My brother just got back from a trip to Venice, with terrific photos to share. I haven’t been there in years, so let’s call this a travelogue by proxy.
Looking at these pictures, it all came flooding back to me like an old memory: the seawater smells, the colors and textures, the tiny streets and dark alleys — it was all so old and mysterious I didn’t know what crime to commit first.
When I write about color in southern Europe, it’s about color that’s vivid and sensual, but still Old World and slightly muted. Those Riviera pastels aren’t Barbie Doll pink, they’re more like washed out browns and red ochres, with hints of sorbet.
The colors of Venice are much the same as the French and Italian Rivera, but with the influences of a Roman palette and Moorish architecture. And I’ll say this one more time — I would absolutely prefer my walls to look like these, ancient and crumbling with layers of accretion, than the Park Avenue porcelain look that says look but don’t touch.
(Images: Scott Chamberlain)