Livorno

I guess we have some catching up to do...

Venice was really incredible. Actually, I didn't go into a single museum. I went into a few churches. Mostly, I just walked. It's a great city for walking. Since it's an island, it's impossible to get unrepairably lost. It's also impossible to not get lost in Venice. The way the streets wind around is very disorienting, especially for an American that's used to having his cities on grids. Still, there are few things in the world better than wandering through dark, overhanging alleys, down into mossy steps that lead to your own relflection, looking out into the side-canal and the decay along the buildings that is inevitable and omnipresent. I took my time on the streets there, usually buying a gelatti everyday.

As I wrote in my first entry, Venice was really the goal of this trip, and specifically, Brodsky's grave. Brodsky also wrote a book length essay about Venice, named Watermark. I read it carefully, and slowly while I was there, the same way that I wandered the canals. It was really beautiful. It's just over 100 pages, and large print, so even so it didn't take long to finish. The book winds through his various experiences in Venice--in the second half of his life, he went to Venice almost every year. He finished the book with an episode involving running into W.H. Auden in a cafe. It interests me that this city was so attractive to the both of them, as it is to me. I've met a lot of people on this trip who didn't think much of Venice. Most say that there isn't very much to do, which really is quite true. Venice, however, is a work of art: it needs no activity.

To further my Brodsky fest, I visited his grave three times. I had arrived in Venice on Sunday morning, and I went to the grave for the first time on Monday, followed by Tuesday and Wednesday. He's buried in the episcopalian section of the graveyard, which is somewhat ironic; Brodsky was a very proud (though secular) Jew. Even more ironic, he's buried in the same plot as Ezra Pound, the great antisemite of the modernist poetry movement. Unforunately (maybe), I couldn't find Pound's grave, but there are signs everywhere saying that he is in the same courtyard.

On Monday, after I had been to the grave, I wandered the city for a long time. At one point, I stopped on a bridge, overlooking a small canal with a gondola coming towards me. It caught my eye that the boat kept drifting off course, and the pilot kept having to push his foot against the walls to push away from the buildings. This is the only human contact that the walls outside these buildings have. No one can stop here to lean against the wall, and there can't even be a casual bump in the presence of a crowd. The only touch that this wall gets is one of desperation, a touch that tries to correct direction. The customers, in front of the pilot, were even more intriguing. It was a couple, probably my age, though perhaps older. They were sitting very awkwardly, as though they'd just gotten together. They were on opposite sides of the bench, and in the middle, their hands were connected. The man's expression was apathetic, perhaps a little nervous. The expression on the woman's face, however, is unforgettable: the greatest, strongest and most pure smile that I have ever seen. It seems that not everyone is able to really see the magic in venice, since it must come from within. This woman, at that moment, most definitely understood.

On Tuesday night, I met a Canadian named Paul. He's a 21 year old architecture student from Halifax, Ontario. On Wednesday, Paul and I met Evan, another canadian. He is a 25 year old philosphy graduate and a stone mason, specializing in dry stone masonry. Evan was on his way to Southern Italy to live on a farm through WWOOF and build a dry stone house. Very nice guys, though in the 6 days that I was with them, I may have learned too much about architecture. A little too much alchohol was consumed between the three of us (remember, it's legal here), and about the maximum amount of fun was had. We had some really fantastic talks, and I learned a lot from those guys.

Those six days include the time that I spent in Florence. Paul and I left for Florence on Thursday morning, and Evan met us there on Friday. The architecture expertise became very valuable in Florence. I learned first hand what was so unique about the duomo, how it was constructed, and why it meant so much; definitely more than I got out of my guidebook. The three of us went around to several churches, several gardens and several museums--including the Ufizi and the Accademia, which were definitely not disappointing. As far as the city of Florence, I was a little disappointed. After Venice, I think anything would have been a let down. But the art was wonderful. Seeing the Botaceli collection was incredible, and the Rembrantd as well. And the Statue of David, of course. All of the art was every bit as wonderful as the reputations would suggest. I spent quite a bit of time at both David, and the Birth of Venus, just staring. It was wonderful.

Yesterday, Monday, I left for Livorno. My friend Cristiano lives here. He was an exchange student to Nevada Union my Junior year; Sanrda Rockman and Tony Jackoloni were his host parents. It's about a 15 minute train ride from Pisa, but it's much larger. It's one of the largest ports in Italy, and I actually find it quite nice, despite warnings from Cristiano. It's really not a tourist destination at all, but that's okay. Apparently, several hundred years ago, Pisa was the major port. The water level then when down so much that it was useless, so the Madici family had Livorno built, putting in nice incentives for people to move here liek "any legal convictions are forgiven if you move to this city." Sounds like a good deal! It's really fantastic just to be here, in an apartment instead of a hostel, having delicious (a much too modest word for Cristiano's INCREDIBLE cooking) home-cooked Italian meals. Today we walked to the beach and had a great talk about poetry. Cristiano is a philosophy major, and his English is excellent, lending to beautiful conversation. He studies in Pisa, so tomorrow I'll accompany him to his university, and just wander while he has class. Apparently the leaning tower is really the only thing to see in Pisa, but it will still be fun. It's nice to be able to really relax here. I've been waring myself out being on the go so much, and I never want to stop moving because I always feel like while I'm in Europe, I shouldn't waste a moment. Somehow, while I'm here, I'm much more able to let go. It's really been fun so far.