THE CANALE DI S. MARCO AND S. GIORGIO MAGGIORE
Busy water--The lantern concerts--Venice and modern inventions--Fireworks in perfection--S. Giorgio Maggiore--Palladian architecture--Two Tintorettos--The Life of S. Benedict--Realistic wood-carving--A Giudecca garden--The Redentore--A bridge of boats--A regatta--The view from the Giudecca--House-hunting in Venice.
Strictly speaking, the Grand Canal and the Canal of the Guidecca unite in the lagoon; but the stretch of water between the Molo and S. Giorgio is called the Canale di San Marco. It is the busiest water of all. Every little steamer crosses it; motor-boats here are always at full speed; most of the gondolas which are hired start from here; the great mercantile boats cross it on their way in and out of harbours; and the daily invaders from Trieste disembark and embark again in the very middle. Hence it is always a scene of gay and sparkling movement and always more like a Guardi than any other spot in Venice.
It is just off the Custom House point, at night, that in the summer the concert barges are moored, each with its little party of musicians, its cluster of Venetian lanterns, arranged rather like paper travesties of the golden balls over S. Mark's domes, and its crowded circle of gondolas, each like a dark private box for two. Now what more can honeymooners ask? For it is chiefly for honeymooners that this is done, since Venetians do not spend money to sit in stationary boats. These concerts are popular, but they are too self-conscious. Moreover, the songs are from all countries, even America; whereas purely Venetian, or at any rate Italian, operatic music should, I think, be given. The stray snatches of song which one hears at night from the hotel window; gondoliers trolling out folk choruses; the notes of a distant mandolin, brought down on the water--these make the true music of Venice.
But just as the motor-launch has invaded the lagoon, so has other machinery forced its way into this city--peculiarly the one place in the world which ought to have been meticulously safeguarded against every mechanical invention. When I was living near S. Sebastiano, on my way home at night the gondolier used to take me up the Grand Canal as far as the Foscari lantern and then to the left. In time we came to the campo of S. Pantaleone, where, outside a café, a little group was always seated, over its wine and beer, listening raptly to the music of--what? A gramophone. This means that while the motor is ousting the gondolier, the Venetian minstrel is also under death sentence.
