By Sally Moe

It’s late June in the biggest city in the littlest state in the union. Sunset bathes the evening in gentle tones of mauve and gold as the skyline lights up around us. Somber volunteers, clad in funereal black, motor down Providence River in boats named after heroes of Greek mythology, stopping every 20 feet or so to ignite the nearly 100 floating pyres. There’s a gravitas to this simple act that sets the tone for the entire evening.

Sparks caper on the evening breeze, and mingle with the sound of crackling flames and the rich aroma of smoking cedar. The next day my clothes will smell like barbecue.

This experience is WaterFire®, Rhode Island artist Barnaby Evans’ interactive water sculpture installed on downtown Providence’s three rivers. And not a thing about it, including the haunting music, is left to chance. Programs list the selections—which include Fauré, Philip Glass, and Dead Can Dance, among others—and their times down to the minute.

Night has descended. After a perfect dinner on Café Nuovo’s riverfront terrace with a front row-seat view of the festivities, it’s time to board our gondola. In the classic straw hat and striped T shirt, the gondolier smoothly guides his five passengers onto a sleek, black, brass-trimmed gondola that came all the way from Venice.

There is a hush in conversation. Time seems to stop. Warmly cloaked in one of life’s rare perfect moments, we float silently downriver, drinking in the starlit sky, glowing fires and glittering cityscape reflected in the river. Flutes are filled with champagne. We toast the balmy weather, the picturesque skyline, the evocative music. We take photos of one another. For a nanosecond, grinning faces freeze brilliantly in the velvety darkness.

We pass beneath a low, arching stone bridge. Baroque chandeliers hang at both sides, studded with drippy ivory candles. Hidden from the street above, they cast soft pools of light on the walkways underneath. How Phantom of the Opera. Why haven’t I done this before?

Things weren’t always so great. Reeling from a post-WWII downturn that drained the already struggling city of opportunities, Providence was gripped by low self esteem and a gritty urban malaise. Which makes its turnaround all the more impressive. The lion’s share of credit should go to Vincent Cianci, the notorious yet much loved former mayor. After some 21 years as mayor, his Tony Soprano-like methods finally landed him in prison in 2002 for racketeering conspiracy, thanks to a herculean federal government offensive dubbed “Operation Plunderdome.” Nonetheless, his accomplishments for the city were impressive: to name a few, he uncovered and redirected the two rivers running through downtown to enrich the city’s ambiance and social scene, restored City Hall and saved the once-opulent Loew’s Movie Palace (now the fully restored Performing Arts Center) from demolition, and added the Providence Place Mall and the Convention Center to the downtown profile. There is still debate over whether Cianci’s numerous civic improvements outweighed his misbehavior, but there is no denying that it is not the same city it was 30 years ago. And the malaise is retreating. In its place are a growing number of attractive public spaces, trendy shopping districts, a thriving arts and cultural scene, and scads of terrific restaurants—all seasoned by the city’s vintage 369-year history, diverse population and marvelous architecture.

So pay a visit to this grande dame of American cities. Cruise the harbor in the 110-ft. Continental Sloop Providence. Explore Federal Hill, the city’s vibrant Little Italy (start early, start hungry, and follow your nose). Immerse yourself in WaterFire, and take the gondola—that one’s non-negotiable. Poke through the Culinary Archives & Museum for who knew? culinary lore and artifacts. Take the Trolley Tour. Visit the Arcade, the first indoor mall built in the U.S. Shop some more on Wickenden Street. Try a new restaurant every night (you won’t run out). See a performance of the excellent Trinity Repertory Company. Tour the State House.

Just don’t expect to be the same person when you return home.

RHODE ISLAND STATEHOUSE
A Methusaleh by American standards, Providence was officially born in 1636, and is believed to have the largest percentage of buildings on the National Historic Register of any American city.

One of those buildings is the Rhode Island Statehouse, constructed between 1895 and 1904, pictured on the preceding page. It boasts the fourth largest self-supporting marble dome in the world, after St. Peter’s Basilica, the Minnesota State Capitol and the Taj Mahal.

Atop that dome is The Independent Man: 11 feet and 500 lbs. of bronze fortitude by artist George Brewster. Gripping a spear with his right hand, and an anchor—the state symbol—with his left, The Independent Man has weathered hurricanes, blizzards and some 27 lightning strikes.

Tough peasant stock.

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