Beyond the mystical landscape, Island of San Francesco del Deserto, Venice.

A row of tall cypresses encircles the island of San Francesco del Deserto in Venice, a dark green wall that seems to emerge from the water of the northern lagoon to shelter the island from strong winds and erosive tides, but, above all, to protect its silence. Life here is pervaded by silence, a silence broken only by the sounds of nature and by the prayers of a small community of Franciscan monks, the only inhabitants of the island from the 13th century. Saint Francis stopped here on his return trip from the East in 1220, and, for a few weeks, peace and a multitude of swallows were his only companions. Over the years, the atmosphere of the island has not changed much, but, in the last months, the private boats that connect San Francesco del Deserto to the nearby island of Burano have been busier than usual transporting visitors and materials for the exhibition Oltre il Paesaggio mistico, 'Beyond the Mystical Landscape.' The event, conceived by the Association ARTLIFE for the World curated by Simonetta Gorreri, and promoted, among other institutions, by the MiBAC, the Italian Ministry for Cultural Heritage Activities, was part of the initiatives connected with the 55th International Art Exhibition, the Venice Art Biennale 2013. From June 1 to August 20, the exhibition 'Beyond the mystical landscape' involved 11 artists who explored and interpreted the past and present life of this special island. Their installations of land and water art were arranged along a path that unfolded from the inner part of the monastery, through the park, to the lagoon, from inside to outside, from stones and earth to water.

O beata solitudo! O sola beatitudo!, Nicoletta Freti

On a plexiglas plate, the reversed image of the medieval cloister captured the spirit of the place in Nicoletta Freti’s installation. Looking through the Fresnel lens, arches, columns and the blue sky framed by the old walls of the courtyard appeared overturned, as the whole town of Venice reflected in the water of the lagoon, as the words in the double inscription above the entrance door of the church, and title of the artwork, O beata solitudo! O sola beatitudo! 'Oh happy solitude! Sole beatitude!' Words to exalt solitude and silence to achieve spiritual peace, and to invite to look at the world from different perspectives.



Tra Terra Cielo e Acqua, Julia Artico

Against a compact hedge of pink hydrangeas, under the dappled shade of an old pine, on a trimmed lawn, the flock of geese created by the Friulian artist Julia Artico shifted the attention to the natural world. In her installation Tra Terra Cielo ed Acqua, ‘Among earth sky and water’, the goose was the unifying symbol of the three elements, as this is the only bird that can live in all these different habitats. Five geese made in hay and wood to remind the delicate balance among sky, earth and water in the lagoon environment, and to think about the special relationship between Saint Francis and the animals, a relationship that involved all the natural world. 

Altare della Natura Sonoro, Stefano Passerotti

In a nearby expanse, sheltered by the omnipresent cypresses, the orange sphere of the sun, laid on a wooden structure wrapped by climbing plants, invited to cosmic reflections lulled by the rhythmic song of crickets, recorded on the island.  

The water was not far. Going up the gentle slope, the lagoon appeared: the coloured houses of Burano and the crooked bell tower, the water dotted with briccole, mooring posts, and little boats. On the barene, fragile mudflats that emerge from the low tide, the spectacular blooming of Limonium narbonense created a soft violet mist among the wild little herbs able to survive in this unique habitat.

Ulisse non c'è, Maria Luisa Sponga

Trasvolare, Lorella Salvagni

The sea is part of this world, defines the outlines of the island, preserves old stories, and gives life. The sea is the epic travel of Ulysses, evoked by the textile artist Maria Luisa Sponga with an empty raft chased by mermaids and fluttering embroidered sails, a travel of learning and discovery, difficult and uncertain, sometimes beautiful. The travel of life, the journey that awaits every human being, the white wing resting on a barena in Trasvolare, Lorella Salvagni. The sea is food and hard work for the local fishermen, whose gigantic fishing bells swayed in the lagoon tied to 3 meter high steel stems, Barbara Toffano Quando la marea sussurra, ‘When the tide whispers.’ The sea is the future of the surreal gigantic green claws emerging from the water, a new form of life made in blown glass, Maria Grazia Rosin Morbide macchine carnivore, 'Soft  carnivorous machines.'

Reflecting Web of the Anthropocene, Pam Longobardi

The path left the coast and turned inwards. There was a sparkling web tangled on the branches of a group of olive trees. On light threads, bottoms of water bottles, glass crystals and mirrors reflected the silver leaves of the trees as if they were water. Pam Longobardi conceived 'Reflecting Web of the Anthropocene' to draw the attention to the ruinous effects that plastic bottles, and all the rubbish that we superficially throw away have on the environment, and in particular on the sea.

Against the oldest part of the monastery, Attraverso il tempo, 'Through time,' by Livio Seguso, put together man, nature and the island with glass discs that crossed an old wood pole recovered from a local roof. The Venetian tradition of glassmaking was testified by the handmade glass discs, whose transparent smooth and satin surfaces fragmented the opaque light in thousands of reflections. The old bricks, the sky and the trees, the entire surrounding world was reflected in the glass, in a perfect balance of structures and hues. The friars kindly moved the pots of geranium a little farther away, not to interfere with the installation. They actively participated to this event, the first of this kind on the island, as if they knew that these artworks would not have stopped its precious silence. To reach San Francesco del Deserto, visitors have to leave the busy Saint Mark Square and travel by boats more and more small, more and more close to the water, letting the wind sweep away thoughts and bring silence.

Attraverso il tempo, Livio Seguso

Photos:
TravelinaGarden, San Francesco del Deserto, July 2013.

Links:
ARTLIFE for the World, Sestiere Cannaregio, Venice
www.artlifefortheworld.it/‎

Beyond the mystical landscape
Artists and Works:
Julia Artico  Tra Terra Cielo e Acqua
Nicoletta Freti  O beata solitudo! O sola beatitudo!
Pam Longobardi  Reflecting Web of the Anthropocene
Chicco Margaroli Ogni luce
Stefano Passerotti Altare della Natura Sonoro, 
Musica originale di Francesco Mantero
Maria Grazia Rosin Morbide macchine carnivore
Lorella Salvagni Trasvolare
Livio Seguso Attraverso il tempo
Maria Luisa Sponga Ulisse non c’è
Lucia Sterlocchi  Dentro il silenzio
Barbara Toffano Quando la marea sussurra
Progetto Merletto frattale di Maria Grazia Rosin, Maestra merlettaia Sandra Maravacchio

Vegetables and Flowers: the Gardens of Borgo Pirelli, Bicocca, Milano.

There is a group of houses in the north-eastern outskirts of Milan that does not hide the signs of time, but with its peeling walls, faded decorations in pure Art Nouveau style, and crooked entrance doors recalls a story begun in the early years of the twentieth century. At that time, this area, the Bicocca district, underwent a rapid industrial development, and among the first entrepreneurs to move here their facilities, there were the young Piero and Alberto Pirelli. In the 1950s, their factories for the production of tyres and electric cables employed around 12.000 people, spread among monumental plants and laboratories connected with elevated walkways and locomotives, and for whom a development plan of affordable housing was also begun.

Borgo Pirelli, this is the name of the group of 27 two-storey houses, was built between 1920 and 1923 for Pirelli’s employees and workers and for their families. Basic shops and smaller and more economic apartments were available in the nearby Casone (Big house), a U-shaped four-storey building.
The project was inspired by similar Anglo-Saxon and German experiences of social housing, based on the 'garden village model,' and contemplated a total of 90 houses, but it was not completed. Borgo Pirelli, the portion achieved, offered a good quality standard in an environment on a human scale. Unlike other comparable initiatives, in fact, houses were not small, anonymous and monotonous dwellings arrayed in parallel rows, but buildings of different sizes, arranged in a casual manner in an area of 22.000 square metres, each featuring its own decorative and architectural details, and surrounded by a small private garden. This was intended to provide fresh vegetables for the family, as it still happens today.

In these last days of summer, there are white and pink oleanders near the houses, dark hibiscus along the paths, old shrubs of roses with few leaves and few blossoms, hydrangeas and flourishing crossvines climbing on the fences mixed with wisteria and ivy. Zinnias, petunias and sunflowers thrive among tomatoes, cabbages, cucumbers, zucchini, cauliflowers and herbs.


Traditional cultivations that seem to ignore the changes happened in the Bicocca district after the closing of the factories begun in the 1970s, and the subsequent long period of neglect. Today, the important project for the requalification of this area is a reality, with cultural, commercial and residential initiatives settled in the historical plants, and green areas used to create unity among them. Simple and low maintenance planting schemes are privileged, with resistant trees, such as magnolias, salix, ulmus, and acers, clumps of bamboo and grasses, shrubs of roses and a very limited use of bedding plants. Water flows, sprinkles, gushes or simply reflects the sky in large and modern fountains. Prunus triumph on the Collina dei Ciliegi, Cherry Hill, the artificial mount created with the debris excavation of Pirelli, whose hillsides slip towards Borgo Pirelli.
Ivy that covers the retaining wall reaches out to the houses where everyday life invades the gardens. Hanging clothes that flutter between two old trees, a table with four chairs under a pergola, a barbecue in a corner of the lawn, small bicycles, susceptible dogs patrolling the gates, a number of faded gnomes and a variety of flower pots do not leave room for carpets of liriope muscari or the waves of soft pennisetum that are flowering at the feet of the hill.

Violet grapes ripen on a solitary vine above the entrance door of a house. They should be perfect to taste walking up to the top of the hill, where past and present melt on the horizon.

Photos:
TravelinaGarden,
Design of the "cottage-type" in the original project of Borgo Pirelli, from the AIRE research, pg. 245.


Further reading:
Linee guida per una casa durevole e sostenibile in relazione al parco edilizio esistente nel territorio di Milano, AIRE research, Politecnico di Milano e dell’Università di Bologna, Volume II, Milano, 2008.

Design of the "cottage-type" in the original project of BorgoPirelli

Senza Titolo, 1971. Mario Merz, Venice.

Mario Merz. Senza titolo, 1971.

Neon lights illuminate a sequence of numbers in the installation entitled “Senza titolo” (Untitled), signed by the Italian artist Mario Merz (1925-2003) and presented at the exhibition “Fragile?”  held on the San Giorgio Maggiore Island in Venice between April and July. Each number was placed in a corner of a square sheet of glass that stood, perpendicular to the wall, on a layer of earth. The glass sheets followed one another at irregular intervals and just the end of the wall seemed to stop their endless progression. Numbers were not random but complied with the Fibonacci’s sequence, the mathematical sequence discovered by the Italian monk and mathematician Leonardo Fibonacci at the beginning of the 13th century. The rhythmic progression of numbers is considered expression of the energy of the universe, as its increasing trend can be found in several natural forms, from the number of petals in a daisy to the pattern of the scales in a cone.

Mario Merz. Senza titolo, 1971. Detail.

From 1969, the Fibonacci’s sequence became a distinctive element in Merz’s works, declined in canvases, photographs, performances and installations. In this installation dated 1971, the neon lights immediately caught the attention on the sequence of numbers, symbols of energy and of growth. A process of creation that is expressed in a variety of forms, as exemplified by the different materials used for this work: the long strip of earth, with its colour and texture, combined with the cold transparency of the sheets of glass.

Mario Merz. Senza titolo, 1971. Detail.

 
The exhibition “Fragile?” explored the Venetian glassmaking tradition observed in contemporary artistic forms, where everyday objects are the medium to express and interpret ideas, experiences and moments of our life. In one of the rooms, I saw a long strip of earth cut by numbered sheets of glass, and the name Fibonacci. I had just discovered his work visiting a garden at the Moscow Flower Show: A la Mode Dining. (see my post: answer your questions... Caspian Robertson, A la Mode Dining - An edible garden, Moscow Flower Show, June 2013
http://travelinagarden.blogspot.it/2013/08/to-answer-your-questions-caspian.html) and this different representation of the medieval formula struck me.
I’m looking forward to being surprised again by the Fibonacci’s sequence.

Joseph Beuys. Terremoto in palazzo, 1981. Detail.

Mona Hatoum. Drowning Sorrows (wine bottles), 2004.

Photos:
TravelinaGarden, Venice, July 2013.

Links:
“Fragile?”
Le Stanze del Vetro, Fondazione Giorgio Cini
Isola di San Giorgio Maggiore, Venezia.
http://www.cini.it/en/events/fragile-2
Fondazione Merz, Milano.  
http://fondazionemerz.org/en