56 Rosalba Carriera and the Delights of the Dolce Vita in Venice Let us begin by taking a look at the ingredients which contributed to Rosalba Carriera’s success. How do we account for the fact that she became a famous artist in her own country, and even more famous abroad, when she was still just a young woman? Of course, it had to do with her skill in distilling the tastes of her time in her paintings, and her ability to make her portraits speak to that special sentiment of sympathy celebrated by the culture of sensibility and ardently championed by David Hume.1 But her ability to attract attention abroad can also be attributed to the fascination that Venice itself held for foreigners, not least because of the unusual lifestyle of its citizens – and especially its womenfolk. The freedom enjoyed by Venetian women was noted with amazement in the accounts of travellers, aristocrats, and worldly aesthetes, for whoma visit to the city on the lagoonwas an essential part of the Grand Tour. According to the Frenchman François Maximilien Misson, writing as early as the late 17th century, nuns ventured out incognito, while ladies availed themselves of the services of gondolieri to move around the city unmolested.2 The severe Montesquieu, who arrived in Venice on 16 August 1728, went even further, claiming that the local custom of mask-wearing meant that Venetian ladies “vont avec qui elles veulent, et où elles veulent” (go wherever they want, with whomever they want).3 For the French philosopher, this sort of freedomwas a sign of spiritual decadence, and only helped confirm his low opinion of La Serenissima’s republican- aristocratic government. For the young English aristocrat Horace Walpole, on the other hand, it was all part of the carefree joie de vivre which one came to the city to enjoy. While Paris was the undisputed mistress of the salon and the art of conversation, social intercourse in the French capital was always closely linked to the court and its intrigues. Venice, by contrast, was remarkable for the breadth of its social life, which thrived all over the city in cafes, clubs, theatres, casinos, convent parlours, conservatoires, and hospitals, where young orphan girls (le putte della musica) were taught music and dancing,4 not to mention the outdoor realm of its public squares and streets.5 During her stay in the city, Madame du Boccage noted in her travel diary that the freedom enjoyed by women in Paris was “immeasurably” exceeded6 by that of the women of Venice, especially during the hours of darkness. Venice did not escape the general tide of urban redevelopment which swept the great cities of Europe from the end of the 17th century onwards. In the face of population growth, ever-increasing consumption, and burgeoning commercial wealth, there was a need to improve the quality of metropolitan life. A sine qua non of this process was providing cities with street lighting. Venice was as forward-thinking as any European metropolis in this respect: in 1732, the Senate voted to install 843 oil lanterns to provide light and security at night, thus making it even easier for women to move about.7 In 1763, the French abbot Gabriel-François Coyer remarked that the streets of Venice were far better lit “than is usually the case in Italy.”8 Another source of astonishment for visitors was that many of the Venetian patriciate liked to congregate in small rooms or apartments named casini with members of the middle classes – and indeed anyone else able to pay their way – to engage in conversation and other amusements, not all of which were bawdy or involved gambling. As travellers also noted, even the ladies had their own casini to frequent, just like their husbands. In 1744, a survey conducted by the Venetian State Inquisition – the authority responsible for public order – counted a total of 118 casini. By the time of the republic’s demise in 1797, the number had risen to 136.9 A high proportion of these spaces was concentrated in the city’s main entertainment district, which ran from the Piazza SanMarco to the neighbourhoods of SanMoisè and Frezzeria. This was the area where the Post Office was located and where the writers of the city’s newssheets gleaned their information. A number of casini could also be found in peripheral areas, like the Giudecca. Others again were situated right next to the social spaces which formed the beating heart of Venetian society – above all, the theatres, which were frequented not only by large numbers of foreigners but also by Venetians of every class. Patricians, the middle classes, and the common people may have been seated in separate areas, but all were united in the shared custom and pleasure of theatregoing. What particularly impressed visitors to the city, the British in particular, was its café life. The city was packed with lively coffeehouses, often with interior or adjacent “private parlours” for conversation and club meetings. There were so many of them that it was decided in 1759 to restrict their number to a mere 206 (fig. 1). In Britain, the home of clubs and associations, coffeehouses had started springing up by the mid-1600s. They represented a strictly male domain, however, admittedly open to men of all social classes but considered unsuitable for respectable women. The female presence was restricted to the women who ran them or worked as waitresses, or to the prostitutes that would use the premises to solicit clients. In France, too, where the development of coffeehouses began somewhat later, the clientele was mainly, though not exclusively, male. If women were present, they tended to be employees, the wives or daughters of café owners, waitresses, prostitutes, servants, or married women closely accompanied by their husbands. The ambience
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