This is our last weekend in Florence. We finished the day today by touring the Alinari Archives, perhaps the most intense archive that I have ever been to. They have rooms where literally millions of photographs have been archived from all over Italy and Europe. Included in the archive are over 300,000 glass negatives that were taken by the Aliniari Brothers in the very same studios that we toured. They also work on photograph restoration and have begun a digital archive that is made of hundreds of thousands of photographs from every point in history.
We also got to see a Collotype machine which is a print making tool that works off of glass negatives that can be anything from photographs to etched reproductions of works of art. There are only two of these machines in the entire world and this one has never left the room it was in, from the time it was built over 100 years ago.
Walking through the archives was an amazing experience. We also continued to make our own prints today and I finally was able to get a Albumen print that I am happy with. I haven’t had the chance to begin to work with the negatives that I have taken here, but will get the chance next week. I will have to spend a good portion of one night down at the lab just printing new ortho negatives to get the prints made, but it will be worth it. I am quite excited to finally be creating art.
This weekend we actually have off and with our rail passes, we will get to travel. Saturday we will be taking the short train ride to Pisa and then Sunday we will take another trip to Venice. The train to Venice is quite a bit longer but, from everything I have been told, we can easily do Venice in an afternoon. So, long story short, too late, I’ll have lots of photos to post on Monday but none over the weekend.
Hope things are well with all of you and thanks for your comments.
Ciao,
Shaych
Friday, May 26, 2006
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
No day but today.
Pictures for this posting are in Gallery Eleven.
As the trip wears on, the tempers and relationships of the group seems to be wearing a bit thin at times. Perhaps we are just finally beyond the pleasantries that come from workings so closely with a new group of people and are to the point where we can really be ourselves and express how we truly feel. Or, perhaps we really are starting to get on each other’s nerves, either way the ice is getting thinner.
This morning we awoke to a wonderful rainstorm that had been washing the city for most of the night. For the first time in over a week I was getting my rain fix. It has only rained twice now since we have gotten to Europe. Once in Paris and now here. The weather as a whole has not been incredibly hot though anything above sixty degrees starts to get hot to me. The humidity has been great. I am one of the rare people who loves a humid environment, and my skin has been soaking up the moisture. I only wish we were closer to the coast so I could dip my feet into the ocean and reconnect with a large body of water, something my spiritual self craves. I have not seen the ocean, or any significant body of water, in over four years and I am having a difficult time of it.
Today we spent the entire day in class, with our theory class in the morning and studio in the afternoon. This is really the first whole day of classes that we have had. I know that tomorrow we are going to go on another walking tour (or two) so it was nice to just be in the classroom today. In fact, we even got to make some images using Print Out Paper, and if I can find a way to easily do it, I’ll post them here.
The theory class has mostly been addressing the Renaissance and how the changes that happened during the Renaissance changed the way we see the world and even how we all interact with it. The instructor has put forth the idea that the camera obscura model of vision (the whole way of seeing after the Renaissance) created “the gaze” and from that Imperialism. I won’t go into great detail (I’ll save that for the ten page paper I have to write when we get back to Denver) but I just don’t buy it.
Here is what I know: Prior to the Renaissance, there was very little to no realistic depiction in art. Figures were painted and sculpted with idealized expressions and with no realistic depiction of space and relation to each other. Often figures were larger in a painting not by proximity but by importance. The Medieval way of seeing didn’t really allow for the proper expression of perspective or the more realistic depiction of the figures in the works of art. Then during the Renaissance, things changed.
Many contribute the change to the use of the camera obscura (a type of “camera” that allowed artists to project images onto walls of a darkened room and gain a sense of three dimensional space represented in only two dimensions) and the ability to get incredible detail and hypothesize that artists of the time were more or less tracing their paintings from real images. There is a lot of debate on this issue but from what I have seen, I think that it is probably fairly accurate. The ultimate result of which, was a movement in art that featured realistic depictions of people, places and perspective that had never been seen before. In my opinion, this new way of seeing (the camera obscura model of vision) significantly advanced our struggle with differentiating real from imagined.
Previously, it would be very easy to distinguish between a painting and reality, the two looked totally different. However, after the Renaissance, those differences began to diminish. Later in the 1800s when the photographic process was finally developed, this separation became even less clear. Later still when motion picture was invented, people really had difficulty telling real from fake. When the Lumeiére brother’s film “Train Pulling Into a Station” first showed to audiences, they ducked thinking that they were going to be run over by the train pulling towards the camera. Each of these advances were met with similar reactions. Each movement towards reality further blurs the line between reality and imagination, fact and fiction.
I also understand how this creation of a inanimate object furthers the development of “the gaze.” The more we are able to look upon a representation of an object without it looking back, the more we are able to objectify it. We are so inundated with images of celebrities that we forget that they are in fact real people with lives like our own. Actors that play the same character for a significant amount of time on a television show are often confused with their characters, people forget that they are acting. We confuse reality with imagination all the time.
This blurred line is present in every aspect of our lives. The news seamlessly blends into advertisements for films and products that use the same marketing techniques to convince us of their importance. We move in and out of multi-media landscapes and rarely question their accuracy, or their social responsibility. The question the becomes, where does this all come from? Is it a natural attraction that humans have for the evolution of technology or, is it part of an organized effort to continue power over others? Is it nature or nurture?
It is difficult for us to imagine now the pre-Renaissance person viewed the world. It is almost impossible for me even in the cradle of modern western civilization to imagine a time without cars, television, cell phones and McDonalds. Yesterday, we walked through the Boboli Gardens behind the Pitti Palace and I began to understand how it might have been like, but I was still laden with cameras and digital equipment. I could no longer hear the sound of cars or the invasions of the twenty first century but I still wore the markers around my neck like a leash tying me to the outside world. At noon, a number of bell towers across the city began to ring and for a moment, that is all I could hear. When those ended, I was left with the sound of air and the birds, nothing more. I was alone, and surrounded by nothing but nature, and still, could not clear my mind of the outside world just waiting to get in.
We strolled through rose gardens that carried the scent of the blooms in the air. Through groves of trees that blocked most of the light from above, by fountains and natural arches that stretched across paths cut through the green. The gardens were not all perfectly manicured creations of man, some were allowed to grow and express their own sense of natural wonder. I sat for almost an hour and wrote, inspired by the gardens and the sights before me and realized that I had been having difficulty writing my stories because I hadn’t ever visited anything close to the places I wanted to invent, like the sights I was seeing before me. I had finally found my inspiration to write in the understanding that in order to write, one must do. I was able to write and take amazing photographs in perhaps the most pristine location in all of Florence. Here the bridge between the present and past was the thinnest it could be. And still, I knew that just beyond the walls of this paradise was the modern city, and could not be escaped.
Leaving the gardens and stepping back into the modern age, reminded me that I don’t live in the Renaissance world; that our lives are far different from those that planned the gardens now behind me and, try as I may, I can never live in or be a part of that world. So now I sit here before my computer and attempt to ponder the impact of paintings created five hundred years ago. I try to make assumptions on how those people viewed the world, a totally futile exercise. There are things we can know for sure, but most is just conjecture. The filter of time has done its job and what is left is only glimpses of what life was like. Writings, paintings and other works by those who thought they had the answers. Remnants of men who looked back even further in time to the ancients for their inspiration have survived and from them we try and put together history.
Is it reliable, presumably. However, imagine for a second, future historians who will one day look back onto our civilization and using what is left of our writings and histories they will attempt to make judgments on how we saw the world and how our actions brought bout the future consequences. What would we look like to them? Through our objects: photographs, films, literature, television, radio, newspapers and magazines, they would fix their gaze on us as we have fixed our gaze upon those who have come before us, and the cycle of objectification will continue in perpetuity.
As the trip wears on, the tempers and relationships of the group seems to be wearing a bit thin at times. Perhaps we are just finally beyond the pleasantries that come from workings so closely with a new group of people and are to the point where we can really be ourselves and express how we truly feel. Or, perhaps we really are starting to get on each other’s nerves, either way the ice is getting thinner.
This morning we awoke to a wonderful rainstorm that had been washing the city for most of the night. For the first time in over a week I was getting my rain fix. It has only rained twice now since we have gotten to Europe. Once in Paris and now here. The weather as a whole has not been incredibly hot though anything above sixty degrees starts to get hot to me. The humidity has been great. I am one of the rare people who loves a humid environment, and my skin has been soaking up the moisture. I only wish we were closer to the coast so I could dip my feet into the ocean and reconnect with a large body of water, something my spiritual self craves. I have not seen the ocean, or any significant body of water, in over four years and I am having a difficult time of it.
Today we spent the entire day in class, with our theory class in the morning and studio in the afternoon. This is really the first whole day of classes that we have had. I know that tomorrow we are going to go on another walking tour (or two) so it was nice to just be in the classroom today. In fact, we even got to make some images using Print Out Paper, and if I can find a way to easily do it, I’ll post them here.
The theory class has mostly been addressing the Renaissance and how the changes that happened during the Renaissance changed the way we see the world and even how we all interact with it. The instructor has put forth the idea that the camera obscura model of vision (the whole way of seeing after the Renaissance) created “the gaze” and from that Imperialism. I won’t go into great detail (I’ll save that for the ten page paper I have to write when we get back to Denver) but I just don’t buy it.
Here is what I know: Prior to the Renaissance, there was very little to no realistic depiction in art. Figures were painted and sculpted with idealized expressions and with no realistic depiction of space and relation to each other. Often figures were larger in a painting not by proximity but by importance. The Medieval way of seeing didn’t really allow for the proper expression of perspective or the more realistic depiction of the figures in the works of art. Then during the Renaissance, things changed.
Many contribute the change to the use of the camera obscura (a type of “camera” that allowed artists to project images onto walls of a darkened room and gain a sense of three dimensional space represented in only two dimensions) and the ability to get incredible detail and hypothesize that artists of the time were more or less tracing their paintings from real images. There is a lot of debate on this issue but from what I have seen, I think that it is probably fairly accurate. The ultimate result of which, was a movement in art that featured realistic depictions of people, places and perspective that had never been seen before. In my opinion, this new way of seeing (the camera obscura model of vision) significantly advanced our struggle with differentiating real from imagined.
Previously, it would be very easy to distinguish between a painting and reality, the two looked totally different. However, after the Renaissance, those differences began to diminish. Later in the 1800s when the photographic process was finally developed, this separation became even less clear. Later still when motion picture was invented, people really had difficulty telling real from fake. When the Lumeiére brother’s film “Train Pulling Into a Station” first showed to audiences, they ducked thinking that they were going to be run over by the train pulling towards the camera. Each of these advances were met with similar reactions. Each movement towards reality further blurs the line between reality and imagination, fact and fiction.
I also understand how this creation of a inanimate object furthers the development of “the gaze.” The more we are able to look upon a representation of an object without it looking back, the more we are able to objectify it. We are so inundated with images of celebrities that we forget that they are in fact real people with lives like our own. Actors that play the same character for a significant amount of time on a television show are often confused with their characters, people forget that they are acting. We confuse reality with imagination all the time.
This blurred line is present in every aspect of our lives. The news seamlessly blends into advertisements for films and products that use the same marketing techniques to convince us of their importance. We move in and out of multi-media landscapes and rarely question their accuracy, or their social responsibility. The question the becomes, where does this all come from? Is it a natural attraction that humans have for the evolution of technology or, is it part of an organized effort to continue power over others? Is it nature or nurture?
It is difficult for us to imagine now the pre-Renaissance person viewed the world. It is almost impossible for me even in the cradle of modern western civilization to imagine a time without cars, television, cell phones and McDonalds. Yesterday, we walked through the Boboli Gardens behind the Pitti Palace and I began to understand how it might have been like, but I was still laden with cameras and digital equipment. I could no longer hear the sound of cars or the invasions of the twenty first century but I still wore the markers around my neck like a leash tying me to the outside world. At noon, a number of bell towers across the city began to ring and for a moment, that is all I could hear. When those ended, I was left with the sound of air and the birds, nothing more. I was alone, and surrounded by nothing but nature, and still, could not clear my mind of the outside world just waiting to get in.
We strolled through rose gardens that carried the scent of the blooms in the air. Through groves of trees that blocked most of the light from above, by fountains and natural arches that stretched across paths cut through the green. The gardens were not all perfectly manicured creations of man, some were allowed to grow and express their own sense of natural wonder. I sat for almost an hour and wrote, inspired by the gardens and the sights before me and realized that I had been having difficulty writing my stories because I hadn’t ever visited anything close to the places I wanted to invent, like the sights I was seeing before me. I had finally found my inspiration to write in the understanding that in order to write, one must do. I was able to write and take amazing photographs in perhaps the most pristine location in all of Florence. Here the bridge between the present and past was the thinnest it could be. And still, I knew that just beyond the walls of this paradise was the modern city, and could not be escaped.
Leaving the gardens and stepping back into the modern age, reminded me that I don’t live in the Renaissance world; that our lives are far different from those that planned the gardens now behind me and, try as I may, I can never live in or be a part of that world. So now I sit here before my computer and attempt to ponder the impact of paintings created five hundred years ago. I try to make assumptions on how those people viewed the world, a totally futile exercise. There are things we can know for sure, but most is just conjecture. The filter of time has done its job and what is left is only glimpses of what life was like. Writings, paintings and other works by those who thought they had the answers. Remnants of men who looked back even further in time to the ancients for their inspiration have survived and from them we try and put together history.
Is it reliable, presumably. However, imagine for a second, future historians who will one day look back onto our civilization and using what is left of our writings and histories they will attempt to make judgments on how we saw the world and how our actions brought bout the future consequences. What would we look like to them? Through our objects: photographs, films, literature, television, radio, newspapers and magazines, they would fix their gaze on us as we have fixed our gaze upon those who have come before us, and the cycle of objectification will continue in perpetuity.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Postings and Pictures
Ok some new posts and pictures. There are actually three new posts so if you are interested in reading them in order, go to the bottom and start there. Thanks to those of you who are reading my blog and feel free to comment. You don't have to be a registered user.
Ciao,
Shaych
Ciao,
Shaych
Fisole
Right above Florence, there is a small Etruscan town of Fisole. It is only about a twenty minute bus ride from our apartment (probably thirty from central Florence) and is very much worth the trip. For one, it is a positive experience using the local bus system and working through buying tickets and such. Also, Fisole has perhaps the best views of Florence from its high vantage point.
The bus drops you off in the main center of town. From here, you can walk the winding mountain roads and get a view of both the Florence side and the other side of the valley and the rolling hills behind it. Also right off this main Piazza, is the entrance to the museums and ruins. Fisole is built on ancient Etruscan and Roman ruins and features the remains of a Roman amphitheater, baths and temples dating from both eras of history. Not much is left of the baths and temples, and it is difficult to imagine what they were like in their day but, the amphitheater is almost entirely intact. There are also two museums on site that show some of the artifacts that have been found in the area and gave some history of the town.
I think Val had a good birthday. We didn’t do much other than Fisole and we found our white whale of a bar. We have been looking for this nightclub since we arrived in Florence and we haven’t been able to find it. Finally last night we walked down the right “alley” and turned on the right “alley” off the alley and found it. When we did it fit the description very well. Because it is in the main part of town, right off the main Piazza, they wanted to hide it well and make it as nondescript as possible. Well, they succeeded, quite well actually. When we finally found it, the door is just two metal doors at the end of a trash filled street and all it says is: Tabasco, Gay Club. Just walking by I don’t think I would ever have thought to give it a second glance.
This week we should be finally getting to make some prints. The first week of class has focused mainly on museums and just getting situated. I hope that the last two weeks of the class is focused mostly on working with some fieldtrips thrown in for inspiration. We are getting to continue working with the large field cameras which is nice, I have taken what I hope are some good shots. While it is possible to immediately process the film, the negative is lost if you can’t soak it in a chemical formula that cleanses the negative of the polariod chemicals. We are getting to the exciting point, and I can’t wait ☺
Ciao,
Shaych
The bus drops you off in the main center of town. From here, you can walk the winding mountain roads and get a view of both the Florence side and the other side of the valley and the rolling hills behind it. Also right off this main Piazza, is the entrance to the museums and ruins. Fisole is built on ancient Etruscan and Roman ruins and features the remains of a Roman amphitheater, baths and temples dating from both eras of history. Not much is left of the baths and temples, and it is difficult to imagine what they were like in their day but, the amphitheater is almost entirely intact. There are also two museums on site that show some of the artifacts that have been found in the area and gave some history of the town.
I think Val had a good birthday. We didn’t do much other than Fisole and we found our white whale of a bar. We have been looking for this nightclub since we arrived in Florence and we haven’t been able to find it. Finally last night we walked down the right “alley” and turned on the right “alley” off the alley and found it. When we did it fit the description very well. Because it is in the main part of town, right off the main Piazza, they wanted to hide it well and make it as nondescript as possible. Well, they succeeded, quite well actually. When we finally found it, the door is just two metal doors at the end of a trash filled street and all it says is: Tabasco, Gay Club. Just walking by I don’t think I would ever have thought to give it a second glance.
This week we should be finally getting to make some prints. The first week of class has focused mainly on museums and just getting situated. I hope that the last two weeks of the class is focused mostly on working with some fieldtrips thrown in for inspiration. We are getting to continue working with the large field cameras which is nice, I have taken what I hope are some good shots. While it is possible to immediately process the film, the negative is lost if you can’t soak it in a chemical formula that cleanses the negative of the polariod chemicals. We are getting to the exciting point, and I can’t wait ☺
Ciao,
Shaych
Saturday
The class gathered on Saturday to go to two museums. One “La Specola” is the natural history museum, which had no direct impact on our trip (or so they thought); the other, the Pitti Palace, was museum of both “contemporary” and renaissance art. I put “contemporary” in quotes because the most modern pieced in the gallery was done over one hundred years ago.
La Specola was perhaps the most intriguing natural history museum I have ever been to. The museum presented animals in a way that I was not accustom to. The rooms were filled with glass cases that housed the animals. Often the stitches, evidence of taxidermy, were visible. The faces, sometimes worn with age, reminded me that this museum also predates most I have ever been to on this subject. A majority of the animals and bones dated from the early 1900s, some even older.
The last few rooms were full of wax sculptures representing the human body and organs. These were unlike the bodyworks display in that they are new creations, molded and colored from nothing and they dated back to the 1770s. It was an amazing feeling knowing that these figures have been studied for over 230 years. The museum was almost a museum within a museum with antiquities in furniture, specimen and history.
Perhaps it is because my purpose for being in this city is to study art, but the color, line and shape of the animals seem like works of art. Color, line, shape all come together to form the artistic elements of natural works of art. Animals can transcend function into beauty for the sake of beauty. The concept of the museum being in a way a work of art was further pushed even further with some of the rooms having elaborate painted ceilings of angels looking down on its visitors.
The second museum we visited, the Pitti Palace, was also a kind of museum that housed a museum. A former palace, one of the floors housed the apartment of the ruling monarch including a bedroom, bathroom, throne room and various other rooms of the private residence. Each room was filled from floor to ceiling with hanging works of art totaling in the dozens. I was able to see some really great works of art including:
Fra Filipo Lippi – Madonna con Gesú Bambino
Cigoli – Ecce Homo
Caravaggio – Amore Dormiente
Raffaelo – Madonna detta de Graduca, Ritrattio Del Cardinal Duvizi da Bibbiena and Ritratto di Donna
Cigolio – Santa Maria Maddalena
Pietro Benvenuti – Il Giuramento del Sassoni
and while I didn’t get the artist name, the Medusa that inspired Versace’s logo.
A lot of the greatness of the works were in how they were presented. The rooms each had their own color and feel with silk covered walls, furniture and ceilings that were each in their own way masterpiece works of art. Every detail was decorated in some way with a work of art.
Most ceilings had sculptures attached that would be symbolically holding up the sky and the painted frescos on each side as they met the four outer walls. Though the were sometimes twenty or more feet away, you could still see every detail over head, in facial expressions and the texture of the gilded plaster. The corners often featured more jovial figures holding the corners down or trying to climb them to reach the sky. The faces look down on those who pass, the faces of mythological figures, Gods and past rulers watch over those who walk below, the faces in three dimensions looking down upon their subjects reminding us that we all answer to a higher calling.
Here in Italy, I am surrounded by art and creation and I feel inspired. I don’t yet know how I can incorporate these new ideas or influences into my art, but the foundation is there. I am just a sponge soaking in everything around me. The curve of the stone arch over the windows with wooden shutters, some open some closed, and the variations in the texture of the terracotta buildings. The swirling languages around me and at this moment through the deeper connections with those around me, I can travel to any part of the world I desire.
I take photographs to try and capture everything I see, but there is no real chance of it. Instead, I wish I could just record my vision and sound as I experience it, narrated by thoughts and questions brought on by the new sensory inputs. Even then it wouldn’t be able to capture the emotional resonance of history and a place in the continuum of man. I imagine that for hundreds, sometimes thousands, of years man has stood in my exact spot and looked out at the sights I am seeing.
I often imagine what it would be like to travel back in time and see the buildings when they were new, fresh painted walls, oil paintings still drying in voluminous rooms of royalty and the wealthy patrons. I question what is better, seeing these buildings and the cities with the patina of age or as they were originally created. There is no answer but, I still would like to have seen the Duomo first built, a wonder of modern architecture.
As I continue to study and wander through streets filled with history, I will push myself to work on my own ideas and my works. I wanted to write but so far, I have been so overwhelmed by my location, I have found it difficult to focus and dedicate time to sitting at a table and writing. I am someone who is constantly writing in my head, and that is still where I am at the moment but, hopefully soon, that will translate to words on the page and time in the screen.
Ciao for now!
Shaych
La Specola was perhaps the most intriguing natural history museum I have ever been to. The museum presented animals in a way that I was not accustom to. The rooms were filled with glass cases that housed the animals. Often the stitches, evidence of taxidermy, were visible. The faces, sometimes worn with age, reminded me that this museum also predates most I have ever been to on this subject. A majority of the animals and bones dated from the early 1900s, some even older.
The last few rooms were full of wax sculptures representing the human body and organs. These were unlike the bodyworks display in that they are new creations, molded and colored from nothing and they dated back to the 1770s. It was an amazing feeling knowing that these figures have been studied for over 230 years. The museum was almost a museum within a museum with antiquities in furniture, specimen and history.
Perhaps it is because my purpose for being in this city is to study art, but the color, line and shape of the animals seem like works of art. Color, line, shape all come together to form the artistic elements of natural works of art. Animals can transcend function into beauty for the sake of beauty. The concept of the museum being in a way a work of art was further pushed even further with some of the rooms having elaborate painted ceilings of angels looking down on its visitors.
The second museum we visited, the Pitti Palace, was also a kind of museum that housed a museum. A former palace, one of the floors housed the apartment of the ruling monarch including a bedroom, bathroom, throne room and various other rooms of the private residence. Each room was filled from floor to ceiling with hanging works of art totaling in the dozens. I was able to see some really great works of art including:
Fra Filipo Lippi – Madonna con Gesú Bambino
Cigoli – Ecce Homo
Caravaggio – Amore Dormiente
Raffaelo – Madonna detta de Graduca, Ritrattio Del Cardinal Duvizi da Bibbiena and Ritratto di Donna
Cigolio – Santa Maria Maddalena
Pietro Benvenuti – Il Giuramento del Sassoni
and while I didn’t get the artist name, the Medusa that inspired Versace’s logo.
A lot of the greatness of the works were in how they were presented. The rooms each had their own color and feel with silk covered walls, furniture and ceilings that were each in their own way masterpiece works of art. Every detail was decorated in some way with a work of art.
Most ceilings had sculptures attached that would be symbolically holding up the sky and the painted frescos on each side as they met the four outer walls. Though the were sometimes twenty or more feet away, you could still see every detail over head, in facial expressions and the texture of the gilded plaster. The corners often featured more jovial figures holding the corners down or trying to climb them to reach the sky. The faces look down on those who pass, the faces of mythological figures, Gods and past rulers watch over those who walk below, the faces in three dimensions looking down upon their subjects reminding us that we all answer to a higher calling.
Here in Italy, I am surrounded by art and creation and I feel inspired. I don’t yet know how I can incorporate these new ideas or influences into my art, but the foundation is there. I am just a sponge soaking in everything around me. The curve of the stone arch over the windows with wooden shutters, some open some closed, and the variations in the texture of the terracotta buildings. The swirling languages around me and at this moment through the deeper connections with those around me, I can travel to any part of the world I desire.
I take photographs to try and capture everything I see, but there is no real chance of it. Instead, I wish I could just record my vision and sound as I experience it, narrated by thoughts and questions brought on by the new sensory inputs. Even then it wouldn’t be able to capture the emotional resonance of history and a place in the continuum of man. I imagine that for hundreds, sometimes thousands, of years man has stood in my exact spot and looked out at the sights I am seeing.
I often imagine what it would be like to travel back in time and see the buildings when they were new, fresh painted walls, oil paintings still drying in voluminous rooms of royalty and the wealthy patrons. I question what is better, seeing these buildings and the cities with the patina of age or as they were originally created. There is no answer but, I still would like to have seen the Duomo first built, a wonder of modern architecture.
As I continue to study and wander through streets filled with history, I will push myself to work on my own ideas and my works. I wanted to write but so far, I have been so overwhelmed by my location, I have found it difficult to focus and dedicate time to sitting at a table and writing. I am someone who is constantly writing in my head, and that is still where I am at the moment but, hopefully soon, that will translate to words on the page and time in the screen.
Ciao for now!
Shaych
They Call this School?
So, we have been in class for a little less than a week now and I can say that this part of the trip is going to go by much faster than I had anticipated. In Denver, the semesters seem to fly by moving from first day to finals in what seems like a quick nap. Here, things are moving at an even faster pace. We only have three weeks for class, an entire “semesters” worth of work crammed into three weeks, in Italy.
The campus is in a perfect location in central Florence, about a five minute walk from the Duomo and just a couple more to the Ponte Vecchio. While it is a bit of a walk from our apartment (about 15 min) it is still shorter than our walk from apartment to campus at home.
So far, I have been quite impressed with Italy. I don’t know that it is enough to make me want to move here but, not bad. We have found ourselves shopping every day at the supermarket within a block and a half of our apartment and have found the grocery items to be exceptionally well priced. We have been able to, on average, buy ingredients for dinner and a bottle of wine and stay at or below the €15,00 mark. The produce is fresh and, it is very nice to be able to select from a large assortment of incredibly good and inexpensive wines at the grocery store. We’ve had some great wines (both red and white) and I wish I could bring them all home with me, but alas customs.
Today we went on a field trip to San Gimignano and Siena, two Etruscan villages that still have their Medieval buildings and streets. Both towns were amazing however, San Gimignano was by far my favorite. Situated atop a hill, it offers unobstructed views of the Tuscan countryside. It is known for its soaring towers that used to number in the dozens but only fourteen now survive. The city is still enclosed in its walls and while cars are present, they are largely limited to the outer bands leaving the city center mostly without cars, but still full of tourists.
We were left to our own devices to roam the city and take our time exploring. We ended up in this great Medieval “park” surrounded by walls and that part of the city felt largely unaltered from its origin. It was nice to get to be in an area where there was grass and trees. In central Florence, there is little grass and very few trees and the only real trees we have come across have been in or around a few city parks so it was nice to get to see some green. From the top of the lookout tower, you could see the valleys below and the view was amazing.
After a few hours in San Gimignano, we got back on our tourist movers and headed to Siena another city with Etruscan roots that flourished during the Medieval period. The bus drops us off just outside of the giant fortified walls of the city but unlike San Gimignano, the walls of Siena seemed to be mostly lost and what is left is open access to the city. This part of our journey was to be led by a tour guide, a local woman who has a love for her city of birth, and was a great guide. At first I was a little hesitant about taking a guided tour of the city but since we only had a couple of hours, I ended up appreciating having someone to guide me through. We were able to hit most of the important sites and even had time in the end for a nice gelato before getting back on the bus.
The highlights of Siena included more soaring towers, narrow streets and one very important religious artifact, if you can call it that. Saint Catherine was a native of Siena so when she died, her head and thumb were returned to the city and are there for the open viewing in a Basilica bearing her name. Unfortunately, but understandably, we were not able to take photos inside the Basilica, but I was able to get some pictures outside of it. We were also able to see her more private home and the subsequent convent that was built for her order. I don’t have any particular religious feelings for her but, she was an amazing woman who performed real world miracles. It was also interesting to learn that she was inflicted with the stigmata, an interesting addition to her life story.
Also in Siena, we got to visit the Piazza del Campo, which hosts a crazy horse race every year where the horses run around the edge of the Piazza that is filled with spectators who watch from inside the center. Siena also has a Duomo but it was covered in scaffolding and featured a gigantic digital image of the façade as the real one is being renovated. However, right in front of the Duomo is the hospital that up to the 1980s was actually used as a hospital, which is really difficult to believe. Inside to the right there is a chapel that would rival the interior of any major cathedral and the main room of the hospital’s ceiling is covered in Medieval frescos. I couldn’t imagine being treated for an illness in such a beautiful building. I looked at the building and thought back to Denver General and needless to say, no comparison.
Other than fun tours, the class has begun working on our actual processes. I learned now to use a 4X5 field camera with a Polaroid back that produces an instant print and a useable negative. I have always wanted to use a camera like this and it is quite an accomplishment for me to finally have done so. We have also begun our Anthotype photographs which allow us to make an image using only berries, paper and a transparent positive image. The exposure will take our entire time in Florence and in the end, we may not even have anything to show for our work.
We are also in the middle of preparing the Albumen solution, which involves egg whites and a few other chemicals that will coat the paper and produce an image. Fortunately, this process is well proven and is in use by many artists today.
I also learned the history of photography and realized how important it is to the history of motion picture. In our history class, we have been discussing the importance of photography and it changing the way people see, particularly the renaissance use of the camera obscura. It is truly fascinating to learn now being able to see perspective represented in a two dimensional surface changed the way that people saw the real world with their own eyes. It is almost impossible for us to think in the same way that the Medieval world did, not understanding how the human eye works and having only seen sculpture and painting as art forms. They would be blown away with the technologies and tools we have today with photography (digital especially) and motion picture.
So from here it is more school and more field trips, more excitement. Unfortunately we lost the wireless internet connection at home so we can’t update the website and our blogs from home and we will have to begin bringing our computers down to campus to do so. Since we aren’t always on the campus and it is kind of a pain to lug my laptop everywhere, I will probably only be updating a couple of times a week, hopefully more often but, maybe not. I’ll always post here when there is a new photo gallery or video like now!
Ciao,
Shaych
The campus is in a perfect location in central Florence, about a five minute walk from the Duomo and just a couple more to the Ponte Vecchio. While it is a bit of a walk from our apartment (about 15 min) it is still shorter than our walk from apartment to campus at home.
So far, I have been quite impressed with Italy. I don’t know that it is enough to make me want to move here but, not bad. We have found ourselves shopping every day at the supermarket within a block and a half of our apartment and have found the grocery items to be exceptionally well priced. We have been able to, on average, buy ingredients for dinner and a bottle of wine and stay at or below the €15,00 mark. The produce is fresh and, it is very nice to be able to select from a large assortment of incredibly good and inexpensive wines at the grocery store. We’ve had some great wines (both red and white) and I wish I could bring them all home with me, but alas customs.
Today we went on a field trip to San Gimignano and Siena, two Etruscan villages that still have their Medieval buildings and streets. Both towns were amazing however, San Gimignano was by far my favorite. Situated atop a hill, it offers unobstructed views of the Tuscan countryside. It is known for its soaring towers that used to number in the dozens but only fourteen now survive. The city is still enclosed in its walls and while cars are present, they are largely limited to the outer bands leaving the city center mostly without cars, but still full of tourists.
We were left to our own devices to roam the city and take our time exploring. We ended up in this great Medieval “park” surrounded by walls and that part of the city felt largely unaltered from its origin. It was nice to get to be in an area where there was grass and trees. In central Florence, there is little grass and very few trees and the only real trees we have come across have been in or around a few city parks so it was nice to get to see some green. From the top of the lookout tower, you could see the valleys below and the view was amazing.
After a few hours in San Gimignano, we got back on our tourist movers and headed to Siena another city with Etruscan roots that flourished during the Medieval period. The bus drops us off just outside of the giant fortified walls of the city but unlike San Gimignano, the walls of Siena seemed to be mostly lost and what is left is open access to the city. This part of our journey was to be led by a tour guide, a local woman who has a love for her city of birth, and was a great guide. At first I was a little hesitant about taking a guided tour of the city but since we only had a couple of hours, I ended up appreciating having someone to guide me through. We were able to hit most of the important sites and even had time in the end for a nice gelato before getting back on the bus.
The highlights of Siena included more soaring towers, narrow streets and one very important religious artifact, if you can call it that. Saint Catherine was a native of Siena so when she died, her head and thumb were returned to the city and are there for the open viewing in a Basilica bearing her name. Unfortunately, but understandably, we were not able to take photos inside the Basilica, but I was able to get some pictures outside of it. We were also able to see her more private home and the subsequent convent that was built for her order. I don’t have any particular religious feelings for her but, she was an amazing woman who performed real world miracles. It was also interesting to learn that she was inflicted with the stigmata, an interesting addition to her life story.
Also in Siena, we got to visit the Piazza del Campo, which hosts a crazy horse race every year where the horses run around the edge of the Piazza that is filled with spectators who watch from inside the center. Siena also has a Duomo but it was covered in scaffolding and featured a gigantic digital image of the façade as the real one is being renovated. However, right in front of the Duomo is the hospital that up to the 1980s was actually used as a hospital, which is really difficult to believe. Inside to the right there is a chapel that would rival the interior of any major cathedral and the main room of the hospital’s ceiling is covered in Medieval frescos. I couldn’t imagine being treated for an illness in such a beautiful building. I looked at the building and thought back to Denver General and needless to say, no comparison.
Other than fun tours, the class has begun working on our actual processes. I learned now to use a 4X5 field camera with a Polaroid back that produces an instant print and a useable negative. I have always wanted to use a camera like this and it is quite an accomplishment for me to finally have done so. We have also begun our Anthotype photographs which allow us to make an image using only berries, paper and a transparent positive image. The exposure will take our entire time in Florence and in the end, we may not even have anything to show for our work.
We are also in the middle of preparing the Albumen solution, which involves egg whites and a few other chemicals that will coat the paper and produce an image. Fortunately, this process is well proven and is in use by many artists today.
I also learned the history of photography and realized how important it is to the history of motion picture. In our history class, we have been discussing the importance of photography and it changing the way people see, particularly the renaissance use of the camera obscura. It is truly fascinating to learn now being able to see perspective represented in a two dimensional surface changed the way that people saw the real world with their own eyes. It is almost impossible for us to think in the same way that the Medieval world did, not understanding how the human eye works and having only seen sculpture and painting as art forms. They would be blown away with the technologies and tools we have today with photography (digital especially) and motion picture.
So from here it is more school and more field trips, more excitement. Unfortunately we lost the wireless internet connection at home so we can’t update the website and our blogs from home and we will have to begin bringing our computers down to campus to do so. Since we aren’t always on the campus and it is kind of a pain to lug my laptop everywhere, I will probably only be updating a couple of times a week, hopefully more often but, maybe not. I’ll always post here when there is a new photo gallery or video like now!
Ciao,
Shaych
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Firenze, Day One
We checked in with our school and got our apartment today. We schlepped our luggage all the way up to our apartment which, even though they aren’t on the same map, wasn’t all that far. We are on the “first piano” which is actually what we could be considered the second floor; though with fifteen foot ceilings and ten foot doors, it is more like three.
After getting into our apartment we went to a neighborhood market and bought some groceries thinking it would be good to have a cooked meal. Walking the store the language barrier really came out and we were mostly just going by pictures on a lot of things; though I was totally able to pick-up a six pack of Pelligrino for €2,30 which is about $.50 a piece. Considering it is bottled not more than 10k from here, I am not that surprised but damn… Florence is looking up.
The small market is totally awesome, full of fresh produce and great meats. We were able to navigate it fairly well and observing Italians who know what the hell they are doing, we didn’t make any cultural faux pas, at least none that I am aware of. It really is like having to learn everything all over again, and not in a bad way. We learned that when you pick out produce, you have to use a disposable plastic glove and price it yourself. They have these cool scales with pictures on it where you put your produce down and push the picture that corresponds with what you want and bam a barcode comes out so you know exactly how much your produce is going to be and they can just scan it at the register.
Also, Italian grocery clerks seated, Local 141 take note, and you do all your own bagging. Also available are a full assortments of wines, beers and various alcohols. I have noticed though that there are not nearly as many alcohols as there are in the states. Beer and wine are everywhere but hard alcohol isn’t. The store sells a lot of wine and most are less than €4,00 or about $5.00. Kinda cool.
Today also felt a lot better being able to get out of the mega tourist are of central Florence. Our apartment is about a fifteen minute walk from the main part of the city and already we are in the land of the people who actually live here. So far, Florence is also quite a bit quieter than Paris and the drivers are far different. I would have thought here in the land of Vespa, there would be way more scooters on the road but there are less than in Paris, which in some way make sense.
The school seems to have great facilities and while we can’t get a wireless internet connection, the school has net ports for us to plug into so we can update our blogs and WebPages without having to do a complicated dance with our iPods.
Speaking of which, we both have new photo galleries and I have posted some of the videos I have taken since arriving…. check them out.
Well, time to go to bed, class in the morning!
Ciao.
After getting into our apartment we went to a neighborhood market and bought some groceries thinking it would be good to have a cooked meal. Walking the store the language barrier really came out and we were mostly just going by pictures on a lot of things; though I was totally able to pick-up a six pack of Pelligrino for €2,30 which is about $.50 a piece. Considering it is bottled not more than 10k from here, I am not that surprised but damn… Florence is looking up.
The small market is totally awesome, full of fresh produce and great meats. We were able to navigate it fairly well and observing Italians who know what the hell they are doing, we didn’t make any cultural faux pas, at least none that I am aware of. It really is like having to learn everything all over again, and not in a bad way. We learned that when you pick out produce, you have to use a disposable plastic glove and price it yourself. They have these cool scales with pictures on it where you put your produce down and push the picture that corresponds with what you want and bam a barcode comes out so you know exactly how much your produce is going to be and they can just scan it at the register.
Also, Italian grocery clerks seated, Local 141 take note, and you do all your own bagging. Also available are a full assortments of wines, beers and various alcohols. I have noticed though that there are not nearly as many alcohols as there are in the states. Beer and wine are everywhere but hard alcohol isn’t. The store sells a lot of wine and most are less than €4,00 or about $5.00. Kinda cool.
Today also felt a lot better being able to get out of the mega tourist are of central Florence. Our apartment is about a fifteen minute walk from the main part of the city and already we are in the land of the people who actually live here. So far, Florence is also quite a bit quieter than Paris and the drivers are far different. I would have thought here in the land of Vespa, there would be way more scooters on the road but there are less than in Paris, which in some way make sense.
The school seems to have great facilities and while we can’t get a wireless internet connection, the school has net ports for us to plug into so we can update our blogs and WebPages without having to do a complicated dance with our iPods.
Speaking of which, we both have new photo galleries and I have posted some of the videos I have taken since arriving…. check them out.
Well, time to go to bed, class in the morning!
Ciao.
Day Five Paris – Firenze
Another day of travel. Our morning began very early when the alarm clock went off at 5:30 to get us up and ready for the early morning train. We have gotten used to navigating the city and the Metro from the couple of times we have ridden it, so it wasn’t that much of a challenge to go across central Paris to our train station.
The path of the train ran us out of Paris and through the Alps, which are totally amazing. I can’t wait to come back and spend more time the small villages. We entered Italy via a tunnel that I believe goes under Mont Blanc and emerged just above the Winter Olympic Village above Torino.
I was quite nervous from the time we passed the Torino games gate until we finally pulled into the Torino station as I had been put in charge of a lovely older woman who didn’t speak French or Italian so I had to make sure she got off the train at the right stop. The station and the main village are a good distance from the mountains so I had been quite nervous about her somehow having missed the station. I started thinking about how we were going to help her find her way back to Torino from Milano. In my mind, I was ready to sacrifice one of my Eurali pass days to get her back. Of course in the end she made it to the correct station and off to waiting family.
As we crossed the border, the Italian police began to make their way through the train checking for passports, etc. For the first time I felt on the wrong side of a language barrier. I know very little Italian with no formal education in the language facts that were made all too obvious when they came through and I was hoping that they might speak French.
Upon arrival in Firenze, we set out to find our hostel. We had hoped to arrive the following day on the night train but, there were no seats available. So, we had to take the day train and it caused us to arrive into Firenze a day early. From first impression, Firenze seems nice but incredibly American. We encountered more people speaking English in the time between the train station, hostel and restaurant for dinner than we did the entire time in Paris. I don’t know if it is because the tourist season hasn’t really begun in Paris or if it has something to do with the idiotic French boycotts, but I was really surprised.
Not only that, we really tried to avoid the tourist parts of Paris and live with and like the Parisians. Our Paris hotel was fortunately in a very local part of town and we were able to avoid most tourists even though we were right near a train station. Here in Florence, the main tourist area is right by the train station and few visitors probably leave the area of the center of town with the Duomo, central market and like 98% of the Hotels. As we sat having dinner, there were street performances going on and the performers would come in asking for money. It was kind of nice but the whole thing had a Disneyland does Florence feel to it.
I am sometimes conflicted as a traveler. I want to see all the things that a city is known for but I want to do it as a “local” would do it. While it is fascinating to come to foreign cities and look at them as an attraction, I think it is even better to realize that people actually live in the cities. There are real people living their lives around those of us who are just guests in their city, in their homes. That is also what really frustrates me about tourists, including myself, who travel to a country with no working knowledge of the language. Each time we interacted with an Italian, I wanted to begin by apologizing for my very broken Italian and promise to learn more and study my phrase book. I don’t want to be the type of tourist that expects the world to bend to my ways and my home culture.
This is also the reason that will not go to a McDonalds or any other American restaurant chain while traveling in Europe. I hate to get on a soapbox, but I refuse to contribute to the idea that all the world should be the same. The few times we have gone to a market I have tried my best to not buy brands that I know. I try the local brand, which I know is often nothing more than a façade for an American name brand, and try something new. I want to travel for the differences not similarities. It has been sad to see, particularly here in Florence, the lack of differences.
The Europe I remember visiting as a child was totally different than the Europe I find myself in today. My last visit took me to Hungary a nation behind the Iron Curtain of communism. I remember to this day crossing the giant fence and the guard towers as we crossed the border into Hungary. I know that this is the Europe of the past but things were different there, not just like a ride in Disneyland. I know I am preaching to the choir, or at least I hope I am, but if you take vacations with big package tours, do the best you can to escape and see the places you visit for what they are, and try to experience them as the people who live there do.
That is all for today, Ciao.
The path of the train ran us out of Paris and through the Alps, which are totally amazing. I can’t wait to come back and spend more time the small villages. We entered Italy via a tunnel that I believe goes under Mont Blanc and emerged just above the Winter Olympic Village above Torino.
I was quite nervous from the time we passed the Torino games gate until we finally pulled into the Torino station as I had been put in charge of a lovely older woman who didn’t speak French or Italian so I had to make sure she got off the train at the right stop. The station and the main village are a good distance from the mountains so I had been quite nervous about her somehow having missed the station. I started thinking about how we were going to help her find her way back to Torino from Milano. In my mind, I was ready to sacrifice one of my Eurali pass days to get her back. Of course in the end she made it to the correct station and off to waiting family.
As we crossed the border, the Italian police began to make their way through the train checking for passports, etc. For the first time I felt on the wrong side of a language barrier. I know very little Italian with no formal education in the language facts that were made all too obvious when they came through and I was hoping that they might speak French.
Upon arrival in Firenze, we set out to find our hostel. We had hoped to arrive the following day on the night train but, there were no seats available. So, we had to take the day train and it caused us to arrive into Firenze a day early. From first impression, Firenze seems nice but incredibly American. We encountered more people speaking English in the time between the train station, hostel and restaurant for dinner than we did the entire time in Paris. I don’t know if it is because the tourist season hasn’t really begun in Paris or if it has something to do with the idiotic French boycotts, but I was really surprised.
Not only that, we really tried to avoid the tourist parts of Paris and live with and like the Parisians. Our Paris hotel was fortunately in a very local part of town and we were able to avoid most tourists even though we were right near a train station. Here in Florence, the main tourist area is right by the train station and few visitors probably leave the area of the center of town with the Duomo, central market and like 98% of the Hotels. As we sat having dinner, there were street performances going on and the performers would come in asking for money. It was kind of nice but the whole thing had a Disneyland does Florence feel to it.
I am sometimes conflicted as a traveler. I want to see all the things that a city is known for but I want to do it as a “local” would do it. While it is fascinating to come to foreign cities and look at them as an attraction, I think it is even better to realize that people actually live in the cities. There are real people living their lives around those of us who are just guests in their city, in their homes. That is also what really frustrates me about tourists, including myself, who travel to a country with no working knowledge of the language. Each time we interacted with an Italian, I wanted to begin by apologizing for my very broken Italian and promise to learn more and study my phrase book. I don’t want to be the type of tourist that expects the world to bend to my ways and my home culture.
This is also the reason that will not go to a McDonalds or any other American restaurant chain while traveling in Europe. I hate to get on a soapbox, but I refuse to contribute to the idea that all the world should be the same. The few times we have gone to a market I have tried my best to not buy brands that I know. I try the local brand, which I know is often nothing more than a façade for an American name brand, and try something new. I want to travel for the differences not similarities. It has been sad to see, particularly here in Florence, the lack of differences.
The Europe I remember visiting as a child was totally different than the Europe I find myself in today. My last visit took me to Hungary a nation behind the Iron Curtain of communism. I remember to this day crossing the giant fence and the guard towers as we crossed the border into Hungary. I know that this is the Europe of the past but things were different there, not just like a ride in Disneyland. I know I am preaching to the choir, or at least I hope I am, but if you take vacations with big package tours, do the best you can to escape and see the places you visit for what they are, and try to experience them as the people who live there do.
That is all for today, Ciao.
Paris, Day Four
Tonight is our last night in Paris, at least for now. As long as our Eurostar tickets will allow, we will coming back to Paris and cutting our London stay short by a few days. We have both fallen in love with Paris and her people.
I have seen the city through the lens of so many filmmakers, learned her language since Junior High and still nothing could prepare me for the beauty of Paris. As we sit at a café having our last meal (yet first real meal) and watch as Gay Paris goes by, I realize that there were a lot of things about Paris (and life) that I thought I new but in fact, don’t.
“I met myself in Paris.”
I have so much to learn about who I want to be, or better yet who am I now? Today, we went to Le Centre Pompidou and I got to see my first Warhol, Mann Ray film, Cindy Sherman, Matisse and Barnet Newman. These artists all worked in various forms of art most including film. They understood the power of the motion picture and the still image and how to work with each of these art forms. Sometimes working with a narrative but not always.
These artists are an inspiration to my in my quest to communicate, be it in one frame or twenty-four frames a second. We walked through a new exhibit by Godard, about life and art and the combination of the two. It was amazing to walk through a new work of art by a man that I feel is a true genius, one of the principal players in my favorite film movement of all time.
I have unfortunately not been able to meet up with the mother of the French nouvelle vague Agnes Varda, but I hope to get to see her installation piece when we return. I had hoped to be inspired on this trip to create and try to bring about some sort of creative metamorphosis and I feel like it is going to be a possibility.
I have seen the city through the lens of so many filmmakers, learned her language since Junior High and still nothing could prepare me for the beauty of Paris. As we sit at a café having our last meal (yet first real meal) and watch as Gay Paris goes by, I realize that there were a lot of things about Paris (and life) that I thought I new but in fact, don’t.
“I met myself in Paris.”
I have so much to learn about who I want to be, or better yet who am I now? Today, we went to Le Centre Pompidou and I got to see my first Warhol, Mann Ray film, Cindy Sherman, Matisse and Barnet Newman. These artists all worked in various forms of art most including film. They understood the power of the motion picture and the still image and how to work with each of these art forms. Sometimes working with a narrative but not always.
These artists are an inspiration to my in my quest to communicate, be it in one frame or twenty-four frames a second. We walked through a new exhibit by Godard, about life and art and the combination of the two. It was amazing to walk through a new work of art by a man that I feel is a true genius, one of the principal players in my favorite film movement of all time.
I have unfortunately not been able to meet up with the mother of the French nouvelle vague Agnes Varda, but I hope to get to see her installation piece when we return. I had hoped to be inspired on this trip to create and try to bring about some sort of creative metamorphosis and I feel like it is going to be a possibility.
Monday, May 15, 2006
More To Come
For the past couple of days we have been in transit from Paris to Florence, and have been without internet. We are finally at the school so I will be able to begin posting regularly again, soon.
Lots of love!
Lots of love!
Friday, May 12, 2006
Days Two and Three
Day Two and Three, Paris
As of this moment, I never want to leave Paris. I have been waiting all my life to come here and now that I have made it, I don’t want to leave. There must be some form of study / employment that I can do to keep me here.
Today we are hoping to make it to the Louvre but we were out very late last night (in bed at about 5:00) so we slept a little late and that may change our plans. But so far, we have seen Basilique de Sacre Coeur, Montmartre, Sorbonne, Parthenon, Notre Dame, La Seine, Le Centre Pompidou and the half an our walk from our hotel to central Paris at sunrise. I have studied and obsessed over this city for so long that to finally get to see these monuments, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed. There is so much to do and we have so little time in this trip, I plan on coming back again, and soon.
As a city Paris is very noisy (I love it) and I think driving in Paris is kind of like Hinduism: either you are born into it or you will never fully understand it. The way cars, mopeds, motorcycles and pedestrians interact with each other on the streets is fascinating. They all seem to know what is going on but to the uneducated eye, it all looks like total chaos. Our hotel is modest but has a great view (in gallery) and I have already spent some good time sitting in front of the window watching Paris go by.
I am also intrigued by the café’s and how all the chairs face out to the street. The larger cafés have rows and rows of small tables facing out into the street as seats to the city’s theatre. So far, my language skills have been ok. I am trying to use as much of my French as possible but I have been incredibly nervous. I have been dealing not only with language issues but just learning how the whole system works. All a challenge but, fun.
The first photo gallery is finally up and includes pictures from our travels and the first day in Paris. I’ll be getting more up as soon as I can.
Ok time to get out of the room and get some coffee. Missing all of you but not Denver, move here. Its better.
As of this moment, I never want to leave Paris. I have been waiting all my life to come here and now that I have made it, I don’t want to leave. There must be some form of study / employment that I can do to keep me here.
Today we are hoping to make it to the Louvre but we were out very late last night (in bed at about 5:00) so we slept a little late and that may change our plans. But so far, we have seen Basilique de Sacre Coeur, Montmartre, Sorbonne, Parthenon, Notre Dame, La Seine, Le Centre Pompidou and the half an our walk from our hotel to central Paris at sunrise. I have studied and obsessed over this city for so long that to finally get to see these monuments, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed. There is so much to do and we have so little time in this trip, I plan on coming back again, and soon.
As a city Paris is very noisy (I love it) and I think driving in Paris is kind of like Hinduism: either you are born into it or you will never fully understand it. The way cars, mopeds, motorcycles and pedestrians interact with each other on the streets is fascinating. They all seem to know what is going on but to the uneducated eye, it all looks like total chaos. Our hotel is modest but has a great view (in gallery) and I have already spent some good time sitting in front of the window watching Paris go by.
I am also intrigued by the café’s and how all the chairs face out to the street. The larger cafés have rows and rows of small tables facing out into the street as seats to the city’s theatre. So far, my language skills have been ok. I am trying to use as much of my French as possible but I have been incredibly nervous. I have been dealing not only with language issues but just learning how the whole system works. All a challenge but, fun.
The first photo gallery is finally up and includes pictures from our travels and the first day in Paris. I’ll be getting more up as soon as I can.
Ok time to get out of the room and get some coffee. Missing all of you but not Denver, move here. Its better.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Day One, Part One
4:00 AM – Time for a little sleep, very little.
7:00 AM – Up and at it. Still some last minute packing to do and the flights to prepare for. Natasha and Josh will be here in three hours to take us to the airport (thanks again guys) and we have to be ready. Things still to do: clean bathroom, kitty box, feed cat, finish packing day packs and make sure we aren’t forgetting anything too important.
9:00 AM – Remembering that we only have one iPod to share, we decide to make sure that we have all the music we need. Justyn prepares a new list of 1100 songs that should fill up the rest of the iPod and all is set to go. Just have to wait for the files to load…. and load…. and load…. damn should have used the fire wire.
10:00 AM – Natasha and Josh arrive in their white chariot and we are ready to go. Goodbye house, goodbye cat and hello Europe.
10:45 AM – Check-in at counter. Our large suitcase is 10lbs overweight, we probably packed too much, so we have to move some things around to get it all to weight. After we move things around it occurs to me that we should have paced differently in the first place. We should have used the small bag for clothes enough for the first part of the trip and saved the large suitcase for the longer part. Make mental note for third part of trip. We finally hand our luggage off to the counter person and we head for the gate. Next step security.
If I had to pick my least favorite part of traveling by air, it would have to be the security check. I know that they are only doing their jobs and that there are laws to follow but, do they really have to be that damn uppity. Because we are traveling for the purposes of photography we have a significant amount of light sensitive materials with us. Most of these are quite sensitive and would not survive the X-Ray that they put checked luggage through so we have to carry them on. Besides if our bags end up hand searched and they open the boxes / bags of photosensitive materials they are a total loss. So, it seemed easier to just carry it with us and deal with it at security.
Fortunately we were leaving on an early afternoon flight on a weekday so there was not a lot of traffic through the security check and that meant no long lines. As we approach the x-ray machines I ask if I can have one of my bags hand searched so I wouldn’t have to put some of the things through x-ray. I was pretty sure (and Justyn assured me) that the solar plates would be fine in the x-ray but I have never traveled with orthographic film before and had no idea what effect it would have and I would rather be safe than really sorry.
I handed the hand check only items to the TSA agent and he took them away. When he returned, he told me that if they could not open them, I would have to send it through the x-ray or, I couldn’t take it on the plane with me, period. I tried my best to explain that the materials were light sensitive blah, blah, blah, blah and the result, he couldn’t care less. So I ended up putting them through the x-ray, along with my boots, and everything else we were carrying. Unfortunately, I won’t know until the last week of Florence if they are safe.
Once beyond the “you can take a machete on a plane but not a tripod security”, we were off to our concourse. For those who have not had the pleasure of flying out of Denver International Airport, a bit of advice: whatever you want, you’ll find it on Concourse A. I don’t care if you are flying out of Concourse C, if there is something you want or need before getting on your flight stop at Concourse A, take care of it and then proceed to your destination. In fact, you can actually bypass the long cattle heard of a security line and walk to Concourse A and go through security there it will save you a trip (one possible exception, but more on that later).
We unfortunately missed our opportunity to shop duty free since our ticket is from Denver to Chicago where we change planes to London. I tried to convince the woman that we have very little time in Chicago and that we wouldn’t tell anyone if she just let us do a small bit of shopping, but she wouldn’t have it. When logic didn’t work I thought about appealing to her emotion: “Look, I am traveling with an angry ex-gutterpunk who is about to get on a plane for a really long time. Just let me buy the damn cigarettes. No one needs to know. Please, for the sake of our relationship, sell us the Camels.”
Turned away from the duty free woman, who was really quite nice, we set out to find an iron lung which is about the only thing that Concourse B is really good for. So, back we went on the train to Concourse B where Justyn had is last cigarette before the flight and if we don’t have enough time in Chicago, his last ever. With a one drink minimum, the smoker’s lounge is possibly the most interesting room in the whole building.
I remember years ago I used to work for a company that had a room on the top floor that all the smokers could go to. I worked in a call center, which meant that one out of every three employees smoked, and they all used this room. The ceiling tiles were long turned from white and had taken on the rough color that Pepsi has around an ice cube. The vents that brought air into (and presumably out of) the room were caramelized with smoke and the walls matched with square spots of lighter tones where art used to hang. The whole room was something out of a horror film and I could just feel cancer on the walls growing in the Petri dish. The smoker’s lounge reminded me of a slightly cleaner version of that room.
So after we both had a cigarette, he smoked I just breathed, it was finally off to our gate and ready to board.
12:30 – Our flight is late, which given that we (and our luggage) only have 45 minutes to make it from gate to gate in Chicago is a problem. I foresee us never returning to the windy city again.
12:45 – Two minutes before our flight was supposed to take off, we are finally leaving the gate. Now begins the process that I hate. As a child I used to love the sensation of a plane taking flight. The pressure forcing me back into my seat, the roar of the engine, the rush of the air as it glides gently over the wings and body lifting us into the air. Sometimes I would crave the sensation, months away from taking flight and would just lie face up in a field of grass trying my best to use gravity to recreate the sensation, but without success. I can’t tell you precisely when or how I began to dread takeoffs and landings but the cravings of childhood are now far behind me. I particularly hate taking off from DIA and flying East. I don’t like the way the plane always rocks and rolls with the slight sensation of dropping in my stomach. I have tried so many things to get overcome this borderline fear of flying and the thing I have found works the best is a strong hand to hold with my eyes closed and a chanting a mantra.
Once happily in the air, I am usually fine unless the turbulence lasts too long, then I start to get tense and it is back to the happy place. So, that is where I find myself. Somewhere over the Midwest, six miles above the Earth held up by moving air and the hope of every passenger onboard.
16:00 Chicago
We managed to arrive into Chicago on time and make our connection. We even had a chance to drop by the duty free shop so Justyn could get his smokes. All told we were in Chicago for an hour and when the plane managed to taxi and actually leave the ground I breathed a sigh of relief. We haven’t had the best track record traveling through Chicago so, any trip where we mange to successfully leave, is a good thing.
As the plane began it’s trip down the runway, I realized that perhaps it isn’t taking off that bothers me, it is taking off on a small plane. Being on the larger plane definitely helped and when the ride turned rough, I felt a lot better knowing that there was more machine working to keep me in the air.
Other than a few rough patches the flight was uneventful. I didn’t get much sleep, which I had hoped would pass the time and allow me to refresh a bit before the final part of our journey to Paris still, the flight went well.
More to come…. and all from day one.
7:00 AM – Up and at it. Still some last minute packing to do and the flights to prepare for. Natasha and Josh will be here in three hours to take us to the airport (thanks again guys) and we have to be ready. Things still to do: clean bathroom, kitty box, feed cat, finish packing day packs and make sure we aren’t forgetting anything too important.
9:00 AM – Remembering that we only have one iPod to share, we decide to make sure that we have all the music we need. Justyn prepares a new list of 1100 songs that should fill up the rest of the iPod and all is set to go. Just have to wait for the files to load…. and load…. and load…. damn should have used the fire wire.
10:00 AM – Natasha and Josh arrive in their white chariot and we are ready to go. Goodbye house, goodbye cat and hello Europe.
10:45 AM – Check-in at counter. Our large suitcase is 10lbs overweight, we probably packed too much, so we have to move some things around to get it all to weight. After we move things around it occurs to me that we should have paced differently in the first place. We should have used the small bag for clothes enough for the first part of the trip and saved the large suitcase for the longer part. Make mental note for third part of trip. We finally hand our luggage off to the counter person and we head for the gate. Next step security.
If I had to pick my least favorite part of traveling by air, it would have to be the security check. I know that they are only doing their jobs and that there are laws to follow but, do they really have to be that damn uppity. Because we are traveling for the purposes of photography we have a significant amount of light sensitive materials with us. Most of these are quite sensitive and would not survive the X-Ray that they put checked luggage through so we have to carry them on. Besides if our bags end up hand searched and they open the boxes / bags of photosensitive materials they are a total loss. So, it seemed easier to just carry it with us and deal with it at security.
Fortunately we were leaving on an early afternoon flight on a weekday so there was not a lot of traffic through the security check and that meant no long lines. As we approach the x-ray machines I ask if I can have one of my bags hand searched so I wouldn’t have to put some of the things through x-ray. I was pretty sure (and Justyn assured me) that the solar plates would be fine in the x-ray but I have never traveled with orthographic film before and had no idea what effect it would have and I would rather be safe than really sorry.
I handed the hand check only items to the TSA agent and he took them away. When he returned, he told me that if they could not open them, I would have to send it through the x-ray or, I couldn’t take it on the plane with me, period. I tried my best to explain that the materials were light sensitive blah, blah, blah, blah and the result, he couldn’t care less. So I ended up putting them through the x-ray, along with my boots, and everything else we were carrying. Unfortunately, I won’t know until the last week of Florence if they are safe.
Once beyond the “you can take a machete on a plane but not a tripod security”, we were off to our concourse. For those who have not had the pleasure of flying out of Denver International Airport, a bit of advice: whatever you want, you’ll find it on Concourse A. I don’t care if you are flying out of Concourse C, if there is something you want or need before getting on your flight stop at Concourse A, take care of it and then proceed to your destination. In fact, you can actually bypass the long cattle heard of a security line and walk to Concourse A and go through security there it will save you a trip (one possible exception, but more on that later).
We unfortunately missed our opportunity to shop duty free since our ticket is from Denver to Chicago where we change planes to London. I tried to convince the woman that we have very little time in Chicago and that we wouldn’t tell anyone if she just let us do a small bit of shopping, but she wouldn’t have it. When logic didn’t work I thought about appealing to her emotion: “Look, I am traveling with an angry ex-gutterpunk who is about to get on a plane for a really long time. Just let me buy the damn cigarettes. No one needs to know. Please, for the sake of our relationship, sell us the Camels.”
Turned away from the duty free woman, who was really quite nice, we set out to find an iron lung which is about the only thing that Concourse B is really good for. So, back we went on the train to Concourse B where Justyn had is last cigarette before the flight and if we don’t have enough time in Chicago, his last ever. With a one drink minimum, the smoker’s lounge is possibly the most interesting room in the whole building.
I remember years ago I used to work for a company that had a room on the top floor that all the smokers could go to. I worked in a call center, which meant that one out of every three employees smoked, and they all used this room. The ceiling tiles were long turned from white and had taken on the rough color that Pepsi has around an ice cube. The vents that brought air into (and presumably out of) the room were caramelized with smoke and the walls matched with square spots of lighter tones where art used to hang. The whole room was something out of a horror film and I could just feel cancer on the walls growing in the Petri dish. The smoker’s lounge reminded me of a slightly cleaner version of that room.
So after we both had a cigarette, he smoked I just breathed, it was finally off to our gate and ready to board.
12:30 – Our flight is late, which given that we (and our luggage) only have 45 minutes to make it from gate to gate in Chicago is a problem. I foresee us never returning to the windy city again.
12:45 – Two minutes before our flight was supposed to take off, we are finally leaving the gate. Now begins the process that I hate. As a child I used to love the sensation of a plane taking flight. The pressure forcing me back into my seat, the roar of the engine, the rush of the air as it glides gently over the wings and body lifting us into the air. Sometimes I would crave the sensation, months away from taking flight and would just lie face up in a field of grass trying my best to use gravity to recreate the sensation, but without success. I can’t tell you precisely when or how I began to dread takeoffs and landings but the cravings of childhood are now far behind me. I particularly hate taking off from DIA and flying East. I don’t like the way the plane always rocks and rolls with the slight sensation of dropping in my stomach. I have tried so many things to get overcome this borderline fear of flying and the thing I have found works the best is a strong hand to hold with my eyes closed and a chanting a mantra.
Once happily in the air, I am usually fine unless the turbulence lasts too long, then I start to get tense and it is back to the happy place. So, that is where I find myself. Somewhere over the Midwest, six miles above the Earth held up by moving air and the hope of every passenger onboard.
16:00 Chicago
We managed to arrive into Chicago on time and make our connection. We even had a chance to drop by the duty free shop so Justyn could get his smokes. All told we were in Chicago for an hour and when the plane managed to taxi and actually leave the ground I breathed a sigh of relief. We haven’t had the best track record traveling through Chicago so, any trip where we mange to successfully leave, is a good thing.
As the plane began it’s trip down the runway, I realized that perhaps it isn’t taking off that bothers me, it is taking off on a small plane. Being on the larger plane definitely helped and when the ride turned rough, I felt a lot better knowing that there was more machine working to keep me in the air.
Other than a few rough patches the flight was uneventful. I didn’t get much sleep, which I had hoped would pass the time and allow me to refresh a bit before the final part of our journey to Paris still, the flight went well.
More to come…. and all from day one.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
The Wheel Moves On
Tonight marked my last night as a projectionist for the Starz FilmCenter. My decision to leave ultimately rested on my desire to start the next chapter of my life and, was probably brought on in some small way by my impending birthday. I realized that it was time that I (forgive the expression) shit or get off the pot and really put forth an effort to be an artist. The work I was doing while it was very exciting and in line with my ultimate goals, was in fact too close to my ultimate dream and was a distraction.
I realized that I am the type of person who will only move or challenge myself when I am not in a place of comfort; as long as I have enough money or my soul isn't totally aching, I can continue to do what I am doing and never push myself beyond.
I will miss my friends and the family that I have been a part of for years now and I hope that this isn't totally good-bye. I'll still be around but instead of hiding in the booth, I'll be in the back of the theatre, right side watching the films I used to run and some day soon, presenting my own.
I realized that I am the type of person who will only move or challenge myself when I am not in a place of comfort; as long as I have enough money or my soul isn't totally aching, I can continue to do what I am doing and never push myself beyond.
I will miss my friends and the family that I have been a part of for years now and I hope that this isn't totally good-bye. I'll still be around but instead of hiding in the booth, I'll be in the back of the theatre, right side watching the films I used to run and some day soon, presenting my own.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
One Week and Counting
It is really hard to believe that one week from today we'll be in Europe. I have waited for so long to take this trip that it is really hard to wrap my mind around the idea that it is actually happening.
By the way.. anyone have any packing tips?
By the way.. anyone have any packing tips?
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