Neo-fascism comes to picturesque small-town Italy

 

Men outside Caffè Europa in the Roman hill town of Rocca di Papa.

We've always enjoyed watching the men (it's always men) in local bars, sitting around, playing cards, talking. It seems very communal, a good place for these apparently retired Italians. We were consequently horrified to see the small town where the photo above was taken, our favorite small town in the Alban Hills outside of Rome, identified by the New York Times this past week as a hot bed of neo-Fascism.

We had become inured to the fact that Giorgia Meloni, head of the Fratelli d'Italia party ("Brothers of Italy"), would become prime minister. For months the polls had shown her leading, even if her party received only about one-quarter of the vote. She made a pact with some other devils, including Silvio Berlusconi and Matteo Salvini, on her way to the top post in Italy. Salvini was rewarded with the position of Deputy Prime Minister and - get this and don't choke - Minister of Infrastructure and Sustainable Mobility (no wonder Italian Facebook went nuts over this Brave-New-World-speak).

We've also been keenly aware of the posters and graffiti around Rome that even decades ago promoted neo-Fascism. We wrote about some of these in our posts on posters and right-wing "heroes." (See here and here.)

What appalled us (and we can hear all our Roman friends going, "DUH!") was that our charming, special, sweet town voted 38% for Meloni's party, knowing they were reviving Fascism.

Are those men above likely Fascists? The New York Times featured the bar across the way, Bar Centrale. But my guess is, yes, you're looking at the right-wing there playing cards.

We had noted in a 2014 post a building we thought likely had been Fascist headquarters until after World War II. It's got the bulky look of buildings of that era, it's now a municipal building, and the date is obvious:  "A.D. 1935." One of our loyal readers, Marco, questioned that interpretation, saying: 

"I find it unlikely that the building in the photo may have been once the Party's HQ - not only the style is not Fascist in appearance, but the Fascist Era (Anno XIII E.F.) mark is nowhere to be seen on the building's façade, as are any remnants of chipped-away fasces one'd expect to find on such buildings."

He makes some good points, and perhaps we were wrong about the past (if there were some other factors we had taken into account there, I don't recall them), but there's no question about the present for Rocca di Papa.

One reason we favor the town is that it's the starting point for one of our best hikes, up Monte Cavo. In fact the photo we took, right, of Monte Cavo from the town, was taken from the now infamous (to us) Bar Centrale.

It's not hard to find men hanging out outside the bars or in the very large square that dominates the lower part of the town. (See photo below.)

From now on, we will have to listen more carefully to their conversations, though maybe we won't like what we hear.

Caffè Europa  is dear to our hearts because it's not only where we've always started (coffee) our hikes, it's also where we've ended (beer) them, and parked our scooter. The photo below was taken with our 2nd of three scooters (historically, not all at once), the foregrounded Malaguti, while the guys play cards, per usual.

That the town is picturesque is an understatement, and it's beautifully sited below Monte Cavo (see photo at end of this post). Its "shield" features the "rocca" or fortress - on the fountain that graces the top of the large square in the photo below. And the "Papa" is for a 12th century Pope who lived there (Eugenio III).

Another view below is from the cemetery, and in the distance the ruins of ancient Tusculum, a Roman town. Everything in Rocca di Papa, including the cemetery (and that 1935 building above) is on a slant, given its position on the steeply sloping hillside.

More in a later post on Mussolini and the rise of neo-Fascism.

Dianne

The town of Rocca di Papa, seen from the main piazza. The first phase of the hike to Monte
Cavo is getting to the top of Rocca di Papa via picturesque city streets. The mountain itself is straight ahead but is not visible in the photo. 

Oh What a Night... out on the (Roman) town for the European Music Festival

at Teatro Coloseo (at least that's where we think
 we were)

The current Festa Europea della Music (European Music Festival), taking place in 100 European cities, has a very full Rome schedule for 4 days, through this Sunday.  Never ones to miss what might be free and somewhat improvisational events, we booked 4 on our calendar for Thursday night and jetted off on our Malaguti about 5.30 pm for an early one at 6 p.m.

We were in the right place at the right time for what looked like the right performers (woman on piano, man on violin).  As we waltzed into the space, festooned with posters that seemed to indicate we had it right, Bill pulled back a red curtain and whispered back to me (“there are only 3 people”).  I responded “well, now we’ll be 5,” fully expecting to sit in the back of a concert hall, or at least something resembling a theater, only to find 2 benches along a wall, the performers in between.  We took our seats, along with the 3 others - men- for a very intimate performance of familiar classics in this performance billed as a “Salut d’Amour.”  A couple other men joined us on the benches and within a few minutes, they started standing up, then getting instruments from back rooms, and then performing as a group – an accordionist, two vocalists, later a trumpeter.  It seemed only the man next to us was not performing (and us – “we could get up and dance,” said Bill, “that’s about all we can contribute”).

What a performance it was!  The singing was full-throated (there was even one “song” that was completely whistled), the playing passionate, and the pianist and violinist seemed “in” on the whole thing. 

In fact, we had come early for the performance we thought would take place after this one, at 7 p.m., of Italian and German songs from the intra-war period by what was listed as “Fratelli d’Italia” (“Brothers of Italy”).  But, after the 6 p.m. performance(s) ended, we were invited to come to the “real” show “with 10 people on stage, at 9 p.m.” And so it appeared that would happen, and that we had just been given the gift of an amazing rehearsal.

It would be hard to top those great, intimate performances we just witnessed, but we were on to our next event (since the 7 p.m. one clearly wasn’t going to go on until 9 p.m.) at the Brazilian Embassy in Rome’s enormous Piazza Navona… we were a bit early for that, and, as we parked our Malaguti,  we heard coming from the nearby courtyard of Palazzo Braschi – a Rome museum, a woman singing jazz in English. 

When we followed her voice inside, we saw free-flowing wine and even snacks.  Well, never shy about joining a party, we proceeded to experience healthy “tastes” of wine, even gelato, more music (violinists) and even a fashion show of sorts.  With some effort, we discovered this was a promotion for artisan workers in the centro and around Piazza Navona in particular – sculptors, basket weavers, dyers, you name it.

Borromini's Hall and Pietro da Cortona's frescoes

We dragged ourselves away because we weren’t sure if the Brazilian event (to which we had taken the immense effort of getting on the invitation list by sending an email earlier in the day) was at 8 or 8.30.  We walked a few steps over to the Embassy and found our names on the invitation list and walked up the grand staircase into some of the most beautiful rooms we have ever been in (The White House included). 

take two

Waiters in white jackets were serving Proseco and water and we weren’t turning it down, especially while gliding through rooms designed by Borromini and frescoed by Pietro da Cortona, with the best views one can imagine overlooking the bustle of Piazza Navona.  The Embassy is housed in the 17th-century Palazzo Pamphili, and the Brazilians seemed more than happy to open its most beautiful rooms to everyone in attendance.  After 30 minutes or so of this astounding visual treat, we went into the performance by Esdras Maddalon, one of Brasil’s young classical guitarists.  As we listened I thought how much the Buffalo Philharmonic director Joann Faletta – whose instrument is guitar – would have enjoyed it. 

And, so, as we know but constantly are delightfully reminded, Rome is never as billed.  One has to be ready for the unexpected.  And sometimes the unplanned and unexpected is the best.  Rock on Fratelli d’Italia.

Dianne