| Bobina Susana Bas |
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Version 6 minutos bobina de Susana Bas:
"TELEVISIÓN: "El cor de la ciutat" (Noelia),
"ElComisario" (Sandra Fernandez), "El
Impostor" (Valeria)"Cosas que pasan"
(Alicia), "Ecos" (Sol) "HospitalCentral"
(Beatriz), "Maresme" (Mireia), "Cuéntame
cómopasó"... También en abril 2006 "Tomalo
Suave", sitcomde Fonovideo i venevision
(Miami) .
CINE: "Salvador", "Inconscientes".
CORTOMETRAJES:"Para que te pueda olvidar",
"Todo elmundo tiene algo", "Desenlaces",
"Cuentos", "Resaca", "El foro", "Justos por
pecadores", "Elisava" y"Dolor".
TEATRO:"Hedda Gabler" (Nueva York),
"Elisabeth iMaria", "Selfexposure", "Break
through", (Londres)"Effie's burning & burning
love" (Londres), "Ladispersión" (Paris);
Estudios de interpretacion en Barcelona,
Madrid,Londres, Paris y Nueva York.
Tags : video book Susana Bas actriz cine television teatro ingles frances castellano catalan |
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Affichage : 3520
Durée : 412 s |
| making_the_commute |
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Watch in HD: http://www.vimeo.com/1447580 -
So here it is in all its long-winded glory.
Part "making of" and part philosophical
meandering. It should be at least 4 minutes
shorter, but it is also a deliberate exercise
in unwieldy self-exposure and an experiment
in serious silliness.
Tags : hv20 making video techniques resources tricks filming behind the scenes |
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Affichage : 20
Durée : 449 s |
| Sicily Fishing |
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Fishing Industry in Sicily -
http://www.sensationalsicily.com
Medieval Fishing off Sicily - The most
important fishing industry of the medieval
Mediterranean was, arguably, in Sicily, and
even there fish played a modest albeit
constant role in the food of the island.
There were two kinds of fish caught in the
fifteenth century, the so-called blue fish,
mostly sardines and anchovies that had some
limited economic importance in Sicily's
export trade, and the white fish, such as
John Dory, turbot, sea bass, grouper, comber,
etc., which were secondary in economic
importance. However, fish had no overall
importance in either the diet or the economy
of medieval Sicily and the total number of
fishermen was few. But the fasting
prescriptions of the church assured that fish
would always be in demand. In data for the
vice-regent from 1415 we see that fresh and
dried fish were bought ten days out of the
month. On Friday and Saturday, fresh fish,
eel, salted little tuna, and eggs were eaten
instead of meat.
Messina, Cefalù, Termini, Trapani, and
Palermo were the five fishing centers of
Sicily in the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries, all fishing sardines for the most
part. Fish were in seasonal demand and
especially during Lent, when church-mandated
fasting requirements limited the amount of
meat that could be eaten. During the winter,
the fishing industry was involved in salting
sardines and, especially, tonnina (little
tuna, Euthynnus alletteratus).
The fishermen encircled the shoals of fish
with their seine nets and unloaded their
catch directly onto the beach. The fish were
processed for salting, a small amount perhaps
set aside for local cooks of these coastal
villages, while the fishermen victualed their
boats with bread and wine. Villages of the
interior ate freshwater fish from local
rivers and streams or eels from the Simeto
River near Paterno. In the twelfth century
eels were caught in a complicated device
called a tarusi, consisting of a series of
chambers whereby the eel is unable to turn
around and get out.
Palermo was the most important of the five
fishing towns in medieval Sicily, and in the
fourteenth century the fishermen lived in an
area of the city near the sea called the
Kalsa. A fisherman's life was a poor and hard
one. The Kalsa still exists and even today
one finds fishermen, smugglers, and mafiosi
(so they say) living there. It was in Palermo
where the net- makers were and where most of
the fishermen could be recruited.
Fishing zones were well demarcated and the
fishing of sardines from Termini was the
economically most important fishing activity.
The zone off Trapani was rich in fish, and we
know that agents for the royal kitchen of the
Angevin King in Naples, Charles d'Anjou, came
here in 1270 to buy dacteri (flying fish?)
and cervige (amberjack?). The zone off
Messina was known for its swordfish and it
still is.
Fish were also caught in more rudimentary
ways using traditional techniques that go
back to the Arab era and earlier. Usually
this meant two men in a boat with a net. The
Arab influence on Sicilian fishing and
nautical affairs in general is attested to by
the Sicilian fishing and nautical vocabulary
which is thoroughly rooted in the Arabic
language. Take, for instance, the Sicilian
word xabica, the big fishing net that is
attached to shore and moved seaward in a
great sweeping swath by a bark, a small
sailing ship. The word derives from the
Arabic word shabaka, meaning "net." But as
some scholars have pointed out, the interplay
among Arabo-Berber, Italo-Siculo, Arab, and
Turkish cultures was complex enough to find
influence a constant two- and even three- way
street in the Mediterranean Sea when it comes
to nautical matters.
There were fishermen who used another kind of
net called a spiruni which was very thin and
expensive to purchase. The archdeacon of
Cefalù bought three of these nets in 1431.
They had eighteen stitchings and cost as much
as a ton of fresh fish. Other kinds of nets
were the rizza, a bit bigger and made of
plaited grass cording, used for larger fish.
The nassa was a complicated device used for
catching eels or lobster and those fishermen
who used them were called nassaroli.
The business of fishing in Sicily was already
an ancient profession and well organized by
the fifteenth century. But fishing comprised
a whole ensemble of activities that went far
beyond fishing. There were instrument makers,
cordage makers, fishing zone administrators,
packers, haulers, net makers, and salters, as
well as the fishermen. Curiously, at the end
of the fourteenth century and into the
fifteenth century many fishermen came from
the tiny island of Lipari off Sicily's north
coast.
"Mattanza: Love and Death in the Sea of
Sicily" by Theresa Maggio
A writer explores her obsession with an
ancient Sicilian ritual steeped in the
erotics of killing.
June 5, 2000 | "I had found my island, and I
wanted to stay forever," Theresa Maggio
writes in "Mattanza," her valentine to tiny
Favignana, off the coast of Sicily, where
each spring for several years she witnessed
the tonnara, a ritualized tuna hunt dating
from ancient times. She's riveted by the
mattanza, the moment at which the giant
bluefin tuna, having been herded into an
elaborate netting system, are hauled one by
one onto the fishing boats and killed. In the
process of documenting the history and
customs of the tonnaroti, the tuna fishermen,
Maggio lays bare her own quest to become part
of life on the stark, beautiful island. Her
quixotic desire is to be more than a tourist,
more than a journalist -- to become a member
of Favignana's eccentric cast of characters
herself.
Maggio finds the ritual hunt close to
mythical, with its songs and invocations, its
bloody celebration of "the wheel of life,
death and rebirth." The traps are set to take
advantage of the bluefin's yearly migration
to the Mediterranean to spawn, and Maggio
dwells lovingly on this fusion of sex and
death:
It is possible that some of the captured tuna
that swims into Favignana's trap began life
there when their parents, in a last-ditch
effort to procreate, ejected their sperm and
eggs as they were being killed. Sex, death,
and begetting mingle in this briny vessel of
primordial juices.
She's obviously turned on by the erotics of
hunting and killing.gustibus non est
disputandum, I guess, but she lost me as she
worked this theme. At one point, having
gotten a strikingly masculine tonnaroto into
her bed, she seizes the chance to ask the
burning question: "How does it feel to kill a
giant bluefin with your bare hands?" He's not
impressed with the direction their pillow
talk is taking, and she never gets an answer.
Scenes like that have an appealing element of
self-deprecation; but in the end Maggio's
self-exposure undermines the more serious
aspects of her project. There's a neediness
to the way she longs to be accepted by the
tonnaroti, not to mention the women and older
men in Favignana's piazza and cafes. In many
ways she's butting her head against a wall,
and she knows it. There's no easy social slot
for her to fit into in Sicily, no place for
an unmarried, independent woman in her late
30s who bicycles around town and crouches in
boats, scribbling notes as the tonnaroti
work. Again and again she's asked, "Why don't
you get married and quit writing books?" The
Favignani are warm and generous to her, and
she does achieve her fondest hope when the
rais -- the distant, autocratic leader of the
tuna hunt -- tells her, "You are a tonnorota,
a member of the crew." I'm sure it was a
heartfelt moment, but she should know that
Italians are prone to extravagance. The truth
is, she'll always be a bit of a freak to
them.
By not acknowledging the tension between the
ways she feels accepted and the ways she'll
never truly fit in, Maggio ends up
sentimentalizing the Favignani and their
vanishing way of life. Her account of the
history of the Sicilian tuna fishing industry
suffers from a similar tendency to gloss over
ugly realities. She has done plenty of
research, but the overall picture is so
idyllic, with centuries of beloved,
benevolent bosses and humble, satisfied
workers, that it strains credulity. And while
I'm as annoyed as the next Italian-American
by knee-jerk references to the Mafia in
discussions of anything Italian, come on --
there's not one mention of La Cosa Nostra in
this book. Did this single corner of Sicily
really remain pure?
Most disturbing, Maggio lets emotion color
her treatment of complicated issues, notably
the role of the Japanese in the tuna fishing
industry. She casts them as wily, ruinous
intruders whose interest in the time-honored
rituals of the tonnara is not as pure as hers
and whose taste for tuna meat is somehow
deplorable. ("It was only the insatiable
appetite of the Japanese for bluefin that
kept the Favignana tonnara afloat in recent
years ... The Japanese waited with sharp
knives at Castiglione's slaughterhouse for
the Chamber of Death to give up its fruit.")
She's angry at a Japanese film crew for
filming the mattanza and getting "the royal
treatment" from the rais, "close to tears"
when they're invited onto the boat one day
and she's not. It's a tricky issue; I'd have
liked less of Maggio's schoolgirlish
resentment and more information on the
politics of the tuna industry and the choices
facing the tonnaroti.
Luckily, the Favignani resist Maggio's wish
that they be either larger than life or less
than complexly human. In the end, they emerge
from "Mattanza" as people blessed to live in
a naturally sumptuous place, hanging on to
what they can in a world that's less and less
under their control.
Mattanza
For hundreds of years, fishermen in Sicily
and Sardinia have used dense nets to capture
the Mediterranean bluefin tuna (thunnus
thinnus) in a quasi-spiritual procedure known
as the mattanza. This takes place in May and
June, when the giant fish swim past the
coasts. In Sicily, the few remaining
mattanzas take place off the island's western
point among the Egadi Islands. The term
"mattanza" comes to us from an old Spanish
word, matar, meaning "to kill." Many terms,
such as rais (head fisherman of the
mattanza), are actually Arabic in origin,
introduced in the ninth century when, during
the Arab domination of Sicily, the technique
became popular. There are indications,
however, that it is much older, possibly
originating, in some form, in the Phoenician
or Carthaginian era. Averaging over two
hundred kilograms (over four hundred pounds),
the fish are now popular in the Japanese
market, where the delicious red meat is used
in sashimi and sushi. It must be said that
this fresh tasty meat is a breed apart from
the bland whitish stuff sold in cans.
Bluefin, many of which escape into the
Atlantic, may also be consumed young.
The keys to a successful mattanza, apart from
the obvious questions of supply (overfishing
has reduced the number of larger tuna in
recent years) and weather, are organisation
and technique. A series of vast nets are
lowered into the water. The tuna are captured
in successive nets which are gradually
restricted in size and raised toward the
surface, where the fish are attacked with
what might be described as large spears in a
sophisticated trap system.
Reaching 4.3 meters (14 feet) in length and
weighing as much as 800 kilograms (1800
pounds), the bluefin is the largest tuna,
surpassing the skipjack, albacore, yellowfin
and bigeye. Unlike these other worldwide
species, the bluefin lives in the Atlantic
and Mediterranean.
The network of net chambers is called an
isola (island). One of the interesting things
about the mattanza is the team effort of the
numerous fishermen involved in each catch.
From his boat, the rais directs the work of
the men in the other small boats. Because a
mattanza is the catch of an entire school of
fish, dozens of tuna may be captured. The
ambience of bloody water and particularly
large fish, which may be compared to cattle
or large game, leaves one with a singular
impression. There's nothing like watching the
fish struggle as they are herded into ever
smaller, shallower net chambers (the final
one is called the "chamber of death") and
finally lifted onto the boats. Indeed, the
term mattanza has found its way into the
Italian vernacular as a synonym for
"massacre."
Just how long the mattanza itself survives
remains to be seen. As time passes, the tuna
are diminishing in size and numbers, while
demand increases in world markets. This has
prompted legal restrictions. A hundred years
ago, there were dozens of small "tonnare"
(tuna canneries) along the Sicilian coasts,
though the word "tonnara" originally referred
to the complex series of nets used in tuna
fishing during the mattanza. The occupation
of tuna fishing was more widespread, with
hundreds of tonnarotti (tuna fishermen)
throughout Sicily. Tunny fishing has usually
been a seasonal profession in Sicily, with
the tonnarotti catching other fish during the
autumn and winter.
Breaded fried tuna steaks are a traditional
Sicilian specialty. Tuna steaks are also good
simply grilled. For something different, try
it "Japanese-Sicilian" style --raw sprinkled
with varietal extra virgin olive oil and
freshest lemon juice.
Tags : fishing sicily mattanza palermo seafood fish industy |
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Affichage : 44492
Durée : 26 s |
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