After I delivered my first novel to my publishers, I went back to Venice in
search of locations for a film about the unseen city. Flying over the folds
of the Italian Alps, through a break in the clouds, the channels in the
lagoon appeared startlingly beautiful, and marked by delicate dark green
furrows; pencil lines on water. Early-morning boats moved languidly and the
air, when we landed, was sea-fresh and sweet.
I had a list of places that I felt represented the spirit of the city. One of
them was the Museo Navale, visited so rarely by tourists that the entrance
fee has been waived.
On the top floor is a jet-black collection of stately old gondolas. The
vanished past never fails to greet me here with a lagoon-like
mysteriousness. The room has an elegiac quality. I cannot come to Venice
without visiting this museum. If I don’t see a single Tintoretto or cross
the Rialto Bridge, it does not matter. Venice is about the sea and about
navigating it. So this museum is a must, for the heart of the city and all
its past preoccupations lie sleeping here.
Before I leave I take a look at some old favourites. The tiny models of the
lagoon, the pen-and-ink drawings of ships on delicate paper and threadbare
fabric motifs of bees embroidered in gold thread.
I wanted to link this place with a more primitive landscape so I take the No
13 Vaporetto to Sant’Erasmo. It is here in this place of unearthly beauty,
wild in winter, somewhat melancholy even in summer, that I find my perfect
location. Herons fish in the canals. A shrine to the Virgin Mary stands in a
ploughed field, and shimmering in the heat haze on the other side of the
water is the skyline of campanili. I walk through fields stripped bare of
artichokes and vineyards heavy with grapes. Sant’ Erasmo is the market
garden of Venice, supplying the Rialto market with fresh produce. After some
fish at a bar hidden away on a sandy beach I watch the fishermen transport
their nets of soft-shelled crabs submerged at the boat’s side.
The vaporetto drops me back at the Fondamenta Nuove and I almost lose my
bearings searching for Crea, Venice’s most famous and flamboyant
gondola-maker. Through the entrance I can see a man planeing one of those
strange supports that hold the oar called a forcolo. Behind him in the
darkness is the skeleton shape of a boat, the lifeblood of La Serenissima.
Seagulls perch on bricolle (the posts marking the waterways) in this most
beautiful city of birds. It was a flight of birds that inspired the people
of Altinum to settle in the lagoon. Swallows scribble across the sky feeding
on the mosquitoes. I need to capture the spirit of all of this in the film.
Before arriving, I made a note to visit the sites of the old nunneries. There
have been colonies of nuns in the lagoon since 640; in the 16th century
there were as many as 50 of them. Now most of them have gone and all that
remains is a tree where once sugared almonds were hung to lure the
unfortunate young girls to their imprisonment. I decided to look for
Sant’Alvise and its cruel past, its veiled and secret life, but the only
trace I can find of the convent is an arch set into the wall of the
Arsenale. And San Zaccaria, the oldest convent in the city, is now the
police headquarters.
The morning was over and feeling suddenly tired, I returned to the hotel for a
siesta. When I awoke it was to Di quella pira from Il Trovatore. The unseen
singer was accompanied by persistent sounds of hammering and hurrying feet.
Venice is in a constant state of repair. Its soundtrack is full of
incongruities, part opera, part echoes, part everyday work. The charm of
being here is imagining what intense, mysterious Venetian life might go on
just a few feet away across the narrow calle. What is the strange attraction
of these little alleyways? I can’t get enough of them nor of the glimpses of
daily life going on around. There is something magical about these closed
worlds where every square foot has a private significance; I have always had
a child’s longing to live in this place.
While I had been sleeping the light outside became translucent. Thousands of
canaries seemed to sing in the upstairs rooms of tiny flats as I stepped out
of the hotel. And I remember that at night there is a shop near the Frari
church through whose shuttered windows can be heard the soft rustle of small
caged birds. I decided to look for this shop but end up near the Accademia
where the light against the crumbling walls brings out the city’s lost
colours of gold and vermillion. Evening is approaching. The tawdry and the
carnivalesque vanish. The heart of the city, until now, cunningly hidden
from prying eyes, emerges.
Inside the Accademia I found my favourite painting. Madonna with Child has
been cleaned; Bellini’s colours are even more beautiful than I remember from
my previous visit. Later I see a deep red rose hanging over the wall of a
garden glimpsed through a wrought-iron gate, the softened interior of an
atelier in San Paolo selling old mirrors retrieved from a prewar Fenice.
After dinner at the Trattoria Dona Onesta I took a vaporetto along the Grand
Canal. At Santa Maria della Salute an unexpected narrative unfolds. I
stumbled across a group dancing the tango on its steps. Watching the women
in 1930s silk dresses, the men with slicked-back hair, my feet tapping in
time to the music, I marvelled again at the inner life of this unforgettable
city of birds and water.
Mosquito, by Roma Tearne, is published by Harper Press. Her film The Water
Museum will be screened in Venice next spring.
Where to stay
Sarah Turner
Hotel Al Ponte Antico
This hotel has only nine rooms, but it’s a Gothic palace on the Grand Canal
with unbeatable views and is run by the friendliest, most charismatic
hotelier in Venice, Matteo Peruch. Warm, attentive service, wonderful rooms,
and homemade balcony breakfasts make this place very special. Details: Kirker
(020-7593 2288, www.kirkerholidays.com)
has three nights at Al Ponte Antico for £646pp, including flights, B&B
and transfers.
La Calcina
The pensione where Ruskin took up residence in the 19th century looks across
the lagoon to Guidecca. Now with 27 rooms and five suites, La Calcina has
stayed true to its budget ideals (no lifts, and only the suites have
televisions), is still family-run and attracts Venice’s more aesthetic
visitors. Details: 00 39 041 520 6466, www.lacalcina.com.
Doubles from £67, including breakfast.
Ca’ Maria Adele
This hotel combines a certain amount of camp (such as the ostrich-feather
chandelier in the breakfast room) with a stunning, quiet location next to
the Salute church – and an endlessly accommodating staff. The owners, two
brothers from a Murano glass-blowing family, want their guests to return
again and again – and they do. Details: 520 3078, www.camariaadele.it.
Doubles from £190.
Pensione Accademia
Guests are likely to feel as nurtured as the roses in the garden of the
Pensione Accademia. This deliberately old-fashioned and gentle pensione has
a rare feeling of tranquillity and peace in Venice, with 27 rooms, two large
gardens and its own sweet little mooring, just off the Grand Canal. Details:
521 0188, www.pensioneaccademia.it.
Doubles from £92, including breakfast.
Venice is my FAVORITE city in Italy! And possibly the world for me. Great article and I look forward to returning and visiting the Museo Navale and San Erasmo. I stayed at La Calcina (single room) and loved every minute there.
Monica Pileggi, Frederick, Maryland, USA