Venice in the Moment

      After several days in Venice, one of the aspects of the city that most strikes me is the flexible and relaxed attitude towards life. This attitude is reflected predominantly in the food culture and the city layout. Eating in Venice follows a completely different set of rules than eating in the United States. Rules that reflect the cultural differences include the following: do not eat or drink while walking, do not pay until after eating or drinking (even for beverages or snacks in a café or bar), do not rush your meal and leave an establishment too soon, never imply or ask whether the food is not fresh or imported. All of these rules center around the profound importance that food quality and food experience have in Venetian culture. Food is a time to appreciate an art form and to enjoy the company of others. For that reason, it is rude to rush your meal, walk while eating, hurry the payment process, or suggest that the food is not made with top quality or local ingredients. This conflicts with the food culture in the United States, which centers around immediate payment and a brisk pace, even multitasking while eating. In the United States, eating while walking is an efficient way to fulfill a daily necessity while progressing towards the next activity. In Venice, food is not merely a necessity, but a way to stop and enjoy the moment.

 

      Just as the food culture in Venice reflects the relaxed attitude towards life, so does the city layout itself. In Venice, punctuality is evasive and firm directions are nearly impossible. It is all too easy to get lost among the narrow, twisting streets. Traveling in Venice requires a general sense of direction and a calm attitude towards the unknown, contrasting with the precision of the majority of city layout and travel. To enjoy the experience of wandering Venice, one must abandon the idea of constant bearings and allow Venice to create whatever journey it has in mind that day.

      In Venice, the beauty of the experience lies not in striving to achieve a goal or finding a set number of sites, but rather in appreciating whatever treasure the city chooses to reveal in that moment. In setting out for pizza, one can stumble upon the most delectable of triofe pasta with smoked salmon and artichoke cream sauce; in searching for a gelato shop, one can discover the charm of seeing Venetian boys kicking a soccer ball against a gothic façade in an otherwise empty campo, surrounded by their echoing laughter. The beauty of Venice ultimately lies in forgetting direction and intention, in abandoning oneself to the immediate moment and unexpected joy.

Campo della Salute

Today, as I wandered Venice with three new friends, we came across an incredible campo. Sunset was nearing, and we had taken the inevitable wrong turn on our way back from the west side of the city. When we rounded the corner of a street leading to the Canal Grande, a massive Baroque church confronted us. We moved around the building, in awe of the majestic white structure, until we reached the other side to find the apse of a beautiful and rough-hewn Venetian Gothic church. The juncture of the churches formed a space that a faded white sign marked as Campo Della Salute. Struck by the perfection of the area, we took the opportunity to explore the campo and the surrounding buildings, relishing in our discovery. The campo was a beautiful contrast of two strongly different time periods and a window into the passage of time and development of architecture and culture in Venice.

The Baroque church turned out to be Santa Maria della Salute and the gothic church Chiesa di San Gregorio. In the campo, we found the following architectural elements:

·     Aedicule

·      Apse

·      Balustrade

·      Barrel vault

·      Baroque architecture

·      Biforate window

·      Blind arcade

·      Calle

·      Campanile

·      Campo

·      Capital

·      Clerestory

·      Corbel

·      Corinthian orders

·      Cornice

·      Cusp

·      Entablature

·      Exedra

·      Extrados

·      Fondamenta

·      Frieze

·      Gothic architecture

·      Intrados

·      Lancet

·      Lunette

·      Nave

·      Oculus

·      Pediment

·      Pilaster

·      Quatrefoil

·      Rio

·      Riva

·      Segmental pediment

·      Sottoportego

·      Spandrel

·      Thermal window

·      Tondo

·      Traghetto

The most striking aspect of the campo is the juxtaposition of the Baroque and the Gothic architecture set against the open water. When passing through the sottoportego, the distintion becomes radical. Emerging from the dark, damp, brick passageway, all that can be seen is the looming façade of Santa Maria della Saulte. The contrasting bright colors of the baroque and dark colors of the gothic churches enhance the feeling of space expanding upwards. Progressing through the archway, the visibility of the canal creates a feeling of space radiating outwards as well. The sense of growing space fits the changes from gothic to baroque extremely well. In the baroque time period, the idea of progress and of seizing opportunities to grow as a human became popular in the wake of medieval humility. This way of thinking is reflected in the change from simplistic and imperfect gothic to elaborate and carefully crafted baroque ornamentation. Furthermore, the circular shape of the Santa Maria della Saulte, topped with the large central dome, contrasts strongly with the traditional nave and apse of the Chiesa de San Gregorio. This architectural change is indicative of the humanistic thinking, the pride of Venice, and the continual desire to create more elaborate and original structures during the Baroque time period. Beyond being a beautiful and harmonious area, the Campo della Salute is a perfect trinity of the Gothic period, the Baroque period, and the water that represents all time, fusing them together.

The Four Tetrarchs

The portrait of the four tetrarchs is a piece that, in comparison to the grandeur size and style of the Piazza San Marco, is humble and easily overlooked. The reality is that the sculpture is millennia old and a historically important piece of art. Created around 300 A.D., the sculpture of the four tetrarchs was created to honor and represent the novel and short-lived political system of the late Roman Empire between 293 A.D. and 313 A.D. (Indivisible Enemies). In 293, Diocletian created the tetrarchy, or the system of four rulers comprising two senior leaders, Augusti, and two younger leaders, Caesars (Tetrarchy). The statue, carved of the precious Egyptian stone, porphyry, resided in Constantinople until 1204 when the Venetians took the portrait during their crusades in the Byzantine Empire (The Four Tetrarchs). The possession of the four tetrarchs and their location in the Piazza San Marco lend insight into not only the history of Venice, but also the values of Venetian society and the history of the late Roman Empire.

            In their theft and display of the portrait of the four tetrarchs, Venetians provide insight into the mindset of the Venetian Empire during the thirteenth century. As an expansive empire and an enduring republic (Martin and Romano), Venetians not only desired to conquer the Byzantine Empire, but to emulate it as well. The Roman Empire and the succeeding Byzantine Empire combined to make the most powerful empire that the West had ever seen. In addition, the Roman Empire experimented with government that was not based on a monarchy, dabbling in shared power. Because of their unorthodox ruling style and their widespread empirical success, the Romans formed an ideal model for the Venetians. Additionally, the display of the tetrarchs, an experiment in shared power, provides a commentary on the importance of Venice’s status as a republic. Among the abundance of looted treasurers, the Venetians chose to display the tetrarchs instead of a symbol or statue of a sole ruler.

            More than just an inspiration for the Venetian government, the portrait of the tetrarchs served as a symbol of Venetian power. In displaying the stolen foreign leaders, the Venetians are displaying their victory over one of the most powerful empires in world history. As much as the tetrarchs represent an empire that Venice admired, they equally represent Venetian dominance and a failed empire that Venice aspired to surpass. Their placement among the splendor of the Piazza San Marco serves to further diminish the statues, elevating Venice in comparison.

             The portrait of the four tetrarchs not only reveals Venetian history, but a sliver of Roman history as well. The sculpture itself is radically different from the preceding Roman art (Portraits of the Four Tetrarchs). Where Roman sculpture was marked by incredible realism and attention to detail, the four tetrarchs are created as symbols rather than depictions of real people. All four faces are nearly identical, excepting the beards of two of the tetrarchs. Additionally, the figures are of similar height and stance and disproportionate. The artwork evokes the Byzantine and medieval art that would come about centuries later. While medieval artwork followed unrealistic schemas in order to convey religious messages, the sculptor of the four tetrarchs rejected realism in order to convey a political message: solidarity and shared power in order to strengthen the Roman Empire (Portrait of the Four Tetrarchs).

            The relatively small, ancient portrait of the tetrarchs that resides in the Piazza San Marco tells a tale of Roman history, Venetian history, and Venetian values during the thirteenth century. The imperial porphyry is carved in a style ahead of its time, and the symbolism reflects the idea that shared power and a rejection of individualism could strengthen an empire. The display of such a symbolic piece of art in Venice speaks to the power of the Venetian Empire and the aspirations that came from the history of the Roman Empire. The modest sculpture adds an important thread to the tale of history that Venetians weave throughout the city and Piazza San Marco in particular.

Works Cited

1. The Four Tetrarchs. Web. http://venice11.umwblogs.org/the-four-tetrarchs/
2. Indivisible Enemies. Web. http://europebetweeneastandwest.wordpress.com/2013/11/15/indivisible-enemies-the-portrait-of-the-four-tetrarchs-in-venice/
3. Martin, John and Dennis Romano. Venice Reconsidered: The History and Civilization of an Italian City-State. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2000. Print.
4. Portrait of the Four Tetrarchs. Web. http://smarthistory.khanacademy.org/portraits-of-the-four-tetrarchs.html
5. Tetrarchy. Web. http://penelope.uchicago.edu/~grout/encyclopaedia_romana/britannia/ruins/tetrarchy.html

First Impressions

      My original idea of Venice was remarkably close to my first impression. The heavy fog that accompanied our arrival aided in the likeness of that impression. The city was slightly obscured and softened by mist, adding the mysterious qualities that I had expected. The unexpected abounded as well, around every tight corner and through every crevice was a new treasure. At times, a wrong turn led only to a water entrance, a direct stairway and dock into the canal, but that discovery in itself was a treasure.

      There were also notable differences that I had expected to encounter. I knew that my imagination would fail to provide all the details that would exist, making the actual scenes richer and more vibrant than those I had pictured. These details came out in two major ways: the age of the buildings and the sounds of the city. While I had pictured majestic and breathtaking structures, I had forgotten that many of them would show the centuries that they had been standing. The eroded stone ornamentation and the peeling paint made the city somehow more real. It reminded me that although Venice is a beautiful place rich with culture and history, it is a real city filled with real people and susceptible to the passage of time. I had imagined Venice as a place to step back in time, but Venice is truly a living and changing piece of history, not a frozen museum.

            The sounds of Venice added another dimension of experience as well. Everywhere I went, the sounds brought a sense of reality to the surreal sights that surrounded me. The endless chatter in the Piazza San Marco, the flapping of the pigeon wings in front of the Doge’s palace, the lilt of Italian in the crowded streets, and the barking of dogs echoing out of apartments made the experience of Venice deeper that the purely visual fantasy that I had created. The addition of sounds, both familiar and exotic, grounded me in reality even as Venice swept me away with its magic.

      While many scenes in Venice elicit surreal feelings, I was able to ground myself more easily than I expected. In staring at the columns of St. Mark and St. Theodor, set against the vibrant blue water and with seagulls swooping between them, one needs only glance at the worn base of the column or hear a rose vendor shouting out prices to remember that, although Venice has the beauty of an alternate world, it is still a city like any other.