Last Spring a young woman belted out Alicia Keys’ “No One” at a blind audition for Italy’s The Voice. Judges and viewers sat with open mouths (a bocca aperta) when they realized that the spirited singer was an Ursuline nun dressed in a plain religious habit (abito), sensible black shoes (scarpe nere) and a crucifix (crocifisso) around her neck.
Suor (Sister) Cristina Scuccia, 26 years old, not only won the competition but conquered the entire world (ha conquistato il mondo intero), surpassing more than 100 million views on YouTube (superando i 100 milioni di visualizzazioni su YouTube). This month Universal released her first album, called simply “Sister Cristina,” which features two unreleased songs and ten covers, including “Like a Virgin.”
Sister Cristina, a devotee of the Madonna and a fan of "the other Madonna," says she chose the tune “with no desire to provoke or shock” (senza nessuna volontà di provocare o di scandalizzare). Reading the lyrics, she realized that it is a song about the capacity of love to make people new (una canzone sulla capacità dell’amore di fare nuove le persone) and redeem them from their past.
Sister Cristina interpreted the lyric “touched for the very first time” as “ il tocco di Dio” (the touch of God) when he called her to una vita nuova (a new life), restoring to her la purezza, la dignità di essere Figlia Amata da Lui (the purity, the dignity of being His Beloved Daughter).
Like Madonna’s thirty years ago, Sister Cristina's video of “Just Like a Virgin” is set in Venice. A few of the suggestive lines have been omitted, and the racy number now sounds, as Sister Cristina puts it, more like a ballata romantica (romantic ballad) or una preghiera laica (a secular prayer) than un brano pop (a pop song). A reviewer described it as “una sorta di inno religioso” (a sort of religious anthem).
The unlikely singing star with the celestial voice (con la voce celestiale) was born in Sicily in 1988. Although she originally came to Rome to prepare for a theatrical career, Cristina became a novice (novizia) in 2009 and worked for two years with poor children (ragazzi poveri) in Brazil. Returning to Rome, she first gained recognition in 2013 when she won a Christian singing contest (concorso canoro).
Because Sister Cristina has taken a vow of poverty (voto di povertà), proceeds from the recording are going to help projects in the congregation. Other songs on the disc include Pink’s “Try,” Coldplay’s “Fix You” and Cyndi Lauper’s “True Colors.”
L’unico brano (the only song) in Italian is “L’amore vincerà’” (Love will win). Here are the words to the refrain (ritornello):
“La vita ci stupirà col suo disegno
Progetto che diventerà capolavoro
Basta fidarsi e poi
L’amore vincerà’”
(Life will surprise us with its design / project that becomes masterpiece / It’s enough to have faith and then / Love will win.) Sister Cristina might well be singing about her own life story.
For more on “Il pop-rock di Suor Cristina” in Italian, with a translation of key words into English and French, click here for the latest from Paola Gagliano’s always-enlightening “Italyamonews.”
Words and Expressions
brano inedito –- new or unreleased song
prendere i voti –- take vows
la vincitrice -– the winner
il disco di debutto –- debut disc
suora laica -– lay sister
farsi suora/ farsi prete -– to become a nun/a priest , to enter a religious order
Our blogger of the week is the charming Dianne Hales, who has written thousands of articles and penned a number of books, most importantly on learning the Italian language. She is the author of the best-seller La Bella Lingua, an invaluable tool for promoting the Italian language, which, in her words, was "a true labor of love that opened up a world of new experiences and new friends. Of its many delightful consequences, the most unexpected was an Italian knighthood." Dianne also won “Best Art & Culture Blog” in our 2013 Blogger Awards for her blog “Becoming Italian Word by Word.”
Dianne, where are you from originally?
I was born in Scranton, Pennsylvania, and I’m 100% Polish - although Italians assure me that I have an Italian soul.
What made you fall in love with Italy?
Years ago, I was invited to give a talk on sleep (I’d written my first book on the subject) in Gstaad. Switzerland was cold and bleak, and I decided to take a train south to Italy. I arrived knowing only one Italian phrase: “Mi dispiace, ma non parlo l’italiano” (I’m sorry but I don’t speak Italian). Despite the language barrier, I was enchanted by Italy’s beauty and history and even more so by its people. I so craved conversation with them that I vowed to study the language. It took many, many years, and along the way I became so intrigued by the history of the language that I decided to write a book about it. That’s how La Bella Lingua was born.
Have you ever lived in or thought about living in Italy? If so, tell us about it!
My husband Bob and I have spent a month or so in Italy every year for the last 25 years. Although we’ve explored different regions, we’ve mainly stayed in the Maremma, along the western coast of Tuscany. We rented the same house for many years, so it felt like our Italian home. I loved playing “castellana” (the lady of the villa) and doing ordinary things like hanging out laundry or picking flowers for the table. I’ve also spent extended periods on my own in Rome and Florence while researching my books. I rented apartments in the centro so I could walk everywhere and immerse myself in local life. Since I was “on assignment,” I pushed myself to do things that I might not as a tourist, such as going to a recital of Dante’s Inferno in a Florence neighborhood club and to one of Roberto Benigni’s Dante readings in Rome. Much of the Italian whisked by me, but I understood enough to be tremendously moved by the power of the words and by the experience of hearing them among Italians (many of whom wept).
When I was doing research on the life of the real Mona (Madame) Lisa for my most recent book MONA LISA: A Life Discovered, I stayed in apartments near where she had lived. I went to the churches where she worshipped and even knelt in the confessional in her family’s chapel. I walked the streets -- far off the beaten tourist path -- that she walked. I ventured into the building where she lived with her husband and children. Most movingly, I spent several evenings in the ruined convent of Sant’Orsola where Lisa lived the last years of her life, died and was buried. The building, both horrible and magnificent, held me. I wanted to linger because I felt such a connection to this Renaissance woman and her city.
In your blog you talk about the beauty of learning Italian. Why do you see it as such an important language to learn?
When I began to study Italian, a casual acquaintance asked if I could have chosen a less relevant language. I should have said Urdu, Pakistan’s native language, which ranks just after Italian (#19) in terms of the world’s most spoken languages. But he was wrong. Italian opens the door to everything: when you study la bella lingua, you also learn about history, art, music, religion, food, fashion, cinema, science -- everything Western civilization has created. And if you were not born Italian, the language can be a passport into the Italian soul.
Your book LA BELLA LINGUA is a best-seller for those looking to learn Italian, and you even attained knighthood. Can you tell us more about that?
The subtitle of LA BELLA LINGUA is “My Love Affair with Italian, the World’s Most Enchanting Language,” and it truly was a labor of love. As one reader put it, it’s not about how to learn Italian, but why. Much to my surprise and delight, it touched the hearts of people who have a passion for Italy, its culture, its people and its language. People from around the world tell me that my little book has inspired them to study the language, research their family history, travel to Italy or try Italian recipes. What a kick!
When LA BELLA LINGUA was first published, I worried most about how Italians would react. It did seem, as an Italian friend put it, “un po’ audace” (a bit bold) for a foreigner to tell the story of another country’s language. Instead, they embraced it and invited me to speak at Italian Cultural Institutes around the country.
Several years ago, I met Italy’s Ambassador to the U.S., and he commented that my book may have had a greater impact simply because I am not Italian. I don’t sound like a proud cheerleader promoting my country, but like someone who genuinely admires what may be Italy’s least celebrated achievement: its luscious language.
I was stunned when I was notified that the President of Italy had conferred upon me the highest honor that could be given to a non-Italian: a knighthood. In the Italian Consulate in San Francisco in 2011, I became a Cavaliere dell'Ordine della Stella della Solidarietà Italiana -- a Knight of the Order of the Star of Italian Solidarity, an award given to foreigners who have contributed to Italy’s culture. Mine was specifically for LA BELLA LINGUA’s contribution in promoting the Italian language. In addition to an elegant certificate, the award comes with very impressive bling. I received three medals: one with a large bow for formal occasions; another with a smaller bow for less formal events, and a stick-pin to wear with business attire. Whenever I have the opportunity to wear one, I do so with great pride.
When and why did you start your blog?
I started blogging early in 2009 to reach out to Italian students and teachers and promote LA BELLA LINGUA, which came out that May. I wanted to create an online global community of Italian lovers - and I have! My blog and website have attracted more than 1,000,000 visitors.
That's impressive! Who follows your blog? Tell us about your readers.
My readers come from just about every country in the world -- Italy, England, Ireland, Poland, China, India, Japan, Australia, Samoa, Russia, Morocco, Germany, Brazil, Chile. A woman on a ranch in South Africa wrote to say my blog inspired her to do a series of paintings of Italian gardens. A group of nuns doing missionary work follow it regularly. Many teachers use the blog to spark conversation in class. One woman reads each post to her blind elderly brother, who was born in Naples.
Lately, as I’ve been traveling for presentations of MONA LISA, I invariably meet people who have been following my blog for years. A few actually print out the posts and keep them in binders (which is something I should do myself).
What do you blog about?
I blog about Italy and every aspect of its culture, almost always with some tie to the language. If I’m writing about Natale for example, I’ll include words for Christmas songs, traditions, foods and celebrations. I’ve featured romantic sayings for Valentine’s Day, colorful idioms and their history, and Italian words you won’t learn in class. I’ll also take on topics in the news -- again with a language spin. For instance, when the Costa Concordia cruise ship went aground off the Italian coast (in a tiny town I know well), I wrote about what the coast guard said to the captain who had abandoned ship -- an obscenity that was heard around the world. This week I wrote about the story of St. Martin’s summer, early Italian words in Rome’s catacombs and crypts and a new Italian word, accometare, invented when a European team that included many Italians successfully landed a satellite on a comet.
What would you advise people to do if they were looking to learn Italian?
Try everything! Turn your car into a classroom with Italian-language CDs. Download podcasts to your iPod, MP3 player, or cell phone, and listen on planes, trains, buses, and places in between. Sample all the online options, such as Duolingo and News in Slow Italian. Read Italian papers online. If you can find some, Italian action comics, with heroes such as Tex, a time-traveling cowboy, and Diabolik, “king of terror,” provide a fun way to improve your vocabulary and reading skills.
Watch classic movies such as Roma, città aperta or La dolce vita. Even if you can’t carry a tune, sing along with popular Italian songs on Youtube. You can find Italian giochi di parole (word games), including cruciverba (crosswords) and anagrammi (anagrams) in inexpensive books or online. Play the Italian versions of popular board games, such as Monopoly and Scarabeo (Scrabble), with friends or fellow students. Or ask an Italian to teach you card games such as Scopa and Briscola. (Just don’t bet any money on them.)
Hang out with people who speak Italian. Join a bocce team or a Vespa club. Watch a soccer match in an Italian bar or restaurant. Take cooking classes taught by Italians. Go to Italian street festivals. For informal opportunities to speak Italian, look for a local conversation group. Enroll in a class at schools, community centers, Italian cultural organizations, or, best of all, in Italy. Above all, have fun!
All your blog posts are interesting but can you recommend one or two especially for ITALY Magazine readers?
Many of the posts have been about the book’s publication and my international book tour, but I will be focusing more on Florence, as it was in Mona Lisa’s day and as it is today. Of course, the city has a special place in my heart since it is the cradle of the Italian language and the place where I first heard and spoke la bella lingua.
Thank you for talking to ITALY Magazine, Dianne! Happy blogging.
Last week a small landing craft (un piccolo lander) boldly ventured where no manmade creation had ever gone before. After a ten-year journey (un viaggio di dieci anni) millions of miles from earth, “Philaen,” created by the European Space Agency, landed on a comet (una cometa) zooming toward the sun.
Italians, who have been at the forefront of the international Rosetta Mission, coined a new word for the feat: accometare—far more precise than the alighting on land (atterrare) of a mere airplane. Italian's space-specific vocabolario (vocabulary) already includes the lilting words allunaggio for moon landing and tuta spaziale for spacesuit.
“Anche l’Italia sbarca sulla cometa” (Italy also disembarks on the comet), declared a headline in La Repubblica, noting that, through l'Agenzia spaziale italiana (the Italian space agency), university ricercatori (researchers) and the strumenti scientifici a bordo (the scientific instruments on board), Italy had made un contributo fondamentale alla riuscita della storica impresa (a fundamental contribution to the success of the historic enterprise).
For everyone involved in the project, Philean's complicated, nerve-wracking touchdown turned into “sette ore di terrore” (seven hours of terror). The small device--grande come una lavatrice, ma più intelligente (as big as a washing machine but more intelligent)—bounced several times on the surface of Comet 67P before settling into place.
With Philean’s first transmission, the centro di controllo missione (mission control center) erupted into lungo applauso (long applause). “Sorrisi, abbracci, e qualche lacrima” (smiles, hugs and some tears), a journalist reported.
Philean and the mission specialists communicated via tweets "in un dialogo personale, emotivo e divertente" (a personal, expressive and entertaining dialogue) -- described in the Italian press as un nuovo modo per rendere più accessibile e comprensibile l'ultima fase di una lunga e complessa operazione scientifica (a new way of rendering more accessible and comprehensible the last phase of a long and complex scientific operation).
Here is part of the cambio (exchange):
"Pronta a saltare?" (Ready to take off?)
"Separazione confermata!" (Separation confirmed!)
“Arrivano persino gli auguri del capitano Kirk di Star Trek, ovvero l'attore canadese William Shatner.” (The best wishes of Captain Kirk of Star Trek, or rather the Canadian actor William Shatner, also are coming.)
After a long wait for a transmission: "Ciao Terra, bello tornare in contatto.” (Hello Earth, how nice to be in contact again!)
“Mi sgranchisco un po' le gambe dopo oltre 10 anni..." (I’m stretching my legs a bit after ten years…)
As the lander approached the comet: "Wow! Mi pare di galleggiare... 67P sempre più vicina" (I seem to be floating…67P is always closer)
“Accometato! Ecco il mio nuovo indirizzo: 67P” (Landed on the comet! Here is my new address: 67P!)
“Tocco una cometa e mi sento bene!" (I touch a comet, and I feel great!)
Words and Expressions
"Houston, abbiamo un problema” -- “Houston, we have a problem"
A nun at my Catholic grade school once regaled us with dramatic tales of early Christians in Rome hiding from persecutors in the underground tunnels called the catacombs. Not so, I learned on a recent City Wonders tour of Rome's catacombs and crypts.Le catacombe – derived from the Greek for “under” and the Latin for “cavity”--have always served as burial grounds.
My etymological dictionary defines a catacomba as a “complesso cimiteriale sotterraneo” (underground cemetery complex) in which “i primi cristiani” (the first Christians) buried their dead and “celebravano il loro culto” (celebrated their cult).
The ancient Romans, who cremated dead family members and kept their remains in urns, prohibited the burial of corpses within the city walls. Jews and followers of the “cult” of Christianity were forced to dig graves outside the Eternal City in the soft volcanic tufa rock along the major roads leading to Rome. From the second to the sixth centuries, they constructed some 375 miles of tomb-lined tunnels, creating a massive subterranean labyrinth with an estimated two million graves.
They also created some words that have survived to this day. One is dormitorio, the root of English’s dormitory. “It comes from dormo, or ‘I sleep,’” explained our knowledgeable and engaging tour guide Mike Botula. “Early Christians believed that the dead were ‘resting’ until the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.”
A burial chamber was known as a cubicula (cubicle), a meaning that, as Mike quipped, wouldn’t surprise anyone who has ever worked in one. To let in fresh air, the diggers cut shafts called luminaria, somewhat like chimneys, that stretched up to the surface and “illuminated” three or four levels of underground graves.
As followers of a secret and forbidden religion, Christians relied on images and codes rather than words. Still visible in the catacombs are colombe (doves), symbolizing the soul, and ancore (anchors), representing the cross. The Greek word “fish” appears often because it contains the first letters of the phrase “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.”
After the invasion of barbarians from the North in the fifth century, the catacombs were abandoned and forgotten for almost a millennium. But Italian, which grew out of the vernacular or street Latin of ancient Rome, survived.
At another stop on the fascinating tour, I saw something I’d read about in my research for LA BELLA LINGUA but never before beheld: one of the earliest examples of written Italian words. They appear in an underground fresco in the basilica of San Clemente, a multi-level church that our guide Mike described as “archeological lasagna,” with various layers built atop each other.
At some time in the eleventh century, an artist depicted a Roman pagan named Sisinnius, who sent his servants to capture St. Clement during his reign as Pope from 92 to 99 A.D. In the painting, Sisinnius, unaware that his men are dragging a stone column instead of Clement, yells at them in coarse street Italian: "Fili de le pute, traite! Gosmari, Albertel, traite! Falite dereto colo palo, Carvoncelle!" (Come on, you sons of bitches, pull! Come on, Gosmari, Albertello, pull! Carvoncello, give it to him from the back with the pole!")
The pontiff’s response in Latin appears in a cross-shaped inscription: "Duritiam cordis vestris, saxa trahere meruistis," which means "You deserved to drag stones due to the hardness of your hearts."
