A silly question, I know. Who would pay to see them?
Unless it involved something quite entertaining with a donkey and maybe a couple of tame bears, that is?
It looks like Canada doesn’t have a lock on useless and mendacious politicians, as the Italian Minister of Culture has approved a plan to send the Annunciation, one of Leonardo da Vinci‘s early masterpieces across the ocean to Japan in order to…um…foster international goodwill and…possibly…just possibly…make quite a raging snotload of money for the Italian government; this despite the very real danger to the irreplaceable 600-year-old painting.
Because, of course, Japan does not have the Internets.
And Japan does not have books.
And Japan does not have secure, online ordering.
And Japan does not have any way of shipping people to the mainland, whence they can make their way Italy-ward. That path has never been trod.
Look, I’m all about the democratization of information and the removal of class and economic barriers to the appreciation of art, but at a certain point of veniality and political expedience you make the survival of art itself subservient to political means, and this attempt to move an irreplaceable masterwork is well past that point. There is no reason to toss this into a crate, however high-tech a crate, and ship it to Japan except to make money and connections in high places.
The art experts oppose the move. Self-serving politicians support it. Take your pick of two admittedly distasteful teams. At least there’s one senator in Rome who remembers how to behave: he’s chained himself to the pillars of the Uffizi until the shipment is cancelled.
An Italian senator chained himself to a column near the gates of the Uffizi museum Monday to protest the loan of Leonardo da Vinci‘s “Annunciation” for a show at Japan’s National Museum in Tokyo.
The “Annunciation” is one of Leonardo‘s early works, painted between 1472-1475 when the master was in his early 20s. It depicts the archangel Gabriel revealing to the Virgin Mary that she is pregnant.
The 15th-century masterpiece will be shown in Tokyo from March 20 through June 17 as part of “Italian Spring,” a series of events promoting Italian culture and products.
In protesting the loan, Sen. Paolo Amato said it exposes a priceless masterpiece to unnecessary risk and belittles its significance by using it in a commercial event…
…Acidini also said the box carrying the painting was safe and equipped with special sensors that signal alterations in the conditions or internal crashes. The system has to be switched off during the flight but can be used to monitor the painting during road transportation…
Because nothing bad ever happens in-flight.
If you can’t bloody well afford to go to the Uffizi and see the work where it is, you shouldn’t demand that it be shipped over the ocean just so you can eyeball it, particularly when there are giclee prints that the average post-prandial eye can’t distinguish from original vision in the first place.
If you can travel, do. If you can read, do. If you can write to Rutelli and say your piece, in whatever language, I encourage you to do so. The solid reassurances he’s given that the crate will be monitored add up to nothing more than an elaborate, “When something goes wrong we’ll be the first to know!” and when has this ever been enough, when dealing with politicians looking for the main chance?
Dick Cheney has a pacemaker: you don’t see him relying on a stethoscope.
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
Don't keep it to yourself!
In the course of a federal racketeering investigation, FBI agents and prosecutors received court authorization to wiretap the home telephone of Federico “Fritzy” Giovanelli, a Genovese crime family soldier. The feds hoped to hear Fritzy discussing mob business with fellow New York wiseguys, conversations that would then form the basis for a RICO prosecution against Giovanelli and Co. As it turned out, during the six months the FBI was listening, Fritzy was fairly careful — there was little talk of mayhem and only occasionally did he slip and refer to his criminal enterprises (and then it was often just about his gambling operation).
But while the tapes do not contain the sort of reckless chatter that sent John Gotti away for life, they’re remarkable for the funny, profane, and whimsical conversations Fritzy had with his Mafia cohorts, namely Frank “Frankie California” Condo, a fellow Genovese soldier. Like two old hens, Frank and Fritzy would gab daily about life’s rich pageant, their conversations a stream-of-consciousness potpourri. While most men their age were out working, the duo would convene on the telephone in the early afternoon — both speaking from their homes — and launch into wildly veering conversations. A typical 15-minute chat could touch on sex, work, girlfriends, vitamins, movies, enlarged hearts, cholesterol counts, and marital strife. Peppered with malaprops and featuring Frank and Fritzy’s Central Casting voices, the tapes are a raucous, slice-of-life look at two hoodlums.
raincoaster 