Venice

Venice 

I have just returned from the Veneto region of Italy with my lovely friends Sara & Eva who are studying there. We spent half the time in Venice wandering its 118 islands before travelling to Verona. We were blessed with a friend’s gorgeous little apartment in an abandoned Palazzo to borrow on the Grand Canal.

Its walls were adorned with frescoes and in the early hours we’d sit on our window ledge dangling our toes above the water, falling in love with Venice by night. In the mornings we’d emerge from the covers and lie listening to the splashing of water as the first Gondolas went by.

With only three days in Venice and it being Spring, we wanted to stray from the tourist trail and discover its secrets especially in the wine bars, gardens and art. 

Despite being in the company of three friends fluent in Italian, the words ‘Vin Rossi’, ‘Sogni D’oro’, ‘l'acqua del rubinetto’ and ‘posso avere un bacio’ were always useful! Packing wise, black on black is the way to go and don’t show skin before May or you’ll declare yourself a tourist.

For food our favourite Osteria was the ramshackle, but delicious 'Paradiso Perduto', which serves platters of fresh octopus and more obscure varieties of seafood to share by candlelight. Thankfully, you only hear Italian voices over the gypsy music.

 On the last night the intimate hideaway Vini de Gigio – tucked away beside a dark little canal - was a little more grown up, but equally delicious for its melanzane, clams and wines.

For drinks Rialto was where we always went to drink Vin Rossi

and the infamous ‘Spritz’ on the docks with the rest of the young Venetians. Near our palazzo apartment was Al Cantinon Osteria, where Sara told me all about the intriguing and inspiring philosophers she’s learnt about in Verona. Hegel’s ‘The Death of Art’, Fish’s ‘Aesthetic distance’ and Plato’s essay on beauty are now on my reading list!

In the prestigious centre of the Sculo Grande of the Santa Maria della Carita (one of the most ancient lay fraternal orders of the city) I was easily swept up in the romance of Accademia. I was overwhelmed by the collection of Venetian paintings from the Byzantine and Gothic to the 14^th century to works of artists like Carpaccio, Giorgione, Tintoretto, Tiziano through to the Vedutisti of the 18^th century.

I discovered a new hero Jacopo Robusti whose allegorical images like ‘St Mark Rescues a Saracen’ left me spellbound. My favourite Bellini was ‘Madonna del Cherubini Rossi’, which resembled a surrealist work of Dali. As I sat sketching and taking notes in the gallery I felt a sense of tranquillity and release from the stress of the crowds outside, it’s the perfect place to find a moment of harmony. 

The Basilica Frari was an equally spiritual and calm place to light a candle and explore before the contemporary Pinault collection. As we boarded the 8.05 train to Verona we talked about how Venice is indeed one of the most beautiful places we’ve been, but how we were deeply saddened by the impact of tourism. The advice to ‘let yourself get lost’ is valuable, but going with Italians is the best thing you can do.

 Our most magic memories from the long weekend were the evenings we spent wandering the cobbled streets with Vin Rossi from Rialto and looking up at the wonderful architecture. To be in a city where the sky is truly dark at night is something so rare. This was the view from our bedroom at night...

Punchdrunk

Punchdrunk's 

The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable

The elusive Punchdrunk Theatre Co.'s 'The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable'  was an experience like no other. We paid our £45 (best i've every spent) and expected the profound. We entered the three floor building wear masks - in silence - and were pushed out of a lift into terrifying total darkness. As our eyes adjusted to the abandoned set the heavy music was neurotic and intense and seemed to resonate in our souls as we struggled to think of anything else! It controlled our mood, lifting us, dropping us as the drama unfolded. It felt like wandering around in a dreamlike state of hallucination:  three hours of pure escapism. There was sex, nudity, violence and fear. A cocktail for raw entertainment. 

"Amidst the fading glamour of 1960s Los Angeles, stands Temple Studios – a crumbling monument to the golden age of film, seducing wide-eyed dreamers with the promise of wealth and fame. Here, movie stars mingle with hungry young upstarts, while beyond the gates lies a forgotten hinterland where the many rejected by the studio system scratch out a living. Inspired by Georg Büchner's fractured masterpiece Woyzeck, The Drowned Man explores the darkness of the Hollywood dream. Celluloid fantasy meets desperate reality, and certainty dissolves into a hallucinatory world"

The characters danced and chased each other around the labyrinth of rooms and floors, it was a physical challenge in itself to follow them. The story was set in a cowboy world out West and the set was brilliant. There were caravans, burnt out Cadillacs, diners and post offices and everything in them worked, was edible, you could even get into the bed with a whiskey if you so desired. I strayed from chasing the characters at one point and wandered into a post office where I sneakily opened a letter from the bottom of the pile. To my delight, it was a  hand written, neurotic letter between two of the play's lovers. Astounding attention to detail. 

The most awe inspiring scene was watching Dwayn in a state of agonizing delirium, throwing his body into the air in twists and turns verging on contortion. Before we knew it he was naked and writhing in the sand. Not to break the intensity of his performance, but there was comedy gold to be observed as every female spectator suddenly galloped across the set to watch this frolicking aerien nude (it was similar to the infamous Specsavers advert with the man on the beach)

 The performance plays with your mind, you could run to the third floor and stumble upon a scene you'd already watched unfold hours before. for example i had watched a waitress deliver a lemonade to her lover in the grocery store, then an hour later I found her making the very same lemonade back in the diner and skating off in his direction. The greatest pleasure was the childlike sense of discovery I found in myself as I ran alone through the building, searching for excitement in the darkness.

 At the end of the play, after a murder has been committed William pulls his lover's drowned corpse from the fountain and everybody gasped at how real it felt. If it all got too overwhelming during the performance there was a seductive speakeasy style bar hidden in the set, where you could watch a voluptuous singer dazzle you with her charms over a manhattan cocktail.

 It felt like a hallucination: hedonists join the queue. 

Watch the trailer and book your tickets!

Crafted

Crafted: Makers of the Exceptional Showcase 

The Royal Academy, Burlington Gardens. 

http://www.craftedshowcase.co.uk/royal-academy

Today I did a little work as Social Media Editor to the founder of Guilded Ltd (www.guilded.co.uk) at the Crafted Showcase. This hidden world of Great Britain's most talented craftsmen is being sponsored by Walpole British Luxury at The Royal Academy, Burlington Gardens. I was unsure of what to expect of a 'Crafted Showcase', given that the title slightly conjures up memories of little old ladies presenting their knitting accomplishments. However, I was pleasantly surprised and totally spellbound by a vast array of exquisite pieces from incredibly talented artists - some of which were present to demonstrate their construction processes.  

From light installations to bicycles, knitwear, watches and sculptures, there was something for everyone to lust after. Beyond Sophie Coryndon's gorgeous 'Vine' (shown above) are a few of my favourite pieces...

Emma Yeo - Latice Brass headpiece with navy chiffon silk hood inlay.

Gentleman's travel box.

 Geoffrey Preston - Decorative Plasterwork 

Alex Ramsay - Silver, glass enamels. 

Method Studio - City Bikes

Rothschild & Bickers - Hand blown glass and Metal lighting installation.

Gillie Jones - Blown wheel cut and sand carved green glass.

Hand knitted Fair Isle Jumpers. Her sketchbook and paints are shown above. 

Katie Walker's Ash finished chairs with White wax oil.

Breathe In

A Film review of 'Breathe In'.

The former Sundance Festival winner Drake Doremus gives us ‘Breathe In’ - a truly honest portrayal of deep, inconvenient love. It crosses the boundaries of age and conformity to achieve a level of purity and unrivalled, raw, emotional intensity I’ve never seen before. The story follows an English girl (Felicity Jones) who comes to study in America to escape her grief.  She stays with an incredibly close family and despite her resistance slowly falls in love with the father (Guy Pearce), a piano teacher tainted by his unfulfilled ambition. 

It is shot in a simplistic manner, with a subdued colour palette and a gentle focus on exquisite detail from an abandoned swing at dusk to a particularly poignant book title. Watching this film was an agonizing experience in itself, I was consistently moved by the powerful sense of longing communicated by stolen glances between the physically detached - yet emotionally entwined - lovers. There are no sex scenes and barely any kissing, but my god you feel like the forbidden lovers have broken every rule imaginable. 

The hauntingly beautiful classical soundtrack (especially the track 'Steep Hills of Vicodin Tears') drew me further into the paradox of their euphoria turned to suffering. The crescendo leading up to the expectant silence of the intimate reservoir scene left us with a feeling of humbling emptiness when everything crumbled into loss. As 'Breathe In' draws to a close the father closes the lid of his piano and therefore gives up on any sense of wonder in his life and tragically our hearts sink with his. If you want to be moved, if you want to risk having your perspective on love and its boundaries dramatically altered, give this contemporary masterpiece a chance.

Opera

Mozart’s The Magic Flute 
The Fire Station, Bristol

On Saturday we wandered down to one of Bristol's most dynamic and intimate venues: The Fire Station. We had the pleasure of seeing the last matinee performance of Bristol Operatic Society putting on Mozart’s ‘The Magic Flute’ using Edward Dent's 'English Libretto' . It was my first operatic experience and I am incredibly grateful that this whimsical fairytale was performed in English, because I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on the wonderfully enchanting narrative! 

The performance was not only sugar to the ears, but visually entrancing thanks to the simple screens drawing from ukiyo-e art and the  exquisite costumes and make up, which were all inspired by Japanese mythology. The attention to detail and the flawless performance really demonstrated the effort put into the performance over the last 5 months by the dedicated students.

 The Queen of the Night played by an infinitely talented soprano gave the most electrifying solos throughout, which reached spectacular notes, which pierced our very conscious! The lead female Pamina was as delicate in appearance as with her hauntingly beautiful voice.  The male roles were all incredibly well performed across a diverse vocal range, especially the character Papageno who shone through - not only a skilled singer - but also as a brilliantly funny actor. The orchestra were truly spectacular and our proximity to the musicians made the whole experience all the more captivating. 

For a mere £6 I feel so grateful to have finally been so beautifully introduced to the magical realm of the performing arts that is Opera. I'm now buzzing for my next hit, whether it be at the rather more traditional venues of London's Royal Opera House, New York's Metropolitan Opera or perhaps another equally imaginative venue in Bristol. 

P.S If you love healthy food or vegan treats the Fire Station's in-house cafe, which was a wonderful choice during the interval - full of scrumptious falafel, salads, gluten-free carrot cakes and aromatic coffee.