This was the week that ALL the school kids take tours of historical sites all funded by the government. Each school has its own hat
Friday, May 19, 2006
SICILY SWAPS A QUESTION
SICILY SWAPS A QUESTION FOR AN ANSWER
After a few days in Sicily you leave with the question “Why hasn’t Sicily produced a singe architect in 200 years?” and you have the answer to “Where do last year’s unsold $220 Hogan tennies and $150 Gucci leather belts wind up?”
On an island whose legacies owe to its occupation by the most architecturally gifted cultures during 2500 years; whose plethora of ruins, relics and icons date to before Christ; whose churches and domes speak in grand arches and graceful curves, whose national art history glorifies the Fibonacci sequence and the Golden Mean, why has nothing in the last two hundred years been designed using anything but a box? The only modern man-made things that curve in Sicily are the roads and they don’t come close to a Golden Curve. It is a culture that uses something until it falls down and appears to never tear down. There is an ambience of permanence and strength in those old stone structures, even a degree of overall warmth in the cold stones that modern concrete just doesn’t exude.
In many places Sicily, benefiting from European Union Cultural and Economic grants, is spending million of dollars to reconstruct and rehabilitate both the relics and the walls and the old buildings. In the southern city of Siracuse, the old island section of town is almost a 100% under renovation—a massive project that leaves you wondering who will occupy these renovated but little modernized block after block of buildings. In the some of the ancient buildings the attention to archeology and true renovation is evident, but in the common buildings there is trouble keeping new plaster from falling off the stone cores. There seems to be a disconnect, in places, between the past and the present making you wonder whether the current time represents a comma, semicolon, colon or period in the course of history’s sentence. I doubt that it is a new paragraph and definitely not a new chapter.
Except for frenetic tourists, life appears relaxed and established. The countryside and coastlines are gorgeous with small, stone terraced farm parcels everywhere. It is heartening to see even in the most tourist dominated localities, like Taormina, these plots being maintained and used—they produce the fresh produce that is stacked on carts in every village and town. In the coastal towns, they sit next to carts full of the morning catch of eels, tuna, swordfish, squid, shrimp, octopus and local fish varieties that Sicilian cooks turn into feasts. In the big cities like Catania the market is daily, with carts, stands and elaborately designed trucks filling narrow streets and squares for blocks. In small towns the markets are twice a week and in the smallest only once. And it is there you find those Hogans. You have to look and sort through the piles because these are not brand conscious markets. And, Walla, precisely at one, it all disappears in what seems an instant. Of course bargaining becomes much better the closer to one you happen to be.
One puzzles at the economics of the east and southern regions. Tourism, of course, makes towns and villages appear vigorous. But there are marked differences and a good divide between the haves and have-nots. On the drive around the circumference of Etna the town of Lingualossa has charm and an old world feel. Miles on, the larger Randazzo is garbage strewn and reeks of under employed and frustrated youth.
Peak into an open doorway along a narrow alley/street of old stone buildings in any town and you will likely see small dark quarters with plain, sparse furnishing, an electrical outlet or two, but always a TV. It is difficult in the old quarters to differentiate between the “better neighborhoods” from the exterior, but peak over a wall and you may just see a gorgeous interior, bright and airy, with open space and gardens—always a garden. Like much of Europe, Sicilian culture may well disdain outward show of difference and success. Those of the younger generation like to show off a bit more than the older. Maybe Sicily may thrive with current interior decoration where it fails with modern exterior architecture.
Having walked through enough Duomos in the last three years to qualify for at least a free coffee while in line for heaven, we were surprised at how prominently churches and old public buildings feature in Sicily’s guide books but how few are open to the public. Have they nothing within? Is the benefit and attraction of the religion only skin deep? God seems to have closed this gob of his summer retreats for another season.
Sicily is still a rather unspoiled destination—unspoiled by Starbucks, McDonalds and Burger King. The older men (unfortunately those of our age) still dress in slacks and sport coats and caps to chat among themselves in the squares and over an espresso. . Tourist shopping areas are largely devoid of T-shirt shops and pure junk. You still find charming ones that sell local crafts and you can buy a double espresso for under a buck. (you need two after driving). Our new GPS was a key to marital bliss, although Isadora—the disembodied voice in that little box—did become quite confused on switch backs and in detours that took us left when she said “right”. We both swear that we heard her say, after a steady stream of “I’m recalculating” while ascending to our peak top hotel, “Oh s---, find it yourself”
Our penchant for early and late season travel helped make Sicily a much more enjoyable place. Spring in a pastoral setting is uplifting. I can’t imagine it with a full crush of tourists and buses vying for space on the tight mountain roads.
There is nothing quite like standing at the edge of the crater of Mt Etna with your feet at 100 degrees, your head freezing at 30 degrees less the wind chill of a 40 knot wind while looking down at the beaches of the coast lulling under a 70 degree sun. Nor is there anything more discouraging that peering over the edge of your toes while standing on your bathroom scale to discover that Sicilian dining to 11 pm each night over 8 days has added four pounds to your next New Year’s resolution.
Buy a good Guide Book and make sure to hire Luigi in Agrigento.
After a few days in Sicily you leave with the question “Why hasn’t Sicily produced a singe architect in 200 years?” and you have the answer to “Where do last year’s unsold $220 Hogan tennies and $150 Gucci leather belts wind up?”
On an island whose legacies owe to its occupation by the most architecturally gifted cultures during 2500 years; whose plethora of ruins, relics and icons date to before Christ; whose churches and domes speak in grand arches and graceful curves, whose national art history glorifies the Fibonacci sequence and the Golden Mean, why has nothing in the last two hundred years been designed using anything but a box? The only modern man-made things that curve in Sicily are the roads and they don’t come close to a Golden Curve. It is a culture that uses something until it falls down and appears to never tear down. There is an ambience of permanence and strength in those old stone structures, even a degree of overall warmth in the cold stones that modern concrete just doesn’t exude.
In many places Sicily, benefiting from European Union Cultural and Economic grants, is spending million of dollars to reconstruct and rehabilitate both the relics and the walls and the old buildings. In the southern city of Siracuse, the old island section of town is almost a 100% under renovation—a massive project that leaves you wondering who will occupy these renovated but little modernized block after block of buildings. In the some of the ancient buildings the attention to archeology and true renovation is evident, but in the common buildings there is trouble keeping new plaster from falling off the stone cores. There seems to be a disconnect, in places, between the past and the present making you wonder whether the current time represents a comma, semicolon, colon or period in the course of history’s sentence. I doubt that it is a new paragraph and definitely not a new chapter.
Except for frenetic tourists, life appears relaxed and established. The countryside and coastlines are gorgeous with small, stone terraced farm parcels everywhere. It is heartening to see even in the most tourist dominated localities, like Taormina, these plots being maintained and used—they produce the fresh produce that is stacked on carts in every village and town. In the coastal towns, they sit next to carts full of the morning catch of eels, tuna, swordfish, squid, shrimp, octopus and local fish varieties that Sicilian cooks turn into feasts. In the big cities like Catania the market is daily, with carts, stands and elaborately designed trucks filling narrow streets and squares for blocks. In small towns the markets are twice a week and in the smallest only once. And it is there you find those Hogans. You have to look and sort through the piles because these are not brand conscious markets. And, Walla, precisely at one, it all disappears in what seems an instant. Of course bargaining becomes much better the closer to one you happen to be.
One puzzles at the economics of the east and southern regions. Tourism, of course, makes towns and villages appear vigorous. But there are marked differences and a good divide between the haves and have-nots. On the drive around the circumference of Etna the town of Lingualossa has charm and an old world feel. Miles on, the larger Randazzo is garbage strewn and reeks of under employed and frustrated youth.
Peak into an open doorway along a narrow alley/street of old stone buildings in any town and you will likely see small dark quarters with plain, sparse furnishing, an electrical outlet or two, but always a TV. It is difficult in the old quarters to differentiate between the “better neighborhoods” from the exterior, but peak over a wall and you may just see a gorgeous interior, bright and airy, with open space and gardens—always a garden. Like much of Europe, Sicilian culture may well disdain outward show of difference and success. Those of the younger generation like to show off a bit more than the older. Maybe Sicily may thrive with current interior decoration where it fails with modern exterior architecture.
Having walked through enough Duomos in the last three years to qualify for at least a free coffee while in line for heaven, we were surprised at how prominently churches and old public buildings feature in Sicily’s guide books but how few are open to the public. Have they nothing within? Is the benefit and attraction of the religion only skin deep? God seems to have closed this gob of his summer retreats for another season.
Sicily is still a rather unspoiled destination—unspoiled by Starbucks, McDonalds and Burger King. The older men (unfortunately those of our age) still dress in slacks and sport coats and caps to chat among themselves in the squares and over an espresso. . Tourist shopping areas are largely devoid of T-shirt shops and pure junk. You still find charming ones that sell local crafts and you can buy a double espresso for under a buck. (you need two after driving). Our new GPS was a key to marital bliss, although Isadora—the disembodied voice in that little box—did become quite confused on switch backs and in detours that took us left when she said “right”. We both swear that we heard her say, after a steady stream of “I’m recalculating” while ascending to our peak top hotel, “Oh s---, find it yourself”
Our penchant for early and late season travel helped make Sicily a much more enjoyable place. Spring in a pastoral setting is uplifting. I can’t imagine it with a full crush of tourists and buses vying for space on the tight mountain roads.
There is nothing quite like standing at the edge of the crater of Mt Etna with your feet at 100 degrees, your head freezing at 30 degrees less the wind chill of a 40 knot wind while looking down at the beaches of the coast lulling under a 70 degree sun. Nor is there anything more discouraging that peering over the edge of your toes while standing on your bathroom scale to discover that Sicilian dining to 11 pm each night over 8 days has added four pounds to your next New Year’s resolution.
Buy a good Guide Book and make sure to hire Luigi in Agrigento.
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