111 (Day 24)

I walked to work early today, to get some things done before the city gets busy and noisy. I’ve started to enjoy late nights and early mornings much more, when I can have the city to myself.

I finally found out how the house numbers of Venice work. Until now I’ve wondered how they seem to follow no particular order and it seemed like houses were numbered from 1 upwards over the whole city, not down each street. The apartment I’m staying in, for example, is number 5670 but there are maybe ten houses at the most in the street. There are also house numbers where no doorway exists anymore.

Apparently the numbers run upwards from one to whatever across each of the six sestieri. So in San Marco the Doges Palace is number 1, and then it goes on from there. I was thinking I might go to the other five sestiere and try to find property number 1, or number 111 (the same number as my house at home). I like the idea that in Cardiff there will loads of houses numbered 111, but in Venice there are only six. It means you have a much smaller chance of your post getting lost I suppose. About a year ago, obviously when we had nothing else better to do, me and my other half were thinking of attempting to go around Cardiff and photograph all the other houses numbered 111, so this poses an opportunity to (sort of) fulfil that ambition, provided I don’t get lost. Enough of my rambling, if I do it I’ll post the pictures up.

Another thing I like about the house numbers here is that they are all painted on in the same style, I’m guessing by the council. There’s something very lovely about the style, shape and the colour of them, although the Venice branch of B&Q can’t be doing a very good trade in little metal numbers.

Other than this minor obsession, the day went by rather uneventfully and in the evening I headed to the Wee Red Bar to say goodbye to some more friends.

Walking home I saw a poo floating past in the canal. It just looks like a blur as my camera decided that I wasn’t allowed to use flash, but I can confirm it was definitely a human specimen (apologies for the apalling photoshop skills). I probably shouldn’t dwell on it too much but it did conjure up images from last night’s ghost tour and what Venice would have been like in the not so distant past, when all household waste went straight into the canals.

I also came across a one-way sign. I don’t know why this was so unexpected, it makes perfect sense to make narrow canals operate in one direction only, but for some reason it seemed quite novel. There are also two sets of traffic lights somewhere to be found, again a mission for another day.

As I was thinking that I didn’t really have enough to say about my day and that this would trump my other blogs for the dullest yet I did a double take, in that ‘am-I-drunker-than-I-think’ kind of way. I seized the opportunity to make a film blog, something I’ve wanted to try for a while. It was actually quite a freaky sight, late at night catching a mannequin moving out of the corner of my eye. They’re quite eery, and I’m not sure I like the thought that while everyone is tucked up in their beds these four characters are rotating round and round. What made it spookier was that it was deadly quiet except for an owl tweeting (I didn’t know owls liked Venice, not many trees?) and some distant footsteps getting closer and closer. Unfortunately my camera doesn’t have a microphone so you will just have to imagine that part. Anyway, take a look at my first foray into film-making. I won’t give up my day job.

Blood and guts (Day 23)

This evening I went on a ghost walk. I've never been on a guided tour before and normally would think they are a waste of money, teaching you nothing you can't learn from a guidebook and generally making you feel like a bit of an idiot. This one promised to show us th darker side of Venice, all the ghosts and ghastly things that went on, so much more up my street.

We met in St Marks Square and waited patiently for the off. I’m guessing the guide had toned it down a bit as there were some youngish children on the tour, and he kept stumbling over his words, trying not to say things like ‘sex’. I gave him the benefit of the doubt for a bit, but was expecting a good return on my investment. He took us round a few sites, explaining how the public hangings took place between the two tall columns on St Marks Square that face the lagoon and that extra naughty people were hung in cages from the tower so that they could be poked with sticks.

We were recounted a few ghost stories about lovers, mainly ones where the man had decided to kill his wife, felt guilty about it afterwards and then horrible things happened. Or that two people were forbidden to marry, at least one of them was killed, and then haunted various areas or buildings… you know the sort of thing. One particular incident was linked to this curly tower called the Bovolo, in the Palazzo of which a jealous father lived, and wasn’t happy with his daughter going out with a local carpenter. Apparently he said “If you’re going to marry a carpenter then it will be Jesus Christ” and sent her off to be a nun. She then killed herself, or was killed by him, I forget, and proceeded to haunt the place, but in a nice way because she didn’t hold a grudge.

We were also shown a building near the Ponte Dei Bareteri (the main route from St Marks to Rialto) where there was a secret spy-hole to see who was at the door. If it was a lady caller the male of the household had a secret passage, ending in a door under the bridge in the canal, through which to evacuate his chosen prostitute for the evening.

I went on the tour hoping to get really spooked, but I soon realised this wasn’t going to happen. It’s still nice to walk around Venice at night and be told interesting little stories about the places you come across. I learnt that the reason there has been so much change in the water level of the canals from the morning to the evening over the last few days is because it’s approaching the equinox and this is the time when the biggest tidal changes occur. I’ve been noticing this but didn’t know why it was suddenly happening. I took the picture below when the water level was so low earlier I could see the bottom of the canal, it was about a foot deep. I’m hoping to see aqua alta during my stay here, they have already got the board walks out ready.

Anyway, back to the tour. We made our way past the Fenice opera house, which has burnt down 3 times. According to our guide this is because it is built on the graveyard of the opposite church and the dead were getting their own back for people having fun on their graves. Alternatively it could have been an insurance job.

My favourite (or I should say least favourite) story of the night centred around the Riva di Piazzio (or at least that’s what I thought it said but now can’t find it on my map), where a man worked on a building site. He lived too far away to go home for lunch so frequented a small Taverna on the opposite side of the Grand Canal to the main casino. This Taverna was well liked in the area and was regarded as the best place to get a beef stew. It was hearty, cheap and delicious. One day, whilst tucking in to his favourite dish the man chomped on something hard. On closer inspection it wasn’t a bone or piece of gristle but a fleshy small human finger, complete with fingernail. He decided not to make a scene, but wrap the finger in his handkerchief, pay for his meal and leave. He headed straight for the police, or whoever was in charge in those days, and the place was instantly swarming with officials. In the kitchen of the restaurant they found the remains of countless children, all butchered ready for the pot. Because of the recent plague there were hundreds of orphans roaming the streets who wouldn’t be missed if someone chopped them up and ate them.

They cut off the restaurateur’s arms, nailed them to his chest and then beheaded him in St Marks square. That’s the sort of thing I was after, a bit of gore!

Wandering around the streets of Venice you can just imagine all this happening, there must have been allsorts going on here in its heyday. I’ve also learnt that for every tale there is an alternative version and that Venetian history is notoriously difficult to pin down. For example, they have many different explanations for the six prongs on the front of a Gondola…some say it is representative of a Roman galleon, others a judicial axe and others the key symbol of Egyptian funerary boats. The Gondoliers believe they represent the six districts of Venice, but can’t agree what the small trumpet-like blade on top represents or the prong that points backwards.

So I’m not saying that the tour guides sit in their offices, coming up with elaborate stories to encourage visitors to part with their money, but I did take everything I was told with a pinch of salt and know that the stories they recount to you completely depend on the versions their grandmothers told them.

Secrets of la Serenissima (Day 22)

On my way home today I found this little heart above a low alleyway near the Salizada Dei Pignater. Apparently if you rub it and make a wish it will come true by the end of the year. Watch this space!

I also came across this tableau depicting an ice-cream accident. What a sorry little sight.

Venice is full of interesting facts and history, most of which can be read about in guide books. But there are lots of other intriguing curiosities that I’ve found that I have no explanation for. I keep seeing these metal railing structures in the corners of bridges.

I thought they could be to stop you climbing the bridge, but it actually makes it easier. They might be for putting a bale of hay behind so that hungry horses can have a feed on their way past (in the olden days I mean), or maybe they are for growing flowers behind, or putting naughty kids in? I’m a bit baffled but will try to find out what their use is.

I’ve also noticed small metal boxes with key holes sunk into house walls, like letter boxes but with no hole for letters. I can’t see what you would need to keep just outside your house that you couldn’t keep inside it? One Christmas my mum bought some Stinking Bishop cheese and it was so smelly we had to keep it in the shed and one of us went out to the garden every time we wanted cheese and biscuits. They like good cheese here so maybe these are little cheese safe’s, to keep the house smelling nice? I also thought they could be for keeping a spare set of keys in in case you lock yourself out, but you’d still need a key to get to it. Maybe they’re some way of sharing things or exchanging goods. Person A puts something in there, Person B also has a key and comes to collect it. This system would be useful for drug dealers or secret lovers, but the box being in the wall of your house might be a bit of a giveaway. I’m getting carried away, there is probably a perfectly simple explanation.

This evening I went for a walk. Venice is so much nicer and more peaceful at night. St Marks square was even calm, it's actually quite a nice atmosphere at night. I found out that 80% of tourists only come for the day so at night it's just 20% of us left, and about 60,000 residents. I spotted an interesting take on the Venetian mask and some small dead animals on strings dressed up ready for carnival.

The evening ended on a fig and walnut ice-cream from the Gelateria nearby (I'm developing an addiction). I walked home carefully to stop it coming to the same fate as the one I spotted earlier in the day.

Seeking Shelter (Day 21)

Today we set off to the Lido to take part in Fran Stacey/Rhubaba's 'Seeking Shelter' project. We hopped on a Vaporetto at Rialto and wound our way down the Grand Canal. I took this photo of the Doges Palace, where you can see that one window is lower and more ornate than the others. I did know the reason for this but I've forgotten. It's something to do with it taking ages to build and someone taking over from someone else, changing the plans to their own. There is a lot of that in Venice. Later additions and merging architectural styles. It's a bit of a mish mash but seems to work.

There was a lady on the boat with a strange straw hat but in a farmer style peak.

We arrived at Lido. It's very different from the main bit of Venice. There are cars, bikes and loads of scooters, with new buildings lining 'strip' style streets.

This poster caught our eye. I don't know who Marco Bolis but he seems very pleased with himself.

We took a bus to the other end of the island and walked down a path made of crushed shells where there are hundreds of stone jetties jutting out into the sea with naked men sunbathing on them. (We were expecting them as we had gone to the nudist part). In this area people come and built beach shacks, either on the beach or on the jetties themselves. They are what could be described as as 'minimal', even by shack standards, but are very lovely things. The one that can be seen on the left of the picture below has been built and inhabited by a group who keep coming and adding to it over time and have to re-build it every now and then when it gets burnt down. They fish off the end of the jetty and cook the fish for dinner in the shack. What a nice lifestyle.

It was our job for the day to help Fran construct one. We chose a spot next to this optimistic graffiti ('A love is born').

We gathered lots of driftwood and began to make the foundations. We copied the design from our neighbours and it quickly began to take shape. I attribute most of our success to the Rambo-style headbands we made ourselves, making us feel like a real team.

We were extremely proud of our creation and had a real sense of achievement by the time this beauty was finished.

Time for a quick swim (more of a paddle) and then back to Venice for a drink at the Wee Red Bar (which is what the Scottish contingent have re-named Il Ponte). I passed this poor little fella on the way home. If he had the sense to live on Venice's main island where there are no vehicles he'd have been luckier, but on Lido he met his untimely end under the wheels of something heavy.

A staple diet of ice cream (Day 20)

Well, if you have read yesterday's blog about a party round our apartment, you will not be expecting much from today's offering. A lot of our friends are leaving over the next few days, and there are more people coming out to take their place so there are lots of drinks to be had and aquantances to be made.

After managing to get to work on time and presentable the day started with breakfast.

Swiftly followed by lunch.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of art talk, giving directions and cleaning. Then we headed to the Spritz bar for a final evening of Glenmorangie and mortadella. (trust me it's a great combination).

I spied a woman wearing two hats and surreptitiously managed to take a shot. Her husband noticed so I had to try and pretend I was very interested in my camera and try out lots of other shots in their vague direction. The end result maybe wasn't worth it, although the hat she had chosen to wear was a pirate hat so maybe it was...

Other things I've seen today include: A massive cruise liner that formed the basis for a conversation about a possible adaptation of King Kong, a small dog having a big shit in the middle of Via Garibaldi and I awoke to the apartment opposite blaring out 'Hungry Eyes' from Dirty Dancing (technically not something I've seen but have heard).

This is literally all that has happened to me today. Sorry.

Tomorrow I am going to the Lido for the first time and will be helping Fran from Rhubaba make a shelter so better get some rest.

The perfect Italian day (Day 19)

After kicking my pining for Cardiff into touch, today has been lovely. We wandered to work, and got a coffee and a croissant. Very civilised. 

I did a bit of pottering and sorting, and then we got on with a good old chat for the rest of the morning. There is a household just by the Welsh pavillion that always hangs it's washing out in order of size (this was one of our topics of conversation). Not the most intelectual discussion, but 'site-specific'.

Then I had a lovely canal-side lunch of fresh pasta,

while watching this kid parking his boat. I'm pretty sure there must be an age limit on driving motorboats, and I'm pretty sure he's under it.

Watched a peach float past.

I also did some mild stalking.

I've seen this couple around Venice. They're are super cool. She always has the same outfit on - wedges, bright yellow socks and a short black dress. She also wears bright red lipstick, but I was too chicken to take a picture when they were facing me.

In the afternoon I read some poetry. Very civilised again.

Then we wandered home, picking up dinner on the way and cooked a big meal for twenty friends. Party. What a lovely day.

Someone came along who happened to have been in the very same apartment last year for a party. What are the chances of that?

We wish we were in the Pen & Wig (Day 18)

I'm missing home today. Me and Tom have sat here thinking of all the lovely things about Cardiff, that we probably wouldn't think were so lovely if we were actually there. We're in one of the most amazing cities in the world and all we want is cold, dull weather, a nice bit of mashed potato and a good pint of real ale. How boring and rubbish are we?

Wikipedia describes homesickness as:
"The distress or impairment caused by an actual or anticipated separation from the specific home environment or attachment objects. Homesickness frequently occurs when one travels and may be exacerbated by unfamiliar environments or foreign cultural contexts". - So I'm normal then.

Understanding that I'm pretty lucky to be in Venice for 6 weeks I felt the need to combat this thing straigth away so promptly turned to google for some advice. I came across an excellent website called 'Mind Manager', to help people manage their bodies, minds, emotions and thoughts (some people have way too much time on their hands!). It gave a list of suggestions to help overcome homesickness.

Try a trial run. (too late)

Bring something that reminds you of home. (check)

Call home when you can. (I do)

Do something you enjoy. (I am!)
Talk to a friend, ideally someone who's going through the same experience you are. (I am, he's not helping)

Write in a journal. (Yep, got that one covered too)
Stay active. (You can't not be active here)

Review your expectations. (maybe this is the one I should concentrate on?)
Talk to an adult. (That may prove tricky)

 

So let's try to review my expectations. I think what I expected was that everything was going to be amazing, all the time. But in reality there is a routine, you still have to do your washing, shopping and work. So when a day like today pops up and nothing really happens you think, I could be at home with nothing really happening, but at least I'd be at home with friends and family, with my own bed to go to. I actually have another one to add to Mr Mind Manager's list. It's called drinking.

 

I suppose that sandwiched between having the best meal ever yesterday, and looking forward to a big social gathering tomorrow evening, today was always going to struggle competing.

 

So as not to completely waste the day I decided to occupy myself with answering two burning questions from the last week.

1. Which was the first building in Venice?

2. How many photographs are taken here every day?

 

Well obviously both are pretty tricky to answer. Thanks to Wikipedia, again, I have managed to ascertain that "The traditional founding [of Venice] is identified with the dedication of the first church, that of San Giacomo at the islet of Rialto, which is said to have been at the stroke of noon on 25 March 421". So I suppose if I was being clever about it, then this is the first building in Venice as before it was officially declared there was no Venice for buildings to exists in in the first place. The likelihood is that the first building in the area now known as Venice was a fisherman's hut somewhere in the lagoon.

 

As for question number two I've had a bit more luck. The ammount of photos taken in Venice every day is 2,739,726.03 (approximately).

 

Here are the sum total of my photograph's for the day that I took in Scottish pavillion's exhibition of Karla Black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

What's hot and what's not (Day 17)

I've been here a while now, started to find my way around, feeling a bit more at home and had a chance to observe the city. I've been keeping a list (I like lists) of what I think are the best things about Venice, and the not so best things. So I think it's about time I posted it up. I will add anything else I discover throughout the rest of my stay here.

Venice's good points

1. Spritz con Aperol, or just a cheap prosecco is nice too
2. Grapes that taste like strawberries (I think they're called Fragola?)
3. No cars or traffic and having to get around by boat, it's novel for me I suppose
4. It's beautiful and unique
5. There's water everywhere, I think that being around water makes you happy
6. Outdoor/alfresco living and dining, in the Summer and Autumn at least
7. There are hardly any roudy drunks (which comes hand in hand with alfresco drinking in the UK)
8. Laid back slow pace of life
9. All most everyone is really friendly
10. Shops that will fill plastic bottles with wine
11. All the contemporary art and old masters you could possibly wish for
12. I feel very safe here, even late at night on my own
13. Lots of dogs, but not as many cats as I'd hoped for
14. The light is amazing, probably because of all the water reflecting it
15. Chicetti
16. Amazing architecture and views
17. History and constantly finding out new stories, whether they're true or not
18. Getting lost, or to put it another way consantly discovering new places!

Venice's not so good points

1. McDonalds and Hard Rock Cafe
2. Sore feet and sweating all day
3. Menu turistico
4. Mosquito bites
5. Cruise liners
6. Dog shit
7. Tourists
8. Missing home
9. It can be claustrophobic and noisy
10. Carrying everything and heavy bags

Thankfully there are more good than bad points! But we'll see how it looks by the end of my stay. I realise there are no pictures today so I'll leave you with another one of Venice's good points, sorry I couldn't help myself. A place can't be all that bad if there is a shop called 'Fanny' that sells leather goods...

"You're very nice, and everything you're doing is very interesting" (Day 16)

The day got off to a bad start with a disappointing doughnut. I've not had much luck purchasing doughnuts abroad. The last time such a catastrophe occured I was in Tokyo, looking forward to tucking into my lovely Jam doughnut, only to find it was filled with a red kidney bean paste. Todays specimen was equally as revolting. It's easy to eat badly in Venice, unlike the rest of Italy where you can have a five star meal at the equivalent of a village shop.

Deciding not to let the incident ruin our day we headed to the Giardini, complete with a yummy packed lunch to make up for the failure of breakfast. If Venice is an exception to the rule of great food in Italy, then the Biennale is an exception to the rule of mediocre food in Venice. If I was to offer one tip it would be to NEVER eat from a Biennale cafe.

So with our spirits raised anticipating a fun day out we entered the Giardini. We were swiftly met with Thomas Hirschorn's shocking installation for the Swiss pavillion and realised the day in store was not going to be as rosy as expected. That's good though, art is supposed to provoke isn't it?

We progressed through Venezuela, Korea and Japan. Russia came as no great surprise but we thoroughly enjoyed the interactive performance work in the basement space. Infact as the day went on we noticed performance collectives were getting a good airing this year.

Germany had opted for a stuffed rabbit this time, instead of a stuffed cat. I'm still deciding what I think of this pavillion. Canada and Austria were a joy, both painting, as was the Nordic pavillion. I'm sure the spaces themselves contribute to the work produced. The Nordic pavillion is perpetually excellent, but seems to bring out a domestic theme.

Time for lunch. A much more satisfactory meal.

My prize for worst pavillion goes to Venice's Luis Vuitton exhibit, which was predictable and uninteresting. But enough of my grumbling, which I'm very good at, time to recommend some favourites...

As previously mentioned Austria (Markus Schinwald) was interesting and unexpected. I really enjoyed Christian Boltanski's effort for France and Australia (Hany Armanious) and Great Britain (Mike Nelson) are well worth a look. I probably spent the most time in the Israeli pavillion (Sigalit Landau) - some beautiful video work, playful, lighthearted and personally involving the audience, but with a serious message and hauntingly hummed soundtrack. Denmark was another triumph (or parts of it), especially Svankmajer's surrealist film.  

Again, as with the Arsenale, I was disappointed to see the artwork not being looked after as much as I would have expected. I know I've visited late in the festival, but I did expect higher standards. Greece and the USA were particular culprits of letting their artwork slip over time. The walls were scuffed and grubby and the invigilators were tired and uniterested, like sulking teenagers on a school trip to a gallery.

As we walked around we wondered as much about the pavillions as the artwork, how they have been adapted over the 54 years of the biennale. There must be at least 54 layers of paint on the walls. It means that every year the space gets that little bit smaller. We also realised how lucky we are that international art's language is predominantly English. All the artworks, if they were not made in the language in the first place, were definately translated into it, or had English subtitles. It made me feel a bit rubbish and vow to learn more Italian.

After six hours we had art-fatigue. Chicetti were on the cards again. If you make you're way up Strada Nuova and manage to resist McDonalds there is a lovely little bar down the side alley called Alla Vedova, expensive but perfect. After a few nibbles and small ombra we made our way to Al Ponte again for a few Proseccos. Uncharacteristically a fight broke out between two locals over each other's willingness to share their cigarettes. One of the culprits got knocked down, a girlfriend got involved and had to drag him home. "You're dead to me" shouted one. "I'm going to pee in your arse" replied the other (aparently this is an Italian insult). We had a friend who could understand the whole thing who lives in Italy translating for us.

So the end of an eventful day, I now feel like a tour guide and art critic all rolled into one! I'm knackered!