I felt a constant duality between the colorful, exciting city of masks, costumes, actors and artisans where everyone can also be anonymous and equal.

As a photographer, I was allowed in to shoot in many places and attended events and parties as a “fly on the wall”.  

There is something intriguing for people in being about to hide your identity behind a mask…
During the Carnival, you no longer have to be yourself; you can be both who you are and someone else –whoever you like.  

We woke up early to see the people in their costumes, but in this special light.  We see they are wearing their evening wear early in the morning…  

And if it’s not clear who is who, this also creates a feeling that everyone is equal… This duality is intriguing – and mirrors that of the city itself
– one moment it is alive and colorful yet the moment these parades, events, and focal points moved aside, it was like being in a theater within a theater

Suddenly, I am like Alice in Wonderland, in the midst of another play altogether –one about daily life of the Venetians.  I didn’t feel like one among millions of tourists who come each year.  Instead it was like turning a page in a book, now showing a totally different period. 

Of course the backdrop in Venice is the marvelous architecture, and the light that filters in and highlights the many angles, and triangles which the people pass through… 

And on this backdrop, I saw two old men with baskets, returning from somewhere…  Their slow-paced walking invited me to become curious alongside them.  “Where am I actually hurrying to?”, I asked myself, and slowed my pace, my camera following.  

And like Alice, I noticed so many intriguing details — the iron hand-rail next to the stairs, a quaint inner courtyard…   A very tall man passes by and I suddenly feel so small. 
I spotted a huge cat nearby, not far from a small, thin elderly woman… And then a man with a black hat on his head, comes to stand with a church behind him. It wasn’t clear whether he was confused or perhaps the church itself had gotten lost, in particular because the church was just a shaft of light…

I began discovering more and more details, when looking down the alleyways, seeing who actually lives there. 
In glimpses of the residents’ day-to-day lives there I noticed quite a few elderly people.
Here they were, living their lives —carrying their shopping home. And then I heard sounds emerging from their kitchens and smelled the scent of home cooking or of fresh laundry as I saw them hanging their hand-washed clothing out on lines.  

I saw what seemed to be the loneliness in some of the older residents, but also the sense of belonging and continuity of the Venetian population

I could sense both silence and sadness, yet in the next moment I saw kids playfully wiping ice cream on one another’s faces

There was a scent of fried fish wafting from somewhere, and yet a minute later the sweet scent of laundry powder from a young woman’s baby stroller as they passed.
I looked closer, noticing her red scarf and, peeking inside the carriage I saw… ** 

I also saw people working on jobs particular to Venice –like men making long oars for gondolas— and I could smell the smoke from the iron smith, and see a woman bringing a costume to life.  

I was constantly searching for the soft light of afternoon, and then the blue light in the evening. 

****

As I was there, rumors of the corona virus began; we heard that it hopped from China to Northern Italy and suddenly we became more sensitive – is anyone sneezing? 
In the next moment, we forgot all about it because we were here right now, it was wonderful and magical, so we just continued to observe the wonders all around us.

I came back home one day before the Carnival was closed, two days earlier than intended.  As I was on the flight with Israel’s “Patient zero”, I went into self-isolation at home upon my return, just in case. From the bright life in Venice, back to the silence and the alone-ness of the quarantine in my house, in my rooms.
All was well but it left me a lot of time for reflection.

As always, we are never satisfied with what we have – whether there is too much or too little, it’s never right.  

Yet the simplicity that remains after the costumes had moved aside, the modesty and softness, remind me that this is how life should be lived. 

I left with a great love for the people of Venice, having had a wonderful Carnival experience but also having lifted the curtain to see the daily life of those who live there…