Brothers Gonna Work it Out

or the week of brotherliness at the  Frari in Venice or how we dabbled in King Lear, but almost turned it into a tragicomedy

So I had enough of the vanities and the power games going on in the class during our trip to Venice in 1997, and since we were staying in a student hotel near the Frari, which translates into "brothers" indicating the Franscicans, who run this place, I quit and went into the church. All the while - and I'm not making this up - an electric storm was coming down outside, while I was happy to find out that there actually was a service going on at the church. I sat down in front of Titian's Assumption and listened to intercessions put forward by the participants reflecting brotherliness among people, for as I learned they were celebrating the week of brotherliness. At some point even I was invited to come forward, but because I do not actually speak Italian I gestured and declined their kind offer. Anyway I was very relieved afterwards and the air was very clear after the storm.

So I went back to our place we were staying, where in the meantime my professor had been left alone by the others. Like King Lear he had to find out the hard way that he was powerless. His vanity had him consider a little scheme where he would choose those students who would have the honour of accompanying him to have a meal at a restaurant. Yet apparently nobody wanted to play along. Thus I said I would join him and we had a wonderful little dinner, I still remember that I had some great porcini polenta. The rest of the week was very calm and we had some fun, e.g. finding out about the traghetto, but then I had to leave a little bit earlier because I felt the great urge to attend a symposium in Düsseldorf. So tragedy struck again. For my professor was suffering from the early stages of Parkinson's disease and he couldn't very well carry heavy objects, but he would have loved to take a copy of a catalogue of the Vienna Group, which was lying for anybody to take away for free at the Austrian pavillon, back home. Especially because he knew some of the artists personally, but nobody would help him.