Naples | The Daily Norm

Jul 26

From Napoli to Capri, Part 6: Giardini La Mortella

Let’s face it, the mellifluous tones of TV gardener, Monty Don, could prove to be quite persuasive. His TV series Monty Don’s Italian Gardens (and indeed the French alternative) are true staples of our household. On dark wintery days, when all the hope of summer seems far away, we run these DVDs in the background to remind us of happier climates and the seasonal spectacles to come. Over the years, we have been to many of the gardens visited by Monty Don, but one which always evaded us was La Mortella on the island of Ischia, the sumptuous scenes of which are some of the most enchanting of Monty’s Italian exploits. So when Monty told us to go there, what could we do?

Ischia booked, we knew this was going to be priority no.1. So much so that on the day when celebrated our 10th year anniversary, Dominik and I made a beeline for the place. Conceived in 1956 by the late Lady Susana Walton, Argentinian wife of famed British composer, Sir William Walton, the sub-tropical and Mediterranean gardens were a true project of passion, being seeded from almost nothing in the arid volcanic hillside of a rocky promontory overlooking the bay of Forio, and developed into a lush garden of Eden displaying some of the most exquisite varieties of plants from across the globe.

Working with determination and a heavy dose of her Latin spirit, Susana planted enthusiastically and with daring originality, importing plants from all over the world to create a garden quite unlike any other. As the plants took to the perfectly sunny climate of Ischia, so an almost unbroken canopy of verdant leaves spread over the skyline, creating underneath a micro-climate in which tropical varieties could thrive and add vivacious colour.

I speak often of finding paradise, but I must admit that as I strolled through the gardens of La Mortella, I felt we had come closer than ever to finding it. The softness created by sweeping leaves and palms and flowers hanging, nudging and caressing the space at every twist and turn is deeply satisfying. The dappled sunlight passing through vast tropical trees creates a kind of disco-ball like effect, and as if to further refresh and entice the visitors, a series of idyllic fountains and rivets of water are generously scattered throughout the garden, conceived with the help of Russell Page, the famous landscape architect.

The garden takes advantage of the suggested natural landscape, moving and twisting up steep volcanic cliffs to unveil further openings of gardens, each having slightly different themes and offering sumptuous views. I must admit to being less of a fan of the false crocodiles and other such paraphernalia which became more prevalent as the gardens moved skywards, but the overall effect was truly ravishing. We could have stayed there forever.

Today the gardens are run by the William Walton Foundation, and every summer the foundation organises a series of classical music recitals in the gardens in honour of the great composer. We were lucky enough to enjoy a highly emotive and utterly beautiful guitar recital by Neapolitan classical guitarist – Francesco Scelzo – making for the perfect ending to the perfect anniversary spent in yet another Ischian slice of paradise.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2019. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

Jul 19

1 Comment

From Napoli to Capri, Part 4: Catacombs, Chiara, Caravaggio

More than any other district of the city, the Spaccanapoli embodies the spirit of a city emboldened by its own insuperable energy, history and cultural superiority. In Napoli, city of dangerous extremes, crimes of passion, astonishing food and stunning geography, the Spaccanapoli feels like the ancient core of a time-battered city, like the old family grandmother ticking along besides the central hearth. It is an area whose quaint narrow streets are intermittently broken by staggering baroque palazzi; which has so many squares and churches and historical buildings that it feels like an open air museum; but whose array of shops and cafes, all overflowing with locals, demonstrates that this is no still life for the tourists: this is the living, breathing heart of a city which never stops.

But for all the life that courses through its streets, Naples is a city that is morbidly fascinated with death. Whether this obsession acts more like a memento mori – a reminder to seize the day and live to the full (which Neapolitans almost certainly do) is unclear. Whatever the reason, I have never before experienced a place quite so haunted by the ghosts of its past, and by the creepy presence of the dead.

The Catacombs of San Gaudioso

This was no more so than in the Catacombs of San Gaudioso, a dark cavernous place accessible only through a secret trap door in the Basilica of Santa Maria della Sanita. There, in the depths of this once historical burial place, the tombs of the dead were marked not only by painted images of their former selves, but by their real skulls embedded into the wall. Meanwhile, downstairs, the alcoves still remain where bodies would be propped to be drained of their liquid selves, before being buried as a decidedly reduced form.

San Gaudioso was spooky to be sure, but offered a fascinating insight into Naples’ extensive underworld. Back in the sunlight, an oozingly cheesy pumpkin and pancetta pizza in the Piazza del Gesù reinvigorated any spirits which might have been temporarily subdued in the world of the dead, and gave us nourishment and energy in sufficient doses to appreciate the magnificence of two staggering places of worship in the heart of the Spaccanapoli – the Chiesa del Gesu Nuovo, with its diamond-like facade and its staggering golden interior, and the mesmerising Cloisters of Santa Chiara.

The Chiesa del Gesu Nuovo

In Santa Chiara, in particular, we were stunned into submission by the mastery and magnificence which a garden filled with hand-painted majolica tiles embodied. Each depicting pastoral scenes, fruits and floral patterns, the overall effect was dazzling, and was to be a fitting precursor to the many beautiful majolica tiles we were to find decorating the floors of so many homes and hotels in Capri.

The Cloisters of Santa Chiara

But it was back into the gloom for the end of the day… albeit a gloom punctuated by the staggering light created by the undisputed master of light and shadow: Caravaggio. I have long wanted to see his masterpiece, The Seven Works of Mercy, in person. After all, I have traipsed across Europe admiring so much of the oeuvre of this incredible bad-boy< artist. But as is always the case with a Caravaggio painting, properly lit and embedded within the surroundings he intended, seeing this work in the Pio Monte della Misericordia was quite an experience, and once which was a fitting conclusion for this exhilarating day in the Spaccanapoli.

Caravaggio in the flesh

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2019. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

Jul 16

1 Comment

From Napoli to Capri, Part 3: It Continued in Naples

See Naples and die, or so they say… well I suppose we all have to die at some point, but the sight of Naples will not be the thing that finishes me off. For with its fantastic tangle of mad urban bustle, its multi-layered, jam-packed and over-constructed landscapes, its fiery hot-blooded temperament, and its mix of the baroque extravaganza with graffiti-strewn slum, Naples is to my mind a city to see, to experience and to savour.

After the historical still-life that we experienced in Pompeii, we thirsted for something more akin to modern day madness. And where better to find it than in Naples, the city that never sleeps, never tires, but bustles with all the energy of its rather unstable tectonic foundations. So on this second day of our Naples adventure, we took to the streets of the Spaccanapoli, the Vomero, the Via Toledo and the Decumano Maggiore, each regions of a city exuding more character than I did sweat in the searing heat of day.

From vast churches and convents to spooky catacombs and cocktail bars, we covered an awful lot as we continued our tour of Naples. But let us savour those characterful streets for now. This post concentrates on the fabric of the city, on those splendid baroque spectacles, on the multi-layered cityscapes constructed of palazzo upon pauper’s house, on the cramped shops selling sfogliatelli, and the cafes whose steaming hot terraces proved to be the perfect place for an extra strong negroni. See Naples… and live!

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2019. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

Jul 4

Honeymoon and Hotels: Mareluna Napoli

Four years ago, I started what was to become a collection of gouache images of hotels. From my first image painted during our honeymoon, of our pretty pink little bedroom in the ravishing Colombe d’Or Hotel in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, with the iconic Calder mobile visible through the window and my painting tools spread on the wooden desk, a story of images was born – images which have since gone on the capture countless bedrooms and views from the many incredible hotels which have played host to us on our holidays.

As we arrived in Naples and looked onto the most ravishing views of the sea and the Castel dell’Ovo, I knew that the next chapter in my narrative of honeymoon and hotels was just around the corner, and I painted this work: Mareluna Napol, named after the hotel of the same name.

This small painting is no traditional capture of the Neapolitan landscape, but in its haphazardness drunkenness, vivacity and freshness of colour, and that centralised seaside view, it is a very much a homage to Naples. All that is missing is a pizza! But true to form, this is very much an image of our hotel room in the Mareluna Suite de Charme, whose wooden floor and ceiling contrasted dramatically with the fresh white walls and retro curved plastic ceiling light, while its wrought iron balcony so perfectly framed that resplendent view in all its Mediterranean majesty.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2019. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

Jul 4

2 Comments

From Napoli to Capri, Part 1: It Started in Naples

Just like the opening scenes of our favourite Sophia Loren/ Clark Gable film, It Started in Naples (1960), our magnificent trip from Napoli to Capri also began in Naples, on the Bay of Naples in fact. And in parallel with the first scene of that film, our first view of Naples was over the iconic Castel dell’Ovo with the silhouette of the mighty Vesuvius looming up behind it, and the silky blue waters of the Mediterranean sea flowing in around it.

This was to be the beginning of a mighty adventure in what must be one of the most beautiful areas of the world; a stretch of mountainous, fertile, stunning scenery full of contrast: from the bustling, sometimes menacing but beautiful Campanian capital of Naples, to the tranquil paradise of Ischia, and the fashionista’s paradise of Capri.

Yet it all started in Naples, and that opening scene was framed, liked the most dramatic of theatrical montages, by the drapery of curtains and a proscenium arch, namely the window (and balcony) of our very own room with a view. That room was to be enjoyed at the Mareluna Suite de Charme, a charming little boutique hotel stationed on the first floor of an old Neapolitan palazzo, and from there, we could indulge in the daily blockbuster of the Bay of Naples awakening, the sea glistening, and the outline of Capri emerging out of the mist of the horizon, while in the closer foreground, locals would take a morning dip in the warm waters, and chat/ yell along the seaside promenade.

That same scene was to occupy a prominent place in our admiration of Naples, and this first, photographic post from our holiday is something of a prologue to the story that will follow. It is a collection of our first impressions – the view by sunset, and in the morning; the nearby Castel dell’Ovo and the Port of Santa Lucia, and the tenement blocks clinging precariously to steep hillsides nearby. And of course that looming, dramatic shadow of Vesuvius, an omnipresent backdrop to a city which thrives on its fertile soils, but is always living on the edge of disaster, knowing that a volcanic end is, like the sword of Damocles, a constant and real risk.

Perhaps the presence of Vesuvius is why Naples feels both dangerous but alive, full of hot fiery tempers but a tangible vivacity for life. It’s a feeling which energises Naples, and makes it one of the most interesting cities to visit in Italy. Come back soon to the Daily Norm, to find out what happened when we made Naples our base for a few days.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2019. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

Dec 17

9 Comments

No detail too small: the intricate spectacle of a Neapolitan Nativity

In a large number of countries the Nativity scene (Belem in Spain, Presepe in Italy) is as big a part of the Christmas festivities as the lights switch-on in London’s Oxford Street or the Christmas tree at the centre of a family home. Having gone to Catholic school as a boy, I still remember the prominence with which the Nativity set was placed in the front entrance, and how perplexed I was (and remain) that the teachers remained insistent that the Jesus figure should not be placed in the manger until Christmas Day: but this is a school I thought – who on earth is going to see it during the holidays?

Despite the fact that the tradition of setting out a nativity is centuries old in many a catholic country, the general belief is that it all began in Italy where St Francis of Assisi is credited with creating the first nativity scene in 1223 at Greccio, Italy. There he is said to have recreated the birth of Christ through placing people dressed in the various nativity roles in a cave. A tradition was born, and perhaps for this reason, it is arguable that Italy has remained the predominant master of the nativity craft. This is not least in Naples where, in the famous Via San Gregorio Armeno, the entire street is given over to the craftsmen who make every intricate detail of the characters and setting of the Neapolitan presepe.

While last Christmas I braved the crowds who had crammed their way up the dark side streets of the Spaccanapoli to get a view of this famous Neapolitan craft, this year I have had the fortune to see their masterpieces at far closer a proximity. For here in Palma de Mallorca, but 2 minutes from my flat in an inconspicuous church on the Carrer de San Miquel, there is a Neapolitan gem of its own. Set out across a mountain plane simulated from the supple bark of a cork tree, and comprising a phenomenal range of architectural features and carefully characterised figures, this Nativity demonstrates why the Neapolitan craft remains so renowned. Not a single detail of street life has been missed, from the slimy pig’s head sold by the Butcher, to the bag of eggs swung by the old housewife. What tickles me are the gruesome details of their lined faces, and their masterful expressions – so full of personality you’d swear they were alive.

In fact Palma de Mallorca holds the nativity or Belem dear to its heart, with a trail tracing once fantastic Belem to another across the city. But few could deny that the real brilliance of Belem craft has been mastered by the Neapolitans, as the nativity photos above demonstrate so well.

Jul 16

1 Comment

Positano & beyond | Capri: Part 2 – Geology, Geraniums and a Granita de Limon

There is no denying the unique pull of ritzy glitzy preened and perfected Capri Town, the bustling micro-sized centre of the stunning Neapolitan island of Capri. But beyond the Dolce and Gabbana, the YSL and the Chanel is an island whose real gleaming star is its jaw-droppingly beautiful natural scenery. Capri’s unique landscape is owed solely to its vast mountainous geology. Capri Town for example is a good 20 minute hike up steep stairways that climb one of the island’s two main mountainous peaks and which leave very little room at sea level for a capital town. And it’s because of this wonderful craggy mountain geology that the island is characterised by a series of stunning natural phenomena – the blue lagoon, the Arco Naturale, and the rocks that jut out to sea like characters from mythology.

No sooner had we finished our lunch in Capri Town, we bumped into this breathtaking beauty, for mere metres out of the town’s quickly dissipating urbanisation, you are led out into verdant bucolic lanes which simply take your breath away. Of course today much of these areas are overtaken with luxury hotels, but even those maintain huge lush gardens, and the result is an island bursting with almost tropical greenery and the vibrant pinks of abundant bourganvilla.

However to see flowers at their best and some of the most amazing views of the island, we headed to the Giardini di Augusto, a small shady set of manicured gardens once owned by German steel industrialist Friedrich Krupp, but begrudgingly given up when he was forced to leave the island in shame after his romantic liasons with local fishermen came to light! Today the gardens are given over to the pleasure of tourists and locals alike, and what pleasure they provide. But the most dazzling aspect of these gardens was not what could be found within, but seen from their periphery. Views so stunning of the turquoise waters and rocky outcrops jutting out to sea below that only photos can really tell of their true beauty…

In the garden…

and the views from within…

From one paradise to another, we headed over to the other side of Capri Town, embarking on a walk which at times seemed mad in the searing heat of day, but which was happily broken with a welcome lemon granita enjoyed over lavish sea views, and made all the more worth it by the final destination: the Arco Naturale. I’ve seen some views in my time but this was just something else. A huge rocky arch jutting out to see forming a window onto a little glittering bay below. This huge mass of limestone rock looked to be teetering on a knife edge – at its thinnest point, large cracks could already be seen and it became clear that this natural phenomenon cannot last forever. But this transience made the sight all the more beautiful and we sat and admired it for what seemed like hours.

The Arco Naturale and taking a rest beside the view

Of course there were so many other stunning views seen on our day in Capri, although we barely saw a quarter of the island on our short visit. All too soon the last boat back to Positano was calling, but surely a future visit to Capri will be required. After all, the best things in life are always worth the wait.

Capri fades off into the distance as we head back to Positano

All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2014 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

Jul 14

7 Comments

Positano & beyond | Capri: Part 1 – People, Prices, Paradise

It was of course long ago that I heard of the seductive allure of super-chic Capri, rocky Island paradise beloved of celebrities, royals and couturiers alike. The island, which is just off the Sorrento Peninsula in Italy, was first the beloved of Emperor Tiberius himself, who spent much of his reign luxuriating on the island, and since it has been home to some of the worlds most famous creatives, from John Singer Sargent to DH Lawrence. Of course alongside its innate popularity is also a reputation laced with tales of pompous overpriced fashion boutiques, snobby restaurants and not for the feint hearted lavishly expensive hotels. This reputation both repelled and entranced me, and while I was always procrastinating over whether or not to go, my decision was made up when I watched the delightful 1960s film, It Started in Naples. Starting Sophia Loren and Clark Gable, the film is a tribute to the stunning beauty of its island backdrop, as Capri is made just as much of a star of the film as Loren and Gable themselves. Although itself alluding to Capri’s over popularity amongst tourists, and the capitulation of the island to its predominantly American visitors (the satirical song Tu vuò fa l’americano is performed by Loren in the film), this 60s masterpiece made multiple promises of Capri’s geographical and social allure, and I knew I had to go there.

So keeping Positano on the Amalfi coast as our base (this avoiding at least the expense of Capri hotels) we set off on the morning high speed jet to the island and in under 45 minutes found ourselves approaching a jagged mountainous island so geographically surprising that it looked like an upturned knife searing out of the sea. There in the old harbour were the eye wateringly large luxury yachts (even our jet had cost is a cool €70 for the journey) although happily the scattering of colourful old fishing boats meant this port retained much of its Italian charm.

But the real charm was reserved for Capri town, a 20 minute hot uphill walk (or a more leisurely funicular ride for those who can be bothered to brave the long queue of tourists, and the price). Everything up in the town was like a pristine city in miniature. A half sized campanile with a charming yellow and blue ceramic face, little twisting streets containing small boutiques of the worlds most recognisable names: Gucci, D&G, Valentino, Prada, Versace, and at the centre of it all, a bustling central square, not even an 8th of the size of Madrid’s Plaza Mayor or London’s Leicester Square, but bustling and crammed with 4 or 5 cafes spread out over the whole area. Of course we headed straight to one such cafe – second Capri price shock: €17 for two glasses of house wine. Gulp.

There, sat in the Piazzetta (as it’s known), in the shadow of the white-washed Santo Stefano, one could really feel the essence of Capri. The square evoked the glamour that makes Capri so unique, fizzing with gossip and preening glitterati; waiters with their noses slightly upturned, regulars sat at the best cafe tables, their carefully coiffed dogs curled up beneath them, shiny boutique-bought handbags reflecting the sunlight, and the ice of morning cocktails glinting in the sun. Yes this was surely the reputed Capri – the very pinnacle of Paris couture in the tiniest cluster of toy-sized civilisation.

Feeling all the merrier for the wine, ignoring its hefty price, we wandered onwards, out of the square and into the town’s little streets which became ever more quaint and charming as one led to another. Our only attempt at shopping was thwarted by the sight of the price tag of a rather ordinary looking pair of sunglasses: a snitch at €1500. Happily, a sumptuous sun-dappled lunch in the cool gardens of the Hotel La Palma was easier on the wallet and even more so on the stomach. This left us well nourished (if a little tipsy) to explore the rest of Capri. Oh and what wonders were to come.

New Woodcut: Boats in the Porto Santa Lucia, Naples

Introducing my new (and second) woodcut print: Boats in the Porto Santa Lucia. Like my first woodcut completed earlier this year, my second is inspired by the incredible Christmas trip I took with my partner across Italy, from Venice, to Rome and ending up finally in Naples.

This woodcut was inspired by our first morning in Naples when, with the sun shining a surprisingly summery warmth upon us, we headed down to the city’s Mediterranean port and were bowled over. Of course we’ve all heard of Naples’ bigger industrial port, but just around the coast, in front of the upmarket Santa Lucia region and around the Castel dell’Ovo is a beautiful little marina full of all of the shiny white yachts, fishing boats and other marine paraphernalia you would expect.

Boats in the Porto Santa Lucia, Naples (2014 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, woodcut (3 plates) printed on fabriano)

I was unsurprisingly obsessed by the water there and all of the brightly coloured ripples reflected from the boats and the harbour walls. This woodcut is an attempt to capture them. It’s a multi-plate print which means that a number of plates are cut and combined to introduce different colours into the print. Below are shots showing a print of each coloured plate individually, which combined together really bring the work to life. You can also see the plates set out alongside the inks and rollers in the printmaking studio, as well as a series of prints hanging up to dry – editioning is tiring stuff!

This is now my second woodcut and my seventh print since I started printmaking last Spring. I can say without hesitation that I now consider myself to be as enthusiastic a printmaker as a painter and I can’t wait to make more!

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. For more information on the work of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, head to his art website at www.delacy-brown.com

Nicholas de Lacy-Brown’s new solo exhibition, When (S)pain became the Norm, will be at London’s Strand Gallery from 13 – 18 May 2014. For more details, click here.

Feb 7

Bianco Nero – Italy in a Vintage Light

As an artist who loves colour, who believes dulling down the vibrancy of paint straight from the tube is a kind of sacrilege, I am incredibly drawn to the power and atmosphere of black and white. It’s always surprised me that in the process of draining all of the colour out of an image leaving only tone and light and shadow behind, all of the emotional charge of the image is somehow more focused, almost as though the absence of colour leaves room for passion to breathe.

And it’s not just photos either. Black and white films hold an endless fascination for me, and once you’ve watched a few, you become so charmed by their subtle nuanced light that the next colour film you watch seems all too jarring and unauthentic. It’s like a calendar I recently saw in Rome of Audrey Hepburn’s famous debut Roman Holiday. On one page were beautiful black and white stills from the film we all know and love so well; on the next coloured up versions, which looked so Disney and brash by comparison. And then of course there’s Picasso’s Guernica – one of the most powerful paintings in all of the history of art – despite being painted exclusively in tones of grey.

While it’s tempting to think that the appeal of black and white photography harps back to a vintage age, when life was elegant and free from the trappings of modern life, a theory easily justified by photography heroes such as Doisneau and Brassai who so perfectly captured Paris in black and white in the inter-war years, in fact, as this post attempts to show, black and white can be just as atmospheric even when adapted to the modern age.

After weeks recollecting my recent trip to Italy, my final hurrah is a post which explores the medium of black and white photography (along with a few sepia examples thrown in to boot) with Italy and its people as a willing model. Of course it’s easy in the digital age to convert a standard colour photograph to black and white and back again, but as these shots hopefully demonstrate, the transformation is far from just the colour.

Moody, evocative, almost caught in a time vacuum, these shots have taken on a character all of their own just for being distilled in monochrome. Without the blue of the Venetian water, a ripple takes on an abstract, mysterious form; with the colour gone from their faces, random passers by in Roman squares look like actors from a golden age film; and in Naples, the shadow of an old woman in the sunlight is, in black and white, like a menacing character straight out of Victorian fiction. Now that truly is the power of black and white.

All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2014 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.