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Published: February 11th 2007
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Luigi
My favorite little man working on a frame for a tondo. I just thought it was interesting that the first man I met was named Mario, and my next little story is about a funny little old man named Luigi. I love Italy! (play super mario theme song now).
Last tuesday my Italian class met at the Piazza Pitti (south of the Arno and one of my favorite spots) and we were told we were going to an Artist's workshop. This little man then led us away past all the bustle of the Piazza into a little cluster of back streets. Here, tucked away are tons of artist's studios. They work there and live upstairs. (My dream place, right? I mean, it smells a little funky, but so does all of Florence for that matter.).
He then took us to one of the shops where another little old man was waiting for us. He is a wood-carver and art-restorer named Luigi! Luigi is shorter than me and stands on a little block of wood by his work table. He told us all about his career, what he was making, and told us about all the different tools he uses. This is all in Italian of course, so I was in
Luigi
Teaching and out on the understanding part, but it was incredibly interesting nonetheless. All over his studio are medieval wooden sculptures that he's fixing and doing things like making new hands and feet. While he was talking he was working on the frame for a tondo painting and carving beautiful reliefs of fruit and leaves faster than you could ever imagine. I've carved wood before for block printing, and its no easy task. He made it look like he was just cutting a piece of paper. Then he actually taught us how to apply gold leaf. He uses all old methods and tools (things like fish glue and powdered stone gesso), and then he let us all use the boar hair brushes to put the gold on a frame. So cool! After his lesson he rushed to give us all his card and told us that we have to come back and visit him! Perhaps I will...
Then, this friday my role as student was reversed and I found myself in front of a whole bunch of 3rd graders teaching them English. whaaa...
Our school has a volunteer program that goes to different elementary schools to do "Story-telling". We
read them "Green Eggs and Ham" and do a bunch of different activities with them with rhyme, words, and questions. Well, I thought there would be some kind of practice, training, what have you. No. We were given a sheet with what we were to do on it, put in a car, and sent off to the Florentine countryside to teach.
Kind of scary at first, but once we were there it became so easy. We walked into the class room and the kids sang us a song that went something like "Good morning. Good morning. Good morning to you my friend!" The first class was so good. They laughed and were reading along with us by the end. We made up things as we went and it seemed to go alright. My partner, Josh, and I decided it was a breeze, and went on to our second class of the day.
Woah! We walked in to children running around everywhere. One kid immediately rushed up to me with a picture he drew and then ran away. Their teacher did not speak very good English, and was actually benefiting from our lecture. We'd hold up our animal and
Boboli Cats
Kitty in a tree color flashcards and the teacher would say "Oh! I don't know that one!". The first class all knew how to say "my name is...", but when I asked someone in this class, very slowly "what is your name?" and the kid looked at me and said back "what is your name." So, we had to first work out how to say "my name is.." and "I am 8." The kids had a great time, but it was a little harder to keep any sort of order and I can't count how many kids rushed up to me in the middle of the lesson to ask me in Italian if they could keep all the props. One of those classes where it was dangerous to make them laugh because once they started laughing, chaos ensued. At least they had fun, right? And I got a very pretty picture of traced puzzle pieces.
This thursday I'll be reading Dr. Suess's "The Foot Book" to first graders. I'll uh, let you know how it goes. It's actually a wonderful experience since I go around telling everyone I want to do early childhood art education... So far, even after crazy class, I think its still something I want to take on. ahh...
My sad news of the week is that my computer crashed. Many of you already know. I had to fight back the tears when the Italian man with a pointy beard told me all was lost. He was a good friend. a good compy. and he had 3 years worth of stuff on there. So besides all the other info, now I'm music-less, and "Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia"-less, which were my two "I can't speak in Italian anymore so I'm going to hide in my room" activities. Oh well. I guess I'll do my homework.
To make myself feel better, I spent the beautiful saturday (60degrees and sunny in February!) in the Boboli Gardens. I packed up my bike with my camera and sketch pad and spent a good solid portion of the day wandering through the beautiful pathways and gazing at the amazing panoramic views of Florence and the surrounding countryside. Its absolutely amazing and I can't wait to see it when things start to bloom. I spent the rest of the day in the Museo di San Marco and took a short trip to visit the David for the first time! All in all, what I'd call a perfect Saturday. Until, when trying to decide what I should wear out for dinner, I asked my host mother if it was going to cry outside. The word for 'to cry' is piangere, and the word for 'to rain' is piovere. I'm awesome. But I did serve as a translator for our architect friend who doesn't speak English, who really likes my friend who doesn't speak Italian. I was the third person in a conversation of him looking at me and saying in Italian things like "Will you be home tomorrow? Ask her" and her telling me in English the response, for me to translate back into Italian for him. Somehow I think it's a doomed relationship...
Allora, Hope all is well at home, London, Zambia, and wherever other people who read this journal are... Again, in closing, I will post pictures when these slow computers decide they like me.
Ciao ciao!
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Brendan
non-member comment
sorry bout the compy, friend. someday karma will repay you. by the way, i met a guy from Verona on holiday named FAUSTO LUIGI. He was so loud, and so Italian, but a great person, and he runs a hotel in Verona, so...whenever. my address is: Brendan Michael Riordan St. Luke's Mission Hospital PO Box 32789 Mpanshya, Lusaka Zambia, Africa ciao bella!