Black and white photo of a man crouching in the tiny space between a Juliette balcony and a tall closed window, smoking a cigar. He is in all black, and is wearing a black fedora, and holding the hand with the cigar up in front of his face so that it is obscured by a cloud of smoke. He looks marvellously bohemian. Warm light spills from the window behind him, as if there is a party in full swing, and he has chosen to step away for a moment of solitary peace and contemplation. Below the window is the top of a pale shop awning, and the wall of the building is stained textured old plaster. Despite being in Venice, the image feels very French to me, an embodiment of Left Bank intellectual hedonism and je ne sais quoi.