Harry Frankfurt is an American philosopher and author of the New York Times Best Seller "On Bullshit". Although first conceived as an essay over 30 years ago, his theory on bullshit is more relevant than ever before.
What can I say that hasn't been said about Venice a million++ times? And, of the hundreds of photos I took of Venice, what can I post that isn't already a cliche? But we were there for the two weeks straddling July and August so, for my own record, I leave mention.
Merchant in Venice
For starters, I don't know which will destroy Venice first, sea rise due to human caused climate change or us humans tromping through it's crumbling maze. Beautiful, timeworn, sea-wrecked Venice.
What hope is there for poor Venice? I think of myself as fairly savvy about these things but still that didn't stop me from touching a brick in one of its ancient walls then being "startled" when red silt gushed from it like blood from a wound.
Damn.
I really am part of the problem.
photo by anonymous
Of course, like everyone else, we were put off by the hoards of other tourists. Some 70,000+ people pour into Venice daily even though it's more an apparition than a place. However, most are day trippers or cruise ship passengers there only for a few hours. The majority want to see the same things so, if you're willing to walk, you can explore Venice more or less on your own. That's what we did. It's what we always do.
Gondola jam
We did not take a gondola. It costs about €80 per boat ($95 US). At twilight, the price goes up to around €100. However, we did take the Grand Canal ferry. That cost us €7 each. Never mind we got on the wrong boat, an island hopper, and missed the canal altogether. We rode it to the end and hopped a return ferry which did go through the Grand Canal. I highly recommend it.
- Support -
Sculpture by Lorenzo Quinn
as seen from the ferry.
57th Venice Biennale
On our last two days there we attended the 57th Venice Biennale. Since it began in 1895, the venue has grown so huge, it is now more of an expedition into strange lands than anything resembling an "art show". The exhibits are organized by country and the two main locations alone house miles of art . . . installations, performance, cinema, music, spectacle from around the world.
Roberto Cuoghi, The Imitation of Christ
photo: anonymous
Also, the grounds themselves are historic and fascinating. And, beyond the two main venues, small exhibitions are tucked into various buildings within the city maze. We stumbled onto a few but missed most.
Recorded in the Venice Arsenale. I love the sound the old building makes. video by anonymous
If you travel at all, are thinking of trying it out, are an artist, lover of art, lover of spectacle, a history buff or whatever, consider attending the next Biennale in 2019. I hope by then Venice will have established daily tourist caps. In any case, if you plan on going, plan ahead.
I didn't intend to but I spent all morning reading and commenting about Trump again. So irritating. It's such a flaming shit show. Everyday there's a new outrage. I'm glad Mueller has finally impaneled a grand jury. They've got to nail these bastards.
OK. Breathe. Breathe.
Kiss of Death
Now . . . back to Milan.
One of the grander tombs
Of all that I saw in Milan, the Cimitero Monumentale (Monumental Cemetery) was the most remarkable. This cemetery, founded in 1866, houses acres of amazing works in marble . . . everything from ornately carved name plates, portraits, busts, and figures to entire scenes, obelisks, and sepulchers. The artistry rivals many, if not most, museum pieces I've ever seen.
Some of the tombs depict the life, others betray the vanity, of the dearly departed. More importantly, most are extraordinarily expressive, making love, in life and in death, visceral.
The tomb of Zaira Brivio
B. 1876 -- D. 1896
For both of us, the most moving crypt in the entire cemetery was the tomb of Zaira Brivio, a 16 year-old girl who died in 1896. We lingered at her grave awhile, saddened by its beauty and the love expressed by her bereft family.
The tomb of Zaira Brivio
B. 1876 -- D. 1896
On another day, we visited Milan's Brera Art Gallery (Pinacoteca di Brera). The museum's collection was not the best but there were highlights. My favorite was Caravaggio's Supper at Emmaus,
Supper at Emmaus by Caravaggio
Pinacoteca di Brera museum - Milan, Italy
M. Lee's was an early perspective painting by Jacopo Tintoretto - St Mark Working Many Miracles
This summer we are moving around a lot more than usual. Since July 4, we've been in London a week, Basel Switzerland a week, Milan a week and now, many many photos later, we've been in Venice for almost two weeks. It's very hot. This Wednesday we leave for Ljubljana, Slovenia.
The best part of Milan was having dinner on a warm July evening with new friends in a pleasantly crowded courtyard cafe. It all felt very Italian until I declined the after-dinner coffee although, to their credit, everyone graciously pretended they weren't dismayed by my response. I was sorry to drop out of the flow but I like to sleep at night.
It's certainly not that I don't like coffee. I drink coffee by the mugful. It's one of the few things most of us Americans still agree on, the mug, though it's not so important in the rest of the world. We've stayed in over 50 Airbnb apartments, mostly outside the US, and of those only a couple were stocked with American-sized mugs. And, if you're traveling outside the US, forget about refills. If you want more coffee you buy another cup, full price. Say what you will about the treasonous dimwit and crew currently infesting the White House, at least in America it's possible to find a diner that still pours the proverbial endless cup. Not to say Italians don't love coffee. It ranks not far below the hallowed wine itself, but no sloshing gallons for them. In Italy coffee is a ritual so, as M. Lee recently forwarded me the Ten Commandments of Coffee, I've included them here for your convenience, should you be planning a first trip to Italy.
Skeletons of St. Ambrose and his two companions
Beyond that dinner, the Basilica of St. Ambrose (Basilica of Sant'Ambrogio) was one of my two favorite sites in Milan. The 1600 year-old basilica doesn't look that impressive from the outside. Its decorative plaster and bright frescoes are long gone leaving bare brick which makes it seem more like a garden house than important historical site.
I had to remind myself that St. Ambrose built his cathedral in the 4th century, 800 years before Cambodia's crumbling Angkor Wat was built which, by comparison, seemed so much older. Of course, over the centuries, parts of the basilica have also collapsed, been torn down, re-built, built up or over. It's like George Washington's axe which is said to be the very one young George used to chop down the legendary cherry tree, although both the head and handle have since been replaced.
White slippers cover St. Ambrose's feet.
The foot bones of one of his companions are exposed.
St. Ambrose died in Milan in 397 and he, and his two companions, have laid in the crypt below the alter ever since—give or take a few centuries during which time they disappeared.
This "music" was coming from within a 700 year-old cathedral where this lion was embedded in the door.
They say life is what you make of it. Yes, it's an irritatingly simplistic saying, an elitist platitude but, even at that, there is something to it otherwise we are dupes only, powerless to shape or influence our reality. So what do I make of life? A favorite view of mine is the surreal. I enjoy dark, ironic, absurdist and/or stupid humor and thrive on life's strange details hidden in plain sight. No wonder then, when I heard creepy organ music wafting from the nave of the 700 year-old built and rebuiltMünster (cathedral) in Basel I had to stop, listen and watch.
On the 4th of July flew from LA to London where we've been for the last few days, back in our old Finsbury Park neighborhood. This time we're much closer to our favorite halva place, Kofali Hot Nuts. The first day we bought a 2 lb block and have been working on it since. Also since arriving in London we've taken some good walks.
Lovely day in a London cemetery
For our first outing, needing a good walk to survive the stupor of jet lag, we went to Kensal Green Cemetery. Nice place to visit. It's a charming mix of history, ruin and repair. Along with some 65,000 others, some English notables are laid to rest there including Charles Babbage, often referred to as the "father of the computer" and playwright and Nobel Laureate Harold Pinter.
The Bird Park has changed in the months we've been away. It's full of cats . . . and a skunk with a fabulous long flowing tail whom I call Rosie. In the brief time we were back, I put food out as always and good old Maggie Magpie, who ever keeps an eye on the place, showed up for breakfast as always, but she was one of the very few birds daring enough to do so.
Of course, predators have hunted here before but never stayed. Until now, the Bird Park was a relatively peaceful world just for birds. No more and I'm sad about that. I suspect these cats live in the house just over the back fence so they have the place for now. The black one spent most of her time staking out the squirrel hole and all four came and went at will. At various times I chased them away but it won't matter. I'm already gone again for months. Perhaps this is the end of an era.
First day of summer. All the mysticism and high holy aspirations aside . . . do yourself a favor. Pause. Yes. Take a moment or two today to breathe, look around, start fresh. Pass it on.
The big bad wolf ie the rule of ablaut reduplication
“Adjectives in English absolutely have to be in this order: opinion-size-age-shape-colour-origin-material-purpose Noun. So you can have a lovely little old rectangular green French silver whittling knife. But if you mess with that word order in the slightest you’ll sound like a maniac. It’s an odd thing that every English speaker uses that list, but almost none of us could write it out.” - Mark Forsyth, BBC
