The Jewish Ghetto - where the word was born in Venice

In a nutshell: the Ghetto is where the word itself was born, in 1516 - a sealed island where Venice's Jews lived for three centuries, building five synagogues on top of tall tenements. Today it holds the Museo Ebraico, two Holocaust memorials and the calmest campo in the city. Back to the Cannaregio overview or on to the churches.

The Jewish Ghetto

'Ghetto' is a Venetian word, and all the ghettos of the world inherit their name from the small island completely surrounded by a ring of water where the Jews of Venice resided. During the Middle Ages Jews could trade in Venice, though only grudgingly, and residence itself was not allowed until 1385 - and even then under severe restrictions and special levies. In 1516 a compromise was struck: Jews were confined to an undesirable quarter cut off from the rest of Venice, an island that could be sealed off easily, beside a disused cannon foundry where the casting - the getto - of metals was carried out. The term then spread through Europe as the word for any segregated quarter. Immigrants from across the continent swelled the community to some 5,000 by the 1600s, and, confined within their tiny quarter, the only way to grow was up: six-storey 'skyscrapers' rose, and they still stand today. The five synagogues were raised on top of those tall tenements - since Jewish custom forbids living above a place of worship, the rooftops were the only sensible use of precious land. Dealings with the rest of Venice were double-edged: those who lent money were dealt with harshly, while merchants won consideration and respect. Both bridges of the island were locked at night, and the only people allowed through were Jewish doctors answering calls to treat Venetians. Eventually the community was granted more land and spread into adjacent blocks. Napoleon opened the ghetto's gates in 1797, ending its isolation, and full equality arrived only when the Italian republic was born, in the 1860s.

In the 17th century Campo del Ghetto Nuovo was ringed by 70 shops, the whole of Venetian Jewish commerce squeezed into this single spot. Venice's Jewish population today numbers only about 500, and just a few dozen of them actually live in the ghetto. The campo keeps its three old cistern wells and a quiet air these days. Look for the Casa Israelitica di Riposo, the Jewish retirement and community centre, flanked by two Holocaust memorials by Arbit Blatas, the Lithuanian sculptor: his monument of twisted wire, with its bronze plaques, stands on the exact spot where the Nazis gathered 200 Jews for deportation, and only eight came back. For the classic view of this 'fortress ghetto' - tall tenements rising straight from the canal, a little bridge and a gateway that could be sealed shut at night - leave the campo through the Sotoportego del Gheto Novo.

From the station, five minutes' walk puts you at the Ponte de Guglie spanning the Cannaregio Canal; cross it, turn left, and some 50 yards further north a small covered alleyway, the Sotoportego del Gheto Vechio, passes between a pharmacy and the Gam-Gam kosher restaurant, winding through the newer Jewish quarter and over a second bridge into the historic core, Campo del Ghetto Nuovo. Just before the second bridge you can call at the community-run information desk at #1222 on Calle del Gheto Vechio - open Sunday to Friday 10:00–17:30 from October to May, closed Saturday (+39 041 523 7565, www.jvenice.org).

Within an extremely compact urban fabric you can make out the domes of the synagogues - called Scuole for the function they performed - almost all carved out of pre-existing buildings and distinguished by the series of tall windows on the top floor. The three oldest stand in the campo itself: the Scuola Grande Tedesca (1528–29, renewed in the 18th century), the Scuola Canton (1531–32) and the Scuola Italiana (1575, renewed at the beginning of the 18th century). The two still in use, more recent, stand in the zone of the Ghetto Novissimo: the Scuola Levantina, renewed in the 18th century to a project by Baldassarre Longhena, and the Scuola Spagnola. Only two of the five remain active, and you can spot them from the square by their five windows. They can only be visited on the guided tours of the neighbourhood organized by the Jewish Museum, in English at €12, typically Sunday to Friday at 11:00, 12:00, 14:00 and 15:00, with no tours on Saturday and Jewish holidays (reservations: [email protected]).

The Museo Ebraico, the Jewish Museum, is compact but thoughtfully arranged: silver menorahs, embroidered Torah-scroll mantles and a succinct bilingual display on the city's Jewish community, with a bookstore and a small café. Entry costs €10, open Sunday to Thursday 10:30–17:30, Friday until 15:00, with earlier closing at 17:00 from October to May; closed on Saturdays and Jewish holidays throughout the year; visitors should dress modestly. The museum is sometimes closed for restoration, so check the website before planning your visit (www.museoebraico.it, +39 041 715 359; temporary office at Calle del Forno 1107).

Cross the Ponte del Ghetto Vecchio and you reach the quarter of the wealthier Sephardic families, who raised two more synagogues here. The Scola Levantina, raised in 1541, has 17th-century interiors often credited to the hand of Baldassare Longhena; across the way, the Scola Spagnola, begun around 1580, is the Ghetto's largest house of worship, its exuberant baroque interior rich in marble and carved wood. Both remain in use - the cosier Levantina in winter, the airier Spagnola in summer - and the museum's walking tours usually take in one of them. Behind the Spagnola, off Calle del Forno, a walled orchard of vines, figs, olives and pomegranates stood for more than three centuries; in 2018 the plot was replanted as the Giardino Segreto, the Secret Garden, with herbs, trees and plants of the Old Testament. In the Ghetto Vecchio, the Panificio Volpe bakery bakes Jewish-Venetian treats such as impade, almond biscuits, and chocolate-filled orecchiette di Amman; a plaque at No 1131 records a 1704 decree barring converted Jews from re-entering the quarter, and hinges near the street's end are all that remain of the old gates. The Museo Ebraico itself, closed for extensive restoration work, was due to reopen in 2025 with its 15th-century parochets, elegant silverware, Renaissance-era volumes printed in the Ghetto and rare textiles attesting to Venetian weaving and Jewish embroidery; the enlarged museum adds a surviving 16th-century Ghetto home, a library and a roof terrace above the square.