In the 1950s, film director Federico Fellini invited New York photograper William Klein to capture the Italy depicted in his films and these are the pictures we saw on display.
In one room, we encountered five photographs interspersed among limestone pillars, statues of Caesar, and pieces of the Temple of Venus. It was a setup I have never seen before, but somehow both exhibits became more powerful because of this juxtaposition.
This mixing is what strikes me most about Italian life. I noticed it in Caccuri, when I saw great great-grandmothers gossiping with great great-granddaughters on the street. Americans aren’t as proficient at fluidly mixing generations. I noticed it in Placanica, in southern Calabria, when Nano and I went to a town festival of the patron saint, Saint Antonio. Here, there were people of all ages sitting in the church, praying and leaving offerings. Outside the church, the scene resembled a dance club with loud music, dancing, yelling and laughter.
The juxtaposition was strange, yet wonderfully beautiful. In Rome I saw it again in the mixing between massive, ancient buildings and daily life. In pictures, those Roman landmarks, the Forum and Colosseum, look isolated and rural. But in real life they are integrated with modern street life. You turn your head to check for traffic, and see an ancient wall looming over modern buildings.