 Welcome everybody here to the Martin E. Segal Theatre Center, the Graduate Center CUNY. My name is Frank Henschka. I'm the director of the Segal Center. And thank you for coming out in late December and on a cold winter day. Normally we don't do programs anymore. The semester has already ended. The students are home. But it was the only day we could do it on December 11. And it's an important evening, an important continuation of our Italian American Playwrights Project. And I've been involved with it for many, many years together with my great colleague, producer Valeria, who is also with us here. If you look in the program on the QXR code, you will find a lot of information. And it's an important evening because we are continuing our involvement. It's the fourth edition that we welcome Graziano Graziano, who came here from Rome. He flew, he was, you were in the airplane this morning still. Yeah. And he came with Giuseppina, also a writer about theater and performance in Italy. So really welcome. Thank you for coming. This shows you how significant this evening is of this great writer who we lost, Torre. And we'd like to welcome also the agent and the agency who represents him here in America. So welcome very much here. And the translator, Anthony, who will also give a little introduction to each of what we're going to hear, six pieces. We're going to read the first two, three, four pages the most. So we get a little insight, but we will have a little introduction to it. He will make some remarks on the translations once we sit down here on the panel afterwards. And we have a little time for Q&A. And then afterwards we have a little bit of wine and Valeria graciously brought some panettone. Is that right? Is that true? This is what the word on the street is. So you will be rewarded for coming out. We all need great theater, as we know, but also we need great audiences. We need people like you taking the time. And I would like to welcome our national audience. We are on howlround.com. A lot of viewers are now online because during the time of Corona, we did over 200 programings online. So a lot of people follow us online, right? And often do not come, especially in such a busy time. And everybody who lives in New York knows how busy this time is right now, everywhere in the world, but especially now. So again, welcome everybody, the Italian Cultural Institute for their support of this evening. We are on Media Pater Wright Tread 365 in Rome, a production company, Valeria also is involved. So it is really a great, great honor to have an evening about someone who we lost, a great writer, a thinker for the theater and who touched on something that moved people and was meaningful and important. And their voices from another place, from another country, some say it's almost like from a distant star when you're in America, but we are a place here at the Segalby Bridge academia and professional theater, international and American theater. And we want to be there for those voices to be a host, present them and give them the very best possibility to really be heard. So I handed over to Valeria and you guys come over here, come in front, come closer if you want, you know, here. So we have a circle, we are big believers in circles and that is important. Everything should be done in a circle if possible. So Valeria, thank you. Thank you everybody to be here. After the corona time, we had a very tough third edition of this project. So I moved to be in person again. This is the first time we are again in person with this project. And we decided with Frank to dedicate our fourth edition to just one author, that in my opinion is one of the greatest in Italy, and a late author that he left so soon. And he didn't write a lot for the other, but he wrote for television and movies. But we will introduce him during the panel. So I just want to acknowledge everybody, friends, actors, and director Stella and Anthony, first of all, and Julia, that she came from Italy too, from Rome to stay with us and support us. So thank you very much. And that's it. So enjoy the evening and let's go later during the panel. Hello. The first monologue is perfect, perfect lady. A woman talking about the experience of traffic in the city and almost hallucinatory vision of the chaos of the streets. She's talking at four various points of the month or tonight we'll only be listening to the beginning. Reflecting different points in her menstrual cycle with all the psychic aspects that go along with that fact. The city is a wave of chaos. And I'm pure chaos right alongside with the rest. Hordes of tourists flooding the sidewalks of the city center, trooping along after tour guides waving colorful little banners. Each troop of tourists has their own color, stumbling forward like robots, slamming into things, doing their best not to glimpse their own deep and abiding desire to turn around and go home back to their own communities where people love each other so different from us. I need to keep from crying. Please let me not cry. Hope I don't start. I can sense their well founded fears of being poisoned, robbed, murdered, their eyes wide an alarm of been wary vigilance, quarters all pumping through their veins, melatonin leveled zeroed out. Not until they're safely aboard the flight home will they be able to decompress as they exchange looks of mute emotional solidarity, their eyes welling over with tears and meaningful glances. We made it for going home like Vietnam vets flying back aboard those noisy cargo aircrafts. These plane trees, the plane trees of Rome, these boulevards lined with row upon row of magnificent plane trees. And no one seems to know that by their nature, a plane tree cannot stand the presence of another plane tree beside it. Never once in the great outdoors will you see a straight line of plane trees because the plane is one of the very few trees in nature that simply cannot abide having a fellow plane tree beside it. A plane is a solitary tree, but somebody somewhere simply decided to line up 10,000 plane trees all bewildered and lost, plane trees crying out in anguish and now I have to keep myself from crying. And the traffic, the sheer hatred that traffic knows how to unleash a hatred that spins around like the great circle of life because if I'm driving a car, then I hate scooters. I abhor bicycles and I'm ready to slaughter all the pedestrians one by one. If I'm riding a scooter, then I fear cars and I'm impatient with cyclists and old people who creep slowly along the sidewalk. Whereas if I'm on foot, I'd be willing to carry a pump action shotgun and shoot everyone I see without distinction, checking each body to make sure they're really goners and not just play impossible. Like you see those murder headlines, he survived by playing dead. And now I need to hold firm and not cry. Then the pedestrian who cuts right in front of me, damn idiot, but he turns out to be my son, my eldest. Ricardo, wait, what are you doing out here? You're supposed to be at school. While the car behind me honks furiously, you asshole, why the fuck are you honking at me? What does everybody want from me? I won't start crying. I must not cry. And then all these thoughts exploding in my brain, the annual boiler inspection, the letter that needs to be sent to our condominiums administrative office, the test for celiac disease that my younger son Julio needs to take. Why my iPad screen no longer seems to have the rotate feature I like so much. All those useless things I never even knew I wanted, but no, I can't do without them. At this point, if I'm holding an iPad and the screen won't rotate, it'll ruin my whole day. I'll be right there about to burst into tears. And the one thing I must do is not start crying. All things considered, this traffic is also a vast movement of powerful energy. Hardworking people who go to their offices day after day or pick up their children or run errands of all kinds struggling to remain, if not happy, then at least alive. Well, it's a movement of people who are holding out, keeping on, and I'm just like all of them. That's what I need to tell myself. I'm a part of the whole, not entirely alone and completely misunderstood the way I actually feel. And they're not all out to get me the way it feels right now. Who the fuck are you honking at? I'm with them. I'm part of them. And I must not cry. I must not cry because I have work to do because this month I have an important objective. And because I have to work hard on my piece and I know I can do it. And when I think this way, I feel such a wave of self pity wash over me and that my eyes start to fill with tears. My husband calls to ask me something that he suddenly can't remember. And he hears my labored breathing and asks, what's wrong? Let's come over you. And I say nothing. And he asks me, are you having a period? What are you saying? And he responds in sheer terror telling me to stay calm, that everything's okay. And he says it in the tone of an FBI hostage negotiator holding a megaphone as he tries to reason with a madman in an A shirt, you know, wife feeder holding 10 people hostage in a hardware store. After a minute or two, while I can't even remember what I just screamed at my husband, I look around and everything's in slow motion. All liquid. And my head is ringing with those advertising slogans directed at women. All the messages that marketers aim at women to get them to buy perfume or a piece of jewelry or a dress. You are special. Do things your way. Think like a queen. What more do you need? You're beautiful just the way you are. You're the one. Live your life in style. It's not just a choice. It's your choice. I mean phrases that mean absolutely nothing. So they do sound epic and extraordinary hypnotic words that warm your heart without really saying a thing. And that dig a great big invisible hole deep inside you. And now I definitely can't start crying. I mustn't cry. I need to get a grip on myself. I have to top it out this month. I've got a major goal to achieve. And I need to get it done. Don't cry. You're special. A choice. Your choice. Now I'm sobbing. I'm crying like a river. My period started an hour ago. Our second piece is in mezzo al mare. I'm at sea. It's a young man speaking about waiting for a phone call. A call from a young woman he's in love with. A traffic accident he was recently involved in. And for which he's going to be a witness in a court case. He's quite a talker and his musings range from details of a tennis match to large philosophical observations about life. I was waiting for her to phone me like always. On a TV the presenter was announcing a segment on financial astrology. This is an excellent time for Gemini's to invest, she said. But that's not what was putting me in a bad mood. Nor was it the cake I was eating. A chocolate cake that had actually come in a fabulous aroma type package. I kept on waiting for her to call. But that wasn't what was ruining my mood. Of course not. I hadn't heard or seen her in months. Or perhaps we should say that for months I've been hearing her voice seeing her face everywhere. She'd become an obsession of mine. I don't know. At home, at the office, on the street, in my rear view mirror, on billboards and bus stops, the front pages of newspapers, straight sheets of paper on the sidewalk. I kept seeing Ellen everywhere. Once I even saw her on the skip mark in the asphalt, it wasn't an easy time. I was having trouble getting asleep at night. That is, at night, I did sleep and I did dream. But my dreams were pointless. I could have dreamt wonderful things like flying or making love with gorgeous women. No such one. I kept having pointless dreams about going into a cafe and ordering espresso. Double parking my car. One night I even dreamed I was dreaming. So endlessly depressing. The real reason for my bad mood though wasn't that. It was having a testifying court. About a car crash that had taken place months before on the Vioralia, which involved me in a way. Though all I can recall of that evening are scattered fragments. The Vioralia, 3.30 a.m., driving home from a wedding. There was an accident. An accident that I, so to speak, witnessed. Now the accident had happened, no doubt about that. It was a serious accident. Spectacular one. The car right ahead of me had been sideswiped by a truck. That was that. Then the next morning we lost a major match. We were up against a bunch of kids from Tuscania, which is a delightful little city with a delightful little historical center full of despicable young people. Despicable, but tremendous at ping-pong. A few friends of mine and I play ping-pong, semi-professional level in the commonly juried pursuit. Anyway, we thought we were going to go in and teach these young kids from Tuscania a lesson that they wouldn't soon forget. Instead they beat us. And then their coach shot us a murderous glare. He weighed a good 225 pounds. Men who weighed 225 pounds can really shoot murderous glare. I'm sure enough, our defeat at Tuscania had been a bloody murder. Even so, my lousy mood wasn't caused by the memory of that. It was because of my testimony in court. Because it goes without saying. Testifying implies, let's not even say an awareness, but at least a reasonably detailed knowledge of something we're involved in, which is what I find so difficult. I couldn't even tell you who I am. Or really, I should say I know more or less who I am, but what I can't stand is people who know exactly who they are. People who know themselves. They know how to say, this is the way I am. This is how I've become. I have this reaction for this reason. Just think that other reason is why I behave this way. Is this some sort of mania these days? Where we know how to describe ourselves so perfectly? We don't know. We can't possibly know. Whatever we may or may not know these days, we just love being able to describe ourselves. I'm one of those people who, if anyone says this to me, then I, in that case, I'm a guy who, let me tell you, won't hesitate to say that. I've always reacted to such and such and just like this thing. Anyone who knows me will tell you. Everyone knows themselves. Everyone knows the way they are. Everyone can tell you the way they're put together. But I can safely say it. Unlike everyone else. I know nothing. Nothing about else. Nothing about people and the things around you. I don't understand a thing. Which is a wonderful thing to be able to say. It takes a self-respect and a conscience and a genuine courage to say it. People, let me tell you, I really and truly don't understand a fucking thing. A slightly older man talking about food in a headlong, almost free-form discussion of the Italian way of eating. A strong, almost harangue philosophical description of the nation's relationship with food. Italy is this country you ride through by train and it's full of verdant hillsides and history and river valleys and artistic cities and traditions of all kinds and literature and poetry. But basically what we'd like to do most is eat. Mange. I mean for reasons shrouded in the mystery that may have something to do with our memories of war. That war which truly ruined us all. We're now this country that loves to eat. This country filled with vitality and virility that eats when the time comes to eat without even stopping to give it a second thought. A country that quite simply eats more than any other country on earth because there's no country on the planet that eats more than we. Mange. We're a country that eats when I live sands of butts. I mean for real after the war maybe to diffuse the drama just a little bit we sat down we started eating away. Eat. Not that the war is over. Thank you. What are you saying thank you for? Just eat. And we spend decades now eating all kinds of things. This is good. It tastes funny but what is it? It's lard. I don't get it. What? It's lard. Eat it. It's good. It's rich. Mange. It's fried bread. Eat it. It's grains. Mange. It's lean. Mange. I don't even know what it is. Eat. Mange. Mange. Eat your subpoena because the war might always come back. I mean there are plenty of other countries that have faced the harsh ordeal of war but still this incredible ravenous hunger never came to any of them. No one's ever heard of a country that for decades after the war still had the unbelievable hunger that we all have. I mean what we think of is the best thing in the world is if after dinner you feel a little bit queasy then that's the height of pure joy. If you beat until you feel ill then it really means that the war must be miles away and that's how we like things best for war to be far, far away at a safe distance. I mean in a sense you could say that we warred off war with bowls full of a big ziti. That's right. We subconsciously invoke mukumba rituals against war using lasottos or porcini mushrooms. Sticks of butter. We make these mukamba sacrifices for war to be far, far away at a safe distance. I mean in a sense you could say that we warred off war. I said that already. I mean we have this let's call it gastronomic pacifism. We're pacifists with our mouths full with high points of pacifism that truly verge on universal harmony say when we vomit. And that's when we're in sync with the constellations. I won't with the cosmos is what we are when we throw up say turbo and potatoes. I mean after all for us pure and simple the worst thing about war even isn't so much the dying or the bombs falling and devastating bridges and apartment buildings. When war comes the real problem is there's very little to eat. And what little there is is awful. For example you find yourself eating raw potatoes. More potatoes are disgusting to us. I mean if you're going to eat potatoes you should have the most up with those men. But the real point is is that you like potatoes as a side dish. They need to accompany something else. And that's something else that has to be made food not war. Something substantial you could what do we do really it's not so much we turn our back on war even as we're producer at the dinner table stuff in our faces until so to speak we're packed as full as it can until that pancake feeling accompanies us in the moments we consider to be most important in our lives. Christmas New Year's Easter weddings and in those important circumstances we're happiest if we're really on the brink of vomiting. What's wrong? Do you feel bad? No, no, no. I'm as happy as I can be. But you look a little bit of green under the gills. No, no, exactly. I'm all the joy. Better. A young man in his 30s who works as an engineer for an American company that demands absurd services from him. All depending on customers whims. He's got to put up with these crazy situations and maintain a firm unshaken belief in the logic of the company's. And that one thing in the middle of a pretty old date, there have to be 10 of us, otherwise the New Yorkers can't help themselves. But hey guys, he's just finished our workshop, we're going over everything today. They all go on earth and have gotten into you, companies about risk. And God was at risk. A modern American company, one of those corporations that tries to work with what is in the head. And trustworthiness. Trustworthiness in the job, but also to be nothing less than a kind and generous company that loves you and a company that wants you. You're best so. After my 30th good morning, I don't have the answers. This is Maraldi speaking. I want the table for Chua de Hilton. And on that table, I want a bouquet of 51 red roses at 9 o'clock sharp. Oh, and I'm in Bangkok. This is Dr. Canon Dele. I want the Porsche. I want it today. And I want a yellow. That Porsche. I don't want a yellow anymore. My wife doesn't like yellow. She wants it black. Darling, are you sure about this? Yes, black. The Porsche. I don't want a Porsche anymore. I don't want the BMW. That's right. I don't want that license plate ending in an even number. That's important. Even other sections are in place downtown. This is Maraldi. I need the flower lay from Hawaii. A real one. Okay. I lost the bet with a colleague. Delivery in Verizon outside Milan. The day after tomorrow, between 9 and 11 in the morning, because after that, I'm holding my regular seminar on kindergarten. There are some surprise vacations place around the world, especially high risk is terrible. And everyone anxiously awaits the most challenging module of the year, the annual meeting with the president. You know, in this office, and you're expected to perform just one thing you know how to do. One thing anything at all, anything at all. Explain how you do it. What's the best decision here and now. Two men, Sampieri and Aliotta, have been involved in a head on crash between two heavy scooters. The two bikes are practically melded together like a conceptual art piece at the Venice Biennale. Sampieri, the younger of the two, is wearing a shiny blue tracksuit and looks vaguely like a drug dealer. Aliotta, older, is dressed like an insurance salesman. They've both got motorcycle helmets wedged on their heads at first. Hello, I guess I had a crash with my scooter. No, I'm just fine. I'm on my feet. Don't worry. He's taking care of in the flat. After all, I am just right around the corner. Five minutes and I'll be there. I'll be there. Don't, don't, don't worry. Don't worry. Chow. Yeah. Yeah. You're great. You're great. Chow. Chow. Yes. This is 911. Yes. Hello. There's been an accident. I want to report an accident. We could use an ambulance here. Yeah. Two scooters. Yeah. Yeah. That's right. Two, two, two people involved. I'm fine. I'm fine. The other guy, not, not, not so much. I think he might be deceased. I didn't say. Yes. Sampieri's the name. I would add a yo, Sampieri. That's right. Not sure what role this is. Look, I'm on the open country side. All right. Look, yes, I was coming down Capsa Verde and headed down the Beltway. It was a detour. Look, I got lost. And this guy hit me head on. You get me? Yeah. Slam right into me. Yeah. My cell number is a cell number is a 335-616-120. Oh, yeah. Of course, certainly. Yeah. I got you. I got you. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. That's right. It's a second chance. Okay. What should we do now? We'll, we'll wait. We'll wait. We're sure someone's coming. That's right. You'll find us. Yeah. Okay. Yes. Thank you. Yeah. Oh. GG. Yeah. How you doing? Yeah. I'm great. 15 minutes. Yeah. I'll be with you. I'm almost done here. No. No, I don't know exactly where I am. But in the meantime, I called an ambulance because I don't know. But I told you, hold on a second. What's the name of this road? You happen to know? No. You mean to tell me, you don't know the name of the neighborhood, this place, this road, and you have no idea? No. I don't know. You know, the speed-up bureaucracy, bad luck, you know. Follow me? I don't know. Wait, are you a target? Do you understand what I told you? I don't know. GG. No, I was just talking to the guy that crashed into me. You understand? Yeah. Yeah, he hit me head on. Just unbelievable. Listen, just get out of here and I'll call you, okay? Yeah, yeah, yeah. I gotta go now. I don't know what road this is. Everything's okay. But let's keep things under control. A little bit of myself. You know, let's just say it wouldn't take much more of your nonsense to put me on the edge. What are you shouting about, huh? Why don't you pipe down? What's the mess you make? Look, huh? How fast were you going? Hit me head on. You hit me head on, capito? You did it to yourself. Listen to these guys. You call them on the phone. They don't pick up. Let me tell you, these volunteers manage a 911 line. They won't even pick up on a volunteer. The conscience is always fooling you. You understand? Because if they so much lift a finger, they tell you, oh, look at me. I'm just a volunteer. They have a real cancer killing this country. They're old as fuck. These geriatric volunteers, two plague rolled into one giant monster, the volunteer who works for the 911. Not just answering. Huh? You never change. Who? What are you talking about? Hey, yeah, listen, I just called a few minutes ago. Did I talk to you? I thought so from your voice, pal. Yeah, you and I must be the same age, bro. Look, I just wanted to know about the ambulance. I called for an ambulance on account of a head-on collision. Two scooters crashed out here. Where are we with that? Sampieri's the name. That's already told you. I told your colleague that I don't know where we are. Look, I gave him fairly detailed indication. Yeah, my cell phone's the latest model, but why? It's broken. It's broken. Otherwise, I could have found my location. Let's just not act like coolest boogers right now. Tell me where we are with the ambulance. The number is 324-616-120 on your national day. I know, yes. Thanks. What's the upshot? Well, what are we supposed to be doing? Let's not waste any more time. Okay, pal. Look, I know there's a parade in the city center, and that's where the ambulances are in possession. But what? Okay, perfect. Thank you. Thank you. Okay, thanks. Yeah, I mean, you tell me, pal, what the situation is. Thanks. What do you think you're doing? Hey, stop messing with the helmet. Hold on. Calm down. Don't take off your helmet. Okay. What do you think we say? Four, five, six. A strange little family. A mother, her grown son, and the father. But as the play begins, the mother is speaking comfortingly to her son in a bizarre dialect invented by Machiavelli. And even singing him a lullaby. The father returns home distraught over the fact that there's a southwest wind, with all the awful things such winds bring with them. The mother has been describing to her son the proper manners involved in eating a door mouse in a restaurant. Good manners require nothing to be left in the plate, but the door mouse's teeth. Quite surreal. Are you nervous? Are you nervous about tomorrow? It's just normal to be nervous. Genizio, even your father is nervous, very nervous. His nerves are on edge about tomorrow. On edge about the wind. But tomorrow the wind will die down. Everything is going to be fine. Genizio, don't be afraid. Shall I sing you a lullaby the way you like it? Now your mama will sing you a nice lullaby. What's wrong? Are you feeling irascible? Are your nerves on edge? Are you feeling wrathful? Why did you give up smoking, Genet? I know why you did it. You made a vow, didn't you? You made a vow. But making a vow is sacrilegious. Did you know that? Lullaby, you want me to? You're a smother. Good boy. A door mouse is small with a chestnut gray color on its back. Its face has large eyes and round ears. It has a nice soft fur. Looks like a squirrel. You like the story of the door mouse? It's pretty. So pretty. When it emerges from hibernation, the door mouse is still slightly dazed. Poor little thing, bewildered. It needs to be careful because it's easy prey in the dangerous forest. Just to tell you, just to give you an example, all you have to do is shine a flashlight in its face to disorient it completely. And there you go. Hit it on the head with a rock, stun it, and you can catch it easy. Easy. The door mouse is served whole on a dish, cooked in tomato sauce, and placed whole on the serving dish. The smell is very, very strong. And indeed, this is a dish for a strong palate. For a cast iron stomach, when you eat a door mouse, you have to eat every last bite, leaving nothing on the plate but the teeth. Otherwise, you insult the cook. The door mouse cooked the way mother knows how. Nice and crunchy and slightly spicy is a cure all for bronchial disease, emphysema, and rheumatism. It wards off the heart attacks. It brings good luck. People say that hunting door mice in dangers of protected species. Death to the forest rangers, damn them! Death to the forest rangers! Death to the forest rangers! Death to the forest rangers! There's a libato! The West Wind! Be Ovidio. Yes, it's a West Wind. But Ovidio, maybe you're just got it wrong. Maybe it's just a light wind out of the valley. No, it's here. The libato! The damn West Wind! Leave the room, Genizio. Get out of here, because tomorrow is an important day. He's feeling arrestable. His nerves are on edge. Maria, what on earth have I done wrong? Why? Why does a libato have to do with it? Why now? Well, won't that? You'll see. It'll pass, Ovidio. It'll pass, and that nasty wind will move on. I bet you'll never did anyone any good. But maybe it'll just last one night. And tomorrow morning, it'll be gone. But you know, you need to shut your trap. So, this is what's been already decided. Oh, yes, yes, Ovidio. Don't get upset. What a tragedy. I can really feel the tragedy of God, the tragedy of God, tragedy of God. Ovidio, everything's going to be perfect. A wonderful day. Mother of God, mother of God, the hour, the mother of God, the hour. Ovidio, Ovi, darling. Tell me what's for dinner. Come on, I love you too. What's for dinner? Yes, what's for dinner? Again? The whole menu. Tell me everything. Come on. What are you doing? You made me say it. Ovidio, I'm going to sleep. Everything's ready, everything's perfect. I told you. Tell me the whole menu. What's for dinner? No, I just can't. No, that's the farthest range, Arsa. The farthest ranges. That doesn't matter. In translation, one of the most difficult and deceptive and often inadequately solved problems is dialect. A dialect has been called a language without a navy or an army. William Weaver, who translated the name of the rose and many other great works of Italian literature, in thinking about this, when he was writing about a book, the pasti caccia by God, said, how do you translate Faulkner into Italian? Do the Snopes become Sicilian fishermen? Because the way that the Snopes talk is so specific to them and to that place, that county, that to do so is to completely strip it of its specificity. The first line in 1984 is it was a bright spring morning and the clocks were striking 13, airy and settling. In Italy, the clocks at one o'clock in the afternoon always strike 13. That is completely lost. The first line of that book. There was a show called, let's call the whole thing Gershwin, which for copyright reasons has been abolished. In it, a young woman auditioning one of their songs sings, you say potato, I say potato, you say tomato, I say tomato. What's wrong with this song? This is a similar problem to dialect. A great deal of it came through here, but there's something magical about dialect that we can't quite master. So what we've tried to do is set up a sort of Rosetta stone of different versions of one of the lines from this strange dialect that Mattia Torre invented. So we're going to be going with the original invented dialect, the plain vanilla English, the Italianizing version, the Brooklynizing version, and I think truest to what Mattia Torre was doing, the hallucinizing version. Now it's not going to be obvious, we're working this through, but this is our first stab at it, so let's go. When you eat a door mouse, you have to eat every last bite, leaving nothing on your plate but the teeth. Otherwise you insult the cook. The door mouse cooked the way mother knows how, nice and crunchy and slightly spicy, is a cure-all for all bronchial disease, emphysema, and rheumatism. It wards off the heart attacks. It brings good luck. The door mouse has, you make a serve a whole entire in the dish, a cookie in a tomato sauce, and you put a whole entire on a serve in a dish. I smell very, very strong, and I show this dish for strong palato, because I want it, because I own a stomach. And the hallucinizing version, the door mouse is a serve a whole entire, cookie in a tomato sauce, put a whole in a serving dish. Well, this was a great presentation. Thank you. This is really, really great. So let's have a little panel, whoever wants to join from the actors come. So Valeria Graziano, the director, we'll let's take some of the chairs. Do you want the actors? No, we can be on the side. I'll sit on the, are you joining us? You can stand. This is perfect here. Outside on the right, but it's on the left from the audience, so that's good. So again, I think, first of all, another round of applause for the actors and for the director. So this was the American premiere, you're right, it has never been read, so you've witnessed something great. It's a part of theater history now. And thanks to the actors, a great, great job. So maybe we ask first Graziano, who came all the way from Rome, you have overlooked Italian theater over decades. Where does Mattias Tore, where does he fit in? Who is he and who was he? Wow, what a question. So for so long, I'm really happy to be here in presence again. It sounds so wonderful and incredible to me to be in a place like this, where you can ride in the center of Manhattan, listen to the words of the playwrights from around the world. And I'm agree with Valeria before she said that Mattias Tore is one of the best playwrights of our present time in Italy. And I'm agree with that because it's for sure one of the most intelligent and at the same time most popular playwrights. He grew up in Rome, right? Tell us a little bit about his life before he got in. Yeah, yeah, he was born in Rome and I think that this is significant to understand his writing because Rome is a very strange city. It's three million people living there in a total mess I can say about bureaucracy and this functioning of many, many things. And you can see a lot of biases of our country from Rome. And I think that Mattias Tore take this point of view to spread the universal message. But it's so typical from Rome, even the language. And sometimes, of course, by the actor that interpreted the place. But the point of view of this mess is something that goes deep inside the place and can tell something about our present. But the most important is that this is not a cynical message. But it's a way to face the mess and continue going on with the empathy. It is peculiar because in Rome, we say that our dialect, for example, is a way to be cynical. Maybe you can laugh, but sometimes it's a way to be cynical. Pierpaolo Basolini, that was used, it was not from Rome, but he used the Roman dialect in his book. He used to say that the word in the Roman dialect that he preferred was ambedi, that means look at that. Because it's the unique moment that Romans start not to be cynical and they are open to wonder. And this is the point of view to face the mess and continue to get empathy for the relationship between humankind. And Mattea Dore start his work in the theater. I mean, if you look at this page on Wikipedia, you probably would find something like screen right. And he did a lot of wonderful television, for sure, but he started theater and he continued to write for theater. He wrote a lot for theater because I think he finds something in this special language that is theater, this somebody that meets some other people on the stage, look at a body and a language becoming something, telling a story. It was something that is related to this idea of not to be cynical, to face the mess and not to be cynical. I remember when I saw the first play that was at sea. I'm at sea. With a wonderful actor, this Valeria Prea, interpreting this play. And it was in a very, very black box theater in the center of Rome, in Testaccio. And I was surprised because I say this is something new. This is something new because it was so ordinary, I mean the story, at the same time extraordinary. Because we can feel a reading, a deep reading of our present in that words. But at the same time, it was everything, it was so ordinary. So day by day life. And it sounds like something new because in our tradition, theater especially is made for intellectual. I mean it's very, it's not always you know, high level writer, but you know, it becomes with a strong tradition. And television is normally for, is popular and use another kind of register that is, we say it's lower. But what happened in Mattiator, you can find the same voice in the television and in the theater. And this is peculiar. This is really peculiar because we have a lot of people coming from television doing wonderful television, but you know, medium theater or in the other side, in the opposite, you have strong actors or prey, right, that do wonderful theater. When they try to get popular, they fail because they don't find the right voice. I think that, you know, what it's incredible about Mattiator's work is he keeps the same voice in the theater, in the television, because you find a way to be popular and to give a deep point of view of our present. Normally, very often, we see the lives of rich people like succession or the royal family in London, millionaires or pop stars, whatever. Here seem to be, as you said, normal ordinary people. How did he communicate to them, was he interviewing them, was he part of them, but he had like Pazzolini, the famous nightlife when he was done, he would go. How did he do that, that he caught this very special Roman atmosphere? I think that is the point of view he had on the reality. I mean, he is a stronger observer and he finds the right way to, you know, to understand where it's possible to, you know, to break the reality we have in front and to see inside the reality. For example, the most famous TV series that he wrote with two colleagues, Luca Vendruscolo and Giacomo Charratico, that is called Boris, is a TV series that he tells about the TV series. So he can tell the story of how mad is the show business in Italy, not only because, I mean, people that work in television are a little bit mad in every part of the world, but even because all devices of our society become the double or maybe ten sides in there. And we find a way to tell, you know, just telling the story of a group of actors that working on, you know, for a very bad TV series about, you know, feelings, like a soap opera, like a soap opera. What's extraordinary that doing this work, Matteatore invented a language, like not so radical as we saw in the last piece, what to say for five, six, but he invented the language. I mean, there's some expression coming from that TV series that we still use in our common language right now. It's incredible. Incredible. Yeah, Stella, you are a director, you're also an actor, you're deeply involved also in film. You came on also the last moment, we've got some changes. How was that for you? What do you think of the work? So I'm from Rome, and it was very hard to try to deliver the message to American actors of what those words meant, because as a Roman myself, and as he said too, it's hard to take the Roman personality out of the contest and try to deliver it to someone that is not used to live that type of life. So for example, when I was trying with Stephen, I told him the second of June, and he didn't get at the beginning what he meant, and I was like, yeah, because it's a national holiday. I was like, yes, so what? Rome is not like New York, where everything keeps functioning and working. So like the second of June, yes, like if you get hit in the road, you might stay there for a long time. The ambulances are busy somewhere else. And I think that even Anthony had, I mean, we talked a lot about this. It's very hard for the translating part as well. Left along the 456, where there is a dialect that is invented, but yeah, the Romanity is like, I don't know, translating a piece of soul, you know, so it was hard. And it was a reading too, so we couldn't use too much, the bodies and objects, but they did great, and we didn't saw short time. And I'm grateful for the opportunity. It was amazing. Yeah, but something was shining through, since she's talked about the actors. Tell us, how was it for you? Well, I'm first generation, and I'm from, I grew up speaking Southern Italian dialect. So one of the things I wanted to say is that while you can say, oh, this strange dialect, the truth is that whether you're talking about a dialect from body, or a dialect from Baselicata, or from Sicily, or from Rome, wherever that dialect is from, the dialects, because they're coming from a kind of poverty, they're coming from a very similar emotional point of view. I mean, like when I read these, I'm just looking at this and going, okay, it's not Lucano, which is what I speak, but it must be, it could be Sicilian, you know what I mean? So I just feel that, I mean, for me, it's exciting because I live in America, and America is very uninvolved with the rest of the world. So we don't really see, we don't see, you know, one of the most, and I think, Frank, you've been dedicated to this for years, we don't see a lot of foreign theater in America. You can go to Italy, and you can go all over the place, and you can see tons of American theater in other places, but we don't really see that much foreign theater here. So it was very exciting, and also that Matteo Torre is new to me, I don't know him until Valeria asked me to participate, and listening to all of the monologues, which were done so well by all the actors. I just thought it was so contemporary, you know, there was a contemporariness to the messages, you know, and I thought that that was really phenomenal, it makes me want to read a lot more of his work. Yeah, yeah, thank you. This also is, it is Penny Arcade, a legendary performer here in New York, from everybody who knows, and playwright, performer, filmmaker, videomaker, but yeah, maybe before we come to the transmitter, but any one of the actors, how was that for you? I think we are a place, we also listen, you know, to the artist. I thought it was very interesting, I'm new to Matteo Torre as well, but I thought the piece, the particular piece that I did, I was talking to Stella about it, and the language, even though it was new to me, it felt very familiar, you know, it felt like a Woody Allen monologue, and like, you know, it was kind of that, and it was just embodying that, you know, who this, I could tell what type of person this was, just based off the situations and the language of it, and hearing, you know, the different monologues, you get a sense of what it's like to be Roman, you get a sense of what it's like to be Italian. Yeah, so I thought it was very interesting. So for me, I already knew Matteo Torre from Boris, the Italian series, so for me found him here in America, New York was like a big little thing, magical. So the only thing they want to say is that I'm happy to be here, performing at the Seattle Theater here, performing a thing that is an Italian type. So all the mix of the culture, all the mix of magical, the theater of the cinema is marvelous. So I'm at peace. Well, Golo Gluttony, I think has a universal message and growing up, I was talking to Penny about it, the dishes that my family, when they weren't doing too well, I remember them getting property in Long Island in Brooklyn, the government gave, Groom and Air Force based, that property was owned by the government and they didn't care if Italians got a little plot of land and they would grow tomatoes and basil and they would come to Brooklyn and sell it and still remember my Aunt Josie, they had an interview with her in the paper and she said that, yeah, we sell because they were talking about this plot of land and how people from Brooklyn come and she said that in the paper that, yeah, whatever we don't sell, we eat. And it came from this seed of being hungry and I think that moves into a consciousness now that we're also health-minded and dietarily, diets and stuff like that and we work out and stuff. So it really rings true that past of war and how little they had and Basta Badan and Basta Vazou, everything would pass, the pizza macaroni and stuff. So it was really a very, very great universal experience for me at least as the act that can really empathize and relate to it. Don't you think that, you know, New York is a very Italian city. I mean, you know that, right? Right, if you're Italian, it's more Italian, but if you, I mean, New York is a Jewish city and it's an Italian city. Energistically, it's Italian. And I think that in those monologues, like the monologue Keisha did and the monologue Skyler did and the monologue Stephen did, there is a very much a similarity of a vibe to it. You know, I mean, okay, New York is probably more an appletan than it is Roman, you know, but there's still something very, very close to the bone there where I think any of those monologues like that you guys did, I mean, all of you could do those monologues when you're auditioning for something and you would not get out of the park, you know, because it has such a freshness, but it's so, the relatability, you know, from New York is so strong. And there's an Irish town, it's a Caribbean town. But now let's come to Anton Antoni, he's one of the great translators actually, living translators from Italian into America. So, how was it for you and it's still an ongoing, still a draft? Yeah, it's still a draft, it's still ongoing. We are in the middle, it's also work in progress. How was it for you to translate a tourist, someone who in a way is now even more recognized as a unique important figure? And how did you deal with this? Well, translating is a strange and it's like being a professional contortionist. It's an odd pursuit. I love words. And this is gonna seem strange, but I don't really care what they mean. I love them for themselves. And I think Matthew had some of this, okay not, obviously he had a lot of things to say, but he was deeply, if I understand anything from what I read, and I think I do, he loved, loved words. Translation is a, again I'm gonna use the word strange again, but there is an uncanny quality and almost verging on the magical quality of what happens when you translate. I've been doing it a long time. I've been doing it for most of my life. And it's almost incantatory. And when I read Mattia Torre, I could feel it coming clear. It was just he had a, you know, he has some kind of strength that he puts into the words. Some time ago I wrote an essay about translation. I came up with a line that I was really happy with, which is that there is no such thing as an untranslatable word. The famous thing in translation is, is anything untranslatable? No, you might need an entire volume to translate that one word when it's translatable. But there are untranslatable worlds. And this is the very difficult thing about Rome. Rome is a city where every courtyard is a stage, and where every walk down the street is a performance. I mean, it's also true of Naples. It's very true of the south. The north tends to be much more Calvinistic. Yeah, button down. A little button down. Though, you know, you get to know that. But there are words like portone. Take the word portone. I say the word portone. I mean, what street door? It's, you know, the door, but it means so much more. You walk through, there's a garden in there. The kids are playing. All the people are shouting down from the, there's a, there's a portinaio who's got a little house there. And then the amount of life that passes through that door as opposed to a door in some other place. It's almost a Narnia type situation. Or you take G to one of my favorites, which is the same eight couples get together for dinner every third Thursday of every two months. And when the bill comes, one of them takes out as well, it says, this is mine and pays for it. And then the next time they get together, the person who is left acts out the same scene. And in the end, they might as well have said, you have the cucumber sandwich and it'd be the same amount of money, but it's just theater. So all of this was very, very much in the air. And so you can imagine the feeling that I got when having sat at my little typewriter and sent off the text, and I got to see the words get up and become people. So it was a deeply moving thing. It was what was what was complicated? What surprised you? Well, the first thing is you've got to figure out what's weird and what's normal. Well, I mean, in this by Toro in his in his work, yeah, what I'm talking about. And I had some of the same thing with Palo Alto, you know, I translated a book and two series of his and Luca Guavagnino. And it's like, exactly where is, you know, the center of gravity? Because sort of, you know, there's some very strange stuff. But it's normal. That is, so one of the one of the, it's like those plumes all lines on the side of a ship, right? How deep in the water is that ship? And how deep should it be? So you see an actor like Mattia Torre comes along, he says, oh, you're like going proper restaurant etiquette for eating door mouths, leave the teeth. Okay. And, and there's, but there's a fair amount of this, you're trying to gauge what is normal and what is not. Now, I was lucky enough to learn Italian before I turned 21. And I learned it in various places between Lecce and Perugia and Cuneo. So this is the south, the center in the north. And so I feel like I got a good dusting of it. And a lot of translators, you realize when you see what they're, what they're doing in the English, you can, you can understand they don't quite know where they are. And Mattia Torre, he, it was hard to gauge, but then there was also like he left crumbs. It was, he made it clear you could follow his, because this of you is giving cues. And so I was deeply grateful to him. It's interesting how much goes one way and weirdly the other when you translate. I don't know if any of that was useful. It was highly useful. I think it's a great, great reminder. And it's sounds easy. What you say is so complicated. You know, let me, let me just get to Valeria. I'm first. Valeria, it's the fourth playwright. It's the fourth playwright edition. And Tom Stoppard, we just came up another evening, he famously said, when you go through airport security, you say, no, I have nothing to declare. And then they go through and they say, actually, there's something there. So yeah, I forgot, you know, and he said, plays and theater book often is about this, there's something invisible, something inside. What do you think is not fully declared? What's in there that would raise the detector? What is you think is in his work, that in Taurus work and for America, you'll live between two worlds. What would resonate or what does resonate? I have another goal. So I have the goal to bring what is understandable. What is common? I have a goal with my project, my project, my Myestatis project to bring understandable what is important in Italy. And so, of course, you have to be, to be trade and then you have to be trade and you have to be loyal. So it's a strange thing about when I started with the desire to dedicate an entire biennial to Mathias Torre and Julian knows because I pop up out of the blue and say, I want to do that. And I say, and I was thinking, oh, maybe she will answer me. Okay. Thank you very much. But maybe it's not interesting for us now. But at the same time, I was so, so determined. But why? What's in there? Because I knew the first play I read very well was perfect. And Mathias Torre was so deeply inside the life of the woman. And this is so strange because I don't like a man who talks about woman usually. So I have a lot of preconceptions. You know, so the life of a woman must be told by a woman, I guess. But when I read Perfecta, I say, oh, this is very, very loyal to my soul. And I was so curious to see the reading in English because I was so curious that it was the first question I asked to Keisha was, what did you feel about this play? Because it's so universal. And so this is the goal of our project to talk about universal plays, not Italian, not German, or just the plays. This was our goal from the very first day. So, of course, Italian, because I'm Italian. Short cut, before we come to your question. Yeah, I want to say something more about this concept. I think that Mathias Torre finds a way to talk about, you know, present life, but in a very universal way, even when it's so local, it starts to be universal. For example, the obsession for food. It's so Roman, but it's from Napoli or Sicily or from every southern culture, can be Greece, can be Spain or Hispanic. And it's because he was a great observer, that's why. But not only this, he finds a way to make it universal because this language is full of invention, I think. For example, in 456, there's an invention that for me it's incredible. When you start to talk about the grandmother tomato sauce, like the eternal flame, it becomes an eternal tomato sauce because people, you know, the son and the grandson continue to do the same, to cook the same tomato sauce. And it was so, you know, talking about, you know, the family and how the family can be a cage, just in one word, that it's a big laugh, make you laugh. And this is so extraordinary because it's a deep observation of our relationship, it's universal, and even it's an invention in the language. I want to remember that Mathias Torre starts from independent theater, then suddenly everybody understand he was so incredibly and amazing writing, so he started to work for television, for the mainstream. But even when he started to work in the television, he continued to experiment. For example, I remember a very short series that he did in television, it's about two bouncers, you say bouncers, people on claps, you know. Yeah, Boutafuori. They were, you know, just talking about grotesque episodes or talking about philosophy just in front of these people going inside a club and going out of there. It was amazing, it's something like a piece of theater, the absurd, you know. It sounds like Beckett, but in a very Roman way, just in front of this club with two bouncers talking about very crazy and grotesque stuff. And this is so new in our television because our television is so traditional. And it worked because he's invented a language that it's not normal because it's an invention, but universal. So my question is perfectly coming behind you and you were who I wanted to ask. What was Mathias Torre's lineage? Like theatrical lineage was he in the tradition of Dario Fall? Is it Pirandello? Like, you know, what was he carrying? Wow. Yeah, that's a question. I'm not sure about that because I never talked with him about this, but we talk about theater, of course, a couple of times. And I think that he's in, you know, the lineage of, of course, it's more Dario Fall than Pirandello. I mean, there's a lineage. We say that in literature, even in theater, we are like too strong tradition in Italy. One is the drama, the other one is the comedy. The comedy is the one that tried to make an upside down of the reality. You know, it's like Pinocchio, it's like Dario Fall, of course. And Mathias Torre is on this line because he finds a way to talk about our present and even about drama. For example, there's one of the last works he did in television, it's La linea verticale. He talked about cancer and he was already sick at the time. And it's so funny, but you can cry also. And it's always even in the drama, you find a way to make upside down the reality, to see what is behind. And it's the line of this absurdist, this absurdist strain goes through all of his work. Mostly, yeah. Yeah, mostly. So let's open it up a little bit over time already. And we have Panettona, right? It's behind the gray doors. It's not if it's still there. So we open it up. Maybe Tommy, if we can have some light and thank you for your work up there. So an observation, a question. Now you have a chance to say something that in two hours you can't and maybe never again in your life. I'll come over and since we are recording this, it's better to maybe introduce yourself very shortly. Hi, I'm Dario. Nice to meet you all. And thanks for the performance today. I just wanted to ask a question that's a topic that has been touched about how you actually get something that's so typical, translated and acted in another language. And it's between the translation direction and interpretation. Given the fact that when you translate, it's not the best way to, for example, translate a dialect into a local dialect. But do you think that there's some kind of attitudes that are similar in different cultures that can be used as a hook for the actors in particular to not to get the sound of something, but more the attitude, something that's, for example, in this case, something that's close to the Roman attitude, but you can find it here in the US. Well, I think it's for all of us. And I think Robert, I give you Robert. But also, okay, so there's a lighthearted and not terrifically on topic response to this, but it's something I've been thinking about. Yes, Naples, New York. There is a lineage that is not obvious, which is that many thousands of years ago, Greeks sailed west in search of a new land. And they found it. And it was called Naples. And you know how Neapolitan ice cream is written weird? That's because it's Neapolis, the new city. And it's on a latitude line of latitude, you'd be very surprised that it's the exact same as New York City. And then every couple thousand years, they sail further west and find a new city and call it New City. Okay, that wasn't the Italians who named New York City. But it was Neapolitan's who came here. So there's going to be a through line in so many ways. It's so hard. It's an impalpable thing of what exactly certainly when I saw these people, these great, you know, interpreters bringing it into the three dimensions from the two dimensions of language, it was like there was a secret message encoded in there that they understood, which was encoded in the language that I got from my Tia. So there's a Pasaparola, there's a just a direct handoff. It is like moment, you know, it's not not stated. It's tacit, but it's there. But, you know, maybe we should ask actors about it. Robert, what did you something cuts through? What did what is this about? And I was amazed by Skyler and Stephen Keisha, especially, that the the sort of say the translation, it didn't matter because what it had to say cuts through to the heart, which is everything, you know, Brando once said that anyone could have did I could have been a contender because people all could relate to I could have been somebody, you know, I'm saying so that that travels universally with Shakespeare and many, many playwrights, Tennessee Williams, who does a good female, female interpretation, right, in my book. So that's what I think that the translation, it doesn't, yes, we might lose it in the Roman sense of the and you recognize it more, but we recognize what it's about, what it says. I was going to say the connection that I found and what I shared with Stella, you know, people sometimes say to me, oh, you're just so perfect, or even, you know, social media, everyone just looks so perfect. But I think if you just knew the war that was going on inside of me on a daily basis, you know, you would just be like, oh, wow, you know, so I think that, like you said, that for me was the way I connected to this piece that, you know, perfect on the outside, but you just don't know what's really going on, you know, underneath. So yeah. I think how many people say that Woody Allen films are impossible to watch outside New York if you don't grow up here. Yeah, never understood. As a matter of fact, for me, it's been very easy with the perfecta with Kisha, because as Valeria said, it's so universal. So when we were going through the script, they were like, I don't have to add more. Like it's exactly like the metaphor of the plane trees, which I didn't even notice before. I didn't know about that, that they need to be by themselves. So it's as this woman right now needs a break, but no one is giving her a break in the metaphor. And if you go and you drive through through Lungotevere, and you see all these three and you feel it. So of course, she gets the message of wanting to be left alone and don't suffer. But if you are not from Rome, and if you didn't drive through those roads, and if you didn't get stuck in the traffic on Lungotevere, before taking the bridge, a cassette sometimes. So I think you can as in translation, yeah, you give up something to find something else. Because yes, with the with the job that we did, I didn't even think about the plane trees. So it's a fact. Maybe two more questions. You had one. I just want to say one throw in one thing, just from the translator's point of view, got people coming back from Vietnam on a plane, and then you have a tree that's a plane. That was a problem. That's why they were never planes. They were always plane trees. And the plane was an aircraft. Because you got to say, don't be you over there and you over there. Very much in America. No plane translation Comfortable little linguistic My name is my name is Alessandro. I grew up in Rome. I was lucky enough to actually be exposed to my theater is worth early work before I moved to New York. So what I find interesting being here tonight, the first off, it's amazing to now see this kind of boomerang of like words coming back in a different form, but they come from the same source. So thank you for all your work. It was really amazing. Interestingly, though, I find that all this conversation about what is so Roman about it, what is so universal about it, I feel like in my mind, there's something I think interestingly for an American audience, which I don't know how many Americans are here tonight, we're here in the world of a Roman author that almost plays a little cruel joke and not telling us much about Rome. Like the the best that we heard is I was probably the record on one of the translation of the beltway, right? So that's the one moment that we heard something that has to do with the city. I think that where Mathias resumes in and it pinches somebody in a moment. That's where it becomes universal because there's a level of frustration of a sense of like it's everybody against me that we all have experienced wherever we grew up. What I find to be very Roman about it, and I love it, and that's the way that's the reason why I left, is that sense that if you're in Rome and maybe it's Italian is like these are the cars these are the cars that you were dealt. And there's this sense of now being able to escape that. So you focus on what makes you mad, what makes you frustrated, you dream of like picking up that gun and shooting everybody. Of course you never do it and and you just like leave there like steaming like and and you know as if you're like cooking your own sauce of your own guts in this world that you can't survive in but somehow you are still in and you just can't leave. There's something painful and and there's like you feel like you're gaining merit and credit because you're surviving this and you just can't get away from it. It sounds like New York. Okay one more question someone or an observation yeah good. So first of all thank you very much it was really touching to see I mean to see and to hear Matteo Torres' words just across the ocean. He would have been so so happy about these and I'm kind of you know and I totally agree with you and with Graziano speaking about the fact that there is a strange connection and strong connection I would say the same that we can speak about with Gugia Calamaro between theater and literature and I think that's the secret with Matteo Torres. He used to say that it was too literary for theater and too theatrical for literature and I tried so many times to say here okay let's write a novel and it was too lazy to do this and yeah totally. He was really a last minute man delivering for example Perpetta yes he had like six months to write the piece and very last day he just gave the piece to the actress who was like going crazy and when I say to him well he's her actually he's her piece and he said it's my piece so she's gonna wait and it was perfect actually that the piece the piece it was perfect so yes thank you all it was very it was great. Any last words something you felt you couldn't say? I want to just say the last thing there is a little emotional so I was close to give up you know yeah you know I was close to giving up and because I was very tired after the pandemic I was not motivated to continue this project and I want to thank you all of us because you supported me very very much. Thank you. I want to say thank you to Anthony for the translation and to the actors and the actors for the interpretation because I I recognize you know in English that there's this scene and I can see in the audience the same vibes that I saw in the Italian version so I think it's a strong work so thank you. So this is just the start that we have two years to work on it on this place to translate the whole place to read the whole place and we hope around the USA so we will publish it and then publish maybe with a who knows and so I just want to follow up on what Robert said so beautifully about could have been great could have been a contender which okay that's Brooklyn which is the lead singer of the popes who wrote the song just died and it began with Shane McGowan and he said you know it was Christmas Eve it's a fairy tale of New York and in the back and forth between him and the great singer Kirstie McCall and said I could have been someone and she says yes so could anyone. It's nothing special. And that's New York too. That's New York too and it doesn't matter even if you are it does not matter so much so thank you all and I hope you will stay here for our little reception thank you all for coming thanks to a howl around for screaming chomick at the board and everybody to make it happen thank you.