The black man - he looks like a saint or a devout believer and someone important - look at his clothes!
Inside the church of San Guisto.
Chiara, Enrico and baby Francesco.
Me at Miremare
The next couple are the final views seen by Princess Carlotta when she supposedly threw herself from the balcony!
Miremare
All of us at Miremare.
Quinn and Iggy get into trouble at Miremare...
Quinn pushing Francesco
We are now in Izola – a little coastal town (Karstal) 35 minutes from Trieste and we have finally met up - without much fuss at all, with Encrico and Chiara and of course the beautiful baby Franceso. Trieste is an Italian town with a mixed identity. According to a book I’ve been reading (the memoirs of a transvestite who went through a gender change in Trieste post World War II – very interesting reading and surprisingly full of interesting historical content), most people in Italy don’t even know Trieste belongs to them!
My experience is a little different to most ‘Italians’ then; as I have a long and colored history with Trieste that goes deep to my roots. It is the birth place of my mother, my mothers mother, my Zia Giselle and my Nonna’s cousin Lydia; four women who are the strongest and most influential in my life (besides Niv of course, who also comes from this stock). In Australia I always tell people I have an Italian background, and heading towards Italy I harbored a secret fear that I would feel an incredible disconnection of self if I was forced to relinquish my Italian-ness and admit only to being Australian – but no this was a silly fancy. Firstly, my Italian’s not great but my accent is fantastic (says Enrico – thank you darling); so most people don’t even ask me where I’m from – there’s no need to admit nationality. Second I don’t care. Australia’s a great country – like all countries – no better, no worse; nothing special, and yet very special.
I think we are traveling around here and unraveling a feeling of global citizenship, courtesy of those who have migrated before us and it feels great – more connected than ever.
Trieste is a very old town rebuilt four hundred years ago by the Hapsburgs and then refurbished by Mussolini – who like Jeff Kennet in 80s Victoria had a building obsession. The San Guisto Castle and church are really the only medieval architecture here; most was rebuilt out of convenience sake and because the Hapsburgs decided to Modernize Trieste by minimizing taxes and tariffs and sending the town off into a boom time.
We went to Mirre Marre, the castle belonging to Emperor Franz Joseph’s brother Maximillian (who became Emperor of Mexico and was such a prick that the Mexicans killed the bastard) and frankly we were disappointed (how very cheeky of us really). The castle insides were decked out like a boat because apparently Max liked boats! Ok there’s boats and then there’s castles – talk about architectural identity crisis!
Apparently, after Max was assassinated by the Mexicans, his wife Carlotta threw herself from the walls of Miree Maree into the sea. A very romantic gesture (except for whoever had to reclaim the body from the rocks). It may seem as if I have no sympathy for the Hapsburgs – you would be right – what a selfish bunch of drama queens – there is however, a special place in my heart for Sissi, Emperor Franz Josephs wife who was an ardent critic of marriage.
After Mirre Maree we went to San Guisto Cathedral – a medieval church – one of the oldest buildings in Trieste. And of course being from Australia – the older the better please!
One of the first things that struck me were the little, perfectly shaped figures of women’s bodies that were carved into the front of a bench top. The breasts were exposed and they had rounded ripe bellies with cloth draped underneath – it was practically pornographic. This interested me as I have been reading the Wise Wound which has a whole chapter devoted to menstruation, fertility and the bible. These ripe round breasts and fertile bellies were on prominent, almost proud display and I got the strange feeling something was a miss – as I often do with anything involving the Catholic Church. You can’t come to Italy and avoid Catholicism; every piece of history is seeped in it, every story marinated in a ripe stench of hypocrisy and the strange darkness that the church evokes. Check out the bones in a case in San Guisto: creepy!
The window – you will see in photos is a very famous image and has a similar sister window in Venice that I spotted while there (read coming post).
Check out the artworks in the church, just amazing – the artwork is in saturation mode, so our friends who live here have no real interest in it and are completely un-phased by what they see; which is probably a good thing as the Catholic Church put the prop in propaganda –they hired the best artisans of the day and saturated Italy with images of such extraordinary beauty and purity no wonder there were so many Catholics before television!
I love the way the faces of the saints around the doorway have faded and look like they have been fixed up a bit by the local priest’s assistant at some stage with a kitchen knife – now this is only outrageous speculation by me and certainly not a sanctified confession from the church!
Is this a black saint? It has always interested me how in painting all throughout the intense catholic period – I have had no answers so far that truly satisfy me however, but my least favorite was that there were slaves from Africa at that time! I am sure that’s a fallacy because the racisim of the church is just as overt as the misogyny!
My experience is a little different to most ‘Italians’ then; as I have a long and colored history with Trieste that goes deep to my roots. It is the birth place of my mother, my mothers mother, my Zia Giselle and my Nonna’s cousin Lydia; four women who are the strongest and most influential in my life (besides Niv of course, who also comes from this stock). In Australia I always tell people I have an Italian background, and heading towards Italy I harbored a secret fear that I would feel an incredible disconnection of self if I was forced to relinquish my Italian-ness and admit only to being Australian – but no this was a silly fancy. Firstly, my Italian’s not great but my accent is fantastic (says Enrico – thank you darling); so most people don’t even ask me where I’m from – there’s no need to admit nationality. Second I don’t care. Australia’s a great country – like all countries – no better, no worse; nothing special, and yet very special.
I think we are traveling around here and unraveling a feeling of global citizenship, courtesy of those who have migrated before us and it feels great – more connected than ever.
Trieste is a very old town rebuilt four hundred years ago by the Hapsburgs and then refurbished by Mussolini – who like Jeff Kennet in 80s Victoria had a building obsession. The San Guisto Castle and church are really the only medieval architecture here; most was rebuilt out of convenience sake and because the Hapsburgs decided to Modernize Trieste by minimizing taxes and tariffs and sending the town off into a boom time.
We went to Mirre Marre, the castle belonging to Emperor Franz Joseph’s brother Maximillian (who became Emperor of Mexico and was such a prick that the Mexicans killed the bastard) and frankly we were disappointed (how very cheeky of us really). The castle insides were decked out like a boat because apparently Max liked boats! Ok there’s boats and then there’s castles – talk about architectural identity crisis!
Apparently, after Max was assassinated by the Mexicans, his wife Carlotta threw herself from the walls of Miree Maree into the sea. A very romantic gesture (except for whoever had to reclaim the body from the rocks). It may seem as if I have no sympathy for the Hapsburgs – you would be right – what a selfish bunch of drama queens – there is however, a special place in my heart for Sissi, Emperor Franz Josephs wife who was an ardent critic of marriage.
After Mirre Maree we went to San Guisto Cathedral – a medieval church – one of the oldest buildings in Trieste. And of course being from Australia – the older the better please!
One of the first things that struck me were the little, perfectly shaped figures of women’s bodies that were carved into the front of a bench top. The breasts were exposed and they had rounded ripe bellies with cloth draped underneath – it was practically pornographic. This interested me as I have been reading the Wise Wound which has a whole chapter devoted to menstruation, fertility and the bible. These ripe round breasts and fertile bellies were on prominent, almost proud display and I got the strange feeling something was a miss – as I often do with anything involving the Catholic Church. You can’t come to Italy and avoid Catholicism; every piece of history is seeped in it, every story marinated in a ripe stench of hypocrisy and the strange darkness that the church evokes. Check out the bones in a case in San Guisto: creepy!
The window – you will see in photos is a very famous image and has a similar sister window in Venice that I spotted while there (read coming post).
Check out the artworks in the church, just amazing – the artwork is in saturation mode, so our friends who live here have no real interest in it and are completely un-phased by what they see; which is probably a good thing as the Catholic Church put the prop in propaganda –they hired the best artisans of the day and saturated Italy with images of such extraordinary beauty and purity no wonder there were so many Catholics before television!
I love the way the faces of the saints around the doorway have faded and look like they have been fixed up a bit by the local priest’s assistant at some stage with a kitchen knife – now this is only outrageous speculation by me and certainly not a sanctified confession from the church!
Is this a black saint? It has always interested me how in painting all throughout the intense catholic period – I have had no answers so far that truly satisfy me however, but my least favorite was that there were slaves from Africa at that time! I am sure that’s a fallacy because the racisim of the church is just as overt as the misogyny!
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