Those Who Stay

Posted on September 22, 2012 by Erica Preo

On my last trip to Milan, a local friend suggested that I visit the Museo del Novecento which is located just a few steps from the Duomo. So I did, and I highly recommend it to anyone that would like to spend a few hours looking at some wonderful 20th century works of art. It’s also a beautiful building, with an interesting layout that includes a winding climb and lots of escalators. In fact, the building’s layout was so interesting that I had to get help a few times from the kind security people on a couple of the floors (but what else is new?).

One piece that stopped me in my tracks (causing me to hover around it for so long that I drew attention from the security people) is this one titled Those Who Stay by Italian artist Umberto Boccioni. It’s sort of one of three pieces that make up the series titled States of Mind about parting ways at a train station. And when I say “sort of” it’s because this is actually a study and not the finished version of Those Who Stay, but I like it better. Don’t get me wrong, I like the Futurist movement as much as the next guy with all of those geometric shapes and Cubist flavor, but this one seems much more compelling to me for a specific reason: it oozes heaviness and sadness. The other two pieces in the States of Mind series are titled Those Who Go and The Farewells.

The reason I’m drawn to this painting is because I’ve always hated goodbyes, and I think it captures that sadness completely. I’m talking about final goodbyes and the emptiness you feel when your loved one is no longer in this world. For me and a lot of other people, the loss of a pet has the same heart-ripped-out pain and devastation and the only thing that helps me heal is to remember that I’m not alone in this. In this painting, all of the left behind streaky figures share the sadness of loss and goodbye together. It’s amazing how art can affect you that way whether you like it or not, pulling you headfirst into a sea of emotion with a language of its own, but without any words. Like a sad, sad song that matches just the way you feel inside, you can gaze into a painting like this whenever you need to and just feel sad because you must.

One of my dogs isn’t well. His name is Nicholas, and I haven’t featured him on the blog yet because he’s been declining since I started it in July and it’s just been too hard. I don’t know how long he has left, I don’t think there’s anything else I can do, and I’m facing that awful decision. But one thing I do know is at some point I will be spending a lot of time gazing into Boccioni’s Those Who Stay.

Visit Museo del Novecento.
This link will take you to MoMA’s Collection page, where you can see the Boccioni series (click NEXT when you get there to see all three paintings in sequence).
A good article on Umberto Boccioni can be found here.

The In-Betweens

Posted on September 13, 2012 by Erica Preo

It’s about that time. The time when I get all of my big ideas and crossed fingers (so to speak) packed up for the next trip to Italy for Pantofola. All I have to do is keep my eye on the horizon for inspiration, just like every other explorer ever, reminding myself that anything is possible even when you’re a small entrepreneur with a carry-on bag full of crossed fingers.

Certainly having your own business has its perks, everybody knows that. But when that business involves regular travel to a place like Italy, those perks are pretty darn perky. Sure, there is a certain amount of stress with running around, business discussions, putting your best foot forward and feeling like you’re always on the mark. That’s all pretty exhilarating. But there are also the in-between moments and experiences, and that is the best part.

Sometimes you can capture those moments in pictures or videos, but not always. It might just be the scent of freshly baked chocolate croissants or a few minutes of eavesdropping on gossip in a café. Or a brief but memorable interaction. On a recent rail journey, I sat in my window seat dreading the moment I’d have to get my bag down from the overhead rack because it was pretty heavy. And it’s not that I couldn’t get it down myself, but I figured it wouldn’t be very graceful and I didn’t want to whack anyone. As we approached my station, I stepped over the guy next to me and stood in the aisle, trying to keep my balance. When I felt fairly stable, I reached above but suddenly a guy on the other side of the aisle (who looked a lot like Viggo Mortensen) looked up from his phone, jumped up and got the bag down for me safely. Embarrassed at the weight of the bag, I thanked him and apologized about it, but of course he said the perfect suave Italian guy thing in the perfect nonchalant manner: “It was my pleasure to help you, so it was no problem.” Swoon. Oh. Okay. Well, that I’ll remember. No photo necessary.

Thanks, I’m Good Now

Posted on August 24, 2012 by Erica Preo

Note: I’ve noticed that posts about travel, Italy, and dogs are pretty popular (yay!). Because a lot of my travel is to Italy for the business I’ve started that’s about dogs, I decided to do some posts with adventures as I follow along this entrepreneurial path. You can read a little more about Pantofola on the About page.

Being an entrepreneur is a tricky thing. Trying to do business with Italian manufacturers and suppliers when you’re a small little upstart, that’s a tricky thing, too. Oh, and not being fluent in Italian is also a tricky thing. Okay, so it’s all tricky. And when I say tricky, that’s a nice way of saying tough, but with an added measure of “I can do it!” oomph. So with a healthy dose of “I can do it!” in my back pocket, I keep going. Plus, by choosing Italy for manufacturing I’m hoping that if an emotional outburst should occur down the road, it’s more likely to be accepted by Italians than another not-so-expressive culture.

One evening after a very long day at a leather trade show I came close. I climbed onto a packed bus with all the other exhausted attendees heading back to the city center. I didn’t have a ticket, and the machine onboard wasn’t working so I decided I should do the moral thing and hop off. I know what you’re thinking: that was stupid. And it was, because I ended up in a zone without many pedestrians, traffic, other buses, street lights, and everything was closing for the night. Oh, I should have taken karate. The other problem is that in Italy you can’t just hail a cab. Well, you can try, but they won’t stop and you end up being the crazy lady flapping your arms around like an angry penguin.

Now I’m not saying Bologna is a bad city but bad things happen everywhere, it was dark and my imagination was in overdrive. I walked and walked, trying to figure out what options I had. Why am I here? Eventually I came to a corner store (also closing up for the night) and saw this loyal dog sitting there waiting patiently for someone inside. Immediately I felt relaxed, calmed, comforted, safe. I was good now. Somehow just by seeing this calm dog I was able to take a deep breath and think more clearly. But not only did the sight of this dog put an end to my panic, it also served as a potent reminder for why I started this business in the first place: the human + canine bond. Thankful for the reminder, I kept walking and one street over I found a bus stop with a map and hopped on the next bus.

Step Right This Way

Posted on August 23, 2012 by Erica Preo

Recently in Florence, Italy as I was rushing like a crazy person to a meeting, I came across this goofy dog on the sidewalk. I didn’t see anyone with her, so of course I had to stop because I thought she was lost (although I had no idea what I was going to do about it). After I stood there for a minute or so, she laid down and flopped open, what a ham! Then I realized (doh!) I was right in front of the fancy Lord Bau dog boutique. So I guess her job was to work the sidewalk, model stuff and look charming to lure people inside. Yes. I went in. But that got me thinking: if a women’s boutique did the same thing…sending out a sweet young thing to wiggle and work the sidewalk. Um, no. I guess then it would seem more like a strip club (or worse). Yep, dogs get away with everything.

England’s Cecil Aldin

Posted on August 19, 2012 by Erica Preo

I love to walk and wander around cities when I’m traveling because I often find wonderful things by chance. If I had read about a shop or something in a guidebook or magazine, I would probably spend most of the day pulling my hair out trying to find the place and be disappointed when I finally arrived. It might even be closed (doggone pet boutique in Milan). Or there would be no parking because I didn’t know it was market day (entire city of Siena). Even then, recovery is possible because other things can be discovered like an unexpected shop or a fantastic hidden-gem-of-a-locals-restaurant and hotel like Il Ceppo (see ya later, Siena). So, it’s taken a while but now I know: over-planning is overrated and chance encounters are best.

Example: seven years ago, I was wandering around in London when I came across one of those nifty London shops tucked away on one those nifty London streets whose specialty is antique prints. Not expensive prints, but old engravings and other cellophane-wrapped things in bins organized by subject matter. I bought three small prints that day featuring a cute dog because, well, I was smitten. They were only £6 each, but I could tell they were actually old and chopped out of a book. But what book?

It turns out, the book is called A Dog Day, written by Walter Emanuel and illustrated by Cecil Aldin. Okay. It’s basically a day in the life of this cute but mischievous dog that gets away with everything and comes out smelling like a rose (Ferris Bueller?). This book has been reprinted several times over the years, but I doubt that a reprint would make me happy for the same reason my sister refuses to watch colorized old movies, Mr. Ted Turner: it just won’t be the same. I wouldn’t mind reading the whole day’s account though, because what I’ve read so far is pretty good. From the backs of my prints here’s a little disjointed sample of the story, complete with time stamps:

So I end up being even more smitten than before. The thick paper stock feels special, the letterpress printing is wonderful, the metal typesetting’s imperfections make it perfect. I would say this find was a happy accident indeed, because while all of Great Britain has loved him forever and a day, I had never heard of Cecil Aldin or seen his wonderful illustrations. Mr. Aldin’s dogs Cracker (the Bull Terrier) and Micky (the Irish Wolfhound) are a famous pair that he featured in his popular book Sleeping Partners and as models for many other illustrations. Royal Doulton and other prominent English manufacturers have used his illustrations for a range of products over the years and these items are now hugely collectible. All of Cecil Aldin’s engraving plates were destroyed in World War II, so original prints are rare and have skyrocketed in value. I’m not a collector of anything (well, except dog hair) so I’m pretty happy with my three little prints, even if they were chopped out of a book. Unraveling the mystery of what I bought that day in London has been fun and I definitely plan to keep my eyes open for more things from one of England’s best loved illustrators, Mr. Cecil Charles Windsor Aldin.

If you’d like to read more about Cecil Aldin collectibles, this article seems very helpful.

Sara Turetta and Save the Dogs

Posted on August 14, 2012 by Erica Preo

It takes a very special type of person that can stay in the trenches, witnessing the constant bombardment of cruelty and injustice inflicted upon innocent creatures who want nothing more than to be safe and loved. A modern day St. Francis of Assisi, Sara Turetta is just this person and she’s my first “Shining Armor” post.

Sara is from Milan, Italy and in 2001 she went to Cernavoda, Romania when contacted by an Italian family living there for her help. The streets were full of dead bodies because local authorities were poisoning the strays by the hundreds, and an agreement was made to stop the killings if organized neutering and spaying programs were implemented. Sara had experience volunteering with groups at home and answered the call. Unfortunately, the existing association there was not interested in being managed by someone else, and so a new operation was started with Sara Turetta at the helm. With clearly established priorities of cleanliness, hygiene, efficiency, and strong leadership, Sara left her cushy ad agency position in Milan and hasn’t looked back. While I can imagine it has been a very sad and difficult road, there are thousands of victories for her with the happy dogs she has saved and the grateful families throughout Europe who have adopted them.

In Cernavoda today, Save the Dogs continues to offer a spay/neuter clinic for strays and through partner organizations transports them out and into new homes in other European countries. A free clinic is available to residents who cannot afford treatment for their pets as well. To combat the overpopulation within other parts of Romania, a mobile clinic travels the country to provide spay/neuter surgeries in these regions and they will soon reach 9000 in mobile sterilizations alone.

In addition to all of this work, Save the Dogs is playing a role in the welfare of donkeys and horses in Romania, animals that are also often cruelly treated and seen as disposable. Therapy programs have been started for children with special needs, giving these animals some joy, purpose and a brighter future. Also, educational programs have been implemented in these regions in Romania to teach school children the importance of proper animal stewardship and care. All of these projects are investments that will certainly pay off with future generations.

At the Italian Embassy in Bucharest last month, Ambassador Mario Cospito conferred the award of “Cavaliere dell’Ordine della Stella d’Italia” (Knight of the Order of the Star of Italy) to Sara Turetta. It’s the first time that someone involved in animal care and defense has received such an important award, which that in itself is a true honor. I’m sure Sara Turetta was pleased to be recognized, but I suspect just seeing photos of happy faces to which she’s given the gift of life warms her heart even more.

If you’d like more information, or to donate or adopt, you can visit their website Save the Dogs or contact them at their offices. In Italy: Via Pareto 36, 20156 Milano, Tel +39 0239445900 Fax +39 0230133300. In Romania: Str. Medgidiei, Bloc H4, Sc. C, Et. 3 – Ap. 52, 905200 Cernavoda (CT), Tel/Fax +40 241235081, or by email info@savethedogs.eu.

Save the Dogs partners include: Brigitte Bardot Foundation, DogRescue Sweden, Friends of Homeless Dogs, Hundhjalpen, Protezione Animali di Bellinzona and The Donkey Sanctuary.

Two Westies in Perugia

Posted on August 7, 2012 by Erica Preo

Well, just when you thought you’d seen everything…

Two gorgeous (and rather large) Westies in Perugia, Italy, by the incredibly talented Mr. Mark Ulriksen. Don’t you just love the scale of these two guys, and that the people are just going about their business? I love it.

You can read my previous post about Mr. Ulriksen here or visit his site here.

Photographer and Author Priscilla Rattazzi

Posted on July 26, 2012 by Erica Preo

I subscribe to too many magazines and I can’t stop. The print kind. It takes me a while to flip through them (especially those fall Vogue phone books) but sometimes I’ll commit to going through a stack and just flip away, tearing out articles or images and putting them into stacks like an old-school Pinterest. But it’s not Pinterest, so that means I usually have a stack of articles and images to go through after I finish my flipping. But I work quickly, I’m like that animal that’s attracted to shiny things and only shiny things. With eyes zig-zagging and darting plus some really heavy editing, I’m usually in pretty good shape and the stacks end up being pretty minimal. Things come to a screeching halt, however, when I see a dog. Or anything Italian. Or something really beautiful. When it’s all three, well forget it. At that point I’ve found the shiniest thing of all and it’s time out.

This happened to me a while back as I raced through the December 2006 issue of Town & Country when I came across an article about celebrated photographer and author Priscilla Rattazzi. For many years she worked as a fashion photographer in New York (in those Studio 54 days), later focusing on photography for her books: Georgica Pond, Luna & Lola, Children, and Best Friends. Such a beautiful collection of images, and what a life! Her uncle was head of Fiat and icon-in-general Gianni Agnelli, and everyone knows the Agnellis are pretty much the Kennedys of Italy. So just drinking in the private moments she’s captured over the years is really a wonderful treat. Lucky for me, she loves dogs and her 1989 book Best Friends is page after page of them with their mover-and-shaker owners. In the above photo, her uncle Gianni Agnelli is shown in his circa 1980 pin-striped slacks and tie (after a long day at the office?) sharing one of those private moments with his Siberian Husky called Dyed Eyes. I don’t know about you, but for me, seeing a captain of industry like Gianni Agnelli enjoying a moment like this with his dog is pretty darn endearing. And Mr. Agnelli also wrote the introduction for the book.

One of my other favorites from Best Friends is the photo below featuring Nini Guatti with his dog Andiamo. Such a great image, captured at the precise moment. I think I’m especially drawn to it because my dad often dressed this way and I really miss him, and what’s better than a dog called Andiamo (let’s go)?!

Priscilla Rattazzi has done a wonderful job of chronicling, in both pictures and words, the relationship between her family’s Golden Retriever and their miniature Dachshund in her 2010 book Luna & Lola. The images are warm in composition and reproduction, the book’s cover is a lovely matte stock complete with slipcover so it feels especially “gifty”. It’s a gorgeous book, certainly, but also an incredibly moving portrait of two dogs, the family that loved them and the time they shared together. Sadly, Luna passed away just before the book was completed, and the book includes a truly touching eulogy written by Ms. Rattazzi’s husband Chris Whittle at the end. Luna enjoyed her life with Lola and the rest of her family, and that really comes across on every page. As with all of Priscilla Rattazzi’s work, I really appreciate having the experience of taking a look. And it gets better: a portion of the proceeds from Luna & Lola will be donated to the Animal Rescue Fund of the Hamptons in Wainscott, New York.

For details on the book Luna & Lola, click here.
For more information on Priscilla Rattazzi, including many press articles and gallery information, click here.
To watch a video of a recent talk by Priscilla Rattazzi at the George Eastman House in Rochester, New York click here.
Gianni Agnelli with Dyed Eyes and Nini Guatti with Andiamo courtesy and copyright Priscilla Rattazzi.

Erica Preo is CEO & Creative Director of Pantofola, pure luxury Italian goods for dogs.

Saturday at Carosello

Posted on July 24, 2012 by Erica Preo

So what’s the number one thing you shouldn’t forget to pack when you travel? A charger for your phone. Guess what I forgot?

And what that meant was I had to jump into my little car and find the Apple Store on the outskirts of Milan (which happens to be closer to the town of Gorgonzola, so it’s a wonder I didn’t just keep driving there instead) as soon as possible. But there I was at a shopping mall—quelle horreur!—on a rainy Saturday morning with residual jet lag and a flat phone on my second day in Italy. The good thing about that: Italy follows the universal rule of shopping malls which dictates that all patrons walk around like zombies, so I didn’t stand out one bit. Once I’d made my purchase and breathed a huge sigh of relief (thank you, proliferation of Apple), I was free to explore Carosello in the suburbs with the rest of the regular folks hiding out from the rain.

Now before you start to feel too sorry for me, remember I’m still in Italy so even in an indoor shopping mall, things are generally better. Like the food. And the people watching. Or, dog watching as it were. As I sat there enjoying my lunch, I happened to see this guy with his beautiful golden retriever in a shopping cart, semi-tending to his daughter in the fire department jeep thing. I can tell you that the dog received much more attention from passersby than the child, which was entertaining to watch. In any case, I sat there sipping my cappuccino taking it all in and thinking: somewhere in this giant mall there’s a lucky lady getting to shop freely while her husband is not only not rushing her but he’s also looking after the kid and the dog.

Boh of San Gimignano

Posted on July 23, 2012 by Erica Preo

“Boh!” is what the owner of our agriturismo replied when I asked what was the name of their resident dog. I didn’t think she meant “Bo” or “Beau”, just because of the way she said it: hands on her hips, a shrug, raised eyebrows and “Boh!” like she was spitting something. So I asked her what it meant exactly and it’s one of those sound-words, for lack of a better term, that means “I don’t know.” She wasn’t saying she didn’t know, she was saying his name is “Boh” and what it means is “I don’t know.”

Okay, I got it. And as the week went on, it was apparent the name fit him pretty well. But then, maybe not. One day during breakfast he pushed his way into our room, jumped on our bed and rolled around for a while (on top of my white t-shirt). Another time he borrowed my husband’s Costa del Mar sunglasses for a while and we eventually found them near his doghouse. Luckily they were inside their bullet-proof case and now the teeth marks it bears serves as a hilarious reminder.

Once after a long day of walking around Volterra, we returned to find Boh lounging poolside on a chaise (so much work to do, finding mischief among the guests, hanging around the kitchen, etc.). After a few minutes the resident one-eyed orange cat showed up and Boh just wasn’t having it, giving him the cold shoulder in stages.

If you’d like to visit Boh (or the one-eyed orange cat), I must warn you to bring pants with an elastic waistband. Dinners at the agriturismo are served at a long table family-style where the food doesn’t stop coming, and they don’t take no for an answer (I’m not kidding). The owners are nice, they make their own products there (no, you don’t have to help) like olive oil, saffron, cheese and wine. So if you’re looking for one of those friendly places where you end up meeting a lot of great people from all over the world (the three wild girls from Poland who live in Canada, the mother and daughter from Hawaii, the water polo player and his medical student girlfriend from Milan, the Australian couple with the woman who worked on Happy Feet, you get the idea), this is one of them.

And of course there’s Boh. But I’m convinced he’s a lot smarter than he’s letting on.

Agriturismo information: Il Vecchio Maneggio, Loc. Sant’Andrea 22 – 53037 San Gimignano Italy. Tel & Fax: +39 0577 950232. E-mail: info@ilvecchiomaneggio.com

Dogs Make Everything Better

Tag Archives: Italy

Those Who Stay

The In-Betweens

Thanks, I’m Good Now

Step Right This Way

England’s Cecil Aldin

Sara Turetta and Save the Dogs

Two Westies in Perugia

Photographer and Author Priscilla Rattazzi

Saturday at Carosello

Boh of San Gimignano

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