An Armenian monastery (south-east Venice)

My interest in the monastery is a result of two years studying the Armenian language. It was the unique and neatly formed script that first enchanted me. The script plays host to a distinctively crunchy vocabulary that is not only satisfying to pronounce, but also has a very rich usage in the realms of literature, poetry and theatre. The language belongs to an ancient culture that is considered as both Caucasian and European.

Of course, I'm not in the Republic of Armenia but in Italy. However, the Armenian people have a fascinating modern history that has resulted in a diaspora spread across the world. It is a claim of my Armenian teacher that wherever you go in the world, Armenians will be found. This is certainly true on the Venetian island of San Lazzaro, arguably the most important place in Europe for Armenians.

The island consists only of the monastery, its gardens, and a verdant courtyard, belonging to the Mekhitarists, a branch of Armenian Catholic monks. The original order of seventeen monks arrived on the island in 1717 to build the monastery, although the church already stood from the island's previous use as a leper colony. The hole in the church's wall through which the lepers used to listen to mass has long since been filled in.

I am led to other parts of the monastery inhabited by today's monks. In the dining hall, a painting of the Last Supper stretches across the back wall and looms hauntingly over the monks as they eat. It is a feeling of great satisfaction, having been turned away from seeing Da Vinci's version of the painting in Milan, to stand here and feast my eyes on this rendition by Pietro Novello.

The entire monastery is filled with such treasures. The library houses over 150,000 volumes of historical, literary and religious works translated by the monks into Armenian. The most prized manuscripts are housed in a modern rotunda adjoining the library. It has a domed roof, built in such a way that anyone stood below it will hear a surprisingly loud echo of their own voice, despite sounding like a whisper to others in the room.