5. Travelling horses
On the stories our equine friends tell
I hear in my heart, I hear in its ominous pulses
All day, on the road, the hoofs of invisible horses,
All night, from their stalls, the importunate pawing and neighing.
[...]
Louise Imogen Guiney, The Wild Ride
Fortunately, the sounds I hear in Venice are neither ominous nor importunate. It is a city remarkable in many ways, but that distinguishes itself in particular by its soundscape. The absence of cars and omnipresence of water open countless acoustic horizons. There is, of course, the constant bustle of tourists, but more than just a noise, one hears voices and conversations distinctly, a mix of languages, of Italian, all kinds of English accents, and many German ones. There are those walking around with their guide books, pointing buildings out to each other; those commenting on everything they have seen and those planning what they are going to do next; there are the large tour groups ambling along in silence, listening to the guide speak to them in the headphones; there are those here for the sightseeing, those here for the art, those here for shopping, and all sorts of other combinations.
And amongst the throng of foreigners, there are the Venetians themselves, working in the shops and restaurants, or in transportation. Zigzagging in the crowd, the carriers tug or push flat-bottomed wheelbarrows, transporting goods from one place to another. Up and down bridges they transport their load, constantly shouting or ringing a bell for people to make way.
There are also the sounds of the canals : the water splashing against buildings, the engines of boats humming constantly, and the singing of gondoliers, echoing dramatically off the walls - right up into the kitchen of the youth hostel where I am staying and currently writing.
***
On Thursday afternoon, I was walking along the waterfront, making my way up and down countless bridges, from my hostel near the Piazza San Marco to the Giardini della Marinaressa, leisurely eavesdropping on Venice, enjoying the sunny but cool weather and the view over the lagoon. As I walked into the park, I saw two women visibly looking for someone too. It must be them : Vivianne Duchini and Teresa Strianese. Vivianne Duchini is an Argentinian sculptor whose work focuses on evocative bronze animal sculptures. She is particularly fond of the traditional lost-wax casting technique, and while in Italy, she has been working with the historic Art’ù Artistic Foundry… in Florence. I had unwittingly been following in her footsteps. The Peripatetic Museum has a way of finding its way. Teresa Strianese is her Italian friend and co-curator, who is accompanying her during her stay in Italy.
Left : Vivianne Duchini. Photo : Teresa Strianese.
We walked along the pebbled path to the artwork which brought us together : Tocante, a bronze sculpture depicting two life-size horse busts hugging each other in an embrace, and presented in the exhibition Personal Structures : Reflections, organised by the European Cultural Centre. Vivianne started presenting her work to me by talking about her love of horses and horse-riding. If she is so fond of sculpting them, it is because she spends so much time with them and has come to know them well : their behaviour, their moods, their personalities, their anatomy. She points out the rough surface of the sculpture : “Look ! I purposefully decided not to smooth the surface, like I would for other commissioned work. Those rough lines are just like the horse’s muscles, stretching from the neck to the head. I collect so many photos of horses. My notebook is my camera, and I have endless photos of body parts.”
Tocante, bronze, 2021. Photo courtesy of the artist.
The vivacity of her sculptures and their startling evocation of movement are undeniable testimonies to an intimate knowledge of and deep love for the species. Her horses seem as if they were about to - quite literally - spring to life. The following day, I spent a while at the gallery L'Angolo del Passato, where several of her glass sculptures are exhibited, and perused a catalogue of her work - it was like falling from Venice into a horse ranch. In particular, Al viento seemed like just that : in the wind. I could hear in my heart the hoofs of the bronze horses.
Al Viento, bronze. Photo courtesy of the artist.
But back to Tocante. The link between Florence and Venice appeared quite naturally. While she was working at the foundry in Florence, she was inspired for this work by the bronze horses in the San Marco Basilica, and she writes, “I have represented the horses as reminiscent of ancient Greek, Etruscan and Roman sculptures found under the sea, almost always with parts missing but with their beauty intact. That period when the works were underwater marked a parallel with their isolation and their subsequent discovery, the reunion with the world. A celebration of touch as the fundamental sense of the artist in creating and relating to the world”. Hence tocante, touching - after the long period of isolation which the pandemic imposed on us humans. And indeed, the two busts beautifully blend the vigour of the animal and the softness of the embrace.
The San Marco horses
I saw the San Marco horses in the flesh - so to speak - on Saturday. (“In the flesh” is an appropriate expression in this case, considering the stunning details of the sculptures : the veins on the head, the muscles, the folds of skin around the neck, are truly remarkable.) I visited the basilica with them in mind, but before I got to them, I got quite overwhelmed by the rest of the building - decked from floor to ceiling in gold mosaic. My eyes ached with the shimmering beauty of it all. I recalled the conversation I had had on Monday with the art restorer Claudia Reichold, in Florence.
She had excitedly shared with me the work she had conducted on Giotto’s Crucifix in the church Santa Maria Novella, evoking its Byzantine influence, especially in the motifs in the background. In our discussion, she encouraged me to explore, beside artistic influences as such, the other social aspects which enabled the movement of artistic practices, through trade routes and commerce. Walking through San Marco’s Basilica, the Byzantine influence was evident - is this the push for The Peripatetic Museum to go East ?
Claudia Giselda Reichold working on Giotto’s Crucifix in the church Santa Maria Novella. Photo credit : Claudia Giselda Reichold
The horses themselves have many tales of travel to tell. They are four bronze sculptures, originally depicting a quadriga, or four-horse carriage used in chariot racing. Their origin is still unclear, they may have come from Ancient Greece or Ancient Rome, but they were subsequently brought to Constantinople, where they remained until they were plundered during the Crusades and brought to Venice in 1204, along with many other treasures. They were plundered once again, in 1797 : Napoleon Bonaparte’s military campaigns were also ones of artistic spoliation. The four horses ended up in Paris, on the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel…Following his defeat in 1815, they were returned to Venice, where they are now inside the basilica (the horses on the façade are replicas).
Horses thus appear to be quite eloquent animals, or ‘spokesanimals’ for world history - although the stories they tell are ones of war and plundering. Indeed, it was through exploration and conflict that they were brought to South America in the first place - fuelling, centuries later, Vivianne Duchini’s art. And so, through Tocante, horses cross the Atlantic once again, ending up in Venice. Her horses echo those at San Marco, entertaining an artistic and historical conversation from Argentina all the way to present day Istanbul.
So where does this leave The Peripatetic Museum ? Having followed the French artists Paul Dardé, and Louis and Pauline Gauffier to Italy, and more specifically Florence and Vallombrosa, I picked up Viviannne Duchini’s trail through the sculpture Tocante, and am now heading East, in the tracks of her horses. The next definite destination (with stops along the way) is Budapest, where she was commissioned to create a commemorative statue of János Czetz, a Hungarian general involved in the Revolution of 1848. Through several twists of fate, he ended up in Argentina, where he founded the Argentinian Military Geographic Institution. He also extensively explored the regions bordering Paraguay and Brazil, thus gaining lasting recognition in his country of adoption.
Time to saddle up for the next leg of the journey…
Vivianne Duchini at work on Tocante. Photo courtesy of the artist.
Vivianne Duchini : Website / Instagram
Claudia Gisela Reichold : Instagram
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This is beautiful. I especially enjoyed the Giotto.