Category Archives: History

The Two Faces of San Maurizio

27 Friday Sep 2013

Posted by in History, Holidays, Italian Churches, Italian festas, Italy, San Maurizio di Monti, Uncategorized

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September 22 is San Maurizio’s Saint Day, so of course there is a procession here in San Maurizio di Monti, and lots of other celebration too.  But who was he?  According to Wikipedia there is some disagreement about the veracity of the tale.  However, it is said that he was a general at the head of the legendary Theban Legion, which operated in Mesopotamia during the third century CE.  Later Emperor Diocletian sent the legion to Gaul to subdue both barbarians arriving from the north and a rebellious local population.

Diocletian’s successor, Emperor Maximian ordered the legion to persecute and kill the local population of Valais, whom he felt were not being loyal to Rome.  Many of this population had converted to Christianity, and the Legion was also Christian; they refused to murder their fellow believers.  Now it gets really bloody.  Maximian, angered by this  mutinous behahavior, ordered a decimation of the Legion, that is, one of every ten soldiers was to be beheaded.  After this gruesome punishment he again ordered the killing of the Valais population.  Again the Legion demurred and a second decimation ensued.  Still they refused to kill their fellow Christians.  This time the furious Maximian ordered that the entire remaining Legion be killed.  This extreme punishment was carried out in what is now Saint-Maurice-en-Valais, in Switzerland (by whom I couldn’t discover).  As general of this steadfastly Christian legion Maurice, or Maurizio here in Italy, is the one who became a saint.

He is usually depicted with a sword and, here in Italy, with a red cross.  He is the patron saint of the Alpini, the incredibly brave and strong Italian Alpine military group.  And he is depicted as either black or white.  He is assumed to have been born in Egypt, and was perhaps Nubian.

Nubian San Maurizio, painted between 1517 and 1523 by Matthias Gruenewald

Nubian San Maurizio, painted between 1517 and 1523 by Matthias Gruenewald

White San Maurizio

White San Maurizio painted in 1580 by El Greco

The celebrations in San Maurizio di Monti included the usual food stand, music and dancing for two evenings.  As well we had our very own fireworks display.  The serious part of the celebration took place in the late afternoon on September 22.

The Rapallo Band gave a short band concert before the celebratory mass, including some pretty snappy numbers.  Here are a couple of shots of the piazza in front of the church during the concert:

Note the red cross on the flag.

Note the red cross on the flag.

The band plays

The band plays

Red motorcycle in front of tablets commemorating war dead.

Red motorcycle in front of tablets commemorating war dead.

When the church was gussied up for the second millenium the portrait of San Maurizio over the door was repainted.

Goofy San Maurizio

Is it just me, or does he look kind of goofy? At the very least he looks like he has a very good secret.  That’s one of his faces in San Maurizio.  The other is much more serious, and can be seen on the statue that is the central part of the procession through town (‘through town’ is a grand way of saying the procession leaves the church, marches up the road about 400 meters to a fork in the road, turns around and marches back to the church for the conclusion of the mass).

Older photo taken in 2007.

Older photo taken in 2007.

On the statue Maurzio’s expression seems wistful – perhaps he would like to get out in the air more than once a year.  You can see a short video of the procession going from the church (with prayer) here, and another of it returning (with music) here.

He is our mystery saint, black or white, goofy or sad – like the rest of us, he’s… complicated.

Mare Nostrum

02 Friday Dec 2011

Posted by in History, Liguria, Rapallo, Uncategorized

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From November 4 – 20 the Castello in Rapallo hosted a terrific annual exhibit called “Mare Nostrum” (“Our Sea”) which included history, art and most specially, many ship models.  This year’s exhibit focused on the 150th anniversary of Italy’s unification, and included a special exhibit outlining the sea-faring highlights of that very complex and violent undertaking.  Called ‘Garibaldi, un Uomo di Mare’ it was curated by Maurizio Brescia, Emilio Carta and Carlo Gatti (who has one of my favorite last names).  Fascinating.  In one glass case there was an actual ‘Red Shirt’ worn by one of Garibaldi’s thousand (six of whom hailed from Rapallo, according to the exhibit catalog), a little the worse for wear, but definitely red.

Both the exhibit and the catalog,a handsome 64-page booklet chock full of photos, describe the preparations and outfitting for the voyage from Genova Quarto down to Sicilia, with special attention paid to the ships, models of which could be seen in other rooms.

The models are remarkable. Most are made from what we usually assume models will be made of: wood, bits of string and fabric, like the “Aldebaran” below by Roberto Oliveri.

But several of the boats were made from more unexpected raw material. Umberto Rogma made his models from riveted steel:


He must have a rather sophisticated work shop.  I doubt Mrs. Rogma would welcome riveting on the kitchen table.

Andrean Brown chose paper for his model medium:


In addition to being very compliant in the bending department, paper has the added advantage of being a quiet material – no pesky sawing or riveting.  But really, look at the detail – can you believe that’s all made from… paper?!

Many of the models are of particular vessels, like the famous Kon Tiki by Fulvio Fusetti:

and others are of a particular class of ship, such as this Corvette by Roberto Boniardi:

What would a model ship exhibit be without a ship in a bottle? The complexity of this construction takes my breath away. This is the ship Potosi, by Vittorio Oliveri:

Three of the models particularly captivated me. The Gozzo is the typical Ligurian fishing boat of yore. How brave the sailors were who set out  in these small boats with no Loran, radar, GPS, etc. You will still see many Gozzi in the harbors around Rapallo, but they are now used as daytime pleasure craft; the fishermen have moved on to more elaborate boats, thank goodness. This model was made by Marco Forlani.

Some of the models recreate the ships’ on-shore environs. I loved this one for all the on and off-board detail, the tools, casks and ladder lying on the beach next to the boat. Roberto Oliveri fashioned each element himself.

Luigi Barletta has shown us what the old ‘cantiere’ (ship-building works) looked like:

Could that be a Gozzo under construction?

These are just a few of the many, many models that were on exhibit. The show is over for this year but it will almost certainly return next year. If you’re in the neighborhood of the Castello at the right time, do go see it. It’s free and it’s wonderful.

Giovanni Castagneto

23 Thursday Oct 2008

Posted by in History, Italian men, People, Uncategorized

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Giovanni Castagneto, aged 87, died on Sunday.

He was already an old man when we met him.  We caught glimpses of his sister (she of the long skirts and kerchiefed head) and of him from time to time when we moved to San Maurizio, but it wasn’t until we’d been here for about 5 years that Giovanni decided it was safe to make our acquaintance.

There was a knock on the door one day, and there was Giovanni, paying an official call.  With him he brought two small pages, on which he had carefully written the first names of everyone in his family.  He introduced us to each in turn, lingering over the cousin, “I should have married.”

He never did take a wife, and lived always with his older sister.  She never took to us, at least not to the point of actually meeting us.  But then, she had not had his cosmopolitan experiences.

Giovanni served in the Italian Army during World War II.  He was sent to Russia, where he suffered terrible hardships during the failed winter siege of Stalingrad.  (You can read about the Italian Army’s Russian misadventures here). We don’t know what befell Giovanni in Russia, but we know this: he walked back to Italy. That’s a hike of 2,680 kilometers (1,665 miles), undertaken in appalling conditions.  In his old age it was those battles and that long walk home that filled his mind.  Whenever we met, the conversation invariably turned to Russia. He would get a distant look in his eye and say, “I was in Russia,” almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself.  Was he 8th Army? Alpino?  We don’t know, the conversation never got beyond the fact that he’d walked back, that most of those walking with him died on the journey, and that it was cold winter.

Giovanni was, in the years we knew him, a contadino.  He took care of his vines, his olive trees, his chickens and his garden.  He was too old to be a fast worker, but he was steady and efficient.  And he was generous.  Frequently we would open our door to find a little basket filled with grapes or figs, or just some flowers.  Whenever he gave us something we’d try to use it in a way we could share with him.  Grapes became grape jam (not the staple here that it is in the US), erba Luisa (lemon verbena) became liquor.  It was the only way we could think of to repay his kindnesses.  That and when, as always happened, a conversation turned to Russia, showing honest interest and a truly felt amazement at the transformative experience of his life. I wonder if, as he drifted away at the last, he was once again in a snow-blind day putting one foot in front of the other, walking home.

Roadkill

28 Monday Jul 2008

Posted by in History, Italy, Liguria, Photographs, Uncategorized

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No, no pictures of dead animals here, I promise, so read on…

And why are there no pictures? There is little roadkill here, that’s why. It always shocks me when I go back to the States and see so many dead animals on the road, from small (squirrels) to huge (deer, moose). And how frequently the almost sweet, almost sickening smell of skunk wafts over the highway during a summer evening’s drive in New England, becoming suffocating as you get near the poor corpse on the side of the road.

Here if you see something that you perceive from a distance to be roadkill it will be one of the following, given in order of likelihood: litter (still a lot, but becoming less), a bit of foliage, squashed fruit (yesterday’s sighting: a watermelon!), an oily rag or discarded halter top. Very rarely you will see a dead animal. I’ve seen several hedgehogs on our mountain road, as well as snakes, and several cats and one dog on the autostradas. Once we saw someone’s white specialty pigeon with a fanned out turkey type tail flouncing stupidly along the side of the road. Sadly it was hit by the time we got back, and we spent weeks kicking ourselves for not rescuing it on our way into town instead of assuming it would be smart enough to fly home.

But as you can see, if we can remember specific incidents there are not many of them. I’ve asked myself why this is and here’s my theory, completely unsupported by any external evidence or corroboration: I think all the   small animals from the woods around here were eaten during the War, and they’ve never re-established themselves. (Having said that, there are plenty of wild boar – and you wouldn’t want to hit one of them – they’re HUGE – but they were introduced to the area 10 or 15 years ago).

I won’t belabor this WWII theme, or I’ll try not to – but it is something I think about frequently. It’s impossible for those of us born safely after that war, or Korea or Vietnam, to imagine the deprivation suffered by the people who are now Italy’s oldest citizens.

Here’s a pictorial example. The Captain and I had business in the town hall of Zoagli, our neighboring village, last week. They have an exhibition of photos from the December 27, 1943, Allied bombing of the railway bridge there (Happy New Year, everyone!). I can’t give attribution because I couldn’t figure out who took the photos, but I took pictures of them anyway – sorry, they are pics of pics and of poor quality, but interesting anyway. Compare the 1943 photos above of the town center and the railroad bridge to those of the same places taken last Friday, 65 years latter, below.  Perhaps if our town looked like the one above we would take to the hills in search of food…

Zoagli town center today

Zoagli bridge today