From the sublime to the ridiculous....
After a day of culture and imagination, the evening was reserved for the VIP parties...
First the UAE Pavilion launch party at the Peggy Guggenheim Museum...
A confusing dress code of "semi formal" had me turned out in a suit and formal shirt but no tie - anxiously observing the rest of the male species to check whether I had over or under done it. I think this is a peculiarly English anxiety and one accentuated by the fact that my father used to obsess with dress standards and as kids we had to wear a shirt, tie and jacket to enter any restaurant - even a pizzeria...
Having grown up therefore with the mantra that it is better to be over-dressed than under-dressed (an idea which made logical sense, but seemed counter intuitive when being under-dressed always seemed to be "cooler"...) I was happy in my suit and relieved when Cesare - an Italian whose sense of sartorial propriety is a genetically imprinted asset - also wore a suit without a tie.
A private water taxi arrived at the hotel to whisk the beautiful people (and me) to the Guggenheim... As we glided under the Rialto bridge I felt a frisson of grandeur (which would soon be dissipated and indeed destroyed on arrival at the event) and enjoyed the splendour of the canal and the glorious buildings which framed our journey over the water.
On arrival at the Peggy Guggenheim I was relieved to see friends who welcomed Cesare and me - and then whisked us (it seems that "whisk" is an appropriate word for the VIP environment!) for a photograph "Hello!" style in the entrance...
The Peggy Guggenheim museum is very classy. Very classy indeed. Around 500 people had made every effort to try and match that classiness with their own insouciant style and effortless poise (although it was evident that this involved an enormous amount of both souciance and effort...). I was not one of them - style and class being oft dreamed of but seldom achieved!
Indeed it dawned on me with some relief that I will never be comfortable in these environments - not even if I were to become "famous" or even "well known" - it's just not me.
It is not because I am considerably less wealthy, less beautiful and less socially adept and connected than the people at this event - that is a given - it is because the aspects of the event that are so important to them are without any meaning or appeal to me.
I found the whole air kissing, dahhhhling laden, artsy atmosphere fake, shallow and frankly rather desperate - and certainly beyond my comprehension in terms of its appeal. Parties are supposed to be fun, but everyone looked too anxious to be having fun despite their perma grins and affected giggles...
That said, the environment was very pleasant, the buffet reasonable and as Cesare put it when describing the hordes of stunningly beautiful women in their cocktail dresses, the "landscape was more than acceptable"... Only an Italian can say these things!
I practised my usual party strategy which combines laziness with an air of assumed aloofness (although really it is just laziness!) and planted myself in a corner on some lovely leather cushions and moved only to answer the call of the bar or the call of nature.
Cesare collared a waiter and managed to persuade him to bring us food to our seats so we avoided queuing for the buffet which had the benefit of both being labour saving but also giving the impression that we were somehow above queuing...nice.
The time passed pleasantly enough, but I couldn't help thinking that I greatly prefer other kinds of social interaction and felt out of place with the "beautiful" people and deeply worried by their apparent shallowness, insecurity and efforts not to show it!
At the allotted hour we left the museum and went down to the banks of the canal to get another private boat to the Abu Dhabi Authority for Culture & Heritage (ADACH) party out at the Arsenale Nuovissimo area...
A long boat ride was rewarded with a really very cool party indeed. Having expected something rather small and sedate, I was pleasantly surprised with what was a big party with hundreds and hundreds dancing and drinking, drinking and dancing in a redeveloped former industrial area. Great music and a really good buzz meant the atmosphere was very upbeat and a lot of fun...and of course there were many more "beautiful" people in their natural habitat.
Cesare took care of the drinks and ordered champagne with vodka and we wandered briefly before finding a table and starting the people watching anew...
A girl from the posh party had attached herself to the two of us - possibly for protection, amusement or maybe out of boredom - and had followed us from the Guggenheim to this place. Cesare engaged her in conversation - manfully taking on the responsibility of small talk - while I battled my tiredness and general social ennui...
A rainstorm began and we called it a night and headed for the water taxis and back to Venice proper. The party girl came with us - claiming to have a hotel in San Marco...
We ended up accompanying her half way across Venice in the rain as she struggled to remember where she was staying. When she did eventually remember, we had the devil's own time finding it, but we did and as we are actually both gentlemen, we felt it was our duty to ensure she arrived safely -although I cheered myself up on our 2am epic journey with slightly uncharitable thoughts of her gently slipping off a bridge allowing us to quietly return to our hotel and get some damn sleep!
She didn't, and we eventually returned to our hotel around 2.30am where sleep not only beckoned, it demanded with menaces...!
Buonanotte!
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