Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Venice and the Desire for an Escape

Venice exists in the modern world as a sort of fantastical utopia, a place of decaying beauty and elegant tradition. Throughout history, Venice has always been a bit of an enigma, and because of her mystery and intrigue she has seduced many to explore her twisting calles and sparkling canals. Venice is directly related to a desire to escape, in one way or another, from one’s normal existence.

Through the centuries Venice has been represented in many different ways, from serene and pure to erotic and overly sexualized, the image of the city has morphed throughout history. In the 1700’s, Casanova perpetuated the myth of the sexual, erotic Venice as a playground for sexual escapades and an escape from the confines of societal expectations. The Carnevale and the corresponding Carnevale masks helped to satisfy this longing for an erotic escape through disguising one’s true identity and serving as a tangible representation of mischief and desire. Venice becomes a symbol for the erotic and secular, steering away from the purity it represented in earlier times. Various artworks hype up this idea of the Carneval-esque Venice, including Pietro Falca’s piece “The Ridotto in Venice.” The aristocracy, encumbered by manners and societal rules, were particular fond of these masks as a means of escape. In his memoirs “History of My Life”, Casanova describes an experience at the Carnevale where he and his comrades were “rambling about together with our masks on, in quest of some new sort of mischief to amuse us.” Casanova’s experience excellently displays the reason why the Carnevale masks were so appealing and the sort of behavior that resulted from wearing the mask. The masks allowed one to be playful, ill-behaved and vulgar and promoted activities of mischief and scandal. The Carnevale served as a breeding ground for the mischief of the aristocracy. With their identity concealed, these normally well-mannered individuals could let loose and act inappropriately. I myself have experienced the enchanting spell of the mask, wearing a Venetian Carnevale for Halloween earlier this year. Throughout the evening I met numerous persons who kept exclaiming “I’ll never be able to recognize you after tonight without your mask!” I had never thought my disguise shrouded my appearance so well, but after hearing this I was overcome with a sort of power that I could be anyone and do anything because of my mask. While I in no way played up this luxury as the Venetian aristocrats and Casanova once did, I did better understand the captivating power of the mask and the fresh identity it bestows upon the wearer.

The courtesans of Veronica Franco’s time were also influential in promoting this idea of Venice as a highly sexualized and erotic escape. The courtesans became a symbol for the erotic Venice, seducing and allowing men to carry out their wildest fantasies. They represented men’s desire and longing for sexual freedom and erotic play. Venice, along with her courtesans, served as an escape from the mundane and normal. In Margaret Rosenthal’s piece “The Honest Courtesan,” she discusses Fynes Moryson’s, an author and sociologist of the 16th century, belief that the demand for Venetian courtesans was “not merely a product of the republic’s sexual license but rather was tied to the repressed physical desires or young or married men” (pg.21). This further supports the idea that the courtesans acted as a tool for men to satisfy their sexual desire. In his piece “Itinerary Containing his Ten Yeeres of Travel” Moryson wrote that all types of men are fueled “with fierce affections to forbidden lusts” (Rosenthal, pg. 21), describing men’s longing for an erotic escape. Because of these two entities, the Carnevale and the Venetian courtesans, Venice became a place to escape into a world of sexual debauchery and fanaticism.

Tourists often come to Venice with a different desire, a longing to escape into a piece of the past and a fantasy world. Many come to Venice longing for an escape from the modern world, hoping to lose themselves in the charming calles and enchanting nature of the city. Venice supports this type of longing for the glory of the past that exists so frequently in our modern world. Much like the Venetians longed for the glory of ancient Rome, tourists come to Venice longing to return to the glorious past in this ancient city. Venice is truly a slice of the past, a Disneyland-esqe landscape that plays on the fancies of the traveler- the gondola, Carnevale masks, and meandering canals all lure travelers into the magical world of Venice. This image of Venice as a glorious piece of the past coincides with the Venice often displayed on postcards and in the modern media. However, this image displays a city that is in essence no longer real, but rather a fantasy land satisfying the desires of tourists. According to ABC News, there are less than 60,000 Venetians living in the city and an average of 150,000 visiting tourists a day. These statistics demonstrate the shift of Venice from a real to imagined community. Venice now simply exists for the tourists, and because of these rampant creatures the business focus in the city is predominately on tourism. The city has ultimately transformed itself into the type of city tourists dream of and cater to the desires of these visitors. However, although visitors long to escape to a piece of the past and fantasy world when traveling to Venice, like E.H. Gombrich, they still “want the frame to be there” (Art and Illusion, pg.279), reminding them of the illusion before them. Tourists understand that Venice is not real and is not an example of the modern world; if it was considered the modern world they would not come for such an escape. Venice is not, and cannot be because of the rampant tourists, a real place. It is imagined, it simply exists to carry out tourist fantasies of longing and escape.

Venice supports a longing and desire to escape in multiple ways. From an escape into a fantasy world, a piece of the past or into sexual liberation, Venice serves as a canvas for these fantasies and quells this longing

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Guidebooks and Fanny Packs: The Identity of the Modern Tourist

We recently read a socio-anthropological essay by Clifford Geertz that deciphered and analyzed the politics of Balinese cockfights. After reading this essay, I began to think about the tourist as a socio-anthropological subject. According the American Heritage Dictionary (4th ed), a tourist is defined as “a person who is traveling, especially for pleasure.” I find this definition to be rather vague and extremely superficial. What is the deeper meaning behind being a tourist, and what are the politics of such a title? I attempted to explore this idea, using my own experience as a tourist as a focus for the study.


To begin, what exactly is a tourist? The definition implies that anyone who is traveling can be placed into this category, but I do not believe this is the case. In their essay entitled “Touring Cultures: Transformation of Travel and Theory,” Rojek and Urry further explore the meaning of a tourist, even questioning if such an entity exist. While the authors do supply the typical definition of tourism as “involving stays of more than four nights and less than one year,” they also agree that this is vague definition that does not explain much about the real desire of the tourist. They also identify the various types of tourism, including day-tripping, culture and excursion. I believe that this acknowledging of the differences among tourists is the catalyst for further exploring the idea. All tourists, in my mind, are unique in their quests. Some wish to discover freedom from the daily grind and experience a new way of life, some long to explore the vast unknown of exotic and foreign places, and some simply travel to visit sights that are of specific interest to them. Therefore, I think it is impossible to squeeze all that it means to be a tourist into a small definition. Tourism, as acknowledged by the authors, is a profound subject that deserves much examination and therefore cannot be satisfied by a measly definition. Many times, society and the media depict tourists with guidebooks, fanny packs, a constantly flashing camera, and a constant look of awe on their faces. However, as we have already discovered, not all tourists fit into this narrow category.


Tourism and the idea of the tourist is an excellent breeding ground for Goffman’s idea of a “focused gathering” that Geertz defines in his essay. Many times, tourists are grouped together in a common activity, such as standing in the square gazing at the Basilica di San Marco, and are relating to one another in terms of this action. They are preoccupied with their common flow, acknowledging one another simply to share guidebooks or ask to get their picture taken. They come together to share a common experience and would likely never have met without the focused gathering to unite them. In my travels abroad, I’ve met many individuals from various cities that I have met only through being a tourist. My identity as a tourist has connected me to these individuals, who I usually meet at the hostel I am staying at. Hostels are strictly designed for tourists and many times offer group outings and activities which I often participate in with fellow travelers. These persons and I have come together through this common activity, together experiencing the beauty of Barcelona or the vibrant London nightlife, only to depart in our different directions with only that moment in time, the focused gathering, to define us and our relationship.



Being a tourist is like being a cultural voyeur, gazing down at another culture with a subjective view. It is easier to see a culture from the outside, including the strange traditions that define it. A tourist is hyper-aware of the culture being that they have others, or at least one another culture, to compare it to. Many times, tourists define their travels by the differences they discover. For example, when I traveled to Barcelona I noticed that nearly everyone smoked and there were not any restaurants or bars that had designated non-smoking areas. Obviously, this is drastically different than the United States, where there is typically a non-smoking area and many parts of the country that are no longer allowing smoking in any restaurants or bars. I immediately noticed this difference while visiting Barcelona and quickly defined the city as a smoking one, which I later found out to be exceedingly true (70% of Barcelona smokes!). As a tourist, it is common to notice that differences between other cultures and your own, and often a tourist remains more sensitive to these differences than the locals of the culture they are visiting, who consider this difference to be simply a part of their daily lives.


There are many rules, or perhaps more properly termed expectations, that going along with being a tourist that our society has deemed. The first of these is that tourists are expected to visit the crucial landmarks and sights while traveling. This is one expectation that I have found to be increasingly annoying during my travels. I have discovered that I enjoy picking several places to visit and spending a great deal of time exploring them, many times places that are off the beaten path of tourist activity, rather than simply rushing through all the major attractions. For example, when I visited Paris I had so many art museums and specific sights that I wanted to see that interested me, but might not have been to interest to others, that I did not even visit the Eiffel Tower because I was simply too busy. I saw that tower from far away and that was all I needed. I did not want to simply see the sights that all the guidebooks told me “not to miss!” but instead I longed to see what interested me and get a true taste for the French culture. For me, it was not important to stand beneath the steel structure and gaze upon it when I had numerous other, and in my opinion more interesting, sights to see. However, when I returned from Paris everyone asked me “Did you see the Eiffel Tower?” or “Why don’t you have a picture with the Eiffel Tower?” I felt discouraged, like I had in some way failed at being a tourist while in reality I had experienced the city in exactly the way I had wanted.




Another common expectation of tourists is that they are willing to spend money, and often a great deal of it. Travel souvenirs are often quite pricey simply because tourists, as simply passersbys, want to quickly snag a piece of the place they are visiting before they move on. Many businesses cater to tourists, raising their prices because they know tourists will be willing to pay. In Venice, for example, the gondolas are very expensive because they are strictly catered to tourists who want the complete Venetian experience and are willing to splurge for such. Tourists are expected to be in these strictly defined areas and not at the local restaurants and cafes that are off the beaten path. These businesses are often quite rude to tourists simply because they do not belong. Therefore, a specific space is commonly designated for tourists in every city and it is expected that tourists stick to these spaces. Along with this expectation of tourists emerges another: the expectation that tourists need to collect souvenirs or mementos from their travels, rather it be in the form of photographs, postcards or t-shirts. It is expected that tourists came home with a piece of the place they traveled to- a tangible memory to share with others. While traveling overseas, I have followed these guidelines being that I enjoy collecting souvenirs and snapping photos, and I am excited to share there with my loved ones when I return. I feel also as though I am supposed to have pictures to display of my travels, and even for myself, I want to have something to remember Europe by. A fourth expectation of tourists is that they are ignorant and essentially culturally-dumb to the cultural they are visiting. Guidebooks were essentially created to counter the ignorance of tourists- they are not designed for those who know about the city, but instead for those who are uninformed about the city they are visiting. Tourists are not expected to know the language, have knowledge of the specific geography of the city or where things are located, or be aware of dangers such as pickpocketers. In many places I’ve visited, I attempt to speak the language only to be answered in English. I am not expected to try to speak the local dialect; I am simply treated as a tourist and not part of the actual culture. Tourists are expected to have to ask for directions, and pickpockets prey on these distracted tourists who are too dumbfounded by their city map to notice their wallet getting stolen. I attempt to defy these expectations while traveling, by attempting to speak the language and being hyper aware of pickpockets (which I did see several of in Barcelona). These are just several examples of the expectations of tourists created by society.


In conclusion, a tourist cannot be simply constructed into a stereotype and also cannot be expected to satisfy the societal expectations of what a tourist should be or do. There are many different types of tourists, from the romantic to the collective, and the desires and reasons for traveling vary with these individuals. I have had many personal experiences with being stereotyped into the “typical tourist” and I believe it is crucial to not view tourism in such a close minded way. The culture of tourism is a diverse plethora of individuals who may share some commonalities, such as their focused gathering, but ultimately differ in their internal motivations and external actions.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Famiglia and Mates- Venice vs. London

Having been in Europe for six weeks now, I’ve had the opportunity to travel to several different countries and experience a plethora of diverse cultures. Although Europe sometimes tends to be grouped as one mega culture, I’ve come to find that the European countries all have their own unique subcultures which are, in reality, quite drastic from one another. Venice and London are two cities that I’ve had a chance to explore during my stay in Europe. Although the cities share several similarities, the differences between the two cultures are extremely interesting and deserve deeper analysis.

The first thing I noticed when I arrived in London two weeks ago, hungry and ready for my first English meal, was that it was nearly impossible to get dinner at any restaurant or pub after 9:00 at night. As I later learned from talking to the locals, unless you want fast food, you eat before 9:00. As the owner of a local pub told me as I eagerly searched for dinner, “Nothing is open at this time!” The British enjoy going out to the pubs immediately after work to grab a drink with co-workers and friends. This is a stark contrast to Italy, where dinner typically occurs between 7:30-9:00 pm. In London everyone heads out to the pubs around 5:00 or 6:00 to drink and heads home around 9:00 or 10:00. While making my way to a pub at 10:00 in London I found that the place was clearing out and the pubs typically closed by 11:00. However, in Italy many of the bars and nightclubs do not even become crowed until nearly 11:00. When visiting Milan, I had my first experience at an Italian nightclub and found that the club did not become crowded until nearly midnight. The alcoholic beverage of choice is also different in these two countries. In Italy, wine and spritzas are two popular choices, while in England beer and hard cider are the norm.

Another difference noted between these two countries was the attitude towards family. Being that I only spent a weekend in London, I have a very superficial perception of the culture; however, from my observation, London seemed to strongly value friendships while Italy places family at the crux of their culture. In Venice, many businesses close down for a lunch break so that families can be together for several hours in the afternoon. In London, this tradition did not persist and I found a larger focus to be on the “mates,” the English slang for friends, over family. I viewed multiple advertisements around town, especially in the metros, referring to “mates.” As I already mentioned, going out for drinks after work with coworkers and friends is an important tradition in London.

Public transport exists in both London and Venice, however differs greatly between the two cultures. In London, the “Underground” is the term for the metro that zips Londoners around town. It serves as a way to get to and from work, the airport, or simply around the city. However, because there are vehicles and roads in the city, many Londoners also have cars and the metro serves as more a secondary form of transportation. In Venice, however, there is an absence of cars and therefore the whole dynamics of public transport is very unique. The vaporetto, or Venetian water bus, is the primary form of transportation for Venetians. The politics and rules surrounding these forms of public transport differ greatly, although there are some similarities. Both the Underground and vaporetto are not designed as social places but simply places to be “in your own world” and do your business (reading the paper, listening to music, zone out or even sleep). However, in Venice you are expected to stand up well before your stop and head towards the exit, while the Londoners take it slower and prefer to wait for the last moment to head towards the exit. The Venetians seem to be a very rushed culture as opposed to the Londoners, as I have many times gotten “Permesso!” shouted in my ear for not moving off the vaporetto quick enough.

Venice and London, both vibrant European cultures, are simply one example of how not all European cultures are alike. Although they share a continent, they are unique in many aspects, which only makes the experience of traveling so much more enjoyable!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The Vaporetto: A Symbol of Venice

In Clifford Geertz’s socio-anthropological analysis of Balinese cockfights, entitled “Deep Play,” he mentions the term “focused gatherings.” The term was originally defined by Erving Goffman as a “set of persons engrossed in a common flow of activity and relating to one another in terms of that flow” (Geertz, pg.7). Focused gatherings are a unique component to the modern world, exemplifying the impersonal nature that has come to define many of our daily activities. As an individual living in Venice with a strange identity of more than a passing tourist but without being a true Venetian, I have had the opportunity to explore the Venetian culture and the daily activities that occur in the narrow calles of the beautiful city. One activity that I have become quite accustomed with is riding the vaporetto. The vaporetto is the water bus that travels throughout Venice, functioning virtually as the main form of transportation in the city. Venice is unique in its absence of motorized vehicles in the streets, therefore for both Venetians and tourists alike, the vaporetto is utilized as the main mode of transportation aroud he city. The vaporetto serves as a space for the focused gathering discussed by Goffman because it houses a set of activities that are in complete synchronicity with the space around them. The persons on the vaporetto are interacting with one another simply in terms of the “flow” that Goffman describes. The passengers are constantly changing and coming together simply to share a common activity. Their actions are defined by the space around them- a space that dictates a specific set of rules and behaviors.

The vaporetto is not simply a vessel of transportation for Venetians; it is a heterotopia of social dynamism. There are unspoken guidelines and rules for the vaporetto that you will not find inscribed on any signs, however are simply inherent to Venetians and regular travelers, and often overlooked by tourists. When I first arrived in Venice I was, like many visitors, naïve of these social guidelines and only now after much experience am I beginning to understand them. Here are the unspoken guidelines for the vaporetto that I have discovered: When waiting to enter the vaporetti, a mass forms, rather than a line, where it is perfectly acceptable to push your way to the front, virtually “cutting” the others. Once on the boat, it is acceptable to sit in the seats reserved for the handicap, pregnant women or elderly- however, it is expected that as soon as one of these persons enters the vaporetto you will relinquish your seat. The vaporetto is not a social atmosphere that fosters friendships; therefore you are not expected to make small talk with anyone around you. Personal space does not exist on the vaporetto, and it is common to have someone’s arm in your face or a person bumping into you the entire ride. When exiting the vaporetto, you should stand up and make your way to the exit before the boat has come to a stop. If you stand up and do not swiftly work your way towards the front as the boat is beginning to slow down, expect to get shoved out of the way by a hasty Venetian muttering “Permesso.” The persons riding the water bus vary and the water bus is utilized by all sorts of individuals. As the main form of public transportation in the city, and one could argue more important transportation vessel that you would find in other cities because of Venice’s absence of cars, the vaporetto neutralizes social status and places all passengers on the same level. In other societies, vehicles such as cars represent social status; however Venice is absent of these vehicles. Although residents do sometimes own private boats, the vaporetto is the main public transportation around the city and therefore is utilized by virtually everyone because of its convenience and efficiency.

Not only does the vaporetto house focused gatherings that are imbued with a set of unique guidelines, it also serves as a space that connects sites in Venice to one another. In Michel Foucault’s essay “Of Other Spaces,” he describes our modern era as one where “space takes for us the form of relation among sites” (pg. 23). The vaporetto exemplifies Foucault’s idea of contemporary space as a bond that affixes sites together. The vaporetto as a space can also be analyzed in terms of its openness. The vaporetto is used for public transportation and therefore, unlike cars or personal vehicles, while riding the vaporetto all of your personal actions are constantly on display. The city of Venice as a whole is a very public space that promotes openness. Because of the pedestrian nature of the city, it is common to feel as though you are always on display. The canals weave throughout the city and often run right next to private residences. This is a complete contrast to the idea of neighborhoods where houses are sheltered from the outside world in a protected, private sphere. The concealment provided by a private vehicle is absent on the vaporetto, and therefore the boat serves a space where private actions are many times publically displayed. One interesting experience I had on the vaporetto occurred while standing next to a young couple. The two were tightly embracing and intimately kissing the entire ride. I was uncomfortable and taken aback by their actions; however others around me did not seem fazed at all. Additionally, cell phone calls commonly occur on the vaporetto and private conversations are held for others to hear. I conclude that because the sphere of travel is so naturally public in Venice, Venetians and others frequently utilizing the vaporetto are used to performing their private actions in a public space.

The vaporetto not only serves a functional purpose for the Venetians but also speaks to the culture of the city. The vaporetto exemplifies Venice’s complex relationship with water. The surrounding lagoon and Adriatic Sea serve a dual role as Venice’s barrier and gateway to the outside world. The canals that flow through the city both divide and connect the segments of the city. The vaporetto both exemplifies and serves as a tangible manifestation of this relationship between Venice and water. The interplay between the vaporetto and the city is fundamental to understanding the nature of Venice and the Venetian identity.

The vaporetto serves as both a transportation device and a symbol of Venice. The complex social guidelines surrounding the vaporetto speak to the Venetian culture while the space inside the vaporetto fosters the type of focused gathering discussed by Goffman. The vaporetto itself represents the character and personality of Venice and therefore acts as an important gateway to better understanding the Venetian culture.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

The Quest for the Real



Last week I ventured to the mysterious city of Padova for a class trip. I refer to it as mysterious because I had no idea what to expect prior to visiting the city. Like a child preparing for a trip to Disneyland, I had grandeur visions of the Padova: meandering, quaint streets, inhabited by slow-moving Italians living a peaceful, quiet existence (which overall seems to be a common stereotypical perception of Italy in general, with the exception of the bustling and lively city of Rome). Needless to say, I should have done my research!

From the moment we emerged in Padova and witnessed the vibrant student population and fast-moving metropolitan life pulsating through the city, I realized that the city had, in a single instant, defied my expectations. Padova is a peculiar city, a melting pot of the past and present, much like the city of Venice. Upon entering the Padova, the urban culture immediately springs upon you, much like the large-scale advertisements do in Venice. However after wandering about Padova for a while, I found myself consistently thrust into what seemed like scenes from a landscape painting or children’s fairy tale. Beautiful parks sparkling with the ruins of the past and quaint walkways through green grass and autumn-colored trees contrast with the urban nature of the city, yet seem to fit perfectly and beautifully into the Padova puzzle.

Our day consisted of many adventures, including examining the great artwork of Titian and exploring the other various religious art of the city. We also toured the University of Padova, where we viewed the famous Anatomy Theater where dissections used to occur. While all these adventures were enjoyable, my favorite part of the day was the visit to the Scrovegni Chapel. As an art history scholar, I’ve taken numerous art history courses throughout the past few years. I remember studying Giotto’s “Lamentation” in my very first art history course in high school and being immediately awestruck by the piece. The vivid blue utilized by Giotto is undeniably gorgeous, and the photographs in textbooks do little justice to the true beauty of the piece. Throughout my studies in college, I’ve analyzed the “Lamentation” numerous times, discussing the effect of the harsh diagonal that dominates the piece and directs the eye of the viewer to Christ. The highly emotional figures are typical of Giotto and convey the drama of the piece. The interplay between the angels in the sky and the figures on the ground is fascinating and highlights the Gothic shift towards the Renaissance.

To say I was excited to witness the work firsthand was an understatement.

When I entered the chapel, I initially was fascinated by the starry sky that decorates the ceiling and the sheer quantity of frescos decorating the walls. As I scanned the room, carefully reading Giotto’s narrative that he so wonderfully displays in his artwork, my eyes hit the “Lamentation” and I smiled- I had found my treasure. As an art history scholar and art enthusiast, it has been such a powerful experience time and time again to view works up close and personal that I’ve previously studied. While studying art from a textbook, there is always an absence of the real. Viewing a copy of art, for some, may be just like viewing the original. After all, through a copy of a work it is still possible to witness the same artistic elements- the subject, the colors, the brushstrokes, etc. However, it is my belief that the true essence of the piece can only be understood while looking at the original. The emotion that flows through the brushstrokes out of the piece, the vivid color that can only truly be witnessed in person, the relationship that the viewer forms with the artist through the personal viewing- these are the effects of viewing a work “in real life.” The mechanics of a work simply cannot be fully expressed in a copy. This experience got me thinking- Why is it that we have such a strong desire for “the real?”

To explore this question, I analyzed our modern culture in the United States. Through doing so, I discovered many ties to women and our society’s obsession with “the real.” While our culture in many ways promotes makeup and plastic surgery to beautify woman, the definition of true beauty in our society is “natural beauty.” Models, celebrities, and beautiful women in general are constantly being prodded and picked at by the media and our general culture to discover if they have had plastic surgery, something that is looked down upon as being “fake.” The girl next door (the natural beautify, full of integrity), also commonly referred to as the All-American girl, is a persona that is highly praised in our society. Young women (and never men) are also commonly referred to as being fake in their relationships with other women, pretending they like one another when they truly do not. I remember a comedian who came to Boiler Gold Rush at Purdue two years ago and cracked a joke about this very issue by pretending to be an enthusiastic female college student waving to another female and shouting “Hey Girl!!! What’s up!!!”, only to quietly whisper to himself a moment later, “You whore!”

The focus on “the real” in our culture does not simply relate to women. Our society, both historically and in the modern era, cherishes values such as honesty and integrity- values which essentially oppose “the fake.” The political candidates of our society often slander their opponents by referring to them as liars, while at the same time emphasizing their own honesty.

Through this brief analysis, I believe the answer to my question is simply that our society has influenced us to value truth. Although I did not explore other cultures, I think it is fair to say that all cultures share this emphasis on honesty and truth; therefore, this inclination towards “the real” is what makes us inherently human. As human beings, we are fascinated by the real and live our lives in a way as a “quest for the real.” I believe this is why seeing an artwork in person is such a powerful experience. Simply because I’m human, I hold a desire to see the “real thing,” and I look forward to satisfying this desire in the weeks to come.