[…] to understand why the Jews were less a part of Italian life than they thought they were. Arnaldo Momigliano, The Italian Jews
Arnaldo Momigliano, The Italian Jews
A New York Stella Levi diventa Cavaliere di Gran Croce della Repubblica Italiana
A consegnarle l’onorificenza l’Ambasciatrice Italiana a Washington Mariangela Zappia
Interview with Valentina Pisanty in HISTORICAL EXPERTISE
Valentina Pisanty: “The more Memory Culture grew and the more institutionalized it became, the more the deniers gained visibility”
Un film del 1948 finora sconosciuto racconta il ghetto di Roma e il destino dei suoi abitanti
Al Center for Italian Modern Art la pellicola di Barzini e Marcellini
New York ricorda le vittime dell’Olocausto: cerimonie al Consolato Italiano e all’ONU, La Voce Di New York
A Park Avenue tradizionale lettura dei nomi dei deportati. L’Assemblea Generale delle Nazioni Unite si riempie per l’evento “Home and Belonging”
Palatucci, il mito sfatato
By Giuseppe Galzerano in Manifesto
Giovanni Palatucci non salvò 800 ebrei e non distrusse 5 mila fascicoli. Il centro Primo Levi di New York fa a pezzi la leggenda del poliziotto fascista a Fiume considerato lo «Schlinder italiano»
‘One Hundred Saturdays’ Review: Afternoons With Stella – The Wall Street Journal
By Heller McAlpin in The Wall Street Journal
A chance meeting with a Holocaust survivor blossomed into weekly conversations—and a journey into a vanished world.
What It Took for Stella Levi to Talk About the Holocaust – The New York Times
By Michael Frank in The New York Times
There is something unique about the way cataclysms are preserved in oral histories. In his 1936 essay “The Storyteller,” Walter Benjamin draws a distinction between the printed novel and the oral tale, where experience is “passed from one mouth to the next.” The direct line of transmission is significant: The story you hear from a living witness embeds itself into the mechanisms of memory, as I’ve learned firsthand, like no other. And yet such a transmission poses certain challenging considerations. Is a human being defined by the worst, most tragic thing that happens in her life? Should it carry more importance than the periods that bracket it? What does it mean to be the person who shares this particular heirloom?
I have been haunted by these questions over the past seven years, after a chance encounter changed my life and, along with it, my understanding of the power and responsibility of memory. Late for a lecture one evening in the winter of 2015, I dropped into a chair next to an older, elegant woman who looked me over carefully before inquiring why I was in such a hurry.
