Michelangelo Closing – Michelangelo Closing!

Posters with the Orvito Arts and Crafts Guild logo covering the windows of the Michelangelo workshop are somewhat like a lace curtain that hints at something on the other side of the glass: it’s not really clear what’s going on inside, I can’t see it. And I believe that the orbiters still do not really understand this, otherwise how can the silence (even of the institutions) that followed the news be explained, which shuts down Michelangelo. The rhetoric of the part of history that goes away, the traditions that are not preserved, the potential “holes” in the fabric of the city of reference like the store are all considerations that I have left to others. What fascinated me was that one more American orvitana than many other orvitans, Erica Paulie Bizarre, was able to focus on some of the lines that everyone might be thinking. I resume and translate the text published on his blog (erikabizzarriorvieto.com), the best but certainly with the lowest yield. I would like to believe that there is a strong hope in everyone that one can take back the reins of the shop and the wooden horses that are left to guard the alleys, along with the benches that still welcome the tired backs of tourists and orvietans. .

Thanks to the Michelangeli family it will be okay!

Michelangelo Closing

Once upon a time there was a man and once there was a shop and an alley that had a name. If we were talking about Michelangelo we were talking about Orvito and if we were talking about Orvito in the minds of many. Michelangelo wasUsually GualverioThe end of a dynasty of artisans.

Centuries ago, Emperor Diocletian ordered that children should follow in their father’s footsteps. This happened centuries ago but it still seemed normal for children to follow their father’s tradition. Gualverio grew up smelling of wood saw, he learned its secrets and how to do it from his father, who learned it from his father and the next, even before him. There were also several uncles in the family, and all could somehow trace their origins to Michelle, a craftsman born in 1789, when Italy was not united.

Gualverio had his own way of working with wood compared to his predecessors, he especially liked to discover the hidden nature of fibers, their soul. Although his workshops continue to make furniture, Gualverio has remained a child in a sense and has created a complete mezzanine capable of delighting both children and adults. When he died – and it would not be his time yet – his soul was captured in the epitaph he wanted in his tomb.

They will come and remember him as a good magician,

Only a handful can dream,

Pieces of sunlight, joy and poetry.

Within the rigid sponge walls of the Orvito

Gualverio’s small pets were the perfect gift for newborns. With the help of a collection of little frogs, I wrote a story for these children.

Once upon a time – stories always started like this – once upon a time, but so long ago, a city was born on a hill. Like us.

Most of the houses were very small and made of tuff, and tuff saw the birth of children who later became mothers and fathers and then grandparents. The people in this town were quiet. They loved to walk past the clouds and swell up and watch the sunlight play with the nearby mountains. They were waiting to be swallowed every spring and the fields changed from wheat green to golden yellow. They knew that October meant grapes এবং and also chestnuts, which were fried in fire until the skin was black, but the decoration was always sweet.

Now, in this town, there lived a man who had three daughters – he loved his daughters and he loved animals. So one day he decided to make a cat for them so that they could accompany him. And then he made dogs – even lions – and some frogs – tell me what animal you want and I’ll do it for you.

During the day these animals all believed that they were made of wood, but at night, when no one saw them, they began to tell each other stories about what they saw during the day. Cats don’t really say much – cats aren’t like dogs and they’re by her side. Even the owls were actually intelligent old owls that clung to their nests or branches and the more they saw, the less they talked, the less they talked and the more they listened, the more they became wiser. But there’s a family of frogs making hellish noises – and believe me they didn’t croak – adults will tell you that about frogs, croaking – they chirp, and whistle, trail, and mutter. Can you do it Try and let me hear.

They wander around to see what others are doing – jumping on the dog’s back for rice for free, playing with cats trying to catch them but frustrated. There were big frogs and small frogs, green frogs and brown frogs. And one day a few frogs jumped into a plastic ball and flew to the other side of the ocean (they might have been swimming but it would have taken much longer).

Soon they arrived at a house in Baltimore where there was a little girl named Charlotte. The frogs hoped he would realize that they could be his special friends and they liked him so much that they invited brothers and sisters – Charlotte finally discovered that she had a whole family of frogs, who accompanied her to solve the problems of mother and father. – And Charlotte was happy and laughed and then mom and dad forgot their problems and laughed with her: you can almost touch the aura of happiness that forms a big happy family from person to person, a family laughs with a frog. And that’s how we like to remember Gualverio. Now that time has changed, the store is closed, and Arvieto will never be the same again.

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