Il Palio : A Race of Rivalry

What do a Snail and a Wave have in common?
What about a Giraffe and a Caterpillar?
A Tower and a Shell?

In the Tuscan city of Siena, the answer is simple: they are contrade.

This city’s sprawling hilltop streets are parceled out into 17 distinct and fiercely proud historical neighborhoods, or contrade - each bestowed with a church, crest, colors, and flag. To be born into a contrada, be it Giraffa (Giraffe), Drago (Dragon), or Nicchio (Shell), means to be baptized in its church, to bear its colors, and to represent its history at festivals and ceremonies of distinction. It is this engrained fealty to community and even familial lineage which makes the city’s famous bi-annual horse race, il Palio, an event charged with deep emotion and immense rivalry.

Set around Siena’s Piazza del Campo, the Palio has been run in one iteration or another as far back as 1239. With 17 districts and only 10 slots available per race, a random draw is conducted to select the favored participants each season; and from here the competition grows fierce. Jockeys are vetted and horses carefully chosen to shoulder the destiny and honor of each neighborhood. The pressure to deliver a victory is immense, and as a bareback race the risk of injury for both
horse and rider only compounds the tension.

Leading up to race day, ceremonies and trial runs fill the calendar. Participating contrade spend the week marching and singing through their streets, brandishing their colors and stirring the hearts of those close enough to hear the call. Colorful uniforms, flag bearers, and drumlines often announce the arrival of an impending prova (trial run).

Six of these prove are conducted inside Piazza del Campo in advance of the Palio to allow horse and rider to attune to the dirt track and for officials to establish the lineup. Then, the night before race day each participating neighborhood hosts a communal dinner at their local church. Long tables are carried out into the open air, their lengths pressed end to end filling piazzas and alleyways. Benches and folding chairs emerge from homes and community centers, and under the warm shimmer of summer stars and glowing landers, the residents of the contrade feast, toast, and celebrate the arrival of dawn and their hopeful victory.

Come race day, jockey and horse are both escorted into the local church for blessing - a moment widely attended to by most of the residents with music, fanfare, and a healthy dose of prayer. From here, neighborhoods march and cheer the duo down towards the swelling crowds of Piazza del Campo.

The running of the Palio itself is a quick affair; with only 3 short laps around the track, victory is decided within a matter of seconds. It is getting to the starting line, however, that proves the greatest challenge. In keeping with the historical tradition of the race, the start is marked by cannonfire and rope drop, but only after the patient practice of bringing each horse, one-by-one, up to their starting position. It isn’t uncommon for horses to jostle each other out of place here, nor for rival jockeys to jeer and taunt their counterpart into distraction; often resulting in the laborious setting and re-setting of the lineup. The race begins once each horse is in proper order and the final contender, with strategic intent, begins their approach to the starting line.

With the drop of the rope and the blast of cannon fire, horses charge forward across the dirt-packed track. They lean precariously into tight corners padded with mattresses and shoot across straightaways to the uproar of the crowd. Medics stand by ready to tend to collisions and falls, as bystanders watch on bated breath praying for breakaways. A fallen rider bears no impact on outcome here - as the horse is the true champion of this event, and a riderless victory is a victory nonetheless.

It is over within seconds, and to the champion contrada comes the prize of the painted silk banner (cencio) and the honor of irrefutable pride. Horse and rider are flooded by the crowd, and the winning contrada proceeds to Siena’s cathedral to sing prayers of thanks; tears of joy and gratitude streak the faces of many as they shuffle up the aisle draped in their flag. This tender moment of bliss for the champion is contrasted sharply by the heartbreak and even anger of those left in the wake of loss. Like any competitive event, accusations and disputes over the outcome are to be expected and a Palio defeat only serves to fan the centuries old flame of a number of historic rivalries amongst the contrade.

As with all forms of living history, il Palio is a tradition continually confronted by modern thought and values. While many consider a visit to Siena during il Palio a “must have” experience, others find the event controversial, with animal welfare, human safety, and regulation reform being hotly debated. “When you know better you do better”, as the saying goes, but for the contrade of Siena, tradition is a force not easily dismissed.

Regardless of the root cause - be it fanfare or fear, the atmosphere of il Palio is undeniably electric and a memorable experience to bear witness to in person. And for the contrade of Siena, it remains as a deep rooted connection linking them across centuries of history to their district and the residents that waved the flag before them.