Bagnaia - I

mercoledì, 15 gennaio 2025

Some of you familiar with Pari, may also be familiar with Bagnaia, or the Bagnaia near Pari. However, this Bagnaia, is not that Bagnaia, but the Bagnaia that is a a frazione of Viterbo, in Lazio. Bagnaia was the first place that I landed in Italia. Thanks to a friend from high school who had an opening, I had planned to spend a month in Bagnaia before heading back to Stati Uniti. Plans have a way of changing, however, especially if one is open to the ever-shifting nature of the Universe and its intimations.

I spent a little over a week in Bagnaia, and while this borgo was tiny compared to the city of Viterbo, it was a metropolis compared to Pari. As you may be able to tell from the photo, Bagnaia is an exemplar of walled medieval village, complete with a turret that marks one of the gateways that still serves as an entrance. Bagnaia served as my introduction to Italian culture, along many of the quirks and perks associated with living in a medieval village. Like Pari, the center of the village was situated near the restaurant that also served as a café and gelateria. And, like Pari, the children also played outside until well-past dark while parents and relatives sat and watched them from the benches where they sat and chat.

While cellular reception was quite strong within the city of Viterbo, Bagnaia was a different story altogether. Somehow, thick stone structures, surrounded by an even thicker stone wall, are not well-suited for cellphone signals — regardless of the carrier that one may choose to use. And so, for the first ten days, I was introduced to the world of spotty cellphone and wifi service. Mind you, this was not a bad thing, and nothing that I would consider complaining about. As my brother would say, “it’s not a bug, it’s a feature”. And for me, who had journeyed from the ever-connected world of the United States, spotty reception was just what I needed. Over the course of those ten days in Bagnaia I made it a point to stay away from both my tablet and computer and only used my cellphone sparingly.

I was far more interested in the architecture, trees, and people (to say nothing of the food) to want to spend my month in front of a screen. After a little over a week, right before I headed to Pari, I had a Zoom meeting with a small group of friends. And here is where I noticed the utter oddity of communicating with others through a flat, two-dimensional screen. Something felt off as soon as I opened up my tablet and saw the flat, black glass staring back at me. I had only been in Italia for a little over a week, but in a world replete with curves, sounds, textures, and scents something about viewing the world through a glass partition seemed sinfully detached.

While I still use Zoom for communication and learning, I have backed off using technology for more social settings. After spending so many months in Italia, with its vibrant culture, architecture, and expressions of Nature viewing the world (and people) through a screen seems distressingly safe and superficial. Which is anything but what my experience of Italia, beginning with Bagnaia and Viterbo, and progressing to Pari has been for me. Village life has shown me that the richness of life is somehow attenuated, or even impoverished, when one can literally “shut someone off” simply by closing their screen.

Admittedly, things have the potential to become more complicated in interactions that are primarily face-to-face, but they also have the potential to become richer and more nuanced in their tones. This is similar to the difference between fast food and cooking together with family and friends. In both cases I feel that there is a richness there that cannot be duplicated in any other way.

Bagnaia and Viterbo reintroduced me to this “richness of life”, not only through their culture, people, and food, but also through their architecture. For although I took many pictures in Italia, I found it difficult, if not impossible, to capture the essence of Italia through a little glass lens. And so, first in Viterbo and Bagnaia, but particularly in Pari, I began to sketch and draw the architecture of my experience, not solely to document what I had seen, but to recreate and bring people into my experience.

Yours in inspiration,
Michael Weaver