San Giacométo, Venice’s first hub, is how the Venetians affectionately refer to the Rialto church inaugurated on March 25, 421, the feast of the Annunciation. A Greek carpenter built it to make good on a promise he had made to the saint to whom he prayed to stop a fire from devouring his wood home.
Doge Vitale Falier came into the picture in 1094 with an edict that cited a magic word for the first time: Carnevale. He authorized all Venetians to participate freely. In 1298, the senate of the republic proclaimed Carnevale a public holiday. From the aristocrats to the populace, everyone would revel for six weeks straight starting on December 26.
The celebration was eventually enhanced with richer entertainment, tournaments, theatrical and musical performances, regattas, and parades, all of which made the Venetians exceptionally proud. In the Baroque era, the who’s who of Europe flocked there to party and partake in forbidden pleasures, concealing their identity with masks.
Gabriel Bella (1730-99), The Last Day of Carnival on San Marco Square, oil on canvas (ph DEA / A. Dagli Orti / De Agostini via Getty Images)
An 18th-century riddle goes as follows:
Vi starò in faccia e pur non mi vedrete,
E mi vedrete se starò distante
E all’occhio ed al color conoscerete,
Che sempre copre il ver, il mio sembiante
The answer? A mask — a disguise.
The most famous mask is the Bauta, the one with the disturbing white face that Venetians referred to as la larva (ghostlike). Complete with a black tricorno (the three-pointed Venetian hat) and black cape, the Bauta conceals the hair and shoulders and was worn by both men and women. The Moretta, on the other hand, was worn only by women. A black velvet oval conceals the entire face, and she’d have to keep it in place by biting down on a small button. This forced her to remain silent, so the ladies could speak only with their eyes and body movements, which led to a refined game of seduction.
Giacomo Casanova also took advantage of the masks (in the engraving, below). His memoirs include an anecdote from the year 1745. One night, he was at the Inn of the Two Swords in Rialto with some of his high-society friends. He noticed a beautiful lady getting bored in the company of her husband and other relatives. Unable to resist the temptation of a joke, Casanova and his friends pretended to be members of the dreaded Council of Ten and "deported" the terrified relatives of the woman to the island of San Giorgio. They left them there all night while they chatted with the lady — who was no longer bored.
Giacomo Casanova - Etching by Johann Berka, 1788 (ph Imagno/Getty Images)
The rich and the poor partook in separate Carnivals but came together to celebrate the traditional feast of the Dodici Marie (Twelve Marys). The twelve girls in medieval costumes who open the celebrations today are a tribute to this tradition, which stemmed from a historical episode. From the city’s origins on February 2, the day of Mary's purification, twelve brides were blessed in the church of San Pietro di Castello. In 946, Dalmatian pirates kidnapped them, but the furious people, led by the Doge, pursued the marauders to free the girls.
Every February 2 since then,12 patrician families “adopted” 12 wives of the people and provided them with a dowry. The chosen ones, called le Marie, paraded, dressed, and accessorized at the expense of their benefactors to the applause of the people. They’d attend a banquet hosted by the doge.
Speaking of banquets, Venice’s Carnevale has always had a very strong gastronomic dimension – it’s not a party if you don’t eat well. The recipe for the fritole (fried pastries with raisins and orange peels) sold on the street corner from the fritolara during Casanova’s time is the same as those prepared today, demonstrating that food is history and the legacy of those who lived and ... tasted before us.
Here, Venetians savor their fritole, crostoli, and galani (both sweet crispy fritters) while colorful confetti covers them as they celebrate and rediscover their roots, the flavors of their tradition, and a shared heritage. The joy of an ancient festival in a city that turns 1600 years old and...does not show its age. Happy birthday, queen of the Adriatic, and buon Carnevale!
As Oscar Wilde wrote, “A mask tells us more than a face.”
Tempt your appetite by clicking through the photo gallery!
Photography Riccardo Lettieri
Styling Beatrice Prada