Gondoliers Are Changing

Story 1: Multiple locations

This week’s topic was inspired by an article in the New York Times titled, “Oh, How Romantic (Until the Pirate Attack).” It was written by Liam Daniel Pierce, who comes, he says, “from what may be the premier Irish-American gondolier family in the world.” That does not mean, however, that he aspired to this occupation. He graduated from Brown University a year ago, lost an internship through budget cuts, and in these tough economic times, tried his hand at nine different jobs, before returning to one of the odder entries on his résumé: rowing a 37-foot-long Venetian boat while singing “O Sole Mio.”

Anyone who knows anything about the gondoliers of Venice knows it is a tightly knit guild with 900 years of tradition that has mostly been passed from father to son, generation to generation. This year for the first time, a woman (daughter of a gondolier; see next story) was admitted into what has always been a fraternity, and she has faced rough waters.

That means Mr. Pierce, as an Irish-American, did not gain his experience in Italy. You may be surprised to know, however, that gondola rides are available in San Diego and Oakland, California, Las Vegas, and New York, and perhaps other locations as well. Mr. Pierce and two of his brothers “have rowed gondolas on Lake Merritt in downtown Oakland, California, on and off for about 10 years.” They learned the skills from “a man named Angelino who insisted on drinking wine while training,” and who is “super-authentic and super-romantic.”

Mr. Pierce writes, “The Central Park gondola operation, run through the Boathouse restaurant, has been the province for 15 years of a man named Andrés, who worked seven days a week from May to October. It was a coincidence that he was looking for help – his painting career had started to take off – when I was looking for work. I was honored to be the first person in Andrés’s tenure allowed to row New York’s 45-year-old gondola, affectionately called ‘The Dry Martini.’”

Mr. Pierce’s background probably made him the most qualified applicant for the job, but he writes, “Yet little could have prepared me for the immensity and bizarreness of love, New York style.” He estimated that he had led 400 cruises in his first three months, of which at least 40 included a marriage proposal between the passengers. He wrote, “Anniversaries, first dates, birthdays: no problem. But proposals are nerve-racking. What do I do if she says no? Make someone swim? Thankfully, I have not yet witnessed such a crushing rejection. But I certainly do not count each ‘yes’ as a success.”

A few are. Mr. Pierce describes one on a “Tuesday night in July that coincided with the New York Philharmonic’s concert in the park. Beethoven was filtering through the Ramble, and shortly after the night’s young hero got down on one knee beneath the Bow Bridge, fireworks exploded over the lake. The timing was not planned, but as his new fiancée was bawling out, ‘This is too perfect!’ I could not help but feel that this couple was meant to be.”

This is how he describes another proposal for which he does not see such a happy ending: “On the other end of the spectrum was the Casanova who showed up 15 minutes late to his own proposal. Halfway through the 30-minute, $30 cruise, he asked, ‘Hey, how long is this thing, anyway?’ Incredulous to learn that it was about time to head back, he blurted: ‘Ah, forget it! Uh, will you marry me?’ Then, while his bride-to-be called her mother with the news, Mr. Romantic turned and asked, ‘Hey, boss, know any cheap restaurants around here?’”

As for the pirate attack, it was one in name only – an unexpected boarding of the gondola by the pop band Chester French while they were filming a music video. Fortunately, Mr. Pierce’s passengers, whom he describes as “a lovely South African couple,” were gracious about the interruption. (You can see the event on YouTube under the title, “Chester French Postpones My Marriage Proposal.”)

As a gondolier, Mr. Pierce has had to fend off a few proposals of his own, although he admits that some are good for his ego. He has had a wide assortment of passengers, including a pair of nerdy pre-teens who “proceeded to make out for the entire ride, glasses bumping, ignoring slack-jawed stares from other boats.” He has had people who want to jump in and swim, solo cruisers, an opera singer in tears (not apparently because she was so moved by his rendering of “O Solo Mio”), and he has been “assigned gondola baby-sitting duties.” He has had “a male client with a different date every Tuesday,” and “a female client with a different date every other Thursday.” You can read more about his passengers (and see a VIDEO of him singing).

After three months, he writes, “I have come to think of the gondola as a private Manhattan – longer than it is wide and surrounded by water, ferrying cross-sections of the city in perfect 30-minute intervals.”

Story 2: Now a female gondolier

But if an Irish-American was the impetus for this topic, I also became intrigued by the woman who fought tradition to become the first gondoliera in Venice. According to a widely publicized story, “Giorgia Boscolo dreamed of following in her father's gondola wake since girlhood. All she had to do was overcome nine centuries of taboos.” One of four daughters of Dante Boscolo, as a child she begged her father endlessly to let her ride with him in his gondola, and to give her a turn with the remoremo, (oar).

Ms. Boscolo recalls that her father indulged her to a point. "My father only let me row when it was bad weather," she said with a laugh.

His retort was swift: "That's how you learn."

Now, according to the article, the 23-year-old mother of two has passed a rigorous exam of brains and brawn to become Venice's first official female gondolier – or gondoliera in Italian, a term that didn't even exist until her achievement made it necessary.

"I was born among gondoliers," Ms. Boscola said on a languorous afternoon brilliant with sunshine. "It's the only job I've ever wanted."

Although the days when Venetian canals were crowded with thousands of gondolas that served as an essential mode of transportation are long past, being a gondolier is a proud tradition, and it has not been easy for some men to accept her in the role. It has been made harder by the fact that her presence has attracted a lot of media attention that the 400+ male gondoliers have never had.

TV stations jockeyed for airtime with the telegenic blond. A savvy entrepreneur swiftly turned Ms. Boscolo and her father into pinup models, featuring them together as Mr. and Ms. April in a 2010 calendar of sexy gondoliers that hit stores within days.

"I didn't expect it," she said, shaking her head at the feeding frenzy. "Every phone call was a different journalist."

She delegated the task of fielding the calls to one of her sisters and insists that the only payment she asked for was reimbursement for travel costs related to an out-of-town interview. Nevertheless, the gondoliers’ guild, which presides over what remains a tightly controlled trade that regulates even the smallest of details, down to the width of the stripes on the gondoliers' shirts, was alarmed.

"The honor and history of the gondoliers cannot be commercialized, not even if we're talking about the first woman to be authorized to take up an oar," Aldo Rosso, guild president, told a local newspaper. Ms. Boscolo has apologized for any offense, reiterating that her only desire was to complete her training and realize the dream she's held since girlhood.

At 56, her father has been gliding around Venice for four decades and is ready to hang up his striped shirt. Without a son to pass the job down to, he is reconciled to passing it on to his daughter. He recognizes her passion, and says gondoliering is “in her DNA," but like his fellow gondoliers, he cannot easily adjust to this change.

"I'm very proud of her, but I still have to say that it's not a job for a woman, even though she's my daughter. But you know, in modern times, women are doing a lot of jobs that used to belong to men," Mr. Boscolo said. He squeezed his daughter's right biceps and considered a moment. "She needs a bit more muscle," he added.

Story 3: Taking a Gondolier Lesson

More than a year ago, Weekly News Bites featured an article on unusual summer camps. One of them was gondoliering camp in Venice. Australian Louise Brown did not exactly go to camp, but she did take a three hour lesson and lived to write about it. They begin their journey at 7:00 a.m. after a frosty night, before the canals are at their height of activity. Here is some of what she had to say (Comments from other sources, also incorporated into this article, are in parentheses):

My teacher, Giovanni Giudice, left his job as a lawyer eight years ago to become a gondolier. "Venice was built to be admired from the water," he says. "To discover the city's secrets [you] have to do it from the water. For this you need time and patience."

While I stay seated, Giudice effortlessly pushes the 700-kilogram gondola out into the canal. As we reach the crumbling facade of Venice's university I am told to take off my coat and clamber over the seat.

Gripping oar and Giudice, I try to hold my balance on the sloping back part of the vessel. "Bend your knees - think of surfing," Giudice orders. "Hold the oar, but don't squeeze it."

I concentrate on the rowing motion, dipping the narrow end of the oar just under the water's surface; it needs to be a light and surprisingly fast, successive movement controlled mainly by the wrists and shoulders.

A passing delivery boat suddenly makes the gondola rock while a Doberman barks from the prow of a white motor taxi. Instead of moving forward, the gondola veers to the right, blocking one of Venice's busiest waterways.

Giudice pushes his blue-ribboned boater a little higher up on his forehead and, with just a few oar strokes, quickly turns the gondola around. "You need to look ahead, too, my dear, and not at the oar," he grins. "Or do you watch the steering wheel or brakes all the time while driving?"

Even today the gondola remains a mystery: some scholars claim they date back to 697, yet the first accepted documentary reference appeared in 1094. Made of 280 separate parts and eight kinds of wood, it once had 12 oars. By the 16th century, gondolas were so encumbered with decoration the authorities issued a law banning ostentation. Thereafter gondola decoration was restricted to a multipronged ferro, or prow, the odd golden seahorse and its famously curved tail. (Supposedly, the S-curve represents Venice's Grand Canal and the six strips below it represent the city's six sestieri. The rounded top is the same shape as the Doge's hat. All gondolas are painted black.)

Despite their uniform look, no gondola is like another. "Amor Vincit Omnia" - love conquers all - is inscribed over the double seat on Giudice's gondola. The forcola, or elbow-shaped "fork", which serves both as support and counterweight for the oar, was carved especially for him out of walnut wood by hand.

The classic gondolier stands left foot forward, flexible in the hips - "like an Italian Elvis!" laughs Giudice - the oar resting on the forcola. He dips the oar into the water, the gondola moves forward and he breaks joyfully into song. (All gondolas are handmade, with a slight lean to the left so that the paddling of the gondolier is somewhat offset.)

I dip the oar into the water, slap, scoop and shovel. Eventually I lose grip of the oar and it slips into the canal, only to be rescued at the last minute by my quick-witted tutor.

Giudice says the hardest part of the job is ironing his 10 striped T-shirts. The strict dress code also applies to his pupils: shorts and trainers are not acceptable when rowing a gondola. "After all, we are not rafting!" he says, laughing.

His final words about technique are these: "When you work the oar, pretend it is the easiest thing you have ever done. It has to look effortless and beautiful. Imagine you were in a Tintoretto painting."

Ms. Brown had no intention of becoming a gondolier; she simply wanted an interesting experience, which is probably a good thing. As noted in our previous stories, it is highly unlikely that you will get a gondolier's license in Venice if you are not a male born into a gondoliering family. According to one website article, “most gondolier licenses are passed down through the family. A gondolier's license traditionally goes to the widow after the gondolier dies, and she passes it on to another family member. Since gondoliers are among the highest paid people in Venice (about $150,000 per year in 2007), this is a very valuable license to hold.”

Altogether there are now fewer than 500 licensed gondoliers in Venice. The tests are rigorous – both knowing the history and culture of the area and learning the skills of maneuvering the gondola like a figure in a Tintoretto painting – but surprisingly, singing is not required.

Ms. Brown’s article was written January 19, 2008, and can be found HERE.