Lessons from Venice: Day 6

This is without a doubt the most difficult day to reflect on and I wanted to record all of the feelings that were overwhelming me while they were still fresh, so I penned a journal entry while I was sitting in the airport in Istanbul.  Here's the day in review in its raw form and the tough lessons that came from it...


Thursday morning was tough for me.  I was totally exhausted from working in the studio until 3am and emotionally wrung out.  I had been working really hard on my piece and Antonella kept giving me these looks as she walked passed my workstation.  Any of my teacher friends can understand what "the look" means...I give my students the same look when they are in trouble or I'm unhappy with them.  I told Antonella this, but I'm not sure she understood.


Although I really enjoy being a student, it has been several years since I've been a true beginner at something or tried to learn something so foreign to me (perhaps with the exception of attempting to learn Korean, but that's a story for another blog post).  I was really bummed out that I wasn't feeling a connection with my teacher and that most of her comments consisted of "work faster" or its equivalent in Italian.  I've always aimed to please and I have always had good relationships with my teachers throughout my academic career, so feeling like I was being labeled as the "bad student" really (for lack of a better word here) sucked.  This was the second day I'd been experiencing these feelings and I did what I am really good at doing...turned inside myself.  Usually this just appears to those on the outside that I'm really quiet and focused, but inside this causes me serious emotional turmoil (back to the self-doubting bit).  I decided I needed to drown out everything going on around me, so I popped my earbuds in, turned up Jann Arden and Eva Cassidy on my i-Pod (my soothing music), and worked.  I needed time to process and evaluate the situation.  I think God had a huge lesson for me here...okay, maybe several, but I'm still working through what to do with them.  


For the first time in a long time, I was truly put in the place of my own students who are trying to learn new things and connect with me.  I experienced what they do when their teacher fails to acknowledge them as individuals and praise them for their achievements.  I understood why motivation wanes when a teacher overlooks a kid who is seeking attention.  I wanted to feel valued and noticed by the person I was looking to for guidance and whose expertise I so respected.  Aside from this, I realized that I have a really deep desire to connect with people who happen to pass through my life.  I need to remember these feelings, keep them raw and close by so I will  be constantly reminded to work on connecting with ALL of my students.  I need to give less "looks" and more praise.  I need to have more patience.  I truly value my students and the incredible contributions they make to the world around them--I need to tell them, affirm them, and support them.  It's amazing how something so small can turn into something so big...and how little it takes for my own insecurities to creep up inside.  I am enough...I just need to remember that (I'm feeling a new sign for the office coming on) and be sure that my students know that they are enough too!


On the plus side, I figured out what I'd like to do in my post teaching life!  Mirta, the student coordinator and translator who has been with us all week, has what I see as the "perfect job".  She gets to interact with interesting people, be in a creative and artistic environment, and use her skills to help others learn. All I need now is to master a couple more languages and find the right opportunity.  After being exposed to so many conversations that I don't understand, I've decided that I want to study Italian.  Hearing two people conversing back and forth reveals what a beautiful and passionate language it is.  In fact, I would love to do this language learning in Venice--spend a few months there doing nothing but mosaic work, wandering around the city until I've discovered every hidden alley, and studying Italian.  That is definitely something I would have to save up for over the long term, but these days I'm of the mindset that if I can conceive of it, I can probably accomplish it so all I need now is a game plan.


Thursday afternoon was the one day that we ducked out of the studio at lunch time to do some sightseeing.  Murano and the Basilica San Marco were our two targets.  It was a beautiful and sunny afternoon, and since I was so tired I was really glad to be up and moving.  Murano was quiet, cute, and a good distraction.  We walked, looked, and shopped for a little over an hour before hopping back on the vaporetto to Piazza San Marco.  Here are a few of the highlights from Murano:

Cruising across the lagoon.

A happy vaporetto passenger.

Murano and glass go hand in hand.

A fire lookout tower with an interesting sculpture in the foreground.

Looking a little closer.

Viva Italia!

All of the glass furnaces were relocated to Murano a century ago to protect Venice from fire.

Mosaics!

More mosaics!

On our way back to Venice.

By the time we reached San Marco we had all of 30 minutes to explore and marvel at the absolutely incredible mosaics inside.  All I can really say about the experience is, "WOW!"  I added up all of the hours I had spent working on my 40cm x 30cm piece so I could try to conceptualize just how long those amazing mosaics would have taken and the result was mind-blowing.  There was so much history and culture to take in during our short visit meaning I'll definitely have to go back for another look when I visit Venice again.  The floor of the church tells a story in itself of how the land is shifting and changing with the water that surrounds it--the floor has formed undulating waves and it feels as though the marble is flowing beneath your feet.  The rule inside San Marco is no photos, so I obliged but I did capture a few shots of the mosaics outside just to give you an idea of the grandeur awaiting inside the church.

Approaching San Marco from the side.

The belltower in Piazza San Marco.

Pure and glorious mosaic work!

Incredible

A flower in mosaic tile.

The mosaic over the entrance to San Marco.

A close up of Jesus. 

There's no way I was about to do this!

Vile vermin! 

Me in Piazza San Marco!

Looking a little worse for wear, but happy to be out and about in Venice!

I love the details....from the Basilica San Marco.

One of my favorite shots.

Classic view across the lagoon.

The sun going down in Venice.

We finished our outing with another visit to the Hard Rock Cafe for some salads before we headed back to another late night in the workshop.  Mom had a triumphant moment sometime around midnight when she finished completely her first mosaic piece!  Lucia had also made good progress in our absence and completed her first piece too.  I still had a lot of work to do.  Like the night before, Astrid and I cranked up some ABBA songs and kept at it for another couple of hours until my brain felt thoroughly mushy and I was forced to head to bed.  Despite the exhaustion, the emotions of the day still weighed heavily and I knew tomorrow would be another day full of emotions as we ended our course and said good-bye to our new friends.

Not exactly authentic, but a fun stop in any city.

Gondolas parked outside the Hard Rock.

Mom's first finished mosaic!

Lucia's finished piece.

So close!  I have to finish!

Lessons from Venice: Day 5

Today marked the midpoint of our week in the mosaic studio and I just can't get enough!  I still have a monumental amount of work to get done on my piece, but I am now cautiously optimistic that I'll get to take it home finished.  When I entered the studio today I found just Antonella waiting for us.  She looked over my shoulder at the progress I had made the night before and commented on how I hadn't finished the row of blue background across the bottom of the picture.  I sighed and got right to work.


A few minutes later, Antonella was back to help Astrid with something on her eagle and I turned around to watch the maestra at work.  It amazed me how easily she maneuvered the hammer--the woman can take a TINY piece of glass and make a precision cut so the piece fits the opening it is intended for perfectly!  Like my students, I was curious about my teacher so I began to ask her questions to try and get to know her a little better.  As it turns out, Antonella has been making mosaics for thirty years.  From what I could gather, she said something about being a difficult teenager and her father decided she needed to get a job.  It happened that her father knew Lucio Orsoni's father, and her brother worked in the furnace at Orsoni, so it was soon settled that Antonella would learn the art of making mosaics.  I was surprised when she said that she was very unhappy when she started ("I cried", she told me) but at some point she came to love the craft in which she is so evidently talented.  You could tell by the smile on her face that mosaic work is her true passion.  Apparently the talent runs in the family, because Antonella's seven year old son is also learning the craft from an early age!


A bit later, Antonella consulted me about some English grammar as she wrote a reply to a student on Facebook and we got to talking about her English skills.  After only ten lessons and a crash course with students in the studio, I let her know that I was quite impressed with her abilities.  She let it slip that she is very shy, and that English is really difficult for her.  Knowing this one small fact helped me to understand why I was having such limited interactions with my teacher.  It also inspired me to follow through with my dream of studying another language.


Early each morning, long before we arrived in the studio at 9am, Antonella was hard at work preparing filati (rods of glass that are thinner than uncooked spaghetti) for two classes she is teaching in the States in May.  After explaining the process to me in the studio, she promised that she would show me how to pull the filati once Mirta arrived, so off we went to her workshop (located just above the furnace where the glass is made).  There were sketches of mosaics waiting to be created and a couple of pieces in process, but it wasn't the warm and creative space I was imagining.  Pulling the filati obviously took a great deal of practice and skill and went something like this:  She took pieces of mother tint (essentially chunks of glass) and placed them in a specially designed metal vessel (like a sphere with 1/4 of the metal gone so as to make a large opening).  Then she fired up the torch and heated the sphere and glass until the glass had the consistency of a thick, sticky glob.  I should note that my "captain safety" reflexes kicked in somewhere during the time that glass pieces were popping and sputtering out of the metal vessel in the direction of the person melting them!  All I could say was, "Where are her safety goggles?!"  The molten glass was stirred and wrapped around a screwdriver-like tool forming a big bead.  To pull the thin strands, she grabbed a pair of tweezers, pinched a bit of glass, and pulled the glass into a strand as it passed through the torch flame.  When the filati had the diameter she was hoping for, the strand was broken off and another was pulled.  I was in awe of how easy she made this process look and that her strands were of uniform thickness!  Although I'm a chemist and I use a Bunsen burner regularly, I don't think I have the guts to get that close to molten glass and a torch flame...without safety goggles or a labcoat!   When I had seen the finished micro mosaic samples, I thought I might be interested in giving it a try but after watching Antonella in action I decided that definitely was not the medium for me.  Best to focus on one technique at a time!

Maestra Antonella pulling filati!

Back in the studio, I continue to plug away at my piece.  With Mirta there to translate for her, Antonella was a little more hands-off.  Mirta, being naturally outgoing, was there to give praise as we worked and she assured me that if I worked hard I would finish.  I was sad that the sparkling woman I had seen just a few hours before had been drawn back inside but hoped we would see her again the next morning.  I wondered if my students thought the same about me...I know that I'm not little miss sunshine in my classroom every day and I started to become curious about how my students perceived my demeanor (more about this in tomorrow's lessons).

Lunchtime already and still so much to do!

Today during lunch mom and I decided to enjoy the sunshine and walked the main street the emanates from the bridge.  After our failed attempt at locating the mask shop I thought I would never find an authentic Venetian mask (one of the few things I wanted to take home as a souvenir).  Luckily, Monika had stayed in this neighborhood last year and knew just the place...right down the street.  I wish I could have taken pictures of the hundreds of beautiful options hanging in the shop, all made by one of the master craftsmen who worked there.  I ended up choosing a fun and flirty floral mask that could be easily carried in my backpack on the journey home.  We grabbed a quick bite to eat, and headed back to the workshop.  From 1:30pm until 6:30pm everyone worked diligently on their pieces.  From time to time we would get up to stretch our legs and admire what the others were working on. 

Monika's Grecian inspired piece using all of the variations of gold tiles.

Astrid's eagle taking shape.

My many reject tiles that were cut unsuccessfully:(.

Lucia's piece inspired by a Klimt painting.

With evening falling, all five of us decided to go to dinner together.  Several of us were craving pizza and we found a cute little restaurant across the canal to eat at.  We sampled gnocchi, pizza of various types, and calzone...everything was delicious!  I was even able to order pizza without sauce (I know, this sounds ridiculous, but the fact that I could eat almost anything I wanted in Italy and not get sick was a huge triumph for me).  Heading back to the studio, we all acknowledged what a unique experience this was and how lucky we were to have such a great group to share it with.  As I thought about the list of sights that we weren't going to have time to see, and reflected on the memories I was making with these ladies in just three short days I realized this:  the true beauty in travel is found in the people you meet and connections you make, not the sights you see.  Don't get me wrong, I love sightseeing, but I wouldn't have traded a minute spent with these ladies to visit a museum?

We all worked late in the studio tonight.  Monika and Lucia called it quits first, but Astrid, mom, and I were determined to make progress and make our teacher proud!  Mom and I stopped for some treats on the way back from dinner and the three of us worked, told stories, snacked on delicious pastries, and rocked out to ABBA tunes until the wee hours of the night.  By one or two am mom headed to bed, but Astrid and I pushed on!  At that point we were completely punch-drunk...everything was hilarious, including the fact that the man in the furnace was probably watching us sing and dance around.  Maybe we should have asked him to join us?!  Here's what my piece looked like when I finally decided to go to bed (around 3am).  Oh what a night!!

Almost finished with the blue background!

Lessons from Venice: Day 4

It's the second day of our mosaic class and our best laid plans have been thrown out the window.  I have come to grips with the fact that in order to finish my mosaic piece two things must happen...1) I'm going to be spending a heck of a lot of hours in the studio after class ends for the day, which means much less sightseeing will take place than anticipated, and 2) I am going to have to compromise with myself and make a smaller piece than I had hoped.  Surprisingly, I am fine with both of these things because I want to take home a finished piece AND because I am really enjoying the mosaic class (more than I actually imagined).


My teacher still reminds me often that I need to work faster, but I decided that since I'm still a learner it's best to take my time and make something I will be proud of and enjoy.  Astrid, my new friend who sits at the work station behind me, is also working slowly and steadily on her eagle design.  Somehow Mirta and Antonella learn that she is from Bern, Switzerland and that people from Bern have a reputation for being slow at everything (talking, thinking, driving...you get the picture).  Near the end of the day, Antonella jokes to Mirta that since I work so slowly I must also be from Bern.  I laugh, but know that she is probably not really joking.  Sometimes I feel like humor gets lost in translation, and I really love to laugh--even if it is at myself.  


Today during our lunch break we joined Astrid and Lucia at the kosher restaurant down the canal from where we are staying.  The conversation was interesting and happened in strange bits--English, English, German, German, German, English.  It was sometimes a bit difficult to follow, but strangely entertaining.  This gave us an opportunity to learn more about these two ladies, including their artistic experiences.  I begin to understand further that mom and I truly are beginners in an intermediate/advanced level class, but our classmates do not begrudge our presence, rather they make helpful suggestions, give tips, and answer questions.  


From today on I felt that we are quite a cohesive little group and I really enjoy the time spent with these interesting women.  My progress is still slow, but I reached a point where I can begin adding leaves to my first trees.  Antonella showed me a new way to cut and place tiles that is much less structured than the tree trunks and background tiles.  I ask her if it is supposed to be random...she answers, "I'll show you random."  I loved it!  Finally, freedom again!  My progress started to pick up a bit and I am becoming a little more comfortable using the hammer and hardie. Oh, I also get to start incorporating GOLD tiles into my piece.  There's something exciting about cutting a pile of gold tiles!  Mom has also finished forming the flowers in her cross and gets to start using gold tiles too.  I comment on how many gold tiles they decide to integrate into the piece...Antonella answers, "I like gold" with a huge smile on her face.

My mosaic with the first batch of leaves added.  Still lots of work to be done!

My attempt at keeping straight the multitude of colors needed for my mosaic.

As the end of our class time approaches, mom and I decided to take a trip down the canal to search for a mask shop I read about in our Rick Steves' travel guide.  Riding a vaporetto down the Grand Canal is really something special because the city starts to reveal itself to you.  I snapped a ton of pictures as we rode, became a little disoriented (I'll reference this as another case of being directionally challenged), and got us off at the wrong stop.  Oops!  Well, this mistake gave us a chance to walk by the Rialto bridge and see where the Rialto Market is located.  

At the start of our ride down the Grand Canal.

There's something mesmerizing about the way the light reflects off of the buildings and the canals.  The city seems to glow in the late afternoon.

A row of gondolas.

The only form of transportation in this city--boat!  Notice the good looking Italian man driving:).

There are a finite number of bridges crossing the Grand Canal so the traghetto provides another option.

At the site of the Rialto Market (not very exciting in the evening).

The Rialto Bridge, one of the oldest and most well known in Venice.

 A much better view at night!

I'm sure this next bit is going to shock you, but we never did find the mask shop.  Even after getting back on the vaporetto, finding and disembarking at the correct stop, and attempting to use a street map to figure out where we were going.  Again I learned the "ask for help" lesson, but I opted for pride and frustration until a very sweet older gentleman pointed us in a semi understandable direction.  At the time, I felt like our excursion was a waste of precious time, but thinking about it now reminds of something very important...I am so blessed to have a really good mom (and a good dad) who support me in all of my crazy adventures!


I decided to pull out my iPod during the latter part of the day to help me focus on the task at hand and try to block out the symphony of noises going on around me (glass being cut, chatter in Italian and German, glass breaking, the singing furnace men) so I can potentially work faster.  Before leaving Seoul for Italy I heard one of my fellow teachers perform at a cafe fundraiser--she has an incredible voice.  One of the songs she chose is by a Canadian artist named Jann Arden and is called "Good Mother".  I've always been one of those people who is affected by music and certain songs seem to speak to me...this was one of them and it was on constant play as I worked on my mosaic piece.  Don't you think it is fitting for a memorable adventure spent with my mom?  Here it is:

It amazed me how quickly the evening hours in the studio flew by!  We arrived back at Orsoni around 8pm and before we knew it the clock was turning 1am.  Later I'll tell you why these were some of the most fun and memorable times of the trip!  Here's a picture of what I accomplished by the end of the night.

Hope is building that I might actually finish my piece by the end of Friday!

Lessons from Venice: Day 3

Monday was the official start of our Master of Mosaic course at Orsoni and I have to admit that I was a little nervous.  First, I have never created a mosaic before, and second, I had no idea who my classmates would be (other than my mom of course)!  There were several other women in the breakfast room that morning and as we ate I heard at least two different languages being spoken.  Finally, one woman broke the ice and asked us if we were doing the mosaic course.  Thank goodness!  She introduced herself as Monika and told us she had participated in the course a year ago, which explained why she seemed to have an idea of what would happen and when.  Astrid, the woman sitting across from Monika was also enrolled in the course.  As nine o'clock approached we all waited anxiously for a glimpse of someone from Orsoni to welcome us. 


Finally, a woman named Liliana led us to the studio where we claimed our workspaces and proceeded to take a tour of the grounds.  Observing and learning about the process of making smalti was a chemist's dream!  I was so excited to be in the furnace watching the men at work that I only caught a fraction of the explanation, but from what I could gather here's how it works:  First, a gigantic clay vessel is filled with silica (sand), heated to the melting point, and various elements and minerals are added to create a specific color.  At Orsoni, mosaic tile called smalti are produced in literally thousands of colors, each with its own special recipe.  Once melted, the mixture is gathered into ball and transferred to a belt where it was worked and flattened, then rolled through the glass making equivalent of a pasta machine to press the glass into a large sheet.  This is then cooled and ready for cutting several hours later.  I'm certain I've missed a good number of steps, but you get the idea.

The ceramic vessels used for melting the glass and mixing colors.

From the furnace we headed over to the color library where we oohed and ahhed at the shelves filled with row after row of sheets of colored smalti.  It was such a beautiful sight that I could have jumped up and down squealing with joy as I imagined the possibilities (okay, I did jump up and down squealing a little).  Our next stop was back inside the same building as the workshop--the cutting area.  One woman was tasked with cutting the smalti into tiles using a scoring tool and grid, while two others used cutting machines.  It was truly remarkable to see these women at work and hear the rhythmic tapping and breaking.  Throughout the week, these sounds were background music as we worked!

Mmmmm....so many beautiful colors of smalti!

So many colors to choose from!

Special fleshtones

Smalti!

Scoring the glass with a grid.

Then breaking the glass into tiles.

One of the ladies using a cutting machine.

We returned to our workspaces and a whirlwind of activity ensued.  Within minutes we were making decisions about the size of our pieces, receiving cut boards, and tracing our designs onto the wood.  Mirta, the student coordinator and awesome translator, gave me a handful of tiles and a quick demonstration on how to use the hammer and hardie to cut the smalti into smaller pieces then watched as I practiced.  It took some serious skill and concentration to balance a piece of smalti on the hardie, lift up the hammer which weighed over a kilogram, then bring the blade of the hammer down onto the glass in such a way that it split cleanly.  Throughout the week there were a great deal of casualties (I'm referring to smalti tiles here!) as I continued to work at mastering these tools and I was quite thankful to walk away with all ten fingers!  

Mom starting to trace her pattern onto a board.

Tracing my design and choosing colors.

Tools of a mosaic artist...hammer and hardie.

I learned to mix white mortar (referred to as "glue") with black pigment and how to use a small trowel to spread the mortar onto my board (just like frosting a cake!).  Antonella, our maestra, gave me a quick lesson on placing tiles to begin to create texture and movement.  Who would have thought that there were SO MANY details to consider when cutting and placing tiles to form a picture?  I could tell right away that creating a mosaic was going to force me to think outside of my very linear brain and would challenge my artsy-craftsy skills to the max!  By lunchtime on the first day I felt that I hadn't accomplished much.     

Morning progress on my piece.

When lunchtime came around mom and I took a break to eat our sandwiches and walk around the neighborhood.  We didn't know it then, but the neighborhood where we stayed, called the Canaregio, is probably as close to "authentic Venice" as you can get and I really loved it.  We wandered around without a map or a destination in mind, knowing that as long as we could get back to Ponte de Guglie we would be okay.  As we explored the neighborhood and made our way back to the studio, I knew that this was EXACTLY the type of vacation I needed.

Apartments in the neighborhood.

Old, crusty, and beautiful.

The synagogue.

Nationalist graffiti.

The mail slot at Orsoni.

The colors and canals were captivating! 

Back in the studio, we continued our work until dinnertime then faced the challenge of finding a restaurant to eat at that served dinner at 5:30pm (not an easy task).  I was still pretty tired from the long trip to Venice and got pretty frustrated as we searched and searched for a place to eat because by then I was starving.  Thankfully mom knows how to deal with me when I'm being a brat and we finally settled on a place, ordered some pasta, and started to debrief our first day in the studio.  Both mom and I agreed that mosaic making was definitely more challenging than we thought and my first worries that I wouldn't finish my piece by the end of Friday began to creep in.  We discussed our classmates, acknowledging that they seemed like fun ladies, and laughed about the interesting communication that occurred as we worked.  Astrid, Monika, and Lucia all spoke German to each other and English to mom and I with different levels of proficiency.  Antonella spoke mostly Italian, but would occasionally give us short pieces of advice in English while more comprehensive instructions were translated by Mirta.  We immediately took a liking to Mirta's outgoing, friendly personality.  Overall, we surmised that this would be a good week.

Mom's mosaic at the end of the first day of class.

My mosaic at the end of the first day of class.

Knowing that we had a lot of progress still to make, we returned to the studio to find Astrid hard at work on her eagle mosaic.  Monika and Lucia had opted to take the first night off and go out for dinner and a concert.  Little did I know that these late evening sessions would be the start of a lovely friendship between myself and Astrid.  We talked more than we worked, sharing chocolate and stories about our lives.  I could tell there would be many fun times to be had in the coming evenings.  Better still, I found myself really wanting to be in the mosaic studio hard at work instead of out in the city hitting all of the tourist spots we had put on our list of things to do.   


The end of the first night brought about an important realization.  We had worked in the studio for about eight hours that first day and I was really surprised how slow going the process was.  Let's face it, I work slowly...I am a perfectionist to the core.  This turned out to be one of my biggest challenges and learnings of the week:  it is okay not to be perfect!  For those of you who know me, this is not a natural way of thinking for me.  I always feel like I am under some sort of scrutiny (my boss at work, the students I teach, my family and friends) and I worry so much about what others think that it can be exhausting.  I want to make impeccable scrapbook pages, plan engaging lessons, write captivating blog posts, iron my clothes to perfection...I want to be able to approach a task and do it right, and well, from the get go.  For the first time in a very long time I really had to let go of all of my preconceived ideas about how a mosaic comes together, accept the limitations of my beginning skills, and just allow myself to be guided by intuition, the expertise of my teacher, and my materials.  In so many ways, this was such a freeing experience and I was able to really embrace the creative process.  Now that I am back to my non-vacation life, I think the real challenge begins--carrying this new found freedom into the rest of my existence and finally accepting that the imperfect me is good enough...most of the time.