Invitation to join in an interactive project: I’m preparing to launch the first stage of a project that will grow in the months and years ahead: an interactive world map featuring the current and historical locations of the Venticinques (and Twentyfives, and Ventis) who’ve connected with this project so far.
Every time I’d exit the Minnesota Secretary of State office, where I had to go repeatedly for my Italian citizenship documentation, I would see these two flags across the street and think, What are the odds?!?!
It’s been far too long since I’ve given a full project update, but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t been hard at work — on the contrary! We Are 25 has been steadily developing its foundation and gaining momentum behind the scenes.
When I last posted a blog update, a whopping two years ago, I was still naively optimistic about my wonderful 2020 plans. The year ahead was meant to hold a couple long trips to Italy, including an extended stay in Sicily and Campania, in edition to a working trip to the east coast of the U.S. I was getting ready to source a research assistant, ramp up my production, and seek additional funding so I could continue to move things along. At the same time, I was anticipating my own Italian citizenship case to start moving smoothly and steadily through the Roman court system
And did I ever have the wrong idea! All those wonderful plans were replaced by … at first, a vacuum of uncertainty. All travel screeched to a halt, and I was heartbroken to have to cancel my return trip to Italy in March 2020. I’d been counting the days! Public resources — libraries, archives, offices — became less available. People retreated into their own homes (especially in Italy, out of necessity) and into their interior worlds.
As the pandemic raged and then dragged on, I stayed in contact with many of the project’s collaborators, participants, and supporters. Frequent WhatsApp, Facebook and Instagram messages were exchanged with Venticinques (and friends) throughout the Italian south and beyond. Through it all, relationships blossomed and grew despite the unsettling circumstances.
With my travel plans suspended indefinitely and being unable to work for months — my event and portrait photography business had seemingly evaporated overnight — I was determined to take advantage of the empty time and space that life suddenly presented. This project is one of the most important things in my life, and I was able to take stock of what We Are 25 needs in order to grow. I focused on the things that I could do not just despite the circumstances, but because of them.
I poured many hours and all my love into designing a new website (this one!), which has the room to grow and expand along with the project. I’m especially grateful I found a way to build a dual-language site… and that I had the time to actually do it.
I invested time and money into my video productions capabilities, enrolling in a couple documentary shorts courses at a local film school. This helped me refine my concept, boost my skills, and create what is now the prototype for the day-in-the-life videos that are so central to the We Are 25 project.
Here’s a short, rather impressionistic video I made in the spring of 2020. It has nothing to do with We Are 25, but everything to do with living through the first seasons of the pandemic. Thanks to the amazing Venice-based ambient artist Gigi Masin for letting me use his music!
And here’s a tiny sample of the first day-in-the-life bio documentary. No Punching in the Hammock! stars Don 25, with special appearances from Vaughn 25 & Westyn 25. The full video will be available online.
Thanks to the meticulous record-keeping of the Italians throughout the past few centuries, as well as the digitization efforts of the LDS community, it was possible for me to spend countless hours poring over ancestral records online in the Italian Antenati database as well as some U.S. genealogy sites. I am still — and will continue to be — building off the work I started then.
While this may seem unrelated, it’s not: a side benefit of the pandemic was that I was able to relocate to beautiful Seattle while working a remote marketing job. My purpose in returning to the city that never let go of me (I lived here in my 20s) was simple and important: create space to be happy, and to focus my time and energy on the We Are 25 project. This decision has proved to be very fruitful, as I’ve tapped into some lovely branches of the 25 tree that I never would have otherwise. (More on that later.)
So now here we are in September 2022, and I’m considering how I will be furthering the project’s goals in the months and years ahead. What’s next for the We Are 25? What has evolved, what has been lost, and what will remain the same?
While I’m sorting through the answers to those questions, I can say a few things for certain:
It’s important that I work as quickly as possible, while I can still get to know as many people from the older generations as possible. When I think of some of the older folks I’ve met along the way and how by the time I see them next, years will have already passed… it makes me want to get right on the next plane. Life is uncertain, and there is no time to lose!
I am heading back to Sicily & Campania in October, and hope to spend some extended time with the wonderful people I’ve gotten to know and whom I’ve missed so very much. (Leonforte & Agira, I am coming for you!)
I’ll also be spending a few days in Calabria in a town called Acri, one of my ancestral villages (my grandma Rosa Romano’s family). I’ll be shooting photo and video as part of a project I’m involved in with a couple friends from the village. The project is called “Viviamo Acri” and its mission is to encourage tourism — genealogical, cultural, and environmental — in the area.
Perhaps one of the things that sustained me the most over the past couple years: receiving a constant stream of emails and messages from people like you who found their way to this website and who reached out to say hello, and to share stories and histories of their own. You know who you are, and I’m so grateful for you. And for those of you who have been thinking of writing but haven’t yet: please do it! It is such a joy to hear from Venticinques (and Twentyfives, and Ventis) from around the globe. I hope to meet as many of you as possible in person in the years ahead.
And of course, an undeniable source of strength and inspiration has been the support of the special people who’ve been invested in this project from the beginning, and who have buoyed me up in many ways, ranging from financial support to emotional cheerleading sessions. I appreciate you!! With all the ups and downs in the past two years, one thing that never changed was the little bank account that holds all the project funds. It was always there, full of hope and optimism for the time when I could finally get back to work. It may not be a lot of money, but having even just a modest supply dedicated to this project, ready to be put back to work again. really has made a difference.
Thank you for taking the time to read. Please send a note and say hello!
Please consider passing this site on to someone you may know who would be interested in helping to fund this project. The couple thousand dollars set aside in the bank will help, but it won’t get me that far! Until I am able to pull together the content for proper fundraising efforts, any fiscal support would be very well utilized and VERY much appreciated. I’m very used to stretching each and every dollar, and I’ll continue to put any and all donations to good use.
Stay tuned for more updates. I promise you won’t have to wait so long for the next one!
a long way from italy
Eating at my favorite Italian osteria in Seattle, La Spiga. Forza Romagna!
I was out with a dear friend celebrating my upcoming day in citizenship court. I was already celebrating, nor at all aware that a big fat rejection was coming my way. But that’s a story for another time.
On the portico-lined streets of beautiful Bologna, Emilia Romagna, 7 September 2021.
When I first discovered that the Venticinque story tracks back to the Sicilian region around Enna, I tried to learn as much as I could about the area through internet research. Having not yet ever been to the mountainous regions of Sicily’s interior, I had no idea what the towns there would feel like. I wondered if they’d be modern and familiar like places I’d been to (Palermo, Cefalù, Messina), or something more archaic.
However, I already knew Italy well enough to understand that the key to comprehending any paese (village) is its social vortex: the bar. Functioning as a sort of democratic meeting place for the people, the Italian bar (phonetically pronounced kind of like “BAHH-duh”) can be understood by Americans as a cross between a coffeeshop, a cafe, a seniors community center, a family ice cream parlor, and a pub. It’s a truly democratic community meeting place, one that changes throughout the day. The mornings tend to deliver older folks who linger and chat with one another, or hang and read the newspaper while people come and go; mornings also initiate the steady day-long stream of people who come in to say hello and drink a quick espresso standing at the bar, often clocking less than 2 minutes from entry to exit. Like many places in Italy, it’s not unusual for bars to close from 1:30-4pm. After that, for those that re-open for the second part of the day, the steady stream continues but is punctuated by a few main waves: the crowd of teenagers just getting out of school, and a bit later, the aperitivi crowd— friends meeting up for drinks and snacks from 5-7ish). In bigger cities, the bars will stay open late and often tend to be be patronized by a diverse crowd until it slowly dies down toward closing.
One of the first things I discovered in my research about the Venticinque-Leonforte connection was a bar in town called Il Dolce, which is owned and run by a guy named Angelo Venticinque. I couldn’t find much info about him online, but I had a feeling that when we finally met, it would be a significant connection. So when I finally got the chance to travel to Leonforte, Angelo’s cafe was top on my list of places to visit. Not only did I want to meet Angelo, but I also felt like his cafe could serve as a crash course for the Leonforte scene. And as it turns out… I was right!
Since the first time I navigated the winding hillside road up into town, I have grown to know and love Leonforte. It’s a town with a unique feel and energy to it: simultaneously harsh and sweet, ancient and contemporary, dark and light. In the months and years ahead, I will do my best to show what I see and feel when I’m there, in my future posts.
But for now, I just wanted to share a photo that I took of Angelo at his bar back in 2018. He’s a warm guy, someone who is genuinely nice and whom I’ve started to (only semi-jokingly) refer to as “the most famous man in Leonforte”. I’m definitely looking forward to spending more time with (and, of course, photographing) Angelo, his wife Rosetta, and the rest of their family. Also… I think Angelo and his cafe would be a fantastic subject for one of the mini-documentaries I’m making for this project, and I’m really hoping he’ll be willing to collaborate with me. He’s definitely a busy guy, and I’m crossing my fingers I can catch him long enough to do it. So many characters come through the doors of his bar (and some working behind the counter too!), so many stories to tell.
Angelo Venticinque at his cafe Il Dolce, located right in the town’s center. October 2018, Leonforte.
I recently came across this video that I shot off the balcony of the Hotel Sicilia in Enna, back in early October of 2018. And it brought me right back.
Last fall, when I tried to return to the hotel that had become my beloved Enna home, I was disappointed to learn that it had closed due to the need for extensive renovations. Fortunately I hadn’t known that the place was actually a massive fire trap when I’d been staying there right before its closure!
It would be difficult to explain how that hotel was the setting for some very special moments of growth, change, and inspiration. I’ll never forgot my time there, from my first view from the balcony, to the moments of joy and insight that came to me during the time I spent there.
Now, as I reflect not only about that time in my journey back in October of 2018, but also the sadness I felt the next year when I learned that it had closed, I realize that I had been living in a time of sweet naiveté. So much life has happened since then, things I could’ve never foreseen. Presently, we are only a handful of weeks into the Covid-19 lockdown, but it feels like it’s been an eternity. I’ve been watching and suffering along with Italia since February, feeling a sense of sad powerlessness that weighs on my heart so heavily.
How quickly things can change. Now, the landscape looks so different. Italy will be closed to tourism for several more months, and it’s unclear when the border will open. Many places— hotels, restaurants, cafes, stores— that were successful just a few months ago will never open their doors again. The piazzas may remain empty for many months more, and still nobody knows how long people will have to distance themselves from each other.
This video used to feel so moody and dramatic, in a suspenseful and romantic way. Now, the dim light and mountain fog seem forlorn and resigned. Perhaps it is time to remember that this land— Sicily, and Italia in general— has seen its way through so many waves of humanity: war, famine, and disease as well as prosperity, peace, and evolution. This is just one little slice of the story, as story in which our lives play such a minuscule part. What does that mean for us? While I ask myself that question every day, the best I can understand at this moment is… to be present, to listen, to stay calm, and to gather the strength that will be needed to make all the adjustments necessary for the world that is revealed when the dust settles. Also, I have a renewed resolve to press on with this work, as the #VENTICINQUE project has the power to shed light on the experience of being human in this world.
Until then, I will cherish my sweetest memories… like my moments on my little suspended balcony at the Hotel Sicilia in Enna. A part of me years to go back to that moment of happiness, before I had to confront all that has followed since then; part of me is still on that balcony, still breathing the air, still sending my heartfelt thoughts into the night and receive the most meaningful messages in return.
Ti amo, Italia. Ci vediamo presto.
I have much to say about this lovely man, Rosario “Saro” Venticinque, whom I first heard about while living up in Turin in the summer of 2019. Then, in an incredible display of serendipity, I then met him “randomly” a few months later in Sicily, when a new friend (thanks, Filippo!) offered to connect me with his Venticinque uncle. We made some photos, and some interviews, and this little video that I’d like to share with you. He’s a star! Looking forward to doing a full interview with him on my next visit.
Hello! I recently shared this email with my group of supporters. It’s full of pictures, stories, and information about what I have accomplished so far as well as what my future plans are.
Here’s the link. Enjoy!
One of the valuable underlying aspects of this #Venticinque project is the way it urges us to consider issues of immigration, national belonging, ethnicity, and race. Just in time for this year’s Columbus Day, the New York Times published an opinion piece that directly speaks to the way that Italian Americans fluidly shifted through different racial categories over the years. It’s definitely worth a read:
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/10/12/opinion/columbus-day-italian-american-racism.html
I am happy to say that I will be returning to Italy during the fall of 2019 in order to continue work on this project. While my schedule is not yet set, I plan to be in Sicilia from late September until mid-October. I am hoping to meet, talk with, and photograph as many of you as possible. Please keep in touch by sending me an email and letting me know which area you live in. Thank you!
Sono felice di dire che tornerò in Italia nell'autunno del 2019 per continuare a lavorare su questo progetto. Mentre il mio programma non è ancora fissato, ho in programma di essere in Sicilia da fine settembre a metà ottobre. Spero di incontrare, parlare e fotografare il maggior numero possibile di voi. Vi prego di rimanere in contatto inviandomi un'e-mail e facendomi sapere in quale area vivi. Grazie!
Non vedo l’ora di incontrarvi!
- Lisa Venticinque
Lisa@Lisa25.com
WhatsApp: +39 348 301 3139
After many miles (and days) of driving, I have finally arrived in Enna, the province (and city) that sits right in the center of the island of Sicily. After taking the ferry from the mainland and making my way through Messina and Catania, I drove through a crazy tropical thunderstorm on my way to get here— it was one of those situations where the palm trees blew sideways, I couldn’t see a thing, and I had to squeeze under a bridge along with a couple other cars seeking refuge.
Somewhere between Catania & Enna…
But it was all worth it when, driving through the countryside, I approached a vision of majestic beauty: a rugged mountain top with a city nestled in its rock face, with a misty cloak of clouds wrapped around it. Truly, it was like nothing I’d ever seen before, and I couldn’t believe my luck with I realized that what I was seeing was Enna, the place I was headed.
A few years ago, someone tipped me off to the idea that this region of Italy may be the starting point for the Venticinque story. Ever since then, I’ve been trying to figure out if that is actually true— and my research thus far seems to support this theory. The main town I’d been hoping to visit for years is called Leonforte (which means “strong lion”), a relatively small community outside the larger city of Enna. I had been hoping for the longest time to spend a month in Leonforte, renting a room and acclimating to the community so that I could begin to explore and get to know people. However, for this trip I opted to stay in Enna since it was easier to find accommodation— in fact, it was difficult to find any place to stay at all in Leonforte . What I didn’t expect was not only for Leonforte to be bigger than I’d thought, but also I didn’t anticipate that Enna would be such a majestic, historically significant, and vibrant city. Stone streets, a mix of clouds & fog hanging in the air… this is what I found when I arrived at my hotel:
Not bad for a balcony view of a $35/night hotel room, right? It was pretty amazing.
Enna served as the perfect launching spot for my research— I loved its moody vibe and also it was really easy to access the nearby villages. It’s definitely where I will be returning to for my next round, and I can’t wait to get back.
Hotel Sicila, my Enna home.
One of my favorite things about Italy is the warmth and kindness that I find in nearly every situation— I can’t tell you how many lovely people I met each and every day, and this area was no different. While following the trail of my own bisnonni in search of clues about how any Venticinques ended up in the area, I struck up conversations with as many people as I could.
Thanks to this lovely cultural standard of friendliness, I was not only able to talk about the WeAre25 project, but people were eager to offer help and advice. And for the first ever, people actually recognized the name and were able to recall others in their own community whom they knew. On many occasions, the person I was talking to would grab the attention of someone else (sometimes even on the telephone) to help track down the name and details of a Venticinque, often someone that they vaguely remembered. It usually sounded something like: “Ah yes, I remember an older man who lives just outside of his town… what was his name? My cousin knows him and I will ask him. Wait here because he’ll be back in a few minutes….”
To my excitement, these conversations of recognition started happening more and more, and I quickly noticed that Teano, a small city near where I was staying but which was not yet on my radar. One day I headed into town, winding through the hairpin turns of the stone streets as sheets of rain poured down all around me. I stopped in a piazza at the center of town when I saw a group of men gathered there. After some surface chit-chat, I was given a name and an address for a Venticinque (if you can call “just outside of town past the big restaurant, there’s a butcher shop where you can ask for him because he lives nearby” an address). I set off as the rain increased, but as I approached the destination, I had to stop an turn around; the torrential rain had caused a flash flood, and the road was impassable. Hoping to wait it out, I ducked into a cafe so I could get (yet) a(nother) coffee. While I was there, I ended up in a conversation with the mother-daughter owners, who enthusiastically told me about a Venticinque who lives by the Teano train station. I headed straight there hoping to catch the mystery man and, as I pulled up, I saw the most interesting character emerge from the station. Trying to avoid making him feel like he was being ambushed, I jumped out of my car to catch his attention and…
Twenty minutes later, Beppe & are were fast friends. We drove to the nearby home of Nicola Venticinque, an engineer and well-respected man in the community. I wasn’t so sure about showing up unannounced, but Pepa assured me it would be fine. And as it turns out, it was— Nicola was lovely and interested in the projects, and he offered to collaborate with me next year— he said I could do portraits of his family, and he would assist me as much as possible with research in the area. Fantastico! Sadly, he had to run before I could set up for even a quick portrait, but we made plans to meet next year. [Update: We did! Check for the stories from our 2019 visit.]
Beppe and I left and headed back toward the train station, where he showed me his pen of over 80 chickens, hens, and roosters— absolutely amazing! We then walked down to the local bar, where we sat at a table and talked until long after the sun went down and night was firmly set upon us. It turns out that Pepe is an incredible man, a window of 40 years who has 3 daughters and has recreationally studied psychotherapy for the past 20. He delivered a long and heartfelt lecture to me about how I am never, not under any circumstances, trust Italian men: never listen to their sweet words, he said, because all they want to do is… well, I need say no more. With his permission, I recorded our conversation— something I will return to, I’m sure, many times for a smile.
We said our goodbyes under the stars, and I honestly can’t wait to see him again. We formed a true bond that night, and I’m so happy to have met him and to now call him a friend.
Around seven years ago, I discovered that I may be eligible for dual US-Italian citizenship. After many years of puzzling over how I could possibly find a way to live and work in the EU, I was thrilled at the prospect. I entertained the possibility for a few years, doing some light research into the labyrinth of rules & regulations… and then about a year ago, I got serious and from that point there was no turning back.
Interestingly, it turns out that I am actually an Italian citizen right now. Who knew?!?! Italy grants Italian citizenship by descent, and unless one generation naturalizes before the next is born, citizenship passes on as long as the chain is unbroken. However, the process to prove one’s citizenship-by-blood (juris sanguinis) is fraught with bureaucracy and complications. There is an incredible amount of paperwork involved: historical documents and vital records, official stamps, translations, and more. Then, you have to get an appointment at one of the Consulate offices in the US. That process in itself is surprisingly difficult: right now, the first appointments available in a majority of the US offices are scheduled out to 2023. Five years just to get an appointment! And then if you submit perfect paperwork and pay some more money, you get to wait 2 years with absolutely no word of update until eccolo! You’re in. (Or not.)
I’ve spent countless hours poring through records, collection documents, and trying to piece together a case. I’ve hit some major walls (turns out my great-great grandfather snuck over to the US for 5 years to naturalize before going back to bring the rest of the family over), and am working my way around them. Turns out that I’m going to have to work with an attorney to plead a case of discrimination because, until the 1990s, women were not considered to be valid carriers of the bloodline.
I’ve been working with my Uncle Bobby, and as a 2-person team we have done a lot of work. He was actually just in Italy to collect some documents, and I’ve been able to stop by a couple offices to do some research on my own. Yesterday, as I was driving through Calabria, I was able to stop in the comune biblioteca (historical records library) of my great grandfather Angela Romano’s village, to search for his elusive birth certificate. And I found it! And then I had to head comune ufficio (city hall) to have the documents reviewed and get an official form & stamp. It took some arguing, and some coercion, and some time, and some laughter… but I got it!
This winter, I’ll engage an Italian attorney. Apparently, almost everyone who pleads the same anti-discrimination case wins, if they have all their documents in order. I’ll continue to collect everything I need, and will apply next year. It turns out that it is much faster to apply after establishing residency in Italy— and that sounds like a good plan to me! 2019 goals….
Here are some scenes from my visits in Marzano-Appio (Campania) and Acri (Calabria):
This is Stella the historical librarian at the Acri biblioteca. She is a superstar.
This is the original birth certificate of my great-grandfather, written by hand a couple days after he was born. On the left is written a record of his two marriages. The top is my great-grandmother who died too young, and the bottom is for his second marriage— he went back to his village to find a wife, and married (and brought home) a woman who was younger than him by FORTY-TWO YEARS!! Hard to fathom.
This guy and his staff gave me a really hard time for doing the unthinkable: showing up when they were heading out for the day (at noon). However, with the help of a local friend, we were able to convince him to take it easy on me. And I walked out of there with that precious blue stamp!
I’m not able to do everything I’d like to, because of my time limitations. But I’ve made some great connections in the municipal offices, and know just who to contact if I need assistance with further research before I come back. And luckily, there are some informative and inspiring resources out there, like this DIY Italian Citizenship by Descent guide that exemplifies how quickly the process can move when you know what you’re doing.
Stay tuned for updates on this crazy journey I’m setting out on!
When I left Naples to head toward the villages north of Caserta, I was hoping to find some clues about why my own great-grandfather had ended up there. I know almost nothing about the Campania region, and I didn’t have high expectations. However, when I started to visit the villages where my own ancestors left from, I quickly learned that this area is more important to the story than I ever know.
Here’s a little video that tracks me along the way from Naples right into the middle of the unknown. Full disclosure: I absolutely do not like being on camera, but I decided to document my story along the way because it would be a great learning experience, and also a great way to show the journey through my perspective.
Hello from Napoli: phase one of the journey begins.
Hard as it was to tear myself away from the many new friends and rich experiences I had up in the North, I’m incredibly excited to set off on this critical phase of We Are 25. After stopping in Rome for a couple nights, where I ran into some typical nearly disastrous travel mishaps, I lugged my ultra-heavy, camera—laden bags south and landed on the wild, wild streets of Naples.
While I really don’t like being on camera, I’ve decided that I must get over it for the sake of this project. So I present to you… a report from my first day in action. I hope it gives a good sense of where I am, what I’ve been up to, and what Im getting ready to do.
Above: I tracked down my Uncle Bobby and we headed down to take in the Saturday night scene on Via Tribunali. This city is absolutely crackling with energy! So much life.
Yesterday I left the cocoon of my beloved Pennabilli, a small village nestled in the remote mountains of Emilia-Romagna. I spent the past three there weeks working on a project called Esperienza, an Italian language and culture institute that is currently being developed. As an artist in residence and member of the management team, I was the photo/video documentarian of the project. I must say— challenging as it was to keep up with the on-the-go pace of the group, it was by far the most enjoyable documentation gig I’ve ever had! And certainly the most delicious— the amount of food consumed is astonishing.
And the beauty…. I never knew much about Emiglia-Romagna, as I’ve spent most of my time in other regions of Italy (cities of Tuscany, Sicily, etc). So I was unprepared for its astounding beauty: mountain capped with castles, churches, and fortresses. Tiny hilltop villages with houses that date from before the 14th century. Layers and layers of mountain ridges in the distance, in every direction; light that changes dramatically every hour of every day. The people who are deeply connected to the land. I fell in love with the region, and if all goes well with the program, I hope to be able to return next year for a longer period of time (more on that later).
Photo-documentation in action in Pennabilli
One of the many benefits of my time up north is the opportunity I have had to work on and improve my ability to speak the Italian language. When I first arrived, I was pretty timid— but now, I really don’t care if I screw things up, so I just let the words try to match my thoughts. The result is not only that I can get by with the language, but I’ve actually really taken to it. I’ve spent countless hours talking to people, which has been great because I’ve met so many people and actually have formed some real friendships— all in Italian!
Improving my language was the single most critical goal I had for my first stretch of time back in Italy. Although my residency kept me much busier than expected, I now feel really good about my ability to converse and connect with people. Good news, considering I’m about to step off into a world where English will often be not used at all.
ON the train through Naples, speeding through the countryside:, I see the landscape has changed yet again; the rocky mountains loom over the countryside, stark against the blue sky. I’m heading into the land that wasn’t able to sustain its people, the land where the sun turns much to brown: the trees of the hilltops, the crops in the fields, the skin of the workers
Today began my first day of the next phase of this trip to Italy. My residency is over and I am now able to focus 100% on my project.
I’m pretty sure that as I write this part, I’m approaching the area where I”ll be doing my family research as I move slowly toward obtaining my citizenship. In just a few days I’ll be back here, driving around on my own in search of people who share my name’s history.
Once I get to Naples, I will be renting a car and driving it through the countryside, making my way through different towns that seem to hold clues. I’m starting in Campania, the area around Naples; this is the place where my great-grandfather last lived before leaving for America, and the place where his own father landed, presumably after leaving the barren land even further south. Over the years, my Italian friends have told me that they’d never dream of driving their car to Naples— chances are that if someone doesn’t bang up your car, they’ll steal it! We’ll see what happens….
Thus summer, I launched a campaign to raise support for this project. It was met with overwhelming support, and I”m thrilled to announce that we met the goal! (Well, actually the online & offline contributions added up to just under the $4k goal, but realistically it was a complete success. MAJOR THANKS to each and every person who contributed to this campaign:
Michelle Hayes
Jennifer Zarth
Annie Elbin
Jeannine Pohl
Carly Romeo
Dameun Strange
Anonymous
Amanda Keillor
Anthony F Tedesco
Nate Dungan
Carissa Morris
Karen Manuel
Cynthia Bittner
Nancy Hendrickson
Olivia Johnson
C.J. Staples
Anonymous
Dawn Hofstrand
Nancy Gerber
Annette Schiebout
Anonymous
Anonymous
Anonymous
Susan Hoyt
Anonymous
Anonymous
Sandra Gengler
Mark Carter
Gina Sevick
Michael Cruse
Peggy Hansen
Brian Balleria
Matt Garceau
Anonymous
Sarah Caflisch
Anonymous
Pamela
Carole Kaldahl
Henry Kaldahl
Travis Anderson
The Italian Cultural Center of Minneapolis
Samuel Fischer
Jeff Nelsen
Emily Colletti
Teresa Thomas
Ingrid Weise
Rachel Allyn
Sara Venticinque
What’s the money for? It’s to lay the foundation for the first phase of this project, covering production-related expenses. You can learn all about the campaign in detail here.
Thanks so much, everyone! Can’t wait to write all those love letters from Italy!
I'm thrilled to be launching the first phase of this monumental project. I'll be heading to Italy in September to complete some research, make in-person connections with several members of the Venticinque network, and to schedule some interviews and portrait sessions.
I am currently raising funds for this first phase, which will enable me to create the first collection of images and narratives. I will be compiling this work into a presentation to pitch to potential major funders (for example, businesses & organizations with an interest in Italian cultural identity and Italian-American relations, or with a more broad interest in immigration histories).
This is where YOU come in: I've launched a crowdfunding site to help raise funds for this first trip. The funds will be used for things like photo/video gear I need, and other expenses incurred as I make my way through this critical first phase.
Here's the link to my Indiegogo site. A donation of $25 would be fantastico, but there are some great perks for larger donations as well.
THANK YOU!!
I'm currently reading an excellent and engaging book called Murder in Matera by Helene Stapinski. I stumbled upon this book in the midst of my research, when I discovered an article she wrote in the New York Times entitled "When America Barred Italians".
Check out the article; if you find it as intriguing as did, I recommend her book as well.
UPDATE: I ended up listening to this book via audio while I was driving the long road from Naples to Palermo just a few weeks later. So inspiring! I learned a great deal and still highly recommend the book!
Lisa Venticinque has just announce that she will be in Italy this autumn, and will be traveling throughout Campania, Calabria, & Sicilia between 25 September - 7 October. She would like to connect with as many Venticinques as possible, and will be making appoints to visit with and get to know people during that time. She will also be offering portrait sessions, to be included with the collection of portraits of Venticinques.
If you are interested or have questions, please email Lisa directly: weareventicinque@mac.com.
CASERTA - "It was as beautiful as the sun, now it will always remain with us". This is the phrase pronounced by the colleagues of Annalisa Venticinque, the young hostess of "Italo Treno" originally from Pignataro Maggiore, who died of cancer at 33 years last Friday. In his country, in the province of Caserta, the number of people with malignancies and tumors is clearly increasing. There, there is the famous ex-Pozzi landfill. To her, to the beautiful Annalisa, the private company Italo-Ntv that aims at the highest speed, has dedicated the name of a train. She had previously worked as a flight hostess for the Air One and then with Ntv on high-speed trains. In this story of affection and work, the numbers count. Because Italo has 25 convoys in its availability and, at the request of the colleagues of Annalisa, the company wanted a plaque to be affixed in the cabin of the conductor number 25 with the name of Annalisa, whose surname was just Twenty-five. A way to remember and honor her, a way for her colleagues to feel her still near her, as if she were traveling among the cars of the Italo train. For her, that job was her life made of friendships and satisfactions. Now, Annalisa Twenty-five is the name of a train, of her train.
Saturday 22nd April 2017, 12:11
Ciao tutti! I am very happy to be launching this blog, where I will post updates, host conversations, and share interesting information that comes across my path.
If you have anything you'd like to share with me, please do get in touch-- I would love to hear from you. If you would like to write to me directly, I would welcome and appreciate an email from you. Send a message to lisaventicinque@mac.com.
I look forward to bringing you along on this journey of discovery.
