:Crabs — Lateral notes from a student in Venice
Emily is a university student, living in Venice for her studies — not fully inside, not completely outside.
She was handed a disposable film camera and asked simply to observe.
What comes out is a series of small, lateral views — fragments caught from a distance that is neither tourist nor local, but something quietly in between.
"That window is my favourite in the whole house. That Venetian glimpse — very typical, very raw — where gondolas and boats arrive from the corners as if emerging straight out of the brick, out of the very walls, heading at full speed toward our building. Sometimes we hear the lagoon water rise during that sudden curve that saves them from crashing into the wall. And with such elegance, this long gondola manages to account for the height, the width, the turn it must take — this, this finest, most marvellous and singular vessel. And with elegance it finds its way around and back onto the straight path.
That bridge near the Squero Tramontin sees many different people pass at many different hours of the day. Some going to work, others to school. The rubbish collectors lifting the various bins, the various carts they push through every morning, ringing our doorbells and calling out from the bridge. That grey sky, slightly veiled, that nevertheless carries the change of season — never failing to make you pause and think. And to give dimension, a whole third dimension, to this marvellous city that is always reflecting itself in its own shadows, reflections, lights and mirrors.
A classic university lunch at home. Often, alas, with the laptop open in front of me, already scanning emails, already starting to organise the afternoon ahead. Notes and books to the side. Avocado, cherry tomatoes, mozzarella — a true workhorse of student life. Daily, and for long stretches of the day, we make our way toward Le Terese, one of the IUAV university buildings.
And here, together with places like Badoer, Tolentini, Terese itself, we spend a great deal of time among these columns that carve out the shape of our classrooms and always try to reconcile the old with the new. Le Terese for its courtyard, for its portico, for the church beside it. It is one of the spaces I love most, one that makes me feel most at ease — very characteristic. And that typical chessboard paving. It always gives you a sense of depth as you walk toward those doors and catch sight of friends, colleagues, classmates, professors, between one column and the next, between one arcade and another. The university bathroom stops are often futuristic. In Venice you find architectural details that are sometimes rather brutalist and innovatively ambiguous — even in the bathrooms.
A typical dinner — a simple pasta, always balanced with a good amount of vegetables and tomato. It often gathers many people, many friends around my table at home. During the week, I love that geometric, singular inlay that belongs to the Scarpa family and that bewitches our — sorry — our hob. It draws these square shapes somewhere between a square and a cross. I spend several minutes of my day unconsciously watching this pattern.
Those evenings, often more precious when certain friends arrive — one friend in particular — between singing and guitar. Talk, conversations about our days, thoughts, a bottle of wine or two, someone smoking, so a few cigarettes. And we sing, moving from singer-songwriters to musicals, to Disney, to our own improvisations. Always staying in harmony between two voices. Accompanied by a gentle guitar sound, the nylon strings brushing the air around us.
The change of season often takes me up onto the roof. Where, perhaps, I shouldn't be setting foot too often. But with care, you can reach the top of one of the main walls that divides the garden in two. And there is a safe spot where you can sit, where the sun falls just right. Where it is also very pleasant to study — there is a great deal of quiet around. Sometimes you hear the sounds from the squero. A hammer, a chainsaw, a nail, wood. And a few footsteps of people crossing the bridge, passing along the street. The dishes being set out to dry on the other side of the calle.
A part of my week is very, very often spent in dance studios. We follow masterclasses given by our university, and this was one of the halls, actually, which brought us to Vicenza. So Venice always has this ability to attract people to it, to make them feel in this magical bubble, which is the lagoon and this floating island in amongst it, which is a mystery to all. And it also always gives that chance and possibility to come across people from all over the world and to experience going out and living out. Sometimes it is necessary to exit that bubble, and often even only the countryside or the cities in the region, within the region, is the place where we head to.
So in this case, Vicenza, Verona, Padova are very much in dialogue with Venice. That stream of light made us warm up the place as we were dancing and training and following this workshop. And in that moment, it had formed this perfect diagonal which fitted into the corner, and I've always loved details in places such as light reflecting trees being projected onto the wall and that is then projected once again onto a mirror which mirrors it off. Covered by details like a cloth that hangs from it, and you can see the flash and people I enjoy and spend lots of time with daily throughout university were intrigued by this flash suddenly, suddenly coming into the frame.
There's always some moments in the day in the theater and performative arts in which you may, well, you have the chance to fake being a diva.
It's typical to have live music going on and to end up in evenings with a cello express in your hand in which you're projected into this warm atmosphere, which is held in between the walls of the various hall and in the various bakery atmosphere. This time around, we were listening to a band in which my friend plays, so we were being the fans.
Details from the tops of drinks we have and of friends who work behind these bakery bars, typical points of reunion and where we daily bump into familiar faces and spend time between a few drinks and lots of talking, lots of thinking, lots of reflecting, lots of laughing, lots of having fun.
The sound of the ice, the sound of the fizzy water going into the drink, the sound of the glass touching the wood to be served. This will always be unforgettable and very unique to Venice. That tinge of orange that hits the ice in the end.
A very narrow alley and calle is what you learn as a student in Venice, one of the first things you learn well in order to avoid the tourists, to take the shortcuts, to take the even more curious and pleasant cuts in which your legs can walk at a very fast pace, not a normal pace, to then come out into the crowds once again.
But smile even if they do sometimes get in your way, but the people there are happy. They're taking pictures and they are very often excited to be in Venice. So however annoying it may get to have to stumble across crowds of and herds of people, there is always a smile on your face at the end of the day.
Typical little markets set up in the campi, people going for a stroll on a Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning. On Sunday Venice empties out for many things, shops, some shops close, and there are more typical and quieter atmospheres to the place, although it is often invaded by tourists.
Zattere is the place to be. Zattere is one of the areas I hold most dear and I've spent... Countless times there, it was one of the first walks outside of our dormitory in the first year, and now I have luckily ended up living very nearby.
I like to sit and often just pop out of the library and observe Giudecca on the other side, look at the waves and the shadows, the shapes that form in the water, creases. It is enchanting to feel the seaweed and the algae, which is modifying with the movement given by the wind and the waves. It often hypnotizes you in a very positive way and reflective way. You often see, catch the best sunsets there, going over where the sky lights up bright red and this huge ball of fire just sets under the lagoon behind Porto Marghera in the distance. Seagulls always keep you company and you share many moments in company there, but also being alone, sitting on the side of that specific bench is a feeling which stays with you for the rest of your life if you have the luck to experience it in Venice at Zattere at that time, in that moment, and for various years and days.
I finally reach Punta della Dogana, strolling along these sunsets and... typical Venetian pavings. In Punta della Dogana everything happens. To me, it's my favorite place where I can look out. I'm on a point. I see all the beauty around, and you get the sensation of being, yes, in a lagoon city, but it's open, and it's looking way beyond what you see. A place I hold most dear for a lot of sentimental moments, a lot of familiar and very dear people and moments I've shared things with on that point. Often the best place to go after a day of studying, a day of work, a day of modern chaotic society, Punta della Dogana always brings you back with your feet on the ground, maintaining that sensation of floating within the waves that surround it".
Emily
