Masks and Music

The scene in San Marco

This week my attention has been taken up with two very different Italian traditions.  One is famous the world over and the other I had no idea of until I came to Italy and both have left me somewhat bemused.  It’s well known that I’m a bit of a Venitophile and there’s not much I don’t like about Venice but when it comes to Carnevale I’m on the side of the neigh sayers.  I’m not sure why but the idea of Carnevale has always left me cold.  As I’ve found myself in the vicinity of Venice for this year’s festival I thought I’d give it a go and see if it was just mere snobbery that had me turning my nose up.   Most of the sources I have read attribute the origins of the Venetian Carnevale to 1162 and a military victory over the Patriarch of Aquileia.  The Patriarch was forced to send an annual tribute of livestock to Venice that was slaughtered in San Marco on Shrove Thursday.  As for masks their history seems to begin in the thirteenth century when men used to use the anonymity of masks to throw eggs at ladies.  I’m not sure why Venice took to mask wearing but the practice had a life outside of Carnevale with many histories recording mask wearing as a day to day occurrence.  It was certainly widespread enough for the authorities to legislate their use.  One theory to the masks suggests that in a society as codified as Venice wearing masks allowed people to interact with those outside of their social class – who knows?  After the fall of the Venetian republic Carnevale fell out of favour until the 70s when it was revived.  

   

Playing dress up

Carnevale today covers the ten days or so prior to Shrove Tuesday or as its known here Martedi Grasso (translated means fat Tuesday and from which we get Mardi gras.)  While the city is full of cultural events commemorating the history of Carnevale.  Piazza San Marco sprouts a big stage which hosts cultural entertainment (if you call the birdie song culture – and yes I did say the birdie song,) grand old buildings host musical events and then of course there are the balls.  But the main aim of Carnevale seems to be walking around with a mask.  Last night (the Saturday before Martedi grasso) was the big night and seeing as I had things to do in Venice I stuck around and had a look. 

The decadence of Cafe Florian

For anyone with a romantic idea of wondering down a dark Venetian calle only to find a mysterious masked stranger coming out of the shadows I fear you will be disappointed.  Last night Venice was rammed – hell I wondered how the city didn’t just sink into the lagoon under the weight of people.  Everywhere you looked there were people, people in masks.  There’s no denying the power of a mask, they are other worldly things.  Put on a mask and people walk differently and have the confidence to look a stranger in the eye.  Can you imagine being surrounded by hundreds of people in masks?  Well this is one of my problems, to pull off a mask you need to go the whole nine yards.  The drama of an ornate gilded mask is lessened when accessorised with the latest in sports casual wear.  There were people who did go all out with the dressing up and cafe Florian was full of them, having paid who knows how much for a ticket.  As I watched the spectacle of wealthy people dressing up and playacting seventeenth century Venice while the crowds gazed at them through the window I wondered if it was always thus.  Some things never change I suppose.  The locals seemed to have eschewed the mask and use the night as a big dress up party.  They, I’m pleased to say did put in an effort; endearingly their costumes were homemade and had a character and humour so lacking in San Marco.  On my journey through the city I came across; Alex and the droogs, various muppets and the ghostbusters (complete to ectopacks that looked a lot like vacuum cleaners.)  Of course the night was a big piss up and the streets and bars where full of rapidly inebriating people.  This inebriation has to be the reason why people were dancing to the dj tunes at the rialto which is where I gave up – look if you’re going to have this party and you’re going to hire a dj why hire one who thinks it’s alright to play cotton eye Joe?  Why? Where on this planet is that ok? 

The crowds outside waiting to gawp

Having had enough of the reverie I turned back to the little bar run by my friends F and H where you wouldn’t know it was Carnevale.   After couple of hours chatting it was back on the packed train, home to Treviso and the other great festival that was coming to a climax.   

            

For the majority of this week the Sanremo music festival has been in full swing.  Many countries have a popular music institution, the Christmas Number one in the UK or the Triple J hot 100 in Australia well Italy has Sanremo.  For the uninitiated, imagine the Eurovision song contest held over five days, consisting of entrants from one country and without the hours of voting.  Personally I find the Eurovision voting the most enthralling part of the competition and have often said that it is the best indicator of the current state of European relations.   Sanremo is Italy’s premier music competition and many of the names in the Italian charts and on the X factor judging panel are past winners.  My Italian is good enough to understand the content of most of the songs and it has been a predictable swamp of emotion sung by people who use vocal theatrics to cover the fact they’ve never experienced the emotions they’re singing about.  Talking to Italians I am unable to decide if the competition is taken seriously or is looked at with the same sense of bemusement that the Brits view Eurovision but I do remember when I first arrived being told by more than one Italian that the nation doesn’t take Eurovision seriously because they have Sanremo – but I thought surely no one takes Eurovision seriously?  It’s a curious experience watching Sanremo.  Not that I need any more evidence that Italian television is bad but the main talking point of this year’s festival was whether one of the presenters was wearing knickers  – I never thought it would be possible to actually feel your life ebbing away but Sanremo well done.