martedì 26 aprile 2011

Habemus Papam

Lunedì sera al cinema. Si va a vedere il nuovo film di Nanni Moretti, Habemus Papam. Vi premetto che non sono un critico cinematografico e che questo è il primo film di Moretti che mi vedo per intero (ho dovuto superare profondi pregiudizi familiari), quindi siete liberi di non ascoltare o condividere neanche una parola di quelle che scriverò.
Habemus Papam vale tutti i 5 euro di biglietto. Prima di tutto, perché tratta di un argomento originale, in modo originale. Non avevo mai pensato al papa come a una figura umana che può avere dubbi sulle responsabilità del proprio potere temporale (e spirituale). Il papa di Moretti mi ha ricordato il personaggio di Giorgio VI del film Il Discorso del Re. Non per la balbuzie, ma per la profondità psicologica che caratterizza entrambi i personaggi, uomini di potere che hanno paura e non sono pronti ad assumersi le responsabilità della carica che sono chiamati a ricoprire.
Moretti analizza il Vaticano con ironia. Un mondo tagliato fuori dalla realtà, fatto di ambienti puliti, camicie stirate poste sul letto, colazioni abbondanti, partite di pallavolo e uomini vecchi. Si tira un sospiro di sollievo quando la telecamera si sposta all'esterno. Si nota subito la netta differenza con la Roma di tutti i giorni, fatta di sporcizia, traffico, gente che si ignora a vicenda e pazzi che ripetono Checov da soli nei corridoi degli alberghi. Ma è una Roma viva e che si nutre delle problematiche umane.
Moretti delinea la grande differenza che esiste fra due teatri. Quello vero, di Checov, fatto di attori squinternati e sogni. E quello del Vaticano, che sembra perfetto, ma è in realtà caratterizzato da una profonda crisi identitaria.
Habemus Papam forse è un po' lento, ma ha una bella fotografia, dalle sceneggiature imponenti (dopotutto, è ambientato dentro al Vaticano, anche se non quello vero). Divertenti i momenti in cui Moretti appare sullo schermo, lo psicanalista ateo che prende in giro i poveri vecchietti della Chiesa e butta lì commenti piccanti lasciati cadere nel vuoto (la Bibbia conterrebbe tutti i sintomi della depressione).
Un ottimo lunedì sera quindi. Lo consiglio anche a voi!

Per vedere il trailer di Habemus Papam, cliccate qui.
E se avete visto il film e crediate che abbia scritto cazzate, lasciate commenti!

Presentazione "Dal Punto di Vista di Giulia"

Giovedì 28 aprile 2011, ore 19:00
presenterò il mio libro
"Dal Punto di Vista di Giulia"
alle Biblioteca Borghesiana
Largo Monreale, Roma

Spero di vedervi lì!

venerdì 22 aprile 2011

Beyond The Glass

Here, the triangle of sky

I have been staring for years; in between
lines of poems, textbooks, letters.
The deep blue where my eyes found rest.

The anonymous dome on the way to your house,

the mountains further away. The imaginary line
ploughed by planes.
Have you ever seen it?

Cubes of buildings, shafts of sunlight,

fronds of plane trees. The comforting sound
of sirens. The world so far
away. Have I ever loved it?

Saluti da..


alla Caffarella con Carlo!

mercoledì 20 aprile 2011

lunedì 18 aprile 2011

Campo, early afternoon

Early afternoon in Campo.
Piles of trash on the cobblestone, smashed tomatoes
and oranges. Artichoke leaves.
Street cleaners dragging wooden crates. A garbage truck
chomping leftovers.

Pidgeons zigzagging among sweeping brooms, fearless.
A seagull stares from the top
of Bruno's head.
Sitting at the tables, smoking cigarettes, sipping wine and coffee,
tourists playing a Roman holiday.

Late afternoon in Campo.
White clouds mirrored on windows and
Ape windshields,
blown nowere. Laughs, chats, exhales.
The piazza prepares for the night.

giovedì 7 aprile 2011

Bad Moon Rising

Chiara woke up at four thirty with a buzzing headache. The afternoon sun seeped through the shutters with a powerful insistence, enough to envelope the tiny apartment with a soft light. Drowsily, Chiara opened one eye and the first thing she saw was the inconsistent flecks of dust dancing in a tube of light. The sunray ended on the only chipped tile close to her bed. Out in the street, right under her window, a garbage man noisily dragged a plastic trash can on the san pietrini, while whistling a jingle she remembered listening to a million times on the radio.

Music. She hated it. Mozart, Dylan, Battisti, the Beatles, Mannarino. All of them. Their songs had the power to shape her mood more than the weather or the 628 bus running late. She found it unbearable. She would feel like conquering the world, then listen to Dylan’s The Times Are a-changin’ and feel a lump in her throat two minutes later. That was why her iPod was buried deep inside one of her drawers. She hadn’t used it for years.

With a faint grunt, Chiara rubbed her temples and gave a look at the clock on her night table. She had slept for seven hours but her headache seemed willing to prove the opposite. She spread her arms across the double bed and touched the cold sheets close to her side. Her right hand landed on a package of cigarettes. She grabbed one mechanically and brought it to her lips. She lit it and inhaled a long drag. The smoke climbed up in the air twisting in a sophisticated and intangible arabesque. The room became as misty as the Roman forum at sunrise, a spectacle she had seen so many times while coming back home.

To keep reading the story, click here.

The Ordine dei Giornalisti: what it is, what it does

In short, the Ordine dei Giornalisti (ODG) is a corporation. A state-approved Order of Journalists that regulates Italy’s journalism by imposing membership on anyone who wants to work in the field as a professional. The Ordine as we know it today was created by law in 1963, but the idea of it is rooted in the 19th century, when the Associazione della Stampa Periodica Italiana (Association of Italian Periodical Press) was founded in 1877. Back then, the Association divided the profession into three categories: the so-called effettivi (full-time journalists), the pubblicisti (part-time journalists who were allowed to have other jobs as well), and the frequentatori (periodical contributors of the cultural and political world). Today’s divisions remain pretty much the same.
The actual forerunner of the ODG was instituted in 1928, during the fascist era. The Royal Decree 384 created the so-called Albo dei giornalisti, a register still existing today of all journalists in Italy. Again, the register was divided into three categories: the professionisti (journalists who had been working full-time for at least 18 months), the pubblicisti (paid journalists who had other jobs, too), and the praticanti (full-time journalists who hadn’t been working for at least 18 months or were not yet 21).
The 1928 organization is very similar to today’s ODG. The main difference was that back then, under Benito Mussolini’s regime, the Albo was directly controlled by the Fascist Union and the Minister of Justice. Therefore, it wasn’t independent, but politically controlled. As Paolo Murialdi states in his Storia del Giornalismo Italiano, in 1928, with the creation of the Albo, an additional removal of “disloyal” journalists took place. Hence, the register and the corporatist division of the category were used by Mussolini as additional means of controlling the press.
After the fall of the fascist regime in 1943, the Federazione della Stampa (Press Federation) could either abolish the existent organization, or accept it and apply minor changes. The latter is what the Federazione went for. In 1944, the Commissione Unica (Single Commission) was created – a provisional central self-governing body that was actually kept until 1963, when today’s Ordine dei Giornalisti was founded. Therefore, the law 69/1963, which still regulates Italy’s journalistic profession today, in 2011, derives directly from a fascist law created in 1928.
The 1963 law provides for the division of the Albo into two categories: the professionisti (full-time journalists) and the pubblicisti (paid part-time journalists who also have other jobs). In order to become full-time professionals, aspiring journalists must pass an oral and a written exam. The ODG sets a code of conduct for its adherents and has the power to censor, suspend and strike members off the Albo in case they have damaged the “professional dignity” of the organization. The Ordine also advises the Minister of Justice about possible laws concerning the regulation of the journalistic profession and sets the amount of money each member must pay to the corporation on a yearly basis.
A corporatist state-approved association like the ODG exists only in Italy. In the rest of the world, the journalistic profession is not regulated and limited by any organization. Journalists set up their own associations and unions, such as the National Union of Journalists (in the UK and Ireland) or the Canadian Association of Journalists. These organizations are self-regulated like the ODG but they are not under the supervision of the Minister of Justice, nor do they require mandatory membership in order for one to practice journalism.

domenica 3 aprile 2011

venerdì 1 aprile 2011

Interview with Mauro Piccoli: How journalism has changed in Italy

As we walk into a small room on the fifth floor of one of the newsrooms of La Repubblica, in Via Cristoforo Colombo, Rome, I notice that Mauro Piccoli doesn’t look like a retired man. Yes, his hair is gray and his face lined with experience. But there is a shiny sparkle in his eyes, which is still young and lively. I feel at my ease with him, even when we sit opposite each other in a bare, grayish room. A table is in between us. A few meters away, a small, unused desk hosts an aged computer. The screen is off.

As I turn on my recorder, Piccoli coughs slightly and I plunge into our conversation about the changes of journalism. Piccoli nods confidently as I talk about the Internet and I touch on some of the variations and developments of the print media. He waits for me to finish, then he takes control of the conversation and he finally puts some order into my confused thoughts.

To keep reading this article, click here.