Serenissima: A reflection

Some time during the so-called Dark Ages when the once mighty Roman Empire of the West had been pillaged and raped out of recognition by waves upon waves of Visigoths, Goths, Ostrogoths and Vandals, to name but a few that I remember, some enterprising former citizens of Rome took refuge in the Laguna of Venice.

From this strange and waterlogged haven, they began to trade and prosper, always protected by the vast expanse of water that separates the Most Serene Republic of Venice from the mainland. Till 1798, when, like Malta, Venice fell to Napoleon without much of a fight, Venice was ruled by an oligarchy of patrician untitled families who, in the most convoluted of methods, elected a Doge, one of themselves, to rule them, assisted by the Council of Ten.

They transformed the islands into the most fabulous and opulent city in the world; one that even now remains largely unchanged, full of enchantment and magic.

As I was slowly meandering in a water-taxi down the Grand Canal last week watching tourists from all over the world crawl across the Rialto and the Accademia Bridges, I was, for once, left speechless by the utter beauty of the famous Venetian Palazzi to the left and to the right of me.

Architecturally homogeneous but of infinite variety, these proud façades are symbols of the might and influence that Venice wielded for so many centuries. The last thing I would wish is to sound like a repetitive travelogue for the most photographed and celebrated city in the world; however, there is no denying that Venice is our premier World Heritage City.

Like us, not long after the French Republican aberration, Venice was ceded to another foreign power, namely Habsburg Austria, after a millennium of proud independence.

The Austrian occupation was a very uncomfortable one; primarily for the Austrians as the Risorgimento gained momentum. There are indeed some uncanny similarities between Malta and Venice.

Both were ruled by oligarchies and both were naval powers; Venice's largely mercantile while ours was military. Both the Principality of the Knights of St John and the Queen of the Adriatic owed their rise to power to the historic convulsions caused by the Crusades.

The difference lies in the fact that while the Knights Hospitaller were bound by chivalric rules and regulations, the Venetians were quite unscrupulous about taking the best advantage of the situation.

I am quite sure that this was the origin of the saying "tra due litiganti, il terzo gode". This is how the Venetian Empire of the Aegean was born and this is how the blind nonagerian Doge Enrico Dandolo bamboozled the Fourth Crusade to attack, capture and sack Byzantium.

Ironically, the real glory of Venice begins at this point when the unparalleled treasures of Constantinople, including the four Bronze Horses, were brought back to the Adriatic to beautify the city. Venice then ruled the Mediterranean, and with its fabulous wealth, created the unique landscape it presents today, not very different from the one Canaletto depicted. Although Venice's power and influence subsequently declined, its legend, through what it had engendered, lives on.

Today, Venice is Europe's premier tourist site. By ten in the morning, St Mark's Square is full of queues for the Doge's Palace, the Campanile and San Marco, which made it impossible for me to visit them unless I waited for hours on end.

Thankfully, there is plenty to see that is not on the beaten track. The opulence and art treasures in the churches of Santa Maria del Giglio, San Zulian, San Moisè and the Santa Maria dei Frari with its celebrated Assumption by Titian was a sufficient treat for the couple of days that I was there.

The shops of Venice too are a delight. The impossible intricacies in glass that the Venetians have always stunned the world with are as alive and thriving today as they ever were. Graceful flute-shaped glasses are mounted on stems that resemble swirling coral or some mythical sea creature.

Chandeliers in stunning colours are still produced in a style largely unchanged for many centuries; in fact, I must confess that after 24 hours of window gazing I am still apt to get a rather glazed look if anyone so much as mentions the word glass!

Jewellery is also a great Venetian accomplishment. The privilege of handling a pair of exquisitely wrought cufflinks in the shape of Moors' heads in tourmaline, tiny diamonds and white gold left me gasping; so did the price! Sadly they are still there!

Leaving the teeming hordes at San Marco, one can take a leisurely stroll through the labyrinthine Dorso Duro; the Salute side of the city, which, thankfully, is not as densely frequented.

Streets, bridges and blind alleys form a veritable maze as one tries to follow the little yellow signs that indicate the two bridges across the Grand Canal, Rialto and Accademia, in order to keep one's bearings and not get hopelessly lost.

Up and down tiny bridges onto fondamenti and under sottoporteghi one goes, with everyday Venetian life going on in its inimitable way on the water as the vegetables, gorgeously displayed on a barge, float colourfully by.

Refuse collectors, taxis, drinks distributors; it's all done on water; all to the sound of the inimitable Venetian dialect which has more in common with the cries of seagulls than normal everyday Italian! Funereal but ever so graceful gondolas carrying intrepid tourists, steered by gondoliers with inimitable elegance, soundlessly divide the grey-green canal water.

Funerals, baptisms and weddings happen in the water too and the great ceremony of the Marriage of Venice with the Adriatic that was immortalised by so many artists remains a reality even today.

I had not been to Venice for quite some time and had almost forgotten its uniqueness and imperilled beauty as the pollution belched out by the chimneys of distant industrialised Mestre takes its toll.

For as long as I remember, Venice has been under threat. As a child I would imagine San Marco as a sort of "Cathedrale Engloutie" to the extent that after the terrible floods in Florence in the 1960s I wondered whether I would grow up fast enough to be in time to see it before it sank completely! I am glad to say that after my fourth visit it is still there and is as alluring as ever.

kzt@onvol.net