To celebrate my birthday this year, I granted myself the gift of participating in a writing retreat in Venice, Italy. A dream destination for many, it should be a great place to get your creative juices flowing. The retreat was themed around German writer Rainer Maria Rilke, who spent some time in Venice in the years around 1900, and wrote about the city and its masterpieces. My own relationship with Rilke ended in my early 20ies together with my melancholic phase. Hence, I was really curious what this retreat would do to me emotionally, and creatively. And boy, did Venice deliver!
Visiting Venice in October comes with rain, fog, and acqua alta. The very first thing my host told me was to get some rubber boots, because the acqua alta comes suddenly. Actually, it comes with a 2 to 3 hour warning via sirene through the whole city, which should give you more than enough time to get home safely. And what she called “rubber boots” are more like condoms for your shoes. They are sold everywhere around here and look hilarious. Sometimes they come with raincoats in power colours. So my first impression of Venice was more or less that of a murder site with crazy forensics walking around wondering where to look next.
Fortunately, I knew my lecturer from home. She invited me over for an amazing dinner on my first night, and I had one of the best fish dishes of my life. The poor thing woke up that morning down in the lagoon, minding its own business, and at night it was my birthday meal. Thank you for being so delicious!
As we are on it: Let’s get food out of the way. You can eat well in Venice, but not necessarily where all the tourists are. In one bar the guy next to us ordered vegetable soup, and the waiter went to fetch a can. That’s how you feed 10,000 tourists a day, so you better not have a delicate stomach, or prepare to search for places away from the main sites. Try fresh fish or shellfish e.g. from Rialto market, especially if you have the chance to cook for yourself in your Airbnb. I strongly recommend the Majer on Giudecca for its Tiramisu.
The writing retreat
A friend of mine recently asked why I bother attending writing classes and retreats when instead I could just write. She has a point. Only, I am really productive on retreats, whereas at home I often struggle to find time and headspace to sit down and draft a text. I benefit a lot from inspiration, writing prompts, and a teacher who values my style and helps me to get the most out of it. And I enjoy meeting other writers, who are often creative people with different outlets for their creativity, and all that contributes to my ideas or encourages me to also try something new. This time was no different, output-wise, although it was really exhausting.
First of all: Venice. This city is so full! It’s full of people, most of them tourists who have no idea where they are or where they are going. So they stroll around, eyes fixed on Google Maps (Thank God for Google Maps, btw!), paying no attention to other people also trying to find their way around the city; suddenly a full stop, usually in the middle of a bridge, to take another picture of houses over Gondolas on a canal, and then, instead of giving way for other pedestrians, some palaver about whatever. Mainly in German, English, or French; Italian is rare. I have no idea how Venetians deal with that on a daily basis. I get mad at Bavarians getting all excited over overground tubes when the U3 enters Baumwall station in Hamburg during summer break (altough that really is a lovely sight). This is a constant!
Then Rilke. Apparently he had a fling for 16th century religious paintings. We went into a number of churches to see paintings he had written about. It’s funny how something you can’t be bothered with yourself can serve as a prompt to inspire your writing. What was the painter thinking when he planned the Presentation of Mary? Probably not the feminist rant I made of it, but who cares? Tintoretto‘s dead, he won’t complain.
The teachers headed that particular retreat for the first time, and while I know them as very structured in other settings, the city retreat was a bit chaotic. What could have been a lovely, relaxed, Italian experience, clashed poorly with the intensity of the full city and my situation at work where I suffer so much from bad organisation. It was challenging to let go of my desire to be guided through a workshop and a city I don’t know, and it was increased by palpable tension between the lecturers. Which was very unfortunate, as it took from the experience.
Nevertheless, I wrote a lot and visited places I would not have seen without this retreat. My first visit to a synagoge and my pure awe when I laid eyes on the exquisite architecture of the Doge’s Palace will be with me forever. I took all four bridges across the Canal Grande, traveled around the main city in a vaporetto (totally recommend that!) and walked the Bridge of Sighs. And I swear this house moves with the waves!
My lecturer agreed to an interview about living as a writer, which gave me many ideas where to go next if I want to write more professionally, but ended with a firm “Don’t quit your job”. Next step: Talking to someone who lives off her writings.
Ciao, Venezia! Grazia for giving me an inspired start into another awesome year!
