Architecture, painting, food and glorious light and water

We have made it to the last three architectural biennales here in Venezia. The national pavilions are filled with weird, abstract and intellectual art and constructions. Ira, of course, is in heaven. I wander through, looking for interesting stuff to take pictures of. Occasionally, I run across something that I can understand, too! There was a marvelous display on Song dynasty architecture regulations. It was a period of expansion, and the authorities wanted to standardize construction to minimize corruption. There were different sets of possibilities based on your rank. Apparently, the text produced went untranslated for so many years, that when Chinese scholars found a copy in the 20th century, they had great difficulty deciphering the characters. How do the characters 'open heart' and 'closed heart' relate  to roof bracketing?

As we were making our way to another church, we  walked along the Riva dei Schiavoni. It's just down from St. Marks, so it's usually a place we avoid. It was jam packed, but we ducked into the Santa Maria Della Pieta there, and all was calm. It's a church that was also used as a music venue because of its curved walls and upper side vault to hold the musicians. No live music when we were there, but they piped in Vivaldi as we stared at the glorious Tiepolo ceiling. No one else was there, so it wasparticularly  memorable what with all the crush just outside.

Our destination was another church, San Zaccariah, and its wonderful Bellini altar painting. I'd seen pictures but never the real thing. We sat twice in front of it for long stretches. The church itself has a marvelous Renaissance marble front. Beside it is the old church, and we went in there to look at a magnificent golden altar and the medieval crypts below. It was particularly Venetian as the crypts were flooded!

Next it was time for lunch. Our guide, Helene, had pointed out a place the day before, and we managed to find it! Always a success in Venice. In this case, an amazing triumph, because Covino is a tiny place that serves some of the best food in town. It can seat a maximum of 16, and the tiny kitchen is right there. We got to watch them make our incredible food, and they were casual and welcoming. After the meal, they passed around an old tin of Mama's cookies. That was the vibe,

I started with homemade pro secco, made by the waiter's father. It was almost frothy it was so strong!

My before was sardines, butterflied and lightly fried on a bed of cress, watermelon, pearl onions and yellow peppers. Never have I tasted melon like that, concentrated and dense. Ira had the bacala mantecata on white barley. He prefer it creamier, but I liked it rough presentation.

Ira followed that up with aglio, olio di mare spaghetti, a simple dish that used his favorite squid ink. I devoured an amazing panzanella with slices of tender rabbit. The waiter chose wines to accompany each dish, and they were perfect.

 I should have rolled into bed after such a large meal... But instead, we got on a vaporetto  to go to the Giudecca. When the public bus takes you past San Marco and San Giorgio Maggiore, you know you're in the world's most beautiful city. Our destination was Tres Oci, a curious house with three oddly shaped windows (hence the name, three eyes). It's been repurposed into a photography display space, and we saw an exhibit of Lewis Hines' work, mostly about the late 20th century immigrants in the lower East Side. The main exhibit was on the preparations that Venezia had made for WWI bombings by the Austro-Hungarian forces. Most everything was sandbagged and wrapped and buttressed and taken down. The main loss, besides the 82 dead and hundreds injured, was a magnificent ceiling fresco by Tiepolo. They had an early black and white picture of it. Some of the pictures were wonderful, with the sand bags providing a repeating element. Others were notable for what was going in, such as removing the ceiling painting from a Scuole.

We had a quick nap at home, then back down to the Arsenale for a large supper. Yes, we're going to come home fatter. This was at our favorite restaurant, Al Covo. We go only every two years, but Diane, theTexan co-owner, remembered us and greeted us warmly. We got a wonderful spot outside and impeccable service.

Ira had squash blossoms delicately fried and filled with the lightest ricotta you can imagine. I don't know how they make a fried dish so light. The waiter did say they change the oil every night, but there's a lot of magic in the process, as well. My before was the best eggplant Parmesan I've ever had. The waiter confessed that Sicilian eggplants are better, but their preparation is the best! I had an amazing valpolicella to accompany it.

For the main dish, I had their fritto misto. Again with the lightness. And the squid was so tender! Across Italy, the squid has been magnificent, I don't think it comes in that texture in the States. Ira had the Vitelli tonnato, just for comparison. I think in his heart, he thought his was better, but he exclaimed over this to the waiter. (I don't even order certain dishes in Italy because Ira's are perfect, particularly his console veraci.)

For dessert, I had Venetian fried cream with pistachios. Wow! It was just perfect. Ira had another slice of chocolate cake. Diane makes a lot of the desserts while her husband Cesare, a tall and handsome guy from the Lido, supervises the cooking. A perfect cafe, and then we were ready for a magical trip home. Venice is truly a place where getting there is half the fun!

Private tour through Castello and San Marco

OK, we didn't tour the whole of these two sestiere, but it seemed like it! We took the vaporetto to the Arsenale where we met our guide, Helene. She showed us around two years ago and proved to be charming and knowledgeable and a lot of fun. When you have a Venetian guide, you see how small the city is, only a bit more than 55,000 inhabitants, because she seems to know everyone.

While waiting for her, Ira and I visited the naval museum. It was jut a quick dip in, we'll visit more if it tomorrow. We saw an incredible personal submarine from WWII that attaches to a submarine. Two people in scuba gear then ride it into enemy waters. We saw tons if cannon and guns, and even an automated gun firing system that took into account speed, direction, waves and relative position of the enemy.

Our first stop was the entryway to the Arsenale, a wonderful Venetian concoction of styles and statues. The Arsenale is famous for building ships. In the 14th century they could turn out a ship a dy using an assembly line process.

San Martino, a church in the shape if a Greek cross, was our first sacred visit. It's most famous for its organ and sacristy ceiling painting. Throughout our tour, a student was practicing the organ, so its tones resinated with us throughout. We had special permission to enter the sacristy, which was a working one as evidenced by the clothing laid out on chairs and tables. The ceiling fresco was done by Baroque painter Antonio Zanchi. It's heavily damaged, with seams running through it, but the colors were still vibrant and the composition very fresh.

Next up was San Giovanni Batista in Bragora, which had an amazing painting by Cima de Coneglione, the baptism of Christ. Its colors were lively. The putti floating above were kind of silly, but the respective poses of Jesus and John were breathtaking. They seemed to be performing an elegant dance rather than a rite. Vivaldi was baptized in this church, and there were flowers laid out by fans next to the font.

We stopped at a nearby pasticceria for coffee. It was a lively, local place, with plastic chairs and no atmosphere except that brought by excited, chattering Venetians.

Our final visit was to the Palazzo Sandi, which houses a magnificent Tiepolo ceiling in what is now a conference room. It must be one of the best conference rooms in the world. Along with the ceiling fresco, there's a frieze in grisailles by Nicolo Bambini. Even the modern furniture is terrific, with a huge glass table by Scarpa and sleek chairs. It seated about 40, so it must make for an impressive gathering. We'd been there two years ago, but both of us wanted to see it again.

Dinner was special tonight at Antiche Carampane. I started with grilled shrimp and figs, with salad and purple grapes. The tastes all melded together gloriously. Ira had a simple salad of tomatoes and mozzarella. For the main meal, I had the best St. Pierre ever, with mushrooms. I'm not sure what it's called in American, but it's John Dory in English. Ira had the fritto misto, but I ate most of it. 

We had a lovely walk back to the vaporetto, and now to bed.

Clutch drive to Venezia

Not much to post today, for reasons that will become clear, but here is the wonderful sunrise at Antibes as we drove to the airport.

Once there, they told us our flight was cancelled. Gee, thanks Air France. And our flight to Paris probably won't happen because there's have a strike scheduled. So, they suggested we fly to Paris and then to Venice. We politely told them to go fuck themselves and rented  a car from Europcar. For less than there cost of last night's meal, we got a Ford Focus.

Of course, it was a manual drive, and I haven't driven stick in years, but having stalled it a few times and swore many oaths, I got the hang of it again. We drove six hours from Nice to Venice and checked  into our hotel in fine fettle. OK, I was tired but we are in Venice!

Our Hotel American Dinesen is on a lovely canal near the Accademia. It was great to pull up to the place in a water taxi. Our room has a canal view and a tiny balcony. We are well placed here on the Dorsoduro.

After a relaxing time in bed, we went out to dinner at Oniga, which was suggested by our hotel host. It was marvelous. I started with gnocchi and mozzarella di buffala and tomatoes. The gnocchi was tender and delicate. Ira started with sardines in saor (onions, raisins and pine nuts). Ira shared several forkfuls and it was perfect. I continued with veal liver and polenta, a tad overcooked but tasty.  (Ira's are the best!) Ira had spaghetti with squid ink, a real crowd pleaser.

Venice is just lovely. We walked down a random canal before dinner and everything was beautiful. The passagatta was in full swing, the light was dim and lovely and the city continually delights the eye. We're going to have fun here!

Eileen Gray's broken-down roof

Our goal today was to see what we could of E1027, the house the designer Eileen Gray built with her lover in Roquebrune, which is just past Monaco. We couldn't get in because it's being retired, but it looks like they don't have much money to do so,be see on the tiny bit we could see. Next time, we'll rent a yacht.

The drive there was incredible. We passed by La Turbie and Ira remembered there's an important Roman monument, les Trophees des Alpes. We drove by it and saw it perched on the hillside but were unable to park close enough to walk up to it. It made for an impressive show, even from a distance.

The road we took over the mountains was thrilling, with cliff towering on one side, the blue blue sea fr below on the other. Every curve promised another marvel. These curves also promised another truck barreling along. I couldn't believe this was a tracing route, and when we got closer to ton it became even more insane. Both Ira, I and the car managed to survive the trip unscathed. We found a spot to r for E1027 and walked along a gorgeous path. It's a popular route to a remote beach, and we passed a lot of people toting towels and umbrellas.

We really couldn't see much of anything except a tarp-covered roof but it was fun to have made the effort. There's also a Le Corbusier house next door, but that we couldn't see at all. They're both in runs, but hopefully will be restored some time in the future. Looking back at Monaco, it was clear what a monster that country has become, nothing but high rises.

We continued along the coast and stopped for lunch in Menton. There was a lovely beach and a row of outdoor dining spots belonging to hotels across the roads we watched people swim in there sea, sun on the rocks, and generally enjoy the fine weather. We enjoys it with oyster, wine and some fish. I had prawns again, this time in a thick tomato sauce. They're so tender and flavorful here. Ira hadanother terrific paella, though I helped with all of the  mussels.

There's a Cocteau museum in Menton, so we visited it in a lovely old fort on the sea. The drawing wer ll sketches for the mural he did for the municipal wedding chapel. He has such a facility with art. Everything he touched was light and fun and wonderful.

After that it was just  a host trip back on the autoroute. Now we're resting and planning to go out with friends in the evening. I'll root back on the meal.

Cocteau on the Cote

After spending time in Cocteau's home town of Milly la Foret, we were eager to see more of his work here on the Côte d'Azur. Ira, of course, had found a relatively obscure place to visit, Santo Sospir, a villa owned by Francine Weisweiller. It's open by application for small, guided tours. So, armed with a reservation, we drove up the coast to Cap Ferrat. Such a lovely drive, we hugged the shore as closely as we could, stopping to marvel at the bay that enriches Ville Franches.

Cap Ferrat was equally lovely, filled with rock pines and grand houses, mostly secrets behind walls. We found our own particular hidden-away villa and rang the door bell. Our guide, Erich, was an amiable, cute and bearish guy. He was charming and eloquent in two languages for the French couple and us. Alas, he didn't speak Japanese for the third couple, but they understood English. It was terrific to hear the stories in two languages, because there would often be small details that differed. The French version, of course, was the best as it was his native tongue.

Cocteau was a particular friend of Francine, and had his own room. They even shared a boyfriend! Cocteau painted the walls with wonderful, casual murals, mostly in tempera. The themes were mostly strong women killing men: Judith and Holofernes, Diana and Acteon.... fun stories. I didn't take any pictures inside. It seemed weird since Francine's daughter still lives there occasionally. If you're a Cocteau fan, and why wouldn't you be?, then seek out the pictures on the Web. 

Erich was charming, the murals terrific, and even the furniture was a blast. Leopard print carpet, horns turned into fishes, 19th-century Balinese furniture. It was interior design by an eccentric leading light, Madeleine Castaing. It was pure pleasure, and the views from the villa were terrific. You could see Nice laid out along the distant shore. Apparently, there's not much good swimming because jellyfish have invaded. According to Erich, he doesn't swim anymore because the pollution has killed all of the sea turtles, which were the main predator of the jellyfish. I didn't encounter any off the Hotel du Cap, but maybe they don't come to the higher rent districts.

We drove down to the town to eat and ended up at a touristy place along the waterfront with views of the cliffs in the background and boat and yachts in the foreground. Absolutely lovely. Ira and I split a seafood paella and it was terrifically rich. I have a feeling there's lots of paella in our future.

We made it a short day because the skies were clouding over. It rained on the drive back. By the time we made it to our hotel, it was sunny again and we sat out at the pool.

Time for a light dinner!

Picasso and the Hotel du Cap

We got in the car first thing and drove up the coast to Antibes where we had found a modern parking garage for our Picasso adventure. I hate to rave about parking, but this was a high-tech looking garage with blue runway lights and enough room to maneuver!

It was market day so Ira had to stop. He bought some groseilles for our lunch host, then some saffron and figs. Oh, and some spice for making paella. I have a feeling we're going to be having a lot if it in the future. Our friends our opening up a paella place in SF soon, but I'm getting ahead if myself.

Our next stop was the Picasso Museum newly--and to some, tragically--redone with clean stone walls and an open look. I hadn't seen it in its previous incarnation, so can't judge. The siting, right off the sea, is magnificent. As you wander around, your eyes is drawn to the blue of the Mediterranean. Looking out, windows frame a perfect view.

The art was equally incredible. I'm not sure if the pictures changes a lot, but these were works that Picasso did in 1946 when he was resident in the building. He was experimenting with using industrial paints, and the works had a muted tone as a result, and strong graphic lines etched into thick paint. I was unfamiliar with most of the specific works, but they all resonated with me. There was a carelessly sketched goat that fantastically bridged realism and abstraction. An abstraction that was colored like ripe olives. A painting entitled Joie de Vivre, which is perhaps the silliest thing he ever painted. Great time, though the museum was a bit too crowded. Occasionally, we had to wait for a tour group to make its way through one of the smaller rooms.

The terrace outside was simply magnificent, with sculpture, sun, stone and sea all contributing to tae your breath away.

It was now time for lunch, and boy, was it an event! Friends invited us to their cabana at the Hotel du Cap. I turns out paradise has it own version if he the luxury box, and we were in it. Before lunch, some if us went for a swim in the sea. It was about 75 or 80 degrees, relatively mild. I swam out to a sunning platform about 100 yards away and perched there for a bit, watching passing fishing boats and yachts.

Lunch was served at the cabana. I had the octopus salad, and it was tender and wonderful. We all had melon for our second and it was tender and ripe. A good rose helped the conversation and there were lot of little delicacies... a perfect tranche of cheese, some divine mashed potatoes, a salads nicoise that as too big for one person and had to be shared.

After lunch, we all retreated to our lounges and napped or read. I slept a bit and tanned and watched people in the yacht moored in the bay below. Next up, it was time for the pool, with an infinity ledge that overlooked the sea. By now, the sea had darkened in the afternoon, and the contrast between the light blue pool water was striking.

All in all, one of those perfect ways to spend a lazy afternoon. Thanks much to generous friends!

Back to Juan Les Pins to regroup, then out for dinner at Le Vesuvio, which a friend had recommended as fun. It was! We sat and ate delicious Italian food while watching people walk by, ranging from elderly French ladies still trying to be chic to slobs in baggy shorts and t-shirts. Every kind of car drove by as well, convertible Bentleys and VW buses. Even an RV navigated through the narrow street.

Ira ordered off menu just to get a plate of tomatoes. I started with warm goat's cheese salad. Mine was  wonderful, with a strong vinaigrette and creamy cheese. Next up, Ira tried his best with a truly enormous fritto misto, while I ate up every bit of my grilled prawns. They really are delicious here!

We both finished the meal with ice cream and staggered home well content. There were a lot of oeooke playing boules, at least six different groups, including some older women. I noticed that here was was a club house set back in the park. It is incredible to see skilled players at it, sometimes trying for the mark and other times trying to knock someone else's boule from its near position. Lots of fun on a warm night!

Fondation Maeght

I'd never heard of these particular collectors, but Aime and Marguerite Maeght amassed an impressive collection of modern art that included Bonnard, Miro and Braque. They housed them all in a charming building by Jose Lluis Sert, which was a collaboration between the Maeghts, the architect and the artists whose works it would house,

The drive up was beautiful because of the rocky cliffs and formation on view. We first drive to Vence. I like such a lovely town that we decided to park. End of the charm. The municipal parking lot was underground and just too damn small for me to get the car in and around. So, we decided on a driving tour of the center of the city!

Just before the foundation, there was a restaurant with a terrace that overlooked the valley. Plus, it had parking! Book it, dine. It was roadside cafe quality with a relaxed staff and "southern" hospitality. I had a spinach salad with artichoke hearts and cheese. It was good but enormous. Ira had the melon and Parma ham combo, which contained what appeared to be an entire melon. Somehow, over the course if a leisurely Sumer lunch, we consumed that and shared a pizza. My good rose wine helped no doubt.

The foundation was a delight. Almost at every turn I was excited by either the architecture, the sculpture or the art. Even the patrons were fun. Two French guys chatted with me because they had seen me at the Villa Nouailles yesterday. We're apparently on the same tour of modernism!

We drove home full of excitement and proceeded to take a long nap, then strolled around Juan Les Pins. Crowded with shops, many of them beachy and tacky, there are so many people in cafés and bars and restaurants. We chose one that was in the shade. Our waitress tried to read my tattoo while she took our order. I had whiskey and Ira ice cream as usual!

 We had asked our hotel to make us reservations at a promising seaside place, Cap Riviera. The food was marvelous and our dining companions and we enjoyed the sun setting over the bay.

They gave us a mousse of beet for the amuse, and it was so sweet and perfect. Ira was eating lightly so he didn't have a starter, but my warm octopus salad was a creamy marvel, with capers! Ira joined me in hue he eating department with a verrine of crab and grapefruit, like a seafood parfait. I had the spaghetti with lobster. I've been eating such rich food I'll get gout skin. The lobster was flavorful and plenteous, almost every forkful of pasta came with a morsel of delicious lobster meat.

We washed it down with a bottle of rose wine, Chateau Sainte Roseline.

Dessert was pineapples with coconut ice cream for me. Ira had three boules of ice cream, chocolate, coffee and lemon. It was good, he said, but not the equal of the place in Carnac, which is the Tour de Glacé leader.

Luckily, the hotel is close as we rolled our way slowly home. We watched les jouers de boules (or pétanque, as I'm not sure which nomenclature they use here). Earlier in the evening, it was old men with stately throws. Later on, younger men took their place in the square and they all crouched in their delivery. A function of age or fashion, I wonder.