domingo, 31 de mayo de 2020


Julia Fiore

Edgar Degas, The Rehearsal of the Ballet Onstage, ca. 1874. Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The fundamentals of ballet haven’t changed all that much since its invention in 15th-century Italy. Yet the popular image of this deeply traditional medium has been largely defined by the talents of one thoroughly modern artist: Hilaire-Germain-Edgar Degas.

The coteries of young women in flowering tutus who populate the approximately 1,500 paintings, monotypes, and drawings Degas dedicated to the ballet are among the French artist’s most universally beloved artworks. At first glance, Degas has rendered the sort of pretty, innocent world one might associate with a 6-year-old’s first recital. These works actually speak to an insidious culture that would be shocking to contemporary audiences.

Although it enjoyed unprecedented popularity in Degas’s era, the ballet—and the figure of the ballerina—had suffered a demoralizing fate by the late 1800s. Performances had been reduced to tawdry interludes in operas, the spectacle serving as an enticing respite for concertgoers, who could ogle the dancers’ uncovered legs.

The formerly upright ballet had taken on the role of unseemly cabaret; in Paris, its success was almost entirely predicated on lecherous social contracts. Sex work was a part of a ballerina’s reality, and the city’s grand opera house, the Palais Garnier, was designed with this in mind. A luxuriously appointed room located behind the stage, called the foyer de la danse, was a place where the dancers would warm up before performances. But it also served as a kind of men’s club, where abonnés—wealthy male subscribers to the opera—could conduct business, socialize, and proposition the ballerinas.

These relationships always involved an unbalanced power dynamic. Young female members of the corps de ballet entered the academy as children. Many of these ballerinas-in-training, derisively called “petits rats,” came from working-class or impoverished backgrounds. They often joined the ballet to support their families, working grueling, six-day weeks.
And so dancers’ earnings and careers were beholden to the abonnés prowling backstage. They were expected to submit to the affections of these subscribers, and were frequently encouraged by their own mothers to fan the flames of male desire. Such relationships could offer lifelines for the impoverished dancers; not only did these aristocrats and financiers hold powerful positions in society, their patronage underwrote the opera’s operations.

Men like these had authority over who obtained plum roles and who was cast off. As a girl’s “patron,” he could provide her with an opulent lifestyle, paying for a comfortable apartment or private lessons to elevate her standing in the ballet corps. The brothel culture of the ballet was so pervasive, as historian Lorraine Coons remarks in her essay “Artiste or coquette? Les petits rats of the Paris Opera ballet,” that even successful dancers who did not resort to prostitution would likely have been suspected to have done so anyway.

The sexual politics that played out in the foyer de la danse was of great interest to Degas. In fact, very few of his depictions of the dance show an actual performance. Instead, the artist hovers behind the wings, backstage, in class, or at a rehearsal. In works like L’Étoile (1878), he depicts the curtain call at the end of the performance, with the curtsying dancer bathed in the unflattering glare of the lights. Behind her, a man in an elegant black tuxedo lurks in the wings, his face hidden by the goldenrod curtain. Such sinister figures also appear in works like Dancers, Pink and Green (ca. 1890). Sometimes, the viewer himself is thrust into the leering perspective of the abonnés: In Dancers at the Old Opera House (ca. 1877), the action onstage is seen from behind the curtain.

“People call me the painter of dancing girls,” Degas once explained to Parisian art dealer Ambroise Vollard. “It has never occurred to them that my chief interest in dancers lies in rendering movement and painting pretty clothes.” But Degas didn’t care tremendously about the ballet as an art form, let alone frilly pastel tutus. He endeavored to capture the reality of the ballet that lurked behind the artifice of the cool, carefully constructed choreography.

This was in keeping with Degas’s broader interest in the harsh realities of modern life. Despite his association with the Impressionists, a group that had a profound influence on his work, Degas preferred to be called a realist. He favored scenes of ballet dancers, laundresses, milliners, and other members from the lower echelons of Parisian society. Urban subjects cast in harsh, artificial light distinguished his works from the bright, leisurely plein air paintings by artists such as Claude Monet. And while Monet focused his attentions primarily on the effects of light and color, Degas obsessed over capturing the body in motion.

Degas’s decision to avoid bonny, sentimental pictures, however, was a canny one for an artist who strove for originality. “The visual language of compassion was unusable for any serious artist in the 1870s and ’80s,” Germaine Greer observed in The Guardian, “because the public art of the period oozed sentiment. Pretty beggars and plump rosy little girlies with tears in their eyes were as often to be encountered then, as fluffy kittens are today.”
One of Degas’s most famous depictions of a dancer comes not in the form of a painting, but a wax sculpture—a tactile medium that suited the 40-something artist as his eyesight began to fade. Little Dancer Aged Fourteen (1878–81), a life-size statue of a teenage “petit rat,” was only exhibited once in the artist’s lifetime, and the great scandal it caused deterred Degas from ever exhibiting his sculptures again.

Before the Ballet
Edgar Degas
Before the Ballet, 1890/1892
National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

The Little Dancer was originally presented quite differently from how she appears today. Degas dressed her up in a real tutu, bodice, stockings, and pointe shoes. She also had on a pig-tailed wig with a green bow, and another ribbon tied around her neck. Some critics compared it to Madame Tussaud’s waxworks. “Can art descend lower?” one anonymous writer asked. Art critic Paul Mantz described the dancer as a “flower of precocious depravity,” with a “face marked by the hateful promise of every vice.” Mantz further exposed the prejudice against ballet dancers in general: “With bestial effrontery,” he wrote, “she moves her face forward, or rather her little muzzle—and this word is completely correct because the little girl is the beginning of a rat.”

Marie van Goethem was the “petit rat” who posed for the sculpture, and she likely engaged in the sexually predatory economy of the ballet world to survive. Van Goethem disappeared from the public eye shortly after the sculpture was completed; after being late to a rehearsal, the Paris Opera Ballet dismissed her. The teenager probably returned home to follow in the footsteps of her mother—a laundress and likely prostitute—and older sister, who was also a sex worker.

Life was cruel to French ballet dancers, and they didn’t have it much easier at the hands of Degas himself. Although the artist was known to reject the advances of his models, his callousness manifested in other ways. To capture the physicality and discipline of the dancers, Degas demanded his models pose for hours at a time, enduring excruciating discomfort as they held their contorted positions. He wanted to capture his “little monkey girls,” as he called them, “cracking their joints” at the barre. “I have perhaps too often considered woman as an animal,” he once told the painter Pierre Georges Jeanniot in a moment of revealing honesty.

Degas was undoubtedly a merciless, cantankerous man. He was a misogynist—peers seemed almost afraid of his antagonism towards women—an especially troubling reputation considering the already sexist norms of his society. Contemporary viewers now delight in the artist’s profoundly evocative hand and brilliant, textural applications of color. While it’s possible to admire Degas’s dancers from a formal standpoint, this narrow appreciation ignores the abuse these sorry girls suffered. A closer look at these works shows how the painter did indeed cut through the ballet’s kitschy artifice, uncovering a milieu of misery, hardship, and raw beauty.


Par Anna Rousseau
Rose de mai, jasmin, tubéreuse… Capitale des parfumeurs, Grasse concentre les meilleurs récoltants de fleurs à l’origine de fragrances mondialement portées, de Dior à Chanel. Bouquet choisi.

La rose de mai ou centifolia. Elle embaume d'une puissante odeur miellée avec des accents fruités et épicés.


Singulière saison: même au cœur des villes, on a senti, au sens propre, le printemps arriver. En temps normal, l'odeur des pots d'échappement recouvre tout. Cette fois, l'air s'est parfumé. Les voitures à l'arrêt, il a flotté dans l'atmosphère, au hasard des rues, une odeur de lilas, de chèvrefeuille, ou de glycine. Dans les campagnes aussi, la nature s'est fait sentir plus vigoureusement. Et à Grasse, la ville des parfumeurs, plus que nulle part ailleurs. Ici, les fleurs embaument toute l'année: le mimosa lance la saison en janvier, suivi par la violette, la glycine, la fleur d'oranger en mars-avril, le freesia et l'iris. En mai, c'est la rose et le lys de la madone, puis l'été arrive avec la lavande, le genêt et le jasmin. La tubéreuse termine la boucle en automne. Mais cette année sort de l'ordinaire: dans les champs de fleurs à parfum comme dans la campagne environnante, les couleurs sont encore plus franches, les odeurs encore plus marquées.

Au milieu des champs enherbés du Domaine de Manon, des milliers de boutons rose pastel se font désirer au cœur de leurs feuilles vert tendre. Le bourdonnement des abeilles se fait déjà intense. Depuis les premiers jours de mai, les cueilleuses se rassemblent dès 8h30 du matin et attendent patiemment que les fleurs veuillent bien céder aux premiers rayons du soleil et s'ouvrir. "Dès qu'on s'approche, on sent des notes de poivre, de miel, et d'agrumes", observe Carole Biancalana, dont la famille est productrice de fleurs depuis quatre générations, et qui est désormais en partenariat avec Dior.[ChaActu18h]-20200530


4 minute take from the 1971 film "Man of la Mancha" starring Peter O'Toole...his brief soliloquy featured in this clip is, in one opinion, is one of the most poignant moments in storytelling.  John LeGear


Presentazione del libro:
Se Venezia muore di Salvatore Settis

9 dicembre 2014, ore 17.00
Palazzo Franchetti

L'Istituto Veneto di Scienze Lettere ed Arti, in collaborazione con Giulio Einaudi Editore, presenta il libro:

Se Venezia muore di Salvatore Settis
Giulio Einaudi Editore.

Giorgio Agamben
Lidia Fersuoch
Gherardo Ortalli
Gian Antonio Stella

Sarà presente l'autore

Ingresso libero fino a esaurimento posti

Le città storiche sono insidiate dalla resa a una falsa modernità, dallo spopolamento, dall'oblio di sé.
Di questa minaccia, e dei rimedi possibili, Venezia è supremo esempio. Dobbiamo ritrovarne l'anima, rivendicare il diritto della città.

Salvatore Settis, archeologo e storico dell'arte, ha diretto il Getty Research Institute di Los Angeles e la Normale di Pisa. È presidente del Consiglio scientifico del Louvre. Collabora con «la Repubblica», «Il Sole 24 Ore» e «l'Espresso». Tra i suoi libri pubblicati per Einaudi ricordiamo Italia S.p.A. (2002), Futuro del 'classico' (2004), Paesaggio Costituzione cemento (2010), Azione popolare (2012) e Costituzione incompiuta (2013, con A. Leone, P. Maddalena e T. Montanari).

sábado, 30 de mayo de 2020


Estimad@s, espero que estén muy bien!
Para este sábado por la tarde quiero compartirles la canción Que te pongas 
con VIDEO DE ANIMACIÓN sobre un dibujo hecho por mi hijo Pedro.
Es parte del disco Cajita de sueños con producción musical de Martín Telechanski.

Les dejo el material por si quieren difundirlo en los canales que consideren convenientes: 

En el disco Cajita de sueños participan músicos como Lito VItale, Kevin Johansen,
Nadia Larcher, Cucuza Castiello, Martín Telechanski, Gabriel Spiller, Manu Uriona,
Malena Dayen, Dan Zlotnik, Diego Pojomovsky y otros.



À la croisée des couloirs labyrinthiques de l’Opéra Bastille et de l’hôpital Gustave-Roussy de Villejuif, deux trajectoires d’actrices au seuil d’incarner la maladie. Jouant des ressemblances entre les deux espace-temps, et du trouble quant à ce qui tient de la fiction ou de la réalité, violence et passion des sentiments des deux femmes vont si bien se mêler qu’elles témoigneront de différents rapports au tragique et à la représentation.
DURÉE : 18:00"

LANGUE : Français


The twentieth century simply cannot be understood without Hannah Arendt, wrote the Israeli author Amos Elon. Two concepts significantly influenced by Arendt’s thought, totalitarianism and the banality of evil, determine how we view the twentieth century down to the present day. One reason for this ongoing influence is that Arendt’s insights were rarely left unchallenged.

The planned exhibition aims to trace Arendt’s observations on contemporary history and introduce to the public a life and work that mirrors the history of the twentieth century: totalitarianism, the situation of refugees, the Adenauer era, racial segregation in the U.S., the Eichmann trial in Jerusalem or the student movement.

Arendt frequently expressed her views on current events as a public intellectual, often sparking fierce controversy. As the exhibition will show this diagnostic appraisal makes the question of the power of judgement particularly urgent today against the backdrop of pluralization, the accelerated change in values and growing populism.


Charles Dickens — man of science
He’s best known for his novels exposing the plight of the Victorian poor, yet Charles Dickens was also passionately engaged with the scientific advances of his day.

His weekly magazine, Household Words, for example, included numerous contributions from Michael Faraday, the discoverer of electromagnetic induction. More recently, critics have cited Darwin’s theory of evolution as an influence on Bleak House.

Dickens also counted two pioneering British mathematicians, Charles Babbage and Ada Lovelace, as friends, and all three are connected to a very special text that is now offered for private sale at Christie’s.

Margaret Sarah Carpenter (1793-1872), (Augusta) Ada King, Countess of Lovelace (1815-1852) Mathematician, Daughter of Lord Byron, 1836. Government Art Collection. Photo: Ann Ronan/Heritage Images/Scala, Florence

The text is a rare offprint of Lovelace’s translation of an article about Babbage’s groundbreaking invention, the Analytical Engine, by the Italian scholar, Luigi Federico Menabrea.

What Lovelace wrote was much more than just a translation, however. It was a foundation text of modern computing.

When it was published in Scientific Memoirs in 1843, the publisher also gave Lovelace a handful of discrete copies in pamphlet form — and Lovelace duly gave one of these to Dickens.
From calculator to computer
In the mid-19th century, mathematical tables were used for a variety of purposes, from navigation to engineering. Such tables were, however, constructed by hand, a process that was both time-consuming and prone to error. It was in this context that Babbage conceived his Analytical Engine: a mechanical device, with a memory unit, that could perform arithmetical operations quickly and accurately.

Funding was hard to come by in the UK, however (perhaps unsurprisingly, given Babbage envisaged a hulking machine with thousands of cogwheels), so he promoted the idea abroad. In 1842, a seminar in Turin brought him into contact with Menabrea, who wrote a paper on Babbage’s invention.
For the previous few years, Babbage had been exchanging letters with a young mathematician called Ada Lovelace. He was so impressed by her intellect that he dubbed her ‘the enchantress of numbers’.

She, in turn, was sufficiently taken with the Analytical Engine to translate Menabrea’s article into English — adding so many original contributions of her own that her text came in at 20,000 words, compared to Menabrea’s 8,000.

‘While Babbage saw the Analytical Engine as a calculator, Lovelace saw it as the first step towards a programmable computer’
Indeed, according to James Essinger’s biography of Lovelace, A Female Genius, she showed a better grasp of the machine’s implications than either Menabrea or even Babbage himself. Which is to say, where they saw the Analytical Engine as a calculator, she saw it as the first step towards a programmable computer.

It could ‘do whatever we know how to order it to [do]’, she argued, suggesting it might be used for the playing of music or games.

‘Ada understood back in 1843 what a computer was,’ says Essinger. ‘She understood that the machine Babbage had invented could be used for anything. She intuited that linking the real world and abstract mathematics… opened up a whole new realm of science.’

The most famous section of Lovelace’s text is the appendix, Note G, where she set out a complex algorithm by which the machine might function. This is widely regarded today as the first ever computer program.
Alas, no Analytical Engine was ever built. ‘If it had, it would have revolutionised Victorian society,’ says Essinger. Lovelace’s insights were so far ahead of their time, they were lost for a century and only rediscovered in the 1940s, as the first working computers appeared.

The mathematician’s career was tragically short. She passed away in 1852, aged 36. When Dickens visited her on her death bed, she asked him to read the passage of Paul Dombey’s death from his novel, Dombey and Son.

As for his copy of Sketch of the Analytical Engine invented by Charles Babbage... with notes by the translator, Dickens kept it in the library of his country home, Gad’s Hill Place in Kent.

For safekeeping, he had it bound in a volume with 18 other pamphlets on issues of interest to him, from penal reform to child welfare.

It is this volume that is currently being offered for sale — although there’s no doubt about its star document, which unites three great innovators: two in technology, one in literature……………


On June 5, the Vienna Philharmonic resumes performances for a limited live audience, according to social distancing regulations.

Daniel Barenboim and the orchestra perform Mozart’s Piano Concerto in Bb major K. 595 and Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Later, on June 7 and 8, Barenboim gives two solo recitals, performing Beethoven’s Piano Sonatas in E major, Ab major, and C minor.

jueves, 28 de mayo de 2020


 Son casino, ses sublimes vues surplombant la Méditerranée… La Principauté charme depuis des décennies les réalisateurs. À l’image de Claude Lelouch qui y a tourné il y a quelques jours Le Grand rendez-vous, un court-métrage avec le prince Albert II en invité d’honneur. De La Main au collet en 1955 à L'Arnacœur en 2010 en passant par GoldenEye en 1995, retour sur ces films qui ont fait du Rocher le décor de leur intrigue.

Ça tourne à Monaco! On compte plus de 300 films tournés en Principauté. Gage de la fascination qu’exerce ce joyau de la Riviera dans l’imaginaire des cinéastes et des spectateurs. Une filmographie dans laquelle deux thèmes récurrents se distinguent: les jeux au casino et la course automobile.

Cette semaine encore, Claude Lelouch y a mis en boîte Le Grand rendez-vous, inspiré de son court métrage C’était un rendez-vous, réalisé en 1975, dans lequel il pilotait une Mercedes rugissante dans les rues de Paris. Cette fois, c’est le jeune prodige Charles Leclerc qui est au volant d’une spectaculaire Ferrari SF 90 Stradale dans les rues de la Principauté. Le prince Albert assistait de très près à l’événement et devrait même apparaître dans le film. Le souverain a pris place à bord du bolide auprès du jeune pilote…

Les Chaussons rouges (Michael Powell et Emeric Pressburger, 1949)
Tourné en partie à Monaco, ce mélo inoubliable nous conte les destins croisés d’un jeune compositeur et d’une ballerine aux prises avec un impresario impitoyable. Moira Shearer, qui débuta d’ailleurs sa carrière aux ballets de Monte-Carlo, y incarne cette danseuse rêvant d’intégrer une troupe prestigieuse. Si la très longue scène de danse supposée se dérouler dans la salle Garnier a été reconstituée en studio, le film offre aussi de splendides vues extérieures de la Principauté et ces années d’après-guerre.

La main au collet (Alfred Hitchcock, 1955)
Aux origines du mythe. Lorsque Grace Kelly, pas encore princesse, contemple de la corniche la Principauté dont elle sera un jour la souveraine, le film de suspense de sir Alfred Hitchcock prend des allures prémonitoires. Un sommet du glamour hollywoodien en terre européenne, porté par une actrice au charme et à l’élégance suprême et par Cary Grant, idéal dans ce rôle de gentleman cambrioleur à la retraite, découvrant qu’un monte-en-l’air imite ses méthodes pour détrousser de riches vacanciers de la Côte d’Azur. A voir et à revoir.

Amicalement vôtre… (série, 1971-1972)
Intitulée The Persuarders! en version originale, cette série met en scène deux hommes que tout oppose: Dany Wilde (Tony Curtis), l’ex-petit voyou de Brooklyn ayant fait fortune dans le pétrole, et lord Bret Sinclair (Roger Moore), flegmatique héritier britannique pilote de courses. Dès le premier épisode, les deux hommes se font la course sur les hauteurs de la Principauté au volant de leur Dino 246 GT et leur Aston Martin DBS. L’humour chic et voyou des deux protagonistes fait tout le charme de ce programme culte. Et si Roger Moore allait endosser quelques années plus tard le smoking de James Bond, le compositeur du thème de la série n’était autre que John Barry, à qui l’on doit également celui du célèbre agent secret.

Weekend of a Champion (Frank Simon et Roman Polanski, 1972 et 2013)
Revoir ces images du Grand-Prix de Monaco aujourd’hui fait frémir: alors que les bolides frôlent les 300km/h, on y traverse tranquillement la piste, ou l’on se gare sur le bord du circuit (les stands n’existaient pas encore) pour bricoler ces engins au mépris de toute règle de sécurité. Ce stupéfiant documentaire revient sur la carrière du pilote Jackie Stewart à l’occasion d’un week-end de course sur le Rocher. L’homme confie être dyslexique et avoir gagné ses galons de légende de la piste au prix d’efforts surhumains. Une trajectoire d’autant plus émouvante qu’elle se déroule à une époque où à chaque course, ces pilotes défiaient la mort. Les images du Monaco d’alors y sont époustouflantes.

La Coccinelle à Monte-Carlo (Vincent McEveety, 1977)
Un petit bonbon acidulé qui fit le bonheur des enfants dans les années 1970. Depuis 1968, Herbie en vo, ou Choupette en vf, promène sa silhouette ronde aux quatre coins du monde pour des aventures rocambolesques. Un détail qui a son importance: cette Coccinelle semble dotée d’une volonté propre et aide son pilote Jim Douglas à remporter tous les défis. Dans ce troisième épisode de la saga, Choupette –rebaptisée Romeo pour l’occasion– participe à la course Paris-Monte-Carlo alors que le plus gros diamant du monde vient d’être dérobé. Toute ressemblance avec le Corniaud…

Jamais plus jamais (Irvin Kershner, 1983)
Irvin Kershner est devenu célèbre en réalisant L’Empire contre-attaque, le second volet dans l’ordre chronologique de tournage –considéré comme le meilleur– de la saga Star Wars. Il a aussi signé cet épisode "non-officiel" des aventures de James Bond, s’inspirant du roman Opération Tonnerre (qui fit déjà l’objet d’un film en 1965). Si un chapitre entier du film se déroule bien sur la Riviera, son passage à Monaco est aussi bref que savoureux. En effet, le casino où se rend Sean Connery y est rebaptisé "Casino Royale"… D’autres scènes ont été mises en boîte à l’intérieur du casino et à l’Hôtel de Paris.

GoldenEye (Martin Campbell, 1995)
"Bonsoir Pierre, ça va bien?" Douze ans plus tard, James Bond gare à nouveau son Aston Martin DB5 devant le casino de Monte-Carlo. Il a pris cette fois les traits de Pierce Brosnan, lequel prononce cette inoubliable phrase en français à Pierre, le voiturier. Peu avant cette douce soirée, il a été pourchassé sur la corniche par la redoutable Xenia Onatopp au volant de sa Ferrari 355, une agent russe incarnée par Famke Janssen. Un tournage remuant, qui donna des sueurs froides aux autorités monégasques…

Hors de prix (Pierre Salvadori, 2006)
Monaco, ses palaces, son casino, son cadre de rêve… et toutes les lucioles se heurtant à ce mirage inaccessible. Pierre Salvadori tourne en Principauté cette comédie douce-amère, dans laquelle Audrey Tautou, alia Irène, "dame de compagnie" qui charme les milliardaires, apprend tous ses tours de séduction à Jean (Gad Elmaleh), serveur aussi timide qu’ambitieux qu’elle a pris pour un homme fortuné. Il y a du Lubitsch dans cette chronique désenchantée, où il suffit au personnage de Gad Elmaleh d’enfiler un costume griffé Hedi Slimane pour changer de vie. Au crépuscule, Irène se retrouve abandonnée au bord de la piscine de l’établissement de luxe, pressée par des garçons lui présentant une note qu’elle ne peut honorer. Son millionnaire du jour s’est enfui, il ne lui reste que sa serviette, son maillot de bain et une robe trop légère pour affronter le monde. Un film splendide.

L’arnacœur (Pascal Chaumeil, 2010)
Opération séduction! Au Monte-Carlo Bay, Alex (Romain Duris) et son équipe montent un plan pour empêcher Juliette, une belle héritière incarnée par Vanessa Paradis, d’épouser son fiancé anglais à la perfection lassante. Tel est le métier d’Alex: briseur de couples aux règles morales pourtant bien établies. Mais tout s’emballe lorsqu’Alex s’éprend de Juliette. Le regretté Pascal Chaumeil filme amoureusement cette Principauté, écrin de rêve de cette formidable et hilarante comédie romantique aux accents anglo-saxons. Suite au succès du film, la SBM, propriétaire du Monte-Carlo Bay, a d’ailleurs proposé un forfait "L’arnacœur" à ses clients, leur permettant de retracer le parcours d’Alex et Juliette!

Iron Man 2 (Jon Favreau, 2010)
Un Monaco de science-fiction ! Tony Stark, notre héros milliardaire auquel Robert Downey, Jr. prête sa verve gouailleuse, entend prendre part au Grand-Prix de Monaco. C’était sans compter sur l’épouvantable Vanko, incarné par Mickey Rourke, qui taille en pièce les bolides de l’écurie Stark grâce à ses superpouvoirs. A noter également la présence de Scarlett Johansson dans le double rôle de Natasha Romanoff et de la redoutable Veuve noire… Pour les amateurs du genre!

Cloclo (Florent-Emilio Siri, 2012)
Grand styliste, Florent-Emilio Siri a tourné l’une des plus belles scènes de son biopic sur Claude François dans la Salle des Etoile du Sporting Monte-Carlo. Le cinéaste a fait transformer ce lieu mythique le temps d’un concert donné par le chanteur auquel Jérémie Renier prête son étonnante ressemblance. C’est dans cette même salle qu’a lieu chaque année le prestigieux Bal de la Rose. Quant à Claude François, ses liens avec la Principauté sont nombreux: après y avoir séjourné un temps avec sa famille qui avait été expulsée d’Egypte, l’artiste avait fait ses débuts comme percussionniste dans l’orchestre du Sporting Club de Monte-Carlo.

Albert de Monaco  Albert II de Monaco  Cinéma  Grace Kelly

Par Emmanuel Cirodde
Monaco, décor rêvé du 7e artLa princesse Grace de Monaco héroïne du film "La Main au collet" d'Alfred Hitchcock et son partenaire à l'écran l'acteur Cary Grant.


 Hommage à Romy Schneider'
A tribute to a legendary actress, an astonishing natural beauty, the unforgettable Romy Schneider who passed away too soon…

Les choses de la vie - Philippe Sarde
Ennio Morricone - La califfa

Romy Schneider was born on 23 September 1938 in Vienna, Austria into a family of actors. Making her film debut at the age of 15, her breakthrough came two years later in the very popular trilogy Sissi (1955-1957). Her mother, supervising her daughter's career, immediately approved Romy's participation in Christine (1958), the remake of Max Ophüls's Liebelei (1933), where Magda Schneider once starred herself.

During the shooting, she fell in love with her co-star Alain Delon and eventually moved with him to Paris. At that time, she started her international career collaborating with famous directors such as Luchino Visconti and Orson Welles. After Delon had broken up with her in 1964, she married Harry Meyen shortly after. Although she gave birth to a boy, David-Christopher, their relationship was difficult, so they divorced in 1975.

Being unsatisfied with her personal life, she turned to alcohol and drugs, but her cinematic career -especially in France- remained intact. She was the first actress, receiving the new created César Award as "Best Actress" for her role in L’important c’est d’amier (1975). Three years later, she was awarded again for Une historie simple (1978).

After a short marriage to her former secretary Daniel Biasini, being the father of her daughter Sarah Biasini, she suffered the hardest blow of her life when her son was impaled on a fence in 1981. She never managed to recover from this loss and died on 29 May 1982 in Paris. Although it was suggested she committed suicide caused by an overdose of sleeping pills, she was declared to have died from cardiac arrest. – IMDb

Rest in peace Romy Schneider (23 September 1938 – 29 May 1982)


 And, of course, we also remember  magistrate BORSALLINO.

Il Globo Editorial Team

Italy on Wednesday marked the 27th anniversary of the Capaci massacre, in which anti-mafia magistrate Giovanni Falcone was killed along with his wife and three security officers.

Giovanni Falcone. (Photo: ANSA)

On May 23, 1992, Falcone was assassinated in broad daylight when a bomb exploded under the car he was travelling in.

Falcone, who was 53 when he died, spent most of his life trying to fight the mafia, spearheading the so-called “maxi trial” in Palermo in 1986-1987, which led to the conviction of 342 mobsters.

Hitmen used more than 500 kilograms of explosives in the assassination, which was ordered by mafia godfather, Toto Riina, as revenge for Falcone’s attempts to take down their syndicate.

In 2014, four members of the Sicilian mafia were sentenced to between 12 years and life in prison for their role in the attack.

Two months after Falcone was murdered, his friend and fellow anti-mafia judge Paolo Borsellino was killed by another car bomb.

The two men are national heroes who sacrificed their lives in the name of the country’s ongoing attempts to rid itself of organised crime.

Every year, Italian students travel from Civitavecchia, near Rome, to the Sicilian capital of Palermo on the Nave della Legalità (the Legality Ship) as part of an initiative to commemorate the anniversary of Falcone’s death.

Since 2002, the Ministry of Education and the Fondazione Giovanni e Francesca Falcone organise this moving event, involving thousands of students.

This year, the ship departed from Civitavecchia in the presence of Italian President Sergio Mattarella, along with other authoritative figures.

Mattarella said Falcone’s sacrifice “became the engine of the resurgence of our civilization, which gave strength to the effort to combat [the mafia] and make citizens’ duty to do their part to drain the swamps in which the mafia live even more pressing”.

Many events took place in Palermo’s streets and piazze on Wednesday, including a ceremony featuring government ministers, top judges and police officials, and relatives of the victims that was held in the courtroom where the “maxi-trial” took place.

Italian Prime Minister Giuseppe Conte and Interior Minister Matteo Salvini took part in the ceremony.

“Today marks the anniversary of a tragedy and a day of pain,” Conte said.

“Today, we remember those who sacrificed their lives to combat the mafia.”

Mourners united under the “Falcone Tree”, on Via Notarbartolo, at 5:58 pm – the time of the attack – for a minute’s silence.

miércoles, 27 de mayo de 2020


Foto, Alicia Perris


The excellent argentinian conductor and pianist, Daniel Barenboim, celebrated his 50 years on stages with a great concert in his Buenos Aires (Teatro Colón).
He played this sublime page of the Schubert´s production for piano:

"Musical Moment No.3 in F minor Op.34 D.958".

Along with the Impromptus, they are among the most frequently played of all Schubert's piano music, and have been recorded many times. No. 3 in F minor has been arranged by Leopold Godowsky and others.

It has been said that Schubert was deeply influenced in writing these pieces by the Impromptus, Op. 7, of Jan Václav Voříšek (1822).

They were published by Leidersorf in Vienna in 1828, under the title "Six Momens musicals". The correct French words are now usually used  moments (instead of momens), and musicaux (instead of musicals). The sixth number was published in 1824 in a Christmas album under the title Les plaintes d'un troubadour.