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English to Italian - Rates: 0.10 - 0.15 USD per word / 20 - 30 USD per hour Italian to English - Rates: 0.12 - 0.15 USD per word / 25 - 35 USD per hour
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Sample translations submitted: 3
Italian to English: Tropics and Meridians (excerpt - published on BMM magazine)
Source text - Italian ///
Ci sono strade che non portano da nessuna parte. Strade che vivono di vita propria. Strade che vorrebbero forse essere nate Piazze. New York é una cittá piena di strade di tutti i tipi. I profondi solchi scavati nel cemento armato delle avenues di Midtown, percorsi da folle ora ansiose di arrivare in ufficio ora di abbandonarlo a tutta velocitá. Quella viuzza nel Greenwich Village dove in un caldissimo pomeriggio d’estate sorpresi due ragazzi a fare sesso. Arthur Avenue, nel Bronx, dove un italiano su tre é albanese e i negozi di alimentari hanno lo stesso odore del negozietto in cui i miei genitori mi mandavano a far compere da bambino. Strada di casa mia, col sole che si riflette fastidioso sulle grandi vetrate della Brooklyn Academy of Music. La 125ma, ad Harlem, percorsa da una carrozza trainata da cavalli bianchi per il funerale di James Brown... Ogni strada ha il suo momento, i warholiani 15 minuti (o erano secondi? E comunque sono piuttosto mesi, in questo caso) di celebritá ...
Translation - English ///
There are streets that lead nowhere. Streets so alive you would think they would have loved to be christened as squares, instead. New York is full of all kinds of streets. The deep, groovy avenues of Midtown, walked by crowds worried either about getting to the office on time or leaving it as fast as possible. That cosy street in the Greenwich Village where, on a hot summer afternoon, I once surprised two guys having sex. The Bronx’s Arthur Avenue, where one out of three Italians is actually Albanian and the grocery shops smell like the tiny one where my parents used to send me to buy food, when I was a child. The street where I live, with the pesky sun rays reflecting over the grand windows of the Brooklyn Academy of Music. 125th Street in Harlem, James Brown’s white funerary carriage and horses slowly passing through... Each street has its moment, its Warholian 15 minutes (or where they seconds? Anyhow, they usually are months, in this case) of celebrity ...
Italian to English: Bill Dolson: Above and Beyond (excerpt - published on BMM magazine)
Source text - Italian ///
Immaginate di stare camminando per strada, una sera d’estate, nel giorno dell’anniversario dell’indipendenza (...o della rivoluzione, secessione, unificazione...) della nazione in cui vi trovate. La cittá é calma, quasi tutti sono incollati al televisore o a naso all’aria nei maggiori parchi cittadini in attesa del rituale spettacolo dei fuochi d’artificio. Un remoto mormorio interrompe tanto il silenzio carico di attesa degli spettatori quanto la quiete della vostra indifferente passeggiata. Alzate lo sguardo al cielo istintivamente, il mormorio cresce inesorabilmente fino a divenire rombo assordante, le vostre orecchie riescono a captarne la direzione e la presenza quasi fisica nell’oscuritá. D’improvviso, una dozzina di lame argentate tagliano il buio, a migliaia di metri d’altezza: una formazione di meteore é entrata nell’atmosfera terrestre. Vi inchiodate al marciapiede. Nel giro di pochi secondi tutto tace, la luminositá accecante e il rombo delle meteore svaniscono in una evanescente scia. Una goccia di sudore vi scende per la schiena, restate fermi per qualche altro attimo poi afferrate il cellulare nella tasca e chiamate il primo numero: “Hai Visto anche Tu???” ...
Translation - English ///
Imagine you are walking in a street, on a summer’s evening, the day of the anniversary of the independence (or secession, unification, revolution...) of the nation you’re currently in. The city is calm; everyone is watching TV or staring at the sky in a city park, waiting for the ritual fireworks display to start. Finally, a distant hum breaks the expectation-heavy silence, as well as the quiet of your careless walk. Instinctively, you raise your eyes to the sky. The hum relentlessly grows to become a deafening roar while your ears pick up the sound, following its direction and feeling its presence in the darkness. All of a sudden, high in the sky, a dozen silver blades rip through the night: a formation of meteors has just entered the atmosphere. You are nailed to the pavement, but it only lasts a few seconds. The meteors and their sparkling slipstream disappear, a drop of cold sweat runs down your back. You remain still for a few seconds, then reach for the mobile phone in your pocket. You dial the first number: “Did You See That?” ...
English to Italian: Shana Moulton: Repetitive Stress Injuries (excerpt - Exh. cat. published by Pianissimo Gallery, Milan)
Source text - English ///
One of the most immediate consequences of this overlapping can be verified in the superficiality of a renewed sense of trust in medical science and in the extension of the same expectations we would normally reserve to cosmetics and “miracle creams” to proper pharmacological products. The nonchalance we show in regards to invasive cosmetic surgery treatments that only twenty years ago wouldn’t have been used if not in case of extreme need is further proof of an escalading process along whose lines “official” medicine (and Big Pharma) has as much to win as it has to loose. Unsupported by proven knowledge, this trust is in fact unavoidably extended to techniques and products of little or no use. Autohypnosis, new age knickknacks and fortune cookies are therefore considered equal to lab procedures, orthopedic devices and prescription drugs.
Cynthia, Shana’s goofy alter ego, is a perennially sad and frustrated young woman, a hypochondriac in continuous search for this or that new cure to her infinite aches. Deliberately switching between pills and yoga, chiromancy and aerobics, cosmetic and orthopedic devices, she is a true believer. The therapy rite and the connected lengthy research effort are ultimately more important to her than the possibility of a real cure. Punctually, Cynthia’s improbable efforts are revealed as the prologue to mind trips, hallucinations, and unexpected epiphanies of light, sound and color. Often near to old-school psychedelia, her visions revel in a trademark humor that is always ambiguously balanced between slapstick and grotesque.
Translation - Italian ///
Una delle conseguenze piú immediate di questa sovrapposizione é da riscontrarsi nella rinnovata fiducia, spesso vera e propria leggerezza, con cui ci si affida alla medicina e nell’estensione delle vaghe aspettative solitamente riposte in prodotti cosmetici e “rimedi miracolosi” alle cure farmacologiche vere e proprie. La notevole confidenza con cui ci si avvicina a tecniche di chirurgia estetica invasiva che fino a vent’anni fa venivano considerate solo in caso di estrema necessitá é un’altra prova di questo gioco al rialzo in cui la medicina ufficiale (e l’industria farmaceutica) hanno molto da guadagnare, ma anche molto da perdere. Non essendo supportata da alcuna conoscenza reale, questa fiducia viene infatti inevitabilmente estesa anche tecniche e prodotti di dubbia o nulla utilitá, finendo col porre sullo stesso livello tecniche autoipnotiche e procedure di laboratorio, chincaglierie new age e strumenti ortopedici, fortune cookies e cartelle cliniche.
Cynthia, lo stalunato alter-ego di Shana, é una giovane donna perennemente insoddisfatta e triste, preda di un’ inguaribile ipocondria che la porta a sperimentare ogni sorta di cure e rimedi per i suoi mille acciacchi. Alternando con indifferente nonchalance, pillole e yoga, chiromanzia e aerobica, cosmetici ed apparecchi ortopedici, Shana/Cynthia si presenta come un perfetto esempio di believer, per la quale il rito della cura e la ricerca di infinite ed improbabili soluzioni sono piú importanti della speranza di poter guarire. Immancabilmente, gli sconclusionati tentativi di Cynthia si rivelano prologo al racconto di viaggi interiori, allucinazioni, inattese epifanie di luci, colori, suoni e visioni al confine fra la psichedelia piú pura ed una comicitá sempre ambiguamente in bilico fra il grottesco e lo scanzonato.
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Experience
Years of experience: 5. Registered at ProZ.com: Feb 2009.
A former high-school sciences major, I earned my 5-year Laurea Degree (a MA equivalent) in Art Administration from the University of Bologna. I moved to New York in 2003 and spent my first two years in the city working as a graphic designer, translating, editing and writing texts on behalf of various Italian and American magazines and developing my own critical and curatorial voice.
The year 2007 was very important for my professional development. During that year, I was the recipient of the PEC (Project for Emerging Curators) award of the ISE Foundation and I curated a series of exhibitions and screenings hosted by prestigious institutions such as the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, the Elizabeth Foundation and Japan Society. 2007 was also the year in which I received a Connors Fellowship from CCNY, for an Art History/ Museum Studies MA graduate degree that I am expected to achieve in Spring 2009.
I am currently employed as a freelance editor, translator and contributor for the Italian bi-lingual (ITA- ENG) fashion magazine BMM as well as other international publications for which I work on a project-basis. I also work as a Gallery Educator and Lecturer at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum and at the PS1 Art Center, New York.
My articles, essays, interviews and stories have been published on the pages of Flash Art, Arte & Critica, AroundPhotography, D and NYArts, and I still actively contribute to the art magazine Contemporary and the fashion quarterly BMM.
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