After a lovely few days in Varese, the garden city of greenery (which I will speak about in another post), I'm in Torino and have just come back from a splendid walk through the old city to the river Po with my host Giacomo; traveling from public square to public square under the portal walkways. Exactly what Marc loves, walking and beholding the beauty of passing faces and old art & architecture. We rested from our walk at a cafe along the river and I was in paradise listening to murmur of the Italian language spoken around me, the birds chirping, and the strokes of oars lapping the water as boatmen propel themselves upstream.
Great fun and conversation in the evenings. Slam in Italy suffers from the same controversial issues and characters afflicting slam elsewhere in the world. It also celebrates the same joys, the major of which being the friendships (and romances) that grow out of like minded people brought together through the intimacy of poetry and performance.
Say whatever you want (good and bad) about the slam. One point cannot be denied. It has bonded people into a community (family) that would never have developed had slam not surfaced in their lives.
The Italian slam is alive and growing thanks to the good people who are pouring their unselfish their heart into it.