Lynn wanted badly to visit La Fenice opera house, where we had stayed our last time in Venice but never actually entered the building. So armed with the trusty iPod, on Wednesday we ventured forth under gloomy skies and persistent mist.
Wonder of wonders, we found La Fenice without problem. This opera house dates back to 1792 but the current structure is only 20 years old. La Fenice is aptly named–it has burned down three times, the latest by arson in 1996. The only elements to survive the last fire were the exterior walls and the foyer (which actually survived all the fires) so the entire interior was recreated as it had been from the 19th century.
Although La Fenice is no Garnier Opera in Paris, it’s pretty spectacular in its own Italian way. And in its own Italian way, it is more historically important, as here is where all of Verdi’s works were first performed. La Fenice was also Maria Callas’s favorite venue, and one of the reception rooms showcases a number of her contracts and documents from her performances there.
The interior is a display of gold leaf and pastels decorating the 150 or so boxes that surround the orchestra and look out over the stage. The ceiling looks for all the world like a dome, but it is actually flat. The illusion of the dome is created by a brilliantly conceived gradation of paint colors moving toward a sunlit center where the huge chandelier hangs, itself recreated exactly as the original was in the last building.
Buoyed by our success in reaching La Fenice, Lynn then wanted to find the little restaurant that we had enjoyed so much the last time we were in Venice. Once again, her restaurant radar was unerring. We walked around the corner, and there was VinoVino, where we enjoyed a “light” lunch of spinach ravioli (Lynn) and meatballs with mashed potatoes that were obviously made from flakes (Tom). With a glass of wine and a beer, the tab came to 40 euros, nearly twice what we had been accustomed to spending on a similar lunch in Nice. And the waiter made a point of saying that the tip was not included, when the ticket clearly said it was, as is Italian custom. I didn’t bother to argue and left a few euros behind.
(Italian restaurants add a “coperto,” a cover charge of two or three euros per person on each bill. This has nothing to do with whether you get bread or not. And water is always purchased by the bottle, never the tap you get for free in France. Those charges generally add 6-8 euros to every bill, no matter what you order.)
Feeling emboldened by our navigation to La Fenice, we decided to keep pushing to San Marco to catch the Carnival scene at the source. Sort of like going straight to Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
Even in the mist, we immediately realized that Carnival in Venice is very different from what we know in New Orleans. Very, very different. Details in another post.
Regardless of the season, Piazza San Marco takes on an entirely different personality in the mist. This is why novels and movies are set here.
