Taiwan: Beginnings

“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things - air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky - all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.” -Cesare Pavese

Dear loyal followers, I apologize for the delay in postings, it has been quite a busy few days and I am always so tired at night that I haven’t had the opportunity to write entries.

So without further ado, from Taipei, AHHHHHH!

Okay so that was just the initial impression, but as far as culture shocks go, if you have never been to Asia, and you are traveling with two other people, one who is Taiwanese and the other who is Taiwanese-American, you don’t gain the full comfort of company. Not to mention that I am staying at a hostel by myself in Taipei, so I am literally alone, but I’m getting ahead of myself. From the beginning I suppose.

It started with a thirteen hour, or so, flight to Tokyo. Aside from a few terrible movies and bad courses of airplane food, the flight was uneventful. I had a three-hour layover in Narita airport in Tokyo, which was made far more eventful by the flashing TV screens covering Michael Jackson’s death. Everyone was shocked and chattering and trying to figure out what had happened.

After traveling for nearly twenty-four hours, I finally made it to Taipei. We took a taxi from the airport and eventually found my place. Fortunately someone (Joyce) else who was staying there was just coming back and let me in. She was actually my roommate for a night, rather unexpectedly, but it worked out well. She was from Tainan, here in Taipei for a conference for work. She helped me with my Chinese a bit and I helped her with her English, it was a good compromise. The next morning Joyce and I went out for breakfast. She was really eager to try this place that served American style breakfasts, so I ate a very good vegetarian omelet for my first real meal in Taipei. Not much of a culture shock there, but that came quickly. The woman who runs/lives in the hostel is very nice, but does not speak a word of English. Her name is Ling Mama, or at least that is what I’m supposed to call her. She is interesting from what I can tell of her. She apparently converted to Christianity after a leg injury of hers healed. She likes me because she thinks I look like Jesus, or so she said.

That first day I went out with Mrs. Kao and Celeste to an outdoor jade market and flower market. They were really cool. There was a ton of merchandise in large tents covering at least a block. I was clearly the only American in there, and I got some stares accordingly, but I’m getting used to those. As we were walking past a department store a little girl maybe ten years old looked out with the most shocked look on her face when she saw me. The stares follow me everywhere I go. We managed to miss a typhoon that was heading towards Hong Kong, but caught an outer thunderstorm, so we went and waited a few hours at Celeste’s grandmother’s before heading out to a couple of night markets.

The night markets are filled with random merchandise and lots and lots of food. There are sweet smells, bitter smells, and in a few cases, the most pungent smelling tofu that I have ever smelled in my life. We were out for a couple of hours and then made our way back to our separate abodes for the night. I meant to go to sleep as soon as I got back, but the girl who had been staying in the room next to me, Kellie, from Seoul, was up and we talked for a while. I was a little uncomfortable to be honest. My Chinese is not very good, and even though some people tell me that it is decent, I don’t believe them. I can’t understand half of what anybody says and I can’t really hold a good conversation. But I’m learning, and managing as best I can.

The next day I wrote some emails to get in contact with some professors to meet this week to discuss my thesis. I’m really lucky actually. I’ll be meeting with two professors at National Taiwan University and the man in charge of foreign aid at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. In the afternoon I met Mrs. Kao’s friend who drove us to her home in Keelung where she introduced me to her husband and her son Albert. If I got everything right, and I’m pretty sure I did, Albert is 24, just finished medical school at the top of his class, and is about to enter into his one-year conscription as a medical doctor. The family was very nice and after I had expressed interest in a shrine in their house, they took me to a temple nearby to show me around and explain things to me. It was very interesting, a large, and complex. After that, they showed us to a second home that they have nearby, and generously offered, should I ever come back, to let me stay there. But even more generous still, they treated us to dinner at a very nice seafood restaurant. I had never seen food quite like this before, but I’m always up for trying new things. I had lobster and crab and sea bass and duck, rice and sashimi, I just kept eating since they kept offering me food. They were very nice.

It was cool; at the same restaurant there was a wedding party. My hosts wanted me to go spy on them and see what a Taiwanese wedding was like. Supposedly the bride changes into three dresses during the, well I don’t know if it was ceremony or meal, but I saw her in two of them at least. Everyone was happy. After that, we were driven back, and I crashed for the night.

The next day I tried to meet with Celeste since Mrs. Kao was busy seeing people. We failed pretty miserably since we had no cell phones to get in touch with each other so I ended up going and getting lost on my own. I went to the Longshan (Dragon) temple and explored a bit. It was impressive. There were waterfalls in the outer courtyard and then a series of shrines in the interior. It was a beautiful place, but weird that it was surrounded by a very cosmopolitan area. It was like finding a large temple in the middle of the loop. After that, I was anxious to get away from all of the busyness, so I went on the train further west, off my map actually, until I got to woods, and parks. I was going to go to a nature preserve, but the weather looked a little questionable, so I figured I would head back. I was pretty tired anyway.

I had never navigated from the train station back to my hostel, and I entered the MRT in a different location from where I exited so I got fantastically lost on my way back. It took a couple of tries asking for directions, but eventually I made my way back. There is a whole underground infrastructure that is pretty impressive. Not just the subway, but there are underground pathways to get under busy streets, and malls under ground between subway stops. It’s pretty easy to get lost, but there is just enough English on the signs that I can make my way around.

This is all one crazy adventure. We’ll see where it takes me. I have 5 more days in Taipei and then I’m heading out to Taitung to teach English, so we’ll see how everything goes. I’ll do my best to fill in updates, but my internet is a bit patchy and I don’t know what my status will be in Taitung. But rest assured, when I do have time to write, I will have some crazy stories to share.

Zaijian!
Ben

Finire?

“The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one’s own country as a foreign land.” - G.K. Chesterton

The “end” of this experience has felt both very long and very short at the same time. We spent two days putting our presentations together. Shun decided to make them group presentations, placing me with Melodie and Anisha to try and describe our experience, our time with the very loose outline of pre-conceptions and re-connections, but I thought that transformations was a more appropriate word for my experience, and neither Melodie nor Anisha really cared for re-connections. It was two fairly grueling days of working out ideas and putting together power points, messing around with Photoshop (for Melodie) and getting about 2 hours of sleep. Then we woke up on Friday to give our presentations, rehearsing a little in the morning and then finally presenting once our guests (Ferdinando, professors from Torino) showed up. It was an interesting presentation, my first real review from architects, and second from my peers. My portion was very different from everyone else’s, my presentation was more dependent on my speaking, my projection, than my PowerPoint. The others, knowing far more about PowerPoint and Photoshop than me produced incredible effects and displays to convey their ideas. I gave a rather passionate presentation, then Anisha gave her part in her very clear and concise speaking pattern, and Melodie finished with her incredibly oratorical presentation style. It sparked a lot of discussion, all good, and Melodie at least was very happy with how it went, saying that it was a good review. I was happy certainly, and a little relieved.

We were all prepared to crash after that, but there really wasn’t any time. The Businaro’s had set up a rather nice surprise for us. We were attending a charity event as Ferdinando’s guests, an event at his girlfriend’s father’s villa. I got to ride with Frederico (Ferdinando’s older brother) in the front of his very nice jaguar (I was a little disappointed that we couldn’t take the Maserati…so was he) and we talked about his travels, his work, and surprisingly his love life. He was very open about that. I think he really is a romantic at heart, and him and his brother are very clearly generous and giving people. Eventually we made it to the event all to be shocked for the entire evening. It was a massive Palladian villa, far larger than the one that we have been working in, and we were surrounded by rather fancy suits and glamorous dresses (and some not so glamorous dresses). I was constantly surprised by this experience, and much of that was thanks to the Businaro’s generosity. In attendance were an Italian count and the Archduke of Austria, both of whom gave a short speech far outdone by the master of the villa, who gave an apparently hilarious speech in rapid Italian.

I’m not really sure how to describe the event. It was rather overwhelming. There was a full orchestra in the middle of the courtyard playing Waltzes by Strauss in honor of the archduke. There were tables of appetizers filled with delicious breads, cheeses, fruits, and seafood. There was a long (three hour) dinner where we sat and talked, and ate, and enjoyed ourselves. We were in the main room on the second floor and were entered into a raffle by Ferdinando to win prizes from the Rotary Club that was helping sponsor the event (which was to raise money for cystic fibrosis by the way). Two people in our group actually won jewelry, it was really cool. There were fireworks shot off of the balcony just across from where we ate, there was a night filled with dancing on a dance floor that had been set up where the orchestra had been earlier in the evening. We all danced together and even Shun joined in which was absolutely hilarious and incredible. That is a sight that I will never forget. We stayed until about 2:45; we were some of the last guests there with the Businaros. We were then driven home only to wake up the next morning and wonder if it had all been real, if it had really happened. This whole experience has been incredible, and the Businaros welcomed us all back to Il Palazzetto any time, sincerely. And I do believe we all want to take them up on that offer some day. I know I will be back, eventually.

I’m off now to take my last trip to Venice before I go to stay in the airport tonight to catch my 6:30 am flight. It will be a shame to say goodbye to the city and to Italy in general, but it will be very nice to be home, if only briefly before I continue my adventure.

Brion

"The best way is to walk lost" -Giamba

In the past week we have gone out to the countryside near Treviso in a town called Altivole. It was quite an experience out there, very different from Venice, but eye opening and enjoyable. After taking the train out to Montebelluna, we waited for Shun and Robert to go pick up the rental cars, and also waited for Giulia, our “TA” (who is not really a TA but a PHD in Architecture who is providing another point of view on Brion and our experience).

Shun and Robert arrived with the cars and we met Lucio, who owned the Agriturismo where the girls stayed and then Giulia arrived. We drove out to Lucio’s and met his family and saw the house where we were told the girls were going to be treated to incredible breakfasts every morning, made by Lucio. The guys were going to stay at Francesca’s Agraturismo. It was nice, on a cherry orchard and vineyard, but the breakfasts could not compare to Lucio’s.

We spent the majority of our time at Brion cemetery. The cemetery was commissioned by the Brion family and added on to a public cemetery. We staggered our entrances so as not to ruin people’s first impression. Some people entered through the public cemetery, but I entered through Brion’s entrance. It was a very surprising place. Everywhere there were complex, Escher-esque, concrete structures built in different heights and layers. Scarpa used a stair motif going up and down, in and out in every direction so that everything seemed to lead somewhere. At the same time however, there was green space everywhere, grass and trees and bushes. There was life everywhere. Trickling water and ponds filled with Koi, lizards crawling all around, and birds fluttering about. It was a very weird contrast for a cemetery- so much time, so much life. The walls along the Brion slope inwards so that you cannot see the corn and farmland outside. All you can see is a dream world, a special, isolated island of paradise.

There is a corridor, similar to a soto portego that leads both to the public cemetery and also through a gate to a little peninsula set on the pond at the back of the private cemetery. Beppi, the caretaker let us through the gate and into the chapel in the cemetery so that we had full access. It was very fortunate.

We spent four days in Brion, first getting used to the space, then exploring it individually to try and understand it, then observing it in groups, and finally one last day for closure. I was too overwhelmed by the space to get anything concrete. There was just a flood of impressions and thoughts but it wasn’t until the second day that I was able to describe anything. The second day I explored and sat and thought, realizing how bizarre it was to have such a dream like place next to a cemetery. How odd it was, that a place that felt so natural and so comfortable could be a place for the dead, so starkly different from the cemetery adjacent to it. We partnered up (I was with Reem this time) and discussed that place only to break up into two groups of five to discuss with in front of the whole group later that day. We sat in the chapel and talked for about an hour and a half before leaving that night for Asolo for dinner.

Asolo is a beautiful little town up in the mountains. Apparently it used to be a place where artists would go to for inspiration and it was easy to see why. Looking out down the mountain, at the lights, and the trees, out at the moon and the stars, it was a very expressive scene. It seemed so perfect, so fixed, but it was all the more special because it was natural, real. I ate dinner with Melodie, Shun, Giulia, and Anisha that night at a fantastic restaurant. The food was good, the conversation was good, and we were happy to be away, briefly, from the full groups setting. A ten-person group is small enough for the work we are doing and the discussions we have, but ten people at every meal can be a bit overwhelming.

The next day at Brion we got back into our pairs and explored and studied and thought again, to have discussions with Shun and Gulia about what we observed, what we thought. Of course there was more sketching on everyone’s part too, and more photographs, but the battery on my camera died, and while I tried to sketch, it is certainly not my forte, so I took lots of notes, and comments about the place. I realized on the third day that the natural calm was not so natural. Someone designed the entire place, in great detail and passion. While it may have felt natural, it was entirely constructed. What was real was the corn outside. So to me, this contrived place was built to direct thought in a particular environment, not necessarily a natural one. This sparked an interesting conversation with Shun and with some others. Ira and I also managed that day to climb up on top of the chapel and walk along a little pathway built up there. Scarpa designs parts of his work even where it may never be seen- plants on the roof and a sliding sky light that can only be accessed from 20 feet in the air with no clear way up.

On the fourth day, we went back in the mid afternoon one last time only to get caught in an incredible storm. The wind was blowing at around 50 miles per hour, the rain was falling in sheets and water flew in every direction, through all of the openings in the concrete, dancing off the steps and the grass. It was absolutely beautiful, and wild, and torrential. Then came the hale. It was small initially, about the size of a pea but soon it began to fall the size of a half dollar or so all over Brion. We were in the shelter of the chapel, but I couldn’t help but run out into the rain (before the hale began) and see Brion in such a wild state. It was very different from the calm, tranquil, dream world before.

After Brion, we left Altivole to head back to Venice for two nights to relax, and rediscover Scarpa in the city. The Biennale had begun; tourist season had begun, so the city was very different. But we did not feel as rushed as our first week to the city. Maybe we were used to it, maybe because we had no check in deadlines, but time seemed to go by much more slowly. I revisited Campo Ghetto and my other favorite parts of the city and finally got some touristy shopping of my own done. It was weird to feel like everyone else for once. The way that we have been traveling and exploring has made me feel a little elitist compared to the other tourists who come for a day to see San Marco and Rialto and leave. It felt different to be acting like everyone else in those parts of the city. But that was fleeting. At night I saw the tides come up and embrace the city, flooding San Marco, the edges of the Rialto, and the edges of every fondamenta and rio terra in the city. It was an incredible site.
The next day we went about our way again without any assignment aside from keeping Scarpa in mind. I traveled with Anisha for the most part, running errands and continually exploring and then we met up with Melodie, Ira, Mahati, and Juliet to go on a Gondola ride. We owed Melodie for her connection with Giamba, the gondolier who took us around. He took us on the longer route for the price of the shorter, and he was remarkable. He told us the history of Venice as he rowed us down the rios and the Grand Canal. He had an incredible voice, and an incredible way of telling stories. He was a true orator. While we heard music from other gondoliers, I couldn’t help but feel that we had gotten a special experience from Giamba rather than just an expensive, romantic outing that other people experienced. I suppose I forgot to mention one last odd part of our two-night stay in Venice.

We stayed in a convent. I had certainly never done that before, but it was very nice, if not very secure and secluded. The doors locked precisely at midnight and opened precisely at 6:00am so the few people who didn’t make it back on time stayed outside and slept elsewhere. The rooms were fine, but the best part was the courtyard and the balcony. There was an internal courtyard with tables and chairs to relax but on the second level there was a pure concrete patio with a couple of benches where you could lay out at night and watch the stars and the moon. It was a full moon just a couple of days ago so the moon was still particularly bright and lit up the city beautifully.

And now I am back in Monselice, preparing to start my final project (which will be explained tomorrow) and we will work in the Villa all week until we present on Friday. So there may not be anything interesting left until then, but then again there may be. This place constantly surprises me, and something exciting can happen at a moments notice. For now though, I will go to sleep again dreaming about the questions floating in my head from Brion, and Venice, Il Palazetto and IUAV, and see if I can incorporate any of them into my project.

Buona Notte.

Il Palazzetto

The longest journey is the journey inward. - Dag Hammarskjold

Il Palazetto has been an incredible place. It is a 17th century Italian farmhouse that was renovated by Carlos Scarpa and his son Tobia. Aldo and Lucia Businaro moved there and had three children, two of whom I have met-Ferdinando and Frederico. Aldo died in 2006 so unfortunately we did not get to meet him. Aldo was friends with Carlos Scarpa and was his mecenate, his patron, who would hire Scarpa to design and build projects as an excuse to give him some money. Scarpa, though he built quite a bit and was quite influential, was always poor because he never collected money. We learned that it was Aldo who traveled with Scarpa to Japan when he died, and so the whole family has this whole history with the architect and grew up with him.

As we walked through the gate I was struck by how modern the front of the house was. I noticed the black garage and the nice old cars. We briefly met Lucia, the mother, who welcomed us to her home. She reminded me of Aunt Pearl. She was this elegant older woman with very good English.

Shun gave us our assignment to go alone again and look for things that stood out to us: things that were familiar, things that made us feel uncomfortable. We were also supposed to pay special attention to the passage of time. The first concrete structure, the gateway, initially made me feel uncomfortable. It was too contrasting so I went around the other side of house to get to the backyard.

The backyard was incredible. There were trees everywhere and the edges were lined with bamboo. I was initially more comfortable back there. There was a structure built by Scarpa in the back that I passed over at first, it felt too foreign, too modern. But eventually I made my way to it. It was a barbecue built of concrete but it had no roof or ceiling of any sort. I looked up, saw the trees, and knew that the place was not so unnatural. It actually complemented the backyard. I sat on the ledge where food would eventually be served and felt as if years could go by and I wouldn’t notice.

We then met Ferdinando and Frederico who offered us lunch. We talked with them and they told us a bit about the house and Scarpa and their father. They were very friendly and very hospitable. We also heard the story about how exactly Scarpa died. It wasn’t pleasant, so I won’t retell it here. After gelato we went back to work and I went around the front to try and understand Scarpa and how he thought and worked and how it made me feel. Once I walked through the concrete gateway from the back I was fine with it, no more discomfort.

I loved the stairs, the gradual incline that didn’t feel high at all. I walked up and down those stairs, studying the levels, looking down and realizing how inclusive the levels felt despite their height and I was impressed. More importantly thought that day I got to know people better. I learned more about Lucia who showed me the inside of her home. All of the walls are covered with giant Frescos of roman scenes. It was incredible. At the end of the day, we all took a group picture, or five, and then went to go work on presentations that we would be giving the next day.

We worked at the Villa in the morning the next day from 9:30-2:30 and then left for Il Palazzetto. Before giving the presentations, or even re-studying the home, we went swimming in the pool in the backyard. It was a lot of fun. We sat by the pool in the sun chatting and eating cherries, and then when we were all satisfied, gave our presentations in one of the separate buildings on the property. It was amazing- another 17th century house with a completely modern interior including a projector. The presentations were all interesting, all personal, and I think the family really enjoyed them. I know they did. They were very sincere and very grateful, and as always, very hospitable. After the presentations, we went to the barbecue for dinner, and then the night truly got incredible.

All of the food was homemade and cooked in the oven using wood, which gave the meat a far better taste than charcoal or gas. We ate under the trees and the stars, about 15 of us, enjoying stories and absolutely incredible food for about 5 hours. The lasagna was the best dish by far. I have never had pasta like this before that was so soft that it almost melted in my mouth. And for dessert, we had tiramisu and strawberry gelato. It was unbelievable. I haven’t been so happy in a while. I was sitting by Lucia and we talked for much of the night. She told me more about her husband and her life and her home. She was an incredible woman and I really got to know her well, so at the end of the night, when she was retiring, it was Shun and I that walked her back to the house and wished her good night. After that, we went back to the table, and sat and talked a bit longer, getting some incredible stories out of Shun until about 12:30.

All in all, it was an unforgettable experience. And soon I will have to share my latest experience. Brion Cemetery, which is in intensely complex but incredible place.

Monselice Continued

Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind. - Seneca

The past couple of days we have been doing work in mental mapping. Thursday started out well. We arrived in Venice and committed our first crime. We all carefully stowed aboard a Vaporreto (one of the boats that take people around the city along the grand canal) and made it all the way to Salute without paying. Salute is incredible. The church is a massive, incredible piece of architecture that was built as an offering during the plague in Venice. So we began there and were told to walk around Sestier Dorsoduro, paying particular attention to light and space along the different ways, and making a mental map, pointing out the landmarks and objects that stood out to us. It was very interesting looking at the things that stood out. Usually it was for a personal reason, something that was attractive to us individually. Other times though it was simply the largest or most incredible building on the calle or in the campo. My sketching could still use a lot of work but I’m trying, and people are more than willing to help me improve, so I think I’ll take a couple of lessons.

I spent a lot of time that day following the fondamenta zattere, the strip that follows all of the way along the southern edge of Dorsoduro next to the lagoon. It is a beautiful strip. We met up in the afternoon, relaxed a little in Campo Santa Margherita, and then were free to do whatever we wanted. I went with Anisha, Ira, and Mahati to visit Campo Ghetto and the Jewish section of the town. It was a little difficult for us to find at first, but eventually we made it. It was a much quieter part of the city, more personal, but perhaps I was biased. I knew I was in the right place when I ran into the Chabad. There was a man, not too much older than me sitting outside and after we realized that the synagogues were closed, I went to speak with him. He was a Hassidic Jew from New York who had come to Europe for a friend's wedding and was sitting outside the Chabad inviting people to Shavuot services that night. He of course invited me, but unfortunately the services were after the last train out of the city and I couldn’t go. But when he asked me if I wanted to put on tefillin, I couldn’t refuse. There was just something about being in the place that made me want to don a tallis and the tefillin, and it was a very powerful experience. It made me feel comfortable, connected, in this city that was filled with tourists looking for a cheap carnivle mask to take home with them. I think perhaps the Venetians feel the same way about their traditions. Though the tourists may take the Gondola rides, and buy masks, to the Venetians, these things are art forms, badges of pride that define them and bring them comfort. So while much of Venice is being lost in tourism, there are pockets of tradition, which is a comforting thought.
So my friends watched as I did this, curious as to what it all was, and what the Hebrew I was speaking meant. It made for a good conversation on the way back to the train.

The next day I decided to try a little experiment. My goal was to test silence. How much more did I notice, did I pay attention when I didn’t talk. People knew what I was doing, and I had a little communication through other means, but apart from that, I didn’t speak. It was an interesting experience. It calmed me and helped me focus and I was able to notice things that I had not on previous days, even when traveling alone. We had a personal tour from a woman Shun knows named Valeria who took us from Campo San Toma to the Rialto. We went along a lot of back ways and she told us stories about the meaning of the streets, and the histories of many of the houses. It was fascinating. After that we broke into pairs so I decided to start speaking again so as not to leave my partner alone. Anisha and I explored that path from the Rialto back to San Toma again and learned the ins and outs of that section of the city. Much of the mapping we were supposed to do was visual, but Shun told everyone, though directed at me I believe, that we could do verbal mapping, or other kinds. My goal was to map the flow of people and languages. My work is incomplete, but I have at least made some interesting observations. It is not to surprising that along shopping strips you will hear American English, Italian, German, British English, French, etc, but it is also more prevalent in main campos and in calles that lead to important places. However the many other calles that lead to random places, little Cortes, or shortcuts, usually have Italian if not exclusively Venetian. As for the flow of people, the narrower the walkway, the darker it tends to be, since the buildings are very tall and connected, so people tend to walk very quickly down these calles. I think people feel trapped or oppressed by the lack of space and light and seek to escape into a brighter area, whether it be a porte or a campo. In that way it almost seems like the long, dark, narrow calles direct people to brighter places. The most incredible part of the day though was our visit to a mask shop by Campo San Toma. I was curious to know why these people made the masks. Was it for the tourists, was it to make money, was it a passion? This shop attracted my attention because I could see the owners making the masks inside by hand. One of the women there explained to me that if people were looking for a carnivale mask to take home, they were in the wrong shop. Traditional Venetian mask makers spend several months to a year researching new designs for masks before building them. These masks are for the love of Venetian tradition and are sold to native Venetians for carnivale and for decoration in their homes. It was very interesting to hear her passion. She then explained the marionettes hanging in the shop. In the past, the marionettes provided an opportunity for people to anonymously criticize the Doge and the noblemen in caricature. Apparently this is still done today, though not nearly as often.

Today we spent the entire day in Monselice at the Villa. I love this place; it is absolutely inspiring. A sixteenth century villa facilitates a lot of creativity. We went shopping at the supermarket in the morning to collect fresh food for lunch and dinner. At the villa we went over the past couple of days and retraced and rethought our maps. It is very difficult to describe the impact that this program is having on people, but it is there, sometimes subtle, sometimes obvious.

We made lunch in the Villa together, a fun experience with delicious results. The ingredients here are so fresh. The fruit is better, the cheese is better, the bread is better, and all of it is relatively cheap, especially for its quality. We did the same for dinner and it was fantastic. We spent a lot of time exploring the Villa and taking pictures for a profile that we are all developing, which provided great entertainment. Everyone shared pictures, and cameras, and stories. Mahati played her fiddle first in the courtyard, then inside the Villa, and later in the evening along a rooftop pathway, which is one of my favorite spots. The villagers though provided the most exciting moment of the night. Many of the people grouped together with torches and candles, singing Ave Maria and walking up to a shrine in a public part of the villa. It was amazing to watch, especially from the rooftop. And now as we finish up our profiles and listen to Shun’s Italian music, I am excited by our day tomorrow, our free day. I don’t know what I should do yet. I am tempted to go back to the city and sketch more and explore, and “catch up” on a lot of work that I wasn’t sure I might want earlier on. But others will go to the beach or explore the city so I will see. I also got an invitation from Massi, the guy who has been helping us a lot in Monselice and works as a librarian in the castle, to show me around the town and some of the better nature spots, so perhaps I will take him up on that. For now though, I will end my work and walk back down the hill soon.

Buona Notte

Monselice

A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving. -Lao Tzu

We have just finished our second day of the program and I am starting to get an idea as to how this will work. It is very complex, a matter of finding questions and searching for answers in a very deep almost philosophical sense that will inevitably result in more questions. It is challenging, not being an architecture major, but not impossible and I am learning to observe things and look at things in ways that I have never thought of before.

We are staying in Monselice, a town several miles from Venice and taking the train in every day. The town is an old 16th century fortress town, though there are some castle remains here from the sixth century. It is a very interesting place. We are staying in an old villa converted into a hostel and Shun managed to arrange for us to use Villa Duodo, an old sixteenth century villa as our work space. I’ve been up to the Villa a few times now and it is incredible, but I haven’t had a chance to go in the day more than once, so I’ll have to find another time to get some pictures.

During the days we have been going into the city. We eat breakfast at around 8:00 and leave for the train at around 8:30- simple, and fortunately for some, flexible. On our first day our assignment was to go around the city observing different signs to better understand a calle, a campo, etc. On top of this we were told to go alone so as to individually observe the city and not risk having our opinions influenced by others and we were told to get lost and find our way. Some did, some didn’t, but we all made it back to the train station when we were going to leave and I had no difficulty getting around. I did get fantastically lost though. Venice is very nice and very safe. There are lots of little alleys, lots of dead ends, and lots of surprises, but it is all very welcoming and as long as one is aware of their surroundings (the point of the assignment) it is harmless.

We did end up meeting as a group partially during the first day and we visited several interesting sites: fantastic squares, incredible churches, and very nice gellaterias (for gelato). But the most incredible part of the day was our visit to the oar makers. We met Sevario, the master, and Pietro, the assistant, who both make oars and forcole for a living. The oars are very interesting, and made for gondolas or other types of rowboats and take a few days to make. But the true art is in the forcole. At the end of a gondola there is the forcola, in to which the oar is set and rotated to a particular gondolier’s stroke. They are all custom made to fit the stroke of the gondolier and take around 3 years to make. They are incredible pieces of art.

Today we had the same routine, wandering Venice until around 2, but this time paying keen attention to our senses to understand the different sounds, smells, sights, etc, of Venice and how they change in different spots. For example Soto Portegos are dark, and they echo magnificently, but then open to a very light campo or calle. Campos however are loud and wide and bright and there may be restaurants within or nearby to create sounds and scents.

At 2:00pm we met to begin an assignment studying a work by Carlo Scarpa, the architect of study on this program. It was a courtyard and we were supposed to study it to understand how it worked, how it was special, and how it was Venetian. It wasn’t easy work, and Shun does not provide many answers, but he listens and we eventually garner some understanding, though it is an ever self-improving process. There is no right or wrong, and Shun never tells us any specific interpretation. This is very much an independent, and personal experience, one that will likely lead to personal growth through deep reflection. It is not so much the architecture itself that will lead to this but the thought process associated with it. The push for individuality and understanding, leaving our comfort zones, and independence will likely change all of us. Perhaps not in the next three weeks, but with further reflection and experience, we will change because of this program.

We caught the train back to Monselice in time to grab a quick slice of pizza (delicious and cheap) and then watched the Manchester United v. Barcelona championship. I sat next a guy associated with the Villa Duodo who I am becoming friends with and also next to a guy here from Northern Ireland making his way around Europe. It was a good match and just about everybody was happy that Barcelona won.

Everybody on the trip is friendly and I like to think that I am making friends with them. Whether or not they will be deep lasting friendships remains to be seen, but I certainly hope that they will be. There are some very interesting people here ranging form a 35-year-old student pursuing his masters in architecture to a sophomore in college majoring in material sciences. My major is certainly very different from the others' but it has not been a problem yet and the way the program is tailored, I do not think it will be too much of a hindrance to me.

It is getting late and we are getting our first night of rain. It is not unwelcome though; as it will take away the scorching heat we have had for the past few days. For now though I retire looking forward to another day in the city.

Buona notte.

Absolut Venice

“Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail”-Ralph Waldo Emerson

The two extra days in the city before the program began were certainly a good idea. It was great to get acclimated and to understand how to make it as a foreigner in Venice looking for food, or water, or other such necessities. The trip from the airport to Venezia was a simple bus ride, but the trip from the bus stop to the hostel was more daunting. Melodie and I lugged several bags and suit cases down a couple of miles and over two very large (and step ridden) bridges. It was challenging, but the strangers were kind and helped Melodie with her second bag over both bridges when I did not have an extra hand to do so.

We made it to the hostel, or I should say the main building of the hostel. We walked in, with all of our luggage and up another flight of stairs to meet Franco, the man who ran the place. He was a fairly sleazy businessman who did not care much for travelers' concerns and tried to charm his way through problems. We fortunately did not encounter any of this personally. We did find however that we were being moved to one of the other houses that the hostel has and we were given two choices, one very far away in another section of the city and one much closer. We chose the closer. We lugged our bags back down the stairs and went around a couple of blocks until we got to the new place. As we got in we saw a couple of guys working on the air conditioning but were reassured by Franco that the place was great. Fortunately, it really was pretty good. The guy who ran it was a middle aged, traveled Italian man who fixed any problems that came up. We explored the city a bit, but were exhausted and went to sleep early that night to prepare for our adventures the next morning.

I woke up early, too excited to stay asleep. I was awoken by the church bells nearby and the sounds of the gulls-not a bad way to wake up. I greeted our neighbors next door who were just preparing to leave. They were very interesting. Three americans, two who work in Texas and one who is a graduate student at the University of Pennsylvania studying immunology. Apparently she was working with a strain of 1930s swine flu before the current out break so we had a great discussion. After that we got people ready and headed out.

The city is incredible, filled with hundreds of little alleys and streets, and thousands of different sounds and smells and sights. There are numerous courtyards and squares where children run around laughing and playing and people sit and chat. There are no cars to ruin the ambience, only the boats in the canals and the gondolas that take tourists through the city-the embodiment of Venetian culture. There were a few great stereotypical moments such as the accordian player outside at the restaurant near our hostel, and even though it should seem cliche, it was truly enjoyable. We went shopping at the supermarket, grabbed paninis from little shops, which are increcibly cheap, and the best pastries that I have ever had, only 1.50 euro each.

So far though there have been two especially memorable moments of our adventures. In one of the squares there is a large statue of a lion with wings, the standard of Vencie and we took pictures of it and admired the work that went into it. There were images of it all over the city, but this statue was by far the most regal. The other moment was our trip to Piazza San Marco. It was around 10:00 when we headed out on mostly empty streets to make our way to the square. As we entered I was awestruck by the large open space surrounded by incredible buildings. Outside one of the restaurants in the square a band played and we walked the square to the sounds of strings and romantic music. Again, perhaps a little cliche, but powerful nonetheless. The buildings were lined with lights and the square, while sparsely populated, was still very much alive with a people sitting down sipping their wine to the music, while others danced freely.

And now we have made our way out to Monselice, an incredible town that I have yet to explore, but soon that will be amended and there will be much more to share and reflect upon.