DOI Heft:
No. 18 (September, 1894)
DOI Artikel:Richards, Frank: Letters from artists to artists, [10], Venice as a sketching-ground
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17190#0194
Sketching Grounds.—No. X. Venice
who are yet as a rule very bad sitters, expect the
same pay as a first-class model would receive.
Having learnt the bartering trick that is carried
on to such an extent, we used to pay visits in the
one of ten thousand
evenings to the curiosity shops, bargain driving.
The shopkeepers would perhaps ask eighty lira for
an article, professing it to be the lowest sum under
any circumstances that they would accept; but it
would surely end in our carrying off the particular
article with us, whatever it was, for ten or fifteen
lira, as it is the custom of the country to ask
always five or six times the real worth of the
article. Somewhat to the general amusement
of the natives in the street, we were often seen
walking through the Piazza with old copper cans,
crucifixes, costumes, cheap chairs, and other relics
of interest and use to artists, including long chianti
bottles, about three or four feet long, the spoils
of one of our nocturnal visits.
One of the first things a person is generally
anxious to know when abroad and visiting a town
with the idea of making a long stay, is the best
place to put up at, or where to get a good lunch or
dinner at a moderate price. We heard of places
here and there and everywhere, and we tried them,
176
but were more often than not dissatisfied. I think
the best thing is for a man to try the few best in
turn, and select one that will suit himself and
pocket. In doing this he will get to know his way
about, and perpetually make little discoveries of
importance. For they never open a cafe anywhere
unless there is "a something near by" that may
attract enough customers at least to pay their rent.
One nearly always finds a cafe near any old dried-up
ruins of buildings, the crumbling dusty edifices
have a knack of making people wonderfully thirsty.
Unless one knows the climate very well and is
quite used to the food and mode of living, it is
always very risky to attempt anything cheap in the
way of food—one cannot be too particular in this
respect. In our goings about our gondolier occa-
sionally " introduced us to " a cheap cafe where
many, or, as he put it, "all the artists go but a
a fisherman's wife
look sufficed for us; we should have liked to make
a sketch of it, and that was the nearest acquaint-
ance possible.
It is just as well to count one's change and see
who are yet as a rule very bad sitters, expect the
same pay as a first-class model would receive.
Having learnt the bartering trick that is carried
on to such an extent, we used to pay visits in the
one of ten thousand
evenings to the curiosity shops, bargain driving.
The shopkeepers would perhaps ask eighty lira for
an article, professing it to be the lowest sum under
any circumstances that they would accept; but it
would surely end in our carrying off the particular
article with us, whatever it was, for ten or fifteen
lira, as it is the custom of the country to ask
always five or six times the real worth of the
article. Somewhat to the general amusement
of the natives in the street, we were often seen
walking through the Piazza with old copper cans,
crucifixes, costumes, cheap chairs, and other relics
of interest and use to artists, including long chianti
bottles, about three or four feet long, the spoils
of one of our nocturnal visits.
One of the first things a person is generally
anxious to know when abroad and visiting a town
with the idea of making a long stay, is the best
place to put up at, or where to get a good lunch or
dinner at a moderate price. We heard of places
here and there and everywhere, and we tried them,
176
but were more often than not dissatisfied. I think
the best thing is for a man to try the few best in
turn, and select one that will suit himself and
pocket. In doing this he will get to know his way
about, and perpetually make little discoveries of
importance. For they never open a cafe anywhere
unless there is "a something near by" that may
attract enough customers at least to pay their rent.
One nearly always finds a cafe near any old dried-up
ruins of buildings, the crumbling dusty edifices
have a knack of making people wonderfully thirsty.
Unless one knows the climate very well and is
quite used to the food and mode of living, it is
always very risky to attempt anything cheap in the
way of food—one cannot be too particular in this
respect. In our goings about our gondolier occa-
sionally " introduced us to " a cheap cafe where
many, or, as he put it, "all the artists go but a
a fisherman's wife
look sufficed for us; we should have liked to make
a sketch of it, and that was the nearest acquaint-
ance possible.
It is just as well to count one's change and see