Bezos Wedding Puts Venice’s Soul in the Spotlight
VENICE, Italy — As gondolas glide through murky canals and laundry flaps between Renaissance palazzos, this sinking city braces for its latest close-up: the wedding of Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sánchez. The billionaire power couple has vowed to spotlight Venice’s endangered artisanal traditions, sourcing 80% of their late-June wedding provisions from local makers of Murano glass and centuries-old pastries. But beyond the glamour, a bitter divide festers. “No Bezos” banners now hang from the Rialto Bridge, as residents accuse the world’s third-richest man of turning their home into a billionaire’s playground.
The Artisan Embrace
At Rosa Salva, Venice’s oldest pastry shop, sixth-generation baker Antonio Rosa Salva dusts cornmeal onto zaletti cookies—a humble treat born in the 1500s. His team prepares gift bags brimming with buttery bussolai biscuits (once fisherman’s rations) for the couple’s 200 guests. “We maintain the old recipes with love,” Salva says, viewing the wedding as a lifeline for traditions threatened by mass tourism. Across the Grand Canal, Laguna B glass studio director Marcantonio Brandolini oversees handblown creations for the event. Each undulating, rainbow-hued piece emerges from furnaces where artisans have worked since 1291. “This isn’t about tourism,” Brandolini insists. “It’s about proving our craft still breathes.”
The Backlash Builds
Not everyone shares their enthusiasm. Teacher Marta Sottoriva fastens protest banners reading “Venice is worn out!” near St. Mark’s Square. “Our city is sold to the highest bidder,” she fumes, citing George Clooney’s 2014 wedding as the start of a trend that freezes local life. Last week, activists scaled the San Giorgio bell tower to unfurl a scarlet “✗ BEZOS” sign. The anger stems from deeper wounds: 48,000 residents now share the city with 51,000 tourist beds, while day-trippers paying a new €5 entry tax crowd alleys like cattle chutes.
The Battle Lines
Mayor Luigi Brugnaro dismisses critics as “shameful,” pledging normal city operations during the June 24-26 festivities. “It’s an honor they chose Venice,” he beams, noting the island of San Giorgio—rumored ceremony site—hosted the G7 summit without disruption. Yet opponents demand Bezos address Venice’s crises: 1,000 abandoned affordable homes, rising sea levels, and the exodus of young locals. “He could restore those houses with pocket change,” scoffs council member Giovanni Andrea Martini.
The Venice Paradox
As water taxis ferry Katy Perry and Ivanka Trump to €9,000-a-night suites, the wedding crystallizes a global debate: Can luxury events sustain heritage without eroding it? Brandolini argues yes, citing Laguna B’s 14 young employees—proof craft economies can thrive. But Sottoriva plans protests for the wedding day, declaring, “We’re tired of being actors in our own Disneyland.” For better or worse, as Bezos and Sánchez exchange vows, they’ll unwittingly embody Venice’s fight for its soul—one zaletti cookie at a time.