Farewell to the Flesh

Venice, Italy - We arrived in Venice just in time to catch the last few days of Carnevale, the pre-Lenten festival that culminates in martedi grasso, or Fat Tuesday. This is the Venetian version of Mardi Gras, but it is a far cry from that jazz-infused, body-baring celebration in New Orleans. And I can state from experience that it is much more covered-up and less spontaneous than that Brazilian Carnaval (which I experienced last year -- see my photos here).

All of these festivals foretell the onset of Lent, the 40 days of fasting and prayer that preced Easter in the Catholic calendar. As such, the carnival is known for drinking, dancing and other indulgences that should be sworn off in the following days. Historically, crowd-pleasing activities ranged from operatic performances to bull-baiting and firing dogs from cannons. In Victorian Venice, the highlight was the masquerade ball. 

When Napoleon conquered Venice in 1797, he put an immediate end to the festivities associated with Il Carnevale. Later rulers like Mussolini ensured that the debauched practice remained dead. It was only in 1979 that the festival was revived.

The Venetians have picked up just where they left off two hundred years ago (minus the live animals flying from cannons). Revelers don the regalia of their Victorian forebears, as opposed to the teeny-weeny bikinis that yo might see in Brazil, for example. Most of the masks are stock characters from comedia dell'arte, the theatrical comedy of 16th and 17th-century Italy. Revelers put on their most ostentatious, over-the-top outfits, parade for pictures on Piazza San Marco, then proceed to private parties and masquerade balls.

By contrast, in Brazil, the focus of Carnaval is the bloquo, or block parties - locally organized celebrations with friends, family or co-workers. In New Orleans, the highlight of Mardi Gras is the parades, where participant floats are built by social clubs and other local organizations. The Venetian Carnevale has yet to develop this grassroots momentum. (Indeed, the fanciest costumes seemed to be worn by British and French enthusiasts, not by locals.)

But it won't be long. Stages were set up in streets and squares all around Venice, and young people came out to celebrate in droves (staying out long after their better-dressed counterparts had moved on to fancy balls). The city took on the atmosphere of Halloween, with the baroque element supplemented by oversized animals, super heroes and cartoon characters, as well as witches, ghosts and goblins.

I opted for one of the traditional masks, civetta, the flirtatious, cat-like character from comedia dell'arte. The little shop was crammed with papier mache designs, all of them handmade and hand-painted by a mother-daughter team. "People rarely tell the truth," said a sign posted in the shop "unless they are wearing a mask."