Inarea

This cap has a name and surname, one that loves minute details, sleepless nights and drugs. Yet, today isn’t Sherlock Holmes Day. Let’s instead introduce Gilbert Keith Chesterton, just in case his name doesn’t ring a bell straight away: he was almost a contemporary of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and, like him, was born in late May under the sun sign of Gemini – though he wasn’t his twin but, rather, his alter ego. The same can be said about the detectives that sprang from the two authors’ respective imaginations. Holmes was a charismatic mentor while the protagonist of the Father Brown stories was an unassuming priest. Yet that is exactly how Chesterton tricks us. While the gentleman who lives at 221B Baker Street is the doyen of deductive reasoning, Father Brown excels at inductive logic. Emotions: it’s precisely these that ultimately give the criminals away – and, mind you, for the clergyman, they were by no means common thieves. The finer ones are those who think too much and that is where Father Brown takes his pleasure; he digs deep for oil, but gives his interlocutors the impression that he’s using a bucket and spade. In conclusion, if Holmes could find the tiniest of flaws in the weave of the warp, Father Brown tends to look for a hidden darn. Which hat are we going to put on today, a deerstalker or a saturno? Never underestimate the role of emotions, they could turn us inside out, or round and round like the ringed planet.

Porto Venere (which in Italian means “Port Venus”) is a pearl in the Ligurian Sea, bathed not only by the Goddess of Love after whom it is named, but also by the exhaustion of poet Lord Byron when he swam the stretch of sea separating it from the small coastal town of Lerici. Byron championed Luddism, an English popular movement whose members were notorious for destroying the looms and textile machinery introduced by the Industrial Revolution, considering them a threat to skilled craftsmanship. Paradoxically, the daughter that Lord Byron never knew, Ada Lovelace (1815-1852), is instead considered the mother of computer programming. Her special talent lay in an ability to grasp that an algorithm could go beyond numbers, generating symbols, words, and even notes. However, as Ada pointed out, it would never be imaginative, because it would always rely on a human brain in order to function. Thus, the daughter of a poet created a device that, in order to work, would always need poetry. Seeing as Valentine’s Day is in three days’ time, this seems a perfect preamble to the subject of love. “What’s in a name?” one might well ask; in Ada’s case,“love” and “lace” – not just the delicate, weblike fabric which the Luddites defended, but also the sturdy cords used to lace-up those boxing-gloves she supposedly had to don in order to assert herself in the “ring” of mathematics. Hers was a short-lived life, spent in what was then exclusively a man’s world. Today is the International Day of Women and Girls in Science : a love that history tried hard to complicate and render as intricate as bobbin lace.

Yesterday was International Holocaust Remembrance Day. And the fact that today is the day-after isn’t a good reason to forget everything. To switch our sensibilities on and off as if they were devices, to change our moods according to what happens to be on offer there, is one of the limitations of this day and age. We’d like to tell you a story about ballerinas who survived the Holocaust, or about composer Olivier Messiaen who, at the age of 32 and while interned in the prisoner-of-war camp in Görlitz, wrote and performed his ”Quartet for the End of Time”… Indeed, there must be a way of avoiding our memory faculty turning into sporadic or intermittent memories; of providing ourselves with stumbling blocks which we can inadvertently bump into all the year round. That’s why, in order to ensure we do remember, we’re going to grant ourselves a somewhat “unpoetic” license by calling memory a zipper: a gateway between the past and the present, so that we don’t impassively wave yesterday goodbye. Name Day St Thomas Aquinas

Florence is a shining city: one of its bridges is dedicated to goldsmiths and, traditionally, the feast day everyone looks forward to is St John’s Tide (24 June) when the Baptistery’s Silver Altar (which is kept under nitrogen for the rest of the year) is shown to worshippers. This treasure, which took more than a century to create (1367-1483), is made from 200 kilograms of silver and an almost inestimable number of panels and statues. It features the workmanship of numerous artists, including Antonio del Pollaiolo, Verrocchio (Leonardo’s master) and Michelozzo. Just 700 metres away, at Palazzo Strozzi, we find a different kind of lustre, one that radiates from a modern alloy. Jeff Koons’ steel does not need to be viewed by candlelight as do the shadowy niches chiselled in between the various saints on the Silver Altar (let’s try to imagine how a 14th-century worshipper would have scrutinised them…) Koons’ rabbits, dogs and Venuses, on the other hand, are like mirrors in which we can see our own reflections. “The slick, spotless, smooth, and spick-and-span is the hallmark of our times. It’s what Jeff Koons’s sculptures, iPhones, and Brazilian waxing have in common (…) There is nothing in it to interpret, decipher, or think out. It’s an art of the ‘like.’”This comment was written by South Korean philosopher Byung-Chul Han in 2019. But the fact is that the iconic American artist pulled the “aesthetic of the slick” out of his hat twenty years before the Apple phone emerged. Art can be a forerunner of acts yet to be played out. Oh, and by the way, many happy returns, Jeff Koons as you prepare to face your “third act”. But no worries: we shan’t breathe a word! Name Day St Agnes

In The Crown, Season 1, we see a very young Queen Elizabeth II receiving a meaningful lesson from her grandmother Queen Mary; her task as head of state is to do nothing and be impartial at all times. The monarch’s duty is to inspire unshakeable certainties: the less she does, the better. That is what is expected of her. Yet some of the most brilliant women in British history have been trailblazers, leaving their mark on the world by spearheading a new age capable of obscuring whatever was there before. Starting with Boadicea (“the victorious”), the queen who led an uprising against the Romans in 60 A.D., or Elizabeth I, who many considered illegitimate, both with regard to her birth, gender and religion. The Elizabethan period was a shining “Golden Age”, a turning-point, nothing would ever be the same afterwards. The Virgin Queen’s portraits testify to her unshakeable self-assurance in fulfilling the role she had carved out for herself. It has been announced that new photographic portraits of the probable future Queen, H.R.H. the Duchess of Cambridge, on the occasion of her 40th birthday will be on display in the National Portrait Gallery. Kate Middleton can be compared to Angelica in Italian novel Il Gattopardo (“The Leopard”): a woman who comes with good looks, a dowry and is at ease in society. On 6 February Elizabeth II will be celebrating the 70th anniversary of her accession to the throne and Kate is, perhaps, her ideal successor because she is both beautiful and cautious. That’s why Paolo Roversi’s photo seems to us a convincing portrait of her at this time. Our birthday wishes to Kate are to make a clean break with the past: may her future be as bold as the brushstroke of her eyeliner. Name Day St Felix of Nola

If we delve into the etymology of the word “Epiphany” we discover that it actually means “manifestation” (as well as “revelation” or “realization”) (1). In the Western Christian tradition, yesterday we commemorated the Magi’s adoration of Baby Jesus, the feast day also marking His first public appearance. As the Gospel According to St Matthew recounts, not trusting King Herod, afterwards the Three Kings returned to their own countries via another route. The decision was not without consequences: on one hand there was the Massacre of the Innocents, on the other the Flight into Egypt. Tomorrow would have been David Bowie’s birthday (2) and, in three days time, it’s also the anniversary of his death; in the accompanying booklet to one of his last albums (Heathen, 2002), (3) the pop star leaves us a ‘cameo’: Guido Reni’s painting The Massacre of the Innocents which today hangs at the Pinacoteca in Bologna. From the year zero, via the 17th century, the blood-curdling episode has ended up inside a pop album. If we move just a little southwards, to the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, on a canvas painted in the same century we can see the Holy Family taking a rest during the flight into Egypt and doing their laundry: they’re all busy, including Joseph, in this other ‘snapshot’ of those times. Epiphany, therefore, in the sense of alternative manifestations that unexpectedly pop up in non-religious ambits, or which can be viewed from secular perspectives, even within the ‘halos’ of our own homes. We like to think of the word’s multiple meanings as being as imaginative as a pair of mismatched socks   Onomastico San Raimondo