(VENICE, ITALY) I
haven't always lived on the Grand Canal. When I first moved to Venice
back in 1998, I lived way down in Castello in a tiny ground floor
apartment in Corte Sarasina, off Via Garibaldi. It was sort of like
living in the Bronx, I imagine. I had just moved here from Hollywood,
and thought doing my own laundry would be romantic. (It has since lost
its charm.)
Corte Sarasina is important because it has a Madonna that
works miracles, and I can personally vouch for her authenticity:)
Ten
years ago, the people of Corte Sarasina did not have many Americans
living among them, so I was kind of a novelty. They were friendly, warm,
good-hearted people. They spoke Venetian dialect, not Italian. I didn't
speak a word of Italian, let alone Venetian, but somehow we managed to
communicate with our hearts.
Every afternoon the old women would put their chairs out in the corte,
do their lace work, and chat -- their lace-making style was different
than Burano because they were from Pellestrina. They took good care of
me.
One day I decided to wash my sheets. I asked my next-door neighbor (who was an Austrian pianist) if I could use
her laundry line. Since ours were ground floor apartments, you had to
hang the laundry with clothes pins, then sort of hoist it like a sail. The laundry line stretched from one side of the corte to the other.
Well, I couldn't hoist it up, and blocked the entire
corte with my sheets sprawled across the center. The old women came and took my laundry away from me, and told me to get on my way -- they knew I had an appointment close to Piazza San Marco. You have to
understand that even though it's only about 15 minutes by foot from Via
Garibaldi to Piazza San Marco, some people in Castello haven't been to
San Marco for 30 years. So, to them, I was going on this great
adventure. While I was up there, I bought them a box of chocolate to
thank them.
When
I got back to Corte Sarasina, all my laundry was flying from their
windows! It was a sight to behold. They had divided it up and shared
their laundry lines. (That image you see is not Corte Sarasina, but it
looked sort of like that.)
After it was dried and neatly folded, they
sent over a representative, Rosie, to deliver it. I offered the
chocolates, but Rosie refused. Then five minutes later she was sent back
to get the chocolates. (You can just imagine that conversation: "What?
You didn't take the chocolates? Get your butt back over there and get
them.")
Next,
I saw Rosie sitting out with the others, making something new out of
lace. I asked her what it was, and she went on and on in Venetian.
Of course, I had no idea what she said. I thought, "She's
either making a gift for her granddaughter's First Holy Communion, or a
fish." It turned out that she was making a gondolier rowing a gondola
for ME!!! I am looking at it right now, and if I had a camera (which I
promise I will buy), I'd take a photo of it and show you. It's one most
precious gifts I've ever received.
The very first article I wrote for the
International Herald Tribune's Italy Daily
was about this Miracle Madonna of Corte Sarasina -- in fact, it's how I
got the job. I did a quick search to see if there are any images of the
Miracle Madonna available, and it turns out that there are! All the
images you see here (except the clothesline) are from a blog by a woman
named Anne called, "Churches in Venice," and can be found at:
http://www.slowtrav.com/blog/annienc/2008/01/corte_de_casarasina_shrine.html (That link no longer works.)
Apparently
Anne wants to know what's up with this shrine, too. Since I own all my
copyrights, I'll post what I wrote (with a little editing) back on
Friday, January 12, 2001. (But I did NOT write that headline:) So, let's
take a little trip into the past...
Cocktails and Prayers Answered in Venice
The Castello Neighborhood Holds a Mystical Madonna, a Mystifying Accent and a Proud, Venetian Aperitif
By Cat Bauer
Tucked away in a quiet section of Venice, there is a Byzantine Madonna who
answers prayers, or so the story goes. She's been gazing down on Corte
de Cà Sarasina for centuries, dating back to the beginning of the 1600s.
Corte
Sarasina is off Via Garibaldi in the Castello district of Venice. It's
one of the few remaining neighborhoods where Venetians outnumber the
tourists.
Every morning, locals scramble to buy fresh fruit and
vegetables from a boat docked in the canal at Fondamenta Sant'Anna, and
haggle over fish at the little market at the entrance to the Public
Gardens.
Back in 1807, Via Garibaldi was transformed into a
rio terra,
a canal that was filled in and turned into a street, by Napoleon's
invading forces. On the right-hand corner, at No. 1643, there is an
inscription commemorating the home of the famous navigator, Giovanni
Caboto, otherwise known as John Cabot. This where Via Garibaldi -- and a
whole other Venice -- begins.
Castello is a working-class
community, originally inhabited by fisherman, shipbuilders, and
lace-makers. Laundry flaps across the
calli and the canals. Men gather around newsstands. Mothers promenade with their babies, stopping to chat and coo.
A
fun place to eat on this colorful boulevard is Trattoria Giorgione, on
the right side of the street. Lucio Bisutto serenades his customers with
Venetian folk songs while his wife, Ivana, cooks some of the best fish,
risotto, and
vongole in town. A
little further down on the left is Bar Mio where patrons sit outside
and have a spritz, a drink rarely ordered outside Venice. It's usually
sipped during lunch or after work at around 7 P.M., but is available
anytime, especially for those on vacation.
There are at least three kinds: "
spritz con Select," "
spritz con Aperol" or "
spritz con bitter." The
spritz con bitter consists of white wine, Campari and a "spritz" of soda water. Those who prefer a sweeter drink ask for Aperol. A
spritz con Select
(the accent lies on the first syllable) is sweeter still. Any
self-respecting spritz arrives accompanied by a cube or two of ice, an
olive, and a lemon or orange peel, together with a little bowl of chips
or nuts.
Stumbling on the scene, Corte Sarasina would seem
inhabited mostly by elderly women who spend warmer afternoons sitting
outside on folding chairs, chatting and stitching lace. They speak
Venetian with a thick Castello accent, the same undulating rhythm as the
water lapping in the lagoon. "Rosie" is the ringleader, and she is in
charge of the wish-granting Madonna, tending to the fresh and artificial
flowers around it and straightening the altar.
A wood painting protected by a sheet of glass, the Madonna of Corte Sarasina greets the faithful from inside a
grande sacello,
a small brick and plaster structure with a typical Venetian red tile
roof. On her head is a crown imbedded with imitation gemstones. A strand
of white beads dangles around her face. She is surrounded by statues of
Jesus and various saints, the plaster type found in a mortuary store.
Every
morning, Rosie shuffles out of her apartment a few doors away and
unlocks the shrine. The Madonna is open all day from 8 A.M. to 7P.M.,
seven days a week, although at lunch time the Madonna takes a nap like
most of the folks in Garibaldi. If you arrive during lunch time,
visitors need only unhook the little chain that latches the double green
doors, swing them open, say a prayer, deposit their lire and close her
back up. There is a small wooden box mounted on the inside of the left-hand door
to make contributions. A suggested donation is 1,000 lire (one euro by
2008 standards:), which goes to purchasing fresh flowers and maintaining
the sanctuary.
No one knows who created this peculiar Madonna, but many believe it was the work of a
madonnaro,
or street artist from the early 1600s, and was a traditional way for
the living to remember the dead. To this day, she is very much a part of
the local community.
About a year ago, the locals took it upon
themselves to restore the shrine. Lino Scarpa, a friendly, wise fellow,
said the elderly women of Corte Sarasina begged him to do the
restoration. "I repainted the doors, the statues, added some color to
the lips, that sort of thing," he said.
Amazingly, many of the
locals say they haven't made the trip from the Castello district to
Piazza San Marco in years, even though it's only a 15 minute walk away.
"Everything a person needs is down here on Garibaldi," Mr. Scarpa said.
"Fish, vegetables, good places to eat, good bars, good people. The
gardens are here, the lagoon is here. The sea is a quick boat trip
away."
***
So,
there you have it. It's the work of a street artist, maintained by the
locals. Sometimes I've wondered whether one of the major restoration
groups around town should restore her, but she might lose some of her
magic.
Many
times aspiring writers ask me for advice. I'll tell you my secret --
all you have to do become a published author is give the Miracle Madonna
of Corte Sarasina one euro, and you're on your way.
Ciao from Venice,
Cat Bauer
Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog