"Addio Spaghetti and Mandolins: Italy Is Now the Land o

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"Addio Spaghetti and Mandolins: Italy Is Now the Land of Style"

Survey examines 80 publications and 1000 sites. The international press changes its mind. Simplifying things a bit.

Remember that German camper in the first Fantozzi film who, enraged by the unbearable noise keeping him awake, screams out of his tent: "Silence! Italians always noise. Always singing, guitar and mandolin!"? Remember the famous front cover of Spiegel showing a revolver on a steaming plate of spaghetti? Right. Forget all that. Popular imagination now sees the Italians very differently: a mix of style, quality, class, elegance and excellence. Is this a radical anthropological mutation? More than anything, it shows a recent change in the way we are seen. Pizza and Mafia are out, as are Pulcinello-like tomfoolery and crime. Good taste and elegance are in. Ragionier Ugo Fantozzi is relegated to the wings along with Sordi, Totò, mozzarella and Don Vito Corleone, and center-stage is taken by Ferrari, Nero d'Avola and Tod's.

This is what emerges from a survey carried out by Eta Meta Research on the occasion of the "Profeti in Patria" awards, which will be bestowed today in the Scuderie del Quirinale. The survey consists of one month's monitoring of eighty international publications and around a thousand Internet sites. Analysis of over 1100 articles about Italy that were published

A 360 GTC Ferrari in the new Ferrari Maserati showroom in Moscow (Reuters)
in April and May reveal an image that is very different from the stereotypes of the past. One stereotype has kicked out another, one might almost say. First, we were all crafty or criminal, as we plowed our way through our "macaroni"; now we're all pupils of Petronius, the arbiter elegantiae of Imperial Rome. The Chicago Tribune is alone in reminding nostalgists of bygone days about their former, fond clichés. Readers are told to be careful in Italian towns, where you can be mugged on any street corner. But the others lean over backwards with their apologies: the Sunday Times states an undeniable truth when it writes that Italy is the true and incontrovertible queen of international style: there would be little to add to this statement were it not for the fact that we live here, and we can see for ourselves in the streets of Milan, of Rome and of the provinces that the subjects of this "queen of style" reveal a somewhat questionable civic sense. Even though they dress up in Armani and eat carpaccio and sea bass.

Sure, we can feel flattered when the US weekly Maxim talks of Italian men as masters of elegance and the German Stern puts the spotlight on the innate class of Italian men and women in their choice of clothes and accessories, while the New York Times praises the quality of Italian products and foods, and the Spanish daily El Pais celebrates our wines. We can feel gratified to learn that from France (Le Figaro) to Russia (Moskovskaya Pravda) only compliments are given to the "excellence" of Ferrari. But one still wonders to what extent the high level of product quality is reflected in a similar growth in what is termed "style". Unless of course the concept of style should automatically exclude such secondary aspects as culture and civility.
So there is no need to take one's memory back to the boisterous vulgarity of the "dolce vita" -or the Trevi fountain being flogged off by Totò - to be puzzled by the adjectives that are being used abroad to describe the Italian male: "fascinating", "elegant", "alluring". A far cry from the traditional "womanizer" or "seaside playboy". And what about women? "Sexy", "polished", with "innate style". A long way from the traditional Anna-Magnani-style "sciantosa" of yore. Two hundred and thirty articles take up the subject of fashion and design. 17 are dedicated to Renzo Piano, an architect the New York Times refers to as a symbol of our age. And again: there's chef Moreno Cedroni ("the creator of Italian-style sushi"), there's San Pellegrino, and of course Barilla.

Folk wisdom used to believe you can't judge a book by its cover, but today's Italians are the labels they wear. "We have made Italy - now we need to make the Italians", said Massimo d'Azeglio. Well, what more than a century of unity never managed to accomplish, now appears - at least in the eyes of foreigners - to be a problem solved once and for all. And in fact, while our VIPs and famous personalities are completely unknown abroad (apart from a few names in the business world), the man in the street is taken as an example and considered as a standard. The man in the street? One wonders which street are we talking about, unless it is Foro Bonaparte or Via Condotti. Is it significant that 84 articles talk about brand-names Prada and Gucci, but only 80 about our cities of art treasures and our cultural heritage? It must be said that the Guardian and the Sunday Times have announced that once again this year an authentic exodus of jetsetters will swoop down into the splendid setting of Tuscany, which increasingly resembles a British colony. And it's just a pity that the only paper to dwell on the sorry state of our monuments is the Moscow News. But it is also true, as communication expert Saro Trovato, president of Eta Meta, points out, "the image the international press gives of Italy is totally different from what it was even only a few years ago". It is true that: "There are some Italian brands that are viewed as real ambassadors of style and elegance, capable of encapsulating all the values and symbols of this new vision of Italy. But perhaps, just once in a while, we wouldn't mind being seen by others as we really are. With all our vices and our virtues. A country that is a bit spaghetti and a bit sushi, much less mandolin, with a bit of Mafia, and some prestigious labels in the store windows, a number of designer yobs out among the honest folk (some more honest than others), not much refinement, and a few refineries without purification plants threatening some of the most stunning places - of which there are fortunately still plenty - in our Bel Paese. And not just in Tony Blair's Tuscany.

Paolo Di Stefano http://www.corriere.it