Dino

Dino Spreafico runs the Hotel Flora in Chiavenna, Italy. It's been in his family for sixty years. Although much of his time is taken up with the hotel, it was clear that his passion is photography. He showed me some of his published work and I was impressed. He seems comfortable making his living one way and indulging his passion in another.

Alesandra

Alesandra Matera runs Paitin Farmhouse Bed & Breakfast outside Alba, Italy. She has incredible energy and always seems happy and exuberant. Although she doesn't speak much English, she can usually make her point known through sheer enthusiasm.

Luca

Luca Elia is lives with his family outside of Alba, Italy. He's in his last year of high school and will be going to college in Milan next year. His father hopes he'll be interested in working for the family's wine business, but doesn't seem to be pushing him in any way. Luca loves riding motorcycles.

Giovanni

Giavanni Elia owns Paitin Winery in Bricco de Neive with his brother Silvano. The winery has been in their family since 1796. Their best wine is a Barbaresco. It's similar to the Barolos more common in the US, but many think is just as good. Giavanni was kind enough to give us a tour of his winery and spend some time telling us about the region's history. He was unassuming yet still obviously proud of his family's heritage.

Finally, a new post and a new adventure

I've gotten several e-mails asking me when I would post again, so here it is. The last several weeks have been a bit of a blur. Finishing the quarter in Lacoste was a marathon of broken printers, low paper and ink supplies, matting disasters, and generally panicked students. It all came together admirably with a Vernissage the students were all proud of. (And I was, too!) The weather was perfect, the sales were brisk, and the relief after so much time and effort was significant. A good time was had by all.

The last official dinner was a boisterous and bitter/sweet affair. Adam Sklenar put together a slide show of highlights from the "Spring in Lacoste" and made us all laugh before many started getting teary at the prospect of it all coming to an end. I must admit, I haven't ever had an experience like this with feeling so much affection for my students. I genuinely liked them, as well as admiring both their work and their work ethic. Eight weeks living and working together every day makes for much more intense emotions than "normal" college.

As soon as the students left on the bus for Marseille airport, Andrea and I left for Nice. We spent two days in the beautful town of Vence, ten kilometers from the Mediterranean. We walked around the old city of Nice, went to the Matisse Museum, and went to the Matisse Chapel- all delightful. The Cote d'Azur is very dramatic with huge mountains rising from the sea.

We headed east and north into the Piedmont region of Italy and happened upon a rural B+B outside the small town of Alba. This is wine country and is famous for it's Barolo and Barbaresco wines. They're hardy and heady wines and well know in the States. After two days touring and tasting, we traveled to north of Milan and stopped near the northern border in a town called Chiavenna.

Today, we drove into Switzerland and stopped in a tiny town called Guarda, halfway up a mountain and with a panoramic view of the valley. It's raining, so Andrea and I have holed up in a room in our pensione and are catching up with e-mail, pictures, and blogs. We're looking at snow covered, jagged peaks out our window. We're drinking wine given to us from the proprietor of a winery I photographed the other day. All is right with the world.

Stay tuned for pictures. . .

Monsieur Ariski Follow-up

The day after I photographed Ariski, Andrea and I were surprised by the sound of dogs fighting and yelling in the lane outside our apartment. I rushed out the door and a yellow Lab ran past me. I recognized her as a sweet dog who is often around the village, making friends, scrounging for snacks. She was closely followed by Ariski's dog. I stood between him and the Lab and he seemed satisfied with my presence as a deterrent to continuing the fight.

Ariski came up the lane, yelling at the top of his lungs. He was obviously incredibly angry and I was the closest object for him to vent at. I don't speak a lot of French, but I usually can pick some words out of most conversations. Not so with Ariski's tirade. It was completely incomprehensible to me. Je suis désolé, Monsieur, I said, although I had nothing to be sorry about. She wasn't my dog, after all. He came closer to me and I tensed up, but he then turned toward the path to the chateau. He continued yelling, screaming really, all the way up the path. Five minutes later, we could still hear him up by the chateau.

OK, maybe he was just upset. Or drunk. Or both. Or maybe he's not so gentle.

More Cemeteries

I've continued to shoot cemeteries here in France. Please go here if you'd like to see more.