We departed Venice Wednesday afternoon, flying Lufthansa to Frankfurt, then to Singapore and onto Melbourne and Canberra with Qantas, arriving home around ten am on Friday 26 May 2017.
Virtually every day away included interesting insights into different regions of Italy, particularly Sicily, their history, art, culture and food. A most enjoyable experience.
Sunday, May 28, 2017
Venice Monday 22 to Wednesday 24 May 2017
These three days were
taken up with art, more art, and even more art.
Highlights were the Rauschenberg
exhibition on the island of San Giorgio Maggiore which contrasted and compared his
silkscreen works to that of Andy Warhol, the Galleria Giorgio Franchetti which
had a wonderful exhibition of tapestries and carpets from the Zaleski
collection, plus some wonderful renaissance art, all set in a wonderful piazza
with tiles floors and mosaic walls, and the exhibition of paintings by Phillip
Gunston at the Galleria Accademia. So much to take in, so very hard not to be
spoilt as you walk by just another renaissance masterpiece!
In addition, in the
realm of artistic bling, we spent some time checking out Damien Hirst’s massive
over the top exhibition of hundreds of coral encrusted and ‘restored’ Treasures from the Wreck of the Unbelievable.
Despite the technical brilliance of the work in creating classical statues and artefacts,
and in many cases encrusting them in colorful faux coral, my reaction was
rather negative, feeling that it was a cynical excercise in viewer manipulation.
In fact, it self-references this cynicism by the addition of two or three coral
encrusted statues of Disney cartoon characters Goofy and Micky Mouse, and ‘the
collector’, a representation of Hirst himself. The New York Times review of the
Biennale by Holland Cotter (link
here), which I came across only after I had seen the Hirst exhibition
expressed similar views; I quote:
I’m instinctively sympathetic
to career-salvaging efforts on an artist’s part, which this work is rumored to
be. And experience has taught me that damning criticism can be as useful,
promotion-wise, as praise. So I don’t have much to say about “Treasures of the
Wreck” except that it’s there; that some people care; and that it’s irrelevant
to anything I know about that matters.
We managed to eat
lightly, and also spend some time exploring the back streets of Guidecca, which
includes two prisons, a swathe of public housing, a walled garden with a back
gate with the name ‘Garden of Eden’, and a couple of luxury hotels located in
former industrial factories. A later google search revealed that the ‘Garden of
Eden’ was in fact the former summer retreat of British Prime Minister Anthony Eden’s
father.
All in all, a very
pleasant end to our stay in Venice.
Monday, May 22, 2017
Rotonda, Salerno and Venice 15 May to 21 May
I have been rather remiss in keeping this blog up to date, and as a consequence, will have to summarise severely, and keep to the highlights.
Monday 15 May was spent driving from Reitano in Sicily to Retonda in Basilicata, located in the Pollino National Park, a region of lush vegetation, steep mountains, valleys dotted with villages, and winding roads. We arrived at our B&B late afternoon, were warmly welcomed by our host Giaccomo, offered coffee and then showed to our room, which was comfortable, but basic. Dinner was essentially a selection of assorted and delicious antipasto. A later meal he cooked was also delicious.
The following days were spent exploring the park and the various towns and villages there. One day was wet, and our laxness meant that we didn't do much walking, not helped by the information on potential walks in the park being scarce and not well presented. Nevertheless, we enjoyed exploring, and found the food interesting.
On Thursday 18 May we drove north to Salerno, returning our hire car ( a relief as driving in southern Italy is not without stress!), overnighting in a B&B in the centre of the city. We explored the old city, and enjoyed the cathedral and the nearby diocesan museum.
On Friday, we took the train to Naples, and then struggled to find the correct bus to take us to the airport. The area around the central train station was absolute chaos, with milling crowds on the footpaths, and a seeming ant heap of vehicles on the roads. When we finally found the correct bus stop, and after a thirty minute wait, the correct bus arrived, we set off for the airport, only to have the bus stranded in a narrow side street near the station by a parked car which had its rear end projecting onto the road, thus preventing the bus from passing. Meanwhile traffic backed up in the narrow street behind he bus, horns began blaring, agitated drivers eventually came forward to assess the problem, the local business owners came onto the street to watch what would transpire, the municipal police were called, and when they arrived they stood around consulting amongst themselves as to the best course of action. In short, it was a minor urban crisis.
I tried to stay calm, remembering that the time before check in closed was steadily approaching....Eventually, four or five men, who appeared to be local passers-by, took it upon themselves to shimmy and jerk and bounce the offending car out of the way, the driver put the bus into gear, and we proceeded off into the traffic as if nothing untoward had occurred....
We made our flight with a little time to spare, and arrived in Venice shortly before five pm....after a 90 minute ferry ride, we were deposited on the island of Guidecca, directly opposite piazza San Marco. A short while later, we were in our apartment, with wonderful views across the channel to the piazza, and the venice skyline.
Saturday and Sunday were dedicated to checking out the Biennale, Saturday at the Giardini, Sunday at the Arsenale. Both days were terrific, lots of stimulating art, quite a bit of art which missed the mark, and all housed in wonderful settings. A tremendous serendipitous bonus, as we had not planned this vacation with the Biennale in mind.
Highlights of our wandering on Saturday were the Russian exhibit featuring contributions by Grisha Bruskin and Sasha Pirogova, who managed to present an engaging integrated exhibit of sculpture, video and sound which comprised a critique of mass movements, consumerism, and authoritarianism at a level of abstraction which made it relevant to any nation or part of the world.
Tracy Moffat, Australia's representative, certainly held her own. Her contribution was entitled'My Horizon', but inevitably it challenges the viewer to think about his or her own horizons, both real and metaphorical. Moffat presented two sets of photographs and two short videos, focussed on universal themes: memory, loss, and in her best piece, a searing video which depicted the horror of watching a disaster while being totally powerless to do anything about it....the particular case she presented was the smashing of a refugee vessel into rocks on the shore of Christmas Island a few years ago, powerfully depicted through animation intercut with frames from a range of films which depicted people watching in horror some event from afar. This approach had the effect of abstracting the issue, so that she was making a statement about more than the disaster depicted, but about more general issues, of refugees, but potentially any issue where citizens are involved (and thus complicit) in events or issues which are beyond the capacity of individuals to influence or shape.
There were other exhibits in the Giardini which deserve mention: the Greek artist George Drivas' contribution, the Laboratory of Dilemmas based upon Aeschylus' play Iketides (Suppliant Women). While Drivas' formulation (video, sound, and a maze like structure which viewers of the installation were required to traverse) was cast in terms of a debate amongst a group of medical scientists about what to do with a cell experiment which had been compromised by an intrusion of new and foreign cells, Aeschylus' original was about the dilemma of assisting a group of pursued foreigners at the risk of placing the safety of the community at risk from their pursuers. The resonance with current issues of refugees were difficult to miss. Drivas doesn't resolve the dilemma, but merely explores its ramifications, and the meta-dynamics of those who have an interest in seeing issues resolved one way or another. Resolution is left to individual viewers. I particularly liked one comment made by the chief scientist about the experiment where he notes the propensity of rats in a maze to persist in moving forward until they find their way out...and the contrast with the maze which viewers are required to traverse a maze to understand the issues addressed, all the while under the view of other viewers above who have already traversed the maze.
There was much else: a poignant video interview with the son of one of Alberto Giacometti's early lovers, recounting his mother's slide into anonymity and despair (implicitly contrasted with Giacometti's very different life trajectory). Somboon Hormtientong's Thai contribution which I found a quite thought provoking meditation on the replacement of traditional forms of life by modernity, and the consequences, costs, and implications of those processes.
On Sunday, we spent the day exploring the huge Arsenale complex, a gorgeous piece of renaissance architecture in its own right (it was the site of the Venetian city state's ship building enterprise in the fifteenth century). Again there were some stand outs: the Chinese pavilion dealt with traditional Chinese values of loss, resilience, and much more in a very powerful set of video installations around the theme of falling and gushing water and heaving oceans: their power, their rhythm, their persistence were almost overwhelming once one focussed on the screens. The Indonesian pavilion quirkily dealt with the nature of privacy and surveillance in the modern world creating a space with peep holes through which one could see eyes following your every movement. A sign mentioned that by entering the installation, visitors were giving permission to be filmed and that the footage might be used as part of the installation in the future. The Italian contribution was amazing for its macabre presentation of a factory which manufactures replicas of Jesus Christ from some organic material (wax?) which has already begun (and will continue to over the coming months) mould and decompose before the viewers' eyes (and noses!).....am not sure what it was meant to convey, but it was certainly memorable...it resonates with the Sicilian / Italian ? / Catholic preoccupation with death...
New Zealand was represented by Lisa Reihana, with a video installation entitled 'Emissaries': it was strangely enticing insofar as the film scrolled out slowly from right to left, with a series of vignettes acted out by Polynesian and anglo actors narrating episodes in the first contact between the British and the Polynesians. While the actors were real, they were placed in an idealised painted setting, which worked surprisingly well. The overarching narrative demonstrated the difficulties of cross cultural communication, the differing notions of property and rights of the british and the polynesians, and the degree to which resort to violence rests not very far below the surface of any society. What didn't quite work was the shifting focus from a New Zealand and Maori narrative, the inclusion of Captain James Cook's engagemnt in Australia (the inclusion of a group of clearly Arnhem Land dancers in one vignette jarred!) and Hawaii (which was clearly included to enable the film to narrate Cook's death). Still, the installation has stayed with me, surely the sign that it is communicating something important.
Finally there was the Tunisian contribution: a human performance based around the issuance of a universal travel document to interested applicants....which proclaims that the owner (or at least this owner) is of unknown origin, of unknown destination, and has the status of a migrant...I guess that is in many respects a fitting description for life itself....My document was stamped by the official at the desk, who took my thumbprint, and inspected my face (without glasses) with a stamp which proclaimed the name of the installation: 'the absence of paths', and confirmed that i was 'Only Human'. There was much else of interest, too much for me to summarise....
One obvious theme which emerged form the experience of two days surveying a global selection of artists' work was a general focus, even concern, about the status and treatment of refugees. The sophistication of the art differed considerably: while some of the work struck the viewer with a sledge hammer, much raised the issue in a much more nuanced and indeterminate way,the New Zealand film being a case in point.
Apart from the art, we have been enjoying exploring the city's backways, finding some good places to eat, and are yet to visit Piazza San Marco (we have been there before, and it is absolutely overrun with tourists). Our apartment on Guidecca is the perfect location; close to the centre of the city, but far enough away to provide some space to move.
Monday 15 May was spent driving from Reitano in Sicily to Retonda in Basilicata, located in the Pollino National Park, a region of lush vegetation, steep mountains, valleys dotted with villages, and winding roads. We arrived at our B&B late afternoon, were warmly welcomed by our host Giaccomo, offered coffee and then showed to our room, which was comfortable, but basic. Dinner was essentially a selection of assorted and delicious antipasto. A later meal he cooked was also delicious.
The following days were spent exploring the park and the various towns and villages there. One day was wet, and our laxness meant that we didn't do much walking, not helped by the information on potential walks in the park being scarce and not well presented. Nevertheless, we enjoyed exploring, and found the food interesting.
On Thursday 18 May we drove north to Salerno, returning our hire car ( a relief as driving in southern Italy is not without stress!), overnighting in a B&B in the centre of the city. We explored the old city, and enjoyed the cathedral and the nearby diocesan museum.
On Friday, we took the train to Naples, and then struggled to find the correct bus to take us to the airport. The area around the central train station was absolute chaos, with milling crowds on the footpaths, and a seeming ant heap of vehicles on the roads. When we finally found the correct bus stop, and after a thirty minute wait, the correct bus arrived, we set off for the airport, only to have the bus stranded in a narrow side street near the station by a parked car which had its rear end projecting onto the road, thus preventing the bus from passing. Meanwhile traffic backed up in the narrow street behind he bus, horns began blaring, agitated drivers eventually came forward to assess the problem, the local business owners came onto the street to watch what would transpire, the municipal police were called, and when they arrived they stood around consulting amongst themselves as to the best course of action. In short, it was a minor urban crisis.
I tried to stay calm, remembering that the time before check in closed was steadily approaching....Eventually, four or five men, who appeared to be local passers-by, took it upon themselves to shimmy and jerk and bounce the offending car out of the way, the driver put the bus into gear, and we proceeded off into the traffic as if nothing untoward had occurred....
We made our flight with a little time to spare, and arrived in Venice shortly before five pm....after a 90 minute ferry ride, we were deposited on the island of Guidecca, directly opposite piazza San Marco. A short while later, we were in our apartment, with wonderful views across the channel to the piazza, and the venice skyline.
Saturday and Sunday were dedicated to checking out the Biennale, Saturday at the Giardini, Sunday at the Arsenale. Both days were terrific, lots of stimulating art, quite a bit of art which missed the mark, and all housed in wonderful settings. A tremendous serendipitous bonus, as we had not planned this vacation with the Biennale in mind.
Highlights of our wandering on Saturday were the Russian exhibit featuring contributions by Grisha Bruskin and Sasha Pirogova, who managed to present an engaging integrated exhibit of sculpture, video and sound which comprised a critique of mass movements, consumerism, and authoritarianism at a level of abstraction which made it relevant to any nation or part of the world.
Tracy Moffat, Australia's representative, certainly held her own. Her contribution was entitled'My Horizon', but inevitably it challenges the viewer to think about his or her own horizons, both real and metaphorical. Moffat presented two sets of photographs and two short videos, focussed on universal themes: memory, loss, and in her best piece, a searing video which depicted the horror of watching a disaster while being totally powerless to do anything about it....the particular case she presented was the smashing of a refugee vessel into rocks on the shore of Christmas Island a few years ago, powerfully depicted through animation intercut with frames from a range of films which depicted people watching in horror some event from afar. This approach had the effect of abstracting the issue, so that she was making a statement about more than the disaster depicted, but about more general issues, of refugees, but potentially any issue where citizens are involved (and thus complicit) in events or issues which are beyond the capacity of individuals to influence or shape.
There were other exhibits in the Giardini which deserve mention: the Greek artist George Drivas' contribution, the Laboratory of Dilemmas based upon Aeschylus' play Iketides (Suppliant Women). While Drivas' formulation (video, sound, and a maze like structure which viewers of the installation were required to traverse) was cast in terms of a debate amongst a group of medical scientists about what to do with a cell experiment which had been compromised by an intrusion of new and foreign cells, Aeschylus' original was about the dilemma of assisting a group of pursued foreigners at the risk of placing the safety of the community at risk from their pursuers. The resonance with current issues of refugees were difficult to miss. Drivas doesn't resolve the dilemma, but merely explores its ramifications, and the meta-dynamics of those who have an interest in seeing issues resolved one way or another. Resolution is left to individual viewers. I particularly liked one comment made by the chief scientist about the experiment where he notes the propensity of rats in a maze to persist in moving forward until they find their way out...and the contrast with the maze which viewers are required to traverse a maze to understand the issues addressed, all the while under the view of other viewers above who have already traversed the maze.
There was much else: a poignant video interview with the son of one of Alberto Giacometti's early lovers, recounting his mother's slide into anonymity and despair (implicitly contrasted with Giacometti's very different life trajectory). Somboon Hormtientong's Thai contribution which I found a quite thought provoking meditation on the replacement of traditional forms of life by modernity, and the consequences, costs, and implications of those processes.
On Sunday, we spent the day exploring the huge Arsenale complex, a gorgeous piece of renaissance architecture in its own right (it was the site of the Venetian city state's ship building enterprise in the fifteenth century). Again there were some stand outs: the Chinese pavilion dealt with traditional Chinese values of loss, resilience, and much more in a very powerful set of video installations around the theme of falling and gushing water and heaving oceans: their power, their rhythm, their persistence were almost overwhelming once one focussed on the screens. The Indonesian pavilion quirkily dealt with the nature of privacy and surveillance in the modern world creating a space with peep holes through which one could see eyes following your every movement. A sign mentioned that by entering the installation, visitors were giving permission to be filmed and that the footage might be used as part of the installation in the future. The Italian contribution was amazing for its macabre presentation of a factory which manufactures replicas of Jesus Christ from some organic material (wax?) which has already begun (and will continue to over the coming months) mould and decompose before the viewers' eyes (and noses!).....am not sure what it was meant to convey, but it was certainly memorable...it resonates with the Sicilian / Italian ? / Catholic preoccupation with death...
New Zealand was represented by Lisa Reihana, with a video installation entitled 'Emissaries': it was strangely enticing insofar as the film scrolled out slowly from right to left, with a series of vignettes acted out by Polynesian and anglo actors narrating episodes in the first contact between the British and the Polynesians. While the actors were real, they were placed in an idealised painted setting, which worked surprisingly well. The overarching narrative demonstrated the difficulties of cross cultural communication, the differing notions of property and rights of the british and the polynesians, and the degree to which resort to violence rests not very far below the surface of any society. What didn't quite work was the shifting focus from a New Zealand and Maori narrative, the inclusion of Captain James Cook's engagemnt in Australia (the inclusion of a group of clearly Arnhem Land dancers in one vignette jarred!) and Hawaii (which was clearly included to enable the film to narrate Cook's death). Still, the installation has stayed with me, surely the sign that it is communicating something important.
Finally there was the Tunisian contribution: a human performance based around the issuance of a universal travel document to interested applicants....which proclaims that the owner (or at least this owner) is of unknown origin, of unknown destination, and has the status of a migrant...I guess that is in many respects a fitting description for life itself....My document was stamped by the official at the desk, who took my thumbprint, and inspected my face (without glasses) with a stamp which proclaimed the name of the installation: 'the absence of paths', and confirmed that i was 'Only Human'. There was much else of interest, too much for me to summarise....
One obvious theme which emerged form the experience of two days surveying a global selection of artists' work was a general focus, even concern, about the status and treatment of refugees. The sophistication of the art differed considerably: while some of the work struck the viewer with a sledge hammer, much raised the issue in a much more nuanced and indeterminate way,the New Zealand film being a case in point.
Apart from the art, we have been enjoying exploring the city's backways, finding some good places to eat, and are yet to visit Piazza San Marco (we have been there before, and it is absolutely overrun with tourists). Our apartment on Guidecca is the perfect location; close to the centre of the city, but far enough away to provide some space to move.
Monday, May 15, 2017
Palermo and the Nebrodi Mountains
Palermo and the Nebrodi Mountains Friday 12 May to Sunday 14 May
2017
Friday was a fascinating day. We decided to visit one of the major art
galleries we had not yet visited, and to check out a museum dedicated to the
history of the Spanish inquisition in Sicily.
The Inquisition museum was in an old palace fronting the Piazza Marina
(the site of autos de fe and public executions), the Palazzo Steri o
Chiaramonte. It had previously been used as a prison for those targeted by the
Inquisition in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, and recent
archeological work has revealed the extensive graffiti left by those
imprisoned. Our tour guide was extremely informative, and explained that the
inquisition operated as the most powerful arm of the state in Sicily at that
time, with the power to veto decisions of the Spanish viceroy; that it targeted
mainly educated and commercial individuals as one of the consequences of being
convicted of heresy or the like was the appropriation of all lands and property
owned by the individual.
The museum had no torture machines, nor any exhibits apart from a bell which was rung when the inquisition were
present and undertaking their inquiries, and when executions were to be carried
out, as the machines and virtually all records of the inquisition had all been
destroyed when the inquisition was ceased in 1734, but focussed solely on the
graffiti on the walls. A small archive has survived from records in the Sicilian
courts. The drawings and texts were quite diverse, some of the art naïve, but
some quite skilled. The very existence of written texts confirmed the social
status of those imprisoned, as most Sicilians in that time would have not been
literate. While most texts were in Italian or Sicilian, a number were in Latin,
and one was in English. While most were not overtly critical of their
oppressors, and indeed were often overtly religious, a number were subtly
critical of the ‘justice’ being administered in the prison, and some graffiti
in the latrine spaces in each cell were overtly critical. The researchers concluded
that the state of the latrines was such that no prison officials would ever
enter them. A small number of graffiti had been signed which has enabled
researchers to establish the details of the offences, and the punishments
inflicted. Apart from execution and terms of imprisonment of three to seven
years, victims were stripped of most civil rights upon release (eg not able to
sign legal documents, thus preventing ownership of property), and often these
punishments were inflicted on the descendants of the victims sometimes for up
to four generations.
Our guide also recounted the story of one of the only two prisoners of
the inquisition who ever killed an inquisitor, a prisoner who was a priest who
was alleged to have taken the lord’s name in vain, and was imprisoned for a
number of years, and who during an interview with an inquisitor, managed to
pick up an iron bar on the table and kill the inquisitor. He was manacled in a
chair for a couple of years while advice was sought from Spain. He was
eventually burned at the stake.
After lunch in a nearby trattoria, we headed into the Galleria de la
Palazzo Abatellis, which houses an extraordinary collection of renaissance art
sourced from nearby churches. While mainly painted by local artists, the
quality was superb, particularly the earlier byzantine styles. The visit to
this gallery was certainly a highlight.
Of course, the paradox is that at the very same time that the church was
sponsoring the creation of world class art to reinforce the precepts of
Christianity and Roman Catholicism, the inquisition was exercising an extreme
form of authoritarian power and state sponsored terror over its own citizens.
On Saturday, our friends departed for Milan, and we headed east to a
B&B in the Modoni mountains near the town of Reitano, taking a rather
roundabout route which took us south and then north so as to wend our way
through the countryside. The roads were quite rough, and there were extensive
roadworks, including massive tunnels, over sections of tens of kilometres,
which appeared to have been started, but not completed. Clearly limited budgets
for road and infrastructure construction is not just an Australian problem. As
our B&B is comfortable and quite isolated, we ate in ( a simple meal of
delicious Sicilian antipasto), and had an early night.
Today (Sunday), we drove further east to the Nebrodi mountains. After
driving into the mountains, we went on a delightful two and half hour walk
through the beech forest to a small lake near the summit of Mt Sono, Sicily’s
second highest mountain. At various points, there were terrific views north to
the Aeolian Islands (Alicudi, Filicudi, and some others) and east to Mount
Etna.
Replacing lunch with morning and afternoon tea in the town of San
Stafano di Camestro, we returned to our base to find the restaurant full of people
celebrating someone’s birthday (we think).
Tomorrow we depart Sicily for the Basilicata region in southern Italy
where we hope to do some more walking.
Thursday, May 11, 2017
From Erice to Palermo:9 to 11 May 2017
We departed Erice straight after breakfast, having decided to head to Monreale before entering Palermo where the traffic and parking is reputed to be a challenge.
Monreale cathedral was breathtaking, an exquisite abundance of byzantine/arab/norman influenced mosaics covering virtually the whole ceiling and upper sides of the nave. I have been in many churches and cathedrals, but I cannot remember one as beautiful as Monreale. I wont try to describe it; rather I suggest interested readers google it and enjoy. What was particularly impressive was not merely the workmanship, but the overall conception of the artistic design, the consistent quality, and the design variety within consistent patterns on a grand scale.
The drive into Palermo was uneventful.
The following two days have been dedicated to exploring the city, mainly its historic centre. Our focus has been on the key churches, the markets and artisan areas, the art museums, and finding good places to eat. The city is terrific for walking, with much of the two main streets bisecting the centre of the city closed to vehicular traffic, making it a rival to Barcelona for its capacity to facilitate locals and tourists alike to take a pleasant afternoon or evening stroll through the centre of the city.
The city has a strong edgy feel, lots of graffiti, both good and bad quality. There are many small artisan shops, a good number of book shops, and plenty of street stalls catering to the passing tourist trade. People have been friendly and helpful on the whole.
A visit this morning to the Cappuchin catacombs which house some 8000 deceased citizens of the city from the last three or four centuries, many pegged to the wall in a standing position, wearing faded and disintegrating clothes, and looking down on their visitors in a variety of expressions, from surprise to blithe insouciance, was a rather macabre experience. My overwhelming feeling was of slight repugnance at my own morbid curiosity, and that I was intruding where I didn't need to go, and perhaps shouldn't go. It left me feeling much more firmly inclined towards a desire to be cremated when the time comes.
Sicilian culture is much more overtly focussed on death and the dead, with many churches displaying relics of saints, including bones, skulls, and other memento mori; and often including iconography of the skull and cross bones on tombs and other engravings. The shadow of the mafia's earlier power and influence appears to persist in various ways, and Palermo has successfully transformed itself from a city bound to mafia controlled politics, to one which celebrates its apparent victory over mafia control: in monuments acknowledging individuals assassinated by the mafia, in piazzas which have been returned to community control, and the like.
But the thin boundary between life and death appears to be ever present in cultural life in so many ways. Of course, it is arguable that it is the Sicilians who are the realists, and Australians such as myself live in an artificial bubble which one day will burst.
Palermo is a terrific city not just because of its gritty sicilianness, but its history, its art, and its people. It has been a pleasure to be here.
Monreale cathedral was breathtaking, an exquisite abundance of byzantine/arab/norman influenced mosaics covering virtually the whole ceiling and upper sides of the nave. I have been in many churches and cathedrals, but I cannot remember one as beautiful as Monreale. I wont try to describe it; rather I suggest interested readers google it and enjoy. What was particularly impressive was not merely the workmanship, but the overall conception of the artistic design, the consistent quality, and the design variety within consistent patterns on a grand scale.
The drive into Palermo was uneventful.
The following two days have been dedicated to exploring the city, mainly its historic centre. Our focus has been on the key churches, the markets and artisan areas, the art museums, and finding good places to eat. The city is terrific for walking, with much of the two main streets bisecting the centre of the city closed to vehicular traffic, making it a rival to Barcelona for its capacity to facilitate locals and tourists alike to take a pleasant afternoon or evening stroll through the centre of the city.
The city has a strong edgy feel, lots of graffiti, both good and bad quality. There are many small artisan shops, a good number of book shops, and plenty of street stalls catering to the passing tourist trade. People have been friendly and helpful on the whole.
A visit this morning to the Cappuchin catacombs which house some 8000 deceased citizens of the city from the last three or four centuries, many pegged to the wall in a standing position, wearing faded and disintegrating clothes, and looking down on their visitors in a variety of expressions, from surprise to blithe insouciance, was a rather macabre experience. My overwhelming feeling was of slight repugnance at my own morbid curiosity, and that I was intruding where I didn't need to go, and perhaps shouldn't go. It left me feeling much more firmly inclined towards a desire to be cremated when the time comes.
Sicilian culture is much more overtly focussed on death and the dead, with many churches displaying relics of saints, including bones, skulls, and other memento mori; and often including iconography of the skull and cross bones on tombs and other engravings. The shadow of the mafia's earlier power and influence appears to persist in various ways, and Palermo has successfully transformed itself from a city bound to mafia controlled politics, to one which celebrates its apparent victory over mafia control: in monuments acknowledging individuals assassinated by the mafia, in piazzas which have been returned to community control, and the like.
But the thin boundary between life and death appears to be ever present in cultural life in so many ways. Of course, it is arguable that it is the Sicilians who are the realists, and Australians such as myself live in an artificial bubble which one day will burst.
Palermo is a terrific city not just because of its gritty sicilianness, but its history, its art, and its people. It has been a pleasure to be here.
Monday, May 8, 2017
Erice 8 May 2017
We spent the day exploring the town of Erice, a rather delightful and
relaxing enterprise. We started with the Castello di Venere, or Castle of
Venus, so named because it was built on a former Temple dedicated to the
worship of the goddess Venus, and before her, to the Carthaginian goddess
Astarte.
Then followed a procession of visits to gardens, churches, bell towers,
monasteries and convents, and a couple of museums, none of extraordinary
interest in its own right, but the totality creating a sense of an enduring and
vibrant community with ancient roots which has persisted in the face of
extraordinary change over the centuries, and today is reinventing itself as
both a centre for intellectual pursuits (there seem to be a number of
institutes which host conferences and the like) and tourism.
For me, the attraction is the sense of history which exudes from every
structure, whether grand or humble. I am sure that a better understanding of
Sicilian history would bring Erice much more alive, but the knowledge that
humans have been living here since Neolithic times, that structures exist here
which date back to 800BC, the streets paved with marble and limestone, the
walled paths, the medieval doors and statues, the sixty churches in what is a
small village, the abandoned monasteries and convents (following the closure of
religious corporations and expropriation of their assets in the 1860s following
unification of the Italian state), the pasticci on sale in every bar and caffe
based on the sweets made by nuns for hundreds of years, all add to creating a
sense that we live in a world which is shaped by the past and which will inevitably
shape the future.
Of course, the fact that Erice is located on top of a mountain, often
with fog and clouds swirling past (as they are now as I write this), adds to
the sense of drama and paradoxical exceptionalism, a village which is a window
into the world, both past and (in terms of the inevitability of change) future,
but which also gives the impression it is not of the present while
simultaneously hosting a constant stream of tourists which proves that is very
much is of the here and now.
After a small lunch of arancini and octopus salad, we rested, and will
now head out for a short walk before dinner. The future awaits!
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