History concepts and applications

St. Mark's Basilica - An International Treasure

It's a given fact that countless great cathedrals, monasteries, and other holy places have been built over the ages as a testament to man's devotion to God. In point of even more practical fact, that devotion was often tempered and blended with a generous portion of servitude to one's feudal lord as well, with the unspoken incentive that one got to keep one's property, position, or even one's life if one gave good service . . . and if one did not, well, things may not go as well as one would hope! But St. Mark's Basilica in Venice, Italy, may well have an additional distinction of its own-not only as a sign of devotion to God, but as an edifice that stands uniquely in itself as a visual means of atonement for sin, an effort at retribution for what might well be termed a "divine crime " . . . But exploring that story may be putting the proverbial cart before the horse. First, let's get a bit of the lay of the land for the environs of San Marco itself. "Lay of the land" is indeed an apt phrase when one describes St. Mark's Basilica, since the church is in fact a major architectural and historical "anchor" of the city, located as it is adjacent to the Residence of the Doge (the duke, or main patriarch, of Venice and Genoa), as well as its focus for the central Piazza in the city. Modeled after the original Church of the Holy Apostles in Constantinople (536-46), the basilica as it stands today is actually the third church erected on the present site. Its first incarnation came about in 828, when its construction (by unknown architects) was ordered by Doge Giustiniano Partecipazio to commemorate the interment of the body of the evangelist Mark. After a fire in 976, the church was rebuilt, then added to and expanded greatly in the latter half of the 11th century (although retaining much of the original foundation and masonry). Although different consecration dates appear in history for this church-from 832 (http://www.kfki.hu/~arthp/database/churches/marcobas.html) to 1094-(http://www.venetia.it/mbasil.ita.htm), it has been the patriarchal seat and cathedral of the city only since 1807, when it replaced the former cathedral of San Pietro di Castello. The church itself is built in the shape of a Greek cross, with each arm consisting of three aisles separated from one another by round arches upon marble columns, and five large domes held up by massive pillars (http://library.thinkquest.org/18778/st.htm). Although reflecting a wide variety of architectural styles-the present-day basilica is a mixture of Byzantine, Gothic, Renaissance, and Moorish-because of its changes and additions over the centuries, the church's origins remain primarily Byzantine, with heavy influences from the Orient. Its exterior is decorated with marble brought back after the Venetian conquest of Constantinople in 1204 (http://www.worldtouristattractions.travel-guides.com/attractions/smb/smb.asp), and some of the pillars are even reputed to have been conveyed to Venice from the original temple of Solomon. Also brought back to Venice at the time of the Fourth Crusade were the four famous bronze horses that grace the west fa?ade. Originally part of a Greco-Roman triumphal quadriga (a sculpture of a car or chariot drawn by four horses abreast) and placed in the Arsenal, they, too, have had various "resting places." They were even removed to Paris by Napoleon at one point before being returned in 1815 (http://www.kfki.hu/~arthp/database/churches/marcobas.html). Other more practical reasons have contributed to moving the original horses yet again: due to weather damage over the centuries, the originals were at last restored and placed on display in the Museum of the Basilica, while duplicates have taken their place on the basilica's terrace. The basilica commands attention not only with its impressive exterior ornamentation, but with its sheer size and height. Pilgrims who climb its Loggia (veranda) can see both the famous Venetian Lagoon and the surrounding islands (http://www.worldtouristattractions.travel-guides.com/attractions/smb/smb.asp). They can even compare the views between the Basilica itself and the bell tower (Campanile) which, at 99m (272 ft), is the tallest building in Venice (www.hillmanwonders.com/stmarksbasilicacampanile/stmarksbasilicacampanile.htm). This tower, in fact, dominated the skyline for centuries until unexpectedly-and without explanation-it collapsed in 1902. Fortunately, the 1912 reconstruction of the Campanile was done on its original site, and with an eye to restoring it as much to its original form as possible. As for the interior, St. Mark's well earns its nickname "The Church of Gold" (www.hillmanwonders.com/stmarksbasilicacampanile/stmarksbasilicacampanile.htm). Gold mosaics-some 4000 meters of them-cover the ceilings and walls, with sacred scenes that focus on the life-and death-of the evangelist. Farthest to the left of the main entrance is a scene depicting the body of St. Mark being transported to the Basilica. To the left of the central arch, a mosaic is entitled The Venetians Pay Tribute to the Body of St. Mark. To the right of that same central arch is a representation of the Arrival of St. Mark's Body in Venice, while the far right mosaic backtracks in time somewhat with its title and depiction symbolizing Removal of St. Mark's Body from Alexandria. Finally, centrally located is a later mosaic by L. Querena entitled the Last Judgement, dating from 1836 (http://library.thinkquest.org/18778/st.htm). Additional mosaics attributed to 13th century Venetian masters cover the arches and domes, illustrating scenes from both the Old and New Testaments. An additional, and especially lavish, use of gold in the Basilica is the famed "Pala D'Oro", or Golden Altarpiece (Screen), commissioned by Doge Pietro Orseolo in 978 and restructured in 1105 by Doge Ordelaffo Faliero (http://library.thinkquest.org/18778/st.htm). Measuring 11 by 4 1/2 feet, it is an ornate screen in a gilded frame which contains 80 enamel plaques (made in Byzantium) surrounded by diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and topaz. Among the scenes portrayed on this screen is A Scene from the Life of St. Mark, a tempera work which dates from 1345 by the artist Paozo Veneziano (~1300 - 1360), considered the first known painter of the workshop of San Marco (http://www.kfki.hu/~arthp/html/p/paolo/venezian/stmark.html). The painting represents a scene in which St. Mark himself appears on the boat to calm a storm which threatens the safety of those transporting his body from Alexandria. At the bottom it is signed, "Magr. Paulus Cu Luca. Et Iohe Filiis Suis Pinxerunt (hoc opus)," or, "painted by Master Paul with his sons Luke and John." Like much of the basilica, this Golden Screen has had its retouchings: once in 1105 (commissioned by Doge Ordelaffo Faliero), and again in 1209-but from all accounts, historians and tourists alike seem to agree that, just as with the reconstruction of the Campanile, these restorations were done with loving care that preserved and enhanced its inherent beauty. But "all that glitters" is not the sole artistic treasure the basilica can boast. Enhancing graceful slightly pointed arches-the earliest of their kind in Italy (http://library.thinkquest.org/18778/st.htm)-are Byzantine bas-relief and sculpture honoring such diverse subjects Hercules and the Boar, St. George, St. Demetrius, the Archangel Gabriel, and Hercules and the Deer. Contained in the main portal is also a collection of sculptured images called the Labours of the Months (http://www.kfki.hu/~arthp/html/p/paolo/venezian/stmark.html). Portraying various everyday jobs or "labors," delineated by certain months of the year, these images include November's carving of a bird-hunter and December's depiction of a butcher killing a pig. The carvings, dating from about 1275, are unattributed for the most part; but they are said to be heavily influenced by Benedetto Antelemi, an Italian sculptor of the Parma school who was active between the years of 1170 and 1230; his works can be seen in great detail in the Baptistry at Parma. As awe-inspiring as all these visual treats are to behold, though, they're not the most fascinating part of the story of St. Mark's Basilica. Part of the reason for the abundance of art and precious artifacts, for the sheer richness and extravagance of the place, may well lie in the history behind how St. Mark's became St. Mark's in the first place . . . and that's where we return once more to hypothesizing about whether this wonderful place of worship is, at least partially, sacrifice and reparation in one. One might wonder-since the original patron saint of the city of Venice was St. Theodore-how Mark, evangelist or no evangelist, got into the picture of Venice at all. A little bit of research, and just a touch of historical reading, reveals a story with enough cloak-and-dagger and "spin doctored" elements in it to come out of today's news. The gist? Something like this: Among the most treasured artifacts in the Basilica is what resides beneath its white marble altar-namely, the remains of the evangelist St. Mark. Ironically, some historians assert that these very remains may be the most outlandish example of "plunder" taken from the Crusades. While carrying off a body may sound extreme in light of contemporary theology, in medieval times such a thing would not have been beyond the ken; what a forensic scientist nowadays might call "evidence," holy fighters called "relics," and everything from articles of clothing, household items, snippets of hair, to wood from the Cross itself, was fair game. We know now that more than one knight who went to the Holy Lands ostensibly to "rout out the infidel" actually had a more pragmatic agenda: they brought home loot, everything they could physically handle plus anything more they could load on pack animals and/or enlist the aid of a squire or a fellow traveler to help them haul away. In that context, therefore, it's neither very surprising nor out of the realm of possibility that one particular group of mercenaries saw a chance for a real gold mine to come their way-if not the Holy Grail, then a pretty good second choice! Thus it was in 829, the story goes, that two merchants smuggled the body of St. Mark from its original burial place in Alexandria, Egypt, to Venice, upon which point the Doge promptly declared the church as the apostle's official burial place and appropriated him as the new patron saint. This in and of itself wasn't a problem; a town could, after all, have more than one patron saint-and no doubt, they reasoned, where better would God want to bestow such an honor than Italy? However, declaring a saint's "official" burial place to be in one spot, when a substantial number of Egyptian citizens could staunchly disagree and even prove otherwise . . . now, there was a sticky political issue. The people of Venice were, after all, a godly sort who couldn't live a lie for too long . . . and fortunately, they didn't have to. Where the tale sprung up, history doesn't tell us exactly. But spring up it did, a story entirely plausible to the pious people of the time, and one that honored Venice even more in the bargain. Seems in the fourth century-or so the holy men said-Mark was in fact in northern Italy, visiting the Venetian Lagoon, when he met an angel. The angel greeted him, "Peace to you, Mark, my Evangelist." Since Mark's honored position as an evangelist was thereby approved and officially recognized by God himself, it stood to reason that Venice had been preordained as well as his final resting place, designated so by the angel. Would anyone argue with God at that point? Not likely, especially since the Doge so clearly believed God would have it no other way. And so, Mark became the second official patron saint of Venice. As for what happened to Theodore-no, the Venetians didn't offer him to Alexandria in a sort of godly "exchange program." What they did was erect two statues, one for Mark and one for Theodore, in the area adjacent to the church. This brought about a unique character to the whole piazza, having on one hand the Doge's residence, on the other the house of God, and in the middle . . . a house of justice. Indeed, prisons were located in the nether regions below the Doge's house, and the Bridge of Sighs was later so named because prisoners believed as they crossed that bridge to the dungeons, they might well never see the beauty of the lagoon and its islands again. But long before that, once Venice had its two patrons on hand to oversee citizens' conduct, the piazza soon became a center of not only man's justice but God's. Convicted criminals were executed between these two saints' images, and soon parents even began to use the words "your fate will be between the saints" to discipline unruly children (www.ertrav.com/pathways/html/sanmarco.asp)! But did the Venetians themselves, even while bestowing all this honor on both their patrons, feel a lingering guilt? Is this what prompted the "spare no expense" approach to building this house of worship? They may have, if one takes the approach that taking St. Mark's body from Alexandria was little more than another example of "sacred plunder" about which (no matter what the Doge says) one feels a little uneasy. However, Mark's body may not have been plunder at all; it may, indeed, have been a legitimate relic, and one taken with the most altruistic of intentions. When the evangelist first died, early Christians had to fight against the Alexandrian custom of cremation to prevent his remains from going up in smoke. No sooner had that battle been won but Muslims took control of the area, and many Crusaders honestly believed those same Muslims were about to desecrate holy ground-so they wanted to get Mark out of there to avoid the unthinkable (http://www.photo.net/italy/venice-san-marco). In order to do so, history recounts, they hid the remains between slices of pork; since pork was not only considered unclean by Jews but forbidden to Muslims, the inspectors wouldn't go near it, and the smuggling mission-holy or otherwise-was a success. Even after all that travail to secure the evangelist's remains, however, they were still believed lost in the fire of 976 . . . until they "miraculously reappeared" when the new church was consecrated in 1094. Miracle, or political manipulation? Many citizens would never know, and more than likely we won't, either. In light of the treasure we still have on hand to behold-one that has withstood more than its share of trouble to stand today-perhaps it's not important to know which story is authentic. Perhaps motivations and secret sins are less important than the labor of love that is St. Mark's and all it stands for. Perhaps all that really matters is what we can see before us, a treasure that has lasted hundreds of years-one that uplifts the spirit as well as the senses. Perhaps that, in and of itself, is sufficient proof that indeed "the winged lion" still watches over Venice with a special fondness.