#732 theoldmortuary ponders

Finding ourselves in the corner of an Art gallery.

After Coffee and Architecture the hunt for Art Galleries and tiny gardens was our motivation and route maker in Venice. The Peggy Guggenhein Collection was a fabulous destination because,not only did it have all  three targeted pleasure points, but the building itself it was also the subject of a book I had chosen as my holiday read.

A faacinating book because so many of the artists who were previously unknown to us, and many who are well known put in frequent appearances in the book. Palazzo Venier was the home to three unusual art and artist-loving women. Luisa Casati, Doris Castlerosse and Peggy Guggenheim.

The corners of this Palazzo hold so many secrets. I am not sure about defining interesting women by the amount or variety of sexual partners they have. But while living in this very peaceful and calm building these women lived quite the life. And goodness me this book tells the reader that this house has seen some action. Not just artistic types either. Churchill visited for R and R and happy endings when, given that he was a World Leader his mind should quite properly have been elsewhere.

The last owner before this home became a gallery is buried in the beautiful garden courtyard with her beloved dogs. Which answers, for her, the question below.

What are your favorite animals?

After an international life of great wealth and the friendship of some of the world’s most famous artists. Peggy Guggenheim chose to be buried beneath Venetian skies with her pet dogs.

It is easy to imagine how that decision was made. There is an astonishing sense of peace and calm under the blue skies of a November day in her last resting place.

My favourite painting from this particular collection of hers is also superbly peaceful. Which proves, I suppose that peace can be found anywhere if you look hard enough.

Empire of Light by Rēne Margritte

#730 theoldmortuary ponders.

We have certainly done some steps in Italy and there are many blogs to follow when the ponder is upon me.

Pigment store in Venice

When we were in Rome we pondered ancient civilisations and contemporary art. A quest that was largely successful with some fabulous surprises thrown in. Our last Art gallery before a train trip to Venice had a prophetic slogan on a T-Shirt.

As luck would have it we were off to the Biennale, but not the Fine Art one with National Pavilions. The Architecture Biennale offered cool spaces in beautiful buildings many of them being restored. No t-shirts with instructions were available which rather allowed us to do as we wished

Which of course was to flâneur a lot.

#729 theoldmortuary ponders.

It is not every day that The Guardian writes a holiday review for Hugo and Lola

https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2023/nov/16/country-diary-ferns-and-ivy-sparkle-in-the-wet-undergrowth?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other&fbclid=IwAR0HbbU2gJ1oYdL1cYwM4fGf1dfJNVvgEU7lqWabFSGiybzU3suACFvEvJ0

But as I sit enjoying an early morning coffee on the Grand Canal of Venice . A watery motorway of much beauty. I can read a proper writer’s opinion of a place that was home for many years. And the location of so many Pandemic Ponderings, the forerunner of theoldmortuary ponders. So as I set off for another day of wandering aimlessly please enjoy the landscape that is currently exhausting the dogs.

#728 theoldmortuary ponders

We arrived in Venice by train this evening the sun was just about to set.

We decided to quickly walk to our hotel and then set out for an evening of Flânerie, a Venetian tradition of aimlessly walking about.

We were aimless because the trattoria that was recommended to us was closed, so our first night plan had flittered away.

Being a flâneur is a serious business in Venice, there are bridges to be found and a million things to look at. After 3 or 4 hours of flaneuring our feet were exhausted and our bellies were still empty. Time to retrace our steps to an Osterie that attracted us because of what it didn’t sell.

No Lasagne, no pizza.

It was also opposite a gorgeous green door.

And as it turned out, they sold some pretty amazing seafood.

The Finest of Food for Feeding Footsore Flâneurs.

#727 theoldmortuary ponders.

Do you trust your instincts?

I do trust my instincts to hunt for interesting images, but for accurate travelling I trust the App Citymapper far more. Our last few days in Rome and the daily 20,000 step count has got us to exactly where we have needed to be, thanks to Citymapper. Once we have delivered ourselves to the right location it is time to trust instinct to fine tune the hunt for the unusual. Rome was extraordinarily full of texture, history and Faith.

There is an awful lot of bling involved in Catholicism, not my thing at all. But I found a simple iron cross, some   Sgraffito and some votive candles in a tiny back street. I layered the three together to get a much more humble image of  the textures of Christianity than is normal for Rome.

Texture was definitely the defining experience of walking around Rome. Everything is beautiful and fascinating but the small unplanned details stopped us in our tracks.

Every excursion challenged our feet and minds. Pavements were poorly maintained but older cobbled areas maintained their integrity.

Gorgeous buildings were connected by slightly tatty walls but with so much more interest than a perfectly plastered finish

But history also found its way through perfect plastering.

And old doors told other stories.

New doors too get a bit of a tweak.

Even beige can be interesting in a new city.

#726 theoldmortuary ponders.

You might think that travelling in Rome might bring more culture to the blog. And that is entirely possible in future days but today it is just going to be a ponderous ponder on my own daftness. Like many children I learnt a lot about the Romans when I was under 12. I knew that if I drew a man in a tunic and sandals with a sign saying SPQR then that would be accepted as a fair rendition of a Roman. In recent years the wonderful academic Mary Beard has kept me up to speed on all things Ancient Rome with her books and TV programmes.

I was somewhat flummoxed today to find the very same initials on contemporary refuse bins, public toilets and manhole covers.

Does that surprise anyone else? Or is it just me who finds this a little surprising to find those initials on such mundane items.

#725 theoldmortuary ponders

Domestic Diamonds

Unknown, unwanted and uninvited a small rodent has moved into the space between the stone walls and the plasterboard in our kitchen. In an even more audacious move he has eaten through the cooling pipes of our built in fridge freezer. Without us noticing the fridge was slowly warming up as it struggled to run on no gas and the freezer quietly defrosted while it filled up with gas. Berries and red cabbage make quite a purple mess when they cascade out of the freezer as the door is opened. The fridge part meanwhile created a variety of cultures that rendered most things unsalvageable. Cleaning glass bottles to rid them of nasty bugs required an old-fashioned bottle brush. And that is how domestic diamonds are created…

#724 theoldmortuary ponders.

Coffee Academics Hong Kong

What is your favorite place to go in your city?

In my city or any other I always like to regularly inhabit coffee shops. Particularly independent or very very small chain coffee shops. As I write this I am heading towards Italy, some would argue that I am heading to the worlds leading coffee nation. I am sure that soon enough I will have some good coffee stories to share.

Balzacs Toronto

#723 theoldmortuary ponders

What book are you reading right now?

A little extra ponder for the weekend. I am currently reading Mothers Boy by Patrick Gale.

Normally I might not answer this prompt but this particular book, author and subject are almost the foundation of my love of reading . The Mother’s Boy at the centre of this novel is the poet Charles Causley who wrote a poem called Timothy Winters.

At the heart of the poem is a disadvantaged boy living in post-war Britain. Someone whose opportunities the Welfare State was designed to improve. It was probably the first working class poem I had ever been exposed to.

I have stuck with Causley ever since.  Then I moved near to Launceston where he lived and became familiar with the geography of his home town.  This beautiful portrait of him was done by an artist I know.

http://www.faithchevannes.com

I have read many factual books about Charles Causley but this fictional version, based on facts, of his life is so enjoyable. By an author who never puts a foot wrong, in my opinion. I am having a good weekend in my bookish moments