Venice, 1730

In the Piazzetta, the re-paving was well advanced. Two little dogs were chasing each other and a cluster of children was clamouring around the little man who sold fritters and sweet biscuits from a pushcart. Under the bell tower, an old woman sitting in a chair and hunched over a rickety makeshift counter, her blue eyes peering from deep sockets, smiled repulsively as she read a young bride’s palm. Nearby, a beggar, pulling his threadbare cloak around him, sat on the ground, leaning into a corner of the loggetta, trying to capture a little warmth from the dull sunlight. Occasionally, here and there, foreign voices—of Armenians, Greeks, Levantines—mingled with the general Venetian chatter. A knot of men in ash grey tabarro cloaks—greengrocers or sausage sellers, probably—stood chatting with two perfume and ointment salesmen at a kiosk under a yellowing awning at the base of the bell tower.
The day would soon be on the decline. The damp cold was already closing in. A few women passed with baskets over their arms, their braided hair neatly pinned on their heads under black kerchiefs tied under their chins. Their dress was humble, skirts either yellow or salmon coloured, and they each wore a little shawl around their shoulders that they held tightly closed in front of their chests. The old woman who sold essences was on her way home with her basket.
The little dog that had been dashing around the children at the fritter cart ran playfully over to the Porta della Carta, wagging his tail, trying to attract the attention of the two notaries who were drawing up the last documents of the day. He sniffed all around, lifted his leg and relieved himself.

From The Laws of Time, a novel by Andrea Perego

Street vendors, boatmen, dogs, ordinary people going about the paved or unpaved streets. Woven baskets, wicker chests, textiles, awnings and tabarro cloaks. Women at their windows, workmen, stone cutters, and gentlemen drinking coffee and chatting. Venice in 1730 was a living and energetic city. In fact, it was one of the liveliest in Europe. And this is how it is reflected back to us by the artists known as vedutisti—the view painters. First amongst them is Canaletto, of course, but he was not alone. There were also Cimaroli, Domenichini, Bellotto, Carlevarijs, Marieschi, Longhi, and the sublime Francesco Guardi.

 

 

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