Contentious Calatrava
On my walk to meet Alberto at the Piazzale Roma parking garage on Wednesday morning before our trip to Lake Garda, I had to cross the Ponte della Costituzione, 
the brand new fourth bridge over the Grand Canal. Designed by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava and finished less than a year ago, the bridge was in early days dubbed the “Ponte di Calatrava” by Venetians, a name that I think is going to stick.
Anyway, I’ve been over the Calatrava Bridge a few times, and it turns out that I hate it. Why? Well, for one, its pedestrian surfaces are made of concrete and glass, and when wet, the glass becomes slippery. Pretty dumb! Another problem: the bridge, opened in 2008, is not accessible by those in wheelchairs. It could have been designed as a gently sloped ramp without steps, judging from the size of the site in which it was built, but it wasn’t.
Which leads me to the steps, which are definitely the worst part of the Calatrava Bridge. Virtually all the other bridges in Venice,
designed by anonymous architects hundreds of years ago who understood their obligation to Venetian society in a way Calatrava obviously doesn’t, can be passed over without paying much attention to the steps beneath one’s feet. That is, the steps are all the same size, height, and are equally spaced. Like climbing a staircase, you don’t have to think too hard about where you’re putting your feet. Makes sense, right?
Not to Calatrava. Almost every step on his bridge changes relative to the one before. The angle from horizontal varies (that’s right, the tops of the steps are not perfectly flat), as does the front-to-back spacing from one step to the next. And sometimes, seemingly at random, there are larger flat steps that seem intended to trip up inattentive pedestrians.
Crossing the bridge is a test of concentration. You’re so busy making sure you don’t trip that you cross the Grand Canal without even realizing it, missing the great view. The constantly varying steps are an ergonomic disaster, and the slippery glass surfaces are a safety hazard.
Unlike some Venetians, I don’t mind that a bridge was actually constructed – it’s convenient, despite its proximity to the Scalzi Bridge. But the bridge, as implemented, is irrelevant and severely flawed. At least the Venetians’ name for the bridge assigns the blame squarely where it belongs, with Santiago Calatrava.
Anyway, I’ve been over the Calatrava Bridge a few times, and it turns out that I hate it. Why? Well, for one, its pedestrian surfaces are made of concrete and glass, and when wet, the glass becomes slippery. Pretty dumb! Another problem: the bridge, opened in 2008, is not accessible by those in wheelchairs. It could have been designed as a gently sloped ramp without steps, judging from the size of the site in which it was built, but it wasn’t.
Which leads me to the steps, which are definitely the worst part of the Calatrava Bridge. Virtually all the other bridges in Venice,
Not to Calatrava. Almost every step on his bridge changes relative to the one before. The angle from horizontal varies (that’s right, the tops of the steps are not perfectly flat), as does the front-to-back spacing from one step to the next. And sometimes, seemingly at random, there are larger flat steps that seem intended to trip up inattentive pedestrians.
Unlike some Venetians, I don’t mind that a bridge was actually constructed – it’s convenient, despite its proximity to the Scalzi Bridge. But the bridge, as implemented, is irrelevant and severely flawed. At least the Venetians’ name for the bridge assigns the blame squarely where it belongs, with Santiago Calatrava.
