Adios Venice

One final walk in the rain....

Last Full Day in Venice

Off to the Palazzo Ducale (Doge's Palace). I was really glad I signed up for the Secret Itineraries tour. It was the most English I heard in days (1.5 hours worth!). Here is the courtyard prior to the tour where I waited on a bench with a yellow English sticker.



The golden hallway heading to the third floor which was divided into two levels (think Being John Malkovich's 7 1/2 floor in terms of claustrophobia). The tour guide opened a door and all of a sudden everything was made of wood and we were in the area where the equivalent of the Secret Service worked. It also was the location where the archives were once held of all the important event's in Venice's history filed under a system of paintings with the Doge's family coat of arms.



We also saw the "upscale" prisons where Cassonova was kept and where he escaped. The torture chamber was also on the agenda. All of this was located in the windows seen in the bottom portion of this photograph below.



After the tour, I wandered through the giant hallways filled with paintings from dozens of Venetian artists. The Veronese paintings were probably my favorites of the day ("probably" because I'm still a Tintoretto fan). I waited in line to take the elevator to the top of the crowded Campanile for some incredible views of Venice. San Giorgio Maggiore below.


If you look closely you can see Anish Kapoor's Ascension protruding from the church.




Piazzo San Marco - setting up for the Sting concert that would take place a couple days later.


I could watch the boat traffic all day. Questions that arose: is there AAA for boats? What happens when you run out gas? How do you pull over into the shoulder? How often to the police boats pull over speeders? How do you signal? Clearly I need boat training.




The crowded view facing S. Maria d. Salute. I realized this had photographic (i.e. Martin Parr) potential when I accidentally left the flash on.



While waiting to get to the perfect uncrowded view, I began to take photographs of other people blocking my way.







After the Campanile, I had every intention of hopping the vaporetto to Certosa to see the Rebel exhibition but for some unknown reason, the vaporetto service was operating on 1/4 capacity on a Friday in the height of tourist season (enter great annoyance that my 3-day pass became useless on the third day). I finished the day by walking to the Rialto Bridge through San Marco, back to the Arsenale to photography Julian Schnabel on a trashcan, and then Zattere to leave for Florence in the late morning.

Cakes, Faux Sharpie Tattoos and Cats

Amelia rocking the lemon yogurt birthday cake, dual nationality tattoo, and cat beach towel.

A Hand Painted Original at a Diner in Honor, Michigan

A Brief Pause in My Erratic Italy Postings...

... for a quick camping trip to Michigan. Taking advantage of the last days of my summer.


Sleeping Bear Dunes, Michigan

Venice: Clear Water Sample & Postcard Float

I obtained a "clear" water sample in front of the Palazzo Zenobio (the Armenian and Iceland Pavilions were located here) because it was very easy to reach the water which I had avoided touching at all costs prior to this moment. Out came the bright green gloves and the vial Nate Larson gave me.



There are now three preconceived notions I have had in life that continue to strike me as astounding how wrong I was before trying them: 1) swim caps keep your hair dry when lap swimming (wrong), 2) snowshoes enable you to glide effortlessly on top of the snow (wrong), and 3) when you acquire a sample of ugly, disgusting water, it should look ugly and disgusting - not clear (wrong).



As the sample ever so surprisingly looked transparent (and this was my best opportunity to float something within very close range of the Biennale), out came my a postcard. I chose Barton Springs for the obvious reason of matching monochromes.



... and it nosedived so quickly to the bottom of the canal that I barely had time to take a photograph of it (yes, that's it looking like a condom in the middle). I was disappointed! All my tests floated so well. My main conclusion that the only thing I could do was try again and it would be on the canal on the island of Certosa in front of the Rebel exhibition that was actually showing Ed Ruscha's artwork.

Anselm Kiefer's "Salt of the Earth" and "Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow"

I'm very excited about the new documentary on Anselm Kiefer as my love for Kiefer's artwork rivals that of Ed Ruscha's. In the NY Times: "The idea for a film arose when Mr. Kiefer, eager for someone to document the mysterious universe he had created, invited Ms. Fiennes to visit Barjac. “It was a completely kind of mad and disorientating labyrinth,” Ms. Fiennes, 44, said over tea in the living room of a friend’s apartment here. She wandered the grounds, navigating tunnels illuminated with skylights or single bulbs, discovering a crypt and an amphitheater and a patch of land scattered with concrete towers inspired by the biblical story of Lilith that resemble modern ruins. “I was amazed,” she said. “There is an inherent theatricality or cinematic quality to what he’s made there that leant itself to filmmaking.”



One of my favorite exhibitions at the Venice Biennale was Kiefer's Salt of the Earth. It was located in the Fondazione Emilio e Annabianca Vedova, an old Venetian salt storage facility built in the 15th century.

From the press release: "...consisting of a structure in which are hung photographs of landscapes on sheets of lead submitted to a process of electrolysis that has covered them in a green patina: a colour underlying hope and announcing the union of opposites."


From the front.


From the back.


Two details from the middle.



These are the photographs I came back still thinking about. These are the photographs I once longed to make.

Venice Day 3: More Art (New and Old)

I woke up at 8 AM (!!) with sun streaming through the crack in the curtain. Last night a bat was flying around the courtyard and two lizards were climbing the walls. After another hotel breakfast, I went straight to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection which was showing Ileana Sonnabend: The Italian Portrait. Some highlights:


Jeff Koons, Buster Keaton


Robert Rauschenberg, Untitled (Venetian)



Arman, Portrait of Mike


Andrea Robbins and Max Becher, Venice, Las Vegas #3

Highlights from the Permanent Collection:



• Giacomo Balla's Mercury Passing Before the Sun


• and my most coveted object in the entire museum was Yves Tanguy's (my favorite Surrealist) earrings for Peggy Guggenheim made in 1938.


The view of the Grand Canal from the sculpture garden was equally incredible. I've deduced I can watch how traffic moves (and what kind of boats - UPS, police, armored bank boats, gondolas, water taxis, etc.) in the canal indefinitely.

[One more I'm going to be so tired of these mozzarella and tomato paninis for lunch if I have to eat too many more of them before I return.]

The Venice in Venice exhibition was a big let down mainly because of the space. Why? It's location in the Palazzo Contraini dagli Scrigni was less than ideal for many reasons. The artwork represented (Robert Irwin, Ed Kienholz, etc.) was mainly from the 1960s-70s which did not go well with centuries old decor. A Kienholz bathtub sculpture surrounded by wallpaper and furniture 300 years old, did nothing to separate the artwork from the location. I learned that when I am overwhelmed with so much artwork, I start to concentrate on presentation and this one clearly failed. The view outside the window looking toward the Grand Canal was really nice however.

The Cyprus Pavilion with Elizabeth Hoak-Doering's schizophrenic, moving furniture pieces as kinetic sculptures to make drawings held my attention for quite some time. This table proved to be the most effective mark maker though I was vying for the mattress but it didn't move around as much and the drawing was more static.



I was enamored with this presentation by Galim Madinov and Zauresh Terekby in the Central Asia pavilion. Here are 250 paintings displayed as if they are books - I love the overlap, the sheer amount, and the objectification of the flat object.



Two of my favorite paintings spotted out of the corner of my eye at the Contini Gallery (unfortunately I can't find the name of the artist on their website!).





Next up... OLD (1575-1581) artwork: the Tintorettos at Scuola Grande of Saint Roch where I couldn't take any photographs but it looks just like this (via):



I spent a great deal of time wishing I had a roving mattress underneath the ceiling so I could view the artwork better. The stationary mirrors placed sporadically throughout the space were not up to par. It was my first introduction to (gasp) liking Renaissance art! The only disappointment was the (yet more) scaffolding that covered 1/2 of The Last Supper. The light was also very poor in some areas of the Upper Hall.

Next up Anish Kapoor's Ascension on the island of San Giorgio. Waiting for the steam to rise was like watching for Old Faithful. I gave it 30 minutes but it never happened and I even stuck my head in one more time thirty minutes later to no avail. The next two images are examples of all the postcards by the front door of what the piece was supposed to look like:





When in actuality, it was doing this (nothing):



My mind drifted to the space as I was waiting and I couldn't help but wonder if the steam from Kapoor's piece would harm the artwork in the church but that doesn't seem to be that big of an issue in Venice.

The last exhibition of the day was Real Venice, a fundraising project of the charity Venice in Peril. Fourteen photographers were asked to make images based on their experiences in Venice, Italy and donate a print.



This Nan Goldin photograph, Leonardo with his Grandfather, Palazzo Papadopoli, held my attention because I've been spending my days constantly wondering about how rich this city once was versus it's current state. Here lies a boy posing in front of his well-off grandfather in a different time, yet the same social class.

Coming soon... my feeble attempt to float some postcards in Venice.

Money in the Curtains in Venice, Italy

Venice Biennale at the Arsenale

I am becoming especially adept at getting lost in Venice. It was a very long walk over to the Arsenale from the Giardini keeping this fact in mind. Everything I read about the Italian Pavilion was true - it was awful, overwhelming, and too much exhibited in once space to focus on anything. I tried and failed. One of the highlights of the Corderie/Artiglierie was the location. It featured old and new machinery from the old shipyard and was right next to the lagoon. A highlight were the remains from the GELITIN performance that took place the opening week of the biennial.



I devoted 1:50 - 2:50 PM to Christina Marclay's The Clock and it lived up to every moment of the hype. I could have spent a couple more hours in front of this video but needed to see the rest of the exhibitions as my ticket was only good for that day. The sheer amount of clocks, references to passing time, and reintroducing clips from the same movie so they appear in real time (in just the hour I saw) was incredible! I couldn't look at a watch on a person's arm the same way again for the rest of the day. Another reason why I loved this video is that I'm guaranteed never to see it in its entirety so I'll always wonder what took place in the hours I couldn't view. My phone never reverted to Italian time, so I've been spending my days adding six hours to whatever time it says. Walking into The Clock and knowing exactly what time it was, was reassuring. There were 12 white Ikea couches constantly rotating with people. Here is an image from Manfredi Bellati of the installation:



Urs Fischer's wax sculptures were also one of my favorite pieces to see this day. This is what his self-portrait looked like 1.5 months into the exhibition (here's to wondering how long it will continue to burn as the Biennale is up through November and it was 2/3rds of the way through in July).



The one thing I was annoyed with is how his head fell in such a "placed" position compared to all the other parts of his body. I know full well that this was arranged by someone to show that it indeed was a person's lifelike figure at one point but it was slightly insulting to view in that format.



This is what the sculpture looked near the opening:




Here is the large Untitled sculpture that looked like it went through violent destruction before my arrival:



Before:


[Both early Urs Fischer images via.]

I also enjoyed Jean-Luc Mylayne's bird photographs and had to show two images in one since the reflections were hard to contend with.



Unfortunately, there was no place to float postcards ANYWHERE in the vicinity of the Giardini or the Arsenale. That is my job to find tomorrow. There are plenty of exhibitions associated with the Biennale throughout the city. I will have to find the place.



Venice at night (twice) near the Arsenale.