Italian Stories
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Giacomo Leopardi’s Il Sabato del villaggio – Village Saturday
La donzelletta vien dalla campagna, In sul calar del sole, Col suo fascio dell’erba; e reca in mano Un mazzolin di rose e di viole, The maiden returns from the meadows, At setting of sun, Bringing her bundle of herbs; and in hand, A garland of roses and violets, Onde, siccome suole, Ornare ella si appresta Dimani, al dì di festa, il petto e il crine. And, as is custom, The next day, she prepares and adorns For the festival, her breast and her hair. Siede con le vicine Su la scala a filar la vecchierella, Incontro là dove si perde il giorno; E novellando vien del suo buon tempo,…
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Alessandro Manzoni’s Farewell to Como
It’s no accident that Italy used to be many countries, as we discovered on a recent road trip around northern Italy. Even that subset of Italian landscapes is full of stunning contrasts. Mountains and sea and thousands of years of diverse horticulture create different environments wherever you go. The climate on the east of the Italian peninsula is drier and different to that on the west. The north is more influenced by the climate of the continent and the Alps. The south is bathed in Mediterranean waves and the Sirocco wind from the Sahara. Of course much is shared, and the swallows are certainly unfazed by such changes. For them…
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The sparkling Duomo in the darkness
Stone outlined in green and rose and white As if a paper cut out of a giant’s hand As if the stone itself glows with inner light Tourists, unthinking, circumambulating this glimmering Kaaba Like them, I am in awe, shivering at its wonder Tier upon tier, panel upon panel drawing eye upward Into lost and questioning darkness above This endless flow of humanity, come to worship its beauty Do we do well to come here? And in the beauty, do we find some echo of the nameless? Do we see the price paid for its making? The darkness hidden in the light? The craftsmen who made it are gone now…
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Behind the scenes interview: Juliet is dead: Romeo’s Lost Scene
In the video below, director filmmaker Rhianna Spooner and author/translator Michael Curtotti talk about Juliet is Dead: Romeo’s Lost Scene: the new release short film dramatising a lost scene from the Romeo and Juliet story. That scene never made it into Shakespeare’s play. The video includes behind the scenes footage from the film shoot with J.K Kazzi and Gabriel Alvarado. An edited interview transcript (not including the behind the scenes footage in the video) is provided below. Introduction Hi, my name’s David Curry. I’m coming to you from Ngunnawal and Ngamberri country, Canberra. I’m very excited to be part of this launch of Juliet is Dead: Romeo’s Lost Scene. So…
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Juliet is dead! In world first, Australian team films lost historical Romeo scene.
Press Release: Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet has long entranced audiences worldwide, but what if there’s more to the story? In a groundbreaking first, an Australian team unveils a powerful scene from Matteo Bandello’s overlooked original Italian version, Romeo and Giulietta, which Shakespeare adapted. “Even though Romeo and Juliet is set in Verona, most people don’t know it’s an Italian story,” explains Italian-Australian author Michael Curtotti, who recently unveiled a fresh English translation of Matteo Bandello’s narrative. “It’s like appreciating Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings without acknowledging JRR Tolkien. Within Bandello’s rendition lies a trove of narrative richness that was left on the cutting room floor.” Led by director Rhianna…
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The Infinite – Giacomo Leopardi
Sempre caro mi fu quest’ermo colle,e questa siepe, che da tanta partedell’ultimo orizzonte il guardo esclude. Ever dear to me has been this empty knoll, And this hedgerow, which walls away so muchOf that last horizon from my sight. Ma sedendo e mirando, interminatispazi di là da quella, e sovrumanisilenzi, e profondissima quïeteio nel pensier mi fingo; ove per pocoil cor non si spaura. E come il ventoodo stormir tra queste piante, io quelloinfinito silenzio a questa vocevo comparando: e mi sovvien l’eterno,e le morte stagioni, e la presentee viva, e ‘l suon di lei. Così tra questaimmensità s’annega il pensier mio:e ‘l naufragar m’è dolce in questo mare. But…
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Giacomo Leopardi’s Alla Luna – To the Moon
O graziosa luna, io mi rammento O friend, o gracious moon, once more returns to mind Che, or volge l’anno, sovra questo colle Io venia pien d’angoscia a rimirarti: E tu pendevi allor su quella selva Siccome or fai, che tutta la rischiari. The turning of the year, when over this wooded knoll, I came, full of pain, admiring thee: And there you hung over that wood And then, as now, everything bathed in light. Ma nebuloso e tremulo dal pianto Che mi sorgea sul ciglio, alle mie luci Il tuo volto apparia, che travagliosa Era mia vita: ed è, né cangia stile, O mia diletta luna. Yet clouded and tremulous from the…
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Othello and Desdemona: An Italian novella of murder and manipulation
Until you read the stories that Shakespeare read, it’s difficult to fully understand the plays he wrote. This is the tale of a particular story he read: the Italian novella which inspired Othello. Shakespeare adapted its plot to the stage, and like Romeo and Juliet, he made it world famous. To Shakespeare, Othello was the most important person in the tale. For the author of the novella however, Desdemona was the heart of the story. For the novella focusses on hatred of a woman. In Shakespeare’s hands the story became a play about the hatred of a man. There is much that the two stories share in common. Most of…
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The Swallows and the Buddha
Feet sink in the melting sand As paces carry me forward Along scribbled threshold between land and sea. Ahead, a mist masks an unfamiliar treeline, And beyond, fading reaches of headland. La sabbia squaglia sotto i miei piedi Mentre i passi mi portano avanti Per la soglia scarabocchiata fra terr’ e mare Avanti, una foschia maschera alberi sconosciuti E più in fondo, svanenti promontori estesi. Sad and slivery-green, the waves carry their stories ashore. Bubbled lines flee down the sandy slope, Too quickly to be read before they, Vanish forever into the sea. Far out on the water, fishing boats bob in the early morning light. Verde-argenteo e tristi, le…
