When we think of linguistic influences in Australian culture we often think of the languages brought to us by migrants from foreign lands.
I remember the scene vividly. He lay motionless on his back. Blood streaming from a number of gunshot wounds. He stares blankly back at us. Lifeless. Dead. The year was 2008 and ‘Underbelly’ was on our TV screens.
A few weeks ago, at the Italian Institute of Culture of Melbourne, a group of key stakeholders met a delegation of members of the Italian Senate to discuss the current state of Italian language education in Victoria. The delegation was accompanied by the Italian Consul-General Dr. Marco Maria Cerbo and comprised Sen. Claudio Micheloni, Sen. Francesco Giacobbe, Sen. Pippo Pagano and Sen. Vito Rosario Petrocelli.
The man sat in front of me, coffee in hand, is not the man I have seen in action. Today he is poised, articulate and composed. With grace and unabridged honesty he recounts the ups and downs of his life journey. So far, in all my encounters with him, I have been his audience: I sit gripped, hanging on to every word.
To know Stefano Costabile’s work is to know a mastermind in action. Likened to the Mad Hatter in Lewis Carroll’s imaginative world of Alice in Wonderland, Stefano is indeed mad about hats. With a career spanning decades, and with work gracing various industries and fields, Stefano has proven that he has what it takes to lead the millinery industry and set a new standard in functional Italian fashion. As it goes, there is certainly more to hats than meets the eye: medium, design, artisan technique and styling.
Five years ago I was diagnosed with an allergy to wheat: this was heartbreaking news. In a very short amount of time I had to re-train my brain to overlook the yeasty, crusty temptation, and seek guilty starchy pleasures in other forms; needless to say it took its toll. How ridiculous! – you might say. Take bread away from an Italian, however, and the situation gets serious.
Following in his nonno’s and father’s footsteps, the nineteen year old Jack Silvagni promises to add luster to the name of a legendary family of Italian-Australian footballers
On a recent trip to the US I was humbled to explore Ellis Island’s National Museum of Immigration. The harsh conditions of the New York winter melted away as I stepped inside the warm and welcoming lobby. After catching my breath, I stopped to admire the world I had stepped into. Millions of hopeful immigrants had to withstand gruelling transit conditions with no guarantee of security in the US.
March of 2014 signalled the beginning of a new and exciting life for the talented Erika Lancini, her husband Manuel, and their three daughters, Martina, Alexandra and Maya. After long discussions and reflections about what a future remaining in Italy would look like, they packed up their life in Brescia and moved to Melbourne; a move neither regrets.
Do you ever hear voices in your head? I do. All the time. I hear two. One voice, usually the voice of reason and control, speaks English. The other, the voice that pipes up in moments of extreme emotion and passion, speaks Italian.
Andrea Cozzolino’s passion for the art of pizza making – and yes, it is quite an art – began in Naples during his school-age years. Andrea was just twelve years old. It all started quite modestly, working at a local family-run pizzeria, making simple pizzas, preparing ingredients and feeding the staff.
The story of a Victorian country girl of Italian descent who is developing a career as a professional player in women’s Australian football and is a staunch promoter of gender equality in all sports.
In his 1964 masterpiece The Italians, Luigi Barzini, in his infinite wisdom and acute social awareness, states: “In the heart of every man, wherever he is born, whatever his education and tastes, there is one small corner that is Italian”. What else could explain your need to pick up this edition of Segmento? Everyone can connect with, even in the smallest way, the Italian way of life, culture and language.
