San Marco

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This past week we took a tour of the interior of the Basilica San Marco, that famous building Henry James called, "the strange old church of Saint Mark," or more evocatively in Twain's words, "a vast and warty bug taking a meditative walk." It is true that San Marco surprised me with its Byzantine character, and that it doesn't seem to match the campanile, nor the other buildings around it. No matter how many times you see a picture or a photograph, nothing surprises like the real thing. To whit: my visit, some dozen years ago, to the Sistine Chapel. "He wasn't really a painter," was the first thought, echoing the words of an art history teacher. The other thought was that the whole thing was smaller than I thought. I then followed up with several uncharitable thoughts about the impossibility of rendering God in human terms.
But back to San Marco. Of course it is Byzantine, and it is so inside and out. On the inside, where no photography is allowed, the walls and ceilings of its five domes (set up in the shape of a cross) are filled with the most elaborate of mosaics, most lavishly embellished with gold leaf, so that the effect is a shimmering spectacle, evocative, perhaps, of what heaven might be. Ari kept running his hands over the walls, chanting, "I'm touching gold, I'm touching gold." I particularly loved the floor mosaics, and immediately began to wonder how I could copy the effect in my own home. There was a series of renderings of animals--peacocks, roosters and other birds, lions, fish, pigs. The colors were black/dark gray, red, pale yellow, white. I loved the color combinations. I kept saying to the boys, " I want you to do this in our house" and they rolled their eyes at me. In fact, they roll their eyes a lot these days, but not when Professora Chiari, our art history teacher, led us down into the crypt, while all the tourists were left outside the ropes. It seems our esteemed Prof. is a native Venetian and respected art historian and she gets her groups in everywhere. She simply greeted the security guard, had a word with the padre and whisked us away downstairs, where the water rushes in sometimes, and private masses are held. A bit claustrophobic, but interesting.
We learned a bit about the dates of a number of the mosaics and what was being depicted, and how (all while the children squirmed) it was done. The highlight for the squirmers was going up the narrow staircase to the roof, where most of these pictures were taken. There it was great sport to wave down at the tourist hordes and get a wave back.
It seems to me that I am missing a photo of the outside. But then we've all seen it, haven't we?

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Comments

[Carrie]

San Marco
YAY! I'm glad you went in, awesome to have a local as expert and guide, too. I don't think anything can prepare one for the shimmer of those mosaics, that massive space, those millions of glittering tesserae. Pictures, words, it all falls short. But the impression remains. I want to go back!

[anonymous]

It all sounds very sober. --N

[Donna]

What a grand adventure! It's great to be able to share it with you via your writings. And the pictures of the boys are something you will treasure always, whether the background pics have been done before or not. Remember, even though others have had a similar experience and have written about it perhaps more elegantly than you imagine you can, this time it is your experience. Reading about it is nothing like actually being there...