The Year of Living Languidly
The Queen, dubbed 1992 her Annus Horribilis. Little did she know how much worse things could get.
On a wild hair, early in the morning in early February of this year I hopped on the train from Barga to Pisa to take in the last day of the Futurism exhibit at Palazzo Blu, a stunning comprehensive show of an avant-garde Art movement documenting enormous global changes. 111 years, almost to the day, after the Italian poet Filippo Tommaso Marinetti published his Manifesto of Futurism in La gazzetta dell’Emilia, The Futurismo show at Palazzo Blu presented a panorama of its themes documenting global changes, the impact of the industrial revolution, early aeronautics, and man vs. machines, in all of its glory and destructiveness, pandemics notwithstanding.
There was also a small permanent exhibit of the splendid 17th C. Italian painter Artemisia Gentileschi, not to be missed. Her groundbreaking and gender defying work is only now being shown collectively and appreciated fully as represented by the exhibit at the National Gallery in London, which was planned for this past spring but postponed until its planned opening beginning 2 December, all things being well. A documentary, entitled Warrior Paintress, of her life and work has just been released by Jordan River of Delta Star Pictures.
After picnicking and people watching in a piazza near the station I caught another train for Viareggio to catch the magnificent Carnevale Parade and its monumental floats of monstrous global social themes from corrupt politicians to gender inequality, technological mayhem and climate change.
It was a gloriously clear winter day as is often the case in February and news of the Coronavirus was just beginning to spread and I wondered if it had been wise to be in such a crowded environment but it wasn’t, in fact, as crowded as It had been in past years.
That was just about my last outing as not only the news but also the reality of the coronavirus began to spread soon afterwards. By late February rumors of a lockdown period began to spread as well and by early March we were indeed confined to our homes with increasingly strict regulations which ultimately resulted in a full lockdown including businesses.
As the virus spread so did the despair. The spring passed listlessly inventing indoor activities or staring out the window. Most developed a coping strategy. The nadir included on March 21 watching television footage of Army vehicles transporting coffins from Bergamo, but Barga was spared the worst.
In early May we were released but masks became the norm. Summer passed calmly and quietly. In early June expats with homes here could return and many did, by car. Flights to Pisa and Florence resumed in early July and more people arrived. The low key unhurried atmosphere picked up a little in August when there were successful socially distanced events throughout the summer including Barga Jazz in a new delightful outdoor venue at Villa Gherardi and Opera Barga ingeniously adapting the area above Piazza San Felice. Things almost seemed back to normal, or at least the new normal, masks, hygiene routines and hope.
As the summer came to an end the virus began to spread once more, resulting in a new partial lockdown in mid November. Once again the days pass inventing indoor projects, on the internet or languidly staring out the window, fortunately out on a splendid cold clear November. On the bright side there is hope on the horizon, things will get better and the best thing we can say is that there is a future to look forward to, and a show and documentary on Artemisia Gentileschi.
