Pandemic in Venice and Venetian Microstories / by Melissa Hefferlin

The Venice Report

Daud (Akhriev) and I spent more than a month in Venice between May and July, harvesting inspiration from the heart of Venice, Italy, while it was relatively empty from pandemic lock-down. I focused on imagining small dramas unfolding in pen and ink drawings, to be later converted to paintings, prints and scarves. Daud spent his days on non-stop plein air painting. By the time we left he was on small-talk terms with a large portion of the gondoliers because they spent the days in the street together. I was the same with the fishmongers, silk venders and other shopkeepers whom I haunted in search of still life objects and textiles. The trip was one I’ll never forget, and I hope that the images pass on the magic to you. See the Venetian work presented on this Cutter & Cutter digital unveiling.

Or jump directly to Melissa’s Venetian drawings or Daud’s plein air work from Venice.

Backstory Competition

Because of him she always wore stripes

This hand-pulled print proof was cut into a sheet of rubber and the print pulled in Venice, based on a drawing of the same name. I had an idea about a backstory for this woman with her shopping bag and her stripes, but I released a competition for a 100-word microstory for her. The winner was to be chosen by Daud Akhriev, and the prize was an original print on Japanese kozo or unryu paper. We ended up with TWO WINNERS. Thank you to each participant. I loved them all. Here are the submissions, formatted identically for consistency:

  1. Sofia sensed the sound of traditional Italian opera. It was full of improvisation, with ascending and descending notes creating the emotion she remembered from her grandmother’s record player. she moved to the edge of Ponte de Chiodo - the only bridge in Venice without railings - to determine the source of the music. It grew louder as a lone gondolier approached, and he raised his hat. ‘Signora, would you like a trip aboard my gondola - your striped dress looks captivating against your hair?’ They celebrated their first meeting at the same bridge each year, and she always wore stripes. - Stuart Weston TIED FOR FIRST PLACE
    (Artist note: I wondered if he used the married form of addres, ‘signora,’ on purpose?)

  2. She came to Venice to escape the doldrums of loneliness. The nearly empty streets she wandered: lost; sad; alone. Then she saw him, The Gondolier. His smile sparkled as a beacon, like a lighthouse on a dark shore. His eyes bore deep and bid her welcome. She booked a tour and sat in his gondola. He showed her the secrets of Venice; she looked only at him. Five afternoons, five tours; and, still, she saw only him. “Meet me here tomorrow, 7pm,” he said. “We will dine together.” But she never saw him again, though still, every year, she returned. -Andrea Heffernan TIED FOR FIRST PLACE

  3. Her stripes are a message: he will notice her while he is rowing in the channel. He will see everyday a beautiful woman wearing the same stripes as his T-shirt, in the same place as his boat, and he will note her between millions of tourists. She wants to tell him, “Guardame, sono Veneziana come te.” - Carola Moretti

  4. Camilla often found herself here. Just as the tides are bewitched by the moon, her heart’s longing brought her to this place of meetings and miracles. Sighing, she slipped beneath the rail, feeling the slick surface of the gondola. A sweet sadness washed over her, recalling first casting her eyes on Papa - proudly perched at the helm of this fine vessel. She felt the presence of the gondolier, quietly leaning into her reverie. “Your Papa’s spirit is here. He knew your heart would lead you to him”. “Si, Paulo, the timeliness of our meeting was fate’s gift to us both”. “The gondola “Camilla”, his joy is now yours to carry your Papa’s memory . Let us go, Camilla! We will take her for a morning row with your Papa guiding us to your next port.”
    - Samantha Palmer

  5. Though Lucia had never walked these streets, the city felt familiar from his stories. All of her life, her Nonno spoke of Venice- the mystery and love hidden in each alley and canal. For two years he trained to be a gondolier, like three generations of men before him. In 1940 he finished his training with such pride; his mama was his first passenger. After the war came, he left Venice and never returned. Nonno’s final wish was that his granddaughter would visit his home. Tonight, Lucia felt less alone, and closer to him, than she had since he died. - Mary Kate McClure

  6. She spent a lot of time in prison, because of him. - Nandini Makrandi (with a wink)

  7. He always loved it when she wore stripes. “My little zebra,” he called her, taking delight as he bought her all manners of striped clothing. Black or blue or red stripes. Narrow or wide. He has bought her so many striped clothes over the years that they have taken over most of her wardrobe. But she doesn’t mind. Each item is a reminder of the years they shared and the memories they made. Now his eyes have gone milky-white, but he likes to claim he can still tell when she’s wearing her stripes. “I know when my little zebra is here,” he likes to say. So she wears stripes every day, to make sure he always gets it right. - Celine Jeanjean

  8. She fell in love with him the moment she saw him, with his straw boater tipped at a rakish angle and his inky black hair dangling in his eyes above a slightly crooked smile. He called out to her, offering her a free ride in his gondola since her dress matched his own striped top so perfectly. She blushed and stammered a reply as he punted them away down the canal. It was the best afternoon of her life. She would always regret the shyness that stopped her asking for his name, that feared asking him to stay after he dropped her back at the pontoon. She has been wearing stripes ever since as she walks the canals, searching for his crooked smile. - Celine Jeanjean

  9. The night he died, they wore stripes—dressing up like venetian gondoliers for a fancy dress party. A nod to when they first met, sharing a gondola. It happened while he was out to buy a nice bottle of wine. She waited for him at home, putting the finishing touches to her hair. She wore the same clothes, the stripes, for a long time after that, trying to trick herself into believing that he was still just out for wine and would return to her soon. In time her grief faded, which was worse, in a way, bringing with it the fear that one day the memory of him might fade too. She wears the stripes still, to keep him with her every day. - Celine Jeanjean

  10. And lastly, my own:
    She held his beauty against him. His profession, too. The language barrier was problematic. And yet…there he was. Not out of her thoughts, or her evenings; not out of her bed. The intensity terrified her, as did the surety that he was a playboy with a boat, in a ridiculously pretty city, and that he would leave her for another tourist or a local Catholic girl. The tattoo was a surprise. Lunch with his family another. When he fell and hit his head she cried, “oh God, not like this…” Years later, the beauty remains. And always stripes.