 |
| A Rose for Venice - April 25, Feast of Saint Mark - View from the ground - Piazza San Marco Photo: Cat Bauer |
(Venice, Italy) There was a deluge on the morning of April 25, 2023, the Feast of Saint Mark, the day we celebrate Venice's patron saint. Italy is in the midst of a severe drought, so it would have been like a gift from the heavens -- just not on that day.
That day, at 12:30 PM, the Venetian artist Elena Tagliapietra and the Venetian author, Alberto Toso Fei were planning to recreate a Bocolo Umano or "Human Rose Blossom" in Piazza San Marco -- the same extravaganza a thousand citizens of Venice had magically manifested nine years ago, back on April 25, 2014.
That day, at 12:30 PM, the Venetian artist Elena Tagliapietra and the Venetian author, Alberto Toso Fei were planning to recreate a Bocolo Umano or "Human Rose Blossom" in Piazza San Marco -- the same extravaganza a thousand citizens of Venice had magically manifested nine years ago, back on April 25, 2014.
April 25 is a national holiday for all of Italy -- Liberation Day, to commemorate the end of the Fascist regime and Nazi occupation. But in Venice, long, long before there was a united Italy, it was always a day of celebration.
During the Festa del Bocolo, men have been giving a single rose to the women they love for more than a thousand years.
Behind that tradition is a wonderful -- and poignant -- Venetian legend...
During the Festa del Bocolo, men have been giving a single rose to the women they love for more than a thousand years.
Behind that tradition is a wonderful -- and poignant -- Venetian legend...
 |
| Human Rose Blossom April 25, 2014 |
On my way over to Piazza San Marco, I stopped by Rialto to see my friend, the mask-maker Sergio Boldrin, in his tiny shop at the foot of the Rialto Bridge. I was wearing a short red dress because it was the only red outfit I had.
I was soaked. I stood dripping in the doorway.
Sergio laughed: "What are you doing, Red One?" Sergio calls me "Red One" even when I'm not dressed in red because of the color of my hair. But today it seemed especially appropriate.
Me: "Remember when we made the human rose in Piazza San Marco back in 2014? This year we're doing it again."
Sergio peered out at the downpour. There were just a few hardy souls on the street. "How many people do you need for the rose?"
Me: "I think about a thousand."
Sergio: "You can always have a spritz." (If you've never been to Venice, a spritz is a traditional Venetian cocktail. It, too, is red.)
I was soaked. I stood dripping in the doorway.
Sergio laughed: "What are you doing, Red One?" Sergio calls me "Red One" even when I'm not dressed in red because of the color of my hair. But today it seemed especially appropriate.
Me: "Remember when we made the human rose in Piazza San Marco back in 2014? This year we're doing it again."
Sergio peered out at the downpour. There were just a few hardy souls on the street. "How many people do you need for the rose?"
Me: "I think about a thousand."
Sergio: "You can always have a spritz." (If you've never been to Venice, a spritz is a traditional Venetian cocktail. It, too, is red.)
 |
| Cat Bauer in red for Festa del Bocolo 2023, Venice |
Off I splashed. I was running late and the rain seemed determined to impede my progress.
When I finally made it to Piazza San Marco, there was nobody in the square. I ducked into an empty ATM inside the Procuratie Vecchie and checked the group's Facebook page to make sure it was still happening. "WE WILL ALSO DO IT IN THE RAIN!! THE COLORS WILL BE CREATED BY THE FREE UMBRELLAS."
I did not see a mass of red or green umbrellas anywhere in the piazza. I asked a police officer where everyone was. He wanted to practice his English and I wanted to practice my Italian. Together we figured out in each other's languages out that neither one of us had a clue.
Bewildered, I wandered through the crowd packed inside the Procuratie Vecchie, sheltering from the storm. I got about halfway through when I realized that most of the crowd was at a standstill, divided into about 20 groups clustered around a person holding a number.
Ah, ha! The human rose was crammed inside the Procuratie Vecchie! I forged towards Group 2, which was the last one to the end.
I greeted my comrades. They were young and old, male and female; people who lived in town and people who had sloshed in from the mainland, despite the weather. My name was checked off the list. I was handed a red umbrella. Yay!
Then I saw a familiar face, Alberto Toso Fei, walking along the crowd with a megaphone, telling the legend of the Festa del Bocolo. The story dates back to the 9th century, and goes something like this:
When I finally made it to Piazza San Marco, there was nobody in the square. I ducked into an empty ATM inside the Procuratie Vecchie and checked the group's Facebook page to make sure it was still happening. "WE WILL ALSO DO IT IN THE RAIN!! THE COLORS WILL BE CREATED BY THE FREE UMBRELLAS."
I did not see a mass of red or green umbrellas anywhere in the piazza. I asked a police officer where everyone was. He wanted to practice his English and I wanted to practice my Italian. Together we figured out in each other's languages out that neither one of us had a clue.
Bewildered, I wandered through the crowd packed inside the Procuratie Vecchie, sheltering from the storm. I got about halfway through when I realized that most of the crowd was at a standstill, divided into about 20 groups clustered around a person holding a number.
Ah, ha! The human rose was crammed inside the Procuratie Vecchie! I forged towards Group 2, which was the last one to the end.
I greeted my comrades. They were young and old, male and female; people who lived in town and people who had sloshed in from the mainland, despite the weather. My name was checked off the list. I was handed a red umbrella. Yay!
 |
| Alberto Toso Fei tells the story of the Bocolo |
Then I saw a familiar face, Alberto Toso Fei, walking along the crowd with a megaphone, telling the legend of the Festa del Bocolo. The story dates back to the 9th century, and goes something like this:
A noblewoman, Maria Partecipazio, called "Vulcana" because of her flaming red hair, and a troubadour, Tancredi, fell in love. But Maria was the daughter of the Doge, and marriage to a troubadour would never have her father's approval.
In order to overcome the social class differences, Tancredi went off to war to find glory and raise himself to the higher social level of his beloved.
Tancredi served as a valiant soldier under Charles the Great (Charlemagne) in the war against the Moors, but was mortally wounded. As he lay dying in a pool of blood by a bed of red roses, he plucked a rose for Maria Partecipazio and asked his comrade, Orlando, to take the blossom to his beloved Lady in Venice, stained with his blood.
Orlando kept his vow, and arrived in Venice the day before the Feast of Saint Mark. He gave the rose to Maria Partecipazio as the last message of love from the dying Tancredi.
The next morning, Maria Partecipazio herself was found dead, the red rose lying on her heart, finally joined with her beloved in the celestial world.
Since that time, Venetian lovers use the symbol of the red rose blossom to pledge their love.
Alberto Toso Fei & Ermelinda Damiano, City Council President
Photo: Cat Bauer
I don't remember where I found that version of the legend. I tried to fact-check it along with other versions of the story. As the writer and historian John Julian Norwich said, "One of the most infuriating aspects of early Venetian history is the regularity with which truth and legend pursue separate courses."
Agnello Participazio became Doge in 811 and died in 827. Charlemagne died in 814. So for this story to work, it would have had to taken place between 811 and January 28, 814. But the war against the Muslims, the Battle of Tours, took place about 80 years earlier in 732, and was won by Charles Martel, who was Charlemagne's grandfather.
I was curious to know which version of the story Alberto Toso Fei uses, but the scene was too hectic during the Festa del Bocolo to ask him.
Just before 12:30, the rain had lightened to a drizzle. We scrambled into Piazza San Marco to create the human rose as cameras from the Campanile and drones photographed us from above.
Right on time, Saint Mark worked his wonders. The rain stopped completely after about five minutes and the sun poked its head out.
I was surprised (but not really) at how many people had turned out in the tempest to celebrate the day! We shared a sense of joy and community as we chatted and bounced our red and green umbrellas to create a human rose. It was a beautiful moment and a moving realization of how deeply locals love Venice, no matter what challenges the gods -- and the tourists -- throw at us.
Do you really think that Saint Mark would let some rain spoil his special day? Whether the story of the rose blossom is actually true, it is a bittersweet love story dating back over 1,200 years and a remarkable element of Venetian culture. The belief in the story is felt so deeply by the locals that a thousand people will splash into Piazza San Marco to manifest the Festa del Bocolo in human form.
That is reality.
Venice sends a message of love to the world, embedded in tradition.
 |
| Una Rosa per Venezia - A Rose for Venice 2023 - Photo: Venezia Serenissima |
 |
| Elena Tagliapietra & Alberto Toso Fei |
Ciao from Venezia,
Cat Bauer
Venetian Cat - The Venice Blog
