#VeniceBooks: Palazzo Mocenigo - The Lives of Spaces (Lucia in the Age of Napoleon by Andrea di Robilant)

Palazzo Mocenigo by Carlo Naya

(Venice, Italy) I nominate Andrea di Robilant for American Ambassador to Italy, or Italian Ambassador to the United States, whichever position becomes available first. He is an international treasure and should be paid a pot of gold and a rainbow to bridge the gap between the cultures. Son of an American mother and an Italian father, Andrea's ancestors also include two of the most ancient noble families in Venice, the Memmos and the Mocenigos. Most importantly, he has a tri-cultural sense of humor.

That image you see is of Palazzo Mocenigo, and was shot by Carlo Naya back in the mid-1800s when photography was in its infancy. "The Lives of Spaces" was the name of Ireland’s participation at the 11th International Architecture Exhibition at La Biennale last year, and inspired my thought that Palazzo Mocenigo -- the space itself -- is a fertile backdrop for many Venetian stories right up until the present day. There's a whole lotta ghosts running around over there.

Last Monday, I heard Andrea speak in English over at UNESCO about his latest book, Lucia in the Age of Napoleon. (Sitting next to me at the lecture were the current tenants of Palazzo Mocenigo, which made it even more surreal, though I do believe they were human beings, not ghosts:) This past Monday evening I caught the end of Andrea's talk in Italian, Lucia nel tempo di Napoleone, over at Ateneto Veneto. The first talk was so entertaining, I immediately read the book (in English). Andrea had some fascinating ancestors who also happened to be clever writers.

This is from the Prologue:

When I was growing up I sometimes heard my grandfather mention Lucia Mocenigo, my Venetian great-great-great-great-grandmother, who was known in the family as Lucietta. Her name usually came up in connection with Lord Byron, to whom she rented the piano nobile of her palazzo during his scandalous time in Venice. I learnt more about her many years later, while doing research on her father, Andrea Memmo, whose epic love story with the beautiful Giustiniana Wynne in the 1750s was the subject of my last book, A Venetian Affair.

You regular readers might remember hearing about Andrea Memmo and Giustiniana Wynne (another fab female writer) in the Venetian Cat Views on Venice blog. Perhaps you might want to have a look at that blog again so you can get a sense of just how small this town is, not only in space, but in time. In fact, you might want to get yourselves a pencil right now and keep a score card:)

If you've read Andrea's first book, A Venetian Affair, the second, Lucia, about Memmo's daughter, is even better. Andrea began his talk, and his book, Lucia in the Age of Napoleon, wondering why the enormous statue of Napoleon is inside the entrance of Palazzo Mocenigo.

And that is everyone's first reaction: what in tarnation is that thing doing there? Then you sort of don't notice it anymore, the way you wouldn't notice a pink elephant if it were always there.

Here is Andrea's description:

The statue, wedged into a corner, faces a damp wall in the androne (water-level entrance) of Palazzo Mocenigo, the venerable old palazzo on the Grand Canal which once belonged to my family. The emperor is clad in a Roman toga. His left arm is extended forward, as if he were pointing to a luminous future, though in fact he stares vacuously at the peeling wall in front of him. A mantle of dark grey soot has settled on to his shoulders, and a slab of roughly hewn marble links the raised arm to the head, giving the statue an unfinished look. It is hard to imagine a more incongruous presence than the one of a youthful Napoleon standing sentinel in that humid hallway to the sound of brackish water slapping and sloshing in the nearby canal

Back in 2001, when I was writing for the IHT-Italy Daily, I saw the statue for the first time. I had just submitted a piece about Vivaldi, and was on vacation in Croatia, splashing sweetly in the sea by Rovinj, when my editor in Milano called. He said my editor in NYC was not happy with the piece, and could I please rewrite it? Vivaldi was too old, too dusty; he wanted something more contemporary. "Oh, sure. No problem," I said, and tossed my cell phone to a baby shark.

Seriously, I think I had two days when I got back to Venice to tweak the piece, and I decided to write about composers in Venice in general (subtitled: The Music of Vivaldi and Many Modern Composers Attest to the Serenissima's Rich Musical Tradition -- and no, I did not write that!).

A friend said he knew a Spanish pianist who lived in Lord Byron's former apartment. Enrique Pérez de Guzmàn graciously granted me an interview inside the very rooms you see there. I mixed the story into the previous Vivaldi piece, tossed and served. My slave-driving editor in NYC, Claudio Gatti, was pleased.

This is from the IHT-Italy Daily September 7, 2001:

"I was bitten by Venice," said Pérez de Guzmán. "I fell in love with the city. You establish a rapport -- it gives you a peaceful feeling so that you can create. You absorb all the beauty and peace that Venice gives you, and incorporate it into your own work, then give it back to the world. To create your own music, to find peace of mind in order to create a new repertoire or to get ready for the season, Venice is ideal.

For centuries, artists and musicians have come to Venice for inspiration. Wagner composed the second act of 'Tristan und Isolde' here for many of the same reasons, I imagine. Tchaikowsky was here, Mozart, Goethe, Ezra Pound and John Ruskin. Lord Byron wrote the first two cantos of his masterpiece 'Don Juan' right here in these rooms. Benjamin Britten and Arthur Rubinstein have played the piano in my drawing room. Some of the greatest talents in the world have held private concerts in this palazzo."

A few years later I had a regatta party at my house -- it could have been for the Vogalonga because I vaguely remember Enrique wearing something stripey inspired by that theme. Pierre Higonnet, who then owned the Galleria del Leone over on Giudecca, brought Andrea di Robilant as his guest. And that, folks, is how Andrea di Robilant met Enrique Pérez de Guzmàn, who was living inside Andrea's family's former home (which included Lord Byron's apartment in Palazzo Mocenigo) and that is how I met Andrea.

(Think of it like this: you grow up in your grandparent's home. Things change. People die. Other people now live in your home. Now you live somewhere else on the planet. But you still yearn for those old familiar childhood memories. Many years later, you visit your hometown. You go to a party. You meet someone, and they are now living in your old home. Venice is like that.)

Andrea writes about Lucia Mocenigo's most famous tenant, Lord Byron:

Lucia and Byron parted on very unfriendly terms, yet in a way the poet never really left Palazzo Mocenigo, or Venice for that matter, and still today his spirit hovers over the city he helped to resurrect. Venice was dead when he arrived in 1816, and the Austrians had no intention of spending money or effort to revive it... It was Byron, a stranger to Lucia's Venetian world, who gave the city a new life by turning those sinking ruins into an existential landscape -- an island of the soul...

What Lord Byron wrote upon exiting Palazzo Mocenigo:

I have replenished three times over and made good by the equivalent of the doors and canal posts any little damage to her pottery. If any articles were taken by mistake, they shall be restored or replaced; but I will submit to no exorbitant charge nor imposition. What she may do I neither know nor care; if they like the law they shall have it for years to come, and if they gain, what then? They will find it difficult to 'shear the wolf' no longer in Venice. They are a damned, infamous set... a nest of whores and scoundrels.

Even today, palaces and aristocracy hold a great fascination for travelers to Venice, as does the Age of Napoleon. During Carnival, guests plop down hundreds -- if not thousands -- of euro to dress up as aristocrats and reinact the balls, a curious phenomenon to American eyes, since it is not part of our system. Gilbert von Studnitz, a German nobleman, begins his precise explanation of European aristocracy with this sentence: The German system of nobility, as indeed the European system in general, is quite different from the English system with which most Americans are familiar.

I will confess as to being completely confused myself, since there seem to be all sorts of creatures running around Venice with titles at any given moment, behaving in the strangest fashion.

This is where Lucia in the Age of Napoleon comes in handy. Not only was Lucia a Memmo herself, descended from one of the oldest families in Venice, she had married a Mocenigo, a family who had produced a whopping seven Doges for the Venetian Republic, plus she had lived through the Venetian Republic's collapse, through Napoleon, through the Austrian Empire -- all the way through to Lord Byron -- and she kept notes!

For example, after she became lady-in-waiting to Empress Josephine's daughter-in-law, Princess Augusta, this is what she wrote in a letter to her sister, Paolina:

I lead the dullest existence, rushing from my apartment to Court and from Court to my apartment. What does one do at Court? Well, the evenings in which we have Grand cercel (Large Circle) we tend to sit around for about an hour before moving to the gaming room. When the card-playing is over the Princess rises, says a few nice words to us and I run back home as fast as I can. When we have Petit cercle ( Small Circle) only those attached to the Court are invited. The evening usually begins with a session of baby-watching: we crowd around ten-month-old Josephine, Princess of Bologna, as she plays in her pen. Very interesting...

It was educational to read how the family routinely switched loyalties and languages between France and Austria, depending on which was more prudent. Even more enlightening was how intelligent, enterprising and educated Lucia was. In general, Lucia led a lonely existence, since her husband, Alvise, left her alone for long periods of time. She had several miscarriages before they finally produced an heir, a son, Alvisetto, who also died young.

But then, Lucia did something extraordinary -- she fell in love with a dashing, daring Irish-Austrian Colonel with the Hollywood name of Baron Maximilian Plunkett. They began a secret love affair, which produced a secret son! Maximilian died gloriously in a rain of French bullets two days after his son was christened.

Lucia's husband, Alvise, didn't find out for four years; of course, he was furious when he did. But, ultimately, he was pragmatic. Being without an heir himself, he decided to change the boy's name (which was Massimiliano) to Alvise, or Alvisetto (I guess we can call him Alvisetto Due), and turn his wife's lover's son into a Mocenigo. Oh, those wacky aristocrats!

This is from an interview that Andrea did with Robert Murphy for W Magazine:

Most stunningly, perhaps, di Robilant's book blows the cover off a two-hundred-year-old family secret. While examining archives in Venice, he discovered that Lucia's only son to survive infancy, theretofore presumed legitimate, was actually the fruit of an illicit union with an alluring Irish-Austrian officer. "For a long while I wondered why my father had red sideburns," said di Robilant. "Everything that brings out the truth is good. It puts into perspective all this crap about blood and legitimacy. Who would have figured that I was part Irish?"

(That gorgeous image you see of Andrea di Robilant was taken by Pamela Berry.)

UPDATE: November 3, 2020 - During the lockdown, I created #VeniceBooks, an online bookstore on Bookshop.org, a platform which was designed to challenge Amazon's monopoly on book sales and promote independent bookstores. If you buy a book from my bookshop, independent bookstores, Bookshop.org and I receive a percentage of the sale.

 

Ciao from Venice,
#VeniceBooks

Cat Bauer

Venetian Cat - Venice Blog

Goldoni at the Malibran - Now THAT'S Carnival!

(Venice, Italy) Carlo Goldoni was one of Venice's most famous playwrights, and to see a contemporary version of his play, The Impresario from Smyrna, directed by Luca De Fusco at the Malibran Theatre, was a real delight. (The image you see is Eros Pagni and Alvia Reale.) In 1737, Goldoni himself was in charge of the Malibran Theatre (then known as the San Giovanni Grisostomo), where many of his works were performed.

From Wikipedia:

Designed by Thomas Bezzi for the Grimani family, the theatre was inaugurated during the 1678 carnival with Vespasiano by Carlo Pallavicino. It became the biggest, most luxurious and extravagant stage in Venice, known for its sumptuous productions and high quality singers such as Margherita Durastanti, prima donna between 1709 and 1712.

I attended the show with a real, live Venetian:), who was thrilled to watch the ancient words come to life in the ancient venue during Carnevale. The theater itself was packed with many locals; everyone seemed to be having a great time. It was a glorious Venetian oasis, safe from the rowdy crowds out on the streets.

There is a strange phenomenon in Venice this Carnival, and I am not the only one who has noticed it. It is as if there are many different currents flowing through the town, and if you wade into the right stream, it is possible to catch a whiff of genuine Carnevale.

You won't find it around my house, close to Rialto. Over here, there seems to be nothing but loud rock and roll, and masses of drunken youths wandering aimlessly through the calli. Not that I'm against drunken youths -- they are electric when properly confined in arenas:) -- but, to me, it's not what Carnival in Venice is about.

In any event, back to the good folks who brought us such an enjoyable evening. We do have some creative entities in town like La Biennale, The Goldoni Theater, and La Fenice. It was nearly impossible to bring these different organizations together to put on a show, but because of some inspirational leadership, it did happen. At the press conference, we were asked not to forget to mention the money folks at Fondazione Antonveneta, and I have absolutely no problem doing so. The talent was top-rate, and Maurizio Millenotti's costumes and Antonio Fiorentino's sets -- a vivid assortment of different "reds" -- were spectacular. There were even live musicians from La Fenice!

The Antonveneta Foundation is active in cultural, social welfare and scientific research and supports projects initiated by individuals who operate without a profit. http://www.antonveneta.it/media/fondazione-.aspx

I had a little difficulty with the opening because of the rapid Italian exposition and inside Venetian jokes. (My Venetian friend had no problems at all, and laughed throughout the whole show.) The story slowly started coming into focus, however, and soon I realized it included one of my favorite themes, which is: Sneaky Female Tricks and How Otherwise Intelligent Men Succumb to Them. I continue to be astounded by how many smart guys fall for Girly Machinations 101.

An impresario is someone who produces an event; Smyrna is an ancient town in Turkey, and the rivalry between the Turks and Venetians colors the play. I pondered if tourists visiting Venice at Carnival would have enjoyed the show, and have decided yes, because more than that, the show was about: who is the prima donna and are these chicks gonna rip each other's hair out -- a topic always good for a laugh.
Here is an accurate Wikipedia definition:
Originally used in opera companies, "prima donna" is Italian for "first lady". The term was used to designate the leading female singer in the opera company, the person to whom the prime roles would be given. The prima donna was normally, but not necessarily, a soprano. Legendarily, these "prima donnas" (prime donne in Italian) were often regarded as egotistical, unreasonable and irritable, with a rather high opinion of themselves not shared by others. Although whether they are truly more vain or more hot-tempered than other singers (or than any other people in the opera houses) is not substantiated, the term often describes a vain, obnoxious and temperamental person who, although irritating, cannot be done without.[2]
The brilliance of the play was that the prima donna appeared to be a sweet, innocent girl from a good family. While her competitors were more obvious about their machinations, the outstanding Gaia Aprea, who played Lucrezia, took another tact and pretended to be virginal before taking off her mask and ending up in bed with the Count, played by Max Malatesta. The other two competitors, Anita Bartolucci as Tognina and Alvia Reale as Annina, used Gossip, the All-Venetian Weapon, to destroy her. One of the best moments was when Eros Pagni, who played Alì, the Turk who was financing the whole production, said simply, "I'm confused..." It was a classic Venetian scheme, and required watching for any outsider thinking of doing business in town. Even though L'impresario delle Smirne was first produced in Venice in 1761, it still holds up today.
Ciao from Venice, Cat http://venetiancat.blogspot.com/
Teatro Malibran
Saturday February 21 at 8:30 p.m.and from February 22 to March 1
L’impresario delle Smirne [world premiere]
by Carlo Goldoni
directed by Luca De Fusco
original music Nino Rotaadapted by Luca De Fusco, Antonio Di Poficast Eros Pagni (Alì), Alberto Fasoli (Beltrame), Max Malatesta (Conte Lasca) , Paolo Serra (Carluccio), Gaia Aprea (Lucrezia), Enzo Turrin (Nibbio), Anita Bartolucci (Tognina), Piergiorgio Fasolo (Pasqualino), Giovanna Mangiù (Maccario), Alvia Reale (Annina), Matteo Mauri (a servant) clarinet Giorgio Lavorato, viola Marco Albano, piano Antonio Di Poficonductor Antonio Di Pofi
lighting design Emidio Benezzi
sets Antonio Fiorentino
costumes Maurizio Millenotti
production Teatro Stabile del Veneto, Teatro Stabile di Catania, Fondazione Antonveneta
with the support of La Biennale di Venezia
in collaboration with the Fondazione Teatro La Fenice
http://www.labiennale.org/en/theatre/program/2009/en/80539.html

Gimme Some Good, Honest Gambling - Il Ridotto in Venice

Il Ridotto by Petro Longhi

(Venice, Italy) That image you see is Pietro Longhi's (November 5, 1701 - May 8, 1785) painting of Il Ridotto. The white mask that both the men and women are wearing is called a "bauta," and is a classic Venetian mask, and was worn not only during Carnival, but also to outings, such as the opera.

The small black oval mask that only the women are wearing is called a "moretta." The moretta was kept in place by a button that the women bit with their teeth, so they could not speak. They had to use their eyes to communicate.

From Giacomo Casanova's A History of My Life:

She would, perhaps, have answered me if she could, but with a mask of this kind it is impossible to speak a word. Still, she said a great deal with a squeeze of her hand, which no one could see. ...

What was Il Ridotto?

From David G. Schwartz, Ph.D.
Center for Gaming Research
University of Nevada Las Vegas:

ridotto = ridurre, to reduce, close, or make private
Originally aristocratic gathering places for social games

"Today, casino gaming is a multi-billion dollar per year worldwide industry. Though gambling is as old as humanity, until the 15th century social gambling—games played among peers at equal odds—predominated. But around that time, paralleling the emergence of banks and modern finance, a new type of gambling emerged: mercantile gambling. Mercantile gamblers offered their customers games that featured a built-in discrepancy between true odds and payouts, or statistical imbalances that favored the house.

These mercantile games (known today as bank games) started with the lottery but soon grew to include card and dice games. The pioneers of mercantile gambling unleashed a two-fold revolution: they made possible the pursuit of gambling as an honest profession, and they set the stage for public interest gambling, in which a portion of gambling revenues are redirected towards the public good.

In 1638, the Venetian Great Council took the revolutionary step of creating a legal, licensed “ridotto” in which the public could play mercantile games against the house. Though this “experiment” only lasted 136 years, it was the ancestor of today’s casino industry."

David Schwartz has written extensively on the subject of gambling. To visit his website, click here:

Il Ridotto was not only about gambling. It was a place to socialize, talk (if you weren't wearing a moretta:) and basically... hang out. It was like a salon, only more public, yet still private. The masks added an air of not just anonymity, but it reduced (il ridotto means "the reduced") human beings right down to their core.

From the Ridotto website, a musical organization in New York founded by Dutch woman, Margaretha Maimone:

In the city of Venice, a wealthy upper class socialized not only in their homes, but also in theatres and the adjacent ridotti. The ridotto was a space behind the theatres, much like a foyer, where visitors of all layers of society mingled and engaged in discussion, gambling, or other spirited forms of entertainment. Most visitors wore masks. It was the famous black and white bauta which made recognition virtually impossible.

In the late 18th century all ridotti were closed by the Doge of Venice on the suspicion of conspiracy, only to be re-opened as state-run casinos. All profits now went to the impoverished Republic.

That image, which has nothing to do with Ridotto.org except for the Dutch association in my brain, is a painting by Pietro Guardi illustrating Clara the rhinoceros, brought to town by a Dutch sea captain named Douvemont van der Meer (1741).

Click to go to the site:

http://www.ridotto.org/rijourney.html

Here in Venice, in 2007, our own Casinò got into the act. From an article in the UK Telegraph, by Malcolm Moore, entitled Fireworks as Venice sells off its Carnival:

The plan to transfer Venice's pomp and pageantry into private hands was drawn up by the mayor, Massimo Cacciari, and the casino, which last year under-wrote much of the €1.4 million (£1m) cost of the carnival.

The city hopes that privatisation will improve the running of the events and draw lucrative corporate sponsorship. "The job of the company," said Mauro Pizzigati, the head of the casino, "will be to organise the events and find sponsors. Sponsors will have at their disposal rooms at the best hotels for their guests, tickets, exclusive tables and deals with the casino. We have already had contact from some big names."

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/1560046/Fireworks-as-Venice-sells-off-its-carnival.html

These days, in the middle of the worst financial crisis in recent history, it is interesting to note that the new governor of Illinois, Roland Burris, who filled Barack Obama's seat, also has an interest in gambling. He was on the board of the National Center for Responsible Gaming.

From Wikipedia:

"The National Center for Responsible Gaming (NCRG) is an American nonprofit group, associated with Harvard University, that funds scientific research on gambling addiction.[1] It was founded in 1996.[2] The group is a wing of the American Gaming Association, the casino industry's main trade group.[1]

The NCRG founded the Institute for Research on Pathological Gambling and Related Disorders (IRPGRD) in 2000. While housed at an institution affiliated with Harvard, the IRPGRD remains dependent on casino funding, channeled through the NCRG. This arrangement has led some critics to question the independence of the IRPGRD's research.[3] IRPGRD executive director Christine Reilly told Salon.com that the institute's contract with the NCRG stipulates that the industry not interfere with its work."

Senator Burris has got his eye firmly on the tomb. He has already built his mausoleum:

"Burris has built a mausoleum for himself and his family in Oak Woods Cemetery on Chicago's South Side. His tombstone proclaims, "Trail Blazer," and includes a list of his accomplishments, with space left for future ones.[3][4]"

Just last week, Democratic Congressman Barney Frank, who is openly gay and also thinks we should be gambling a lot more than we do, is pushing forward with internet gambling legislation. From the February 4, 2009 Poker News Daily:

"In an interview with the Financial Times this week, it was revealed that Congressman Barney Frank (D-MA) will reintroduce legislation favorable to internet gambling “in the next few weeks.” During the previous Congress, Frank introduced HR 2046, the Internet Gambling Regulation and Enforcement Act, which established a full licensing and regulatory framework for the industry in the United States."

I don't know if it's just me, but something about the desperate situation we find ourselves in these days reminds me of Islamic suicide bombers promised virgins in heaven. Gambling online with a computer is just not the same as getting all dolled up in a bauta and matching wits with other human beings.

Venetian Cat has formulated its own Financial Crisis Recovery Plan. In addition to bailing out Banks and Other Industries, I propose that we give each and every one of us here on the planet about 500 bucks with the stipulation that WE MUST GAMBLE WITH THE MONEY.

It would be a very interesting social experiment. Think of the possibilities! An impoverished family in Africa dying of AIDS strikes it rich and can afford treatment. A poor, brilliant teenager in Oklahoma who has given up all chances to go to university hits the jackpot. An Honest Man, Anytown, Anywhere, who has worked his Entire Life and paid All His Bills but Just Can't Keep Up and is About To Blow His Brains Out wins enough to keep his house.

Then, perhaps, everyone will at least have the illusion that they are in The Game.

Now, where, oh where is my moretta?

Ciao from Venice,
Cat Bauer
Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog

Pulcinella Goes to Hollywood & La Biennale Dances

(Venice, Italy) Igor Stravinsky, the composer, is buried here in Venice on the Island of San Michele. Close to his tomb is the grave of Sergei Diaghilev, founder of the Russian Ballet. Together they collaborated on the ballet, Pulcinella, which premiered in Paris on May 15, 1920, choreography and libretto by the dancer, Leonid Myasin; costumes and sets by the artist, Pablo Picasso. That ballet, Pulcinella, based on a stock character from the Commedia dell'arte, merged music, dance, theater, art and (in a way) architecture, in the form of set design.

Who is Pulcinella? Here is a quirky English translation from The Pulcinella Museum website:

To Pulcinella are attributed magical powers. In Naples are sold little Pulcinella-statues from painted terra cotta. They serve as bringers of good luck. In Christmas-time they are placed in the stable, between the shepherds and the Magi. At discussions about the nature of Pulcinella is often brought to the fore that he resembles Christ - because he is a scape-goat and redeemer - but that he has a diabolic side as well. Pulcinella is also compared with certain gods from the Hellenistic antiquity, especially with the Greek God Hermes, because Pulcinella is, like Hermes, a companion of souls, and because he is the union of oppositions: life and death, masculine and feminine, old and young, wisdom and foolishness, etc.. Pulcinella is even called ‘the modern prosecution of Hermes’.


Click to find out more about the Pulcinella Museum, which is located in the Baronial Castle that once belonged to the Earls of Acerra:

http://www.pulcinellamuseo.it/museo/eng/index.php

I thought about Pulcinella the other day when I was at the La Biennale press conference inside the beautifully restored palazzo, Ca’ Giustinian, La Biennale's historic home. For those of you who don't know, La Biennale is an internationally renowned organization here in Venice featuring contemporary Art, Cinema, Theater, Dance, Music and Architecture under one vibrant umbrella. The restoration only took about two and a half years -- proof that mutual respect and cooperation are possible here in our Byzantine village, allowing everyone to get down to the real work at hand. Walking into La Biennale is like stepping into another dimension where creativity is valued and conversation is open and dynamic.


The press conference presented the Dance portion of La Biennale, and two men I greatly admire were the speakers: Paolo Baratta, the President of La Biennale, and Ismael Ivo, the Director of the Dance. If you're a regular reader of Venetian Cat - Venice Blog, you know I've spoken about them before.


The three year project is Grado Zero, or Zero Degree, and opens a new chapter in La Biennale's aim to lead dance into the future. With performances, master classes and projects for young people, La Biennale hopes to attract dancers from all over the world. Sound ambitious? Well, with Ismael Ivo at the helm, anything is possible. He is an energetic speaker, brimming with tremendous energy -- he is a bit like Barack Obama, and not just because he's black -- Ismael was in my environment long before Barack, and his enthusiam is for dance, not politics:) I had the opportunity to speak to Ismael after the conference, and by the end of the conversation, we were hugging each other and saying, "Yes, we can!" From La Biennale website:


The 'Arsenale della Danza' pilot project
The project invites dancers to attend an intensive research workshop. A three-month program with daily sessions run by masters who will prepare attendees to implement ideas, images and visions of the performer's art. The project is aimed at candidates with a solid basic education, skills and experience, who wish to professionally improve themselves in contemporary dance. Auditions will take place on 13th and 14th March 2009. The Arsenale Dance project will run 30th March to 30th June 2009.

To go to La Biennale's website, please click here:

http://www.labiennale.org/en/dance/

Maurizio Scaparro, the Director of the Theater section of La Biennale was also in attendance, and I had the opportunity to speak with him, too. Back in November, I promised I would let you know about the Hollywood screening of his film, L'Ultimo Pulcinella. There was all sorts of uproar over here when Gomorra was not nominated for Best Foreign Language Film. Well, I saw both L'Ultimo Pulcinella and Gomorra, and I thought L'Ultimo Pulcinella was riveting. I know that Gomorra has made it on to many critics "best" lists, but I am wondering if it's not more a matter of distribution.

In any event, those of you in Los Angeles will have the opportunity to judge for yourselves during
Los Angeles, Italia, a Film, Fashion and Art Fest taking place at the Manns Chinese 6 Theater in Hollywood on February 15 to 21. When I left Hollywood back in 1998, the redevelopment was just starting; the last time I was there was in 2006, and it was completely transformed, yet still retained some of its decadent charm. In fact, Hollywood sort of reminds me of Venice, and guess who is one of the sponsors? The Casinò di Venezia! And the entire stew reminds me of Pulcinella, with light and dark, life and death, the union of opposites, the resurrection...


L'Ultimo Pulcinella, a film which also combines the elements of Art, Theater, Dance, Music and Architecture into a dramatic statement, is screening on Friday, February 20th at 9:45PM. Maurizio Scaparra will not be there because he will be here with us in Venice, since he is also the Director of La Biennale Theater, which opens that same night with Le Sorelle Bronte directed by David Livermore at the Goldoni Theatre -- you can judge by Maurizio's level of activity how much talent the man is packing. However, those of you in Hollywood will be treated to the star, Massimo Ranieri, in person, as well as enjoying his powerful performance in the film. Admission is free, and there are all sorts of other great films like Il Postino and The Talented Mr. Ripley.

Los Angeles, Italia. Honoring Honoring the Italian Masters of Cinematic Art Vittorio De Sica, Federico Fellini, Gillo Pontecorvo and legendary Producer Franco Cristaldi. Special tributes to director Pupi Avati and showmen Christian De Sica and Massimo Ranieri. Tribute to ANTHONY MINGHELLA.

Click to go to the Los Angeles, Italia website:
http://www.losangelesitalia.com/

Ciao from Venice,
Cat
Venetian Cat - Venice Blog
http://venetiancat.blogspot.com/

Carnival of Venice - The Magic Returns with Incentive Harmony

Click HERE to go to Incentive Harmony Venice Carnival 2015.

(Venice, Italy) A masked woman steps from her gondola and into the Venetian mist. Flickering candlelight illumines the silhouette of a man waiting at the palazzo door. They embrace, and journey up the red carpet, into a world of intrigue and romance...

A scene from Casanova's memoirs? No -- it's Carnival time in Venice! This year Carnevale runs from Friday, February 13th through February 24th, ending on Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, or Martedì Grasso.

Nicolas and Jean Benedict Arnita, the owners of Incentive Harmony, have been conjuring up Carnevale balls in Venice for more than a decade. Originally from Paris, they are wizards at keeping their love affair with La Serenissima vibrant and alive. This year they are offering eight elegant events at the 14th century Gothic Palazzo Pesaro Papafava, all with an historic theme.

I first met Nicolas and Jean Benedict back in 2001 when I featured their exclusive event-planning company in a story for the IHT-Italy Daily. Since that time, they have seen the likes of the Arvind Singh Mewar, the Maharana of Udaipur, and highest ranking member of the Rajput royal ancestry, cross their threshold -- apparently the Maharana has also fallen in love with Venice as it reminds him of Udaipur, and his palace on the lake:) Together, Nicolas and the Maharana presented the royal exhibition, the Treasure of the Maharaja, here in Italy with Santi Choudhary, a descendent of the original jeweler. Like the Arnitas, the Maharana is dedicated to promoting historic and responsible tourism, not only with his own properties, but across the globe. His Royal Highness couldn't attend the festivities last year, but the Arnitas have high hopes he'll be able to squeeze in a Ball or two this time around.

To kick things off, on Valentines Day, Saturday, February 14th, the theme of the Gran Ballo della Serenissima is "Love Duet," inspired by Romeo & Juliet, the renowned lovers from Verona, a town that was once part of the Venetian Republic. Throughout the evening, the most famous lyric operas will be performed, such as La Traviata, Il Barbiere di Siviglia and La Bohéme. The wine will flow as costumed guests enjoy a gala dinner, and then dance until dawn.

Woven throughout the twelve days of Carnival, the Arnitas will host seven additional events...

Please click to continue reading:
http://venetiancat-incentiveharmony.blogspot.com/

Incentive Harmony of Nicolas Arnita would like to express its great appreciation for the fresh vision and collaboration between the major organizations of the Comune, the Province and the Region, and all its residents, Veneziani di Cuore.

Viva La Serenissima!

Views on Venice - Rent a Palace... or an Apartment

Palazzo Loredan dell'Ambasciatore - Photo: David Nicholls

(Venice, Italy) Palazzo Loredan dell'Ambasciatore is a 15th-century Gothic palace that once belonged to the noble Loredan family. It was called "dell'ambasciatore" because it was the home of the ambassadors of the Austrian Empire to the Republic.

One Loredan ancestor, Antonio, was the adminstrator of Corfu who defeated the Turks in 1716, together with Count Johann Matthias von der Schulenburg, a Saxon general. After the battle, Count Schulenburg set up house inside the Loredan Palace, along with twenty-five members of his entourage and four gondoliers, and was known for his illustrious dinner parties and admirable art collection.

In 1752, another ancestor, Francesco Loredan, who also happened to be the Doge, offered the palazzo as a residence for the Ambassador of the Holy Roman Empire in exchange for twenty-nine years of restorations. Even in those days, a Venetian palace was costly to maintain!

The first Imperial Ambassador to live there was Count Philip Joseph Orsini-Rosenberg. If you have read Andrea di Robilant's book, A Venetian Affair, about the intriguing letters exchanged by Andrea's ancestors, you will remember that one of Count Rosenberg's claims to fame was his marriage in his vintage years to the vibrant Giustiniana Wynne -- her passionate love affair with Andrea Memmo was the topic of that book.

In fact, another friend, Ian Kelly, has written a new biography called Casanova in which Giustiniana Wynne is also featured. Ian has dug up even more riveting details about that fascinating woman who, after discovering she was pregnant with Andrea Memmo's child, ran off to Paris to ask Giocomo Casanova for help. She married Count Rosenberg years later when she discovered that Andrea Memmo was in love with another woman. Imagine, after more than 250 years, people are still curious about Giustiniana -- and Venice's grand intrigues.

Venice is like a theatrical production, one that has been going on for centuries. The set remains almost the same, as do many of the characters -- shopkeepers and gondoliers, fishmongers and aristocrats -- each playing their particular role. Great minds built this city; their thoughts still permeate the air. Memories linger on silk wall coverings and dangle from Ca' Rezzonico chandeliers. Footsteps from centuries ago have left their imprint on the pebbled Venetian pavimento. Every living space comes with a story, one that you can step into, or one you create yourself.

These days, the Palazzo dell'Ambasciatore is owned by the Gaggia family. The grandmother of Filippo Gaggia used to entertain in the piano nobile you see, which is called Ca' Cerchieri.




Filippo Gaggia is now one of the owners of Views on Venice, one of the most prestigious short-term rental agencies in town. More importantly...
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British Pantomime in Venice - Panto Venezia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

UPDATE February 9, 2016: I, Cat Bauer, have no association whatsoever with the group formerly known as "Pantalon Players," which now appears to be going by the name of "Panto Venezia," and apparently continues to perform in Venice at a different location after they lost the theater Auditorium Santa Margherita, the last place I performed with the group in 2008.

I have not had any association with the group since I was fired as Cinderella for writing a blog post about having been physically assaulted by John-Henry Bowden, the former chaplain of the Anglican Church here in Venice, which you can read here.

After many years, huge expense and extreme physical and emotional abuse, I won a series of legal actions, both civil and criminal, and wish to distance myself from any activities on the part of this group. As in any organization, the group contained upstanding members as well as those of questionable character, but I do not want a positive post I wrote seven years ago to be interpreted as an endorsement today.

It is an outrage that Megan H. Jones, "US Consulate Agent" was at the last fundraiser, and it is an outrage the group continues to try to impose itself on a city that does not want them here.

Here is the original post:

(Venice, Italy) Sometimes in January, some distinguished and sophisticated ex-pats here in Venice lose their minds and perform a bizarre form of entertainment called British pantomime, or panto for short. This is a very popular form of family entertainment in the United Kingdom, with lots of cross-dressing and hissing and booing, but many Americans have never heard of it, and confuse it with the silence of mime. Well, let's get enlightened right now!

From Wikipedia:

"The style and content of modern pantomime have very clear and strong links with the Commedia dell'arte, a form of popular theatre that arose in Italy in the Early Modern Period, and which reached England by the 16th century. A 'comedy of professional artists' travelling from province to province in Italy and then France, they improvised and told stories which told lessons to the crowd and changed the main character depending on where they were performing...

The leading male juvenile character (the 'principal boy') - is traditionally played by a young woman, and usually in tight-fitting male garments (such as breeches) that make her female charms evident.

An older woman (the pantomime dame - often the hero's mother) is usually played by a man in drag.

Risqué double entendre, often wringing innuendo out of perfectly innocent phrases. This is, in theory, over the heads of the children in the audience.

Audience participation, including calls of "Look behind you!" (or "He's behind you!"), and "Oh, yes it is!" and "Oh, no it isn't!" The audience is always encouraged to boo the villain and "awwwww" the poor victims, such as the rejected dame, who usually fancies the prince.

A song combining a well-known tune with re-written lyrics. The audience is encouraged to sing the song; often one half of the audience is challenged to sing 'their' chorus louder than the other half. ..."

To read the entire Wikipedia article, click here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pantomime

The Pantalon Players (as we now call ourselves) first performed Aladdin many years ago inside a convent, curious nuns poking their heads in to watch the show. I was the Principal Boy back then, Aladdin the Gondolier, and I wore a gondolier's shirt and hat, but with a short skirt and heels. The genie was John Francis Phillimore, the owner of Old World Books, the rare book shop near the Ghetto, and Jonathan Fox, wearing big bloomers and speaking in falsetto, was my mother.

Then we took a long break -- several years -- and opened again with Mother Goose at the auditorium in Campo Santa Margherita. Again I was the principal boy, Robin Goodsort, a poor but kind-hearted woodcutter, this time with short shorts and Spanish leather boots.

 

First they tried to get me to use a real axe, but we are not allowed to have real weapons here in the Magic Kingdom, and the axe was confiscated immediately by my Venetian ex-moroso when I went out on the street. So, Howard Fitzpatrick (who owns Venice Art Tours), and is also married to the writer and director of the panto, the novelist, Laurie Graham, kindly made me the fake one that I am wielding in that image opposite Fairy Stinkweed, played by Peter Page, the jewelry designer. The evil count was played by the Anglican Chaplain, John-Henry Bowden, and the money we raised went to help restore the roof of the Anglican Church.

Last year, we performed Dick Whittington, and I was the Good Fairy Bow Bells, which was quite a difficult part to play since one of my wings was bent. Dick Whittington is about a rat-catcher that grows up to become Lord Mayor of London, and was our greatest success.

The rats were played by local Venetian kids. The singer, Rosemary Forbes-Butler, stepped in at the last moment due to the Principal Boy's pregnancy complications, and did an amazing job as Dick Whittington him/herself. We raised almost €3,000 Euro for Care & Share Italia, a charity working with the most disadvantaged of children in southern India, and this was our great reward:

This year we are exhausted by the Financial Crisis, the Aqua Granda, and the General Tumult in the World Today, so there will be no performance:) Seriously, we planned last year not to perform this year, so we must have had a premonition. In any event, we will have a performance in 2010, and the show will be the greatest and most ambitious production ever: CINDERELLA!

We are actually planning in advance this time, and we are looking to You, Dear Readers, for your donations so we can put on a Really Good Show. If you are in Venice, there are all sorts of exciting fund raisers -- on New Year's Day there was a bacon and egg brunch, and at the raffle I won a bottle of Glenfiddich, the first bottle of Scotch I have ever owned in my life! If you are not in Venice, there are many ways you can participate from afar.

To read Laurie Graham's very clever (and better) explanation of how we came into existence, and how to contribute, please click here:

http://www.venice-art-tours.com/panto1.htm

Here is an example of one star-studded cast:

MOTHER GOOSE

Written & Directed by Laurie Graham

CAST

Narrator - Jeremy Magorian

Mother Goose - Jonathan Fox
Daisy May - Judith Asher

Silly Billy - Sandra Fox

Robin Goodsort - Cat Bauer

Sir Jasper Grasper - John-Henry Bowden

Terry Bull - Frank O'Halloran

Harry Bull - Howard Fitzpatrick

Fairy Stinkwood - Peter Page

Fairy Foxglove - Noelle Rimmington

Goosey Lucy - Elaine Eliah

Attila the Hen - Elizabeth Leckie

Make-up - Liesl Odenweller

Music Director - Sidney Stires

Choreography - Ferruccio Berolo

Sets - Jane Gorlin

Stage Manager - Louise Andrew

Light & Sound - Marilyn Bowden & Tony Bird

Miss Bauer's Day Wear by Sete-Cento: http://www.sete-cento.com/

Mr. Page's costume by Leone Dooré

Ms. Eliah's plumage by Lynn Lazzarini & Christine Conway Morris

Benefits for the roof repair fund of St. George's Anglican Church, Venice

Ciao from Venice,

Cat

http://venetiancat.blogspot.com/

Buona Befana! The Befana Regata and Epiphany in Venice

Befane in Venice

(Venice, Italy) The Epiphany, or the Twelfth Day of Christmas, on January 6th is a national holiday in Italy. It is also the day of La Befana, a witch who hands out candy and gifts for good children, and coal for bad children, similar to Santa Claus.

In Venice, the holiday has morphed into something truly unique. During the Regata delle Befane, male Venetian rowers dress in drag as female witches, and have a little regata, or race. The finish line is below my apartment, so I usually have a Befana party to close the holiday season. No one ever seems to know, exactly, what time the race starts or finishes. Some posters from the Comune said to go over to the fish market at 11:30AM for hot mulled wine and sweets, so I thought 11AM would be a good time for the party. It turned out it was too late. Note to self: the Befana regata celebration starts at 10AM!

A Venetian chorus started singing Venetian songs at the foot of the Rialto Bridge at about 10AM, so I called the documentary filmmaker Anny Cararro and told her to come earlier because she wanted to shoot some footage. We started getting all teary-eyed listening to the songs. For me, the Befana regata is one of the most Venetian holidays because the Venetians really run the show. The acoustics are very particular at the foot of the Rialto Bridge, and the voices of the chorus soared over the Grand Canal, echoing off the palazzi and skipping across the water. An enormous stocking is hung from the top of the Rialto Bridge, and with the men rowing frantically dressed as women... well, you can only imagine.

One year, I spent La Befana in the Veneto on the mainland, and out there they burned her image, sort of like a scarecrow/witch, in a huge bonfire. She then resurrected into human form and handed out sweets or coal, and then later the children went in and sat on her lap while the adults munched on traditional sweets and drank hot mulled wine.

The Twelfth Day of Christmas, or the Epiphany, is celebrated to commemorate the day the Three Magi arrived with their gifts for the infant Jesus. How did a witch get involved with that?

According to Wikipedia, La Befana may have pagan origins, and since many Christian holidays and images can trace their origins back before the Church got involved, I am putting my money on that theory. La Befana feels pagan:

A popular belief is that her name derives from the festival of Epiphany, but there is evidence to suggest that Befana is descended from the Sabine/Roman goddess named Strina. In the book Vestiges of Ancient Manners and Customs, Discoverable in Modern Italy and Sicily by Rev. John J. Blunt (John Murray, 1823), the author says:

"This Befana appears to be heir at law of a certain heathen goddess called Strenia, who presided over the new-year's gifts, 'Strenae,' from which, indeed, she derived her name. (D. Augustin. de Civit. Dei, lib. iv. c. 16.) Her presents were of the same description as those of the Befana—figs, dates, and honey. (Ov. Fast. i. 185.) Moreover her solemnities were vigorously opposed by the early Christians on account of their noisy, riotous, and licentious character" (Vide Rosini, ed. Dempster. lib. i. c.13, de Dea Strenia}. – page 120

To read the entire article, go to Wikipedia:

In any event, I would like to thank my guests for their excellent conversation and generosity in creating a spectacular table. Each person contributed something, so we had lasagna, salad, mushrooms, cheeses and plenty of fine wine, panettone and chocolates!

Ciao from Venice,
Cat
Venetian Cat - Venice Blog

Venice at the New Year

Photo: Roberto Silva

(Venice, Italy) That image of an angel was taken by an old friend, the photographer, Roberto Silva. He also took my author's photo, the same one you see here on my blog. I don't really look like that any more; it was taken about three years ago. The sweater, however, is the same.

Today, on New Year's Day, January 1, 2009, I wore that same bright green sweater to a brunch.

Cat Bauer - Photo by Roberto Silva - ©Cat Bauer

The photo that ended up in Harley's Ninth is actually the second photo we took. Roberto and I re-shot the author's photo because the first coverflap looked too sad -- there were all sorts of tragedies at that point in time, reflected in my face -- and Knopf kindly allowed me to redo it. In fact, they kindly allowed me to have a photo in the first place, because they usually don't do that for my genre.

I love Roberto's photos because he captures souls, even the soul of a statue or a building. I also love Roberto because we have the same birthday, July 27. We are both Leos, and sometimes we have thunderous disagreements.

Photo: Roberto Silva

It snowed last night in Venice. I was exiting the Goldoni Theatre, where I had just seen Cirk, a theatrical production directed by the Dutch Ted Keijser, and flakes were starting to come down. That is not a photo from last night, but it is a Roberto Silva photo, and it has snow.

To see more of Roberto's work go here:

http://www.robertosilva.net/
(Update 12/20/13 - Roberto has let that domain expire - 12/22/19 apparently someone else named Roberto Silva has taken the domain.)

I ended up at Cirk because of New Year's Eve Venetian shenanigans. I was not in the mood to play, and decided at the last minute to change my plans. So, about 5pm, I thought, what shall I do tonight?

Just like a movie, I saw the poster for CIRK at the Goldoni Theatre. It was a Pantakin production. All sorts of bells and whistles went off in my brain, because many years ago, I had written about the Pantakin production of Ombra di Luna for the International Herald Tribune's Italy Daily. It was one of my most difficult pieces to write; in fact, I almost gave up, but it ended up being one of the stories I like the best.

The ensemble of Ombra di Luna, or Moon Shadow, challenges the idea of what, exactly, constitutes a circus. Inside a tent at the Port of Venice, smoldering campfires peek out from behind a forest of trees. Painted stars illuminate the ceiling. There is a rumble, and the skeleton of a ship is carried into the ring. Instead of a ringmaster cracking a whip, the host for the evening is a squawking bird wearing a mask in the role of a clown inspired by the Commedia de l'arte. As the evening progresses, elements of folk theater, acrobatics, dance, contortion, music, juggling and improvisation are hung loosely together on the ancient Sumerian myth of Gilgamesh, the seeker who was one-third man and two-thirds god.

Ah! Those were the days, my friends. I can't imagine writing like that for a newspaper at this point in time (I'm sure some of you are thinking: thank god for that!:). In any event, I made a phone call, and was fortunate to score a ticket to Cirk at the last moment -- the theater was packed.

Beppe "Sipy" Tenenti - Cirk

Cirk is similar to Ombra di Luna, only the story is loosely about a missing elephant instead of being loosely about Gilgamesh. None of the players are the same as in Ombra, but the spirit of Pantakin is the pillar.

That image you see is Beppe "Sipy" Tenenti juggling, um... elephant dung. It was so bizarre, funky, and out there... but there was something about it that was very human... honest and sincere.

The stand-out in the show was Emmanuelle Annoni, a coquettish colt with a sense of humor, a daring, focused talent, and very flexible bones. Not so easy to feign sleep on a tightrope!

As usual, I am having a problem with my embedding, so here is the YouTube link for the three minute promo. It is very... European, and will give you a nice taste of the difference between cultures -- my voice is very American, and so it seems familiar, but my backdrop is most definitely European:

After the show, I wandered into Piazza San Marco, but was not impressed, so I went home. As the people on the streets became drunk and starting breaking bottles and exploding firecrackers, I watched the fireworks from my balcony as the snow came down.

I put my speakers outside and blasted Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 over the Grand Canal, Arturo Toscanini leading Vladimir Horowitz with the NBC Symphony Orchestra, a recording from Carnegie Hall in 1943. It was a beautiful image, the tumbling snow, the fireworks over the palazzi and the people gathered on the Rialto Bridge, listening to the music.

Happy New Year from Venice,
Cat Bauer
Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog


*UPDATE 12-20-2013 - Once again I've tried to fix the formatting on this post, with a little success. 
*UPDATE 4-21-2016 - Again tried to fix formatting. It's almost the way I want it.