The walk to Giudecca

When the plague finally released its crushing grip on Venice in 1577, fifty thousand people — nearly a third of the city's population — had died. It is almost unimaginable to lose one out of every three neighbors, one out of every three friends, one out of every three family members. Yet in the face of such utter devastation, Venetians answered by doing what they do best: they created. While the plague still raged and salvation was far from certain in September of 1576, the Republic vowed that if the city were spared, it would build a church to the Redeemer and return to it in a thanksgiving pilgrimage every year, forever. Legendary architect Andrea Palladio was commissioned to design what would become one of his masterpieces, the Chiesa del Santissimo Redentore (Church of the Redeemer) on the island of Giudecca. A temporary wooden church was erected on the site in a matter of days, and a bridge of boats was floated across the canal so that the entire population, from fishers to the Doge, could make the pilgrimage to offer thanks.

Venice has kept its word, and the Venetians have been crossing ever since, renewing the promise rather than merely remembering it. The bridge still floats each summer, assembled for a single weekend, dismantled, and built anew the following year as it has for four and a half centuries. On the eve of the feast, the lagoon fills with boats and the sky above the Giudecca erupts in fireworks, a symbol of light overpowering darkness, beauty rising above death.

It is tempting to see the Festa del Redentore as simply a celebration. But underneath the festivity lies something older and more defiant, something that began as Venice’s answer to catastrophe that joins the community in a way that goes beyond just sharing an island. The city understood that the real opposite of death is in creation, and that nothing renews a sense of commitment to our humanity like art and beauty.