For a while now, circling around in my head has been the most famous phrase from The Diary of a young girl, by Anne Frank, which bit by bit, our teacher read to us at primary school; the size of each day’s piece depending on the irregular flow of the author, so typical of a diary. During those days in May, silence surrounded her voice like a light mist, as we sprawled across our desks to listen:
È un gran miracolo che io non abbia rinunciato a tutte le mie speranze perché esse sembrano assurde e inattuabili. Le conservo ancora, nonostante tutto, perché continuo a credere nell'intima bontà dell'uomo. Mi è impossibile costruire tutto sulla base della morte, della miseria, della confusione. Vedo il mondo mutarsi lentamente in un deserto, odo sempre più forte l'avvicinarsi del rombo che ucciderà noi pure, partecipo al dolore di milioni di uomini, eppure quando guardo il cielo, penso che tutto si volgerà nuovamente al bene, che anche questa spietata durezza cesserà, che ritorneranno l'ordine, la pace e la serenità.
[It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart. I simply can't build my hopes on a foundation of confusion, misery, and death. I see how the world slowly becoming a desert, I hear the approaching thunder that, one day, will destroy us too, I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that this cruelty too shall end, and that peace & tranquility will return once again.]
If I were you, at this point I would be asking what I was getting at: amongst all this song and dance about charm, relaxation, luxury and wellbeing from a blog that is essentially about tourism you would expect just about anything, except an opening paragraph that refers to Anne Frank. Perhaps I should be boasting about aperitifs by the side of the pool, horse rides on the seashore or the paragliding courses. Instead I’ve chosen to tell you about people and examples of the unyielding passion I come across everyday whilst doing this job. Since I was little, the words of Anne Frank have always made me think that faith in others should go without saying, in the sense that, one should initially put their trust in others and only cease to do so when they feel they have been let down. Otherwise it creates distrust in one another and things will never improve. I realise that the analogy with Anne Frank’s longing for hope is bold to say the least, but be patient: this is the lesson I learnt at the age of nine and I’m not letting it go.
A few days ago, for example, my friend (Daniela Giardinieri, Travel & Tourism Consultant at Paradise Possible) and I went to Sarnano to interview Alessandro Delpriori, who together with Francesca Coltrinari is a curator of the exhibition Vittore Crivelli - Da Venezia alle Marche [from Venice to Le Marche]. I woke up that morning feeling deplorably lazy, but gradually the day took a turn for the better, escalating towards an energetic climax. The car journey with Daniela - one of the most enthusiastic people I have ever met - was enough to remind me that at my age, tiredness should not be an issue. And if that wasn’t enough to wake me from my slumber then the arrival into Sarnano certainly was. The city is stunning, with its amber bricks shining in the light of the magnificent sun, surrounded by the green of the mountains which provide protection without imprisonment. In Piazza Alta, which the Palazzo del Popolo – the venue for the exhibition – looks out onto, dozens of swallows paint the sky with circles, offering their own interpretation The Dance by Matisse. We barely saw a soul as we travelled through the medieval alleyways, and yet judging by the way in which the flowers were arranged in vases on windowsills and the authentic cooking aromas that lay in wait around each corner, I realised that there was certainly life. It’s just that it presents itself in its own discreet way, which is typical of some of the villages in our magnificent region.
The meeting with Delpriori represented the peak of the climax I spoke of earlier and is responsible for my Pindaric flight in the direction of Anne Frank. People that manage to convey to you an exuberant passion about what they do, give the world hope. If indeed mistrust is contagious, so too are passion and trust but to an even greater extent. One must never stop believing in the human qualities of those around them, from which all the other virtues, primarily the professional ones, derive. The Vittore Crivelli exhibition was conceived with true passion and generosity. The young curator opened it just for us despite it was closed to the public that day. The attention to detail is striking, from the organisation of the room and the paintings combinations to the ideas of philological reflection about the art that come to you with every step. The affection with which it has been curated shines from Delpriori’s eyes and from the willingness with which, at my simple request to take a tour of the exhibition after the interview, he offered himself as the guide. Approaching each artwork, he patiently revealed the secrets of a cultural project that not only values the artistic heritage of Le Marche, but also the region in its entirety. In fact it’s no accident, as you will hear in a moment, that Sarnano was chosen as the venue for the exhibition.
But I don’t want to tell you too much, so I will let Delpriori himself do the talking:
Meeting with Alessandro Delpriori, curator of the exhibition on Vittore Crivelli
And so after today, whenever I look up at the blue of the sky, reaffirming my faith in people and a brighter future, I will also think of the sky that I saw in Sarnano, which in its way reminded me once again how humans are capable of producing real and wholesome beauty. I learnt to do this at the age of nine following Anne Frank’s shining example, which I continue to do at Paradise Possible.
The Paradise Trotter