Trip Report Paris, Avignon, Lyon, Turin, Genoa, Reggio Emilia, Venice 2015
Sep 3rd, 2015, 11:29 AM
#41
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Why do you say La Spezia was "put on the map by the Costa Concordia" - ?
I would have thought that for most English speakers it was put on the map by Mary and Percy B. Shelley, because it was in the Gulf of La Spezia where Shelley drowned. But La Spezia has been an active Italian port since the Crusades. Its name means "spice". Here is a 1987 tourist article in the New York Times offering tips about visiting La Spezia as a destination for a multi-day stay
http://www.nytimes.com/1987/09/20/tr...f-liguria.html
I would have thought that for most English speakers it was put on the map by Mary and Percy B. Shelley, because it was in the Gulf of La Spezia where Shelley drowned. But La Spezia has been an active Italian port since the Crusades. Its name means "spice". Here is a 1987 tourist article in the New York Times offering tips about visiting La Spezia as a destination for a multi-day stay
http://www.nytimes.com/1987/09/20/tr...f-liguria.html
Sep 3rd, 2015, 11:47 AM
#42
I would have thought that for most English speakers it was put on the map by Mary and Percy B. Shelley, because it was in the Gulf of La Spezia where Shelley drowned.>>
they speak of little else on the upper deck of the Clapham omnibus, Sandralist.
they speak of little else on the upper deck of the Clapham omnibus, Sandralist.
Sep 3rd, 2015, 12:04 PM
#43
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Oh, Ann, very droll!
We don't have a Clapham omnibus in Aus, but we have just had an interesting matter of whether the retired judge heading a Royal Commission should recuse himself on grounds of apprehended bias.
We don't have a Clapham omnibus in Aus, but we have just had an interesting matter of whether the retired judge heading a Royal Commission should recuse himself on grounds of apprehended bias.
Sep 3rd, 2015, 12:48 PM
#44
ones tries, Peter.
I found that case, Peter, in fact you've had two judges getting themselves in a pickle about the same issue. Strangely enough we've had a similar problem, losing 2 judges who were supposed to chair the Royal commission on child abuse, both on the basis that they had links to the people they were going to have to investigate. The first one was the daughter of a previous Attorney General who was possibly implicated in a cover-up, and the second one used to go to dinners where a previous Home Secretary might have been present.
we've ended up with a chair from NZ who hopefully knows no-one at all!
I found that case, Peter, in fact you've had two judges getting themselves in a pickle about the same issue. Strangely enough we've had a similar problem, losing 2 judges who were supposed to chair the Royal commission on child abuse, both on the basis that they had links to the people they were going to have to investigate. The first one was the daughter of a previous Attorney General who was possibly implicated in a cover-up, and the second one used to go to dinners where a previous Home Secretary might have been present.
we've ended up with a chair from NZ who hopefully knows no-one at all!
Sep 8th, 2015, 03:57 AM
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On 18th August, 1859, Giuseppe Garibaldi spent the night at the Hotel Posta, Reggio Emilia. Peter S and his good wife, Louise, stayed at the Hotel Posta, 3rd to 6th September, 2015. Which is just a roundabout way of saying that the Hotel Posta has been in business for some little time.
The hotel is the oldest building standing in Reggio, dating from about 1400 or so. It used to be the meeting hall of the Town Captains of Reggio, in the days before there was a civic Mayor. Doubtless it was the job of the Captain to ensure the city gates were locked at night, sentries posted and paid on occasion, that sort of thing. The upstairs large room, formerly the Captain’s salon, is now a function room, but the crests of some of the captains, frescoed onto the walls, are still visible.
In October 1515, it was decreed that the Captain could find an alternate venue for meetings, and that the building should be converted to a hotel. So the hotel has been in business for just short of 500 years. Around 1910, the foyer and bar were re-decorated, so there is a rather Rococo impression as one enters, and more recently the façade has been brought back to its 1515 condition. That must have needed a deal of architectural archaeology. Really worth staying there, at about 85 euro a night, stepping back in history. In the dining room, there is a framed bill for someones meal, 150 years ago.
Reggio Emilia claims, with good enough reason, to be the birthplace of the Italian flag, green, white and red, and so there’s a flag museum in Reggio, that we didn’t get to visit. Reggio was also home to Loris Malaguzzi, who devised a new pedagogic approach to teaching pre-school and primary aged children, known now as the Reggio Emilia way of teaching. There is a centre at Reggio devoted to this approach, and we visited there. It showed a very different way of teaching, the teachers being more a co-learner with the children rather than an instructor. The approach to teaching has spread world wide – a conference of Reggio inspired educators in Melbourne recently drew some 1200 attendees. The Malaguzzi centre is well worth a visit if you are a teacher, or have little kids, for that matter. Something of a eye opener.
Saturday, day trip to Modena, where the Balsamic vinegar quarries are located. A great city for walking around, the Duomo about a thousand years old, with visible remnants of Roman tiled floors and foundations. The brick campanile of similar age (or at least part of it is that old), brick with a stone cladding. The lower cladding is composed of recycled Roman era grave stones. Italy is pretty serious about re-cycling to this day, sorting out glass from cardboard and so on, lessons learned in Modena, maybe.
There was a wedding in the Duomo when we were there, a seriously social kind of affair, and one would need to be well connected to secure the Duomo as a venue for a Saturday afternoon. Groom in black tie and tails, bride a lovely confection in white, choir, music, couple of hundred well wishers. In Melbourne, the bridal car will often be a Hummer limo; in Italy, expect a Fiat 500 or a 1950’s Lancia. A happy occasion for everyone, including we foreigners.
Sunday, Reggio to Venice, and after after three weeks on the road, we are finding it nice not to be moving.
The hotel is the oldest building standing in Reggio, dating from about 1400 or so. It used to be the meeting hall of the Town Captains of Reggio, in the days before there was a civic Mayor. Doubtless it was the job of the Captain to ensure the city gates were locked at night, sentries posted and paid on occasion, that sort of thing. The upstairs large room, formerly the Captain’s salon, is now a function room, but the crests of some of the captains, frescoed onto the walls, are still visible.
In October 1515, it was decreed that the Captain could find an alternate venue for meetings, and that the building should be converted to a hotel. So the hotel has been in business for just short of 500 years. Around 1910, the foyer and bar were re-decorated, so there is a rather Rococo impression as one enters, and more recently the façade has been brought back to its 1515 condition. That must have needed a deal of architectural archaeology. Really worth staying there, at about 85 euro a night, stepping back in history. In the dining room, there is a framed bill for someones meal, 150 years ago.
Reggio Emilia claims, with good enough reason, to be the birthplace of the Italian flag, green, white and red, and so there’s a flag museum in Reggio, that we didn’t get to visit. Reggio was also home to Loris Malaguzzi, who devised a new pedagogic approach to teaching pre-school and primary aged children, known now as the Reggio Emilia way of teaching. There is a centre at Reggio devoted to this approach, and we visited there. It showed a very different way of teaching, the teachers being more a co-learner with the children rather than an instructor. The approach to teaching has spread world wide – a conference of Reggio inspired educators in Melbourne recently drew some 1200 attendees. The Malaguzzi centre is well worth a visit if you are a teacher, or have little kids, for that matter. Something of a eye opener.
Saturday, day trip to Modena, where the Balsamic vinegar quarries are located. A great city for walking around, the Duomo about a thousand years old, with visible remnants of Roman tiled floors and foundations. The brick campanile of similar age (or at least part of it is that old), brick with a stone cladding. The lower cladding is composed of recycled Roman era grave stones. Italy is pretty serious about re-cycling to this day, sorting out glass from cardboard and so on, lessons learned in Modena, maybe.
There was a wedding in the Duomo when we were there, a seriously social kind of affair, and one would need to be well connected to secure the Duomo as a venue for a Saturday afternoon. Groom in black tie and tails, bride a lovely confection in white, choir, music, couple of hundred well wishers. In Melbourne, the bridal car will often be a Hummer limo; in Italy, expect a Fiat 500 or a 1950’s Lancia. A happy occasion for everyone, including we foreigners.
Sunday, Reggio to Venice, and after after three weeks on the road, we are finding it nice not to be moving.
Sep 8th, 2015, 10:07 AM
#48
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Venice.
Ah, Venice.
City of “The Aspern Papers” (a novel that I easily found it in myself to detest), Harry’s Bar and “Across the River and Into the Trees”, by Ernie, whose journalism pieces were better than his novels (man hooks fish, man loses fish, up grams, roll end credits).
Venice. City of the film festival, under way right now, finishing on Sunday next. Fortunately, the fast international movie set are mostly on the Lido, making occasional forays to the Bauer, and for the less fortunate, the Danieli. We are excused from having to mix with them.
Yachts, substantial yachts, trans-Atlantic steamer sized yachts parked along the Riva degli Schiavoni, comfortable gin palaces, helicopters, submersibles, polished brass, caviar, you get the picture. Luxury yachting. My experience of yachting is at the other end of the spectrum, getting hammered under sail, seasickness and haphazard navigation, so I don’t have much in common with the “come and visit us beside the Riva Schiavoni” group.
Unless it were to be say, the second cabin steward or Third Engineer issuing the invitation.
The Arts Biennale is also under way, under way since early May, so the initial rush of champagne openings and crowds has abated. I’m looking forward to visiting the Australian pavilion, designed by Denton Corker Marshall, architects who have done some great buildings in Melbourne. Our State Architects, but more sympathetic and less political than Albert Speer. People who have visited Melbourne would have passed under the big Yellow Finger on the freeway. That’s a bit of Denton Corker Marshall architectural hand writing. The pavilion in the Biennale gardens has the same handwriting, on a small scale.
I’m also looking forward to seeing the Venezuelan pavilion. Designed by Carlo Scarpa, my favourite architect in all the world, and recently restored. It was closed for the archi biennale last year, and now reopened.
And in between those things, just becoming reacquainted. We are in an apartment in Rio Terra dei Pensieri, not our fave part of town, a bit too close to P. Roma and said Pensieri. But we move in a week to near the Carmini, a more familiar part of town for us. That will be good.
Ah, Venice.
City of “The Aspern Papers” (a novel that I easily found it in myself to detest), Harry’s Bar and “Across the River and Into the Trees”, by Ernie, whose journalism pieces were better than his novels (man hooks fish, man loses fish, up grams, roll end credits).
Venice. City of the film festival, under way right now, finishing on Sunday next. Fortunately, the fast international movie set are mostly on the Lido, making occasional forays to the Bauer, and for the less fortunate, the Danieli. We are excused from having to mix with them.
Yachts, substantial yachts, trans-Atlantic steamer sized yachts parked along the Riva degli Schiavoni, comfortable gin palaces, helicopters, submersibles, polished brass, caviar, you get the picture. Luxury yachting. My experience of yachting is at the other end of the spectrum, getting hammered under sail, seasickness and haphazard navigation, so I don’t have much in common with the “come and visit us beside the Riva Schiavoni” group.
Unless it were to be say, the second cabin steward or Third Engineer issuing the invitation.
The Arts Biennale is also under way, under way since early May, so the initial rush of champagne openings and crowds has abated. I’m looking forward to visiting the Australian pavilion, designed by Denton Corker Marshall, architects who have done some great buildings in Melbourne. Our State Architects, but more sympathetic and less political than Albert Speer. People who have visited Melbourne would have passed under the big Yellow Finger on the freeway. That’s a bit of Denton Corker Marshall architectural hand writing. The pavilion in the Biennale gardens has the same handwriting, on a small scale.
I’m also looking forward to seeing the Venezuelan pavilion. Designed by Carlo Scarpa, my favourite architect in all the world, and recently restored. It was closed for the archi biennale last year, and now reopened.
And in between those things, just becoming reacquainted. We are in an apartment in Rio Terra dei Pensieri, not our fave part of town, a bit too close to P. Roma and said Pensieri. But we move in a week to near the Carmini, a more familiar part of town for us. That will be good.
Sep 8th, 2015, 11:36 AM
#49
Fortunately, the fast international movie set are mostly on the Lido, making occasional forays to the Bauer, and for the less fortunate, the Danieli. We are excused from having to mix with them.>>
ah i sfortunati! poor things to have to slum it at the Danieli.
good to hear that you're almost home.
ah i sfortunati! poor things to have to slum it at the Danieli.
good to hear that you're almost home.
Sep 9th, 2015, 09:08 AM
#50
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The Venice Arts Biennale – the 56th Biennale – is under way. One hundred and twelve years is quite some time to keep an event going. So we visited the exhibits of Guatemala, Grenada, an Arabic exhibition and “The Bridges of Graffiti”, “We must risk delight” – forty artists from LA.
Guatemala was interesting, exploring Death in some detail, some of it not for the kiddies, and making one think a bit. Others, not so interesting. Phil Jones, author of “the Venice Project”, (there you go, Phil, a free plug for your book, and fun to see you last Sunday night) has a concept that he calls “Art or Shed”. Is it art, or is it just a bunch of stuff from the shed.
Some of what we saw looked like a bunch of stuff from the shed.
I know that I have problems with non-representational art. When there is five hundred words explaining what the work is about, then it is a bit too opaque to me. When three glass panels are “exploring the place of women, the softness of the glass contrasting with the steel of the supporting frame, expressing the essential dichotomy of human existence”, then I am rather at a loss.
However, “The Eye of the Thunderstorm”, practices from the Arab World worked for me. Create a legend, pretend that we’ve found a container full of election material, lost since 1983. Pretend that it is the real deal, all the paraphernalia that might go into a campaign, and afterwards glorify the eventual winner, ruler, dictator. So we see tee shirts, baseball caps, crockery, postage stamps, bank notes, aircraft, motorcades, a fancy uniform with half a kilo of gold braid on it, Haile Selassi or the Shah of Iran incarnate in ephemera. There is a reference there to the Arab Spring, and to every tin-pot ruler that ever existed. Donald Trump, this includes you.
Lunch at the bar Al Squero on Fondamenta Nani was good, just opposite the Squero San Trovaso.
Guatemala was interesting, exploring Death in some detail, some of it not for the kiddies, and making one think a bit. Others, not so interesting. Phil Jones, author of “the Venice Project”, (there you go, Phil, a free plug for your book, and fun to see you last Sunday night) has a concept that he calls “Art or Shed”. Is it art, or is it just a bunch of stuff from the shed.
Some of what we saw looked like a bunch of stuff from the shed.
I know that I have problems with non-representational art. When there is five hundred words explaining what the work is about, then it is a bit too opaque to me. When three glass panels are “exploring the place of women, the softness of the glass contrasting with the steel of the supporting frame, expressing the essential dichotomy of human existence”, then I am rather at a loss.
However, “The Eye of the Thunderstorm”, practices from the Arab World worked for me. Create a legend, pretend that we’ve found a container full of election material, lost since 1983. Pretend that it is the real deal, all the paraphernalia that might go into a campaign, and afterwards glorify the eventual winner, ruler, dictator. So we see tee shirts, baseball caps, crockery, postage stamps, bank notes, aircraft, motorcades, a fancy uniform with half a kilo of gold braid on it, Haile Selassi or the Shah of Iran incarnate in ephemera. There is a reference there to the Arab Spring, and to every tin-pot ruler that ever existed. Donald Trump, this includes you.
Lunch at the bar Al Squero on Fondamenta Nani was good, just opposite the Squero San Trovaso.
Sep 9th, 2015, 09:26 AM
#51
Phil Jones, author of “the Venice Project”, (there you go, Phil, a free plug for your book, and fun to see you last Sunday night) has a concept that he calls “Art or Shed”. Is it art, or is it just a bunch of stuff from the shed?>>
I know which way I tend to think when it comes to modern art but sometimes it works, as that last work did for you, Peter.
I had to look up the Squero San Troves, and found that it's just opposite the gondola workshop just off the Zattere. that led me here:
https://osteriaalsquero.wordpress.com
nice website, nice position, and good reviews. if I do make it to Venice in February, I must remember to give it a go.
I know which way I tend to think when it comes to modern art but sometimes it works, as that last work did for you, Peter.
I had to look up the Squero San Troves, and found that it's just opposite the gondola workshop just off the Zattere. that led me here:
https://osteriaalsquero.wordpress.com
nice website, nice position, and good reviews. if I do make it to Venice in February, I must remember to give it a go.
Sep 10th, 2015, 12:40 PM
#52
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Thursday 10th September, a day trip to Padua. Half an hour on the train, and there you are. The purpose of going to Padua was to visit the Hortus cinctus, the Botanical Garden.
This is no ordinary rose bed and lawn type of garden, much more significant than that. Established under the auspices of the University of Padua in 1545, to cultivate medical plants, “simples” in the doctoring trade. The oldest such garden in the world, UNESCO World Heritage status granted in 1997, as a significant cultural site.
The medical garden is formal, circular, nice paths, plants divided into remedies, poisons too, and an area of carnivorous plants. There is a palm tree, planted in 1585, which inspired Goethe. It is in its own octagonal greenhouse, and last time we visited, the palm looked a bit stressed, wanting some space. Tradesmen are now building a new roof for the greenhouse, which will raise the apex by a couple of metres, ensuring the survival of the tree.
OK, that’s all great. But what we really came for was a new installation, another greenhouse. About one hundred metres long, and it is divided into five micro-climatic zones. There is a tropical greenhouse, essentially replicating conditions found in a rain forest – think the Amazon. Then a tropical sub-humid greenhouse, say parts of Asia. A temperate greenhouse, savannah typically, a Mediterranean greenhouse, and then an arid greenhouse. So as you walk through, you move from the most bio-diverse areas, the rain forest, to the areas with least bio-diversity, desert environments, American cacti, African succulents. The building is so well controlled that you can feel the change in humidity as you walk through. There are about 1,300 species represented, giant water lily pads, mangroves, palms, grasses, the lot.
The building management system is impressive. Panels of solar cells on the roof, with panels being remotely raised to allow ventilation. Louvres at low level, shade sails, fans, water sprays, and you can hear and see the building in action as the day progresses.
There are good explanations, in Italian and English, of how plants actually work. How humans have influenced the growth of plants (bananas don’t have seeds any more, maize cobs once were about an inch long, seedless watermelon), and in turn, how plants have influenced human development. There is an interesting video of a group of people in the Amazon jungle. They collect and pulverise a poisonous grass, put the grass in a woven basket. Immerse the poisonous grass in a stream, and the fish rise to the surface through lack of oxygen, to be shot with bow and arrow. The poison loses its potency in a few minutes.
There is a nice cafeteria, built about a year ago, bookshop, visitor centre. Admission ten euro, eight for seniors such as I. You’d want to allow three plus hours to do it justice.
This is no ordinary rose bed and lawn type of garden, much more significant than that. Established under the auspices of the University of Padua in 1545, to cultivate medical plants, “simples” in the doctoring trade. The oldest such garden in the world, UNESCO World Heritage status granted in 1997, as a significant cultural site.
The medical garden is formal, circular, nice paths, plants divided into remedies, poisons too, and an area of carnivorous plants. There is a palm tree, planted in 1585, which inspired Goethe. It is in its own octagonal greenhouse, and last time we visited, the palm looked a bit stressed, wanting some space. Tradesmen are now building a new roof for the greenhouse, which will raise the apex by a couple of metres, ensuring the survival of the tree.
OK, that’s all great. But what we really came for was a new installation, another greenhouse. About one hundred metres long, and it is divided into five micro-climatic zones. There is a tropical greenhouse, essentially replicating conditions found in a rain forest – think the Amazon. Then a tropical sub-humid greenhouse, say parts of Asia. A temperate greenhouse, savannah typically, a Mediterranean greenhouse, and then an arid greenhouse. So as you walk through, you move from the most bio-diverse areas, the rain forest, to the areas with least bio-diversity, desert environments, American cacti, African succulents. The building is so well controlled that you can feel the change in humidity as you walk through. There are about 1,300 species represented, giant water lily pads, mangroves, palms, grasses, the lot.
The building management system is impressive. Panels of solar cells on the roof, with panels being remotely raised to allow ventilation. Louvres at low level, shade sails, fans, water sprays, and you can hear and see the building in action as the day progresses.
There are good explanations, in Italian and English, of how plants actually work. How humans have influenced the growth of plants (bananas don’t have seeds any more, maize cobs once were about an inch long, seedless watermelon), and in turn, how plants have influenced human development. There is an interesting video of a group of people in the Amazon jungle. They collect and pulverise a poisonous grass, put the grass in a woven basket. Immerse the poisonous grass in a stream, and the fish rise to the surface through lack of oxygen, to be shot with bow and arrow. The poison loses its potency in a few minutes.
There is a nice cafeteria, built about a year ago, bookshop, visitor centre. Admission ten euro, eight for seniors such as I. You’d want to allow three plus hours to do it justice.
Sep 10th, 2015, 01:34 PM
#53
is it likely to be open in February, Peter? Last Feb I had an idea to go to Padua to see the Hortus but never got there and it was quite cold so i felt that I probably didn't miss anything. The greenhouses make it seem much more attractive though, if they are open in Winter.
[answering my own question, yes there are ; 9am to 5pm in the winter months]
http://www.ortobotanicopd.it/en/il-g...diversità
[answering my own question, yes there are ; 9am to 5pm in the winter months]
http://www.ortobotanicopd.it/en/il-g...diversità
Sep 12th, 2015, 08:56 AM
#54
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Palazzo Tiepolo Passi, San Polo 2744, Venezia, a most satisfying Biennale event; The Dialogue of Fire. Ceramic and glass masters from Barcelona to Venice.
Glass and ceramics in a common space.
Both glass and ceramics are made of silica as a base material. Sand, which is mainly silica, melted down with potash and other ingredients to make glass, ground finely with other types of minerals such as kaolin, to make clay for ceramics. A nice conjunction, a dialogue. The other part of the dialogue, of course, is that clay is worked cold, and fired to obtain strength. Glass is worked hot, and cools to obtain strength. A counter dialogue, in a way.
There are about forty ceramic plates, all of a size, some made by ceramic artists, others designed by artists, painters, novelists, musicians, all telling something of the story of their creators.
Two glass artists are represented, Judi Harvest and Silvano Rubino, who both work with craftsmen on Murano. Judi’s work is “The Room of Dreams”, about a dozen pillows, full size, made of glass, on a circular bed. Some pillows plumped up, others showing where a head might have rested, a variety of colours from clear, through to chrome plated. You are able to touch the pillows, feel their weight, but are kindly requested not to sit on them. A nice contradiction, as pillows are meant to be soft. Maybe there is a bedtime story in the making there – the story of how the pillows were made is shown on an excellent video display.
Silvano is into the de-construct / re-construct thing, looking at negative space, imagining how old things would appear if re-made now. So he has taken a room in the Palazzo, which has nice burgundy fabrics on the walls, and would have had a dining table of classic form. Replace the table with a glass topped, chromed legged table, about about four metres long, a place setting at each end. The place settings have been created by laser cutting the shapes of cutlery and a plate out of the glass top. Fun and intriguing.
Other de/re-constructions are a set of silver mounted decanters on a silver tray, shown in an adjacent photo. The decanters are replaced by a set of sand-blasted bottles with black caps, on a black glass tray.
Another piece has a photo of a secretaire, antique, with a number of small statuettes on shelves behind the glass doors. Replaced by a head, made in glass, with beautiful features. The head was cast using lost wax, a method mostly used for casting non-ferrous metals. Again, an interesting conjunction.
I know that my descriptions don’t do the works justice, and they are pretty special.
We were lucky to meet Silvano Rubino, purely by chance. A gentleman with a lively sense of humour, happy to talk about what his work means to him, how he has come up with his concepts. That gave us a deeper understanding of his work.
Glass and ceramics in a common space.
Both glass and ceramics are made of silica as a base material. Sand, which is mainly silica, melted down with potash and other ingredients to make glass, ground finely with other types of minerals such as kaolin, to make clay for ceramics. A nice conjunction, a dialogue. The other part of the dialogue, of course, is that clay is worked cold, and fired to obtain strength. Glass is worked hot, and cools to obtain strength. A counter dialogue, in a way.
There are about forty ceramic plates, all of a size, some made by ceramic artists, others designed by artists, painters, novelists, musicians, all telling something of the story of their creators.
Two glass artists are represented, Judi Harvest and Silvano Rubino, who both work with craftsmen on Murano. Judi’s work is “The Room of Dreams”, about a dozen pillows, full size, made of glass, on a circular bed. Some pillows plumped up, others showing where a head might have rested, a variety of colours from clear, through to chrome plated. You are able to touch the pillows, feel their weight, but are kindly requested not to sit on them. A nice contradiction, as pillows are meant to be soft. Maybe there is a bedtime story in the making there – the story of how the pillows were made is shown on an excellent video display.
Silvano is into the de-construct / re-construct thing, looking at negative space, imagining how old things would appear if re-made now. So he has taken a room in the Palazzo, which has nice burgundy fabrics on the walls, and would have had a dining table of classic form. Replace the table with a glass topped, chromed legged table, about about four metres long, a place setting at each end. The place settings have been created by laser cutting the shapes of cutlery and a plate out of the glass top. Fun and intriguing.
Other de/re-constructions are a set of silver mounted decanters on a silver tray, shown in an adjacent photo. The decanters are replaced by a set of sand-blasted bottles with black caps, on a black glass tray.
Another piece has a photo of a secretaire, antique, with a number of small statuettes on shelves behind the glass doors. Replaced by a head, made in glass, with beautiful features. The head was cast using lost wax, a method mostly used for casting non-ferrous metals. Again, an interesting conjunction.
I know that my descriptions don’t do the works justice, and they are pretty special.
We were lucky to meet Silvano Rubino, purely by chance. A gentleman with a lively sense of humour, happy to talk about what his work means to him, how he has come up with his concepts. That gave us a deeper understanding of his work.
Sep 13th, 2015, 12:36 PM
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Looking forward to that exhibition, Peter! Also must visit the botanical gardens in Padua - Ann, if you make it in Feb, maybe we could go together?
Can you both stop publicising Al Squero, though?!?
We went for lunch on Friday & there weren't many cicheti left, went again today and there were *none*!
Can you both stop publicising Al Squero, though?!?
We went for lunch on Friday & there weren't many cicheti left, went again today and there were *none*!
Sep 13th, 2015, 01:11 PM
#56
ok, I'll forget about Al Squero - let's hope that the initial enthusiasm for it has fallen off by February.
I'd love to go to Padua with you Caroline - if the Venice trip comes off in Feb, it's a deal.
I'd love to go to Padua with you Caroline - if the Venice trip comes off in Feb, it's a deal.
Sep 15th, 2015, 11:06 AM
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Venice
2015
Arts Biennale.
The Arts Biennale can be confusing. Arrangements of things that are termed “an installation”. A Chinese artist making a sound commentary on Chinese consumerism, by way of pharmaceutical capsules, about half a metre high, carefully arranged.
Performance arts, like our friend Phil participating in the reading of Das Kapital, session by session. Phil says it’s about to get boring, as economic theory and tables can make for pretty pedestrian reading.
There was a little performance piece on Sunday night, at the north end of Fond. di Madonna, at the bridge across the Rio di Santa Maria Maggiore. A most spirited performance, ghetto blaster cranked up to full noise, half a dozen folk on percussion, mainly aluminium saucepan lids and a couple of steel woks for bass notes, bashing them on the cast iron railings of the bridge. Not exactly your Quadri Stagioni, but a pleasing change.
So the melody was being carried on the bridge, and the continuo provided by the guys in the Pensieri, bashing on the bars and louvres with whatever implements came to hand. A prison micro riot, or a performance piece. Who knows? I can’t find reference to this performance in my Biennale guide, but maybe it is more an impromptu kind of thing.
We moved house yesterday, from the apartment near to Piazzle Roma to the place we have for the next month. Moving was no big deal, three bridges and a ten minute walk. But at the same time, the move has put us in a different part of Venice, even though it was only a short walk. There is a different feel, a little supermarket that is really good, a small metal working shop at our front door, grinders, power hack saw, press, and I like the smell of hot metal as we walk past. We are completely off the tourist trail, just west of the Palazzo Ariani on Fondamenta Briati.
Interesting. In Melbourne, if I moved house to a place ten minutes away, there would be almost no difference. But in Venice there is a big difference, and that says something of the parochial nature of Venice that still obtains.
Querini Stampalia Foundation today, a Biennale exhibition looking at the interface between Venice, tourists and workers. There was one touching exhibit. A brick, with the footprint of a youth in it, another brick with the footprint of a dog in it.
Boy starts work in a brickyard in 1740. His dog comes along. Boy chases dog away, treads on brick, leaves footprint in wet brick. Works at brickyard all his life, dies aged about forty, is survived by his mother, who also works in the brickyard.
That brick is the only thing that survives from that worker, the only tangible evidence that he ever existed.
Reminds me of the last line from the Hemingway story, “The Old Man at the Bridge”. “That, and the fact that cats could look after themselves, was all the luck that old man was ever going to have.”
The Quereni Stampalia is still my favourite building in all of Venice.
Meanwhile, Australia has dispensed with a Prime Minister of right wing persuasion. Speaking of bricks, I believe that the space between his ears was mainly filled with masonry.
2015
Arts Biennale.
The Arts Biennale can be confusing. Arrangements of things that are termed “an installation”. A Chinese artist making a sound commentary on Chinese consumerism, by way of pharmaceutical capsules, about half a metre high, carefully arranged.
Performance arts, like our friend Phil participating in the reading of Das Kapital, session by session. Phil says it’s about to get boring, as economic theory and tables can make for pretty pedestrian reading.
There was a little performance piece on Sunday night, at the north end of Fond. di Madonna, at the bridge across the Rio di Santa Maria Maggiore. A most spirited performance, ghetto blaster cranked up to full noise, half a dozen folk on percussion, mainly aluminium saucepan lids and a couple of steel woks for bass notes, bashing them on the cast iron railings of the bridge. Not exactly your Quadri Stagioni, but a pleasing change.
So the melody was being carried on the bridge, and the continuo provided by the guys in the Pensieri, bashing on the bars and louvres with whatever implements came to hand. A prison micro riot, or a performance piece. Who knows? I can’t find reference to this performance in my Biennale guide, but maybe it is more an impromptu kind of thing.
We moved house yesterday, from the apartment near to Piazzle Roma to the place we have for the next month. Moving was no big deal, three bridges and a ten minute walk. But at the same time, the move has put us in a different part of Venice, even though it was only a short walk. There is a different feel, a little supermarket that is really good, a small metal working shop at our front door, grinders, power hack saw, press, and I like the smell of hot metal as we walk past. We are completely off the tourist trail, just west of the Palazzo Ariani on Fondamenta Briati.
Interesting. In Melbourne, if I moved house to a place ten minutes away, there would be almost no difference. But in Venice there is a big difference, and that says something of the parochial nature of Venice that still obtains.
Querini Stampalia Foundation today, a Biennale exhibition looking at the interface between Venice, tourists and workers. There was one touching exhibit. A brick, with the footprint of a youth in it, another brick with the footprint of a dog in it.
Boy starts work in a brickyard in 1740. His dog comes along. Boy chases dog away, treads on brick, leaves footprint in wet brick. Works at brickyard all his life, dies aged about forty, is survived by his mother, who also works in the brickyard.
That brick is the only thing that survives from that worker, the only tangible evidence that he ever existed.
Reminds me of the last line from the Hemingway story, “The Old Man at the Bridge”. “That, and the fact that cats could look after themselves, was all the luck that old man was ever going to have.”
The Quereni Stampalia is still my favourite building in all of Venice.
Meanwhile, Australia has dispensed with a Prime Minister of right wing persuasion. Speaking of bricks, I believe that the space between his ears was mainly filled with masonry.
Sep 15th, 2015, 12:04 PM
#59
Performance arts, like our friend Phil participating in the reading of Das Kapital, session by session. Phil says it’s about to get boring, as economic theory and tables can make for pretty pedestrian reading.>>
mmmm - not sure that it would ever reach great levels of excitement, but what ever floats your boat, I suppose. Was the reading in English, Italian or German? Congrats to Phil for getting involved in the Biennale, anyway.
I've not made it to the Querini Stampalia yet - thanks for reminding me to put it on my list for February, if the trip comes off.
I see that your new abode is only 5 mins walk to the Campo Santa Margarita which I know well as the language school is there, but I never explored the area to the west of it much, as my digs were in the opposite direction. If I make it back next Feb, I'll be sure to try to find it. BTW, you probably already know it, but il caffe rosso in the Campo SM is very nice with good spritz and cicchetti -
http://www.cafferosso.it/pages/menu.html
mmmm - not sure that it would ever reach great levels of excitement, but what ever floats your boat, I suppose. Was the reading in English, Italian or German? Congrats to Phil for getting involved in the Biennale, anyway.
I've not made it to the Querini Stampalia yet - thanks for reminding me to put it on my list for February, if the trip comes off.
I see that your new abode is only 5 mins walk to the Campo Santa Margarita which I know well as the language school is there, but I never explored the area to the west of it much, as my digs were in the opposite direction. If I make it back next Feb, I'll be sure to try to find it. BTW, you probably already know it, but il caffe rosso in the Campo SM is very nice with good spritz and cicchetti -
http://www.cafferosso.it/pages/menu.html
Sep 17th, 2015, 02:40 AM
#60
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I thought all the Biennale exhibitions at the QS this year were good. The brickworks bit was very moving, wasn't it?
Peter, did I mention the Oxford School of English (the Venice one) has moved to the QS - posh, eh? I imagine they must have a separate entrance round the back but I don't know yet.
Ann, that area to the west of CSM has lots of interesting things to see, including the church of Sant'Angelo Raffaele (featured in 'Miss Garnet's Angel') and our very favourite church, San Nicolo dei Mendicoli. Much of the QS is only open for Biennale exhibitions but the permanently-open parts (the museum and the Carlo Scarpa area including the garden) are well worth visiting in their own right.
Peter, did I mention the Oxford School of English (the Venice one) has moved to the QS - posh, eh? I imagine they must have a separate entrance round the back but I don't know yet.
Ann, that area to the west of CSM has lots of interesting things to see, including the church of Sant'Angelo Raffaele (featured in 'Miss Garnet's Angel') and our very favourite church, San Nicolo dei Mendicoli. Much of the QS is only open for Biennale exhibitions but the permanently-open parts (the museum and the Carlo Scarpa area including the garden) are well worth visiting in their own right.
