I traveled to Venice for the Carnival after some friends had urged me to do so. I was not expecting very much. I was more excited about the city itself. Then I found myself there, in St. Mark's Square, caressed by the gentle sunlight of February, surrounded by costumed figures and by tourists.
It was as if I were on some elusive stage, amidst fabulous sets, among enchanted characters. There were Greek goddesses, Japanese monsters, a Venetian noble giving his arm to Columbine, a clown in a medieval ruff, a Rococo damsel with an African tribal chief. They kept coming, with slow, film-like steps, bowing and posing in the mist-laden, golden light.
The sight was breath-taking.
It was like adolescent love, for everything vanished but what the heart desired, as I greedily reveled till evening in the spirit of the Carnival. At night, tired and euphoric, I saw with closed eyes the same processing figures, as if on a screen before me, and the light, the mist, the glitter, the motley of colours and enigmatic inner fire of the decorations entranced me all over again.
Each and every figure seemed imbued with mystery. No one could tell whether the costume concealed a man or a woman, a fresh young face or a wrinkled old one. Legends, fairy-tales and mythological beasts come alive in them, conjuring up in us anew the childhood submerged behind our civilized, overheated imaginations. Suddenly I thought of porcelain, of 'white gold.' That too is enigmatic, its shine like a precious stone presenting the world in a different, deceptively dazzling light. In my fancy, the sight of the sun's disc, glowing through the mist, and the dim radiance of Venetian splendour were manifested at once in porcelain. I could not resist the challenge. I was drawn to evoke in this noble material the waking dream of Venice's magic.
I imagined that Herend lads and lasses had dressed in Herend-patterned costumes and were strolling there in St. Mark's Square. Tourists in there thousands were taking their picture and filming them, and they, meanwhile, were turning into porcelain . . . into sparkling, opalescent 'white gold.' |
