Miracle at Easter - Pasquetta in the Veneto, 2012

Maria Grazie After the Loss of her Stillborn Colt

(Venice, Italy) For Easter, I was in the Veneto countryside. There is a group of horses in the fields near the villa where I stay -- six mares, one stallion and one filly. When I first met them in March, three of the horses came close to the wooden and barbed-wire fence so I could stroke them and chat with them -- the most impressive was the stallion, who was quite a flirt. On the morning of Easter Sunday, they were far away in the distance, so I didn't realize one of the mares was pregnant.

Horses on Easter Sunday

After feasting on lamb and local wine on Easter evening, I returned to see the horses on the morning of La Pasquetta, Easter Monday, which is also a public holiday here in Italy, a day to visit with family and friends. This time I came prepared with a pocketful of sugar. 

I don't know much about horses except I like to ride them, and seem to have an affinity with them. I talk to them, and they respond with affection. (Apparently I also have natural goat-herding skills, but that is another story.) But I don't know how to saddle horses, or groom horses, and I certainly don't know anything about the complications arising from the birth of a stillborn foal.

Unpaved gravel road

When I arrived on Easter Monday about 9:00AM, I saw one of the mares lying on her side up on the hill where the hay was. The leg of a foal protruded from her vulva. First I thought I was about to witness a birth on Easter Monday! A miracle! Then I realized that the leg was limp and lifeless, and, instead, I was in the middle of a tragedy. 

The mare was struggling to push the dead foal out of her body, and she was suffering. The other horses ignored her, more concerned with munching on hay. I looked around for help, and slowly realized there was no one there but me. I was out in the middle of sprawling vineyards and rolling hills, on a one-lane local gravel road, completely alone except for the cocker spaniel who had joined me for a walk.

Now you are going to have to use your imaginations because at that point I was there without a camera. Even if I had one, I don't know if I would have taken photos because what happened next was so tragic, yet ultimately inspiring. All the photos you see were taken before and after the event.

Eventually, a car came down the road and stopped a short distance away. Two nicely-dressed women got out, and I approached them. I told them what was happening. They were as bewildered as I was. I remembered I had a friend who knew about horses. I called her, but her phone was closed. We decided that the women would drive to town and see if they could find someone to help while I stayed there with the horse, who, by that time, I had named Maria Grazie, which means "Thank you, Mary," after the mother of Jesus Christ. After all, it was Easter and I had to be optimistic.

Hay where Maria Grazie was on her side

There was a space in the fence, and I slipped through. I sloshed through the mud and the horse droppings up to the hay where Maria Grazie lay suffering on her side. This seemed to inspire her, and somehow she managed to struggle onto her feet, the dead foal dangling from her vulva. She tried to push the baby out while standing up. She pushed and strained, but the foal didn't budge. I stroked her neck and and belly. I put my face against her neck. She was cold and trembling, and I started to worry that she was going to die if she didn't get the dead foal out of her body soon. I gave her some sugar, and she licked my hand. The sugar seemed to give her some energy.

A group of hikers came up the gravel road, and I called out to them for help. Two men slipped and slid up to the haystack. They grabbed the hoof of the baby, and managed to get another leg out of the vulva, along with a bit of the head. Now the foal had a face, its tongue lolling out of its mouth; it was most definitely dead. They told me to hold Maria Grazie's head because she seemed to respond to me while they pulled from the rear. I cooed and comforted her in English. "Brave Mama. Good girl. Strong girl. You can do it. Push, push, push." The men said (in Italian, of course), "We don't think she speaks English." I said, "Lei parla la lingua del cuore." "She speaks the language of the heart." 

Similar Tractor

A loud engine rumbled in the distance and a tractor appeared on the scene. "Finally," we said. "A professional!" A man dressed in overalls climbed out, the only one of us dressed for the occasion -- remember, it was Easter Monday, a day for family, friends and fun -- certainly no one expected to save the life of a mare that morning. The man had a rope, which he tied around the mare's head. One man held the rope, while the other two pulled from behind. Maria Grazie, exhausted, pushed with all her might. The dead foal did not budge another inch. Maria Grazie started slipping down the hill toward the wooden and barbed-wire fence with each push.

We started hollering that we needed a veterinarian. Phone calls were made. Hikers and bikers out for an Easter Monday cruise stopped to watch the scene. A small crowd started to form. Confusion. The man dressed in overalls jumped back on the tractor and drove down the hill. More confusion. More men arrived and I got out of the way. Soon there were three men holding onto Maria Grazie's head while three other men pulled from behind. Maria Grazie slipped further and further down the hill until she arrived near the wooden, barbed-wire fence and collapsed onto her side. Now I was worried that she was going to cut up her back, in addition to the strain of pushing out the baby. I did my best to keep the barbed-wire from pressing into her skin.

Fence repaired with rope where Maria Grazie collapsed

The six men pushed and pulled with all their might, and, finally, the dead foal slid out up to its waist. The men drooped. The effort seemed to have taken all their strength. I yelled, "Harder! Don't give up!" At that moment, the tractor arrived again. The man in overalls climbed out; he seemed to have been given new instructions. He opened the fence. He drove the tractor in, put it in reverse and backed up. He jumped out. He tied one end of the rope to the legs of the dead foal, and the other end to the tractor itself. I gasped. He climbed back into the tractor. "Slowly! Slowly! Gently!" I yelled. He backed the tractor up very slowly, and the dead foal was wrenched out of Maria Grazie's womb. It was a full grown foal, completely formed, including a mane and tail, dead on the ground. "Is it masculine or feminine?" I asked. The answer came back: "Masculine."

Maria Grazie was exhausted, lying on her side, one leg extended at a dangerous angle, but with her head up. She slowly, sadly turned her head back over her shoulder, as if it were a great effort. She forced herself to look at her dead son lying on the ground. And then she turned her head to face forward again. I could feel her grief.

The man in overalls scooped the dead colt up in the mouth of the tractor. He backed up and drove the tractor out, hopped out of the tractor and closed the fence. He took the rope that was used to extract the colt, and tied it around the wooden fence where it had broken when Maria Grazie had collapsed. Somehow, Maria Grazie managed to struggle to her feet.

And then everybody left. Just like that. No one remained except for me and one man who had arrived in a white truck. He lit a cigarette. I asked for one, which he gave me. He told me he had taken a wrong turn and had ended up in the middle of the scene. We watched as Maria Grazie struggled to walk up the hill toward the hay. She made it half-way up, and then stopped, seemingly unable to take another step forward. The other horses ignored her.

The Stallion

"You'd think the other horses would comfort her," I said. "You'd think they would at least give her a kiss." At the moment I said that, the stallion ripped off a mouthful of hay. He walked down the hill and approached Maria Grazie, his little filly (the daughter of a different horse), following behind him. He put his mouth next to Maria Grazie's mouth, offering her the hay, but she rejected his gesture. The man said, "She's mad at him for putting her through this." The stallion and the filly went back up to the haystack and continued eating, leaving Maria Grazie all alone, halfway up the hill, unable to take another step.

"She can't stay there," said the man. Now I became alarmed again. "She can't stay there. She's got to get back to the top. I'm going back in." I slipped through the fence again, and sloshed over to Maria Grazie. I touched her. She was cold and trembling hard and seemed disoriented. 

"Marie Grazie. Marie Grazie. Listen to me. You have got to be strong. You have got to go to the top of the hill or you will collapse again." She didn't move. I took the sugar out of my pocket. I stood a distance away from her, up the hill. "Come here, Maria Grazie. Come and get the sugar." Marie Grazie looked at me, but didn't move, as if the distance was too great. I moved closer to her, but still too far away for her to reach the sugar. "Come on, Mama. Come on. You can do it." Maria Grazie gathered her energy. She took a couple of steps toward me, up the hill. She reached the sugar. She licked and licked my hand. I repeated the process until she was all the way up the hill. And then she started eating the hay.

Mary Grazie, on her feet, with the afterbirth

The man called out that he was leaving, and I said good-bye. He got in his truck and drove away, waving as he left. I stayed for a little while longer until I was sure that Maria Grazie was able to stand on her own four feet. And then I went back to the villa and had breakfast.

I returned to the scene about an hour later to check on Maria Grazie, this time armed with a camera. She was still eating hay, slowly, resolutely; in fact, she seemed to be starving.

Mary Grazie, all alone, by the hay

I slipped through the fence and up the hill. She did not come close to me, she just stayed by the hay. The other horses wandered away from her, out into the grassy field, leaving her standing all alone. My shoes had been cleaned at the house, and I didn't want to get them filthy again, so I didn't go close to her; I stayed on the grass.

Giuseppe

The stallion came close to me. He, too, seemed sad. I said, "It was your son, wasn't it? It must hurt you, too, to have lost your son." I offered him some sugar, and he accepted. He nuzzled me, and I was moved. "I saw what you did before," I told him. "I saw you offer her some hay. You're a kind horse." And then I named him Giuseppe, after the father of Jesus Christ. 

Ciao from Venice,
Cat
Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog

Serena Nono's Latest Film - Featuring Venice's Disenfranchised

(Venice, Italy) No, Venetians have not started dressing in 17th-century costumes again, nor is it Carnival. Those are actors at Campiello del Remer during a break in the shooting of Serena Nono's latest film based on Simone Weil's unfinished play, "Venice Saved." Weil wrote the play while in exile with her family from Nazi-occupied Paris. Set at the same time as a 17-century Spanish conspiracy to conquer Venice, "Venice Saved" was intended as an allegory of Imperialistic Germany in the 1940s.

Simone Weil, the philosopher, writer, and social activist, had a short life. She was born in Paris on February 3, 1909 and died in England at age 32 on August 24, 1943 from cardiac arrest aggravated by tuberculosis and self-starvation, choosing to limit her food intake to what the French were eating while under German occupation. She was deeply moved by the suffering of humanity, and has been described as a "mystic visionary." Like many of those who died young, she has since inspired a plethora of creative projects.

Fittingly, seventy percent of the cast of Serena Nono's film comes from the Casa dell'ospitalità di Venezia e Mestre, or the Hospitality House of Venice and Mestre, which provides shelter for the homeless.

Serena Nono

Serena Nono was born in Venice in 1964 and has some of the same sensibilities as Simone Weil coursing through her veins. Trained as an artist at Kingston University in London, she has exhibited all over Europe. Her father was the avant-garde composer, Luigi Nono, considered one of the most prominent composers of the 20th century. His music reflects his strong opposition to totalitarian systems that restrict individuality and freedom. Nono's maternal grandfather was the Viennese composer, Arnold Schoenberg, a protégé of Gustav Mahler and pioneer of "atonal" music; Schoenberg Hall at UCLA, where he was a professor, is named after him.

This is the third time Nono has cast the homeless in her films. Her highly acclaimed Via della Croce, or the Way of the Cross intertwines the crucifixion of Jesus Christ together with the stories of the guests at the Casa dell'ospitalità, and gives a voice to the marginalized members of society.


Nono's current film is centered around the conspiracy of 1618 involving the Venetian ambassador Alonso de la Cueva y Benavides, and the Marquis of Bedmar. Produced by La società Giano di David Riondino and Sabina Guzzanti, the assistant director is Manuela Pellarin, the director of photography is Tarek Ben Abdallah, and the scenographer is Serena Boccanegra. It is a co-production of Rai Cinema. 


Ciao from Venice,
Cat
Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog

"The Kiss Does Not Travel" - Must see! GUSTAV KLIMT in the Sign of Hoffmann and the Secession in Venice

Gustav Klimt
Particolare dal fregio di Beethoven, 1901-1902
Materiali vari

(Venice, Italy) Venice is home to the second largest collection of Gustav Klimt in the world right now. The  first is in Vienna, the Austrian artist's home town. 

Together with the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, the Fondazione Musei Civici di Venezia presents Gustav Klimt nel segno di Hoffmann e della Secessione at the Museo Correr, a dynamic collaboration between two heavyweight museums -- which, incidentally, are both helmed by women directors. 

Gabriella Belli is the new director of all the civic museums of Venice. She seems to be blowing off some dust. 

There are 11 different museums that belong to the Venice Civic Museums. (The Archeological and Marciana Library are Italian national museums.)

1. DOGE’S PALACE 2. MUSEO CORRER 3. Museo Archeologico Nazionale* 4. Monumental Rooms of the Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana** 5. CLOCK TOWER 6. CA' REZZONICO Museum of 18th-Century Venice 7. MUSEO DI PALAZZO MOCENIGO and Study Centre for the History of Textiles and Costumes

8. CARLO GOLDONI’S HOUSE and Library for Theatrical 9. CA' PESARO International Gallery of Modern Art and Oriental Art Museum* 10. MUSEO FORTUNY 11. GLASS MUSEUM 12. LACE MUSEUM 13. MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY

Upper Belvedere, Vienna

Agnes Husslein-Arco is the director of the Belvedere in Vienna. I found her energy refreshing. During the press conference, she remarked, "Art is the Ambassador of a country to the world." 

GUSTAV KLIMT Returns to the Lagoon for the 150th Anniversary of His Birth

A century after he participated in the Venice Biennale back in 1910, the Austrian artist, Gustav Klimt, returns to the lagoon in honor of the 150th anniversary of his birth in 1862 -- and a fine ambassador he is, even though in his own time he was often at odds with his government.

From Wikipedia:

Gustav Klimt
Giuditta I, 1901
Olio e foglia d’oro on canvas
84x42 cm.
Belvedere, Vienna 

The Klimt University of Vienna Ceiling Paintings, also known as the Faculty Paintings, were a series of paintings made by Gustav Klimt for the ceiling of the University of Vienna's Great Hall between the years of 1900-1907.

In 1894, Klimt was commissioned to paint the ceiling. Upon presenting his paintings -- Philosophy, Medicine and Jurisprudence -- Klimt came under attack for 'pornography' and 'perverted excess' in the paintings. None of the paintings would go on display in the university. In May 1945 all three paintings were destroyed by retreating SS forces.

...This would also be the last time Klimt would accept commissions from the state, remarking: "I've had enough of censorship...I reject all state support, I don't want any of it."

...The paintings were requested for the Louisiana Purchase Exposition in 1904 in St. Louis, Missouri, but the ministry declined, nervous of what the reaction might be. Klimt then resigned his commission, wishing to keep his work, but the ministry insisted they were already property of the state. Only when Klimt threatened the removal staff with a shotgun was he able to keep his paintings.

We can imagine the scene: Klimt, the frenzied creator of the paintings, armed with a shotgun, challenging some bewildered officers from the state who had arrived to take his creations away. Speaking from personal experience, an artist will protect their creation like a lion ferociously protects their young.

I can almost understand why the state felt they had the right to snatch the art in Klimt's case -- in their mind, they had commissioned the paintings. If they were paying an artist, damn it, that artist must be forced to behave according to the Rules of State. 

However, Klimt was operating under different Rules. He was following the standards set by the Angels from a another world, the World of Art -- like Beethoven -- who had gone before. 

When the World of Art collides with the Material World, it is like a nuclear bomb. We must remember that King Ludwig II of Bavaria was the enlightened ruler of the World of Art during Klimt's formative years and Wagner was still going strong. At around the same time, Sigmund Freud zapped everyone awake with psychoanalysis right there in Vienna, and Carl Jung expanded on the theme.

It was the turn of the century and The World of Art -- The Real World -- had kicked into high gear, which always spooks the state, which then, in turn, kicks into "crush, kill, destroy" mode. Attempting to radically move the state forward is no easy feat, though real artists never give up trying to do such things.

In any event, Klimt got his paintings back without firing a shot, with the help of his gutsy patrons, August Lederer, and his wife, Serena Pulitzer, together with Koloman Moser, fellow artist and founder of the Vienna Secession. 

Then, in 1945, the Nazis destroyed those paintings anyway, but by that time, Klimt had been dead for 27 years, and could only suffer from Heaven. 

GUSTAV KLIMT in the Sign of Hoffmann and the Secession

Gustav Klimt 
Giuditta II (Salomé), 1909
Olio su tela 176x46 cm.
Venezia, Ca' Pesaro -
 Galleria Internazionale d'Arte Moderna 

Now, here we are in 2012, and Gustav Klimt, like many artists Before Their Time, is alive and well all around the globe. [In 2006, the 1907 portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer (a fine name:) was purchased by Ronald Lauder for the Neue Galerie New York for $135 million dollars.] 

Curated by Alfred Weidinger, the aim of GUSTAV KLIMT in the Sign of Hoffmann and the Secession is "to introduce the visitor to the genesis and evolution, in both architecture and painting, of Klimt's work and that of the other protagonists of the Viennese Secession." 

The Secession movement, founded in 1897, was a group of artists composed of painters, architects and sculptors with Klimt as its first president. As the new century dawned, these artists objected to the prevailing conservatism in Vienna about the same time that Sigmund Freud was rocking the boat with psychoanalysis.

One of the main themes of the exhibition is Klimt's collaboration with Joseph Hoffman, the architect and interior designer. These two men strove to attain the total work of art. In 1902, the Secession decided to stage an exhibition devoted to Beethoven centered on Max Klinger's sculpture of the composer. Hoffman was the artistic director, who created three large rooms. In one of those rooms, Klimt depicted the Beethoven Frieze on three walls.

I was mesmerized by the work.

Based on Richard Wagner's descriptive interpretation of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony -- in particular, Friedrich von Schiller's Ode to Joy -- Klimt illustrates the allegorical theme of Art's victory over adversity.

Beethoven Frieze

The well-armed Strong One, spurred by appeals of suffering humanity, takes up his sword prepared to do battle against the Hostile Forces. His way is obstructed by Typhoeus, the brutal and stubborn instinct, along with the Three Gorgon Sisters, the extreme opposite of spiritual evolution. Ultimately, the conquering hero achieves his goal surrounded by a choir of angels, and his lover's embrace.

Beethoven Frieze
Photo at: Secession

From the official Secession website:

The Beethoven Frieze was originally intended as an ephemeral work of art and, like the other decorative paintings, it was to be removed after the close of the exhibition. It was only owing to fortunate circumstances, that the frieze was not destroyed as planned: the Secession was to present the following year a major Klimt retrospective (XVIIIth exhibition, 1903), and it was decided to leave the work of art in place. 

In 1903 the arts patron and collector Carl Reinighaus purchased the frieze, which was cut into seven pieces to be removed from the wall and was stored for twelve years in a furniture depot in Vienna, until Reinighaus sold the frieze again in 1915 to the industrialist August Lederer. Lederer was one of Klimt's most important supporters and owner of what was probably the most extensive and important collection of Klimt pictures in private hands at that time.

In 1938 the Lederer family, like so many other families of Jewish origin, was dispossessed. The Beethoven Frieze was thus placed in "state custody" and was only officially returned to the ownership of the family heir Erich Lederer, who had meanwhile settled in Geneva, after the end of World War II. At the same time, an export ban was placed on the frieze, so that Erich Lederer finally decided - not least of all due to the increasingly urgent necessity of restoring the frieze - to sell it to the Republic of Austria.

In 1973 the Beethoven Frieze was purchased by the Republic of Austria and restored over the course of ten years under the direction of Manfred Koller from the Federal Office of Monuments Vienna.

In the exhibition Traum und Wirklichkeit—Wien 1870-1930 at the Vienna Künstlerhaus, the frieze was displayed in a re-creation by the Hans Hollein Studio of its original setting by Josef Hoffmann. It was then transferred to a room in the Secession Gallery specially designed by Adolf Krischanitz.

The stunning Hans Hollein Studio recreation is what we have here in Venice, while the original is on show in Vienna in an exhibition entitled Close-up – GUSTAV KLIMT ~ GERWALD ROCKENSCHAUB – Plattform, which runs from March 23 to November 4, 2012. For more information, please go to the Secession site.

The Kiss

Gustav Klimt believed that "The arts lead us into an ideal realm, the only place where we can find pure joy, pure happiness, pure love."  

By the way, The Kiss, Klimt's most renowned work, is not here in Venice. According to what Agnes Husslein-Arco told me while the two of us were having a conversation in a quiet room: "The Kiss does not travel." But it's a wonderful thing, isn't it, that The Kiss still exists, safe and sound in Vienna?

ZECCHIN VITTORIO
(dal ciclo Mille e una Notte)
Le principesse e i guerrieri, 1914
Olio e oro su tela, cm 171 x188
part 1 

In addition to GUSTAV KLIMT in the Sign of Hoffmann and the Secession at the Museo Correr, there will be a companion exhibition over at Ca' Pesaro, Venice's International Gallery of Modern Art, entitled Spirito klimtiano: Vittorio Zecchin e Galileo Chini e la grande decorazione a Venezia featuring two Italian artists inspired by Klimt. 

Venice acquired Judith II after Klimt's acclaimed participation

in the 1910 Venice Biennale. 

GUSTAV KLIMT in the Sign of Hoffmann and the Secession
Museo Correr
Piazza San Marco
San Marco 52, 
30124 Venice
Entrance for the public: St. Mark’s Square, Napoleonic Wing, Monumental Staircase
March 24 to July 8, 2012
Open Daily
CLICK for more information

SPIRITO KLIMTIAN: Vittorio Zecchin e Galileo Chini e la grande decorazione a Venezia
Ca' Pesaro International Gallery of Modern Art
Santa Croce 2070,
30125 Venice
March 31 to July 8, 2012
Closed Mondays
CLICK for more information

Ciao from Venice,
Cat
Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog

Diana Vreeland After Diana Vreeland & Have a Nice Wax at Palazzo Fortuny

Ritratto by Priscilla Rattazzi, 1982 

(Venice, Italy) A vivid red cape worn by Maria Callas, created by Balenciaga, the aristocratic designer -- and installed next to a suit of armor -- grabs your eye as you enter the exhibition Diana Vreeland After Diana Vreeland at Palazzo Fortuny, affirming Vreeland's personal mantra: "Style. All who have it share one thing -- originality." 

Born in Paris in 1903, Vreeland was fashion editor of Harper's Bazaar for 26 years from 1936 to 1962, then editor-in-chief of Vogue from 1963 to 1971. After she was fired from Vogue, Vreeland spectacularly shifted gears and became a consultant to the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, creating a wake of controversy. "I was only 70. What was I supposed to do, retire?" 

Before Vreeland arrived on the scene, museums were interested in conservation and historical accuracy. Vreeland's exhibitions added glamor and contemporary allure. The photographer, Richard Avedon, said, "Diana lived for imagination ruled by discipline and created a totally new profession. She invented the fashion editor."

Veruschka indossa il Mondrian dress di Yves Saint Laurent,
ph. Irving Penn, “Vogue”, 15 settembre 1965 

The exhibit was commissioned by Lisa Immordino Vreeland, the granddaughter-in-law of Diana, and is part of the Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel project. From Harper's Bazaar:

Amazon.com

When I married Vreeland's grandson Alexander Vreeland in 2000, I entered her most intimate circle: her family. Although I never met her (she died in 1989), it was impossible not to become entrenched in her life. Her family's stories were peppered with hilarious accounts of their life with her and her illustrious career. 

But it wasn't until I started to conduct research for my book and documentary film, legendary Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel, that I felt I had finally discovered her real world and what drove her. Her career spanned six decades and witnessed major social upheavals and changes: World War II, the space age, and the sexual revolution. She made sure these events were reflected on the pages of Bazaar in ways that were considered shocking at times but were always innovative, vibrant, and unforgettable.

Read more: Diana Vreeland Biography - Diana Vreeland Quotes and Bio - Harper's BAZAAR 

Fortuny tea gown

The exotic Palazzo Fortuny in the center of Venice is the perfect venue to house the exhibit, which was curated by Judith Clark and Maria Luisa Frisa. Inspired by Diana Vreeland's dramatic flair, the exhibit winds through the ancient palace where Mariono Fortuny found his own inspiration. From Wikipedia:

Nowadays the Fortuny Museum is housed in the Venetian Gothic palazzo in Venice, the former home, studio, showroom and "Think-Tank" of Mariano Fortuny, who acquired it at the beginning of the 20th century. Fortuny invented in his Palazzo the Delphos gown, a gown based on the ancient Grecian style; and the Knossos Scarf, a silk scarf also inspired by this civilization. Fortuny also created new methods of dying textiles and well as ways of printing on fabrics. He created the Fortuny cyclorama dome, a stage lighting innovation that could be used to create lighting effects such as a bright sky or a faint dusk; and the Fortuny lamp, for indoor lighting. 

The exhibition features designs by Yves Saint Laurent and Givenchy worn by Diana Vreeland, on loan from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, as well as garments loaned from some of the most prestigious private collections in the world with labels like Missoni, Pucci, Schiaparelli and Chanel. I loved the chic and comfortable Givenchy working suits, and wished I had one to tool around in today. 

To read more about the exhibition, go to Diane Dorrans Saeks' excellent blog, The Style Saloniste.

Ceroplasta veneziano (?)
Bambina
1790-1795 circa
cera policroma, vetro, tessuto, capelli ;
 teche in legno intagliato dipinto e dorato
Venezia, Palazzo Mocenigo.
Centro Studi di Storia del Tessuto e del Costume 

On the ground floor of Palazzo Fortuny is a truly unique exhibition called Avere una balla cera. Le Figure in cera a Venezia e in Italia, or Have a Nice Wax - Wax Figures in Venice and Italy. I was surprised to learn that Venice was one of the leading creators of wax figures. In his 1756 play Le Smanie per la villeggiatura (A Craving for the Holidays), Carlo Goldoni advised: "Buy the wax of Venice. It costs more, but it lasts longer and is more beautiful." Apparently it was quite the vogue to make wax effigies for the Doges, the rulers of the Venetian Republic, and an effigy of Doge Alvise Mocenigo is on display.

The most riveting display case is filled with the wax heads of criminals, labeled with the crimes they committed: murder, theft, and armed robbery. That fellow you see below was a robber, the face of the duplicitous life he led over a hundred years ago preserved in wax.

Lorenzo Tenchini (Brescia, 1852-1906)
Ritratti di criminali
1885-1890 circa
cera policroma, vetro, capelli 
Parma, MAFS, Museo del Dipartimento di Anatomia Umana, Farmacologia e Scienze Medico Forensi 

Placed strategically across the room from the dastardly criminals are the serene busts of Capuchin friars, which are on loan from the Church of Redentore. The dichotomy vividly illustrates the masks of Good and Evil that human beings wear on their faces. If only it were that simple to tell the difference these days...

DIANA VREELAND AFTER
DIANA VREELAND
March 10 – June 26, 2012 

Avere una balla cera. 
Le Figure in cera a Venezia
March 10 - June 25, 2012

Palazzo Fortuny

San Marco 3780 – San Beneto, Venice, Italy
Booking and information: www.visitmuve.it
info@fmcvenezia.it 

Ciao from Venice

Cat

Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog

European Art: 1949-1979 & Marion R. Taylor: Paintings, 1966-2001 ...and Changes at Rialto

Emilio Vedova - Immagine del tempo (Sbarramento) 1951
Collezione Peggy Guggenheim, Venezia
© Fondazione Emilio e Annabianca Vedova

(Venice, Italy) Peggy Guggenheim lived inside Palazzo Venier dei Leoni for thirty years, from 1949 to 1979. One of the world's most famous collectors, Peggy closed her museum/gallery Art of This Century in New York in 1947 and, at age 50, arrived at the palace on the Grand Canal like an exotic alien from Looking Glass World, bringing her vision of the artistic avant-garde into the ancient city. With her own gondola, a tribe of Lhasa apso dogs and her legendary parties, she injected her own kaleidoscope into the Venetian landscape.

Marguerite "Peggy" Guggenheim was born into a wealthy, colorful family in New York. When Peggy was 13-years-old, her father, Benjamin Guggenheim, went down with the ship Titanic. 

From Wikipedia:

...realizing he was not going to be rescued, he then returned to his cabin with Giglio and the two men changed into evening wear. The two were seen heading into the Grand staircase closing the door behind them. He was heard to remark, "We've dressed up in our best and are prepared to go down like gentlemen." 

He also gave a survivor a message saying, "Tell my wife, if it should happen that my secretary and I both go down, tell her I played the game out straight to the end. No woman shall be left aboard this ship because Ben Guggenheim was a coward." 

Guggenheim and his valet were last seen seated in deck chairs in the Staircase sipping brandy and smoking cigars. Both men went down with the ship.

Peggy inherited a small fortune when she was 21-years-old. She moved to Paris, and spent her time with the avant-garde, embracing the eccentric world of artists and writers. With the help of Marcel Duchamp, she learned about the World of Art, became a patron and a collector, and eventually established galleries and museums where she could display her stash. During World War II, she went on a buying spree. 

From Wikipedia

In August 1939, Peggy Guggenheim left for Paris to negotiate loans for the first exhibition. In her luggage was a list drawn up by Herbert Read for this occasion. Shortly after her departure the Second World War broke out, and the events following 1 September 1939 made her abandon the scheme, willingly or not.

She then "decided now to buy paintings by all the painters who were on Herbert Read's list. Having plenty of time and all the museum's funds at my disposal, I put myself on a regime to buy one picture a day."^[1] When finished, she had acquired ten Picassos, forty Ernsts, eight Mirós, four Magrittes, three Man Rays, three Dalís, one Klee, one Wolfgang Paalen and one Chagall among others. In the meantime, she had also made new plans and in April 1940 had rented a large space in the Place Vendôme as a new home for her museum.

A few days before the Germans reached Paris, Peggy Guggenheim had to abandon her plans for a Paris museum, and fled to the south of France, from where, after months of safeguarding her collection and artist friends, she left Europe for New York in the summer of 1941. There, in the following year, she opened a new gallery which actually was in part a museum. It was called The Art of This Century Gallery. Three of the four galleries were dedicated to Cubist and Abstract art, Surrealism and Kinetic art, with only the fourth, the front room, being a commercial gallery.

Mirko - L'iniziato, 1955
Fondazione Solomon R. Guggenheim, Venezia
Donated: Vera and Raphael Zariski, 2007.7

After she closed The Art of This Century in 1947, the following year Peggy was invited to exhibit her collection in the unused Greek pavilion of the Venice Biennale. In July 1949, she bought Palazzo Venier dei Leoni and continued to collect. The exhibition European Art 1949 - 1979 curated by Philip Rylands, the director of the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, celebrates this post-war period, and her Venetian life.

Lucio Fontana - Concetto spaziole, Attese 1965
Fondazione Samuel R. Guggenheim, Venezia
Donation, Fondazione Lucio Fontana, Venezia
© Fondazione Lucio Fontana, Milano by SIAE 2012

In addition, many paintings have been donated to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection since Peggy's death in 1979, and this exhibition provides the opportunity to put some of them on display: a Letter to Palladio by Giuseppe Santomaso, early and late paintings by Armando Pizzinato, decoupages by Mimmo Rotella, two paintings by Lucio Fontana -- including a 1955 example of ‘holes’ bequeathed in 2011 -- a major painting by Pierre Alechinsky, an aluminum relief by Heinz Mack, prints by Eduardo Chillida, a Homage to the Square by Josef Albers, an ‘extroflexed’ canvas by Agostino Bonalumi, an entire room of sculptures by Mirko as well as his iconic tempera study for the Gates of the Fosse Ardeatine, a late monotype by Emilio Vedova, works by Bice Lazzari, Gastone Novelli and Toti Scialoja, and two paintings by Carla Accardi, including Concentric Blue of 1956.

Pierre Alechinsky - Vulcano azteco 1971
Fondazione Samuel R. Guggenheim, Venezia
Donation: Enrico & Fiorella Chiari
©Pierre Alechinsky by SIAE 2012 

The exhibition closes with a tribute to Marion R. Taylor, whose works were donated to the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation in 1998. Taylor died in 2010, and The Peggy Guggenheim Collection dedicates to the artist her first solo exhibition.

Marion R. Taylor - Newton, 1989
Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York
Gift of the artist, 1998

From the New York Times obituary:

Marion (Riki) Richardson, on February 10, 2010, beloved wife of the late author and diplomat, Ambassador Henry J. Taylor. An international artist, philanthropist and lifelong Republican, Riki was surrounded by a wide and diverse circle of friends. A conservative in political matters, she was a vanguard in her artistic work and advocacy. 

Her own artworks are in private collections and corporate headquarters, with several of her paintings part of the permanent collection of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Collection. Serving on the Advisory Board of the Peggy Guggenheim Collection in Venice, Italy, she was active during their European expansion and beyond, and was an active member of many other institutions, including The Metropolitan Museum, Museum of Modern Art, The Frick Collection and Whitney Museum of American Art. 

Her charitable efforts and event chairmanships included the American Cancer Society, Women's National Republican Club, American-Swiss Association, American-Scottish Foundation, Manhattan Institute, Friends of Art and Preservation in Embassies, and many others. 

Her dinner parties were legendary, and attracted the political, diplomatic, creative and intellectual communities. A member of the Council of American Ambassadors, Riki was an advocate for and supporter of our foreign embassies as both positive and beneficial links to the international community.

Church of San Giacometto

Meanwhile, over by Rialto, the Church of San Giacometto, Venice's most ancient church, has been transformed. Several organizations have collaborated to raise the awareness of art and music, and the Peggy Guggenheim Collection is one of them. 

Others are Chorus Churches, a group of Venetian churches dedicated to the preservation and enhancement of 1000 years of art; Interpreti Veneziani, a musical ensemble dedicated to bringing harmony back to the ancient venues that still stand in Venice; and the Museum of Music created by Interpreti Veneziani which houses the Artemio Versari collection of ancient instruments in the Church of San Maurizio.

San Giacometto by Canaletto (1725)

Now, part of the Artemio Versari collection has been added to the Church of San Giacometto, and the church itself has been buffed and polished, its doors thrown open, transforming it into both a music museum and a church. 

I was startled at first, but decided I liked the new energy. However, I was a bit thrown off when I was lighting a candle for my brother who recently died and a tourist interrupted my thoughts with the question, "How much do the candles cost?" 

Sergio

I surveyed some locals in the area, including Sergio Boldrin, the mask-maker, and everyone agreed that the new energy was positive as long as everyone remembers that San Giacometto is first a church. Sergio's tiny shop at the foot of the Rialto Bridge shares part of the wall of the church. 

Paolo

To me, the most important opinion was that of Paolo, the long-time caretaker of the church. I have known Paolo for more than a decade, and he, too, thought the change was positive. 

Over by the fish market, a new addition to the neighborhood caught my eye -- a shop tucked into the corner, its bold, bright colors proclaiming: ART@The Fish Market. Instead of the word, "fish", there was the image of a bright pink fish amongst a school of vivid blue and yellow fish swimming in the window. 

I wandered in, and met the vivacious Annamaria Cimbal, who had moved from Milano to the island of Burano and opened her Yellow Submarine gallery tucked among the natives. Annamaria has exhibited all over the world, including in the Italian Parliament. I fell in love with her vibrant pop art, sprinkled with joy and sunshine. 

Annamaria Cimbal with her art - Chinese word for "Love" on the left;
Madonna & Child on the right

In addition, the fountain in the center of Campo San Giacometto has been restored, as has the statue of Gobbo. After years of serving as a bench for tourists, the fountain is finally flowing again with water. 

According to legend, Venice herself was born at San Giacometto on March 25, 421AD at 12:00 noon. Banking was invented at Rialto, and the Church of San Giacometto was considered the church of the merchants, who centered at Rialto from all over the world. 

There is an engraving on the apse that states: "Round about this church may the merchant be equitable, the weights just and may no fraudulent contract be negotiated." If the energy at Rialto, the heart of Venice, continues in this positive direction, perhaps the right kind of magic will return to the Magic Kingdom. 

Fountain at San Giacometto

Ciao from Venice,

Cat

Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog

Music Interlude: Let's Go Fly a Kite..