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Now that the madness of the press preview days is over, we are free to roam about the city. One of the wonderful aspects of the Venice Biennale is that there are far more countries wanting to exhibit artwork than there is room in the Giardini, and so many find spaces in churches, monasteries, warehouses and palaces throughout the lagoon. Dozens of palazzi line the two and a half mile long Grand Canal, and it seems like half of them are pressed into service as exhibition halls during the Biennale.

This gives us the chance to go inside many buildings that otherwise are closed to the public, and it is always amazing to see the contrast between the newest art and the oldest interiors. The Ukrainian “pavilion” is in the 18th century Palazzo Papadopoli, and video monitors are set into wild gilt stucco and mirrored halls. No “white cube” modernist gallery here, and its gutsy of the artist to try and compete with those ceiling paintings!

Another great thing about spreading all that art across the city is that you are constantly getting lost trying to find it. We had lunch with a professor from IAUV, the architecture school, the other day, who has worked in Venice for many years. He brought a map with him. Unless you were born in Venice, he explained, you’ll always need a map, no matter how long you’ve been here. This of course made us feel much better, since we can hardly get a block from our lodgings before we have to get the map out.

One reason it is so hard to navigate is that the city was originally built on dozens of small islands, each its own parish, and really its own little world. So, there are dozens of streets with the same name throughout the city. The gondolas that ferry people from one side of the canal to the other are called traghetti, and the street that leads to the gondola landing is “Calle del Traghetto.” There is one about, oh, every 200 yards or so. Remembering how important spice trading was to the commercial success of Venice, it is not surprising that there is a “Ruga del Spezier” (Street of the Spice Merchants) every time you turn around. And the Venetians have many names for streets -- calli are larger, ramo are smaller, a ruga is a shopping street, a riot era used to be a canal (rio) that has been filled in. And the first street to be paved in each parish is the salizzada. For all that specificity, they do not seem to have a word for “dead end street,” which would be enormously helpful.

Regardless of what the street may be called, the grass is always greener on the other side. In the evening, we can see a young gondolier -- identifiable by his black and white striped shirt -- playing auto chase videogames in his apartment across from ours. After a day on the canals of Venice, you just want to relax and pretend you are driving like a madman on Interstate 81.

There is a great deal of silliness attached to contemporary art. You know that, I know that. And some of the artists know that. Others take themselves too seriously.

Wandering down one of those narrow calli, we came upon the Cyprus “pavilion.” Beautiful oil paintings of fruit were on display. The artist, Mustafa Hulusi, explained that these images “register something of fascist and communist propaganda in our culture,” but they just looked like delicious grapes to me.

Time for lunch!

Intro | The city | Opening day | Theme park | Strong statements | Art tourists | Contra art