A TUSCAN FESTIVAL

By DEREK PATMORE

if OST travellers to Italy have heard of the Palio which is held

at Siena every mid-August, but few seem to know of the Bruscello which is held each year at Montcpulciano at the same time. I was told of this little-known Tuscan festival by friends in Rome. Hearing that I was about to make a tour of Tuscany both Elena Craveri, Benedetto Croce's daughter, and Sylvia Sprigge said: "You must go to Montepulciano for the. Bruscello. It's been held on August 15th for five hundred years, and it's a lovely mediaeval spectacle with songs and music. Do go, as so few foreigners have seen it." So I decided to go. I persuaded several friends in Florence to accompany me, and, hiring a car, we drove off to Monte- pulciano on August 15th—the date of the festival.

Montepulciano is not on the main road. It stands on the crest of a hill overlooking both Tuscany and Umbria. It is full of beautiful old buildings, and from the terraces of its palaces you can see Lake Trasamene in the distance. Living a secluded but active life of its own, it is a fine example of the small Renaissance Italian city. It was evening as we drove up the long curving road which led into the town. The surrounding countryside was green with vineyards, and the evening sky was flushed with pale pink and gold. The atmo- sphere was very peaceful and remote, but I noticed crowds of peasants walking up the hill to attend the Bruscello. Although most of them were dressed in black they looked gay and festive, and I felt that I was about to attend an important occasion.

Arriving at Montepulciano, we were directed to the palazzo of Conte Lull Bracci, for whom I had a letter, and who was the organiser and producer of the Bruscello. Readers of Iris Origo's War in Val D'Orcia will remember that Bracci was Mayor of Montepulciano during the war, and that he and his wife played a leading role in the anti-Fascist movement as well as helping the Italian Partisans. We found the Braccis a charming and hospitable couple. They had booked us rooms for the night, reserved seats for the Bruscello, arranged that we should dine with the Marchese Ricci who owned the historic Ricci palazzo nearby, and informed us that the spectacle began at nine o'clobk in the evening. When I asked Conte Bracci to explain the Bruscello to me he said : " No one knows the origin of the Bruscello. It may be a survival of some old pagan custom, but it has been performed by the peasants for over five hundred years— always at this time of year. The Bruscello is a kind of pageant with music, singing and dancing, and although there are several plays in the repertoire they are all based on local legends. This year we are performing the legend of Saint Margherita of Cortona, who was born and lived part of her life here in Montepulciano. Most of the actors and actresses in it are local peasants. We have a cast of one hundred and twenty, and began rehearsals in April. I find that the peasants love playing, and it keeps them from thinking about politics! "

At nine o'clock we were conducted to our seats in the main piazza of the town where the Bruscello was being held. It was now dark, but the great square was floodlit, and this lighting gave the façades of the palaces and public buildings in it a dreamlike white- stone beauty. The wide steps leading up to the cathedral formed the stage, and the bare stone front of the building made an effective background. The piazza itself was packed with thousands of peasants and their friends. As we took our seats the stage was still plunged in darkness, but a large local orchestra, conducted by the cathedral choir master, was beginning to tune up.

St. Margherita of Cortona is very popular throughout this part of Tuscany ; everyone knows her story, and there are a number of churches dedicated to her memory. She seems to have been a very human saint, for as Contessa Bracci, who was sitting next to me, whispered: " She was a very great sinner! " Looking at my pro- gramme I saw that the date of the story was 1257. Soon the flood- lights were turned off, and the performance began. First, the orchestra played an overture of the local folk songs which are used for the Bruscello. Then, the narrator appeared. He wore a tall, conical cap, and held a young tree in his right hand. This tree is always used in any Bruscello and probably has some pagan signifi- cance. He was accompanied by a little girl who stood quietly by him looking like a page from an Italian primitive painting. Singing a monotonous tune, the narrator delivered the prologue which Sylvia Sprigge has kindly translated for me:

" Turning the leaves of history's great pages

Deeds wonderful and rare are brought to you Of heroes meet for honour and for glory, Of folk whose fate was cruel bitter rue.

My story carries us far back to times Of most perfidious and factious strife.

It is a tale set on Pulciano's Hill About the loves, wars, passions of this life. Here: the poem of Cortona's Guelfs Who drove the Ghibellines the exiles' way.

Here's the tale of Valiano's Count, His great adventure and those of his day. Here is told bow Arsen caused the sin, The only sin of her who was St. Margaret.

Here is the poem of her who ever loved And suffered unto death with sad regret."

Then the stage was flooded with light, and the first scene showed

the struggle between the Guelfs and Ghibellines. The stage was crowded with figures in costumes of the period, and the fight was directed with great gusto by the producer, Count Bracci. Flames and smoke seemed to burst forth from the cathedral itself, and now the audience was all expectancy. A palace scene followed, showing the powerful Ghibelline family, the Valianos with their courtiers. The daughter of the Valianos, Jolanda, is in love with the Guelf, Arsenio del Monte, the son of one of Montepulciano's nobles, who does not respond to her advances. The next scene depicts the simple background of Margherita. She is a peasant's daughter, and one day whilst drawing water from a fountain she meets Arsenio del Monte. They fall in love at first sight, and to the horror of her family Margherita agrees to go and live with Arsenio.

Set to folk music, these love scenes were charmingly played, and the local audience was roused to great enthusiasm when Arsenio rode on horseback to the steps of the cathedral to carry his love off to his palace. The drama was now in full swing, and its story reminded me a little of Romeo and yuliet. An interval followed this climax in the play. The audience sauntered about the piazza or drank wine from an improvised buffet under one of the arcades. The red wine served was very good, and a happy festive air hung over the whole square. Looking round, I wondered how many provincial English cities could provide so happy and contented a scene.

The next act showed us Margherita, now beautifully dressed, enjoying the pleasures of her sin. Four peasant boys and four peasant girls, costumed in black and gold, executed an old formal dance with a charmingly awkward grace, and the lovers seemed blissfully happy. But the Ghibelline family outraged by Arsenio's behaviour, are determined on revenge. The following scene showed Arsenio out hunting with his favourite dog. He is attacked by the Valiano faction and stabbed to death. His servant runs to tell Margherita the news. At first, Margherita and her ladies cannot find Arsenio's body. But at last his dog discovers it hidden behind some bushes. (This incident explains why all the statues and pictorial representations of St. Margherita show her with a dog.) Disaster now overtakes Margherita. The Del Monte family refuse to accept her and her child and she is driven away from Montepul-, ciano. As the actual Del Monte palazzo stands next to the cathedral,: this scene was played in front of the palazzo with the aged Del Monte; father appearing at one of the windows, and this gave the per-! formance an added poignancy.

Margherita, who was played by a beautiful Madonna-like girl with a singularly pure singing voice, now becomes a penitent. She is stoned by the local children, and wanders homeless about the countryside. At last she finds sanctuary at Cortona, where she becomes a nun. Here she grows in saintliness, and eventually persuades the rival Guelf and Ghibelline factions to go to the Crusades. After a lapse of years the Crusaders return victorious, and Margherita is reconciled with all her former enemies. She even finds her son again—he is now a monk—and mother and child are reunited at Cortona. The play ends with Margherita's death and her apotheosis as a saint. This last scene was particularly effective with the entire cast grouped on the steps of the cathedral wound the dead body of Margherita laid on a bier. Small boys robed as angels and holding floral crowns stood around her body, and the whole tableau recalled an old Italian picture.

The Bruscello was over. It was one o'clock, and the performance had taken four hours. But I had not been bored. On the contrary, I found this local folk play with music intensely moving. It was moving because its peasant players were obviously sincere and because all Italians have a natural sense of pose and gesture. I and my friends congratulated Conte Bracci on his fine production, and as the lights went out in the piazza and its noble buildings were plunged into shadows we drove away.