In 1436, officials in The Most Serene Republic of Venice granted formal recognition to the Maschereri – The Guild of Mask-Makers. In the years since, masks in the Venetian style have become one of the most iconic symbols of Carnival, and costumed affairs in general. 21st- century day trippers often depart with a keepsake mask in hand. When they do not, it is surely not for lack of opportunity.
Gift-shops around Piazza San Marco and the Grand Canal abound with such souvenirs. Enterprising travelers can also visit workshops where artisans turn out hand-made fabrications in papier-mâché, fabric, or leather. Alberto Sarria began designing and crafting masks in 1980; the year before, il Carnevale was revived after a hiatus of almost 200 years. His studio in the San Polo district was established in 1986. Sofia, his daughter, now carries on the tradition.
Those on straitened budgets can also pick up facsimiles mass-produced in China. Inevitably made of plastic and dubiously sourced paints, they are stamped “ornamental use only”. Prudent advice, to be sure, but it is often disregarded once the purchaser has imbibed an Aperol spritz or three.
Regardless of provenance, popular designs reveal the influence of Commedia dell’arte. The genre first emerged in northern Italy. Itinerant troupes staged bawdy, semi-improvised plays for the merriment of crowds at fairs and festivals. The comedies generally revolved around the antics of stock characters such as Brighella, Colombina, and Arlecchino, a/k/a Harlequin.
Commedia aside, theatrical performances have long been a central feature of carnival. The Compagnie della Calza – clubs of hedonistic nobles – began to organize performances beginning in the mid-1400s. The companies often imposed codes of silence on their members, and were devoted to the dual goals of entertaining audiences and scandalizing their elders. One diarist of the time recalled seeing “a rustic comedy, and it was completely lascivious, with very dirty words”.
Guardians of public morality were vexed by such spectacles, but it was not just the action on stage that bothered them. By 1580, two commercial theaters in the parish of San Cassiano featured enclosed, elevated boxes where local aristocrats and prominent visitors could enjoy a performance in near-total privacy. Such amenities were a hit, though a passion for dramaturgy was not the only selling point. Eugene Johnson, a scholar of renaissance culture, explains that “Venetians quickly figured out how to use these rather cramped palchi as if they were modern motel rooms”
With audience members deriving an inordinate satisfaction from their nocturnal entertainments, the Council of Ten – a tribunal of the city- initially tried to close the theaters on safety grounds, arguing that the wooden structures posed a fire hazard. That such concerns were disingenuous is revealed by a 1582 decree requiring that the boxes be illuminated. Lamps hanging in the corridors were to be kept burning throughout each performance and until the entire audience vacated the premises. Such a measure would surely have inhibited all but the most ardent patrons of the arts. It also heightened the alleged risk of conflagration.
Efforts to regulate or abolish the plays were led, at least in part, but the Society of Jesus. Writing in 1581, Florence’s ambassador to the republic reported that Jesuit priests frequently complained about the “wicked acts” that took place during Carnival performances. Such agitation paid off in 1585, when the Council ordered the destruction of both venues.
Some have suggested that the clerical ire was driven by competitive, rather than purely pastoral, concerns. Members of the order sometimes wrote and staged their own didactic productions; somehow, these proved less popular than secular comedies. In any case it is beyond debate that civil authorities banished Jesuits from Venice in 1607, and the five decades that followed were marked by innovation and exuberance in the performing arts.
Venice’s emergence as an entertainment destination coincided with a decline in its economic power. For centuries, the republic grew rich through a virtual stranglehold on trade with the Byzantine Empire and parts east. That began to change when the Ottoman Turks captured Constantinople. Soon after, Vasco da Gama, a Portuguese explorer, charted a route to India around the Cape of Good Hope. The Dutch and English would further challenge the Venetian monopoly. Investing in novel productions was seen as a way to mitigate the erosion of traditional revenue streams.
Of all La Serenissima’s contributions to European culture, few had as broad an impact as dramma per musica, what we now know as opera. Sung dramas were performed in royal and patrician households prior to the 17th century, and many of the stylistic elements had been evolving for decades. Later of course, the idiom spread throughout Italy, across the continent, and around the world. Yet opera, as currently understood, can be traced to 1637. It was during that year’s Carnival that the Teatro San Cassiano staged the first truly public opera for a paying audience.
The idea caught on quickly. Soon there were four theaters devoted to the genre; by 1642 Carnival revelers could chose from no fewer than seven different productions. Within a half century a fully-fledged opera industry had been established on the lagoon.
On an artistic level, many early libretti were written by members of L’Accademia degli Incogniti -- The Academy of the Unknowns – a network of irreverent intellectuals. In addition to dramatic works, the Incogniti produced religious tracts, fiction, and essays. The many printing houses of the city made it the publishing capital of Europe, a reputation bolstered by a quasi-libertarian attitude on the part of the government. As long as authors did not directly criticize the state, there was little repression of themes or ideas. (Ironically, when The Vatican published its first Index of Forbidden Books in 1549, The Church commissioned a Venetian press!)
The Incogniti was not a strictly a Venetian movement. Members hailed from cities throughout Italy, and even from Greece and Denmark. The common thread was the experience of study in Padua, a university city that was conquered by the Doge’s armies in 1405. It was there that Galileo made his discovery of planetary motion and so provoked the wrath of the church. Galileo’s friend and colleague, Cesare Cremonini, was a particular influence on The Unknowns. His spirit of radical wit and playful skepticism became a hallmark of their writings. Topics included the philosophical implications of blushing, a dissertation “On Ugliness”, and fava beans in antiquity.
A commitment to sexual freedom, and an aversion to dogma, sometimes shaded into outright blasphemy or pornography. Ferrante Pallavicino published a particularly scathing critique of Pope Urban VIII. Lured to France, he was arrested by papal agents and executed in 1644 at the age of 28.
In bringing their operatic creations to the public, The Incogniti collaborated with some of the most gifted composers of their era. Claudio Monteverdi frequently wrote for the carnival stage, yet he also served as Maestro di Capelli at St. Mark’s, eventually become a priest. Francesco Cavalli composed dozens of wildly popular operas before being name the principal organist of the basilica. In music, as in Carnival, the sacred and the profane often go hand in hand.
Thank you once again for a fascinating look into history!