Day 13

[unforth]

Today was a more active day than yesterday, without being extreme. Mom is still not feeling great, so we got a kind of late start, which was fine (I spent the time writing a long post over on the other blog). We headed first over to the Basilica San Marco. This is considered the must see sight of the city. On the outside, it wasn't that apparent why. Don't get me wrong - it's damn impressive, with multiple gleaming domes topped by elaborate cross like things, and five arched entry ways domed over with mosaics that gleam gold in the sun - but it doesn't look huge and awe inspiring like the Cologne Cathedral (my benchmark for what it means to be impressive at a level 10 on a scale from 1 - 10). That all changes when you get inside. We decided to head right up to the terrace, without having gotten a glimpse inside, so when we stepped out on to the second floor landing and turned towards the interior of the building, what we saw was truly shocking and absolutely amazingly beautiful. Sadly, there aren't really any pics (I snuck a couple...) because photography was not permitted, but in truth, this is one of those instances that I cannot conceive of the photograph that could have captured what our eyes beheld. Every single inch of the upper levels of the church - the top halves of the walls, every dome, every niche in the walls, beneath every arch, every bit is COVERED by mosaic. The backgrounds for all of the mosaic is golden. Not ocher colored, but actually honest to god golden colored, catching the light and shining, and the very colorful mosaics set in to this gold show many different things and are from different time periods, from very Byzantine looking torso's of prophets, saints, and martyrs, to a side transept depicting all of Mary's family tree (old men in a kind of mannerist style, sitting on tree branches, but with a gold background). Some tell the story of the life of St. Mark, the patron saint of the city, while others depict saints going about what their usual identifying activities (one of the closest to us as we stood and peered was a St. Michael slaying an awesome looking dragon). Capping the center above the transept was a depiction of the ascension of Christ. It was one of the few things in life that I've seen that I just stood and stared at, dumb founded, and no matter where I looked there was something else to see.

After a good 10 minutes, we actually went out to the terrace, and took some shots of the mosaics out there, and of the view of the Piazza, the surrounding buildings, and the Palazzo Ducale and the Campanile. Then we ducked back in, stared a bit more, then went on a walk through of the museum. The museum was rather modest but was worth the entry cost. First, it showed the original bronze horses, replicas of which now crown the main entrance to the church. These life-size bronzes look like they could start prancing at any instant, and date to sometime between the 2nd century BC and 4th century AD. They are the only matched set of four monumental horses to survive from ancient times, and no one really knows where the heck they came from, though they suspect they were looted from Constantinople (the Venetians raided a LOT of stuff from Constantinople...). The next section of the museum featured crumbling bits of wood work and sad old mosaics, all salvaged during restoration work that has replaced them. It was really awesome to get to be that close to the old mosaics and really see how the colors are used to make the dazzling effects. It's really something. The third and last part of the museum featured some items from their vaults, almost all textiles, which included some very impressive and finely done old tapestries, and some examples of 18th century Venetian lace that were beautiful. There was a chasuble in great shape, but it turned out to only be about 100 years old so I wasn't as impressed as I was by the fragments of horrible old yellowed crumbling Byzantine embroidery dating to the 12th century. Seeing these amazing old tapestries so brown and old, I tried to close my eyes and imagined how they must have looked when they were bright and fresh!

After finishing the museum, we went down on the ground of the Basilica and continued to gawk. In addition to the amazing ceiling, the floor was damn impressive to, with pietre dure style marble inlay and sections of mosaic - there was a beautiful one of peacocks. We ducked in to the small treasury, where they had a lot of very fine vessels carved from semi-precious stones, a huge and entirely useless sword whose handle and sheath appeared to be made entirely from either gilded bronze or gold, and more reliquaries than I've ever seen in one place, including any number (maybe 50?) saintly finger and foot bones, plus a few with bigger bones (and one with a skull!) Reliquaries always seem slightly absurd to me, but there is something intriguing about them none the less. We also paid the small fee to the Pala d'Oro, which is the Basilica's most precious treasure: an altar, hidden from the usual public view by a painted front piece, made entirely out of gold with enamel plaques of Christ and numerous saints. Oh, and it's like 8 feet long and four feet high. And encrusted with precious and semi-precious stones. It's some large number of centuries old (14th century? 15th century?) and it glitters in a truly astonishing way. Never seen anything quite like it. It's either disgustingly gaudy, completely amazing or, most likely, kinda both. I took a picture, mostly cause everyone else was. I know, lemmings.

That was about all there was to do there, and it was plenty, so we headed out. Mom was tired, so I took her back to the room, and I headed out to visit the Museo Correr, the Museo Archaeologique, and the Biblioteca San Marciano, all of which are housed in the same building. The Correr is a museum about the history of the city of Venice, and my book had warned that it wasn't terribly interesting, and sadly I have to mostly agree. At least there was lots of labeling in English, but they didn't go enough in depth about anything I would have actually cared about. There were some paintings and sculptures (mostly the second were by Canova) that were harmless, and there was a collection of coins dating to the foundation of the city that would have actually been pretty awesome if I had interest in numismatics - unfortunately, I don't. There were a surprising number of large old globes - I snuck a picture of the one that showed California as an island - and a room of old maps of Venice, the most impressive of which was actually the original bronze (or copper? or something...) etching plate used to make an immense version - it was pretty stunning handiwork.

From there, it was upstairs to their painting collection. They had a nice collection of old pieces, but everything they had was matched or exceeded by what we saw at the Accademie yesterday. This was followed by a more interesting collection of small pieces, mostly devotional, by Flemish artists. There were some particularly interesting ones, including one of the strangest Temptation of St. Anthony's I've ever seen (it had a head on one side that had salamanders crawling in to the mouth and eyes, and even the tempting part was pretty not tempting) - it was clearly in the style of Bosch, but honestly if someone had told me it was painted by Dali I'd probably believe them. There were a few nice portraits scattered about, an interesting Pieter Brueghel that showed the nativity as a winter scene in a typical Dutch country town, and a number of other paintings that were nice but oddly not memorable. Unfortunately, for no particularly clear reason, most of their best works weren't out - a bunch were on loan, and another was in for restoration as of two days ago. All in all, it wasn't a bad collection by any means, but it just wasn't that memorable.

Back downstairs ago, and on to the Archaeological Museum, which allowed photography. This had a collection of Roman antiquities that I would have reckoned good before last week, plus a few Egyptian and Assyrian odds and ends, that were pretty mediocre, which I'd have expected also. The standouts were some very large heads of various folks, and a really neat statue depicting Ulysses. I always liked the Odyssey best, and I don't think I've seen a sculpture depiction of Odysseus before, so that was pretty cool. They also had some more neat old coins, plus a couple neat bronzes (like there was one of a boar that was life like). Then there were the two rooms of the Library, which were more impressive for the decor than for anything else, though they were in the process of assembling an exhibition on what appeared to be 19th century photographs from Turkey, that were rather odd yet rather interesting. No labeling in English, so I'm not sure what they were getting out. I snapped a bunch of pictures there (including in front of staff!) before any one bothered to tell me I wasn't allowed to, which I thought distinctly odd.

After that it was back through the last few rooms of the Correr. These were more interesting (really, the paintings were pretty interesting too, if only as a reminder of what second-rate collections get when housed in museums with first rate collections, and that what counts as a second-rate collection after seeing a first-rate collection would actually be first-rate in most places in the world). They had a nice collection of bronzes, OH! And I forgot, they had an ENTIRE ROOM in the painting area dedicated to maiolica ware (which I'm probably misspelling). This is middle ages pottery painted in very bright enamels, and is something I really like. It was hilarious to me, I'd really been good about not taking pictures, but then I got to that room, and there was no one to guard me (cause who the hell cares about maiolica ware other than me??) and so I snapped a whole bunch. There I am, rapt, while every other visitor glanced around and just kept on walking. I thought it was really funny. Also, that reminds, there was a painting of the Wedding at Cana that I thought was pretty good. :)

Right. So, after the bronzes and my happy encounter with the entire room of maiolica, I went through the last few rooms of the Correr. These were dedicated to the crafts of Venice, and in some ways were the most interesting. First were some neat old paintings of some of the festivals (some of which, like Carnivale, are still celebrated; others of which - like the one where the inhabitants of the different islands used to annually meet on the bridges to beat the snot out of each other - seriously, I'm not making this up - are no longer celebrated due to the mounting numbers of casualties. Then, there were some samples of various arts and crafts, including some lace, a neat ladies box completely painted, and some wonderful examples of woodwork. These were the highlight to me, my favorite being the large display that showed another local Venice tradition, the Hercules feats, in which large groups would be assembled to build the largest towers they could managed (like, men standing on the shoulders of other men) - but with the help of props. This model was, like 10 men-levels high. And then, in another display case - showing examples of very fine work in boxwood, a media I'm very fond of - I found the piece that explains why I travel the world to look at art. It was a wooden wine bottle stopper, maybe as high as my hand, maybe smaller, depicting a naked woman masturbating while a dog sniffed up her leg. Surely, I thought to myself, this is why I do this. Or something.

Right. Onward, then, there were some neat paintings that used to be advertisements for the various trade guilds, and then I was done!

I headed back to the hotel, and mom and I went to go get afternoon tea at a place called Florian. While this turned out to be pleasant, it wasn't worth the very steep price (jacked up because they charged us 6 euro each to listen to their band playing outside, sigh). The tea was a house blend which was rather nice - black tea with orange and lavender - and everything was good, but I was disappointed by the amount of food that constituted my tea service (though it was tasty, especially the sandwiches). It wasn't a waste - it was as pleasant as tea ever is - but not worth repeating at that mark up, unlike Babingtons.

From there, it was some window shopping, even more sweets from Marchini, and now I'm back here, typing this, and it's getting on towards evening. A good day, all in all. :)