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| Evans, Paris. Français-Anglais Translator. |
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| [L] Ivana, Venice. Pastry Chef/Artist. [R] Ajeet, Singapore. Working at the Mexican Pavilion,Venice Biennale. |
Friday 23 September 2011
Cloud Couture - 1
Sunday 18 September 2011
The three people you meet in Venice
It is hard to differentiate the hundreds of people we pass by at work and in the city each day, but amidst that cloud of swirling, faceless "buongiorno"s and "grazie"s there are just those few clumps of people that linger for a little while more.
The Clueless Tourist
" What is this?" is possibly the most Frequently Asked Question we get while working at the pavilion.
Perhaps its the title on the signboard outside,steps leading into the dark, or the noise and wisps of smoke (cloud) leaking out, that bestows The Cloud of Unknowing this curious, highly mysterious aura. Many of the visitors we get are not aware of the Biennale, or are just passing by from the Dali Museum/Gondola point adjacent to us, and are pleasantly surprised that it is free to enter. It is most gratifying when these people who happened to chance upon the pavilion rave about how they enjoyed the film very much, as it's always nice to know that accessible art has that power to reach out to the viewer, and that The Cloud has left an indelible mark on their memories of Venice just as they have on mine.
The Presumptuous Salesman
He is a relatively young male working in a shop near San Marco Square, and goes "Ni hao! (pause) Konnichiwa!" and wraps his arms around our shoulders as we enter the store. While subtly shuffling out of his unwelcome embrace we can only view his possibly sincere, friendly smile as a self-congratulatory smirk at using what he thinks is our native tongue. This happens everywhere, and frankly it gets rather annoying. But as we walk around Venice, you see shop signs sporting Japanese characters, hoards of Chinese trotting around with their designer purchases, and realize that it is just a (rather tacky) tactic they picked up to adapt to that influx of Asian consumers in recent years,just as how people adopted the English language as universal in the era of Western hegemony. And you somehow know, when you see the ubiquitous Chinese Salesman in Italian luxury brand outlets- who have limited knowledge of English or Italian but speak perfect mandarin- that Asia is taking over the world.
The Beggars in San Marco
There is the elderly lady in a flowery headscarf by a bridge near the Square and another much younger-looking one with almost half her face covered in hair. Both wail softly to the same sad song as they rock back and forth, peering beseechingly into your eyes as they hold up their half-empty cup for alms. There is only so much one person can do, donating a euro or two, and I can't help but marvel at the ironic juxtaposition of the beggars opposite a whole row of high-end branded stores. It was always discomforting to walk by them. Especially so when crowds before you just pass them by, insouciantly, purchases in hand. A very stark, disconcerting reminder that That is inequality, and no matter how affluent a society grows as a whole, there will always be those who are left behind.
It has been such a fantastic six weeks here at the pavilion, the Biennale, in Venice. I am truly grateful for this opportunity to have lived and worked in this city before it is submerged- not just by rising water levels, but by the sheer weight of tourists and tourism almost physically sinking the place and its inhabitants. We were privileged to have a comfortable apartment, to have eaten and lived well, and Venice was a beautiful place to be in- but sadly, probably only to those who could afford it.
Arrivederci
x
sze
Tuesday 13 September 2011
An Idyllic Venice
So far Venice has been great for me! Sze and Steph have been really helpful in helping me get to know Venice better! When I had just arrived, all the different pathways looked the same to me and I always had a nagging feeling that I was going to get lost if I didn't pay attention to where I was headed. But four days and a lot of walking later, I find that you can't really get lost in Venice - in the end, everything leads to somewhere that's near to where you're headed and before you know it, you're at Corte Michiel (home) .
On my recent day off, I headed down to Giardini (to see the other pavilions) and on the way I stopped by a leather-craft store and bought my mom a magnifying glass. The store owner was really chatty and he was telling me why he loved Venice and why he'd never ever leave no matter how many times his store gets flooded by the high tides (happens every year). Among the many things about Venice he was telling me about, here's something he said that really struck me: (Italian accent) "Ah, you know, Miss, Venice, is perfect for me... you know, we, euh, are not, you know, slave to cars! You want to go places, you take boat maybe, but otherwise you take walking only. We walk everywhere, all places, all the time. It's good for health good for life! This is why I love to stay in Venice."
Two days later on our Monday off-day, all of us headed down to Mestre (on mainland Venice) - I saw cars again for the first time in about a week, and I couldn't help but recall what the leather-craft store owner said that day. Seeing the contrast between Mestre and touristy Venice was to me, a reminder that more cars/over reliance on automobiles really isn't the solution to a better environment in the long run!
On other fronts - Cain, Joey: Look forward to you guys arriving in Venice!
Tamara Kisha
On my recent day off, I headed down to Giardini (to see the other pavilions) and on the way I stopped by a leather-craft store and bought my mom a magnifying glass. The store owner was really chatty and he was telling me why he loved Venice and why he'd never ever leave no matter how many times his store gets flooded by the high tides (happens every year). Among the many things about Venice he was telling me about, here's something he said that really struck me: (Italian accent) "Ah, you know, Miss, Venice, is perfect for me... you know, we, euh, are not, you know, slave to cars! You want to go places, you take boat maybe, but otherwise you take walking only. We walk everywhere, all places, all the time. It's good for health good for life! This is why I love to stay in Venice."
Two days later on our Monday off-day, all of us headed down to Mestre (on mainland Venice) - I saw cars again for the first time in about a week, and I couldn't help but recall what the leather-craft store owner said that day. Seeing the contrast between Mestre and touristy Venice was to me, a reminder that more cars/over reliance on automobiles really isn't the solution to a better environment in the long run!
On other fronts - Cain, Joey: Look forward to you guys arriving in Venice!
Tamara Kisha
Friday 9 September 2011
updated media list!
greetings! the cloud of unknowing plays daily (except mondays), do come by in case you haven't, or wish to watch it yet another time. i can personally attest to the merits of multiple viewings. from tour groups to bubbly young children to artists to the snazzy venice film festival crowd, everyone continues to be affected by the mysticism of the cloud.
here's the updated media list for what has been touted as "the best pavilion":
14. http://rosapierno.blogspot.
happy reading!
xo steph teo
ps. a singaporean couple taking wedding shots just outside our pavilion. couldn't resist a creeper pic:
happy reading!
xo steph teo
ps. a singaporean couple taking wedding shots just outside our pavilion. couldn't resist a creeper pic:
Thursday 1 September 2011
my gesamtkunstwerk
It’s been a week and a day since I arrived, to fill in the shoes of past-intern (E-Lynn). I wake up to a bizarre mix of squawking pigeons and romantic Italian song. The twisty cobble stoned streets are lined with the standard pattern of: pizza and pasta restaurant, ‘is-it-actually-real’ murano glass shop, mask shop, gelato place. Every canal and bridge is home to duos of red stripped (emulating Waldo perhaps), Madeline-hat clad gondola men trying to lure me onto the plush velvet seats of their boat with “Ni Hao, Konnichiwa”…I have yet to be convinced. But there is nothing cookie cutter about this place, nothing ordinary about the opportunity of spending a month here. Venice feels like a giant gesamtkunstwerk: an all encompassing total work of art.
There have been all these moments I wish to remember. I suppose blogging is the most tangible form of doing so. Some highlights thus far:
Around a quarter to eight, we race up the stairs to the rooftop of our apartment, pop open yet another bottle of Bellini (to my great delight one of my beverages-of-choice is invented here) and pray it doesn’t fizz all over. The clouds change from milky white to a pinkish hue to a deep purple, as the baby blue sky is consumed by a murky sapphire hue. Venice is not a place known for nightlife, I appreciate this, for the streets are quiet. I never see any stars back home. Here, they shine, we mark out crosses, and I am duped into believing a flying plane is a shooting star. Silly me.
The daily consumption of copious amounts of pizza over girl talk and giggles from the same Her World article stereotyping Singaporean men as: the Smandex, the Foodie, the Lookster, the Tortist, etc… and waiting for the next episode of How I Met Your Mother to load.
It seems impossible to look at ALL the art that’s part of the Biennale. This frustrates me, as the national pavilions inside the Giardini are all impressive in their own right, some more so than others. Switzerland’s Crystal of Resistance by Thomas Hirschhorn is one of the most thought-provoking installations I have seen. It transports you, literally, to a whole new world. It seems nonsensical yet it is constructed with products we are all familiar with: cell phones, coke cans, q-tips, magazines… It’s like he took the principles of Arman to a whole new heyday, making it relevant for these complex times. A brilliantly loud political statement, almost ironic, coming from the Swiss pavilion.
The American pavilion is very American, courtesy of Allora and Calzadilla. Inside, there’s a huge organ linked with an ATM. Being too curious for my own good, I inserted my debit card into the ATM, and the organ started blasting music as the machine spit out my Euros. Outside, a complete showstopper: an obnoxiously thunderous tank with a man (wearing a USA tank top, of course) running on a treadmill. Everyone surrounds it taking photos and videos like paparazzi.*
Also, I have yet to see a single car. Unless I count the banged up BMW inside the Hungarian pavilion. It is isolated in a bare room, enveloped by blinding red light. Crash by Hajnal Nemeth is about how a singular moment can be slowed down in your memory, and the recollection of that one moment is stretched into an opera. Grandiose opera blasts from speakers all around the room, as I stare at the wrecked car. This, along with all these other assorted moments, are all part of the surreal experience of being here.
*Side note: the Venice Film Festival has begun. George Clooney and Jude Law are in town. Nat, Sze and I have gotten tickets to see two films tomorrow night at Lido Beach. Now, I finally understand why the theaters at Shaw are called Lido!
xo Steph Teo
There have been all these moments I wish to remember. I suppose blogging is the most tangible form of doing so. Some highlights thus far:
Around a quarter to eight, we race up the stairs to the rooftop of our apartment, pop open yet another bottle of Bellini (to my great delight one of my beverages-of-choice is invented here) and pray it doesn’t fizz all over. The clouds change from milky white to a pinkish hue to a deep purple, as the baby blue sky is consumed by a murky sapphire hue. Venice is not a place known for nightlife, I appreciate this, for the streets are quiet. I never see any stars back home. Here, they shine, we mark out crosses, and I am duped into believing a flying plane is a shooting star. Silly me.
The daily consumption of copious amounts of pizza over girl talk and giggles from the same Her World article stereotyping Singaporean men as: the Smandex, the Foodie, the Lookster, the Tortist, etc… and waiting for the next episode of How I Met Your Mother to load.
It seems impossible to look at ALL the art that’s part of the Biennale. This frustrates me, as the national pavilions inside the Giardini are all impressive in their own right, some more so than others. Switzerland’s Crystal of Resistance by Thomas Hirschhorn is one of the most thought-provoking installations I have seen. It transports you, literally, to a whole new world. It seems nonsensical yet it is constructed with products we are all familiar with: cell phones, coke cans, q-tips, magazines… It’s like he took the principles of Arman to a whole new heyday, making it relevant for these complex times. A brilliantly loud political statement, almost ironic, coming from the Swiss pavilion.
The American pavilion is very American, courtesy of Allora and Calzadilla. Inside, there’s a huge organ linked with an ATM. Being too curious for my own good, I inserted my debit card into the ATM, and the organ started blasting music as the machine spit out my Euros. Outside, a complete showstopper: an obnoxiously thunderous tank with a man (wearing a USA tank top, of course) running on a treadmill. Everyone surrounds it taking photos and videos like paparazzi.*
Also, I have yet to see a single car. Unless I count the banged up BMW inside the Hungarian pavilion. It is isolated in a bare room, enveloped by blinding red light. Crash by Hajnal Nemeth is about how a singular moment can be slowed down in your memory, and the recollection of that one moment is stretched into an opera. Grandiose opera blasts from speakers all around the room, as I stare at the wrecked car. This, along with all these other assorted moments, are all part of the surreal experience of being here.
*Side note: the Venice Film Festival has begun. George Clooney and Jude Law are in town. Nat, Sze and I have gotten tickets to see two films tomorrow night at Lido Beach. Now, I finally understand why the theaters at Shaw are called Lido!
xo Steph Teo
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