Even if the last word is missing, it takes no effort at all to fill it in: “The sun is nothing compared to your eyes.” I hope whoever has those eyes wasn’t the one who removed the word.
One of the best things about walking around Venice is that you are always discovering things, the littler, the better.
Here is a smattering of recent surprises, in no particular order. The important thing is that they made me smile.
Speaking of eyes, this is not a fragment from the ancient Syrians or Greeks.This haunting tribute is placed on a wall at the hospital, near the Emergency Room. It was created by Orsoni, maker of mosaic tesserae in Venice since 1888, and donated in honor of the medical personnel at the city hospital for their heroic work during the pandemic. “Duri i banchi” is a very old expression still used as encouragement, if not warning, dating from the epoch of rowed galleys when it was shouted to the crew to brace themselves before the moment of impact in battle. (Think “Ramming speed!” from Ben-Hur). The banchi (BAN-kee) were the benches upon which the rowers sat, but saying “Hard the benches!” doesn’t mean that the benches were hard, though of course they were, but refers to the rowers themselves. So: Hang tough, stand your ground, stay strong. (Note: It’s about 35 cm x 45 cm/13 in x 18 in. I didn’t think to make a photograph of its general position — I’ll do that next time I’m by the hospital.)A tree has been growing on the vegetable boat, and its nespoli (loquats) were bravely maturing not long ago.I didn’t keep track of them, so I can’t tell you whether the birds ate them or if Massimo or Luca took them home from the boat and made compote.It’s possible that this window belongs to a vast apartment, but seen from the end of a long dark calle this small opening brings Rapunzel to mind. Or the Count of Monte Cristo, if he had liked to grow basil. I understand why the bars are there, but they do add a strangely dramatic tone to a very ordinary scene.And on the subject of windows, I noticed this the other day. It’s amazing what you can find when you’re not looking for anything. You don’t see any particular “this” in the scene? Look closer.Wait — is that a mirror I see through the open window? Wow….The city’s like some visual echo chamber.“I’ll be right back,” it says on the open door.I understand the need for ashtrays. I do not understand how this one along the canal works.This scooter has obviously been sent to the corner of the church for a big time-out. Don’t ask, it knows perfectly well what it did.This young girl has just single-handedly restored my faith in the future of the future. I saw the title on the book’s cover: “Piccole Donne.” Little Women.I had to compliment this lady for her exceptional attention to her whole ensemble. She could have just thrown on the dress and still looked good, but the necklace! The mask! The cell phone cover! For those whose maximum concern is making sure their socks match, all I can say is “Watch and learn.”No comment needed, they speak for themselves, and for her.
Thank you, Erla, for your minute observations, for making me smile… and cry. After two pandemic cancellations and a redundancy, we are finally coming back in September. Let’s hope nothing stops us this time.
Julie
So charming. These intimate closeups seem to convey more of the character of a city than the mug shots of grand monuments. The more I travel, the more I photograph such details and relish the photos when I get home. Thanks for taking us into these quiet corners hidden in plain sight.
Another wonderful glimpse of the extraordinary ordinary. Thanks, Erla. To spot the mirror and the effects thereof takes a bit of practice I guess.
The tribute to the hospital staff was also a masterpiece in a very Venetian way. Duri i banchi seems like a good war-cry for a thing like a pandemic. Hopefully it’s ebbing out now.
Was the tree really growing on the boat? That’s kind of peculiar, isn’t it?
The tree is in a tub. I’ve got photos scattered around my files, but just imagine the regular sort of plant containers you see on windowsills or doorsteps.
I’m starting to think that after so many wonderful years of visiting Venice, I may not be able to get back there. Quite a depressing thought, but our recent health hasn’t done a lot to encourage me to be hopeful.
Thanks for keeping me in touch – we obviously have both have cameras trained to look for the sort of details that are so special.
8 Comments
Great essay! The photos washed in front of me (not literally) and told so much. Excellent work!
You always seem to spot the precise details that create an intriguing image! Love the highly co-ordinated lady! She’s certainly not given up trying.
Thank you, Erla, for your minute observations, for making me smile… and cry. After two pandemic cancellations and a redundancy, we are finally coming back in September. Let’s hope nothing stops us this time.
Julie
So charming. These intimate closeups seem to convey more of the character of a city than the mug shots of grand monuments. The more I travel, the more I photograph such details and relish the photos when I get home. Thanks for taking us into these quiet corners hidden in plain sight.
Another wonderful glimpse of the extraordinary ordinary. Thanks, Erla. To spot the mirror and the effects thereof takes a bit of practice I guess.
The tribute to the hospital staff was also a masterpiece in a very Venetian way. Duri i banchi seems like a good war-cry for a thing like a pandemic. Hopefully it’s ebbing out now.
Was the tree really growing on the boat? That’s kind of peculiar, isn’t it?
The tree is in a tub. I’ve got photos scattered around my files, but just imagine the regular sort of plant containers you see on windowsills or doorsteps.
I’m starting to think that after so many wonderful years of visiting Venice, I may not be able to get back there. Quite a depressing thought, but our recent health hasn’t done a lot to encourage me to be hopeful.
Thanks for keeping me in touch – we obviously have both have cameras trained to look for the sort of details that are so special.
It’s wonderful what you’re doing with your photography, and your observing, which is what photography is all about.