Surreal! Bosch & Venice at Palazzo Ducale and Rita Kernn-Larsen at the Guggenheim

Bosch e Venezia - Photo: Cat Bauer

(Venice, Italy) Bosch has intrigued the world for centuries, with his frightening images of eternal damnation, dreamy fantasies of paradise, and surreal visions of naked humans cavorting on earth. When I first saw Bosch's Visions of the Hereafter downstairs at the Palazzo Ducale many years ago, I was stunned to see he had painted it around 1505-15 -- it looked so contemporary. The Way to Heaven, with angels guiding the good up through a white light, and The Way to Hell, with demons gleefully dragging sinners into a fiery pit stamped a deep impression on my mind.

Jheronimus Bosch
Polittico delle Visioni dell’Aldilà
1505-1515 circa

Last year, in celebration of the 500th anniversary of Bosch's death, the small Noordbrabants Museum in ‘s-Hertogenbosch (or the more pronounceable Den Bosch - "the forest"), the hometown of Jheronimus van Aken, asked museums around the world to loan them their Bosch-works -- none existed in the town in the Netherlands where Bosch was born, and on which he based his nom de plume.  

The Nordbrabants Museum had no paintings to offer in exchange. But they had knowledge, and were actually there, on the Bosch scene. This bold request by the director, Charles de Mooij, prompted major museums like the Accademia in Venice, the Louvre in Paris, the Prado in Madrid, the Met in NY and the National Gallery of Art in Washington, to come together to lift up their smaller sibling, resulting in a Bosch revival. Although 21st Century technology has cast new light on the 16th Century artist, there are still more questions than answers.

Venice is the only city in Italy that has works by Bosch -- The Martyrdom of Saint Uncumber (Wilgefortis, Liberata), a triptych; Three Hermit Saints, also a triptych; and the four panels of Paradise and Hell (Visions of the Afterworld). Just how Bosch's works of art ended up in Venice is one of the focuses of the exhibition now showing at the Doge's Apartments in Palazzo Ducale entitled Bosch e Venezia.

Jheronimus Bosch
Trittico di Santa liberata o Wilgerfortis
1495-1505 circa

After a major campaign of restoration financed by the Bosch Research and Conservation Project and the Getty Foundation of Los Angeles, and a trip up North to Den Bosch for the Noordbrabants' stellar show, the works are now back in Venice, refreshed. 

One result of the restoration confirmed that it was, indeed, Saint Uncumber who was the subject of a triptych after it was revealed that the female saint definitely had a beard. In Italy, her name is Saint Liberata, which means Liberty, and that is the name I like the best. The teenage aristocrat Wilgefortis, aka Saint Liberata, grew her beard after her pagan father, the King of Portugal, promised her in marriage to a pagan prince. Wilgefortis was Christian, and had taken a vow of chastity, so she prayed to become unattractive. Miraculously, she sprouted a beard and the marriage was called off, which made her father furious, so he had her crucified. Saint Liberata is the saint you pray to if you want relief from tribulations, particularly if you have an abusive spouse and wish to be "disencumbered."
 

Hypnerotomachia Poliphili - Photo: Cat Bauer

During the time of Bosch, the Renaissance in Venice was in full throttle, with the aging Bellini, and the young upstarts Giorgione and Titian as star painters. Aldus Manutius was revolutionizing the publishing industry, and, in 1499, had published the mysterious Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, also known as Poliphilo's Strife of Love in a Dream, complete with erotic illustrations, which is included in the exhibition. The illustration of dreams (or nightmares) had cranked into gear.

To this day, scholars, theologians, and lay people still try to reconcile how the good Christian, Jheronimus Bosch, came to paint such sexually explicit and ghoulish scenes. There is documentary evidence (one written by Bosch's contemporary, the artist, Albrecht Druer) of the fabulous bed of Count Henry III of Nassau-Breda that slept 50. Count Henry owned Bosch's extreme vision, The Garden of Earthly Delights. Count Henry was a buddy of Emperor Maximilian I; he also educated Maximilian's grandson, the future Emperor Charles V. Apparently Count Henry liked to hold banquets, get his guests drunk and toss them into the big bed. Was Bosch involved with a secret cult? Was he working on commission to indulge the fantasies of his wealthy patrons? Or was his work simply the product of his wild imagination?

Jheronimus Bosch
Polittico delle Visioni dell’Aldilà
1505-1515 circa

The second emphasis of the exhibition attempts to explain the reason why Bosch's paintings are in Venice by connecting the works to the Venetian Domenico Grimani, a cardinal and humanist with an extensive collection of art. Grimani purportedly scooped up Bosch's works after his death in 1516. According to the exhibition:

There are three protagonists in the exhibition. The first is, of course, Jheronimus Bosch himself; the second is Domenico Grimani, a formidable prince of the Church, intellectual, collector of books and "artistic" objects of all kinds, and the recipient of three works by Bosch: he was a leading Renaissance figure. And the third protagonist, whose presence is perhaps a little more "indirect," is a fascinating homme d'affaires, printer, dealer in luxury goods, and intellectual in his own way and the friend of artists: the Flemish Daniel van Bomberghen, who we believe was responsible for bringing Bosch's works to the attention of Cardinal Grimani.

The Way to Hell (detail)

Although I am not a scholar, to me, it is not that strange that Bosch's paintings should end up in Venice. During the Renaissance, Venice was a hive for humanists. There was a long-established trade route between Venice and the Northern European merchants. Their headquarters, the Fondaco dei Tedeschi at the foot of the Rialto Bridge had burned in 1505; a more magnificent structure was built in less than three years. The German merchant Jacob Fugger, another important Renaissance figure and arguably the richest man who ever lived, had not only funded Maximilian I, he was the intermediary between the Emperor and Pope Julius II, and one of those responsible for Charles V becoming Emperor. There was a steady flow of goods, information and lots of money between Renaissance Venice and the North.

Although there is no evidence that Bosch was ever in Venice, there is documentation that Durer was; he is included in this exhibition. Someone else who definitely was in Venice during that period was Erasmus of Rotterdam, the Prince of Humanists himself. Erasmus asked Aldus Manutius to publish his Latin translations of Hecuba and Iphigenia in Aulis by Euripides, and personally came to Venice in 1508. Erasmus was also a member of the "New Academy" of Hellenists, founded by Manutius.

On a whim, I did some research, and learned that Erasmus had been educated at one of the houses of the Brethren of the Common Life in 's-Hertogenbosch when he was a teenager in the early-mid 1480s. Was there any connection between Erasmus and Bosch? Or was it just a coincidence that they were in the same town at the same time?

The Church of San Bartolomeo, just moments away from the Fondaco, was the house of worship for the German community in Venice. (I made a short video this morning so you can see just how close they are.) Durer had been commissioned by Jacob Fugger to paint The Feast of the Rosary for the church. Everybody Who Was Anybody in the Renaissance world was at the church when the mathematician and magician Luca Pacioli, a good friend of Leonardo da Vinci, gave his famous lecture on Euclid's elements on August 11, 1508, ten days after the inauguration of the Fondaco dei Tedeschi.

The point is that an artist such as Bosch who pushed the limits would surely have been known in certain circles of Renaissance, an intricate network that extended beyond the Alps. Today, some works of Bosch would probably be banned on Facebook.

I have read many arguments about what Bosch was up to -- no one knows for sure, just like no one knows for sure who wrote the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, and no one knows for sure who designed the Fondaco dei Tedeschi. There are many mysteries about what was going on during the Renaissance in Venice, but one thing is certain: it is riveting stuff!
 

Anonimo seguace di Jheronimus Bosch
Tentazioni di sant’Antonio
metà del xvi secolo
2017 Credit © Archivio fotografico – Fondazione Musei Civici di Venezia

The third aspect of the exhibition focuses on other artists who were inspired by Bosch's trippy art; Bosch spawned an entire genre of surreal, nightmarish, fantastic images, which continue to fascinate.

AppTripper

The thing I loved most about Bosch e Venezia is the totally cool Virtual Reality trip into Visions of the Hereafter, courtesy of Apptripper. Strap on your VR glasses and headphones and plunge straight into the painting. Spin down to Hell, then flutter up to Paradise and experience Bosch in another dimension. It's the first time Virtual Reality has been implemented in a museum in Italy. I did it three times.

Bsoch - The Fall - AppTripper

Jheronimus Bosch and Venice runs through June 4, 2017. Go to Palazzo Ducale for more information.

The Apple by Rita Kernn-Larsen (1934)
Kunsten Museum of Modern Art, Aalborg

Meanwhile, the Peggy Guggenheim Collection has inaugurated its new "Project Rooms" (that used to be the café) with Rita Kernn-Larsen, a prominent Danish Surrealist artist that Peggy met in 1937 in Paris, and invited to exhibit at Guggenheim Jeune in London the following year. I really liked the artist, who is little known outside Denmark, and the intimacy the Project Rooms added to her works.

Rita Kernn-Larsen. Surrealistic Paintings runs through June 26, 2017. Go to the Guggenheim for more information.

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

What is the Ballad of the Masks and the Beheading of the Bull? - Venice Carnival 2017 - Fat Thursday

Here Comes the Bull! Venice Carnival 2017

(Venice, Italy) The Ballad of the Masks and The Beheading of the Bull are "new" elements that were added to the Venice Carnival a couple years ago. Actually, the Beheading of the Bull is an ancient tradition that started back on Giovedì Grosso, or Fat Thursday, in 1162, and was part of Carnevale for centuries.

There is a Venetian expression: "Tagliar la testa al toro," which translates to: "Cut the head of the bull." What does that colorful expression mean and how did it originate?

Cat Bauer - Venice Carnival 2017

This is a story about the Holy Roman Empire, which, by 1162, was German, led by Frederick Barbarossa (aka Red Beard) and the battle to conquer Italy. Ulrich II von Treven was Austrian, and was the Patriarch of Aquileia, a Roman city not that far from Venice on the mainland, about six miles away from the Adriatic Sea. Ulrich supported Barbarossa and the Holy Roman Empire.

Enrico Dandolo was Venetian, and was the Patriarch of Grado, a town on an island and peninsula not far from Aquileia. For centuries, Grado and Aquileia constantly battled each other for power. (NOTE: Enrico Dandolo's famous nephew was also named Enrico Dandolo, and would become the Doge of Venice and leader of the Fourth Crusade, but he is not part of this story.) Venice, Aquileia and Grado were tumultuous neighbors.

Before we arrive at 1162 and the story of the Beheading of the Bull, we must go back in time a couple hundred years before Jesus Christ was born and pagan Roman gods ruled the universe to understand how two different Christian patriarchs evolved, one in Aquileia and one in Grado.

I could not find a decent map to illustrate the three different locations, so I made one myself, which you can click to enlarge:

Venice, Aquileia & Grado - Map by Cat Bauer

Many years ago, when I first moved to Venice, one of my main questions was: why are all these impressive palaces on the Grand Canal? Who were these people? Why not shacks? So, a Venetian friend of mine brought me to Aquileia and Grado.

Aquileia has a long, complex history, but to greatly simplify, it started out as a Roman colony in about 180 BC. Julius Caesar visited the city on several occasions. As time went on, many Roman emperors stopped by Aquileia, starting with Augustus -- some even made it their residence. 

Tradition says that Saint Mark the Evangelist himself founded Christianity in Aquileia. He had gone to Rome with Saint Peter around 42AD, and Peter asked him to travel up north to kick-off Christianity in Aquileia, a powerful Roman imperial city in a critical location — and thus we have Venice’s famous origin story.

The Dream of Saint Mark by Domenico Tintoretto

From Gallerie dell’Accademia:

Mark was sailing to Rome from Aquileia when a violent storm drove his boat towards the Venetian islands. During the night, an angel appeared to him in a dream saying, “Pax tibi, Marce, Evangelista meus, hic requiescat corpus tuum”, meaning that his mortal remains would one day return to the place where he had had the vision, and in that same place the city of Venice would rise and he would be named its patron saint. 

In 168 AD, Marcus Aurelius made Aquileia the principal fortress against the barbarians of the North and East. Around the same time, Grado was founded as a fisherman's village and a harbor for ships sailing up the river Natissa towards Aquileia.

Jumping ahead about 150 years, in 313 AD, Roman Emperor Constantine the Great issued the Edict of Milan, which accepted Christianity. Between 318 and 319 AD, Emperor Constantine sojourned in Aquileia many times. The city acquired an imperial palace -- it was so important that it had become the ninth great city of the world, with a population of 100,000.

In 391 AD, Emperor Theodosius the Great made Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire. The earth-shattering change from paganism to Christianity was conclusive. Aquileia was now a powerful Roman Christian city in a prime location.

All this prominence made Aquileia a target, and in 401 they were invaded by the Alarics and Visigoths, topped off by Attila the Hun in 452. For safety, much of the population fled to the lagoons of Grado and Venice -- which, at that time, was also only a fisherman's village. 

As Christianity expanded, so did the offices and jurisdictions governing the new religion. At first, there were just three patriarchates established by the apostles in the first century -- Rome, Antioch and Alexandria. Constantinople was added in the fourth century and Jerusalem in the fifth

 

By the mid 6th century, the metropolitan bishops of Aquileia started to use the patriarchal title. Paulinus I was the first Patriarch of Aquielia, serving from 557 to 571.

In 568, the Lombards invaded Aquileia. Patriarch Paulinus fled from Aquileia to Grado, bringing holy relics blessed by Saint Mark himself with him. 

Grado declared the ecclesiastical power had thus been transferred, and that Grado was the "New Aquileia." Paulinus retained the title of Patriarch of Aquileia until his death in 571.

Venice Carnival 2017

Aquileia pulled itself together, and rose again, and was invaded again by the Lombards. This back and forth went on and on, until two different patriarchs evolved: one in Aquileia, and one in Grado with ever-changing loyalties to various popes and emperors, as the world adjusted to the new religion, Christianity. 

To recap: The patriarchs of Grado were supported by Venice. The patriarchs of Aquileia were supported first by the Lombards and then by the Holy Roman Empire.

By the time we arrive to the year of our story, 1162, Venice had grown from mudflats to palaces and was a powerful republic on the world stage. Saint Mark’s dream had become reality, and he was its patron saint. The Venetian nobleman Enrico Dandolo was the Patriarch of Grado -- except it was no longer located in Grado. The base had moved from the town of Grado straight into the heart of Venice, where Enrico Dandolo was a "visitor" over in the Church of San Silvestro in San Polo.

The Austrian Ulrich II von Treven was now the Patriarch of Aquileia, supported by the Holy Roman Empire. By this time, the battle over who had the greater ecclesiastical power had been going on for centuries.

However, what was really happening in 1162 was a proxy war, with Emperor Frederick Barbarossa intending to conquer Venice, using Ulrich, the Patriarch of Aquileia, like a bishop on a chess board. Ulrich, who was in contact with Barbarossa, attacked Grado.

In response, Doge Vitale Michiel blasted a powerful force of enraged Venetians to Grado, who surrounded the city, captured the piazza, and brought Ulrich, twelve of his lords, and 700 captives back to Venice. They marched Ulrich and the lords through the streets of Venice, insulting and taunting them.

The 12 Marie - World's Oldest Beauty Contest

The Doge said he would let Ulrich and his gang go back to Aquileia on one condition: they must send a bull, twelve pigs and bread every year to mark the day of Venice's conquest, which just happened to be Giovedi Grosso, Fat Thursday, a day to indulge before Lent.

Ulrich caved in. The Venetians beheaded the bull and slaughtered the pigs provided by Aquileia, divided up the meat, and celebrated their great victory over the pesky Patriarch of Aquileia.

Carnival already existed in Venice -- it was first mentioned in 1094 -- but that this scene took place on Giovedì Grosso, was supreme good luck. From then on, the Venetian Senate used the yearly re-enactment of the Beheading of the Bull to remind the population of what champions they were, and marked the day with lots of pomp and circumstance.

The bull represented the humbled Patriarch of Aquileia, and the pigs represented the disgraced lords. I can't date exactly when the tradition ended, but probably around the time of Napoleon, with the end of Carnival itself.

By the way, Frederick Barbarossa tried to conquer Venice again in 1177, which led to to the creation of another beloved Venetian celebration, the Festa della Sensa, the Marriage to the Sea:

Venice Marries the Sea and the America's Cup!!!

Beheading of the Bull - Photo: Official Carnival site

So, what does "tagliar la testa al toro" mean? It means, basta, enough, or a definite solution. Here is an example, given to me by a Venetian: "I claim I gave you €1000. You claim I gave you €800. This argument goes on and on. Finally, I say, Basta! Tagliar la testa al toro! Enough! Cut the head of the bull! Give me €900, and we will stop arguing about it."

I asked more Venetians, including younger ones who live on the mainland, and discovered that the phrase had a slightly different meanings depending on where you were from, and was also used all throughout Italy. But older Venetians D.O.C. said, "Forget about what anybody else says. It means, this is what we are going to do to resolve this situation, case closed!"

Venice Carnival 2017

Two years ago, the mask-making cultural organization, L'Arte dei Mascareri, decided to bring this ancient celebration back to Fat Thursday. These are some of the same people that reignited Carnival back in 1980, which grew into the international spectacle it has become today. One of the most prominent members of the organization is Sergio Boldrin of La Bottega dei Mascareri, who, along with his brother, Massimo, creates some of the best, original masks in Venice.

Click to go to La Bottega dei Mascareri.

Sergio Boldrin of La Bottega dei Mascareri

The Ballad of the Masks and The Beheading of the Bull have been a great success. A parade of Venetians wearing costumes and masks, along with the bull (no longer real:-) gathers at 2:30pm in Campo Santa Margherita. There are drummers and musicians, dancers, stilt-walkers, the twelve Marie, and a joyful assortment of colorful characters. The parade moves to San Barnaba, then to Accademia and over the bridge into Santa Stefano; next it promenades down XXII Marzo, arriving in Piazza San Marco at 4:30pm. It swoops through the Piazza until arriving on stage. This year, the bull transformed into a male dancer wearing a bull head, and was slain by a female dancer in red.

I was lucky enough to be on stage when the parade arrived, and thought the show was fantastic. Judging by the reaction of the crowd, so did those in the audience.

Beheading of the Bull - Venice Carnival 2017

The mask-makers, together with VELA, have organized The Ballad of the Masks and The Beheading of the Bull to promote the ancient craft of mask-making and inject some local mischief and joy back into Carnevale.

Next Giovedì Grosso, you are welcome to join the parade if you wear a mask and a costume. It's a great new element to Carnival -- a long parade of multi-colored, bouncy people snaking their way through Venice on Fat Thursday!

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

Sweet, Sweet Venice - Caffè Florian Delicacies - Book of Recipes

 "Venice is like eating an entire box of chocolate liqueurs in one go." 
---Truman Capote

(Venice, Italy) The Caffè Florian, in the heart of Piazza San Marco, has been one of the most beloved venues in Venice for centuries by both Venetians and visitors alike. The oldest coffeehouse in all of Italy can also claim to be the oldest in all the world, depending on how one defines the term. It was established in 1720, and has been a cozy, delightful and crucial meeting point of civilized minds for nearly 300 years.

Marco Maccapani, Artistic Director of Venice Carnival, at Caffè Florian with Cristiano Strozzi (seated)

Yesterday, the Florian launched I Dolci Veneziai del Caffè Florian, a sweet little book in both English and Italian filled with classic Venetian dessert recipes by Cristiano Strozzi, the Executive Chef Pâtissier. But it's not only about recipes -- the desserts are accompanied by fascinating anecdotes about their origins, with gorgeous photos by Marco Tortato and clever text by Stefano Stipitivich. I had never had fried cream before, and it was yummy. Here is the intro:

Crema fritta (fried cream) is a typical dish in various Italian regions and can be served as either an appetizer or a dessert. The recipe goes back many a year. It coincided with the onset of winter when the Veneto country folk slaughtered the pig as the cold began to arrive. The lard was used to cook creams, frittelle and galani, so crema fritta was another typical sweet treat at Christmas and Carnival time; the Venetian Carnival began straight after Boxing Day, on 27 December.

In the Venetian custom, crema fritta was cooked at the last minute and eaten at the end of the meal, doused in raisin wine, a "vin foresto" (foreign wine), as they used to say in the Lagoon.

Hot chocolate and cookies - Divine!

One of the most divine things about Italy is that the hot chocolate is real, oozy and thick, with sensuality and substance. It is like drinking an aphrodisiac, which Casanova liked to use in his seductions. From I Dolci Veneziai del Caffè Florian:

...It was only in the 16th century that chocolate reached Europe: Hernàn Cortéz brought cocoa to Spain in the early 1500, but no other European country would experience the joys of chocolate until the 17th century. In 1615, Anne of Austria, the Infanta of Spain, married Louis XIII and thus brought the drink to France, from where it spread to Holland, Germany and England.

The Dutch soon became the main importers. In Europe's capital cities, chocolate was as fashionable as coffee: the early "coffee shops," especially in Venice and London, began to serve not only the "black beverage" but also chocolate in a cup.

...they say that Giacomo Casanova had his lovers drink it as an aphrodisiac in voluptuous quantities with added chili. Could it be true?

Caffè Florian during Carnival - Photo: Cat Bauer

The Caffè Florian is a landmark that exemplifies Venice in all its elegance, romance and intelligence. I'm not going to give away the actual recipes -- for that you will have to get the book. The Florian is a wonderful place in which to heighten your senses at any time of the year, but now, during Carnival, it is spectacular.

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

Venice Carnival 2017 and A Brief History of Mask-Making

Sergio Boldrin of La Bottega dei Mascareri

(Venice, Italy)  Venice is a unique city. Built on the water, tucked safely inside her own lagoon, Venice was once the center of international trade, as well as the publishing industry. The ruling mercantile aristocracy were seafarers, enormously wealthy, and competed with each other to build the most magnificent palaces filled with lush furnishings, art and tapestries. Venetians are good with a boat.

Venetians had their own peculiar customs like gliding around in gondolas and wearing masks. They loved gambling and going to the theater. The first public opera house opened in Venice in 1637, and was so popular that it spawned many others, making Venice the one-time opera capital of the world.

Carnevale - Photo: Cat Bauer

In honor of Carnival, which starts today here in Venice, I am republishing a slightly edited version of a piece I first wrote way back in 2001 for the International Herald Tribune - Italy Daily to which I own the copyright about the history of mask-making. Today, Sergio & Massimo Boldrin still own La Bottega dei Mascareri, creating masks by hand using papier-mâché.

A Brief History of Mask Making
by
Cat Bauer

In a city where there seems to be a mask shop on every corner, it may be surprising to learn that the ancient Venetian craft of mask making was only revived about forty years ago.

Sergio Boldrin is one of the senior mask-makers in Venice, as well as an accomplished artist. When he was a child, there were no mask shops in the entire city. There was no Carnival. During the terrorism and political upheavals in Italy in the 1970s, the wearing of masks was discouraged.

Masks disappeared, along with Carnival, when Napoleon's troops brought an end to the Venetian Republic in 1797. Since then, they've resurfaced and submerged again throughout the decades until being vanquished to the pages of the history books by the 20th century. However, masks staged a spectacular comeback in the late 1970s and early 1980s when a group of young people, including Sergio, brought them once again into the forefront.

As far back as the 11th century, the mattaccino costume was worn by mischievous young men, who, dressed as clowns, would bombard noblewomen with eggs filled with rosewater, inspiring the first official documentation regarding masks: a 1268 law prohibiting the throwing of eggs while disguised. The Venetian government apparently gave up trying to enforce it, however, and resorted to putting up nets along the Procuratie in St. Mark's Square to protect the ladies and their rich clothing. Even in Sergio's day, young Venetian men opened fire on expensively-dressed women with the yolky bombs. "I did throw an egg or two myself as a kid," confessed Sergio. "Venetian boys have been throwing eggs for more than 700 years."

Mask making in Venice can be documented back to the 13th century, though it probably existed much earlier. On April 10, 1436, the ancient profession of mascareri was founded under the jurisdiction of the Painter's Guild. Over the years, masks were used for a variety of reasons -- in the government, the theater, and as a means of disguise. Masks provided the Venetians a degree of anonymity.

The wearing of a mask put everyone on the same level: rich and poor, nobleman and citizen, beautiful and ordinary, old and young. It permitted confidences to be exchanged anonymously -- everything from accusations before State Inquisitors, to a potpourri of sexual indiscretions. Prostitutes practiced their trade without fear of retribution; homosexuals hid their illicit lifestyle. In 1458, it was decreed that men were forbidden to dress up as women and enter convents to commit indecent acts.

Not all masks were used for indelicacies, however. The bauta was worn by both men and women, and was not considered a costume but a form of dress -- required wearing if a woman wanted to go to the theater.  

Il medico della peste had a long beak-like nose stuffed with disinfectants, and, as its name implies, was used to protect doctors from the plague.

Another ingredient in this colorful mix was the Italian theater, Commedia dell'arte. In the 18th century, the renowned Venetian playwright, Carlo Goldoni, brought theatrical masks to the forefront. Pantalone, Harlequin, Colombina and Pulcinella were among the many masks that found their way into the Carnival.

Over the years, Carnival festivities grew more decadent until it evolved into a 250-day event of non-stop parties, gambling and dancing. Social and class distinctions were flipped on their heads, with servants dressing up as masters and vice versa. It was difficult to distinguish a housewife wearing a traditional mask, cape, hood and three corner hat from a nobleman dressed in the same outfit, allowing both to move freely though the city without fear of recognition.

Il Ridotto by Pietro Longhi (c. 1750)

Sergio has been a major force in keeping this early art form alive. Together with his brother, Massismo, he owns La Bottega dei Mascareri. The original shop at the foot of the Rialto Bridge is not much bigger than a closet, and shares a wall with one of the oldest churches in Venice, the 11th century San Giacomo di Rialto.

A second, larger shop is located on Calle dei Saoneri 
at San Polo 2720, operated by Massimo Boldrin and Rita Perinello, where there is an opportunity to watch the mask-makers at work. La Bottega's creations are completely handmade the traditional way, from papier-mâché.

The Boldrin brother's masks have been featured in Harper's Bazaar, Condé Nast Traveler, Orient Express Magazine, National Georgraphic Traveler, the New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Boston Globe and Vogue, as well as many other internationally respected journals, and in numerous TV shows and films, such as "Eyes Wide Shut."

La Bottega dei Mascareri
San Polo 80 (Rialto)
Tel. & Fax: (39) 041.522-3857
San Polo 2720
Tel.: (39) 041.524-2887
Email:info@mascarer.com

Go to La Bottega dei Mascareri for more information about authentic Venetian masks.

Go to the official Venice Carnival site for information about Carnevale Venezia 2017.

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

And Now, Where do We Go? Exciting Cultural Program at T Fondaco in Venice

T Fondaco dei Tedeschi - Delfino Sisto Legnani e Marco Cappelletti © Dfs Group

(Venice, Italy) After many years of hibernating inside a colossal cocoon, the Fondaco dei Tedeschi at the foot of the Rialto Bridge recently metamorphosed into its current incarnation. An energetic nip and tuck by the renowned architect, Rem Koolhaas, and his OMA team, has lifted the monumental structure into the 21st century.

Originally constructed in 1508, the ancient building had first been the commercial center for German merchants during the Holy Roman Empire, next a customs house under Napoleon, and then a post office under Mussolini. On October 1, 2016, it officially opened as a DFS luxury department store, complete with an Alajmo brothers eatery on the ground floor called AMO (Italian for "I love"), and a cultural center on the top.

So the question is: AND NOW, WHERE DO WE GO?

The T Fondaco wants to take you on a cultural journey. Part of the arrangement they have with Venice is to open its doors to the community. Today, they announced what the program would include. It is filled with music -- in collaboration with Veneto Jazz -- dance, film, literature and other delights. Everything is free. However, there is a caveat: you must make an online reservation, and there is a limited amount of available tickets. There are 170 seats, with standing room for another 30 people.

Roberto Meneghesso, Vice President of DFS Italia, whose energy is contagious, had another surprise. He revealed a copy of the 1616 copper engraving by Raphael Custos that illustrated what the Fondaco looked like way back when.

Roberto Meneghesso, VP DFS Italia

There has been a lot of... discussion about the moving of the ancient well from the center of the Fondaco to the side (you cannot move one stone inside Venice without it becoming a topic of... discussion). Well, the well was originally just where it is now -- you can see it there on the right; it is inside that tower-like contraption. In addition to being a commercial center, the Fondaco was also home to the German community, and apparently they needed a method to hoist the water up to where it was most useful.

Fondaco dei Tedeschi by Raphael Custos (1616)

I am going to list the cultural program from February through June below, In Italian. In order to book, you must email fondaco.culture@dfs.com, except for Pulitzer-prize winning American author Michael Chabon on March 30, who will be in Venice for part of the Incroci di Civiltà literary festival, and must be booked at www.incrocidicivilta.org.

And now, where do we go?

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

Cultural Center - Matteo De Fina © Dfs Group

FEBBRAIO
Venerdì 10, ore 18.30
viaggianote
Fabrizio Bosso Spiritual Trio
feat. Walter Ricci

Mercoledì 15, ore 18.30
viaggiaparole
Giuseppe Culicchia
Mi sono perso in un luogo comune

MARZO
Venerdì 3, ore 19
fontegoincelluloid
Proiezione di video e documentari del Video Concorso Francesco Pasinetti

Martedì 7, ore 18.30
viaggiaparole
Viola Di Grado, Bambini di ferro
musica di Shedir

Venerdì 17, ore 18.30
viaggianote
Kinga Glyk Trio

Mercoledì 22
fontegoindanza
Viaggio Blu
ore 19-19.15 | 19.30-19.45 | 20-20.15

Giovedì 30, ore 21
incrocidiciviltà
Michael Chabon, in dialogo con Shaul Bassi e Mattia Ravasi

APRILE
Martedì 11, ore 18.30
viaggiaparole
Marco Rossari, Le cento vite di Nemesio
musica di intonarumori

Venerdì 21, ore 18.30
viaggianote
Marea & Javier Girotto
Mediterranean Symposium 10th Anniversary

Mercoledì 26,
fontegoindanza
Viaggio Rosso
ore 19-19.15 | 19.30-19.45 | 20-20.15

MAGGIO
Martedì 2, ore 18.30
viaggiaparole
Vitaliano Trevisan short cuts in jazz
musica di Paolo Brusò

Venerdì 19, ore 18.30
viaggianote
Mauro Ottolini Trio Campato in Aria

Mercoledì 24,
fontegoindanza
Viaggio Bianco
ore 19-19.15 | 19.30-19.45 | 20-20.15

GIUGNO
Martedì 6, ore 18.30
viaggiaparole
Lorena Canottiere,
D R A W M U S I C (disegno dal vivo)
musica di Stefano Risso

Venerdì 16, ore 18.30
viaggianote
Flo
Il mese del rosario

21st Anniversary of Teatro La Fenice Fire in Venice

Fire at Teatro La Fenice

(Venice, Italy) Teatro La Fenice, Venice's opera house, was destroyed by fire twenty-one years ago, on January 29, 1996, a case of arson. Like the mythical bird, the beloved theater rose from the ashes more splendid than before, once again filling Venice with music and wonder.

Teatro La Fenice

The ancient Greek myth of the phoenix is present in many cultures, from Native American to Russian, Japanese, Arabian, Egyptian and Chinese. It was a symbol in early Christianity. The phoenix reminds us that out of destruction comes rebirth and resurrection, and that the end is a new beginning.

A few years ago, I took a photo of a bird in the Venice lagoon striking a "La Fenice" pose, almost like it was auditioning to be the poster bird of Venice, which I will share with you again.

Venice Lagoon Bird Strikes "La Fenice" Pose

Venice lagoon bird strikes La Fenice pose - Photo: Cat Bauer

(Venice, Italy) In the early morning hours, this bird in the Venice lagoon struck a "La Fenice" pose.

As we all know, La Fenice means, "the Phoenix," the bird that is eternally reborn, that burns and then rises from the ashes. The phoenix is a royal bird, associated with the sun.

The name of the opera house here in Venice is called "La Fenice," one of the most famous opera houses in Europe. It has burned and risen from the ashes more times than we can count.

 

The phoenix is one of my favorite symbols. They say it is a mythical bird, but I like to imagine that it's real. 

Ciao from Venezia,

Cat Bauer

Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog

The Arctic - The Final Frontier - Dramatic Photos of a Vanishing World at Tre Oci in Venice

Iceland © Ragnar Axelsson (1995)

(Venice, Italy) The climate on Earth is changing. It is an awesome thought, one that most human beings have difficulty processing, so we choose to ignore it. Three master photographers, however, have gone to the Arctic and stared the phenomenon straight in the face, recording the images to share with the rest of civilization.

The Arctic. The Final Frontier (Artico. Ultima frontiera), curated by Denis Curti, the artistic director of the Tre Oci, presents 120 powerful black and white images captured by Paolo Solari Bozzi (Rome, 1957), Ragnar Axelsson (Kopavogur, Iceland, 1958) and Carsten Egevang (Taastrup, Denmark, 1969). Three documentaries are also on show, Sila and the Gatekeepers of the Arctic by Corina Gamma from Switzerland, Chasing Ice by Jeff Orlowski from the U.S., and the Last Ice Hunters by Jure Breceljnik & Rozie Bregar from the Czech Republic.

What is the Arctic? It consists of the Arctic Ocean, and parts of Alaska, Canada, Finland, Greenland, Iceland, Norway, Russia and Sweden. Greenland, the world's largest island, is part of the Kingdom of Denmark, with a small population of about 56,000 (the same as tiny Venice); 88% of Greenland's inhabitants are Inuit. The United States offered Denmark $100 million for Greenland after war, but Denmark refused to sell.

81% of Greenland is covered by an enormous ice sheet, which is rapidly melting. Greenland is rich with mineral and natural resources, including diamond, gold, precious gemstones, hydrocarbon, rare earth metals, lead and zinc. There could be oil and gas fields up there, too. To put things in terms Americans can relate to, it would be as if a handful of Native Americans were sitting on a bunch of precious treasures the world lusts after, armed with sled dogs and harpoons.

East Greenland, Scoresbysund © Carsten Egevang (2012)

Carsten Egevang is here from Denmark with his two very blond, blue-eyed sons, one of whom was born in Greenland. Trained as a biologist, Egevang was awarded a PhD in Arctic Biology at the University of Copenhagen -- one of those climate-change scientists we hear so much about. He lived in Nuuk, Greenland's capital, from 2002 to 2008, and returns at least three times a year. I was thrilled to have the opportunity to speak to a credentialed individual who is actually there on the climate-changing scene.

Egevang said that when he first started taking photos of Greenland, he was drawn to the beauty of its landscapes, the icebergs, the Northern Lights and the arctic fauna. If he captured a human being or a man-made object, he tossed it out. Now his mission is to document how the natives of Greenland still rely on the nature that surrounds them. He captures the interactions between the people and the animals there, depicting them as elements of the breathtaking landscapes.

Egevang said, "When we hear about climate change, we think it is something that will happen in the future. It is happening now. The sea ice is melting and the temperature is 20 degrees higher than normal."

I asked him how to present climate change as something people could relate to, something in which they had the power to intervene. He said that we could compare it to smoking. Within a relatively short period of time, human beings have completely changed their behavior toward smoking, which, at one time, seemed nearly impossible to accomplish. We must change our behavior toward fossil fuels, or risk being overwhelmed by nature.

Peter Egevant with his father's photos - Photo: Cat Bauer

I spoke to Egevang's 14-year-old son, Peter, who was born in Greenland, and lived there until he was four. He had recently returned there with his father after an absence of about 10 years. I asked him how it had changed. Peter said that it was difficult to recall because he was so young when he left, but he remembered that "everything was white when I was little. Now it's green. ...and the snow bears -- I don't remember this word in English -- the snow bears are dying." He pointed to a bear in one of his father's photos. "Polar bear?" I offered. "Yes," he agreed. "The polar bears are dying."

Paolo Solari Bozzi, Kap Hope, Scoresbysund, East Greenland, 2016 © Paolo Solari

Carsten Egevang said he was in a remote village with about 400 inhabitants when, astonishingly, he bumped into the photographer Paolo Solari Bozzi and his wife, Marina, "two Italians with shiny clothes." Paolo Solari Bozzi was on the eastern coast of Greenland between February and April 2016, recording the everyday life of a populace "that has chosen to live in a difficult environment."

I left for Greenland thinking that I was going to meet the Inuit with their bear and sea furs. But I soon realized that it was not going to be like that because today the Inuit wear Western clothing and their kids all own a cell phone. The Inuit are going through a delicate transition phase that is causing them to abandon centuries-old traditions, replacing them with those of today's world. Their grandparents still lived underground. Some say they were better off then than they are now because at least they were sheltered from the harsh weather that their small wooden houses imported from Denmark can't keep out when the wind blows over 200 km an hour.

Nenets, Siberia © Ragnar Axelsson (2016)

The third photographer, Ragnar Axelsson, or RAX, was born in Iceland in 1958 and has been a professional since he was 16-years-old. He has dedicated his career to documenting the fate and people of the North, "hunters, fishermen and farmers of the circumpolar area who live on the fringes of the habitable world." He believes that the traditional culture of the Arctic people is disappearing, and will not be able to resist the disruptive effects of the larger forces of economy and climate change.

It happened in Thule some twenty-five years ago. As I was walking by a small house, I noticed the old man who lived there standing at the front door, looking at the sky and sniffing the air. Every morning for five days, I saw him standing there in the same spot, always sniffing the air and staring at the ice of the fjord that was melting. I couldn't understand what the old man was saying, he just kept muttering the same words over and over, so one morning I asked a friend to come with me and translate his thoughts.

What the old man was saying was: "It shouldn't be like this, something's wrong. The big ice is sick." What he wanted to tell me was that the ice had never been like this before, that it shouldn't be like this. Those potent words spoken by a wise old man moved me. That man had always been a part of nature, and he was worried now because he sensed a change in the air.

Thule, Qaanaq, Greenland © Ragnar Axelsson (1987)

I also watched Chasing Ice by Jeff Orlowski, the powerful documentary which tracks James Balog, the Fine Art and Nature photographer, and his dramatic use of time-lapse photography to capture immense chunks of ice sheets cracking and crumbling into icy lakes.

When you watch a glacier disappear in front of your eyes, it makes a deep impression. Mankind has been successful at harnessing the power of nature over the centuries, but what is happening is so majestically horrifying, so immense, and so rapid, it is almost as if God is issuing a new, greater challenge: Clean up your act, or get wiped off the face of the earth. The flood is coming, we can be sure, but, hopefully, this time we have the wisdom to contain it.

The Arctic. The Final Frontier - Artico. Ultima Frontiera runs at Tre Oci from January 15 through April 2, 2017 and is a MUST SEE -- even if the building were empty, the 1913 neo-gothic beautifully restored structure is something to see, and they are always doing some cool photography thing. Go to Casa dei Tre Oci, for more information.

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

Clock Tower in Venice - The Magi Appear! Epiphany 2017

Clock Tower in Piazza San Marco on Epiphany - Photo: Cat Bauer

(Venice, Italy) Today, the Angel Gabriel, blowing his horn, appeared out on the Clock Tower here in Venice, followed by the Three Magi, who bowed and saluted to the Madonna and Child, something they only do twice a year-- today, the Epiphany, and again on Ascension Day.

Clock Face - Photo: Musei Civici

The Clock Tower, or Torre dell'Orologio, was inaugurated on February 1, 1499, more than 500 years ago. Rich with symbolism, the Venetians designed an astronomical clock, which moves through the signs of the Zodiac, as well as keeping time.

Photo: ReidsItaly

On the top of the tower are two enormous bronze statues known as the Moors, more than eight and a half feet tall (2.6 meters) -- one old, one young -- two Wild Men who swing a hammer to clang out the passage of time. The Moors are nude under their sheaths of vines, and are well-endowed (yes, I looked).

Beneath the Moors on the top of the Clock Tower is the winged Lion of San Marco, the symbol of Venice, holding an open book. Originally, there was a statue of Doge Agostino Barbarigo kneeling before the lion, but when Napoleon's soldiers invaded Venice in 1797, down it came.

Photo: Heather McDougal - Cabinet of Wonders Blog

Gabriel and the Wise Men used to come out every hour when the clock was first constructed, but they haven't done that for centuries. Now, they emerge just those two days a year — at midday on the Epiphany and on Ascension Day — and if you are not there at the precise moment to witness it, it is over in a flash. Otherwise, the doors where they exit and enter show the hour in Roman numerals on the left, and every five minutes in Hindu-Arabic on the right.

Photo: Venezia Unica

Gabriel and the Three Magi came out today, bells clamoring throughout Piazza San Marco. For the rest of the year, they reside inside the clock. You can see them if you take the Clock Tower tour. I went on the tour many years ago when I wrote a piece about it back in 2008 as the Venice Insider for Ninemsn, and I thought it was fascinating. Back then, interesting, quirky people took the Clock Tower tour:

Cinderella Bells

Only a handful of people usually show up for the tour of the inner workings of the newly restored St Mark's Clock, which was first inaugurated on February 1, 1499 by Doge Agostino Barbarigo. Five hundred years ago, Venetians built an astronomical clock that had five planets which moved around the earth (only the sun and the moon remain), two Moors that struck the time two minutes before and after the hour, and three Magi that circled the Madonna.

For half a millennium, a watchman actually lived with his family in the Clock Tower; the last one left in 1998. After almost a decade of arguing about restoration procedures, the clock was finally up and running again in 2006. Aga is the name of one vivacious and informative guide who does English tours. A visit to the clock tower also offers one of the most spectacular views of Venice.

Photo: Musei Civici

I have long become accustomed to telling time by the bells of Venice. I don't wear a watch; the bells tell me when to wake up, when to go to sleep, when I am running late, or ahead of schedule.

From the Cambridge Dictionary:

epiphany

noun 

uk ​ /ɪˈpɪf.ən.i/ us ​ /ɪˈpɪf.ən.i/ literary 

a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand, or suddenly become conscious of, something that is very important to you

a powerful religious experience

Of course, the Epiphany is also the day of the Befana, when male Venetians in drag dress as female witches and race on the Grand Canal. I have written about the singular event many, many times before. Click to read one of my favorites:

Befana 2014 - Epiphany! Venice has got the Relics of St. Nick!

Giant Wild Men clanging an enormous bell... The Lion of San Marco.... The Madonna and Child... the Angel Gabriel and Three Magi circling... An astronomical clock that moves through the signs of the Zodiac.... constructed during the Renaissance in Venice... Things to ponder during the Epiphany.

Happy Epiphany,
Cat Bauer
Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog

The Symphony of Venice - Happy New Year! 2017

Virgin with Child and Angels by Sansovino - Photo: Cat Bauer

(Venice, Italy) At its best, Venice is like a symphony, filled with playful violins and blaring trumpets, haughty flutes and noble French horns. Strings, brass, woodwinds and percussion blend together to create a colorful composition, with church bells chiming in the background, and an occasional piano or harp chortling through.

Many elements try to join the dynamic orchestra; some blend in beautifully, adding rich textures to the music. Others, however, play off-key, or are in the wrong tune, or do not realize that the tempo has changed. The orchestra is clever at handling these discordant elements, and keeps on playing on.

There are adagios and allegros, with thunderous crescendos, and whispers so soft that you can hear the sparrows sing. The water lapping in the lagoon underlies the entire composition, like a liquid Gregorian chant.

There is a conductor, but you can't see her -- she is somewhere on high, close to the sun.

The New Year Just After Midnight - Venice 2017

HARMONY IN 2017

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