The boy is finally taking his frog elsewhereBy
Prepare to be stunned. The big news in today’s Gazzettino comes as a thunderstrike from the blue, at least to me who doubted that I or my non-existent great-grandchildren would ever see the departure of the “Boy with a Frog” from the Punta della Dogana.
One might recall that we signed a petition on November 21, 2011 to remove the statue and replace it with the long-beloved and historically valid lamppost. There was also a Facebook group organized with the same purpose, and while the time has been long and toilsome, perhaps they both had some effect on this happy outcome.
Tourists flocked to take photos of his appendages, but many Venetians looked at him and saw only what wasn’t there anymore, and what they wanted to have back. Including Lino, and also me.
There were so many protests of various sorts, including occasional calls to arms to destroy it, that the museum owner, Francois Pinault, paid for a transparent protective box to cover it every night, and an armed guard around the clock. A guard who, a recent article recounted, was required to work a 12-hour shift without anywhere to sit, keep warm, eat, or go to the bathroom. You don’t get to be a billionaire by feeling sorry for people.
But perhaps the “vehement letter” from Franco Miracco, ex-councilor of the Ministry for Cultural Treasures (“beni“) was what was finally needed. He wrote, the story reports, asking the city and the local Superintendency for Artistic and Architectural Treasures “whatever happened to the authorization to leave (the statue) there.” As in: The jig is up.
So the news is that on March 18 the work will begin to remove the lad and replace the lamp.
The city is congratulating itself publicly for its concern to replace the old lamp with a perfect replica, made from the mold (1860’s vintage) at the foundry in Mantova which had made the original lamp. I too congratulate them. I also wonder whatever happened to the lamp that was there until 2009, but there must be a sort of “don’t ask, don’t tell” injunction on that question. Works of art and history get lost in warehouses all the time. Cut up, sold, melted down, and so on.
In case you might wonder how this feat is being accomplished by a municipality which has made a cult of having no money, it’s being paid for by a group of companies which supply public lighting.
So is this the last we’ll ever see of the eight-foot stripling? Maybe not. The city has only said that “Its future at the moment is uncertain. The sculpture could find a new space in Venice, but might also leave the city.”
I’m seriously considering planning a going-away party for the little guy. It would be like a baby shower — we could all give him clothes. Underpants. Shearling coats. Collegiate hoodies. Compression running tights. Mukluks.
If I ever hear of a reason why this decision was made, I’ll pass it along. Of course, you don’t get to be a billionaire by explaining why you do things.
For now, I’m filing it under “The Fullness of Time.”