Those Who Stay

Umberto Boccioni, study for "Those Who Stay"

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

Looking out along the Ligurian coast in Camogli

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.

Images from business travel trips to Italy

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.

More images of trips to Italy

Sara Turetta and Save the Dogs

Sara Turetta and dogs

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.

Save the Dogs and families

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.

More dogs & their families

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.

Saturday at Carosello

Man with dog in shopping cart in the mall

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.

Via della Spiga

Dog walker with 4 dogs on Via della Spiga in Milan

Everyone knows that Milan is Italy’s fashion capital. And Via della Spiga is Milan’s fashion location. One day as I was making my way from one end to the other while looking for the new Virginia Preo cashmere shop, this guy came zipping past with four dogs. I assume he was a professional dog walker, but then who knows? After all, I’ve been asked the same question myself. In any case, I immediately became the walker stalker and followed them. What a variety!

I suppose not a lot of women (or anyone really) would have abandoned Via della Spiga in Milan to follow a pack of briskly walking dogs. But in doing so I probably saved myself a lot of money! Well, I’ll just have to go back…

Dog walker with 4 dogs in sequence

A Stylish Couple

One Saturday afternoon in the piazza outside the Duomo di Milano, this particular pair struck me as the perfect picture of everything I envy about the quintessential Italian lifestyle. Relaxed, confident, stylish (how do they do it?). My jaw drops and I imagine this faithful dog rescuing stranded climbers in the Alps on a regular basis (of course she does!). This woman is probably a designer or maybe she has a vineyard somewhere or both (I’m sure that’s it). I stand there wondering if I could ever wear lavender All-Stars as well as she does (and why didn’t it occur to me to wear lavender All-Stars that day?).

As I slyly continue to observe, I see that the champion Alpine rescue dog has taken notice of something and her gaze is fixed upon it: an equally stylish significant other (the heir to a textile empire?) has emerged from a nearby museum (was he dropping off a statue they no longer had room for?) and she goes directly to him. He kneels to greet her and fluffs the fur around her neck, scratches her ears. She’s in heaven. The woman joins them and they stroll out of the piazza together (probably to return to the vineyard or a weekend house on Lake Como).

Imagination aside, the whole little vignette of this couple with their lovable dog was a beautiful sight to see that day. And all I really know for sure is that I was grateful to watch.