When you think of Venice, you think of canals. I take that as a given. But unless you are a maniac for old maps, you may not have noticed how many towers punctuate the city.
Many (most?) medieval cities in Europe were spikier than a drove of porcupines, and the Venetian skyline in the 1730 engraving can still be discerned. I was all set to blame Napoleon for any that are missing, but he was focused primarily on despoiling churches, not dismantling towers.
The prime destroyer was lightning. It took Venice a surprisingly long time — i.e., more than one disaster — to address the problem of lightning’s propensity to ignite a disastrous fire, but eventually lightning rods were installed on many belltowers. (Along the same lines, gunpowder was originally stored in the Arsenal, and strange to say it took more than one lightning bolt for the administrators to grasp the importance of storing it on neighboring islands. One such island is called San Angelo delle Polvere — Saint Angelo of the Powder. The wisdom of storing gunpowder outside the city was confirmed on August 29, 1689, when lightning struck the island and all 800 barrels exploded.)
Back to towers. There are a few churches whose bells (or budget) didn’t even merit a tower. Exhibit A: The magnificent basilica of SS. Giovanni e Paolo.
Indulge me as I conduct roll call. I will follow the sequence of church names printed in Latin below the engraving, but I’ll translate them into the common Italian versions we know. The German names, printed above the towers, will be left for you to decipher for whatever weird crossword you may be working that actually asks for this information.
Bear in mind that the image shows three dimensions, so don’t think the churches are all lined up like the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall, meaning no disrespect. To churches or Rockettes.
Fun and witty as always. Thank you for including Torcello. The sole time I’ve been there, the tower was encased in scaffolding, giving it the proportions and gridiron look of a New York City skyscraper.
Fascinating stuff. The picture of the tower reflected in the puddle, with the people climbing the stairs, is a hell of a picture, EZ. Great seeing! Bravo!
This was completely delightful! I especially loved the little reflections of the towers in the puddle. As long semi-residents, we took special pleasure in the towers of Burano, some of which seem to be leaning perilously. As always, your work is a revelation.. Thank you.
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful. And always so informative. On our next visit I need to pay closer attention to some of those magnificent towers. Love the reflection shot. Thanks for sharing your knowledge.
Ronda
Thanks so so much Erla for pulling this together.
History, slices of life, and your welcomed humor, combined with beautiful photographs, has made for a lovely morning. Would that this were longer…
Delightful, and informative, as usual. Well worth waiting for. I was pleasantly surprised how
many I could recall and name. Must’ve spent even longer staring about me with wide open eyes than I thought, in Venice over the years.
Thank you yet again. (Sighs)
How does this happen? I have spent the last few weeks slowly going through a book called Venice from the Bell Towers and now you write this wonderful, wonderful post. My obsessive little heart is delighted. What an incredible amount of work you must have put in! As always I love your photos and your touches of wit. Thanks also for the link to your post on Santa Marta, written before I discovered your blog, as the evolution of the Campo di Marte is one of the rabbit holes I disappeared down recently.
Wonderful pictures, Erla. In a way I envy that kind of devotion that drove people to building these magnificent places of worship. In Leshan in China I have also visited a giant Buddha-figure carved in the bedrock and I can only imagine the hard work put into it. To be a part of a community of faith is truly a blessing. Then I The part about “drove of porcupines” cracked me up though!
I guess San Simeon Piccolo is called so just because the church itself is small however huge the dome might be, a wonderful irony indeed.
Regarding the golden thingy a quote from Tom Lehrer immediately sprang to mind; “When correctly viewed, everything is lewd”, but that’s quite another story.
Glad to hear, or read as the case might be, from you again!
All the best from Solna!
/Andreas
14 Comments
Fun and witty as always. Thank you for including Torcello. The sole time I’ve been there, the tower was encased in scaffolding, giving it the proportions and gridiron look of a New York City skyscraper.
Fascinating stuff. The picture of the tower reflected in the puddle, with the people climbing the stairs, is a hell of a picture, EZ. Great seeing! Bravo!
Very interesting!!! Unfortunately, the photos did not “come up” in my email.
I take that back- I had to scroll farther to find your very fine photos.
Lovely, as usual, and some smiles as well. Thank you, Erla
Thanks so much. Would you check your inbox? My emails to you keep getting bounced back.
This was completely delightful! I especially loved the little reflections of the towers in the puddle. As long semi-residents, we took special pleasure in the towers of Burano, some of which seem to be leaning perilously. As always, your work is a revelation.. Thank you.
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful. And always so informative. On our next visit I need to pay closer attention to some of those magnificent towers. Love the reflection shot. Thanks for sharing your knowledge.
Ronda
Absolutely lovely, Erla, and so interesting, thank you so much.
Thanks so so much Erla for pulling this together.
History, slices of life, and your welcomed humor, combined with beautiful photographs, has made for a lovely morning. Would that this were longer…
Delightful, and informative, as usual. Well worth waiting for. I was pleasantly surprised how
many I could recall and name. Must’ve spent even longer staring about me with wide open eyes than I thought, in Venice over the years.
Thank you yet again. (Sighs)
How does this happen? I have spent the last few weeks slowly going through a book called Venice from the Bell Towers and now you write this wonderful, wonderful post. My obsessive little heart is delighted. What an incredible amount of work you must have put in! As always I love your photos and your touches of wit. Thanks also for the link to your post on Santa Marta, written before I discovered your blog, as the evolution of the Campo di Marte is one of the rabbit holes I disappeared down recently.
If you start looking at the old maps of Venice — I mean, back hundreds of years — you will never get out. I’m glad you have sensed this in time!
Wonderful pictures, Erla. In a way I envy that kind of devotion that drove people to building these magnificent places of worship. In Leshan in China I have also visited a giant Buddha-figure carved in the bedrock and I can only imagine the hard work put into it. To be a part of a community of faith is truly a blessing. Then I The part about “drove of porcupines” cracked me up though!
I guess San Simeon Piccolo is called so just because the church itself is small however huge the dome might be, a wonderful irony indeed.
Regarding the golden thingy a quote from Tom Lehrer immediately sprang to mind; “When correctly viewed, everything is lewd”, but that’s quite another story.
Glad to hear, or read as the case might be, from you again!
All the best from Solna!
/Andreas