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For centuries, bigwigs have paid for paintings, having their portraits slipped in beside the saints for posterity while average locals filled in anonymously for color.
In Pisa, land of the leaning tower, the Archbishop monsignor Alessandro Plotti and Friends of Pisa Monuments and Museums Association recently decided that it was time for tax-paying citizens to participate, once again, in art.
Public casting sessions were held to find the 250 average Giovannis who will strike a pose for a fresco cycle recounting the life of Pisa's patron saint, San Ranieri. The 160 sq. meter opus (about 1,700 square feet) will decorate the church of St. Vito, where the protector of travelers is said to have died in 1161.
Naturally, there a few roles set aside for notable locals. Newspaper editor Francesco Carrassi will star as the monk who converts a barely 19-year-old Ranieri from music-loving scamp into a penitent, hairshirt-sporting holy man, played by Pisan actor Roberto Farnesi. (A familiar face for Americans used to admiring him as the drool-producing chef in English-language Barilla ads).
Other cameos include fencing champs Salvatore Sanzo and Simone Vanni while boxer Dario Cicchello will help row a boat with the saint inside ashore; the mayor, Archbishop, culture councilor and head of the "Friends" association have already started posing.
It'd be kind of nice to see the odd bluetooth ear piece or cell phone for a touch of modernity, but artist Luca Battini has assured that he'll produce a classical fresco, using only traditional techniques.
Locals will be wearing vintage, if not properly ancient, garb used in two Franco Zeffirelli films (loaned by costume archive Fondazione Cerratelli, headed by the director) namely Romeo and Juliet (1968) and Brother Son, Sister Moon (1972) on the early life of St. Francis of Assisi.
The painting process will take three years, the fly-on-the-wall would like to know how frenetic modern types fare in those endless, silent sittings.
Even dispiriting quantities of rain couldn't put a damper on Milan Design Week: there were a record 100,000 visitors, up 20% over last year, and news reports of traffic jams, crammed parking lots and taxi lines backed up into the fair building caused organizers to extend opening times by two hours.
Where Fashion Week mostly stumbles to get locals involved, Design Week delivers by whipping up a collective hysteria for chairs, lamps and free drinks. (A few quick photos of mine, here.)
There were 380 events and installations open to the general public about town, called Fuori Salone, I kicked off the week (which despite the title lasts five days) by viewing Peter Greenaway's multi-media take on The Last Supper. (If you happen this way before May 4, it's worth scratching your head at).
Economic gloom and doom seem a long way away from huge crowds fueled by free Red Bull, Nastro Azzurro and Campari. This year in the hip Tortona zone, perusers were required to get entry badges in exchange for an email address.
On Sunday afternoon, I became number 69,125 along with whole families and those cute, loved-up couples one notices then silently despises. Projects ranged from Andrea Branzi's Living Kitchen, a compact unit with bed, bike stand, shelves, desk and fridge, to a prototype from a trio of local design students for an iron-toaster.
Still, there are some notable differences for those with a little memory of what past editions were like.
Most of the showrooms in my neighborhood played it all too safe, the space that once had design students helping anyone who walked in off the street craft cool retro toys, this year showcased just one very expensive set of Japanese bathroom fixtures.
I ducked into some other spaces to find them dedicated to carpet (as common in Italy as beef jerky) or shelves. Corso Como, mecca for fashionistas, displayed a rather tame collection of Egg chairs. My favorite venue, an ex-pelota court, was home again to Established & Sons but most of the designs looked familiar from past seasons, the real crowd-draw was the addition of a full bar instead of just free beer.
Fair organizers report that despite foreign competition, the Italian furnishing sector exported 2.3 billion euros a year, up 9% from 2007 and 19,5% from 2005.
As long as the lounging is chic, the crowds will come even if it rains copiously for almost five days in a row.
Italian politics -- with porn-star candidates, Village People rally cries and advice on how to marry a millionaire -- are never dull.
This morning, the country woke up to cappuccino, cornetti and another new government led by media mogul Silvio Berlusconi, which means the real fun and games are destined to start now.
I don't have Italian citizenship, so my suffrage is limited to standing by and agonizing from the sidelines. It'd be great to fully understand why people, and so many people, voted for Berlusconi. Not so much for his policies (which I have a feeling most would be hard pressed to elaborate since he mostly talks in empty slogans) but for the man himself.
First, there's overlooking the fact that his aesthetic adventures have turned him into a Pavarotti mini-me around the time of the tenor's curtain call, with the harsh black eyebrows and hair-from-a can of the opera villain. He looks every one of his 70-odd summers and, try as he might, is undoubtedly old school.
And he's one of the world's richest men. That I would find hard to overlook, especially since a sizable chunk of his companies (three out of six national TV stations, two newspapers, the largest publisher, the largest advertising agency and numerous internet ventures) control so much of Italian media.
How could this man have much but his own interests at heart?
Finally, there's his track record. His last round as leader, with a record five years controlling the country, did little for Italy but he did manage to pass a few laws that got him out of the legal hot seat, for more nefarious business dealings than one could cover a bottle of spray tan with.
Perhaps the alternative to Berlusconi, mild-mannered former Rome mayor Walter Veltroni, just wasn't convincing enough. Even so, I find it difficult that anyone could reason that Berlusconi is the lesser of two evils.
An Italian friend tells me bewilderment at Berlusconi's victory is misplaced. The real win is that it looks like -- for the first time since WWII -- the communists and the socialists didn't gather enough votes to get into parliament.
That's two less fractious troublemakers to stop the government from getting its business done and may mean more stability. I fear, though,that Italian politics are more like a church raffle: in the end, everyone will walk away with a little something. After all, with the highest political stipends in Europe, who can afford to be out of the game?
Lycos Italy is offering breast augmentation to a young woman in exchange for a blog account of her surgery.
Called "The Re-Birth of Venus," the site launched last week with the winning entry (not exactly a booby prize) in a contest set up for a blog-for-breasts reality site.
The winner, 33-year-old office worker Vania Zacchei, will go under the knife April 9. This week, her entries are augmented by those of her surgeon explaining the procedure and risks.
Sorry to be, uh, a bit of a downer on this one but let's lift and separate the issues here. While the glamor shot of Zacchei crowning the site already looks like an old Duran Duran album cover, it's hard not to think that she may be one of those people who is chasing some ideal that won't, in final analysis, make her more attractive.
Since the blog launched April 2, Zacchei, who in one post describes herself as a "lost puppy," has received a fair share of criticism. Her response: "anyone who criticizes people who undergo plastic surgery as victims of distorted body image should give up using all that this era offers us, super hairdressers, spas, gyms and fashionable clothes."
So in her mind, having her breasts done is the same as getting highlights or a bikini wax. But her site is scheduled to go dark for a week after surgery, meaning when she's zonked out, scared, in pain and perhaps realizing the impact of what she's done she won't have to tell anyone about it.
And if it's a serious enough operation that she can't even sit at a keyboard and type, then it's not just a question of her gaining "a new confidence" with a touch of surgical flourish, is it? She'll come back and it'll be about how she's got a "closet full of clothes that don't fit but a ton of new suitors" as she imagines now.
And another, less attractive side will probably also not come to light given the blog's limited life span (Zacchei is under contract to write until May), namely that plastic surgery is not a one-time thing and Zacchei will likely have to pay for plump-up tweaks years after her account goes dark.
The whole thing is considerably less prurient than MyFreeImplants, where aspiring D-cups chat with Johns for breast money and then write thank yous in ALL CAPS and with many exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!!!!! when they have arrived at a critical mass of funds for the op.
Perhaps detractors are just getting their Wonderbras in a twist over nothing; after all airing your "before" self in front of millions is the staple of any number of reality TV programs. The thing is, Italians are so looks-conscious that none of the makeover formats have had much success here.
Why? Well, to my mind it's because there aren't enough people willing to be outed in public as ugly. Finding the unwaxed brow (on men, I mean) or the odd ricotta-textured thigh is a chore. Even the folks who formed the world's only "ugly club" to combat the national obsession with la bella figura are, on the whole, decent looking.
And let's not forget that the "old Venus" didn't even have photoshop to enhance her.
Move over Duff beer: a red wine called "without bitterness" with a small part in a successful sitcom found a producer and debuts this week at Italy's premier wine fair, Vinitaly.
It first had a fictional cameo on "I Cesaroni," (The Cesaronis) a prime-time show airing on former Premier Silvio Berlusconi's flagship Canale 5.
It is one of a few modern shows about blended families with a Romeo-Juliet twist (like "Turkish for Beginners") -- just think "The Brady Bunch" with a little step-incest to spice things up.
Most of the actors are familiar faces -- the kind that crop up in cell-phone ads and it shows -- and while I'm not an especial fan of the rom-com there's something to be said for what may be the first TV show with a vino tie-in.
The grape got into the act in an episode that aired mid-March where gruff uncle Cesare and patriarch Giulio team up to buy a small vineyard, after a small lottery win.
The Cesare character's signature line is "che amarezza" (what bitterness) so it's fitting that the once-fictional wine was given a name, "Senz'Amarezza" that means it didn't leave a bad taste. While it's not the first time fiction crosses the line in Italy (the Nepotism game show comes to mind), at least this is positive product placement.
Respected family-run winery Cantina Cerquetta, producers since 1793, liked the idea so much they created an IGT blend of Merlot and San Giovese and a white Frascati, proving that real life sometimes goes down even smoother than fiction.
