2 centiliter jug represent? I estimate maybe about 100. I don't know how many people that was supposed to feed, but I do know that this was a weekly ration, not a daily one. There is plenty of anecdotal evidence of women selling their bodies to corrupt officials for an increase in the ration for their family.

So perhaps my piece of portable history is a bit dark in nature, and links directly back to dire times for one particular family. But there is always something so emotive and powerful about actually holding an object from a time that has now passed out of reach, and I kept the jugs on the shelf by my desk as I wrote my novel.


Ferragosto - or or the art of living in a Renaissance painting - Dianne Hofmeyr



If you’ve ever wanted the experience of being in Renaissance painting then head out to any village in Le Marche during the 35-40 degree days of mid August. This is Ferragosto time – the holiday derived from Feriae Augusti – festival of the Emperor Augustus - which takes place to celebrate the end of harvest. Some celebrations are virtually unchanged in form, participation and music. The palio of Sienna is well known but lesser palio’s in smaller hilltop villages where pecorino sheep still browse the olive groves on the outskirts of the town walls, are perhaps even more steeped in their traditions.

The word palio comes from the palium or piece of precious fabric that was given to the winners of horse races in ancient Rome. And most celebrations of Ferragosto involve a horse race or jousting race between different quadrants of the town or village. The hilltop town of San Ginesio on Wednesday 15th of August this year, was no exception. And while I can’t explain the intricacies of the parade I watched through shimmering heat against the backdrop of an unchanged medieval town square … it was incredibly regal. No one speaks or shouts as they walk the route to the jousting grounds where the cavalieri will compete for the palio… each group named after one of the four ancient portals to the town and dressed in the colours of their rioni.

I’ve always thought people in Renaissance paintings have a certain look that a modern face lacks. But in San Ginesio I saw figures and profiles and expressions one might expect in artwork from the School of Rimini under the influence of Giotto. How did this page boy get that look? Or these young men shouldering their crossbows display such bravery yet at the same time such vulnerability? How were the women with their long necks and calm profiles able to show such regal dignity and yet such exquisite womanliness?

These weren’t modern people. They had walked straight out of a Marchigianan painting and the 13th century stone walls and arches and far vistas of hills and sheep were merely painted backdrop.











photographs copyright Dianne Hofmeyr. Please do not reproduce without permission.