At one time, facades of some Treviso buildings were frescoed with designs made to look like tapestry. So many buildings were decorated that Treviso was known as “the painted city.” Now only fresco fragments remain.
This morning, I visit the fish market, situated on an island very near the historic center.
The market sells fish of every kind from the nearby sea, but I’m not buying. I wouldn’t know what to do with these strange creatures. I’ll stick to fish sticks.
Walking around Treviso under its arched walkways is a pleasure.
But there’s also graffiti galore. What would the nuns who lived in this convent have thought of its desecration?
The choice of laces in this fabric shop window attracts me, but I don’t go in, saving the visit for another day.
I aim to visit the Santa Caterina Museum, but it is closed. This image on a building across from the museum catches my attention. It seems to be cast as a shadow against the building’s facade.
The wire netting creating the effect can be seen up close. The work is by artist Mario Martinelli, who through his wire sculptures seeks to achieve an absence of substance. The work is a memorial to Memi Botter, a well-known art restorer, who, with his father and brother, recovered much of the artistic heritage of Treviso after the war. It’s an interesting technique, one I found in another Martinelli piece elsewhere in Treviso.
I see a crowd gathered in a church and wander in to find an exhibition of historic posters produced for the liberation of Treviso from the Nazis and Fascists. The exhibit is part of a series of events to celebrate eighty years of liberation. The partisans had already freed Treviso when the U.S. forces came in, but the situation was still dangerous, communication difficult. These posters provided information and encouragement.
The 25th of April is a holiday celebrating Liberation Day throughout Italy.
This teacher talks of the work his students created for the exhibit, which included producing a podcast portraying the lives of people who lived through those tumultous times in Treviso.
Each group of high school students reads a summary of the particular episode they had created. Unfortunately, each student reads so quickly I am unable to understand most of what is said.
The students give me a bookmark showing QR codes to access the podcasts, which I will run in 3/4 time if I need to slow down the Italian.
The presentation ends with a group photo. It is inspiring to see that these young people are involved with history and have used technology to learn from the past.
Of course, they use technology for most everything else, too.
Yesterday I came across this fountain, where, after taking photos for a young couple posing one on each side, they in turn obliged me.
The fully-functioning fountain is a replica. Today I come across the original from 1559, now worse for wear. At the time it was placed in front of City Hall, fed by waters from the river, except when red and white wine spilled out for three days to celebrate each new mayor. It was destroyed and removed when Napoleon took over the city. Now it has been brought back on display in the city historic center.
It’s easy to get lost in Treviso’s narrow streets.
One little surprise after another. This sign says that kissing is obligatory in this park. I look for lovers but find empty playground equipment.
I decide to attend a concert this evening of music by Bach, music said to be for “Easter time”.
I catch just a bit of the presentation (in Italian, of course) – something about candelabras and light. But once the music gets going, it fills up the auditorium and my heart.
Treviso is a perfect fit for my month-long stay: small, historic, charming, without hordes of tourists. It also claims to have originated tiramisu, which I will have to try, at least once or twice, maybe more?