Another Country

The first film I saw for 2012 was so beautiful it made me cry.  But I wouldn’t expect everyone to like it.  Still, I think if you like the blog you might just see what I mean.

Angele et Tony is set in Normandy but as I watched it I saw a lot of what I love about Italy.  Buildings that blend with nature so that it’s hard to know where one ends and the other begins.  People whose characters and beliefs are marked and molded by their place of birth.  Family, for better or worse. Belonging.  Continuity.  Honour.  Men and women doing the work their father and mother did before them.  Man and landscape, hand in glove.  The French might call it terroir.  

Another day....Corso Vannucci, Perugia

Living in Australia is wasted on me.  Multiculturalism means access to a thousand imported cultures, a hundred cuisines but I don’t make the most of it.  Instead I crave what I call the ‘vertical’ cultures of Italy and France.  Layered and concentrated.  Rooted to the spot.  Intensely local.  I love the way beliefs, accents, language change from one village to the next twenty kilometres away.  Nuance, sfumatura.  Ritual in step with the seasons.  Nature again.  Nothing is the same and nothing changes. People are flawed and complex and all the more beautiful for it.  Perfection in imperfection.

Comments 2

  1. loafandlearn January 12, 2012

    Loved the phrase vertical cultures. I get what you mean. I think locality, being part of your community and connection, is becoming more important in a time of heightened speedy technology.

    What do people do when given the opportunity to connect? grasp it. Connection to place stirs the heart and it is amazing how the body can respond to a place it has never physically been to as if it is a long lost home. And pine when it is away

  2. janinevasta January 12, 2012

    And I love that you get what I mean Sarah! Thanks so much for the beautiful comment. Amazing indeed the physical pain of missing a place, you’re absolutely right. Pining for somewhere else sounds so antique, or it used to. Instead I’m discovering it’s going on all around me. Where we really belong and where we live or were born are so often different places. It’s so nice to know it’s not just me who sees that.

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