St Elena evening

Cruise ship passing through the city, comletely out of scale.


Scarpa sculpture commemorating the women of World War II.



Roommates.






Yesterday was the first truly beautiful, warm day we've had here, and after a full day of working on our papers inside Jamuna, Lacey, Tim and I headed to the park. I was craving water and open expanses, and there is one place in Venice to find it: the park in St Elena, one of the newer neighborhoods in Venice on the far Eastern edge of the city. Lucky for us it is only a twenty minute walk from home, so we packed a bag and headed out. Everyone was out, kids playing soccer in the park, couples walking arm in arm, dogs, teenagers hanging on each other. We drew, on a blanket in the sun, enjoying the feeling of normalcy.

Bus Tour

The Wisteria is blooming everywhere, here on a yellow wall at the Villa Barabaro.

Ceiling inside the Villa; the entire inside of the building is painted like this, floor to ceiling.








Steps leading into the chapel at the Brion Vega cemetery.


Runnels.





Drawing of the chapel.





Chapel on the water.




The kitchen at the agro tourism restaraunt where we had lunch, completely open to the dining room.







Well, the blog has become a little sparse lately due to a more regular life kind of schedule. We are taking a trip every week, however, when I am more inclined to take pictures. These are from a bus tour we had last Thursday of a few sites outside of Venice: Villa Barbaro, the Brion Vega Cemetery by Carlo Scarpa and the Gypsoteca del Canova, Canova's sculpture studio. This was a treat for me because I got to draw my favorite subject, people, and they stood so still for me! The room was beautiful, white walls filled with white plaster casts of marble sculpture so that everything in the room was shadow and light.

We also had the best meal we've had yet at agro tourism farm in the countryside: spinach and ricotta ravioli that melted in our mouths, risotto with white asparagus, roasted\deep fried potatoes, swiss chard and chicken, and as always unlimited wine and bottles of fizzy water. All the food came either from the farm or within 15 kilometers of the farm. Food has been an essential component of our time here, both the meals we've eaten out and the ones we've made from easily available fresh ingredients. I've been in heaven on multiple occasions, lucky to have a couple good friends here who love to cook.

Photo Shoot

On Saturday night we went out to the island of Mazzorbo for a fancy dinner and reception for our first crack at designs for Sacca San Mattia (celebrate the small things, right?) We all dressed up and caught the boat, a half hour ride from Venice, but arrived an hour early so Jamuna, Lacey and I headed over to the adjancent island of Burano and ended up doing a photo shoot in front of all the amazing houses. We're thinking we might have to go back with different outfits.

Verona

Roman Colliseum plaza with farmer's market.

Another market, check out the frescos on the walls of the buildings!

Interior of Castle Vecchio, now an art museum designed by Carlo Scarpa.

Saved frescos, I loved that there were pieces that had fallen off, the image was almost more interesting because of what was missing.

Looking down onto some of the ways in which Scarpa created 'historical clarity'

View of bridge leaving the castle and the hillsides around Verona

Cyprus trees! So stunning.

Giardino Giusti, a private garden that felt like heaven

Lacey tempting me with a scrap of food. She has gotten to know me well.

Exterior of a bank designed by Scarpa.

Red staircase.

Designed down to the details...a handrail in the bank.

We visited Verona on Friday, a full day trip an hour away on the train. It was such a breath of fresh air to be there, it's amazing how the experience of living in Venice has changed the way I feel about my body in relation to my surroundings. We don't often get vistas in Venice, or lush gardens, so being in Verona was sweet relief. The light there was stunning, perhaps it's all the pink and white stone, and the dark cyprus trees, but it felt golden and lovely.

From sea to mountains

Walking on the Lido beaches.


Entry to the golf course we visited to get an understanding of golf course design in Italy; apparently there are no public courses in the entire country, and this particular one was fairly prestigious.



View into the course.


Decking along the lagoon.


Blue!



Panorama of the Dolomites surrounding Cortina.


Looking down from the gondola.



Ski hill in April








Walking down from the snow.


Goofballs, coffee, and chairlifts as cafe furniture.



Cortina skyline.


These photos are from a couple days last weekend spent exploring the Lido, one of the Lagoon's barrier islands, and the Dolomites, a three hour train ride from Venice. We were on the Lido on Friday and in the mountains on Saturday, and marveled at our ability to be in two completely different landscapes over the course of such a short time. The contrast is clear: to go from flat and filled with water to being enclosed in high walls still covered with snow over the course of a few hours is pretty incredible, especially for those of us from the Midwest. We ended up in a little town called Cortina, the site of the 1956 Winter Olympics, several films including James Bond and Cliff Hanger, and apparently a favorite spot of the likes of George Clooney. The kind tourist agent was surprised that we'd never heard of it. It was lovely, with artful paving in the streets and of course amazing views.

We are entering into what feels like the production period of our time here, and all of us are currently in the phase of digging for ideas and trying to formulate some kind of synthesis to present as a first stab at a design. It is becoming increasingly clear how difficult it is to design within another culture, one that uses and shapes space in very different ways than we are accustomed to. Of course we go through this phase of wanting to bang our heads against the wall with every project, but with this one in particular it feels like our toolbox has been stripped bare and we are starting anew. I think this is a good thing; it is definitely a challenging thing, and a mind-bending-backwards kind of thing. The amount of time that we have left here is starting to become something that I can get my head around, and I am feeling the need to make a list of all the places I'd like to visit, and draw, before I leave. I can tell that I am becoming accustomed to living here because the detailing, ornate buildings, canals, solely pedestrian traffic, and markets around every corner are becoming a part of the background of my life; I don't want to forget that they are unique happenings, and get them down on paper.