Even the Art Museums are treasures of antiquity in Italy. If you happen upon the Uffizi Gallery, the building is honestly as much a treasure as the art (and these are some of the greatest examples of their era).
You know that feeling you get…only sometimes, in the absence of the light. I have tried to explain how Venice changes once the sun goes down. I never explain it right. I always make it seem sinister, or like some corny spook house. Boo! That’s not it at all. It is more like the veil between realms is…more delicate there. Maybe it’s just the history. Often the oldest of places have more…personality. I love taking these long exposures at night. Despite my near von Aschenbach respiratory malady I stayed out past sunset. Even the January cold (and rain) could not keep me from the Venetian Night.
I got up early this day to walk across the Ponte dell’Accademia in Venice, Italy. I was hoping to catch the sunrise on the bridge and since I was so close I figured I would go to the Basilica of Santa Maria della Salute. You probably recognize this church from photos shot from St Mark’s Square at sunset. The Basilica dominates the view in the West from the main square, but because you have to cross the Grand Canal, its out of the way nature makes it seem almost an after thought. I was lucky to be the only person at the Basilica that morning (another couple was leaving as I was entering) and I absolutely LOVE to catch birds in flight on a wet morning!
I love the little things you find when traveling. Sure the guidebook provides some historical context and the highlights that are NOT to be missed, but often I most enjoy the serendipity that abounds when I am away from the familiar. All around, people have created beautiful things. We often fail to realize the beauty all around and maybe that is because of familiarity. This carved stone equal armed cross was on the side of a building in Venice as I walked one early morning to Santa Maria della Salute. I could have easily missed it or walked by, but instead I brought it back to share its beauty with all of you.
If ever there were a place for the Vampire to roam, it would be Venice. I constantly think of returning here, but have held off this year in favor of Florence and Rome (I have not YET visited these two cities). The thing is, there is so much motion and tone in Venice. It can be a bit TOO easy to find something to photograph, but honestly that is nothing to complain about!
Here is the thing about Venice, Italy…even the most ordinary scenes take on some of the magic that is all around this city of the sea. Just take a look at this wrought iron window lodged in a brick wall in one of the many narrow walkways throughout the city. The bricks are interestingly worn down by time and touch. The iron is abused by the salt air. There is a beauty in the etching of time and sea and this is a part of the wonder of Venice.
I recently talked about the feeling of a photo, and trying to capture how a place felt. I don’t say things like this often, but today’s photo might well be one of the best I have ever done. I am not speaking of the technical aspects of composition or even timing. This is how Venice FELT to me this last winter. Dark shadows, muted, cold. I long to go back. I can’t begin imagine the place in the summer. Winter in Venice seemed to fit me perfectly. Hopefully I can visit again this January or February, wandering, a bit lost in the icy cold air, with a copy or Watermark in hand. Feeling the city that is not separate from the sea.
I took the earliest train I could find into Venice that morning. As I stepped off the train station steps, I felt the undulation of Venice. The city wasn’t awake yet, the sun with just coming up and Italians get a later start to the day. Crossing my first bridge, I luckily had my camera up because the man with the red bag came walking down by himself, destined for work no doubt. I caught this singular frame of his day, but one was all I needed to recall my first moments in Venice.
Venice is a city of many sides, but the setting of the sun turns the city of Venice into another other-worldly place. It is almost a magical transformation. Sunset seems to linger, bidding those that do not wish to see the cities darker side, go home…return to your hotel. Once the night takes hold, it becomes deathly quiet. The narrow walkways and close buildings bring a sense of extreme claustrophobia. Every path is a darkened alley holding the unknown. By day you are surrounded by visages of death…masks of the plague. These are gone by night, but their specter haunts you … as do the dead from that time still buried beneath the cobblestone streets. I didn’t stay long in the evening, but what I did see, told me it would make the best of photo projects.
I couldn’t believe my luck in Venice. Not only was the weather warm (for January) the sunset had been spectacular. Despite my worsening bronchial infection one I knew would require antibiotics, I didn’t want to leave St. Mark’s Square for the hotel. I continued to wander around as darkness overtook Venice the city began to show its other side. It’s a side of Venice I didn’t have time to find…one of dimly light, ancient cobblestone streets and masked figures.
