There are many possible reasons for a trip to Venice. It is a totally unique place, and it has many attractions. Yet any reason one might give for a visit to this city can be attributed to some sort of longing. Further, I believe that longing, whatever one might say they long for, can be pared down and defined as a longing for association, identification, and/or authentication. For example, Venice is perhaps most commonly identified with the Renaissance. Significant Venetian Renaissance artists included Bellini, Giorgione, Tintoretto, Titian and Veronese, among many others. Although he was not from Venice, Leonardo da Vinci famously visited (fled to) the city in 1499. The art aficionado visiting Venice does not come merely to see great artwork; he or she comes to see artwork by “the greats,” and thus to be, in however small a way, associated with them.
A lover of music will find numerous options in Venice. String quartets perform all day in the Piazza San Marco. Vivaldi concerts and operas take place constantly; it’s nearly impossible to walk in the city without passing a sign or being handed a flyer by someone in costume. As I write this, there is a multi-story advertisement covering scaffolding along the Doge’s Palace; Venezia: The Story of Venice, a “unique and entertaining show,” is performed every day at the Teatro San Gallo. (It’s performed in English, with audio guides in seven languages.) For those interested in the history of music, they can visit the Basilica di San Marco, whose great size and two separate choir lofts necessitated the invention of an entirely new style of music: Venetian polychoral style. Few know the name of Adrian Willaert, the maestro di capella who made the Venetian polychoral style famous, but they recognize Venice as a place of innovation and genius, and they wish to identify with it.
For anyone with an interest in architecture, Venice offers a chance to view almost every style from a single spot in the city. From the Piazza San Marco, it is possible to look upon and appreciate the Byzantine Basilica di San Marco, the gothic Doge’s Palace, and Sansovino’s Renaissance Loggetta, then across the lagoon there is Palladio’s conservative church of San Giorgio Maggiore contrasted with the nearby baroque cathedral Santa Maria della Salute. Elsewhere there is neoclassical and rococo, and practically anything else one might wish to find, even a pair of really horrible camels on another baroque church, San Moise. When one reports seeing these buildings, or sends postcards bearing their images, they are also claiming, however subtly, to have absorbed from them some knowledge, perhaps even some part of their creators.
Venice has much to offer even outside of the realm of the arts. Long before it was a member of the Italian Republic, it was “La Serenissima,” The Most Serene Republic of Venice. Its democracy served as a model for the United States. Although history has exposed Venice as something other than a prefect utopia, that is the idea which was created for it and which it embraced. Add to that the overabundance of churches- add faith to liberty and justice- and Venice is perceived as a land of high morals as well as superior education and talent.
Even those who come to Venice not to analyze, but only to appreciate and enjoy, come for identification. Any place in the world may be enjoyed, but Venice is a destination. As a tourist attraction, it serves, as we have discussed before, as a heterotopic space, much like Disneyland. It is a place of carnevale, even when it is not the time of carnevale. One of the peculiarities of Venice is that it can exist simultaneously as a place for very high society, high morals and ideals, and also a proscribed space of debauchery. This is due, in part, to such figures as Casanova and Lord Byron, but also to the nature of Venice itself, which has always hidden a darker side behind its bright marble facade. For tourists seeking that side, Venice is an outlet- like Las Vegas or many spring break destinations- and a place of freedom in many senses of the word. Venice is also a place of novelty, of perceived scarcity. One must see Venice before it sinks, or before all of the other tourists ruin it forever! Merely the ability to say one has seen Venice provides social capital; the visitor, upon their return to reality, is vested with knowledge everything their less fortunate friends and family associate with the city.
Of course, in today’s society, declarations of such magnitude are of little worth without some form of proof. Or, as Susan Stewart put it in On Longing, “Within the development of culture under an exchange economy, the search for authentic experience and, correlatively, the search for the authentic object become critical.” As previously discussed, there is no set single “real” Venice, or at the very least it is indefinable. However, there do seem to be certain things one must see and do in order for their visit to Venice to “count.” Enter the souvenir. People don’t buy miniature gondolas (or gondola switchblades) because they value the thing for itself. “The souvenir... authenticates the experience of the viewer.” One buys a carnevale mask in Venice not because they plan to wear it at home, but so that they can display it; it will be a conversation piece, the thing that gives them an opening to discuss their journey and their experiences. “The souvenir is by definition always incomplete. It will not function without the supplementary narrative discourse that both attaches it to its origins and creates a myth with regard to those origins. What is this narrative of origins? It is a narrative of interiority and authenticity. It is not a narrative of the object; it is a narrative of the possessor. The souvenir as bibelot or curiosity has little if any value attached to its materiality. Furthermore, the souvenir is often attached to locations and experiences that are not for sale. The substituting power of the souvenir operates within the following analogy: as experience is to an imagined point of authenticity, so narrative is to the souvenir. The souvenir displaces the point of authenticity as it itself becomes the point of origin for narrative. Such a narrative cannot be generalized to encompass the experience of anyone; it pertains only to the possessor of the object.”
Stewart has much to say about postcards as well. In all honesty, it makes little sense to buy them. Their images are most often images one could (and probably does) reproduce for themselves. The space on the opposite is really inadequate for writing if you have much to say; it’s far inferior to a letter and can hardly be compared to any form of communication utilizing the internet. And yet people continue to send them, because it is not the message, but the postcard itself that is significant. “The other's reception of the postcard is the receipt, the ticket stub, that validates the experience of the site, which we now can name as the site of the subject himself or herself.”
To be fair, though, it is not only the visitors to Venice who experience longing. Venice is not only an object of longing, but a subject. Earlier in its history, Venice longed for power and recognition, much of which it received. It longed to be identified as the new Rome, to the point that Venetians looted Constantinople and proudly displayed part of their plunder, four bronze horses stolen from the Hippodrome, on the Basilica di San Marco. On the facade of another church, Santa Maria del Giglio, there are bas reliefs depicting cities under Venetian rule. Rome is arrogantly included as well.
Today, Venice is no longer a major power and is no longer aspires to anything so grand. Instead, it is lost in nostalgia. If its past glory cannot be reclaimed, it longs only to continue. Venice refuses to die, and it refuses to become a museum city, which is akin to death. Although I was not aware of it at the time, the mock funeral I witnessed last weekend may have been the most poignant display of longing Venice has to offer.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Death of Venice
Today I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I had just boarded a vaporetto near the Rialto Bridge when all traffic through the Grand Canal was stopped. I didn't know what was going on at the time, but it looked interesting, so I took a quick video and some pictures. Oddly enough, when I logged onto my computer later, Yahoo news had the story: link
If I didn't know better, I'd say this procession was planned as part of our class; it goes along so well with many of our discussions. Is Venice just a tourist attraction, a museum city, a simulacra? Absolutely not; here's a little more proof of the "real" Venice that's still hanging on.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Scioperi
As described in my previous blog entry, last Sunday’s visit to Pisa was changed from a quick trip to an epic adventure due to a train strike. There were no trains running between Florence and Pisa, so we were forced to buses (from Florence to Lucca and Lucca to Pisa) instead. Further, there were no trains running between Pisa and Venice, so we had to back to Florence, first stopping and buying another bus ticket in Lucca because for some reason we couldn’t purchase a ticket for the full trip as we had on the way there, and then get a train from there. It made for a good story, but it was also an incredibly hectic, stressful day.
Our Italian professor, Paolo Venerando, told us that “sciopero,” meaning “strike,” is one of the most commonly used words in the Italian vocabulary. Kathy McCabe wrote in her blog, “Italy wouldn't be Italy without strikes (scioperi).” link
Those may be exaggerations, but strikes certainly do seem to be a common experience. There are numerous articles and travel blogs online warning and complaining of strikes, and I personally have experienced two so far. The first was a general transportation strike, which affected everything from vaporetti to airplanes, but I personally wasn’t very inconvenienced by it because I remained in Venice, and the San Servolo vaporetto, the only one I absolutely need, continued to run on schedule. The second was only a train strike, so it undoubtedly affected fewer people overall, but since I was traveling and had planned to rely on trains, it caused me more problems.
In both cases, however, I was able to successfully work around the strikes. This is due, in part, to the curious nature of the Italian sciopero. Transportation strikes follow a certain set of rules. First, strikes are planned and announced in advance. Deirdré Staughan wrote in her blog that “the threat usually brings management to the bargaining table.” link It also helps out the people who need to use the transportation. Our guide here in Venice, Francesca Furlanis, sent an email warning us about the first, and our hostel in Florence posted a warning about the second in the lobby, so both times it was possible to plan ahead. Second, strikes are scheduled for a set amount of time. For example, the train strike was set to end at 9:00 pm, so we knew that we would at least be able to get a train to Venice after 9:00, if not sooner. Third, no matter who happens to be striking, whether it’s a single union, one mode of transportation, or even all of them, there are still always options. When we couldn’t use trains, we took buses instead. While one union is striking, another might not be. Also, concessions are made for commuters who still have to go to work regardless of transportation strikes. Vaporetti, trains, and buses may still run as scheduled in the morning and evening for these people. Also, in Venice, a reprieve is given to people who may otherwise be stranded on outlying islands; the San Servolo vaporetto, for example, ran on schedule all day during the strike.
In an earlier blog post, this one, I mentioned the first strike, but didn’t give it very much attention because it was not a big deal. Later, when writing about the experience in my travel journal, I questioned the effectiveness of the strikes. Even after the Pisa adventure, they don’t strike (pun intended) me as particularly drastic. It seems that those most affected by the strikes are the few people who must continue to work in spite of them and tourists. In fact, the other members of the Pisa group and I must have appeared to know what we were doing, because we kept being approached by other English speakers who were desperate for information. Staughan says, “Strikers at least do not cause trouble beyond the inconvenience caused by lack of their services.”
Something else I would like to know is the cause for the strikes, but I have been unable to find that information. Italians seem to have the same problem, and Staughan wrote, “One of my long-standing complaints about Italian strikes is that, while we usually have plenty of warning that they are about to happen, it's rarely made clear to the public what the strike is about.” I assume the goals of the unions are the usual sort: better pay and benefits, or overturning unfair legislation. The best thing to do at this point is probably to do as the Italians do and just take the strikes in stride.
Perhaps more problematic than strikes are protests and demonstrations. I have only witnessed one demonstration, in Florence, and it was only a march which didn’t really disrupt anything, but according to Staughan, “Protesters, on the other hand, go to great lengths to bring attention to their cause, and don't care what innocent bystander gets caught up in it.” The demonstrators I saw, shown here in this video, seemed to be trying to win support for a fascist group. Odd as that may seem, Paolo told us that many people today are looking back and believe there was much good in fascism, and that, if done right, it could be a favorable form of government.
I don’t pretend to understand Italian politics. I have only lived here for a little over a month, and I knew almost nothing about this country before hand. However, it seems to me that the abundance of strikes and demonstrations speaks to a country that is still very much a work in progress. Italy is still a young country. No one thinks of that, I think, because we identify Italy with something ancient, the Roman Empire, but the Italian Republic was not formed until 1946. Also, although Italy was one of the founding members of the European Union, Italians still do not quite identify with the rest of Europe. This is exemplified well in a cartoon Paolo suggested we watch: Europe and Italy. In short, Italy is not an especially tumultuous country, nor are “strikers... largely concerned... with a very narrow self-interest” as Staughan suggests, there are just some things the country needs to work out.
Our Italian professor, Paolo Venerando, told us that “sciopero,” meaning “strike,” is one of the most commonly used words in the Italian vocabulary. Kathy McCabe wrote in her blog, “Italy wouldn't be Italy without strikes (scioperi).” link
Those may be exaggerations, but strikes certainly do seem to be a common experience. There are numerous articles and travel blogs online warning and complaining of strikes, and I personally have experienced two so far. The first was a general transportation strike, which affected everything from vaporetti to airplanes, but I personally wasn’t very inconvenienced by it because I remained in Venice, and the San Servolo vaporetto, the only one I absolutely need, continued to run on schedule. The second was only a train strike, so it undoubtedly affected fewer people overall, but since I was traveling and had planned to rely on trains, it caused me more problems.In both cases, however, I was able to successfully work around the strikes. This is due, in part, to the curious nature of the Italian sciopero. Transportation strikes follow a certain set of rules. First, strikes are planned and announced in advance. Deirdré Staughan wrote in her blog that “the threat usually brings management to the bargaining table.” link It also helps out the people who need to use the transportation. Our guide here in Venice, Francesca Furlanis, sent an email warning us about the first, and our hostel in Florence posted a warning about the second in the lobby, so both times it was possible to plan ahead. Second, strikes are scheduled for a set amount of time. For example, the train strike was set to end at 9:00 pm, so we knew that we would at least be able to get a train to Venice after 9:00, if not sooner. Third, no matter who happens to be striking, whether it’s a single union, one mode of transportation, or even all of them, there are still always options. When we couldn’t use trains, we took buses instead. While one union is striking, another might not be. Also, concessions are made for commuters who still have to go to work regardless of transportation strikes. Vaporetti, trains, and buses may still run as scheduled in the morning and evening for these people. Also, in Venice, a reprieve is given to people who may otherwise be stranded on outlying islands; the San Servolo vaporetto, for example, ran on schedule all day during the strike.
In an earlier blog post, this one, I mentioned the first strike, but didn’t give it very much attention because it was not a big deal. Later, when writing about the experience in my travel journal, I questioned the effectiveness of the strikes. Even after the Pisa adventure, they don’t strike (pun intended) me as particularly drastic. It seems that those most affected by the strikes are the few people who must continue to work in spite of them and tourists. In fact, the other members of the Pisa group and I must have appeared to know what we were doing, because we kept being approached by other English speakers who were desperate for information. Staughan says, “Strikers at least do not cause trouble beyond the inconvenience caused by lack of their services.”Something else I would like to know is the cause for the strikes, but I have been unable to find that information. Italians seem to have the same problem, and Staughan wrote, “One of my long-standing complaints about Italian strikes is that, while we usually have plenty of warning that they are about to happen, it's rarely made clear to the public what the strike is about.” I assume the goals of the unions are the usual sort: better pay and benefits, or overturning unfair legislation. The best thing to do at this point is probably to do as the Italians do and just take the strikes in stride.
Perhaps more problematic than strikes are protests and demonstrations. I have only witnessed one demonstration, in Florence, and it was only a march which didn’t really disrupt anything, but according to Staughan, “Protesters, on the other hand, go to great lengths to bring attention to their cause, and don't care what innocent bystander gets caught up in it.” The demonstrators I saw, shown here in this video, seemed to be trying to win support for a fascist group. Odd as that may seem, Paolo told us that many people today are looking back and believe there was much good in fascism, and that, if done right, it could be a favorable form of government.
I don’t pretend to understand Italian politics. I have only lived here for a little over a month, and I knew almost nothing about this country before hand. However, it seems to me that the abundance of strikes and demonstrations speaks to a country that is still very much a work in progress. Italy is still a young country. No one thinks of that, I think, because we identify Italy with something ancient, the Roman Empire, but the Italian Republic was not formed until 1946. Also, although Italy was one of the founding members of the European Union, Italians still do not quite identify with the rest of Europe. This is exemplified well in a cartoon Paolo suggested we watch: Europe and Italy. In short, Italy is not an especially tumultuous country, nor are “strikers... largely concerned... with a very narrow self-interest” as Staughan suggests, there are just some things the country needs to work out.
Weekend in Tuscany Part Three: Pisa
Video
After Florence, the plan was to go to Pisa, just long enough to see the leaning tower and perhaps a couple of other things, then return to Venice from there. It was a good plan. Unfortunately, when we returned to the hostel Saturday evening, we discovered a sign posted, warning of a train strike the next day. When we went to the train station in the morning, no one was working at the ticket windows. We all have Eurail passes, but for some reason it was necessary to make a reservation for the trip between Venice and Florence. I’m not sure if we couldn’t make a reservation for the return trip in Venice or if we just didn’t think of it at the time, but now there was no way to do so. To complicate matters, there was no way of knowing for sure which of the regional trains would run as scheduled and which would be canceled. There were no trains between Florence and Pisa or Pisa and Venice. This was enough to deter two members of our group; they booked the first train back to Venice and went straight there. Perhaps they were the smart ones. The remaining four of us exhibited typical American stubbornness: we had planned to visit Pisa and we were going to do it. This was easier said than done. The train people said there were no trains, only buses, and the bus people said there were only trains. We went back and forth for awhile until we finally found a different bus place. For €6,10 we bought bus tickets to Pisa. We would have to change buses in Lucca, but still, that part was fairly easy. The bus ride was long, and except for a bout with motion sickness, not unpleasant. Tuscany has some great scenery.
Once we reached Pisa, however, things became a little more complicated. First, we couldn’t buy a bus ticket straight to Florence. We would have to go to Lucca again and buy a ticket for the second leg of the trip there. Second, buses ran every hour up to 3:45, then the next one would be at 5:00. Considering the length of the trip, we would have to be on the 3:45 bus in order to reach Venice before the last vaporetto to San Servolo, and that was assuming we would be able to get a train once we returned to Florence. We had very little time in Pisa. We walked straight to the tower, fighting light rain and gusts of wind that made it difficult to use umbrellas. The worst part was when we had to cross a bridge; with no buildings to block the wind, we were nearly blown over. We reached the tower, bought tickets to go inside, and stored our bags and umbrellas in lockers, and by the time we got back outside, it was pouring.
We ran to the tower. We had a roof over our heads as we climbed the steps, but the wind howled down the spiral staircase and rain got in from the top and through the windows. The climb was slippery, and half the time it seemed as if the tower might finally topple over. When we reached the top, there was no more roof. We took pictures in driving rain while the wind threatened to blow us over or at least sweep away our cameras, glasses, scarves, or what have you. Our umbrellas were far away in lockers, but they wouldn’t have done us any good. We weren’t allowed to go all the way around the tower; there was a danger someone would fall off, despite the railing. Finally, police came up to kick everyone off. We were the last group that got the climb the tower.
After that, we ran to the duomo, looked around for a couple of minutes, then ran outside to pose for pictures with the tower in the background. We had wanted some typical tourist photos, posing as if we were holding the tower up and whatnot, but no one was inclined to linger long enough for anything fancy in that rain. After that, we ran to the gift shop and quickly purchased souvenirs, and then we ran back to collect our bags. By then we had about half an hour to reach the bus station. We were already thoroughly drenched, but we didn’t want to try walking back in that rain and decided to take a taxi instead. We ducked into a hotel, and the man at the desk was kind enough to call us a cab and let us use the bathroom while we waited. The ride in the taxi was terrifying, and I have no idea how the driver managed to avoid killing someone, but we reached the bus station with time to spare.
An hour or so later, we had dried out a little but were still wet and cold, and we arrived in Lucca. Purchasing a ticket to Florence was no problem, but we had about an hour to wait. We found our way, still walking in rain, which had lessened but never stopped, to a small cafe. Because of the time constraints in Pisa, we hadn’t eaten lunch, so we were starving. We were also freezing. As a result, the warm sandwiches we bought tasted absolutely incredible. We lingered in the cafe, drying and thawing, then braved the weather again to go back and wait for our bus. On the way to Florence, we were able to hang up our jackets and take off our wet shoes, and the bus was wonderfully warm.
In Florence, we were lucky enough to find a train to Venice. It was expensive, since we couldn’t use our Eurail passes, but it would get us back in time. We had a while to wait, so we were able to help out some confused Australian tourists and get a snack at McDonald’s. After we boarded the train, the worst was behind us, but the journey would not be over when we reached Venice. Once there, we still needed to take a vaporetto from the train station to San Zaccaria, and then one from there to San Servolo. Although the strike was scheduled to end at 9:00, we were still worried it might affect the vaporetto schedules. Luckily, they were running as usual and we finally made it back to our island home away from home around 1:00 in the morning. Dry clothes have never felt so good.
After Florence, the plan was to go to Pisa, just long enough to see the leaning tower and perhaps a couple of other things, then return to Venice from there. It was a good plan. Unfortunately, when we returned to the hostel Saturday evening, we discovered a sign posted, warning of a train strike the next day. When we went to the train station in the morning, no one was working at the ticket windows. We all have Eurail passes, but for some reason it was necessary to make a reservation for the trip between Venice and Florence. I’m not sure if we couldn’t make a reservation for the return trip in Venice or if we just didn’t think of it at the time, but now there was no way to do so. To complicate matters, there was no way of knowing for sure which of the regional trains would run as scheduled and which would be canceled. There were no trains between Florence and Pisa or Pisa and Venice. This was enough to deter two members of our group; they booked the first train back to Venice and went straight there. Perhaps they were the smart ones. The remaining four of us exhibited typical American stubbornness: we had planned to visit Pisa and we were going to do it. This was easier said than done. The train people said there were no trains, only buses, and the bus people said there were only trains. We went back and forth for awhile until we finally found a different bus place. For €6,10 we bought bus tickets to Pisa. We would have to change buses in Lucca, but still, that part was fairly easy. The bus ride was long, and except for a bout with motion sickness, not unpleasant. Tuscany has some great scenery.
Once we reached Pisa, however, things became a little more complicated. First, we couldn’t buy a bus ticket straight to Florence. We would have to go to Lucca again and buy a ticket for the second leg of the trip there. Second, buses ran every hour up to 3:45, then the next one would be at 5:00. Considering the length of the trip, we would have to be on the 3:45 bus in order to reach Venice before the last vaporetto to San Servolo, and that was assuming we would be able to get a train once we returned to Florence. We had very little time in Pisa. We walked straight to the tower, fighting light rain and gusts of wind that made it difficult to use umbrellas. The worst part was when we had to cross a bridge; with no buildings to block the wind, we were nearly blown over. We reached the tower, bought tickets to go inside, and stored our bags and umbrellas in lockers, and by the time we got back outside, it was pouring.
We ran to the tower. We had a roof over our heads as we climbed the steps, but the wind howled down the spiral staircase and rain got in from the top and through the windows. The climb was slippery, and half the time it seemed as if the tower might finally topple over. When we reached the top, there was no more roof. We took pictures in driving rain while the wind threatened to blow us over or at least sweep away our cameras, glasses, scarves, or what have you. Our umbrellas were far away in lockers, but they wouldn’t have done us any good. We weren’t allowed to go all the way around the tower; there was a danger someone would fall off, despite the railing. Finally, police came up to kick everyone off. We were the last group that got the climb the tower.
After that, we ran to the duomo, looked around for a couple of minutes, then ran outside to pose for pictures with the tower in the background. We had wanted some typical tourist photos, posing as if we were holding the tower up and whatnot, but no one was inclined to linger long enough for anything fancy in that rain. After that, we ran to the gift shop and quickly purchased souvenirs, and then we ran back to collect our bags. By then we had about half an hour to reach the bus station. We were already thoroughly drenched, but we didn’t want to try walking back in that rain and decided to take a taxi instead. We ducked into a hotel, and the man at the desk was kind enough to call us a cab and let us use the bathroom while we waited. The ride in the taxi was terrifying, and I have no idea how the driver managed to avoid killing someone, but we reached the bus station with time to spare.
An hour or so later, we had dried out a little but were still wet and cold, and we arrived in Lucca. Purchasing a ticket to Florence was no problem, but we had about an hour to wait. We found our way, still walking in rain, which had lessened but never stopped, to a small cafe. Because of the time constraints in Pisa, we hadn’t eaten lunch, so we were starving. We were also freezing. As a result, the warm sandwiches we bought tasted absolutely incredible. We lingered in the cafe, drying and thawing, then braved the weather again to go back and wait for our bus. On the way to Florence, we were able to hang up our jackets and take off our wet shoes, and the bus was wonderfully warm.
In Florence, we were lucky enough to find a train to Venice. It was expensive, since we couldn’t use our Eurail passes, but it would get us back in time. We had a while to wait, so we were able to help out some confused Australian tourists and get a snack at McDonald’s. After we boarded the train, the worst was behind us, but the journey would not be over when we reached Venice. Once there, we still needed to take a vaporetto from the train station to San Zaccaria, and then one from there to San Servolo. Although the strike was scheduled to end at 9:00, we were still worried it might affect the vaporetto schedules. Luckily, they were running as usual and we finally made it back to our island home away from home around 1:00 in the morning. Dry clothes have never felt so good.
Weekend in Tuscany Part Two: Firenze
We arrived in Florence (Firenze in Italian) early in the evening, and after we checked into our hostel, we still had some time before the tourist attractions began to close. We decided that the best choice for that evening would be to go to the Accademia to see Michaelangelo's David. It's the off-season, and since it was late in the day, we didn't expect much of a line. There was no line, in fact. Once we passed through the security checkpoint, we just strolled up to the window and bought our tickets. They were more expensive than we expected, €10,00 instead of €6,50, because there was a special exhibition. That turned out to be mostly photos of naked people in weird poses. I continue to be unimpressed with modern art. The David was quite a bit more impressive; there's a reason he's the thing to see in Florence. The statue is huge and incredibly detailed. He has his sling over his shoulder, rock in hand, and a look of determination in his eyes, all carved in white marble. It's forbidden to take pictures in the Accademia, so I wasn't able to get a picture of the real David, but the following day we found two replicas elsewhere in the city.
The top one is in The David's original location in front of the Palazzo Vecchio. The second is in the Piazzale Michaelangelo.
The Accademia also has a large collection of plaster models and medieval art, among many other pieces. Also on display, temporarily, I believe, was what was once a private collection of Russian icon paintings. That's exactly the kind of thing Russians hate; those don't belong in Italy, especially considering that Italy has so much artwork of its own. Sadly, I think we're all starting to get tired of it.
After the Accademia and a bit of exploring, we returned to our hostel, Plus Florence, and headed downstairs to make use of the free drink coupons we had been given. I still don't care much for wine, but I suppose it's the thought that counts. Along with drinks, there was dancing, foosball, and pool. I was the only one of our group who played pool. A busload of Australians and New Zealanders were monopolizing the tables, but I managed to get in on a game. Since I had no partner, I got to play with one of the Australians, Damian. It was a good thing, too; I haven't played pool in ages, so I needed someone to help me out. We ended up winning, somehow. I think I held my own because I had quite a bit less to drink than the others. The frequent Star Wars themed pep talks and the excessive high fives Damian gave may have helped as well.
Since there were six of us and we're poor students, we booked a seven person room for about €15 a night, and we ended up with an Australian roommate, who was not with the bus group. Apparently, Australians are travel-crazy. We keep meeting them everywhere. Many American students dream of taking a year off after college to travel, but it seems like that's common practice, almost expected, for Australians. Anyway, our roommate, Ben, was pretty cool. He went to dinner with us Saturday night.
Saturday during the day, we did quite a bit more exploring. Florence is bigger and much more of a tourist city than Siena. We got an early start, so for awhile we had the sidewalks mostly to ourselves, but as the day went on the shops, sidewalks, and tourist attractions became more and more crowded. Still, I don't think Florence had the same feeling of being overrun as Venice does. Perhaps there the tourists just have more room to spread out. We were able to use our Italian a little more there than in Venice, but we didn't need it as much in Siena.
Mostly we just wandered. There were some big things we wanted to see and in between we just saw what we found. One of our first discoveries was the Florentine farmer's market, where we were able to sample fresh cheeses, wines, olive oil, biscotti, and other delicacies. The most popular stand was one selling various pasta sauces; I bought a few, but I think the flavors will be a surprise for the people who get to help eat them.
Here are some pictures of the duomo. This was free to enter, but after the grandeur of the outside, the rather plain interior was a bit of a disappointment. I think my favorite part was the floor.
Another one of the main attractions in Florence is the Ponte Vecchio (old bridge). It is one of the few remaining bridges with shops built on it (the Rialto in Venice is another). We just used the bridge to cross from one side of the Arno to the other; there were mostly jewelry shops, and there was nothing we could afford.
A better stop was the Piazzale Michaelangelo, which is high on a hill and offers a great view of the city below. Here is the duomo from afar.
Our last stop Saturday was the Piazza della Signoria, which is by the Palazzo Vecchio, where there are several sculptures on display. Aside from David, who is, of course, a Biblical figure, most of them were figures from Greek and Roman mythology. Here's someone fighting a centaur. (I wasn't able to find the name of this one.)
The Rape of the Sabine Women.
Perseus with the Head of Medusa.
And this is The Fountain of Neptune.
The top one is in The David's original location in front of the Palazzo Vecchio. The second is in the Piazzale Michaelangelo.
The Accademia also has a large collection of plaster models and medieval art, among many other pieces. Also on display, temporarily, I believe, was what was once a private collection of Russian icon paintings. That's exactly the kind of thing Russians hate; those don't belong in Italy, especially considering that Italy has so much artwork of its own. Sadly, I think we're all starting to get tired of it.After the Accademia and a bit of exploring, we returned to our hostel, Plus Florence, and headed downstairs to make use of the free drink coupons we had been given. I still don't care much for wine, but I suppose it's the thought that counts. Along with drinks, there was dancing, foosball, and pool. I was the only one of our group who played pool. A busload of Australians and New Zealanders were monopolizing the tables, but I managed to get in on a game. Since I had no partner, I got to play with one of the Australians, Damian. It was a good thing, too; I haven't played pool in ages, so I needed someone to help me out. We ended up winning, somehow. I think I held my own because I had quite a bit less to drink than the others. The frequent Star Wars themed pep talks and the excessive high fives Damian gave may have helped as well.
Since there were six of us and we're poor students, we booked a seven person room for about €15 a night, and we ended up with an Australian roommate, who was not with the bus group. Apparently, Australians are travel-crazy. We keep meeting them everywhere. Many American students dream of taking a year off after college to travel, but it seems like that's common practice, almost expected, for Australians. Anyway, our roommate, Ben, was pretty cool. He went to dinner with us Saturday night.
Saturday during the day, we did quite a bit more exploring. Florence is bigger and much more of a tourist city than Siena. We got an early start, so for awhile we had the sidewalks mostly to ourselves, but as the day went on the shops, sidewalks, and tourist attractions became more and more crowded. Still, I don't think Florence had the same feeling of being overrun as Venice does. Perhaps there the tourists just have more room to spread out. We were able to use our Italian a little more there than in Venice, but we didn't need it as much in Siena.
Mostly we just wandered. There were some big things we wanted to see and in between we just saw what we found. One of our first discoveries was the Florentine farmer's market, where we were able to sample fresh cheeses, wines, olive oil, biscotti, and other delicacies. The most popular stand was one selling various pasta sauces; I bought a few, but I think the flavors will be a surprise for the people who get to help eat them.
Here are some pictures of the duomo. This was free to enter, but after the grandeur of the outside, the rather plain interior was a bit of a disappointment. I think my favorite part was the floor.
Another one of the main attractions in Florence is the Ponte Vecchio (old bridge). It is one of the few remaining bridges with shops built on it (the Rialto in Venice is another). We just used the bridge to cross from one side of the Arno to the other; there were mostly jewelry shops, and there was nothing we could afford.
A better stop was the Piazzale Michaelangelo, which is high on a hill and offers a great view of the city below. Here is the duomo from afar.
Our last stop Saturday was the Piazza della Signoria, which is by the Palazzo Vecchio, where there are several sculptures on display. Aside from David, who is, of course, a Biblical figure, most of them were figures from Greek and Roman mythology. Here's someone fighting a centaur. (I wasn't able to find the name of this one.)
The Rape of the Sabine Women.
Perseus with the Head of Medusa.
And this is The Fountain of Neptune.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Weekend in Tuscany Part One: Siena
Last weekend, six of us set out for an adventure in Tuscany. Siena is a wonderful medieval town about 60km south of Florence, and it is where our trip began. We arrived Thursday evening, had a late dinner, did a little walking, and then settled into our comfortable hotel, Albergo la Perla, for the night. The next day, we were able to see quite a bit before leaving for Florence in the afternoon. Although we had to do a lot of walking up and down hills, Siena is not an especially big place and everything was within easy walking distance of the hotel. Our first stop was the Piazza and Basilica of San Domenico.
It's somewhat amazing that entry was free, because the main attraction in this church is the incorruptible head of Saint Catharine of Siena. Saint Catherine is especially significant because she is one of the patron saints of Italy. She died and was buried in Rome, in the Basilica di Santa Maria sopra Minerva, but since Siena was her home, the people there wished to have her body. An attempt to steal the remains was partially successful; they made off with her head and a thumb. According to legend, when their bags were searched by Roman guards, they prayed to Saint Catharine for assistance. When the bag containing the remains was opened, the guards found only rose petals. Seeing the head was... very strange, to say the least. I can't say I understand the tradition of collecting relics. Remembering someone by holding on to something they owned is one thing, but encasing body parts in gold and glass is just strange.
After the church, we were able to visit the convent where Saint Catherine lived just as it was opening. Again, entry was free, but we weren't able to see much, just two small chapels. In the gift shop, there were rosaries blessed on Saint Catherine's head. As unique as that would be, I declined to purchase one and only bought a post card. Aside from Saint Catherine, one thing Siena is known for is a horse race, called Il Palio, which is held twice a year in the main Piazza, Piazza del Campo. There are colorful crests for each of the competitors, which represent different city wards. Flags bearing these crests were available in all the gift shops, but they were about seven euros each. My postcard, which has them all, was a bargain at sixty cents. The flags were also hung in the churches we visited. The odd mix of the secular and the religious reminded me of Venice. Otherwise, the two places had little in common.
Unlike Venice, Siena did not feel like a tourist city. In Venice, we have found it difficult to practice Italian, because even when we speak Italian people reply to us in English. (Although, strangely, most people on Burano seemed to think we were French.) In Siena, few people spoke English. It made things a little more difficult for us, but between the six of us we managed to ask the questions we needed and to get our point across. We were quite proud of ourselves. People in Siena also seemed friendlier, and I think that had to do with the greater amount of open space as with the smaller numbers of tourists. Finally, there was so much to do for free. Churches were just open; we didn't need tickets or a Siena card.
This is not to say there are no places specifically set aside as tourist attractions. The most important of these are in the Piazza del Campo- the Palazzo Publico and the Torre de Mangia. The torre especially was well worth the price paid and the time spent climbing stairs; the view from the top was spectacular.
In these pictures, it is easy to see another difference between Siena and Venice. Siena is a very medieval town. Venice started as a medieval city as well- the Byzantine and Gothic architecture are clear proof of that- but Venice changed from one style to the next over time. It is not just medieval, but it is Renaissance, baroque, rococo, and neo-classical.
One final observation in comparison with Venice is that while Venice fancied itself as the next Rome, often to the point of great arrogance, Siena seems to have been much more reverent. Depictions of Romulus and Remus appear throughout the town, and legend has it that Siena was founded by the son of Remus, named Senius.
Also in Siena, I'm pretty sure we discovered the best deal on pizza in all of Italy. For just €2,50 each, we got huge slices of pizza, which we enjoyed while sitting in the Piazza del Campo. (Which we later discovered was illegal, but no one really cared.) Later that afternoon, we boarded a bus bound for Florence.
It's somewhat amazing that entry was free, because the main attraction in this church is the incorruptible head of Saint Catharine of Siena. Saint Catherine is especially significant because she is one of the patron saints of Italy. She died and was buried in Rome, in the Basilica di Santa Maria sopra Minerva, but since Siena was her home, the people there wished to have her body. An attempt to steal the remains was partially successful; they made off with her head and a thumb. According to legend, when their bags were searched by Roman guards, they prayed to Saint Catharine for assistance. When the bag containing the remains was opened, the guards found only rose petals. Seeing the head was... very strange, to say the least. I can't say I understand the tradition of collecting relics. Remembering someone by holding on to something they owned is one thing, but encasing body parts in gold and glass is just strange.
After the church, we were able to visit the convent where Saint Catherine lived just as it was opening. Again, entry was free, but we weren't able to see much, just two small chapels. In the gift shop, there were rosaries blessed on Saint Catherine's head. As unique as that would be, I declined to purchase one and only bought a post card. Aside from Saint Catherine, one thing Siena is known for is a horse race, called Il Palio, which is held twice a year in the main Piazza, Piazza del Campo. There are colorful crests for each of the competitors, which represent different city wards. Flags bearing these crests were available in all the gift shops, but they were about seven euros each. My postcard, which has them all, was a bargain at sixty cents. The flags were also hung in the churches we visited. The odd mix of the secular and the religious reminded me of Venice. Otherwise, the two places had little in common.
Unlike Venice, Siena did not feel like a tourist city. In Venice, we have found it difficult to practice Italian, because even when we speak Italian people reply to us in English. (Although, strangely, most people on Burano seemed to think we were French.) In Siena, few people spoke English. It made things a little more difficult for us, but between the six of us we managed to ask the questions we needed and to get our point across. We were quite proud of ourselves. People in Siena also seemed friendlier, and I think that had to do with the greater amount of open space as with the smaller numbers of tourists. Finally, there was so much to do for free. Churches were just open; we didn't need tickets or a Siena card.
This is not to say there are no places specifically set aside as tourist attractions. The most important of these are in the Piazza del Campo- the Palazzo Publico and the Torre de Mangia. The torre especially was well worth the price paid and the time spent climbing stairs; the view from the top was spectacular.
In these pictures, it is easy to see another difference between Siena and Venice. Siena is a very medieval town. Venice started as a medieval city as well- the Byzantine and Gothic architecture are clear proof of that- but Venice changed from one style to the next over time. It is not just medieval, but it is Renaissance, baroque, rococo, and neo-classical.
One final observation in comparison with Venice is that while Venice fancied itself as the next Rome, often to the point of great arrogance, Siena seems to have been much more reverent. Depictions of Romulus and Remus appear throughout the town, and legend has it that Siena was founded by the son of Remus, named Senius.
Also in Siena, I'm pretty sure we discovered the best deal on pizza in all of Italy. For just €2,50 each, we got huge slices of pizza, which we enjoyed while sitting in the Piazza del Campo. (Which we later discovered was illegal, but no one really cared.) Later that afternoon, we boarded a bus bound for Florence.Monday, November 9, 2009
Padova
Last Wednesday we took a day trip to Padova (or Padua) which is about 40 km west of Venice. Putting aside the fact that Padova is a city in Italy, and, more specifically, the Veneto, it is much more like what we would consider a "normal" city than Venice. There were more modern buildings, more stores, and it was much less touristy. Additionally, there were roads and transportation, and encountering cars again in Padova was even more alarming than on the Lido. On the Lido, we had two roads to cross to get to the beach, and they weren't very busy. In Padova, there was so much going on that we almost didn't know how to react; we've gotten so used to just walking wherever there is space to do so in Venice. Here, one might bump into other people (in fact, it's pretty much unavoidable) but one can't be hit by a bus. Thankfully, we quickly moved on to what has now become very familiar territory: museums, churches, and the like.
Our first stop, after making reservations for our later visit to the Scrovegni Chapel, was the Scuola di San Antonio and Oratorio di San Giorgio, where we noticed another difference between Venice and Padova: people were friendly. Inside the Oratorio, there was a statue that I, as a fan of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, really wanted a picture of.
Since it wasn't a painting, and if I turned off my camera's flash, I thought the guard might allow me to take one. He did better than that. Because we are students, he allowed us to linger after visiting hours and everyone else had gone and take as many pictures as we liked.
Despite having plenty of churches, monuments, museums, and other attractions, Padova just isn't a tourist city like Venice. True, people live and work in Venice, and not everyone employed here is part of the tourism industry, but tourism is as much a part of the idea of Venice as it is of the Venetian economy. Tourists in Venice are often compared to the pidgeons; they're everywhere, and they can't be driven away. Even the "real" Venice offers no reprieve. I'm sure it's much less common to take pictures of people's laundry in Padova.
After the Oratorio, we visited the Basilica di Sant' Antonio da Padova. That's a tiny corner of it on the left of the photo above. The basilica is massive, possibly the largest church I've ever visited. Within are housed the incorruptable relics of Saint Anthony, his tongue and jawbone, but we were not able to see them. We were, however, able to step up and lay a hand on his tomb, as locals and pilgrims do when they pray to him. We refrained from purchasing a €40 candle to leave as an offering. Sadly, we were not allowed to take pictures inside the basilica. There were many interesting works of art inside. For example, on a tomb, there was a figure of Death (a skeleton) with a trumpet, and on one of the columns I noticed some bas reliefs of ships; I think they depicted naval battles in which someone in one of the other tombs fought.
Outside the basilica was a work of art we were able to photograph, an equestrian statue by Donatello. This was the first equstrian statue since the fall of the Roman empire, and it was sculpted at a time when the use of bronze was still a learning process. You can see here that the horse's foot is supported; it was not yet known how to raise one and still have a balanced statue.
After lunch, we visited the Scrovegni Chapel, which was something of an ordeal. The chapel was built by Enrico Scrovegni, possibly in an attempt to expunge his father's sins as well as his own. Both men were usurers, money lenders. The father, Reginaldo, appears in Dante's Inferno, and Enrico is shown in one of the paintings inside presenting the church to the Virgin Mary. The frescos in the church are by Giotto, and the cycle is considered, to quote the Wikipedia article, "one of the most important masterpieces of Western art." Unfortunately, some of the frescos have been damaged, but much work is being done to preserve them. We were definitely not allowed to take pictures inside; we weren't even allowed to carry our bags with us. Visits to the chapel have to be booked in advance, and each group is allowed only fifteen minutes. Before entering, there was an instructional video, thankfully with English subtitles, and then we proceeded through a sort of airlock of glass doors to see the chapel in person. A guard with a timer kept an eye on things and told us when we had to leave. As impressive as the art was, it seemed like a lot of trouble for such a small church.Outside, there was a park, which was somewhat more enjoyable, although we didn't have much time to appreciate it. The locals were certainly taking advantage of the nice weather, though. Many were napping on the grass. The abundance of green space is another difference between Venice and Padova. Venice doesn't have the space for much green space, and is pretty much limited to the Giardini imposed by Napoleon. The public spaces are the campi, and I think they're used and enjoyed in a much different way than public spaces in Padova.
It may be also that there is simply another class of people in Padova. The city is home to the University of Padova, and it definitely had a college town feel. There were students on the streets, in the piazze, in the parks, in the cafes... just hanging out. There are students in Venice too, of course, but one doesn't see much of them. Our group encounters them only if they happen to eat in the San Servolo mensa or if we find time to go to the Campo Santa Margarita to enjoy the "nightlife." We've also been lucky enough to encounter some graduates in both cities. There were several around the university in Padova. The graduates didn't stand out because they were wearing caps and gowns, however. Italians have a strange tradition, sort of the reverse of hazing, in which a lucky graduate is dressed up, paraded through town, and generally humiliated by his or her friends and family. This might involve drinking an entire bottle of wine, carrying a sign upon which are written all sorts of embarassing things, being sprayed with silly string... The only limit appears to be the tormentors' imaginations.
In all cases, there is a song that goes along with the festivities. Video
The University of Padova is famous for many reasons. We were able to see the anatomy theater, and the doorway of the room where Galileo taught.
LinkOne popular part of the tour was the statue of Elena Cornaro Piscopia, the first woman to graduate from the university of Padova, or, for that matter, any university.
All in all, it was a really cool day, and I think you can see why it took me awhile to write about it. I'd like to go back, if I get the chance, if only for a change of atmosphere and to do some shopping.
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