August 5, 2012

An Interview with Documentary Filmmaker Ivana Corsale

By Olivia Kate Cerrone

One of the most heartbreaking problems facing Italy today is the ongoing reality of toxic waste dumping in populated areas and farmland. The Neapolitan areas of Marigliano, Acerra and Nola have become known as Italy’s “Triangle of Death,” a phrase coined by Dr. Alfredo Mazza, from his groundbreaking research published in The Lancet Oncology, a British cancer journal. Even the popular film Gomorrah, which contained scenes of the notorious Camorra burying barrels of toxic waste underground in Naples, gave the issue special mainstream public attention. A recent article published in the UK’s Independent remarked that “Dr. Mazza stated how over ‘two hundred and fifty thousand people in the region have been exposed to toxic pollutants for decades.’” Even more tragic is the fact that many of those who develop cancer or other related illnesses to exposure are often in their early twenties and thirties. Continued public awareness is the key to fostering real social change. Sicilian-born filmmaker, Ivana Corsale has taken on this complicated subject matter in her new documentary, Campania In-Felix (Unhappy Country), which focuses on the lives of those living in the “Triangle of Death.” The film is currently being shown throughout the United States and Italy, and has most recently screened at the Colorado Environmental Film Festival, the Thin Line Film Fest, and the Santa Fe Independent Film Festival. Corsale has received numerous awards for her work, including the Puffin Foundation Grant, the Carole Fielding Grant from the University of Film & Video Association, and fiscal sponsorship by the International Documentary Association. Born and raised in Sciacca, Sicily, Corsale moved to the United States, where she earned an undergraduate degree in journalism and international studies from Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Texas. She has worked as a journalist at The Dallas Morning News where she further explored her storytelling skills through video. At The News, she researched, shot and edited stories for the newspaper’s website. As a graduate student in documentary studies at The University of North Texas, Corsale produced, directed and edited Cutting History, a short documentary about one of the oldest barbershops in the city of Denton. Ivana’s second film, another short documentary called Beyond The Notes, explored the lives and struggles of musicians. Campania In-Felix is Corsale’s first feature length film.

Olivia Kate Cerrone: What inspired you to make the film Campania In-Felix? With so many pressing concerns facing Italy right now, such as the struggling economy and severe lack of jobs, why do you believe that the “Triangle of Death” environmental catastrophe is deserving of an international spotlight?

Ivana Corsale: I was feeling the urge of documenting a contemporary issue in Italy. Living outside of my home country for more than a decade, I have seen Italy affected by several problems and I’ve also observed a general decline of social and cultural values. A few years ago, I was reading Gomorrah by Roberto Saviano. The last chapter of the book, titled “The Land of Fires,” offered an account of the illegal dumping of toxic waste, how organized crime was involved and also how the presence of toxic waste in Campania was affecting people’s health and their environment. I thought it was an important issue to explore and present to an American audience because it touched on so many aspects beyond the obvious environmental problem. I thought it was important to reveal the strong bond tying the people from the region with their land, and how this attachment with the land is now completely disrupted. Several documentaries had been done on this issue, but I didn’t see anything that touched on the cultural, social and economic aspects of this environmental issue. So, after looking at all of the viable topics to explore, I quickly realized that this was fertile ground for a documentary that could make viewers think about the important bond that exists between people and their land. 

OKC: Your documentary offers powerful footage of the Camorra’s various dumping sites throughout this region, as well as interviews with residents, land workers, physicians and activists, who have all been negatively affected by the toxicity of the area. Their experiences lead one to surmise that the Italian government hasn’t taken these issues seriously enough. For instance, Dr. Antonio Marfella, an oncologist from the area, revealed that while the local government did intervene to save dying livestock through various testing, there is still no report of the government taking any action in monitoring the effects had upon those human beings that worked alongside the animals. Furthermore, one of the film’s most chilling moments brought viewers to the site of a collection of manmade quarries (the largest in Europe) containing poisoned groundwater that feeds into wells and springs, contaminating the region’s local drinking supply. What do you believe to be is the cause of the Italian government’s hesitancy to address this urgent environmental health crisis? 
IC: There have been speculations (often elaborated by investigative journalists in Italy) of links and collusions existing between the Italian government and organized crime. This may suggest how and why the government is not taking any action to solve the problem. Another point to be made is that during the Berlusconi’s government, the direction on environmental and waste issues was often to build incinerators rather than to implement recycling programs. I personally tend to believe that the involvement of politics involved in organized crime is at such a high stake that it’s not in the best interest of the government to take any legal action into the Campania region. 

OKC: One of the more heartbreaking segments of Campania In-Felix is the story of the Cannavacciuolo family, whose livelihood as shepherds (once spanning many generations) has been destroyed by the continual poisoning of both their land and sheep in Acerra, along with the loss of a relative, Vincenzo Cannavacciuolo, to cancer. Their story revealed that since 1986, Montefibre, a chemical factory owned and operated by the Pellini family, dumped approximately 56,000 barrels of toxic waste in farmland areas, as well as dumping waste into local canals and construction materials containing asbestos under bridges and alongside roads. Have any charges been brought up against the Pellini family or revealed an ongoing association with the Camorra? If not, why?
IC: Just a correction: Montefibre was not owned by the Pellini family. The Pellinis own a waste facility that used to dump toxic substances into water streams and farm land near Acerra. There is currently a class action lawsuit between the Cannavacciuolos and the Pellinis. The trial started in 2006 and as of today it has not reached a final verdict. The charge is for illegal trafficking and disposal of toxic waste. Unfortunately, the justice system in Italy works very slow, especially for cases and trials involving organized crime activity. 
A federally funded waste incinerator stands adjacent to Mario Cannavacciuolo's abandoned land outside Acerra, Italy. The Cannavacciuolo family has been destroyed by illegal toxic waste disposal as his flock of sheep, of about 3000, died due to dioxin contamination. His brother, Enzo Cannavacciuolo, died shortly after, and tests show his body contained levels of dioxin, purins, and PCBs 30 times the amount allowed by the World Health Organization. (Photo by Matt Nager/Courtesy of unhappycountry.com)
OKC: In an interview with Joe Brown of the Colorado Environmental Film Festival, you remarked that “a social reawakening should occur in Southern Italy. The people who are most affected by the dumping appear somewhat resigned and think that no possible and rational solution can occur at the moment….in order to create change, there should be a solid and unified movement among activist groups. Right now, the few activists in the area appear isolated in their action.” Why is there a lack of solidarity among these activists when so much continues to be at stake for the land and its people? What could be done within Italy and perhaps among Italian American communities in the States that could help raise awareness or support to help solidify these activist groups? 
IC: It’s difficult for me to say why there is such a lack of solidarity among these activists. From what I observed, I could see that the few activist groups who were still fighting for the rights of their land had some reservation of hope for the future. Other activists, who were more involved years before, appeared more resigned and seemed convinced that there was no hope for the future generations or for the land. They had fought before and saw no clear resolution or involvement from the government. As a result, they had lost any hope that they may have had before. I think it’s important to restore a sense of hope among people in Italy. Unfortunately, I have seen symptoms of hopelessness among Italians in general, who cannot trust their political and social organizations anymore. There seems to be a lack of trust toward these institutions and, as a consequence, a loss of values among several levels of society in general. I think Italian-American communities can and should find a bridge of communication with Italian communities in Italy and rediscover and explore the country that is today. I often find that Italian-American communities in the United States are not in tune with the Italy of today. I think that it’s important to restore a sense of cultural awareness, understand and explore the issues that Italy faces today. This can be done through cultural, social events, discussions that connect old and new generations of Italian-Americans. Knowledge and awareness are the first steps that can lead to action. 
A burned out car and piles of illegally disposed computers, trash, and toxic chemicals lie abandoned next to farm land near Marigliano, Italy. While organized crime can be blamed for much of the illegal toxic waste dumping from Northern Italian companies, local citizens have, as well, become accustomed to illegal dumping of waste leading to further contamination of the countryside. (Photo by Matt Nager/Courtesy of unhappycountry.com)
OKC: Is it possible in the Italian legal system that a class action suit could be filed among those residents affected by the toxicity against their local government for not taking proper measures to protect their citizens against the illegal waste dumping and allowing many of the sites to remain for years without properly cleaning them up? If this is not possible, why not? Are there any legal measures that Italians could take to bring justice to the countless thousands who have been affected and/or lost loved ones? 
IC:  I think a class action suit is possible, but because the Italian justice system moves so slow, I am not sure what the results may be. Because of the possible collusion between the government and organized crime, I also fear that the justice system may easily be obstructed in the course of a lawsuit. I think the only possible way to bring justice is to unify all the activist groups, all levels of society and have them lead a profound protest/revolutionary movement that will not end until the government will take action. I think a profound social and civil reawakening has to occur in order for millions of people to lead such a movement. 

OKC: Since the release of Campania In-Felix, has anything further been done by the local governments of the “Triangle of Death” region, such as instating new recycling programs or cleaning up of any new waste sites?
IC: No real means of action has been taken locally in order to solve the problem. Some local governments have implemented recycling programs that sometimes work and other times are not very efficient. Summertime is usually the worst season when piles of trash tend to accumulate more, and incinerating garbage and waste becomes the norm in the countryside. 

OKC: Campania In-Felix is currently on tour to various film festivals around the United States. How has the film been received so far?
IC:  The film has been received with success and interest here in the United States. People often ask how and why the Italian government hasn’t done anything to solve the problem. The aspect that viewers always remember is how profound the relationship between people and land is. I think that’s the message they are left with after they watch this film. And that’s exactly what I want people to remember. I want them to reflect on that important relationship between us and the place we live in, and how that relationship can be present (and it is present) in other parts of the world. 

OKC: Do you have any new film projects underway or future topics you would like to focus on as a director? Do you hope to continue raising awareness about the “Triangle of Death” catastrophe or other Italian social issues?
IC: I think today’s Italy is fertile ground for new documentaries and stories that are deserving attention. I would like to now focus less on environmental issues and more on social and economic issues, which are the current topic of discussion in Italy right now. I’m always interested in the idea of raising awareness about this current environmental issues in Italy. I don’t think many people are aware of the complexities of the issue and I believe the first place to start raising awareness and discussion is in schools among students and professors. 

OKC:  Thank you so much for taking the time to share with us your experiences. Any last thoughts?

IC: What I want people to remember after watching this film is that Campania In-Felix is not just a story about environmental injustice. I believe that it's a reminder of how we are connected to the land, and the place we live in. I want viewers to look at this film and issue and realize that what's happening in Campania, this broken balance between people and their land, can occur anywhere else. 


You can contact Ivana Corsale at: ivana.corsale@gmail.com
or visit her at unhappycountry.com

You can contact Olivia Kate Cerrone at: Olivia.Cerrone@gmail.com
or visit her at oliviacerrone.com

August 1, 2012

New Books

Some forthcoming titles that may be of interest to our readers. All are available for pre-order at Amazon.com

• "Armchair Traveller's History of Apulia" by Desmond Seward

Publisher: Haus Publishing 
Publication Date: September 10, 2012
Hardback: $13.38
Language: English
Pages: 300


• "Van Dyck in Sicily: 1624-1625 Painting and the Plague" by Xavier F. Salomon

Publisher: Silvana Editoriale 
Publication Date: September 30, 2012
Paperback: $29.48
Language: English
Pages: 120


• "Language and Linguistic Contact in Ancient Sicily" by Olga Tribulato

Publisher: Cambridge University Press 
Publication Date: December 31, 2012
Hardback: $101.54
Language: English
Pages: 432

July 27, 2012

The Orpheus of Apulia: Guitar Virtuoso and Composer Mauro Giuliani

Mauro Giuliani
By Giovanni di Napoli
"Then Herr Mauro Giuliani, a Neapolitan, came to us—a man who had been led early in the right direction through correct sense of harmony, and who, as an accomplished virtuoso, combined with the most correct performance the greatest perfection of technique and of taste...Through his teaching and the competition he has aroused among teachers and lovers of the instrument, he has formed for us so many outstanding amateurs, that there could scarcely be another place where authentic guitar-playing is so widely practiced as here in our Vienna." —Excerpt from the preface to a guitar method published c.1811/12, entitled Versuch einer vollständigen methodischen Antleitung zum Guitare-Spielen by Simon Molitor and Wilhelm Klingenbrunner (1)
Southern Italy has a long history with the guitar, dating as far back as the Spanish viceroyalty. In fact, the earliest extant six-string guitar was built by the Neapolitan luthier Gaetano Vinaccia in 1779. The prestigious Gagliano, Fabricatore and Vinaccia families are credited with several innovations for the instrument and throughout the nineteenth century Naples remained a major center for its production. (2) It is also no coincidence that some of the most celebrated early classical guitarists—most notably the great Federico Moretti (1760-1838) and Ferdinando Carulli (1770-1841)—hailed from the Regno

However, when talking about the history of classical guitar in Southern Italy it is impossible not to mention Mauro Giuliani. For this we can thank music historian Thomas F. Heck and his major contributions to the field. This author's brief biographical sketch is completely indebted to Mr. Heck's illuminating Mauro Giuliani: Virtuoso Guitarist and Composer (Editions Orphée Inc., 1995) — the definitive work on Giuliani and a must-read for any serious student of the history of classical guitar.

Little is known about Mauro Giuliani's early life. He was born on July 27, 1781 in Bisceglie, a small fishing village along the Adriatic coast in Apulia. His father, Michele, moved the family to nearby Barletta, where Mauro and his older brother, Nicholas received music instruction at the Teatro San Ferdinando. Around 1800 Nicholas travelled to St. Petersburg with wealthy patrons returning to Russia from a pilgrimage to the shrine of Saint Nicholas in Bari. Nicholas served as a voice instructor in the Russian capital until his death (c. 1850). Mauro studied the cello, counterpoint and the six-string guitar, a relatively new instrument for which he had a special affinity. 

Mandolin (maple, spruce, tortoiseshell,
ivory), made by Vincenzo Vinaccia
(active 1769-1785), Naples, 1777
At the age of 16 Mauro composed a mass, which according to his first biographer Filippo Isnardi "did him much honor." (3) He may have taken additional schooling at one of the prestigious music conservatories in Naples. Giuliani married a local Barlettana girl, Donna Maria Giuseppa del Monaco, and on May 17, 1801 they had a son, Michel, who would become a noted professeur de chant at the Conservatoire de Paris.

Sometime between 1801 and 1803 the young musician moved north to Trieste, presumably with his family (its possible they arrived at a later date). Generally, there are two schools of thought as to why they moved: The first was to escape the chaos caused by Napoleon's invasion of the Kingdom of Naples in 1799 and the second was the lack of opportunities to earn a living as a guitarist in a kingdom obsessed with opera. While both scenarios seam plausible, it was most likely a combination of the two—plus the limited number of publishing houses south of the Alps—that caused an exodus of guitarists from the kingdom.

In 1806 Giuliani took leave of his family and sought his fortune in Vienna, quickly acquiring a reputation as a remarkable composer and musician. He soon took on a mistress and in 1807 his illegitimate daughter, Maria Willmurth, was born. Its unclear if Giuliani was unfaithful to his wife or not, there are no records of her after Michel's birth, but we do know that he supported his daughter, even providing for her dowry.

Nineteenth-century Imperial Vienna was a thriving musical center where musicians throughout the empire and beyond flocked to meet its musical demands. Receiving rave reviews from enthusiastic audiences, Giuliani established himself among the city's musical elite, which included such impressive luminaries as Johann Nepomuk Hummel and Ludwig van Beethoven. He taught, performed and published numerous compositions, making him the premier guitarist in Vienna.

In 1808, at a time when the guitar was considered only suitable for song accompaniment, Giuliani had the audacity to premiere a three-movement concerto for guitar with full orchestra. While admitting that Giuliani was "perhaps the greatest guitarist who has ever lived" one critic from the influential music journal Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung could not grasp the guitar's evolving role as a solo instrument. According to the reporter, "One absolutely has to have heard the musician himself in order to get an idea of his unusual skill and his precise, tasteful execution," then backtracking, "We must put the guitar back in its place—let it stick to accompaniment—and we will always be happy to hear it." (4) The critic would go on and admonish the audience, claiming their excitement could only be explained as a fad. 

Giuliani's third child, a daughter named Emilia, was born in Vienna in 1813. It is open to question who the mother was: Maria Giuseppa, Fräulein Willmurth or an unknown third woman? Whoever she was, they must have been married because the child bore his last name. Emilia would become famous in her own right as a guitar virtuoso, composing the famous set of preludes for guitar op.46.

On December 8, 1813 Giuliani played the cello at the première of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony. 

His genius eventually caught the attention of Napoleon's second wife Empress Marie-Louise (later Duchess of Parma), who in 1814 bestowed on him the rank of "Honorary Chamber Virtuoso." According to Isnardi, the Empress also gave the composer/guitarist her own lyre-guitar, a magnificent instrument that combined the body of the lyre with the neck of a guitar. 

In 1819 Giuliani joined Ludlams-Gesellschaft, a secret society founded by the city's artists and musicians. The Ludlamshöhle, as they were more commonly known, were more like a freewheeling fraternity than a subversive organization. As part of their affiliation members were given humorous nicknames—Giuliani was called Vilac Umo Capo d'astro. The capo d'astro part of his moniker clearly stems from his use of a little clamp on the neck of his guitar, but the Vilac Umo portion is less obvious. Some hypothesize that it’s a corruption of vigliacchi uomo, which in Italian means cowardly or dastardly man, a term of abuse Giuliani had a penchant of murmuring whenever he met someone he did not like.

Struggling to pay his debts (and possibly for health reasons), Giuliani returned to Italy. After visiting his parents in Trieste for almost three months he continued south towards Rome, taking a few detours along the way, including a short stay at Parma in order to pay his respects to his patroness Marie-Louise. In Rome, Giuliani continued publishing his works for the guitar and may have performed in concert with Rossini and Paganini. However, unable to firmly establish himself in the Eternal City he would try his luck in his homeland.

With its rich musical history and numerous theaters and salons, Naples vied with Vienna and Paris for the right to call itself Europe's music capital. Despite its importance in the production and development of the instrument, the quality of guitarists residing in Naples at the time inexplicably declined. In this favorable climate Giuliani had no trouble asserting his primacy.

Settling in the southern capital in 1823, Giuliani performed regularly for the Neapolitan nobility, quickly making a name for himself with his brilliant performances on the lyre-guitar. In 1824 his daughters, Maria and Emilia, were invited to stay with Marie-Louise, who was visiting relatives in Palermo. The Duchess was, after all, the daughter of Maria Theresa of Naples and Sicily.  

In 1826 Giuliani had the great privilege of performing for King Francis I himself at the Palazzo Reale in Portici. Two years later, in what must have been a truly gratifying moment, he gave a concert with his daughter Emilia, who was only a teenager at the time. The performance was a great success, thus giving Emilia a promising start to her burgeoning career. Unfortunately, illness would keep Giuliani from performing with his daughter at her next recital. 

Mauro Giuliani died in Naples on May 8, 1829; he was only 47-years-old. Highly prolific, he published over 200 compositions for the guitar. His extensive repertoire and inspirational performances, as well as the accomplishments of his many students, were undoubtedly a major factor in the future acceptance of the guitar as a solo instrument. 

Giuliani was the most important guitarist of his time. His fame would live on long after his death:
"In his hands, the guitar became gifted with a power of expression at once pure, thrilling, and exquisite . . . In a word, he made the instrument sing." —Excerpt from Mauro Giuliani's eulogy printed in 1833 in Giulianiad, a guitar magazine named in his honor. (5)
To this day his work remains popular among classical guitarists and admirers of the genre alike.

The following source proved invaluable to this post:
Mauro Giuliani: Virtuoso Guitarist and Composer by Thomas F. Heck, Editions Orphée Inc., 1995

Notes:
(1) Quoted from Mauro Giuliani: Virtuoso Guitarist and Composer by Thomas F. Heck, p. 32
(2) For more on the origins of the six-string guitar see "Stalking the Oldest Six-String Guitar" by Thomas F. Heck, 1972
(3) Quoted from Mauro Giuliani: Virtuoso Guitarist and Composer by Thomas F. Heck, p. 7
(4) Quoted from Mauro Giuliani: Virtuoso Guitarist and Composer by Thomas F. Heck, p. 39-40
(5) Quoted from Mauro Giuliani: Virtuoso Guitarist and Composer by Thomas F. Heck, p. 134

July 17, 2012

A Look at the 109th Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel in Rosebank, Staten Island

Our Lady of Mount Carmel Grotto
(Photos by New York Scugnizzo)
By Giovanni di Napoli

I finally made my pilgrimage to The Our Lady of Mount Carmel Grotto in Rosebank, Staten Island over the weekend and what better time to do so than during the 109th annual Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

Visiting for the first time, one cannot help but notice the narrow meandering streets of the neighborhood, but the directions are straightforward and simple and I reached my destination without difficulty.

The grotto stands in a shaded lot outside the Society of Mount Carmel's community hall on Amity Street. As you enter through the gate and stroll down the red-bricked lane one is immediately moved by the spiritual significance of the shrine. Places such as this were constructed throughout Europe from time immemorial for the purpose of prayer and reflection. 
Examples of grottoes in New York City and Southern Italy: (L-R) Shrine Church of St. Bernadette in Dyker Heights, Brooklyn; Most Precious Blood Church in Manhattan's Little Italy; and near the promenade in Minori, Campania
Illuminated with votive candles and festive lights, the elaborately decorated structure (made with bricks, cement and stones) looks almost dreamlike. Positioned prominently in the central chapel sits the statue of the Madonna del Carmine. She is flanked by a host of saints housed in the winding grotto's many nooks and crevices. Many of the saints, which have been donated over the years by people unwilling to throw away their weathered or damaged statues, have been restored to their former glory. It is a testament to the hard work and devotion of the society.
Ave Maria!
The Madonna del Carmine in the principal chapel
The annual eight-day celebration in honor of the Madonna culminates with a procession on July 16th from the grotto to Saint Joseph's Church on 171 St Mary's Avenue for a special Mass. Visitors were treated to live entertainment and games. The usual assortment of delicious Southern Italian fare (sausage and peppers, calzone, zeppole, etc.) was available. 

For me, what makes this Feast different from all the others is the venue. The society's large shaded yard, picnic tables and lawn chairs gave the affair a more intimate atmosphere; it almost felt like a large family reunion in the park. I found myself frequently returning to the grotto, marveling over the amazing stonework and discovering something new each time. I especially enjoyed listening to the older generation share their experiences and point out their favorite parts of the monument.
Saint Barbara stands sentinel outside main chapel
The guiding light behind the construction of the grotto was Vito Russo, the society's second president. Born on November 6, 1885 in Sala Consilina a small town in the province of Salerno, Vito and his younger brother Giovanni immigrated to the United States with their stepparents, eventually settling in Rosebank in 1895. Vito married Teresa Cavallo and had seven children, two girls and five boys. Tragically, in 1935 their youngest son Vito Jr. died of pneumonia at the tender age of five.
Granite and bronze monument dedicated to Vito Louis Russo
Everyone agrees that the untimely death of the child was the catalyst behind the building of the grotto. However, reports are conflicting about whether Vito's indoor paper shrine (which the grotto was modeled after) was created before or after his son's death. Nevertheless, society members embraced the project and construction began in October 1937. Vito was unanimously elected president for life in 1939 and presided over the society until he passed away on February 22, 1954.
An old black-and-white photo of Vito Russo's 
paper model in his Smith Street home
(Reproduced from a Society of Mount Carmel brochure)
In 1983 Thomas Tedesco built the chapel to St. Anthony and a year later the giant crucifix. In 2001 the site was placed on the New York and National Registers of Historic Places. Amazingly, the grotto is not considered complete, there is talk that the society plans to expand the grotto and build an arch envisioned by Vito.

Undoubtedly, during the rest of the year the Grotto offers visitors a moment of peace and tranquility. I look forward to resting under its canopy of trees, alone with my thoughts.
A closer look at the grotto
(L-R) Thomas Tedesco's St. Anthony chapel 
and some details of the shrine 
Sign at grotto entrance declares its 
National and State Historic Site status
The following source proved invaluable to this post:
Multivocality and Vernacular Architecture: The Our Lady of Mount Carmel Grotto in Rosebank, Staten Island by Joseph Sciorra from Studies In Italian American Folklore edited by Luisa Del Giudice, Utah State University Press, 1994

For more info please visit The Mount Carmel Society online at Ourladyofmountcarmelshrineofrosebank.com

Our Lady of Mount Carmel Grotto
36 Amity Street at White Plains Avenue 
Rosebank, Staten Island, NY 10305
(347) 204-5203

July 13, 2012

Independence Flagstaff Revisited

By Giovanni di Napoli

I returned to Anthony de Francisci's Independence Flagstaff at Union Square Park this morning to pay my respects to the artist (he was born 125 years ago today) as well as get additional photos. Recently, I tried to take pictures of his sculpture for Independence Day, but the Parks Department were busy cleaning the monuments for the Fourth of July celebration. Now that the lawn is open to visitors again and his bronze reliefs are polished I wanted to get a closer look. Here are a few bonus pix to supplement my original post, On the Origin of Specie: 'Lady Liberty' and Anthony de Francisci.

Photos by New York Scugnizzo

July 12, 2012

The Giglio Lights Up the Night Sky of Williamsburg

A Beacon of Tradition
(Photos by New York Scugnizzo)
Some friends and I returned to Williamsburg, Brooklyn yesterday for the night lifting of the giglio at the 125th annual Feast of San Paolino outside Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church. Needless to say, we had a great time. The weather was great, spirits were high and the giglio was rockin'. 
Mark and his son Gino enjoying the festivities
Up until now I’ve focused primarily on the giglio itself, but as one reader reminded me, a feast is not a feast without the food. Yesterday's night lift gave me the perfect opportunity to highlight (and eat) some of the feast’s delicious southern Italian delicacies.

Antipasto: I started my night with a dozen clams
from Lou’s Fried Seafood and Clam Bar
Primi Piatti: Who could resist a freshly made calzone?
Secondi Piatti: Next up was the obligatory sausage and peppers
Dolce: Young ladies serve up some delicious zeppole to sate my sweet tooth

July 9, 2012

A Look at the 125th Annual Feast of San Paolino di Nola in Williamsburg, Brooklyn

Viva San Paolino!
The giglio danced its way through the throng
It was smooth sailing for San Paolino's boat
"The Sultan"
Faith, family and friendship keeps this time-honored tradition alive
The band kept festivities rolling
The sweltering heat did not dampen any spirits
A show of fidelity
As temperatures soared the paranza showed their true mettle
A feat of strength: Carrying a five story,
three ton tower for five hours is no small task
The St. Paulinus Society's standard
Some lifters show their devotion with tattoos
Photos by New York Scugnizzo