The Homeless

There seemed to be a certain unsettling theme to this past Sunday in Palermo:  the Homeless. It was not an intentional theme - the day was bright and sunny, a bit cool in the shade but pleasant; people were out enjoying themselves, window shopping, strolling, going to mass then to lunch. We were amongst the people enjoying the day - nothing really planned other than Sunday lunch then later in the afternoon an opera at the magnificent, if sadly neglected, Teatro Massimo.  But the image of the homeless raised its head twice during the day.

The Greek Passion is an opera I had heard of but never seen and to be honest other than one symphony (the 4th) I heard last year in London at the urging of my friend David of I'll Think of Something Later I was not familiar with much of Bohuslav Martinů's work. When he heard I was going to see Greek Passion David told me I was in for something special - and as always he was right. It was one of the most emotional performances I have attended in a long while.  The orchestral and choral writing are superb, the performances was moving and totally committed and the staging, with a few caveats, exceptional.  And the emotional impact was overwhelming.  I am quite ready to admit I was on the verge of tears several times during the performance.

Based on Nikos Kazantzakis' Christ Recrucified it tells of the impact that the ritual of a traditional Passion Play and  the arrival of a group of refugees fleeing ethnic persecution have on the life of a small Greek village.  The arrival of these homeless people, though fellow Greeks, brings a less than welcoming response from the priest and leaders of the village but a compassionate response from the people chosen to represent Christ and his followers in the play.  Sadly once again the chief priests and pharisees triumph and the refugees are finally driven away - homeless once again. 

But that image of the homeless had appeared earlier in the day as we were strolling through the garden of Piazza Castelnuovo.  There in a bronze grouping by the Sicilian sculptor Pasqualle Civeletti were the homeless of another time and another place.  Italy of the 19th century - the streets of Palermo or perhaps Napoli or even one of the prosperous northern cities.  The figures of two lost boys sit in the middle of the terrace of the garden mostly ignored by passers by and badly scarred by graffiti.  They carry the simple title I Senza Tetto - the Homeless.

I Senza Tetto (The Homeless)  by Pasqualle Civeletti in the garden of the Piazza Castelnuovo has as powerful a message today as it did when he created it.

It took some time to find out anything about this piece - because of the graffiti I had trouble from my photo making out the signature of the artist. When I finally did what little information there was in English centered on the statue of Verdi that Civeletti and his older brother Benedetto cast for the City of New York in 1906 and little else.  An Italian search revealed a bit more: he was born in Palermo in 1858 and died there in 1952 - one can only imagine the changes he saw in his 96 years.  Though his brother was considered the major talent in the family Pasquale created many of the statues that are seen throughout the city of Palermo. The first mention I found of I Senzatetto indicates it was created in 1895 for a exhibition in Torino but the indication on the piece itself says clearly "fece 1904" - made in 1904. It is quite possible this is a copy - not an infrequent case with many bronzes. But why is it there? Who commissioned it? What is the story behind it? None of that appears to be recorded.

But what is recorded is the cold, the weariness, the hunger and the hopelessness of the two young boys. Barefoot, poorly clad, exhausted, hunched over, old before their time, their desperate state apparent even when viewed from behind - it is a powerful statement of what was seen on the streets of many countries at the time and sadly can still be seen in our own times. 

It was difficult to make out Civiletti's signature with all the graffiti that has disfigured it over the years.  A sad state for what is, to my mind at least, a work that deserves to be better seen and thought upon.

I would be fascinated to find out what inspired Civeletti to create the piece - a commission? a social conscience? or just an exercise in his art?  And I also wonder why it has been allowed to reach the state that it is in today - neglected except by pranksters and  love sick swains bent on expressing their love for Angelica.  What ever Civeletti's purpose the message is one that deserves to be better seen and better cared for. 


10 maggio - Santi Alfio, Cirino e Filadelfo

L'Opre dei Pupi

I've been fascinated by puppets since I was about 4 years old when my brother bought me my first glove puppet and my father made me a theatre so I could bore present puppet shows at family gatherings.  I remember that theatre to this day - a Punch and Judy-like affair, three sided, painted blue with a curtain made from an old apron of my mother's.  I graduated to more elaborate affairs which led to fully staged plays - The Emperor and the Nightengale was a favourite - where I bored entertained  at church socials.

A few of the many rod puppets - knights, Kings, Saracens, Ogres and Spirits that make up the characters of the traditional Tales of Orlando presented by the Cuticchio family at their puppet theatre in Palermo.

I became enthralled by the world of puppetry - marionettes, shadows, rod and glove - though I was never able to master the marionettes: all those strings and coordination was never my forte. Since those days I have never missed an opportunity to see a puppet theatre - Salzburg, Bangkok, Hanoi - anywhere that it was considered part of the national tradition.

The great hero Orlando (Roland) is girded for battle and since the Risorgimento has worn a sash bearing the tri-colour of the united Italy.

Another one of my early fascinations were the Crusader myths of Orlando (Roland) - I still have in my library a copy of a translation of the Ariosto's Orlando Furioso that I read in my early teens.  Those Italian adaptations of the doings of the French knight and his cohorts as they battled Saracens, Demons and Evil Enchantresses in the East were great adventure stories and had everything - battles, daring deeds, sex, romance and even a touch of religion. I only wish I could read them - and La Comedia Divina -  in the original Italian  for the full poetry

The three main characters of the Paladin stories: Orlando (Roland) Brademante (the most powerful of the female Christian Warriors) and her brother Rinaldo. Since the 1850s their plumes have reflected the tri-colour - green, white and red.

Those two  interests meet in the Pupi tradition of Sicily - the elaborate rod puppets that tell the story of the Frankish hero and his co-horts.  The tradition of the "cunto" or story teller is an old one in many cultures - the bard who passed on the legends and stories of the past.  Sicily was no exception and there it evolved into the stories being retold with the help of rod puppets.  Eventually the puppets became more elaborate and the role of the cunto diminished.  In the 1950-60s the traditional art of Sicilian rod puppetry was in danger of disappearing.  However the Cuticchio family - which had passed the tradition down from father to son - kept it alive and their Teatro dell'Opera dei Pupi on via Bara all'Olivella in Palermo is now recognized as a national treasure.  Massimo Cuticchio has revived the art of the "cunto" and often in his presentation the story teller is the focal point of the pieces and is surrounded by the puppet characters.   Though he has branched out into other stories the traditional Paladin plays are still central to the Teatro's work.

Massimo Cuticchio - both a master cunto or story teller and puppeteer - repairing a Christian knight in his workshop near his family's Museo and Teatro in Palermo.

The Making of a Paladin Knight

The puppet body and head are carved from hard wood following a traditional pattern always with the right hand in the position of grasping a sword and fitted with an eye to hold the second control rod, the left, which hangs loose, is carved to hold a shield.  The heavy central rod is inserted through the head with a hook to attach it to the torso.  Limbs are joined to the torso with metal at stress points and with fabric to give flexibility and allow for the traditional movements of battle. 

Meanwhile armour has been cut out of  a heavy gauge tin again to a traditional pattern.  The 52 pieces required to make a complete set are then bent, tooled and embossed with heraldic devises that indicate the personage they represent.  The fighting can get athletic and often fierce in the stage battle so armour is often dented or even cut and is constantly being repaired or replaced.

Elaborately designed and colourful clothing - again design and colour are used to signify the character being portrayed - are made in the theatre workshop. Notice that only the parts that will not be covered by armour are clothed - both for the sake of flexibility and economy.

Finally the rod that controls movements of the sword arm is put in place.  Though there are only two major control rods strings are used to manoeuvre the shield and leg positions.

The positions and movements of the puppets are as dictated by tradition as the costumes and action. There are four basic attitudes that characters assume as the story is declaimed by the puppeteers sometimes in the voice of the character but more often as the "cunto" or story teller.

Most of the photos are from il teatro di Mimmo Cuticchio by Chiara Andrich, a marvelous book published by the Associazone Figli d'arete Cuticchio, recounting the history of the Teatro, the family and the new directions that Mimmo Cuticchio has taken the tradition of Sicilian puppetry.  And many of the details were gleaned in conversation with a charming lady at the small Museo connected to the Teatro.  She promised me that when I return to Palermo in May there would be a good chance I would finally get to see the puppets in action and hear Massimo recount, once again, the story of Orlando, his love for the faithless Angelica and the adventures of the Paladin knights.


27 febbraio - San Gabriele dell'Addorata