#maria rosso

[thegianpieromennitipolis]

Da: SGUARDI SULL’ARTE LIBRO PRIMO - di Gianpiero Menniti 

CADONO LE UTOPIE DELL'UMANESIMO - Prima Parte

Cielo plumbeo che scolora nel violaceo saldandosi con un paesaggio di sfondo annerito dalle tenebre, la luce che scolpisce con durezza, trattando la materia con modalità plastiche, delineando volti e corpi nel segno di una sintesi espressiva netta, tagliente, definitiva.  La croce, che colma l’asimmetria della scena, ha una consistenza architettonica monumentale, centro di un movimento che scaturisce dalla Maddalena inginocchiata e contratta in uno spasimo scomposto diretto verso la Vergine, risparmiata dalla luce in un corpo che si abbandona cadente, retto da due pie donne, ad un muto disperato dolore.  Mentre poco sopra il movimento, realizzato con l’uso delle scale, si riavvita nello stagliarsi di muscoli contratti in un dinamismo esasperato che ascende, s’infervora brutalizzando i volti ed i gesti in una bassa manovalanza da cadaveri ed infine, a compimento di una parabola che segue il disegno della carpenteria della pala, si conclude nell’umanissima costernazione di un fanciullo che regge una delle scale mentre in primo piano un “masaccesco” San Giovanni, in analogia con la postura della Vergine, china il capo lasciandone il volto alle mani che coprono alla vista l’inesprimibile disperazione.  Non è un caso che i volti colpiti dal dolore siano occultati: quello della Madonna in ombra, quello della Maddalena di scorcio e poi quello di Giovanni. L’iconografia classica misurata sui protagonisti della scena sacra ne viene sconvolta, ribaltata a favore di comprimari senza nome, contriti (le donne) o affannati ed eccessivi (le figure che si dibattono intorno al corpo del Cristo). Questo contrasto anima di pathos profondo la scena che pur essendo scarna ed essenziale, appare satura di convincente ricerca espressionistica.  Il Cristo di questa deposizione, risalente all’anno 1521 e conservata a Volterra dove fu dipinta da Giovan Battista di Jacopo di Gasparre, al secolo Rosso Fiorentino (1494 - 1540) è davvero un corpo che possiede l’inerzia e la pesantezza di un cadavere, è trattato come tale in un coacervo di grida e di trambusto.  Eppure, la sua maestà è evidente: il volto è sereno, quasi sorridente.  Lo spasmo terrificante che coglie nell’istante della morte cruenta non ha lasciato segni: il suo spirito è già asceso mentre nessuno degli astanti se ne accorge.  Le scale degli uomini sono misera materia nel confronto con la levità del trascendente.  La materia è come schiacciata, racchiusa nello spazio angusto del supporto, spinta verso il basso dalla figura di un vecchio satiro appollaiato sulla sommità della croce.  Il corpo di Cristo è attratto verso la terra ma il suo volto è l’unico a protendersi, in un’involontaria torsione del capo, verso il cielo, verso la salvezza, verso la pace celeste. 

- In copertina: Maria Casalanguida, "Bottiglie e cubetto", 1975, collezione privata

[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA Il Centro di Oggi lunedì, 10 febbraio 2025

[demetrahopes]

le tre marie in rosso

[finestradifronte]

Mi manca...

Lo zoccolare fino in spiaggia con mia madre che mi diceva "cammina bene alza quei piedi"...pinoli per terra da schiacciare con i sassi...

l'odore della siepe di caprifoglio dalla pensione trieste al bagno emilio e quello dei giornali dell'edicola, misto a quello del mare e degli abbronzanti e della piadina...

la cuffietta bianca della piadinara...quella anziana, la prima ..che faceva le piade tirate a mattarello con il bordo frastagliato e il pezzetto di carta marroncina per portarle via ...

la luce bianca del mattino e la bassa marea con le righe della sabbia sotto i piedi, i buchini dei cannolicchi e schivare i granchi 

fare capannella con il tettuccio del lettino e il telo, il caldo sulla pelle...l'odore dell'abbronzante e il libro con sabbia tra le pagine...

e aspettare le 11 che non arrivavano mai per il bagno... il freddo dell'acqua al primo tuffo  o l'andare giù piano piano con tutta la pelle d'oca... i rumori attutiti quando si è sott'acqua.... il cretino di turno che ti slaccia il bikini...le spalle di mio padre per salirci a fare i tuffi...

correre sulla sabbia bollente saltellando tra un'ombra e l'altra...  stendersi al sole senza fare la doccia e sentire la pelle tirare con il sale che brucia appena sulla pelle un po' scottata sulle spalle ...

il fastidio della sabbia tra le dita e lavarsi i piedi nel rubinetto sotto le docce aspettando con il costume in mano per sciacquare anche quello...il profumo dello shampoo e il rigagnolo di schiuma e acqua sulla sabbia...

il cemento rigato e rosso e bollente della banchina del porto con le barche che partivano da Milano Marittima per la gita a Rimini e la voglia di tuffarsi lì ma la mamma non voleva...e stare in equilibrio sul muretto tra la banchina  e gli scogli ad aspettare gli schizzi delle onde,

il mare grosso i rari giorni che faceva temporale e a fare il bagno tuffandosi dentro le onde e ci si riempiva il costume di sabbia..

la pizza che faceva la sorella della vedova di Emilio alle cinque...e io le confondevo poi sempre quelle due...la Maria e l'Anna

Il rullo per tirare il campo da bocce e il barattolo bucato con il talco per fare le righe...e le premiazioni delle gare al  pomeriggio e se le coppie erano miste io ero un po' gelosa se mio padre giocava con la mamma della cecilia perchè era così bella...

e guardarti da lontano mentre giocavi a calcio sporco di sabbia dappertutto e cominciare a scoprire  quell'emozione nuova quell'attrazione mai provata... ecco cosa vuol dire innamorasi...il dondolo dell'Hotel Miramare dove per la prima volta ho capito che potevo anche godere del mio corpo...

I giardini del tennis con la terra rossa e la giostra e l'odore dei pini...

le tonde alla sera su e giù per viale Roma e baci infiniti sulle panchine, le feste al Giardino D'Estate con Gianni Togni che cantava Luna..e le puntate all'ippodromo di Cesena e le gite al Parco Naturale che mi sembrava così lontano...

Gli amici che poi non avresti rivisto più,  quelli che rivedi solo lì...e quelli che sono ancora con me ......il primo primissimo bacio sul dondolo della casa in affitto ...

il rumore degli aerei con la pubblicità...la pizzeria da Duilio e il cinema Italia all'aperto ...le lacrime  quando era ora di tornare e il grano nei campi era già mietuto e le arature portavano l'autunno...

Mi manca la felicità pura e spensierata di quel periodo quando ancora tutto poteva essere e ogni cosa era nuova e da scoprire ...e che non è stata mai più.

[postpunkindustrial]

Carlo Maria Cordio – Absurd (Rosso Sangue) 2XLP

Halloween Season: Giallo and Italian Soundtracks!

[wardrobeoftime]

Master Post - A to M

If you notice any show, movie or character missing that I’ve made gifs of, please let me know. Characters are sorted alphabetically by first their last name and then their first name.

Last updated: March 3rd, 2025

A

Aladdin [2019] (Princess Jasmine)

Allerleirauh (Princess Friederike | Princess Lotte)

American Song Contest (2022)

Aschenputtel [2010] (Marie/Aschenputtel)

Aschenputtel [2011] (Annabella | Aschenputtel/Cinderella)

Australia [2008] (Sarah Ashley)

B

Barbie (Stereotypical Barbie)

Beauty and the Beast [2017] (Madame de Garderobe | Mrs Potts)

Becoming Elizabeth (Amy Robsart | Mary Tudor)

Blood, Sex & Royalty (Anne Boleyn | Mary Boleyn)

Bridgerton (Tilley Arnold | Lady Berbrooke | Benedict Bridgerton | Daphne Bridgerton | Eloise Bridgerton | Francesca Bridgerton | Hyacinth Bridgerton | Violet Bridgerton | Queen Charlotte | Cressida Cowper | Agatha Danbury | Penelope Featherington | Philippa Featherington | Prudence Featherington | King George III | Siena Rosso | Edwina Sharma | Kathani "Kate" Sharma | Mary Sharma | Tessa | Marina Thompson | Extras)

Britain’s Bloody Crown (Margaret of Anjou | Margaret Beaufort | Elizabeth Woodville)

C

Cinderella [2015] (Anastasia Tremaine | Drisella Tremaine | Ella)

D

Das Adlon (Sonja Schadt)

Death on the Nile [2022] (Jacqueline de Belleforte | Linnet Ridgeway-Doyle)

Die Galoschen des Glücks (Princess Aurora)

Die Kaiserin (Charlotte of Belgium | Maria Alexandrovna / Marie of Hesse | Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Archduchess Sophie of Austria)

Die Salzprinzessin (Princess Amélie | Princess Eugenia | Princess Isabella)

Die Schöne und das Biest (Elsa)

Disney Live Action (see the individual movies | Extras)

Doctor Who (Ashildr | Cyril Arwell | Lily Arwell | Madge Arwell | Reg Arwell | Rosanna Calvierri | Miss Chandrakala | Agatha Christie | Hugh Curbishley | The Doctor | Twelth Doctor | Clemency Eddison | Jack Harkness | King James I | Katherine | Donna Noble | Madame de Pompadour | Amy Pond | Bill Potts | Robina Redmond | Becka Savage | Willa Twiston | Extras)

Domina (Agrippa | Antonia Major | Antonia “Antonina” Minor | Emperor Augustus | Julia the Elder | Livia Drusilla | Marcella | Octavia Minor)

Downton Abbey (Lucy Branson (née Smith) | Cora Crawley | Edith Crawley | Mary Crawley)

Dune: Prophecy (Ynez Corrino)

Dynasty [2017] (Kirby Anders | Fallon Carrington)

E

Effie Gray [2014] (Euphemia “Effie” Gray)

Elizabeth Duology (Elizabeth I)

Emerald City (Langwidere of Ev)

Emma [2020] (Isabella Knightley | Emma Woodhouse)

Eurovision Song Contest (1970 | 1974 | 1979 | 1980 | 1982 | 1988 | 1991 | 1992 | 1993 | 1995 | 1996 | 1998 | 2003 | 2004 | 2005 | 2006 | 2007 | 2008 | 2009 | 2010 | 2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2021 | 2022 | 2023 | 2024)

F

Frauen, die Geschichte machten (Catherine the Great)

G

Galavant (Madalena)

Game of Thrones (Myrcella Baratheon | Cersei Lannister | Ellaria Sand | Sansa Stark | Daenerys Targaryen | Margaery Tyrell)

Good Omens (Aziraphale | Crowley)

Grey’s Anatomy (Lexie Grey | Izzie Stevens)

H

Hamilton (Angelica Schuyler | Eliza Schuyler Hamilton)

House of the Dragon (Jeyne Arryn | Alicent Hightower | Mysaria of Lys | Aegon II Targaryen | Baela Targaryen | Helaena Targaryen | Rhaena Targaryen | Rhaenyra Targaryen | Rhaenys Targaryen | Laena Velaryon)

I

J

K

Ku’damm (Helga von Boost)

L

Legacies (Jo Laughlin | Hope Mikaelson | Elizabeth “Lizzie” Saltzman | Josette “Josie” Saltzman)

Les Misérables [2018] (Cosette | Fantine Thibault)

Little Women [2019] (Amy March | Margaret “Meg” March)

Ludwig II [2012] (Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Ludovika, The Duchess in Bavaria | Sophie in Bavaria)

M

Maleficent Duology (Princess Aurora | Queen Ingrith of Ulstead)

Märchenperlen (see the individual movies)

Maria Theresia [2017] (Maria Anna of Austria | Empress Maria Theresia |  Mademoiselle de Chartres | Elisa Fritz)

Marie Antoinette [2006] (Jeanne du Barry | Marie Antoinette | Empress Maria Theresia | Marie Thérèse Louise of Savoy, Princesse de Lamballe | Extras)

Marie Antoinette [2022] (Marie Antoinette)

Mary Queen of Scots [2013] (Mary Stuart)

Maximilian - Das Spiel von Macht und Liebe / Maximilian and Marie de Burgogne (Maximilian of Austria | Mary of Burgundy | Bishop de Clugny | Johanna von Hallewyn | Rosina von Kraig | Georg Rudolfer | Margaret of York)

Merlin (Morgana Pendragon)

My Fair Lady (Eliza Doolittle)

My Lady Jane (Jane Grey | Mary Tudor | Petunia)

Go to N-Z

[thekatebridgerton]

Eight deadly sins: Bridgerton partners edition

Companion piece to my 8 deadly sins Bridgerton siblings edition. So let's get started

Kate: Wrath

I think I chose her as Wrath because its the driving force behind most of her actions in TVWLM. Take playing pall mall, she doesn't want to win, she just wants Anthony to lose. Anthony pisses her off so much during their book that her almost in perpetual state of annoyance drives most of the actions she takes and also, it is often mentioned in later books, how much Anthony dreads making his wife angry. If you ask me, out of both of them it's Kate who has a tiny bit of an anger management problem. ( She's capable of ruining Maria Rosso whole career in a pique of annoyance, just sayin)

Sophie: Lust

Self explanatory. Sophie spent her entire book acutely aware that her lust for Benedict was a particularly terrible weakness of hers and as such she guarded herself against sleeping with him with all trough thick and thin. So much that when she does fall into bed with Benedict it makes her feel like she betrayed herself and makes her want to immediately run away from the situation.

Penelope: Pride

Penelope's pride was what ultimately led to her downfall. So proud of Lady Whistledown, so happy to have made a name for herself right under the ton's nose, so confident nobody would ever figure it out. Penelope likes being the smartest person in the room, she likes the invisible power her secret gives her. So much that the moment Cressida tried to take credit for LW Penelope's pride wouldn't let her get away with it! And her hurt pride also leads her to lash out at Colin when he discovers her secret. It's her life work! She's not going to let anyone minimize what she's achieved

Simon: Vanity

He does think he's hottest snack in the room and needs protection from matchmaking mamas. No Seriously all jokes aside, for someone that insecure, he does have a very high opinion of himself that borders on vanity. Simon has worked all his life to build his public image, to hide the parts of him that his father deemed undersirable and cultivate an image of aristocratic aloofness. It's Daphne seeing past all that, which makes Simon break character and start liking her

Phillip: Sloth

More like, he was content with the bare minimum, before Eloise came into his life. Most of Phillip's sins in TSPWL can be blamed on inaction, some because he didn't know what to do,(deal with the aftermath of Marina's death) others because he was too passive to actually do what needed to be done (take charge of the raising of his children) Phillip is content with inaction, with isolation and distance. That's all he's ever known. At least until Eloise lights a fire under him and pushes him to make things right

Michael: Gluttony

I guess I put Michael in this category because Gluttony is the sin of overindulgence and he's the merry rake. Michael is an overindulgent person, not just in Francesca's eyes, but also in the eyes of everyone else. Which makes it ironic that the only thing he's had restraint in, has been his desire for Francesca.

Gareth: Greed

His greed comes in good faith okay. We still love him. But truth be told he still has to replenish his family fortune by marrying an heiress and he's still looking for the family diamonds for this reason. Gareth's greed is ultimately channeled into healthy outlets but we all know that had lady Danbury left him to his own devices, he would undoubtedly have married for money

Lucy: Envy

Like Gregory, Lucy ended up getting envy by process of elimination. Which is fitting considering that while she doesn't Envy anyone's life, she does envy the fact that they have a choice in the outcome of said life. Lucy's entire life has been controlled by her uncle while Hermione and Gregory did grow up with families that let them have a choice in how they wanted their lives to be. Even Richard has more choices than she does. And Lucy envies them for this. Not to the point of wishing anyone ill, but yes to the point of trying to make sure the people she loves don't squander the chances they got, because she doesn't get to have those chances

An: honestly this post was hard because I do think all the Bridgerton partners are Angelic beings who have done nothing wrong. Still I did my best with the prompt

[urluch-in-dla-nebia]

Arlechìn 🎭 Arlecchino

Fra le maschere italiane è forse la più conosciuta e popolare. Si tratta anche di una delle maschere più antiche, le sue origini si possono infatti rintracciare nella figura del “diavolo burlone” delle favole medioevali e in seguito nel “buffone” delle compagnie di comici girovaghi alle corti principesche o fra i saltimbanchi e gli acrobati nelle fiere e nei mercati dei sobborghi, sempre affollati di gente in cerca di divertimento. Nativo di Bergamo bassa, parla inizialmente solo nel suo dialetto locale. Il suo vestito era in origine bianco, ma con il tempo a furia di rattoppi con pezzi di stoffa di ogni genere, è diventato quello che oggi tutti conosciamo; un variopinto abito composto da un corto giubbetto e da un paio di pantaloni attillati, entrambi a losanghe e triangoli di tutti i colori. Arlecchino ha un carattere stravagante e scapestrato. Ne combina di tutte, inventa imbrogli e burle a spese dei padroni avidi e taccagni dei quali é a servizio, ma non gliene va bene una. Intendiamoci Arlecchino non é uno stupido; magari è un ingenuo, talvolta forse un po' sciocco, ma ricco di fantasia e immaginazione. In quanto a lavorare nemmeno a parlarne. Però fa lavorare la lingua e molto. I suoi lazzi, le sue battute, le sue ingenue spiritosaggini, fanno ridere a crepapelle tutti quanti. Quando poi non sa come cavarsi da un impaccio o a liberarsi da un guaio, Arlecchino diventa un abile maestro nel far funzionare le gambe; capriole, piroette e salti acrobatici.

Brighèla 🎭 Brighella

Brighella deve il suo nome al suo carattere attaccabrighe, insolente e dispettoso. E’ il compare di Arlecchino. Entrambi sono nati a Bergamo. Brighella non fa solo il servo come Arlecchino, ma un'infinità di altri mestieri, più o meno leciti ed onesti. Così si ritrova sempre in mezzo a svariati intrighi. Elementi caratteristici del personaggio sono la prontezza e l'agilità della sua mente, per escogitare inganni e preparare trappole in cui far cadere il prossimo, tutto questo solo per il gusto stesso di imbrogliare gli altri. E' intrigante, molto furbo e senza scrupoli. Brighella inoltre è un tipo bugiardo, racconta frottole con sicurezza e convinzione che è quasi impossibile distinguerle dalla verità. Inoltre è molto abile nel cantare, suonare e ballare. La giacca e i pantaloni sono decorati di galloni verdi; ha le scarpe nere con i pon pon verdi. Il mantello è bianco con due strisce verdi, la maschera e il cappello sono neri.

Giopì de Sanga 🎭 Gioppino

La tradizione vuole che sia nato da Bortolo Söcalonga e Maria Scatolera a Zanica, Bergamo, dove vive con la moglie Margì ed il figlio Bortolì. Ha anche due fratelli, Giacomì e il piccolo Pisa 'n braga [Pisanbraga], e i nonni Bernardo e Bernarda.

La sua principale caratteristica fisica sono tre grossi gozzi, da lui chiamati le sue granate o coralli, che ostenta non come un difetto fisico, ma come veri e propri gioielli. Faccione furbo, rubicondo, vestito di grosso panno verde orlato di rosso, pantaloni scuri da contadino e cappello rotondo con fettuccia volante, di mestiere fa il facchino e il contadino, professioni che non svolge preferendo guadagni occasionali meno faticosi. Di modi e linguaggio rozzissimi, di buon cuore, porta sempre con sé un bastone che non disdegna di usare per far intendere la ragione, sempre comunque a vantaggio dei piccoli e degli oppressi Gioppino incarna il sempliciotto rozzo ma di buon cuore, pronto a difendere i deboli. Ha assunto, tuttavia, anche una connotazione negativa, come persona furbastra e inaffidabile tanto che nel linguaggio comune si suole dire fare la figura del Giupì di chi non mantiene la parola o usa mezzucci per concludere raggiri di poco conto. Gioppino oltre che essere una maschera è anche un burattino ed è protagonista di moltissime commedie per il teatro dei burattini. .

Meneghìn 🎭 Meneghino

Meneghino è una maschera lombarda che nasce nel Seicento. Impersona un servitore rozzo ma di buon senso che, desideroso di mantenere la sua libertà, non fugge quando deve schierarsi al fianco del suo popolo ed è assai abile nel deridere i difetti degli aristocratici. Il nome deriva da “domenighin”, appellativo del servo che la domenica era solito accompagnare le nobildonne milanesi a messa o a passeggio.

Meneghino è la maschera tradizionale milanese e come la sua città è generoso, sbrigativo e non sa mai stare senza far nulla. Da lui nasce infatti l'appellativo “meneghini” in riferimento agli abitanti del capoluogo. Ama la buona tavola e davanti ad una fetta di panetùn possono anche salirgli le lacrime agli occhi, non solo perché ne é molto goloso, ma perché gli ricorda la “soa Milàn” e il “so Domm” di cui non smette mai di vantarsi. Vestito di una lunga giacca marrone, calzoni corti e calze a righe rosse e bianche, cappello a forma di tricorno sopra una parrucca con un codino stretto da un nastro, ancora oggi, assieme alla moglie Cècca, trionfa nei carnevali milanesi.

[elliemarchetti]

The Queen of the Quills - Jily Edition (Part 5)

Posting on Tumblr too because this fic's sister is already there.

Reading The Queen of the Quills - Blackinnon Edition will not be mandatory to understand the developments of James and Lily's story, but some details could be shared, therefore, for anyone wishing to fully enjoy the experience, I will leave this series' masterlist here.

This was @athenasparrow's gift for @jilymicrofics ' Exchange 2024, but if you like it and are willingly to reblog, it would be super appreciated since stories like this require quite some time and effort🥰

Taglist (if anyone wants to be added, please DM me or comment and I'll gladly add you!): @thaisthedreamer

Plot: James Potter, London's most evasive bachelor, an impertinent libertine, has decided to get married. He has also already chosen his wife, the debutante Lily Evans, a self-confident young woman who has not the slightest intention of being seduced by such a man. A Bridgerton inspired Regency AU.

Words: 4093

Mrs. Potter’s musicale proved to be a decidedly musical affair (not, this author assures you, always the norm for musicales). The guest performer was none other than Maria Rosso, an Italian soprano from the all-witch choir known as Spellbound who made their debut in London two years ago and has returned after a brief stint on the Vienna stage. With thick, sable hair and flashing dark eyes, Miss Rosso proved as lovely in form as she did in voice, and more than one, or it would be better to say more than a dozen, of society’s so-called gentleman found it difficult indeed to remove their eyes from her person, even after the performance had concluded.

The Queen of the Quills, May 17, 1813

Lily felt the exact moment he walked in the room. She tried to tell herself it had nothing to do with a heightened awareness of the excruciatingly handsome wizard, she couldn’t imagine that every woman didn’t notice him immediately, and furthermore, he arrived late – not very, but still enough he had to try to be quiet as he slipped into a chair at the front next to Mrs. Evans – still she noticed him before her own mother and sister did, and it rendered her unable to even breathe. He didn’t look her way, but several candles had been snuffed, leaving the room bathed in a dim, romantic glow, so the shadows must’ve obscured her face and the way she tried to keep her eyes on Miss Rosso throughout the performance, even if the woman couldn’t take hers off of Mr. Potter, and for some reasons, it didn’t improve her disposition. She should’ve rejoiced in the fact, it was just another piece of proof he was every bit the licentious rake she’d always known him to be, but she wasn’t feeling smug, or vindicated, she was just heavily, uncomfortably disappointed, so much so she felt herself slump slightly in her chair.

When the performance was done, she couldn’t help but notice how the soprano, after graciously accepting her applause, brazenly approached her suitor and offered him one of those seductive smiles, the sort Lily would never learn to do even if she had a thousand opera singers trying to teach her. There was no mistaking what she meant with that act, and he must’ve realized too, because he threw her a mysterious look and actually tucked an errant lock of her raven hair behind her ear.

Lily shivered in disgust. For Merlin’s beard, the man didn’t even need to chase women, they practically dropped at his feet and whispered sweet nothing in his ears! Maybe she praised him, or maybe she outwardly offered herself, because he leaned down enough to kiss her neck.

“Lily?” hissed her mother, decidedly irritated. “Stop watching Mr. Potter.”

“I wasn’t… well, all right, I was, but did you see him?” she whispered urgently. “He’s shameless.”

She looked back over at him, still flirting with Maria Rosso, no care in the world about who might see.

“I’m sure his behaviour isn’t any of our business,” replied Elizabeth, lips pursed into a tight line. “He has been kind in delivering the invitations to the musicale himself, but I’m certain he wants nothing to do with you after that fiasco in Hyde Park.”

If the situation had been different, Lily would have argued that it wasn't her fault that his dog had pushed her into the water and he jumped in to save her when she was already swimming toward the shore, but she didn't have the energy to argue right now, so she sagged her shoulders and followed her family as they greeted their lovely hostess. Mrs. Potter had fair hair and light eyes, and she was rather petite to have mothered such a large son, so Lily decided her late husband must’ve been a tall man.

“Mrs. Evans,” she said warmly, “what a delight to see you again. I so enjoyed our meeting at the last ball and I must say I’m very glad you decided to accept my invitation.”

“We wouldn’t dream of spending the evening elsewhere,” her mother rejoined. “And may I present you my daughters? The older one is Petunia, and the younger one is Lily.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, and I would like to introduce you to Mr and Mrs. McKinnon’s daughter, Marlene,” she said, motioning to a young lady at her side. For some reason, Lily was convinced she had already met her, but maybe she was just a classmate she had passed a couple of times in the corridors at Hogwarts. After all, Londoners were used to minding their own business there too, and she had no doubt that someone so beautiful and seemingly delicate was constantly surrounded by flocks of other adoring young women. Anyway, Lily smiled warmly at the girl, who looked to be about the same age as her, even though the similarities between them ended here: her blonde hair were a perfectly styled field of lovely golden wheat and her face was angular, a rather sharp contrast with Lily’s roundness.

 “Is this your first season?” she asked, already friendly.

Both Lily and Petunia nodded.

“How lucky!” she exclaimed. “I attended a few parties last year and may I say they were a bit… boring? Everything was so new the first time, but by the end of spring I already remembered everyone’s name. This way, I thought I could get an excellent match, but as you may see by yourself, I’m still unmarried.”

As Marlene spoke, Mrs. Evans glanced at her son, who kept flirting madly with the Italian opera singer, and frowned.

Lily felt something very uneasy in her stomach: according to recent issues of The Queen of the Quills, Mrs. Evans was on a mission to get her son married off, and while he didn’t seem the sort of man to bend to his mother’s will, or anyone’s, for the matter, she had a feeling the woman would be able to exert quite a bit of pressure is she so chose. Maybe that was why he was so intent on courting her.

After a few more moments of polite chatter, the Evans left Mrs. Potter to greet the rest of her guests and were soon accosted by Mrs. Bones, who, as the mother of three daughters, two still unmarried, always had a lot to say to Elizabeth – she had long declared herself on a first-name basis with the Evans – although that day her gaze was firmly focused on Lily, who immediately began to assess possible escape routes.

“What a surprise to see you there!” boomed the stout woman, leaving her interlocutor puzzled. “Gossip said you were ill.”

“Don’t worry, it was nothing that serious,” Lily retorted, with a weak smile. How Amelia had managed to become a pleasant person to have around with a family like hers Lily just couldn't explain.

“From what I heard, you contracted it in a rather serious way,” Mrs. Bones added, brows rising a good half inch. It was evident she knew, maybe she was even at the scene, but there was really no need to talk about it at the Potter’s.

“A way of little consequence, as you can see,” Lily countered firmly, although she was finding it difficult not to growl at the meddlesome woman.

Mrs. Bones opened her mouth, a sharp intake of breath telling she was preparing to launch into a lengthy monologue on the topic of the importance of good deportment, or good manners, or good breeding, but her youngest promptly interrupted her, offering to fetch lemonade for everyone.

“Lily, would you be so kind as to help me?” she asked, turning to the one she set out to save. “Unfortunately, I still don’t have enough hands to carry all those glasses.”

Lily tried not to appear too eager to accept, but everyone must’ve noticed their urgency to flee from how quickly they walked away, dodging those present with skill.

“Thank you,” she murmured to her saviour once they reached the lemonade stand and grabbed four glasses, for everyone except Petunia, who said she wasn’t thirsty.

“I know how my mother can be, I’m usually her favourite victim, so since I could avoid you what would’ve sounded like a lecture from an almost stranger, I took advantage of it. I’m sure somehow she would’ve found the opportunity to insert me into the conversation just to define me an impertinent social failure,” replied the other, and although a part of Lily wanted to pity her for that cruel fate – no mother should behave like that with her daughter – another part told her not to do so, because the girl needed an ally, not yet another young lady looking at her like a hopeless cause.

“Can we go back for a glass for ourselves?” asked Amelia as soon as they reunited with their families, and her mother nodded in a matter that told Lily everyone must know her youngest wasn’t her favourite.

“Why don’t we go out for a bit of fresh air? Since we’re together, we don’t need a chaperone,” suggested the redhead, who wanted a little more space to investigate on what the wizarding society really thought of Mr. Potter. Was he a hypocrite? A scoundrel? Or even a liar? Had he by chance deluded women and then abandoned them without any prospect? Did he have bastards? She didn't know why she cared so much, after all he probably believed her a menace to society, or he wouldn’t have acted as he was doing with Miss Rosso, still she needed to know if it was the norm or just a game to get back at her. So she asked, rather forward, as she and her friend sank into a cushioned bench about ten yards from the music room. They remained there for several minutes, more than pleased with the comfortable intimacy of their gossip, until they heard one particular voice rise slightly above the low rumble of the crowd, followed by decidedly musical laughter. After a shared look of realization, they hitched up their skirts by a few inches to save themselves from tripping and ducked into the doorway next to the bench, hoping Mr. Potter and his paramour would walk on by, and they could scoot back into the music room and laugh about their little adventure. As their eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, they realized they were in some sort of office, with walls lined with books, although not enough to be a library, the place dominated by a massive oak desk with papers laid on top of it in neat piles. Clearly the place was lived, not just for show, and as curiosity got the better of them, they wandered toward the desk, Lily running her fingers along the wooden rim. The air still smelled faintly of ink, and maybe the slightest hint of pipe smoke. All in all, she decided, it was a lovely room, comfortable and practical, a place a person could spend hours in lost in lazy contemplation, but just as she was about to lean back against the desk, savouring the quiet solitude exuding from the place, she heard and awful sound. The doorknob clicked, and with a frantic gasp, Amelia disappeared, leaving her with no other option than dive under the desk, squeezing herself into the empty cube of space and thanking the heavens that it was completely solid rather than the short that rested on four spindly legs. Barely breathing, she listened, cursing herself for not taking Apparition class seriously.

“I had heard this would be the year we would finally see the notorious Mr. Potter fall into the parson’s mousetrap,” came a lilting feminine voice. Lily bit her lip, recognizing the Italian accent.

“And where did you hear that?” came James’ unmistakable voice, followed by another awful click of the doorknob that made Lily shut her eyes in agony. She was trapped in the office with a pair of lovers. Life simply couldn’t get any worse than this, unless she was discovered, though it didn’t make her feel much better about her present predicament.

“It’s all over town,” Maria replied. “Everyone is saying you have decided to settle down and choose a bride.”

There was a silence, but Lily could swear she could hear him shrug: “It’s probably past time.”

“You are breaking my heart, did you know?” she asked, making Lily nearly gag.

“Now, my sweet signorina, we both know that your heart is impervious to any of my machinations,” Mr. Potter murmured, and Lily pictured him as close as they were before, his lips nearly on her skin, because next came a rustling sound, which she took to be Maria pulling coyly away to state she wasn’t inclined for a dalliance.

“I don’t look for marriage, of course, that would be most foolish, but when I next choose a protector, it shall be for, shall we say, the long term,” she added, low and husky.

“I fail to see the problem.”

“Your future wife may not.”

“The only reason to give up one’s mistress is if one happens to love one’s wife,” Mr. Potter chuckled. “And as I don’t intend to choose a wife with whom I might fall in love, I see no reason to deny myself the pleasure of a lovely woman like you.”

Lily tried to imagine the reaction of the couple if she jumped out of her hiding place, screaming like a madwoman, asking what made him think she was the right match if that was his plan from the start. It nearly made her laugh, and at the same time she wanted to cry, because there was no way she could make the entrance she wished to make when she was squatting like a frog with her hands wrapped around her ankles. A few unintelligible sounds distracted her from her fantasies, and she dearly prayed they weren’t a prelude to something considerably more intimate. After a moment, though, Mr. Potter’s voice emerged clearly, asking to the singer if she cared for something to drink. Maria murmured her assent, and James’ forceful stride echoed along the floor, growing closer and closer, until he came into view, his athletic frame displayed to surprising benefit from her vantage point on the floor. If he just kept his face to the window as he poured, she might escape detection, but if he turned so much as halfway she would be as good as dead, for she had no doubt he would kill her. Frankly, she was surprised he hadn’t tried last week at the Serpentine.

“Is everything all right?” Maria called out, when Mr. Potter clinked the tumblers slightly together as he set them down before pouring two fingers of amber liquid into each glass.

“Perfect,” he answered, although he sounded vaguely distracted, like a dog sniffing the air around in search of his prey. Maybe that was why Lily froze and stopped breathing completely, eyes wide and unblinking, as he started to hum slightly to himself and his body slowly began to turn.

Keep walking, she screamed in her head, keep walking to your lover and don’t look back.

But it didn't go that way, and she watched with complete and utter horror as his eyes scanned her starting from her shoes and pinned her where she was.

__________________

James knew quite well why he’d brought Maria Rosso back to his study. Surely no warm-blooded man could be immune to the charm of her lush body and her intoxicating voice, and he knew from experience that her touch was equally potent, but even as he took in that silky sable hair and those full, pouting lips, even as his muscles tightened at the memory of other full, pouting parts of her body, he knew he was using her. He felt no guilt in that regard – she was using him as well, and she would at least be compensated for it, whereas he would be out several jewels, a quarterly allowance, and the rent on a fashionable townhouse in a fashionable part of town – no, if he felt uneasy and frustrated, if he felt like he wanted to put his damned fist though a brick wall, it was because he was using Maria to banish the nightmare that Lily Evans was from his mind. He never wanted to wake up hard and tortured again, knowing she was the cause, he just wanted to drown himself in another woman until the very memory of his recurring dream dissolved and faded into nothingness, because Merlin knew he was never going to act on that particular erotic fantasy because he shouldn’t like her like that. The though of making love to her, and not just bedding her, made him break out in a cold sweat, even as it swirled a ripple of desire right through his gut. Bloody hell, the woman must’ve bewitched him, there could be no other explanation for the dream, and besides, even now he could swear he could smell her. It was that maddening combination of lilies and soap, that beguiling scent that had washed over him while they were in Hyde Park.

“Is everything all right?” Maria called out.

“Perfect,” James said, voice sounding tight to his own ears. He began to hum, something he’d always done to relax, and he turned, even started to take a step forward, because after all Miss Rosso was waiting for him, but the damned scent followed him and his foot hesitated in midair, his step forward proved to be a small one instead of his usual long stride, and he kept turning, his nose instinctively twisting his eyes toward where he knew there couldn’t be lilies until he saw her under his desk, crouching like a frog. It was a wonder he didn’t drop the whiskey as their eyes met, and he saw hers widen with panic and fright.

Good, he thought savagely. What the hell was she doing here? Wasn’t making a scene after he doused himself in the filthy water of the Serpentine to rescue her enough for her bloodthirsty spirit? Did she need to spy on him as well?

“Maria,” he said smoothly, moving forward toward the desk until he was nearly stepping on Lily’s hand. “I have suddenly remembered an urgent matter of business that must be dealt with immediately.”

“This very night?” she asked, quite dubious.

“I’m afraid so. Allow me to walk you to the door,” he said, and although the singer’s eyes were curious, she still took his arm and forgave him for his rudeness for not taking her back to the music room.

“I am a grown woman, I believe I can manage the short distance,” she laughed, a low, sultry sound that should’ve seduced him. “And furthermore, I suspect there isn’t a woman alive who could deny you forgiveness with that smile.”

“You are of a rare kind, Maria Rosso,” he replied, hoping she couldn’t feel how far his head was from this conversation. Not too much physically, since Lily was just a few steps away, but metaphorically…

“But not, apparently, rare enough,” she murmured before floating out, finally giving James the possibility to shut the door with a decisive click, turn the key and pocked it. At the sound, Lily crawled out of her hiding place, leaning on the edge of the desk for support, apparently unable to start the much-needed explanation she had to give about her presence.

“Well?” he asked, breaking the bubble of silence.

“It was an accident!” she exclaimed. “I was sitting in the hall and I heard you coming. I was just trying to avoid you and your lover, to spare the embarrassment to everyone...”

“So you decided to invade my private office?” he asked, suspicious.

“I didn’t know it was your office. I…” she started, but was unable to finish her sentence, probably intimidated by his deliberate proximity. He could swear he was hearing the frantic beating of her heart coming from beneath the bodice.

“I think perhaps you did know this was my office,” he murmured, letting his forefinger trail down the side of her cheek. “Perhaps you didn’t seek to avoid me at all, on the contrary, you desired something else, something more… insane?”

Lily swallowed convulsively, long past the point of trying to maintain her composure.

“What do you say to that?” he asked, his finger sliding along her jawline.

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t have uttered a word if her life had depended on it. He wore no gloves, he removed them during his interrupted tryst with Maria, and the touch of his skin against her was so powerful it seemed to control her body, for she breathed when he paused, stopped when he moved. He had no doubt their hearts were beating in time as his breath kissed her lips, and he smiled, victorious, when she deleted the little distance still separating them. It was evident she was an innocent who wouldn’t know what it was like to have a man so near the heat of his body seeped through her clothes, who wouldn’t recognize the first prickles of desire, nor would she understand that slow, swirling heat in the core of her being, but it was there, he could see it in her face with only one look of his experienced eyes.

James told himself that if she hadn’t kissed him, he would’ve stopped right there, left her bothered and breathless, but he knew he was lying, he knew the moment there had been barely an inch between their faces back in her house and he resisted the pull to give in to her beguiling scent only because the footman might’ve saw them. But right now, there was no chaperone, they were in the privacy of his study, her mother was probably immersed in conversation and the prickles of desire he’d meant to spark within her suddenly ignited him, sending a warm claw of need to the very tips of his toes. Although her kiss had been chaste, and rather desperate, the fingers he’d been trailing along her cheek to torture her suddenly became a hand that cupped the back of her head, and his lips took hers in an explosion of desire, making her gasp against his mouth, something he took advantage of to slide his tongue between them. She was pliant in his arms, so James pressed his suit further by allowing one of his hands to slide down her back and cup the gentle curve of her derriere.

It was madness, he knew he should stop and he damned well shouldn’t have started, but his body was racing with need and he felt so good he had no intention of letting her go. It was like when he was younger, with no care in the world, and his father was still alive, ready to rule the family and gift him with the chance to mess up without consequences a little more, and at the same time he found she possessed something that suited him like no woman ever had before. Something about her was just right, maybe her smell, or maybe the way she felt in his arms, and he knew that if he stripped off all of her clothes and took her there on the carpet on the floor of his study, she would fit underneath him, around him, just right. A low, triumphant growl emerged from James’ mouth as he moved it to her slender neck and further down, in the expanse of skin usually hidden by the bodice he moved slightly, enough to not expose her right away but still more than decency allowed. With ragged and fast breath, he pinned her to his desk, crazed, frantic, leaving small red marks wherever he sucked, regardless of the consequences.

“Do you still hate me?” he asked, and when she slightly shook her head, he cupped one of her breasts, covering it entirely with his hand. Just as he was plotting the best course back to her lips, he heard the perfectly awful sound of Sirius’ voice outside the door.

“James!” he shouted. “I know you’re here and your mother does too. She needs your assistance and asked me to tell you to stop fucking Miss Rosso.”

Miss Evans, blissfully unaware of how close she’d come to having been pleasured utterly senseless, threw a horrified look to the door.

“One of these days,” James muttered, “I’m going to have to kill him.”

[sembrachiara]

rosso determina

#131

©️ Maria Flavia Vanni

[thegianpieromennitipolis]

Da: SGUARDI SULL’ARTE LIBRO PRIMO - di Gianpiero Menniti 

CADONO LE UTOPIE DELL'UMANESIMO - Seconda Parte

Iconologia, iconografia e stile della "Deposizione di Volterra" sono quelle del paradigma rinascimentale dei tre grandi Maestri?  Per nulla.  Il modello è ormai quello del rinascimento idealizzato e poi tradito.  Il XVI secolo avverte sé stesso come l’impero romano percepì la sua caduta: è un secolo che sente la decadenza.  Il Rinascimento appare, in questo senso, come l’affannarsi teso a nascondere il dramma delle “albe incompiute” dell’umanesimo: si tratta di un’espressione del filosofo italiano Massimo Cacciari, il quale vede nel “Rinascimento”, soprattutto nel passaggio tra ‘400 e ‘500, un’epoca di straordinaria crisi che segue alla caduta delle utopie dell’umanesimo. Quali erano queste utopie?  Sostanzialmente una: l’utopia della virtù che sconfigge la fortuna, l’uomo padrone del proprio destino.  Con essa, cade anche l’utopia della combinazione armonica tra filosofia medievale e filosofia moderna e l’utopia della pace politica che, specialmente in Italia, corrisponde al venir meno, al collassare dei Comuni a vantaggio delle Signorie, ma in tale frammentazione e debolezza da far diventare la penisola italiana facile terra di conquista per le potenze nazionali europee, in particolare Spagna e Francia.  La caduta dell’impero romano, dicevo.  Sì, questo sente del suo mondo l’uomo rinascimentale.  E come sempre accade nel clima di  consapevolezza della decadenza, le corti della misera Italia, corti debolissime dal punto di vista politico e militare, sono invece, per contrasto, i centri dai quali promana florido il prestigio artistico e culturale.  Al secolo delle utopie, segue, dunque, il secolo della crisi e questo porta con sé il rifugio nell’arte e nella speculazione libera da congetture e dogmi, direttamente tratta dall’osservazione del reale.  Che non è un bel reale.  E che ha quindi bisogno del richiamo al classico, all’armonia, alla misura.  È illusione: sarà la visione del Laocoonte scaturito dalle viscere della terra romana a dare il senso di un confine superato che artisti come Rosso Fiorentino avvertono con chiarezza fin dai loro esordi dopo l’esperienza di bottega presso Andrea del Sarto vissuta in comune con il suo alter ego, il Pontormo, divisi anche dalla fede politica: con Savonarola il primo, mediceo il secondo.  Quella di Rosso Fiorentino è dunque una maniera nuova di rappresentare l’umano ed il soprannaturale: i corpi, le figure, i gesti, sono congeniali all’espressione di un occhio che vuole scrutare i reconditi magmatici anfratti dell’anima.  Nelle immagini che propone si avverte la rude, durissima pietà arcaica dei Piagnoni seguaci di Savonarola, la vocazione austera della breve repubblica fiorentina sul dorso dei due secoli.  In quel 1521 tutto è ormai perduto e Rosso ha iniziato il suo lungo peregrinare tra piccoli e grandi centri d’Italia, un vagare decennale che, dopo il “Sacco” del 1527 lo condurrà, nel 1530 a stabile dimora in Francia, alla corte di Francesco I a fare da apripista a quella che verrà definita la “maniera internazionale” della cosiddetta scuola di Fontainebleau.  Fino alla morte sopraggiunta dieci anni dopo in circostanze drammatiche tutt’ora poco chiare, in linea con lo spirito profondo ed inquieto di quest’artista ribelle. Ma se facendo queste affermazioni si possa declinare verso l’idea che Rosso appartenga ad un filone artistico classificabile, valga a togliere ogni equivoco la personale tendenza a disconoscere una qualunque codificazione della “maniera” che non sia quella tracciata dal Vasari.  Il resto è libera interpretazione, sensibilità artistiche molto variegate che non sono accomunabili in un profilo unitario denominabile.  Per certi versi, il “manierismo” che si contrappone al classicismo della maniera “vasariana”, non esiste se non in una molteplicità di anime e di filoni culturali e stilistici irriducibili ad un’impronta comune. 

- Rosso Fiorentino (1495 - 1540): "Pietà",1537-1540, Louvre, Parigi

- In copertina: Maria Casalanguida, "Bottiglie e cubetto", 1975, collezione privata

[mancino]

Arthur Parodi Secchi

AL CHIARO DI LUNA 1

È quella semplice emozione che ha la forza di prendersi l’anima.

Maria questo lo sapeva.

Guardava le sue mani sui tasti. Le dita affusolate, smaltate di rosso, si posavano delicatamente sulle note. E in ogni respiro che liberava lo dedicava a lui, un’anima che non restava mai ferma neanche la notte; al buio inseguiva il suo sogno libero.

- continua -

Buona domenica!.

[canesenzafissadimora]

La vita è un filo rosso. Ci attraversa

da alfa e omèga il battito del cuore.

Maria Luisa Spaziani

[postpunkindustrial]

Carlo Maria Cordio - Absurd (From "Rosso sangue" / Remastered 2021)

Halloween Season: Giallo and Italian Soundtracks.

[jacopocioni]

Tutte le location di "Amici Miei Atto I": 2° tempo

Primo tempo Inizio Secondo Tempo Per i fiorentini DOC il film "Amici Miei" rappresenta un tassellino di cuore, non solo perché è girato a Firenze, ma anche perché vi si ritrova quello spirito, e quella malinconia, che il fiorentinaccio sente propria. Devo mettere subito in evidenza che il lavoro di trovare queste location non è tutto mio, ma per talune mi sono rifatto ad un blog che per quanto riguarda il cinema è davvero portentoso. Si tratta de il davinotti, un sito web che vi consiglio di andare a guardare e sfogliare. Chi è appassionato di cinema non può non leggerlo. In questo articolo sfrutto molto del loro lavoro e unisco a questo immagini e tecnologia. Attraverso Maps si possono raggiungere le varie location e vederle per come si presentano oggi e confrontarle per come erano allora. Ovviamente cliccate sul link in colore rosso. Proseguiamo... Eravamo arrivati all'ufficio del Prof. Fanfani dove il Melandri si lascia mollare tutto il blocco familiare.

Location 17 e 18: La prima location subito dopo è dove Melandri va a prendere a scuola i figli del Sassaroli e la seconda è un'altra tragica passeggiata con Birillo. Nel primo caso ci troviamo in via del Curtatone e la scuola è Villa Favart (Grazie a Gianni Degl'Innocenti Balsicci). Il treno Birillo invece strattona il Melandri ancora in Piazza Gulielmo Oberdan che ritroviamo come sede delle riprese per la seconda volta nel film. Se il blog il davinotti vuol aggiungere le due location si senta libero di farlo.

Location 19 e 20: Dopo un pranzo disastroso a casa del Melandri, fatto di sottocoppe di peltro, sformati sformati e bambine sottopeso i cinque amici, su diagnosi del Sassaroli, si dirigono a Santa Maria Novella dove a suon di schiaffoni ritrovano l'allegria. Una scena mitica che ogni buon fiorentino ha sognato di poter emulare almeno una volta nella vita. Nella scena successiva c'è di nuovo la Clinica del Sassaroli a Pescia, che è sempre la villa alla fine del viale Agusto Righi. Villa che adesso ospita splendidi appartamenti. Ovvio che il Sassaroli rimandi in corsia l'operando dato che ha un caso molto più urgente. Il caso urgente? Una zingarata no?!

Location 21: Partiti per la zingarata dalla Clinica del Sassaroli si ritrovano a Calcata Vecchia in provincia di Viterbo dove con esilarante ferocia abbattono il paesino per colpa dell'Ente Regione che vuol far passare proprio da li la nuova Autostrada delle Ginestre con annesso svincolo per la tangenziale Est. La scena si svolge in piazza Umberto I nel centro del paese. Esilarante il parroco che suonando le campane raccoglie i fedeli per parlare dell'imminente disastro. Lo si potrebbe definire un poco "farfallino", ma con il "politic corect" si è ridotto molto l'uso del linguaggio libero.

Location 22: Finito di distruggere Calcata Vecchia vuoi non ti venga appetito? I cinque si ritrovano allo "zoo" a vedere le donne come fossero animali, per poi decidere di andare a mangiare "dal Ramaiolo"; come sappiamo il Mascetti, pieno d'orgoglio, digiunerà. Il luogo dove è stata girata questa scena è stato trovato da Zender, l'Archivista del blog il davinotti. Zender si è recato addirittura sul posto per fare delle foto e per confermare la location. Si tratta di Sant'Ellero, nel comune di Pelago. Certo oggi il posto è cambiato, e non poco, ma sotto c'è ancora una fabbrica che Zender, oggi, attribuisce alla cartiera Carlo Brandigi. Chi sa se c'è ancora la "cicognona" con la coda di cavallo.

Location 23: In una nuova retrospettiva il Mascetti si dimostra geloso della Titti, convinto che abbia un altro uomo. In questa scena la Titti percorre via Monalda, provenendo da piazza degli Strozzi, e dallo sporto subito dopo il civico 4 sbuca il Mascetti che la pedina. La Titti raggiunge la sua meta che è l’albergo Porta Rossa, in Via Porta Rossa 19, subito in fondo a via Monalda. Si accorgerà il Mascetti che non è becco d'un uomo, ma di una donna, ed anche meglio della Titti.

Location 24 e 25: Il film fa una retrospettiva anche su come il Mascetti ha trovato il suo famoso scantinato. Si torna quindi nella zona dell'Isolotto in viale delle Magnolie all'angolo con viale dei Pini. Nella scena successiva, il Mascetti, schifato da quel groviglio di tette, culi e cosce, si è deciso a lasciare la Titti e a dedicarsi alla famiglia. Nella realtà, la notte stessa, si alza e se ne esce per trovare un telefono e chiamare la Titti. Lo si vede arrivare con la sua scoppiettante Oldsmobile da via Romana per fermarsi in Piazza San Felice al civico 4. Qui c'è (c'era) la famosa farmacia Pitti dove si svolge la scenetta del "tubetto di compresse di cefalo" (di cefalo, non contro la cefalea). Questa antica farmacia è purtroppo andata perduta recentemente come racconto in questo articolo, scritto quando ancora si cecava di salvarla.

Location 26: La casa dove il Mascetti si reca dopo la telefonata è quella della Titti, dove la ragazza vive con il vecchio genitore, il Colonnello Ambrosio, armato di doppietta. Anche per questa location va ringraziato il blog il davinotti, in particolare Sammo che ha scoperto che in realtà la casa della Titti è a Roma. Si tratta di Via Fulcieri Paulucci de Calboli. Il colonnello lo ritroveremo allo scantinato del Mascetti a comunicare alla povera moglie le malefatte del marito.

Location 27: La passeggiata "seria" con la Titti. Il Mascetti dopo ciò che è successo, la fucilata, il Colonnello che parla alla moglie e Alice che tenta di asfissiare tutta la famiglia con il gas, decide che deve interrompere la relazione con la minorenne Titti. Si fa prestare un vestito di Lucianino dal Perozzi e con un piglio degno di un funerale va alla scuola della Titti e con lei passeggia spiegandogli perché la relazione deve finire. La scuola della Titti è il Museo archeologico di via della Colonna, a Firenze, e il Mascetti è in attesa al numero 35 sempre di via della Colonna.

Location 28 e 29: Da qui parte la passeggiata che vede il "parlante" Mascetti e la muta e biascicante Titti in più scorci fiorentini. Read the full article

[you-should-care-about-animation]

December 2023

My favorites this month were Nighthawk, Fest, The Fall and Bubble Bath!

Nighthawk - Špela Čadež (2016), The Fall - Boris Labbé (2018), Absent Minded - Roberto Catani (2013), Bubble Bath - György Kovásznai (1979), Animated Putty - Walter R. Booth (1911), Fest - Nikita Diakur (2018), Le Parc aux Cerfs (2023), Tampopo - Jūzō Itami (1985), Cloudy - Filip Diviak & Kateřina Čupová (2018), The City - Sabin Bălașa (1967), Krabi - Václav Mergl (1976), Amane Diary - Amane Oda (2021), Stupid Dinner - Victoria Vincent (2023), Kitten - Viktor Minakhin (1968), La Sagra - Roberto Catani (1999), Il pesce rosso - Roberto Catani (1995), dream girls - TAEETIMEE (2023), Country Ball 1989–2012 - Jacolby Satterwhite (2012), A Short Vision - Peter Foldès & Joan Foldes (1956), Ave Maria - Ivan Ivanov-Vano & Vladimir Danilevich (1972)