Rome in Technicolor

While I was in Rome in the days between 2015 and 2016, I drove through one of the many districts of the city that tourists probably don't get to discover on a 'standard' tour.

The district is known as "Trullo", and the photos below should be more effective than several words in explaining why I took out my camera and went back there later that same day. I only covered the road eponimously called "via del Trullo", yet I suspect that some inner streets and footpaths offer other coloured sights to the stroller.

The first mural that caught my attention while driving: on the left of the drawing there is a poem entitled "Wherever I am".

This truly looks like a breach in a wall, doesn't it?

Another impressive mural!

An example of a smaller mural, where once again drawing and poetry meet.

I like that the drawing seems somewhat out of focus.

This is for anyone who appreciates calligraphy!

Even a 'simple' decoration can be powerful.

As I noticed that the poems that I photographed were signed, I searched for additional information on the web, and discovered that the district has a lively 'poetry scene'. Particularly, the collective called "Poeti der Trullo" has a well-designed website that they update regularly; if you know some Italian, check out http://www.poetidertrullo.it/. I may have also discovered the origin of some of the murals that caught my eye: in October 2015 Trullo hosted the third edition of an international festival of street poetry that included a variety of performances over three days. I wonder if some of the sights that I photographed saw the light at that time? It isn't fully clear from the information that I found online... Whatever the origin, I'm glad that I stumbled upon this colourful, solid cocktail of pictures and words.

A poem...

... split over two roller shutters.

Autumnal hues

Who said that the colours of autumn are restricted to red, yellow and brown?

 A pictorial answer to the question.

Waves made solid

Wow, my last post was in March... Time flies - except that it felt like March, temperature-wise, up to not very long ago.

Never mind...

Here is a very succint post, whose sole purpose is to highlight the following website:
http://www.pierrecarreau.com/

Enjoy the watery geometries!

The lass is back in town

Chimneys, chimneys... And more chimneys. Rigorously red.

Welcome to Jericho! It took me a while to come back to this blog - namely, it took me a busy month of September, a frantic month of October... And a too-fast-to-describe month of November, it seems. Also, moving to a new house with no internet connection (now solved, clearly) did not help. Yet one day - one sunny day, rare and precious! - I took some time off, brought my camera out for a stroll and explored a few streets here in Jericho. The result is in these photos - take a rest and enjoy the autumnal colours!

Close to St. Barnabas Church - I like the way this photo looks like it's B&W... Although it's not! Such a nice contrast of light and shade.

... Would you dare knocking on this door? Behave... Or beware. (*)

When I saw this wall and its bright, intense colours, I thought I had to grab my camera and come back to this spot!

The "Rickety Press" on Cranham Street around 3pm. "Cask ales, fine food" - what else should I say?

I like the way a few leaves stay on some trees (especially on sycamore trees, did you notice it?) - dots-dots-dots.

Ladies and gents, here is Wellington Square in all its glory!

(*) Do you know where the quote "Behave or beware" comes from? If yes, nothing to add - if not, here is the answer: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Nanny_mcphee.jpg. ;)

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light...

This is Berlin - again! This time the photos shown here come from an entirely different source: they were taken at the Buchstaben Museum (http://www.buchstabenmuseum.de/), which is a tiny yet meaningful (and playful) display of... Neon lights - precisely. Except that the point is not their being glowing. The aim of the museum is to preserve and document letterforms, as written on their homepage, as well as to plan "events designed to develop an appreciation for typography and for the items on display".
What I found very interesting is the opportunity to see various "fonts" applied to specific, real-life examples (a fishmonger's shop, a café and so on), with styles and "tricks" that change in time: the three photos below, for instance, the light with the glowing "W" comes from the thirties or the forties, if I am not mistaken. I love the "r" and "t" in the first photo, the way they are linked - it is a very peculiar graphic solution; and I found the "G" in the third picture very smooth and... Gentle.

The remaining two photos were taken with a more "scientific" approach in mind: here one learns how it is actually possible to fabricate such neon lights... Or at least, how this was done up to the invention and success of LEDs, I suppose. It is then almost natural, I think, to realise that this museum and its collection are not only about aesthetics; there is a true interplay of art and science/technology. The perspective might thus change, as a particularly smooth and curly typeface is not only nice to look at, but also likely to have been quite a challenge to produce as the neon light that is displayed right in front of you. :)

I imagine that it did make sense to gradually switch to LEDs - perhaps we (as a civilisation) should even rethink critically this sort of "glittery and 'must be eye-catching' culture of signs and messages".
I believe it is important that places like the Buchstaben Museum exist, because they do act as a "memorandum" of a few examples of virtuous human creativity and ingeniosity, all of which are aspects to respect and treasure.

A note -- While I was visiting the museum I happened to glance at a pile of small leaflets, each one with a big green "M" on it - I took one with me, and discovered this website: http://www.motaitalic.com/. It is not a very easy task to define what "Mota Italic" truly is - it is a gallery/shop in Berlin, but I think it is fair to say that it is mainly a proper type foundry. This means that if you visit their website and fancy one of their typefaces, you can purchase them and start using them when you write a document on your laptop, for example. I then had a relatively extensive look at the website itself: one page that caught my attention was http://www.motaitalic.com/typefoundry/fonts/gemma/rotalics - do not get me wrong, I love standard italics, but this "rotalics" does look interesting, too!

A second note, as important as the first -- If you don't know (or forgot) where the title of this post comes from, I suggest you check this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BvsX03LOMhI. ;) [I am not entirely sure about all the words as they are shown in this video, but most of them seem right to me!]

On remembrance... And communication

In May I went to Berlin for a few days: I had a very pleasant time, and I thought I would now upload some photos that I took while exploring this lively city. Digital cameras are wonderful, but they do make it easy, far too easy to generate photos that rapidly add up to embarrassingly high numbers. For this reason, identifying a theme and selecting the few snapshots related to it seemed a quite reasonable strategy here. :)
The two pictures above show two memorials: the first one is found in the very central Bebelplatz and commemorates the - sadly famous - book burning ceremony that took place in 1933, while the second marks the spot where the body of Rosa Luxemburg was thrown into the Landwehr canal in 1919.
I have always thought that the choice of empty bookcases to remember a book burning episode is very meaningful. Absence is often regarded as a "lack of presence" and thus seen as a negative condition - yet an absence may be as significant as a presence, in a way which turns out to be much more intuitive than one may expect at first. A quote from Heinrich Heine is engraved next to the glass plate: "Where they burn books, they ultimately burn people".
Since I included a quote, why not add another one? This time it is by Rosa Luxemburg: "Freedom is always the freedom of the dissenter [the one who thinks differently]". The paragraph from which this sentence was taken can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosa_Luxemburg.

This collection of concrete slabs of variable height is known as the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. It was, and probably still is, a rather controversial project. I must say, I hesitated before I decided to visit it (also, I didn't go to the museum built - literally - under the memorial): even when I was there, surrounded by these grey blocks, my attention was mainly driven towards the construction itself - namely its spatial, geometrical features: light and shadow, uniformity, contrasts, loss of direction.

A memorial, whatever its form and nature may be, cannot provide a single, well-defined and universally (so to speak) accepted meaning: every individual will react differently to it and will be left with a handful of thoughts and impressions. As much as this may sound as an attempt to undermine the value of such monuments and sculptures, I believe it is not so.
Also, I think that an important aspect is their accessibility: anyone walking around Bebelplatz has a chance to see those white, empty shelves. I guess that a similar attempt to "bring a message to passers-by" has inspired science fairs and festivals organised in public squares, for instance: such initiatives are based on the line "If you don't come look for me, I will make myself almost impossible not to be noticed". The question is then: once you are indeed visible, will you be able to speak clearly, and will both parties understand each other? A sparkle that bursts communication is not overly complicated to generate. The point is: what follows the spark, and how?

An Oxford promenade

I finally managed to scan some photos that I took around town with my camera (yes, one that works with films!) between June and September 2011. Some of them show bits of the city that are now undergoing major changes, which is why I thought it may be interesting to upload them on the blog. :)

One comment: I am not at all sure that the word "promenade" in English can be used in this context - probably not. ;) Here is the trick though: I am referring to the French noun, that indeed means "walk". Languages are amazing.

... Believe it or not.

The British... and milk.

Such a friendly and welcoming (literally!) mural...

I hesitated with this photo - I thought, perhaps I wound't fancy having my children photographed and then appearing online if I were their parents. I hope I didn't make the wrong choice.

On the field #3 - The Harcourt Arboretum

Since I suspect it may be difficult to read what is written on the white board in the photo above, let me add a brief introduction to this post: I took this picture during a recent visit to the "Harcourt Arboretum", which is, as the website explains, "an integral part of the plant collection of the [University of Oxford] Botanic Garden" (http://www.botanic-garden.ox.ac.uk/Harcourt/obg-harcourt-intro.html).

Flowers on an ash tree.

This magnificent estate is located South of Oxford in a small town called Nuneham Courteney; according to the guide who took us around it extends over around 130 acres - about 53 hectares, if you prefer these units. I arrived there at 6pm, and before spotting the white board I had an unexpected and relatively close encounter with a colourful peacock. During the walk we also chanced to see rabbits and deer. This was all very interesting but, needless to say, trees are the true attraction. There are oaks that are thought to be around 300 years old; beautiful ash trees, rowan and hazel trees, cherry and apple trees as well as holly bushes and nettles. Ah! I found out that the latter are delicious food for caterpillars and thus a promising sign towards a season rich in butterflies, too. :)

And then there is the "Bluebell Wood" - words fail me here, to be honest. The wood itself is somptuous; bluebells make it look almost eerie.
I suggest checking the website for a complete list of seminars, walks and workshops that take place both on the main site (on the High Street, just opposite to Magdalen College) and in Nuneham Courteney throughout the year. It is worth it!

Riflessioni e ricordi

I took this picture in 2010 at the "Operngasse" tube station, Vienna.
For more input on pi, I personally find the Wikipedia article (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pi) on this enticing irrational number extremely well done - particularly, the right-hand menu comprises a wonderful animation (much clearer than so many words!) as well as a link to the whole list of Wikipedia entries related to pi. Among these, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronology_of_computation_of_%CF%80 is quite impressive, I think. :)

Look up... And listen

This is my first video with audio - wooow! Although it's a tiny achievement, I am pretty satisfied with the outcome. I took the black and white picture in 2007, while I was visiting my best friend who lived in Ireland at the time. That day we went for a beautiful trip to Glendalough, a site I would recommend for a visit if you happen to be around Dublin (http://www.megalithicireland.com/Glendalough%20Monastic.html). So... Thanks to Lucia and Paul for being my very professional guides. :) The audio comes from a sort-of-experimental recording I made in April 2011 - I was playing around with my bunch of magnet words (French edition!) and came up with this combination of "mots" which I quite liked. Don't ask why, please.

On the field #1 - A performance in central Oxford

Today after lunch I went to Broad Street to have a look at a performance I had read about on the very nice website of Modern Art Oxford - "Musica Practica". For some more official information I would redirect you here: http://www.modernartoxford.org.uk/whats-on/musica-practica/about/

Here are a few photos I took at the beginning of the performance. I must admit, I was probably more interested in how passers-by would react to this unusual presence than in the performance itself. This said, it was fascinating to see how the conductor moved his arms and hands (and sometimes his entire body) - I have always thought that these are very graceful movements. I stayed around for half an hour and saw tourists taking photos as well as "locals" (what does this really mean in a town where there are so many students arriving from almost every part of the planet?) acting as if nothing was happening. Suddenly a man wearing a white shirt stepped in, clearly trying to establish a dialogue with the performer. I suspect that this person is the artist and writer who is mentioned on the website (see above); I am not entirely sure that his entrance was an advisable move. Then I took this photo with the two of them, conductor and spectator (or second performer?), and when I looked again at the picture (here the third one) I thought: this is pretty much how any form of communication or attempt for popularisation of a given topic works. Often the "expert" may be regarded as someone standing on a pedestal - therefore difficult to interact with.

 

Yet here comes a "translator", here represented by the man wearing the white shirt: I can imagine he stepped in to make the meaning of the performance clearer (he would pass in front of the conductor intentionally varying the pace of his walk) and show that communication is possible and successful. "If I open a channel with the conductor then these people who keep on staring at him - without even approaching sometimes - may also start trying to query and engage with the performer."

Of course there is no guarantee of success, just like when one learns a new language; when one attempts at testing their knowledge by interacting with native speakers the comunication may be difficult and at times not very satisfactory. Still it would be such a pity not to try!