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The Florian Cafe in Venice, founded in 1720, has survived everything: wars, revolutions, floods. Now it’s about to close for Corona. Also because the state lets him down.
The Caffè Florian in Piazza San Marco: It was open in summer and autumn, but of course comparatively few people, and especially by Italians.
Photo: Simone Padovani (Getty Images)
The terraces are empty, the cafeteria chairs are stacked in towers. In Venice’s Piazza San Marco they take stock of a desperate business year, which even the most virulent opponents of mass tourism in the city could not have wished for. Corona threatens seemingly imperishable institutions in the square, including those that have always been ruined by the magnificent location and its worldwide reputation, one for all: Caffè Florian, founded on December 29, 1720. No war, no epidemic, no flood has had their Operation interrupted, much less threatened. “If things continue like this,” said the head Marco Paolini of the newspaper “Corriere del Veneto”, “then we will close completely: Piazza San Marco is dead.”
Three hundred years. The Italian Post had printed a special postage stamp for the big birthday: Rate B, 1.10 euros. You can see the window of the Senate of Florian, the Doge’s Palace is reflected in it. A big party was also planned, there were many reasons to do it. Last year, the company had a turnover of eight million euros with seventy permanent employees. Especially guests from afar, from Japan, China, America, UAE, liked to spend a little more to be served by waiters in white livery with silver platters.
“We are still alive, but in agony,” says Marco Paolini, the operator of Caffè Florian. Here in a recording in June, after the reopening after the first closing, with a representative of the municipal administration.
Photo: Simone Padovani (Getty Images)
That was before the pandemic. The birthday party was canceled, the entire workforce works short-time. Paolini says: “We are still alive, but in agony.”
The Florian opened in late 1720, a few days later than originally planned, due to bureaucratic complications, even then. That was not insignificant, because the carnival started in December and the carnival is time for business. Venice was still a republic, a very serene one, so the new cafeteria in the most beautiful square in the city also had a great name: “Alla Venezia Trionfante”, To Venice Triumphant. The Venetians, however, always called him Florian, with a Venetian accent on the a, because the owner’s name was Floriano: Floriano Francesconi, a businessman. It was renamed after his death.
Waiters in white livery, all served on a silver platter, in one of Caffè Florian’s splendid rooms.
Photo: Simone Padovani (Getty Images)
There were not many coffees yet, this “black drink” had to first fight for its success. The Florian had rented at the Neue Prokuratien, the palaces of the Venetian building authorities. Initially there were only two rooms, then they were expanded to include the Sala Cinese, the Sala del Senato and the Sala Orientale. All opulently decorated with heavy paintings, gilded borders, mirrors, marble, and velvet-covered sofas.
The Serenissima may have been destroyed, the republic may have fallen, but the confusion of the world could not harm the place. Of course, it was not the only radiant house in the square, but it was the oldest. The façade facing the square has only been very gently renovated over the centuries. Florian’s lyrics? As rescued from semi-antiquity. Italians are masters of careful renovation, legislators and authorities already assure you: you bow to your own history.
They were all there, Goethe and Dickens, Rousseau and Proust
All the celebrities who came to Venice passed through Florian, Goethe and Dickens, Casanova and Byron, Rousseau and Proust. Charlie Chaplin, Ernest Hemingway, Jean Cocteau, Clark Gable, Andy Warhol. And politicians, many politicians. At first they were mostly men, but fortunately customs changed in the 20th century. It is said that Riccardo Selvatico, the mayor and poet of the time, had the idea in Florian to bring the entire art world to Venice every few years. That was in 1895. The germ of the biennials is in the caffè, and that alone should give the restaurant at least eternal life.
“We are being punished for our past success.”
But precisely the stubbornness of the Italian state is pushing Florian to his existential needs. Operators pay 710,000 euros in rent per year, 210,000 of which go to the state. The private owners, Paolini says, were generous and reduced the amounts owed. The Agenzia del Demanio, the state real estate, insists on the sums of the lease. It is also unfortunate that the Florian pays for his popularity: because he made more than five million euros in 2019, he is not even entitled to a series of grants due to the pandemic. That is absurd, says Paolini. “We are being punished for our past success.”
For last year, he now expects a loss of 6.5 million euros. This also includes the damage caused by the record flood in 2019, hundreds of thousands, and there is also a lack of money for repairs. Banks help, shareholders bring their own funds. And the online chocolate, tea, and perfume business makes up for it a bit. But that is not enough to survive, at least not in the long term, which the state would require. “When we close,” says Paolini, “not only does a café disappear, it also closes a chapter in European cultural history.” Three hundred years.
