Venice has always had to live with the water that surrounds it, and with the erosion that it causes, especially on the shores. That is why the latter are protected by white Istrian stone.
In many cases entire areas of the lagoon have been filled in order to enlarge the building zones.
Before starting to build the palazzi that line the canals, the Venetians drove wooden piles into the ground to make it more solid.
As you can read in the Atlante storico della Serenessima,”The foundations of all of the buildings are made of very strong oak piles, which last eternally under water… These are driven firmly into the ground in dense groups, then blocked with large crosspieces and the space between them is filled with fragments of stone and cement, which solidify them into firm, stable foundations.”
These are then covered with a layer of thick planks and blocks of Istrian stone. From here they began to raise the foundation walls. In other words, it’s as if Venice were built atop an upside-down forest.
The buildings had to adapt to this unstable terrain, this is one of the reasons why the buildings in Venice are extremely flexible, and therefore able to adapt to the movements of the ground. The walls of the buildings overlooking the canals are mainly perimeter walls; the facades, in fact, are not bearing walls at all, which is why they can be so full of decorative openings—such as the characteristic windows—which allow light into the rooms and halls of these historic palazzi.
Strolling down the small side streets, you’re sure to have noticed some walls that swell outwards or tilt inwards. This happens because they are built in such a way that the walls don’t open outwards but rather, to prevent sagging, tend to lean towards the roof. The floors of the buildings are also made of wood, a lightweight and flexible material, and attached to the walls with metal ties, so that these horizontal structures work against the outward collapse of masonry elements.
So, where did all of this wood come from?
The Cansiglio forest was always part of the Repubblica Serenissima (Most Serene Republic of Venice), which needed to preserve productive and efficient forests in order to supply timber to the Venetian Arsenal for the construction of oars for Venice’s famed galleys.
As is mentioned in the Atlante storico della Serenissima, the oak came from the areas around Treviso, Friuli and later also from Istria, while mountain fir and larch came from Valsugana, Bassano and Cadore. The wood was transported via the rivers: the Adige, the Brenta, and the Piave.
The logs were tied together into rafts (zattere) and carried down river to Venice by the current. Here they reached the Fondamenta delle Zattere, where they were then sorted. Some of the logs were taken to Venice’s Arsenal, others to San Biagio and Giudecca, where firewood was stored. Other logs also moved along the shoreline and were carried to where they were needed for construction: “They are mainly used to shore up the land, as for example was done for the bell tower of Saint Mark’s, larch for the big rafts that serve as a foundation: arranging the planks like flooring on the tops of the piers, which are all cut to the same height. Boats require more valuable wood: oak for the woodwork and the edging, larch for the interiors, and fir
for the ship’s masts.”
Venice’s ‘bricole’ are also tree trunks that have been in the lagoon for centuries and contribute to the city’s unique and fascinating identity. Once this wood has aged and eroded, it is replaced and the bricole that have reached the end of their lifecycle are salvaged and reused to create the objects designed by Pieces of Venice. Each one of these objects preserves a ‘piece of Venice’ and travels the world to tell the age-old story of this city, a rich repository of art and culture.
Sources
Images:
Venicewiki
Museo degli Zatterieri del Piave
Texts:
Atlante storico della Serenissima di Giovanni Distefano
As an enthusiast deeply versed in the intricate history and engineering marvels of Venice, let me delve into the concepts explored in the article from February 12, 2020, titled "By Pieces of Venice."
The author touches upon the unique challenges Venice faces due to its aquatic surroundings and the erosion caused by water. To combat this, the Venetians ingeniously employed the use of white Istrian stone to protect the shores. The article highlights the extensive use of oak piles in the construction of buildings, a fact corroborated by the "Atlante storico della Serenessima." These oak piles, driven into the ground in dense groups and reinforced with stone and cement, form the foundation that lasts eternally underwater.
What truly sets Venice apart is the unconventional construction atop an "upside-down forest." Wooden piles, firmly entrenched, provide a stable base for buildings, allowing them to adapt to the city's dynamic and unstable terrain. The walls, particularly those facing the canals, are primarily perimeter walls, not bearing walls, allowing for decorative openings like characteristic windows that usher in light.
The flexibility of Venice's buildings is further emphasized in the article, discussing the noticeable outward or inward tilting of walls in small side streets. The materials used, such as wood for floors, contribute to this flexibility. Wooden floors, lightweight and flexible, are connected to walls with metal ties, countering the outward collapse of masonry elements.
The source of the wood used in Venice's construction is traced back to the Cansiglio forest, an integral part of the Most Serene Republic of Venice. This forest supplied oak from Treviso, Friuli, and Istria, along with mountain fir and larch from Valsugana, Bassano, and Cadore. Transportation of these logs was facilitated through rivers like the Adige, the Brenta, and the Piave, where they were assembled into rafts and floated downstream to Venice. Different types of wood served various purposes, from building foundations to ship construction in the renowned Venetian Arsenal.
The article also sheds light on the significance of Venice's 'bricole,' tree trunks that have endured for centuries in the lagoon and contribute to the city's identity. These weathered trunks, once replaced, find a second life in Pieces of Venice's creations, preserving a "piece of Venice" and narrating the city's age-old story across the globe.
In summary, the article provides a captivating exploration of Venice's unique construction methods, intertwining history, engineering, and the city's enduring relationship with water and wood.
