Movement(s) on the left
Plus, a New Yorker story and Venetian cicchetti
Glossing the news these days, prospects for progressive movements in Italy seem negligible. That’s why I’m particularly grateful to a number of readers this week for drawing my attention to a small but lively group who are fighting against the nihilism of the current moment. Invisibili in movimento is a coalition of marginalised people, mainly migrant workers, operating outside what is usually recognised as the national political ‘demos’. Those involved aren’t just flag-wavers. They’re pragmatic idealists who are organising tirelessly to re-galvanize bottom-up participatory democracy and influence local and national institutions alike. They’ve even begun working across borders. Last week, Aboubakar Soumahoro, an Ivorian trade unionist, was in London building links with labour activists in the UK; and his colleagues have been busy in Brussels forging similar bonds. The Italian left has been stalled for a very long time now. And while Invisibili in movimento is (far) too small to change the picture alone, they are a breath of fresh air in a galaxy of otherwise-flailing citizen movements (Sinistra Italiana; Potere al Popolo et al). Follow them on Instagram; or read here for a good ENG language primer on Soumahoro’s personal political journey.
Alex Sakalis can always be counted on for unearthing some of the more outlandish curiosities about Italy’s recent history, and his latest piece is no exception. This month he reports from Cavriago, a small town in Emilia Romagna, which - bizarrely - is home to a Soviet era bust of Vladimir Lenin. The statue was made in 1922 by factory workers in the Ukrainian city of Luhansk and looted by Italian soldiers during WWII. Years later, in 1970, in the midst of the Cold War, Cavriago’s staunchly communist local government decided to celebrate the centenary of Lenin’s birth and, as a gesture of thanks, the USSR embassy in Rome donated the piece to the comune. Sakalis’s piece covers all the minor details, which - decades on - seem almost unbelievable. I also enjoyed his descriptions of the town itself, which well-capture the current eeriness of the old ‘red belt’ communities: “Cavriago is an odd place. Largely destroyed during WW2 and then rebuilt in an anodyne, modern style, it has the grey, foggy demeanour typical of the towns and villages stranded in the middle of the Po Valley. Piazza Lenin is today a large square surrounded by trees and glum modern houses, the monumental sight of a Conad superstore rising in the distance” Read the full piece here.
Arts and culture: writing, out of place
The New Yorker published an Italy related story in the 31 Jan 2022 issue which I’ve just got round to reading. ‘Long Distance’ by Aysegul Savas follows a young woman named Lea who, during a study abroad programme in Rome, invites her American boyfriend-slash-fling to fly across for a few days. The action begins with Lea stocking up the fridge, cleaning the sheets and imagining what they might get up to (will their time be taken up with sightseeing? Or will they spend the weekend in bed?). Ultimately – without spoiling – neither of the options prove fortuitous, and the pair instead find themselves wandering aimlessly, testing the waters and ill-defined parameters of their relationship as they low-level bicker in the gardens around Villa Borghese. There are some uncanny similarities plot-wise to the Rome pages of Sally Rooney’s Beautiful world where are you? here, though Savas’s presentation of a young woman struggling to distinguish between patriarchy-induced trauma and her own personal neuroses is entirely original. Read or listen here.
The editors at Frieze magazine have - as usual - dedicated their April edition to the Venice Biennale, and, based on the preview, this year’s show will once again probe the limits of what we mean by ‘cultural cosmopolitanism.’ Jennifer Higgie, the author and ex-editor of the magazine, has published a particularly provocative piece for the online edition called “How Venice’s National Pavilions Complicate the Notion of Citizenship” in which she calls into question the long history – and uncritical trope – of dividing artists and pavilions according to nationality. Her own argument, by the way, is in favour of maintaining such a division; and while my gut instinct is to disagree, her case is so eloquently made that I can’t resist quoting a large chunk of it below. Read the full piece here.
“Only an ingenue would believe that the art world is a liberal, left-leaning, inclusive, non-profit, vegan, refugee-supporting, anti-racist, class-blind utopia. It’s not. It’s a hot mess funded by a carnivorous mix of the good, the bad and the ugly, and this is nowhere more obvious than in the opening days of the Venice Biennale. Every two years, oligarchs and arms dealers, dodgy officials, white-collar criminals and thinly veiled dictators rub shoulders with artists, writers, museum directors, curators and gallerists over Bellini cocktails in canalside palaces. Blink, and you might assume everyone was on the same side. They’re not: even a shared passport doesn’t necessarily imply kinship. If anything unites everyone, it’s this: whoever they are and whatever the cut of their jib, they’re using art for something – be that to find solace or to show off; to make sense of the world or to rip it to shreds; to engage in serious discussion and promote tolerance or to broker a new money-making deal; to encourage tourism or to have fun. That’s the weird magic of this shape-shifting language we call art: it can be whatever you want it to be, wherever you are. National pavilions are only bricks and mortar.”
Recipe of the week: Grilled smoked herring salad
Yesterday marked the publication of Emiko Davies’s new cooking book Cinnamon and Salt: Ciccheti in Venice which promises a journey through “Small Bites from the Lagoon City.” I’m a big – OK huge – fan of Davies’s work. I particularly like how unafraid she is of keeping things simple. Instead of cramming her recipes with obscure seasoning to please international palettes she works to communicate the small techniques and authentic tricks that make apparently simple Italian dishes sing. You can expect the usual Venetian fare here: baccala mantecto, sarde in saor and so on. But she’s also dedicated sections to fried dishes, small plates and the intriguingly titled ‘modern cicchetti.’ I’ll be starting off with the ‘grilled smoked herring salad’ this week, which you can check out in the preview link (p 156-7). Otherwise, if you’re interested, you can order the book here.
About Me
My name is Jamie Mackay (@JacMackay) and I’m an author, editor and translator based in Florence. I’ve been writing about Italy for a decade for international media including The Guardian, The Economist, Frieze, and Art Review. I launched ‘The Week in Italy’ to share a more direct and regular overview of the debates and dilemmas, innovations and crises that sometimes pass under the radar of our overcrowded news feeds.
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