Here is another instalment of photographs of Italian shops. In March 2020, as the COVID-19 pandemic took hold and all shops were closed in Italy, I published an elegaic photo essay celebrating the shopfronts and the shopkeepers of Italy. It was a worrying time and I published it as much to cheer myself up as for anyone else, although I hope it may have cheered others up as well.
Now, two and a half years later, the pandemic has eased, although the hoofbeats of another horseman of the apocalypse can be heard to the northeast. So in slightly happier but still nervous times, here is another chapter.
As I said in the earlier post, Italians have a flair for design and presentation which in the case of shops manifests itself both in the design of the shopfront and in the care which goes into the displays of merchandise.
Let us start with a very elegant butcher’s shop in Arezzo, a Norcineria (delicatessen) in Orvieto, and a Gastronomia in the Naples suburb of Vomero.
Still on the subject of food – a very important subject in Italy – here are a gastronomia from the town of Bevagna with an impressive delivery bike outside, and an osteria in Todi, the interior of which promises a warm welcome as the evening draws in.
Bars occupy a special place in Italian life. In the mornings they serve coffee and pastries for breakfast – often eaten standing up at the counter by people on their way to work. This is the only time of day when milky coffees like cappucini are ordered by Italians. A strong black espresso is of course acceptable at any hour of the day or night. Then in late morning people stop ordering cappucini and it becomes acceptable to order a pre-lunch aperitivo – a glass of wine or a spritz, or a beer if it is hot. Snacks, often quite substantial, may be offered – and outside the main tourist areas may even be included in the price of the drinks. Bars may double as pasticcerie and gelaterie, and many cheaper restaurants and trattorie double as bars before mealtimes.
In the warmer months a bar’s tables and chairs may spill out into sunny piazzas, and in winter a bar offers a bright, warm and steamy refuge on a dark and cold morning.
Bars can be huge and swanky with uniformed waiters, or tiny and utilitarian with a single person serving. An example of the former is Caffè Paszkowski in Florence, and there are literally thousands of examples of the latter. Below the picture of Caffè Paszkowski is one of a tiny and anonymous bar in Corso Cavour in Todi.
But Italians all have their favourite, and are faithful to them. There is a phrase – di fiducia, literally “of trust” – which tells you a lot about Italian behaviour. Your bar – or greengrocer’s, or butcher’s – di fiducia is the one you are faithful to, where they recognise you and greet you. And if the proprietor saw you going into another establishment they would feel slighted. As people who are obviously not Italian and are therefore usually assumed to be tourists, it means a lot to us to have a bar and shops di fiducia in our adopted town.
Here are two more examples of neighbourhood bars – the Bar Viviani in Arezzo and the Bar Loreti in the little town of Acquasparta in Umbria.
Of course where else but in Rome could you actually find shops that specialise in liturgical vestments?
The gritty streets of downtown Naples must be one of the most challenging environments for the proud shopkeeper. Theft and vandalism are equal threats, and the response is armoured steel doors that when closed look as if they would withstand anything short of assault with an anti-tank weapon. But when they are opened they reveal display windows and shelves on the insides of the doors, whether for the beautifully boxed chocolates of Gay-Odin, or the books of the d’Ambrosio bookshop, both below.
After hours, when the doors are closed again, you would walk past them without a second look, unaware of the treasures within.
I will finish with what must be one of the most elegant barbershops anywhere. Mr Bertini’s establishment in Todi is rightly famous for its ornately carved shopfront, which has been seen in many online travelogues and even featured in a television advertisement for Moretti Beer. Mr Bertini is also a real artist with scissors and razor.
The first four photographs were taken at the Giostro della Quintana (“Joust of the Quintain”) which has been held twice a year in the Umbrian town of Foligno since its revival in 1946. The joust (where mounted lancers try and hit a target on a rotating wooden dummy) is preceded by a parade in costume. I took these photographs in the park in which the participants were forming up.
Foligno is located, somewhat unusually for this region, on the valley floor rather than perched on a hilltop or halfway up the side of a mountain. That means it has spread out a bit and the outskirts are quite industrial (which also means it was bombed during the Second World War). So our visits to Foligno had been restricted to shopping trips to the outskirts, until friends recommended we take a look at the centre.
That turned out to be good advice. The centre of Foligno has lovely buildings, nice restaurants, and cheap parking. And being flat, you can wander around it with less effort than in most Umbrian towns. It also has a museum (the Palazzo Trinci) with extraordinary frescoes and a staircase that could have been designed by M.C. Escher. I plan a separate post on all that one day. Edit: I have now posted two articles on the Palazzo Trinci. You can find the first here and the second here.
My readers, being all very educated, will have noticed that the Renaissance costumes in these photographs are consistent in both period and authenticity, unlike in some festivals where the concept of – say – “medieval” can be a bit elastic, as is how the participants’ trousers are held up . This consistency is not the result of careful selection of the photographs; they are all consistently based on Renaissance originals, and consistently this good.
The remainder of these photographs were taken at the annual festival of the patron saint of the town of Todi, also in Umbria. I wrote about the 2018 festival here. The grand parade in Todi is preceded by various events, including an archery competition between the town districts, flag-tossing, and a competition between drumming groups from various towns in the region.
Some of the drumming groups were very good indeed, but the prize went to the local team (admittedly a popular decision).
Although some Renaissance (and later) themes appear in the parade, here the emphasis is on the medieval, and specifically the High Middle Ages, because let’s face it, the costumes were more fun then than earlier.
However just because the costumes are a bit flamboyant, that does not mean that the participants are not extremely serious about it.
Indeed, sometimes it seems that there is an inverse relationship between the exuberance of the costume and the demeanour of its wearer.
There is one group of participants who have trouble maintaining the regulation straight face, and that is the children, because they are all having such tremendous fun.
Watching one of the countless Italian events where people
get dressed up in historical costume is great fun for tourists. But here’s the
thing – most of the time they aren’t really doing it for you, they’re doing it
for themselves.
Yes of course, events like the Palio in Siena are big tourist drawcards, but by all accounts the
municipal rivalries on display are no less intense for that. And for every big
event there are dozens if not scores of smaller local ones. Few are genuine
survivals from antiquity, but many have been bolted on to things that are, such
as the commemoration of a town’s patron saint, or a Good Friday recreation of
the Passion.
Moreover, there seems to be a difference between the way
these things are approached in Italy and in English-speaking countries. While
living in England several years ago we saw an historical re-enactment which was
clearly exemplary in its attention to historical detail – in costumes, weapons
and military tactics. In Italy things can sometimes be a bit more approximate –
the costumes worn by participants in a “medieval” festival might range from the
13th to the 17th Centuries.
But, with great respect to the English lot, they do seem to come from a more narrowly-defined (dare I say nerdy?) group than do their equivalents in Italy. In Italy you might find your neighbour – a carpenter during the week – walking solemnly along dressed in a monk’s cowl. Or the chap who wins the archery contest is the accountant who helps you work out your annual property tax. Or the gonfaloniere (banner carrier) in the parade is your plumber. Or the beautiful damsel in the flowing dress is the girl who serves your morning coffee at your favourite bar in the piazza. In other words, in Italy you get the sense that a broader section of the local community is involved. And thoroughly enjoying itself, to boot.
Here are four vignettes of this – one from Como in Lombardy,
one from Rome, and two from Todi in Umbria.
Como, 2017
We had been staying in Cadenabbia, halfway up the lake, and
had caught the hydrofoil down to Como for the day. The main object of the visit
was the 11th-Century Lombard-Romanesque Basilica of Sant’ Abbondio,
which involved a pleasant walk through the length of the historic centre of
Como.
On the way back to the ferry terminal we heard the
characteristic sound of a group of drummers some way off, and before long we came
across a group of drummers and sbandieratori
– those people who do the complicated displays with flags, including tossing
them into the air and catching them.
They were accompanied by a leather-lunged individual who, in
breaks between drumming and flag-tossing, announced the forthcoming highlights
of the medieval fair that was on that weekend. He in turn was accompanied by a
small serious-looking child in a white smock and skullcap, and large
spectacles. The effect (hopefully intended) was of some sort of miniature Doctor of Physick.
The flag-tossers were not the most expert, and a couple of
times had to run into the crowd to catch the flags before they landed on spectators,
but no-one seemed to mind very much.
Buon Compleanno, Roma, 2015
We were making our way into the city from our digs in Trastevere, intending to visit the Aventine Hill (one of the Seven Hills of Rometm). On the way, near the church of Santa Maria in Cosmadin, I pointed to a crowd in the distance and observed that there seemed to be an awful lot of tourists down there. Lou’s eyesight was better than mine in those days and she thought that it looked more like some kind of political demonstration.
At that point we realised that it was at least seventy years since political demonstrations in Rome involved people marching in ranks wearing polished helmets, carrying weapons, and axe-heads in bundles of sticks. In fact, what we had stumbled on was the annual celebration of Rome’s traditional birthday. By tradition, Rome was founded on the 21st of April, 753 BC. That made the following Tuesday the 2768th birthday of the city. So instead of fascists (OK, some of them were being fascists but in the ancient sense) what we were seeing was a large number of historical re-enactment societies from all over Italy – and there are a LOT of them – descending on Rome to take part in a parade.
Several of the societies clearly took it very seriously
indeed. They had adopted the legion that was raised in their own area and had
put enormous effort into authentic recreation of the armour and weapons of the
era. Others were a bit – well – cardboard, but everyone was having a jolly good
time.
There were lots of legionaries, chanting the Latin version
of the Romans, united, will never be defeated, a fair few gladiators, a
handful of foederati (barbarian allies), and lots of vestal virgins.
A group of senators dressed in their scarlet-trimmed white
togas came past. I gave them an “ave” which they solemnly returned.
Festa di San Fortunato, Todi, Umbria, 2018
Saint Fortunatus is the patron saint of Todi. He seems to have been an historical figure, as he was a bishop of the town in the 6th Century who is said to have persuaded the invading Goths not to attack. On the other hand it is possible that they were just put off by the prospect of the long steep climb up from the Tiber Valley below, which is challenging enough for a Fiat Panda.
His saint’s day continues to be marked by religious observance in Todi, and there is no reason not to believe that the tradition has continued without interruption since antiquity. In recent times, the tradition has been augmented by a weekend of medieval high jinks including falconry demonstrations and an archery competition between the rioni or town districts, culminating in a grand parade.
Many of the groups in the parade were from other towns in the region, and as I said before, the definition of “medieval” was elastic enough to include costumes from eras up to the 17th Century.
Some groups, in costumes that could have been painted by Rembrandt, looked so fine that I was prepared to forgive them the anachronism.
Several of the young women of Todi had obviously decided to
go with a general medieval vibe over strict authenticity and rather than
wearing long dresses, had opted for long tights and short tunics. After careful
consideration, I was prepared to forgive them that as well.
Archery
Competition and Sbandieratori, Todi, Umbria,
2019
Medieval archery has become quite a thing in Todi and in April there is a competition which attracts teams from all over Italy. Contestants move between various locations in the town, where they take part in different events – shooting at conventional targets, shooting at targets that move, shooting from moving saddles that mimic the movement of horses, and so on. You can see a video of the 2018 tournament here.
There is a medieval-themed market, some of which is just stalls selling the usual local produce with the stallholders in period dress, but some of which are selling “medieval” wares of varying degrees of authenticity.
A group of drummers and sbandieratori is associated with the Todi archery group and they are very good.
The crowd favourites were three small girls who took part with special lightweight flags, and who took it all very seriously indeed. Each did a session with an adult (maybe her dad) in which they followed his movements with great concentration.