Macrame helicopters and melting octopus people

Yes folks ... We visited the Venice Biennale, the event in which the nations of the world create hundreds of exhibitions in an orgy of artistic handwringing. If you think this is going to be a Phillistine piece of anti Art writing, think again. At 25 € a pop we were determined to find something we enjoyed!

I'd heard Belgium was good but it was all about a post colonial dialogue between oft neglected sub cultural something or others. Anyway, it had a video installation and photos and stuff and it wasn't beautiful or wonderful so we bailed.

All in all, too many countries went for darkened rooms and video installations.

Our first bright spot was Australia. Fiona Hall had created an exhibition of amazing things out of twine, egg cartons, cardboard, sardine cans and old clocks. Much of it was wonderful and some of it was beautiful.

A menagerie of string and cloth 

and a macrame helicopter ...

Sardine-can ferns

By chance, we went into the Russian exhibition. It was spectacular but I can't say I understood it.

The Russian red and green room was an assault on the senses.

The Great Britain exhibition was "just rude" says Lyn, and I did wonder how the parents ahead of me were going to explain the cigarettes protruding from the sculptures to their young children. (Let me just say that no orifice was safe.) It did however have a melting octopus person on a chair sitting on a platform of Spam cans. 

Japan started cute and finished with the single most stunning thing we saw. Imagine two old boats amidst a cloud of red twine from which hang thousands of keys. Nope? Best look at the pictures.

The Canadians had a replica rural general store. We explored it and its store rooms before climbing its construction site roof and rolling coins down crazy paths to a hollow Perspex wall. Sounds odd but it was thoughtful and fun.

A single shelf in the store room at the back of the Canadian 'shop' had the Virgin with a basketball hat, Jesus with musical instrument, Fred Flintstone and a Bronze Age Mycenaean figurine with an athletic protector for a hat. Oh ... And an apple.

We were standing outside talking about the crazy Canadians when I heard a strange squeaking and rattling. Was that tree getting closer? Yep. A moving pine tree.

So - our scores:

1. Japan

2. Canada

3. Australia (but a very close third)

Russia and mysterious moving pine tree - mentioned in dispatches.

We decided that today was the day to buy a 1 day Vaporetto pass for unlimited travel on the ferries. This was expensive - but this is Venice. 

St Mark's Square from the Vaporetto.

After Lyn's traditional afternoon nap we caught the vaporetto to Accademia, Venice's main art gallery. We saw many important paintings but my favourite local painter is Bellini. I think I can now spot his soft focus Madonnas at will now. I also thought I was in Narnia for a moment.

Then we rode the vaporetto up and down the Grand Canal to get our money's worth. We walked home via La Fenice to work out how to get to the opera tomorrow night. Lyn tells me that tomorrow is to be art free and shopping rich. I can hardly wait.

They call me mellow cello

Yesterday evening we walked to the Church of San Vidal to watch these guys go baroque.

Interpreti Veneziani must be well sick of Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons' after playing it hundreds of times a year to tourists. Despite this they were excellent. (In the same way I suppose that juggling or tightrope walking remains a thrill for the observer even if it becomes workaday for the performer.) It must be a relief to do something different in the last half hour of the concert.

Signor Vianello was a dapper young man who seemed very good indeed. However, for me the cellist, Davide Amadeo (?) was the star. Let's face it, sitting with a cello between your legs is never going to be dignified, so he put on a show. He tossed his head, pulled faces and locked eyes with the lead violinist like he was Jimmy Page communing with Robert Plant. Great fun. Gianni Amadeo, the bassist, looked like Santa and seemed amused that nobody knew his Dragonetti tune so they didn't know when to clap. 

I'd turned off my phone for the performance because I live in terror that it will ring during a concert. Even though I knew I had turned it off, I felt a little queasy at the thought of of Primavera being interrupted by my current ringtone (the old USSR national anthem). Ring tone anxiety has to be a classic First World problem. 

The catch was that, after the concert, when I turned it on again to tell it to navigate us home in the dark, it asked for my Italian sim code! This was back in the apartment - so it was down to me. 15 minutes later it was obvious I had taken a wrong turn. This is not difficult. The calle of Venice are narrow alleyways. They look similar. Every so often you enter a tiny square with a well, church and statue or cross a bridge. The only sounds are revellers and singing gondoliers. Put into Venice at night, Theseus would still be looking for the Minotaur. I reverted to my fall back strategy. Many intersections have arrows to landmarks. Lyn saw a sign per Rialto. The Rialto Bridge was a couple of minutes from the apartment but at least I knew the way from there. We turned per Rialto, and there was Ponte Rialto, 15 metres away! I had no idea. I'd been walking northeast instead of East. We walked for two more minutes and were home.

To market to market...

We have just finished doing a lap of Venice. We began this morning at the Rialto markets looking at the fruit and seafood stalls. Then we traversed San Polo district with Lyn shopping all the way. At last she found the little handbag she'd been looking for but, despite what seemed like hours of searching and the encouragement of a flock of Americans, not a blouse or scarf.

The highlight of all this endeavour (for me) was the shared late breakfast panini, the takeaway pasta place where we had elevenses and the espresso I had for a pre-lunch pick me up. We crossed numerous pretty canals and got mildly lost.

How much is that doggie in the window?

My target was the I Frari church which had two Titians and a Bellini. There was also the spectacular tomb of Titian and the strange pyramidal funerary monument of Canova with a sad lion. It was a beautiful brick Gothic church. (A stone Gothic pile would have sunk San Polo.)

Didier Descouens

We came back by crossing into the Dorsoduro district and then crossing the beautiful wooden bridge over the Grand Canal called Ponte Dell'Accademia. 

We passed the church where Interpreti Veneziani perform concerts of baroque music every evening. We bought tickets for tonight because, incredibly, we hadn't heard any Vivaldi yet and this is his home town.

We traipsed through the Correr Museum in San Marco. Then it was home for a late lunch and a nap before our concert.

Blind Venetians

In 1204 the blind leader of the Venetian Republic, Doge Dandolo, hijacked a crusade headed to Egypt to capture Constantinople. This wasn't a case of guide dog malfunction, it just suited Venice. For centuries, Venice ruled the waves in the eastern Mediterranean and dominated northern Italy as well. In an age of kings and sultans, Venice was a republic. This afternoon we visited the centre of Venetian power, the Palazzo Ducale. It was a tribute to both Venetian shock and awe and the tedious checks and balances which prevented any single person or group from siezing control of the state.

There were state rooms and council chambers and archives and prisons and Titians and armouries. For centuries, Venice was about as romantic as a battleship. People didn't want to see Venice before they died, they feared that Venetians would kill them.

Grand Staircase, Mars, God of War on the left, Neptune, God of the Sea on the right, subtle.

Palazzo Ducale

The Golden Staircase leading to endless chambers with so much gold on their ceilings that their weight alone is causing Venice to sink.

Outside government offices the mouths of these heads led to chutes inside. Cîtizens could write notes denouncing their fellow citizens to the authorities and post them.

St Theodore killed this poor dragon. In an act of civic cynicism the Venetians decided St Teddy wasn't important enough and then stole the body of St Mark from Egypt to replace him. 

After our visit to the Palazzo Ducale we went in search of a bookshop for Lyn. We found books - and jewellery, scarves and handbags. Further shopping is clearly on the agenda. 

In our travels Lyn found the Church of San Salvador. It is a relatively humble place, only two Titians and a Bellini. Lyn made friends with a nice man selling postcards there to help pay for the maintenance of the church. Back in the day, when the Austrians were besieging Venice, a cannon ball hit the church. With nice sangfroid the locals left it there and inscribed the date.

Safely home we collected our washing and prepared to relax.

P.S. We are staying near a little shop called Tre Mercanti. It specialises in different versions of tiramisu. I confess this aspect of the Vevetian Republic has overwhelmed my defences.

In deep water

While we toured St Mark's Basilica this morning, St Mark's square began disappearing under water. This is the phenomenon known as the Aqua Alta.

The water comes bubbling up from the lagoon through the drains and recedes the same way. 

We joined a very long queue for the basilica this morning and chatted to the American couple behind us and the Canadian couple in front. The line moved quickly and we were soon inside. We had downloaded a good guided tour on my phone which did wonders of making sense of an amazing but overwhelming place. We saw the basilica, the Treasury, the Palia D'Oro (an altar screen made of gold, enamel and thousands of pearls, rubies and emeralds) and the museum. 

Upstairs from the internal balcony we had a great view of the church and from the external balcony we saw the square slowly disappearing below us.

Above the distinguished gentleman on the left are replicas of the bronze horses looted from Constantinople when the Venetians led the the 4th Crusade on a diversion to capture the greatest city in Christendom. I'd care more about this cultural vandalism if the Romans hadn't previously nicked them from the Greeks. At one point Napoleon nicked them from the Venetians. If there is a pattern to this then the horses should disappear again some time soon on a cruise ship.

The square below still had people but the ubiquitous pigeons joined us on higher ground.

As we exited the basilica the water was flooding the marble entrances and we left on raised walkways. Forget Tuvalu, what will happen to this incredible place in the next 50 years as the oceans rise?

Duelling Orchestras

In the Piazza San Marco there were 4 restaurants with orchestras playing everything from Viennese waltzes to tangos. Two were so close they had to take turns playing. The evening was beautiful and much less crowded than in the daylight. The only downside was the usual shysters trying to sell lights that can be catapulted into the air. These were no danger if ignored but there was some risk from the rose sellers who thrust roses into the face of every woman they saw.

This morning Lyn went to mass in Ognissanti and I watched fun runners and buskers and drank espresso.

Then we headed to the station and caught our fast train to Venice. We stumbled upon a political rally outside the train station and then tried to negotiate the waterbus system. Fîrst we were at the wrong wharf. Then we very nearly caught the right vaporetto (ferry) in the wrong direction. Eventually we worked it out, disembarked at Rialto and walked straight to the apartment. 

It is everything we need and the location is excellent. 

Not lost in Lucca

Lyn is always lost. Not "I think it might be this way" lost. We're talking Ludwig Leichhardt or Hansel and Gretel. She regularly points in the opposite direction to the correct one. Today she threatened to get lost on a circular path. I often suspect she is messing with me ... but no ...

Our Saturday excursion was to Lucca by train. We found the ticket machine easy to use and by 09.30 we were on our way. The trip was shared with hundreds of others with the same idea. 

It was gloriously sunny so we invested in sunscreen. Lucca still has the full circuit of its renaissance walls. The wall is now a 4.2 km treelined promenade. We walked about half the distance while I explained the intricacies of siege warfare and military fortifications to Lyn. She looked interested but she was thinking about shopping. 

Then we descended into the city. We found the piazza which was once a Roman amphitheater and now hosts numerous restaurants. We shared a great gelato and admired the facade of San Freddiano. Lyn went shopping. Stockings and earrings were purchased. 

Lucca's cathedral of San Martin doesn't need Lyn's photography to look lopsided. They recycled an earlier fortified tower into a bell tower. The end result is a bell tower with cathedral attached. The style of the facade is called "never use the same decorative pattern on a column twice". 

It is beautiful inside. Lyn prayed a lot and admired the way the sun sent the images of the rose windows onto the opposite walls.

San Martin supposedly was a soldier who cut his military cloak into pieces for the poor. In this sculpture there appears to be collateral damage.

We had an awesome set menu lunch at a cafe and then walked along the wall until I found the tower with trees growing on top. 

Then it was back to the station for the trip back to Florence. Tonight we walked to Ponte Vecchio for the buskers and patted Il Porcini for luck in Mercato Nuovo.