Day 13 - I love you MANN

Having survived a rather disappointing visit to Herculaneum, with more closures than I had expected,  I was crossing my fingers as I made my way to the National Archeological Museum in Naples (aka MANN), since I had run into inexplicable closures there in the past. I particularly wanted to see the Farnese collection of sculptures, which we missed last time. 

Entry to the museum (from last visit, with Marianne)

I came into town on the Circumvesiana, the local train system for the Bay of Naples, which pretty closely resembles the Disneyland train, with open windows, rattly cars, and excitable youths hanging from the bars and out the windows. Arriving in Naples' main station, it was nice to see that they had finished the big (enormous) mall project out in front of the station, and they had also given the Metro line a total facelift, which really improved the feeling of not being in the Bronx. Hopped up to the museum without a snag, got my ticket, and was glad to hear that all the galleries were open today.

New subway station in Napoli- a vast improvement!

Started out in the Farnese collection, passing through sections of architectural stonework that impressed me just as much as the meticulous painting I've seen all over this area. How they achieved such a high level of craftsmanship (and at times even why; explain that later) draws me deeper and deeper into the puzzle of the Roman Civilization. 

Section of entablature from the Domus Flaviana on the Palatine. Incredible craftsmanship that goes way beyond "necessary"

The Farnese were a rich and powerful family that reached the papacy with Alessandro (1468-1549) who became Pope Paul III and was partly responsible the Palazzo Farnese in Campo Dei Fiori, and the amazing Palazzo Farnese at Caprarola. They collected Roman statuary from a variety of places, including the Baths of Caracalla, and their garden on the Palatine Hill overlooking the Roman Forum. They acquired other pieces by purchase, marriage, and occasionally by pilfering. Most of the collection was originally displayed in Rome, at the Palazzo Farnese or in the Garden, but it was then moved to Napoli by the last of the Farnese line, who was King Charles III of the Bourbon dynasty, who ruled from there. I'm going to imagine there's still more than a few Romans who are kind of pissed off about that!

Scooby Who? I'm a Leopard, you dummy!

The collection included architectural fragments from the Domus Flavia on the Palatine, some amusing animals from different spots, and then a hall with numerous gigantic statues that came from the Baths of Caracalla, where they must have looked quite fitting in the enormous vaulted hallways that housed the baths, playing fields, libraries and social rooms. The largest is the so-called Farnese Bull, which tells the story of Dirce, tied to a bull for her mistreatment of Antiope. The scale of this piece is stunning, especially considering it was carved from a single block of marble. It's had numerous repairs and restorations over the years since it's unearthing, but it, like the Laöcoon statue at the Vatican, give some idea of the grand gesture sculptures at that time. In other words, it's really big!

The Farnese Bull sculpture, carved from a single block of marble!

After the sculpture hall I went up to the rooms that house the artifacts excavated from the Villa di Papiri in Herculaneum, which is directly below me in my hotel right now. It was the villa the Getty museum used as a model for their building in Pacific Palisades. The sheer bulk of things that came out of there is pretty mind blowing, especially considering that it's really only fractionally excavated, with tunnels dug in the 18th century and refilled (because it's under my hotel!) It always gets me how much is known but undug here- at least one quarter of Pompeii is still under the dirt- they just don't have enough funds to dig it out properly, and the conservation of what has already been uncovered is the highest priority right now, so things just have to wait.

One of about 20 ranks of statues and busts that came from the Villa di Papiri. It must have been stunning!

Had fun running into an Italian family that were staying at the place I'm staying in Herculaneum- they seemed very nice that morning when we talked, and it turned out the only American artist they knew is a guy I recently met after being aware of his work for quite some time- D. Jeffery Mims. Small world indeed. I've met a lot of nice people traveling on my own for a bit while Marianne finishes up at work. The couple in the flat are both chemists- she's Polish, he's Brazilian, both working with the university in Portici, next to Ercolano. They were heading to a conference in Korea, and then Japan. And a British couple here on holiday, who came sort of on a whim, and don't seem to know anything about it other than that it's warm. Spoke with a Mexican guy who was working in Germany and had taken a cheap room in Naples, only to find it was actually about 15 miles away and was spending a lot on taxis. And finally last night as I finished up the day in Naples, I saw a young woman lugging TWO of those enormous hard case suitcases down the stairs to the Circumvesiana, so I offered to help with one. She was from Chile, though she spoke very good English, and her friend was from Holland- they had both just returned from a food convention in Turkey, and were heading down to Sorrento for a weekend before returning home to work. I don't know how she was going to manage the two bags, and they had no reservation in Sorrento, but they seemed very undaunted. Fun to meet adventurous people!

My Brit friends Simon and Liz were good company at the place in Herculaneum

After the museum, I went to the Piazza Dante and walked down the "SpaccaNapoli", an alley that runs in a straight line right through the middle of the old section of Naples, with shops, vendors, pizzerias, scooters, and even the occasional car all weaving and ducking and yelling and waving their way up and down this chaotic but vibrant city. Back at the hotel, they finally had a real room for me, so I moved all my stuff across the street (after saying good bye to the chemists!) and went to bed. 

Day 12- Herc, you Jerk!

All I need is a bed, somewhere to rest my head!

Well, you win some, and you lose some. After landing in this strange little place last night, I've gotten to kind of like my hosts. Neither one of them looks very Italian- more German or Austrian really, and they are not the loud brash types that seem to be the norm here. They have patience for my rudimentary Italian skills, and they didn't toss me out on the street when the reservation fell through, which would have been a real disaster. I'm also hoping they'll give me bit of a discount for not having wi-fi or a private bath in the flat across the street they gave me. I met one of my flat mates this morning, a nice Polish grad student working on a Phd in chemistry at the University here. She showed me how to work the washing machine, which is another distinct bonus of being over here, as I was just about out of clean socks and underwear. 

This leaves my laundry in the shade!

Went over to the hotel part to have breakfast on the terrace, which was lovely, then collected my things and went down to the Herculaneum Ruins. Several large tour groups had gotten there ahead of me, so I felt like a bit of a salmon as I tried to slip between them while avoiding the mostly overbearing and under-informed guides, who really grate on my nerves. At one point, in the Men's bathhouse, there were two of them going head to head over a very small opening between two of the rooms. Reminded me of the story by Dr. Seuss about the two Zax's, one who always went north and the other who always went south. "Get out of my way, now, and let me go forth!"

Spent some time in the College of the Augustales, a beautifully painted room that also has a lot of carbonized wood that has been preserved where it was found, under a roof that has been reconstructed from the remains. Herculaneum was encased in a pyroclastic flow of hot mud and gases, unlike Pompeii, which was hit with more ash, pumice and gases. The mud in Herculaneum is much harder to remove than the lightweight lapili found at Pompeii and Stabia, but it also preserved more of the organic materials, such as wooden beams, furniture, and even food. There are loaves of carbonized bread in the museum in Boscoreale that show exactly what it looked like, a round loaf with wagon-wheel indentations on top.

Not all of that wood is original, but there are large sections of it that are the real thing, carbonized, but still in place. In the College of the Augustales

This is where things started to go south. As I turned the corner of the top street, which was kind of a piazza like space, I started noticing barriers that had not been there before, and I got a bad feeling, like the previous visit to Pompeii in 2013. Sure enough, when I asked a guard if there was anything open now that hadn't been open two years ago, he sheepishly admitted that no, it was the opposite, that some things that had been open then were in fact closed now, including two that had been high on my list to revisit. The House of the Stags (Casa dei Cervi) was a very opulent house on the seafront (then) and it was also where my camera battery ran out last time. Very sad to hear that was now off limits. Also the Suburban Baths (see yesterday's post for explication of the name), which closed early last time we visited, was now completely out for repair work. The palaestra, where you can go inside some of the original tunnels that were how they explored

 Herculaneum to begin with, is now closed, and none of the ones they were working on last time had been opened since then. Bummer!

I hate this sign!

Nevertheless, there were some nice moments: the House of the Wooden Partition, which has a free standing wooden screen preserved in the atrium, The House of the Grand Portal, which has one of my favorite murals, with theatrical curtains painted over an all blue background, The House of the Beautiful Courtyard (need I say more?) and the House of the Black Salon all stand out. One thing that struck me again was the height of many of the rooms here. The rooms at Pompeii were just as high in many cases, but Pompeii lost more of its height due to the higher heat of the ash and gas mix that blasted down on them, so you're not as aware of that height in most of its sites. The house of the Samnites is another nice one that was still open, thank goodness, and it has a two story atrium that must have been stunning, with molded plaster columns surrounding the upper floor, and traces of what looks to have been a majestic mural all the way around. 

I never get tired of this theatrical frieze mural on the blue walls of the salon of the House of the Grand Portal. 

After finishing up there I found a lunch spot that looked promising but turned out to be rather average and pricey - should have gone further away from the park entrance- I returned to the hotel and found a spot on the terrace to sit and write. While I was sitting there, some kind of "discussion" began to erupt upstairs between about 6 or 7 people, all of whom were eventually shouting over each other at the top of their lungs, overlaid by the bambino, who was yelling "Mamma, Mamma, MAMMA!" the entire time, which must have been 15 minutes. You'd think Vesuvius was erupting and they were arguing about how many would fit in the boat, but it was likely nothing more than a political opinion, which are running high right now due to the elections that just happened. 

"Your Vote Counts!"

Day 11 - Pompeian Circumstance

A new record for me today, with over 835 photos taken at Pompeii and environs! Got out of my plain little room on the noisy boulevard around 8:30 am, stashed my bag at the train station, and went in to the Scavi (Ruins) of the town of Pompeii on a beautiful morning with clear skies and moderate temps, although I did shed my jacket before too long, unlike the day before at Stabia, where I kept it on all day. As I walked in I could hear the chants of the politically inclined out in the street, as they last minute campaigned for their champion down to the wire.

Juice stall with Sorrento lemons just outside the Pompeii gates

When I first came here with my family in 2007, there were very few things that were closed- essentially the Casa Vettii was the only one, and certainly no streets. The next time i was here was two years ago, and I felt extremely frustrated and hindered by the number of closures around town.  It was the same thing this time, with numerous streets and buildings inaccessible, but at least I knew what was coming. They have actually opened up a few more of them since the last time I was here, and everything looks like they're doing some good work. There's still a LOT of areas that are inaccessible, but at least they're doing something to preserve what's there. 

"Menu" of erotic options at the Suburban Baths. 

I decided to beeline for the Villa of the Mysteries before the big tour groups could get there, though I did stop off first at the Suburban Baths, which is right next to the entry ramp. They call them "suburban" because they were below the town walls, not out in the 'burbs. They feature some rather notorious sexual position murals that are thought to be a menu of possibilities for customers. "I'd like a number 7 please, with a little #4 for dessert." There's also a large cascading fountain and bath in the back that must have been quite something. After that I hiked over to the Villa, which is also outside the walls on the northwest side of town, and I was pleased to see that the crowd there was slim- just some French school kids in a bunch, and a few other people. I immediately went to the oecus- a big ocean-view social room- that has the famous mural of the mysterious rite for which the villa is named. I had plenty of time and space to attempt to get some good shots of it in the low light they keep it in for protection. Took twenty-five, only to then realize that my camera dial was set to "soft focus" accidentally! Urrrrghh! Why do they even include a setting like that? I was having a bit of camera envy for the big SLR rigs that some people had brought, since they let in so much more light than my pocket Nikon, but I love how portable mine is, and it actually takes pretty good photos and has a vey long zoom lens, so I'll stick with it.

Border detail from the Villa of the Mysteries. Precision work!

Slowly wandered through the rest of the house after that, marveling at the incredibly fine work in several of the rooms. Impossibly delicate decorations in so many different styles; the variety of pattern and structure has really struck me on this trip. Even simple patterns have variations in them that keep the eye coming back, and structural elements are subtly changed from one panel to another, so that what looks like a regular repeat is actually a whole compendium of forms placed in serial format, meaning that eye has more to see over time. The effect might sometimes look like stencil, but it is a very different feeling with much more satisfying visual pleasure. They must have had scores of painters for places like this, because no matter how good you are, and how long you've been doing it, work like that takes a lot of time! Some things about the painting are becoming apparent to me on this trip- technical details about fresco that I won't bore you with, though they're very interesting to me. After the house I became an informal tour guide to a couple of Americans I met there, guiding them to the Forum baths and a couple other painted spots with commentary. They both said I should hire out as a guide, which I've heard more than once here, but I need to save it for blogging. 

Picture of Narcissus from the House of the Ara Maxima, one of the ones that was closed last time. He is depicted in a pinake- an antique type of folding frame- sort of a picture in picture

Broke away from them by going at my usual snail-like photography pace and found a few of the spots that were closed last time I was here - that was fun - but I was pretty shocked at how many large chunks of the town are still totally inaccessible. Snacked on some peanuts ("arachidi" in Italian -we call them "arachnids") and the cherries I bought from the farm stand in Stabia, then made my way towards the exit, pausing to contemplate that I don't know when I'll be back, maybe not until I know they've reopened significant areas. 

The Stabian Baths are amazing. The tourists, not so much!

On my way to Herculaneum, my next stop, I was accompanied on the train by a boisterous bunch of high school age kids who yelling, slapping, grabbing, fighting, and generally creating mayhem in a way that only Italian kids can do, especially the ones from Naples area. Absolute chaos, but harmless. Got off in Herculaneum and casually strolled down the main drag towards the hotel, glad to have visited here once before to get the general layout. I made the one turn on the route, and noticed how much funkier the neighborhood gets as soon as you get away from the center. Not scary, but definitely rougher looking. Found the rather anonymous looking place, rang the bell, and waited several minutes before a woman answered and told me to come in and up to the first floor, which is what we call the second floor. She greeted me warmly and brought me in, but after a few minutes it appeared that they hadn't received any kind of notice from the online reservation company, Venere.com. She told me they were totally sold out, it being the big national holiday time, but her husband came down and said they had a rental apartment across the street that I could stay in. He walked me over and I looked at it, then we went back to the hotel part because there isn't any wi-fi at the apartment and I wanted to check emails and Facebook. They said I could hang out on the terrace there as long as I wanted, and it was very nice, with a great view of Capri and the Bay. I sat there quite a while, met an young English couple that had just arrived and were visiting the area for the first time, drank my soda water and watched the sun go down. I was going to go out and get something at a market, but it got late so I just skipped it. Maybe I'll lose a few pounds on the trip, which I could use.

View of the coast near Sorrento, from the terrace of the hotel I was supposed to have a room in.

Day 9- 10 Getting into the garbage with a lurker

Warning, this is a long one, so pull up a chair and  I hope you have your reading glasses on!

Day 9 of the trip was mostly spent taking the train from Lecce to Castellammare di Stabia, a sleepy little seaside town at the southern end of the Bay of Naples, just before the Sorrentine Peninsula begins. I skipped over the Amalfi coast because Marianne wasn't with me to take in a romantic sunset, and because it's not a good area to save money, being mostly geared to higher end tourism, which leaves me out! Honestly, as much as I do love good cooking, I am just as easily satisfied with picking up the local stuff at the market and eating simply: tomatoes, some arugula, a smoked cheese or some fresh mozzarella, maybe a little marinated vegetables, and a bit of chocolate or a gelato. Done! For the equivalent price of an appetizer in a low end restaurant.

Wandering in the streets of Castellammare di Stabia made me feel like I was in an old Fellini movie. Very normal people, and no tourists at all.

Because we were mostly eating as a group for the conference in Lecce, I hadn't really stocked up on anything when I left town on the train at 7 am, and all the connections (I took 5 different trains to get to Stabia!) didn't have much layover time, so by the time I got there I was pretty hungry. I found my little B&B with a bit of luck and a friendly local who knew where it was exactly, and as soon as I was settled I took off to see the town, which I had visited two years ago with Marianne. The first thing that struck me was the piles of garbage everywhere! They must be having a strike there ( I never did learn the true story) because last time it was not at all like that. I made my way down to the seafront and was somewhat surprised to see that the entire beach area was cordoned off with construction barriers that hid everything! I say somewhat because the last time we came it seemed in serious need of a makeover, with a weedy trolley track that seemed unused, and a dirty beach devoid of all people (on a very hot day!) I walked along it for a bit until I saw some kids slipping through a chink in the fences, and I followed them down to the beach, where a few kids were playing soccer at the far end, but which was generally deserted.

Most of the places along the beach north of Stabia (going towards Pompeii) seem to completely ignore the waterfront. Imagine if they built like this in Hermosa Beach! As always, Vesuvius lurks in the background!

The beach there has a very odd character, with much of the architecture ignoring it completely, unlike anything you'd find in the US. At the water's edge, I found bits of lapilli, the little balls of pumice that rained down unmercifully on Pompeii, and I tossed a handful into the water to see they'd float. Yup, they did. Even a chunk as big as a baseball sat on top of the waves! Vesuvius' shadow seems to lurk behind every corner, casting it's warning glare over the whole area, as if to say "enjoy it now, suckers,  because it won't last forever!" It's truly frightening to think of another eruption on that scale at the present time, with buildings that go right up the flank of the volcano, and it's not a question of if, only of when. Vesuvius is in fact deemed to be close to another eruption in the next 100 years or so, though that's probably about as accurate as weather prediction.

Kids playing soccer on the edge of the forlorn beach. They'll have great memories of this after it all gets fixed up and nobody can use it.

I got down to the other end of the beach, where you can clearly see two things- the 9th century castle from which the town takes its name, and the now defunct gondola, which closed some time ago, but left the structure going all the way up to the top of the hills south of town. Looks like it must have been an amazing view of the Bay from up top of the mountain. Speaking of mountains, I was pleasantly surprised by the journey from Lecce, which was far greener and hillier than I had expected to see. From Brindisi, on the Adriatic coast, the train had crossed the peninsula to Taranto, a busy port on the Ionian, then skirted the coast for a while through large stands of pine trees that reminded me of New Jersey's forests. Then it became hilly, green farmland that looked like Northern California…with castles. Slowly it became a mountainous area that was quite green and covered with dense forests like the Adirondacks, while we descended alongside a river for a long time before finally reaching the plain that led to Salerno, the city on the southern side of the Sorrento peninsula, where I changed trains again, finally crossing the last bit of hills and into the bay of Naples, where I found my last connection to take me back southward to Stabia.

Somewhere between Taranto and Salerno. Just like Central California....with castles!

After checking out the beach I finally got a gelato. I have a weird thing when I get hungry- I kind of go into overdrive, and I'm not yearning for food, but I know that if I don't eat I'll conk out eventually. The gelato was holding me though, so I walked back towards the hotel and shopped for a belt and a jacket, which I needed because it has been surprisingly cool here. I had it on all day today, which is amazing considering last time we were here it was around 100 degrees a lot of the time! Makes it soooo much easier when it's not boiling! I grabbed a few things at a corner store, had an in room meal, and hit the bed by 10:30 for the first time in two weeks!

This beautiful little alley on the way to the ruins was completely lined with garbage, but it couldn't ruin the wonderful morning for me!

The next day I got up and had the breakfast they offered, then headed out to see the two Roman villas that sit up on a bluff above the town. There are actually around eleven villas that were explored and mapped here in the 18th century, but most of them were reburied and the rest are not generally viewable. I knew the route from our former trip here, and the weather this morning was extraordinary- clear and refreshing- just about perfect weather for exploring. As I got to the entrance of the first villa, called the Villa Arianna, there was a small tour group just ahead of me with a mixed bunch of mostly Brits and Americans, and I sort of tagged along because I thought the guide was pretty good, and had very little accent (or attitude) to overcome. Me being me, I sort of opined on a couple of things about the paintings, and the very friendly guide invited me to join with them to walk around the place.

One of the advantages of being with this tour group is that they opened a couple of rooms I hadn't gone in last time here, including this gigantic atrium of the second complex villa at Arianna

 Both of these villas were seaside getaways for very wealthy families. They had large rooms that were very well decorated, private bath areas, large exercise fields, and one had an exquisite swimming pool down the middle of it. They sat on a bluff that was once directly over the waves, though they sit about a quarter mile inland now due to the fill left by the volcanic detritus. Nowadays they look out over a large sea of rooftops before you see the ocean.

I think the rebuilt upper walls and roof of this atrium at Villa San Marco give you a better sense of the space- plus the protect the walls from moisture.

They are also generally in better shape than the houses at Pompeii due to the fact that they have been extensively rebuilt with protective upper walls and roofs, which I personally like, as I think it gives a better impression of what the spaces were like then, especially the atria, where you first entered the house, and where much of its business centered. Of course these were pleasure places, so there wasn't a lot of business going on there, other than running the household, which must have been quite an undertaking, considering their size and all the features they had.

The crazy faux marble room at the entry of the Villa Arianna second complex was closed last time too!

The servants and slaves must have been an army, and I often think they were seen more or less the way we see our appliances today, which explains why it wouldn't have been strange to be naked around them or that they would be constantly at hand to offer any convenience needed. Of course some were educated and even rose to take a place in high society, either by promotion by their owners, or by saving enough money to buy themselves out of bondage. Others, like those who stoked the fires of the baths, did not have an easy life and probably had little hope to advance.

One more detail of the trompe l'oeil work in that small vestibule



The tour guide offered to give me a lift on their bus to the other villa, which I accepted and did not regret, as it was a tad longer than I had remembered. The little plateau the villas sit on is amazing farmland due to the volcanic soil, and the gardens up there are dense with all kinds of stuff; I saw citrus trees, stone fruit trees, olives, grapes, tomatoes, onions, lettuces, broccoli, zucchini, all looking absolutely perfect and much denser planting than anything you'd see in the States. I wish we could grow something like that at home! 

A woman picking up cuttings on her farm next to the Villa San Marco. Everything was just about to start ripening now.

We toured the second villa (San Marco) again with the guide, who was born in the US, but grew up in Italy and lives in Vicenza, up in the north. They offered me lunch with them, but I declined in order to spend a bit more time shooting photos and doing a recreation of the design of the walls of the peristyle there. I had brought some snacks with me and repeated the repast that Marianne and I had done here two years ago, sitting under the sycamore trees by the swimming pool, imagining the splashing and squealing of bathers that must have sounded a lot like today. I walked back into town past the farms and got some fresh picked cherries from a farm stand (I really wanted to climb the trees I saw there and pick them myself!)

View from the peristyle of San Marco. Guess who's peeking!

Grabbed my things from the B&B, got the train and took the short ride up to Pompeii, where I'm sitting in the hotel tapping this out as the sun goes down, looking forward to a third visit to the site, and hoping that it isn't as limited as the last time I came, when I was very frustrated by closures. I took about 325 pics today, which feels more like my norm for these trips, having been slacking in Lecce and while in transit. 

Vesuvius can be seen everywhere, even from Paris (aka Kiddie Park in Pompeii town) 

Day 8 - Post Post-Salon Post

Seeing as I have about eight hours of train travel ahead of me, I might as well try to get caught up to today. Somewhere along the line, I seem to have lost a day somehow (my photos say it's day 9), but well, that's Italy! 

Time flies, as they say, and you can see the symbols for it on the sides of the entry to the monumental cemetery in Lecce

I'm leaving Lecce for Castellammare di Stabia (Roman ruins!) but I also feel like I'm leaving a new family behind, having met and really "Grokked" (a sci-fi term from Robert Heinlein meaning to understand thoroughly) these fellow travelers on the path of pattern, ornament, and art. It's so nice to be in a group where the word "acanthus"  doesn't send them scrambling for a dictionary. It was also nice to be in such a multinational group; we had travelers from the US, Japan, Spain, Norway, England and Ireland, France, Belgium, Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Latvia, Sweden, Denmark, Russia, Ukraine, and of course, Italy. It feels as though I have just expanded my (art) family by about tenfold. 

Part of our multilingual mass milling around before a group photo

Back to travelogue- after a decent night's sleep (though I don't seem to be able to get more than about five hours on any night!) I had  breakfast and said goodbye to some of the participants who were dispersing for various parts, did a bit of writing and travel planning for today, then got one of the free bikes from the hotel and set out. Lecce is a perfect town for a bike- flat as a pancake and generally smooth streets, though you do have to watch out for cars and buses and people walking along buried in their phones.

There are dozens of "streets" like this in the cemetery in Lecce.  Absolutely incredible!

My first stop was the cemetery very close to the hotel, which we had seen before but not managed to find open. I was glad I had the bike, since the entrance allee of Italian cypress trees was long. There was a large piazza in front of one of the baroque churches that cover all of Lecce, and then the cemeteries branched off on both sides. They were immense, with large family monuments all made of the butter colored Lecce stone, planted liberally with cypress, pines, and oleanders. It was enchanting- I was the only one there save for a few cats, and the architecture and stone work were both excellent. It didn't seem extremely old- mostly 19th century in the parts I explored, but the contrast to the newer sections was stark. The modern monuments had no warmth at all- they generally didn't even use the local stone, opting instead for gray and white marbles, with tinted windows and metal accents, looking more like miniature office buildings than monuments to a family's history. 

About as much charm as a refrigerator!

I wandered around in there for quite a while, did a drawing of one of them, unsuccessfully tried to lure a kitten out for a picture, got some water, and then headed back over to town on the bike, where i just meandered through the old streets without a map, stopping to take a few pictures outside some churches and trying not to hit anything due to the crummy brakes on the bike. 

Took a lot of accidental selfies on the bike as I was cruising

Eventually I found myself down in the opposite corner from the hotel, where there is an art and archeology museum that was again completely empty except for me. I went in (free!) and a guard ushered me up to the third floor, where they had a very good display of ancient history of the area, with ceramics going back over 5,000 years! I was left alone in there with a collection that would make the Getty quite happy, with multiple examples of many classic styles displayed with good information, unostentatiously. In another corner of the museum I found the Pinacoteca (picture gallery), where again I was alone- the guard turned the lights on just for me! They had one gallery of art from the Renaissance to the 18th century, and another with 19th and 20th. Not many names I recognized, other than a piece by Giuseppe de Ribera, but there were some very nice pieces, including an awesome cabinet covered with little dwarf genre paintings, some very nice majolica, and a curious statue of a putto covered with netting. Not sure what that was about, but it looked cool! 

19th c. ceramic sculpture. Ummmm?

Hit the road again to find some food, stopping briefly by a couple of grand old houses that were for sale along one of the busy streets. I pictured how pleasant it must have been when the only traffic there was clip-clopping horses, and how now you would need to put in triple insulated glass to really make it hospitable. Too bad, because I bet you could get them for a good price, and some of them had very nice sgraffito and decorations. I would have loved to at least had a chance to see what the interiors look like. Found some food, returned to the hotel and did some scribbling and more trip planning, and finished the day in the hotel restaurant with the rapidly dwindling crew from the exhibition. Packed up my gear late and went to bed for a few hours. 

Sold! Can you wrap it up to go?

Day 7 Olives, Liberty, and Fish for all!

Ok, I need to get a bit caught up before I head out on my own tomorrow for the Bay of Naples.

Day two of the Post Salon event set up by our hosts saw Marianne leaving early, on the first train for Brindisi, where she has a series of flights and connections planned to get her back to LA to finish up the school year, after which she heads back over to London, where I will meet her in a week and a half. I do NOT envy her day!

Baroque interior of the church at Galatone, where Caterina Manisco grew up.

Again those that remained got on a bus to head en masse first to the town of Galatone, about 45 minutes southwest from here, which is where Caterina Manisco, our amazing hostess, grew up. When we got there, we quickly checked out the church, with some very nice Baroque decoration, before being ushered in to a museum across the street. Inside, we saw the preserved remains of a very large olive oil production plant that goes back to around the 9th century, with large carved niches in the stone walls that once held presses for the olives, and the characteristic ocher Lecce stone vaults that are built above the space.

Room filled with machines designed by Leonardo da Vinci, all constructed by Caterina's father.  The niches in the stone walls once held olive presses for making oil. 

Then we entered the room that held the real reason we had gone there: a museum dedicated to the machines of Leonardo da Vinci, built from da Vinci's drawings by Caterina's father, who is a retired (ha!) engineer with an obvious fascination for things mechanical and an obsession (can I relate to that?) for figuring things out himself! The large space is filled with the various contraptions that da Vinci dreamed up, but rarely actually had constructed. Pulleys, screws, levers, mortars, guns, catapults, and all kinds of other bits fill the large hall, each of them hand made using tools of the period, including a lot of hand forged iron work and wood cut with hand tools. Very cool stuff, and all of it narrated by her father, who is an obvious dynamo, but friendly too!

Signore Manisco telling the story of his museum and of da Vinci's inventions. 

After a somewhat interminable speech by the local magistrate, we went outside the museum where a group of 20 or so school kids had assembled to do a little dance for us, much to Stefano's chagrin, as it was not planned and he felt it was more to give the politician some face time one week before local elections take place. But you couldn't help smiling as these 6 year old boys and girls went through their routine with gusto, lots of waving arms and dancing feet. It was very cute, and not in a bad way!

A lot of movement- not very much control, but it was totally charming to watch!

Once more on the bus we made it out to the other coast, past the olive trees that are fighting a desperate battle with a recent bacterial infection that is devastating the area, a very tough struggle for the growers of the region. We also passed by a series of very nice Stile Liberty (Italian Art Nouveau) houses on the outskirts of Galatone. As Stefano explained, Liberty in the south takes a lot of influence from Moorish design, as seen in the photo below. These would be built in the early 1900s.

Stile Liberty house outside of Galatone shows the regional influence of Moroccan architecture. Love to see the interior of this!

Our final destination that day was Gallipoli, a quiet seaside town with a slow moving harbor, mostly fishing boats and a few small freighters. We went to another restaurant for lunch here, and I really should have taken pics of the food, because it was incredible! Started off with about 7 or 8 seafood appetizers- and I could easily have called that lunch! But no, that was followed by pasta (with seafood), risotto (with seafood), followed by the main course of (drum roll please!) seafood! It was definitely excessive, but definitely delicious too!

Hoping our fish did not come from the docks right here! I'd probably be glow-in-the-dark!

After several hours of eating and chatting, we walked over to see the town, and some of us went down to jump in the water in the small bay in front of town, which felt as if it were very unchanged from antique times. No signs, just a few umbrellas and an ice cream cart, and the water was clear and refreshing- about the same temperature as it is in Los Angeles. Beautiful clouds escorted us back to the hotel, and we ate dinner (eating again!?) at a local pizzeria that had a very nice garden in back where we could be silly and loud without bothering anyone. Very nice day. Again!

I found a ready made faux kit on the beach with brush, feather, and sponge. Let's marbleize something!

Day 5-6 Post Salon Post

The Salon has officially ended as of yesterday (written two days ago- I have some catching up to do!), but today we are squeezing every last drop out of our hosts Stefano and Caterina by taking advantage of their planning to do some organized sightseeing to places I guarantee we never would have made it to on our own. Today about 60 of us piled into a bus (something I rarely do!) and we went down to the Adriatic coast, close enough to Armenia to see it across the water!

A final demonstration by Stefano Luca in the courtyard. I ended up being the model for it because I have glasses (and so did his design. Improvisation in action!

But first I should wrap up the Salon. Reminds me of an old perspective drawing lesson. The student asks, "How do you draw an elephant in perspective?" To which the teacher responds, "Easy, just draw the box the elephant came in!" Thus I will attempt to give some perspective on this monumental event by describing a few of the details and organization that stand out to me. It will still only be the box the elephant came in, but at least it will be a start!

I did so much talking and visiting (and a bit of work on the collaborative mural) that I hardly did anything on my demo panel, which was supposed to be a design for a border on my exhibition panel. Oh well, I'll finish it at home, where I can concentrate.

Despite it's being my first experience of the Salon, I have been aware of it for several years, and have made friends with a number of participants through seeing their work on Facebook and elsewhere. It felt like a homecoming to meet them in person, and I felt welcomed by all, especially our hosts, who put out an insane amount of energy and effort to make this a truly stupendous event. Despite a few bumps in the road (some stolen brushes, some dirty bathrooms- none of which was their fault) the venue was fantastic, the organization was amazingly good, and I think everyone involved felt truly grateful to have been a part. My wife Marianne came with me to Lecce thinking she would probably skip out on her own to do more sightseeing and touring, but ended up staying for every minute of every day to see the progress on individual panels, the group mural, and the incredible demos.

Candlelit entry to the castle where we had the closing ceremony for the conference. Stefano and Caterina have set the bar much too high for anyone else to follow!!

The closing dinner was held in a castle- not a Disney castle, but the real thing, with a romantic candle lit rooftop garden and a vaulted hall that held all of the 100 or so people that were involved. Fabulous food and drink were a part of every day here, and I think we sampled almost every Southern Italian dish that exists, much of which was seafood, which didn't bother me at all! Today on the second day of the post- Salon event we ate more seafood than I have ever encountered in one meal, in the lovely sleepy port town of Gallipoli, on the Ionian sea. More about that tomorrow.

The Sea Cave of "Zinzulusa", or "Drying Laundry" in the local dialect. 

Back to our first day of post-salon activities; after riding in the bus for an hour or so to the south east tip of the heel of the boot, we were first treated to a boat ride into some sea caves- sort of a mini-version of the Blue Grotto at Capri, but maybe less touristy and therefore more fun. There was also a walking tour of another cave that had some pretty impressive stalactite and stalagmite formations.  In a local dialect that reflects the Greek heritage of the area, they call it the "Cave of the Dirty Laundry" because the swallows' nests built on the hanging formations at the mouth of the cave reminded the sailors of drying clothes hanging out to dry.

In the area of Santa Cesarea Terme is this amazing rockwork that is part natural, part manmade.

 Then we hopped back on the bus and drove past some really beautiful coastline areas, pausing for 5 minutes at an ancient Roman bridge that is right on the coast, near some thermal baths. At the town of Otranto we were treated to our first lunch spectacular- I don't know how on earth they kept the price of our day trips so low- $40- considering the food and drink on top of the bus ride. Had a nice post-prandial swim in the harbor there and toured a church that has one of the largest mosaic floors I've ever seen- a tree of life.

A bridal party walking through the streets of Otranto

Then it was back to the hotel and a simple dinner in town, collapsing so that Marianne could leave the next morning.