Don’t know much about the classics that we heard,
But I loved the mix of orchestra and choir.
Concerto al Teatro Nuovo
03 Tuesday Apr 2018
Posted in Art
Monthly Archives: April 2018
The Game of Painting
02 Monday Apr 2018
Posted in Art
A collection of painted papers: as conceived by Paola Masino
And executed, apparently, by every artist under the Italian sun
With her persistence, it seems, over the course of four decades.
Six Trips, Finally, and I’m Speechless in the Making.
02 Monday Apr 2018
Posted in Art
On Easter, Our Progress Around Town
01 Sunday Apr 2018
Posted in Travel
I.
Sleeping late, then writing and painting, as we wait for the rain to come to an end.
II.
Heading out, after some hemming and hawing, to make reservations at Osteria del Trivio.
III.
Walking down, our options fully weighed, to catch the moving staircase to the top.
IV.
Perched high above the town with all its stone, La Rocca is a mighty fortress still.
V.
On the circled path, we walk the whole way round accompanied by the caprice of weather.
VI.
Headed down, we take the street that leads the crowd beside La Piazza del Duomo.
VII.
Once we are sure there’s nothing going on, we step inside the church to sit a spell.
VIII.
Then back out the way we came, down the steps to the right, beside a favored park.
IX.
Wending our way, past apartments we will only buy in the fever of unbridled imagination.
X.
Stopped short by tomorrow’s date on the Exhibit poster, we double-check the itinerary.
XI.
Turning this way and that, without discussion or map, until we pass SS. Giovanni e Paolo.
XII.
From the corner of our eyes, we spot the patient clerk from the fine arts supply store.
XIII.
Glance inside La Ciocolateria, wondering if Grazia has to work at all on Easter Sunday.
XIV.
A final hitch in our giddy up: five, maybe six, flights of stairs (depending on who’s counting).
This Time of Year, This Trip, A Photo Op is Done
01 Sunday Apr 2018
Posted in Art
Thou mayst behold that fewer leaves do hang
Upon the boughs still shaking against the cold.
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- Bare ruin’d choirs, where soon the birds will sing
Toward San Pietro, the twilight of such a day
Before trees blossom and their leaves return.
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- Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest
“Banned in Boston”
01 Sunday Apr 2018
Posted in Travel
Just when I thought I had solved the technology of NCAA coverage by clicking here for CBS Sports, the Internet Border Control informed me last night that certain precious content is not allowed to cross international waters. Argggh!
“The Usual”
01 Sunday Apr 2018
Posted in Food
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- Un cappuccino e un cornetto
The Reunion (a work in progress)
01 Sunday Apr 2018
Posted in Education
Act I, scene 1: The setup
The night of the parents meeting on “The New Math,” back in the mid-60s, the guinea pigs stayed home: uninvited. So I cannot recall the dialogue verbatim. Yet the way my father always retold the tale, one remarkable line stood out: “If you’re planning to help your children with their homework, then start studying from Day 1. Otherwise, you’re toast….”
Now, I couldn’t actually swear to it. Yet I seem to have a vague recollection that the approach to our French Instruction in Junior High had a similar pedigree: with a fancy name and a distinct history that set it apart from old-school ways. (With a bit of research, I should be able to fill in the _____________ here.
Already, the term “Audio-Lingual” seems to be making its way from off-site storage into my central processing unit. Before I plug it into a Google search, though, one thing is certain: I can remember the dialogue from “The Library Trip” as if it were yesterday.)
Jean: Dis donc, ou est la bibliotheque?
Paul: C’est tout droit. Tu y vas tout suite?
Jean: Oui, il faut que j’aille chercher un livre.
Paul: J’y vais aussi.
Further research, no doubt, will cast the method in a favorable or unflattering light. Yet for now, as we approach La Cioccolateria desiring to greet Grazia with a warmth sufficient to our continuously developing affection, I dearly wish that my Italian textbook had a “Reunion” Scene with enough lines, sufficiently memorable, to surf the shoals of unwanted silence.