Venice and Alviso

Take Alviso, a not very impressive stretch of marsh and small, sandy islands. At the turn of the last century, just before ill-fated attempts to turn it into 'New Chicago March,' the supposedly promising site of future manufacturing and commerce, it was even less impressive than it is now. Today, most of the geography has been dredged to form salt ponds for the Morton company.

Yet imagine how it might have been under different circumstances. In truth, this sheltered cove connected to the ocean by its location in San Francisco Bay and the winding Alviso Slough, might have supported a different legacy, as would its location past the East Hills. Imagine a 'simpler,' more primitive time of wandering barbarian tribes and Mediterranean agrarian societies on the brink.

A re-telling of the storied legacy of La Serennissima might come to mind in re-imagining the rather mundane story of Alviso. Can't quite see the comparison, ready to laugh at me for even making it? Well let me relate it and tell me what you think.

Ah Venice, the glory of the Adriatic, defender of Christendom from the sway of the Turk, trader to all and sundry, bold and beautiful, ruthless and cunning, a match for great Byzantium itself. In its time, from about the start of the second Christian millennium to its downfall at the feet of Napoleon himself, its power and wealth, its place in European affairs, was such that it was claimed to be at the height of its power from roughly the 14th to the 16th century, to be the uncrowned capitol of Europe.

Yet it wasn't always the Jewel positioned before the fertile plains of the Veneto. During the whole of the first millennium, while the power and glory of Roma rose and fell for the final time, one could have come to the current location and found it not unlike Alviso was when it was discovered and named for Ignacio Alviso, an 18th century explorer of California whose descendants were deeded land around the area.  An area of tan marshes and mud and sand islets encrusted with salt and the guano of cackling sea birds feeding and breeding in the marshes and swooping and gliding overhead.

Then came the barbarians to the peninsula and the gates of its many cities. No one knows exactly when or for what circumstance the first inhabitants came to this place. Some say it was in the wake of Attila's ravages in the 5th century. Others, the incursions of the Lombards in the 8th and 9th. Elements of both stories are probably true and what is certain is that the little settlements that sprang up in the sheltered lagoon, previously inhabited only by itinerant fishermen, were the product of conflict.

While the hills beyond constituted a fine defensive barrier, still much more was needed if a proper community would arise. So it was that the various refugee communities settled on the 118 islets, found strength and peace in unity. The islets were linked by bridges of various kinds. 

In wartime, these could be destroyed and the communities linked by them were thus protected from direct land attack. The fishermen turned boatswains were in turn transformed into defenders, whose fast boats and picks ruthlessly dispatched all who attempted menace on the waters. In time, these fine foes became the famed gondoliers whose storied passages are still a unique part of the visual landscape on the sun-kissed waters.

One can see with the mind's eye what Alviso might look like under conditions like those that graced Venice. Far out, where the train tracks go past the slumbering ruins of the ghost town of Drawbridge, would be the start of the great Lido. Once past, near where the ponds bloom salmon and tan, where the water is death to swarming little fish and where the Great Flyway brings bird life of all sorts to rest, sea gulls, ducks and geese, the sight that inspired the view from London's Thames would present itself. The great basilica of St Giorgio Maggiore, the Hall of the Senate and the Ducal Palace and where the birds strolled and the lions had wings, San Marco square. 

Perhaps upon the islets that still litter the lagoon of Alviso, one can spot a place for the famed glassworks of Murano, the constant activity of the grand brick edifices of the Arsenal, the waters filled with grand galleons and galleasses, bringing the wealth to Venice and striking its might from the Adriatic, to the Aegean to the Levant, even up to the realm of the Ottomans and the legendary Golden Gate of the Dardanelles itself.

Alas, Alviso's life began in more humdrum, utilitarian circumstances. The outlet for the fruits and early on, the pelts of Santa Clara Valley to the markets of San Francisco wasn't really as congenial for its early formation as Venice's more dramatic story. Still, one can see how the mechanics of history can work in similar circumstances and one can dream of the beauty and history that boasts such as the music of Vivaldi, the painting of Giorgione and Titian and the majesty of the legendary Carnival.