In Venetian art

When walking along the streets in the city of Venice, one can encounter mysterious sculptures which were carved in the stone or in marble many centuries ago.

Baroque mask along Fondamenta Trapolin, Venice

Most of them are monstrous and their significance is often hard to grasp as the cultural context within which they were created has changed. From the byzantine age till the baroque, but also in liberty style sculpture, the presence of fantastic creatures has been a constant leitmotif, starting with winged lions, dragons and snakes.

Winged lions in Venice sculpture

The winged lion is the symbol of Venice. In his book, Alberto Rizzi has counted 5000 statues of winged lions, including also the ones outside Venice. Winged lions can be found in different versions. Variations include the lion’s positions, keeping open or closed books under the paw, holding a sword —which cannot be that easy for a feline paw to do— or the lion called “in moeca”, which in Venice is the way one addresses the soft shell crab when losing the shell. That a winged lion could look like a crab is quite something, not to mention when its face acquires  human features or, in the intent to scare you, the lion sticks its tongue out.

Lion’s face, Ca’ Rezzonico, Venice, 17th century

My favorite ones are the bronze statues looking like chickens at the base of the flag posts in front of St Mark’s Basilica in St Mark’s square.

Bronze lion, St Mark’s square, Venice, early 16th century

One cannot say they are mysterious, although still today there are misinterpretations, especially regarding the book under the lion’s paw. Some still say the book is the gospel Mark wrote —it is not—, some say that when the book is closed it was because it was made in times of wars —no, that is not the reason why the book is sometimes closed.

Dragons, snakes, tortoises and Ridley Scott

Not so frequently as the winged lions, but yet very much represented in the world of mysterious sculptures in Venice, snakes and dragons play a major role, too. They are connected to several saints. St Theodore, St George, St Donato, St Margaret: they all killed dragons. Moreover, dragons are connected to deadly swamps, they seem to be driven by a devilish nature, they spit fire —a true obsession in Venetian sculpture with the reassuring message that these monsters are losers.

Dragon in Castello, Venice

St Margaret and her fight against the dragon

My favorite dragon decorates the side of the church of St Margaret. Maybe because it looks as if it had been rolled as a snail, or somebody had twisted it in a knot, I feel its mysterious nature is kind of lame and it is not too scary. Just a little. 

Dragon in hexagonal relief, bottom of the bell tower of St Margaret’s church in Campo Santa Margherita, Venice, 17th century

Next door, St Margaret stands on the dragon she has just slaughtered. 

St Margaret and the dragon in Campo Santa Margherita, Venice

According to a legend, while Margaret was in prison because of her being Christian, a dragon appeared in her cell and swallowed her in one gulp. But, a clever lady, Margaret did not lose hope and from within the belly of the dragon she used the cross to tear it apart and jump out victoriously.

Dragon’s head by the bell tower of St Margaret’s church in Campo Santa Margherita, Venice, 17th century

Kind of a reverse of that unforgettable Alien’s Chestburster sequence by Ridley Scott when it is the monster that comes out from the belly, all dirty with tomato sauce… or was it blood?

Tortoises can be scary

On the front of the church of St Margaret we see more mysterious sculptures. In her book about fantastic creatures, Francesca Rachel Valle recognizes here the biblical monster of a leviathan and, nearby, the piton snake enveloping the city of Delphi and a large head of a tortoise.

Baroque representation of piton snake, tortoise and dragon by the entrance of St Margaret’s church in Campo Santa Margherita, Venice, 17th century

The tortoise was an allegory of creatures living in the underworld, connected to darkness and therefore devilish. 

Head of tortoise emerging from St Margaret’s church in Campo Santa Margherita, Venice, 17th century

Again, don’t you think the head of Ridley Scott’s alien has that semblance of a tortoise, too?

Chestburster sequence in Ridley Scott’s Alien (from the internet)

Salamanders in the flames in Venice

When it comes to cryptic images, however, the salamander is one of the most mysterious sculptures in the streets of Venice for sure. There are three representations you can admire in Venice and the last one was by chance discovered inside Grimani Palace State Museum. The salamander carved at the back of a fireplace in Palazzo Grimani was discovered a few years ago during a restoration. The fact that it lay hidden behind a wall was already turning it into a mystery. When was it made? Why? Why hidden…? 

Fireplace with salamander in Grimani Palace, Venice, 16th century

Detail of salamander in Grimani Palace, Venice, 16th century

Symbol of resurrection, the salamander was also present in the coat of arms of Francis I of Valois, king of France. The king had likely chosen the salamander to represent his strength, resisting against his enemies in the flames of fire. Possibly also to feel protected. 

But why would the powerful Grimani family in Venice, known to be close to heterodox Christian positions (almost heretical), place a salamander in their home? And the other two, by Palazzo Bollani and in Salizzada San Lio, what do they represent? Francis I is the one who also made alliances with the sultan Suleiman the Magnificent and with the (protestant) League of Smalcalda. Not bad, don’t you think for such a “monster” to be displayed in Venice (and concealed).

Salamander in Venice, Castello

Salamander in Venice, Castello

Scary mysterious sculptures on a church façade in Venice

The context where scary statues are placed matters also because scaring monsters dispel evil spirits, i.e. they scare more monsters —check the monstrous statues at the entrance of bell towers such as in Campo San Polo or in Campo Santa Maria Formosa as examples. 

Mysterious sculptures at the entrance of Venetian bell towers (Ruskin’s disapproval)

Mask, Campo Santa Maria Formosa, Venice, late 17th century

By the way, the latter was so criticized by John Ruskin: 

… the head that is carved on the base of the tower, still dedicated to St. Mary the Beautiful (…) —huge, inhuman, and monstrous,—leering in bestial degradation, too foul to be either pictured or described, or to be beheld for more than an instant: yet let it be endured for that instant; for in that head is embodied the type of the evil spirit to which Venice was abandoned in the fourth period of her decline; and it is well that we should see and feel the full horror of it on this spot, and know what pestilence it was that came and breathed upon her beauty, until it melted away like the white cloud from the ancient field of Santa Maria Formosa.

The Derelitti church and Longhena: the beauty and the beast

But what about if the goal of such mysterious sculptures in the streets of Venice were to create curiosity and even steer generosity? This is the case of the façade of the church of Santa Maria dei Derelitti and its orphanage institution, the Ospedaletto. Designed by Baldassarre Longhena, the façade of the church is in fact a great example to see that the beast and the beauty are not always on opposite sides. 

Detail from Santa Maria dei Derelitti church, Venice, 17th century

Detail from Santa Maria dei Derelitti church, Venice, 17th century

In the shell above the portal, you see the patron, Bartolomeo Carnioni. Carnioni was a wealthy man, married but with no children. Carnioni donated lots of money for a new façade and for a “courtyard for the girls of the orphanage so that they could breathe fresh air”. 

The new façade by Longhena seems to precipitate upon you while you walk along the narrow street. Who knows, just like a major billboard, those scary, mysterious faces attracted your attention and you would wonder what it was like inside… It does not look like a church façade, does it? Well, you would enter and, magic!, the celestial voices of the choir of the orphan ladies would hook you up. And maybe you would decide to leave some offerings, helping those unlucky children.

by Luisella Romeo
registered tourist guide in Venice, Italy
www.seevenice.it

Cover image
Santa Maria dei Derelitti church, Venice, 17th century
Bibliography
Francesca Rachel Valle, Venezia Creature fantastiche e dove trovarle, Press & Archeos, 2023.
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