How I came to live in a Palazzo

A research trip to Venice

This view was regularly seen by Joseph Smith, George III and me.

I've been doing some research on Joseph Smith (c. 1674-1770), who appears in my book (working title: Sir John Vanbrugh and the Making of Britain). Smith was an Englishman who moved to Venice around 1700, where he established himself as a collector of rare books and paintings. In 1744 he was made British Consul in Venice and was thereafter known by all as Consul Smith. He lived in a small palazzo, then called Palazzo Balbi, on Calle del Dragon, facing the Grand Canal near to the Rialto Bridge. This place figures largely in the second half of my book.

Luckily, I’m of the school of thought that biographers should experience the life of their subjects as much as possible, including the views out of their windows, the food they ate, what the read, where they worked. A high point of 2023 was staying for a few nights in this palazzo, which I was delighted to discover was an Airbnb (I’m not sure it’s still one, which is why another rule of biography is to grab the opportunity to visit a place as soon as it presents itself!)

Now called Palazzo Mangilli Valmarana, this location is certainly one of the more beautiful ones I’ve visited for research purposes. We stayed in a flat on the ground floor but Smith probably inhabited the upper rooms, particularly the piano nobile, where it was customary to have a salon for accepting visitors (this area of the palazzo currently appears to be a location for the Venice Biennale).

Married to the English soprano, Catherine Tofts, Smith was a magnet for British Grand Tourists; he also became the principal British agent for artists such as Canaletto and Rosalba Carriera, whose works were on show at the palazzo and could be purchased by visitors.

Joseph Smith by Rosalba Carriera. Wikicommons.

Canaletto painted at least one view of the Rialto Bridge, subsequently sold to George III (still in the Royal Collection today), which is the very same view I saw out of the window every morning.

Notes from my trip include the cries of the gondoliers, which I heard in the evenings as they turned their boats around (a kind of “Aaa-eeee!” which apprently means “Watch out!”) These cries have remained the same for centuries. I also noted the smell of the seaweed and the astonishing array of working boats which came past in the early hours of the morning, to be followed, around 9am, by the gondolas - all day. At night, I could hear the Grand Canal washing against the bedroom wall.

The Palazzo has its own landing stage for boats and the owner arranged for us to arrive this way from the airport.

View from the lounge window of the famous fish market.

Shoes can get wet here when the Grand Canal is high.

Communal back garden which we used most days to access the Cannaregio area of the city.