On a recent trip overseas I was able to stop over in Italy on my way home. I had the incredible blessing of returning to what is perhaps my favorite city on earth, Venice. The scenes of this enchanting city of water provide a limitless potential for photography, with an abundance of light, atmosphere, and water as the backdrop for waterborne vessels, classic architecture, weathered doors, and untold mysteries waiting to be discovered around every corner. These are a few of my favorite photos from the visit.
I took these photos earlier this month during my visit to the region of Molise in Central Italy, in the beautiful Apennine Mountains. I was visiting dear friends; hope to return many times.
Misty views and ancient ways,
Sun-drenched and shadow-splotched,
Mountain chains, rugged paths,
Journeys set adrift yet never born,
Early light until the birth of night.
Welcome to Isernia Province…
I’ve long held a fascination with doors as a photography subject. On my Instagram account I started a collection under the hashtag “#ktrap_doors” with over 500 doors I’ve captured from all over the world. Among my favorite locales in the world for “door hunting” are Uganda, Nepal and, of course, Italy. So I’m very happy to bring you this collection of doors from Venice and parts of the region of Italy known as Isernia. From the Venetian Lagoon to the Apennine Mountains, let’s turn the knob and step into the world of Italy’s classic portals…
Moving south to the province of Isernia, region of Molise…
Continuing our walk of the city of suspended art, we discover the interplay of wood, iron and stone with light and water. Many of Venice’s buildings are suspended by the trunks of the water-resistant alder trees, harvested hundreds of years ago in Slovenia. The foundations of the buildings are made of limestone placed on top of the closely-spaced piles (tree trunks) which have survived centuries of submersion in the oxygen-sparse waters of the Venetian Lagoon.
Thus much of the city is essentially suspended above the waters on what one could call man-made islands of classic architecture and quiet walkways. There are no vehicles in the city; not even a bicycle can be seen. Only pedestrians and the narrow vessels of the lagoon can be seen. For its unique nature, I would refer to the city as one of deep history, perpetual intrigue and romance— a romance with the city herself which, aside from the tourist-overrun areas at certain times of the day, is captivating and endless— with the turn of each corner revealing new discoveries in exponential possibilities.
In my next post I have a very special treat for you, another fundamental theme of our fair Venezia I am saving as the final “dolce” touch of my series. Stay tuned, and thanks for following along.
All images on this blog © 2015 Kirby Trapolino.
On my way home from Nepal I had the incredible opportunity to stop through Italy, when the 56th Venice Biennale art festival was getting underway. After the trauma of facing Nepal’s devastating earthquake aftermath, I found solace in the soothing elegance of Venice’s gondolas. They seem to weep at times, as their heads bow in reverence to the shadowed tunnels from which they humbly emerge. Indeed I myself had things over which to mourn. Venice’s somber waterways seemed a fitting backdrop for my contemplative recovery from the previous week’s heartbreaking realities.
The timing of my trips, both of which were already planned before the earthquake, seemed surreal, yet poetically appropriate. I have more themes to share from my Venice wanderings and then will take you south to the mountainous Isernia province of Italy where I reunited with lifelong friends I had not seen in years.