I have noticed that the people of Naples talk of Palermo in a way that others might speak of a much loved sister. I know nothing of Palermo, other than its close connections with the Mafia families and the images I have gleaned from a recent Netflix dramatization of Il Gattopardo (written 1930-60) which translates as The Leopard. The serialisation of the book is most beautifully done, and it visually introduces us to aristocratic life as it was in Palermo in the 1860s - 1910.
The narrative of The Leopard, which has been likened to James Joyce's Ulysses, is a gentle capture of a Prince of Salina's navigation of his family estates during times of turbulent political change. At the beginning of the book Giuseppe Garibaldi has landed on Sicilian shores with his proletarian army of 1000 "red shirts" and they are entering Palermo. The Leopard's princedom is about to transition from being under the hegemony of the Bourbon kings in Rome to a new status as a noble family estate without political leverage in a newly unified Italy. The Prince, who is a complex and proud character with a strong Sicilian Catholic heritage to defend as well as human flaws such as a penchant for prostitutes. He is humiliated into attending Garibaldi's parties in exchange for a travel pass to move his family away from the summer heat of Palermo to his palatial retreat in the mountains.
Sicily is a strategic central-Mediterranean island that has been ruled by the Hellenistic Greeks, Carthaginians, Romans, Normans, Moors and Spanish and Italian Kings, today it is the first port of call for migrants from Africa. In a lament the prince explains to his family, who are urging him to pick sides, how Sicilians have always survived by remining resolute, upright and true to themselves whilst bending to new ever changing conquerors that have swept across Sicily. Whilst in Sicily my Sicilian friend, Margherita, gave a very similar opinion of how she thinks of her own Sicilian personality, and after I mentioned the Leopard's lament she replied, "yes that is exactly right".
On my first day I was expecting Palermo (population 1 million) to be a lot smaller than Naples (population 6 million). I was surprised to find the architecture to be similarly grand however the people are quite different. The City feels as big, spacious and large as Naples itself, and it is riddled with narrow alleyways that are a similarly cool refuge from the summer heat, But unlike Naples the streets are clean, there is no graffiti painted over all the walls and monuments, there are no drunks, urine and broken glass on the streets.
On my first day I walked for miles, trying to find a perspective of how I might fit into the landscape. I was surprised that when I crossed the street I was the only one crossing, because the Sicilians were still huddled on the pavements like a bunch of Japanese tourists waiting for a little green man to start walking. In Naples they simply do not have traffic lights, let alone pedestrian controls. In Naples all the cars are scratched and dented, motorbikes are strapped together with cello tape and the roads are a free-for-all chaos that eschews any need traffic or pedestrian lights. In contrast the Palermians are courteous drivers who stop whenever they see someone who might want to step in front of them.
Naples is said to be the only city in Europe where poverty stretches into the centre, and many refugees and a lot of suffering. There is poverty in Palermo, but as I will explain later the poverty less and it is gentler (if poverty can ever be called gentle).
This is the first drawing trip since covid scourged us six years ago. I knew my first drawings would be tight and tentative, so I chose to draw something safe like a lion in front of Massimo Theatre
To add to the grandness of the city Palermo has the largest Opera House in Italy, even larger than La Scala, and every bit as ornate. It is a jewel where the Leopard would have felt at home. The lions of Massimo Theatre look our onto a large square with palm trees and where tourists congregate.
For seven Euros visitors can walk on the roof, and from here we have a panoramic view of Palermo which sits crushed in a plain surrounded on three sides by jagged mountains and the sea on the fourth. It is breath-takingly beautiful (see top image). It was here by the cathedral that I met a family from Naples with two delightful daughters, and a gypsy begging whilst suckling a very young baby. Again this area was too grand for my needs. and so I plodded the city looking for my place in it.
And here is another square, the piazza Bellini which includes a wide mingling of architectural styles, including Roman remains, Muslim domes and Christian baroque styling
It took time for me to find my place. This began whilst I was sitting at a café drawing tourists, we were beside the entrance to a church where some very burley men with big black beards were delivering baskets of white flowers. For six hours they were preparing the church for a wedding, and we onlookers joked it must be a Mafia wedding.
The acoustics in the large Italian churches, the music which sometimes includes arias from Verdi and the lovely style of the Italians clothes make these services a favourite subject for my drawings, and so it was that I crept into the back of the church to make a drawing of the service.
This is a furtive photo taken by a member of the congregation of me drawing on the floor in that beautiful building
Later in the week I crept in and gate-crashed another wedding
After the service I drew some of the fashion show as the congregation that gathered at the church door to throw rice over the newly wed couple.
A girl in white dress
The burly men removed all the flowers and sat nearby drinking coffee. They had noticed me and it was not long before they were asking to see my drawings. Thus I met Angel, a huge man with a huge beard and a soft mellow voice. I remember thinking "you really are an angel"
Quattro Centi is Baroque Crossroads is barely a square, but it is where the buskers take it in turns to perform. Along the roads leading to this interchange are many stalls, bars, cafes and restaurants. Sicily is an social outdoor culture, so the whole world comes outside and makes a back drop to all the street entertainment, a rich theatre of real-life personalities. I spent many relaxing hours drawing street life. Often I give these images to their owners but here are a few I kept
Nayem, a good looking waiter from Bangladesh
A fair girl with a glass
a romantic couples from Argentina
a girl with a lock of loose hair
a fathers with his child
Two Franciscan monks eating take away pizza and juice
and there are the buskers too;
Simon, an elegant man with a synthesiser. He lays down a well known theme, such as the melody of the Elvira Madigan piano concerto and then enriches the soundscape with more instruments to make new original orchestrations of the music
Frederika is one sassy lady with wild Sicilian hair and a deep flamenco voice
Frederica sent me a photo of myself
and then there is Giuseppe, a baritone who sings my favourite Verdi aria, "di provenza il mar" from La Traviata where Alfredo's father recognises Violetta has a noble heart.
and Carolina who sings L' amour from Bizet's Carmen with stretched long arms like a dancer
and then there is Margherita, a singer with a soft feminine voice in a white dress and a guitar who writes her own compositions and sings Amy Winehouse ballads. Margherita has an intimate voice that wants to polish silver. Every song appears a journey for her, her words stumble and vibrate when she considers their meaning.
in the cafés there are squeeze box players moving from restaurant to restaurant
As the days pass I became friends with many of these people who adopt me as one more street performer. I was invited to join them for meals and visits to music venues. This raucous band played Blue Sued Shoes with gusto and I was the only one old enough to remember this pop song in the early 1960s
In this bar Marguerita sits next to me as I draw, and we discuss the crowds and their Continental intellectual aspect; There is Kesena from Ukraine
and this serious looking listener
Mothers with their children have long been a favourite subject for my drawing. Late one evening I met this lovely child, Angela, serving lasagne with her mother. Angela is coy and clings to her mother's apron.
and this pregnant mother with her baby is serving food in a fish restaurant
I was expecting to see more beggars. The homeless with their many pets seem to collect money almost effortlessly. This is Angelo, an intelligent boyish man with a stylish haircut. He has two dogs and a spotted Abyssinian cat who is the most elegant cat you will ever see. He is called Mr Ling
Mr Ling whelps and cries like a puppy when Angelo is away.
I discover Angelo was born in Palermo, and is the son of a Dutch man who met a Sicilian girl. He says he likes the "liberty" that life on the streets brings him. I only once saw Angelo put out a hat to collect money, and it was half hearted because mostly people stop to meet the pets and give him money anyway.
Everyday Angelo moves all his possessions on a cart. This is a similar loaded up family of another homeless guy
I guess the pets do not get a lot of veterinary attention, but they are mostly strays that have found much loved homes, and are very happy and relaxed with the care and attention they get. Late one evening I meet Pavel with his dog resting on top of him. I wish I had captured the pathos of this scene better, the relationship between dog and master was very warm!
Pavel's dog spied me drawing, and left his armchair to come and give me a welcome with his wet nuzzle before returning back to sit on top of Pavel. I later learn Pavel comes from Czechoslovakia and has lived on the streets for 25 years. He tells me the first five years were in Switzerland and very hard, but life as a homeless person these last eleven year in Palermo have been the best he ever found.
Meeting the homeless with their pets I am struck that they are all well spoken and gentle, and none of them are alcoholics. Another class of money collectors are the gypsies. Amongst these were gypsies is this this lady who provides the perfect pose for a drawing. Notice she has co-ordinated her clothing, and so although she is begging we must conclude she has personal pride and dignity. She may be despised and at the bottom of the social pile, but this is how gypsies are and how she chooses to be.
I first meet this interesting lady sitting on the steps next to Angelo, and I like her pose so much that I start drawing before she moved or saw me. I guess what her reaction will be; as soon as she sees I am drawing her she rises like hornet, striding up to me, stinging me with Italian invective and gesticulating. But I ignore her complaints and finish my portrait
After I finish I give her two euros, and then more euros, and we become firm friends. From now on every time we meet she gets a euro. Afterwards Angelo told me that before I gave her money she was casting death curses on me for stealing from her. In my experience the gypsies are nearly always transactional. As soon as I pay her I become part of her in-group and she is on my side. When dealing with the outside world the gypsies will give nothing for nothing, and by drawing her without payment she saw me as a thief.
I first meet Maria very late one evening, just after I had drawn Pavel the kind homeless man with his dog. She is breast feeding a baby, and I sit on the bench beside her to draw her.
I give her ten euros because anything less will make me feel bad. Her other children gather around us. All are animated, but all have the sad empty eyes that all gypsies have. I ask their names, and they seem genuinely pleased to meet me, they becomes animated and like other children they love it when I draw a cat, but they continue to ask for more money. I learn all their names - Daniel, Bianca, Laura and Marco. Eventually Maria throws up the shirt of her youngest child and exposed his nakedness to me. For a while I am bewildered, and it takes me a while to understand she wants me to buy nappies. Her behaviour is another manipulative trick. She will ween her children to extract money at every opportunity, like her parents taught to her. These children are so ingrained with this behaviour that they will find it very hard to join normal Sicilian society.
You will remember that I mentioned that Palermo has the largest, maybe the most opulent opera house in all of Italy. It is my final evening and I have bought a ticket for the opening performance of Il Barbiere di Siiglia (Barber of Seville). On the way I meet Maria and her children, and they all dance around me calling me "papa". I want to stop and draw because the images they are creating are so exciting but walk on but I will be late to the opera house.
At the theatre the Italians are dressed more immaculately and elegantly than we do at Covent Garden. I am early and alone in the box and make one last image of Italy whilst I am awaiting in the Leopard's world of ostentatious opulence for the performance to begin.
From our box I look across at all the other guests and see many fans fluttering just like in the 19th century costume dramas.
Eventually an elderly Italian couple of about my age join me. They are opera connoisseurs. All the singers seem excellent to me, but my companions are more critical, telling me the orchestra needs more players, and the sound is...he hesitates, "dry". They say the soprano is wonderful, in fact the best they have seen in the role since 2013 when they were at La Scala, Milano.
We clap loudly, and exit the theatre on to Massimo Piazza where I find Angelo has set himself up for the night with a cardboard mattress, and Mr Ling is grooming himself whilst the two dogs lay lazily resting in the still warm summer heat of the day. From opulence to homelessness in just a few steps, but everyone is comfortable with their lot; all things in Palermo feels harmonious.
I take the walk to Quattro Canti hoping to meet the gypsy kids, maybe I still have a chance to record those images of the children but they have gone.
The next day I return to the UK. As we drive to the airport I wonder at what is happening in the rocky Sicilian mountains that the Leopard loved so much, and contemplate the two sisters. Of course there is a dark side to Palermo I have not met, and from what I hear the Mafia of today are more involved with corrupting politics than with people in the street. A Palermo that I as a tourist have no sense of. Will my next Italian visit be to the lawless broken-glass edginess of Naples, or will I come back to the sobriety of Palermo? It will be hard to choice, I miss Sicily. I love both equally!
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