In the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies 10 – The Big Finish

©Nigel Summerley

 

There was just one thing I intended not to miss on the road trip across Sicily: a night out at the Teatro Greco in Syracuse.

Happily, journey's end coincided with the last days of this year's festival of ancient drama and the chance to see an epic performance of Fedra – based on a Greek play by Euripides, but here delivered in full-blown Italian.

The amphitheatre has been on this spot for around 2,500 years, and the likes of Euripides and Aeschylus originally had their plays performed here way back. 

The place can seat about 15,000 and was getting pretty full by the time the show started.

It was not a comfortable evening – either for bottoms, squashed onto the hard terraces, or for the emotions, since, as is the way with classic tragedies, there weren't too many of the main characters left standing by the end.

What would Euripides have made of the rock stadium lighting, spooky special effects and over-the-top staging? He probably would have loved it all... The 21st-century crowd, including me, certainly did. 

©Nigel Summerley

©Nigel Summerley

©Nigel Summerley

In the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies 9 –Strings Attached

 

Museo dei Pupi  ©Nigel Summerley

Ortigia, the old heart of Syracuse, is joined to the mainland city by bridges and maintains its own ecccentric identity. 

Among its many attractions are the Museo dei Pupi (Puppet Museum), a tribute to the fact that puppetry has ancient historical roots here.

The museum and its motionless inhabitants seem to be tinged with a certain melancholy, not least in the case of a boy with an unusually long and pointy nose – in fact, a puppet of a puppet.

Yes, this is Pinocchio, the wooden toy who, in Carlo Collodi's classic story, wanted to be a real boy.

The puppeteering Vaccaro brothers, Saro and Alfredo, also had a dream, back in the middle of the 20th century, to stage their own version of Pinocchio. Saro made the puppets and Alfredo was the script man.

With the growing popularity of the Disney movie of the same name, they thought their luck was in – but of course, it wasn't. They devised their performance around using the music soundtrack from the movie to enhance their show, but they were soon made aware that they would have to pay royalties. They couldn't afford either the royalties or possible legal action, and in the end that brought the curtain down on their Pinocchio.

As an explanatory note in the museum next to the Vaccaros' original aged puppets preserved here explains: "Pinocchio together with his friends were unused. Little by little, their colours and smiles vanished, covered under a veil of dust."

Pinocchio and friends  ©Nigel Summerley

In the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies 8 – Falcone and Borsellino

As true fans of Inspector Montalbano [see previous post] will know, there is a strong link between his career and the assassination of magistrate Giovanni Falcone. If you don't know it, you need to check out the equally excellent prequel series, Young Montalbano.

Falcone – like Montalbano to a degree – rubbed up against the Mafia but in a much more intense and dangerous way in the all too real world. His campaign to bring the godfathers and mobsters to justice led inevitably to his being blown away in an horrendous bombing near Palermo.

A similar fate soon overtook his fellow magistrate and friend Paolo Borsellino in the city itself.

The gruesome deaths of Falcone and Borsellino seemed to help Sicily turn a corner and to start standing up to the Mafia. 

And today the two men are commemorated as martyrs to their cause.

It seemed important to visit the tomb of Falcone in Palermo's San Domenico church – even though the awful truth is that there was nothing left of him to bury.

Falcone's tomb  ©Nigel Summerley

A lovely image of him and Borsellino decorates a tall building near the Palermo waterfront: two smiling men united in fighting a war that they well knew would most likely lead to their deaths.

Heroes are so often in short supply... but that is what these men were.

Immortalised: Falcone and Borsellino  ©Nigel Summerley

In the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies 7 – Montalbano's Manor

©Nigel Summerley

The finest TV cop series? For me it has to be Inspector Montalbano. And if you have ever watched and enjoyed it, you will know there are myriad reasons why it's the very best.

The star of the show, however, could reasonably be said to be... Sicily.

Apart from the storylines, the characters, the acting, the humour, the darkness and the frailty of human beings, there is this amazing land, filmed with love and high drama.

It's no wonder that fans are drawn to visit the series' locations... and I readily confess that I was too.

I first saw the town hall in the bustling town of Scicli (aka Vigata police HQ) in the early evening, when it was surrounded by so many people that I couldn't even begin to get close or take a picture.

So next morning I was up extremely early to have the place to myself... except for one other man loitering in the shadows. As I began taking pictures of "Montalbano's police station", the Italian man emerged (shaven-headed, shades, smart clothes) and asked if I would take a picture of him on his phone.

'Of course," I said. "Where?"

He might have looked like Montalbano but he seemed shy.

"Here is fine," he said, remaining seated under a tree.

I took the picture and then he cut to the chase.

"One more here," he said, moving swiftly to the front of the imposing building.

"Ah! Montalbano!" I said.

He nodded.

I took the perfect shot of him looking like the legendary inspector outside the legendary building.

And then, when he had gone, I confess I took a selfie in exactly the same place – and for pretty much the same reason.

I didn't look as cool as the Italian guy I had photographed. But it felt pretty good to be here on this almost hallowed ground.

©Nigel Summerley

In the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies 6 – With A Gong In My Heart

 

If Piana degli Albanesi is a world within a world in Sicily [see previous post], then the Adler Spa near Agrigento is yet another – but a very different one.

Pull off the dusty south coast highway and within a few minutes you are in a green and manicured enclave, where healthy, wealthy couples stroll to and fro in beige robes – like members of some exclusive cult, which perhaps in a way they are.

Highlights of a brief stay here included swimming in the cold water pool – least popular of the three on site – and being invited to a gong bath, the latter being a surprisingly stimulating experience.

Once we were all comfortably settled on rows of loungers, our gong hostess, Angela, asked us to close our eyes and then began.

First came the soothing sound of a rain shaker but we fairly swiftly moved on to the big stuff. A crescendo of gong strokes sent wave after wave of good (and powerful) vibrations right through every part of the body. All accurate sense of time was lost but the session seemed to go on and on – in a most welcome way. It was utterly relaxing yet totally invigorating.

The Adler Spa has such an "international" feel that you could really be anywhere – the staff tend to speak Americanese rather than Italian. But if you need the real Sicily, it's still there on the doorstep...

www.adler-sicilia.com

In the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies 5 – It's Italy, But Not As We Know It

 

© Nigel Summerley

Imagine being able to walk through a door in Italy and find yourself in Greece... For me, a lover of both, it sounds like a win-win.

And it's possible to do it (sort of) in the northern Sicilian town of Piana degli Albanesi.

Enter the church of San Giorgio and you are confronted with the starkly beautiful frescos (pictured above) and icons (below) of the Orthodox church, a world away from the often over-the-top decor of Italian Catholicism.

The reason for this anomaly is that Albanian refugees from the Ottoman Empire settled in this area from the 15th century onwards, bringing with them and preserving the Byzantine rites.

Because of this, the settlement was long known as Piana dei Greci, the name only being changed to Piana degli Albanesi in 1941 by Mussolini.

The Albanesi kept not only their religious practices but also their customs and language – which all help make the town a rare and fascinating experience. It's half an hour's drive south of Palermo but very much set in another time and place.

© Nigel Summerley

In the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies 4 – Market Forces

©Nigel Summerley

Palermo's La Vucciria market has changed a lot since Renato Guttuso painted his genuinely iconic picture of it [see this blog – An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Midnight in Sicily, 7 March 2021].

That image – probably not Guttuso's best but certainly his best known – crops up all over Vucciria. 

Everywhere you go, you will get a different story about the painting and what it represents. According to some, the artist put himself in it – some say as a young man, some say as an old man. They also say he included images of his wife and his mistress. But no one seems to know for sure whom those enigmatic figures represent...

The original is there for you to contemplate and draw your own conclusions at the Palazzo Chiaramonte, aka the Steri.

What is not in doubt is that Guttuso depicted a stunning cornucopia of foodstuffs for sale. But today the market has become a tourist magnet, with T-shirts, souvenirs and handbags taking the place of fish, fruit and vegetables.

And if you walk through the area at night, you will find yet another Vucciria: a dark, pulsating party alive with dancing, music, drinking and human noise, as if the place has entered another, wilder universe.

If Guttuso were to paint this contemporary nocturnal Vucciria, it would be very, very different from his original – but definitely just as sensual.