Artist Jacopo d'Antonio Sansovino (2 July 1486 – 27 November 1570)
Doges’ Palace - Venice, Italy Mars & Neptune Sculptures by Jacopo Sansovino - The Giants Staircase got its name from the two statues that were carved by Jacopo Sansovino and installed in 1557. The colossal size of the statues was perhaps intended as an antidote to Agostino’s grandeur. They were meant to dwarf the doge and remind him that he was not really a king, but only a servant to the greatness of the Republic.
Sou um animal sentimental
Me apego facilmente ao que desperta meu desejo
Tente me obrigar a fazer o que não quero
E você vai logo ver o que acontece Acho que entendo o que você quis me dizer
Mas existem outras coisas Consegui meu equilíbrio cortejando a insanidade,
Tudo está perdido mas existem possibilidades
Tínhamos a idéia, mas você mudou os planos
Tínhamos um plano, você mudou de idéia Já passou, já passou - quem sabe outro dia…
Antes eu sonhava, agora já não durmo Quando foi que competimos pela primeira vez? O que ninguém percebe é o que todo mundo sabe
Não entendo terrorismo, falávamos de amizade
Não estou mais interessado no que sinto
Não acredito em nada além do que duvido Você espera respostas que eu não tenho mas
Não vou brigar por causa disso
Até penso duas vezes se você quiser ficar
Minha laranjeira verde, por que está tão prateada?
Foi da lua dessa noite, do sereno da madrugada Tenho um sorriso bobo, parecido com soluço Enquanto o caos segue em frente
Com toda a calma do mundo.
Most alluring of all Venice’s attractions, however, were the Republic’s women, who were not only beautiful but famously flirtatious and as free with their favours as the men who pursued them. Nowhere in Europe was the game of love played with more relish than within Venice’s watery borders. With its winding canals, mysterious dark passages and damp musty smells, the city reeked of sex and promised romance, torrid affairs or quick casual encounters - whatever one wanted, given freely in what the English traveller Lady Mary Wortley Montagu called an atmosphere of ‘universal liberty.’ Venice was quite simply the sex-tourism capital of Europe, the place where young male aristocrats on the Grand Tour congregated to scatter their wild oats. Its maze of dead-end alleys, canals, quays, and narrow bridges seemed to have been designed specifically with intrigue in mind, as did its anonymous black gondolas with their discreetly curtained cabins just big enough to hold two lovers.
'Alla mattina una massetta, al dopo dinar una bassetta, alla sera una donnetta’ ran a local Venetian proverb - a little Mass in the morning, a little game of cards after dinner, a little woman in the evening. Venetian women were renowned for being beautiful, well-dressed and available. They bleached their hair a streaky blonde by pulling strands of it through the crowns of wide-brimmed straw hats and sitting out on their roof terraces all day in the sun. They adorned themselves with dresses made of sumptuous imported fabrics and wore fabulous pearls and precious stones around their necks. A surprising number of women of all classes with sexually available. The city had been overrun with courtesans for more than a hundred years, and although young unmarried virgins of the patrician classes were safely cloistered away from sexual predators in the Republic’s fifty-odd convents, their mothers and even their maids enjoyed an unprecedented amount of freedom. Allowed out all day either on their own or with their 'cicisbeo,’ a male companion or lover who was officially sanctioned by their families, they moved freely about the city on foot or by gondola, at liberty to do whatever they pleased. Anonymous in their carnival masks, androgynous in their floor-length black cloaks, these liberated wives played cards in the back rooms of theatres, frequented low-life taverns and smart cafes, and even visited male friends in their private casini, the small, luxuriously-appointed houses or apartments used by the wealthy for gambling and secret liaisons. No one knew exactly where they went to or what they got up to and in most cases, no one cared. Even God, it appeared, smiled upon love affairs in the Serenissima [Venice], where 'Christ Defending the Woman Taken in Adultery’ was one of the favourite subjects tackled by the city’s painters’
Casanova’s Women: The Great Seducer and the Women He Loved // Judith Summers