Traditionally held in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, in July, the Giglio Feast (aka the Feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel) takes Italian festivals to the next level with the lifting of a six ton, 4 story tall statue.
The Giglio statue being lifted on the left; the pirate ship being lifted on the right.
Childhood in an Italian American family contains it’s fair share of visits to Italian feasts. And (hence the term “feast”) what’s better at an Italian Feast than the food? Sausage and peppers sandwiches dripping with juice, zeppole steaming from a paper bag blanketed in white powdered sugar like snow, cannolis with freshly fried shells bursting with sweet and tangy cream. All these foods can call any good Italian Feast home, and I will happily take time out of any day of the week, as I did this past Sunday, to indulge in these tasty treats. But while there’s no doubt that Italian feasts nearly always center around food, the Our Lady of Mount Carmel festival in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, now combined with the Giglio Festival, has its own unique flavor and flair unlike any other feast I’ve been to. And that flair comes in the form of two huge statues that over 100 men hoist up onto their shoulders to perform the “Dance of the Giglio.”
Hot powdered sugar coated zeppole; my mouth was watering over that sausage and peppers sandwich.
“Dee Best” zeppole and calzone dough being rolled out.
The “Dance of the Giglio” is traditionally performed with two different statues. One is tall and thin, adorned with flowers, angels and religious iconography, standing over four stories and weighing around 6 tons – that’s the Giglio. The other is a huge pirate ship, probably larger than a pickup truck, with little kids riding in the captains seat throwing confetti onto the spectators below. And both statues are complete with full bands playing the “O’ Giglio’e Paradiso” – the song of the Giglio – aboard. Family, friends, and newcomers look on as the Italian American men of Williamsburg, Brooklyn strain and sweat while lifting these statues into the air, only to bounce, spin, and dance around all with over 4 tons on their shoulders.
Men lift the Giglio statue onto their shoulders
The Giglio dancing in action.
Walking with the ship.
As to be expected, the Giglio Feast itself has quite the colorful past. The Italian immigrants that originally came to Williamsburg were from Nola, Italy. The people of Nola, known as Nolani, brought over the tradition of the Giglio Festival as a way of celebrating their patron saint, Saint Paolino. The legend of how the Giglio, a hugely tall statue adorned with angels and flowers, came to symbolize Saint Paolino goes as follows: In 410 AD Nola was overrun by pirates (also hence the inclusion of a pirate ship in the celebration). In the chaos, Bishop Paolino fled with the children of the town into the countryside.
A man commemorates the Giglio statue on one side of his calf, Padre Pio on the other.
Bishop Paolino returned only to find that all the young men of Nola had been taken by the pirates and sold into slavery, including the son of a sobbing widow that he came upon. His heart was so broken by the widow that he offered himself into slavery in place of her son. When a Turkish sultan heard of his courage and self-sacrifice, he negotiated the freedom of not only Bishop Paolino but all his countrymen – his paesani. The town greeted the freed men with a festival and a showering of lilies – gigli in Italian – and this was the first celebration of the Giglio Festival. Over the following years, the people of Nola competed to produce the best display of lilies for the festival, and these sensational displays are what eventually led to the construction of the Giglio statue itself. You can read the full story of the Giglio, along with learn about all the traditions that go along with it, on the OLMC Feast website.
Stand back! Men moving the Giglio.
The Gigilio Festival really needs to be experienced to be fully understood. A sensory overload of sights, sounds, smells, and feelings – both physical and emotional – truly bring the festival to life. Before each lift, a chorus of voices erupts into cheers as the next “lift leader” is announced. The newest leader makes a heartfelt speech about lifting for his father or grandfather who lifted before him, and his father’s father or grandfather who lifted before him. Family members who have passed away are brought new life as loved ones remember them through laughing, drinking, telling stories, and of course dedicating the lifting of the Giglio to them – much like my own Italian American family, minus the 6 ton statue lifting.
Pushing the Giglio through the streets.
The men clasp hands for extra strength.
The ground itself trembles when the statues are set back down off the shoulders of the men, and they immediately erupt into hugs as heartfelt words of congratulations and comradery are exchanged. One man shouts out in laughing anguish that confetti has landed in his beer, but does not hesitate to reach into the cup, remove a clump of the wet paper, and proceedes to take a huge swig. At times I would attempt to make my way through a group of just-relieved lifting men, only to find myself emerged on the other side with the skin on my arms wet with the sweat that had soaked through their t shirts and onto me.
Confetti soars through the air thrown from children aboard the ship.
It is certainly easy to get swept up into the emotion and excitement of the Giglio Feast; I certainly found myself swept up to the point where I didn’t get all that upset about some random guy’s sweat on my arms. While I tried to capture what truly is the pure emotion of the festival in my photographs, there really is no way to experience the Giglio Festival without being there. And so I’ll leave you with this parting thought: if you ever find yourself in Williamsburg in mid-July, the Giglio Festival – both in terms of food and people – will certainly not disappoint.
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