My photographs show a rather unknown Venice : a very inner one, far off the beaten track; and also a Venice by night, in its hidden corners, surrounded by darkness and silence.
This Venice seems perhaps to be unreal and timeless with its winding streets lit by mysterious lanterns, dreaming palaces which seem to float on the canals, dark bridges pending on walls, stately gondolas gliding between coloured poles, intimate squares, romantic gardens, and so many other secret wonders... Venice is tender, so tender.
Even its most beautiful palaces are not forbidding : the facade of the Cà d'Oro, in olden days leafed in gold, opens out on a welcoming and graceful portico and on delicately adorned windows as laces. Your hand will rest with pleasure on the massive white corner stones of patrician houses or on the velvety bricks of walls bathing in water.
Everywhere there are steps going down into the canals, steps on which you can sit, dreaming, your eyes wandering upon the wavelets that come and kiss the stone, while a silent gondola glides in the shadow of a bridge.
Lovers settle on its stone parapet, and they whisper together, observing the canal without even seeing it, its tall, tightly ranged houses, and the evening light outlining a balcony full of foliage, out of which an old piano sounds as if complaining.
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