The Glory That Was Venice

Contents

A city of canals
Art in Venice
Tourist sights
Lagoon islands
Day trip to Padua
The glory that was Venice
Venice has the last laugh

Venice may offer a more densely packed collection of historical and artistic treasures than any other city, but it lacks one ingredient that makes a city great—Residents. The population fell from 174,000 to 70,000 between 1951 and 1996. Six years ago the citizens held a "funeral" to mourn its decline.

"Venice by day is not at all gloomy, nor even melancholic.... But at night, surrounded by beauty, one encounters the sad spectacle of closed windows, lights off, and silence.... If a guy plays the bongos in Campo de Fiori in Rome or Ticinese in Milan, everything is lost in the din. In the silence and emptiness of Venice, it seems like the beginning of a Zulu warriors' attack. On the other hand, due to lack of escape routes, there are no robbers."
Aldo Cazzullo, Italian journalist and writer

So we spent eight days in the city with mixed feelings. For us, the peace and quiet—the complete absence of automobiles, and especially of Vespas—was a joy. And we indulged ourselves in the cultural offerings of the city. But it was hard to escape a sense of guilt, for the loss of residents can be traced to a proportionate increase in tourists.

We rented a delightful apartment in Dorsoduro, close to the city center but removed from the tourist hordes. The apartment garden was spacious, but somewhat overgrown. The walls of the neighboring apartments, and the front of our own apartment, confirmed the sense of faded glory.

From the apartment it was a 100 meter walk to Campo Santa Margherita, close to the main university, and usually full of students rather than tourists. Another 100 meters took us to the Rio San Barnaba, across a bridge, and to a second square, Campo San Barnaba. On the San Barnaba side of the bridge was the "fruit and vegetable" boat, a convenient source of necessary groceries.

The bridge to Campo San Barnaba is known as the Ponte di Pugni, or bridge of fists, and is itself an interesting part of Venetian history. In the middle ages rival gangs from opposite ends of Venice would meet on the bridge and fight. At that time there were rarely any railings on minor bridges, so the idea was to push members of the opposing gang into the canal. Even though concrete footprints set into the bridge presumably mark the starting lines for the two teams, the fights have gone the way of much of Venice's past.

Campo San Barnaba and Campo San Margherita are now good places for a meal or a glass of wine, and they were convenient stopping points at the end of a day's exploration. On occasion it was possible to enjoy the performance of street musician while relaxing with a spritz.

Our immediate neighborhood held other attractions. A third small square, Campiello dei Squelini, was never as busy as the others, but it featured some interesting murals by Marcello Pirro. Nearby was a shop that sold masks, a tourist staple for Venice. We liked the offerings at this shop a lot, and ended up buying the mask in the front row center.

Venice was built on more than 100 separate islands, linked by over 400 bridges. This point is important in understanding the history and the present culture of Venice. Everything that moves must move either by foot or by water - police, fire fighters, goods of all kinds.

The result from the tourist's point of view is a unique charm, at least after one has humped one's luggage from the bus or train station across countless bridges. A walk through the city leads from one delightful view to another. Becoming lost in the maze is inevitable, but it doesn't matter - one simply enjoys the new views.

Each canal seems to have its own architectural style: Venetian Gothic (note the confluence of Gothic, Byzantine and Moorish influence), palatial elegance if one is close to the Grand Canal, simpler residences in other areas, or wharfs devoted to trades and crafts.

The Grand Canal is, of course, the most important canal in Venice. Look at a map of Venice. The city has the shape of a fish, and the Grand Canal is the alimentary canal. This photo of the southernmost section was taken from the Accademia Bridge, one of only four bridges that cross the canal. It is almost always full of people taking the same photo, but the bridge was close to our apartment and we crossed it almost every day.

An incidental benefit of crossing the Accademia Bridge was a view of a sculpture, part of an exhibit at the nearby Palazzo Franchetti ("Self Portrait of a Dreamer" by Joseph Klibansky).

Probably the best known bridge in Venice, and the oldest that crosses the Grand Canal, is the Rialto Bridge. On the west side is a large market, always a fun place to explore, especially the fish market.

Perhaps the other thing most people think of in connection with Venetian canals is the gondolas, and the gondolieri. We did not treat ourselves to a gondola ride, but we observed them in action frequently, from preparations in the morning to transporting tourists to the evening docking.

There are a number of islands near the city center that are worth visiting, and to which walking is impossible. So, for two days we treated ourselves to passes for the vaporetto, Venice's main form of public transportation. Some photos from our vaporetto trips are included later, but one benefit of our first vaporetto ride was a lovely view of the Dolomites, the mountains to the north of Venice.

The vaporetto offers the most convenient way to see the full length of the Grand Canal, and the best time to do this is as the sun sets. Starting at the northern end one passes the church of San Geramia, and then has views of several of the elegant palazzi that line the canal. One of he most beautiful is the Ca' D'Oro. But notice how few lights are illuminated in the palazzo. Notice too how low the palazzo sits in the water.

Along the way an occasional inhabitant of a building: steps out for a view of his own. Near the Rialto one notes that some gondolieri are doing a good business. One other point of interest we noted about the Rialto was the ongoing repairs, to disguise which the whole of one side has been covered in a scrim with a view of the original bridge painted on it (together with the inevitable commercial message, of course).

At the end of the trip we walked back to our apartment through evening streets that offer their own magic. Cazzullo's account is not entirely accurate. There were a few lights, and a few people, especially near the student-filled campi.

If one does not have a boat, or access to a boat, one walks. Nothing is very far, so we explored most of the sestieri (neighborhoods) of the city on foot. The furthest north is Cannaregio, which has a rather different character from others. One point of interest is the Tre Archi Bridge. Originally most bridges were built with three arches. Gradually the smaller ones were replaced with single arch bridges, and this is the last example of a three-arch bridge.

One small island in Cannaregio is the Ghetto (Italian for "foundry", the original function of the island). From 1516 until Napoleon conquered the city in 1797, Jews were forced to live in this very small area - as many as 5,000 at one time. Now the island is the center of the (much smaller) Jewish community in Venice, and during our visit we were entertained by a couple of very busy youngsters.

The walls of the Ghetto serve as a memorial to the holocaust, and include some very affecting bas reliefs

Art is everywhere in Venice. There are galleries and museums; we visited two. But the art work is scattered all over the city, primarily in churches.

We spent time in two art museums. The Accademia (a former palace along the Grand Canal) was close to our apartment, and offers a comprehensive view of the history of Venetian art. We were also surprised and delighted by an exhibit devoted to Aldo Manuzio, who in 1494 founded the Aldine Press. The astonishing beauty of his books matches the scholarship that went into them.

The Accademia is best known for its collection of paintings spanning the period from 15th century (e.g., Michele di Matteo's polyptique (1430), to include all the major Venetian renaissance painters, Tintoretto's Adam and Eve (1550), Titian's Pieta (1575), and others

A short walk from the Accademia, and a dramatic contrast, is the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, which is devoted to 20th century art. It includes works by most of the celebrated modern artists, e.g., Marc Chagall, Rain, Salvador Dali, Birth of Liquid Desires, and Joan Miró, Femme Assise II .

On the terrace of the palazzo Marini's Angel of the City celebrates the enthusiasm that Peggy Guggenheim felt for Venice. The penis was originally detachable (to preserve the sensibilities of the prudish), but it was stolen, so now is attached permanently.

As locations for viewing art in Venice, especially the earlier work, nothing beats the many churches in the city, for these are the locations for which the art was intended. There are roughly 150 churches in Venice, and it seems like more than that. Almost all are worth a visit, if not for religious reasons then to enjoy the art and the history. We stopped in many that we passed by. Here's a small sample of those we visited, which itself is a small sample of those that exist.

The church with the most extensive collection of art work is Santa Maria Glorioso dei Frari, or the Frari for short. Built by the Franciscans, the overall design is not especially ornate. The interior, however, can take your breath away.

Over the altar hangs a large painting by Titian. The painting is beautiful and restrained, for its time, perhaps because the painter was selected for the job by the friars. Even so, Titian created a scandal by breaking away from the earlier, stylized format. The Franciscans threatened to withhold payment, until the Holy Roman Emperor expressed interest in buying the painting.

Some other elements in the church are far less restrained. On the south wall is a monument designed by Carlo Ponti for the Doge Giovanni Pesaro, a widely hated Doge with a questionable reputation. The monument may or may not have done anything to rehabilitate his reputation. Next to the Pesaro monument is the tomb of Antonio Canova. The tomb was designed by Canova himself, but not for his own use. He intended it as the tomb for Titian, but his design was rejected and replaced by a very different one.

A mile away, on an island south of the city center, is San Giorgio Maggiore, built in the 16th century in a style unrelated to the then dominant Venetian Gothic. The interior features a classic elegance that is in stark contrast to the Frari. We were especially impressed by the wood carvings in the choir stalls

A visit to the bell tower of San Giorgio Maggiore is well worth-while for the views of the entire city and surrounding areas. It is the best place from which to obtain an overview of the area around Saint Mark's square and the Doge's palace.

The church of San Nicolo is situated in a working class part of Dorsoduro, once home to one of the gangs involved in fights at the Ponte Dei Pugni. Although the area was not (and is not) wealthy, the church is richly appointed. We were unable to see much, however, since a large funeral was in progress when we arrived.

One of the more interesting churches we saw was Santi Maria e Donato, located on the island of Murano (about which more later). The interior is quite spare, although the tiled floor, dating from the 12th century, is impressive.

Several former churches have been adapted for other purposes, notably musical. One such is San Giacomo, near the Rialto market. We were intrigued by its unusual 24 hour clock. On stepping inside we discovered it is now the headquarters for a music group in Venice, and they have an exhibit of beautiful old instruments and early music. It turned out we had already bought tickets for a performance by the group, Interpreti Veneziani, including Vivaldi's Four Seasons (he is of course a local boy), plus some Telemann and J. S. Bach. The performance itself was held in the church of San Vidal, near the Accademia.

Our favorite church impressed us not with its individual art works but with its overall design. Santa Maria Dei Miracoli is not easy to find. It is buried deep in a maze of alleys and canals, but the hunt is well worthwhile.

The exterior and the interior are built of beautifully matched panels of marble, and individual items in the church blend perfectly with the overall design. It is perhaps the most calming church we have ever seen.

We spent much of our trip trying to avoid crowds of tourists. In Venice, especially during April, this is not hard to do this if one avoids the area around Saint Mark's square. Unfortunately, much of what is worth seeing lies in that area.

The Bascilica of San Marco is justifiably the focal point for most visitors. It reflects the immense wealth that Venice accumulated up until the early 16th century. The basilica, its adornments, and the surrounding buildings, were all designed to impress citizens and visitors with the city's power and prestige.

But how to see the basilica without fighting the crowds? One way is to go after closing hours. The company Walks of Italy offers an opportunity to do just that, and view the golden mosaics, which are especially magical when illuminated after dark. We also visited the crypt that (maybe) contains Saint Mark's remains, and other treasures that are rarely seen.

The other way to see San Marco is to go early, before the cruise ships have disgorged their loads. By doing this we had an unhurried opportunity to explore the interior.

One of the best known features of San Marco is the set of four horses mounted above the main entrance. Constructed of gilded bronze, their precise origin is the source of dispute - somewhere between 100 and 400 BC. But they have passed from one conqueror to another over the centuries.

Venice stole them from Constantinople during the infamous fourth crusade in 1204. Napoleone stole them in 1797, and Venice retrieved them in 1815. They survived largely unscathed until the modern evil, pollution, drove them indoors in 1975. Inside the basilica one can see the originals, almost pure copper, and somehow more lively than their copies.

Outside the basilica are two tall pillars representing Saint Mark (left) and Saint Theodore (right). Originally the patron saint of Venice was Saint Theodore. Which of the two St. Theodore's was never clear, but the point became moot in 828, when a group of merchants retrieved (they said) the body of Saint Mark and smuggled it into Venice. With a far more important saint to claim as its own, Venice fired Theodore, but built this memorial as a kind of runner- up prize.

Beside the basilica is the palace of the Doge. In fact San Marco was originally just a private chapel for the Doge. The palace, specifically the interrogation rooms of the palace, is connected to the prison where the Doge liked to house his enemies by the Bridge of Sighs, one of the top sights for tourists. In fact, when we walked by the Bridge of Sighs one Saturday afternoon, we got a taste for what it can be like when the crowds are out in full force.

Saint Mark's square and the Doge's palace lead to a wide esplanade, the Riva Degli Schiavone. It is lined with bars and restaurants, and frequented by entertainers of all sorts. We were rather amused by a number of young ladies, apparently very tall, performing graceful pirouettes in their skirts. A sudden gust of wind revealed the secret behind (or underneath) their elegance.

One other sight on the Riva Degli Schiavone surprised us. There is a dramatic statue of Victor Emmanuel II, an important figure in the unification of Italy. When we first saw the statue we assumed that for some reason the sculptor had installed a bird's nest on his head. No - just very elaborate feathers on his helmet.

While we had our vaporetto passes we took the opportunity to visit some of the islands in the lagoon. First stop was San Michele, site of the city's cemetery. Many cities with limited free space have problems disposing of their dead with dignity. In 1806, Napoleon decreed that henceforth all burials must take place on San Michele.

On approaching the island one first sees a sculpture by Georgiy Frangulyan called Dante's Boat. Quite what is implied by Dante and his host Virgil pointing at the cemetery is not clear, but it must give pause to members of funeral parties.

Parts of the cemetery are very relaxing, but much of it gives the impression of being a warehouse. Several important names of former residents can be found here though - Ezra Pound, Joseph Brodsky, Igor Stravinsky.

Next stop of the trip was Murano, a collection of islands well known as the center for art glass production. We enjoyed the glass museum there, but did not spend time watching the glass makers in action.

The final stop on the island tour was Burano. While Murano is known for glass, Burano is a center for lace. It was not the lace that interested us so much, though, as the houses.

Island legend claims that the houses were painted such brilliant colors so that fishermen could see them in thick fog. It may look rather chaotic, with no two adjacent houses painted the same color, but there is in fact a system that controls the color scheme. Anyone wishing to paint their house must submit an application to the local authorities. It does not appear, though, that approval takes many years, the way it does in Venice when one wishes to make modifications to one's house.

The brightly painted houses provide a lively background for the universal practice in Italy of hanging out the laundry to dry.

We spent one day of our trip to Venice visiting the ancient city of Padua. They claim to be the oldest city in northern Italy. The city was supposedly founded by Antenor, a Trojan prince who appears in The Iliad. So when in 1274 some citizens found unknown remains, they concluded that this must be Antenor, and they built a sarcophagus to hold the remains.

Ancient heritage notwithstanding, after spending a week in the peace and quiet of Venice, it was a little unnerving to have to deal with the hazards of 21st century civilization.

The primary purpose of our trip was a visit to the Scrovegni Chapel. The chapel and its associated museum lie behind a wall dating back to Roman times. The chapel was built in 1305 to house an amazing series of frescoes painted by Giotto. Visitors can spend only 15 minutes in the chapel (and no photos), but the visit is worth the effort.

Near the Scrovegni Chapel is the Church of the Eremitani. It was built in the 13th century. Badly damaged during WWII, a few fragments of the original frescoes have been carefully restored, along with later works.

We walked into the center of town to check out the market, which is housed within and outside the Palazzo della Ragione (Palace of Reason). This was the medieval town hall, and housed the law courts. Reason may or may not have been more evident at that time than it is in today's courts, but the building is still a fine monument to rationality.

A short walk from the town center took us to The Basilica of Saint Anthony, the most important church in the city. The main feature of interest to us was the altar, the coloring of which reminded us of The Mezquita in Cordoba.

We were also amused, probably inappropriately, by a statue of Saint Anthony. He appears to be tossing a baby into the garden; or perhaps a dwarf? Surely not.

Venice during the renaissance must have been an astonishing place to visit. Now it still astonishes, but only with the sense of what it must once have been. Indicators of former glory are all around. Along the Grand Canal one sees one abandoned palazzo after another. On the outlying islands in the lagoon once-grand residences fall into decay, and large buildings have been abandoned to the elements.

In the lagoon, shipping channels are marked by pilings erected as tripods, but the water takes its toll, and one wonders what happens then to the channel.

Everyone has heard of the leaning tower of Pizza. Few know of the leaning towers of Venice. There are three of them, including this one on Burano, all presumably affected by the instability of the soil on which they are built.

In the parks, sculptures of presumably important people disappear into the thickening shrubbery. And every year the residents and the visitors worry about the Acqua Alta.

The Acqua Alta is a flood that occurs primarily in late Autumn and early winter. It appears not as waves breaking over the sea front, but as a slow seepage through cracks in the lowest part of the paving. When bad, it forces people to wear knee high boots. To combat the flood the city keeps temporary walkways on hand, but they are hardly adequate to deal with the crowds that occupy Saint Mark's square. They do, however, provide handy places for people to sit or kids to play.

We did not encounter the Acqua Alta during our trip, but on the evening visit to San Marco we noted a low spot in the atrium where several centimeters of water had accumulated.

Here's a peripheral note that has some relevance, we think, to the current discussion. On our trips overseas we find ourselves collecting Calatrava bridges - bridges designed by the Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava. Previously we had found three, in Buenos Aires, Dublin, and Sevilla. In Venice we found a fourth. It is the newest of the four bridges across the Grand Canal, completed in 2007.

It has been widely criticized by local politicians and residents before and after its installation. Of course, it is designed for the exclusive use of pedestrians. Apart from complaints of cost overruns, and assertions that its weight has caused settling of adjacent buildings, it appears it's simply not very good as a bridge to walk on.

After leaving Venice we spent almost two weeks in other parts of Italy (see our travelogue on Italian Hill Towns). We had to return to Venice to fly home, and the city had one more surprise for us.

At the airport we boarded our plane, and sat on the tarmac for over three hours. After a series of meaningless announcements the flight was cancelled. We were told to disembark and find out about rebooking our flights (which took another hour or more). Then all passengers were told to follow "the man in glasses and the yellow vest", who would lead us to busses that would take us to a hotel for the night.

Then the fun began. Some 200 passengers spent over 30 minutes trecking across the airport, from one end to the other, and back, while our pied piper tried to locate the buses we sought.

All ended well. Eventually we reached the hotel. Late that night they finally fed us. And the next day we made it home without incident, almost. For the last leg of our trip, from Philadelphia to Raleigh, our boarding passes made rude noises when scanned at the gate. "They're not for this flight" we were told.

Fortunately, before we could have a nervous breakdown or violent temper tantrum, the gate keeper determined we were indeed booked for that flight. The clerk in Venice had entered the wrong flight number.

During the renaissance, at the height of Venice's glory, such concerns were not relevant.

Recommended Reading

Thousands of books have been written about Venice. These two may give readers a sense for what life there is really like now.

Berendt, John. The City of Falling Angels. The Penguin Press, 2005.

By the author of "Midnight in the garden of good and evil". The book is, loosely, about the fire that destroyed the Fenice opera house in 1996. It provides an excellent portrait of many aspects of life in contemporary Venice, from aristocratic owners of Palazzi to glass artisans on Murano.

Leon, Donna. The Waters of Eternal Youth. The Penguin Press, 2016.

The latest in a series of mystery stories by the author that feature the Venetian commisario, Guido Brunetti. As in earlier novels, Brunetti offers insights into Venetian citizens, its bureaucracy, and tourists.

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