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(VENICE, ITALY) Sir Elton John's performance in Piazza San Marco on Wednesday night, July 9th, makes you understand why he was knighted. He played with a quiet nobility that radiated enormous power. He was not flamboyant. He let his music do the talking, and when he spoke, his words were simple and dignified.

Napoleon is often credited with calling Piazza San Marco "the drawing room of Europe," but Wikipedia informs us that perhaps it should be attributed to Alfred de Musset (and you know how nitpicky those Wikipedia people can be:). In any event, whoever said it, the atmosphere was exactly like that: as if we were in a grand drawing room, and Sir Elton John was entertaining his guests.

The show was sold out, and to be honest, I didn't make any effort to go, but a friend called and offered a pass at the last moment. So, of course, I went! The pass allowed me to wander everywhere, and I found myself fortunate enough to land in about the tenth row, with an unobstructed view, sitting next to Carl Pagan, from the Casino di Venezia -- which happens to be the oldest casino in the world, and accounts for about 40% of Venice's income. So, of course, during the show, in the pauses between songs, I harangued Carlo about various problems around town. Poor Carlo! Just when he thinks he can relax during an Elton John concert, he finds himself sitting next to Cat Bauer!

To his credit, he hung in there and listened. So, who knows what the future many bring:)

Elton sang hit after hit after hit. It seems impossible for one human being to have so many hits, but he has them. We have grown up with Elton; Elton is always there. We have suffered with him. We have rejoiced with him. We have tried to kill him, but he did not die. The Queen has knighted him for his grand endurance and now we embrace him and ask him to do charity shows.

Elton performed this concert on behalf of SMS, which is a clever acronym for "San Marco Square" and "Short Message System." Elton raised money to fix up San Marco Square. Now, we can be sure that Elton does not have to do this. So, why would he? Well, he lives here. And I will judge by the few words he used to introduce the last song, "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me," that he cares.

He said, "This is dedicated to everyone who likes to live in Venice," or something to that effect. But it was weary, serious, profound. We are all very tired these days over here in the Magic Kingdom, as are most people with souls throughout the world. And then he sang, "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me." If you have ever had the Sun go down on you, and most of us have, you will understand. I think Bernie Taupin is one of our greatest lyricists. Elton would not be Elton without Bernie's words:

I can't light no more of your darkness
All my pictures seem to fade to black and white
I'm growing tired and time stands still before me
Frozen here on the ladder of my life

Too late to save myself from falling
I took a chance and changed your way of life
But you misread my meaning when I met you
Closed the door and left me blinded by the light

Don't let the sun go down on me
Although I search myself, it's always someone else I see
I'd just allow a fragment of your life to wander free
But losing everything is like the sun going down on me

I can't find, oh the right romantic line
But see me once and see the way I feel
Don't discard me just because you think I mean you harm
But these cuts I have they need love to help them heal

I wish I had some photos, but I always have to depend upon photographers, and they do not always come through, and there are, surprisingly, slim pickings on the net (none of the photos I am using are from the actual show). The last camera I had was destroyed during Carnevale two years ago by Red Wine within a week after purchase. The shop where I bought it in Venice sent it back to the dealer in Milano, without a reason, and the Milano shop wrote back: WE HAVE EXAMINED THIS CAMERA, AND IT WAS DESTROYED BY RED WINE. THEREFORE, WE DO NOT UPHOLD OUR WARRANTY. And, they were right! It WAS destroyed by Red Wine, but not by drunkenness -- it was because I dropped my shopping bag, and the camera was in the bag with the red wine -- there are witnesses! The Venice shop told the Milan shop, "Well, after all, it IS Carnevale."

If you can understand that story, you will understand part of the reason why Venice is sad -- so many people from Milano (and other places) have bought apartments here for profit, caring only about the money, and nothing about the Soul of Venice. If someone from Milano sent a camera back to Venice destroyed by Red Wine, the Venetians would laugh and say, "Well, THAT'S a good reason! It's Carnevale, after all. Give them another!"

Here is a video of Elton singing "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me" -- from long ago, not from the other night, but you get the picture (YouTube wouldn't let me take anything else). His voice is battle-worn now, and his hair is grey, but his scars become him. He looks better than ever. How amazing one song can be! It united us all! There were lighters lit, and we All Became One. When the people chanted his name, it sounded like this: "Eel-ton! Eel-ton!"

Thank you, Elton, for adding your great voice to the song of Venice.

Ciao from Venice,
Cat

The Circolo Fotografico La Gondola invited me to hear Professor Bruno Rosada speak about "Benedetto Croce and Italian Art of the 20th Century" on Friday night, and a very strange thing happened. I understood the lecture! Usually, I start to fade when people go on and on in Italian. It's hard enough to listen to a lecture, let alone in another language. But, this time, I didn't even have to force myself. It's as if all the words tumbled suddenly into place, and I thought, my god, after all these years, I finally understand Italian! The moment you realize you understand another language, it is something divine.

I've always loved philosophy. I started reading Nietzsche when I was fourteen-years-old, and even though I brag about never going to university, I actually did go to a strange college for a semester after I graduated high school, and majored in philosophy, with a minor in art. (After that, I decided to teach myself because the commute was too difficult; my mother had promised me the use of the family car, but then reneged, so I had to hitchhike to college!)

I won't go into all the details of the lecture, but what really interested me was when Professor Rosada spoke about how he felt at an exhibit of the artist Mario de Luigi, who was the father of a friend of mine, Ludovico de Luigi. Professor Rosada said he finally realized how art broke away from the figurative when he saw Mario de Luigi's work. Now, I am very outspoken about how artists must be able to create human beings. To me, it is essential. I would make a rule that all artists have to put their human beings next to their out-of-space projections, just so I know they can do if they want to. Like writers. These days, everyone has a blog; everyone has a digital camera; everyone is a writer; everyone is a photographer.

But, if I want to, I can write grammatically correct English (and I have put up an example under the blog "Church of San Francesco della Vigna" http://venetiancat.blogspot.com/2008/02/church-of-san-francesco-della-vigna.html.) To me, you must first learn the rules to break the rules (and I break a ton of rules -- it makes the copy editors crazy), but many people in the arts today are taking other people's broken rules and starting from there, without learning the foundation. So, today we have art built on broken rules that are not understood, only imitated.

I went with Ludovico and the rest of the family to see his late father's exhibit in Treviso last year, and I was completely blown away about how brilliant Mario de Luigi was. I had the same experience that Professor Rosada described -- ah, ha! So, that's it!

Anyway, on my way to the lecture, I'd noticed a new restaurant, and this was my reaction:

How cool is this?
It's about time someone put a hip restaurant out on Giudecca.
I would make a trip to come out here to eat at this place; it would be fun.
Wait, a second, I think I know the owner.
I think this is Simone's place.

I went inside. I asked, "Is Simone the owner?" They said, "Yes!" They said they would call him, but I said I would stop back later, which I did.

Simone is a very old friend of mine, even though he is very young. We don't see each other often, but when we do, we always have a profound conversation. He had told me about this project a while back, and now, here it was in reality, called "i figli delle stelle" which means, "Children of the Stars." And that, basically, says it all.

Simone has acquired a new sophistication, which comes with the job. We sat in the back room on a sofa and spoke. I talked about all the problems over in my neck of the woods, at Rialto; I told him I was worn down. Simone said, "Cat. In Italy, in Venice, every bad thing has an equal positive result. For every bad thing that happens, there is an equal good thing. The problem is that we only hear about the bad, not about the good. Like the newspapers." He also said, "The definition of what is 'Venetian' is changing. My partner, the chef, is from Puglia, but he feels Venice. You feel Venice. I am Venetian, and I feel Venice. A Venetian now is someone who feels Venice, whether they were born here or not."

During the Republic, there was a rule that to really be Venetian you had to have so many generations born in Venice behind you; I can't remember now exactly how many, but I think it was eight. And, these days, many people who were born in Venice come back here and try to stake their claim, when they don't behave like Venetians at all.

After a wonderful glass of wine and conversation, I got on the vaporetto and went back to San Marco. On the street, someone said ciao to me, and it turned out to be Paolo, the son of Sergio Fragiacomo, at Le Bistrot http://venetiancat.blogspot.com/2008/03/le-bistrot-de-venise.html. Sychronicity!

Immediately after that, a woman stopped me. She said, "Do you know remember me?" I said, "Honestly, I'm sorry, but I don't." She said, "We sang 'All You Need is Love' together at Remer." I said, "Oh, of course I remember you!" She is a pianist from Romania. She said, "Now I am playing in Piazza San Marco. Will you come sing it again with me? I sang it just tonight." I said, "Absolutely, when I get back from the mountains." (Just the thought of singing "All You Need is Love" in Piazza San Marco blows my mind.) She had three roses in her hand. She said, "Please take the roses. They gave them to me. I have more at home."

So, I went home with the roses, which I am looking at as I write this. As Simone said, there is good news here in Venice to balance the bad. The most wonderful thing about Venice, to me, is the people who actually live here, and interact with the town.

Ciao from Venice,
Cat

I’m friends on LJ with about a dozen of the 40 women who make up the Girl Friends Cyber Circuit, and who promote each other’s books on their blogs (hm, anyone care to invite me on board if there’s ever an opening?)

Read this New York Times article about the importance of blogs and the blog tour to book marketing, as well as a mention of the Girl Friends Cyber Circuit.





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