#italian interview | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

batsplat · 27 days ago

Note

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

#some of you lot really should be making more use of -#- the line 'because that's actually when problems can arise - if it's you that the italian falls in love with'#//#brr brr #clown tag #batsplat responds #i can also remember a post-retirement interview where he was up early to watch the motogp race and was suffering? can't find it though #im on the other side of the generational shift on this... the idea of approaching professional sport like that makes me twitchy #like so much of it these days is controlling every controllable variable perfect optimisation and all that. this feels so casual!!#and is honestly one of the things that makes his longevity the most impressive. one hell of a change to have to make mid career

168 notes · View notes

signorinaclaudiacardinale · 1 year ago

Text

"The Next Goddess of Love" by Alberto Moravia:

The well-known novelist attempted an analysis of C.C as a woman based on a detailed, almost clinical study of her body.

"The next Goddess of Love" as Moravia calls her, is seen as an object, destined in the quality of her physical presence to become a myth in the eyes of the viewer.

A.M: Let's proceed, describe your hair. C.C: I have long hair. A.M: How long? C.C: When it is down it reaches 5 centimeters above my waist. A.M: So you would say that your hair covers your back, almost to your waist. What color is it? C.C: Chestnut brown. A.M: It is not enough to say that it is brown. I would say that you have brown hair with quite bright red highlights. In addition, your hair is slightly wavy so that it does not fall limp and lifeless on your chest and shoulders, but rather has an appearance of vitality and movement as its waves follow the curves of your body.

A.M: What are your ears like? C.C: Since I was a child I had inferiority because my ears stick out a little from my head, they flutter in the breeze as the saying goes. A.M: They are nice, without a lobe that is too big, maybe your ears are a little big but it is not bad because they are a sign of longevity. Your eyes are black, right?

C.C: No, they are dark brown but shiny and luminous. My eyes are not that big and they are deep. A.M: I could add that the white ones are almost blue, like children's. And now, if you would be so kind as to laugh at me. C.C: How do you expect me to laugh? Special order?

A.M: You are laughing right now. I see that when you laugh, your eyes turn into two black slits. Now your nose. C.C: It is straight, slightly upturned, a little wide at the bridge and very narrow at the nostrils. It has a small groove at the tip. My eyebrows start at my nose and curve into two very regular arcs. A.M: Your nose is small but distinctive. I would say that it has a classic appearance but timed by modern sensuality, like Michelangelo's female figures. What about your mouth?

C.C: The upper lip is thinner than the lower lip, which is fleshy and protrudes a little with the corners down. A.M: How would you characterize your expression? C.C: A little stubborn, don't you think? A.M: Not only stubborn, moody, contemptuous and above all somewhat country, rustic. But your mouth completely changes its expression when you laugh. He loses his stubborn, peasant appearance and becomes… What does become?

C.C: I only know what happens to my face when I laugh, two dimples appear on my cheeks. The edge of my lip curves up so that it almost touches the tip of my nose and my nose wrinkles at the corners of my eyes. Who knows why? A.M: Because your laugh is strong, open, irresistible, like that of a girl bursting with happiness and giving free rein to her shyness. And how would you say what your teeth are like?

C.C: White, very regular but childish. A.M: I can see almost all of them when you laugh. I can also see a little bit of your gums, which are red and make an attractive contrast to the whiteness of your teeth. Your smile, or rather your laugh, takes us to the shape of your face, what is it like?

C.C: My chin is round, my jaw is small and curves towards my chin at an obtuse angle. I could say that my face shape is triangular. A.M: This shape gives it the appearance of an archaic, primordial childish face, raised towards the light. I see your long, round and robust neck, you realize that, right? C.C: Yes, my neck is long and people tell me that I always keep it stiff and straight, how should I put it? With a somewhat proud, disdainful look.

A.M: Now let's see your hands, let me see them. Your hands are understandable only if one realizes that your arms are long and thin and your wrists are very delicate. But how would you describe your hands?

C.C: I'm afraid they are not very feminine. A.M: They are a little square, the fingers are somewhat spatulated, the palm is not very fleshy, the midlines are deep and red. You have the hands of a child or a woman that are probably thin and dry but you are not thin and dry. It's quite the opposite and this brings us to your body. What are your shoulders like? C.C: They are full, round, completely feminine and graceful; nothing sharp or angular.

A.M: And your chest? C.C: I have a high chest. A.M: I would add that it is full and shapely since your bust measurement is 37 inches. What about your hips? C.C: I wish they were wide. A.M: Why? Wide hips are one of the characteristics of your body.Can you tell me about your legs?

C.C: They are straight and strong, not so thin and they have 3 dimples. A.M: What do you mean? C.C: They say that for the legs to be truly beautiful they must be delimited by three small grooves, even if they are very straight and very soft: One between the foot and the calf, another between the calf and the knee and another between the knee and the thigh. I have all three. A.M: Finally, how would you describe your beauty? C.C: I don't know if I'm really beautiful. I believe I'm strange-looking".

~This post has been a bit long but I have summarized the original interview from the book (I do not put more spoilers) Originally I took this summary from an Italian magazine from 1966. Personally I like this physical study that in the eyes of Moravia is different than in the eyes of Claudia Cardinale herself who is the owner of her attributes. Sometimes the defects that one sees in oneself are the beautiful characteristic in other eyes. I hope you liked the post 💖.~

#claudia cardinale #alberto moravia #interview #italian interview #1962 #60s #esquire #actress #photology

25 notes · View notes