An American Ringer in Verona

It was Pentecost Eve.

My fellow traveler—not a ringer but a generous and consideratefriend—had arranged a day trip for us to Verona from Venice, wherewe were having a glorious Italian week pretending to be rich andfamous, trying not to think about the inevitable personal consequencesof an unfavorable currency exchange rate. In preparation for ouradventure I had exchanged a few posts with George Morris in Malvern(UK) and Anna Thomson in Verona, asking permission to watch ringing,if there was to be any, that first full week of May. Though neitherof them would be in the area during my visit they had both respondedgraciously and forwarded my request on to the President of theVeronese Association. And so, on the appointed day we left our magicwater world for Italian motorways, being assured by email from PaoloAvesana that we would indeed be welcome to go around with the localson their Saturday evening ringing circuit.

Our afternoon in Verona was spent with wonderful guide Andrea whotoured us capably through monuments to Dante and Scala and made surewe understood that there was never a specific Romeo andJuliet—although there could have been, given the religious andpolitical underpinnings of the age. Legend is apparently more popularthan fact, however—“Casa di Giulietta,” a brainchildof the 20th century and Hollywood, was jam-packed with tourists.

By 5:30 pm we were standing outside the bell tower at SanGiorgio in Braida (“outside the city wall”,according to Andrea) as agreed. I could see the bells as they hang inthe top of an “open” tower, quite tall, and could seepeople standing next to the bells, walking around them, apparentlyhaving a look. It was not obvious, however, that San Giorgio was aground floor ring with a “secret” exterior door which Imistook for part of the church wall. Just before concluding indespair that there had been a miscommunication I was met by Paolo andwhisked inside the ringing room just in time for the concerto.

Now before going any further, let me confess that my research onItalian ringing had been quite limited. That knowledge far surpassed,however, both my ability to converse in Italian and most of theVeronese ringers' abilities to converse in English on that day in thattower. Relying solely on customary tower etiquette and protocol, andarmed with smiles and a couple of St. Luke's—Atlanta towershirts to offer as gifts, there were no serious missteps during thatfirst Italian tower grab, so to speak, and I was thrilled to bewelcomed to come along to the next tower, Sant'Anastasia.

Ringing in Verona seems remarkably similar to ringing in the Englishtradition, and remarkably different. The ropes consist of steel cablefrom the bell wheel to just above the ringing chamber, where a hemprope is connected. Compared to most North American towers the draftis incredibly long, as most Italian towers are tall. There is nosally or tail end, and the rope end customarily lies in a heap on thefloor. The bells were rung up at the beginning of each“concerto” and rung down at the end of each—not muchorganization to either. It looked as if they intentionally gave theheavier bells a head start, a good idea especially at Verona Cathedralwhere the tenor, the world's largest full circle ringing bell(88cwt)required 4-5 ringers all pulling together, and included freshringers relieving the tired ones! But, I digress.

As we set off for Verona's largest church, I had no idea why theringers insisted so vehemently that we walk with them toSant'Anastasia (c. 1290). We had a perfectly good car and driver whoknew the way, but discussing it in either language was not anoption. On arrival at the majestic Gothic structure, however, itbecame immediately obvious that I would never have found the waythrough a back entrance, to the hidden stairs, to the ringing chamber,and especially not past the old priest who, not recognizing me as oneof the usual ringers, forbade me to follow them! Even I understoodhis Italian “No, No, No!” Being vouched for by goodringers can get you into a lot of great places and this was certainlyone of those.

Climbing the many flights of stairs up to the ringing room (and on upto the bells) was not insignificant, but well worth the trip. Thephysical effort of access corresponded with other aspects of theringing in Verona—the tradition of raising and lowering of bellsfor each separate concerto, each of which may last only a few minutes;long drafts; heavier bells. I saw several instances of 2 young menpairing to ring one bell, and I wondered if the physicality of TheItalian Exercise accounted for the mostly-male group of ringers I sawthat day. And there were so MANY of them—20? 30? Possibly,this was a phenomenon of Verona, or of that particular date? Therehad been a meeting of their regional Association that day. Perhapstower bell ringing continues in Italy as a traditionally-maleactivity? I had so many questions, and so little ability tounderstand the language of the answers, but I can report that the fewyoung women I saw rang very well indeed!

If there was any downside to keeping up with the ringers on this day,it was merely that I could not linger as long in these magnificentchurches as I would have liked, drinking in the beauty of thearchitecture and the art, and enjoying the music—mass was inprogress everywhere! The opportunity to visit the ringing at VeronaCathedral turned out to be vastly more special than anticipated. Welearned from Matteo, the evening's Master for the ringing, that theCathedral bells are rung only about 15 times per year, being situatedin the City Center and subject to local noise abatement regulations.The exception being made coincidentally during our visit was, ofcourse, for the Feast of Pentecost.

For the Veronese ringing “performances” (concerti) that Isaw, the bells were raised more or less at the same time, but not inpeal. When all bells were up, rounds were begun. The pace was slowand stately, typical for heavier bells. A conductor, who usually wasnot ringing a bell, shouted out the number(s) of the bells which wereto ring—a type of called changes, if you will. Occasionally, 2or more bells were called to ring at the same time, using specialnames for combinations of bells to facilitate the communication.Being so different from the quiet English tradition, the calling atfirst seemed rather chaotic, but it is actually fittingly Italian,spontaneous and vibrant. And the striking, well, it was generally topnotch, spot on.

If I understood correctly, there is so far no method ringing being“performed” around Verona, but some of the area ringersreportedly are learning PB minor on handbells. Their interactionswith British ringers both in England and in Italy are definitelyimpacting their traditions.

My tower visits in Verona may always remain my most fondly-remembered,certainly the most exotic, even though I never took a rope there. Thephysical, enthusiastic ambience of the effort and the palpableexpectation of ringing well captured what I love most about ringing,after all. Before last goodbyes outside the Cathedral, we had anopportunity to chat with the handsome Matteo who, day's duty welldischarged, relaxed a bit and became both charmingly amiable andconsiderably more fluent in English. “First, it's thepassion” he said, apparently by way of explanation. Then,“No, no. First, it's the service, and then the passion.”Spoken like a true ringer, from almost any tradition.