Venice Again - Day 6

 Random photos from our 5th day in this old, beautiful, incomparable city . . .

Primavera by Lilla Tabasso.  Milano 2019.  Flamed Murano glass, hand-blown and modelled.

Masks for Il Carnavale,

Golden mosaics at the Basilica di San Marco.  We were there at the noon hour when the lights are lit, and the gold mosaics shine as brightly as the sun.  The gold mosaics were, indeed, chosen to represent the light of God.  On our previous visit we explored the basilica at length, so this time we just stopped in to pay our respects to the patriarch of this ancient city.

Marble bench inside the basilica eroded by water.  Acqua Alta has taken its toll on most buildings in Venice.

Gondola ride:  Check.  Last time we rode the gondola at night, so this time we tried a daytime trip.

A charming young artist named Daniele pointed out that Venice is a city meant to be painted vertically.

Daniele is an apprentice in the studio of Ugo Barraco, an artist that works in mixed media, primarily etchings on zinc, and acquatinta.  He helpfully lightened the weight of my wallet. I'll show you what I bought as soon as I have it framed.  Right now, it's sitting at the bottom of our suitcase, safely encased in a cardboard tube.

We had lunch at Hotel Pensione Wildner-Venezia.  Paccheri Pasta with Beef Ragoût au Gratin, for my husband . . .

And Beef Tagliata with seasonal vegetables for me . . .

Bridge of Sighs, connecting the Doge's interrogation rooms in the Palace to the New Prisons.

After another exhausting and wonder-filled day, we turned in for the night.  The days are going by so fast!

Venice Again - Day 3

Somehow, our morning eggs taste a little better while sitting under Murano chandeliers.

Today was a busy one.  We visited the Accademia on our last trip, but I really needed another look.

Standing in front of The Feast in the House of Levin by Veronese (18.21 ft. by 42.98 ft.).  Originally titled The Last Supper, the Inquisition accused the painter of irreverence, indecorum and heresy, and demanded that he make changes to the painting.  Instead, Veronese simply changed the title.

Sala di Capitolo, Gallerie dell'Accademia di Venezia . . .

The ceiling is covered in gilded cherubs, each with a slightly different face.

Then back at Piazza San Marco for a bite to eat at Caffè Florian.  The food is delivered covered in these metallic mesh domes, to protect it from the pigeons.

We walked all over . . .

Until it was late, and even the gondole were covered up . . .

And ended up at the terrace in our hotel . . .

With the great view of Santa Maria della Salute.

In gratitude for the deliverance of the city from the Plague, the city of Venice built and dedicated this church to the Our Lady of Health.

We enjoyed some cappuccinos — how very American of us!  Italians wouldn't dream of having a cappuccino at any time except breakfast!  We also noticed that whenever you order coffee anywhere in Italy, it always comes with a few cookies.  It's such a charming, hospitable touch!

“Ah, che luna — oh, che nare

With such a moon and such a sea

And you and me

I get so dizzy when you're standing near

It's not the music that you hear

My heart is beating like a jungle drum

Let's take the minutes as they speed away

And hope it's true what people say:

When you're in love tomorrow never comes.”

                                — Frank Sinatra

Gondola amore!

From the moment you step into the Alilaguna waterbus at the airport, you begin to spot them . . .

They can be found clustered in front of old palaces . . .

Gliding quietly down narrow canals . . .

Early in the morning . . .

When restaurants haven't even opened yet . . .

And late at night, when the water looks inky black, and you feel you've stepped back in time . . .

Out on the Canal Grande, competing for navigable space with water buses and power boats, while the winged lion, symbol of Venice, keeps watch over it all . . .

Trying to stay relevant in a city that today is largely a living museum . . .

You can spot them from the Bridge of Sighs - the bridge connecting the Ducal Palace to the Prisons.  I can easily imagine a gondola being the last thing a condemned prisoner might see as he crossed the bridge towards his incarceration . . .

How brave these gondolieri are, fighting for survival, physical and metaphorical, in the 21st century!

Some long-ago doge (reigning duke) decreed that all gondole should be black to eliminate unseemly competition for the fanciest rig . . .  (Notice the plural form of gondola is gondole, NOT gondolas, as it was emphatically, albeit politely, pointed out to me by a native) . . .

At one time, there were 10,000 gondole in the Venetian lagoon.  Today, there are roughly 500 of them left, all catering to the tourist industry . . .

And, yes, it was expensive and a bit of a cliché, but how could we NOT indulge in a romantic ride?  Our 4th generation gondoliere sang in a desultory fashion, more to himself than to us, while he steered us through quiet rii (small canals), and onto the Canal Grande . . .

Never ask a gondoliere to sing “O Sole Mio” - that's a Neapolitan song!  That travesty occurs at The Venetian, in Las Vegas!  But, to paraphrase the popular saying:  What happens in Vegas, most definitely ought to stay in Vegas . . .  Click here to hear a charming Venetian folk song . . .

I brought home this bit of lace - made in the island of Burano; and, just recently, had it mounted and framed . . .

The silk backing is Venetian Blue (I kid you NOT!). The gilded frame reminds me of the waves in the Venetian lagoon.  Ah, the romance of Venice has come home with me . . . 

Acqua Alta

Water.  In Venice it's everywhere . . .  The Venetians adopted this lagoon, and, if not conquered it, they certainly learned how to manage the water while embracing a distinctive way of life . . .

Water meanders through the city through a myriad canals . . .

And every day, Venice faces "Acqua Alta" - High Tide - when it comes, the city floods.  Venetians have long given up living on the lower level of their buildings . . .

Here's St. Mark Square - Piazza San Marco, during acqua alta, at roughly 11:00 A.M.  There are puddles everywhere, which will disappear slowly as the day wears on . . .

Risers are put in place, so pedestrians can access St. Mark's Cathedral.  The water actually gets so high that it seeps inside the church . . .  I've read that in the winter months it's even worse!

Ripples form as the water comes up from the drains . . .

Risers are piled everywhere, waiting for the next tide . . .

The water damage to these precious buildings is incalculable . . .  Engineers are feverishly working to build a dyke that is supposed to help keep the water at bay.  Global warming doesn't help, as the sea levels have risen . . .

It's remarkable, really, the culture that evolved despite these tremendous challenges . . . 

The acquamarine stuff didn't allow you to forget for even one moment that it was there, beautiful, powerful . . . and everywhere . . .