An insensitive remark by @diehimbeertonis triggered some old Bayram memory:

https://twitter.com/diehimbeertonis/status/1289080002722631683

When i was living in Urla, near Izmir, Turkey, I happened to ride behind a truck loaded with goats and a happy family, returning from the temporary livestock market set up for the bayram.

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It was a pitiful sight, but for the family men proudly standing on the truck bed among the ovines, holding their horns. The poor goats looked like doomed Ancien Régime aristocrats on their way to the guillotine, just more innocent: I’m sure they knew. All bleated like crying.

That is, all were crying except one…


The story of pizzeria Di Matteo in the tale of its owner, from humble origins to UNESCO tribute to Neapolitan pizzaioli.

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The “Antica Pizzeria e Friggitoria Di Matteo” is unimpressive from the outside. It looks like a typical workshop opening on a typical alley in Naples historical center, and it’s hard to believe that such a small place had given a huge contribution to the history of Neapolitan pizza.

The owner, Salvatore di Matteo, smiles when it’s mentioned to him. “The hall upstairs has one hundred and fifty seats, and so far it’s enough. …


Mütevazı köklerinden, UNESCO’nun övgüleriyle, Napoliten Pizzacılarının anısına, Di Matteo’nun pizzacısının hikayesi.

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“Antica Pizzeria e Friggitoria Di Matteo” (Tarihi Di Matteo Pizzacısı ve Tavacısı) dışarıdan sıradan bir dükkan gibi görünüyor önce. Napoli’nin tarihi merkezinin klasik dar sokaklarından birinde yer alan böylesi küçük bir yerin Napoli Pizzası’nın tarihinde bu derece etkili olduğuna inanmak zor.

Sahibi Salvatore Di Matteo, bu imayı farkettiğinde gülümsüyor. “Yüz elli kişilik bir üst salonumuz var ve bu şimdilik bize yetiyor. …


La storia della pizzeria Di Matteo ai Tribunali nel racconto del titolare, dalle origini al riconoscimento UNESCO ai pizzaioli napoletani.

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La “Antica Pizzeria e Friggitoria Di Matteo” vista dall’esterno non impressiona. Sembra una bottega che si affaccia su un classico vicolo del centro storico di Napoli, ed è difficile credere che un posto così piccolo abbia contribuito alla storia della pizza napoletana.

Il titolare, Salvatore di Matteo, sorride quando glielo si fa notare. “La sala superiore ha centocinquanta posti a sedere, e per ora ci bastano. …


In the crater of an extinct volcano, believed by the Romans to be the gate of the Underworld, ancient grapevines are producing unique wines.

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“The Mediterranean is a strange sea, inspiring sailors to turn into farmers and vice versa” says the sailing boat skipper turned winemaker Emilio Mirabella, and indeed his vineyard looks like it’s sitting on the banks of a small Mediterranean sea: Lake Avernus, a volcanic lake enclosed in a crater littered with ruins of Roman temples. …


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Yesterday while returning from errands I crossed a nice mum with two kids, all wearing surgical masks, and I moved aside to give them some room. Just walking past, my eyes caught a glimpse of kid hands holding toys, and one of those toys was a tiny, nickel plated revolver. Something clicked in my mind but it instantly declassified it as a toy. I gave it a disapproving back thought, with flashing images of so many real guns, war orphans in Turkey wearing camo and toy rifles, and my own childhood weapon toys. …


On this day, in 1789, a revolution happened. It was (almost) bloodless in the beginning, but like any revolution it sowed discord, resentment, tragedy and eventually the birth a new state.

Like in a revolution textbook, it began with a tyrant, a disgruntled people, a reluctant hero and sacrifices imposed by said tyrant on said people for a goal perceived as futile. But this specific revolution had something unique.

Virtually in every revolution there are promises of paradise and better life for oppressed people. The one begun on April 28th 1789, happened *after* the oppressed people had lived an actual…


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Ho sempre seguito distrattamente e vagamente annoiato l’annuale diatriba causata da alcuni sindaci o sedicenti politici fascisti contro #BellaCiao ma quest’anno ho deciso di pensarci.

La maggior parte di chi “condanna” o persino vieta la canzone sostiene di non essere fascista o nostalgica, accusando #BellaCiao di essere “comunista” e “divisiva.” Non ci ho mai pensato molto, finora: ma il lockdown innesca insoliti processi mentali. google.com/search?q=sinda…

Quindi ho cercato di ricordare quando e come imparai la canzone, i versi che mi sembra di conoscere da sempre, e perché continua a darmi la pelle d’oca. …


I have been distractedly intrigued and slightly annoyed by the annual controversy raised by some fascist Italian mayors or self styled politicians against #BellaCiao but this year I decided to think about it.

Most of those “condemning” or even banning the song claim to not be fascists or nostalgic of fascism, adducing that the song is “communist” and “divisive.” I had never given them much thought, until this year: lockdown can trigger unusual mind schemes google.com/search?q=sinda…

So I tried to remember when and how did I learn the song, and the lyrics that I know since forever, and why…


The blue room looks nothing like a stage.

Some casual furniture, an armchair that looks more comfortable than elegant, reading lamps, wide carpets and the piano give an intimate appearance, underlined by the voluptuous shape of the cello slumped on a chair.

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When the blue room is completed with the artists living in it, before the music starts, the public seems to vibrate with an uneasy, voyeuristic feeling: it’s not a stage, but the perfect tableau looks so natural that the sensation of being inside of someone else living room is palpable.

Only when Aylin Aslim greets us the uneasiness…

Piero Castellano

Photojournalist and writer, previously based in Turkey, Ankara lover, formerly from Sorrento, Italy.

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