Roberto Dei Rossi has been making gondolas for 40 years, one of only four men in Venice capable of this feat.
Yes indeed, it has been several eternities since I have scribbled a post — though I have written many in my mind, as I watched the pages fall off the calendar and blow away in the wind, etc. etc.
I was entangled in the finishing (“ultimating,” in Italian, which is so cool. They can make verbs out of anything.) of a large and very long-drawn-out project of researching and writing an article on the gondola, and more specifically about Roberto Dei Rossi, who makes them. I started the research in February, 2019, and there were many stops along the way, especially that long one during the three-month lockdown from March to May. The story is now online at “Craftsmanship” magazine.
I’m hoping to get back in the groove now with my blog, for any of you who may still be out there waiting to read….
Venice, Gondolas, and Black Magic
The gondola’s fundamental secret is its asymmetry. The boat isn’t straight, but that’s what makes it go straight when rowed by one oar. Note: Not paddle, not pole, but an oar.
The basic ribs of the gondola, made of three pieces of wood, reveal the inherent shape. The straight bottom piece is made of oak, the side pieces are elm.
The gondola is built from the inside out; what look like the boat’s sides are temporary pieces (“serci”) that resist the pressure of construction until it’s time for the permanent sides to be attached.
It is not falling over. This is the gondola at rest and it’s built this way to make it easier to maneuver through the narrow canals and even to turn on its own axis without any headway (the only boat that can do this).
Most rowing clubs have at least one gondola. This view of a gondola returning to the Remiera Francescana clearly shows the boat’s asymmetry.
Certainly there are standard measurements, but the work is done largely by eye, followed by fingers and experience. You will never be able to build a gondola by working merely from a plan; there are too many adjustments to be made and these are only discovered by practice.
Of course he knows exactly what he’s looking at and either seeing or not seeing. Some infinitesimal change may be at hand; I never asked while he was working. We’d still be there, a year later, if he were to have stopped every time I wanted to know something.
He could have all the tools that were ever made, but this folding metal measuring stick is the one that really counts.
I almost never saw him wearing glasses. It began to obsess me.
It’s strenuous with power tools? It was even harder without them, especially when gondolas were always built with planks of wood instead of marine plywood. Still, a day here can easily wear you out.
Or maybe suffocate you a little, from time to time.
The inner surfaces are now full of the points of screws. Well, it’s inside, you may think, what difference does it make?
It makes enough of a difference that he has to spend some time now cutting off each point, one by one.
Eight different kinds of wood are used to make a gondola.
Dei Rossi doesn’t carve the decoration; a master carver executes the designs according to the gondolier’s request.
Of course he’s happy — after two months of work, the next new gondola is about to be launched.