La Macina di San Cresci
- Cryptid Parke
- May 10
- 10 min read
Updated: May 26
Wren Bonham and Cryptid Parke
We meet Mimma Verduci and Duccio Trassinelli in their garden, where we have spent many productive and happy hours over the past five weeks of our time studying and writing at La Macina di San Cresci. The garden is emblematic of the care the couple puts into everything. The lawn, where their sweet dog Anea romps, bursts with greenery and is sweetly shaded by trees the two have planted over the last 30 years. Fig, walnut, apricot, wild chestnut, apple, pear, cherry, vine, orange, almond and hazelnut trees ripple and sigh in the soft breeze. When Mimma and Duccio first arrived here, this Eden could hardly have been called a garden. There was nothing but weeds and two neglected palm trees.
Over time, this welcoming space has become imbued as well with the presence of the many Italian and international artists who have been strengthened and inspired by the precious days they have spent working here at the artists’ residency program that the couple began in 2008. Terracotta sculptures, many modern and unpredictable, some whimsical and hinting of folk tales, have been gifted to the garden or made by Duccio, who is an industrial designer. His artistry includes the garden lighting, an inspiring redesign of traditional terracotta vessels into a new use, that of illuminating this place where artists and friends spend hours sharing stories in the evenings. Duccio’s intent when working in this medium is to create “lamps that not only illuminate, but play with surfaces and space.” Some of his lighting designs are in permanent collections at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, at the Centre Pompidou in Paris, and the Vitra Design Museum in Germany.
We pull out chairs at the expansive table kept cool by leafy vines overhead. It’s an easy-going gathering of Mimma, Duccio, and Elizabeth, a floral designer from Canada who volunteers her time to assist at La Macina. Elizabeth speaks fluent Italian and has helped us in numerous ways during our stay.
We take a moment to admire the view. The Chianti vineyards and orchards, leafed out into a silver green, spread upward and beyond to the ancient walled town of Montefioralle, famous for being the childhood home of Amerigo Vespucci, the mapmaker and explorer for which the continent we are from is named. Before we get down to the business of our interview, we also admire Duccio’s suspenders. They are bright yellow and patterned like measuring tape.
We have questions that have built up during our weeks here as we observed and took part in the artistic life Mimma and Duccio have created through their hard work and care. We are eager to get started.
Your love for each other radiates outward and creates such a wonderful community for artists from around the world and members of the local community . We are curious and must ask: How did you two get together? What drew you to each other?
Mimma explains with a smile they met in Florence, where Duccio owned a design and contract agency. One day Mimma, who was then studying architecture at the University of Florence and collaborating with an architectural firm, walked in to discuss a project. Duccio says he was struck by her beauty. After they chatted, he asked her to lunch, and she said yes. It was from the first moment a whirlwind romance. Mimma describes one of their first dates. They had to eat outside in the middle of winter to keep watch over a motorbike Duccio had borrowed from a friend. They had such a good time shivering together they did not notice the cold. At the end of the night Mimma went home to her brother and declared, “I met a man. I’m going to marry him.”
Mimma went home...and declared “I met a man. I’m going to marry him.”
After Mimma completed her university studies, the adventure for the pair truly began. Mimma called her surprised mother to tell her she wouldn't be going home to Calabria, where her parents were then living, for summer holiday. (Mimma grew up in Lecce, Puglia and Duccio in Florence.) She and Duccio had decided to drive to Greece. This was before cell phones, of course. Mimma usually called her mama every day, but for a full month there was no word.
After Mimma and Duccio explored Greece, they were driving back to Italy when she saw a large road sign with an arrow indicating “COSTANTINOPOLI.” She asked Duccio, ‘Why don’t we go to Istanbul?” She says to us now with a smile, “He had already been there many times, but he was happy to oblige me and return to what we believe is the most beautiful city in the world.”
Mimma did finally send her worried mother a telegram from Istanbul. A telegram her mother still has. We are the same age now that Mimma was then, and we could only imagine how worried our mothers would be if we did not send word for a month! We can also imagine the lecture Mimma received when she finally returned to Italy and called her mama.
After their first journey together, the pattern for the life Mimma and Duccio would share had been set: They would follow their curiosity and joy as a couple and see where it would lead them. They would in the years ahead explore by car and by motorcycle much of Italy, Europe, North Africa, and the United States.
“All our trips have strengthened our bond,” Mimma explains. She thinks for a moment and then explains further: “While traveling we have shared unique and unforgettable experiences, some difficult. Each adventure became an opportunity to grow together, an occasion to learn, listen and understand each other.”
Being so far from home ourselves, we imagine the two of them negotiating all the unanticipated surprises as they drove through countries very new to them, including coping with cars that break down, language barriers, and confusing customs. Some couples might not do so well negotiating those challenges, but we believe Mimma when she goes on to tell us that “Each mishap and new discovery brought out the best in both of us. We grew stronger with every journey we took.” And that strength,” she tells us, “ has had an impact on our daily lives and the projects that we have developed over the years–especially the difficulties that, together, we have had to face.”
Mimma is quite direct when we ask her why she decided to marry Duccio and stay with him for 40 years. “He’s not normal,” she says, with her signature shrug and bright smile. “He’s extraordinary.” It is obvious Duccio feels the same way about her.
We think they are both extraordinary.
When you first saw the church and house [the Pieve San Cresci and the attached casa], it was in a very poor condition. The ceiling had caved in on the church, and the house was not livable. What were your reasons for wanting to restore it?
They had been looking for a house to live in outside of Florence, and the Diocese of Fiesole, which oversaw churches in the Chianti area, recommended to them the closed church of San Cresci and its adjoining house. The entire property was in a bad state, however. The roof of the church had, for example, collapsed in 1966, and there had been no attempt since to repair it. Mimma says, “When we came to see the church and house for the first time, the place had a gloomy appearance, worn out, and neglected by decades of abandonment, but we immediately sensed that the complex had a hidden, great charm.”
As soon as they opened the upstairs window of the house to the view of Montefioralle and the fields below, they knew they had to restore it, no “want” about it. While most people would be daunted at the neglect, they saw the potential in the rubble.
As soon as they opened the upstairs window of the house to the view of Montefioralle and the fields below, they knew they had to restore it, no “want” about it.
They went to the local bishop to learn more about the place. Was there a way they could help? Many churches and sites such as this one had slipped into degradation as the rural population in Italy moved to the cities. The church could not afford to maintain churches no one attended. The bishop was glad for Duccio and Mimma’s interest, and so began the conversation that opened the 30-year path to their restoring of this ancient place, all of which they have paid for mostly all on their own and done with excruciating attention so as to stay true to the original designs of this historically significant location, the first documented Romanesque church in the Greve in Chianti area.
Despite all of the challenges they have experienced in those years as they faithfully restored the 1100-year-old church and priest's house–and there have been too many obstacles, some quite complicated and terribly expensive–the couple say they would not have changed the joy they have shared here. “It’s a paradise,” Mimma says.
When did you begin the international artists residency program? What motivated you?
It wasn’t until they were finished restoring the casa’s old cellars that they started wondering what to do with the space. They could have offered wine tasting or cooking lessons, both common options in the enticing Chianti wine region of Tuscany, but the couple comes from art, and they wanted to stay loyal to the experience they were passionate about. It helps that the cellars, which hold the house’s original and enormous stone olive oil mill, are fantastic spaces in which to create. And so the La Macina di San Cresci (The Mill at the San Cresci Church) International Artist Residency Program was born. Since 2008, painters, sculptors, writers, musicians, videographers, and a host of other artists have come to spend from a week to several months at the house, sometimes working in collaboration and always sharing with the local community their creations in the lecture series that Mimma and Duccio also coordinate.
Do you ever find it difficult to live the slow life surrounded by people from other countries who are used to more fast-paced living?
Simple answer? No. Duccio explains that the artists are under obligation to follow their time, not the other way around. Mimma agrees, mentioning that it's important for the artists to learn to understand that a slower life is one with more quality. She mentions a recent occurrence, one we were actually there to witness, of an artist needing access to her car because her family was visiting, but for some reason it wouldn’t start. The artist was really upset about it, but there was nothing to do but let it go. The stall happened Saturday evening, and it wouldn’t be until Monday that they could get someone up the hill to check it out. “You can’t rush it, you just have to wait, and let the solution come,” Mimma says.
The car was fixed by the time the artist’s family arrived. The problem wasn’t solved by the artist’s “now, now, now” mentality, but by taking a step back and letting things be. On a closer look, it turned out to be a nonissue. After some basic tinkering, everything was sorted. This thoughtful and patient approach imbues the atmosphere at La Macina with an attitude that spreads among artists who are awarded the time to and space to work here. It’s certainly helped us, both writers, to expand the stories we are writing in new and surprising directions.
After almost 25 years of running the residency program, what inspires the two of you to maintain it?
Mimma says, “The aspect of the future. We don’t dwell on the past. There’s always something new.” This sentiment is clear in every aspect of life at La Macina, from the family-style aperitivo evenings the couple offers in the gardens, to the time and energy the couple have put into restoring the house and church, to the welcoming smiles with which they greet each guest. They love being able to meet new people and see how each person interacts with the space in their own way, and truly, what is more beautiful than that?
The endeavor you created here has expanded to include the Slow Road, a five mile driving, biking, and walking route that passes in front of La Macina and circles around to include the walled city of Montefioralle in the distance and the popular town of Greve-in-Chianti in the valley below. The route, which you named the Slow Road, has been enhanced by commissioned art installations of local artists and university art students from Florence. that you invited and helped install. It’s a striking contribution to the local community and to tourists who must indeed slow down to take in the relationship between art and landscape. In your opinion, what are the core conceptual values of slow living?
We are especially interested to hear what Mimma and Duccio have to say on this matter. As outsiders, we know firsthand what it is to learn from these generous hosts who welcomed us with open arms. The presence of stopping to sit, touch, or consider the art and locations along the Slow Road is very similar to how we feel in the garden at La Macina as we learn to slow down and pay attention to the surprises of this ancient but very alive place.
Mimma shares a specific example. “If I am at the Co-op (the main grocery store in Greve) and my ticket is called at the bread counter while a friend is talking to me, I will let my turn pass and wait to finish the conversation.” When we asked her why this was so important, she answered, “What is more important? The cheese and bread or the conversation with someone you care about?” It is a sentiment that is often lost on the American unconscious, and important to be reminded of. At the very core of ‘slow living’ is the act of taking the time to connect with the people around you and learning to prioritize community over material things.
“What is more important? The cheese and bread or the conversation with someone you care about?”
The two of you seem to be a focal point for this huge community of artists and craftsmen. This may be a silly question, but how did that happen? Did you guys seek it out or did it happen more naturally?
In short, the community simultaneously forged itself and was fostered by the pair, who are at the center of it all. According to Duccio, the thing that brings the community together is a genuine curiosity in each other's lives and well-being along with a predisposition to being open to other people of all walks of life. As outsiders welcomed into this beautiful community, we couldn’t agree more.
Comments