A Venetian Party

Halloween needn't be a cheesy affair.  Although, surely, that isn't without its own merits...

As I've been spending my time fabricating dripping skin and formulating ways to mimic Meryl Streep's rotating head from her character in Death Becomes Her (my costume this year, ha!), I found myself in need of a more...elegant escape.  I love Venice, in all its maze-like glory, and have been seriously infatuated with this photograph from Venice, A Personal View by Andrea Baldeck:

Halloween is coming  up soon— if you don't have a costume, look no farther, get yourself to a dance store, and buy up their stock of tulle! I almost regret not doing this myself.  Although, maybe that's why people have early parties...

In any case, this photo, and a generally Venetian mood, was my latest inspiration for a light-hearted piece I painted- a beat up former record cabinet that is now... a liquor cabinet.  Everyone needs a pretty place to keep their booze for the holiday season, right?

Especially one that opens up to metallics! (I have to laugh. It's almost comical how attached I am to these metallics...) I love the glimmer of beautiful liquor bottles, why aren't the interiors of liquor cabinets usually more adorned? They spend so much time open, after all...

Above, by Andrea Baldeck, from Venice: A Personal View

Campari and Cope

One of my most insanely gorgeous and exciting purchases was this very old cope (of the ecclesiastical vestment variety). I acquired it on ebay, it shipped from France, and it found me on the hottest day of the summer drinking bitter spritzes.


Anyone who hasn't tried a bitter spritz absolutely needs to. Little bars in Venice serve these drinks by the pitcher, along with salty snacks. Mix: 2 parts prosecco (or other dry sparkling wine), 1 part campari, top with a splash of mineral water and a green olive. For a sweet spritz, replace the Campari with Aperol and add an orange slice instead of an olive. Incidentally, these were probably the reason why it seemed like a good idea to play dress up in the cope, but that's a story for another day.


I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with the cope. My first thought was that the back panel would make a lovely oversized and very Byzantine-inspired pillow complete with fringe, but ultimately, I didn't have the heart to cut it apart.




And then, a eureka moment! The cope fits perfectly on the sofa. It's like it was tailored for it. WHO KNEW.

Forcola Forms

I've always felt that the only thing more gratifying than discovering a beautiful objet d'art is appropriating one from an unexpected context.

Take, for instance, the forcola. These are pretty much a perfect example of what I'm talking about: Hand carved, sinuously graceful forms that are actually designed to hold the oar on a Venetian gondola! In any case, one — or even better — a collection en masse, would make an interesting addition to a vignette. Almost better than a collection of obelisks, even.

I think it's the solid architectural quality that appeals to me most. Actually, I think I may have read somewhere that the architect I.M. Pei was similarly captivated by their form, but don't quote me...

As for my shot of the gondola factory, well... just chalk it up to being in a Venetian mood. And seriously, if anyone is planning a trip to Venice anytime soon (jealous!), there's an amazing cicheti place right across the canal, in Dorsoduro. Mmm... I think I need a vacation.

Forcole from the workshop of Saverio Pastor. Photos by Sergio Sutto, from forcole.com.

Gondola factory in Dorsoduro, Venice, Italy.