79. London, Westminster Bridge, under Repair, 1754.

Oil on canvas, about 46 x 75 cm.

Private Collection.  

 

 

Venice’s alleyways are nearly impassable. Connected by 350 bridges, they form a labyrinth that few can navigate. As they are paved with flat stones, they become terribly slippery in the rain. In this case, the gondoliers provide a fortunate solution. For comfort and pleasantness of ride, de Brosses correctly stated that no vehicle compares to the gondola. The adviser carefully describes, “this boat, long and narrow as a fish, almost like a shark. The front of it is armed with a large iron crane neck-shaped piece equipped with six iron teeth. The entire boat is varnished with black paint. The outside bodywork is lined with black velvet. It has Moroccan leather cushions of the same colour. Even the most important noblemen are not permitted to have one that is in any way different than the others, so there is no point in speculating about who might possibly be on the gondola. One is there, like one would be in one’s own chamber, to read, write and converse, while one is carrying out visits in the city. Two men, who demonstrate their staunch loyalty, one up front and one at the back, take you along without bothering to see if that is what you really want. I don’t hope for any more than finding myself cool and calm in a coach after trying this out. I have heard it said that there are never as many traffic problems with gondolas as there are with cars in Paris, but, on the contrary, nothing is more common, especially on the narrow waterways and under the bridges. Although these problems never last very long, the fluidity of movement on water allows for a great ease in resolving them. Furthermore, our drivers here have so much skill. They glide right along and, with one push of their hand, no one knows how, turn this very long vessel on the head of a pin. These vehicles move quickly, but not as quickly as a young master’s carriage. Nevertheless, you would be well advised not to stick your head outside the gondola. The shark’s mouth of a passing gondola might cut it off as cleanly as one can cut a turnip in two. There are an infinite number of gondolas. There are not less than sixty thousand people who make a living off rowing, whether they are gondoliers, or in some other capacity”.

 

Canaletto painted the landing pier in front of the Piazzetta, the marble stairs that went down to the sea, and the boards that allowed lords and ladies to comfortably get down to the light boats and the gondolas lined up between the piles. He also represented them no more in their black liveries, but fading away under embellishments and drapes of all different colours. Here, it is a decked out cortege of boats that has to accompany Bucintoro on the Day of Ascension. The enormous galley, resembling a monster covered with golden scales, waits in front of the Doges’ Palace where the solemn reception of Count Gergi, Louis XV’s ambassador, takes place. The representative of the King of France has just landed and prepares to enter the Doges’ Palace. Several characters in gala costume, as opulent as those who have just embarked, cover the wharf. This work, one of Canaletto’s most beautiful and most important, was acquired by the Russian empress Catherine and now hangs in the Saint Petersburg Museum. Or perhaps these are preparations for a nautical celebration. The view, from a kiosk built between the Foscari and Balbi palaces, stretches to the Rialto Bridge along the Grand Canal, covered with boats bearing statutes on their prows and decorated in a most dazzling and capricious style. In these diverse paintings, there are boats with two, four and six mariners and bissones with eight rowers. The boats were also called grosso serpente due to their length, their pointed bows and the quickness with which they moved. On regatta days, they cut across the lagoons to maintain order and ensure the smooth circulation of traffic. Of all the Venetian celebrations, there were none like the gondola races. The election of a doge, news of a military victory, a foreign prince passing through: all of these became excuses for organizing this spectacle whose production was truly marvellous. The beauty of the sky, the emulation of individuals and government officials, the crowd’s enthusiasm, the lavish outfits and boats transformed these jousts into something like Venetian Olympic Games. Eager, laughing faces squeezed into the palace windows[14] on balconies decorated with tapestries embroidered with silver and gold thread; in the end, there was nothing, including the animosity of the rival parties, that did not contribute to the splendour of the celebration.