Sketchbook of Life
People are always part of a picture. But it is the talent of the photographer – or the loving eye of a born caricaturist – that transforms image into art.
The early golden shine peeks through tree-top curtains. It paints dancing patterns of serrated light onto the carpet and the cushions of the sofa. The birds are giving the premiere of an operetta in their matinee, and the day still has all its doors opened wide.
You take the moment and brew it into into a cup of rose tea. Then you sit down and pick up that book. It has been sitting there waiting since your last book shop tour.
You open the cover. And there you are in the middle of a dispute. The quarrel is between a journalist and a famous artist. And the illustrious guest has just bluntly cut off the initial pleasantries by complaining. He hates being interviewed. All those suggestive questions. Besides, he is rather shy, so he would not know what to say. On the other hand, he will probably say too much and end up not wanting to read what he said about himself. The drama is on its way.
But the interviewer doesn’t need your pity. He eloquently guides the brittle diva onto more comfortable terrain. Where they sit together, chatting, observing and commenting on all those portrayed in the work of the maestro, parading along. Interesting, intriguing, tantalizing. Still loud, even grotesque at times, and completely preoccupied with their own personal perspective on life. But also often sad and somehow lost.
He says: “… but life is sweet after all.”
This seems to be a solid statement, yet you dare to contradict: “Well, I would not call it sweet. Sweet is not a precise description, it’s an idea. A sticky, syrup-like syndrome at best. Anyway, life cannot be one taste only, with all the different ingredients blended into a full range of all the flavors of existence. Maybe also a little sweet, but most definitely Umami. Life tastes like a really good soup.”
But I am merely the reader, the audience. What do I know?
And after all: Who would argue with Fellini?
He says: “… but life is sweet after all.”
Side Notes:
- I got my Sunday inspiration from the book about the interview between Giovanni Grazzini and Federico Fellini in 1983 ‘Intervista sul cinema a Federico Fellini a cura di Giovanni Grazzini’ (published by Gius. Laterza & Figli S.p.A., Roma and translated by Renate Heimbucher), published in 1984 and 1993 by Diogenes Verlag, Zurich under the titles ‘Warum machen Sie nicht mal eine schöne Liebesgeschichte?’ and ‘Fellini über Fellini. Ein intimes Gespräch mit Giovanni Grazzini’). In spite of the myth that Fellini was reluctant to give interviews, there are quite a few documented. Looking at some of them, one gets the impression that both the old grandmaster of Italian cinema and the journalists must have liked the procedure, because the little drama described above somehow turned into a comedic series. Which is very similar to the very unique style of his films that created the term ‘Felliniesque‘. Fellini received many awards for his work, such as the Palme d’Or and prizes of the Venice and Moscow International Film Festivals. Five of the awards were Oscars for ‘La Strada’ in 1956 (which made his wife Giulietta Masina a star – she has rightfully been called ‘the female Charlie Chaplin’), ‘Nights of Cabiria’ the following year in 1957, the legendary ‘8 ½’ in 1963 and ‘Amarcord’ in 1974. He also received an Academy Award nomination for his widely acclaimed and slightly controversial film ‘La Dolce Vita’ (1960). In 1993, shortly before his death, he received another Oscar as an honorary lifetime achievement award.
- If you open the official tourist website of Rimini (riminiturismo.it) and follow the ‘Guide’ to ‘Discover the Area’ and find out about ‘People, History and Traditions’, he will be there to greet you, looking through the lens of a camera, of course. In fact, he tops the list of Rimini’s most famous people. This is probably the reason why he has his own museum high up in the Castel Sismondo: the ‘Fellini Museum Rimini’.
- Among the things Fellini liked, as he said himself in at least two interviews, were roses, Rossini and risotto. Which is one of the reasons why you’ll find a recipe for a (kind of) risotto in today’s accompanying post [‘Speletto’]. Although he described himself as a bad cook, he must have liked the traditions around good food, because he used the outline of his grandmother’s kitchen for the (Oscar-winning) movie ‘8 ½’.