Mercatino update

The Art Gods were smiling this time (and they were mindful of my thin purse, too).

Here’s what I got: old photos of two fine, young Italians – he from Venice, she from Florence – who undoubtedly never met, but will soon become marito e moglia (husband and wife) in a diptych I am building. Sadly, they won’t be Italians anymore when I’m finished with them, just a nameless couple, a set of symbols. Some sacrifices must be made for art.

I’ve been waiting two or three months for this bride and groom to turn up. But I thought they would be of another era, perhaps of my mother’s generation. It turns out that this pair, being from the time of Queen Victoria, will embody the spirit and message I want for the piece perfectly.

Do you see the magic here? Something envisioned and desired simply appears. No smoke, no mirror, no strings. Just magic.

Mercatino San Maurizio

Tomorrow morning there will be a big flea market, a mercatino, here in Campo San Maurizio. Very special. It only comes four times a year. I stumbled upon it by accident in September 2003, just minutes after my arrival, when I brought myself to Venice to celebrate my birthday. I had heard and read about it, but I didn’t know exactly where to find it, nor even when it might be held. I guess Fate was on my side. More likely, La Serenissima had already begun her seduction of me. Che buona fortuna!

It turned out to be my first discovery in Venice, and an important one at that because here I first began buying some of the most important things I have used in my studio work, starting with a set of ten vintage Venetian perfume bottles. It’s a very fond memory, that first burst of inspiration in my overwhelmed but delighted mind. Since then I have done my best to schedule my visits to coincide with the mercatino schedule.

I like to come here the night before it opens and see it like this, all the stands waiting for the vendors and their merchandise. I never know what I’m going to find here – sometimes there’s nothing at all for me. But the empty mercatino in the late night gloom always seems so full of mystery and promise and excitement. I think about what might be waiting for me here in the morning, and what new ideas might occur to me when I find it. It’s exactly like being a kid on Christmas Eve.

Hope I can sleep tonight!

Scent of a city

Late May, and La Serenissima’s mock orange hedges are in full bloom. There must be many more of them than I can see, hidden away in private gardens, because here and there the city has that intense “wedding bouquet” scent. It’s intoxicating, a lovely surprise, to turn a corner and find oneself surrounded by a fragrant cloud of it.

Piazza alla mattina

Get up early enough and you can have the entire Piazza to yourself, even see the sun making its way through these noble old pillars.

You have to bring your own coffee, though.

"Tiny Dancer"

Italian artisans make fantastic, elegantly dressed and bejeweled marionettes, and Venetian shops sell the most beautiful ones I have ever seen. They fascinate me. If I believed for even half a minute that I could actually learn to operate one of these little pretend beings, I would run straight out and buy one.

Their faces are so expressive and cunning. Their eyes glitter, their hairstyles gleam. Their intricate little costumes (complete with hats, boots or slippers, jewelry, furs, swords, masks, and props!) rival the most glamorous, costly ones offered for any full-size Carnevale reveler. The word for them is “delightful.”

Still, the one I like best is this dapper fellow, a wee, grinning skeleton in saddle oxfords and a blue fur top hat who dances like nobody’s business. He lives in a tiny lime green coffin when he’s not hoofing it for his young zinzaro (gypsy) master in knee pants. He’s got more personality and far more dazzling moves on the dance floor than most humans I know. He does it all: rock, pop, disco, salsa, hip-hop, or house. You can imagine his “Thriller” opening bit. (Moonwalk? Michael Jackson, step aside!) And he really works the crowd. Sometimes he’s quite bold. He picks out a female bystander and flirts shamelessly with her, never once missing a beat of his routine. It’s very funny to watch the way a few scraps of wood and papier mâche on strings can make a grown woman blush!

Species: Hedera Veneta

All over Venice there are PVC plastic conduit tubes of different lengths appearing to “grow” out of the pavement at the base of buildings. Heaven knows what these ugly things are or were for. Most people never even see them.

But some clever prankster has noticed them. He or she located them all and gave each a label with its Latin horticultural “species” name and other pertinent information, i.e., color (all seem to be of the rossa variety), native environment, etc.

This individual went to considerable effort to complete this prank, even taking the time to find a label paper with a very stubborn adhesive. That is to say, these labels do not come off easily, thus adding to the illusion of the seriousness of this seemingly city-sanctioned project.

Again, here is a thoughtful and/or crazy person I would really like to meet.

Her artisans

Of course everyone knows about Venice’s glass and lace industries, but the city has more than its share of craftsmen of every ilk – metal casters, mirror makers, woodcarving masters, marqueterie specialists, weavers, gilders, stonecutters, leather artisans, papermakers, printers, engravers, bookbinders, and more. Then there are all the skilled people who perform the magic of restoring old or damaged treasures to their original beauty. And then there are those who can hardly be labeled, like the amazing woman at Cenerentola (“Cinderella”) who makes fabulous lampshades out of any and everything. Once she used a countess’s underpants!

If you’re willing to step away from the “tourist tramp” and wander into some less-traveled calli, there are plenty of opportunities to peek in and watch these people at work. Many of them are delighted to take a break and chat about what they do (and just many will simply scowl or even growl at you).

How do you find them? With your eyes, ears, and nose… Watch the doorways for a puff of sawdust, listen for the tap-tap of a delicate chisel, sniff for a whiff of mineral spirits. If you’re lucky, there will be a big, gorgeous ornament on the door to draw your attention, like this beauty belonging to a busy metal caster in Santa Croce.