The Ligurian Sea, Genoa

The Ligurian Sea is a part of the Mediterranean Sea positioned between the northwestern coast of Italy, the southeastern coast of France, and to the north of the islands of Corsica and Elba.

The western boundaries of the sea are an estimate at best, as mapping accuracy depends on where the sea actually ends, and there are many opinions for same.

The distance from Pisa to Nice is 251 km (156 mi), and from Genoa to Elba is 207 km (129 mi). The max depth is estimated at more than 2,850 m (9,300 ft.).

Called “Mar Ligure” in Italian and “Mer Ligurienne” in French, Genoa and Livorno are its chief ports and the sea is well served by regional ferries.
Sourced, The World Atlas website.

Art & Life, Genoa

I imagine that the person parking their bike might not have been as excited as I was about this quiet space here in the city of Genova.

I love the colour and textures of that pale golden building.  I love that I always find this particular space by chance, while wandering on my way someplace else.

Light is everything here.  There is the way the city looks in that deep rich late afternoon autumn light. I photographed a few city buildings last week, simply because the light had changed how I remembered the cityscape along via XX Settembre.  I get excited over a blue-sky day and the promise of light in those difficult to reach parts of this tightly-built city.  Then a stormy sky promises quite another effect, as the beautiful roofs quietly reveal their full beauty against a backdrop of clouds.

Loving Genova ...

A Celebration ...

The wish to travel seems to me characteristically human; the desire to move, to satisfy your curiosity or ease your fears, to change the circumstances of your life, to be a stranger, to make a friend, to experience an exotic landscape, to risk the unknown …
Theroux

Sourced from Steve McCurry’s photography blog.

Sometimes the photographs, I take here in Genova, are a simple celebration of being back in this place that I love.  It’s not always easy living here, without language, without anything resembling huge amounts of money, without family ... but I keep coming back.  My camera loves me for it.  My photographer’s eyes appreciate it too. 

I find something of New Zealand in the sea and the hills.  I enjoy the quiet kindness of the Genovese met along the way.  These days, I am reading my way into their history.  Steven Epstein’s book covers the period between 958-1528.  Titled ... Genoa and the Genoese, it captures something of the complicated and rich history of this Italian city that so few people I know seem to know.

Hanna came with me this time and she surely fell for the city, hoping her plane might be cancelled ... just for a few days.  There was so much more she wanted to see, and do, and photograph.  I watch it happen… everyone who comes here with me has fallen under the spell of this city so far. 

It’s good to be back.

Holy Light, Genoa

We are lonesome animals.
We spend all of our life trying to be less lonesome.
One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say and to feel
‘Yes, that is the way it is, or at least that is the way I feel it.’
You’re not as alone as you thought.
— John Steinbeck

Quote sourced from the blog of the truly gifted photographer, Steve McCurry.

Yesterday, as we worked through our day, Hanna, Francesca and I found time to pop into my favourite church here in Genova ... located in Piazza Maddalena.

I was giving Hanna a little information about photography and explained ... there are all the rules but then you can break them and, sometimes, that’s where the magic happens.

This is one of those shots, for me anyway.  I was handholding my camera in an incredibly dark church, kind of falling in love with the light and voila, the light let me have a little of its beautiful self.

One of the many things I love about Genoa ...

But perhaps I should begin with the people I meet here in this city I love so well.

Yesterday Hanna and I spent the day with Francesca.  We were putting together a project I have in mind and Francesca had kindly agreed to come along and translate.  She just fitted right in as we wandered and worked our way through the day.  Mille grazie, Francesca.  We had the most excellent time.

And in-between meeting the people we needed to meet, she introduced us to parts of the city we wouldn’t have known about and wouldn’t have dared enter.

Thanks to Francesca, we were able to wander the halls of this grand old house and voila, there was this room, puppet-show in place ... but of course.

There are always these unexpected magical moments here in the ancient city, also called La Superba ... It is also called la Superba - the Superb one - due to its glorious past.

Cees Nooteboom, and a Genoa Image

Photography is a more intense way of “looking”. No photographer simply travels. He cannot allow himself the luxury of just looking around. He does not see landscapes; he sees photographs, images of reality as it might appear in a photograph.
Cees Nooteboom in 1982 in the Holland Herald, KLM’s in-flight magazine.

On the way 'home', when in Genoa

The question is not what you look at, but what you see.
Henry David Thoreau

Growing up in small-town New Zealand, the same town until I was 20, I had landmarks I knew when wandering home ...

I lived next to an intermediate school, the once famous Mosgiel Woollen Mill was nearby. Saddle Hill and the Maungatua’s gave me a sense of direction.  I knew my world there and yes, I have landmarks here in my Antwerp life too, but the angel creature in the photograph below is part of the remains of the cloister of Sant’Andrea, a Romanesque ruin that used to be part of an ancient church with the same name.  Sadly, or perhaps best for those people in that particular time ... it was demolished in the 1800’s, when Via Dante was realised.

The cloister ruin has become a very real part of ‘my way home’ when in Genova, Italy and I couldn’t resist stepping ‘inside’ with my camera last time I was there.  It was empty of tourists and locals.  I spent some time just photographing the details of that beautiful place.

Franco Fondacaro at Work, Genova

It seems entirely appropriate to post this photograph of Franco waving to me…

He was the only artist set up when I wandered by early this morning. Today is a religious holiday in Genova.  It’s the day of their patron saint, Giovanni. 

We exchanged greetings then he took me by the arm and we strolled over to the cafe for coffee together.  And just like Roberto in Lerici, we didn’t have much language in common but it was lovely to spend time with him.

I wandered on down via San Lorenzo afterwards, veering right in search of focaccia, then on into the caruggi.  About halfway into that walk, I realised I was deeply exhausted and wondered why I was taking on a stroll that involved a rather steep incline on the return ... considering that I was operating on 4 hours of sleep.

I made it back to the apartment but needed to lie down for 10 minutes.  I may have used up almost all of me and have this wicked plan to sleep tomorrow away.  We’ll see, I recover relatively quickly usually.

So anyway, in the last few hours of travel, there has been the realisation that I left my favourite foundation and perfume back in Genova. My idea was to wait until the sweat had dried before applying it.  In all honesty though, I was cleaning right up until I left and the sweat never did dry.  Then there was the man sitting in my train seat on the train to Milan, but he accepted the bad news graciously and turned to be okay.  He managed to prevent my suitcase from causing serious damage when it rolled out into the aisle.  Italian trains often have those little rooms of 6 seats on each carriage ... I suffer.

Then the airport was reached in comfort and style (as opposed to being crammed on the hot and crowded airport bus), via the Malpensa train from Milan Central.

However then came the overweight suitcase ... 36 euros.  I’m blaming the gifts.  And there was the small matter of an abandoned suitcase up near check-in that had security waiting for the police, alarming the check-in woman who had charged me for my excess baggage.  I was happy to leave the area ...

Anyway, waiting for the plane, hoping I can sleep on it. I’ll leave you with Franco, out on Via San Lorenzo, in amongst all the artwork.

Amedeo Baldovino’s Art

At dinner last night, Amedeo said I should tell him which work I liked best of his and he’ll paint me one like it.  I do adore that man but he took it a step further.  Laughing, he told me that he will be painting a studio with Di Mackey Photography into the city scene because that’s what he does so well .... he mixes reality with fantasy and imagination.

I loved the idea of that ...
Now to tell the Belgian bloke all the reasons why Genova would be such a good place to live.

Meanwhile, to Amedeo ... a long life to the visionaries and the dreamers amongst us!