Venice

I’ve been hearing about Venice and how gorgeous a city she is since I childhood -I say she because I’ve always imagined the city as a sophisticated lady. Despite countless pictures and stories, I hesitated to include Venice in my travel plans. Was it the fear that the crowds might mar the experience? Did the occasional remarks about her “ridiculously expensive” nature, or “the unpleasant smell of her canals” subconsciously dampen my usual appetite for discovery? I have no clue.

Then, one day, I had a conversation with my colleague Nelly, who was heading for a weekend trip to the City of the Doges. When I asked if it was her first visit, she stunned me with, “No, it’s actually my 10th time.” The seemingly indifferent Nelly transformed into a passionate storyteller, her eyes sparkling with memories. That was the push I needed! I packed my bags, eager to discover the magical allure that draws people back to Venice time and again.

And let me tell you, there is indeed some magic at play. I remember myself feeling the exhilarating buzz of excitement in only two places: Paris and Capri. Now, Venice joins that exclusive list, making them three. 

The cult of a city

“Venice stupefies me. The most radiant of dreams does not equal in magnificence this dream made of marble emerging from the waves to blossom in an illusionary sky” – Gabriele D’Annunzio, Le Triomphe de la mort, Calmann Levy, 1896.  

In fact, it would be unjust to compare Venice to other cities, no matter how stunning, or historically rich they may be. Her surreal beauty coupled with the grand legacy she carries as one of the greatest Empires of all times, elevates her to the realm of legend: a fantasy world of legitimate eccentricity, a reverie that makes one feel larger than life simply by reflecting her grandeur. And those who succumb to her spell become devoted members of the cult of Venice.

Albert Camus once said “Charm is a way of getting the answer ‘Yes’, without asking a clear question.” Well, that’s precicely what happened to me. I said yes to the idea of Venice, embraced her “cult” and joyfully joined her legion of admirers. Since then, I carry the city within me wherever I go. When I peruse the countless travel notes about Venice, I realize how many of us, her fanatics, exist. Throughout history, irrespective of her highs and lows, the Maritime Republic of Venice has consistenly been a bestseller city.

To dare the unthinkable 

The first realization that strikes any visitor and commands respect, is the miraculous transformation Venetians achieved -turning a small, marshy piece of land into a global Empire. Centuries before Venice became synonymous with glory, glamour and power, the City of the Doges was a cluster of islands, half-buried in a shallow, muddy lagoon in the middle of nowhere. Describing the marsh as inhospitable is an understatement, considering it was the 6th century A.D. and people had limited knowledge of treating waterborne infections, such as malaria, or protecting themselves from the lagoon’s daily and seasonal tides.

Building a city on such unstable soil seemed insane, but the Venetians dared the unthinkable. They strategically inserted closely spaced piles of tree trunks into the sand, reaching a harder layer of clay. Placing limestone on top of these piles, they began constructing. Did they know then that wood could endure indefinitely, if fully submerged in air-less water? The first houses rose from the muddy ground of the Torcello island and so did Venice’s first church -still standing on its feet, defying the odds. The calendar year was 639 A.D. “Miracolo!” A miracle indeed! What started as a bold experiment evolved into what Italians later called “La Serenissima”: an oriental Odalisque reclining with nonchalance on a soft bed of mud, salt and wood.

Ah, the ingenuity of Venetians! The wood they cleverly treated to build a city, served them again, this time in shaping their legacy. Tapping into the vast tree reserves of Veneto’s mainland, they crafted ships designed for trading the lagoon’s most precious resource: salt. By becoming the world’s leading salt and spices merchant -two highly sought-after food preservatives in the medieval world- the tiny city of Venice catapulted into a dominant position in global trade for over six centuries. 

Their engineering prowess, showcased in construction sites, found a new playground in their shipyard, the great Arsenale. Introducing, the Great Galley, a new ship with faster and more material-effective construction process process, they pioneered standardized, interchangeable parts, and a moving assembly-line -an innovation unique its time. Instead of workers going to the galleys, a canal was designed to transport materials to them. While other cities took months to build a ship, Venice, at the peak of its activity, could construct vessels in a single day, thanks to the streamline process and an impressive workforce of up to 16.000 in the 16th century.

The rest, as they say, is history. For centuries, their colossal fleet paced up and down the trading routes from Portugal to China, transporting grain, cotton and wine from the West, and spices and silk from the East. They established trading posts across the Adriatic and Aegean Seas, securing lucrative tax and trading privileges for their merchants. The enormous revenues pouring into Venice laid the groundwork for the rise of a wealthy class, the Procurators, who ruled Venice for over 10 centuries. These Procurators were self-attributed titles of nobility, had their names inscribed in a “Golden Book” -the “Libro d’Oro”– so that they stand out from the common people, once and for all. They built opulent palaces along the Grand Canal to host households and warehouses to showcase their wealth and exquisite taste. This was their way to say “look how I made it” to the thousands passing sailors, traders, visitors and residents. Without their vanity, affluence and refined aesthetics, Venice would not be Venice, one of the most mesmerizing cities in the world.

Grandiose architecture 

Venice boasts a unique architectural style that combines Italian Gothic with the orientalism of the Byzantine Empire, embodying the Greek-Orthodox continuation of the Roman Empire in the East. This captivating blend of styles, a testament to Constantinople’s influence on Venice during its initial urban development, reached its zenith in the Basilica of Saint Mark. This masterpiece of oriental Gothic pays homage to the Byzantine esthetics. How often have I lingered before its facade, attempting to unravel the intricacies of its lavish composition? The deeply recessed portals framed by precious marble columns, the magnificent golden mosaics embellishing the tympana above the entrances, the oriental-styled carving of figures, and the fierce stance of its four magnificent horses -“abducted” during the sack of Constantinople in 1204. Once inside, how blessed are the eyes by the sight of a chancel bathed in golden and silver rays when the sun reflects on its mosaics, resembling a golden book depicting the life of Christ “Pantocrator” (almighty). Observe the soft geometries on the polychrome marble floor, conceived by brilliant craftsmen from the East, and attempt to count the three thousand precious stones on the “Pala d’Oro” the Basilica’s high altar retable, one of the world’s most refined works of Byzantine enamel. 

When friends seek advice, I recommend starting their visit at the Basilica and then proceeding to the Doge’s Palace: it was in the womb of this Byzantine church where the young city of Venice was born. Only after adopting her new patron saint, Mark the Evangelist -in the place of the Greek-Orthodox one, Theodor- did Venice step out of the church, move towards the lagoon, and declare her emancipation from the East by constructing the most magnificent of palaces. Few cities have successfully translated social values and political principles into local architecture. The serene symmetry of Palazzo Ducale -as in most Venetian palaces- resonates perfectly with the city’s nickname “La Serenissima”. 

The delicate balance between an ethereally light portico supporting the weight of the first floor seems like a symbolic representation of the calculated control reigning among the palace’s residents. The Doge and the ruling class of the Procurators formed governing bodies designed to control and counterbalance each other’s power. No decorative trefoil, pinnacle, or statue surpassed the others in size, just as there was no head in the Palace higher than the others -not even the Doge’s whose role was primarily ceremonial but indispensable in the operation of the entire machine. Once inside, the opulent apartments reveal a luxurious lifestyle and immense power through their decoration. The massive wall paintings, crafted by renowned decorators, serve as masterful pieces of propaganda extolling the Republic’s history, military conquests, and influence over its colonies. Tintoretto’s “Il Paradiso”, one of the world’s largest oil paintings, perhaps best illustrates how Procurators perceived their omnipotent role in the world. 

Abundance and plurality  

The magnificent Palazzo Ducale and Saint Mark’s Basilica set the stage for the development of grandiose architecture. The patricians’ palaces were designed to rival each other in opulence and sophistication: gilt facades in Ca D’oro, chiaroscuro effects in a boldly rusticated Ca’ Pesaro, and a dramatic spiral staircase in Palazzo Contarini. Churches, such as Santa Maria della Salute, and confraternity buildings, such as Scuola San Marco, with their facades adorned by a parade of statues, exemplify a religious architecture as conspicuous as the palatial one.

The ornate wrapping of palaces found its echo in the lavish lifestyles within the marble walls. It’s crucial to remember that for centuries, Venice was the hub of a vast trading network spanning from Portugal to China. Merchants from Europe, Africa and Asia lived in warehouses of remarkable grandeur -the “Fondachi”– constructed on the Grand Canal to accommodate their cosmopolitan merchandise. Consequently, the city had access to foods and spirits from exotic places, precious condiments, and luxury products. Lace, glass, pearls and silk -materials on which locals developed world-famous craftsmanship- adorned gowns, accessories, household linen and tapestries. One can envision gargantuan banquets held under Murano chandeliers, suspended from gilt-coffered ceilings. In one of our citinotes, Carlo Gozzi, a Venetian playwright, recalls a time when he found his palace with windows wide open, invaded by revelers drinking, laughing and tossing golden coins into the canal. 

Party fever   

Gozzi’s experience is the perfect illustration of a lifestyle that prevailed in Venice for at least four centuries: the city was in a perpetual state of celebration and would not let anyone ruin her mood. As early as the 13th century with “The Twelve Marys” -a medieval celebration which evolved into the Carnival- Venetians recognized the multiple benefits of hosting public celebrations. These “open parties” provided opportunities to showcase economic power to foreign rulers who were invited to join. In times of adversity, they could divert attention from everyday problems. Last but not least, public fiestas were ideal for social bonding. And so they threw themselves into the festivities: on any given day, there would be some form of entertainment. A passerby in Piazza San Marco might encounter a puppet show, magicians, or exotic animals; a military parade; or acrobats attempting to form the highest human pyramid in a game called “The Powers of Hercules”. It was a Venetian family of merchants -the Trons- who had the idea of profiting by staging opera, traditionally a private show, in the world’s first public opera house, Teatro San Cassiano.  

Shows were also staged on water. Every year on Ascension Day, the Doge boarded the “Bucentaur”, his state barge, and tossed a golden ring into the lagoon in a spectacular ceremony symbolizing Venice’s wedding to the sea. When an ambassador visited, a convoy of 2000 ships sailed to mark his entry into the Grand Canal; for three days, public celebrations offered free food, music and wine to visitors and citizens alike. 

Over the years, every event -official visits, military victories, the end of a pandemic- served as a reason to celebrate. In the 18th century, the city’s economic and political decline led to a dangerous loosening of morals. Decades before the fall of the Republic, the Carnival extended no less than six months, and citizens were permitted to wear masks almost continuously, whether for dinner or card games. Cafés and Ridotti -private casinos- remained open all night, offering refuge to idlers who, under the anonymity of the mask, were prepared to commit any criminal act for a living: cheating, spying, or assaulting other “masks”. 

Dreamy and mysterious

The infamous Doge’s prisons, the infernal “piompi” were filled with presumed criminals sent by fearsome officers of the Inquisition. Documents detailing crimes punishable by death piled up in the city’s State Archives. This dark side of Venetian history inspired generations of authors to write tales of espionage, persecution and murders concealed beneath the bright Venetian moon -some of them are compiled in a dedicated article of this guide. 

But it’s not only history or literature. The city itself -its landscape, city views and fogs- breathes the air of a charming mystery, especially after dark, when all the commotion of the morning crowds has faded away. Every time I wander the streets of Venice at night, every time I gaze upon the water reflections from a vaporetto under a moonlit sky, everytime I take a picture of its semi-obscure labyrinths and midnight passengers walking like ghosts on their way home, I would swear that I feel the power of this city, drawing me into a reverie, like a magnet. An underground force, akin to the liquid song of a siren, mesmerizes my senses in a way that makes it impossible to think of anything else. And just for these few short moments, I feel utterly absorbed by the city, like a transparent leaf carried away by the Sirocco ready to reflect the colors of the night, or take the curvy shape of its canals.

Passionate travel notes 

When I started exploring Venice’s bibliography, I was impressed not only by the quantity of works dedicated to the City of the Doges, but also by the intensity of passionate descriptions. I realized that I am not the only visitor prone to sleepwalking in Venetian reverie: Marcel Proust, Mark Twain, Jean Cocteau, Ernest Hemingway and many other masters of literature, were moved by similar feelings and celebrated La Serenissima in words most poetic. We are delighted to have gathered their most impressive notes for our readers and to share our favorite itineraries and addresses. 

Like Nelly, ten years ago, I too will soon visit Venice for the 10th time. Ten years of admiring spectacular palaces, navigating midnight vaporetto rides, pacing up and down countless bridges, getting lost time and again in the maze of its alleys, unwrapping its fascinating history layer after layer, discovering modern art in the pavilions of the Biennale, and never ceasing to be amazed in front of its jaw-dropping sights. And when Venice unveils its marvels before my eyes, I remember Guy de Maupassant’s wise words: