False alarm
In Venice sirens wail, when the flood is near. Aqua Alto, to us a unique phenomenon.
We ‘lived’ there for more than a month and experienced this two times.
In Holland the weather was dry and cold, in Venice bleak and wet. Rain all the time.
The sirens date from WO II, producing a sinister howling sound. It ricochets off the pavement, casts back against the houses, lingers into narrow alleys and, carried by town-moats, penetrates the bone.
The rising Laguna-water floods the lower parts of town and submerges ground floor.
There’s no need for drama. People put their stuff somewhat higher and flood boards are being placed. That’s how they keep their things and themselves dry. It looks very simple. Until you notice that, for some reason or another, boards are missing.
Jumping is not an option, turn back is impossible because of other tourists pushing up: instant wet feet. Boot resellers are in business. Every moment new customers that need them and all shops having them in stock behind the counter.
Sirens, I never experienced them as deploring at Piazzale Roma.
They sound like long ago and warfare. Here in Venice they are still in use for warning. In other parts of the world the air is filled up with this sound and people don’t even hear it anymore. A play of life and death isn’t a play anymore.
Here in Holland sirens wail: “attention, attention……..false alarm”. Every fist Monday of the month at noon. Exercise for: “You never know”.
Noteworthy, I try to ignore it, but never succeed. It annoys me. I stain myself to neutralize, to rationalize. But for sure, it doesn’t make me happy. It triggers repulsion and attracts my attention. It keeps me busy until it stops.
Like the hypnotizing singing of Scylla and Charybdes, the Sirens in age-old Greek stories. Demonic creatures that try to seduce people and then make them shipwreck on the cliffs. They were terrified to get under their spell. Such a play doesn’t stop by itself. You had to navigate carefully. Now or never.
Coming Monday I will hear them again: false alarm, but you never can tell.
In memory it says: “Before you know, wet feet!”
Something is missing here, haze, no way back, time is running out, come on now.
Here nothing is missing or it’s now or never. Such beautiful light in Venice, good or bad weather. This all around flowing light … here and there … an atmosphere, ball of possibilities.
Al those layers of air in that wail, all sides in defense are worth investigating, to allow. Dream, hypnosis, reality? Your own tonality between defense and drift.
Your own sound in what echoes. How come: you never know?
Our blog: you can be the safe bet.
Exactly next year it arrives from Saigon, we just learned yesterday.
work#art – bold and balanced
