Attaccato and More
So I returned, twenty days after the grafting of pieces of young Leccino bark into the olden trunks of Ogliarola Salentina took place; once again driving the roughly one and a half hour and, like always, attentively maneuvering the bumpy road leading up to the front of Masseria Brancati, it was with great excitement that I parked the car in the shadow under one of these century old plants. Cosimo had already started removing the covering paper, nails, wire and bark on a few olive trees upon my arrival, and, funny enough, he was just about to start with the tree that I during my previous visit had photographed a series of as it became grafted. We talked for a bit as he forcefully teared off the paper and dragged out the nails, but rather gently cut open the covering bark. Well, the budded bark of Leccino had attached — attaccato — alright, as had it on all the previously uncovered trees and all the following, too, which makes for a good start. However, noted Cosimo cautiously, this does not mean that all of them will grow into branches. That, if branches of Leccino will grow on these old trunks of Ogliarola that is, remains to be experienced, and yet another week or two, maybe even three or more, ought to pass before one may evaluate the success of the grafting (i.e. if any sprouting will occur). For the purpose of clarification, there are not just any pieces of bark that have been cut out and inserted, but the pieces have been carefully selected based on their initial sprouting, on their number and quality of buds, thus, on their ability to form branches. I have learnt that this type of grafting commonly is referred to as ‘innesto a gemma’ and the following section covers another research event where this type of grafting was used — however with another olive variety, using a variation of the technique.
‘Innesto a gemma‘ occurs yet a way to cope with the spreading of Xylella fastidiosa (though it ought to be noted that it is a widely used technique also for other purposes, such as for cultivating a particular oil of a particular variety while making use of the rooted foundations of existing plants, as opposed to uproot and replant). In any case, the 700 olive trees that under the month of April been grafted using this practice in one of the orchards of Giorgio at Savoia, have all been so for the purpose of mitigating the effects of the plant bacteria: the practice has, much like that at Masseria Brancati, been undertaken as a precaution to cope with a problem before the occurrence of its outbreak. Moreover, it bases of the anticipation of a slow dieback of the landscape and a wish to protect it, as well as the production it sustains, best one can. Unlike in the orchards of Masseria Brancati pictured above however, these 700 trees, which by the way also are of the Ogliarola Salentina variety, though much younger with their twenty years of age, have been grafted with the highly productive and Xylella resistant variety of Favolosa (Fs-17). Curious about the fact that he had chosen to graft this variety — as if there were so many to choose from (!!) — which is one commonly used for superintensive olive growing, I asked several questions about his selection. Not least was I interested to know his notion of the sensuous experience of the oils produced of this variety, first level taster as he his, but also of the longevity of the grafted plants and the harvest technique to be used. Well, the oil is according to Giorgio not sensational, but it is good, and good oil makes better than no oil. Furthermore, while the variety of Favolosa occurs less tenable from a temporal aspect, cultivated for high yields for a limitation of time as it is, other resistant varieties may by the time these plants needs replacement, some twenty years from now, been found and yet another grafting event initiated. Importantly, while the variety, as mentioned, commonly is used for superintensive olive growing, thus aptly harvested, it is not the variety per se that set the frame for its harvest, but the plantation, for which reason these plants, no matter if it is Favolosa or Ogliarola olives to be harvested from them, will be harvested using a combination of pneumatic combs and an umbrella-equipped trunk-vibrator. The first harvest is believed to be done some two to three years from now and I am curious to follow the process, indeed I am.
A company that already planted Favolosa three years ago, making its first harvest and oil thereof last fall, is that of Primoljo. I had the great fortune to drive by last week on my way from Gallipoli — the place where Xylella fastidiosa first was detected in 2013 — and little did I know when I marked the producer down for paying a visit the upcoming week, that it was one of the first producers of Favolosa oil in the region. Now, one may figure that I as a researcher doing fieldwork about these matters in the region already should been aware of this producer, but fact of the matter is that there are hundreds of producers to be found here, many of which have been forced to shut down as a consequence of Xylella fastidiosa, that it is rather difficult to keep track of all given producers, even in a given (sub)area as Salento. I have done my groundwork, both searching for possible research collaborators online and by making personal visit, doing so both as part of my two reconnaissance trips and this long-term fieldwork, and having visited many places only to find them shut down, I realized rather quickly that the best way to go about this part of my research, is to make it a habit to drive around, covering large areas by car, and to stop at the olive oil pressing facilities — also, the orchards — where I notice activity. It might not be how I envisioned it as I initiated this research project, for as the very organized character that I am, I might have wished for a less organic finding of practitioners. I would, arguably, also have loved to always-already know who to be with when and where. However, that is rarely the way ethnographic research come about, let alone, how it come about in times of Covid-19, and better yet, in a place where the rhythm — of olive cultivation, olive oil production, the daily life in between — occurs differently ‘planned’ than such as I am used to practices thereof. And so, my go about technique of driving around, randomly stumbling upon people, places, presences and practices, truly turned out to be a great way to conduct this ethnographic study of mine: Not only have I gotten — still get — to explore the landscape, many parts thereof, as well as to experience the everyday life in the villages, as many roads goes through them, but also to develop an embodied and emplaced sense of being here (which is of importance to contextualize for instance the practices I am researching in time and space, putting into perspective for example their relative becoming).
On that note, the pictures below exemplifies research events happening on the way. For instance, the first time I drove by the field with partially cut down trees featured in the collage beneath, I understood nothing; I could not make sense of why some trees seemingly had been randomly cut down, though signs of Xylella fastidiosa occured on almost all remaining ones. I was much intrigued to figure out what it was that I had experienced though, so I noted it to be further explored. I now know, eight months after that initial encounter, that ‘innesto a gemma’ had been done on the cut-down trees, and returning to this place as soon as I learnt about this particular grafting technique, I noticed that the entire field had been grafted. The last three images feature another on-the-road happenstance, through which I for instance got to further explore the cultivation of selvatico, or so called wild olives, as well as ‘innesto a gemma‘ on such a selvatico. It occurs namely as such, that some of these selvatico appear resistant to Xylella fastidiosa. Meanwhile, as one know little about which ones — they are clustered together under the category of wild until cultivated as a specific variety— people make attempts to cultivate some of them in order to continue production. They do so by making use of the fact that olive plants in their so called natural growth habit grows bushed. Importantly, they do so also with a wish to cultivate olives ‘natural’ to the area and/or region (as opposed to import resistant varieties to it, the area or region that is, although that is being done too, for instance with Greek varieties). From my position, this is interesting as it is, but anthropologically speaking, the interest finds no limit. In any event and by way of wrapping up, the four pictures directly below are from my initial visit at Primoljo, and having made that first personal contact, I am to return shortly for yet another visit; one where I hopefully get to visit the plantations and know more about the cultivation of olives and oils, from the perspective of this particular producer that is.
