attaliano in the west

travelling back to EU

2009-07-09T10:14:00.000-07:00

The second train from New Haven to Penn Station is about 6 or 7 cars, again quite comfortable and on time. On my laptop I watch Sokurov’s Moscow Elegy, I have never seen anything by this Russian director, I am somewhat suspicious of his fame to by mystical. I am struck by the images of Tarkosvsky in Italy that open the movie. I did not know it was a documentary. It is a paradoxical way to make my way back to Tuscany. From my backpack, I take out my three tomatoes and some pecocrino romano and have an early lunch as I watch Tonino Guerra conversing with Tarskovski. The sight of New York in the background is quite moving. As I get off, in a dustbin, I leave the knife I have been using for lunches since I got in the US. As I arrive early at the airport, it is still raining, I have a last American coffee at the Tuscany Coffee, the one nearest to the Lufthansa check in area. On all the tv screen they are showing the view from the elicopter of the place in Los Angeles where the private and family service for Michael Jackson is being held. After I check in it is instead the procession of black limousines that transports the corpse and the vips to the staples center. The commentator on CNN are amazed by the fact that the freeways have been closed for this very special convoy. The obvious comparison goes to the funerals of Elvis Presley. As I am about to board the young daughter of Michael Jackson, Paris, makes her very brief and moving speech, is she the only person with true feelings in that crowd?
As I board on the plane the speakers welcome us in German: even if I do not speak the language, I like the sound of it, and also, for reasons unclear to me, its sounds is familiar, and somehow tells me ‘welcome back home’. That’s however is the question, as an Italian song goes, la casa dov’é? At the Frankfurt airport, it is raining, I cannot resist using euros for the first time again for a cappuccino which, I know it now, stands midway between the Italian and the American ones.
As the small plane reaches the mountains, the clouds disappear, the sun is shining on the alpine lakes, some haze on the Padan Plain. I can already feel the hot July Italian sun preparing to hit me badly. Instead, south of the Po river, clouds reappear and when I land in Florence, it is warm, but it is under thirty degrees celsius, that is mild to be July.

on the way to JFK

2009-07-07T12:33:00.000-07:00

At 6 45 in the morning I am all ready and waiting for the taxi that will take me to Hartoford Union Station. Here I am, a week ago, as I traveled cross country, I had a car full of stuff, finally I managed to reduce everything to the original volume with which I had landed 6 months ago. It is impressive.
Hartford is one of the poorest cities in the US, it would be difficult to guess it from the skyscrapers that populate the downtown area. The Amtrak train station, that sits above the bus station from where I took the bus to Boston just few days ago. The place is in decay, there is only one track serving running on wooden laid track. Once this was a three platforms train station with en extra fourth track running on the outside. Now the main platform is not used and only what once was platform 2 is the only one where trains runs. As it should in a moment like this, it rains, lightly. One of the reason I chose to take the train on my way to the airport was also to try the Amtrak train, on my way up, in January I had run on Metro North, Amtrak is the national company that runs across country. When the two wagons plus the locomotive approach, I feel like sadness, this is after all the line that runs from New York to Boston, and all that is running is a couple of wagons. Nothing compared to what runs on the highways. Inside seats are equipped with sockets and you can comfortably run you laptop on the fold up table. No wireless though.

4th of July in Boston, the irish pub story

2009-07-05T06:34:00.000-07:00

The craziest thing about the day was one of the pub we stopped by with my friend T. We enter this Irish pub, 10 people in it, a sad family at one table, few men at the counter and a woman with a Red Sox bluse, nobody says a word, nobody gives us a look, the bartender does not welcome us. It is a local pub. Irish gig music is playing. If Dante's limbo in modern time can be anything, it is something similar to this, spend the eternity in an Irish pub populated by silent souls staring in the void and back to their drink. And Gaelic music. An old poster of JFK is hanging with under it a black and white photo of the JFK aircraft carrier. A Budweiser map of Ireland. a Samuel Adams old clock. a sign saying 'we proudly serve Guinness'.
After 10 minutes, however, as I am watching the dark pattern of the red bricks and mortars that compose the wall near our table, a realization takes forms in my head: this is the real thing, IRA and Sinn Fein, there are no signs but the walls still smell of them, these people are the orphans of "the cause". Who knows how many meeting, how much money has been raised on Sundays afternoons? Few minutes afterwards the confirm comes from the music, political ballads from the 1920s on Ireland and IRA come through the modern digital system. We remain for a couple of hours, paying drinks to the local, Jameson, the republican whisky of course. We play Irish songs by the Pogues, and some old ballads. The other damned souls appreciate and they rescue for us some comments and stories about being 'republican', the pub has been here throughout the 20th century and the fathers of this people dwelt here, some even tell the story of visits to Ireland in the 1970s and 1980s, stories of family, awful food, and religion that possess a powerful scent, coming from another century.

4th of July morning, from the bus

2009-07-04T06:22:00.000-07:00

My day starts at 830 with a taxi ride from farmington to Hartford Union station, with a Pakistani driver who does not bucle the belt. He has been in the US for 20 years he tells me, but he complains: no matter how much money you make, no social life. I ask if he has tried to go back to his country, two times, he answers, but with no success.

So this is my first time on a bus in the US, at the very end of my trip. The ride from Hartford to Boston on the Greyhound bus, costs 32$. If you buy the ticket online it would be 22, but then you have to come and pick it up one hour before depart, a clear way to discourage online ticketing. If you buy from the Peter Pan Buses web site, the african american lady at the counter explains me, you can print the ticket yourself, but they are not very strict with the greyhound rules either.... This is a tip for everybody travelling by bus in the US.

The 9 15 Boston bound bus (they do not call them coaches on this side of the atlantic) is a Peter Pan bus, evidently the two companies Peter Pan and Greyhound have now joined forces. A normal bus with 52 seats, a bathroom, and a black dust bag in the front as common bin. We are about 20 25 people on board, difficult to see who they might be, normal people, of different ages, races etc. The driver welcomes us onboard through the speakers and reminds us that smoking and alcohol are federally prohibited on buses, with the accent posed on the federal. Restrain from the use of cellphone as a courtesy to your fellow traveller etc, and there is free wireless on the bus. Thus I am writing this very note from my seat at the front. I have been to Boston less than a week ago but I was too tired, I hope today is going to be better. I have found a guide book, not very good, but informative. Now I remember a movie, a bad romantic comedy (I am not good judge of romantic comedies, I do not watch them) Everybody wants to be Italian, which is set in the north end district of Boston, the one traditionally lived by Italians immigrants. Really I do not know much else. It means that I will learn a lot today.

Car finale...con brio

2009-07-02T14:19:00.000-07:00

so, after the cross country car adventure one way and back, I get the car insurance adventure. Complete experience, till the end.
On monday evening the accident, the phone calls. Tuesday afternoon the appraisal guy that works for the insurance company of the car that hit me comes round to have a look at the car. He has italian origin, from Puglia. He explains me that he is just collecting data and pictures and that he will do an estimate when back to his office. Subsequentely I drive the car to a car body shop, one that has been recommended by one of the librarians. He looks at the car and predicts what may happens. The car is too damaged for a repair. Even if it is just the body it is not worth repairing it. The insurance is going to declare it a total loss and "total it". That is it is going to give me money and substantially buy the car from me. This is the best solution, as I will not have to find a buyer for the repaired car.
The following day nothing happened, they let me in a frying pan of preoccupations the entire day, will this be solved in time? will I need to reschedule my flight? At the end of the day I called the insurance, the profecy was fulfilled, it is a total loss and we are going to buy the car from you.
At this point I could start to relax, I would not need to sell it, time and how much? are now my concerns.
Today again was a day of waiting, waiting for receiving the phone call that would tell me the final word, how much and when. In the end, around 3 30 I received the call, they are going to give me 4000 $ and the check is going to be there by tomorrow.
I will need to provide them with the title of ownership duly completed. The plate need to be taken off and sent back to the DMV by post ( one could actually just take them there, however it is closed from thursday to the tuesday for Independence Day).
The incident was on monday afternoon, we have a solution by wednesday, and a check by friday, this is an incredible efficiency for a insurance to give money away.
Celebrate the 4th of july.
My last question to the appraisal guy in our last conversation was, what will happen to the car? The car, he answered, will be sold at an auction, and will be bought either by a salvage yard who will break it down for parts, or will be bought by a rebuilder who will repair and try to sell it.

car adventure : the twisted finale

2009-06-30T06:35:00.000-07:00

After a pleasant weekend between Rhode Island and Massachusetts, of which I will write later, yesterday morning I set off from East Greenwich westwards to Farmington. I will spend the week there. It is somehow like going back home. Certainly it is for the car, as I am taking it where I bought it. This 100 miles or so to the Lewis Walpole Library are also my last drive in the US. Once there I will sell the car tomorrow or on Wednesday. As these thoughts start to gather in my head I get a little emotional while driving. This car has been a good companion of adventure in the last 4 months, and I am sad I have to leave it behind. The weather continue to be gray and showery, trees and plants are display their best green. I stop for the last gas and I also take a last coffee refill, just for the fun of it. It is funny to drive again in these roads where I drove first at the beginning of February. The I-95 I-84, the 372, and finally the 10 that took me from New Haven to Farmington. When I arrive to the library the odometer marks 133869, it was 130043 10 days ago when I left LA, the trip coast to coast West to East was in the end 3826 miles. When I left Farmington in late February it marked 121840. In the last 4 months I have done more than 12000 miles, more than 19000 km, what I have been usually doing in three years back in Italy.
The day passes between greetings, tales from my past months and some work in the reading room, reading some early 19th century accounts of English Clubs life.
At 5 pm I take everything off the car and clean it, then I take it to the car wash, I want to make it look beautiful for the perspective buyer who is coming to see it at 6 30.

As I am driving back home on route 6 I stop at a yellow traffic light. A GMC small SUV hit me from the back and pushes me on the other side of the intersection. I cannot render the thousand thoughts that hit me on those seconds, insurance, no sale, mechanic, my flight, my money, my buyer, time, time.
I get off and look at the car, the rear bumper the lights on the passenger side needs replacing the trunk and some of the fairing needs bodywork. Nothing major but certainly significant, and it will go on the record of the car, the resale price will just drop and drop. What will I do?
The other guy stops and calls the police, it is a nice guy, from down the road. He is sorry. A first car of the local municipal police arrives, but the policewoman is at the end of her shift and a sergeant comes 10 minutes later. A report is filed. I explain my situation, I leave the country in a week or so, they tell me to leave the registration certificate, my title of ownership already signed for the sale to a person I trust. What a mess.

In the evening I call both my insurance and the other guy insurance. They will contact me for the appraisal. maybe today. I walked to the local plaza, back in february, with ice on the sidewalk this had seemed to me quite a distance, now it does not take me more than 5 minutes to get there. The liquor shop is not there anymore, a casualty of the crisis? difficult to believe. I was ready to indulge in a bottle to forget the day, but I will have to find other means to sedate my soul, what a stroke of luck, they give star trek the next generation on the sci-fi channel....

Cambridge Boston, 8th day

2009-06-29T04:53:00.000-07:00

The weather has completely changed, since I passed Buffalo going east, it is grey and it is raining. Today it is the same, I did not know that summers in new england would be so mild, so englishin a sense, in the traditional sense of what summer used to be in England.

Getting to cambridge is relatively easy, I am there in less than 2 hours, but the only parking available is very expensive. I walk around this little town for half an hour before getting to the research library where a booklet has been set aside for me. In less than three hours I have finished with it and decide to drive through downtown Boston before heading for Providence where I have an appointment with T. I stop in Boston and have a walk around and stop at the public gardens, I see the victorian and edwardian architecture of the houses, but I am too tired to be really looking around and getting a sense of the city, a seagull is carrying with its beak a plastic bag full of bread crumbs, from time to time stops rest and then picks up its bag and walk another 5 6 metres. I think I am so tired I am having allucinations, thus I take a picture of it, just to be sure. After an hour or so I get back on the car and drive to Providence, RI. Traffic getting out of Boston is worse than in LA, it takes me two hours to get to Providence. My friend is waiting at a bar in Thayer street, where Brown University people hang out. A very trendy and lively street.

After a couple of drinks we head to East Greenwich some 15 miles south of Providence, where T is living at the moment.

Niagara falls, 7th day

2009-06-27T17:38:00.000-07:00

I wake up very early with a beautiful feeling, maybe it is the lake shore, after all I was born on the shore of another lake. I drive up from Geneva on the Lake to the next town which bear a native sounding name Ashtabula, I stop on the shore where there is a coffee house, it is about 7 30 in the morning and the coffee place doesn't open until 8. A solitary fisherman looks at me with that look that fishermen give you, "are you going to bother my fishes and my peace?"; a tractor is cleaning the beach, I touch the water expecting freezing water, it is warm, not less than 18- 20 degrees, it is now or never, I put on my swim suit and throw myself in the water, which is clean too. At 8 o-clock I am the first and happy customer of the coffee house.

Back on the I-90 the noise at the front of the car is getting bad, I ask advice at the first rest area and pull over at the next gas station. At the back there is a garage where a lame mechanic welcomes me, he evidently does not deal in non-American cars. The place contains some of the Americana that one dreams to find in the USA. His diagnosis is clear, it is a wheel-bearer, the front right one. 260 $ and few hours of work. I am glad I have found him, he is clearly competent and honest. In less than three hours the car is back on the road and drives perfectly again.

My early start has turned into a late day. What the hell at this point I want to break the day in full. The next sign is a welcome center for the Niagara Falls, I pull over and get instructions.

As I arrive in Buffalo, the weather changes, a huge storm is over the city. When I get to Goat Island Car Park at the Niagara Falls, the rain is pouring down.

There they are the Niagara, from the top it is difficult to evaluate the dimension, but when a boat approaches them from below, you can appreciate how gigantic they are. Water, water, when was I in the desert? three, four days ago? I wander in the park for about one hour, before heading back to the car.

The rest of the day is driving on the I-90 till late to get as close as possible to Boston, where tomorrow morning I need to resume my scholarly clothes for a few hours. When I approach Springfield MA, I decide to pull over, it is about 10 pm I am very tired, but most of all , I want to sleep in a Springfield before going back to Europe. This is my last chance. I wish there could be Moe's pub round the corner.

day 6, south and then north again

2009-06-26T11:32:00.000-07:00

Last night I slept, south of Chicago, to avoid being stuck in the morning traffic, the motel was in a place with a funny name on the I 65 that will take me down to Indianapolis where I will rejoin the I 70 that will take me to Columbus where I have a meeting for lunch with N a long time friend of mine. I am in the state of Indiana, and the landscape continue to be dominated by cornfield and by another plant which I am not able to identify. However in relation to Colorado where this central flatness begun, the number of trees has continued to increase, and so has the presence of water. When on the 70 I enter in Ohio, the landscape more or less remain the same. The skyline of Columbus is the usual series of skyscrapers. My lunch appointment is in a neighborhood north east of downtown, a sort of upscale suburban village with restaurants and shops. For the first time I eat at the Cheesecake factory a well known chain of restaurants, renown for their cheesecake that I forget to taste, the salad was not bad.
After lunch there is a decision to take, which way to the east coast, I have three option , the I 70 which will continue east to NY the I-80 which will proceed 50 miles north and pass north of NY, or the I 90 that will take me to Boston. Checking my mail I find out that a pamphlet I wanted to read is waiting for me in a library in Cambridge Massachusset. Thus the decision is taken: after traveling south from Chicago to get to Columbus, I will go back north to get to the 90. As I drive in the evening light, a noise is becoming evident, it comes from the front. Looking at the map I set my mind in sleeping on the lake Erie. It should be nice to touch the water of the Great Lakes. There is a village on the map, it is called Geneva, and has its little seaside resort, Geneva on the lake. I think it is perfect, last summer I passed on my motorbike trip to france and switzerland near the lake of Geneva, this summer I sleep in Geneva on the Lake. I should be there around sunset. As I leave the 90 to get to the coast I look at the houses, many are not well maintained, crisis? Decadence, or just the local culture. I missed the sunset on the lake just for minutes. Geneva on the Lake turns out to be a summer resort with gambling and family attractions, many bars and restaurants are biker friendly. I choose the sleaziest one, run by an Italoamerican from Campobasso.

Chicago, day 5

2009-06-25T20:16:00.000-07:00

The goal of the day is reaching Chicago in the afternoon so to visit it. Iowa is an infinite theory of cornfields and cows fields with the occasional small forest to break the sequence. The bridge over the Mississippi is under revision, thus I have to get round Davenport through a southern junction. As soon as one sets into Illinois, there are lots of road work to slow the pace of the car. Finally I get to Chicago around 5 pm. The lake side drive is a rather impressive way for a first contact. Driving north, the skyscrapers on the left , the beach on the right. It takes a while to find an outrageously expensive park for the car. Then I set off for a walk downtown. It is humid and hot, as it has been in the last two days. After driving two days among caws and corn I arrive in the capital of the Midwest. I follow the advice of a friend: strolling along Michigan and going up to the Signature Room bar at the top of Hancock Tower. I start with the latter. The elevator takes no more than one minute to go up to the 96th floor, then you are there, on top of the world, which is flat around you, both the water and the land till the horizon.
Walking in the city, at street level, I am reminded of what the adjective urban is meant to feel in its most extreme, that is Metropolitan, London, Paris New York. After few months in Los Angeles this is quite shocking. I can say now, I never had this specific feeling. LA stands really apart from the other metropolis. Chicago however has its own specific feeling. Let me put it this way. It is monumental, punctuated by statues, quite overwhelming in the beauty of the skyscrapers. This is somehow the Chicago that in home to Batman, its dark knight. Then there is the magnificent and luxurious city, made of an endless superposition and juxtaposition of palaces and skyscrapers, a city that shows its sheer wealth with unashamed pleasure. It made me think of Venice, the richness of the individual palaces, the many facades that the city presents to the world, the view from the lake, the one from the river, the one from Michigan Avenue. It shares something else with Venice; there is a specific source of wealth that has made these cities rich, in the case of Venice it is the commerce of spices, in that of Chicago, cows, in neither of the two there is an explicit acknowledgement of this basic fact. In simple words, where is the monument to the burger?

Entering Midwest, day 4

2009-06-25T20:07:00.000-07:00

The day starts with an oil change, in the outskirit of Denver. In the waiting room they show the US open of golf. They were also on in a diner two days ago. Golf must be more popular than one imagine. A short drive north to Boulder where just under the mountains, where I have a coffee with T a colleague met at the Huntington. Downtown Boulder is a lovely are with coffee houses and restaurants. Leaving Boulder around 1 pm I drive north for few miles and then eastbound to reach the 25 north and then the 34 east to reach the I 76 that will lead me to the I 80 in direction of Chicago. As soon as I leave the mountains behind me a new landscape sets in. It is a well known one, the flatlands of the Midwest. Caws hanging on the field alternate to cornfields or to some other form of cultivation. There is nothing to see. It is as vast as the desert, but for reason that are hard to explain, not as exciting and of course lack any sublimity. When I stop at the first gas station I am struck by the heat. Humidity must be very high, close to 90 or 100 %. I remember the same sensation getting off the airplane in Cuba. A pool of liquid is dropping from under the car. Damn, they have done something wrong at the oilchange!!! Under the hood, everything looks fine. I am worried. What could it be? I touch and smell it, definitely water, with a car scent. As I am still checking I notice that other cars produce their pools too, the air conditioning, that’s what it is. Relieved I resume my journey.
Nebraska’s green is a little more intense, but basically the same, the only thing to do is to follow the activities of the caws as the afternoon pass, they eat they ruminate, they doze, they eat. Eventually evening sets in and I am relived of this never changing landscape. As I enter the urban area of Lincoln on the 80 something tipical happens: I am passing a lorry, speeding just over the 75 miles per hour limit. Since we are entering a urban area, the speed limit decreases to 65, as I am completing the overtaking, a patrol car is standing there and they come and stop me. As I explain the tricky situation I was, I am issued a warning and I continue. However I am driving more carefully. I stop in a place called just passed Omaha, Underwood, in Iowa.

Colorado, Day 3

2009-06-25T20:00:00.000-07:00

Entering Colorado is also leaving the desert, the land of rivers and water and forest. A completely different environment from either the mixed environment of Utah and the deserts. As I am crossing the river Colorado leaving Utah I cannot but think how crazy It is that Los Angeles gets its water from this river, two days away from the metropolis. Rather extreme. I leave the I-70 for route 50 which takes in a loop south and east, following the river Gunnison. It is a long detour but it will grant quite remarkable sceneries. The Black Canyon is just north of the 50 and it is a National Park. The view from the top, at the visitor center is one to be remembered, the river flows quite richly down about 200 meters or more. The comparison with the Gran Canyon which I visited 4 months ago is impossible, like comparing an island to a continent. Continuing on the 50 and following the Gunnison one encounters the Blue Mesa Reservoir, an artificial lake. At the junction with the 285, turning north towards Denver, the road starts to climb. Patches of snow covers the trees, the top of the mountains are free of trees, I wonder how high are we getting… When I get to the pass I am unprepared it is at 9346 feet, serious altitude, but one of the lowest passes in this area. This is the Grand Divide, that sets the US’ rivers east or west bound. Stopping in a fancy place near Fairplay called Coyote Cantina full of Americana hanging from the ceiling, a full motorcycle and a statue of a Viking warrior among the most remarkable item. Over a door hangs a chain of beer cans, called the redneck doorbeads.
In the evening driving to Denver I stop at a motel in West Village.

Southern Utah

2009-06-22T06:05:00.000-07:00

“If you are driving back, you should not miss southern Utah”, I was told more than two months ago, I am glad I listened to that advice, yesterday drive was incredible throughout the day, with the help of some luck.
Las Vegas’ strip in the morning is like a half empty glass of wiskey looked with hangover eyes, it is hard to look at it. The huge clown of the Circus hotel looks too big and the colourful neonlights structures are dwarfed by the desert sun. One rather hit the road and get away.
However if you want to stop there is no much around, industrial plants for the estraction of minerals, cement from the mountains sides. With some luck, and the help of a sign, GOOD FOOD, I find a diner in a god forsaken place called Ely, near a phantom place called Glendale. It is a diner, like the one you would see in a road movie. Entering it is like entering in a movie set, the blonde, once upon a time pretty waitress behind the counter, the other, stouter, one that only smiles to regular customers, who are mostly large men. Two huge tv screens showing golf and a reality are the vivid reminder that you are indeed in reality. They would not be there if you were in a movie. The diner offer a meat-lover menu. The big-boy breakfast includes a ½ pound ham steak, scary.

The highway 15 is a beautiful ride, but when I leave it to get towards the national park the scenery becomes amazing. The layered rock formations are all red in the great majority, but also white, grey, and white. However, within the desert there is a small river, the river Virgin, which allows for agriculture and farming. John Smith the prophet and founder of the Mormons had pointed to Utah as the promised land and a good section of the population in this area are Mormons.
In spite of this the National Park is called Zion, it is beautiful with its coloured mountains and its rivers. Exiting it means changing shape of desert yet another time, this time is more of a western tipe with large plain and at the bottom this large flat hills.
Driving with the evening sun behind you means having a good lighting of the landscape. Between Salina and Green River on the I-70 there are 110 miles without services, without a town, only the occasional ranch. It is the kind of place where god may give signs: It starts to rain, and a rainbow appear. Driving for about one hour with a rainbow, a full one, in front of you, and driving in the middle of it, in the rain, and lightning in the far back, I do not know why but is a filling experience.

The evening is spent in Green River.

Death Valley to Vegas

2009-06-20T13:16:00.000-07:00

I am writing from a trendish coffe shop organic store in the middle of southern Utah, a beautiful valley along a River named Virgin. The valley is green all along in the middle of this huge desert.

But this is today. Now I have to write about yesterday.

Setting off from LA was not easy, both on an emotional level and on a practical level too since there is quite some traffic leaving the city. Setting off on the 210 and turning north on the 15 towards Las Vegas, this was the plan, but as the 15 was quite busy, and Vegas not far I decided to make a detour and drive through Death Valley.

Approaching the area for the first time I saw the water cooling indicator of the car going beyond half way up where it stood the past three months. The air is quite hot. As you get over a some hills and dive into Death Valley the bottom of it, which stands under sea level, is covered in white sand. But there is life, lots of life even in this terrible heat. it is 5 in the afternoon, and the temperature is well over 43 degrees c°

I take a gravel road through what is calle "immigrant pass" the indicator continue to raise. As the road goes up and the speed decreases the hand reaches closes the black zone that indicates (too) high temperature. A panel on the road says, Radiator water 1 mile, the water was not there. After a couple of miles I stop and wait, hood open, for a quarter of an hour. Finally I make it over the pass. After some time I get on the route 90 again. And it takes me to Zabriskie Point!!!

A coyote has stopped in the middle of the road to eat a run-over reptile. I stop and wait for it to finish his meal and leave me going over my way. This is the first coyote I see. I am very happy I have seen one.

Driving through death valley to emerge back to new (fake) life in Las Vegas is sort of ironic. So I am very happy as I get to Vegas just as sun has set and neon lights are taking over.

Mine must be one of the cheapest motels on Vegas strip. However, it has a wedding chapel, two white limousines parked in front and the doors painted in pink. No wireless.

I walk all the way on the strip, which is made of these giant hotels/casinos/theme parks, Sharah, Circus, Treasure Island, on the stroll tons of visitors and tourists and lines of peoples offering cards of the flourishing prostitution industry. When I arrive in the one copied from Venice I can hardly believe it, the houses, the bridges, the gondola, S Marco. The gondolieris are singing italian songs, and the tourists are clapping their hands, as their gondolas slides through crystal-clear water.

The Paris one does not look much like Parisian street, more like austria or the netherlands, but the effect is good enough. And the crepes are real.

Jacaronda

2009-06-05T16:57:00.000-07:00

A beautiful tree has bloomed in the LA area, it is called Jacaronda and it is everywhere with its bell-shaped violet flowers. Entire streets are inundated by the falling petals.

end of the month report, May

2009-06-02T13:44:00.000-07:00

No much to register for this month, evidently the sense of impending travel and the fact that at one point I will have to pack things up and throw away what does not fit in my two suitcases is starting to affect my consumption patterns.

1 baseball cap to cover my head when the sun pours hard

1 new sunscreen cream protection factor 70

1 nivea hydrating cream

1 new agenda to replace the one I washed away in the washing machine

in the fridge there is hardly anything left, I need to go grocery shopping.

Watt Towers

2009-06-01T17:09:00.000-07:00

One striking feature of Los Angeles is the absence of monuments, this may also be a general feature of US cities in general, especially if compared to european ones. Statues do not abound anywhere or they are confined in certain places. After all the most famous monument in the US, the statue of liberty is a gift from the french people.
In LA there are very few monuments, one is a bust of James Dean at the Observatory, which could be arguably considered a monument itself. The other is the Hollywood sign, which evolved from advert sign to monument. A third, and a non-hollywood related one is the Watts Tower. I had never heard of them, but in Reyner Banham landmark book "Los Angeles, the architecture of four ecology" published in 1971, a book I have read recently, the watts towers figure as reference point in all of the maps of the city. Thus, on a saturday morning, with an English American colleague from the Huntington we set towards south east LA. It is also the opportunity to drive in some of the freeways I have not driven yet, the 110 (san pedro) south of the junction with the 10 (Santa Monica), the 105 and the 710. The Towers are located in the vast plain that stands south of Downtown LA. An area inhabited by the less wealthy sections of the immigrant population, the African American who populated it for most of the 20th century, and more recently by the spanish speaking population. The area is famous for the Watts riots of 1965. There are no signs on the freeways, directing to them, they stand around 105 streets. As you park the street, a security man wearing a kippah and speaking spanish welcomes you. The towers are the legacy of an Italian immigrant who moved to this area and in the back yard of his house started to built these structures in reinforced concrete and then decorating them with fragments of tiles, of porcelain, with seashells and pieces of broken glass. They are surrounded by a wall, also decorated in the same fashion. The immigrant name was Simon Rodia, he built them between 1921 and 1954, in 1955 he moved away from LA and left the property to a neighbour.

The african american guide that tells the story frames it in terms of one-man-dream pursued throughout his life. However, the towers can best be understood in terms of folk art. They are repetitive and somewhat neurotic. One is not surprised that in the 1950s and 1960s there were several plans to take them down. But eventually, after the riots, they were slowly transformed into a monument and they have become one of the landmark of LA and certainly a focus for the Watts area. They were recognized the status of National Landmark in 1990. A cultural center was established as early as 1970 and it hosts a small art exhibitions.

S Barbara

2009-05-21T08:30:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, after more than 2 months I had my first experience of driving in heavy freeway traffic. Direction west and north towards S. Barbara on the 101, formerly called Ventura Freeway, or within LA, Hollywood Freeway. It was not a gridlock, but was very slow getting out of LA. And was packed on both directions. To see a 4 or 5 lanes -on each direction- freeway full of immobile cars is quite a sight. And the usual dumb question comes to your mind, where are all of these people going on Saturday at 11 am? Are they going to have lunch at the in-laws with their packed "pastarelle" sitting on the back seat? Are they going to the seaside beaches north, to the parks? to their weekend jobs?

After 3 hours and more of driving and radio, with L. we finally arrive to S Barbara, some 90 miles away, the average speed is after all not too bad. Just in time for lunch at the house of a couple of friends I know from Italy. They have a house overlooking the city from the south east. The weather is very misty and one cannot see very far into the sea where some islands are supposed to be. However from downtown looking to the hills I am very struck by how much familiar it looks. Could well be anywhere in southern Italy. Or Spain? Could it not? The white flat-roofed houses, the green hills, Only when you look closer then the size of streets and the quantity of palm trees tells you are not in the Mediterranean.

Infinite variations of what it is called the Spanish style line up in the streets.

Downtown S Barbara is very pleasant, a seaside resort kind of atmosphere, overpriced shops, fancy restaurants, many of which are Italian. However, and in this it differs from a seaside resort, downtown and the main promenade area are all inland. As you get closer to the freeway that runs parallel and close to the coastline shops disappear and buildings get rougher.

Why is it that seaside cities tends to center away from the coast? And why the upper classes prefer the hills to the ocean view? It is such a general phenomenon that involves both medium and large cities, I am sure somebody must have written something clever on this.

earthquake

2009-05-18T09:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening there was a small earthquake in the LA area. It started at 839 and lasted for about 15 seconds. The house in west hollywood where I was having dinner with L. started to tremble. We looked into each other eyes and then I said. "it is!" and we movedunder a door-arch. I would have rather runned outside, however I am told that outside is dangerous because of the possibility of power lines hitting you. I wonder...
The television reported that a 4.7 shock was registered with center in the LAX airport area.
today I look at this website, it is impressive how many shocks there are almost every day.
http://earthquake.usgs.gov/eqcenter/

how do you eat your tomato?

2009-05-15T07:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday at lunch, there was a talk from somebody from National Public Radio, usually referred as NPR but pronounced for mysterious reasons empiar. The talk was not very interesting. If the talk is labelled brawn bag talk, than you can bring your lunch and eat while you listen to the talk. At my Armenian grocery I have found some very good tomatoes, red juicy full of pulp. As I wait for the talk to start I grab a couple and start biting them, like bela lugosi in the good old days, careful for the red juice not to spill away from the victim. A fellow researcher looks at me in amazement and says, "I had never seen anybody eating a tomato like that, for they are a fruit aren't they?" I am a little embarrassed and try the individual solution, "well I am" but I know it will not work, in a minute or two cultural explanation makes its way in the conversation. At this point the only possible fun is pushing the pedal of the stereotype: "I am from Sicily you know, we all eat tomatoes like this, but only in the summer when they are ripe" Actually, I wonder how widespread is such a practice among Italians. Around me, in the meantime, a general agreement has been reached that the spectacle of the exotic creature eating tomatoes with his bare hands and mouth has never been seen before. And the discussion then lean on the nature of tomatoes, fruit or vegetable, their content in vitamin C and so on. At this point I decide to keep the two bunch of grapes in my bag for another moment...

horror at the doll house

2009-05-12T10:30:00.000-07:00

Sunday breakfast and outing with L. She takes me to a trendy place off Fairfax on the 3rd avenue, the place is called Tart. Breakfast is as usual excessive even if you try to limit your orders and for instance renounce to French toast or the grated potatoes. The quantity of food das always in the US is beyond human need. In any case I have breakfast once a week and I think it is enough.

The crowd at Tart is very mixed in terms of age from the 4 ten years old girls having breakfast on their own, to a older couple. It is mixed also in terms of race. Many customers are well dressed and behave like if they are displaying themselves. Across the road there is Grove, a mall that has been built, as I understand on the location of one of the first farmers’ markets in LA.

http://www.thegrovela.com/ The farmers market in theory is still there but really there are no more than few stands and the rest is all coffee and restaurants, and deli shops. We buy the ingredients for a pesto, I want to show how to make fresh pesto. The mall is an open air one like the one in Glendale I have already described: a central square, fountains, shops and restaurants, in this one the statues and the buildings have a mix of styles including a sort of 1950s soviet style.

I wonder where they took the inspiration from.

Then the unexpected come. A most incredible store.The Grove mall is one of the seven locations in the entire country where a American Girl doll store is located. It is a relatively new store, people I am told come from all over the west to visit the store. http://www.americangirl.com/ It is a store where you can get a customized doll, they come with different skin colors, different hair styles etc etc. But the game seems to be that you can get a doll like yourself, thus they sell twin dress set, one for the girl (whether old or young) and one for the doll, so that the girl (young or old) can go around dressed like her doll. Inside it is full of mums and their daughters. The store offers a restaurants where you can go with your doll and eat with your little twin, a doll hospital if the doll is sick and a photoart studio to have your picture taken with your doll, of course a beauty salon….. In brief the perfect setting for horror movies and deranged stories. I would rather be shut at night in a cemetery than be trapped here when the light dims and the dolls start to talk with each other and plan how to take over the city. In the bookshop they publish the stories and biographies of individual dolls…. Each year a doll is elected miss of the year. and so on and so forth. You wanted the Americans to be American, well… they are.

Bloody Suntan

2009-05-11T14:07:00.000-07:00

Paradoxes of California N.1. You think of all those sunny days and the infinite beaches and then you think of sunglasses and of suntanned beautiful people, those you see in TV, but also walking on Sunset. However having a tan from the sun is very inappropriate. Here is the story: between coffees in the gardens, going to the pool, and a few times at the beach or taking a sunbath in the patio in my house, I developed a good tan, carefully built over the last two months by means of small amounts of exposure to direct sunlight. I wore my 70 maximum protection to minimize risk of burning. As southern Italian I have been socially raised to consider it shameful to appear with a library-grey skin at the onset of August. California might be considered to have a Mediterranean climate, but not a Mediterranean culture: in the last days I have been confronted with a number of remarks coming from both senior and junior American colleagues, and from library employee about my suntan. hey you got a suntan! However, they were not complimenting me, they were reproaching me something. It was not either the kind of comments suggesting you-have-been-having-fun you would get in Europe, no, these comments contained a deeper concern. I made a few inquires on the subject and here is the results. White people here do not go about with real tan, they get it sprayed onto their skin in beauty salons. The alleged reason for such perversion is of course the usual terrorist pseudo medical discourse on skin cancer we also get in Europe via prostituted journalism, with the difference that here it has developed in full common sense. One should were eyeglasses not to appear cool, like in the old song by a Sicilian singer, but because the sun is bad for your eyes; one should wear sunscreen every day because the sun is bad for your skin; than, for the sake of beauty you should go in a salon and paying for a sprayed on suntan. If you do not behave like this, you must be a Latino.... or working class.

academic nausea

2009-05-07T10:05:00.000-07:00

Today I have a presentation, it should not be a big deal, however it has been very very hard to work on it and getting it ready and together. I have been feeling nausea for a week. I do not know what happened in the back (bottom) of my head that sparked this reaction. Fortunately I will be presenting shortly and I do not think is going to be too bad. I hope I do not start to throw up in the middle of my speech.

update: I got over it, and paddled through my talk. Good feedback.

International Workers Day

2009-05-01T09:20:00.000-07:00

This is the formula used to denote the first of this month, usually used alternatively with May Day. As you know May Day is not an holiday in the US, and so I am today in the library working on my next week presentation I feel a bit strange not being in a march or an outing as it would happen in italy enjoying the blossoming red poppies. Here I could be among orange poppies. The way I am celebrating my May Day is by staying tuned on my radio here in LA. This is KPFK http://www.kpfk.org/ also known as PACIFICA radio which is a nice name for a combat radio. The tone is very much similar to that of Radio Popolare in Italy.
For the commmitted American left wing the one that stands critic of Obama from the left this is a day for the struggle. Moreover, (poor) immigrant people from many countries where May Day is celebrated use this day to make rallies and demonstrations. Thus May Day main political issue in this country becomes immigrants workers rights and condition of life. There will be some sort of celebrations/demostrations in 26 of the US states.

In Los Angeles there will be at least three demostrations. The largest is the rally that will start at 1 pm from Broadway and Olimpic and will end in front of the illegal immigrant detention center, free T-shirt to the first 20 000 people gathering there. You can see the flyer here below.

The other gatherings, one at Echo Park, and the other in Artesia ( a multi-ethnic working class suburb of LA) will then converge to the first one. (From Artesia by car? I wonder).

end of the month report: april

2009-04-30T09:57:00.000-07:00

Another month has quickly elapsed, and it is time for yet another report on the acquisitions and loss of petty property items as time goes by.

Between taxes and rent my monthly salary gets shrinked, so I need to adjust my consumption habit, especially if I want to save some money for my trip back to the east coast.

New Items:

two new front tires for the car
a change of oil for the car

1 new swimsuit model “eurogay”

1 pair of new sunglasses to replace the one I lost more than a month ago

4 small Tupperware for to pack my lunches

1 rembrandt toothpaste
1 travel toot brush (I lost the one I keep in my backpack)
1 travel toot paste colgate

1 new diaper cream for swimming
1 new douche gel

New items I have not paid for:

5 booklets with 100 checks each, from my checking bank account I have 500 checks , I just asked for one, but Americans are Americans.

1 hat (a present)

1 2009 porn for women calendar (a present)

Immaterial goods

50$ refill for my cell phone, (so far I have consumed the initial 100$ I had put in it back in New York in January)

Videopass for the 2009 Motogp season on Motogp.com to be able to watch motorbike races.

Food etc

New vitamin C tablets
New Soy lecitin tablets
New Potassium and magnesium powder
The remnants of a party: bottles of wine, beer, salads, salami, pesto sauce, barley salad, barley beans, one pineapple, etc. 1 kg ½ of linguine pasta, etc.

lost or worn out.

1 swimsuit (worn out)

1 pair of cuff link

1 travel toothbrush

Eurogay swimsuit

2009-04-29T09:03:00.000-07:00

I have already introduced the problem of finding a swimsuit in the US in various entries, I had various conversations and I learnt that among males the swimsuit commonly used in Europe are called Eurogay swimsuit, in an interesting formula that mixes the idea that those suits are for gays and that in Europe they are common. Oblivious of this, days later, I finally followed the advice of various people and head for a BIG FIVE, a sport megastore few miles east on Colorado, which is the main avenue that traverses Pasadena west to east. Fortunately there is a little section with proper swimsuit for swimming and not the huge things that Americans wear. As I look at the three models available I doubt if I should get a 32 or a 34 (do not try to convert it as measure, this is a measurement of inches at waist), the pants I am wearing are a 33, thus I ask a shop assistant about his opinion, this black tall young guy look at me with open unsure eyes that are saying "are you hitting on me?" I remember about the Eurogay thing and I try to straighten up my question. My accent clearly say I am European, it doesn't say whether I am gay. The guy say something and walks away quickly and I get to the cash counter.

Gay approaches in the US
By the way, this is also a good place to tell about the gay-approach-phrase in the US among the cultivated and not. The first time I was approached with this was in the male bathroom of a distinguished library, "is everything all right" this guy says as he get in and sees me. I did not understand and answered "yes it is" and look at him with a face asking "what kind of question is this anyway". The second time was at a party, the usual group conversing for a while, when the group split up, this guy on my left approaches me putting his hand on my shoulder and asks "are you all right?" at this point I realize what the previous anecdote was about and I answered "I am all right, thank you" and he took off his hand from my shoulder.

Galleria Americana

2009-04-24T03:16:00.000-07:00

Just 10 minutes away from Altadena, Glendale is the location of two famous shopping malls. Americana and Galleria. I had already visited Glendale when, during my very first week in LA, , in search for a spare for the car, I had gone to Brand Avenue in Glendale. Brand Ave. is a sort off gigantic open air multi-dealers boulevard dedicated to the 20th century horse. This time rather than from the south I reached Glendale going west on the 210/134. Glendale was already an LA large suburb (now about 200 thousands) but in the '70s saw a major development because also because of being at the meeting point of two freeways, the Glendale Fwy (now calle n 2) and the Ventura Fwy(not called 134). I landed from the freeway again on Brand but close to the hills and started to descend. The Galleria, the oldest of the two shopping malls opened in 1976 and department stores plus a multitude of restaurants and shops. It is the mall as we have seen in movies and television, as we have read in novels and essays. For the pleasure of either those who knows about Walter Benjamin and those who don't, the word "galleria" was adopted in mid nineteenth century as a translation of the word "arcade" which was used in english and french "passage" to indicate the new temples of shoppings, covered lighted streets. Surving in Italy today two in Turin, one in Milan and one in Naples.

The mall has three levels and fountains. People walks and window shops, as it is usual there is one end which is more up-market and another more popular where the department store is located, here is slightly more complicated for the presence of 5 department stores.

To immerse better myself in the mall I got myself a shopping task, finding a new pair of swimming trunks. The one bought in New Haven are worn out and almost transparent on my buttocks. Thus I visited shops, and looked at windows, and at people, asked sale assistants, and with some hopes I entered a couple of sport stores. But in the US, whether east or west coast, to find a swimming trunk and not trousers you need a specialized shop, in the entire department store I was not able to find one pair of swimming trunks made for swimming.

Time to move to the next one. The two malls close both at 9 pm. The construction of Americana, started in 2005 and it kicked open in 2008. It is a mall of new generation, open air, with a number of pedestrian streets around a central square; cinema and restaurants tends to be located in this central focus place. A fountains plays with water and there is even a street-car, red, circling around the entire area.

The entire mall is built to resemble to an east coast southern city, Charleston as it was in the 1940s. I've been told that Charleston did not have a street-car back then. In any case the inspiration is generally southern states. Buildings are 4 storey, the ground floor is shops the rest looks like they are flats. Large billboards invite people to come and live there. Abandon reality, come and live in the Centre.

Maybe because I arrive at 8 but I am struck by a couple of things, one is the performative character that the place impress onto the people. The number of people who have dressed up to go to the mall is clearly superior to those in the Galleria where people are just dressed casually. The second is the great spectacle of eating: restaurants are filled with people who, disregarding the tacky golden apollo/superman/athlete statue at the center forged in pure capitalist realism style, are performing their dining out with formalized poses and attitudes. The non blasé among them enjoy looking at the elaborated water games of the central fountain, maybe uncounsciously longing for an off-night of sprinkles and spoutings. One of the building has an elevator tower, on top of it something that reminds me of both an water well structure and the Eiffel Tower, the entire structure it looks like a multilevel hotel by its entrance, but nobody checks me at the entrance, when I get to the second level I realize it is the parking. The mall is all at ground level, but the parking lot has 7 levels!

Desert gardens

2009-04-23T07:50:00.000-07:00

Finally I managed to visit the entirety of the Huntington's gardens. Beside the Chinese gardens, there are the Japanese with an entire Japanese house in it and a zen garden. On the way from the Chinese to the Japanese, there is the Padillon for Washing Thoughts Away, a very useful one and of course one of my favourites. However from time to time I would like there be one for putting the thoughts in order.

The authentic exotic experience are the desert gardens, Cactuses, Agaves, aloes, and all the miriades of forms those hard to kill creatures have taken. Of cactus there are all those you see in western movies and read in Tex. The tall ones ou hide behind as you approach the buffalo, the round one you cut in search of liquids under the desert sun when your horse has abandoned you.

I actually went around it in a very torrid day, with temperature above the 90 F and the sun raining down on the sparse visitors.

It felt like july in Italy and actually Agaves and aloes and some of the cactuses were quite familiar if you come from the south.

I just put here a couple of pictures, the rest you can see in the slideshow.

Dodger stadium

2009-04-17T16:05:00.000-07:00

Baseball, as a friend of mine wrote to me, half of the US is obsessed by it, the other half thinks is boring. One game is of course not enough to give a judgement, however I can see both possibilities.
We set out on a colleague's car, he has flown into a LA and here got himself this old car through a company called rent a wreck, http://www.rentawreck.com/ that is the cheapest way to get a running car in the US. His car is actually squeaking.

Dodger's stadium is an example of 1960s architecture (1962) located just north of downtown los angeles, north east of Echo Park, on the hill opposite to it a large sign THINK BLUE (the colour of Dodgers) is standing up. The dodgers were actually a team from Brooklyn who moved to LA. LA does not have a american football team, of course beside the dodgers there are the famous LA Lakers for basketball. The stadium painted also in blue is surrounded by a huge area for car park.

The game starts at 7 10 and we are there around 6 30, the stadium is full for less than half of its capacity. As for many other activities food is central to the experience, the rings at the back of seating ares are filled with stands selling you any kind of fast food you fancy, mainly hot dogs. People selling candyfloss and a sort of frozen yogurt are circling the seated audience.

We got seats right on top of the hitter post, not ideal I am told because you cannot see the exchanges taking place between coaches and players. Very good view otherwise.

Most of the time before the start of the game is spent between the advertisement of products and some policing of the event, recommendations on correct behaviour on the part of the audience displayed in points and read by baseball players are repeated at least a couple of times, a tel number is given to ask for help "if somebody is hindering your enjoyment". When they play the national anthem, everybody really stands up, like they do on movies or tv. However I remember they did not stood up in New Haven for it on inauguration day. I stood up as well, a little embarrassed, but it would be very stupid not to do so. I do not recollect the last time I stood up for a national anthem, hardly ever of course for the Italian one.

The game starts and during the first inning I do not understand anything of it. The dodgers in white are playing the Giants (San Francisco) in grey. Right at the second inning there is a home run for the Dodgers, this I recognize, just from the little you learn from movies.

People continue to flood in and by the beginning of the fourth inning, more than an hour after the beginning of the match the stadium is full at 80% and more of its capacity. Each change of field or end of inning, one sees a huge movement of people towards the food stands.

There is hardly any loud support for the team but for some cheering and some clapping of hands. Giants' supporters are seated among the rest of the public.

By the sixth inning I start to get logic of it, getting the hitter out for the pitcher's team and getting the run round the diamond for the other team. When somebody reach second base the game starts to become tense. It is at this moment that the speakers play the 'charge' -trumpet, like in John Wayne movies- and the audience go 'yeah' or 'go'.

While I am having a piss at mid seventh inning there is a pause for "god bless America" it plays in the restroom too.

The most remarkable thing however is again the audience. Starting at the seventh inning they start to leave the ground, it is now about 9 30 pm.

The game ends with a smashing victory for the Dodgers, 7-2 the final score. Because there is a gap of 3 or more victory at the exit you get a bonus slip for three mini burgers at Jack in the Box. Yuppie ye.

Pasadena from above

2009-04-14T11:00:00.000-07:00

On sunday Morning, I went with my landlady to have a walk on the hills just north of Altadena. I should not say walk however, if you are on a trail and you are on the hills it is a hike. Sunday was a beautiful day, with a little mist.

At the moment everything is very green, it seems that by october is very dry and there is a significant danger of fires.
Opuntia Indian figs, originary of mexico and very common in sicily and in the mediterranean, are quite common in this area too, as you can see, for instance, in this house

As you climb the hills the view towards the south shows the urban area of Pasadena and surroundings. Pasadena alone makes for about 150.000 inhabitants. Pasadena downtown is that urban white area quite far at the back,

downtown LA is hardly visible in the mist behind the hills quite far in the background. It took about a couple of hours to get up and down again. I managed to get home at 1 pm for the start of the Motogp, but as you know it was raining cats and dogs in Qatar and the race was postponed. I took a nap and then went with John to the movies. We watched Sugar,
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0990413/
a movie on dominican young people, would be baseball player, who immigrate in the US. An very good movie, we watched it at ArcLight on Hollywood Bd. One of the producers showed up after the screening and did a Q and A session (questions and answers).

oil and tyre change

2009-04-14T09:53:00.000-07:00

I left the car at a gas station, I chose it just by the look at it. Old fashioned 1980s pumps, and eastern european looking people. It turned out they are armenians, their father emigrated in 1975 and they opened the mechanic place here in 1985. Their place stands between Allen and Del Mar, on my way to work, I could also walk from their place to the library.
In this country oil change is being done at much shorter intervals. No idea of the reason. 3000 miles is the advised interval, I had, 5000 on mine and thought I should adjust to the local tradition. Moreover the front tyres are quite consumed on the outside and I am getting those two changed. The deal is not exactly great, about 200 $ for the job, but I am getting decent goodyear tyres. In the end I discover that they service the Huntington's cars and they gave me a ride here.

250 $... oil change is cheaper but definitely tyres are more expensive than in europe. Odometer at 127310, the car runs more smoothely now, wroom!!

John Waters

2009-04-13T14:07:00.000-07:00

Saturday afternoon, there was the opening of an exhibition of John Waters, the Baltimore based filmmaker, do you remebere Hairspray or Serian Mom? him. The show was taking place at the Gagosian Gallery in Beverly Hills. At 7 20 there was a cue long 100 meters to get in. Inside the space was a two storey high hall plus some smaller spaces, all painted in white. http://www.gagosian.com/exhibitions/2009-04-11_john-waters/
http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/culturemonster/2009/04/john-waters.html
Exposed a number of photos and photomontages plus some three dimensional works, these latter guarded each by two security men. I was personally unimpressed by the works. To me they looked like the grandchildren of Warhol's stuff. And the pictures like faces of stars projected on peoples' bums were funny but not witty. The crowd was very happy to be there, to look around and at each other. Some weird characters, at least for a provincial boy like me, hanged about, gothic girls and other of these sorts. Waters was in great shape, with a grey suit with dark grey edges he toured the room saying hallo to friends and getting photographed together with young men.

"We have weather today"

2009-04-10T12:59:00.000-07:00

After a couple of weeks of sunshine, this week has been quite clouded and today is also fresh and it my rain a little. In southern California, they say "we have weather", as opposed to the 'normal" condition of sunny clear sky, so weather is only "bad weather". Certainly the weather over here is mild and sunny, a cloak-room is nowhere to be found, and this is a very good way to represent the difference between East Coast and West Coast. However, it seems to me that this is also a cultural expression, derived by the fact that but also by the fact that somehow good weather is essential part of the identity of southern California. I think that over one year the days of "weather" may account to a good number.

netflix targeting me..... 3 months later

2009-04-10T00:43:00.000-07:00

Now, you know how I basically feed on movies, and how the second week I was in the states I got myself a subscription to Netflix to get myself a fix whenever I needed it. Evidently those motherfuckers have got a program that tracks what you see and targets you with tailor-made offers organized in personalized genres. Tonight as I get onto the homepage this is the staggering ensemble I found:
I swear it is all true, I saved the page for future reference, you can ask me for it if you don't believe.

Understated Indipendent Movies on Marriage (based on my interest on Independent movies and my good ratings of Shortcuts and Sex lies and Videotapes )

Mind Bending Horror Movies (Based on my interest on Mind Bending and Horror)

Visually-striking Suspenseful Movies from the 1950s (Based on my ratings of The Bad Seed and Touch of Evil)

Crime Thriller based on Classic Literature (based on my ratings of The Big Sleep and The Lady From Shanghai)

Sci-fi and Fantasy (based on my interest on Sci fi)

Can you believe somebody out there got the job to invent those names?!!! And had fun for ten minutes looking at my records. Or is it computer generated? Gee, I wonder what I will get next... and what everybody else gets...
Inspired by such sublime and refined example of marketing, here are some in-style suggestions from my own movie experience and my imagination

Manneristic gore movies with big titted blonde girls
Serial crime thrillers based on true torture stories
Pseudo-historical movies from the 60s with middle eastern backdrops
Romantic comedies from the 1980s with guys in torn blue jeans

there is hardly a limit to the fantasy, come on, invent your own genre....

Next Morning Update. This morning, the first thing I did was checking "my" netflix homepage, with results not as exciting. Interesting that they seem to focus on whatever uncommon you've been watching...
this are their suggestions:
Mind bending independent movies (based on mind bending and independent)
Suspensful Cult horror movies (based on horror and ratings of Scream Blacula Scream, and I spit on your grave)
Critically acclaimed dark movies from the 50s (same as yesterday Bad Seed and Touch of Evil)
Sci fi and fantasy
Crime movies based on classical literature (same as yesterday, big sleep and lady of shanghai)

lunch break in china

2009-04-08T13:11:00.000-07:00

Once a week, no visitors are allowed in the gardens and we have the site all to ourselves. A good moment to take pictures. This is just the Chinese section of the gardens, opened just over a year ago, large enough to set few scenes of a Kung-fu movie. The interesting thing is that the local chinese community is involved with it. A way to claim legitimacy and visibility.

Observatory Sunday

2009-04-06T07:39:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning of this weekend with glamorous people, Market, at 8 30 we set off with John toward Hollywood farmers' market, that takes place every Sunday on Ivar Avenue between Sunset Bld. and Hollywood Bld.

For those interested in urban phenomena, I signal that Ivar Ave is the only street that is not totally straight, I think that this is not just a coincidence. Fruits and vegetable in the first place, but also flowers, some food, and some clothes for those people that in Italy are called "alternative". Prices are high as one would expect, but not higher than in the Santa Monica market--I have not yet been in the Pasadena's market--, we buy tomatoes, salad, hummus, oranges, fava beans. Here is John as he is choosing some flowers.

Breakfast.
After open air farmers' market, organic food, hippies style clothes and nostalgic singers, one leans towards nature again, thus, there is nothing like a good coffee and cholesterol based American breakfast in a diner: two eggs, bacon, potatoes and fatty muffins with butter. One feels is connecting with the world again.
One of the way this day functions is also with on and off conversations about work, and breakfast is a good moment for that.

On our way to the Griffith Observatory () I ask John to stop, there is a construction site. It is a good opportunity to show to viewer of stone and bricks countries like me, the wood houses here.

Reiforced concrete is only used for the platforms and for the walls that have to sustain the land around, however both the structure and the walls are entirely in wood. This technique makes houses cheaper to build, (however, not to buy) and gives you a completely different perception of the house, when you are in. I should talk more about this in a future entry.

The Griffith observatory is strangely positioned, overlooking LA, right over Los Feliz (pronounced los feelis), right down from the Hollywood sign in Griffith Park.

A rather ugly head of James Dean commemorates Rebel without a cause. A strange site for an observatory, so close to the lights of a city. A 1934 PWAP (Public Works Art Project, one of the New Deals program) realist monument to great astronomers decorates the courtyard. However one of the halls inside is called Leonard Nimoy Event Horizon Theatre. One wonders if the stars it is supposed to point to are solely those in the sky.
The air is very clear and it is a great day to enjoy the panorama of LA. City views get standardized, LA is seen almost always from north to south, as in this case.

LACMA, Los Angeles County Museum of Art is our next stop, http://www.lacma.org/
this is its main entrance.

it is a huge site, the latest buildings are by Renzo Piano. We are here for an exhibition of German Art from the two Germanies in the after war period. http://www.lacma.org/art/ExhibColdWar.aspx

It is such a treat, the most interesting moment is probably the forties and early fifties, before the wall. The seventies with terrorism are touching.

The evening is spent cooking dinner with what was bought at the market in the morning. And a couple of beers.

desert in bloom

2009-04-05T21:43:00.000-07:00

This blog, people have commented, lack variety of characters... There is only one hero, the lonesome cowboy... Which is fine, and even very good for talking of the long rides accross country. However, after attentive reflection and conscious of the formal implications, I have decided to include other humans starting from today.

Desert in bloom. Today is poppies day at Antelope Valley, with my new friend, Susan, we set off at 9 from LA direction north east towards the natural reserve. We stop over at Palmdale about 40 miles from LA in the middle of the desert and we get a plentiful breakfast at a Salvadorean restaurant. The area around Palmdale, almost as large as LA itself is covered by a grid of roads, It is so desertic that streets have no proper name, those going N to S are named with numbers and are called streets, those gong E to W are named with letters and are Avenues. The officer at the parking of the Reserve warns us about rattlesnakes in the fields. I think it is a polite way to say "do not go off trail". The ladies at the visitor centre are dressed in orange, like the poppies. Yes, orange. Unlike the poppies in Italy, red and delicate, these Californian poppies are bigger and they are orange. They mix with very small yellow daisies, and other desert flowers. The desert is not completely covered as it happens from time to time however Susan, who is a professional photographer, http://www.susanandersonphoto.com/ solves the problem by taking a worm eye view pictures.

here is a pallid imitation from my part.

The wind is blowing, the scenery of course is quite wonderful, and even sublime, especially if you think (oh Freud!) of all those rattlesnakes sneaking among poppies and daisies.

When around we start heading back a long line of cars is waiting to get in the Poppies Reserve car park.

The afternoon is devoted to the opening of an exhibition at Culver City, the arty/trendy area of Los Angeles. http://www.ccgalleryguide.com/

This specific opening is a dedicated to Kehinde Wiley considered very good, of a series of his portraits of brazilian boys. http://www.robertsandtilton.com/exhibitions.html/ A long cue of cool dressed people wait to have the artist's signature.

Here we meet a friend of Susan, Chris Pete, a curator and an artist himself, is a cool guy, he will come to Massa (tuscany) in september, we may meet then. http://www.christopherpate.com/

after a while we move, together with to Mandrake, the bar most "in" at the moment in Culver City. http://www.mandrakebar.com/ There is not sign on the front (you have to know...). Nobody seems to be aware that Mandrake is an comic strip hero, I thought it may be an italian invention but it is American, howeverlooking around on the top shelf behind the bar I see two issues of the comic strip, funnily they are in Italian, and Italian is the bottled water they are serving, what's the connection here?

the magic lives on

2009-04-03T00:26:00.000-07:00

and why should I hide it? my dear friends, today I have been with my hearth low, and my stomach tight, the feeling to have passed the middle of this journey is not an easy one. A kind friend told me, you have reached Paradise without Virgil and Beatrice. Well, she might be a little generous, however, she cannot be completely wrong since I have journeyed all the way to the city of Angels, I figure I have reached paradise.... Anyway, folks, even if I am aware that life is all ups and downs, the idea to go back to purgatory in july is not too appealing.
Out of all this, tonight I headed for a historic cinema on hollywood bld, the egyptian theatre I was told to go, has been renovated very well and it is also called the American Cinemateque, today opening night of a Noir Festival.

As I was strolling along Hollywood Bld. just looking at the starts on the walkway with the names of actors directors etc, I was already feeling better.

Here is Von Stronheim one, with whom I share some fondamental peculiarities. Baldness.

The cinema theatre large and technological, half filled, many aficionados, about 40% with incredible quantity of pop corns on their laps, even the bald-headed eye-glassed grey-chothed slight-overweight gay couple near me.
A guy from the festival introduces the evening, it's the eleventh year of the festival, we get to see very rare movies from the archives, they are not in DVD these movies. Tonight a hommage Jane Greer with two movies. Then the writer of a book on noir movies steps in, and starts to talk about the actress and how great she was when he went to interview her on her house just off the 405, opposite to the Getty. And keeps talking, very LA. I am thinking am I really listening to this, here?
notes on the audience behaviour, they respond with cheers at names or facts to the speaker's word, then as the movies starts they clap their hands, as the stars names appeared they again clapped their hands, before diving them again in popcorns.
As the two movies unroll, Out of the Past, a classic with Robert Mitchum and Kirk Douglas, and The Company She Keeps, I see they are both set in california and Los Angeles. I feel the magic is still on.

Halfway in my journey, March monthly report

2009-04-01T18:53:00.000-07:00

Dante was at in the middle of his life, when he took his journey, I have past that point in my life and I have now reached the middle of this journey in the US. Almost three months have elapsed since I lay my foot on the land of Orson Wells, Gene Roddenberry, William Burroughs, Herschell Gordon Lewis and many others.
As it is customary with this blog at the end of the month I do a review, intended for the future enjoyment and puzzlement of fellow social scientists of a compte rendu of the way in which my material belongings have evolved in the past month.
This month however, because of the cross-country drive, the entry is going to be divided into two, the journey, and the first 3 weeks in LA.

The Drive

A large blue dust cover, or dust towel, to cover up my stuff in the boot as it is visible from the back window.

A pair of sunglasses to drive into the sunset (I've lost them last Saturday, on the same day they are recorded for the blog, when I went to Santa Monica Beach)

An Elvis Presley key holder.

An Elvis Presley mug with the Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich recipe printed on it.

An Elvis Presley double CD

A Navajo songs CD

A bag of land from the source of the Navajo River

Triple A (AAA) guides and maps to all the states I have passed through, They occupy about 30 cm in my shelve.

In Los Angeles

A new lock for the glove department of the Car

A comfy chair for the patio of the new house,

two headset for the cellphone (a spare one when the first will break)

one hat

one pair of flip-flap

one suncream protection factor 70

a beach towel

a towel (for the swimming pool)

a lock (for the swimming pool locker)

two pairs of light trousers (one is a jeans)

One pair of black long socks, (a present)

One plate, laquered with a scene from Gone with the Wind

four plants: Basel, mint, sage and parsley

one glass

one knife

a black adesive tape for electrical purpose

a set of toilet paper rolls

a facial tissues box

items that are not anymore in my possessions

a pair of winter light brown trousers (threw them away)

one cellphone headset (the one I left with, tried to fix it with the adesive tape and did not work)

FOOD available at the moment (not including spices I brought from Farmington)

onions (blonds and red) tomatoes, few potatoes, carrots, garlic,
oatmeal, cucumbers, lemons, pears
dry black beans, a can of ditto,
spicy tea, ginger tea, coffee,
coffee filters
buckwheat, sour cream, kefir, butter,
sugar,
curry
yegheknadsor cheese (Armenian)
puff pastry squares

strange days

2009-03-31T16:06:00.000-07:00

I want to talk about two quite unusual places I have been so far in LA,
the first is the Upright Citizen Brigade Theatre in Franklin Avenue, south of Sunset.
http://www.ucbtheatre.com/
It is a kind of improvisation theatre that, I think, started up in New York. It is a word-oriented kind of theatre, many comedian and stand up comedian have started from this sort of experience, one name for all John Belushi. The theatre is very small, about 100 seats, the stage also very small, the audience and the performers are all young with about 80% I would say under the age of 30. The great majority of performers are young male that want to become professional comedian and train in that direction. It is a collective performance. About six actors get to the stage, and ask for a word from the public. Then they start a number of scenes, one of them begins and the other support. They come back to the same scene two or three times and develop the story. The evening I was in there were two groups, one quite bad that seemed like a bunch of guys half drunk and having fun telling made up stories from their past, the second group was quite good, and you could not believe that something so elaborated was , it is really incredible that all you see is not at all prepared but 95% improvised there and then.

The second place, unique to LA is the Museum of Jurassic Technology, on Venice Bld. in Culver city. http://www.mjt.org/
hard to describe, the creation of David Hildebran Wilson, it opened in 1989, and it is a mix of various things, a cabinet of curiosity, a set of different collection, a museum of natural history, and one of popular culture. But it is more and less than all of those things, because in it, you are exiting the realm of positive knowledge to enter in a sort of machine that reflects on knowledge and the museum. As an authoritative voice tells you , over a German original, about a fantastic theory of memory and reality as cones and planes, you start to wonder if what you hear and see is actually true and to what extent. Have these scientists ever existed? And the charts about trailer homes parks around the world are they reliable or they just serves the purpose to convey ethnographical character to the collection? You are exhausted and you end at the Russian themed tea-room serving tea from a samovar. When you exit in the bright California daylight you feel like you understand Alice a little more.

Santa Monica

2009-03-29T08:30:00.000-07:00

Sunny saturday, temperature around 23°, more importantly low breeze from the ocean. A good day for a fist LA beach experience. Of course I am not alone in having this thoughts,
Santa Monica downtown is quite crowded with stollers in the pedestrian zone, 3rd street. I have a beach towel,, but I miss few basic items to spend a day in the sun, suncream protection factor 70 (I always buy the highest factor available) flip-flaps, an american institution, and a hat. Thus the first half an hour is dedicated to shopping.
Here I am in the course of my transformation towards a californian look

Second round is the farmers' market, with ridicously overpriced vegetables and fruits, 6 $ for a 2 pounds (900 gr.) of oranges, but they are organic and we are in Santa Monica. Overall not very different than doing your shopping in S Domenico di Fiesole, or at an organic shop inChiantishire, isn't it? I buy plants: Basel, Parseley, Mint and Sage, to make my place feel like home.

The sand portion of the beach is about 50 to 100 m wide,

This place, on the neverending ocean promeaderather is rather basic and unrefined, it played vivaldi music as it served omelettes and burgers.

Here I am as I exit the cold pacific water, pictured by the friend I came with, still a bit overweight. It is mindblowing to be on the beach like it was high summer....

Getty Centre

2009-03-25T07:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, in the afternoon of a very clear day I went to visit the Getty Centre, In Brentwood, LA, not very distant from Santa Monica. The centre takes its name after J. Paul Getty, the oil industrialist and author of the famous book "How to be rich". Although I had look at it in the internet, I was flabbergasted already at my arrival, 7 floor underground carpark and internal tram system to take you to the centre. What an opportunity for an architect in this case Meier to be playing without hardly constraint of budget....

The dimension of the project and of its realization are beyond scale, more the legacy of an emperor than that of an industrialist in a democratic society, the center stands like the works of those roman emperors that built an aqueduct or a temple, or a Pope, like Pius II and his Pienza.

It is built in white, with a stone quite familiar to Italians, travertine from Rome, but instead of being polished the squared block are left with a rough surface that conferrers more natural grandiosity to the complex. The sections built in white painted steel are instead flat.

It contains a series of terraces, roof gardens, gardens, fountains, statues, few pavilions for the art collections and a research centre where they gave me a two years long reader status with badge for not paying the carpark. In the library all the stacks have an "earthquake bar" to keep the book from falling during an earthquake.

The day was clear thus I visited only one of the exhibitions and spent quite a long time looking at LA from the terraces. I am amazed how green it looks, . with hills and trees everywhere. Travelling on the freeway you often feel you are crossing the countryside. What you see in the photo is freeways 405 that goes south, the Getty is just off the 405, and Century City, the only other area of LA, besides downtown, with skyscrapers.

This is instead a picture of the 405, heading north one can see the traffic of the afternoon. I had to remain in the area until 8 pm before heading back east and home.

griffith park and more, more....

2009-03-23T10:30:00.000-07:00

More explorations of LA, this past weekend, Saturday was hazy and was the day of Griffith Park, the largest Urban Park in the US, it is the one where the observatory that figures in Rebel without a cause and the HOLLYWOOD sign are located. You can walk for many hours in it, going up and down on the hills, it is left un-kept and now that is spring there were a profusions of greens from the emerald to the gray.
The best image that I have, but not a photo yet, is LA as seen from the hills north east of it, as it appeared on sunset at as I was driving on the 210. Flat green grey and brown with two set of skyscrapers. Far on the back closing in with the sky, the ocean. The 210 is really a freeway like the one you see on documentaries on LA life, 6-8 lanes on each direction, it borders the hills north of the city to take people east towards S Bernardino. It is the freeway that runs closer to where I live.
As everywhere else in order to communicate with others about a place you have to learn the various zones, and learn their position and the values attached to them. You start with North and South, rich and poor, and then West and East, a little more complicated, Westend seems to be associated with arty people and the entertainment world, Eastend I still have not grasped it.
And then the many centres, like Pasadena, Altadena, San Marino, the ones closer to where I live, each with their own distinctive identity. Echo park, Angeleno, Venice beach, the ones I've practised the last two weeks. South of Pasadena there is Rosebud, and it is an entire area, that expands toward West populated by Chinese people, 70% of the inhabitants. All the shop signs are both Chinese and English.
I wonder if, because there is no a clear centre-periphery dynamic, there is a greater symbolic autonomy of all these various centres..

.....

2009-03-20T11:19:00.000-07:00

"Such a fresh glance into a new land in which we are to abide for a time has still the peculiarity, both pleasant and foreboding, that the whole lies before us like an unwritten tablet. As yet no sorrows and joys which relate to ourselves are recorded upon it; this cheerful, varied, animated plain is still mute for us; the eye is only fixed on the objects so far as they are intrinsically important, and neither affection nor passion has especially to render prominent this or that spot. But a presentiment of the future already disquiet the young heart; and an unsatisfied craving secretly demands that which is to come..."

Goethe, as he, upon his arrival, contemplates Strasbourg from the Cathedral. From his autobiography, english translation, 1882, vol I page 296.

Pasadena Lifestyle

2009-03-20T09:24:00.000-07:00

I am in search of "Patio Furniture", yesterday evening at dinner I got the right keyword. The site of the revelation was an Afghani restaurant in central Pasadena, which is a lovely and lively little centre. "you are looking for Patio Furniture...."
One of the problems of everyday life, even if you master the language decently, is how to ask for... So as I want a confortable chair to sit and enjoy the afternoon shadow with a book or write the blog, etc. How do you ask for it? I need soemething to lean in the courtyard, I want a reclining chair, a rocking chair, either too generic or too specific, the attendant looks at you with strained eyes and slowly says, no we do not have those.
They really did not. I went around three Antiques shops, they do not sell old beautiful furniture, but just old, second hand stuff, but they did not have anything for outside. Thus today I will probably go to Home Depot a chain of department stores specializing in everything for the house.

In the meantime I am trying to find my way around the lifestyle in this area of california, of Los Angeles.
Yesterday I went to visit a piece of history of Southern California, the first Trader Joe's store ever opened in 1958. Trader Joe's in a sense stands to Southern California as Dunkin' Donuts stands for New England, a philosophy of eating. But Dunkin' Donuts is a fast food chain providing caffeine saturated fat and sugar, Trader Joe's is a chain of quality and foreign food supermarkets dressed in hawayan shirt. It started in the sixties to market food from abroad with a focus on quality. They have a Hawayan logo and shirts that was introduced to distinguish the company from rival food chains.

http://www.traderjoes.com/index.html

I was not particularly impressed by the store itself, but I suppose that forty years later all chains have learned to have their quality section...

Open food market with fresh product is a political statement. http://www.pasadenafarmersmarket.org/ Every tuesday and saturday there is a farmer's market. I long to go and have a look. They say that tomatoes are tasty, I want to check that out.

In the meantime at the Huntington, this morning upon entering the library there was a basket of free lemons, very tasty and juicy, from the botanic garden.

Orange and olive tree, a golf course

2009-03-18T18:01:00.000-07:00

Today I had to move out of sweet Echo Park area to my new place in Altadena, the car was full of stuff, two suitcases and food and my bag, and the two overcoats etc etc. I am staying on one of the last street before the mountains starts, I think one might even walk there right from the house.

There is a golf park right in front, very suburban, area, I can park on the driveway, "stradella" in Italian, an olive tree on the right and an orange tree on the left I think I can recognize this entrance.

My room is a guest room at the back of the house. I can enjoy the courtyard and the wooden patio. Excellent for working and eating up outside, they say they do not have mosquitos here, what else will they have? I will discover it.

Tonight I am going to the cinema, first time in the US, unbelivable, I do not recognize mysef, to see Buster Keaton with live music. At the http://www.silentmovietheatre.com/index.html

Between the desert and the ocean

2009-03-16T15:09:00.000-07:00

I remember a remark by Braudel saying that the Mediterranean sea borders this other infinite, a sea of sand, the Sahara desert. If you think of it, here is not too dissimilar, East of here 2000 km of desert land; west, the infinite pacific Ocean that probably offered less vital exchange opportunity than the Mediterranean sea. The metropolis itself partly conquered to the desert, this is the condition of Los Angeles, or maybe of the coast of Southern California, between two wild infinities and far from other inhabitable lands. But instead of sticking together in a tight territory, humans have lined themselves along the roads as boats in a huge harbour. And what is the center of an harbour? that stretch of water that takes you in and out? The airport? The freeways? the car? Funny that entertainment industry would find its home here. Is there a connection? Maybe, if any, a poetical one.

rambling round on saturday, till the obvious M. Drive

2009-03-14T15:30:00.000-07:00

In this cafe on Sunset boulevard are playing a country song "I've been everywhere, man". I am 5 minutes away from EchoPark, one of the locations of Chinatown I have watched again few evenings ago, as a movie on Los Angelels. This morning I set in my quest for a glove department's lock for the davidmobile, as it was broken when I bought the car and I did not have the time to replace it. Remember, I got the car on a Wednesday and left for the cross country journey on Saturday morning. I first set off for a car breaker that specializes in Japanese cars. I want to get there without using the freeways and instead crossing the city. The area is southern LA. I take Broadway direction south. As I hit 5th street it is like I changed city, and I enter what reminds me of southern Europe cities, Palermo, for instance:large stores packed with stuff and with rather basic overcharged shopwidows. This lasts for only about 10 blocks. At 20th street you are already another world, like a dirty periphery, full of cheap buildings and stores. The typical one family house in wood mixes with the latino shaped houses in stone and bricks. It could well be the Mediterranean, only there would be many scooters... and different faces maybe. However, in this area I have a tendency at thinking LA as Los Angeles and reading it in castillan... My destination is not far from Long Beach Avenue that runs on both sides of an urban railway. When I get there they do not sell the lock on its own. And do not see, to have many Eclipse's parts on the side, this seems strange to me as the eclipse in the US is quite a common car.Well, I leave, direction north for a Mitsubishi dealer, in Glendale, north of Downtown LA. I leave the dirt of southern LA, cross the city centre and going north I pass by an area called Los Feliz, a nice area with cafes and nice houses, yet another environment, I border the Hollywood hill from the south and cross the LA River. Glendale is very middle class, very suburban. Very similar to S Marino and Pasadena, where The Huntington is located. S Brand Bld is long series of auto dealers of all the major makes. I get my lock and set off home without looking at the map.

Lock replaced I set on foot around the area, on Sunset Bld till Echo Park Some Mexican ladies sell corn cobs, as their men play cards on the benches across the yard.There is lots of informal business going on, people sell on the street, a shoecleaner's van, oranges, it is like Palermo but there is more on the sidewalks and there are not the cries of the sellers, maybe it reminds me of Moscow in the summer. The same informal economy sprawling along the boulevards. I set to have a one dollar crushed ice, "granita" with mango syrup.

At 5 pm I can set for the most obvious drive I have to do while in LA. Always without taking the freeways I set for Hollywood Bd, and Beverly Hills, it is very strange to see written on the walls such words as Beverly Hills clinic or something like that, then a little north I find the indications for where I want to go.

It is very long, and curvy, the sky is rather misty so it is not worth to take picture, actually it overlooks Los Angeles from many angles, It is opposite to Hollywood, and you see the famous sign: for a certain section one sees downtown LA, further down one sees north of LA, west of Hollywood, and probably some other areas. I should go back and look again at the opening scenes of the movie to try to understand which view did Lynch choose.

Too many emotions, I can go back home...

first swim in LA

2009-03-13T09:27:00.000-07:00

Lockers, at the Caltech huge athletic department are open, you bring your own lock, so I got myself one, with the turning bolt so I do not have to carry a key in the water. As I opened the door towards the pools I was unprepared, it opened... in the open. The pool is an outside pool. It is only March, are we supposed to swim outside? Nobody had told me, evidently it is a given fact. Air was not cold just fresh, and fortunately the water was warmer than air. I think I will get a cold and I will have a early sun-tan this year.

Campo di Marte forever

2009-03-12T13:00:00.000-07:00

And I got myself a new place to work. For those of you who do not know it is The Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens. It is the result of railway fortune, a library specializing in british and and american history, an art collection and a botanical garden. In recent years it has developed a policy of opening more to the public and there are tourists and schools all day coming to visit the art galleries and the botanical gardens. I am impressed by the number of asian looking people and pupils. A first sign, I wonder, of being on the pacific coast?

Our everyday schedule is regulated by two bells, the 11 45 am bell, when librarians’ lunch break starts, and the 4 45 pm when the day ends. It is very funny to see at 11 45, after the bell rings, scholars lining up, as if they were pupils back at elementary school, to hand back their precious rare books and prepare also for their lunch.

As all readers, I have access to the botanical gardens and the relaxing strolls you can take over there, I have yet to visit the gardens and the art galleries.

There is a cafeteria over the gardens. I am writing this note sitting at one of the tables outside.

My new swimming pool closes at 7 pm thus it seems that right after work I will head straight for the water.

Campo di Marte, a destiny?

Yesterday I went to see the room I am going to have from next week, It is in Altalena, north east area of LA right under the mountains at the end of the Valley. A residential suburban area. I felt like, oh this is the Los Angeles campo di marte. Residential, under the hills, quiet. I am not sure I am totally happy about this. Apart from that the place is very nice, I get access to a kitchen and a portion of garden, I can park my davidmobile in the driveway. Opposite the house there is a golf course. As a movie setting, it looks more like Desperate Housewives than Mulholland Drive.

Settling up

2009-03-11T10:00:00.000-07:00

I've been very busy these past two days starting up in LA. I've got a badge for the library, I've paid my subscription to Caltech swimming pool, and set up a bank account, my netflix movies have started to arrive. By my third morning here, I have my (free) way in and out of the Huntington Library pretty well set up. From the radio on the car, LA talks to you like you would expect, cosmetic surgery, smile set up, hair transplants, the show business and the economic crisis. Public radio stations talk about environment, central american politics, water and waste management. Yesterday, I thought I should wash the car that was extremely dirty after the snowy areas in the Rocky Mountains, I enter one of the places and I found out that was not a self service. Going beyond my initial shame, I had the car washed and polished. First time in my life.

Epilogue, Venice Beach

2009-03-09T12:07:00.000-07:00

As I was stuck in the freeway 101, the opening scene of Falling Down came to my mind, when Michael Douglas leaves his car stuck in the gridlock and starts his 'mad day of folly', as the title was translated into Italian. He heads towards Venice where his Italian-origin- ex wife has moved (where else could an italian go? the police officer comment in the movie). I thought it would be the right conclusion for Attaliano's journey cross country. Venice Beach on the Pacific.

I took the car back to the freeways and I was lucky again, I got to Venice Bd without problems. I basically parked right on the sand. Stylish houses on the walkway along the Pacific.

It was half an hour before sunset, if this is not perfection....

Such timing would be worth of Phileas Fogg, the English stereotyped, over punctual, protagonist of Verne's Around the word in Eighty Days.

It was springish and people have been clearly enjoying a worm day on the beach. There was, in the air, that excitement when people feel cold days are over.

And there there was, the boardwalk where, in the movie, Douglas finally gets killed.

I am in LA.

More desert, then LA, ninth day

2009-03-09T10:20:00.000-07:00

After few days on normal roads I have grown weary of Interstates, thus I decide to alter my route to LA, instead of travelling all day on the I 40 I will take some state roads and rejoin eventually the I 10 which I had left in the middle of Texas.

Thus I get out and follow a road that heads south following the Colorado River. There is a lake, a tourist resort, I see the first palms.

A new landscape. South of the lake there is a spur road that traverses the Colorado passing over the dam that I suppose creates the lake. It is a scenic route along many summer resorts, with summer houses and people practicing water-ski on the river.

Eventually it takes me to Route 62. When I enter California there is a Car Inspection Station. Like a border control, they look at your car and let you pass. this is the first time I encounter this in the US.

Route 62 runs for more than one hundred miles in the California desert, (how many forms has the desert!! this one is sands and low shrubs). Invites you to drive off road, I wish I had a cross motorbike on a trailer behind the car.

For about 80 miles there is absolutely nothing. Then as you get to Twenty Nine Palms, south of a military base, you enter the Yucca Valley, and it becomes more populated, here I see the first cactus like palms.

Actually, overall it does not look much different that western Sicily.

The I-10 welcomes me about one hundred something miles from LA. Forests of windmills for the production of energy populate the hills around. Quite high mountains in the distance, I did not know about them. I am a little nervous about getting around, in the legendary forest of freeways. I have read carefully the directions to my destination, but will I be able to find them? I have kept the computer in stand by since I could not print them, but I press the power button one extra time and it shuts off. Google's maps cannot be saved as html pages, thus I am on my own with my memory.

It would not be LA without a blocked freeway, is Sunday afternoon, people getting back after the weekend?

More than one hour for the last 3 miles. However it is very straightforward and I arrive home without any problem. When I park the car, it is 4 30 pm, local time, the odometer marks 126012. The entire journey has lasted 4152 miles long, more than 6500 km.

if landscapes were interior...

2009-03-07T19:06:00.000-08:00

day 9 is articulated thus I need to divide it into chapters. Wireless at this motel is not very stable, I will post the pictures later on

Chapter One: Navajo Land.
Crossed the San Juan river I am back in Navajoland going south on the 163 passing again through Monument Valley. John Ford's point is off the road, four miles east. You pay 5$ and you can make a tour on a dirt road and visit the local indian centre. Today I am ready for the "authentic". The view is spectacular, grandiose, you can enjoy it from the restaurant and from the hotel, would you decide to sleep here. Here a typical tourist picture of me.

At the indian centre there are plaids, John Wayne postcards and the infinite population of gadgets. Here is a nice picture of a window at theMonument Valley Indian Centre, for you, picture reading people.

This one is instead the usual been there picture. Notice I've put on my raincoat, as if in Once Upon a Time in the West.

As I tour briefly on the dirt road and go back to the 163 I play a cd of indian music I made the lady at the counter chose for me. This is the best, she said. As I discover is a series of litanies sung on drum music. Their settlements are never on the road, you can spot them some miles away, under the shadow of the monuments of red rock and sand. Like the white spots in the picture below. They have their store on the road but retreat away from it.

So this is what remains of them... they are here, they live here, with their pickup and their trailers. I am shocked. White people arrived, killed the buffalo, defeated the tribes, destroyed the basis of their way of life. And then did not do anything with the land. They moved on towards greener lands. What a waste. Why did the US army was sent here? They must have realized quite soon that this lands was useless to the pioneers. Greed pushed the white people? but of what? Economic drive is clearly not the answer. Power? the sheer pleasure of domination? geography? Are these the effects of monotheism?

As I travel south, and the cd makes its way to its end, snow make its reappearance, and it started to snow. This time very heavily, visibility is down to 100 metres and the road is covered in snow. I proceed slowly, I imagine it will change further down the road.

This reminds me we are high. Between 1200 and 2000 metres of altitude. I keep forgetting it. And at this heights weather changes rapidly. I remember from my mountain experience. A high plain is a very unfamiliar experience for an Furopean. If we travel flat, we mentally position roughly at sea leavel. At 1500 metres the road is either going up or down, and if it goes steady is curved and you look one side and there is the slope.

Chapter two Grand Canyon.

I leave the 163 for the 64 going towards the Grand Canyon National Park. Approaching it from the South. This is not an Indian Reservation, but they have their stores on the side. As I navigate towards it on the side of the road there are this huge canyons, going down for hundreds of metres.

The natural scenery is impressive and mighty. The entrance to the national park is 25$ and gives you a weekly pass. The first viewpoint is only half a mile inside the park, it is called Desert View. Photos, mine certainly, cannot render it. Words, mine, neither.

How can I express it? It is like you have reached the end of your world. A crack has opened in the planet. Another universe starts. It goes down and down, vertically. It is not just a break but an articulated abyss, made of many ravines, one deeped than the other. Another world is there, like yours, on the other side, you guess it, but cannot be sure, as you cannot guess if the other side that you see is encircled by one of the wings of the canyon. How can I describe it? for those of you who know the alps, it is like when you see the Dolomites. It could be the place where god casted the dolomites and took them out from. Then forgot to fill the hole. The same expression of mighty timeless nature, but this doesn't climbs up to the skies but digs down in the skin of the planet.

Tourist pictures looks incredibly pointless here, but here is one.

The road takes you to other equally stunning view points, people have climbed down from Grand View, and opened hotels, an airline offer tours of the Canyon.

It is a pity, one reasons. it can only excavate down at sea level, no matter the millions of years. Where would otherwise end?

I wonder if they have statistics of how many people faints or have some sort of attack in front such spectacle.
I feel my day is over, where else could I go today? Emotionally, I am exhausted. after this. Yet I know I still have to get a couple of hours driving down my way.

Chapter 3 in search of Route 66.

I see on the map that south of Grand Canyon and along the I 40 there is Route 66, not any route 66 like the one I took a picture of, in Virginia I think, but the Historic Route 66, as they label it here. Thus at the first exit I go for it.

Motels, bars, guitars, signposts are there, but there is not road, just a half a mile stretch. After going up and down a couple of times I ask at a gas station, I should proceed 15 miles on the motorway and use exit 139. At mile 149 there is another exit route 66, I take it, It intrigues me, what is the matter with this Route 66 that appears and disappears? Again 400 metres of road, an inn, a visitor center and then nothing, A little word under the sign suggests a solution, it says Route 66 loop. I decide (decide?) I will follow the advice. Evidently route 66 is historic also in the sense that it does not exists in its entirety anymore and has been eaten up by highways. At exit 139 there is however the old road. It is Saturday afternoon, a beautiful day, I expect it to be picturesque. Not at all! No hitch-hikers, no guitars, no VW vans, they have remained forever in the loops. How appropriate!! Route 66 is correctly just a yellow desert and a very deserted road. Very beautiful. And the car must be very happy to be on Route 66...

The road runs along a railway with long trains proceeding slowly. I drive into the sunset. Mistakenly I pass Seligman, where some motels are located, I will not find another one till Kingman 70 miles down the 66 at a new junction with the I 40.

Navajo breakfast

2009-03-07T06:52:00.000-08:00

This has hardly been a culinary tour, actually often I have skipped a meal just because I did not feel like one after a long drive, my eyes had eaten landscapes all day, enough for me. Anyway, this is quite normal for me. This morning I am having breakfast at this lovely motel; it is served by a native american woman, probably the wife of the guy and the office. Their son, about 12 or 13, has a green punk, or should I say Mohican, haircut painted in green. I asked for the Fry Bread and what I got is a large round deep fried flat bread, a "focaccia", of yeasted white flour. It comes served with honey.
The temperature is fresh, the sky is grey, I was lucky yesterday with my sunset light.

Enlist for your free fistful of navajo land!!! a non-virtual souvenir of this drive together

2009-03-06T20:54:00.000-08:00

Dear friends,

you presence as readers of this diary has been very important for me. All along my journey I have felt your presence and your affection. It has provided me with eyes and a voice and some of the strenght needed to drive 8, 9, 10 hours per day. Maybe this condition of togetherness at a distance is very congenial to me....I have never felt alone. Quite the contrary, it was like the car was full of people.

As I was collecting the land from Navajo Springs in a large envelope, I thought that as a tangible sign of my sincere gratitude I could offer you a small souvenir of this trip. Thus, if you fancy receiving one fistful (what else?:) of Navajo land, and you are not ashamed of tacky ideas, I will gladly sent it to you in an envelope. Just write a comment or send your address to oldmutant@gmail.com

A blessed seventh day, as it should be

2009-03-06T18:11:00.000-08:00

Today was my lucky day. Surprises, decisions, guesses turned out not to be wrong. North of Espanola, I cross the Rio Grande, then the road starts to climb.

I am in the mountains, what a change from yesterday!! Few miles ahead I found myself in the middle of some light rain, I know the weather would change with such wind as these days. And I thought I had not had rain yet during this journey, so it is fine. Patches of snow started to appear. Looks who's here, I did not think I would have met snow again. I cross the Navajo river, I need to take a picture.

Today, for me, should be about two or three things, my adolescential readings of Native American literature, such as I buried my hearth at Wounded Knee; the reminescences of Italian comic book saga hero, Tex Willer -who is also a Navajo chief- and finally the scenery of John Ford's classic westerns such as The Searchers or Stagecoach.
As I enter Colorado the snow starts to become more consistent and the rain mixes with snow. Temperature must be quite low because the rain freezes on the margin of the windshield and on the wipers. The landscape has become alpine, or at least prealpine.

The entire landscape now is covered in snow, as it was in Farmington when I arrived at the beginning of February, and it continue to snow. I look at the road for ice, there are hardly any other car and there is no connectivity for the mobile phone and at certain points not even a radio station on the entire FM band.

I drive in this condition for about 2 hours and an half. Then I must have changed valley or maybe I have arrived on a high plane because the temperature raises, and the snow disappears altogether.

At two 'o clock I stop to collect a plan for the rest of the day. Of the lunch I have said (look at the previous post), the weather is getting better, monument valley is not too far but I will get there around 5 30. My planned route skirts the Indian reservation and would take me there from the north east to monument valley. Something does not work. I change my route from Cortez and take a route that crosses indian land and then gets me to monument valley from south west, so that I will get the sun -if any- from behind and not in front.

Longer, but what are few dozens of miles by now? It was the right choice. A casino welcomed me in the Navajo reservation. A beautiful deserted red land. As I drive I see their settlements, poor houses, huts one should call them. It is a high plain, between 5000 and 7000 feets high, between 1500 and 2000 metres in altitude. I do not have the heart of stopping at the indian shops where they promise "authentic" artifact, I feel in a very similar way to when I visited a WWII lager, my heart and soul shrunk in desolation, here in contrast with the beauty of the landscape.

Just after a junction, I pass Navajo Springs. Here is my site. I turn back and stop. Not just to take a picture but to collect from land from the Navajo river.

Further up in the road, there is the Four Corners monument. This land in the second half of 19th century, indian and civil wars over, was divided up by geographers among 4 states. That meets up in one point. The site, paradoxically is runned by the Indian community. The lady at the cash is undoubtedly not a caucasian. The land is very red, hardly anything grows, only nomads could have lived here.

Finally I get to the 163, I turn right, northbound, to the monument valley. It is 5 pm. The sun is there and starts to be low, in half an hour I am at the valley. My guesses were correct, I have the valley beautifully lighted by the setting sun behind me. A glorious drive.

and this one at the background of a scene with the cavalry, and the general view of the stagecoach and the cavalry, same movie, a few minutes later

Where to sleep, hitting back to the south? the nearest centre has some national chains Inns, checking in the tourist hotel at the monument valley center, with John Wayne show, runned by the Indians? My heart refuses. I will visit some indian centre tomorrow. I drive on north some 25 miles to the nearest centre, Mexican Hut in Utah. I am lucky there is a Motel right on the other side of San Juan river (that marks the boundary of the Navajo Indian Reservation) A beautiful spot. It is only 6 30, I have time to enjoy the last minutes of light, and then the wireless functions even on the riverfront. There is time to write and then watch a western. Bliss.

lunch in Colorado

2009-03-06T13:04:00.000-08:00

I was not expecting this, I have been travelling all morning back in the snow. As soon as I got into the mountains it started to rain and then to snow, as I climbed higher the snow grew worse, the landscape was all snow, this was no exceptional , for about two hours I drove in the snow. Then I entered another valley with no snow on the ground and no snow from the sky. This lay between the Mesa Verde on the north, a huge high plain, covered with vegetation, and the indian reservation on the south. Having Lunch in a lovely general store and food place in Cortez and then heading further west towards the Monument Valley.

travel route

2009-03-06T04:02:00.000-08:00

this is the plan for the next days, about a thousand miles. I will travel thourh Indian Reservations to Mesa Verde and the Monument Valley, to see John Ford's great western movies setting. Then down to the Grand Canyon and lastly to LA on the route I-40.

desert, sixth day

2009-03-05T20:03:00.000-08:00

In my night drive, I had unknowingly crossed a threshold, until now I have always driven in busy roads with lots of vehicles around and urban and suburban areas, east Texas was not different. But today as I rejoined the I-10 around miles 450 I found myself in a different universe altogether: sparse cars on the highway, but above all I was now surrounded by a sort of desert landscape, not like the Sarah, but a desert made of shrubs and weed. The bright green of southern Louisiana had given way to darker tonalities. Finally the west I thought, another signs told me of the changed universe, in Mississippi and Louisiana, as part of the southern symbolic order I had noticed the many sport motorbikes, here they have disappeared and a different masculinity has taken that space, that of the Harley and cruiser drivers, the stereotype of the American biker.

Speed limit on the highway is 80 miles/hour, about 135 km/h finally I can boost the engine above the 3000 revs and enjoy a decent European speed. However, yesterday drive off the highway has taught me something. With a European and East Coast reflex I assumed that if you need to travel fast you need to use the highway, however, in Texas limits on State roads are very similar to highway one. Thus, in my way towards a more northern route I design a journey that takes me off the highway. Thus after about 200 miles on the I-10 I get the 285 and I will follow it the entire day, for 600 miles, up to Santa Fe and beyond.

The desert areas is not a flat or homogenous, one stretch of 20 miles follows another, you get to the next valley and there is another one, and then the next, and it seems to be never ending. Disconcerting. And you turn around and for an entire day you see nothing else than this mighty drought. And they fought a war with Mexico for Texas.... I cannot imagine how the pioneers must have felt in their caravans and their trailers. I remember one of the scenes of the Grapes of Wraths, the movie, when they finally see California, but at least they knew it was there. The pioneer must have felt in a sort of desperate repetition.

In a desertic area in Texas what you expect to see? the oil wells, the long trains. Nothing. I drive and drive they are not there. A strong wind is coming from west, the sky at least is changing. Windmills for production of electricity far in the horizon, irony of fate?

When I leave I-10 I finally see them the oil wells, one, than another, than many, not the plantations like in James Dean The Giant, but tens and tens. The first inhabited place on the 285 is Pecos, from the river I believe home town of Pecos Bill, and home of the first rodeo. I stop at the local museum. It is an ex saloon right at the crossing between the main road and the railway. A man has been shot at the entrance and a plaque records it.

As I travel North, I see the desert changing several times around me. First it was a high shrubs, and green weed, the shrubs shrank with the miles north, and the green is substituted by a yellow straw. A sort of cactus, that look like a submarine branched seeweed has taken the place of the shrubs, for 50 miles, or a 100, then disappears. Men's places look destitute, the last city in Texas, Roswell, or was it Carlsbad?, is full of ET shops and places, and inflatables green mans are sold in shops. The aliens are from here. When I enter New Mexico a sing say, "extreme fire danger"The wind blows strong, rolls of dried shrubs cross the road. So this is the land of the bull. Probably, Millions of them, they would move from one valley to the next. Now here and there small groups of cows stand accross the barbed wire, a cult object in this area, in the museums they had collections of the various sorts. Caws however look disconcerted in the vastness and often they look across to the passing cars. How do they feel?

Desert brings me luck, a long long train proceeds slow, two locomotives on both ends, another one of those cult images of America.

As I approach the Santa Fe, I realize with some regret that I will soon change environment, back to human and to the mountains. We travel too fast, the odometer tells me, I have passed the three thousands miles since my departure from Farmington, CT.

I arrive to Santa Fe through the Old Pecos Trail. It is a lovely centre, well maintained with its architectural style.

The rocking chair, south fifth day

2009-03-04T21:56:00.000-08:00

The way from New Orleans to wetern Louisiana and then into Texas is for the most part a huge swamp area. You basically travel on water. Actually very first thing in the morning I clean the car, away with the dirt left over from the snowy day on the East, here we start gettting really West.

The I 10 follows, at a certain distance the river Mississipi and finally crosses it. Then the long drive on the swamp towards Texas. I stop at a welcome center and I see it. The icon of the South, The Rocking Chair, they stand there as an emblem, I cannot resist sitting. Actually this reminds me of a verb in sicilian dialect, one of those words that havce crossed over to Italian, "annacare" usually usued in the reflexive "annacarsi", the translation would be actually "rocking oneself". Funny how the connotations of Southern lifestile has similarities accross the ocean.

The temperature has risen and I need my air conditioning on to keep driving. I do not have trousers for this weather, I will need to stop by and get one pairs of jeans or something.

This morning, day sixth, I wake up in Junction, check the engine oil, and here I am as I write this. The sky is clouded and the wind, a costant presence is fresh.

the starry sky above me, horse powers below me, fifth day, two

2009-03-04T20:53:00.000-08:00

After Austin I set off west again on the 290 towards Junction a town some 150 miles down the line, back on the I-10. I rented a cheap room there, chosing randomly a place along the road. The guy on the phone tells me that he will close office and leave my room open, keys inside and tv on, I can pay tomorrow. It is dark, outside Austin cars disappeared and I am alone with the road, speed limits are good, long stretches at 65 m/h slower at the urban centres. I switch off the radio and enjoy the car engine and the way it stays on the road on a relatively curvy road. High beam on, you drive gretly on these roads filled with refracting elements that tells you clearly the limits of the lines. Around me the dark landscape, when is the last time I drove in such darkness? Above me a sky full of stars nothwithstanding a bright half moon. At one point I would want a Dire Straits cd for the last 45 minutes drive. Junction is actually filled with cheap motels. I arrive at mine, quite exausthed, I did more than 600 miles today. My room is open, the tv set is on Fox News, ranting about Obama's socialism, we are in Texas.

Burger in Austin, fifth day, one

2009-03-04T16:57:00.000-08:00

Writing as i wait for my burger to arrive. 500 miles, I have stopped in Austin to have a look at the city and have a burger in Texas, seems to be the right thing. Pineapple burger, finger crossed. The I-10 is infinite, when you enter Texas, it says 880 miles, probably to El Paso. Sounded dull to drive all day on it. When I got to Houston I decided to make a detour, if one has to drive all day, wants also to get away from the motorway, thus I turned to Route 290 that takes to Austin, and later rejoins the I-10: it was the right decision, the road is pleasant and you get to see ranches, and cattle, and some sort of life. The most picturesque was a little village called Carmine, one could imagine nice stories from this typical Neapolitan first name. It was just few houses and small shops, not in very good shapes,on both sides of the road. I need to stop in one of those places one of these days.
If Houston is incredible because you see the city scape from something like 40 miles away, arriving in Austin from the 290 you first get to a large plain, that extends as far as you can see, but the city is actually not in sight, it is only when you take a speedway ramp that seems like you are at the Roller Coaster and when you are up and turning you see the city. Downtown is lively and studentish, the architecture is somehow majestuose, with the capital building standing at the end of Congress street.
Here is my burger, write to you later, folks.

Graceland - New Orleans, fourth day

2009-03-03T21:22:00.000-08:00

On the motel tv set, on TMC (turner classic movies, needless to say, one of my favourite channels) they give an evening of Hurricane movies, now a John Houston one with Humphrey Bogart, perfect for falling asleep in New Orleans I suppose.

Graceland, Elvis' home, was a surprise, the house lies on the left handside of the route 51 going southwards out of Menphis towards the south, somehow a location that resume Elvis relationship with the musical world of the US. It is a normal route, with gas stations and tires stores, now it is called Elvis Priesley Bd. The property is just on the road the mansion just few tens of yards from traffic.

Graceland museum's stuff, regretfully, is not a bunch of Elvis' replicas, it is very professional and is composed for 90% of african american people. The house, is a large mansion, but not a gigantic villa with forty bedroom. The swimming pool is just an ordinary middle class one. On the ground floor, near the kitchen and the sitting room, the room where his parents slept. The basement and a dependance where probably they spent most of their days. The decorations in true 70s style are worthed the visit. No access to the private rooms upstairs. The collection of outfits is also very interesting as they span from the fifties to the seventies. I should get one of those to drive to LA...

On to the other side of the road where the parking and shops are I get myself a keyholder for my keyset, and a Peanut-Butter and Banana Toast, the one HE was addicted to. It does not taste bad.

stomach and eyes filled, time to drive off. Direction south on the Interstate 55 from Tennesse, across Mississipi and to Louisiana

In Menphis there is still quite lots of snow and is quite cold. Only 50 miles south, however, one enters Mississipi the climate change; for the first time I do not need any heater in the car. North Mississipi, along the I-55, is a vast damp area, one would just expect to see some prison inmates and the dogs chasing them, out of some of those classic movie scenes. It goes on and on.

On the phone I get directions for a AAA office on my way, just north of Jackson, right on the 55. How to find a place in a shopping area? Not everything is listed in those big panels at the entrance. I drive and drive around but could not find it. In the end I ask and finally I find it. Cars or Pedestrians, in the end one need the address. From a lively white haired Mississipi Boy (his own definition) I got maps, guides and many advices for the second part of my trip. But of this I will talk in another post.

Southern Mississipi is a bit more civilized, one sees cattles and crops, I get to Louisiana that light is fading away. Approaching the New Orleans area is amazing, the motorways runs on pilons on a vast area of shallow water and mud. The sunset is a colourful one.

Driving throughNew Orleans one passes just over the dome, one of those sights that is now in everybody's memory. Downtown or the little I have seen in one evening, Canal Street and a section of the French Neighborhood bears no signs of Katrina and has a very cool atmosphere.

on The King's road, third day

2009-03-02T19:21:00.000-08:00

I suppose the key moment of today was driving in the sunset with my red coupé on the same road Elvis used to drive in his gold cadillac on his way back home from recording in Nashville. In Nashville I bought a couple of CDs (no mp3 in the davidemobile) and I listened to Elvis' songs all the way. On the east coast there is a very bad snow storm with about 10" of snow, but today I drove all day in the sunshine. Tennessee is a long orizontal quadrangolar state and I made it from one end to the next. On my way back from the motel in Bridgesport to the 81 I stopped at a Mitsubishi service and asked a machanic to look at the front right light that yesterday evening worked only partially. Talking with a very strong accent that needed all my attention he showd me how that it was only a contact and sent me off, very cool.

Direction Nashville, the land continue to be moved by the Appalachian, thus lots of curves and in certain points it would be good to be on a motorbike. I stop at my one thousandth mile to celebrate, not much around, few miles before had passed a Tennessee Ranch, with caws and pick up.

At the gas station, the lady, as if we were in a movie, told me that "restroom are at the back". Entering in the urban area, a great luminous panel warns you "12 millions illegal immigrants" , "11 millions american unemployed", "anyone sees a solution here?" Brrr, also at the periphery of cities there are the monumental crosses of baptist churches. Downtown Nashville looks very beautiful as you approach it. There are dozens of parkings so leaving the car is not a problem.

Walking finally, circulation for the legs, On Broadway are located the tourist shops and the Music Bars. The tour to the historical RCA studio B starts at 2 30, I join, I am on the bus with 2 couples from London, England and a guy from NY. Look at the driver's hair on the driver's mirror

The studio has been dismissed in 1977, by coincidence the next day after Elvis's death, maybe for this reason as been preserved and has become a tourist site and a recording facility for a nearby university. Country music from the 50s and 60s was recorded here. It is called B because they had such a success that they built a larger one, studio A, However, this remained Elvis favorite studio, I learn; when recording he wanted everybody to be in good mood, and made sure the right atmosphere was there before starting working. Quite different from the business today. There is the piano, Elvis, of course, loved to play.

I choose one of the bars on Broadway to listen to some music live, The Stage. They are playing good music. Inside is quite a scene, the owner was a collector of music memorabilia. There are autographed guitars hanging around. Mirrors in the bathroom are the ultimate country experience.

Customers include what you would expect, the couple near me are very tacky, both around 50, he wears a bird and a motorcycle jacket, she a blue top tightened on the back like the one her mother probably used to dress her in. They drink their first shot arms entwined. On the back of the menu I learn about the place, they played even during the curfew following the assassination of Marthin Luther King. What is the politics of country music? Of the Nashville sound? in the hall of fame of studio B they had the picture of a black singer, a fig leaf? Lots of questions. Time to leave anyway. I should by Menphis before too late in the evening.

through the snow storm to the American Way

2009-03-01T19:49:00.000-08:00

second day, overnight some snow has dropped on the car, my snow wiper was not useless for this trip after all

The I 95 passes south east of Baltimore and then gets to the large ring road around Washington, in the chapter of little difference I can list the followinf, exit in roads go by number, but not exactly sequential, after exit 53 you may find exit 56, and where 54 and 55 ended up? it is that they number the exit with the mileage of the road. thus exit 53 is located at mile 53 of that road. I turn west on the 495 and get round, here directions are very well indicated, I get indication for the I66 when I am still on the 95. Yes the 66, the mitic 66 I have to make just about 30 miles on it before turning south on a state road. When I get onto it I do not loose the opportunity for an historic picture

As I pose for this picture I see some flocks of snow, actually a snow storm is arriving from south, and I will drive for the rest of day in the snow. There is something magic in driving in the falling snow, the flocks they do not hit the windshield, but taken by the aerodinamic flow around the car they fly accross and disappear over the car, you can actually drive without windshield wipers.

From the 66 I turn to the State (virginia) road 29. It is actually much nicer to drive on state roads, interstates are not ideal to enjoy the scenery and there are no houses or stores along. Along the 29 there are a couple of sites of Civil War battles. The terrain is moved the road goes up and down pleasantly, crops and some livestocks, it seems a rich land. It is snowy everywhere, not completely covered.

I arrive in Charlottesville at 1 pm. With Taylor, we go to the city centre, the pedestrian area is is being repaved, Miller, an historic place for its live music, linked recently to Dave Matthews Band (he used to bartend there) is there. Inside is dark and smoky, while we eat a duo starts playing, a piano and an harmonic guy, very old. The atmosphere is decadent and pleasant. I had forgotten my camera, so I ask a bartender if she can send me some, let's see if she does. Otherwise you just have to search the internet for it

Later we go to visit the neoclassic campus of the University of Virginia, designed by Thomas Jefferson whose famous mansion in Monticello (I did not know about it) is just few minutes away. With some regrets I leave at 4, let's hope the snow is not too strong, in case I can come back. The forecast is bad, 7 inches of snow. However both on the 64 and later on the I 81 south the situation is very good. It is possible to continue to drive around 55 m/hour without any problems. The I 81 runs in direction NE-SW following the appalachian mountains, the pass is just before the state boundary between Virginia and Tennessee. Along the way I can make a first evaluation of the car consumption, it get down to 30 miles per gallon, which here is considered quite good. but is less than 15 km per liter....I pass on the other side of the mountains, it is dark already, I am not sure is the major pass or a minor one, but there is less snow here. In Kingsport where my motel is located there are stores where they sell houses, not real estate agency they sell the house, I want to go back tomorrow morning. The address of of the motel was the reason to come, 1900 American Way.

A day full of emotions....

2009-02-28T20:54:00.000-08:00

Leaving was not easy, one needs to get used to the idea and reality of going
the chronicle.
Routes of the day
from farmington:
CT10
Insterstate 84 W to Waterbury
Route 8 S to Bridgeport
Interstate 95 S to New York.

Then, a mess to enter New York

I had planned a route that would get me to southern Manhattan via Brooklyn Bridge, but there was no way that what I encountered in reality resembled what I had marked on map…. There are various problems,
1) I need more detailed maps for complicated areas
2) There are not many indication of the various directions, thus one has actually to know exactly what he is doing. Evidently many people solve this problem with the satellite.
3) On a motorways you get to a junction which you do not expect and are travelling in the traffic at 60 miles per hour, you cannot really stop, the names do not tell you anything, what you do, a) you just continue on your lane and hope it is right b) you make a choice following your instinct and pray it is right. You have 50% to get it right, but if you have to make it 3 times, your chances to get to the right place in the end are just 12,5%….

I got out of I 95 and asked people, got directed to the cross Bronx Highway, what a glourious name!!! This took me again to the 95, they told me I would see sign for Manhattan, and the various bridges, never saw one, when I saw a sign saying “last exit to New York” my instinct told me “it’s now or never old man” "or you’ll just miss it". I found myself at the very north of Manhattan, 181 st. Hit south, found Broadway and drove peacefully my little red car in the middle of yellow taxis till Bleckeer street.

Lunch was very agreeable, as it happen I found out that two people that I know in NY live in the same building! We go to lunch together. Lidia I have not seen for years, she now has a beautiful she-baby, Clara. Conversation goes random about our lives. to problems with teaching, careers, etc. Then the madness starts. I have left the car in the middle of NY with all my luggage inside?!!!! Visible???? Crazy man! They’ll break the window. And you want to travel cross country? Rush back to the car, only parking ticket! Good!!! ;) In any case after collective discussion, phone calls and various weighting of different options, one of my suitcases is taken to an UPS and sent to LA. The rest can more easily be kept away from people’s view. In the meantime, Lidia took some very nice picture of my car.

The afternoon drive is quite straightforward, I set off from NY with good directions and some fears of getting lost around Newark airport, but fond my way with relative ease, and some luck, through Holland Tunnel, back to the I 95 South. I have booked a motel just north of Baltimore in a small village, in Maryland, called Aberdeen. You know I like Scotland. Sounded nice.
I got there by 9 30 pm after an uneventful drive.

I do not look at coupé car the same way I did before...

This is the chronicle, I have to say that the day was full of emotions, leaving Farmington, and this double edged feeling of sadness and euphoria of being alone in an adventure on the road. Then the stress of driving in NY and the issue with the suitcases… a bit too much for the first day, I am a bit shaken. Now I am in this motorway motel, quite comfortable, having a bath, they even provide a small duck on top of the pile of towels!!! Little consolation after the giant Jacuzzi in Farmington. Time to bed folks!

go west!

2009-02-28T03:55:00.000-08:00

At the back of the second picture, the house I stayed this last month, The Root House.
Charging was not too bad, the boot is low but enough to fit the two suitcases, and some other bags, have you seen how it opens!!!

temperature 0°

time 7 30 am

odometer: 121840 (doh!)

direction south, heading for New York.

song Go West! Village People What else
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1wc-AQJ2MYo

song 2 Vuelvo al sur, Astor Piazzolla

I am ready.... brrr

Last day in Farmington

2009-02-27T18:54:00.000-08:00

At ten forty-five, this morning, for the usual friday collective coffee break with my colleague we took cakes and two bottles of wine for our wonderful librarian and staff of the LWL (Lewis Walpole Library). We both got little presents and I got good advice about my trip towards west. I realize I could spent more time researching in their collection. But I also need a clearer focus. At 5 pm I was at the AAA (one of the sound advices) and got from them tour guides and maps of the first days of my trips till Louisiana. I got them for free as member of ACI. Then I went to the Kosovar Auto Dealers and got new windshield wipers and a top up of the coolant. Finger crossed. This evening is raining and the temperature is very high, around 7°
Packing and planning are my duties for tonight. I've got an good idea of the first half of the trip. 1600 miles from Farmington Ct to New Orleans, via New York (lunch tomorrow and Brooklin Bridge) Charlottesville, (lunch sunday, with Taylor LWL former fellow) , Elvis' home in Menphis, and then south to New Orleans...

end of february list

2009-02-24T17:14:00.001-08:00

Another month has elapsed, and I am packing, this is again a good opportunity to make a contribution to the future historian of everyday behaviour with list of variation in what I have collected and lost in the space of the past month. After the end of january list, now we have the end of february list.

New items:

A car (a mitsubishi eclipse, 2000, red, 121000 miles, four cilinder, 2 liters)
-a car insurance
-a US driving Licence
-a snow wiper

-a 9 cell battery for my new netbook (item was actually bought last month, but arrived in february)
-a new pair of soils for my mexican Chiapas EZLN boots (they (boots) sat in the shoe shop for a month but finally I got them back)
-an upgrade in my Netflix account, from 1 movie at a time, to 2.
-two slips to mend textile fabrics
-a new diaper baby cream ( I use it for my armpit when swimming)
new food items
-half bottle of olive oil, (a new bottle)
-half a pound of sugar
-spicy black tea and ginger tea
-5 onions
Items I receive from other people
-cookies from New Haven.
-a pound of dried chickpeas
-cookies of various kind
Other items received
-a folder of research notes and other material from Lewis Walpole Library
- two guides and four route maps of US states.

items consumed or lost

2 pairs of socks
2 deodorants

driving test and licence

2009-02-24T16:32:00.000-08:00

This morning we set off with the dealer to the DMV for my test, they have been very kind in asssisting me in this, while their pards solve the payment details for later. I feel I spent as much time at DMV in february as I did in museums. Lots of waiting, then the officer takes me to my car. This is going to be the first time I drive my car, for the driving licence test, with the sergeant on my side. It rolls well, the brake pedal needs some centimeters to start working. The test actually lasts few minutes, he sees that I am a careful driver. Once out of the car, I tell the officers that the cars is mine just bought it, still have to pay for it, and I am there with the dealer. He laughs for a couple of minutes. Another 30 minutes waiting, and I get my Us driving licence.

a car odissey part 3, getting it, driving it

2009-02-24T16:06:00.000-08:00

Last post I forgot to mention an important moment, getting the plates. Here, I mean in the US, plates do not belong to cars, but rather to people, thus you can have your plates and attach them to your cars, and when you change car you can shift the plates to your new vehicle. This of course change in different specific situations. As I never possessed a vehicle before in CT, I got new plates, which I will have to send back in an envelope to DMV CT when I will sell the car. When I saw my plates it was a moment of emotions, I really got a car. Now paying it. Wiring the money from italy takes too a week. Thus, thanks to the sound advice of a friend back in Italy, I call my bank and I have the limit on my credit card increased. However that was not sufficient because the kosovar dealers do not have a credit card machine..... This I could not believe, in the US! Another stereotype broken. So we go together to their bank where they take two thousands out of my credit card, the rest through the bancomat card in two days, I discovered that there are drive in Bank tellers, and why should I be so surprised?- the last few missing dollars I give them in euros. Finally I can get inside my car.
Inside is low, the automatic shift is well functioning, from the first to the second is a pleasure. The car is overall quite basic, no cruise control, no fancy stuff, a good sound of the autoradio that reads cds. Suspensions (springs?) are not exactly soft, but the car has 121000 miles, and one should not expect too much. Engine runs well. Breaks break.
First drive is to New Haven, for a dinner to colleagues. With 20 dollars I fill the tank. Drives fine.

...here it is....

2009-02-22T12:03:00.001-08:00

Sunday at the Diner

2009-02-22T11:07:00.000-08:00

It is a rainy/snowy sunday, perfect for staying home and making phone calls as I have today in my search for a flat or room in LA. On tv there is KILL BILL 1 and 2 thus not problems with entertaining and later on I am going to the pool. At noon however we went for lunch with Fraukje, my colleague here at Lewis Walpole Library. I knew this place in Plainville (where else?, I got my driving lessons and my car there), a small diner on the main road. Those places you see in movies where the waitress bring you coffe and asks if everything is allright.

We seat at the last table and order pankakes, omelettes, sausages, bacon and eggs. There is a small electronic jukebox at the table, I press random button and Celine Dion starts singing, terrible!

The food is very good, cholesterol for a month, and one has to learn how to order eggs, there are at least four ways in which they come. I had them "medium over". On the way home snow starts.

car odissey part 2 buying

2009-02-22T05:19:00.000-08:00

And thus on a Friday morning I set for the dealer, around noon, the car is there, there is not the guy I spoke with but one of his brothers, new cars have arrived, but there is nothing in my price range, sorry. I'll get the Eclipse then. Ok says he. Standing around the car he tells me what is going to do to the car, oil, brakes, new tires, fixing the lock of the internal box, clean etc. Then we go inside to talk numbers. On top of the agreed price, there is a fee to be payed to the DMV of 125 $, then the sales tax, in Connecticut is not too bad, 6%, and then a handling fee to the dealer of 350$, no wonder I get new tires!!! I must have had a bad face at this last additional price, he lowered the selling price of 200 $ saying let's make this even between us. Over and all is more than 700 bucks on top of the selling price, not cheaper than in Europe I would say.
Next step is insurance, we need insurance for the sale to take place, for them to be able to go to DMV with the paperwork, I call the insurance, I had a quote already, and get it, . As we wait for the fax, I ask about their family, the father who speaks hardly any English is always in the store, not doing much, they are from Kosovo, came over the US around 2000. The date says much. Now I understand about the familiar accent and gestures, it is my Balkan friends from Florence, and especially Punky the soul of BarFiasco and toyota specialist. That early morning in a basement flat when, after a night spent in drinking and singing songs, I, the only "European" in the room was solemnly baptized Balkan by dripping rakia on my nape comes to my mind.
The faxed provisional insurance card is there, let's move on. When I take out my Italian driving licence, in the meantime a third brother has appeared, frowns appears. Connecticut laws only allows US driving licence holder to own a car. What? what ownership has to do with driving licence? They call DMV, I need to get a non-driver identification, in order to be able to buy the car, oh dear. New plan, I set off with the first brother, the one I originally talked to, to DMV. My Kosovar friend has to push around the first rank of desks to get to the sergeant, than we get the paper for a request of a CT identity card. Fortunately I have my SSN (social security number) with me, as they want that as proof of identification. They have already my case gone through immigration last week thus we do not wait too long. My misspelled name is called, I go to the counter, it is not me, somebody called David Lombardi, he shows up behind me. I go back to my seat. I ask my kosovar dealer about the emigration to the states. He comes up with a fascinating story about an entire family crossing borders on foot to Macedonia then Bulgaria, to avoid patrols and checkpoints, till Czech territory and then finally Germany. From there then to the US. He only went back once and found his wife there. His first son was recently born.
My name is called , we go and a conversation starts with the black guy at the counter it is about soccer, best Italian team, Juventus, Milan, the black guy is very disappointed by Juventus cheating, the Kosovar is more keen on German football, the conversation moves on, Matarazzi and Zidane, sympathies go to Matarazzi, The African American has a new topic, why on earth is American football called football if they do not ever touch it with their feet? Anyway he does not like it. My card appear, he shakes my hand, "welcome to America, sir". Back to the store, paperwork completed, I see they are working on the car, I have to go back.
It is four when I am back to the library, I check out my bank account to wire the money. The server is down for extraordinary maintenance. Forget about getting it done before Monday.

car odissey part 1 searching

2009-02-20T15:28:00.000-08:00

These last days I have spend each afternoon after 4 in searching for the right car, but basically my budget was quite low. A number of dealers, the clean one with large stores along major routes dismissed me. They had hundreds of cars out there, but when I said that I was looking for something around the three thousands they looked up and then said that they did not have anything, or pointed to something around 4000. I reckoned I should explore the smaller dealer. Looking online I found that there were about 4 of them in Plainville, where I passed my driving course. I visited them, with no great results. The general answer was, we do not have that much, one asked me if I wanted a SUV, but I denied the possibility. Another, after listening to my story told me that it was not worth, then offered something at 1500, "but it runs funnily". They all told me to come back as they get new cars every day. "By the end of the week we have new cars coming" thus I thought that by the end of this week I might be able to get one. In the middle of all this, I had to think about road service. The AAA is the most famous US road service, there is a Branch just few miles down route 10 in a plaza, inside is full of gadgets, there is a shop, a road service section and an insurance area. The people at the road service are very nice, a lady explain me how to join and what the service are. Then it hits me. I am a member of the Italian Automobile Club ACI. I take my card out. There is a logo in it, "Show your card" it says. And it functions. I do not need new coverage, I am covered by my Italian club, Yuppieeee!!!!
Another dealer, this is a family one. Funny, familiar accent. They do not have anything, come back at the end , we are off to an auction and will bring more cars. We have only a Mitsubishi. I look at it, and walk away unconvinced. Yesterday, Thursday, I start the end of the week tour. Nothing has arrived for my price range. mmmmm, damn!!! Driving by I look at the Mitsubishi again. It is an Eclipse, sort of sport-looking, red. I stop and get its VIN. The Vehicle Identification Number allows you to access all records on a single vehicle. From revision, to accidents, to owners etc to mileage etc. You can access these information online by paying a small fee (25 $) to private companies. I check, the car is clean. In the meantime a thought has formed in my mind. This may not be a 1970s Dodge Challenger, the one I would dream of now, and which I could not afford anyway, but it is exactly

the car I wanted when I was 1 years old age

my mother used to tell this story: 1 year old, I get a present, a red sporty toy car, one of those you push with one hand. I start to cry desperately because, allegedly I wanted to get in. It took few years (many) but I am finally able to do it.
The US may not be the land of opportunities they used to be, but is still America the land where dream, especially children ones, can be fullfilled!!!!

Physiology of Thaw

2009-02-16T13:08:00.000-08:00

The great melting has started, fascinating! for about a week we have had daytime temperature above 0° and above all no snowing. As a result the snow has started melting away, and is greatly reduced everywhere.

In New Haven has almost completely disappeared, here in Farmington is still the dominant feature of the landscape. As much as I was enthralled by fresh snow covering the landscape with its sound-proofing veil, I am mesmerized by the process of melting , that is more complicated than one can think. First of all, few basic facts, known to everybody but to be reminded anyway, snow does not melt easily, it is not few hours at positive C° that will make snow melt away.

As fresh snow is lacking the result of few temperature excursion above melting point is that a icy layer get to be created both at the bottom and at the top of the snow. The behaviour of snow moulds depends on what sort of base they lay. Whether water is absorbed and other factors like colour, temperature, direct or indirect exposure to the sun or other sources of heat. . On cement for instance, water freezes and thus produces this ice area at the border, on top and likely at the bottom of snow piles. Another sign that the snow is melting is that the surface that was so smooth and regular starts to become uneaven with irregular patterns due to the repeated process of melting and freezing.

More outstandingly snow areas starts to recede at the borders, at the corners and around trees, thus uncovering whatever lies underneath, grass, mud, tar and so on. Around tree trunks a depression is created that slowly frees the wood from the white embrace.

In urban areas and along the roads the behaviour of snow thawing is altogether different seasons, celestial bodies and traditional imagery is not useful and we need to resort to other sorts of images to convey a fitting image. To keep roads and sidewalks free snow is piled up alongside often to waist height. After a week or so without new snow, unregarding of temperature change, snow along roads with decent traffic will become grey from the dirt spashed over by the wheels and exhausts passing by. They start to look like masses of translucid dust being deposited by giant snails in a colossal transmigration.

Larger piles look like they are ill or cancerous woulded creatures, or freakures. As if remnants of a failed alien invasion (don't they choose always small towns?), they lay there, like dying blobs, under the deadly sunrays, and humans, that only a week before walked shy and careful along the white space, like en endangered species in a conquered territory, throw litter empty bottles and sigarette butts onto them, as a final humiliation of the defeated enemy

Donuts

2009-02-15T07:04:00.000-08:00

Finally yesterday I had my first donut. With my friends from New Haven we spent the day spent at the Wadsworth Museum in Hartford http://www.wadsworthatheneum.org/ , we imagined a small museum, and we found ourselves in a major one with huge three floors collection of both european and american paintings, forniture, objects, textiles. We thought we would spend one hour, but after 1 floor and 1/2 we decided we should give in, have lunch and continue our visit afterwards. Hartford is supposed to be a large city, but on saturday afternoon nobody was on the street and even the tourist information was closed. It is the capital city of Connecticut and there is a mix of architecture that makes the mind of an European spin. Modern towers erects themselves alongside the nineteenth century fake medieval, and by now I am used to this, but then, beyond a park one sees a sort of bavarian castle, with a golden dome, it is the capital building, whatever that may mean. If you go nearer it looks more like a 1930s building. Near it a gothic arc with with two conic elements on top is the Civil War Sailors' and Soldiers' memorial Arch. "Mah" one would say in italian.

On the way to New Haven a long-awaited American experience, stopping at a Dunkin' Donuts. Sugar flour and fat in a round shape, I should have gone bare chested to the counter drooling like Homer Simpson, but he eats them at home. I even bought a six pack for my colleague at farmington who leaves tomorrow morning. I look pretty happy. There are other images of the donut experience added to the slideshow.

DMV

2009-02-13T12:48:00.000-08:00

today I went to pass the knowledge test for the driving licence; the nearer DMV, Department of Motor Vehicles, is in New Britain , 10 minutes by car from Farmington, they open at 8 I was there at 7 45, with a little crowd of 20 people. Yesterday it was closed all day for the anticipation of some sort of public holiday, Washington Birthday that is next Monday (the third of February), thus I am entitled to presume that today there is a bit more people than the usual. It is a fine morning but a chill wind is blowing and everybody is shivering. There is not a cue in the English sense of the term but people gather in a sort of sequential way respecting more or less their position. The lady near me interrupts her conversation with her friend with a series of "cogno, cogno cogno, cogno..." each time that a chilly gust of wind caresses our backs. At 8 02 the building opens, the crowd has in the meantime grown to the hundredth. Get the number and wait for it on the screen. As proofs of residence I've got two netflix envelope and one from the driving school. They are accepted. My requests remains for a while there, checking the immigration status, they explain me, finally after about 1 hour I get called and brought before the computer, 25 question I am allowed 5 mistakes. Difficult to fail. Next riddle to be solved... find a car to pass the driving test ....

d(r)iving deeper in US

2009-02-08T13:20:00.000-08:00

as part of the requirements for a new driving licence, the state of Connecticut asks anyone unregarding of their experience to take an 8 hours course of theory of safe driving. Thus I spent yesterday and today, saturday and sunday 9 am to 1 pm sitting in this driving school in the nearby small town of Plainville to get this certificate. We were six "pupils" all male, starting from the back rows these were : 2 teenagers brought by their mothers, one round and with acne wearing a black sweater with stars and skulls, the other long and fair-skinned had a sort of pine-nut face, a 19th years old guy looking older and very crossed, The a guy in his late forties, a second hand car dealer,who had lost his licence because of drunkness at the wheel, and had then taken another two years because of being found driving, then a 26 years old, latino looking guy with his entire body -as we learned- covered in tattoes and who in the past stole cars, lastly in the second row, your affectionate friend. The school itself was unpretentious to say the least, like the guy running it, who started the first class with a daring statement, "you wouldn't want to be here, I would not want to be here, thus let's take this easy". What followed was a mix of videos, tips about the test and lots of casual conversation about cars and cops. The instructor was really taking it easy, for instance the same second he distributed one test he would start a casual conversation affecting everybody's attention. In terms of road regulations, difference are of course scarses, some however are worth a note. Pedestrians have always the right of way. Not just on crosswalk but always. What is the rationale? I speculate that this comes from two things, first not many people walk , second those who walk are mostly adoloscents old enough to go on their own and not old enough to have access to a car. The second difference is again about children, schoolbuses have lights to signal you to stop.
The two adolescents at coffee break would reappear with a obscene quantity of crisps and pop corn to be consumed in the second haf of class. The best line of the weekend however belongs to the tatooed car thief! On the second daywhen the instructor said that in Febraury there is not much queueing and that we all could be all driving next week, he commented
"oh, my Mum will be so happy"!!!!
isn't life wonderful?

coffe breaks

2009-02-06T19:46:00.000-08:00

The Lewis Walpole Library (the picture is actually of the Root House the other 18th century house of the complex, the one reserved to fellows and researchers) is a sort of alpha and omega of the collectors world, its name comes from the name of Horace Walpole, on of the great British collectors on first half of the 18th century and Wilmhart Sheldon Lewis an American collector passionately in love with Walpole's collection or Walpoliana. The beginning and the end of the great age of collecting? The library was his house a 18th century (what else?) house. In 1928 He and his wife (It's her in the portrait over the fireplace, she was the one with big money) built another wing, or annex, a large beautiful room, that was then calle the New Library, and has kept its name even after that another building has been recently added to house the modern library. Books have been moved and now the New Library is a place for meeting and coffee breaks.

Walmart

2009-02-06T19:03:00.000-08:00

my first visit to Walmart, I had a precise idea, drive on route 6 till you find it. My mission to buy patches to repair my raincoat I teared falling on ice about a week ago. I thought it would be so big I would not miss it and instead I missed it. After about half an hour driving southwest, the third Dunkin' Donuts, a Burger King and one McDonald, I made an U-turn and then I found it, it is relatively close to where I live. It must not be a giant one, I would say the size of a big European one, like a Carrefour in France. This is just an overview, I was tired after swimming and searching, and did not want to be too analytical.
Anyway just right after the entrance there is a Subway, which is a cheap version of fast food, then starts the clothing section. basically you have to put together, a large clothing supermarket, with a children toys shop, a pharmacy, a warehouse of house equipment, car and other toys for men and women, a gardening section, the food area is small, just to get together a quick meal. Prices are low, but now I do not remember them, I had a look in the men section. There are very few long socks, the majority of more elegant socks seems to be just at calf level. You find nylon socks for men, I remember I first saw them in Spain, they have them here too, knee-lenght only blue one made in china. The underpants section is dominated by boxers, for about 70 % then very large slip high on the waist. Funny colours on offer, red or bright blue, as if superman had gone schizophrenic.
I could not resist looking if the weapon section was present, the one that shocked European public opinion. Near the fishing section there is a section with some toy guns, in the section nearby three male adolescents with their hood on are talking in a section nearby, a little shiver runs on my back, a father and a son are nearby, the son, about 13 years old is looking at gun's padded covers, the father seems a little embarrassed at the son's enthusiasm. I peek further, there are some kit for simple guns, no serious weapon, nothing like in Micheal Moore, no automatic guns. I am thinking of heading away when a male shop-assistant asks me if I am finding what I was looking for... I answer that actually I am looking for those patches to be used instead of sewing, near the sewing machine maybe? he looks at me strangely, the combination of question and accent must be at least puzzling but possibly self annulling . I tour another while, find the sewing machines, mission accomplished. I can go back home.

a bit colder please

2009-02-05T05:00:00.000-08:00

- 17 c° uau!! I think I have never seen the thermometer that low! Yet the sun is out and it looks beautiful. I was actually feeling cold yesterday walking to the dray laundry, but thought I was just tired and that it would be around -8 or so. The lady in the launderette, as soon as I opened my mouth, started to speak me in spanish.
I got a first answer about the issue in my previous post. Schools close, so that parents that live far, where road condition gets very bad, can get home. On another tone, I discovered that there is a Wall Mart quite close, thus soon I will have this ultimate American experience. Maybe tonight after the pool.

how do parents cope?

2009-02-03T10:19:00.000-08:00

Over lunch break, I met with the housekeeper, he really seems out of a novel, tall and slim, he told me the funny anecdotes of the other fellows, like cooking a steak and the fire alarm going off. It is snowing intensely, today we expect 3 inches of snow. Nonetheless I was surprised to see broadcasted the announcement of early closing of the school because of that. 3 inches of snow are sufficient for school to close? in New England, not in Egypt. Besides, how do parents cope with that? This opens a number of interesting questions....

first day of routine

2009-02-03T04:56:00.000-08:00

Last night has snowed, not much but this morning a new layer of snow has covered walkways and cars. Yesterday first workday in farmington. The Lewis Walpole Library was renovated recently with the building of a new section with a modern reading room, the customers today are the three fellows, none else; however, the doors are locked and you can ring to entry. Both at the entrance door and at for the reading room. Apart from that, we have our kitchenette with coffee maker and a beautiful other room, called by its old name the new library, where to sit and chat or read something else. The reading room is very comfortable, the table is designed for people who work on books and not computers, however there are retractable panel that you can use for your laptop. The staff is helpful and knowledgeble to say the least of it. It is cold in there, at lunchtime I had to come back and add a couple of layers under my shirt and sweater. I spent the mornng studying the card catalogues and their mutual relationship and with the online catalogue and digitalized image catalogue. You can do a lot between 8 30 and 4 30, and when you are done, you are weary, yet there is still lots of time before you. if you do not have to drive home, you can just collapse on the sofa, I resisted the temptation and went swimming, relaxed in the giant jacuzzi, then bought some stuff at the supermarket, cooked dinner, black long rice and asparagus, and watched a classic soviet movie I received through Netflix in the morning: Ballad of a soldier, a 1959 war drama, very romantic, tearful, and intense. Exactly what I needed. Then I went online and saw Little Britain, series 2 episode 6, excellent episode, to end the day with a laughter. I think I will cook dinner for my flatmates one of this days, maybe wednesday.

link to pictures

2009-01-31T15:11:00.000-08:00

I've just met my colleague from the Netherlands, she is making a blog too, with lots of pictures, If you want to have a look at our house you can have a look at her site
http://fwoukje.blog2blog.nl/

new places, new pools...

2009-01-31T14:37:00.000-08:00

first day, a subscription to a swimming pool. One of the tranferable ingredients of my daily life. Five miles, going north, (here road signs remind you which compass direction you are travelling, one of those little differences...) to west hartford. Very nice recreational complex, with golf and other amenities and a pool. No locker goes stably with the subscription, sniff :( , but I can go everyday , it is very nice and neat. Luxury: at the end you can relax in a giant jacuzzi for about 20 people, with soaped warm water massaging your back (no girls washing your shoulder).
I went for a drive towards north, beautiful landscape, ligtly ondulated, with farms and forests, and water, all covered in snow. I stopped by a couple of used cars places, just to check. To get a car for a reasonable price seems feasable. One interesting comment from a seller, he asked me , "you want american or foreign" after I answered I did not care, he continued, "you know american cars come second, people want foreign". I stopped to get gazoline. With the tank quite low, I went to the counter for prepaying (it is the case if you pay cash) I had an automatism from Italy, I asked for 30 $, fortunately she did not have change for the 100 hundred bill (very hard to get one of those changed). I put 17 $ and gallons and gallons poured down, and the tank is almost full. Now I understand the strange look of the girl when I said 30 dollars!!!

on the road (briefly)

2009-01-30T19:14:00.000-08:00

a white nissan sentra, this will be my car for february, neat car, we go through it with the company employee, a small scratch on the lower right side ( I had not seen it, but she played fair). then on I go.

The street condition are excellent, I basically proceed north on route 10 till my destination, I pass various centres, Hamden, Cheeshire, Mildale, Southington, and so on. The density of houses increases, then it decreases again. From time to time, a river, a wood, a pond of water. There is a lot of water in New England. If one looks at the map it is a little disconcerting to see the name of the places: Durham, Portland, Bristol, Middletown, New Britain, Oxford, then an indian name Quinnipac that has survived somehow reminds you that we have crossed the atlantic. The speed limits shift by the 5 miles, 20, 25, 30, 35, 40, I managed to see briefly a 45 that's all. Near schools signposts warn that "fines are doubled". Around Cheeshire there is a large place of used cars, I could go back one of these days to have a look. The most striking features are cemeteris, they are not like grove street cemetery, a walled cemetery, they are just lying there, on the side of the main street, looking at the street, with hardly any fences. I will watch a zombie movie tonight. I pass at least 5 donuts, I have to check if I can watch the Simpson online...

It takes about 90 minutes to get to Farmington. I register, I settle in. Here is my new house and my car, parked in front of it. good night.

Sally's pizzas

2009-01-30T08:33:00.000-08:00

Yesterday evening, for our last evening in New Haven, we went for Sally's, the most famous among the pizza places. New Haven's Little Italy is conveniently located in Olive street. There is an arch with red green and white neon light, a several restarurants and shops,

I will post a couple of pictures taken by my colleague as soon as I will get them. Anyway, Sally's Apizza is shabby, like those rosticceria's that one can find near train stations in Italy, with benches and wooden table, it has been kept with a similar to its 1938 outlook as a photo testify, probably renovated last time in the 1980 and never since. There is nothing to it Italian, not a flag, not a picture, not a map, not even a photo of Sophia Loren!!! This felt reassuring!

No wine, only beer, or sodas. One can choose the ingredients, from a list of about 10, and the pizza comes in three sizes. We were 5, 1 Italian, 2 french, 2 Americans, we ordered 2 medium pizzas to be divided, as instructed, one pizza decided by the "Europeans" -sliced tomatoes, mozzarella and olives (they added the garlic), the other by the "Americans", tomato sauce, mozzarella, mushroom, sousage, pepperoni (which is not peppers but a a kind of salami) "it's good with two meats" they said. The place was not filled, however it took half an hour to get our pizzas, They were of the thin sort, cooked in brick oven, both very good, perfectly cooked and tasty!!!!!!!!

consumer culture, material boy

2009-01-30T06:35:00.000-08:00

How much stuff do we need (and not) to just live our lives? I have been in the US for exactly a month now, as I am packing my stuff to go to Farmington this afternoon, I am looking at what things have added themselves to my belongings. How much was I able to collect in one month? what went lost? here is a complete list to the use of future historians: * = things I have received

more durable items

netbook
electrical transformer from 110 t0 220
I swimming pants
a pair of snickers
a cellphone
two sim cards
cable vga
cable audio
1 2gb flashdrive *

consumable

4 blank dvd discs ( I needed one but the smallest was a 5 pack)
I shower gel
adesive tape
a lighter
1 packed roll of toilet paper
washing powder
cough syrup (when I arrived I was a bit ill)
a copy book

Edible stuff I bought and am taking with me

tea *
salt 1 pound
vitamin c tablets
soya lecitin tablets
curry powder
cloves
ginger powder
soya souce
2 bananas
fresh onions
5 onions
6 lemons
tahinna
garlic
olive oil
rice 1/2 pound
black beans 1 pound
lentils 1 pound
green beens 1 pound
4 carrots
Peanut butter *

other

an SSN Social Security Number
two envelopes of printed research paper
I folder with paper stuff from the YCBA *
I passport size leather folder from Yale university *

things that have hitherto left my belongings

2 or 3 pairs of socks
1 t-shirt
1 towel (misteriously disappeared from the laundry room)
1 scarf (I left it somewhere)

items on hold

a 9 cell battery fo my netbook (not yet arrived)
my EZLN boots from chiapas, (to a repair shop)

Art in Context

2009-01-27T19:50:00.000-08:00

AiC day is over, the day of my talk at the Yale Center for British Art. It was in one of the galleries of the museum where Canaletto's views of London are displayed. They added a table with the material I had chosen, (see post of a couple of days ago) and then a little crowd of about 30 people gathered. I was quite relaxed, and I think that did not go too bad.

Two day only are left in New Haven, Today, I've received the reservation for my rental car for february, on friday I will pick it up and drive toward Farmington, my destination ( in the carabinieri's sense of the word) for the month of february, not very far, like going from Florence to Pontedera. however, adventure, adventure....
here is the link to the map
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=new+haven+ct&daddr=farmington+ct&hl=en&geocode=&mra=ls&sll=41.517345,-72.812675&sspn=0.490471,0.878906&ie=UTF8&ll=41.517345,-72.812675&spn=1.961851,3.515625&z=8
Before leaving however I still need to do -and to write- some more things in New Haven, I need to talk about the libraries here and I have discovered that from all over the state they come to eat Pizza here. So thursday, the last evening, we will go with my colleagues to eat the famous new haven pizza.

lap-top love

2009-01-26T20:23:00.000-08:00

Ok. I've reharsed the talk enough, I feel like I am ready for tomorrow performance.
Before going to bed I can write about my new netbook while using it. I had to leave in Italy my new Lenovo laptop and take with me the old faithful Presario. But the illusory power of the € has taken hold of me and I bought online after long (s)considerations a MSI Wind U 100, 10 inches wide (small) screen. It comes with 1.6 gzh processor, windows xp and 160gb 2.5" harddrive. The smaller ones being too small, and the larger ones being too expensive I decided that this was the best deal. I got myself the transparent stickers for the keyboard so that I can have the italian keyboard signs in yellow on top of the US keyboard keys. It is only few days that I have been having it, the screen still seems pretty small, but the keyboard is large enough to work without problems.

So now I've got two computer, the presario doesn't look jealous, quite happy of the new company, maybe it doesn't feel challenged because of the larger screen?

they get along pretty well, don't they? maybe too much.

before... during?... after? What is this? some kind of photo taking lapsus?

I better go to sleep now.

more tension, of the good kind

2009-01-26T12:18:00.000-08:00

Sorry folks I have not written anything yesterday, I am busy preparing my Art in Context talk. Tomorrow I am going to talk at 12 30 eastern time, about my research here at the Yale Center for British Art. The talk will be short only 25 minutes and focus on two images: a panorama of London (cosmoramic view, that is the original title) and a comic "picture of london" with pickpocketing, false auctions and other dangers of the metropolis.

here they are:

a politics of horror

2009-01-24T20:43:00.000-08:00

to watch a politically loaded movie in the US you might also head for the horror s(h)elf. The Nightmare in Elm Street series is fantastically political in its depiction of suburban white middle class values and lifestyle, Wes Craven has gone even further with The People Under the Stairs. And one should not forget that Romero's Dawn of the Dead, with the wonderful scene of the zombies banging on the doors of the mall because they remember feelingt happy there when alive.
Tonight I've found another example of this thread. Joe Dante's Homecoming, a TV movie waving between grotesque humour and classic zombie scenes: dead soldiers from the Iraq's war are back in the street of America. Why? They want to vote at the national election, and then rest in peace. But the republicans steal the results and ...

Any suggestion for other titles in this list? comments? I am inclined to think that this thread developed in the 1980s; maybe horror consents to sidestep politically correctness and allow a more radical gaze to be displayed..

more real than the real thing

2009-01-22T05:25:00.000-08:00

First Italian restaurant, courtesy of the Center, Scoozzi, it is a rather cool place, no pictures of vesuvio or mandolini hanging from the wall, just to set up the scene. With the help of my neighbours I set up for my first italo-american experience.
The menu is quite and interesting item of cultural hybridization, it is divided in sections, with the Italian heading : "primo" and "secondo", but really it is a distinction between entree and main course dishes. with the pasta and the risotti being placed under the "secondo" together with the beefsteak.
Second little difference, olive oil, of very good quality is provided right before the meal, from the bottle into some small bowls spread on the table. To dip the bread, I am told this is an usual feature in Italian restaurants.
I set for a "bruschetta", of toasted bread with cold crab spread, I am not enthusiast. For my main course I went for the dish with most garlic in it, I want to check on the urban legend about garlic, fettuccine olive oil and garlic. When they arrive they smell strongly of garlic, but then the taste is just fine, quite mild. there seems to be turnips tops, and lots of cubes of meat about, a little tomato, overall quite good. There is not grated cheese on the table, and no pepper either, both come with the waiters. The lady on my left is having a mushroom risotto, a waitress arrives with a grater and offer some fresh parmesan, (a blasphemy in the highly normative italian cooking etiquette. It was offered only to her, not to me, I had some pecorino cheese on my pasta.

day after

2009-01-20T11:27:00.001-08:00

It was all very composed, almost restrained, they clapped they hands with sincerity and measure. We were in the lecture hall, the screening was on, as the ceremony proceeded towards its climax the room filled slowly with people, not just from the administration, but also visitors, and a couple of classes of school kids aged about 5 or 6, well behaved.

Most faces were serious, some smiled openly. The faces of black people on the screen (there is but a few in the hall) remind me of the what is political joy, and my mind goes to 1996, in italy, the first victory of the left after 130 years of history of the italian parliament, after more than 50 of republican regime. This transition, for african-americans, as they are called here, is even more dramatic.

I cannot judge Obama's speech, a political speech need to be weighted against the other speeches of the person, and the other speeches in that occasion and I do not have that sort of knowledge. In the Yale News, the university paper they have interviewed three political science professor, they all agree that the speech was a down to earth one, lacking the memorable phrase, that it evoked american values and past, that marked a shift from the past as it did not use the word freedom and democracy when addressing the international scenario.
It was felt undoubtedly as an event, it seems that the stopping of normal business, the large screens put up in public offices, the television screens being set in coffes, all of this is quite extraordinary as they explained to me.
But I do not think that it was the somewhat plain tone that kept the lecture hall so quiet, it was the spectatorial position that everybody unspokenly agreed to keep mixed with that sort of institutional framework that makes people more reserved. Thus they did not raise for the anthem, and few murmured it at low voice on their own, two or three clapped their hands at the passage about terrorism but the others did not follow. Not one hand moved for Bush when Obama thanked him. They only cheered for Aretha Franklin.
And they laughed at the only humorous moment of the ceremony, the one when the reverend -known I think for not being a liberal- jockingly referred to races:

"Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around -- (laughter) -- when yellow will be mellow -- (laughter) -- when the red man can get ahead, man -- (laughter) -- and when white will embrace what is right.
Let all those who do justice and love mercy say amen. "

even Obama, who was very tense, smiled.
Among us we commented that the grandiosity of the ceremony and the gathering reminded us of the kind of celebrations held in the ancien regime. The difference, I add, is that at time the sovereign would distribute money to the populace, and here it is the followers who collect money for the leader.

This morning one colleague told me, "it was so good to wake up and think : Obama is the president"

2009-01-20T05:53:00.000-08:00

seaside adventure

2009-01-19T14:45:00.000-08:00

New Haven stands in a bay that made it an ideal site for an harbour. The G bus line takes you from downtown right to the Lighthouse Point Park some 5 miles from the center. At the bus company stand, they do not give you tickets, but you get tokens (like when you are a kid at the fair) that you insert in a machine when you get on the bus. They look like this, the hand is Marieanne's

We were three on our walk, Viccy, Marieanne and me. They are also visiting fellows at the YCBA. The park was deserted, beside the small lighthouse, there is an old carousel inside a large building. In sheltered corners one could see the seawater turning into ice.

We walked back all the way to the city, along other parks, a military base, this picture was taken from a fort that resisted English vessels during the revolution. It was an idea of Viccy to try to catch the light, and it did not came too bad.

Suburban streets filled with middle class housing followed, then motorways and railway junctions and the harbour, overall a very industrial area smelling of oil and exhaust fumes.

a sunday walk

2009-01-18T18:26:00.000-08:00

Today is a beautiful snowing day, the roofs from my window once again dressed in white. I say again because the snow on rooftops melts overnight, a sign of the bad insulation. I set off around 10 toward the New Haven Historical Museum, for a morning of learning and education before setting for the Sunday opening hourse of the YCBA (Yale Center of British Art). The museum is at the confluence of Temple street and Whitney Avenue, the same way I took a week ago to East Rock Park (see post Jan 13thHowever The museum is closed on Sundays. No erudition (But if you desperately seek a crash course about New Haven's History you can browse the new Attaliano's slideshow). As I was heading back, thinking on how to spend the following two hours this sculpture appeared in front of me.

Where to go? Looking at the map the Grove Street Cemetery is close by, a dear friend of mine had mentioned it (thank you, Galina) and so I decided to pay a visit. How perfect, a cemetery in the snow. It is an historical cemetery, where people from the city and from Yale are buried. There are many stones that are almost or completely illegible; mostly they are from the last two centuries. The tombstones are usually very simple very often with indication for a husband and wife. Some carry the information on the profession, such and such, professor of xy, Yale class of xxxx. One president of Yale got his burial surrounded by a fence embracing him. One striking feature are the small American flags planted on many tombs. It seems to me that some of them were somehow connected with military merit. I you have managed to survive the carnage, and died in your bed (otherwise you would not find yourself in this cemetery) and are not buried along with your buddies in a war cemetery, you get however a little flag. Part of the nation’s respect for its –dead- veterans? I may be wrong. And were all of the flags for military? No academic got a flag, and no women, however, this need further investigation.

From the cemetery gate, one can head toward the WWI memorial, a building called Commons that still I have to undestrand what is it there for. (left picture) The courtyard was strangely free of snow after a night snowing, how did they do that, do they heat the couryard from below. there is also a rotonda in memory of the American revolution and the civil war. Close by also the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library ( the modern building at the back of the picture on the right, at the forefront the Book and Snake building). I will visit it on thursday.

Louis Kahn and art in New Haven

2009-01-17T18:14:00.000-08:00

In the middle of this campus all built in neogothic style there are two building of the early period of postmodern architecture, both were projected by architect Louis Kahn, one is the Yale University Art Gallery (top picture) and it is one of his first projects, the second lies just across the street, (Chapel Street) and is the Yale Center for British Art, (bottom picture) the center I am a visiting fellow of for this month of January, and it was one of his last projects. Thus in the space of few hundreds of metres one can play with the illusion of being able to grasp the entire life of this outsdanding architect. If you want an introduction to his life and buildings you can watch My Architect, a son's journey, a documentary made by his son. Not bad. Together with two friends who have come up from New York, we have spent the day in these two museums. Kahn always worked with reinforced concrete. The two buildings are quite different, the Yale Art Gallery, built in 1953, is symmetrical, geometrical, its quadrangular façade on York street is very beautiful, especially in the evening when some of the square elements, the windows, get lighted from the inside and produce a checkers effect. Inside the triangular shaped staircase is also very impressive, however the vast spaces of the museum are dominated by the ceilings, a thick ceiling made of a repetitive hexagonal element made of pyramidal elements some open and some simply void. The overall effect is that of an regular repetition of triangular shapes that hang over you. It made me feel in a place designed to mimick an obsessive and disturbed mind. Some galleries were closed and we could not visit the contemporary and European art sections, however, the ancient Americas rooms, the African art and the Oriental section were open and are mindblowing as you are thrown from one set of forms, of faces, of shapes to another, from ritual masks covered in antelope's skin to deities in the course of shifting sex, to a 2 century a.d. sculpture of a football game, complete with spectators. And you keep wondering how to make sense of all this otherness and displacement.

Across the road, to the Yale Center for British Art you feel in another dimension, either for the building and for the art. It was completed in 1977, three years after the death of Kahn.The façade is not at all impressive, quite anonymous. However inside great spaces, two quadrangular courtyard one containing a cylindrical staircase. Light coming from large windows on the side, your gaze able to reach across the building through the windows over the courtyards and more light from the roof windows over the permanent collection hosted in the fourth floor. The museum hosts the collection by Paul Mellon, collector of British art who hired and payed Kahn to project this building. It is almost entirely dedicated to British painting of the xvii and xviii century. Gainsborough, Reynolds, Hogarth, just to mention some names. Maybe because of all this natural light coming from everywhere, of the whole collection I particularly enjoyed Turner's landscapes with their fantastic rendering of sunlight.