Il bollettino di agosto

Il bollettino di agosto è in rete, cliccare qui.

August bulletin online now, click here.

 

Presentazione del libro "L'anno delle mille vite" di Heddi Goodrich

 

Vi ricordiamo che sabato 29 agosto, dalle 10 am alle 12 pm, presso le stanze della Società Dante Alighieri di Auckland, si terrà la presentazione del libro L’anno delle mille vite di Heddi Goodrich.

We would like to remind you that on Saturday, 29 August, from 10:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m., the Società Dante Alighieri Auckland will host a presentation of the book The Year of a Thousand Lives by Heddi Goodrich at its premises.

Heddi, già autrice dei romanzi Perduti nei Quartieri Spagnoli (2019) (anch'esso presentato nelle nostre stanze a Freemans Bay) e L’americana (2021), parlerà del libro sia in inglese che in italiano rispondendo alle vostre domande!

Heddi, author of the novels Lost in the Spanish Quarter (2019) (which was also presented at our Freemans Bay venue) and The American Girl (2021), will discuss her latest book in both English and Italian and will be happy to answer your questions!

Per maggiori informazioni sul libro, questo è il link a un nostro precedente post.

For more information about the book, please see the link to one of our previous posts.

Inoltre, qui di seguito potete trovare un estratto (in italiano e in inglese) del romanzo (che è disponibile su Amazon Australia al seguente link:  L'anno delle mille vite : Goodrich, Heddi: Amazon.com.au: Books)

In addition, below you will find one excerpt from the novel (in both Italian and English). The book is also available on Amazon Australia at the following link: L'anno delle mille vite by Heddi Goodrich.

Ci vediamo presto e buona lettura!!!

See you soon, and enjoy the reading!!!

I

È da tempo che desidero farti il racconto di quest’ultimo anno, di dire finalmente le cose non dette. Ma ora che abbiamo l’occasione di parlarci a quattr’occhi, ora che ti ho tutto per me, almeno per una settimana, non so se ne ho il coraggio. A certi pensieri non si dovrebbe dare voce, l’aria li potrebbe guastare. Eppure come faccio a non descriverti gli eventi e gli enigmi dell’anno che ha cambiato irreversibilmente la mia vita e, oso dire, anche la tua? 

Non ami essere protagonista, lo so, e nemmeno parlare di te. Perciò inizio questa storia dal cuore della mia casa, dal giardinetto interno disseminato di coriandolo per i pasti e rosmarino per i morti, prima che tu varcassi la soglia del portone.  

È lì che mi piaceva rintanarmi nella lacuna di tempo tra lo sparecchiamento dello spuntino e la preparazione della cena, quando le attività domestiche magicamente si sospendevano. Non passeggiavo tra gli arbusti di alloro – lo spazio è quello che è – né contemplavo, attraverso le porte della sala da pranzo dimenticate aperte, l’affresco del florido giardino che si estendeva a perdita d’occhio. Guardavo piuttosto, seduta su uno sgabello pieghevole all’ombra, i lacci di cuoio dei sandali che stringevano con morbida familiarità ciò che mi dicono essere uno dei miei attributi più belli, le caviglie tornite come le gambe di un tavolino. Zampe di leone, di cavallo, di cane da caccia. 

Mi piaceva soprattutto quando, a fine estate o inizio autunno, avvertivo un temporale in arrivo. Mi giungeva per primo l’aroma salmastro del mare mescolato alla dolcezza del terreno, un abbinamento stuzzicante. Solo a quel punto il rettangolo di cielo azzurro sopra la mia testa iniziava a sobbollire di nuvole scure. 

Hai mai notato che il buio che cala immediatamente prima di una tempesta è carico di luce? È un’oscurità luminosa che non appartiene né alla notte né al giorno, plumbea e insieme dorata, un metallo fuso che si incanala liberamente in quel piccolo giardino chiuso come se fosse un imbuto a sua disposizione. Allora vedevo le ombre degli oggetti intorno a me svanire all’istante e la pelle delle mie caviglie levigarsi come bronzo appena oleato. La luce tempestosa penetrava incontrastata in tutte le camere che si affacciavano sul giardinetto, fin dentro gli angoli più ciechi. I ragni tremavano nelle loro tele, l’aria vibrava e le mie budella si contorcevano per l’eccesso meraviglioso di tensione. 

Presto i tuoni si sarebbero infranti sulla casa come onde giganti, e il cielo si sarebbe squarciato sprigionando le emozioni più inaccettabili – l’ira, secondo la maggioranza, di un dio barbuto dalla medesima espressione accigliata che aveva mio padre quando da bambina lo spiavo piegato sul bilancio familiare, mentre secondo me si tratta di un sentimento molto più enigmatico di uno spirito senza volto. Ma anche se fosse l’ira di Giove tonante, o Zeus, o comunque preferisci chiamarlo, perché placarla? 

Che piova, pensavo in quei momenti, che piova a secchiate! Che l’acqua divina si scaraventi senza pietà sulle tegole del tetto battendo come mille mani estasiate, che entri a cascate nell’atrio, ingrigendo il marmo del pozzo e schizzando le pareti ocra attorno con gocce grasse e tiepide. Che straripi dalla vasca centrale fino ad allagare il mosaico labirintico, sommergendo i piedi delicati della panchina e quelli tozzi della cassaforte e scorrendo come un torrente giù per il corridoio, per poi, con uno spintone al portone in legno forte abbastanza da scardinarlo, uscire sulla strada. 

Uscire!

I

 

For a while now I’ve longed to tell you the story of this past year, to finally say what’s been left unsaid. But now that we have the chance to speak face to face, now that I have you all to myself, I’m not sure I’m brave enough. Some thoughts shouldn’t be voiced, the air might spoil them. And yet how can I not describe the events and enigmas of the year that forever changed my life and, dare I say, yours too? 

You don’t like to be the center of attention, I know, or even to talk about yourself. So I’ll begin this story from the heart of my house, from the inner garden sown with cilantro for the hungry and rosemary for the dead, before you walked in through the front door.

That’s where I used to hide away during the sliver of time between clearing the table after lunch and resetting it for dinner, when the household and all its chores would magically come to a standstill. I wasn’t in the habit of strolling among the laurel shrubs – not that there’s any room for that sort of thing – nor of gazing through the dining room doors left ajar at that other garden, the frescoed one in full bloom stretching back as far as the eye can see. No, I would just sit there on a folding stool in the shade, pondering the way the softened leather of my sandal straps seemed to mold to my ankles. Some might call them one of my finest attributes, these limbs tapered like table legs, like those of a lion or a horse or a hound dog.

           I especially liked to sit there in late summer or early autumn when I could sense a storm on its way. The first clue was the briny aroma of the sea mixed with a sweet hint of soil, an appetizing combination. Only then would the rectangle of blue sky above my head begin to simmer with clouds.  

Have you ever noticed how the dark that falls right before a downpour is full of light? It’s a radiant darkness that’s neither night nor day, leaden and golden at once, a melted metal pouring liberally into my enclosed garden as if it were a funnel at its disposal. Suddenly all the objects in the house would lose their shadows and my ankles would go as smooth as freshly oiled bronze. The eerie light entered unchallenged into the rooms that opened up onto the garden, seeping into every blind corner. The spiders would tremble in their webs and the air would tingle, while my insides churned with excitement, so great was the build-up of tension. 

Soon thunder would come crashing over the house in rogue waves, and the sky would split open unleashing the most unacceptable feelings. “Rage,” most people say, the wrath of a bearded deity furrowing his brow like my father used to when hunched over the family finances, whereas I’m more of the belief a thunderstorm is a far more nuanced emotion expressed by a faceless spirit. But even if it were the work of a moody god, Jupiter Tonans or Zeus or however you want to call him, why pray for it to blow over? 

Let it rain, I’d think in those moments, let it pour forth from the heavens! May divine precipitation lash the shingles of this roof with the ecstatic drumming of a thousand hands; may it gush like a waterfall into the adjacent atrium greying the marble well and splotching the ochre walls with fat, lukewarm drops. May it overflow from the shallow pool and flood the labyrinth mosaic on the floor, submerging the dainty legs of the seating bench and the chunky ones of the safe box. May it then course like a creek down the entranceway towards the front door and, with an almighty push against the wooden panels, hard enough to unhinge the whole thing, may it flow out into the street.

Oh, to go out!

Il bollettino di luglio è in rete

 Please click here to read our latest Bollettino

 

Are you a descendant, or related to Italian Internees on Somes/Matiu Island in WWII? Please help us with this research.

Memorial to Italian Internees on Somes/Matiu Island in WWII photo by Judith Murphy

Kia ora,

My name is Flavia Flamini and I am an Italian researcher based in Wellington. I have been awarded a History Grant by Manatū Taonga – Ministry for Culture and Heritage to write a book documenting the human and social experiences of Italian civilian internees and their families in New Zealand during and immediately after World War II.

To date, I have been able to identify 40 Italian men interned between 1940 and 1942 under the Aliens Control Emergency Regulations 1939. I am currently conducting my archival research at Archives New Zealand, where a great deal of material has recently become accessible, given that 100 years have passed since most of the internees' dates of birth.

To corroborate my research, I am looking to connect with descendants, relatives, or anyone who might have information, letters, or memories related to ANY of the Italian internees. While I welcome stories from all over New Zealand, I am currently seeking specific leads regarding a few men connected to the Auckland region.

- I am keen to connect with the descendants or relatives of Paul Casa to learn more about his experience, especially given his prominent role as the camp foreman. 

- I am also searching for information regarding Celso De Podesta (likely originally spelled "De Podestà") and Amerigo Tavan; both were living in Auckland and working as terrazzo layers when they were arrested on the exact same day, 29 August 1940.

- Furthermore, I have recently uncovered the internment and release papers for an Italian man named Reno Saverio Massetti, who was interned on 30 September 1942. His name is missing from the official memorial on Matiu/Somes Island.

- Alongside the stories of the internees, I am also interested in exploring the unique history of Italian-Māori families during the war years. Were these families subject to "Enemy Alien" restrictions, or were they exempt? What were the feelings towards Italy while the 28th Māori Battalion was fighting bravely on the Italian front? 

If your family has any oral histories, photographs, diaries or letters from this era, I would be deeply privileged to learn about them. Every small detail might be incredibly helpful.

Please feel free to reach out to me at flaviaflamini1@gmail.com.

Grazie mille to the Società Dante Alighieri Auckland and to all of you for helping to preserve this precious shared heritage!

Flavia

The internment camp on Matiu/Somes Island before it was demolished in 1947

 

Quizzone di Ferragosto!

 Quizzone di Ferragosto!

From art, history and cities to language, music and food—how well do you know Italy? Join the Dante Quiz and find out!

Join us on Saturday 15 August, from 4:00 to 6:00 pm, at the Società Dante Alighieri Auckland for an afternoon of fun, friendly (but fierce!) competition and Italian culture.

Come with your own team or join one on the day. Entry is $20 per person, including snacks.

To register, email info@dante.org.nz.

Learn Italian this winter!

Beat the winter blues, learn Italian with us!

(It's better than vitamin C!)

Term 3 schedule online now: https://www.dante.org.nz/_files/ugd/c2b48f_cbc1aa624b134d708a32529864636e88.pdf

Choose from 34 classes, from beginners to advanced (including 7 online classes), or come to our open day on 15 July.

For queries email info@dante.org.nz

 

Cantastorie di giugno

Il prossimo appuntamento con il Cantastorie è il 14 giugno.

Questa sessione sarà guidata e organizzata da genitori, ed il pagamento da effettuar online (a/c 02-0192-0309263-00) questo mese è di $10 più $5 per fratellino/sorellina.

 

Il bollettino di maggio è in rete!

Il bollettino di maggio è in rete, cliccare qui.

May Bulletin online now, click here.

 

May Cine Dante: Il papà di Giovanna/Giovanna’s Father 2008 (Pupi Avati)

Cine Dante and The New Zealand Institute of Psychoanalytic Psychotherapy present:

Il papà di Giovanna/Giovanna’s Father 2008 (Pupi Avati)

Friday 22 May, 6.30 pm

University of Auckland 10 Symonds Street (Arts and Education Building) 201, Room 265 

Free Admission

Discussion and refreshments to follow

Set In Bologna in the late 1930s the film features Silvio Orlando in the role of Michele, a devoted and overprotective father, who does not recognize his daughter’s (Alba

Rohrwacher) mental health problems. His sole scope in life becomes his constant

attention to her once she is committed to a psychiatric hospital for a crime she commits. Against the backdrop of Fascist Italy, the film is a character and societal study of the

complexity of excessive paternal love, mental illness and psychiatric institutions.

Silvio Orlando won the Best Actor prize at the Venice Film Festival for his performance. Alba Rohrwacher won a David di Donatello Award for her role as Giovanna.

The Other Side of the Sunset — Book Launch

Save the date for this special book launch on Friday 8 May, 5:30pm, at the Dante Auckland!

Freemans Bay Community Centre
Freemans Bay,
Auckland

The Other Side of the Sunset:  The cultural benefits of New Zealand and Italian connections through Italian immigration to Aotearoa from the 1950s to the mid-2020s

By Antonella Sarti Evans.  $50.00   — Book launch special: $40

Published by The Earl of Seacliff, Paekakariki, New Zealand

Media Release

 

The Other Side of the Sunset, by Antonella Sarti Evans traces the multi-faceted influence of Italians and their culture in New Zealand over the last six decades.

 

Through vivid stories and historical insight, this book reveals how Italian culture has woven itself deeply into the fabric of Aotearoa, creating rich and unexpected connections between languages, traditions, professions and ways of life. 

 

From post-war migrants to the highly skilled newcomers of today, Antonella spent many hours over a two year period undertaking new research interviewing a wide range of New Zealanders who all have cultural ties to Italy.  

 

“I spoke with people who often started by saying they didn’t think they had a story to tell, only to still be talking two or three hours later” says Antonella as she reflects on the many migrants, their descendants and whānau she spoke with across kitchen tables, workrooms, garages and gardens all over New Zealand.

 

“As an Italian-Kiwi myself, I’ve always been able to notice Italian cultural influences in New Zealand day to day life, but this was an opportunity to delve a lot deeper and to document that impact; from food, design, cinema, and the arts - to architecture, restauration, sustainability, marine biology, geology and cutting-edge innovation.”

 

As an academic and writer, Antonella conducted comprehensive historical research alongside her many hours of one-on-one interviews. Her research, (partially funded by a Manatū Taonga, NZ Ministry for Culture and Heritage grant), took her deep into New Zealand archives, statisics and news stories of the past. 

 

Antonella says that one of the special areas of focus of her book, is the cultural and historical connections between Italians and tangata whenua in Aotearoa, that have enriched the nation's understanding of cross-cultural relationships.

 

“Italians often feel at instantly at home with Māori people in Aotearoa and vice versa.  I believe that exposure to the languages and cultures of different countries is an important part of a nation’s growth from many perspectives. Cross-cultural understanding is essential to achieve broader insight, more successful communication, and a deeper knowledge of history.  Connections are the soul of NZ identity.”

 

Antonella’s Italian-Māori interviews featured in the book include Rob Mokaraka, (co-author of film Maunga Cassino and play Strange Resting Places with Paolo Rotondo); Tu Sciascia (the youngest son of kaumātua Prof Piri Sciascia), Sir Horomona Horo (a national taonga in playing taonga pūoro), Patricia Grace (acclaimed author of TU, the historical novel based on the 28th Māori Battalion’s campaign in Italy), Kawiti Waetford (first opera singer in te reo), as well as some of the Italian–Māori families of former tunnellers from Turangi.

 

At its heart says Antonella, the book is a vibrant tapestry of resilience, creativity, and cultural exchange an ongoing story that continues to shape New Zealand society. 

 

“I think this will resonate with both the Italian and Kiwi community as the book is all about celebrating the extraordinary contributions Italians have made to Kiwi culture and the pride that many Kwis take in their Italian connections too.” 

ABOUT ANTONELLA SARTI-EVANS

Antonella Sarti Evans is an Italian-born translator, writer, and Italian-language teacher based in Wellington, New Zealand. 

 

She holds a PhD in “Literatures of English speaking countries” with a specialization in New Zealand contemporary literature from Università di Roma, La Sapienza. 

 

She has taught at Victoria University of Wellington Te Herenga Waka and at Circolo Italiano di Wellington for a number of years. Currently, she is a lecturer in Italian at the House of Philosophy.

Antonella’s main contribution lies in researching and translating New Zealand literature into Italian. 

 

She translated works by prominent New Zealand authors — e.g. Janet Frame, Patricia Grace, Robin Hyde, Vivienne Plumb, Hone Tuwhare, Apirana Taylor, Anahera Gildea, Kiri Piahana-Wong, Maringikura Mary Campbell — making them accessible to Italian readership, including novels Pōtiki and Tu by Patricia Grace and Janet Frame’s The Lagoon and Other Stories. She edited a selection of contemporary Māori women’s poetry translated into Italian in parallel text — Matariki, sciame di stelle (2020) — and the anthology Let it Rain E Ua Te Ua: Tukuna ki teMārama — Poetry from Aotearoa in Multilingual Translation (te reo Māori, Cook Island Māori, English, Italian, French and Japanese) along with Maringikura Mary Campbell (2023).