Wednesday, December 16, 2020

Controversial Christmas Tree in Venice, 2020 - Digital vs. Real - Why not both?

Venice Gold Plessi Digital Christmas Tree 2020 photo by Cat Bauer
Digital Christmas (2020) by Fabrizio Plessi - Photo: Cat Bauer

(Venice, Italy) There is a debate in Venice about whether or not you like the glowing gold Digital Christmas installation by the international artist Fabrizio Plessi that is currently shimmering in Piazzetta San Marco, made up of more than 80 panels of flowing light. Each river of gold flows in a different direction, symbolically uniting earth, water and sky. 
 
The 80-year-old Plessi was inspired by his deep love of Venice and the gold mosaics that enrich St. Mark's Basilica, which complement his Golden Age waterfalls currently cascading in the windows of the Correr Museum in the heart of Piazza San Marco. (For those not familiar with the geography, the Correr Museum and St. Mark's Basilica bookend Piazza San Marco, so the golden colors perform a celestial dance that arches across the square.) An entire Golden Age installation was also supposed to open last May at Ca' Pesaro, Venice's International Gallery of Modern Art to celebrate Fabrizio Plessi's 80th year, but the global pandemic put a halt to that.
 
Digital Christmas was intended to be a beacon of hope, light and unity but was met with controversy -- some members of the public understandably would have preferred a giant Rockefeller Center-style traditional tree, an old-fashioned Christmas after a year of being stuck at home, bleary from being confined to computer screens.

Fabrizio Plessi - The Golden Age at Correr Museum in September - Photo: Cat Bauer
 
Long before every person on the planet was running around with a smartphone, Plessi worked with electronic media -- as far back as 1968 his artistic focus was on water, which he expressed in film, video installations and performances. The very first time electronic media was shown at a film festival was Plessi's Underwater presented at the Venice Film Festival in 1981. Throughout his long career he has exhibited works throughout the world with titles such as Waterfire, Digital Fall, Digital Islands, Water Fall II, Water Windows, Liquid Labyrinth, Liquid Life, Liquid Light, Splash -- creating liquid electronic images is what Plessi does, so it should be no surprise that he would create Digital Christmas. Like many artists, the 80-year-old Plessi is ahead of his time.

Venice Christmas Tree 2017 - Photo: Cat Bauer
 
Reality is that Venice has not had a real Christmas tree since 2016. I remember in 2017 when the first all-electric light tree arrived in the Piazzetta and immediately blew out all the lights in Piazza San Marco. Many people thought that it was instant karma for inflicting an unnatural tree upon the town.
 
Venice Christmas Tree 2018 - Photo: Cat Bauer
 
In 2018 it was worse: a bunch of blue and white electric light spheres in the shape of a tree that had zero Christmas spirit. The soulless blue tree was not embraced by the public.
 
Venice Christmas Tree 2019 - Photo: Cat Bauer
 
In 2019 it was another electric tree, but this time it was forgivable because Venice had just recovered from the November 12th flood, followed by day upon day of acqua alta. Yet Piazza San Marco had miraculously managed to pull itself together by November 29th with live Christmas carols by Vocal Skyline, a gospel choir that filled the square with hope, humanity and good cheer. Just getting a Christmas tree up last year under extreme circumstances was a sign that Venice could hitch up her skirts and clamber back to her feet.

Venice Gold Plessi Digital Christmas Tree 2020 photo by Cat Bauer
Digital Christmas by Fabrizio Plessi - Photo: Cat Bauer
 
Last week I took an informal survey of the few people who were gathered at the digital tree, taking photos. Everyone was a local because there is basically no one else in Venice right now, and the result was about 20% for and 80% against. One woman told me that Venice is a grande dame, and deserves a grand tree befitting her dignity. A couple from Murano said they liked the installation, but not in Piazza San Marco, and not as the official Christmas tree. The husband said, "We have a great Christmas tree on Murano," and showed me the colorful glass Christmas tree created by the master glass maker Simone Cenedese. Three teen-age girls were taking selfies, and said they did not like it at all and wanted a real tree, basta.  
 
Then I spoke to two little children and asked them if they liked the tree. The boy, who was five-years-old shouted, "Molllllttttooo!!!" which means "very much," but sounded like, "I love it!!!!" and the girl, who was four, sweetly concurred. They seemed fascinated by the cascading gold, each panel traveling in a different direction. An older couple overheard the conversation and said it was because the children were used to digital things, and we are not, which made me wonder if the lockdown has altered their perspective, and now the digital world seems more real to children than the natural world...
 
Real Venice Christmas tree 2016, Piazzetta dei Leoncini - Photo: Cat Bauer

Personally, I think Digital Christmas is inspiring, and thought it was beautiful and compelling to watch. To me, the solution would have been to call it an art installation, not a Christmas tree. Then, in addition, a real Christmas tree could have been brought into Piazzetta dei Leoncini, like the ones we used to have, and everyone in Venice could have been invited -- the artisans, the hotels, the shops, the citizens, the children, the churches, the museums, whoever felt like it -- to create a decoration and drop it off at a designated place so that someone official could hang the ornaments on the tree each day, all the way up to Christmas Eve. 
 
It would have been a lovely group project while everyone is stuck at home, and the children could experience the thrill of seeing their creations on display. Then everyone could gather in Piazza San Marco each evening to see which new ornaments had arrived on the real Christmas tree, with Plessi's Digital Christmas in the Piazzetta and his The Golden Age cascading in the windows of the Correr, the natural world and the digital world uniting to illuminate the entire square.

Maybe next year in 2021, for Venice’s 1600th birthday...

Ciao from Venezia,
Cat Bauer

Tuesday, December 8, 2020

Remembering John Lennon on the 40th Anniversary of his Death

The Imagine Circle in Strawberry Fields, Central Park, New York City

(Venice, Italy) On December 8, 1980, I was living in the West Village in New York, studying theater with Stella Adler, and working part-time as a waitress at a pub called Traders Inn on Hudson Street between West 11th and Bank. I lived right around the corner, and had gotten home about 11:00 PM. My phone rang a little while later. It was my sister calling from New Jersey.

"John Lennon has been shot."

I was stunned. I said, "But he's going to be OK..."

"No," she said. "I don't think so. I think he's dead."

The way the world found out so quickly about John Lennon's murder was by synchronicity -- even at the moment of his death, it seems that John Lennon was destined to be a topic of the entire planet's conversation. On the night of December 8, 1980, a news producer and journalist for ABC Eye Witness News named Alan Weiss had been hit by a taxi while riding his motorcycle, and had been taken to Roosevelt Hospital. Weiss just happened to be on a gurney in the emergency room when a man with bullet wounds was rushed into the room next to his. He thought he heard the name "John Lennon."

Weiss then saw a weeping woman who he thought was Yoko Ono. He got off his gurney and tried to make his way to the pay phone he had seen at the entrance, but was blocked by security. The same police officer who had brought Weiss to the hospital spotted him and told security to let Weiss go.

As the officer was helping Weiss back to his gurney, they passed the nurses' station. Weiss asked the officer if he could call his newsroom. The cop leaned over and picked up the phone that was on the nurses' desk and handed it to Weiss.

The assignment editor at the newsroom confirmed that an ambulance had been dispatched to The Dakota, John Lennon's home, shortly before. That was when Weiss knew for sure that it was John Lennon who had been shot -- sheer coincidence that even at the moment of John Lennon’s death there was a reporter there to record the moment for history.
 
It is difficult to describe the shock that shattered the planet that night. I remember the weather was unusually mild for the month of December. Numb, moving through a world that had suddenly turned surreal, I went back down to the Traders Inn pub and sat at the bar and watched the news. A swarm of New Yorkers rushed to John Lennon's home at The Dakota on 72nd Street and Central Park West, compelled by a common grief. I didn't go uptown that night; I went the next day. It was comforting to be in the company of fellow human beings at the moment the world flipped on its head.
 
Like many people of my generation, I was a huge John Lennon fan. In 1980, living in New York City was like living in paradise. Ed Koch was the mayor, and you could see him all around town, chatting with his constituents. The West Village was brimming with creative people -- everybody was an artist, or an actor, or a writer, or a dancer, or a musician, or a fashion designer.

It seemed like one great festival with comedians in Washington Square Park and Sunday brunch with the New York Times and free copies of the Village Voice. Newly-arrived immigrants would feed us exotic food at funky eateries -- back then, everyone could manage to find a way to live in the city if they were determined enough, with rent-controlled apartments protecting the old-timers.

And John Lennon himself was living on the Upper West Side, strolling around Central Park, finally making music again, posing for the camera wearing a New York City t-shirt. Back then, New York City was the place to be, churning with creative energy.
 
Then four shots rang out and the world would never be the same again. 
 
I've written about December 8th many times before, which is the birthday of my protagonist, Harley Columba, a young artist who was born at Roosevelt Hospital on the anniversary of John Lennon's death, and whose goal is to reach the Imagine Circle in Central Park. John Lennon was my hero, and I was deeply affected by his death, as were so many millions of others. It is also the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, a national holiday here in Italy. Here's a post from last year, with links to previous posts:
 
Ciao from Venezia,
Cat Bauer