Venice

I was in Venice the week my family usually goes to the beach, so it was really refreshing to be able to be on the water so much; my hostel was on Giudecca, which required a taxi-boat to get to most of the attractions of the city.

I was there primarily for the Architecture Biennale, directed this year by Rem Koolhaas, friend of the blog, which was fascinating and overwhelming. I spent approximately 12 hours there over the course of two days and didn't manage to see everything. The exhibition reduced architecture to a seried of 15 elements chronicling their acquisition of "degree[s] of consciousness" via the incorporation of digital technology. I felt more hopeful about the developments showcased there than the apocalyptic tone of the exhibition catalog indicated Mr. Koolhaas did. 

Apart from the Biennale was a lot of wandering. I got lost a few times, but was lucky enough to find out that my phone was able to track my location despite my not having access to mobile data, so I was rarely out of danger.

I left at about 4 am on the third morning with a bag bulging with books and pamphlets from the Biennale, excited for my train ride into the Alps, which did not disappoint.

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Oh No

Heinz Mack Installation, San Giorgio Maggiore

Roof Room, Venice Architecture Biennale

Gotcha

Outskirts

Santa Maria della Salute

Florence

The first thing I have written down from Florence is that I saw a guy whose shirt simply said "WINNING TEAM" and a restaurant called "Bakery's Pizza." Up next: "Italy is a world leader in old men on bikes." If those aren't great ads for Italian tourism I don't know what is.

I spent my first morning waiting to get into the Accademia to see the David. I was stuck behind an 11-year-old Yankees fan who wasn't afraid to badmouth my World Series Champion Red Sox, but we managed to get along fine after he found out I'd gone to Michigan (he got that one right, at least). The David was huge - it's ironic that after slaying a giant he became one himself. I then ventured over to the Medici Palace to see their chapel, which I wrote about for one of my first term courses, and which was incredible. Neither place had much going on except for the main events, but both were spectacular.

David 1

David 2

That night I spent at the hostel, drinking cheap supermarket beer and watching soccer with some new friends, both Englishmen. I'd met them just hours before but we'd somehow gotten to a point where we were discussing our futures with each other. Even correcting for the beer, it was refreshingly honest and I appreciated it in the midst of hostel small-talk. I passed out fairly early, rose fairly early, and went to the Duomo on a cappuccino/croissant buzz right around opening time. I hadn't realized beforehand that visitors were allowed to climb to the top, and I was ecstatic to be able to see the entire city from up there -  it's a shame that's not allowed at St. Paul's back here in London. In addition to that view, I also accidentally saw a woman's breast - I glanced down to look at her baby (who'd waved to me during our ascent) without realizing she'd been breastfeeding and my timing was wrong. Another rosary, I guess?

Top of Duomo from Bell Tower

Bell Tower from top of Duomo

Duomo fresco

My final night in Florence was spent in the Piazza della Repubblica, eating a panini and drinking wine (recommendations from friends from Italy and Michigan, respectively). I met a friendly Dutchman who worked for Bose, who showed me some photos he'd taken of a strange team wrestling sport that we'd seen being played in front of Santa Croce but didn't understand at all. I had a few pints, watched England lose, and went to bed ready to move on to Venice and the Biennale.

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I Forget What This Was

Zits

Duomo, interior

Santa Croce 

C'mon Man

Rome

It's been a month and a half since I overslept and missed my flight to Rome, since I nearly got sick in the van on the way to Gatwick, since I ran frantically through the streets of a new city in a new country searching for an ATM that would work so I could pay the cash-only hostel for my bed. Suffice it to say the time has flown.

By the time I finally got settled I was eating a cheap calzone by the Coliseum, which I hadn't expected to see so quickly. I wandered home, sent my dad a Father's Day text, and passed out.

My first morning I waded through the eddies of overbearing "Fast Track" tour guides and over-bored tourists to the end of the line for the Vatican Museum. We shuffled our way along the bottom of a steep embankment, turned a corner, and saw the rain clouds advancing. Within minutes of the first drop the guides produced umbrellas and ponchos, which most people needed. It was a wet and chilly wait the rest of the way, but I was lucky enough to be allowed to hold the umbrella for an older couple and their son who only spoke German. We attempted to comment on the weather intermittently and I lost them once we made it inside.

I squelched my way across various papal marbles, enjoying the frescoes but ultimately only really thinking about the Sistine Chapel, which was far darker than I had expected but nonetheless worth the morning's drenching. Not unlike the scene at the Mona Lisa, the people watching here was pretty choice, especially when the guards caught someone taking photos. The next thing I remember is drying my feet and body in St. Peter's Square before wandering across the river into Trastevere, and eventually back to the Piazza Venezia to catch some of Germany-Portugal.

Piazza Venezia

The next day I walked all the way to the MAXXI museum (farther than I realized, well worth it) to see my second Zaha Hadid building in person, as well as my first Ed Ruscha painting. Other highlights included a primer on Piero Sartogo, "Roma Interruta" (Rome-centric architectural theorizing), Sol Lewitt, and catching a photos of these guys on my way home:

Beard Twins

The best phenomenon I encountered in Rome (which sadly went unphotographed) was what I dubbed the "Part-time Priest." As one might expect, there is an abundance of clerics in Rome, and it being July it was rather hot, particularly (I assume) under the clerical collars. Which meant that plenty of them were undone. Which gave me the distinct impression of there being legions of priests, fresh off double shifts, just ready to let loose. Which made me laugh. Which isn't what you're supposed to do at priests that aren't recycling homily jokes. (I think I got away with it. I'll say a rosary for good measure.)

My time in Rome ended back at the Piazza, with pizza and beer, watching the World Cup as the sun went down.

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Checking In Again

Just a note that I'll be using tumblr as an ongoing file cabinet for sketches/photos/quotes/notes etc. Check it out if you wanna. Trying for three substantive updates a week (a tall order, I know, but I'm done with school now so I can handle it, right?).

Thoughts on summer/future coming next week, just before I leave for Italy/Switzerland/Germany/Czech Republic/Austria.

In the spirit of cataloguing, here's what I've been reading:

 - Hans Ulrich Obrist, The Conversation Series, Vol. 4: Rem Koolhaas
 - Log 26 (Fall 2012)
 - Alexandra Lange, Writing About Architecture: Mastering the Language of Buildings and Cities
 - Malcolm McCullough, Digital Ground

Really digging the latter two. The former is just about what you'd expect but has the added bonus of providing a primer on major figures in architectural criticism from the 20th century. The latter deals with "context-oriented technological design," examining the implications of the digitalization of everything (see "things, internet of") for physical and (especially) place-based interventions into daily life.

Also: can't stop listening to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's self-titled album. If you care to give a listen, keep in mind that you'll get past the guy's voice eventually.

Also also: been continuing my photographic exploration. Highlights from this week below.

Kitchen Window

National Theatre

The Eye

Westminster

Calm Before the Storm

Roofs, Birds

Amsterdam

Amsterdam managed to be a good midpoint between aggressive tourism in Paris and laying low in Brussels. There was plenty of walking (we even got a bit lost one night) but the canals and buildings made the walking worthwhile. I dragged RJ to the Stedelijk Museum for some killer contemporary art (Flavin! Wall! Kienholz!) and a hotly contested Marcel Wanders exhibition.

Richard Serra at the Stedelijk

The Red Light District was about what I expected, but that didn't make it any less strange. What managed to make it more strange, however, was the woman there to take pictures with her two daughters in tow ("Mom, the ladies aren't happy about it!"), neither of whom could have been older than ten. The ladies weren't, in fact, happy about having their photos taken, or else I'd show mine here.

The Anne Frank House was fascinating and more than a little harrowing. Most frustrating, of course, is the museum's insistence that she couldn't have been a Belieber due to a condition called "anachronism", which sounds made up to me.  

Bird and Boy

Sunday Drive

 

Aperture Experiment

I'll Put a Move on You

Peeking

Brussels

After the walk-a-thon of Paris, we were glad to find that Brussels was a small city. We found some beers and made our way to a local restaurant and wandered until we were tired.

Day 1 was spent walking to, exploring, and coming home from the EU Parliamentarium, which aside from teaching me more about the EU also had this cool display:

We also met a dinosaur:

RJ also had to do laundry at one point, so we hung out and did that the following afternoon. It was odd, being alone (literally, or as the only white/male/foreign people) in the laundromat on vacation, but it was commensurate with Brussels being the resting place between the intensive walking/sightseeing of Paris and Amsterdam.

With RJ at the Laundromat in Brussels

There were plenty of cool sights, though - especially the architecture. Here are the rest of the highlights.

Sainte-Catherine

Selfie, Grand Place

RJ, Surveying

Musee royal de l'armee 

Sniped

Not Photoshopped

Paris

RJ and I emerged from the Chunnel and immediately noticed we'd become sophisticated - like a continental breakfast. I'd always been curious what it's be like to be urbane, and was glad to find that it suited me. I can only assume that the French police that checked our bags on the platform did so to see where we got our clothes.

We walked most of the city that first afternoon, from Montmartre (we were staying right near Sacre-Coeur) to the Concorde, along the Champs-Elysees to the Arc d'Triomphe and down to see the Eiffel Tower just in time for sunset. I accidentally led some German teens into traffic - I didn't know they were following me, or for that matter what I was doing in the first place. We all got out ok and I decided to use my "seeming French" powers for good from then on out.

It was around dinnertime that night that we realized we didn't know any French. The waiter at that first cafe didn't seem to approve of our lack of preparation, so we ended up at a kebab shop around the corner before crashing at the hostel.

The next day we managed to get into Notre-Dame before the lines got incredibly long. I said a Hail Mary and RJ and I tried to imagine someone living in there. It's cavernous, and the way it's built makes it apparent. At some points you can see through a wall (via a window or arch) in front of you, and then through several more behind:

Notre Dame Cathedral

Then onto the Louvre. Well worth it, although the mob scene at the Mona Lisa slightly overshadowed the painting itself. I knew it was small, but what I wasn't expecting was the overbearing presence of middle schoolers from Maryland.

The Mona Lisa

This was also the day we got to go up on the Eiffel Tower. We walked up to the second level but didn't go all the way to the top. I managed a few good photos though:

The Top

Neighbors

In all we walked about 32 miles in under 3 days. Other highlights included Shakespeare & Co., The Bastille, talking about Queen Elizabeth's timeshare in Denver, and mussels. Here are the other good photos:

Moulin Rouge

Try Riding a Mile in My Stroller

CDG

Do We Know Him?

Champs-Elysees

RJ