Prosecco worries
Plus, unjust energy transition and new history books
First things first, some bad news for Prosecco-lovers. Overproduction of Italy’s favourite sparkling wine is wreaking havoc on the environment of the UNESCO protected valleys around Valdobbiadene where many of the native Glera grapes are grown. In recent decades, with global demand so high, major producers based in the area have been expanding their vineyards to take up ever-larger amounts of land. The situation has, apparently, gotten progressively worse over the course of the pandemic. According to a report in The Guardian residents are complaining that over the past few months they’ve been waking up to find forested areas chopped down without any prior warning, and the companies responsible refuse to provide evidence of permits. The local government in Veneto denies the wine industry is out of control, but a series of floods and mudslides in the region - clearly attributable to intensive monoculture - suggest there are in fact some pretty severe problems. To be clear: nobody is saying you shouldn’t drink prosecco. Campaigners have re-iterated that the real, long-term solution will require re-grassing areas where soil has been eroded, and better regulation of land use. Nevertheless, the next time you buy a bottle it may be worth going the extra mile to support producers like, say, Perlage, who are making the wine in line with principles that are genuinely sustainable.
The intersection between economics and ecology has been a recurring trend in the Italian news this week. The most problematic such story concerns energy costs. On Monday Roberto Cingolani, the Minister for Ecological Transition, announced that, as of October, electricity bills in Italy could rise by as much as 40%. This is a huge increase, apparently largely attributable to carbon taxes the EU has dictated as part of the green recovery plan (which aims to achieve net zero emissions by 2050.) Of course, the real culprits here are the energy companies like Enel who could, for the sake of the planet and its inhabitants, accept a decline in profits; or the national government, who could force their hand or compensate for the worst damage. Either way, coming on the back of a 20% rise in the last quarter, the Italian case is a perfect example of how, without a programme of social measures, ‘green politics’, imposed from Brussels, can in fact cause serious problems. It’s worth adding here, of course, that climate breakdown is itself already hitting EU consumers hard. Over the past month, to take just one example, unprecedented droughts in Canada have devastated the wheat harvest and as a consequence some of the major global pasta brands that make use of this imported raw material, such as Barilla, are planning on raising their prices. This will have knock on effects for Italian and other European consumers who may have to pay up to 50% more for their pack of supermarket spaghetti.
Given the degree of economic anxiety currently in the air, now would seem an apt moment to draw attention to a new social justice campaign that’s just launched. ‘Paese reale’ pledges to side-step the ‘distraction’ of the so-called ‘culture war’ issues to (re)focus progressives’ attention to what its founders see as fundamentals: they are calling for a minimum wage, a minimum annual income for all workers, and for better quality public services (schools, health and transport). Obviously, the socialist left, but not only, have been making such arguments for a long time. Nevertheless, given the unhelpful nostalgia of so much leftist politics, not to mention the factional divisions, poor party infrastructure, and public mistrust that surround existing ideological-moments, the proposal is quite interesting. I do find the branding rather bland and the culture war isn’t of course entirely irrelevant or so easily bypassed… but still: infographics like the above could hopefully play at least some role in re-focusing attention away from the latest social media in-fighting, if only in certain quarters. And that would be a small plus in my book. Follow the group on Facebook here (Italian only) if this is your thing.
Arts and culture: a pair of new histories
I want to draw your attention to two upcoming non-fiction releases this week. The first ‘The Light of Italy: The Life and Times of Federico da Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino’ by Jane Stevenson (not the English Tory MP!) is a study of the ‘flowering and decline’ of a small but powerful renaissance city, which apparently ‘casts revelatory light on patronage, politics and humanism in fifteenth-century Italy.’ I’ve got a weakness for books that attempt to re-think that era from vantage points beyond the key centres of Florence, Rome and Venice. Montefeltro, the soldier-scholar, and ‘ideal leader’, in particular, is a figure I’ve wanted to learn more about ever since reading Jacob Burckhardt’s book on the prince(s) way back when I was doing my A-levels. That said, this isn’t a straight-up biography. Instead Stevenson pledges to give insight into the mercurial condottieri, the economics of the age and, perhaps most interestingly, the architectural and artistic experiments that the Duke presided over in Urbino. I’ve just ordered my copy from Head of Zeus and am looking forward to swotting up soon.
Mary Beard’s much-anticipated new book Twelve Caesars: Images of Power from the Ancient World to the Modern is also out at the end of this month. Her study begins with a consideration of our own cultural moment, and the ‘statue debates’ that have been given new prominence in light of the BLM demonstrations and the toppling of the Colston memorial in Bristol. Being a historian, though, Beard is mainly concerned with offering a longer-term perspective on how statues and power have been linked from Roman time onwards, and how publics, in turn, have contested these symbols. It’s an ambitious but risky premise I think (there’s obviously a danger of over-synthesising, or drawing flat parallels here.) The publisher, though, is keen to abate such worries, clarifying that it is not “a story of a simple repetition of stable, blandly conservative images of imperial men and women” but “an unexpected tale of changing identities, clueless or deliberate misidentifications, fakes, and often ambivalent representations of authority.” Well, I for one am convinced. Check out the full blurb at Princeton University Press to make up your own mind.
Recipe of the week: Peppe Guida's lemon experiments
The final days of summer hit the Florentine hills this week. With the first end of season storms due to hit precisely as I’m writing this it’s hard to know what to cook. I’m done with salads, but it’s not yet cold enough for all the mushroomy porky Tuscan autumn goodies that, honestly, I’m now craving big time. Scrolling through YouTube, I came across a possible solution: lemon risotto. The above - rather elaborate - version by Peppe Guida involves an infusion of verbena instead of stock, and other quite complex “gourmet” techniques. I wanted to share it here, nevertheless, as his explanations are pretty clear and his ideas so beautifully creative that he makes it feel possible to produce some Michelin style cooking at home. Check out the other videos on Italia Squisita for similar creative inspiration. Otherwise just stick with Rachel Roddy’s tried-and-tested classic version to play it safe.
That’s it for this week - as ever I do hope you enjoyed this instalment. If you haven’t already, please do follow the ‘Week in Italy’ Facebook page, or my twitter, for a few extra links and easy-access to the substack archive. If this email was forwarded to you, or you’re accessing on the web and would like to receive further updates, you can subscribe using this link below. Thanks!
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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