I (Don't) Want My HGTV!

I’m ditching the remote. I’m pulling the plug on HGTV and breaking away from browsing the magazine racks. I have tossed too much money to publishers of home improvement “guides” that charge ridiculous cover prices for useless fluff. I’ve wasted too many hours in front of the tube in search of inspiration for our renovations only to find myself frustrated and hapless, so I’m calling it quits on consumer design theory.

I’m tired of seeing cavernous kitchens that are termed “small space,” and I cannot watch one minute more of would-be home buyers traipsing around far-flung locales flinging around $700,000 budgets for vacation homes they’ll visit for a few weeks a year. So-called “Tuscany style” books, *so* aren’t.

Magazines show lovely before-and-after photos, but when you’re dealing with a house that is mere decades old and giving it a makeover, and you have a super-sized home improvement store down the street, it’s fairly easy to be a do-it-yourselfer. This Old House? HA!

Shows that promise design solutions make me laugh. Sure! Anyone can remodel when you’re pulling out wafer-thin drywall, slapping up a coat of latex, and scattering advertiser-sponsored accessories about liberally. I say, try taking a 300-year old stone building cantilevered onto a mountain with walls that are three feet thick and an electrical system that is roughly one generation removed from Edison…then find me and we’ll talk.

We’re discovering why big home-improvement stores aren’t…uh, big in Italy. Any small undertaking has the potential to become a major ordeal. This is a bit tough for Bryan, an avowed putterer and competent DIYer.

I carried home some Italian magazines which had fabulous photos and ideas, and were well qualified to offer suggestions on ancient structures and their unique qualities, but they suffered unfortunate bloody deaths in my suitcase. The sole survivor was the one I purchased for the cantina restoration, a project we won’t be tackling for quite some time.

To make the place habitable, at least to a camping level, we need a kitchen. Houses in Italy, if you don’t already know, come bare. We’re talking no fixtures, no kitchen cupboards, no sink, buck nekkid bare. One dusty bulb hangs from a wire in the living area as a lone light source. We are luckier than some: we have functional bathroom fixtures and a roof. Many homes we looked at contained neither.

Lovely Old-World Kitchen...would love to find one of these!

I wasn’t thrilled with the previous owner’s placement of the kitchen and gray-tiled walls. I have been weighing the idea of moving it to the other side of the large living space. I explained my thought to our engineer-slash-contractor friend who assured me it was doable. All I’d have to do would be to jackhammer up the floor the entire length of the room and plumb in piping, then jackhammer some more to create a drainage system, make a trench through the stone wall to transfer electrical wires, and then wrap a gas line around the outside of the building to that part of the house. Then, of course, find tiles that match the flooring to fix the jack-hammered parts or else tear out all the tiles and redo the entire pavement for the room. No problem.

I think now the kitchen may remain where it currently rests. But the odd-sized space, the fireplace, the uneven walls, and weird window placements present challenges. I’ve sought solutions, but so far they’ve eluded me. All the kitchen designs here are for enormous rooms with an acre of countertop and a six-burner pro-style stove. In short, they’re bigger than my entire allotted living-dining-kitchen space.

Italian design kitchen sites are fabulously geared toward small spaces, but are also frequently, fabulously modern. I briefly toyed with going sleek and gleamy as a contrast to the antique character of the place, but then decided that I’d prefer to keep it rustic. Finding the items and figuring out how to make them fit in the limited space is another matter. The visions pirouette in my head but whether they’ll work in real life is anyone’s guess.

But first things first. Doors. Our first simple project is to replace the two sets of decayed French doors that lead to balconies from the living room and bedroom. Alas, “simple” is such a relative word. The project is going to involve stone masons and wood workers. A door cannot simply be purchased and installed. There are no standard, pre-fab sizes ready and waiting at Lowe’s. It has to be specially made to fit the opening. Rotted lintels and jambs must be removed. The stone must be repaired after their removal. New lintels and jambs must be installed. Then the doors that have been made just for our piccola casa can be hung. Except. The thresholds need work, too. More stone masonry.

It probably would all be fairly simple and straight-forward if we were there, but communicating back and forth by email and phone calls is slow and tedious. I’ll be traveling there shortly but we needed to the get the ball rolling: the woodworker needed to order the materials so he can make the doors. The stone mason had to meet with him in case the stone work would change the dimensions of the openings. Photos, emails, and misunderstandings have abounded. It’s a clumsy ballet played out in work boots and cyberspace.

If HGTV wants some compelling restoration viewing, this would do nicely, I think. Much more challenging than most of the “reality” shows I’ve turned off. But alas, they have no programs like “Design on a Euro-Dime” or “Rustic Old World Kitchens in the Old World” or “Generation Renovation: The Medieval Edition”, so I’ll be tuning out.

Happy Birthday Roma!

Tanti auguri a Roma, the Eternal City is celebrating its 2763rd birthday.  For an old gal, she is still full of vigor, vitality and verve.  The city that was started by orphaned demigods has never forgotten its semi-supernatural birth, somehow pinpointing its fateful founding moment to April 21 and parlaying it into a party celebrating its past.

The mythical origins of Rome come from the legendary pairing of pagan god Mars with a vestal virgin, who gave birth to twins, Romulus and Remus.  Modern Romans are ever aware of their partial deity origins as well as her place in world history, which is why they consider their city the center of the universe- or at least the center of Italian culture, history and politics.  A couple of Roman friends weren't too amused by the title of a play that was performed in Ascoli Piceno last year, "Ascoli era Ascoli quando Roma era pascoli" - rough translation: Ascoli was already a city when Rome was still a pasture.  While they conceded the historical truth, they also pointed out that Rome subsequently conquered and destroyed Ascoli, then rebuilt it as a Roman city, whose street pattern and ruins remain.

The birthday bash will go on all week with elaborately costumed re-enactments, parades and concerts, lavish banquets, long-winded speeches, chariot races, and eye-popping fireworks.  Admission to the city's museums will be free.

If you can't be in Rome to celebrate, don't fret, you can still fete at home:

*Tie on a toga and do dinner like the ancients with this rundown of Roman recipes. 

Prefer to eat something from this millenium?  Kyle Phillips offers a lot of classic dishes from the Rome region.  Or order a more modern specialty, Pesto alla Romana, developed by my friend Giorgio, utilizing the flavors of the countryside - mint, hazelnuts and pecorino romano.

*Learn your Roman name.  (Mine would Gaia Valeria Fortuna...has a nice ring, don't you think?)

*See the scenery of the bella citta' through a slew of web cams.  Secret Rome's photos capture candid shots and spectacular spots all over town.  Roma Every Day gives you a daily photo fix.

*Light some torches and sing a rousing rendition of Tanti auguri a te, while eating a Nutella birthday cake.

Happy Birthday, Roma!  Still bella after all these years!

Graphic credit: Ancient Worlds.net

Friends and Famiglia

While looking through some photos recently -old family treasures as well as newer shots- I realized just how many pictures I have (and how many I still need to label, categorize, and edit, but that's another story!)  Both sides of my family have boxloads and hard drives full of photos, so I think it must be a genetic trait to hold on to them instead of weeding them out.  While I really not a pack-rat, photos rarely get pitched. 

My grandmother was notorious for sneaking snapshots when you least expected it, although to her dismay a high proportion of her pictures decapitated someone or caught a corner of her thumb in the process.  It didn't matter, she kept them all and rolled them out at every family gathering.  I admit I always loved looking at them, laughing at the clothes and hairstyles, and reliving funny family moments.

While looking through and labeling some of my more recent shots, I realized that not only do we have wonderful familial ties with family members who are also friends, but I have treasured friends who have become a part of my family, too.  Glancing at the photos, it also struck me that some of these friends even look like family!

Can you tell which ones are related and which ones aren't?

A Day of Remembrance

This morning at 3:32 a.m. the bells of L'Aquila tolled resonantly, pealing 308 times for each victim of the earthquake that ravaged this city one year ago.  More than 20,000 people braved the high-altitude night chill and threatening rain to gather and commemorate the moment that changed their lives and their city forever. 

They snaked through the rubble-strewn centro storico in a solemn torch and candle-lit procession, making their way to the Piazza Duomo.  At 4:00 a.m. a mass was held inside the severely damaged Basilica, with big screens set up in the piazza to bring the message of hope and perseverance to the overflowing crowd.

While the tendopoli have been dismantled and prefabricated houses have been set up, they are temporary shelters far removed from the city, in "non places" that lack public transit connections, grocery stores, restaurants and gathering spots.  The residents are housed but they are not at home.  They are in a sort of limbo in a hinterland; the heart of their community has been destroyed and they do not yet have a place to regain that sense of being and belonging that they need and crave.  The centro is still overflowing with 4 1/2 million tons of rubble and the residents are not allowed to enter their old neighborhoods, their piazzas, their homes.

The earth-jarring, life-shattering quake took place one year ago.  The aftershocks have ceased, the victims have been buried, the survivors have carried on, but tremors of displacement, disillusion and devastation continue to rock their world.

Today I bow my head and pause to remember; I stand with the Aquilani to tell them that they are not forgotten.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Related Links:

Dear Davide:  A touching letter from 12-year old Sofia to a classmate who died in the earthquake.

3:32 a.m.:  Eleonora's experience during the earthquake and her time in Abruzzo.

Then and Now:  A photographic slideshow of scenes comparing them from a year ago to today.

Abruzzo: Un Anno Dopo il Terremoto - a report on the state of the area one year later (in Italian)

Adopt a Student from Abruzzo.  NIAF continues their support of Abruzzo students to help them continue their studies.

The Eagle is Slowly Rising.  My previous blog entries about L'Aquila.

** Post Edited 4/7/10 to add photos of the MAPs (Moduli Abitativi Provvisori, modular provisional housing units).  They are clumped together and located in rural areas or villages outside of L'Aquila.  A list of those locales is posted on the Protezione Civile website.   As the photos show, these are rapidly-constructed temporary dwellings, resembling glorified Tuff-sheds on concrete slabs.  They are certainly better than tents, but they do not embody or encourage the sense of "home" and place that make a community.

photo credits: veggiefrog and Protezione Civile Nazionale

A Basilicata Recap

I received some wonderful emails after the last post, several from folks considering a trip to Basilicata and asking for travel information.  Got me to thinking that maybe I should start an incoming travel agency!  ;) 

I have written about our various journeys through Lucania, but thought this would be a good time to provide some links and a recap of some of them for blog newcomers who have missed those posts.

Matera

We have spent a few months there when you add up all our trips and have come to consider Matera one of the most fascinating cities in Italy.  Whenever we're in town we make ourselves at home at Residence San Giorgio.  The Suite dei Granai is awesome!  Suite della Bifora is romantic and has an ancient underground wine chamber.  All the suites are spacious and most of them have little kitchens, which is a nice convenience.

So just what do we love so much about Matera?

The Cats.  Matera has oodles of cute-as-can-be kitties.  They are not so skittish or feral that they dash off.  On the contrary, many of them purr and wait for some affection.

The Music.  Whether it's classical, jazz, bird songs or chiming bells we hear music wherever we go.

The Stone.  Matera is built upon, into, and out of rock.  It is endlessly interesting and beautiful.

The Food.  I've written restaurant reviews for Matera as well as other parts of Basilicata, so hop over to Slow Travel and rev up the tastebuds.

All Around The Region:

Pisticci is a pretty town that captured our imaginations so much we even sought out real estate offices there.  Obviously we chose Lucanella instead, but I think we could have felt very much at home there.

The people of Aliano demonstrate their gratitude to Carlo Levi by keeping his legacy alive all over town, which has been declared a "national literary park".

The death of Craco is oddly and ironically what draws visitors to the ghostly spires and overgrown streets of this abandoned town.

The days of the Briganti and the Risorgimento are relived every summer through the spectacular production, La Storia Bandita at La Grancia Historical Park. 

Thrill seekers will find that Basilicata is not as sedate as you might think.  You can fly like an angel at the Volo del Angelo, a high-flying zipline suspended over a very deep gorge.

And for those of you who missed my two-part rant about how Basilicata gets dissed in the press, be sure to read A Little Misguided and Misinformed, where I declare my undying love in defense of the Motherland. 

Visual Basilicata

I know I've been talking a lot about Basilicata lately.  Only natural, since I just returned and am giddy over the place.  As I read through some of my previous posts from years past, I realize that words just don't do it all justice.  I can utilize every adjective at my disposal ,but the astounding beauty and my visceral reaction to it cannot be fully experienced through black typeface on a white page.

That's why today I'm giving you the visual experience of this place that has captured my heart.  Maybe by looking at photos, watching videos, and seeing the webcams you'll understand why I love it so!

Panoramio
 The whole landscape of Lucania is covered by fantastic photos and maps on this shutterbug site.




Valle dell'Agri.  An agriturismo site that put up a lovely slideshow of the seasonally-changing vistas of the Agri River valley.

Basilicata Autentica. Francis Ford Coppola describes why his ancestral region is such a great place...good enough for him to invest heavily in the reconstruction of a palazzo that will soon open as a hotel.




Basilicata in Scena.  Clever marketing video assembled by the Region of Basilicata, comparing its gems to the most important places around the world.



Matera Webcams.   I love looking at webcams, especially those that have a birdseye view onto a piazza.  Matera boasts two.  It's *almost* like being there.  Okay, not really.  You can't smell the coffee or hear the chatter and church bells, but they're fun to watch anyway, especially during the passeggiata.

One webcam is set up above Piazza Vittorio Veneto, while the other is mounted in Piazza del Sedile.  (I discovered that it is raining in Matera today, just like it is here in Virginia.)


The Anzi page on Facebook has some gorgeous photos of that hamlet (which is one of my ancestral villages), including a picture taken at a festa that happened to capture Bryan and me in the shot!


Enjoy the spectacular scenery!

Potenza

My first impression of Potenza several years ago was not a favorable one.  Viewed from the valley as we exited the autostrada to find our way up into the mountains toward my ancestral villages, all I noticed was the industrial gloom and railway tracks.  Looking up toward the city didn't improve my impression much; modern, concrete, glass.  Not much charm, I thought.  I was relieved to get into the placid heights and sheep-strewn hills.

I admit that my second and third encounters with the city that is the capital of the Basilicata region as well as of the Potenza province didn't do much to raise my opinion, either.  While spending several weeks in the area last year, Bryan and I made some forays into town only to find ourselves perpetually lost in the swirling maze of a nonsensical street pattern.  Impatient, horn-blowing drivers and misguided signage prevented us from reaching the centro storico.  We gave up in frustration and fled back to the tranquil agriturismo, cursing the obviously sadistic engineer who laid out the current streets and wondering why anyone would want to live in the tenement-like housing blocks we had seen.

It ought to be beautiful.  Potenza is Italy's highest regional capital at 819 meters (nearly 2700 feet) and is nearly encircled by the Appenine Mountains.  Originally inhabited by the ancient Lucani people, it came under Roman control and dubbed Potentia.  The famed via Appia which connected Rome to Brindisi crosses Potenza. 

The area saw nearly constant invasions: the Samnites, the Goths, Lombards, Saracens, Normans, French and Spanish.  It was heavily bombed by the Allies during WWII.  When the poor place wasn't being sacked, pillaged, invaded, raided, dominated or bombed, it was rattled by earthquakes, the most recent a devastingly strong one in 1980 that left much of Potenza in rubble.  The subsequent antiseismic reconstruction measures sacrificed charm for security, giving the city its current, unattractive aspect.

But, as I discovered with Napoli, there is more than meets the eye on an initial encounter.  Once I procured a decent map of the town and consulted with some locals, I found that Potenza isn't as dreary and disorderly as originally perceived.  There is history hidden behind its modern, ungainly facade.  In fact, the lofty centro storico is downright delightful.

Potenza wraps itself around the hill that it occupies.  Stretched along the ridgetop is the long and narrow historical center which is most easily reached by a series of escalators, a less frustrating arrival than the twisty streets.  (There are escalators on both the north and south sides of the city.) 

Once on top of the hill we found medieval city gates, narrow pedestrial lanes, attractive stone buildings and pretty palazzi.  There is a snazzy shopping street boasting cute cafes, and in the main piazza we found a compact but elegantly-outfitted opera theatre complete with velvet-trimmed boxes encircling the interior.  there is an impressive archeological museum.

The charming, narrow via Pretoria wends across the crest, giving way to piazzas and pedestrian alleys along the route.  We peeked into the courtyards of centuries-old palaces while browsing shop windows.  This is the site of the impressive evening passeggiata, that daily ritual of roaming the streets to meet friends and be seen.  Potenza's is vibrant and vociferous.  The city is also home to a large university as well as a prestigious music conservatory, which lend a youthful air to the place.

I was glad to find such a friendly and lively heart.  It is the closest city of substance to Lucanella, and we'll no doubt find ourselves there frequently for services that our village lacks.  While much of the town's commercial activity is in the lower, sprawled-out industrial area, it is nice to know there is still history and a sense of community and a gathering spot for the Potentini despite the glass and concrete cloak.

Potenza will never have the eternal appeal of Matera; it can't, given its spine-shattering past.  But it is growing on me. After a few visits the roads that seemed so confusing started to make sense to me, and I came to appreciate how quickly we could get out of the city and into the countryside.  In just minutes the residents can leave the asphalt jungle for high, forested mountains with tranquil trails, pristine air and ethereal views.  Potenza is not so bad after all.

Related links:

Photos of Potenza by a local