Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Review of "It Happened in Florence"

Here is the latest review of my book It Happened in Florence, written by Sarah Sievert and published in The Florence Newspaper.

Do you find yourself with dreams still unfulfilled? Do you have the excuses of timing, family, job commitments, or another fear hidden by a back pocket excuse? Don't tell that to Nita Tucker.

Nita Tucker, founder and editor-in-chief of English newspaper The Florentine, offers uplifting advice in her autobiography It Happened in Florence. Against all odds, she tackled her dream to live in Europe, even at 50. She describes the trials, laughs and experiences she faced to prove “It's never to late.” Her honest and open style not only encourages you to turn the page but also to feel as if you have been invited to her home for a cup of coffee and afternoon chit chat.

Tucker’s book mirrors that of many expats or study abroad students. You may find yourself between chuckles or tears murmuring, “That happened to me too.” Though you may not have been the founder and editor-in-chief of The Florentine or trotted around on the Ferragamo country estate, the struggles with family, decisions, work, and cultural barriers echo those of many others, maybe yours.

And for those who have not yet felt the sunshine and clouds of living abroad or are on the verge of following a risky dream, this book serves as an excellent guideline and road trip companion. Tucker will make you laugh, cry, inspire you with ideas but most importantly push you. I recommend you to take a coffee break with Nita and listen to her story of “what happened in Florence.”


Friday, May 13, 2011

Back in Florence!



Living La Dolce Vita in Florence to promote my book. Sunset with Ponte Vecchio in the background!

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

It Happened in Florence

It Happened in Florence follows the day-to-day life in Florence, Italy, from the seemingly mundane, like trips to the gym, to the glamorous and unusual, like a wild boar hunt. It also covers the inspiration and creation of The Florentine, while touching on the deeper themes of family, relationships, and the reality that anyone can "make it happen".
Here is an excerpt, straight from It Happened in Florence:

Riding my bike over the Ponte Vecchio, I stop to look across at the Uffizi Gallery or the church of San Miniato on the hill overlooking Florence, and say to myself,

I live here! This is my life!

I had, at last fulfilled my long held dream to live in Europe. Florence was my life for four incredible years. Pedaling through the streets instantly and intimately connected me with the past and present of this unique city; cycling by the palazzos, churches, museums and galleries, I admired the legacy of its long-ago Renaissance, only to have my head turned by the well-heeled Florentines popping in and out of designer stores and chic café-bars.

The life I discovered in Florence fully embraced the old and the new of the city. With my husband, Tony, and our Italian partners, I set up The Florentine, a newspaper for ex-pats living in Florence, as well as for the many English speaking tourists who visit this beguiling city every year. I was the editor-in-chief and at the center of all the action. I reveled in the opportunity to meet so many new and captivating people; excited that they all seemed to want to meet me! Everything that was enticing in the city’s history and vibrant present was waiting for me to discover and share with the readers. I had a mission, and a bike…and already more than I’d hope for.

It was usually my bicycle that transported me to the unexpected stopping points with which my life in Florence was abundant. Some days I could be seen pedaling to the office to meet my talented, confounding and gorgeous Italian business partners; or to interview politicians, designers from fashion dynasties, members of the Florentine nobility or visiting celebrities. Other times I’d throw on a black dress and saddle up to attend a special event: maybe the opening of a gallery; or a privileged sneak-peak at rarely viewed treasures in the company of distinguished patrons of the arts; or perhaps a fashion show…that I may have been officially invited to or about to crash. And, on other days, I would take a short and leisurely ride to meet my girlfriends at a piazza café or hotel roof-top bar - to talk, laugh and cry over friends, family and fashion and come up with ideas as to how we could make a difference within the Florence we loved and adored.

Every day proved an adventure; the highs were certainly high. But there were lows too, make no mistake. Saying goodbye to my husband when he returned to the US after a year, soon to be followed by my daughter Montana, was acutely painful. The trials of adjusting to this physical separation required us to re-assess our relationships and work out new (and eventually better) ways to connect, relate and share our love for each other. There were moments of real isolation, when still figuring out how I weave my way into the tightly knitted Florentine circles, I’d cry with longing for my own family and nurturing US girlfriends. On top of all this, a lack of money - to fund me and the newspaper - was a constant source of worry, requiring much juggling and negotiation. And while I was in awe of being in Italy, loving my discovery of its history, life and people, I also had to face that there were just some aspects of its culture that left me frustrated, upset and feeling far from home. Yet, those times I stopped my bike on the Ponte Vecchio and took in the wonder of it all, I had no doubt whatsoever that the highs, certainly in number, by far exceeded the lows. It is on a circuitous, and not strictly chronological, journey through both ups and downs that this book will take you.


To get your copy of It Happened in Florence, visit Amazon.com.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

And Johnny Depp,too

Back in the USA for the holidays. It's hard to leave Florence, but fortunately I love to come back to LA. I live five steps from the beach, so my morning routine is a one hour bike along the beach, followed by a swim in the pool. This is instead of a stroll through Sant'Ambrogio market and cappuccino at Cibreo's. In fact, I refrain from coffee in LA.....why ruin a good thing?

Of course the best thing about LA is that I get to be with my husband (the kids are in Santa Fe and Florida....and I get to see them,too on each trip). That whole 'unconditional' loved and cherished thing can't be overrated. So I'm basking in the sun and love.

But the other part of LA....the 'glam' never fails to fascinate me. I love going to Barney's in Beverly Hills and seeing the 'scene'. No where else do you see people so 'done'. Every woman is skinny, with unmoveable, non-detachable boobs with long blond straight hair (of indeterminate age), and a face that is stretched, ironed and implanted.....and no one looks real but everyone looks the same. Of course, I admit that I'm a member of this movement, albeit an amateur, and enjoy observing the 'pro's' as well as appreciate the danger of going where fortunately I don't have enough money to go.

As far as relating this to Italy.....there is one glaring difference (among many others) that never fails to amaze me. All through Barney's, Neiman's, Sak's and down Rodeo Drive, you fine, women trying on and buying $2,000 a pair shoes, or a skirt on sale for $1,000, or a $2500 little jacket, and what they are wearing to shop are sweat pants and tennis shoes. I know they are buying magnificent clothes, but I failed to see one person wearing them!!

In Italy, I'm the only one who goes to my gym in my workout clothes. Everyone else there comes to the gym dressed in normal work/street clothes (which doesn't even include wearing jeans), then changes into gym clothes, works out and then changes back into street clothes. After 4 years in Italy, I still can't do that. I just quickly get back on my bike and go home to change. I used to stop for a cafe on the way home, but now I even feel like a 'freak' doing that. I 'dress' before I go for coffee.

So to see someone walking down Rodeo Drive, not just one person, but everybody, dressed in a manner I can't get away with for at my neighborhood bar (coffee bar) is quite shocking to me.....as well as amusing. And just wait another couple of weeks, I'll be in sweats at Starbucks.

The Johnny Depp reference was not just a tease. I have some wonderful friends here who are in 'the business' and love to invite me to 'screenings' and any other event because they get a 'kick' out of how much I get a 'kick' out of what everyone else here has to pretend to be 'blase' about. In this 'pre-award' season, I'm getting invited to 3 or 4 screenings a week. Usually, these are just small screenings for the press or academy members to get advance reviews,etc. and no one famous is there. But last week, Dreamworks put on a big event at Paramount Studios for the film, Sweeney Todd by Tim Burton and starring Johnny Depp.
I was in heaven......the Paramount lot was sparkling with Christmas lights, and as we walked in I saw Steven Spielberg, Tom Hanks, Mira Sorvino, Martin Short......and standing in a corner with his 'classic' bowler hat was my angel, Johnny Depp.


The movie was starting in moments, so no time to catch up and chat, and besides I was too distracted by catching all the other stars in the seats besides me.
After the film (which I didn't like....I'm not a Tim Burton fan, too gory, and Johnny in white face/Goth is not my favorite look on him), there was the glamourous reception. Johnny was surrounded by 'admirers' which included other stars. I knew that I had to speak to him, but what to say?
"I have to thank you for the gift that you work has been to me"
and he took my hand, and he looked at me, and when he talked to me, there was no one else in the room, or in the city or in the world.
I don't remember what he said, something like 'that's so kind of you to say', because I was lost not in his eyes, but plunged into the purity of his soul. I know this sounds stupid, like the 'love/star-struck' fool that I am, but his inner beauty, grace and kindness overwhelmed me.

God, I love LA!!

Never in my wildest dreams…….

On September 27th, I was handed an envelope addressed to me, it looked like an invitation. I receive lots of invites to openings, symposiums, press conferences, etc and this looked similar to the others. Until I read the first line, which said ‘HRH Prince of Wales…..invites you to Buckingham Palace.’

We had been working on a special edition of The Florentine commemorating the 90th anniversary of the British Institute in Florence, and I’d been told that there would be a reception in London. I just had no idea, that the reception would be in the Queen’s Gallery of Buckingham Palace, or that the host would be none other than Prince Charles.

My first thought, after I read, and re-read the invitation, response card, and envelope (there was no stamp on the envelope, only a small engraved crown, and the words..Royal Mail), was that my mother was not alive to tell her that her daughter was going to Buckingham Palace. I don’t think there is anyone else in my life that would be prouder and get more joy out of the mere invitation than her.

The next thought of course, was, what to wear? I put out the call and got the following advice.
First from via my girlfriend, Patty Detroit who had worked with Julian Fellowes (Oscar winner writer), who is married to Emma Fellowes, lady in waiting to Princess Michael of Kent:

Emma is in Bruges, but I have been to these things, and I know that she has to wear what used to be called a "smart cocktail" dress. Not long. But not informal. The gallery is very beautiful and was rebuilt not all that long ago. It is part of the Palace, and in fact is on the site of the chapel that was bombed in the Blitz ("Now we can look the East End in the face.") She will enjoy herself. If she does get presented to the Prince, she should remember that the grander the lady, the lower the curtsey. Servants bob. Ladies curtsey.

Love, Julian

And my friend William Fford, sent this:

I would guess that it would be cocktail dress, or some would be coming from work so would be wearing something slightly more business. The men would be in lounge suits. I.e. smart informal, not black tie or anything like that (unless of course one is going on to such an event afterwards…).
You can practise your curtsy next time you see me!
William, aka Lorde of Seaforde in the County of Down, Ulster (but also peasant from Ennis, County Clare, Munster), all in ye islande of Irelande


I started the search in my closet, where I found a beautiful Armani evening suit that I purchased 20 years ago. It fit, it was beautiful, and I realized that if I were to go shopping today, I would end up with the same thing. I also had a gorgeous pair of Prada heels, bought 5 years ago, and never worn, and a vintage Balenciaga purse. Fortunately, I didn’t have to buy a thing, unfortunately, I didn’t have to buy a thing!

My friend, Ellyn Toscano, who is director of Villa La Pietra (NYU), the villa had been a gift from Harold Acton, was also invited, so we planned a 3 day trip to London together.

Arrived Monday: Ellyn had hosted some English actors at the villa a few months before. They had done a ‘reading’ of the play that would be opening in London in November. While they were in Florence, we got to know them fairly well, and so they invited us to come to the play while we were in London. The play is called, ‘The Giant’, and it is about the making of the ‘David’, with the cast playing, Michelangelo, Leonardo, Machiavelli, and the boy who modeled as the David for Michelangelo.

Although the play got horrible reviews, and definitely in need of editing, I thoroughly enjoyed seeing my ‘friends’ perform, and the 3 I had met in Florence all are amazing actors. Then ‘Leonardo’, Roger Allam (he was in the movie, The Queen, as her private secretary) and his friend, another actor who came to see the play, took Ellyn and me out to dinner at an ‘in’ place, The Woolsey.

You know of course that I was in heaven. Dining with movie stars, in a cool place. And it actually was even better, because our dinner partners are both very, very intelligent, so we spent two hours in stimulating, very funny, brilliant conversation.

Next morning, we passed the day looking for an evening bag for Ellyn, running around London but found either cheap shlock or frighteningly expensive beauties. Finally at 4, we gave up, and went to get our nails and hair handled for the evening. 25 pounds ($70) to get my hair washed and blown dry, 20 pounds for a manicure!!! But how often do I get invited to Buckingham Palace?

We arrived on time for the reception from 6-8pm. I had brought my camera, but of course I didn’t know how to use the flash to get a picture from the outside. Once inside I asked one of the ‘governors of the British Institute’ if I would be allowed to get a photo with the prince. He told me that this was considered a private engagement and so no press or photos were allowed. In fact, he noted that I was the only journalist there.


About the night:
The occasion was in honor of the 90th anniversary of the British Institute in Florence. Prince Charles and Wanda Ferragamo (wife of the founder of Ferragamo) are the two patrons of the Institute. So the monarchy, which has probably the greatest private art collection in the world, put on display in the Queen’s Gallery, their ‘Italians’.

Seeing the collection was worth it in itself. Not only did it consist solely of masterpieces, but every single painting had been impeccably restored and were in exquisite condition. There were paintings by Titian, Artemisia, Caneletto, and two extraordinary canvases by Caravaggio.

I was surprised at how many people I knew who were there. Several members from different noble families of Florence had been invited, Corsini, Frescobaldi, della Gheradesca, as well as government officials, the president of the region and assistant mayor, all of whom I had interviewed and become friends with over my 3 years with the paper. Of course, I ‘worked’ the room and met as many new people as I could. There were probably 100 people there.

Prince Charles magically appeared in the middle of the gallery, with no apparent ‘entrance’. I went up to him and waited my turn to meet him. He was casually chatting with everyone he met, and I found that I was not nervous at all to talk to him, and that when I finally did, and even afterwards, when I am usually upset that I hadn’t said the right things, I was totally at ease and not at all concerned about what I had said or had forgotten to say. This was his ‘doing’, not mine.

The Conversation:

Nita: I am the editor in chief of The Florentine, the newspaper in Florence and we did the special issue for this 90th anniversary.

PC: Thank you so much for doing that, it is beautifully done.

Nita: Thank you for this great honor to meet you and this exhibit is amazing. The paintings are in such beautiful shape, so beautifully restored.

PC: I know, and did you see the Caravaggio’s over there? One of them was in such awful shape, and so dark that we didn’t even know it was a Caravaggio until a few years ago.
Nita: and how did you discover that it was authentic?

PC: It was a man named Maurizio…?(he turned to his assistant)…

Nita: Oh, Maurizio Seracini. Yes, I know him well, in fact we are about to publish a book about the search for the missing Leonardo in the Palazzo Vecchio, which Maurizio is a key player in developing the technology.

PC: That’s such a fascinating project.

End of The Conversation.


I was blown away that I was talking art authentication with Prince Charles!! What I realized afterwards was that he engaged me in conversation, not the other way around. And that he was that way with everyone. ‘Charming’ isn’t the right word to describe him, more like gracious in a very effortless and intimate way. When I said to Montana how easy it was to be with him, and how incredible he was with people, her reply was, “Mom, he’s been trained to be that way his whole life!!” Well, she’s right, and it worked.

As I was retrieving my coat from the coat check, I noticed in front of me, a very attractive blond woman in the most stunning dress. I looked at her face, and then asked, ‘Are you Trudie?

And yes, it was Sting’s wife!! She was lovely, friendly and fun. I didn’t tell her about my obsession, but we did talk about the paper and that Sting was our first subscriber and I’ve been dying to get an interview with him. She was a doll, and said she was sure he would love to do it after the tour with the Police.

So I got one step closer to my life’s ambition of meeting Sting.

Every person when they left the reception was given a small gift bag which had the catalogue from the exhibit and a copy of our special edition of The Florentine!!!

Princess Giorgina Corsina saw us as we were leaving and invited me and Ellyn to dinner at her friend’s house in Belgravia (a very chi chi part of London). So the night ended in the fairy tale way that it had begun at a lovely table with a Princess, 2 Marchesa’s and a Countess, Ellyn from Brooklyn and the Jewish American princess from Detroit.

Where do you go from there? We had been invited to breakfast by Sir Julian Fellowes and his wife Emma (see above). My dear friend, Patty Detroit (also from Detroit), had kindly introduced us via email, and I was so excited to meet them both.

What a couple!! Julian is ‘everly so dignified’, and Emma is a 6 foot, stunning, dramatic, over-the-top, much younger and more beautiful version of Auntie Mame. Everything was, ‘Darling, you simply must meet my most dear friend..’, ‘I was in the Rolls last night, and off to a private dinner with the Queen tonight’, ‘yes, I have 100’s of gowns and hats designed especially for me.’ But although it may sound like she was full of herself or pretentious, she was absolutely sweet, kind and thoughtful. I was totally entertained and fell ‘simply in love with the darling.’

I had planned to go to the Victoria and Albert Museum after breakfast to see the couture exhibit, and they were off to do the same thing, so we went together. Julian is writing a musical play about Christian Dior and he was going back to see the exhibit for the 3rd time for his research.

Walking through that exhibit with the two of them, who were both forthcoming with history, anecdotes, and Emma pointing out which dress she modeled her Oscar gown after, or what kind of hats she has……’they must be simply huge,,,because I am so tall’, was another experience of a lifetime.

I went back to my hotel, retrieved my rolling suitcase, walked to the tube, took the cheapest way to the airport, and boarded the cheapest flight back to Florence. I should have felt like Cinderella finding a pumpkin in the place of her carriage. Instead I felt overwhelmed with gratitude and thanks.

Most of all, I was thankful for the incredible and generous friendships I have. To Ellyn, for including me every time someone wonderful comes to Florence, which led to meeting the actors. To Patty, for sharing her ‘famous’ connections. Julian and Emma couldn’t have been more gracious and fun, and they only made the time because of their love for Patty.

And the privilege I have as editor in chief of The Florentine, to meet the most interesting people, to be able to constantly learn new things, see the great wonders and treasures of the magical city of Florence, be invited into the lives and homes of the noble, the powerful, the rich, famous, cultured and gifted.

When I was a child in Detroit, I always knew that I could do anything or be whatever I wanted to be. I came from an upper middle class family, so I have no rags to riches story. However, never in my realm of possibilities did I ever think I would be invited by a prince to Buckingham Palace.

May I never get over the wonders that life offers.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Saving Santo Spirito

Rosaria Frescobaldi called me up to ask me to write an article on the project to re-open the Basilica of Santo Spirito. It had been in the hands of two priests, and when one passed away, the other one said, even with a new priest, they were spending more time being security guards and janitors than priests. So 18 months ago, the church was shut down. Now it is only open on Sunday mornings for 2 early masses.
Rosaria, her husband Ferdinando, Agnese Massei and a few other 'neighbors' on the piazza decided they had to do something to take care of their church. They did a major study of what was needed, as far as security guards, maintainance, cleaning and caring of the church, and took it upon themselves to find the appropriate employees (they interviewed many!!) and to raise the necessary funds. The figure is 45,000 euro/year.
I went to visit Rosaria at the Frescobaldi home in via Santo Spirito. She took me down the hallway which leads to the family's private viewing 'box' that looks directly into the church. It was built 600 or 700 years ago (I have it in my notes) by the Frescobaldi family. She told me that up until the church closed, she would attend mass in her little chapel, while still in her nightgown. Yes, she still 'hears' it on Sunday mornings early, but she misses the daily life and sounds from the Church.

I love this Church. I love the simplicity of the facade and the harmony of Brunelleschi's interior. And although there is great artword inside, including a wooden crucifiction which is considered by some to have been done by Michelangelo, it always feels like it's a church of the people. The piazza of Santo Spirito was up until very recently (and still can be considered) a populare zone (working class). It was and still is where you find artisan workshops for wood, silver, gold and other metal crafts, binding, shoemakers, etc. In fact, although Rosara didn't mention this (but I learned it elsewhere), the reason the Frescobaldi, a noble family, built the chapel, was so that they wouldn't have to mingle with the 'common folk.'

But this same family, is raising money through 'amici di Santo Spirito' rather than by charging admission like a museum, because they want to keep the church open to the community to come and pray whenever they want.