The Wild Man of Venice

Last thing last Tuesday, I was visited by the Wild Man of Venice - Giorgio Foresto.
Foresto is not his given name, but his chosen name. In the Venetian dialect Foresto is the name given to a foreigner or a forester, or a man of the forest - all identities the Wild Man, as he refers to himself, has adopted.

Foresto is an artist living in Pellestrina (way out on a narrow peninsular between the lagoon and the gulf), who happens to have spent a considerable amount of time in New Zealand. About 20 years ago he spent 8 months living at Hundertwassa's place up north, and during another trip he spent a few months decorating a fellow Venetian's restaurant somewhere near Picton.

The Wild Man of Venice, in a less wild moment.

His partner is currently in NZ, travelling around the Coromandel, making drawings which she will bring home to Venice and paint into huge 'beautiful' landscapes (as opposed to what Foresto describes as the horrible subject matter of the Biennale, all blood and blasphemy). She paints 'paradises' before they are 'lost'. But only for herself, she won't speak of selling - 'She is even more wild than me!' (An exclamation made with a huge grin.)

The Wild Man's map.

The Wild Man bases his character (somewhat anyway) on a sculpture of Homo Selvaticus, here in Venice.
Homo Selvaticus can be found carved in relief in marble on the front of the house of Tinto Brass, a local pornography film director, on the canal just near the church of San Trovaso.
(I got him to draw me a map, shown above.)

Get off the vapoertto at the Zattere stop...

Head left, then just before the bridge turn right up the first canal...

Past the gondola building workshop on the other side...

Past the church of San Trovaso...

Across the canal...

And there it is - Tinto Brass the pornographer's house.

And there beside the corner window on the first floor...

The Wild Man - Homo Selvaticus.

The sculpture depicts an man whose body is covered in hair, he has a long beard, and wild, tussled hair to his shoulders. In one hand he holds a club ('for crushing women' - not animals?!), and the other ('this is terrible!'), the other is pointing to God. ('Even the wild man is pointing to God!' - Foresto is so indignant.)

Giorgio Foresto has returned twice now, both days spending a few hours at a time reading his way through the Australian Aboriginal art books held in the boxes. He is enthralled by them. And he is in no hurry, unlike the rest of the crowd.






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Update.
30 June.


Found another Wild Man / Homo Selvaticus.

The Wild Man of San Servolo Island

We found the Wild Man last night while exploring San Servolo Island with our Biennale buddies. Well, while they gave us a tour of the island. We were on San Servolo for the finale party on Osloo, one of the works of the Speech Matters (Danish pavilion) exhibition - a floating bar / radio station / public space. We will probably go back tomorrow night for a final finale. Then Finn will spend Saturday, Sunday, Monday helping to dismantle it.

Party at Osloo, the floating offshoot of the Danish pavilion, San Servolo.

25 June 2011