THE ARCHIVE

Thanksgiving brings to mind food, family, and freedom (from school or otherwise). Being in Rome, I worried that I would miss out on this alliterative triumvirate of holiday joy. My family is far away in Pennsylvania and turkey isn’t exactly Italy’s national dish. Fortunately, Cornell took on a surrogate role for the night and Palazzo Lazzaroni became a bustling foreign outpost for the American tradition.

The university provided turkey (tacchino in italiano) and everyone brought a dish of their own to add to the pot-luck. I noticed that many students borrowed family recipes in an attempt to emulate parents and grandparents. This resulted in a broad array of food reflecting the diversity of our class; chicken mole and empanadas were among the best dishes of the night. I contributed my own ethnic dish (pictured below) and it received good reviews despite being served in a frying pan.

My bike emerged from storage today for one last ride on Italian soil. I was initially hesitant to face Roman traffic on two wheels but everything went well and I didn’t provoke a single honk. My only mishap was getting tangled in caution tape at an intersection–but I suppose this was a source of amusement for the drivers rather than a cause for irritation.

I fashioned a sporadic route that led from Tiberina Island through the southern districts of Rome. Passing Circo Massimo and the Terme di Caracalla, I followed the Via Appia Antica through Porta San Sebastiano to the park of the Catacombs. My road bike didn’t fare too well on the cobble stones of the Appian Way, so I turned toward the housing developments of Laurentina where asphalt stretches to the horizon.

Even in the midst of high-rise buildings and four lane highways, I saw dozens of active farms. This is one of the strange aspects of Rome’s outskirts, where massive housing blocks sit awkwardly in a strikingly rural landscape.

At some point, I arrived in the EUR and quickly recognized the square colosseum (above) and other monuments. These provided a good sense of orientation and allowed me to maneuver toward Via Ostiense–an ancient road that stretches between Rome and the ancient port town of Ostia. Approaching the historic center of Rome, I saw all the familiar sites. Pictured below: the pyramid tomb on the Aurelian wall and Libera’s famous post office.

And now, Thanksgiving dinner in Rome awaits.

Daylight savings time cut out the opportunity for late afternoon runs, so I have buckled down and joined a gym.  This has allowed me to exercise a few Italian phrases such as “Are you finished here?” and “May I use those weights?” In reality, the opportunities for talking are limited and it is much easier to simply listen and observe.

I have found that the most amusing things to witness are the reactions of various individuals to the music videos played on the television program Radio DeeJay. English music dominates the Italian charts but a lack of comprehension doesn’t seem to prevent the locals from enjoying catchy tunes. (This became clear when I witnessed a tough-looking Italian man blasting “It’s Raining Men” from his car).

Despite the foreign influence, Italians tend to maintain an appreciation for songs in their own language. When an Italian music video plays on the monitor, a couple people in the gym inevitably break into song. On more than one occasion I have observed people on the treadmill singing along with Fabri Fibra’s In Italia, Jovanotti’s A te, or others. Jovanotti’s song, in particular, evoked so much emotion in the room that one woman started making out with her husband while sitting on a lifting bench.

Yesterday, Cornell in Rome hosted the annual Italiaidea Talent Show featuring students from all three Italian classes. We were given free license to develop an act with the stipulation, of course, that it be performed in Italian.  With technology at our fingertips, it became clear that this would not be an old-fashioned exposition of song and dance; rather, it would be a high-tech ensemble of film, music video, and digital recording.

I set out with three friends to produce a film noir-style mystery based at the Trevi Fountain. We filmed on site from 4:00am until 6:00am during a rare moment of calm at the popular tourist destination. (I highly recommend seeking out monuments at odd hours). Our plot revolved around the eternal question: who takes all the money from the fountain? In a dramatic scene, one discovers the existence of fountain nymphs (played by Irina and Katie) who kill a detective (me) and joyfully collect coins from the water. (click here to view the movie on YouTube).

In addition to our film noir, we produced a brief introduction film for the 2008 Talent Show set to awful 80′s music. There were a number of interesting acts including Celebrity Jeopardy, an Italian rendition of the Spiderman song, “In Fondo al Mar” from the Little Mermaid, and an Italian news program.

The two winning entries were designed as film trailers. The first borrowed fight scenes from various action movies (such as the Matrix and 300) and placed images of our professors’ heads onto the characters’ bodies. We watched in horror and amazement as our history, italian, architecture, and art professors battled for supremacy of their digital world.

The other film trailer introduces four individuals whose lives unravel in the city of Rome. Have a look for yourself at the preview for I Nostri Affari.

“No, there is not more beauty in Rome than elsewhere, and all these objects which have been continuously admired for generations, which workmen’s hands have mended and restored, signify nothing, are nothing and have no heart and no worth; –but there is much beauty here, because there is much beauty everywhere.”

Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters To A Young Poet

Our bus parked in Caserta and we stood at the foot of an 18^th century baroque monstrosity. A grand stair carried us into the belly of the beast–a world of gilded bronze, carved wood, rare stone and lush fabrics. Chandeliers glistened overhead and paintings played upon various themes. Indeed, the kings of Naples built this sanctuary of opulence to impress.

The only thing that the Palace of Caserta impressed upon me was a sense of boredom. Glancing from one embellishment to another, I reflected on the uselessness of the place. Even the most exquisite flourishes at the “Reggia” appear empty and expected, like a stage set without a plot to bring it to life. The handsomely dressed spaces lack their own story–they recall worn out mythology and misplaced wealth. Their state of preservation conveys more about the modern culture of tourism than it does about the royal family’s brief reign.

Similar monuments populate the city of Rome where they continually attract and astonish visitors. Unfortunately, these works of art and architecture wear the weight of their own fame. Reproductions systematically reduce each masterpiece to an icon and diminish our capacity of perception. Filled with expectations, we look at great works for the first time without a sense of discovery.

The Palace of Caserta and the attractions of Rome are beautiful, but they are missing something. It exists in the spaces between these sites. They are small and unimposing things–traces, coincidences, and peculiarities that lurk in every city, revealing more about the human condition than the weary monuments that we to shower with attention.

In Rome, bottles churn endlessly at a dam in the Tiber; aggregations of metal locks stand testament to a series of romantic vows; strands of steel from the street cleaning brushes litter the roads; cell phones distract gladiators when business is slow; pasta occupies an entire row at the supermarket; and re-used cobble stones wear the decontextualized paint of pedestrian crosswalks.

Such things are mere traces of a city, but they offer the freshness and excitement of discovery to anyone who cares to notice. They are what I love about this place. The baroque palace at Caserta, I could do without.

After a night in Naples, Irina and I took a 40 minute tram ride to the “scavi di pompei” at the base of Mount Vesuvius. The Roman city of Pompeii, fixed in time by volcanic eruptions in the 1^st century AD, exists in stark contrast to Naples. It is small, quiet, safe, and organized–cleanly swept and void of life.

The desolate feeling of Pompeii is appropriate (considering its fate) but I kept trying to imagine the city as if it were inhabited by the people of Naples. The streets would be strewn with trash, people and carts would clamour through the intersections, and pick-pockets would lurk in the alleys. With this mindset, the architectural remnants of Pompeii began to come to life. The streets, theater, market stalls and grain mills quickly became animated with faces and figures from the night before.

The most interesting remains at Pompeii reveal the lifestyle, activities and humor of ancient Roman citizens. Someone sketched the figure above onto a painted wall nearly 2000 years ago! Our society may have changed, but I suspect we are very similar to the people who came before.

Florence is a city of simple pleasures; she beckons to travellers and takes their money; she can be easily bought and easily consumed; her job is to satisfy. She is like a hooker, dressed with gaudy stones and lit by street lamps.

Naples is a city that requires time to understand; she seduces travellers but remains elusive; she is spirited and threatening; she is either loved or hated. She is like a mistress, who hides behind closed doors.

This weekend I travelled south and caught a glimpse of something entirely new. Naples is a city stripped of the pomp that pervades most Italian tourist destinations. It is unkempt and uninviting. It repels visitors with grime, trash, traffic and thieves. But in the midst of anarchy, there exists a city more passionate and genuine than I have ever seen.

We arrived to Naples on Saturday afternoon and walked along small alleyways with clothing stretched on lines overhead. We passed churches lodged into city blocks, denoted by little more than a wide door and a stone entablature. In one of these, we found a remarkable sculpture of Christ’s body covered by a thin layer of cloth (an effect that modern sculptors are unable to produce).

The remainder of the night was spent eating pizza at the famous Pizzeria da Michele, partying at a discoteca, eating freshly baked Pizzetta, and riding back to our hotel. The pizza was extraordinary, the music was loud, and the driving was life-threatening. An exciting night by all accounts.

On November 4th, students in Rome gathered at the Cornell Palazzo for a night of political and culinary pot-luck. Absentee ballots were cast and we watched as Americans filed into voting booths to determine the new hierarchy in Washington. Everyone brought some food to the event and the relative qualities of cheesecake and éclairs quickly replaced politics as a topic of conversation.

A handful of dedicated students–equipped with pajamas, pillows, and mountains of food–stayed until dawn to see the conclusion of a drawn out political battle. On Wednesday, word spread around the world and Obama’s beaming face began to dominate newsstands and posters throughout Rome. Among these are posters sponsored by the Italian Democratic Party (PD) declaring “world change.” Walter Veltroni, the party leader, hopes that an alignment with Obama will earn him government control in Italy.

The 2008 election will go down in history for many reasons. I will remember the Burger King Obama hats, the international news television, and the sundry collection of fattening foods.

The early applications are in and a few lucky highschool seniors can consider the college process complete. The vast majority, however, will spend the next two months debating where to apply, writing a stack of 500-word essays, and hoping for the best. Having successfully completed this process, I will share a bit of advice for all the prospective Cornellians out there.

1. Don’t panic. Consider yourself lucky to have so many good options. The United States can boast roughly 15 of the world’s top 20 universities and hundreds of impressive institutions of higher education. You will have incredible opportunities and resources at any of these schools.
2. Don’t procrastinate. It is not enjoyable to write college essays during Christmas or New Years Eve. Work on the applications before they are due on January 2^nd and leave the holidays for leisurely editing and good food.
3. Get real. The idea that there is a perfect formula for college applications is a myth.  The admissions officers are looking for interesting and talented people to join the Cornell community. Be honest and highlight your strengths. Don’t stress out about the SATs or a bad grade in freshman chemistry class.
4. Go for it. If you want to come to Cornell, make it happen. If you have concerns about tuition, seek out financial aid or one of the many scholarships offered to students. A Cornell education is worth the investment.

If you have questions about Cornell admissions or the school of Architecture, feel free to email me.  Enjoy the college process — it will be over in no time.

I was pooped on today.

Don’t get me wrong; this is not a figurative statement. The sky above Rome swarmed with birds and poop literally fell like rain. Savvy pedestrians opened umbrellas or newspapers to shield themselves from the storm. I was unprepared–without even the slightest morsel of coverage.

The birds arranged themselves into a primitive firing squad on the sycamore trees lining the street.  Globs of fecal matter plunked down onto the sidewalk, making the air stale with decay. A well aimed bundle landed on my shirt and another streaked across my hand.

Life is full of surprises, some of which I could do without.