Where have you been, Els? Sorry I came back from Italy and then jumped into about 12 days of family and spending time Needoh hunting with my granddaughters. Did you know that was a thing? More on that later. Back to bella Italia.
6/28/26 On our last morning in Rome, Bob and Sally and I had a second glorious breakfast at the Hotel Oceania and plotted our departure from Fiumoncino Termini. We walked over, Bob gallantly hauling my second suitcase for me (I really have to figure out how to travel with less clothing next time!) and we parted at the train station departure board where I waited to learn what track my train to Venice left from. Bob and Sally sauntered off to catch their 10:20 train and eventually the sign clicked over to reveal the 9416 train to Venezia leaving from track 1! Off I chugged to the front of Carrozza 2 in testa del treno (meaning facing the front of the train as it drives out of the station). After a brief but unexpected delay in Firenze of thirty-five minutes, we continued powering through to Venice. I descended at Mestre, as my friend Alberto was meeting me there. His wife, my friend Caroline, and their friend Melissa, visiting from Sydney, Australia were in Todi and driving back to their home in Mirano. Train stations in Italy frequently have tunnels connecting the track areas to the main terminal and Mestre is no different. This is another good reason to limit the weight and heft of your luggage. As I rolled up to the stairs leading up to the terminal, a man came up next to me and offered to take my bag up the stairs. I demurred, but he grabbed the handle and started up the 15 or so stairs to the top. I followed, mumbling, “Lei e molto gentile, grazie,” and as he reached the top of the stairs, the hand previously curled around my suitcase handle, curled in front of my nose as he awaited payment for his services. I was horrified and embarrassed, as I didn’t have any euros handy – only a $10 US in my passport case. I said as much and he waited as I fished it out. I handed him the ten and he cheekily said, “$20.” I said NO (with no small amount of outrage in my voice) and half expected him to take off running with my suitcase. Fortunately he didn’t. I felt completely embarrassed that I’d fallen for his supposed gentility. What a mark! Anyway, I recovered, and went to the change office in the train station and proceeded to get ripped off even worse – $200 US changed into 115 Euros. Yikes. Robbed at the bottom of the stairs and the top.
Anyway, I walked outside of the train station and met Alberto, who drove me to their home in Mirano where we waited for Caro and Melissa to return. I met Alberto and Caro when I lived in Italy in 1982-83 and they’ve been married since 1989. Their Mirano home is lovely and spacious, with beautiful traditional terrazzo floors and dark brown windows. The cicadas were active outside in the heat, and over the next few days, I learned the ballet of the shutters and windows that my friends manage to keep the house cool with minimal AC usage. Caroline and Melissa soon returned. They have known each other since the age of fourteen. It was lovely to witness their ease with each other. We had hamburgers and lamb sausage and salad for dinner. (I completely bailed on my vegetarian diet on this trip – as I had in 1982 when I arrived. I’m glad that my dietary choices are choices and not based on more fundamental beliefs such as “not eating anything with a face.” It makes it easier to accommodate my hosts. After dinner, we watched “The Sheep Detectives” with Hugh Jackman but by 10:00PM I was battling zzzzs. I slept through the whole reveal of the killer. I vowed to watch the movie again with my granddaughters when they visit after my return to Los Angeles.
6/29/26 I woke up about 7:00AM and stayed in bed until 7:30AM. Had two cups of tea, a peach, and a piece of toast. Caro, Melissa, Toby (the dog) and I walked into two 2-3 blocks away. Mirano has a charming town square which frequently sports tent for a farmer’s market. We window shopped, and stopped for a shakerato (cold espresso with a little sugar, shaken in a shaker). It was delicious and refreshing. We found a fendor in the market selling Marimekko-esque cotton tunics. I was initially drawn to a pretty mauve color, then green, but Caro spotted a dark brown one with tan at the bottom that was perfect. I was very happy with my purchase. We stopped at the PosteItaliane to buy some postcard stamps. It’s a bit of a deal there as people aren’t buying either post cards or stamps like they used to. Caro helped me buy the stamps – my Italian is still pretty rusty. I was constantly being rescued on this trip.
We came back to the house and had lunch – chicken salad with greens – Alberto came home from the factory for lunch. After lunch, I suggested a nap which extended til 3:30PM. We took another wak at 5:30 back to the post office to mail my six cards, each one costing 2.50 Euros (you’re worth it!). On our way back, we wandered through a church with a Tiepolo ceiling and then came back to change for dinner. Went to Villa Rossi in Noale with Melissa, Caro and Bertie for dinner. This restaurtant had been renovated by the town and owned by the city with the restaurant operating the building. Some of the original under flooring was visible through the acrylic floor under the tables. It was quite beautiful.
Dinner was delicious. After dinner, we drove through Noale and saw the Ghibilline and Guelph crenillations in the local architecture. We stopped on the way home for some gelato, admired the moon while we waited in the car for Caro to choose the flavors and planned to explore Trevino the next day, Melissa’s last before returning to Sydney.
The Veneto (the area surrounding Venice) was under a heat advisory practically the whole time I was there, but occasional breezes, and being near the water (when we were in Venice proper) we were able to stay cool. The day we went to Treviso, it was hot, hot, hot! After parking the car alongside one of the canals in Treviso, we set off in search of a cool spot to sit, which we found in the center of the city, in the rebuilt thirteenth century Town hall, the Palazzo dei Trecento. Under it’s arched canopy, the cool wind caressed the folks who sat there at the cafe, and one could almost forget how infernally hot it was just outside the shade.
The most astute among you has already noticed the curiously ribald statue of the woman in the upper left corner of the above photo clutching her breasts. Please excuse the bawdy translation of this sixteen century fountain, which had a vital role to play in the annual celebration of the new Podestà, or chief magistrate. From it’s completion in 1560 until the end of the Venetian Republic in 1797, “people could quench their thirst with white and red wine that flowed from each of the bust’s breasts.” Entitled the fontana di terre, it was restored in 1634, then dismantled and damaged during Napoleon’s domination and the destruction of the 1000-year-old Venetian Republic in May of 1797. This useful and sustaining statue has wandered the town of Treviso according to this write up. Originally it was “located in Piazza dei Signori by the corner of the Palazzo Pretorio on the facade facing the Calmaggiore.”
We window shopped, visited the Museo Civico, and whipped through an exhibit of late 19th, early 20th century painter whose name has escaped me, sadly. We stopped for some gelato on the way back to the car then made our way home so that Melissa could pack for her return to Sydney via Paris the next night.
6/30/26 We dropped Melissa at the airport in Venice at 3:30. After bidding her a fond farewell, we drove to the Venice Tronchetto and parked the car, walking to the vaporetto stop and taking the 2 to San Basilio where we got off to go to Caro’s dental appointment. I bought a two-day vap ticket then we reboarded the vaporetto and got off at San Marcuola, shopping along the way to their apartment at a friendly pizza take out place. We also visited the Theatro Italia. I had a moment of intense excitement as I saw all these people rushing purposefully in and out of the theatre, only to realize once inside that it had been converted into a grocery store!
If only the theatre could be as fundamental as food one day. For others; there are those of us who already feel that way. 🙂 Such a beautifully repurposed building and store. We bought canteloupe and prosciutto, arancino (a rice and cheese ball that looks like an orange). We came back to the apartment to discover that the power was off, and the fridge warm. We opened the windows, and Caro cleaned up the ants who had taken up residency on the counter. She went downstairs and flipped the breakers back on and before long, we had the AC going and could eat some of our procured provisions. At 9:00PM, we went for a walk to Piazza San Marco. It was magical. The moon was a strawberry red color and just being outside the Basilica and Doge’s Palace after forty plus years away made me a little weak in the knees with nostalgia. There were a fair amount of tourists in spite of the heat. San Marco is as breathtaking as ever. We sat on some benches at the front of the Doge’s Palace then walked around to the side facing San Giorgio, where we’d scattered some of my husband’s ashes back in 2019 the last time I was there. I’d convinced myself he was resting by The Salute, but realized as we sat there that it was indeed San Giorgio. Hi, Jimmie!
We were going to take the vaporetto home but it was packed so we waited in the coolish breeze, watching the rise of the full strawberry moon over the Lido. A sailboat slipped by and I captured this photo. Once we got back to the apartment, we took showers again before donning our PJs. The apartment was cool now, 23 degrees. After 20,000 steps I slept hard, waking at about 6:40 when a dream-induced carabinieri (cop) rapped sharply on my car window. As I fell asleep, lying in the bed with the shutters and windows open, I listened as the rowdy voices in the street quelled and slept until I started to hear boats on the canal outside. It was gorgeous.
7/1/26 Time to go to the Biennale! Caro also generously offered me her ticket to the Fenice to see the opera that night, Venus and Adonis. I was so excited to see the Fenice again, especially after seeing her cousin in Amelia the week before. We started by going to the Giardini Biennali by vaporetto. Caro got her year-round resident ticket for 50 Euros so she can come back whenever she wants. I bought my day pass, which allows me to spend one day in each of the major venues. We stopped at Paradiso, the cafe right be the entrance to the pavilions for a Shakerato and a ham and cheese croissant, then made a beeline for the entrance to the Austrian Pavilion where Caro’s daughter Mathilda had told her there was something special to see there. We dutifully got in line, which promised to be an hour long wait and Caro held our spot first while I bopped off to the Serbian Pavilion and the Venetian Pavilion.
The name of the Austrian exhibit was Seaworld Venice, and we knew nothing about it until after about an hour and a half of waiting, a heavily tattooed, naked woman with butt-length hair emerged from the Pavilion, wearing only a climbing harness, and she climbed up the rope of the large bronze bell which was hanging outside the pavilion, shimmying up the rope using nothing but her very bare feet and hands, until she was totally concealed by the bell. A few seconds later, she reappeared, head hanging down, her long dark hair way below her skull and her upper body and naked breasts and arms dangled down. Then the bell began to ring using her as the “flesh clapper.” There must have been something metal as well because it made a tolling sound. The violence of seeing her shoulders slamming into the side of the bell was very unsettling and I had a strong sense of voyeurism. She “rang” the bell for about five minutes and then stopped, disappearing again up into the huge bell before emerging to climb down the rope with her hands and feet. She padded off into the Pavilion.
Soon after that, we were admitted into the Pavilion to see “Seaworld Venice” by Florentina Holzinger, who seemed to be making a comment about how we are all composed of the same water. Once inside, we witnessed a large tank in qhich rested a naked girl on a bed in a diving mask and air supply, weighted at the hips with black diving weights. We watched her in her bed as she moved the pillow and covers around to get “comfy”. Next to the tank sat a Port-a-Potty which purported to be providing much of the water needed to fill this exhibit and the previous two rooms we’d walked by. One of the rooms had a Skidoo on which another naked girl eventually rode around the square room, and on the other side, a pole with naked sculpted figures turned, a chair attached at the bottom. Earlier when we were outside, I’d seen through the Pavilion’s high windows a naked woman climbing that pole then returning down to her chair so we didn’t stay to watch hat. Even after explicitly being told to not take photos or videos inside the exhibit (undoubtedly because of the nudity), there was still some guy next to me holding his camera up over his head to film.
We next went to the Japanese Pavilion which hosted a weird but touching baby themed exhibit which addressed both the dwindling population of babies in Italy and Japan, but also the plight of gay couples in realizing their dreams for family. You could either go through the exhibit with a baby in your arms, or without. All the babies looked like boys and wore glasses and came in various poses. The ernest young docent spoke perfect English and explained how the artist Ei Arakawa-Nash and their partner, Forrest had adopted two babies during COVID-19 and became parents in 2024. The artist asked the audience through the action of taking a baby or not: “What does it mean to parent and to care? What should they teach their children?” We eschewed carrying a fifteen-pound baby through the exhibit because the baby dolls were appropriately heavy. And by doing so, apparently we completely missed the experience the artist had hoped we would have.
With the weight of a baby’s body in your arms, Grass Babies, Moon Babies immerses us in these myriad questions, inviting us to confront our shared courage, responsibility and love for these tiny precious lives.
Curatorial Statement by Lisa Horikawa and Mizuki Takahashi
The exhibit had a special change area where you could open a diaper to get a QR code which took you to a story or poem of meaning. It was whimsical and quite moving and quite a few patrons were shepherding their babies through the exhibit as though they were real children.
I have to say it was one of my favorite exhibits in the Biennale this year.
Later that evening, I attended the afore-mentioned opera at the Fenice. Venere e Adone by Salvatore Sciarrino. Subtitled: Naufrigio di un mito (Shipwreck of a myth)
Who won in the end, Love or Death? Venere e Adone describes the immortal gods with simple cynicism. They embody the parody of all human weaknesses. Also, Adonis, a poor mortal, makes himself ridiculous swaggering around like a teenager; in reality he is a toy in the hands of the Gods. Even Cupid, the embodiment of ruthless will, feels compassion for him when he declares he is willing to hide an arrow in his quiver.
Program notes from the Fenice
Being at the Fenice again was truly a thrill. The last time I’d been there was to see Pina Bausch’s company perform 1984 in 1983 and I still have memories of some of the imagery and choreography. But this night I was struck by the beauty of the theatre itself. I met Katerina, Caro’s friend from school. Retired three years, after teaching science. Also, there were two architects who lived in Venice in our box as well. I loved the opera – Katerina was lukewarm on it, I think. I emerged from the theatre into a thunderstorm, and carrying the umbrella Caro had thoughtfully provided me, I made my way back to the apartment with my google map and my significant history of Venetian umbrella handling. I had on sandals which didn’t fare well, especially in the puddles. I was met by Caro on the Strada Nuova and we finished the route home. Slept well again with the windows open and lots of fresh air coming in.
7/2/26 Day two of the Biennale, this time at the Arsenale. There are exhibits for the Biennale all over Venice, not just in the Giardini Biennali and the Arsenale. On our way to the Arsenale, we stopped at Palazzo Soranzo Van Axel along the way to see the work of Suxiaobai’s Alchemical Universe. First, the palazzo itself was magnificent. The Biennale affords glimpses into these special places that one wouldn’t usually get. These pit stops are usually free, as well.
Su Xiaobai (b. 1949, Wuhan, China) works with the ancient medium of lacquer. There was a fascinating film showing him hand grinding pigments and mixing mineral powders and shell dust into a “soup.” He adds up to twenty layers of surface to finely crafted wood supports, and his resulting lacquer surfaces
…sink and rise, interpenetrating each other as the multiple layers dry, hiding and revealing myriad chromatic depths.
Stephen Little, Curator of Chinese Art and Head of the Chinese, Korean and South and Southeast Asian Art Departments, LACMA
7/3/26 The third day was a long day, but the best piece was saw was in the Indian Pavilion at the Arsenale. The overall exhibit was Geographies of Distance, remembering home. It featured many different artists working in large scale, elaborately varied media. Wood, flowers, cardboard boxes.
Caro’s and my favorite artist in that show was Sumakshi Singh, whose work was entitled Permanent Address, 2026. Fashioned from embroidered silk, cotton and nylon thread stretched on steel frames, the artist (with five assistants) had constructed lace-like structures of walls, hinges, brickwork and staircases of her childhood home, “revealing how architecture has been recreated as an act of labor and memory.” Rooted in the tradition of women in the family gathering to embroider together, the work reclaims domestic labor as foundational rather than decorative. It really took our breath away.
We had lunch at the restaurant at the Arsenale and by the time we were rushing home to get our suitcases we had walked over five miles. Grabbed the vaporetto at San Marcuola (Venice is starting to look more familiar to me now) we were rebuffed by the vaporetto man when fifteen people got off the very crowded boat and he only let six back on, so we had to wait. In ten minutes were were again on a very crowded boat but it emptied at the train station. Drove back to Mirano, repacked (badly) and then drove to the Subtyrol in the Dolomites. Caro and Bertie have a beautiful flat in a small mountain town there. We took a walk when we got there with Toby. The village lies in the heart of the Dolomites and is spectacular! More on that in the next post!
lifeinthethe8tre 