Maskmaking at Tragicomica—Venice

AFTER DAYS OF MUSEUM-MUSEUM-MUSEUM, Sandy Osceola and her two daughters needed to step off the tourist treadmill. So they stepped into the Tragicomica workshop, spending a morning decorating masks. It turned out to be a highlight of their vacation. Not only was it great fun to be together painting and gluing on feathers and sequins, but they also got an entertaining art history lesson while they were at it.

Tragicomica is one of the finest spots in Venice to pick up traditional masks, and rent hats, sumptuous ball gowns and capes for Carnevale. The store is packed with these fantasy-inspiring goodies, and a wonderful place to browse even if you’re not heading to the back for the workshop.

Gualtiero Dall’Osto is Tragicomica’s master maskmaker, following in the footsteps of artists who began dressing up Venetian partiers in the thirteenth century. His creations have been exhibited internationally, and he’s designed costumes and set pieces for theaters all over Italy, including La Scala in Milan.

In the 1970s Dall’Osto was one of a group who fought successfully to bring back the Venice Carnevale that Mussolini had put an end to in the 1930s. The traditional pre-Lent party began in Venice in the twelfth century. It was named Carnevale from the Latin for “Farewell meat!” because the forty days before Easter were days of abstinence.

Masks were initially worn only during Carnevale. But then came the wild eighteenth-century era. With rascally guys like Casanova running around, being in disguise all year long had its advantages. Fellas who were in debt could wear a mask to gambling rooms and play undiscovered by creditors. Married gals could slip away for romantic trysts without damaging their reputations. Ultimately the government stepped in and banned mask-wearing except for Carnevale, as they felt things with the citizenry were getting way out of control.

The Osceola’s hour-and-a-half workshop kicked off with an entertaining demonstration by Dall’Osto’s assistant, Alessandra. Putting on masks, she showed how each one has a story behind it, corresponding to a Commedia dell’Arte character or a bit of Venetian history. Next came a demonstration of how papier–mâché is molded on to forms for the first stage of the mask-making process.

Sandy and her daughters picked out blank masks to decorate and got to work in the backroom, right where expert artisans turn out the pretty things that fill the shop. Sandy chose a Medico della Peste, the Plague Doctor mold. That’s the one you’ve seen in so many photos, with the long-beak-shaped nose and tiny eyeholes. It originated in the sixteenth century when doctors would stuff the nose with a sponge soaked in vinegar, so they could move plague victims around and be protected from the disease. Sandy’s daughters, Jessica (21) and Marissa (12), went for styles that they decorated with paints and sequins to look as though they could be eighteenth-century ladies on their way to a Carnevale ball.

By lunchtime they had three one-of-a-kind souvenirs. Now back at home, the masks bring back great memories of the trip the Osceolas took to celebrate Jessica’s graduation from college. Moreover, they’ll always remind them of the entertaining spirit that pervades the unique city of Venice.

Tragicomica: Calle dei Nomboli, off Campo San Toma in San Polo, 041 721102, www.tragicomica.it.

TOUR

European Connection (www.europeanconnection.com) arranges maskmaking classes and is an excellent company that custom-designs itineraries for trips throughout Italy.