#circa 1832

[eienloveslesmis]

IN HONOUR OF BARRICADE DAY, A DISCOVERY

oh my god ok so ITS BARRICADE DAY (THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE REBELLION ON WHICH A LOT OF LES MIS IS BASED, LIKE VICKY HUGEHOE MADE UP A BUNCH OF CHARACTERS AND STUCK THEM IN THE STUDENT UPRISING OF 1832 WHICH HAPPENED ON THE FIFTH AND SIXTH OF JUNE) SO IM CONSUMING NOTHING BUT LES MIS CONTENT TODAY WHICH HAS BEEN THE TRADITION FOR LIKE TEN YEARS FOR ME AND LIKE 191 YEARS FOR EVERYONE ELSE AND SO I WAS READING THIS NEWSPAPER FROM 1832 TALKING ABOUT THE REBELLION i was reading a newspaper about the rebellion and the paper was from 1832 and jesus, mary, joseph, and the cow you are not going to believe what i found, I THINK I MIGHT HAVE DISCOVERED THE INSPIRATION FOR GRANTAIRE????? OK SO. i m m e d i a t e l y after the article about the rebellion was this little mini-story abt this motherfucker:

LIKE PARDON????? OK BC AND LIKE ITS UNLIKELY BUT NOT IMPOSSIBLE THAT THAT FUCKING GUY THAT MOTHERFUCKER MIGHT HAVE BEEN THE INSPIRATION FOR GRANTAIRE?? BC LIKE. BEING IN A DRUNKEN STUPOR, ASSUMED TO BE DEAD, ONLY AT THE VERY LAST POSSIBLE MOMENT WAKING UP A N D DECLARING THAT HE'D NEVER GET DRUNK AGAIN BC 1 HE WAS GNA DIE WITH ENJOLRAS AND 2 HIS DRUNKENNESS WAS A METAPHOR FOR WHY HE WASNT LIKE NOBLE AND SHIT AND HIS CYNICISM BUT ENJYBABY TURNED HIM INTO A BELIEVER??? normalize believing very very very unlikely things bc it's funny shhh

[oncanvas]

Tago Bay near Ejiri on the Tokaido from the Thirty-six views of Mount Fuji series, Katsushika Hokusai, circa 1832

Woodblock print 9 ¾ x 14 ½ in. (24.8 x 36.8 cm)

[heaveninawildflower]

Hydrangea and Kingfisher (circa 1832) by Utagawa Hiroshige (Japanese, 1797–1858).

Woodblock print. Published by Wakasaya Yoichi.

Carnegie Museum of Art.

[gwydpolls]

Time Travel Question 58: Performances IV

These Questions are the result of suggestions from the previous iteration.

This category may include suggestions made too late to fall into the correct grouping.

Please add new suggestions below if you have them for future consideration.

*The Broadway Premiere names were lost over a year ago because I didn't realize how big this was until I'd spent several hours on first day telemetry for the very first Time travel poll.

Please Feel Free to share ones you want to see for future polls.

[gangster-z]

Flood Destroying the World, circa 1866. Illustration by Gustave Doré (1832-1883).

[itsa-me-cavaradossi]

Having joined Tumblr less than a month ago, it's only just occurred to me that there's no reason *not* to post some of my older fic here. So I thought I might as well do a giant post on all of the other Tosca fic I've been churning out over the better part of the past year, in case folks are interested! I'm Ladybug_21 on AO3, by the way, for those of you on Operablr who don't already know me from that context.

Because we love a good, dramatic Castel Sant'Angelo pic!

Fix-It AU Series

Have you ever grumbled to yourself that the body count in Act 3 of Tosca was two bodies too high? Then you might enjoy this Tosca fix-it AU series, premised on the idea that Floria and Mario survived the ending of the opera! Everything is rated T or lower, and the only content warnings are for a canonical suicide attempt (something something "o Scarpia, avanti a Diiiiiiooooooooo"), depictions of depression, and a lotta Scarpia-related PTSD.

This series really exists thanks to @oldshrewsburyian, whose Yuletide 2023 request included prompts for both "pre-canon fluff" and an "improbable fix-it" for Tosca. As always, I can't thank you enough for giving me reason to do a deep dive into a fandom that has come to mean so much to me! ❤️

recondita armonia (5,910 words): Pre-canon meetcute backstory for Floria and Mario, based heavily on certain aspects of Victorien Sardou's play. May contain author-typical levels of nerdery about Renaissance art and the politics of the Repubblica Romana.

sempre il sogno mio d'amore (7,280 words): The improbable fix-it in question, in which Floria and Mario conveniently do not die at the end of the opera, and instead they escape to Paris and figure out how to move on with life from there.

sale, ascende l'uman cantico (5,710 words): Set in Paris circa 1820, this story is told from the perspective of Floria and Mario's teenage kids, who are unaware of everything that happened in Rome, and thus have no clue why their parents are reacting so strangely to various things that trigger memories of their mysterious past.

l'alba vindice appar (6,100 words): It's 1832, and Floria and Mario's son—being a typical Cavaradossi—has gotten himself caught up in a long-running hit Broadway musical an infamous Parisian student rebellion, leading our faves to reflect on their past experiences with failed political heroism.

pe' quante foje ne smoveno li venti (8,250 words): Floria and Mario finally return to Rome to confront some old ghosts and reunite with some old friends, over three decades after fleeing in June 1800.

Gli Amori degli Dei, Galleria Farnese, Palazzo Farnese

Musings About the Baddie

I actually find villains really interesting to explore, so I've written a bit about Scarpia and what makes him tick, for anyone who dares open that rancid can of worms. As a fair warning, most of my thoughts about Scarpia come with a giant side of Shakespeare references, which is the inevitable (?) result of Scarpia's casually referencing Iago within, like, 5 minutes of appearing onstage.

Soliloquy (700 words): The shortest thing I've ever written for this fandom, which is to say, a mini character study mostly based on the idea that Scarpia is kind of a self-aware Shakespearean villain.

bring this monstrous birth to the world's light (9,000 words): A backstory about Scarpia's childhood and young adulthood that aims to explain how he ended up exactly as twisted and horrible as he is, even while not excusing him a jot for his behavior. This fic is rated M and includes all sorts of warning tags I rarely need to use in my writing—graphic depictions of violence, murder, mutilation, abusive parents, underage involving a teenager (very consensual, but still squicky), references to offscreen rape/non-con (I mean, Scarpia)—so, proceed with caution.

Cappella Barberini, Sant'Andrea della Valle ... not pictured here is a little placard on the grille that describes it secondarily as the Cappella della "Tosca"!

Some Love for Various Minor Characters

If you know me at all as a fic writer, you'll know that I'm one of those authors who always gets super distracted by That Person Who Turned Up For Three Seconds, and Tosca is clearly no exception as a fandom. Accordingly, a bunch of fic about random side characters, all rated T or below:

Chiaroscuro (4,210 words): Featuring Sir Not-Appearing-In-This-Opera—and thus naturally one of my absolute faves—Giulia Angelotti, aka, the Marchesa Attavanti. This is a missing episode from just before opera canon begins, exploring why Giulia might have risked everything to spring her brother from prison. (CW for Scarpia making Scarpia-typical threats.)

ben celato (23,300 words): ... uh, so, have you ever wanted to read a history textbook about the Repubblica Romana (1798-1799) that's cleverly disguised as a character backstory, with plenty of gay pining added in for good measure? Well, then, look no further! Cesare Angelotti is my other low-key fave from this opera, and I clearly have waaaaaaaaay too many thoughts on him and his political aspirations and his relationship with Mario, down to why they're still addressing each other using "voi" at the start of the opera even if this fic imagines that they were VERY close at one point. (CWs for brief parental violence against a child, as well as for canonical character death.)

e lascia stare il santi (1,900 words): This story started out as a joke between @rayatii and myself, but then somehow became an actual exploration of the general mood in Rome immediately following the events of the opera. If you can guess from the title who the POV character is, then congratulations, this means you too probably know this libretto way better than is strictly necessary.

Simulation (1,350 words): This somehow is even more Sir Not-Appearing-In-This-Opera than the aforementioned Marchesa Attavanti fic, because it's a character study about the final hours of—you guessed it (you totally didn't)—Palmieri. As in, the guy whom Scarpia and Spoletta reference for three seconds towards the end of Act 2. This fic *probably* makes the most sense in the context of my very long Angelotti fic, given that Palmieri pops up once or twice in that, and thereby gains some characterization that informs this narrative. (CWs for indirect descriptions of torture, and also an execution.)

Miscellaneous Scribblings

And the random grab-bag of things that didn't fit cleanly into any of the above categories!

vivacissimo con violenza (5,000** words): The Tosca high school AU no one asked for, although I am (not so secretly) very proud of it. This modernized little riff on these characters is told entirely through text messages, social media, emails, and other ephemera, as exemplified by the above-pictured excerpt. I and my co-author BloodyMary5667 had WAY too much fun spitballing ideas back and forth for this, and considerably less fun yelling at the very long HTML/CSS code to just *work* already. Innumerable thanks to @april-rainer for patiently teaching me how to debug everything, because who ever said that fandom wouldn't sometimes leave you with some useful real-life skills. (**The word count reads as 5,000 words, but a lot of those words are part of the code that is hidden if you read on AO3 with "Show Creator's Style" on, so the visible text is actually far shorter.)

spasimi d'ira, spasimi d'amore (4,840 words): This is for those of you who were looking for straight-up E-rated smut fic within this fandom (OK, with a little historical political angst thrown in, I can't resist). The first chapter recounts the night that forms Mario's recollections in "E lucevan le stelle" and is all about very consensual, communicative, romantic sex between two people in a loving, committed relationship who are absolutely wild about one another and just want to make each other happy. And the second chapter is the flip side of this, which is to say, Scarpia thinking super creepy thoughts about Tosca elsewhere on the same evening—so, if that is not something you want to entertain, *definitely* stop reading after the first chapter.

toute l'immensité du ciel dans une goutte d'eau (3,790 words): Opera crossover fic alert! This story probably hits hardest if you already know and love Francis Poulenc's Dialogues des Carmélites, as it imagines Blanche de la Force having her wedding portrait painted by teenage!Mario Cavaradossi in Paris, in the pre-Revolution months leading up to the start of Dialogues. It was a fun way to explore how Mario's perspectives on religion and faith and martyrdom might have developed, based on the backstory Sardou gave him in play canon. (CW for canonical character deaths, plus major spoilers for the end of Dialogues.)

And that's all for the moment, but I keep thinking I'm done with writing for this fandom, and then I end up writing more for it. Needless to say, if anyone has any requests or plot bunnies, or even if just wants to scream about this opera generally, please don't hesitate to reach out, I'd LOVE to chat!

[resplendentoutfit]

Fashions of the Early 1830s: Large Hats and Leg-o-Mutton Sleeves

I was obsessed with Victorian era fashion for way too long! Let's jump back a few years and take a look at what royals and high-society women were wearing from 1830 to about 1836.

Vincente López Portaña (Spanish, 1772–1850) • Maria Cristina de Bourbon, Queen of Spain (fourth wife of Fernando VII) • 1830 • Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid

The style of the blue gown above is in keeping with Romantic era fashion, with its elbow-length puff sleeves with lace trim and pleated bodice. For formal attire, long gloves were worn.

The Maria Cristina de Bourbon portrait is of a royal subject, therefore the jewel-studded headpiece is especially grand, as is the bodice ornament and earrings. The feather was characteristic of the times – very large hats with feathers were in vogue, as well as large bonnets. The Spanish queen is wearing a lace mantila with her headpiece, which I assume is a symbol of her Spanish heritage.

The fabric of the queen's dress is extraordinarily elaborate, with all-over silver thread embroidery. The bodice on this and many early to mid 1830s dresses was called a bodice à la Sevigne, which was made up of a central boned band divided into horizontal folds of fabric.

Belts and wide ribbons around the waist were often featured on dresses of the early to mid 1830s.

The fashion from circa 1830 to 1835 was one of over-porportioned extravagance. Sleeves larger than were ever seen or since been, width at the shoulders, and dramatic hats and headpieces.

Hair too was over-the-top. Notice the perponderance of elaborate braids, coils, and curls in these images.

1830-34 • British • Printed Cotton Day Dress • Victoria and Albert Museum

One such dramatic feature of 1830s fashion was the pelerine, a lace covering that was worn over the shoulders. The cut of the neckline was already exagerated to emphasize width at the shoulders; adding a pelerine only added to that width as well further acting as more ornamentation to the outfit.

François-Joseph Navez (Belgian, 1787-1869) • Théodore Joseph Jonet and his two daughters • 1832 • Private collection

Sleeve style quickly evolved from simply puffy to Gigot or leg-o-mutton sleeves – a huge, billowy sheer sleeve over a smaller one, continuing with a tight-fitting long sleeve.

This flamboyance in sleeves was to suddenly come to an end around 1836. More about that in a future post, as I continue to flit willy-nilly along the fashion history timeline!

References:

• Fashion History Timeline: 1830-1839

• Wikipedia: 1830s in Western Fashion

• Wikipedia: Pelerene

• Mimi Mathews: The 1830s in Fashionable Gowns: A Visual Guide to the Decade

[the-cricket-chirps]

Katsushika Hokusai, "The Waterfall Where Yoshitsune Washed His Horse at Yoshino in Yamato Province," from the series A Tour of Waterfalls in Various Provinces, ca. 1832

Marguerite Thompson Zorach, Bathers, circa 1913-1914

[ltwilliammowett]

The “Royal George” Sperm Whale tooth, circa 1860

Depicts the survey of HMS Royal George, 1832, which sank in the Spithead off Portsmouth in 1782.

[raiko-huyiro]

Katsushika Hokusai ‘Yoshitsune’s Horse-Washing Falls at Yoshino in Yamato Province (Washu Yoshino Yoshitsune uma arai no taki),’ from the series ‘A Tour of Waterfalls in Various Provinces (Shokoku taki meguri),’ circa 1832; Courtesy Heritage Auctions

#katsushika Hokusai #japanese artist painter #artist painter #original art

#art #xpuigc #raiko huyiro

[detournementsmineurs]

"Cafetière" de Balzac en porcelaine de Limoges (circa 1832) présentée dans la “Maison de Balzac” dans le quartier de Passy, Paris, octobre 2024.

[kierancampire]

I've had this thing for ages but haven't worn it as it does feel a touch embarrassing to wear, but on my way back from the gym it started raining, and all I had on me was this

Now two things went through my head. 1, I can either commit social suicide, have strangers who I momentarily will pass then never see again, who mean nothing to me and do not matter in the slightest, judge and mock me for wearing this, yet I stay dry and prioritise myself over what others think of me. Or 2, I can get soaking wet. Obviously the former is far worse, but I gaslit myself into thinking the latter was worse, and wore it

Honestly I kept smiling and laughing at myself. But ya'know what? It's a look. It's giving. It's giving peasant circa 1832. Cindy Lou who that bitch think she is? She thinks she could pull this off or better in her Louis Vuittons? I don't think so bitch. It's giving take me daddy trash man, I'm a naughty garbage bag and I deserve to be compacted. Keep your man on a tight leash when I strut up wearing this, it's all I'm saying. You know I had to do a little runway shoot to boast how good I looked in my black sack

[oncanvas]

Yoshitsune's Horse-Washing Waterfall at Yoshino in Yamato Province, Katsushika Hokusai, circa 1832

Woodblock print 37.6 x 24.6 cm (14 ¾ x 9 ¾ in.)

[heaveninawildflower]

'White Heron and Iris' (circa 1832-34) by Utagawa Hiroshige (Japanese, 1797-1858).

Woodblock print.

Image and text information courtesy Art Institute Chicago.

[mlleclaudine]

Born into slavery, he rose to the top of France’s art world

by Sebastian Smee - The Washington Post, July 12, 2024

Guillaume Lethière’s epic life is the subject of a stunning new exhibition, in the U.S. before it travels to the Louvre.

Guillaume Lethière, “Woman Leaning on a Portfolio,” circa 1799. (Frank E. Graham/Worcester Art Museum/Bridgeman Images)

WILLIAMSTOWN, Mass. — During the most tumultuous period in France’s modern history, Guillaume Lethière was one of its most venerated artists. His story is epic. Charles Dickens or Alexandre Dumas (who delivered a eulogy at Lethière’s funeral) would have struggled to make it sound credible. Pity me, your poor reviewer.

He was the third child (“Le Thière” is French for “the third”) of an enslaved, mixed-race woman and a White plantation owner. Today, his paintings — some of them cinematic in scale — can be found in museums in the United States and Europe, including the Louvre, and also in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Among his smaller works is one of the most tender and beautiful portraits I know.

Don’t feel bad if you’ve never heard of him. But be aware that in Guadeloupe, where he was born in 1760, Lethière has long been celebrated. According to Esther Bell, the curator of an extraordinary new exhibition about Lethière, there is an auto-body repair shop in the coastal town of Sainte-Anne bearing the name “Guillaume Lethière.” Nearby, in the center of a busy rotary in the French neighborhood — previously the site of the plantation whereLethière grew up — is a huge steel sculpture in the shape of an artist’s palette alongside two enormous paintbrushes. Shapes cut out of the steel reveal the face of Lethière as he looked in an 1815 drawing by his pupil, the great neoclassical artist Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres.

This summer, you might see Lethière’s loveliest portrait (scholars think it probably depicts his stepdaughter, Eugénie Servières, herself an accomplished artist) blown up on highway billboards advertising “Guillaume Lethière” at the Clark Art Institute in Williamstown, Mass., through Oct. 14. The exhibition will travel to the Louvre in November.

Guillaume Lethière, “Lafayette Introducing Louis-Philippe to the People of Paris,” 1830-1831. (Tokyo Fuji Art Museum/Bridgeman Images)

Researched and developed over many years by Bell, the Clark’s deputy director and chief curator, with Olivier Meslay, the museum’s director, and accompanied by a 432-page catalogue, the exhibition tells the story of Lethière’s improbable life.

To understand his significance, it’s not enough just to look at his paintings and drawings — although these are very good and earned him accolades aplenty during his lifetime. You need to consider his own complicated proximity to the world-historical events through which he lived.

Born into slavery (or so it’s assumed, given his parentage and the telling absence of baptismal records), Lethière was brought to France by his father, the French king’s public prosecutor in Guadeloupe, in 1774, when he was 14. He began training as an artist in Rouen. Thanks to his father’s influence, he was already close to serious power by his late teens.

Guillaume Lethière, “Académie,” 1782 (Beaux-Arts de Paris/RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, New York)

But of course, staying close to power is not easy when the personnel keeps changing. Like others of his generation, Lethière had to steer a course through the last days of the Ancien Régime, the French Revolution, the Terror, the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte, European conquest, imperial collapse, a brief Bonapartist revival, a restored monarchy, and finally, just before Lethière’s death in 1832, a constitutional monarchy.

What makes him uniquely interesting is that he managed all this while also navigating the shifting implications of his illegitimate, mixed-race origins in Guadeloupe.

Lethière was neither smarmy nor sycophantic, but he knew how to ingratiate himself to others. He “won the esteem and friendship of everyone by his honesty, his politeness, and a frank and loyal character that never wavered,” wrote Francois-Guillaume Ménageot, the director of the French Academy.

Alexandre Clément, after Louis-Léopold Boilly, “Reunion of Artists,” 1804. Guillaume Lethière is shown at center. (Clark Art Institute)

Lethière and his mother, Marie-Françoise Pepeye, were both emancipated by his father, Pierre Guillon. But it was many years before changes to the law allowed Guillon to recognize Lethière as his son. Lethière and his sister were named as Guillon’s heirs around the time Napoleon seized power in 1799.

Even so, years later, Lethière had to defend himself against an embarrassing challenge by a distant cousin, who claimed he was the rightful heir. This was in 1819, when the artist was at the height of his renown. The courts eventually found in Lethière’s favor — but not before humiliating references in the press to the esteemed painter’s “naive and modest genealogy.”

Louis-Léopold Boilly, “Guillaume Lethière and Carle Vernet” circa 1798. (Stéphane Maréchal/Palais des Beaux-Arts de Lille/RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, New York)

Moral and political complexities choked almost every aspect of Lethière’s life. There’s no doubt, for instance, that he was an abolitionist. And yet he benefited financially from his father’s plantation, which depended on enslaved labor.

Although Lethière never returned to the Caribbean, he cared deeply about the fate of its people. He supported the revolution in Haiti, which began in 1791, just before the French monarchy was abolished, and welcomed the French government’s decision, in 1794, to end slavery in all its territories.

When, eight years later, Napoleon reinstated slavery in the colonies, brutally suppressing an attempt at resistance in Guadeloupe, Lethière was surely disappointed. But by now he was in with the Bonapartes. He painted portraits of, among others, Napoleon’s Caribbean-born wife, the Empress Joséphine, and hitched his fortunes to Lucien Bonaparte, Napoleon’s brother.

Guillaume Lethière, “Joséphine, Empress of the French,” 1807. (Franck Raux/Musée national des châteaux de Versailles et de Trianon/RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, New York)

In 1807, Lethière’s friendship with Lucien Bonaparte led directly to his appointment as director of the French Academy in Rome — an immensely prestigious post. There he reinvigorated the academy andoversaw the training of dozens of France’s best artists — among them Ingres, who made a series of stunning drawings of Lethière’s family (included in the show), and a female pupil, Antoinette Cécile Hortense Lescot, who went on to exhibit more than 100 paintings in the Paris Salon.

Ancient Rome was of intense interest not only to France’s revolutionaries, who looked to republican Rome as a model, but also to Napoleon, who of course saw more upside for himself in Rome’s imperial period. Art played a huge role in establishing these lines of pedigree.

Guillaume Lethière, “Brutus Condemning His Sons to Death,” circa 1788. (Clark Art Institute)

The French Revolution had broken out while Lethière was a student at the same academy in Rome. At the time, inspired by his environs, he worked on a major canvas, “Brutus Condemning His Sons to Death.” In a carefully structured, frieze-like composition, he depicted the founder of the Roman republic, Lucius Junius Brutus, looking on stoically as his sons, who had plotted to restore a monarchy, are decapitated.

Lethière returned repeatedly to this subject and to another episode from ancient Rome, “The Death of Virginia.” We can perhaps imagine the painting’s special significance for him when we understand that its subject — a father killing his daughter, at her own request — hinges on the dishonor of being enslaved.

Guillaume Lethière, “The Death of Virginia,” circa 1823-1828. (Rebecca Vera-Martinez/ J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles)

Versions of both paintings enjoyed great success when they were exhibited in Rome and London. But in Paris, tastes were changing, and by the 19th century’s second decade, romanticism was on the rise. Lethière’s neoclassical style began to fall out of favor.

Winning the 1819 inheritance case seems to have inspired Lethière to turn his attention back to the Caribbean, and in 1822 he painted one of his most audacious canvases — an enormous (approximately 11 by 7 feet) painting owned by the Musée du Panthéon National Haitien in Port-au-Prince. It shows two generals, one mixed-race and the other Black, swearing an oath to fight together for the freedom and independence of the people of Saint-Domingue (now Haiti).

Guillaume Lethière, “Oath of the Ancestors,” 1822. (Gérard Blot/Musée du Panthéon National Haïtien, Port-au-Prince)

After a risky and clandestine sea voyage, Lethière’s son personally delivered the painting to Haiti’s President Jean-Pierre Boyer in Port-au-Prince. Two years later, France’s Charles X grudgingly recognized Haiti — but only in return for an indemnity payment that would cripple the young nation for decades.

Unfortunately, the recent civil strife in Haiti has prevented the painting from traveling to the United States. Lethière himself intended the painting for a Haitian audience and, according to Bell, who has tastefully installed a reproduction of it in the exhibition, it “encapsulates Lethière’s fidelity to his place of origin.”

The Clark show immerses us in several decades of political tumult that continue to reverberate today. It has much to say about other French artists and writers with ties to the Caribbean. So it is much more than just a monographic exhibition. For all the stately arrangement of the Clark’s galleries and the superficial stiffness of Lethière’s neoclassical style, the exhibit is like a pinwheeling firecracker, blazing out light, knowledge and cultural energy, and deepening our understanding of a remarkable inheritance.

Guillaume Lethière Through Oct. 14 at the Clark Art Institute in Williamstown, Mass., and then at the Louvre in Paris from Nov. 13 through Feb. 17. clarkart.edu.

[jadeseadragon]

Katsushika Hokusai ‘Yoshitsune’s Horse-Washing Falls at Yoshino in Yamato Province (Washu Yoshino Yoshitsune uma arai no taki),’ from the series ‘A Tour of Waterfalls in Various Provinces (Shokoku taki meguri),’ circa 1832.

digitally enhanced