I am happily retired. As a career I found myself in the business end of education. Spent most of my working life researching, developing and implementing a broad spectrum of local, state and national education programs. Other than some travel, my focus now is Il Volo and the Flight Crew. How lucky am I to have found such joy? I'm having the time of my life!
Oh, and I'll be a vegetarian when bacon grows on trees.
Ciao a tutti! I challenged Marie to come out of semi-retirement and write something for us. I figured she was getting bored looking at palm trees, sunshine and sandy beaches! This is what she quipped… 🙂 Jana
Something’s Wrong With Me ~ Marie Crider
With the world in a sad and humbled state right now I thought you might like a little something on the lighter side:
~I just listened to an hour interview. It was all in Italian. I don’t understand Italian.
~I can’t lay in the sun without humming “O Sole Mio.”
~I go to concerts with a camera on my lap, but I’m afraid to use it in case I miss something.
~When in the front row at a concert and a security guy walks in front of me I want to shout, “How dare you come between me and THEM!?” What does he think I might do, jump up on the stage? Ok…I might jump on the stage, but I’ve got Leelee, my concert buddy, holding me down. Oh, I could get past security anyway. He doesn’t have a club big enough to pry me off Ignazio’s leg.
~All Il Volo CDs in my car are copies of the originals. Just in case someone should steal my car.
~When St. Mark’s Basilica started flooding, I panicked. I wanted to book a flight, grab a bucket and go.
~Piero neglected to ask me if he could change the color of his glasses. (I may never get over that one.)
~The only pictures on my dresser are my Mom, my Dad and Gianluca.
~I have a strong urge to confess to the murder of someone named Delilah. Just to keep the heat off the Boys.
~I want to stand on a balcony in Italy and sing my heart out. It wouldn’t matter that I can’t leave my hotel room…the air is Italian and that’s good enough for me.
~I have 17 Il Volo t-shirts (actually 16 plus one nightshirt thanks to Jana) but I can’t wear them. Cause…well, what if one should get a stain on it… or fade…or get lost with luggage at an airport…or destroyed by a rabid dog…or snagged on a barbed wire fence? Makes me sick thinking about the horrible things that could possibly happen to one of them.
~I have “Il Volo” tattooed on my left ankle and an “Il Volo” license plate on my car.
Yep, something is definitely wrong with me. I may need professional help.
Grazie Mille, Marie, for sharing your thoughts with us and coming out of semi-retirement! I’m sure we all feel the same in many ways! But, just one question, why is Gianluca on your dresser and not Ignazio?? 🙂
Well, America now has a real live Duchess. What a beautiful wedding! What outstanding hats! Besides the dress (!) and that Tiara (also a !) was some magnificent music the last number, performed by Cellist Sheku Kanneth-Mason and the orchestra, was “Ave Maria.” That, of course, reminded me of when our Guys sang the hymn in 2014 at the Senate Christmas Concert. Remember? We wish Harry and Meghan (The Duke and Duchess of Sussex) lots of love and laughter. We wish our Guys the same. Here is what I was dreaming during that hymn…
How about an even more recent Ave Maria? “Ave Maria, Mater Misericordiae”…Appropriately performed at the London Royal Albert Hall on May 23, 2017.
Since the first days of language, humans have been passing on stories. From the sea shanties of Cornwall to the shadow puppetry of China, from the creation tales of Hula dancing to the drama of Caribbean calypso. Sicily is no different: its puppetry, dating back to Medieval times, is famous the world over for telling tales of knights in battle. But there’s another story too, the tradition of cuntu, dating back to Greek theatre and based on both sung verse and spoken prose. To discover its compelling history we have to go back to the ancient world.
Many modern cultures and languages can trace their origins to ancient ancestors, typically reaching back across decades, centuries and even millennia. European languages from Spanish to Portuguese, Romanian to English, for example, all owe a large debt of gratitude to the ancient Romans. Vulgar Latin forms the basis for several languages spoken by a sizeable proportion of the world’s population, not least of course Italians inhabiting the beautiful Mediterranean peninsula and beyond.
Within some circles there is even a view that Sicilian, rather than being simply another dialect of Italian, was actually the first to have developed from ancient Latin. And certainly there are persuasive similarities that seem to suggest that words in use today evolved from Latin through Sicilian to the Tuscan that would go on to become the national language.
But whilst the language of this spectacular island obviously springs from ancient Roman roots, it also draws considerably upon the tongues of the many people who came as occupiers and conquerors, namely the Carthaginians, Arabs, French, Spanish and, most notably, the ancient Greeks.
Evidence of the Hellenic Republic’s presence percolates throughout the island. From the sublime Doric temple filled landscape of southern Sicily, to the ancient theatre in Taormina on the eastern coast. Add in the language of poets and an alphabet that persisted through to the Middle Ages and it’ s easy to see how the Greek love of language and theatre evolved into the islanders’ unique storytelling tradition of cuntu.
The word cuntu is, simply enough, defined as an account, statement or novella. For locals its true cultural meaning, however, goes much deeper, conjuring up thoughts of fables, fairy tales and fantastic anecdotes of chivalrous adventure. Sometimes puppets are used – they’re a significant part of Sicilian folklore – but for the most part cuntu is the ageless, almost extinct art of spoken word street storytelling.
Long before the age of cinema, television and social media, Sicilian cuntisti made their livelihoods breathing life into epic tales for the amusement of their audiences. But unlike classic theatre that demands a platform, stage or playhouse to host its sagas, cuntu and cuntisti need little more than a street corner, park or town square to accommodate their stories. The staging needs no painted scenery, no costumes, no smoke or mirrors and no props, because cuntu storytellers conjure everything in the minds of the audience with the pure and humble power of the spoken word.
Before they could weave their words, worlds and warriors into epic tales Sicilian cuntisti would study the art form as apprentices. Skills were passed down from father to son, specialist to student, often over the course of a youngster’s childhood or early teens, before they made their debut as adults. Pupils didn’t just need to learn the stories however, they needed to learn the art of delivery to convey every emotion from envy to desire, from betrayal to lust. They needed to learn the parts and the characters, the twists and turns they were to take and the nuances necessary to breathe life into each one, opening a window into another world.
Cuntisti, crucially, also needed to learn to “feel” the breath of their characters, as well as that of their audience. They told tales whilst others listened with baited breath. They used pauses and inhalations to inspire gasps and gulps, as they put flesh and bone to their characters. And they employed spoken words to develop a rhythm, driving the pace to simultaneously create a personal and collective vision.
It’s storytelling at its best. And what stories they told.
Classic cuntu accounts often drew on tales of saints, soldiers and bandits, especially the stories of the Paladins of France. Sometimes known as the 12 peers, the paladins were warriors of Charlemagne’s Dark Age court representing Christian valor against Saracen hoards. And although their exploits were the largely fictional creations of imaginative 8th century writers, they drew together elements of several theatrical and literary traditions to create chivalrous heroes and romantic leads that still play out in modern culture today.
Cuntisti would tell of Orlando, Charlemagne’s nephew and chief hero amongst the paladins. Or recount the exploits of Oliver, Orlando’s rival. They breathed life into Ganelon, the traitor who would later appear in Dante Alighieri’s Inferno. And each of the twelve men inspired stories of gallant skirmishes and victorious romance that still resonate today.
For the ordinary populace, the arrival of the cuntisti on the streets of their town was a special event. Cuntu kept legends alive, inspiring generation after generation with suspense, battle and redemption. And they were as important to Sicilian culture as Shakespeare was to the British and Dante was to Florentines.
Today, modern cuntu adaptations are reworking ancient stories weaving contemporary living material into Greek and Saracen legends to revive this almost extinct art form. Storytellers such as Alessio Di Modica, Enzo Mancuso and Mimmo Cuticchio have reinvigorated this noble art through the improvisation of daily tales. And now, this ancient yet modern talent is reaching a new audience via the virtual streets and piazze of YouTube and social media.
So as the days shorten, the nights draw in and thoughts turn to TV box sets or binge watching the latest Netflix series, remember there is another choice. The cuntisti of Sicily now stand on every street corner of the world via the wonder of the internet, and they have a long tradition of story-telling that will fascinate and entertain just as it has for centuries. The story starts as it always has, with the words that every child recognizes: c’era una volta….once upon a time.