#th: camillo

[fortunetellsrp]

@courtesons sent 8C to camillo (meme)

"I think you can take more than that." Camillo said, accent dripping into his words as he looked down at Leo, phone locked on his face as he struggled to take all of his cock. Sweat dripped from his face, the tip of his cock hitting the warm tightness of his throat, just barely. "Come one now... D'you want me to find someone who can do a better job?" He teased, a bit cruelly perhaps but he enjoyed seeing him struggle, figuratively or not. He pushed his hips up, forcing more of his cock into his mouth, moaning lowly at the added pleasure as he captured every second of it. "Do a good job and I'll let you choose who I share this video with..." He teased, leaning back with a sigh and letting him take over once more.

[bewitchingbaker]

Ѡ

A yawn escaped the baker's lips as he scrolled through his phone. The last hour of work was always torture, people rarely walked in since it was so late on a weekday. At least he had his phone and tv with some basic cable (damn Camillo keeping things cheap). The sounds of Ugly Betty could be heard filling the background as he looked up any gaming news on his phone.

*DING*

His eyes were drawn to the notification in the corner of his phone. Wanda? With an image attached? Maybe she baked something and wanted to get his thoughts. With a hum, Chris opened the message from his friend and the image made his eyes widened.

".....!!!!"

It wasn't every day you saw a friends nudes, especially one that was so well taken. The angles were perfect and her choice of lingerie was *chef's kiss*.

Nervously, the baker began to respond back.

[TEXT]: Uh..

[TEXT]: Wanda? I think u sent ths 2 the wrong person

[TEXT]: good choice of lingerie though :)

[ @hcxcd ]

[dancingthesambaa]

The Madrigal Obstacle

Diego de León is a simple boy with simple needs. He likes to help out around his community, he likes to build all types of things, he likes his Pandebono extra cheesy, and he certainly likes Mirabel Madrigal.

Unfortunately, that last thing is what caught the attention of the Madrigals Family.

Four times where the Madrigals had a talk with him and One time where a Madrigal actually had a talk with him

Continuation of Mirabel Unique Gifts

Cousins

Diego was having a weird day.

He doesn’t know why, but he swears that he could feel eyes pierce down on him as he walks through town, but when he looked back, all he could see were Toucans, Ferrets and a stray Capybara.

“Am I going crazy?”

“Hey Diego!” He jumped up in fright at the surprised voice, but he was at ease when he saw it was just Mirabel's pretty little face. “You okay?”

“Hey Mira, no nothing is wrong, I just had a weird feeling.”

“Hmm, maybe it’s just your imagination,” she giggled, which threw the elder teen for a loop.

“…right. So, how have you been? I know you were working on those new pants with the vine embroidered in it,” he knew that this was supposed to be a birthday gift for her eldest sister. She kept gushing to him over her ideas of vines all sprouting out into different colored plants with unique appearances, he could easily see the sparkle in her eye the longer she went on and boy did he want her to keep going.

“Oh same old same old, let’s talk about you. What do you plan to do in the future?”

“You know me, you already heard my goals all laid out,” he casually stated as he slowly came to a realization.

“Right, I almost forgot, what I mean to say is how do you plan on dealing with disasters that might happen if one may occur?”

“I should ask you, you're the one who's keeping a sharp eye, hell I've seen you save Cruz from falling off the roof. Can you tell me how you did that again, it was so cool,” Diego grinned at the slight panic in her eyes.

“Maybe another time. How about the Madrigals? Who do you think is the best one?”

“I mean obviously you, you're basically the coolest, it certainly is not Camillo,” he chuckled at the slight twitch.

“What do you mean by that?” She thinly said.

“You know how they play tricks on everyone, their nasally little voice at times, how their hair frizzes out at awkward times,” he grinned as Mirabel gets more and more irritated.

“What else?” She hissed out.

“And their acting-” he was cut off by an enraged teen.

“What about my acting!” She shouted out.

“Nothing, but I saw through it,” he joked at the surprised look on the false Mirabel’s face.

“Whaaat? What do you mean?” The fake tried to dismiss it, but he felt his head get forcibly pushed down.

“The jig is up Millo, he found out, which I have to admit is a bit impressive,” said Dolores, taking her hand off her head and looking at Diego with a grin. She has to admit not many can see through her little sibling’s disguise, even when she has times where she can’t.

“Anyone else I would probably never know, but you made a mistake when Mirabel didn’t begin to talk all about her sewing. She would have gushed on and on about the new designs she thought up of,” he grinned as Camillo reverted to their original self.

“You tricked me!” They hissed out with a slight glare.

“Says the one who tried to trick me first,” he shot back.

“Impressive,” they reluctantly said.

“Really cool,” he jumped up once more and saw Antonio suddenly appear on top of the Jaguar. “Not many can see through Cam's disguise!”

“Why thank you Tonio,” he ruffled the little boy's hair, before facing the older teen and young adult. “So, should I ask why you shapeshift into Mirabel, or were you just trying to prank me?”

“We just wanted to have a little chat with you,” the eldest said as she stepped forward with a teasing grin as she said, “I had a certain little thing about you liking my little cousin.”

Diego's face still had a pleasant smile, but he was cursing in his mind profusely. He keeps forgetting that there's someone in this village that can hear every last thing. “Of course I like her, she’s my friend.”

“Oh is that all,” they drawled as they began to circle him. “Just a friend.”

“Yesss?”

“But you like like Mira!” Antonio happily perked up. “And that means you really like her!”

“As in, you have a crush on her,” Dolores had a little smirk of success when she noticed him stiffening.

“Don’t get me wrong, she's an amazing, beautiful, and wonderful friend who is just filled with kindness and joy, but that’s all she is. A friend,” he smiled as if he didn’t reveal his feelings.

None of them believe it.

“You know she listens to the music box you gave her every night?” The eldest sister said with her arms crossed.

“She does!” He swiveled his head to her as a large smile bloomed on his face.

“Just a friend, huh,” said Camillo with their brow raised.

“She is,” he affirmed a little more firmly, but now avoiding eye contact.

“But you said all those nice things about her?” The youngest Madrigal said.

“Well-”

“And you hang out with her a lot.”

“That’s because-”

“And you even gave her your hat to borrow when Mama was especially happy that day and you had the same expression Lolo makes when she and Mariano watch each other when the other thinks no one is looking.”

“I do?” Dolores curiously asked, but then the second bit processed through her brain and she had a sappy smile on her face. “He does?”

“All the time,” Camillo nodded, before facing the older teen once more. “Look let’s cut to the chase, you like Mirabel and for some reason she likes you. Frankly, I think she’s too good for you, but I know since we were children that she has no taste.”

Dolores slapped them upside the head.

“OW! You can’t slap me when I’m right!”

“What’s there trying to get is that, be kind to Mirabel okay. She may not be naive in the way of life, but she is still naive when it comes to romance, so go easy. A woman's heart is only so sturdy,” Dolores smiles kindly at him.

“I will,” he nodded because at this point he understood his heart was out and wide open.

“Good, because I will know if you don’t,” she happily stated.

“And if I find out you did, you better learn how to keep one eye open when you sleep,” Camillo threatened as they suddenly transformed into Diego’s grandmother with too wide of a smile. “Because you will never know who's tucking you in.”

“I promise,” he had to hold back a smile at their attempts to be scary.

“Do you pinky promise?” Antonio said with a held out pinky.

“I pinky promise,” he locked his pinky and the two shook on it. “And if I do, accidentally, hurt her. You’ll be the first to know.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll know before you because I have eyes and ears everywhere,” the small boy smiled as he motioned towards all the animals, from the birds in the sky to the Jaguar he was sitting on. “My friends will let me know and if you do, Freckles will take a big bite out of you!”

“Whose Freckles?” Diego asked with a bit more trepidation.

“His/My Jaguar,” Dolores, Camillo, and Antonio said simultaneously.

“Ah,” was all he said.

“Freckles likes Mira a lot, she gives him the best belly rubs, so he would love to take a bite out of you if you make Mira cry,” he stated as Freckles growled in agreement.

“Of course,” he slowly nodded his head.

“Don’t make Mira cry,” Antonio bluntly said.

“I won’t,” Diego shook his head.

“Good!” And with that, he and the rest of the animals began to walk off as he waved goodbye. “See you later Diego!”

“Better get back to the Casita, I still need to know how Julian will win the heart of the heartbroken Mateo,” Camillo commented as they too followed. Dolores got them hooked onto Bruno telenosa and now they can’t stop, the plot is truly riveting.

“Better get used to our antics, you know our family,” Dolores patted him on the shoulder.

“Since I was born,” he chuckled.

“Hopefully the rest will go as peacefully as ours,” was the women's final parting words before catching up with the rest.

“The rest?” He muttered to himself before spinning around with wide eyes. “What do you mean ‘the rest?’”

He got nothing as she merely gave him a mischievous grin and turned to her younger siblings and stated. “They're gonna eat him alive.”

“Yes, they are!”

“Yup!”

2. Parents, Aunt, and Uncles

“And there we go,” Diego wiped sweat off his brow as he stood back to see the finished barn. “It took a bit, but at least the donkeys shouldn’t be able to get out of this during the night. Now morning is a whole other problem that is not my problem,” he joked as he collected his tools. Maybe if he had time, he could swing by the tailor shop and see if she needs any help. He may not be good with sewing, but he will happily help her out, besides it is always fun to hang out with her. Especially when she starts to spazz out when her favorite thread is available, she starts to go on about what she could do next and even sometimes, accidentally, grab onto his arm as she does it then-

“Nice job on the barn,” he immediately jumped out of his thoughts as saw Felix walking over and complimenting him.

“It’s nothing really, just a little fix-up was needed,” he modestly said as he made sure his face wasn’t red.

“Well it’s still a fine job,” the older man said.

“Thank you, are you bringing those over to the market?” He asked as he noticed the basket filled with tomatoes.

“Those are for me,” a voice said as Julieta and Augustine walked toward them, the woman continued. “I was thinking of making some Arepas today.”

“Ooo that sounds absolutely delicious,” Pepa said as she and Bruno appeared from the fields.

“How did you make her angry this time?” Julieta sighed as she knew the two together were a trouble that already happened.

“I told her the Earth is flat,” Bruno happily stated.

“It is not flat,” she hissed, making thunder rumble.

“Of I know it isn’t, but man did those crops get watered,” he cheekily added. He always found it a little fun to tease his sister, even when he was younger. He may not be as mischievous as he was when he was younger, but it hadn’t entirely gone away.

“I swear one day, I will drown you in rain,” she rolled her eyes but smiled as she felt her twin shoulder bump her.

“But you won’t~” He will admit that he has sorely missed his twins. Even if he could see them, being with them and talking to them really made him understand that there is nothing better than the real thing.

“Of course you would say that,” Julieta sighed with a slight smile. It was good to see her other two twins getting along again.

Diego was watching the whole thing with an amused smile that he didn’t notice eyes staring at him until he met Augustin and took a step forward with his hand outstretched. “Um hello, it’s nice to meet you I’m-”

“Diego, I know,” the father's eyes narrow.

“Ah,” he put his hand down, he thinks he knows where this is going.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he stood at full height, which only barely met his, as he marched up to the tall sixteen year old. “Mirabel is my youngest daughter and I am her father, therefore it is my job to make sure no one harms a hair on her head.”

“Which we don’t think you will, you seem like such a nice boy,” Felix butted in.

“Not a single Madrigal will ever tolerate it, not even if they are a close friend-”

“Which we know the two of you are quite close.”

“Or boyfriend,” he emphasized.

“Such a romance is touching.”

“No one is the exception.”

“Which we don’t think you will ever do,” Felix finished off.

“Do you understand,” Augustin said as he look the startled teen dead in the eye.

“Yes sir,” he nodded.

“Are your husbands doing a good cop, bad cop routine?” Bruno leaned over to whisper to his twins.

“That’s Felix for you,” Pepa smiled at her husband.

“Augustin,” the healer shook her head in mirth as the two women walked over to their husband that was surrounding the teen. “I think that’s enough of that.”

“But Mi Duclee,” he whined as he was gently, but forcibly, backed away from Diego by his wife.

“I think the boy understands.”

“Such threatening words,” Pepa teased and kissed her husband on the lips.

“Couldn’t be too hard on him,” he joked back. He had to admit that it was fun playing good cop.

“Next time leave it to the professionals.”

“You good there,” Diego slightly jumped when he felt Bruno’s hand on his shoulder. “I think they gave you a bit of a fright.”

“It’s fine,” he tried to wave off the elder man's concern. “They're just concerned about their daughter and niece, it’s perfectly fine.”

“I’m glad you said that, it’s gonna make this next part a little less awkward,” he clapped his shoulder as he stood in front of him.

“What next part?” He jumped in fright as thunder boomed as the area around them was surrounded in pitch darkness with the only light source coming from the flashes of lightning and glowing green eyes staring him down.

“I know all and I see all,” Bruno ominously said as the clouds rolled around them, “I might not be the villain in the story, but I can be a monster in yours if you dare try to harm Mirabel Madrigal.”

Diego could only freeze in fright as he continued to stare at the man.

“Everyone's future may be a butterfly, always fluttering in different directions, but yours will be squashed like a bug it is if you dare to hurt her, do I make myself clear.”

“Yes sir,” he lowly said.

“Great!” Then everything vanished in a flash as the sun returned and a smiling Bruno was in front of him. “Sorry for that little scare, but I just had to make sure.” He could never do something like that to his family, oh no he truly can’t force himself to be a villain to them, but to anyone else outside of it. Well, all bets are off, after all, if he could read the future to one of Pepa's ex-boyfriends with a smile on his face after he dumped her for not liking the rain then he will absolutely do it for Mirabel. She deserves every good thing under the sun after all she tried and done for this family and he will make sure that will happen.

“Like I said,” Pepa said with a smirk as she dusted off the dirt on her dress. “Leave it to the professionals.”

“Beautiful,” Felix clapped his hands and his wife gave a mock curtsy.

“That was beautiful,” Augustin compliment Bruno's acting skills.

“You gotta teach me how to do that,” Felix said as he wrapped his arm around his brother-in-law's neck.

“Well it starts with body positioning,” he began as the two began to talk.

“They can be a bit much,” Julieta chuckled as she went over to the boy with a Pandebono in hand.

“Oh I wasn’t hurt,” but that didn’t matter as he was still given the bread.

“I know you weren’t, but food is always good for the soul,” she gently told him. “And besides, it’s nice to meet such a kind and reliable young man like yourself that cares for my daughter. Don’t try to deny it-” she stopped him before he could open his mouth. “I’m a mother and I know the look. You two are in love and you might not say it out loud, but I know you said it in here,” she tapped her head.

Diego said nothing, but the blush on his face told her everything.

The mother couldn’t stop the fond smile, “I may not have future sight like my brother, but I can see the both of you will be quite close, whether it’s friends or something else.” She gave him one last look before ushering the rest of the family back to the town.

Diego just watched them leave them as soon as they were out of sight he collapsed to the ground.

“Mirabel truly has some frightening family,” he breathed out as he looked up to the sun, but couldn’t help the smile and pushed his hat further down his face and took a bite out of his bread. “It’s nice to see how much they care for her.”

“Honestly I’m shocked Julie didn’t try to threaten him,” Bruno said as they walked through the town, Pepa nodded her head as well.

“Mi Dulce would never do that,” Augustin tried to defend his wife.

“Oh no I would,” Julieta bluntly said with a smile on her face.

“Really? Then why didn’t you join me,” he slightly whined as Felix tried to hold back his snort.

“That’s because I know our two eldest will take care of that for me,” she sweetly told him.

That made everyone laugh at what was to come.

3. Sisters (+ 1 Honorary Brother)

“There’s nothing better than a nap under the tree,” Diego sighed as he stretched out his limbs after a hard day of work. He stared up at the cloudy sky and couldn’t help, but thought that it could be better if Mirabel was beside him. Whenever he would take a nap, she would usually lean next to him and silently work on one of her sewing projects or just softly hum as she stopped to point out the interesting clouds. It was such a quiet and mundane routine that of course, he enjoys every little moment with her.

“You said it,” Diego raised his brow at the sight of Mariano coming up to him.

“Hey Mariano,” he slowly said as the man came up to his tree. He knows the man because he was his senior when Mariano was still in school. He sometimes would help out his classmates with homework, but he never really had a one on one talk with him.

“Hello Diego,” he smiled and sat right down next to the teen.

Diego blinked as he watched the older man lean against the tree and just stay silent. Minutes had passed and the man still hadn’t said a word, just still leaned back against the tree with a smile on his face.

“Okay I’ll bite, what do you want,” Diego bluntly said, Mariano wasn’t an adult, or at least not in his eyes, so he really wasn’t as careful as to how to speak to him.

“I am so glad you asked!” He popped up and put a hand on his chest. “Now I know the journey is quite ferocious with obstacles in your way whether it be an outside force or simply with yourself, traps laid about in the most unusual places, and even the sea of passion may question your own desire at your darkest of times. It may seem unbearable and grueling, believe me that I had my own ups and downs, but it will all be worth it when you embrace your beautiful goal.”

“…what are you talking about?” Diego questioned the sanity of the man.

“Why your love for Mirabel,” he laughed obviously.

“I am not about to talk about this,” he hissed out as he pinched his nose.

“Ah but we are, for you see I see Mira as my dear little sister and my heart will truly ache if her heart was broken.”

“So this is your threat warning,” he amusedly said. Everyone in the village knew Mariano may have strength only second to Luisa, but he is a pure softy at heart. He once cried when he stepped on a worm by accident, but he was a bit confused when he started to shake his hands.

“No no no, not me, I am weak of heart for something like that, but them,” he pointed to the left of him, and Diego's heart stopped as he saw Luisa and Isabella Madrigal slowly walk towards them with stone faces. “You should be very much frightened of them.”

Diego gulped.

“Hello Diego de León,” Isabella cooly said once both sisters reached the still teen. “I’ve heard that you’ve taken an interest in my little sister,” she cut straight through.

“Y-yes,” he didn’t dare think about lying, especially not when he was suddenly hanging upside down by a vine.

“Mirabel maybe my annoying little sister, but I’ll be damned if anyone outside of my family harms a single hair on her head. Do you want to know the last person who tried that?” Isabella mused as she let another vine make its until it stopped in front of his eyes and from the tip of it bloomed a beautiful blood red rose adorned with many thorns. “To this day, he still cannot sit properly without wincing.”

“Neither can he look at a rock the same way,” Luisa narrowed her eyes as she placed a hand on the tree he was previously on and slowly began to bend the tree. Not to the point that it snapped, but just enough to hear the audible groan it made as it freaked under her strength. “Apparently he’s one of those people whose two faced depending on the person's worth, are you like that?”

“No! I am not like that!” He shook his head violently.

“Good then we won’t have any problems,” she smiled and when the vines put him back down on the ground she gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. “Better keep your word.”

“Keep all of what I said in mind,” then with a flick of her hair she walked off, but not before pausing. “Oh and come to dinner next week.”

“Was that an offer or-”

“Come to dinner next week.”

“Will do,” he saluted and the two girls walked off.

“See you at dinner next week,” Mariano patted his back and walked off as well.

Diego kept still for a few moments before blowing out a breath of air and gently knocking his head on the tree. “What have I gotten myself into,” he groaned, but shook it off and walked back home. “But I’ll be damned if I don’t do this, for Mirabel I will. Now it's time to beg Abuela to teach me how to make Torta De Tres Leche because there is no one way I’m arriving empty handed.”

4. Abuela ( +1 Sentient Home )

Diego nervously shuffled the packed cake in hand as he walked closer to the door of the house.

“Okay. Okay, you can do this, it is just dinner. Everything will be just fine, we will just have dinner like normal people, eat, talk, then leave. Everything will be fine and absolutely nothing will go wrong.”

It was at that moment did he fumble over his feet and only by the grace of the pavement literally rising up to catch his fall did he not drop the cake.

“Right, magic house,” he said as he was slowly put back on his feet. “Thank you, Casita? Right? I know that’s what Mirabel calls you.”

He got the window flapping open, so he’ll take that as a confirmation.

“Awesome, you're awesome, everything awesome and I realized I just jinxed myself and this is gonna go bad isn’t it,” he exhaled a long stream of breath.

The welcoming mat sprung up and patted him on the back in comfort.

“Thank you for the support,” he patted the back of the rug and stepped to the front door, which did put a smile on his face at the image of Mirabel smiling happily as she’s surrounded by family. “Let’s do this,” then he knocked on the door.

It took a few moments before the door swung open and relaxed when he saw Mirabel's real face.

“Hey!” She said surprised as she ruffled down her skirt that was adorned with paint splatters and tucking a stray curl behind her ear, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was invited for dinner.”

“What?” She deadpanned.

“Yeah I got some cake, made it myself,” he presented his Leche cake. He never thought cake could be so hard to make, but he was proven wrong again and again. He will never underestimate the power of cake.

“What?”

“I get the feeling that you didn’t know about this,” he drawled out. “Isabella invited me.”

“She did what?!” She thinly shrieked before taking a deep breath and putting an almost fake smile on her face. “Can you give me a moment?”

“Take your time,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” then she shut the door and the next thing he heard was a scream.

“ISABELLA!”

After that, a few more thinly veiled shrieks were heard until finally the talks died down and a few moments later the door was swung back open with Mirabel looking a bit more presentable. “Come in.”

“So, didn’t get informed,” he said with a slight grin on his face as he stepped through and began to walk to the kitchen.

“Not in the slightest,” she said between her teeth.

“Welp, at least we can be awkward together,” Diego chuckled.

Mirabel gave a puff of amusement as the tension slowly relaxed from her body. They eventually made it to the Dining Room where Dolores and Mariano were sitting, the older man gave the elder teen a wave.

“Glad you can make it,” he said with a smile on his face.

“You knew about this,” Mirabel's eyes narrowed.

“Yes I did,” he chuckled as she glared harder at him. “We’ll just look on the bright side, at least this time you don’t have to worry about any disasters that may destroy the magic again.” The town got the story, but he got the full story from his sweet hummingbird, though he did have to ask. “Right?”

“Hopefully no, if so it’s not on me this time,” she eventually said, though both of them and Diego turned towards Dolores.

“No secret disasters to worry about, just a normal family dinner,” she reassured them.

“Have you met us?”

“I have and you all are incredible, especially you, my beautiful rainbow,” Mariano romantically said.

“Aww, my sweet bear,” she cooed back as the two began to go into their own little world.

“And now we lost them,” Mira sighed at the two.

“At least they’re not teasing us,” he joked.

“You said it, hey do you want me to take that from you?” She pointed to the cake.

“No it’s fine I’m just waiting to give it to-”

“Diego de León, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Alma's voice inadvertently cut him off as she and the rest of the family made their way into the room with the food.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well ma’am,” he gave a slow nod at her before presenting that cake. “I made cake if anyone wants a piece.”

“I’m sure we would,” she eventually smiled at him and took the cake from his hands, “now please sit down, let’s have dinner.”

And the dinner…didn’t go so badly, there were a few teasing comments and the ominous staring thrown in his direction, but all in all, it was a pretty good dinner.

“I have to give props where it’s due, this cake is delicious!” Camillo complimented the older teen as she took a bite out of the cake.

“You're telling me,” said Luisa as well, even Isabella couldn’t help but clean her plate off as well.

“Well I’m glad everyone liked it, I know my Abuela would have my ears if it wasn’t perfect,” Diego joked, which earned a few laughs out of many.

“Better ears than the nose, my mama would twist it whenever I happen to get into too much mischief,” Alma chuckled as she gracefully stood up and held out her hand. “Would you mind taking this old lady to the backyard?”

Diego exchanged a glance with Mirabel, who looked equally as shocked, before standing up and following her. “Yeah, Umm of course.”

As they left Mirabel went to stand up but was stopped by a vine wrapping around her body, she shot a glare at her eldest sister that was causally sipping her drink. “Isabella!”

“Now now, he’ll have to face the final boss eventually,” Camillo cackled, but wince when she felt her ears pulled.

“Don’t call your Abuela a final boss,” Pepa pinched her ears.

“That’s tame of what you used to call her,” Julieta couldn’t help but say, earning a snort of laughter from Bruno and a gust of wind in her direction.

“Hush you two,” she sends both her twins a small glare that ends up cracking at their shared amusement.

“Don’t worry Mira, I’m sure it will be fine,” Antonio patted her on the leg when he took over Diego’s seat.

“I hope so,” she muttered and settled in the vines.

In the backyard, the stars were out and shining brightly alongside the crescent moon, the warm breeze gently whispered through the grass and mismatched flowers, and the silence between Diego de León and Alma Madrigal was stagnant.

Diego continued to walk next to the elder woman, but he couldn’t help but glance over to her from time to time and wonder when she would say something. He was starting to get anxious after the seven minute mark had passed and they were still trailing around the backyard, which he didn’t even think could be so big.

“I made many mistakes in my life,” he was startled by her first words. “Putting salt in my mother tea instead of sugar, breaking my arm after trying to hop from one tree to the next, accidentally giving my husband a black eye after he ran into my elbow, not running fast enough, I have made many mistakes, but do you know my biggest one?”

He shook his head.

“My biggest mistake is unknowingly harming my family, that is something I can never forgive myself, not even after they forgive me. The pain I brought them can never be forgiven and the only thing I can do is to make sure that never happens again, whether it comes from my hands or anyone else’s. So tell me, why should I let you be with my youngest granddaughter.” Because they might not be dating now, but it will soon be inevitable with how close the two are.

Diego let the question sink in before he breathed out a puff of air before motioning over towards the bench. “Would you mind sitting for this, it might take a while.”

Alma gave him an amused smile and indulged him as the two sat down on the stone bench.

“Has Mirabel ever told you about the first time I met her?” He asked.

“She did mention the two of you meeting when during the beginning construction on the Casita,” she said.

“That’s when we first talked, but not when I first saw her,” Alma’s brow raised in interest as she motioned for Diego to continue. “I can’t remember the day, but I remember when I first saw her, she was hauling a basket full of sewing materials, and trailing behind her were some of the town's children. And even though they kept talking to her, pulling on her skirt, and accidentally spilling her entire basket, she never once lost her smile. The first thing that popped in my head was ‘Wow, she must have the patience of a saint to deal with those spawns from below.”

Alma couldn’t give a short laugh at the description.

“But the second thing was, ‘She must be very kind,’ and from that moment on, whether I knew it or not, I always had an eye on her. She could have been just passing me by going to the bakery to grab a pastry, but I can’t help but watch her. When I finally got the nerve to talk to her it was like the blinds had been fully unveiled and it was wonderful. I knew she was patient and kind, but I didn’t know she could be so stubborn, so intuitive, mischievous, and daring. I didn’t know she could play so many instruments until I saw her go from one to the other in such a fluent manner, I didn’t know she knows so much about infrastructure until she was keeping up with me on construction, I didn’t know how much I love the way her eyes sparkle in pure delight as she talks about Antonio new scarf or Bruno new ruana, I didn’t know she had only one cute dimple on her cheek until she was laughing over a joke I made,” he let a gentle smile envelop his face the longer he spoke about her.

“It seems that you have learned quite a bit,” Alma hummed.

“There are still so many things that I don’t know about her and I want to know them all, whether it be big or small, I just want to be with her,” Diego finished and looked up to the stars as if Alma couldn’t see him.

“You truly care for her, don’t you,” she gingerly smiled:

“With my whole heart,” he admitted.

“Good, keep it that way, after all, you never know when it’s too late,” she patted his shoulder and went to stand up.

“Let me help-” he quickly stood up, but got a raised hand instead.

“I may be an old lady, but my bones haven’t withered just yet. You’ll learn that soon enough with our family.”

“You're not o-wait what?” He backtracked as he saw her retreating back to the home.

“You’ll learn soon enough,” she cheerily said and once more a little softly to the Casita, “I believe we should prepare for another member for our family.”

The chimes jingle in agreement.

Diego just stared as he watched the Matriarch walk away as the implications washed over him.

5. (+1) Mirabel

“You okay?” He was startled out of his thoughts by a sweet voice and met with brown eyes that resembled an everlasting hearth.

He felt himself warm up once more in her concern and smiled. “Yeah I’m fine, just thinking about some stuff and looking at the stars,” he pointed up as he realized now that he was sitting down on the bench.

“Yeah, they really are,” she nodded as sat beside him. “How did you like the family? Wasn't too crazy for you? Hope they didn’t scare you off.”

“You know surprisingly, it’s Bruno and Antonio that scares me the most,” he couldn’t help but think back to those two instances.

“Those two,” she held back a grin, “they’re literally the least scary. They’re sweet as a bowlful of sugar and as soft as a marshmallow.”

“Say that to the Capybara and glowing green eyes,” he muttered but brushed it off. “But other than that your family is just the right amount of crazy, just like you,” he nudged her shoulder.

“Are you calling me crazy?” She playfully narrowed her eyes.

“Maybeee.”

She snorted, “well if I’m crazy then you're insane for putting up with me.”

“Well that is a risk I'm willing to take,” the teen put a fist to his chest as if he was taking on a dire responsibility.

Mirabel rolled her eyes with a smile as a thought occurred to her. “So what were you and Abuela talking about anyways?

“Oh nothing much, but I think I got your Abuela approval.”

“Approval? For what?” Mirabel curiously asked.

“Oh nothing nothing really,” he nervously chuckled. He didn’t know if he was quite ready to admit that yet.

“Come on, tell me~” she singsong as she moved closer to him. “You can trust me.”

“I know I can, but I don’t know if I should say it now,” he muttered.

“Now I’m really curious,” she sighed and scooted away a little. “But if you can’t say it then don’t, just know I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

“I know you are, it’s why I fell in love with you in the first place,” he chuckled, but sucked in a sharp breath as he realized what he just said.

“What?” Mirabel's eyes widened at the implications as she wasn’t the only one as inside the house a certain Madrigal spat out her water in pure disbelief and ignored the concerned and disgusted questions thrown at her, Dolores was purely focused on this moment alone.

“Of all things to say,” Diego hissed to himself. “My own mouth betrayed me.”

“Diego?”

He could hear himself wince at Mirabel's cautious tone. “Yesss?” He asked as if he didn’t blurt out a full fledged confession.

“Did-did you say you love me,” her eyes tried to find his own, but Diego was still looking straight up at the sky.

“…maybe,” he cringed at his squeaky voice as he kept his eyes to the stars. Maybe if he was lucky enough, some aliens would see him and take him away from this disaster.

“So it wasn’t a slip of a tongue,” she hopefully asked as she slowly scooted closer to him.

“And by chance, if I said it wasn’t?”

“Then I would have said I liked you too.”

“Wait what?!” He snapped his head down and his face turned scarlet as he realized just how close both of them were. “R-really?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded with a slight grin as she rubbed the back of her neck. “I have for a couple of months.”

“For almost two years,” he blurted out, unable to believe this was happening.

“Really?” Her eyes widen, “Why?!”

“Are you joking? Have you seen yourself?! You are the kindest, loving, stubbornest person I know and you keep your head up high no matter what comes your way!” Diego began to passionately say, as he continued with fire in his eyes. “I have seen you help even the most irritable of people, give a hand to anyone no matter how difficult it may be, seen you endure words others may say about you, and never falter. You can make others change whether you realize it or not, hell I once got into a fight over what some jackass said about you a few weeks back, and yet the other week I saw him lash out against someone else who tried to insult you. Why the change of heart? He said it was because he realized that there was more to you!”

“Are you talking about Ricardo?” She remembered sitting down with a larger fellow after he looked like he was going through a rough time. “All I did was talk to him.”

“Exactly! All you had to do was talk to him and change his view because of just your words! And you say that as if it’s no big deal!”

“Because it isn’t,” she tried to downplay it, but Diego wasn’t having any of that.

“No, it's incredible! That’s incredible! You're incredible! A lot of people look up to your family for their gifts and how it can them, but I look up to you because I see you do so much as just a regular person, and you’re so fucking amazing!”

“You are too!” Mirabel blurted out as she began to ramble. “You're one of the few people who don’t try to use me to get to know my family on the first introduction nor did you ever look down on me! I never had to work my ass off to impress you, because for some reason you still stood by me!”

“I actually first met you when you dropped your basket of sewing equipment,” he had to admit.

“You saw me be clumsy and decided I was still impressive,” she was thrown for a loop as he nodded his head. “And you say I’m kind, you said you love me even when you first saw me when I trip over my own two feet! You are kind and dependable! I’ve seen you with those kids! You may call them little beasts, but I have yet to see you refuse them when they really need help!”

“Have you met them,” Diego chuckled as he moved closer.

“I have! And you're also so patient! Whenever I go on my rants, you have never once tried to interrupt me or stop me! You let me go on and on and you actually listen, you are so kind for listening. I know I can be annoying, especially when it comes to my rants.”

“Have you seen the way your eyes light up when you talk about it? It’s so fucking beautiful,” at the back of his head he wondered when their hands clasped together.

“Have you met yourself when you dance! Your smile is gorgeous when you lose yourself in the music!”

Diego opened his mouth to say another, but stopped when he realized just how close they were to each other. Mirabel also realized this too as her eyes slightly widened, but neither side moved an inch.

“Can,” he inaudible gulped as his eyes locked onto hers, “can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” she softly said then in the next moment their lips touched the other.

It was soft, clumsy as two awkward teens were, but it was still beautiful.

Then they parted, but never separated as both of them opened their eyes when they realized it was closed and as if a conductor was conducting them, gently bumped their foreheads together.

“I love you,” Diego whispered.

“I love you too,” Mirabel said back.

Diego couldn’t stop his smile as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, but Mirabel wasn’t complaining as she too held on just as tight.

Nothing could ruin this moment.

“Yes!” Or so they thought as the two of them were startled as they heard a scream.

“What the-” Diego gripped a bit tighter on Mirabel on reflex as he tried to figure out where the danger was.

“Who was-that was Dolores,” Mirabel's eyes twitched when she realized that her cousin heard everything.

“…you think she can keep a secret a little while longer,” he cautiously asked once he realized what happened.

“WHAT?!” Came the screams of many family members and they soon heard a storm of footsteps rapidly approaching.

“Not a chance,” she deadpans, “I hope you got to know the home of the Family Madrigal, because you are now a part of the Madrigal.”

“Well I heard it was fantastical and magical,” he wrapped an arm around her as they got ready for the onslaught.

“Whoever said that was a big fat liar,” she grinned as she braced for impact as the sound of a stampede got closer.

“I don’t know, I heard they were pretty honest, kind, and very cute and I’m always a sucker for cute faces,” Diego said as he gave her a peck on the cheek.

“I guess it won’t be so bad,” Mirabel giggle as she relaxed into his hold.

“MIRABEL!”

“DIEGO!”

“I take it back, this is going to be terrible,” Mirabel had to hold back a groan as she saw her family’s eager faces coming towards them. She then gave a shocked Diego a resigned smile at his dumbfounded face. “Welcome to the Family Madrigal, you can never escape.”

It was a beat before Diego threw his head back and laughed heartily with his entire being. As the questions streamed in with the ruffles of head and eager hugs he had to admit.

He’s proud to be a part of the Family Madrigal.

[italianartsociety]

On the Tercentenary of the Death of Pierre Le Gros

By Gerhard Bissell

Pierre Le Gros died 300 years ago on 3 May 1719 in Rome where he had been a pre-eminent sculptor. No blockbuster exhibition will mark this event because he is now all but forgotten outside specialist circles, a fate he shares with nearly all artists of the late baroque period. The most virtuoso marble worker of his time, he excelled in convincing the eye to see the depicted materials rather than stone. His surfaces are so nuanced they nearly appear as different colours. And yet, he achieved that very rare feat of integrating these fine details into monumental sculptures without appearing grotesque.

Born in Paris in 1666 as the son of the eponymous sculptor serving Louis XIV, Le Gros won a Rome scholarship and went there in 1690. He duly studied at the French Academy until the occasion arose in 1695 to be part of the greatest artistic enterprise of the day: the monumental altarpiece of St. Ignatius in the Gesù, where Le Gros was given the over life-size group on the right hand side.

Recognising his extraordinary talent and speed, the Jesuits used him in the run-up to the Holy Year 1700 for the silver statue of St. Ignatiusas the altar’s centrepiece, and for the gigantic marble relief of St. Aloysius Gonzaga in Gloryfor the church of Sant’Ignazio – all delivered in time for the holy celebrations.

More Jesuit commissions soon followed like the statue of St. Francis Xavier (1702), a marvel of delicate marble work, and the vividly coloured St. Stanislas Kostka on his Death Bed(1702-03) whose aura still strikes even today’s sceptic visitors with pious awe; Kostkais nowadays Le Gros’ best known work if not his most typical.

So there you have it, Pierre Le Gros, the sculptor of the Jesuits. And that’s what he had been reduced to by much of art history well into the 20thcentury. But you’d be wrong.

There’s also Pierre Le Gros, the sculptor of the Dominicans. The order’s general, père Cloche, had big ambitions to boost the status of the Blackfriars, and found the sculptor to help him deliver. This started in 1697 with an upgrade for the tomb of the soon-to-be-saint Pope Pius V featuring an exquisitly modelled sarcophagus lid of gilded bronze echoing the recumbent holy body in bas-relief. Quickly followed a tomb and some years later a statue for Cloche’s friend Cardinal Casanate.

The new century also brought a new pope. Clement XI – very keen on art but short of cash – astutely offered the religious orders to honour their founders with a statue in St. Peter’s. Cloche immediately picked up on it and had the monumental St. Dominiccarved by Le Gros from 1702-06. Since nobody else saw the need for urgency, this was the only founder statue in St. Peter’s for decades until eventually the floodgates opened.

Le Gros was not content with just being successful, he wanted to be theleading sculptor in Rome, and he had high hopes for this pontiff to whom he dedicated his reception piece for the Accademia di San Luca in 1702.

The pope’s project to fill Borromini’s huge empty niches in S. Giovanni in Laterano with statues of the apostles was his chance. Around 1703, Le Gros submitted an exquisitely crafted terracotta model for St. Thomas reminiscent of Bernini’s Longinusin an exuberant baroque style – knowing full well that stylistic unity was paramount and that all sculptors were held to follow classicising models by Carlo Maratti, the pope’s favourite artist. This was a clear attempt to establish the Le Gros style as official guideline for all to follow, but late baroque classicism prevailed. He had to back down and finished his figur by 1711 in a fundamentally different, much more rigid fashion.

It was instead Camillo Rusconi, an admirer of Maratti’s style, who emerged a rising star from the Lateran campaign and was showered with papal praise while Le Gros was slowly sidelined.

Cardinal de Bouillon commissioned a dynastic tomb for the La Tour d’Auvergne family which arrived at Cluny abbey in France in 1709 but had the misfortune of not even being unpacked for nearly a century because Bouillon was by then declared an enemy of the state for grossly disobeying Louis XIV (the sculptures are today displayed in the Hôtel-Dieu in Cluny).

Le Gros’ S. Filippo Neri in Gloria, who appears as a dematerialised silhouette against the golden glow of the window behind, resulted from the cooperation with his close friend Filippo Juvarra on the architectural-sculptural ensemble of the Cappella Antamori in S. Girolamo della Carità (1708-10).

His last important work was the highly theatrical Tomb ofPope Gregory XV and Cardinal Ludovico Ludovisi(c. 1709-14) in Sant’Ignazio.

The remainder of Le Gros’ life is the tragic story of a downfall furthering a premature death. In 1713 he managed to alienate the Jesuits by being annoyingly stubborn, and in 1714 he found himself at death's door, suffering from gall stones. The need for an operation prompted him to travel to Paris in 1715, lodging with his faithful friend, the banker and great patron of the arts Pierre Crozat. While he might have considered to settle back in his native city, he was rebuffed by the French academy and decided instead to return to Rome in 1716 where he promptly had a run-in with the local Accademia di San Luca.

Siding with protestors against new statutes which subjected non-academicians to unjust fee payments, Le Gros was unceremoniously expelled, and his professional career in Rome thereby de facto finished. His only new commission thereafter was for two statues for Turin, without doubt due to the intervention of Juvarra who was by then architect to the Duke of Savoy.  

Filled with bitterness, Le Gros died from pneumonia in 1719. He was posthumously rehabilitated and reinstated as a member of the Accademia di San Luca under the directorship of the Giuseppe Chiari in 1725.

Religion Overthrowing Heresy, 1695-99, Rome, Il Gesù, Altar of S. Ignatius

St. Aloysius Gonzaga in Glory, 1697-99, Rome, Sant’Ignazio

St. Stanislas Kostka on his Death Bed, 1702-03, Rome, Jesuit Novitiate at S. Andrea al Quirinale

The Arts Paying Homage to Pope Clement XI, 1702, Rome, Accademia di San Luca

St. Dominic, 1702-06, Rome, St. Peter’s

Apostle Thomas, Terracotta model, 1703, Los Angeles, LACMA

Further reading:

Gerhard Bissell, “Pierre Le Gros 1666-1719”, Reading (Si Vede) 1997.

Id., “A ‘Dialogue’ between Sculptor and Architect: the Statue of S. Filippo Neri in the Cappella Antamori”, in: Stuart Currie, Peta Motture (ed.), “The Sculpted Object 1400-1700”, Aldershot 1997, 221-237.

Robert Enggass, “Early Eighteenth-Century Sculpture in Rome”, University Park and London (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1976.

Pascal Julien, “Pierre Legros, sculpteur romain”, in: Gazette des Beaux-Arts 135:2000(1574), pp. 189-214.

François Souchal, “French Sculptors of the 17th and 18th Centuries. The Reign of Louis XIV”, vol. II, Oxford (Cassirer) 1981, vol. IV, London (Faber) 1993.

[latristereina]

On this day in history: death of Bona Sforza, Queen Consort of Poland and Grand Duchess of Lithuania, and Duchess of Bari and Rossano in her own right

Already, before her husband’s passing, Bona must have felt unsafe and lonely. In the last months of his life, the weak and ill Sigismund the Old could not protect his wife anymore. Her Polish subjects hated her, and her once beloved and devoted son, Sigismund Augustus, whose policies she did not approve of, rejected her completely. In June 1547, a year before the old king’s death, queen Bona’s adversaries started gossiping maliciously about how she planned on leaving the country, and was in the middle of the process of exporting the fortune, that she had amassed during her reign thanks to her hard work. Bona must have been aware that her immense wealth aroused jealously and was most likely afraid that after the king’s death, she would be stripped of it. 

Cracow, where the royal family resided, was not a safe place at the time, and after Sigismund the Old’s passing on April 1st 1548, she decided to retreat to Mazowsze, along with her fortune. In the meantime, the rumors about Bona’s plans to go back to Italy did not cease. It seems, however, Bona made such decision only at the turn of 1552/1553, so after Barbara Radziwiłł’s death (1551), and after her attempts to reconcile with her son failed. In January 1552, during her meeting with Sigismund Augustus in Radom, she officially touched upon this matter for the first time, but the new king only replied coldly that he would yet have to present her case at the Sejm. At the same time, he started keeping a weather eye on his mother and her actions, particularly those concerning Italy and her contacts with Charles V. 

As we can deduce from letters that he wrote to his friend Radziwiłł, he was particularly anxious about the ambassadors whom Bona sent with secret missions and the fact his mother exported money and valuables, which he would gladly intercept in the process, but was afraid that during the commotion, they could end up in the Habsburgs’s hands. He was also worried Bona would disinherit him and leave her Italian lands to someone else. Indeed, in the 1550’s Bona’s actions in the diplomatic sphere were active, and a few times between 1550 and 1555, she sent her trusted courtier, Gian Lorenzo Pappacoda, with diplomatic missions to Charles V and Philip II of Spain. Being out of the picture of Polish influences, ambitious and still not that old, Bona was looking for another sphere of activity. According to some scholars she wanted to become a viceroy of Naples with sweeping powers, and that’s why in 1553 she loaned Charles V 150.000 ducats, counting on his support. The loan was to be paid back within six years.

Bona took the ultimate decision about her retreat to Italy in 1555. Officially it was all for the sake of her health, for she said she had to undergo an anti-rheumatic therapy at the Abano springs, nearby Padua. The senators, of course, did not approve of Bona’s plans, since she would take her immense riches and property away, and also because, according to them, ‘this scandal would shroud Poland in infamy.’ 

To avert Bona’s departure, the senators sent special ambassadors to her at the beginning of 1555, in order to dissuade her from this idea. But the Dowager Queen was stubborn. Moreover, she was well aware they wanted to retain her only out of greed, which only reassured her that she should leave. At the last moment Sigismund Augustus made a public announcement that he would punish everyone who would help his mother to leave Poland, which made Bona’s departure impossible in practice. Bona was outraged and said she was being held in captivity by her own son, who owed his life, and every good that he had ever had, to her. Eventually, the king had to submit because they spoke of the whole case all over Europe. Bona had to sign a document in which she gave up all her property that she had on Polish territory. She was allowed to take movable property, such as money and jewels, which, incidentally, she had a lot. According to one rumor, all her riches were bundled up in 24 wagons. A trip throughout Europe with such baggage was not safe, so the new rumors quickly spread that 150 plunderers planned on setting upon Bona. 

The Queen Dowager left on February 1st 1556. Her younger daughters, Anne and Catherine bid her farewell in Warsaw, both crying, and the eldest one, Isabella, escorted Bona beyond the walls of the city. Sigismund Agustus was not present during the farewell.

The route led through the Alps, where a special trail had been prepared for Bona’s wagons. Sigismund Augustus had appointed a small retinue that accompanied Bona as far as Venice. She travelled through Vienna where she was magnificently received by Ferdinand I, with whom she dialogued about Hungarian matters. She then reached Padua on March 27th 1556, where she had been awaited by the cardinals, Otto Truchsess and Hipolit d'Este. And on April 26th, she was already in Venice. From Venice, she went to Bari, travelling on board of a Signori’s ship, escorted by six galleys. She arrived in Bari on May 13th, being enthusiastically welcomed by her subjects.

Bona’s departure from Poland and her return to Italy was an international sensation. The rumors about the riches that she had brought with herself fueled the interest even more. Philip II sent two of his diplomats, Persico Brocardo and Marcantonio Colonna, to Bari, who were to investigate if, given the bad relations between Bona and her son, the Queen Dowager would not be willing to transmit her Italian apanages to the Spanish Crown. Bona did not agree, but she was reckless enough as to lend Philip II 430.000 ducats at 10% annual interest, when Naples was threatened by the French. The loan was guaranteed by custom duties collected in Foggia, but it would later turn out that it was to never be paid back.

During her stay in Italy, Bona never broke off her ties with Poland. Shortly before her departure, she had attended to her duties at Mazowsze diligently, which indicates she might have wanted to come back to Poland one day.

Sigismund Augustus, being anxious that she would leave her Italian lands to the Spanish Crown, got in touch with her and proposed to her to come back, promising he would give her all the property on Polish territory that once had been taken away from her. In March 1557 Bona sent the Bishop of Bitonto, Cornelio Musso, to Philip II of Spain, who had been instructed to give the negative response to the suggestions about leaving Bari and Rossano to the Spanish Crown. At the same time, she began preparing her trip to Venice, and from there, to Poland, as she herself had told her maid, Marina d'Arcamone, who certainly passed the information over to Pappacoda. It seems Bona did not feel safe in Bari anymore. The hassle with the Spanish officials bothered her, and she most likely realized she was being surrounded by Philip II’s undercover agents.

Further sequences of events resemble a crime novel. We know about them thanks to materials that had been stored at the archive in Venice; letters, relations, documents, such as the copy of Bona’s last will and testament, etc.

As can be deduced from Bona’s letters to cardinal Jacobo Puteo, written in October 1557, the 63 year old Queen Dowager did not complain about her health, she was at her sharpest, and like always was interested in politics and current events. On November 8th, all of a sudden, she succumbed to a mysterious illness. In spite of the care of six physicians, her state deteriorated dramatically. According to an eye witness, Cesare Farina, who at the time was at the castle in Bari, poison had been twice given to Bona, at the behest of her trusted secretary, Gian Lorenzo Pappacoda, who, it turned out, was an agent of Philip II of Spain and his uncle, Ferdinand I. 

Initially, the poison was served by physician, Gio Antonio di Matera, and the second time it was given by Bona’s cook, Paolo Matrillo. On November 17th Pappacoda brought a notary, Marco Vincenzo de Baldis, to Bona, who was unconscious and wasted by fever, delirious, and laying on her back in a large bed. Her maid Marina sat at the bedhead and imperceptibly slipped her hand under the pillow, and after each bequest that was read out, she raised Bona’s head to make it look as if the Queen was nodding in an act of approval.

According to this last will and testament, Sigismund Augustus was the general beneficiary, but only in theory, given the numerous and generous bequests, which in practice left him with nothing, except some jewels and silver. Philip II got Bari, Rossano, and domains of Ostuni, Grottaglie, and Montesarchio. Her eldest daughter, Isabella, was to receive 10.000 ducats annually from custom duties in Foggia, and the rest of her daughters 50.000 ducats to be paid once. Pappacoda made a fortune, having gotten the domains of Noia and Triggiano, as well as annual income from Rutigliano, additionally he got 13.000 ducats, horses from Bona’s fine stable, and her silver dinnerware. Courtier Camillo Brancaccio received administration of Rutigliano’s domains, and Marina got the domain of Palo – everything in order to ensure their silence about the whole case. Many other people and institutions received small legacies. The Archbishop of Bari was to get 10.000 ducats, the Neapolitan church Santa Maria del Carmine received 4.000 ducats, that was guaranteed by custom duties in Foggia, the Universty of Naples got 5.000 ducats (out of 10.000 that had been once lent them by Bona), 5.000 ducats were to be spent on dowries for unmarried maidens from Bari, and other small monetary legacies were granted to Bona’s Italian courtiers, such as Ferdinand de Opulo, Francesco Giacomo Calco, and to some of her ladies-in-waiting. Gian Lorenzo Pappacoda, his brother Francesco Pappacoda, Camillo Brancaccio, and Francesco Giacomo Calco were to be the executors of the last will. 

The notary sealed the document and handed it over to Pappacoda, who approached the Queen’s bed, holding the document in the air while Marina plunged the quill into the inkpot. She then put it in between Bona’s fingers and signed the will with the Queen’s hand, in the presence of eight witnesses.

The next day, on November 18th, Bona felt a bit better and summoned the secretary of the castle registrar’s office, Scipione Catapani, with whom she recreated the sequence of the events from previous day. According to Catapani, the Queen was very outraged at Pappacoda’s malpractices and decided to draw up a new last will and testament, revoking the previous one.

Having sent almost all her court to the church, where they were supposed to pray for her health, she kept by her side only her old and loyal courtiers: Hannibal Carmignano, Lucrezia Critopolis and Niccolò de Foscis. They were to act as witnesses when the new testament was being written down by Catapani, who had the eligibility of a papal notary.

In the new last will and testament Bona revoked the bequest for Philip II and left all her lands and fortune to Sigismund Augustus. In case of his childless death, her daughter Isabella and Isabella’s son were to be the heirs, and only after their childless passing, everything would pass on to Bona’s younger daughters, Sophia, Anne, and Catherine respectively, and their progeny. Her daughters also received 50.000 ducats out of the sum of 430.000 that she had lent Philip II. Some courtiers got small bequests too, as well as the University of Bari and the poor.

Even Pappacoda received 13.000 ducats (that the Queen had lent him before) and domain of Capurso, which certainly alleviated his disappointment. One of Bona’s relatives, Maria d'Aragona, the marchioness of Vasto, got the most beautiful pearl from the Queen’s collection, and a carriage with exquisite horses.

Bona wanted to be buried at Santa Maria del Carmine in Naples, where Sigismund Augustus was supposed to fund a special chapel under the invocation of saint Stanislaus, the patron of Poland. It was Bona’s way to demonstrate her ties with her second homeland. The Queen voted 300 ducats annually, from custom duties collected in Bari, for the foundation of the said chapel. This last will and testament was signed by Bona in full possession of her senses, on which the three witnesses, as well as Catapani, put their signatures besides hers. Shortly after that, Bona’s condition worsened, like her biographer, Maria Bogucka, ironically says: ‘the one who in Poland had been so often accused of using poison to destroy her enemies, died poisoned herself, on November 19th 1557, at 4am.’

Immediately after the Queen’s death, Pappacoda proceeded to the execution of Bona’s last will, of course, using the one that he had himself written. According to Bogucka, there is no doubt he acted at the behest of the Habsburgs and had their full support.

Catapani, being afraid of the revenge, defected from Bari. It was a very prudent move, given that those who had been mixed up in the case of the testament and Bona’s illness, started dying one after another. All of a sudden, the two poisoners, Gio Antonio di Matera and Paolo Matrillo passed away, followed shortly afterwards by Bona’s pageboy, Serafino, who had watched over the Queen, the majordomo John, courtier Giovanni Barbiero, and the young scribe, Niccolò Mario Romanello, who had been writting down the testament dictated by Pappacoda. The people of Bari were horrified, being perfectly aware of what had happened.

 By January of 1558, and in spite of the protests of Sigismund Augustus’s agent, the solicitor of Philip II of Spain took possession of all Bona’s property that could be found in the castle, most of which had already been stolen. The individuality of Bari and Rossano began to be erased. The domains of Ostuni and Gorttaglie were sold. Montesarchio was granted to Barzini di Toledo. And Pappacoda obained the confirmation of his rights to Capurso, Noia, and Triggiano, as well as the title of the marquis.

The news about Bona’s death reached her children at the turn of 1557 and 1558. Her daughters were affected by it, and Sophia fell ill. Sigmund Augustus, however, received the news with indifference. Only the information about the existence of other, authentic testament of his mother, moved him. He found out about it over a year after Bona’s death, in June 1559. The information was sent by a merchant from Bari, Cesare Curto, who had searched out the notary, Scipione Catapani, who was in the possession of the original document. However, before Sigismund Augustus’s agents managed to obtain the testament, Catapani, having been terrorized or bribed by Philip II’s people, suddenly had claimed the document had been forged on the orders of Sigismund Augustus. He died shortly afterwards, in mysterious circumstances, just like other people who had anything to do with the affair. The inhabitants of Bari were of opinion Catapani had fallen victim to Pappacoda’s poison.

Hence, Sigismund Augustus did not have proper documents that would help him to retrieve the legacy of his mother, although, at first, he was optimistic. A special Polish outpost was created in Naples that was to take care of everything. George from Tyczyn was one of the most active agents of the Polish king. He asked the pope for the excommunication of those who usurped Sigismund Augustus’s rights, which bothered Pappacoda. George from Tyczyn reported Pappacoda’s life was miserable and he lived in constant fear. In 1569 Pappacoda was indeed arrested and thrown into prison in Naples, being accused of numerous crimes that he had committed already after Bona’s death. Even though his imprisonment was not directly tied to the Polish case, the Polish agents thought they could use it to their advantage, additionally accusing him of having stolen Bona’s money and goods.

 In his letter from May 15th 1559, George from Tyczyn reported that Pappacoda had been crying in jail, claiming he was lost. The accusation of usurping the rights of Sigismund Augustus was introduced to the viceroy of Naples, but the trial dragged on and the Polish team was not able to manage the loopholes. George from Tyczyn complained the legal powers did not arrive on time and he did not get proper documents, such as the list of Bona’s property, jewels, and money, which were indispensable for the trial.

George also clashed with a lawyer, who had been sent to him from Mazowsze, and he often did not get replies to his letters sent to Poland. Hence, the lack of competency, or the negligence on the Polish side, hampered the process. Additionally, Pappacoda had his protectors and in June 1570 he was declared not guilty of the charges and released from prison. In January 1571 the Polish agents accused Pappacoda of heresy, basing their claim on the fact Pappacoda had stolen Bona’s fotrune in spite of the threat of the excommunication, which had been solicited by George from Tyczyn. They also added numerous other proofs of Pappacoda’s alleged heresy; it was said he once had thrown a lance at the image of the crucified Jesus Christ. Witnesses from Poland were brought and interrogated. But again, Pappacoda squirreled out of everything and was released from prison. He died five years later on July 13, 1576, leaving more than 40.000 ducats of debt.

But Pappacoda was only a pawn in the Habsburgs’s hands. Philip II of Spain was Sigismund Augustus’s true enemy. In 1562 negotiations between Poland and Spain took place, by the agency of Ferdinand I, Holy Roman Emperor. Some of Bona’s silver and jewels were handed back to Sigismund Augustus, as well as having his rights confirmed to the 430.000 ducats that Bona had lent Philip II. But the duchies of Bari and Rossano turned out to be out of reach. Although, at times, it seemed like there was some light of hope. 

On January 14th,1570, George from Tyczyn reported that according to Marcantonio Colonna, Philip II was willing to hand back Bari to Sigismund Augustus, with the exception of the Bari’s castle, but two months later, those turned out to be false hopes. Not only were Bari and Rossano out of reach, but also the sum of 430.000 ducats, which had gained the name of ‘The Neapolitan Sums.’ Only part of the interest was paid a few times. After Sigismund Augustus’s death, the whole case fell to his sister, Queen Anne of Poland, and her husband, Stephen Báthory (who was the real ruler in this relationship, delegating to his wife the role of a figurehead), but given that Stephen did not pay much attention to it, the problem was not resolved. Anne’s successors, the Vasas and their heirs, inherited the claim to Bona’s lands, but the trial had dragged on for 250 years and nothing came of it.

Bona was eventually buried at The Pontifical Basilica di San Nicola in Bari.

Sources:

Maria Bogucka, “Bona Sforza” pp. 236-247

Kamil Janicki, “Damy złotego wieku”, p. 5

[designerevil-blog]

Post 8 facts about your character and tag 8 people

tagged by: @pupperevil

1. Evie’s unsure of her full name. She knows her last name is Grimhilde and that her nickname is Evie, but she doesn’t know if Evie is short for anything.

2. Her birthday is on April 10th. 

3. Speaking of birthdays, ever since she was six, Evie hasn’t celebrated it. Mainly out of fear, considering what happened when she last threw a party.

4. She has a huge fear of being alone. This stemmed from her time spent alone in the castle. She can’t stand being alone and if left for extended periods of time without warning, she begins to panic.

5. She becomes a famous designer in Auradon. Holding fashion shows and releasing new lines, she is well respected in the fashion industry despite her background.

6. On top of Othello being brought from the Isle to Auradon, Evie adopts another pet bird, Camillo. In total, she has two pet birds and actively feeds a stray cat that strolls around the campus of Auradon Prep.

7. While she escapes Evil Queen’s toxic mindset when it comes to her looks, Evie still has them implanted in her mind. She’s quite underweight--controlling it, almost. Not dangerously underweight, but lighter than most. She also takes great care when it comes to her makeup.

8. Evie’s great with children. She babysits at times and earns the respect of parents and most of the children seem to love her. She babysits students’ younger siblings and the likes if she needs a little extra income.

tagging: you see this you’re tagged because i’m too much of a wreck to tag eight people

[memoirsofagenie]

Treading in Hasekura’s Footsteps: AICR’s “Black-Tie” Annual Circolo della Caccia Dinner

by: Genie

 “The world listens more to witnesses than it does the masters, yet if it listens more to the masters, it is because they are, above all, witnesses.���

-- Pope Paul V

      Among the recurrent, “Black-Tie” happenings at the prestigious Circolo della Caccia, are the yearly “Serata del Cinghiale” (Boar Soirée) at the end of February, the Christmas  Dinner, and the introduction of  new members, with a speech given by the youngest member at the end of the evening.  However, for almost a decade now, the American International Club of Rome (AICR) members have been able to also partake in this charming rituality of olden flair thanks to the kind dinner invitation of M.E., both an AICR Board Member and a Circolo della Caccia member, naturally!

     During this magical January evening – and the upcoming 2013 edition will be very special, for it falls on AICR’s 60th Anniversary– guests are greeted by the heraldic eagles and  dragons as they walk through the imposing colonnade and past the romantic nymphaeum of Palazzo Borghese, only to step into one of Rome’s oldest –if not, the oldest- elevators and climb to the “piano nobile,” where this intertwined, utterly spellbinding Chinese box catapults them even further back in time. Amidst the black-and-white regal portrait sequence of the illustrious guests that have entered the Circolo at some point in their lives, the spectacular frescoes and the intricate backdrop of gold-leaf covered stuccoes of the dining hall, the elegance of the maitre d’ and of the waiters in traditional livery are merely the last details that hark back to princely times, heightening the pervading nocturnal, dreamy state and momentarily removing people from reality.

     Matter-of-factly, it is known that Rome is a city where history is embedded within history. The Circolo della Caccia is no exception to this rule, thus making it almost impossible for the public curiosities not to be titillated. History also helps to predict the future, albeit in this specific case, knowing the history can surely, if anything, make the dinner experience more enjoyable altogether. For this reason, it was imperative to embark on a virtual time-machine to discover some interesting, behind-the-scenes details of one of the Eternal City’s (many) best-kept secrets.

     The Circolo della Caccia (literally, “Hunting Club”), is undoubtedly one of the oldest, most exclusive clubs of Rome. Founded in 1869 on an initiative of Prince Francesco Borghese, its original denomination used to be Circolo di San Carlo, due to its first, modest location. Upon inauguration, it was located in front of the San Carlo church, at the crossroads between Via del Corso and Via delle Carrozze. It then moved to Palazzo Verospi, on the other side of Via del Corso, and changed its name to Circolo della Caccia, in view of the large presence of members of the Roman Society for fox hunting, a “sport” introduced by Lord George Stanhope, Count of Chesterfield and practiced by the aristocracy in the Roman countryside, concurrent to the birth of the Circolo itself. On this note, a magnificent canvas originally donated to King Umberto II, probably the most representative one currently displayed at the Circolo, serves as testimony of this now forbidden pastime, which is nonetheless still simulated in the outskirts of town.

     Going back to the chronological overview of the Circolo, before reaching its current site, it relocated two more times: first, to the now-demolished Palazzo Bonaccorsi, lastly to Palazzo Marignoli. Finally, on August 31, 1922, it moved to its definitive location, which coincided with the former rooms of Paolina Borghese (Napoleon’s sister) at the eponymous palace in the old ‘rione’ (neighborhood) Campo Marzio: Palazzo Borghese, otherwise known as the “Cembalo” (Harpsichord), due to its exterior shape reminiscent of the Baroque instrument.  

     Having unveiled this greatness, a question lurks beneath the collective minds: How does one join the Circolo della Caccia? The main pre-requisite for membership is to belong to nobility. An important founding member was writer Gabriele D’Annunzio, who had also been admitted on the basis of his Gold Medal to Military Valor. An aspiring member should also be referred by three other members and has to undergo the traditional practice of the white balls vs. the black balls. The former indicate a positive vote, whereas the latter indicate a negative vote. Each negative vote annuls five positive votes. Hence, it comes as no surprise to learn that its honorary members include personalities ranging from King Juan Carlos of Spain, Prince Charles of Wales and his father, the Duke of Edinburgh, all the way to King Albert II of Belgium.  By the same token, it is equally normal to note that the Club has issued quite a few exemplary rejections, Paul Getty being a case in point. To this day membership is almost entirely male. The library, the game room and the reading room are off-limits to women, who are nevertheless admitted– escorted– to the guest quarters.

      Given these premises, and realizing the privilege it is to cross the threshold of the Circolo for even just a few hours, this article is only brought to completion by asking some questions to Mr. E., without whom the idea of writing it might not have materialized in the first place:

Mr. E. when did you first join the Circolo della Caccia? I joined the Circolo della Caccia during my freshman year at Harvard. The year was 1978. My grandfather was the former President of the Circolo as well as my godfather. 

Would you care to share an anecdote (some anecdotes) you are most fond of concerning the Circolo della Caccia? I have many fond moments at the Circolo. The fondest one however was to hear my son give his acceptance speech as a new Circolo della Caccia member two years ago! 

What prompted you -rather, gave you the idea- of organizing a Circolo della Caccia dinner for AICR members? Quite a few years ago, I thought it would be a fun idea to celebrate the holidays by having a black-tie dinner and having as guest our own Honorary President and/or VPs. If I recall initially, we had just one Ambassador. After a while two came.

Do you have a favorite ‘edition’? If yes, could you describe why it is your favorite? Last year, for the first time in AICR history (and probably in Rome's history!), AICR was able to have ALL the US Ambassadors in Italy (many readers may not know this, but we have three). It was absolutely a smashing success! This type of event is what makes AICR so unique. It is not often that this can be pulled off. In today's society, when everyone is always in a rush and often does not have the time or patience to "get dressed up," I think the beautiful clothes worn by our guests (ladies are often in very elegant long dresses!) wonderfully blends in the rich historical surroundings of the Circolo. A lot of thanks go to our Manager who always "manages" to organize a perfect seating and ensure that the dinner goes smoothly. Also, thanks go to our President who always "wows" us with the wonderful bouquets that are on the table and that are given to our Very Important Guests of Honor. §§§ 

     In closing, another important episode haunts the Circolo’s saga. In the fall of 1615, the Japanese-Christian Ambassador Hasekura Tsunenaga entered Rome after an extenuating sea-odyssey that had begun two years earlier, by orders of Shogun Date Masamune. Masamune was the King of the Japanese city of Sendai, and Hasekura’s mission was to ask for Pope Paul V’s (Camillo Borghese) spiritual support, which would have helped the Shogun gain absolute power. The expedition made pit-stops in Acapulco and Madrid, crossing both the Pacific and the Atlantic Ocean, before reaching Rome with its surviving crew (less than half of what it was at the beginning of the journey).  Hasekura finally met with Pope Paul V “Borghese” at the Quirinale, and his emaciated expression –as a result of the hardships endured at sea-  has been immortalized on yet another beautiful painting at the Circolo della Caccia, where he is depicted wearing his distinctive regalia. Hasekura finished his multiple diplomatic encounters by the end of December, and headed back to Japan on January 7, 1616.

     Over four centuries after Hasekura’s Roman visit, AICR members get to walk “backwards” in his footsteps, for January, contrary to the Nipponic Ambassador’s agenda, is the ideal month to be in Rome, marking the time to “witness” Pope Paul V’s “Borghese”  legacy, lavishly bequeathed through the Circolo della Caccia. Hence, of all of AICR’s special events, the Circolo della Caccia Dinner is one appointment –THE appointment– that should definitely not be missed.

 Rome, 13 December 2012

[thelondonwhisperer]

Hotel Xenia launches Aperitivo Time

Now that Spring is finally in the air, out come the Spritz deals across London to bask in the glorious sun with a tipple and some friends.

There is so much to envy about the Italians and their love of Aperitivo Time, it's almost more important than dinner! And for Italian aficionados who love La Bella Vita, Hotel Xenia, located in the heart of Kensington and Chelsea, is creating the ritual of Aperitivo Time this summer, on their terrace - kicking off Wednesday 1st May, from 2pm-7pm every day. An Italian style-buffet and one cocktail is priced at £12.00, thereafter cocktails are priced at £7.50.

Focaccia with prosciutto, Salty Cheese Cake and Beef tartare

As one of Italy's most popular exports shows no sign of abating, Hotel Xenia's team of Italian bartenders will create cocktails, with one of the most popular - the Aperol Spritz, made with effortless skill and authenticity. Enjoy alfresco ambience and relax on the hotel'sterrace - one of Kensington's best-kept secrets! 

True to Italian tradition, drinks will be accompanied by complimentary appetising sharing boards -  prepared by chef, Andrea Angeletti, who oversees the hotel's Italian restaurant Evoluzione.   And to celebrate the 100th anniversary, when the Negroni was first created by Count Camillo Negroni, bartenders will be serving a twist on the classic using Fig and Walnut.

The sound of glasses clinking, friends catching up and the appetising delicious light bites, will have guests thinking they're sitting in Florence! 

http://www.hotelxenia.co.uk/

http://instagram.com/xenialondon

https://twitter.com/HotelXeniaLND

https://www.facebook.com/HotelXeniaLondon

[thinktosee]

The Bully Part 4 - David the Pacifist

It has been over a year. It remains hard to talk about David and what he stood for. I will try :

David said he was prepared to give his LIFE so other youth need not have to be forcibly conscripted into military service against their religious and spiritual beliefs. David was a Pacifist. This also means he was a Conscientious Objector.

A pacifist is the deepest form of our Humanity. We may think we have strong religious convictions and yet believe in war and violence, and justify our actions accordingly. This however, is not consistent with the teachings of Jesus, Buddha, Gandhi, Martin Luther King (MLK) and of course, Henry David Thoreau, the man who inspired Gandhi and MLK. David understood this better than most of us, including his father.

        David at Birth – Nov 24, 1997 

 A misinformed person told me recently there was no such thing as a conscientious objector in Singapore. Obviously, he did not quite know my Son, although we are related. David gave his life as a final act of CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE, two days before he was to report for military service. The State had rejected his diversity – his religious beliefs as a Pacifist and Conscientious Objector were totally ignored. So was his medical condition – he suffered from depression, which arose from his anxiety about being conscripted. David’s basic HUMAN RIGHTS were denied him. His DREAMS were shattered. Just before he left us, he tore up the portrait of New York City he had hung on the wall.* His dream was to be free to pursue Dramatic Writing in New York University and to live in the City he had come to love.

                            David in Central Park, NYC, summer of 2014 with Kimberly

 I repeat -  a Pacifist is the deepest form of our Humanity  – David, the Pacifist refused to compromise his convictions. He lived as he believed. As he Knew! His beliefs were simple and straight-forward, as any belief system should be. This is much, much more than I can say about myself. David was and is my Teacher.

By his final act, David hoped I would be spurred to action. By this final act, his and my destinies intertwined forever, like a Binary Star. He knew this. He said so in his final poem titled “LEGACY” which he addressed to me. He commanded that I should progress his legacy or work. I have been doing just that, although more like a poor student.

David was the victim of A Bully. Except this time, it was the State, and not someone in the school yard. State-sponsored bullying is the ultimate of all acts of bullying. It is legitimized through laws and common practices (War is the finale of all state-sponsored bullying). This means it is “acceptable.” Where the laws are unjust or discriminatory, a democratic system allows remedies and adjustments. It is when the system is not democratic and pluralistic that unjust laws become everlasting tools for oppression and control by a small group of people.

The State did not recognize the most fundamental of religious beliefs – Pacifism. David’s final act of Civil Disobedience should ennoble us to give due recognition to the diversity of the human condition and beliefs. It is not for the State to draw lines in our spiritual beliefs. This is discrimination by any measure. It is BULLYING.

Every 18 year old male-born is forcibly conscripted, by law in Singapore. That is to say, the youth is required to defend the country, and where necessary to die for it. How is it then the youth is not allowed a say in this? It is after all, his LIFE! He is not allowed to VOTE. He is judged by the State to be an adult for military service at 18 years, but then not old or mature enough to vote till he is 21?

The American War of Independence in the 18th Century erupted because of a similar act of bullying (or discrimination) by the British monarch. The American colonies coined the phrase “No taxes without representation.” They refused to pay taxes to the monarch if they did not have the right to vote or have a say in the government.

Military conscription is a major Tax on our youth. It is time to end the bullying (and trauma) and give our Youth the vote! This is long overdue – it’s been 50 everlasting years. The Idealism of our young citizens must be set free. Idealism, in all its flavour is to be welcomed…..and not feared by the privileged, yet always insecure few.

I leave you with 2 things :

1.  An open letter by Prof. Camillo “Mac” Bica of The School of Visual Arts in New York, to the U.S. Treasury Secretary. His letter reinforces the Pacifist spirit. Please read this letter from a former soldier :

http://www.veteranstoday.com/2017/04/26/conscientious-objection-to-military-taxation-an-open-letter-to-secretary-of-the-treasury-steven-mnuchin/

2. “Ramona” is a song performed by Beck. I had not heard of this song until it came to me in a dream over a month ago. I checked Youtube after I woke up and was surprised to discover the song was listed and performed by a singer I never knew before (Beck). And it is from a story and movie titled, “Scott Pilgrim vs the World.” Scott had to fight several battles to redeem himself and to regain the love of Ramona. I think you can guess why I had this dream.

David left a note on his bed. It read :

“DO NOT SILENCE ME.

LET MY WORK LIVE.”

He ended with this line to me : “Do not fail me again.”

How can I, after all this? I have begun to walk in David’s shoes. His pain is now mine. His causes are my motivation in Life. It is the only way I know to redeem myself with my Son, my Daughter, Sara and the many who loved David Cornelius Singh.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dIuB56pbYMs

This will be a hard struggle, just like David’s….and Scott’s.

*the pieces of the torn portrait of NYC were painstakingly glued together like a jigsaw puzzle, by Edna soon after David’s passing. It is back where it belongs….on the wall in David’s room.

                                          In the Spirit of David Singh

David’s father

Email : davidnfather@gmail.com

April 27, 2017

[fortunetellsrp]

@sinfulnesxx sent "Cock Worship" (reversed) Camillo De franco from Nolan Holloway.

Camillo was fond of finding boys in the most unusual of places, bringing them home for some fun times. It was an easy, welcome distraction from everything else and once in a while he met someone worth his time. Like Nolan. His cock was a thing of beauty, big and powerful, more than he imagined seeing him at first. He let his tongue run through its length slowly, hands jerking the base of his cock while his mouth was busy coating the glans in spit, tasting up all the sweet precum that came with it. He was concerned with nothing else but giving that cock the proper worship, eyes falling closed as he took more and more of it. Swallowing it down until his nose was buried on the younger man's bush, face deep in the sweet musk as his throat contracted around the large intrusion. He pulled back as he started to choke, eyes wet, spit coating the shaft in front of him, hands reaching down to play with his balls while he gently kissed his cock before going down once more.

Send me “Cock Worship” for my muse to react to someone (your muse unless otherwise specified) worshiping my muse’s cock like it was some kind of divine instrument

[morganbelarus]

The first female professor in the UK – BBC News

Image copyright Royal Conservatoire Scotland

Image caption Emma Ritter-Bondy was appointed professor of music in 1892

The Royal Conservatoire of Scotland has uncovered the story of Emma Ritter-Bondy, whom it believes was the first female professor of a higher education institution in the UK.

The Glasgow Athenaeum School of Music, which is now the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, made her Professor of Piano in 1892.

That was 16 years before Edith Morley, thought to be the first female professor in the UK, was appointed Professor of English Language at University College, Reading, which is now the University of Reading.

Pivotal time

Stuart Harris-Logan, archives officer at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, said the Athenaeum was a comparable college to Reading.

He told BBC Scotland: "We could not be put on a par with universities as we did not issue degrees but we know we were a college at that time.

"That's why we can compare ourselves to another college in 1916 who had appointed a female professor."

She was likely to have been actively recruited by Allan Macbeth around the time that the Glasgow Athenaeum was employing many talented musicians from Europe

Stuart Harris-Logan, Royal Conservatiore of Scotland archivist

He said: "Professor Ritter-Bondy taught with us at a pivotal time for music pedagogy in Glasgow when Allan Macbeth - an alumnus of the Leipzig Conservatorium - was seeking to establish a European-style conservatoire in Scotland, leading to the institution we have today."

He said there were already female teachers at the school and her elevation to a professorship was a distinct honour that had never been given to a woman before.

That honour came 48 years before Margaret Fairlie was appointed Professor of Obstetrics and Gynaecology at University College, Dundee, which was part of the University of St Andrews.

She is widely recognised as the first woman to hold a professorial chair at a university in Scotland.

Music education

Mr Harris-Logan said the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland had only instituted its archive in 2011 and was still discovering many aspects of its 170-year past.

"At the time when Emma was with us we were situated in a wonderful building on Buchanan Street in the centre of Glasgow, which is now the Hard Rock Cafe, right next to the underground," he says.

The Athenaeum School of Music would probably have had about 200 students, who were receiving a higher level music education.

It is through the research of Ms Ritter-Bondy's great-grandson that much is known about her.

She was born Emma Maria Bondy in Austria in 1838 and studied at the Vienna Conservatory in the mid-1850s.

She married artist Franz Ritter in Vienna in 1862 and had two children, Ida and Camillo.

When Emma was widowed in 1879, she decided to leave her home in Koblenz, Germany to start anew in Glasgow, and settled in the city by 1881.

In autumn 1892, when she was appointed Professor of Piano, she also became a British citizen.

Mr Harris-Logan said: "Perhaps one of the reasons Emma moved to Glasgow was that she was likely to have been actively recruited by Allan Macbeth around the time that the Glasgow Athenaeum was employing many talented musicians from Europe such as Henri Verbrugghen, our violin teacher and de facto head of strings, who in 1915 was headhunted to found the Sydney Conservatorium and Sydney Symphony Orchestra."

Because the records of the Glasgow Athenaeum are so scant they prevent us from saying anything more about her

Stuart Harris-Logan

Mr Harris-Logan said that not much was known about Prof Ritter-Bondy's time at the school of music.

He says: "Because the records of the Glasgow Athenaeum are so scant they prevent us from saying anything more about her.

"We know she was giving concerts. In October 1893 she gave a concert in Athenaeum Hall with her two children, who were also musicians.

"Her son Camillo had played violin at the Royal Academy in London and had become a violinist of some repute in later life, so the family continued to be musical after Emma."

"But the records are so scarce we can't flesh her out any more than that, which is quite frustrating really."

He adds: "As the only woman to hold such a post in an environment which was almost entirely male dominated, it put Emma at the forefront of arts education in Scotland and beyond."

More From this publisher : HERE

=> *********************************************** Originally Published Here: The first female professor in the UK – BBC News ************************************ =>

The first female professor in the UK – BBC News was originally posted by 16 MP Just news

[dulwichdiverter]

Wondrous works

Dulwich Picture Gallery celebrates its 200th anniversary this year. New director Jennifer Scott showed us round the spectacular space

Words by Elizabeth Rust; Photo by Lima Charlie

Jennifer Scott loves Dulwich. She’s been coming here her entire life, and she regards the Dulwich Picture Gallery as her favourite place.

Jennifer has recently been appointed the gallery’s Sackler director. It’s a role she’s excited about, particularly because of the gallery’s “world-class programme of engaging with the community”.

“We welcome everyone,” she says. “From babies right the way through to retired people. There’s a really nice family feel to the gallery. It’s small, so it has an intimate feel where people can really engage with the art.”

Jennifer is bubbly and talks fast. She warns that she can talk too much. But she is very serious when discussing the gallery’s collection. She comes across as fiercely protective of its “outstanding” work.

Her spacious office on the first floor of the building overlooks the College Road entrance, giving her a front row view of everyone coming into the gallery.

From her desk she can see mature, picturesque gardens with a perfectly mowed green lawn and the stunning buildings designed by Sir John Soane. “It’s just so beautiful,” she enthuses.

The gallery is considered one of Dulwich’s treasures, with exhibitions that have included the work of Dutch graphic artist MC Escher, Norwegian painter Nikolai Astrup and “blockbusters” like Eric Ravilious.

Visitors have until June 4 to catch the first major exhibition of work by Vanessa Bell, which features about 100 paintings, ceramics and fabrics from the Bloomsbury  artist. A series of photographs by Bell and singer Patti Smith is also on display.

Next up is the first UK show in almost a century that is devoted to watercolours by Anglo-American artist John Singer Sargent. The highly anticipated exhibition will run from June 21 until October 8.

Dulwich Picture Gallery is England’s first purpose-built art gallery and opened its doors to the public in 1817. During the 2015/2016 season it welcomed 220,000 visitors – more than double the 98,000 people who came in 2004/2005.

In the same season, 35,000 visitors participated in its community outreach programme, including the mini masterpieces workshop where babies get to create art. Still Jennifer is keen to increase these numbers. She wants everyone to visit the gallery.

“The collection here is so outstanding,” she says. “Someone can come here and engage with one painting, see an exhibition or do a hands-on art class. This is a place that can make people feel better about themselves.”

Despite this, Jennifer understands that the gallery can be intimidating. “I think it has to do with the quality of the place, but I’m always mindful of the fact that these works were made by artists,” she says.

“Artists were everyday people who were often putting a lens on everyday life. So for me it’s a misconception that because it’s old, you have to have six [university] degrees to understand it. It’s actually all about humanity.”

Jennifer gives the example of a painting by Sir Anthony van Dyck that depicts Venetia Stanley on her deathbed. Venetia died mysteriously at 32. She was considered a great beauty, with a roguish reputation before she married Sir Kenelm Digby, who despite this, adored her.

“Van Dyck has painted this portrait as if you’re looking over her,” Jennifer says. “It’s so personal, because it’s from [the perspective of] a husband leaning in to give her a last kiss. It’s just so beautiful, and I think it can help people who are suffering from loss, and help anyone to think about the human condition.

“Also it’s just so poetic, and it can take you somewhere else. I was looking at it just this week and got completely lost in it. Someone came and tapped me on the shoulder and I was so in my own world that I jumped.”

She adds that the gallery is looking for even more ways for the permanent collection to be reflected in its exhibition programme. “The collection is so good. We can explore themes, such as loss or beauty. Because then it helps us challenge back again: What is art about? Why does art matter?

“We all talk about art, and we don’t even know we’re doing it. But we reference it a lot in our lives. It’s there in the public consciousness along with music as a way we express ourselves and connect with people.”

Jennifer believes that everyone can have a personal response to art. One of her goals at the gallery is to take visitors on a journey so that they feel something.

She talks about her previous role as the director of Bath’s Holburne Museum, where she curated an exhibition of impressionists’ portraits. Lighting was used to form different moods.

In one room an intimate space was created with a portrait of Camille Pissarro’s daughter, who had just been diagnosed with tuberculosis. “At first you see this cute little child, but she looks a bit uncomfortable sitting on a chair,” says Jennifer. “Maybe she’s bored, or doesn’t want to be painted.

“Then you look at the label where it references that she’s sick. You look back again and you see it in a totally different way. She’s uncomfortable probably because she’s in pain. Then you came out of that room and it was fresh with Renoir society paintings.

“I felt that exhibition really worked. That’s something I really enjoy doing. I want people to have an emotional connection with the art because then they’ll remember it. I hope people will be open to that.”

Jennifer was at the Holburne Museum for two years. Prior to that she was a curator of paintings at the Royal Collection Trust. She has authored numerous publications, and worked in the curatorial department of the National Gallery in London and National Museums Liverpool.

However, despite her scholarly credentials, she’s keen to emphasise that people don’t have to fall in love with the exhibits, or even necessarily enjoy the gallery. If someone walks into the space and doesn’t like what they see, that’s fine. There’s no right or wrong.

Art can speak to people in different ways. Someone can do research, like knowing that a painting was made after the artist moved to Madrid, and looking for a Spanish influence. Or they can look at it and remember their grandmother. Both are valid responses.

Art can also bring different people together, Jennifer says. “I may have very little in common with [someone], but if we go to the gallery, we can talk about a painting by Rembrandt, for example.

“We can talk about the light, the ways someone’s been painted, the colours, and the way it makes you feel. We don’t have to come from the same place or speak the same language very well. Art can be a uniting factor and break down barriers.”

Feedback about exhibitions is always welcome, she stresses, especially critical feedback. “If someone comes to me and says they didn’t like something, I want them to talk to me about it: what they didn’t like, what could have made it better. Let’s have a chat.”

However, she is keen to try new things in the space too. For example, to celebrate the 200th anniversary this year, a temporary pavilion with translucent mirrored screens is being built at the College Road entrance.

Designed by Bermondsey-based architecture and design practice IF_DO, planned events in the new space will include yoga in the morning and late openings on Fridays and Sundays.

The pavilion is set to launch on June 1, to coincide with the beginning of the London Festival of Architecture. “I want people to spill out onto the lawn and have fun,” Jennifer says.

Currently there are hoardings around the construction, which are covered in street art. One is by the street artist RUN. It’s his interpretation of Camillo Procaccini’s painting The Last Communion of St Francis, which belongs to the gallery.

Bright colours, like fluorescent pink and mustard yellow have been used and the figures look much more abstract than the original, but the work is still recognisable. “He’s so talented,” Jennifer says. “He was chatting with our visitors. They loved it.”

Inside the gallery she’s keen to show off Rembrandt’s Girl at a Window. “This is one of Rembrandt’s most famous paintings, and we have it here,” she says, showing how ingeniously Rembrandt captured a moment in time.

She explains how it’s thought that Rembrandt put the painting in a window and passersby mistook it for a real girl. Two visitors listen to her as she talks about the painting. When she walks away, they stand in front of it admiring it for a couple more moments.

But who would she most like to visit the gallery? Before she responds she first explains why it’s important for high-profile people to visit the space – because it spreads the word – and admits she wouldn’t mind George Clooney stopping by.

“One of the reasons for that is selfish because I’d have to give him a personal tour”, she laughs. But really she insists: “I want the Dulwich Picture Gallery to be a destination for everyone to see the best of western art.”

[fortunetellsrp]

Camillo was lost to it, worshipping cock had that effect on him. Hazy mind and clouded eyes, drunk on it. And it was such a great cock, big and veiny, fat enough to be a challenge, spit coated the shaft and his face as he worked it over. Musky balls making the whole experience all the better, it just felt right to be on his knees in worship of such a tool.

At the words he looked up, cock on his mouth as he pictured the image he made. He knew he looked good on his knees with a cock on his lips, he'd seen pictures, but it felt nice to hear it. He hummed around the shaft, pleased to play the submissive part if it meant getting more time with that dick, delicious precum filling his mouth, coating his tongue.

The curse got him moaning, mean attitude not something he was too used with but not unwelcome. He knew how to work a man, he liked being on his knees. And if men wanted to call him a slut for it while feeding him cock he was all too glad to listen to it. He worked him over with gusto, moaning in appreciation at the degradation as he focused on his job, face burined in his pubes losing himself to it, fucking his own throat on that thick piece as he slobbered all over it.

Pulling away teary eyed to clean up his mess, he licked the shaft slowly before going in for the balls, trying to fit both into his hungry mouth. His eyes fell closed at their taste, hand stroking the shaft as he savored it, almost forgetting his task as his tongue ran over the wrinkled skin lapping up at the sweat. His own cock throbbed and he knew he might cum just from this, just from servicing such a cock, such a dominating man. Without thinking he slapped the thick shaft across his face, making an even bigger mess while he suckled on his balls.

Nolan had run into this man while he was covering a news story regarding an event of Camillo's father, but it was definitely more fun to be in the Italian's house, to have that politician's son on his knees, worshipping his huge cock, appreciating it as if it were the most beautiful and delicious thing in the whole world. And in a way, it was. It was huge, long, as thick as a beer can, a pink mushroom head, a couple of veins here and there.

The base was covered with a thick clump of pubic hairs and ending with a pair of big heavy balls. “That's it. Fuck... You look so hot this way. That's where you belong, worshipping the huge cock of a stud like me” he commented between moans and grunts. Watching as that talented tongue slowly licked up and down his fat shaft, enjoying those warm lips enveloping his glans, his cock throbbing and splashing precum on Camillo's wet muscle.

“Fuck, you really know how to worship a man's cock. I bet you've done it with several men to get such a level of experience, huh? Fucking slut” Nolan brought his hands to the Italian's head, tangling his fingers in his hair as he let out another couple of loud, lust-filled moans as he felt Camillo swallow more of his cock. It was quite a sight to watch as inch after inch was disappearing between those warm lips. “Fuck yes! I can feel my cock so deep in your throat”

Nolan rubbed the man's nose against his musky pubic hair. “You like that smell, bitch? All sweaty and musky?” his cock throbbed with excitement as he heard Camillo choke. There was nothing hotter, than watching a man choke on his huge cock and seeing his eyes fill with little tears, just the way the Italian man looked in those moments. “Play with my balls, yeah, good boy. Fuck, keep going” Nolan's fingers clenched into firm fists as he moaned and enjoyed having an expert slut like Camillo worshipping his cock.