Saturday, September 02, 2006

A NIGHT OUT IN SCIACCA


Happy Labor Day! To those of you who still work, those of us who are retired appreciate all of your efforts. Last night in your honor (not really), we went out on the town.
Actually, it was our 4th anniversary of living in Sciacca. We had our first surprise when the parking lot that has been closed for 2 years was open! What a shock! It had been closed soon after the main piazza in town, Piazza Scandagliata, was finished with its resurfacing. Maybe you can remember the story of that ill-fated surfacing job, the horror of the gorgeous marble that broke into pieces when the huge Carnavale carts rode over its pristine finish for the first time? Because the job was commissioned in one administration and finished in another, it was all an unresolved political debate for quite awhile, especially since the job was not done in time for Carnavale, which was then held in May instead of February.
Anyway, the lot was finally done two years later! So we parked and followed the haunting pink/blue sky and the light of the half moon to a few favorite locations. Our second surprise was that we saw that the refurbishing of the exterior of the Church of the Carmines was also done and the scaffolding finally taken down. What a gorgeous church that is, the first time I was ever in it, and good for us that we got in before the janitor banged his keys on the pews to kick everyone out. Then we crossed the street to Santa Margarita church, which frequently has art shows, but last night we were able to see it empty in all its beauty. We noticed from the exterior that the gargoyles for water drainage are really canons. What a contrast the church is to the modern apartment building right behind it!
We made our way over to the performance space of “T Fazello” and saw a local woman’s art show. Her work was bright and her themes were very local and she was pleased as could be by our attention. She insisted on taking OUR picture after I took hers in front of a painting.
Wandering down the streets in the pleasant evening coolness, we next went to La Grotta, a favorite pizzeria that we discovered with Gabriella and Fabrizio and that introduced me to ciliegina pizza. That is pizza with sauce, rich buffalo mozzarella, and halves of sweet cherry tomatoes. It is incredibly simple and good. But last night, we got our third surprise and it was not a good one. La Grotta was just not in good form. Steve hypothesizes that they must have changed owners again. Whatever, it was not packed as usual, and service was incredibly slow and our food was cold. The worst was that the arancine and calzone could have been made in Brooklyn and flown over. They just were not up to snuff. Disappointed, we walked the piazza like the other 100 or so people there and waited for the 9:30 concert to start.
The jazz concert we wanted to attend was held in the Ex College of the Jesuits, or town hall, across from the main piazza. Now IT was swaddled in scaffolding and the huge complex looked like a present from the outside. On the inside, a stage and about 300 chairs had been set up and we sat and waited for the inevitably late performance and the antics of Sicilians on display at a public event.
It is never boring to watch, or to look around the ancient quadrangle that once instructed young priests, but now was the venue for music, drama, and the town’s politics. Sicilians swagger around here during the day, bluffing their political opponents, vying for positions of power or simply to get something done, like a permit acquired or a document stamped. At night at concerts like this, they head for the front seats that say “reservato” (even we could figure this out), hesitate, then look around to see if anyone will enforce this rule. Or maybe they are looking around for people they know who reserved it for them? At any rate, some shrug their shoulders and sit, only to be glared at by the performers’ family members. I noticed a few leave once the glaring got so bad. But they always try, and they never are shy about strutting to the front of a packed auditorium.
At any rate, the quartet that performed consisted of a drummer, 2 guitars, and a singer. Before the REAL performance, a little bitty kid got on the drum set and wailed! We were astounded. But the actual performance was kind of stale, and the singer sang American jazz standards in English without knowing what the hell she was singing about, and then tried to describe the songs in Italian afterwards. Most jazz standards are about some kind of love, usually unrequited, so it got a little boring to the audience. We left after an hour or so. The crowd in the piazza had thickened on this balmy night and the temperature had actually dropped into the 70’s. It was a bit chilly driving home with the top down, but we didn’t mind. Happy Anniversary, Sciacca!

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