Canaletto. Octave Uzanne
life and his work, it behoves us to draw a portrait of his birthplace and contemporaries. This is particularly important because at that time, perhaps more than at any other, art, literature and entertainment shared a joint development. Could one truly understand the origin and progression of the master’s talent, his intellectual habits and work methods, without first understanding the society of which he was a member?
Taking an initial glance at Venice’s history, one cannot but be filled with wonder by the powerful energy and the expansive force of its people, enclosed as they are within such narrow limits. The city was thus stimulated by the most ardent patriotism; the prosperity and existence of each being inextricably linked to the interests of the city. Yet nothing is more modest than the origins of this small village of boatmen, nothing more desolate than the sands on which the first bands of fugitives settled. Nevertheless, nothing can match the heights reached by this Republic capable of launching a fleet of five hundred ships into the Bosporus, of navigating three thousand vessels together, and of developing, with the most diverse elements, an original artistic tradition. In this way, Venice assured its standing among the great kingdoms of Europe. With need for neither barriers nor fortifications, being well protected from warships by its shallow lagoons, the city could not be overtaken by outside forces. With a footing in the Middle East and Cyprus, the city continued its crusade along the Mediterranean coastline in Morea and on the island of Candia. Venetian soldiers never lagged in the war against the infidel. At Lepanto, for example, Venice furnished half of the Christian fleet.
Nevertheless, although the military spirit, which quickly died out in the neighbouring principalities, survived over a longer period in Venice, the city’s prestige started to diminish. Geographical discoveries brought a fatal blow to its commerce and the Portuguese soon inherited all the traffic headed for Asia. Politics, carried out by a jealous oligarchy that flattered the Epicurean tendencies of the people, finally got the better of the city’s bellicose behaviour and wish for power.
Of this government steeped in prestige, luxury and a terrible threat of torture, today we are familiar with its infernal police and secret dungeons, all the exterior workings that supplied the Romantic period with the subjects for so many plays and paintings. We know about the Council of Ten, whose masked judges met only at night, the room from which the accused departed only to disappear forever, and “the leads”, the prison under the Doges’ Palace from which Casanova managed to escape in an act of prodigious will. What hasn’t been said about the three state inquisitors and their irrevocable sentences, about the boat with the red lantern light that would stop under the Bridge of Sighs before floating past Giudecca towards the Orfano canal, where deep waters enshrouded their victims and their secrets, where fishermen were prohibited from casting their nets? A row of wooden stilts indicated the waters where the boat would stop. Still today, one of the posts supports, with a lamp lit by gondoliers, the tiny chapel that received the last prayer of these supplicants.
In the eighteenth century, a new political atmosphere was definitively set in place. Venice’s prestigious history was over and the careers of great artists and great patriots were forever ended. In vain did Francesco Morosini,[1] for his prowess in Morea and on Candia Island, earn the nickname “Peloponnesiac”. In vain did the old Marshal Schulembourg, who served twenty-eight years as General of the Republican Armies, merit the honour of an equestrian statue in Corfu Square. The lion of Saint Mark drew in its claws and the Queen of the Adriatic dozed off into a voluptuous nonchalance that only the bells of a masquerade could trouble. Moreover, the leaders kept up a system of perpetual amusement for the population. They thought this the most prudent method of guarding against intrigues, as this was the surest way to divert people’s minds from unsettling preoccupations. For Venetians, who were naturally drawn to lavishness and superficial appearances, and who were located somewhere between unlimited freedom, as far as pleasure was concerned, and an absolute prohibition against discussing the actions of those in power, constant celebrations and the most rowdy of pleasures became a necessity. In this Cytherean court, which had never produced a Watteau, there was an overabundance of gaiety and the decadence was, at least, as sweet and bright as an evening on the banks of the lagoons.
5. Entrance to the Grand Canal from the Molo, Venice, 1742–1744.
Oil on canvas, 114.5 × 153.5 cm.
National Gallery of Art, Washington, D. C.
6. The Grand Canal, from the Foscari Palace, c. 1735.
Oil on canvas, 57.2 × 92.7 cm.
Private Collection.
7. The Grand Canal: looking South-east from the Campo Santa Sophia to the Rialto Bridge, c. 1756.
Oil on canvas, 119 × 185 cm.
Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Berlin.
8. The Grand Canal from the Fondamenta della Croce, c. 1734.
Pencil and dark ink, 26.9 × 37.6 cm.
The Royal Collection, London.
Il Carnavale
Over a period of six months, the carnival attracted throngs of close to thirty thousand foreigners to Venice. Its theme: down with serious matters, long live freedom and folly! Yokels and patricians alike seemed to be overtaken by the same vertiginous activities, consumed by parades of people dressed up as astrologers, doctors, lawyers and gondoliers. Among the clowns, who wore huge cone-shaped hats, the most nimble of the bunch advanced on their hands, others danced about while playing barrel organs and the whole group whirled about to the sound of lively music. The people, free to loudly express their condemnation or approval, followed each group with shouts, catcalls, applause and jeers. At Saint Mark’s Square, the major neighbourhood for masks, one wandered about without advancing through the dense crowd. The seven theatres reserved for the carnival proving to be inadequate for the festivities, harlequins performed their tomfoolery in the open air and comedic improvisers amused spectators with their buffoonery. At the smaller intersections, feats of strength and sleight of hand were organized. At the end of the carnival, there remained nothing but a few scattered passers-by appropriately armed with axes and cutlasses to defend themselves against the bulls that were led through the streets, fighting in certain places.
On Fat Thursday, the butchers’ festival, a bull was beheaded with a single blow of the sword, a barbaric amusement established to commemorate an old victory over the Patriarch of Aquileia. The latter, accompanied by twelve clergymen captured at the same time, was to be beheaded in Saint Mark’s Square, but, for some reason, this public execution did not take place, and twelve pigs and a bull were substituted for the condemned in order to appease the public. That same Thursday, the doge watched the Strengths of Hercules,[2] a game consisting of the construction of a human pyramid with a base of eight men locked arm in arm and capped with a child. In addition, an acrobat equipped with wings glided down a rope stretched between the top of the bell tower and the Doges’ Palace balcony. Taking this aerial route, he arrived in front of the doge, offered him compliments and flowers, and then showered poetry and sonnets upon the crowd, enjoyed even by the least literate. A war of fists was another gift of lively amusement for the spectators. In this bizarre jousting match, two sides advanced atop a narrow bridge with no parapet, namely the Saint Barnabas bridge, and each forced his way through, knocking his adversaries into the water. Seeing the fighters fall like grapes into the water, the spectators beat their hands together as wildly as possible.
The whole of Venice was consumed in this rejoicing, in the enthusiasm of the crowd, in this emulation of which paintings and engravings give us a rather sketchy idea, in the joyful stamping of feet and cheering for the conqueror, in the freedom reigning sovereign over the city, encouraged by the incognito mask that, for the moment, suppressed all decorum and social inequality! The mask was a constant custom in Venetian mores. A mask was required to enter the gaming rooms, or ridotti, densely crowded with men and women. It was not unusual to see costumed nobles walk into the Doges’ Palace, removing their domino in
Francisco Morosini, after experiencing the effects of Venice’s political jealousy, was appointed Generalissimo. In 1688, honour was bestowed upon his glorious name. He was then elected doge. The pope sent him a sword and helmet because of his role as Defender of the Faith.
See Guardi’s painting in the Louvre.