Putting an Oar in the Oldest Boys’ Club around – Gondoliering in Venice

By:  Paula Dupont

It’s 2011.  Women can:  race cars, go to the moon, hold high political office, work on oil rigs, be fire chiefs, and go to war.  But they can’t row a gondola in Venice? 

First a bit about gondolas.  They’re heavy – about 1,300 pounds, and long – about 36 ft.  They’re always made of wood, which might include fir, cherry chestnut, elm, or linden and can take up to 2 years to build.  If you’ve ever wondered why the gondolier – the fellow rowing the boat with the striped shirt and jaunty hat– doesn’t have to switch his oar from side to side it’s because the gondolas are built  asymmetrically.  The left side is a little bit larger than the right, so it floats leaning slightly to one side.  Their elongated shape with a flat keel makes them ideal to glide through the silty canals without getting stuck.  All this design ensures that maneuvering them is manageable … perhaps even by a woman?

Gondolas have sailed the lagoon for nearly 1000 years, and have been used to conduct business – legal and illegal, and make romance.  At one time, many of the gondolas featured a “felze,” which was a little compartment perfect for sharing a smooch – or knifing a foe.  What more ideal setting to announce your love – or poison the villain – than the moonlit backwaters of Venice?

Back to the real issue:  it’s a boys club that you either need to be born into, or be very patient in waiting to be admitted.  And women need not apply!  Traditionally, the 425 official gondoliering licenses are passed down from generation to generation within Venetian families – but only to the men in the family, of course.  A widow can hire a substitute to take her husband’s license for up to two years.  Similar to the bodies governing the Murano glass industry (but more intense) the Gondolier’s Guild governs everything about the black boats:  how many, who, what they wear, and how they’re decorated.  Even the stripes on gondoliers’ shirts must be of a certain style and size. Recently the Guild issued a stern warning reminding gondoliers that this is Venice – not Vegas, baby, – and to can the glitz!

Within the last ten years or so, the paddling waters have been leveled – so to speak – with the formalization of a gondolier school.  Of course most of those who have entered have been men, because, according to school officials, they’re the only ones who have applied.  The handful of women who’ve dared to attempt have failed, supposedly because it’s just too hard for a girl!  Upon completion, the student earns the right to an apprenticeship, after which he spends a year working as a substitute.  Finally, the fledgling gondolier can take the family’s license, or wait for another license to open up for purchase.  The list of gondoliers reads like the roster at an Ivy league school – all “son of” and brother of”.  Nepotism is king, which makes it tough on an outsider – let alone a woman.

Finally just a year or so ago, Georgia Boscolo decided to swim against the tide.  The 24-yr old daughter of a long-time gondolier (at least she had a connection) applied to school, completed the work, and passed – requiring the coining of a new term “gondoliera”!  She became such an overnight sensation and attracted so much attention – negative and positive -- that the guild threatened to revoke her apprenticeship.  Even her own father is quoted as saying that although he’s proud of her, gondoliering is not a job for a woman!  But for this young lady, who grew up on the water, it’s a dream come true.

It’s progress.  Ten years ago it was female wait-staff in St. Mark’s Square;  today it’s a “gondolier.”  Who knows what progress could be next … women in the Catholic church?

Brought to you by Direct From Venice an importer of beautiful Murano glass jewelry.  Come visit our online store at Direct From Venice, and enjoy our beautiful offerings and one of a kind pieces available in our Private Collection.

Gelato - Best Enjoyed Anywhere!!!

By:  Paula Dupont

It’s hot, sticky, and humid in the Midwest – after a long rainy June – so it’s the perfect time to enjoy an ice cream cone or two.  There’s no denying the pleasure of the cool and creamy melt on your tongue – no matter how you prefer your frozen treat:  cone, cup, shake, malt.  Aah …. The list is endless.

                So as I sat on the beach basking in the sun and enjoying a scoop of Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby (on any other day it might have been Edy’s snickers, Starbucks java chip, Sherman’s Marion County Blackberry, etc.)-- working quickly before the steamy rays reduced the delicious stuff to a puddle in my lap – I thought about whether the setting made the ice cream … or vice versa.  Could really average ice cream be made spectacular in a great setting?  And, would an awful setting reduce fantastic ice cream to barely passable?  And really, is it possible for any setting that involves ice cream to be bad?  See … the sun finally comes out, and the brain melts along with the ice cream.

                Of course we began reminiscing about gelato-ing our way through Europe, especially Italy, but France, Austria, and Germany weren’t derelict in this department either.  The rules don’t apply while travelling, and I’ve always believed in the nutritional (hey, it’s dairy) and curative powers of ice cream anyway.  Who hasn’t felt the magic offered by a few spoonfuls after a long day on the train or witnessed the resolution of tears after a toddler’s crash on the cobblestoned street with the proffering of an ice cream cone?

                I did a little research to try to figure out why our gelato breaks were always so special – aside from the spectacular settings.  I learned that gelato is actually “better” for you than ice cream – as in lower fat;  it’s lighter due to the churning process; and of course, it’s not frozen solid – which makes it delectably easy to eat.  None of that really matters because it’s just so darned good anyway.

        Not unlike a case of Murano glass beads, the Italian gelateria features every color under the rainbow.  From the deepest browns of the cioccolato fondente – for dark chocolate lovers only-- to the delicate lemon shade of limone, gelato offers a flavor-infused artist’s palette of pleasure.  They do make the standards:  vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and chocolate chip.  But they’re so much better than ours!  And the truly Italian flavors – done well only by them – are amazing:  bacio, gianduia, pistacchio, and zabaglione.  Maybe it’s the way the Italian names roll off the tongue, or maybe it’s the creamy delicacy, or perhaps even the fact that unlike here, servers are happy to give you a cone with several flavors gently positioned side-by-side.  Whatever the case, there’s no pleasure quite like enjoying a gelato by the sea in Capri, on the steps of the fountain in Rome, under an awning in the rain in Murano, on a gondola in Venice, on a bridge in Florence, for breakfast, after lunch, or with espresso.  So … setting or gelato?  In Italy, you don’t have to choose – so we’ll never really know.

Come visit our online store at Direct From Venice, and enjoy our beautiful offerings and one of a kind pieces available in our Private Collection.