Venezia

After dragging my feet for over a year, I've finally completed my post on Venice. If you wonder why it took so long to get this up (it's been 4 years since I last went), there's no good answer, other than the usual one: life gets in the way, right? Truth be told, I took over 1700 pictures on two trips. To weed out the best ones, and come up with something to say about them, has taken me longer to do than I ever anticipated. This Venetian post is the second on my Grand Tour of Italy (the first being Naples).

To start, let me hit what most of you probably already know. The most recognized image of Venice is, of course, St. Mark's square. It's where all the tourists go first, and also what most tourists remember the most.


It's anchored on the eastern end by the dominant Basilica of St. Mark, one of the best preserved examples of post-Roman, early Middle Ages, Byzantine architecture (if you're into that type of thing, I could talk your ear off about it). Or if you aren't, here is the nutshell: the original site was consecrated in 828 when Venetian merchants stole the (supposed) relics of St. Mark from Alexandria. The original church burned down and was rebuilt in 1071. Yes, 1000 years ago. Over the intervening centuries, as Venice grew in prosperity, successive expeditions from the Orient added more and more to the already highly ornate building. The cumulative effect of all that Eastern influence is unmistakable. The four bronze horses on the roof (replicas; the original are preserved inside) date to Antiquity. And the campanile, or bell tower, one of the most iconic landmarks in all of Italy, has been repeatedly rebuilt and redesigned since the 9th century. The current version dates to 1912, following the collapse of the prior tower ten years earlier.

The true weight of history is best appreciated from the inside. Only then, in full view of the gilded mosaic domes and the (very) early Christian motifs, can you really appreciate how old St. Mark's is. A thousand years is quite a remarkable number.


And for you art historians with some knowledge of the late Roman Empire, you might have come across The Tetrarchs somewhere along the line:


I'm quite fascinated by the history of Late Antiquity - the chaos, the turmoil, the uncertainty, and the eventual decline of the West. One hundred and fifty years elapsed from when The Tetrarchs was sculpted, to the eventual fall of Rome, but already the dark clouds gathering on the horizon are evident in their body language. Gone is the supreme beauty of the individual, ideal figure (think: Venus de Milo), the heroic (Augustus), they mythological (Laocoön group). Naturalism has been transformed into blunt, abstract features; the idea is more important now, no longer the individual. Absolutely fascinating to me. But I digress....

Venice was once a powerful city-state, running an expansive maritime-based empire spanning most of the known world (Marco Polo left for China from Venice). It was wealthy. Very wealthy. The leader, or Doge, ruled from his palatial residence, the Doge's Palace, right next to St. Mark's:


The Doge's Palace is not much on the outside, unless you're into colonnaded and Italian gothic architecture; the more interesting parts are on the inside. Unfortunately, most of those pictures didn't really come out very well, so I've left them out.

One of the best parts of being in Venice happens once the throngs of day-tripping tourists leave. Dusk sets. The lights come on. The piazzas and walkways magically reopen. The locals come back out, looking for an aperitif before dinner. Personally, I love that golden hour for taking pictures, as tricky as it is to do sometimes. Venice shines in a way that it just impossible to see any other way.


Of course, one of the many things Venice is famous for is the acqua alta, or periodic flooding. Built offshore over millions of logs, and after countless centuries, Venice is sinking. Slowly, but most assuredly, sinking. The highest tides of the year flood the entire city, demonstrating, more than anything else, how precarious the very existence of Venice has become. And will be for some time, as huge public works projects to stop the lagoon from flooding have become victim to the usual Italian bureaucratic nightmare. National Geographic Magazine had a fascinating article about Vanishing Venice recently, if you care to read more about it.

As luck would have it, we experienced the acqua alta ourselves during our first visit there. Here is the tide graph, located prominently in St. Mark's Square:


Sure enough, right before our very eyes, the square began to flood. The first place I noticed it coming from was the sewer drain:


Right on cue, the elevated walkways came up, and other than everyone having to scrunch up together, business carried on as usual.


What I didn't expect, however, was how beautiful the square remained, even during the flooding. It's kinda sad, watching and knowing this is how Venice will ultimately die, but yet admiring how pretty it was at the same time.


A glimpse of the future?


And, just like that, the waters receded, the platforms were restowed, and the square filled again with tourists.


One of the best parts of visiting a new place, especially a place that is so widely touristed as Venice, is to go outside 'The Tour.' Leave the overtrafficked areas. Explore. Learn. Interact with people NOT trying to sell you something. Go somewhere anonymous. And get lost, which is very easy to do in Venice. I can't tell you how many times I swore I crossed a certain bridge, or passed a certain building, over and over. And in all honesty, that was exactly why I went - to find what I never expected to see.

Like this gentleman, patiently waiting at the water bus stop, morning paper in hand, oblivious to anyone else.


Life continues for the locals, what few remain anyway. Modeled here is the fine art of Italian mobile phone use. Oh yeah, regular art as well.


Gondoliers tending their gondolas, outside the public eye.


Guys with funky guitars, off the beaten path somewhere (I shot this in an anonymous square where there were no tourists at all).


Taking a break, reading the paper somewhere quiet, isolated. Tranquil.


One of the bigger surprises I saw was this boat. I guess Brown can do a lot....


Everyone knows how Italians love their fashion. Although, honestly, would you or anyone you know wear gondola slippers? Even if they did come from Venice?


On one of my many walks, I put away my trusty map and followed the alleys and canals where they took me. It wasn't long before I stumbled onto the largest fish market in Venice. What surprised me was that it wasn't on the map, and perhaps for good reason - there was hardly a tourist in sight. Sure, it wasn't Pike's Market in Seattle, but to me it felt more genuine, less flashy; almost none of the flair so many of us have come to expect from vendors selling their wares. Just fish, the fishmongers, and customers who know what they want and don't need to be sold. Oh yeah, and a lot of stink, too.


Next door was one of the more beautiful fruit markets I've seen. It smelled as fresh as it looks.


(Here, a quick experiment in Photoshop, just because):


And, of course, my all time favorites: Parma ham, and Parmigiano Reggiano cheese. Heaven.


It's easy to read about how Venetians are moving out of the city - rent is too high, cost of living is exorbitant - a native population in decline. No doubt it's true. So it was a surprise to see so many families trying to buck the trend, and raise and keep their households in Venice. If you leave the tourist areas far enough behind, you can't help but see children playing as if they were in their own backyard. Because, of course, it is their backyard.


Everyone knows: kids and pigeons go well together.

As do kids and improvised musical instruments:


...and jump rope...


...and scooters!


It's impossible to escape the gondolas, the canals, the characteristic building styles. Everywhere you turn, a new view beckons you to take yet another picture. A row of gondolas:


A storefront, a residence (or two):


Iconic mooring poles:

Would you believe this is a parking garage?


A quiet, romantic dinner along an anonymous canal:


And speaking of food, I had this lovely meal at a restaurant with no name, and probably no address. It was delicious, in no small part to the ambiance, for sure.


As I mentioned, my favorite time to take pictures is at the end of the day. The sun is much less harsh, colors regain their vibrancy, and with the passing sun, the lighting becomes very dynamic. It almost lets you shoot in 3D:


I love it late in the afternoon, also because there's a very palpable sense of release, almost like a collective exhalation, as the day tourists board their buses and leave, and the locals reclaim some of their city back.


You can go up the campanile in St. Mark's Square (thankfully there's an elevator). The best time to go? Yes, at the end of the day. Shorter lines, and more importantly, much better pictures. San Giorgio Maggiore:


And Santa Maria della Salute:


I caught this gondola stand on my way to another location to shoot, and couldn't resist. I'm not sure these do it justice, but the reflection off the brass combs was down right blinding. And with the bobbing motion of the gondolas, it was almost hypnotic to watch them come in and out of reflection.

I love sunset. It's very difficult to go wrong, wherever you are....


I took a stroll back to the Rialto Bridge after the sun went down, still trying to get a shot or two during that golden hour. The Rialto is the largest and most recognized of the three bridges spanning the Grand Canal. And for good reason - it's over 400 years old. Unfortunately, it's full of cheap tourist shops (and who can resist a genuine Venetian ballpoint pen with a floating gondola inside)? Nevertheless, it really is pretty to see lit up.


And, of course, the view from the bridge is to die for (yes, especially at the end of the day!)


Time for dinner. In Venice, it pays to get lost and end up somewhere besides where you thought you were going. Like the lunch photo above, I have absolutely NO idea where I was when I stumbled across this restaurant. Not even close. So when I go back (eventually) to Venice, no doubt I'll scour the whole city looking for this.


A few more night shots of San Giorgio Maggiore before I stopped for the day:


My last morning in Venice was foggy, giving everything a mystical quality that I'm certain didn't come across that well in my pictures. Santa Maria della Salute:


And for good measure (again), San Giorgio Maggiore with the bank of parked gondolas in front. (How many times did I take this picture??)

So to finish my little tour of Venice, I saved these pictures for the end. I think they best represent my memory of my last trip there. Just me, by myself, a camera and a backpack.


And my all time favorite:



I wanted to find places off the beaten path, no Rick Steve's Guide for me (not that there's anything wrong with that, of course). Put down the map. Get lost. Explore. Find some solitude, and appreciate the beauty and history of Venice. I hope you want to go there, too; I know I'll be back someday....


Next stop: Rome!