Book Review: Dream of Venice in Black and White

When I learned about the release of Dream of Venice in Black and White (Bella Figura Publications, 2018), I had to get my hands on it. The book represents something near and dear to my travel experiences.

Any lover of travel will tell you there are a few moments you simply never forget.

As a Midwestern boy of nine, I remember the first time I saw snow-capped mountains that towered above timberline from the back seat of the family Oldsmobile on U.S. 2 in Montana. As an adult, I also recall shaking my head in awe upon my initial approach to the south rim of the Grand Canyon.

But I think I let out an audible gasp when I turned a corner in Venice and walked into St. Mark’s Square for the first time. This was before billboards littered the ancient, iconic sight lines.  Pigeons might have outnumbered people that day. There was time to stop and admire the place in all its historic splendor.

You see, it was the dead of winter.

In the brief Venice stay that followed, my wife Cindy and I explored beyond the famous square, joyfully lost at times in back alleys and along dock sides the few winter tourists had not discovered. When our legs grew weary, we boarded vaporettos, soaking in the revealed sights of each new turn along the canals, hardly noticing the bracing chill of March breezes coming off the water.

A decade later, we visited Venice again. That sweltering July excursion was far inferior. I remember being pushed from behind in the square while attempting to photograph the Byzantine grandeur of St. Mark’s Basilica. It was nothing malicious. The square was just that crowded.

Ever since, I have given Venice-bound travelers I encounter two pieces of unsolicited counsel: Winter is the best time for a visit, and getting lost is a good thing. My advice prompts quizzical looks and usually goes unheeded.

Dream of Venice in Black and White is a collection of photographs from the Venetian winter depicted, as the title implies, only in black and white. More than 50 master photographers, working mostly beyond well-traveled tourist paths, contributed to the 96-page volume.

Editor and Bella Figura founder JoAnn Locktov also has produced Dream of Venice, and Dream of Venice Architecture, so this volume completes a trilogy of tributes. But this one is offered mainly as a collection of photographs.

Some might object to the absence of color and text. After all, the striking contrasts between indigo waters and ancient stone contribute greatly to Venice’s visual appeal. A few words of historical context could pave the way toward a better understanding of some pictures.

But there are plenty of other places to see that show. This book reveals a slice of everyday life in Venice that each visitor — or potential visitor — would do well to understand. It is a book built on the genuine premise that a picture is worth a thousand words.

Venetian novelist, playwright and poet Tiziano Scarpa does contribute some words of introduction. He notes a study 30 years ago concluded that 12 million tourists would be the practical maximum Venice could accommodate in a year’s time. Today’s totals approach 30 million annually.

“Venice does not have outlying neighborhoods or suburbs to decompress them and provide an outlet,” Scarpa writes. “Its borders finish brusquely on a brink beyond which there is only the water of the lagoon.”

That truly unique quality makes Venice one of the most captivating cities on the planet. Unfortunately, most tourists miss seeing the daily life of Venetians amid a frenzied obligation to check off must-see architectural sites before their next scheduled departure at the train station or cruise terminal.

This book champions a different approach to the city.

On page 34, photographer Matteo Chinellato presents a solitary pedestrian, stationary and weathering an evening snowstorm armed only with an umbrella. In Venice, snowstorms are few. Shelter for passersby can be difficult to find.

The lens of Alain Hamon reveals on page 50 a robed priest walking through an open space, greatly outnumbered by pigeons. To some detriment, pigeons are a part of daily life here.

One of my favorites: a Robert Schonfeld submission titled “After Church, Cannaregio” on page 54 that shows a bundled-up elderly couple taking careful steps, arm-in-arm, on an otherwise empty footpath.

These scenes represent a Venice the average tourist will not experience. My descriptions do them no justice.

There’s a 2016 picture from Jutta Krenzer of people protesting the presence of cruise ships. This is a city that lives with chronic concerns about its fragile lagoon and flooded future.

“So what can you do about it?” Scarpa asks in his introduction. “Perhaps a paradoxical way of helping this city would be not to come at all. Instead, stay at home and leaf through books of photos like this one, which inhabits the city delicately, making it bloom with a light caress made up of splendid images.”

As a traveler and a lover of Venice, I cannot endorse Scarpa’s “not come at all” sentiment. But I certainly understand what inspires it. My hope is that this volume will lead to a greater appreciation of fragile yet determined Venice, and a people who persevere against floods and forecasts of doom.

Sit down with Dream of Venice in Black and White and allow yourself to be transported for a few minutes to the canals and open spaces of the city. Be thankful it captures the full Venetian winter — and few tourists.

Full disclosure: I was provided with a complimentary copy of this book for the purpose of offering an honest, objective review of its contents.

Rediscovering the Oregon Trail


Just more than 90 years ago, my late father was born in Jefferson County, Nebraska. This rural county on the Kansas border has been losing population for decades. The interstate highway system never touches the county, bypassing its county seat of Fairbury.

But this area was once the focal point of the nation’s most daring, ambitious travelers.

In the late 1850s, the Oregon Trail brought quite a few travelers through Jefferson County. It’s possible to walk on the actual trail, preserved in Rock Creek State Historical Park. You can still see the deep ruts the steady stream of wagon trains carved into the landscape more than 150 years ago.

This was also the route of the Pony Express. Here at Rock Creek Station, riders would quickly change horses and continue their sprints across the prairie. Recruits were to be “wiry of build, and preferably orphans.” There were stations like this across the Pony Express route, spaced according to the length of trail on which a horse would begin to tire.

At this point in the Oregon Trail, Rock Creek was little more than a ravine. But it posed one of the first major topographical obstacles for the westbound travelers. The property owner built a bridge across Rock Creek, and charged the travelers a toll for its use.

This remote station was the scene of a murder that grabbed national attention. “Wild Bill” Hickok was judged to have acted in self-defense, but the shootout was fictionalized and exploited by dime novelists as Hickok’s reputation and legend grew.

The difficulties faced along the Oregon Trail are well-documented. Illness claimed the largest number of lives. It was a risky passage with no guarantees of success. Of the half-million who made the trip during a 20-year stretch, about 10 percent died en route.

That’s quite a bit of history for an area largely unknown to the rest of the country.

Visiting Rock Creek Station’s restored buildings and visitor center requires the purchase of a one-day Nebraska Park Entry Permit for the modest sum of $5. Finding the place is a bit of a challenge. It’s a few miles east of Fairbury at the intersection of 710th Rd. and 574th Ave.

Discoveries like this will enhance your travel experience. Get off the main roads and find out more about the states and regions you visit. And while you’re at it, try to imagine how difficult such travel was in the days before paved roads and internal combustion engines.

Ireland’s Gap of Dunloe


We all visit places that are greatly hyped and yet sometimes quite disappointing upon arrival. Then there are places about which you’ve heard relatively little, but that prove quite impressive from the first moment of your visit.

Put the Gap of Dunloe in Ireland’s County Kerry on that list of deeply satisfying, largely undersold experiences.

Just a few miles from the popular city of Killarney, the Gap of Dunloe does show up in Internet searches and pictured in the windows of tour operations. They can sell you a combination of bus excursion, hike and boat ride that forms a round-trip tour from Killarney.

But you need not part with a lot of money to enjoy this natural treasure.

If you have transportation (or can arrange a taxi ride), go to the parking lot at Kate Kearney’s cottage. The hiking trail starts there and continues for about 10 miles. The paved but narrow road will take you through green, rocky meadows, alongside sparkling lakes and eventually through the pass (or gap) from which the area gets its name. Along the way, you’ll see sheep, dodge horse-drawn carriages (and the manure they leave behind) and even a few automobiles (people do live in this area). But the enduring memories will be forged from the cool, fresh air and the impressive scenery on the edge of Killarney National Park.

County Kerry is famous for its two scenic drives: The Dingle Peninsula drive and the Ring of Kerry circuit. Hiking the Gap of Dunloe can be combined with either one of these drives, which can begin a short distance from the cottage.

A few words of warning: unlike those scenic drives, the Gap of Dunloe route is not a loop. If you walk forward four miles, you’ll be walking back that same distance. For families, it pays to hire one of those horse-drawn carriages (called jaunting carts) for at least part of the trip. You’ll also need protection from the elements. There are few shelters along the route, so have rain gear and a warm coat ready for the changing weather conditions.

This might be obvious advice, but it is worth adding: have your camera batteries charged and ready for action. Visiting the Gap of Dunloe will make you thankful anew for digital media. You’ll want to take far more pictures than would have been practical in the days of film.