Vela al Terzo: centuries of sailing the Venetian lagoon
Aug 2, 2010 About Venice, Vita venexiàn
Unless you’re an avid sailing enthusiast, you’ve probably never noticed that the colorful canvases tilting into the summer wind as they criss-cross the Venetian lagoon aren’t shaped like sails you’d see elsewhere (…what a surprise). Look closely – they’re not triangular, not trapezoidal, and not rhombus shaped, but a odd quadrilateral with four unequal sides suspended on a mast one-third of the way from the shortest one — thus the name: Vela al terzo.
And this is how they look when there’s a traditional caorlina underneath, participating in a local regata. The caorlina is one maintained by the associazione Arzanà. If you look closely, you’ll see that the masts and rigging are as traditional as the craft itself.
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Venice Redentore 2010: a one-night, in-town getaway
Jul 18, 2010 Events & Offerings, Vita venexiàn
The Comune estimated that there were over 110,000 visitors a Venezia for the Festa della Rendentore, most of them no doubt expecting to swelter in the oppressive heat that’s turned the city into sauna in recent weeks. A temporale, or intense storm, was predicted for about 11 p.m., just a half-hour before the half-hour long fireworks display was to begin; as disruptive as it would have been, if it in the end had provided any heat-relief I don’t think anyone would have complained.
It turned out to be nothing of the sort. As we were hanging the last of the vibrant lampioni (decorative lanterns) on our battela in Canal Grande, a not terribly ominous layer of cloud cover swirled overhead, providing a welcome shield from the afternoon sun. When it moved on — we could breathe again. Oxygen. Dryer air. Fewer gradi. Ready for the Redentore.
After a particularly taxing trip navigating the Grand Canal among boats of every shape and size, each filled to the brim with revelers, we rounded the Punta della Dogana and moored in the space reserved only for craft arriving by oar. Behind us, strewn along the fondamenta of the recently-renovated Punta della Dogana, a private dinner party with live music (American pop standards) was already in full swing. There will be many other nights like this, and I’ll be standing here with someone new…
After lots of food, traditional and otherwise, and even more chatting and general reveling, in our own boat and among the others surrounding us, it was finally time for the big show…sans temporale, fortunately.
(You can find larger versions of these photos on the Facebook page gallery.)
Extra, extra: Sior Rioba, to be whole once again.
May 4, 2010 About Venice, Vita venexiàn
The news arrived first the via a message from l’Associazione Olivolo (established to protect Venetian tradition), and seemed nothing short of a miracle: they found it. They found the head of our dear Sior Rioba.
The missing marble mass (along with its good-luck iron nose) was discovered this morning in the Sotoportego di Calle de la Racheta (the underpass that connects the calle with the Fondamenta San Felice) by some ecological workers in the area. They turned it over to the police.
On reading the news, I was ecstatic, beside myself, almost unbelieving. Reading others’ reactions on the Cercasi disparatamente Sior Rioba (Desperately Seeking Sior Rioba) facebook page, I saw they were similar. Relief, celebration, exultation.
The entire city had been so stunned and appalled by this senseless act; residents and social networks mobilized immediately, denouncing the defacement and calling for the Sior to be made whole again. But why the extreme reaction? There are certainly greater tragedies, on much larger scales and at human cost, occurring daily. Why all the fuss?
Perhaps that’s the point. Perhaps in these days of car bombs and national bankruptcies becoming as common as colds, senators comporting themselves as 10-year-olds, the term ‘financially successful’ now established as a synonym for screw-everyone-as-long-as-I-get-mine, a massive spigot belching black crude into an emerald gulf, series of natural disasters each more heartbreaking that the last, and an overall lack of respect for every one and every thing manifest in almost every type of institution from government to religious to business, the recovery of an ancient marble head so pointlessly removed from a statue held dear by locals and travelers alike was so welcome, you might have thought we’d all won the lottery.
Given that to win the lottery you have to enter, and that it’s easy to feel powerless in a world where uncertainty is the norm, I’ll celebrate this small, but precious bit of good news, and hold it very, very close. For in the end our Sior Riobas help us withstand the other muck: they are there, stalwart, impervious, unchanging; completely unperturbed by, say, Goldman Sachs’ uncanny ability to humbly endure a senatorial tongue lashing while simultaneously counting the billions they made off the misfortune they sold.
Hang in there, Sior Rioba. When we heard of your misfortune, a wave of indignation flooded the city as thoroughly as any acqua alta we have ever endured. We will now wait for the news of the grande festa once your head is back atop your rounded shoulders, helping you support your load of precious merchandise, keeping watch over the expansive campo named for you and your brothers.
I, for one, will touch that good-luck nose once it’s back where it belongs. We need all the help we can get.
Siòr Rioba: you don’t deserve this.
May 2, 2010 About Venice, Vita venexiàn
Crossing Campo dei Mori yesterday, on the way home from a magnificent row through the barene north of Burano followed by an abundant fish frittura hosted by the Voga e Para rowing club, I was stopped in my tracks when I glanced up at the familiar Moro merchant with the iron nose eternally perched on the corner of the campo to see that he’d be violently vandalized: someone had removed his entire head.
As reported in yesterday’s Gazzettino:
“The marble head of the statue “Sior [Antonio] Rioba,” a symbol of the long-lived merchant tradition of the Serenissima, was pillaged last night in the Campo dei Mori, Venice. Unknown assailants removed his entire head, cutting it off at the base of the neck.
One of the characteristics of the sculpture is its iron nose; the legend states that touching its face, just like the oldest of three [Mastelli] brothers of this merchant family from the east, will bring good fortune. . . .
At the moment, the act is theorized as vandalism. During the same night, someone also cracked the plate glass window of the Rioba restaurant. At this time there is nothing to connect the two incidents, but investigators are continuing to probe.
Venice’s mayor, Giorgio Orsoni, said he was ‘really struck and offended by this stupid, ignorant act that this night had mutilated one of Venice’s most important and popular depictions. I hope that the Rioba statue’s head is located quickly, and that it will still be possible to reattach it with as little damage as possible. This night’s vandalism reminds us once again of the fragility of our artistic patrimony, with its constant exposure to the ignorant and the boorish making it so difficult to protect.’”
This is such a heartbreaker. I’d write an entreaty for his return, but I somehow doubt whoever perpetrated this crime reads this silly blog. I’ll just go on hoping they find him.
For a more of photos of the statue before and after its defacement, see the the Facebook group Cercasi Rioba disperatamente (Desperately Seeking Rioba):, and Rioba.it.
Tags: Campo dei Mori, Mastelli brothers, Rioba, vandalism, venice
Snowing Venice
Mar 10, 2010 Vita venexiàn
These fat white flakes turned to slush almost immediately, and by Friday will be distant memory, hopefully. In the meantime, we’ll huddle up with a nice bowl of zuppa di lenticchie (lentil soup), pasta e fagioli, polenta con ragù, or, heck, polenta with anything…
Did I mention, it’s March? March?
