Locating and Drifting
The set of eight small islands, located in front of the city of Venice, from which a maritime channel separates them, and joined together by bridges and walkways, takes the name of Isola Della Giudecca.
| VENICE & ISOLA DELLA GIUDECCA (from Google Maps) |
Giudecca is the largest of the islands in
the Venice lagoon.
According to some, it owes its name to the
ancient presence of a Jewish community, testified by the existence of two
synagogues, now destroyed, and by the discovery in the eastern part of the
island, of a milestone with inscriptions in Hebrew.
According to others, the name derives from
the dialectal term 'zudegà', (trad. "Judged") which refers to the
concession of these lands, during the ninth century, to some families that had
been "judged" and exiled from Venice and then recalled in order to
settle there.
The history of this long and narrow strip of land is full of events, and changes and reflects on the thousand contradictions, contrasts and paradoxes that can be found today.
One of the most striking contradictions on Giudecca is between the island's past and present. The island was once an industrial hub, with factories producing everything from ships to textiles. However, as the economy of Venice changed, many of these factories were shut down, and the island began to decline.
Another contradiction is between the island's natural beauty
and its urban decay. Giudecca has stunning views of the Venetian lagoon and the
city skyline, but much of the island's infrastructure is in need of repair.
Many of the buildings are rundown and abandoned, and the streets are often
littered with trash.
One of the most significant social contradictions on Giudecca is between the local residents and the tourists who visit the island. The influx of visitors has brought money and jobs to the island, but it has also brought crowds, noise, and disruption.
Many locals feel that the island has become too commercialized, and they resent the invasion of tourists who come to the island without any respect for the local community.
Today, this is an island where we can find public houses overlooking the prestigious palaces of Venice as well as the homes of the rich and famous (eg. Elton John), only a few tens of meters away from women's prison.
It is possible to see a fisherman repairing his nets in front of the staircase of an antique church, or even see two workers, who have lost their jobs, conversing about their troubles with, in the background, an elegantly dressed couple enjoying a dessert at a pastry table where prices are six times higher than the average market.
It is possible to enter a majestic church full of priceless frescoes and enter a narrow corridor where the windows of semi-ruined houses overlook a couple of meters from those on the opposite side and where the clothes are hung out to dry in the middle of the street or between the two walls.
On the island of Giudecca small worlds, at the antipodes of each other, coexist peacefully and apparently without conflict.
There is no solution of continuity between the interior of a house and the street as if the entrance door were the communication door between two rooms.
Sometimes the living room is literally and neatly arranged on the street, between passers-by.
A set of imaginary lines (ley lines) map these micro-worlds on an unstructured urban chessboard, and, if you really want to grasp the signs and the "genius loci" of this island, the psychogeographic drift, more than an unrealistic exercise, is a duty and the best way.
On this island where there are no cars or even bicycles, where the only means of transport are the boats moored on the coasts and along the canals that intersect it, my project is to wander without being invasive, drifting repeatedly.
I aim to be an insider for the island and its daily life: following signs of what is human, collecting stimuli and signs (also reflections on the glass and water, or shadows) that I will see on walls, sidewalks, floors, doors, windows, shop windows, water channels and poles.