Page 87 - Travel + Leisure India & South Asia (January 2020)
P. 87

But I also believed that more profound than
                  the jolt of perversion is the solace of beauty, its
                  scholarship, its motives, how it comes into being and
                  why it endures. Over the next few years, I moved in
                  and out of Rome, where the Doria Pamphilj Gallery
                  became one of my refuges.
                     Social acquaintance with Prince Jonathan Doria
                  Pamphilj, whose palazzo neighbours the gallery
                  and its art, graduated to friendship over the years.
                  In his palace of over 1,000 rooms, you are met in
                  a honey-hued salon; a butler arrives with a silver
                  salver bearing prosecco and aperitif. A reception
                  with Jonathan is memorable for its grace: driven
                  by a sympathy for great ideas, his wit is sparring
                  but always kind, bordering the fabulous; his
                  manner is correct, yet he warmly welcomes you
                  into a private fold of beauty, as if you had always
                  belonged there. You imagine other guests in this                                        for providence in it, a love for travel,

                  august, rarefied salon, including Madonna. More         GETTING THERE                    a peripatetic, dusty life that prized
                  recently, the palace hosted a much-discussed           Many airlines, including Etihad   experience over symbol. The family’s
                                                                         Airways (etihad.com), connect
                  fashion show from Giambattista Valli for H&M           India’s major cities to Rome. The   motto is optima pades, which translates
                  (front row: Kendall Jenner, Chris Lee).                entrance to the Palazzo Doria    to ‘show your best’. Taking this advisory
                     Jonathan can talk high art or a new restaurant      Pamphilj is on Via del Corso 305.   to heart, Jonathan has invested his
                                                                         The galleries are open to public,
                  on Via Catalana, where fried artichoke leaves are      between 9 am and 7 pm every      entire life in the pursuit of rare ideas

                  on point. He is passionate about restoration, and      day (except the third Wednesday   and difficult truths, including a political
                                                                         of each month). Individual

                  was one of the first members of Italian nobility        tickets for adults from `948;    conviction in our fundamental equality.
                  to open his palace, and a part of its formidable       doriapamphilj.it/roma            He publicly supports many causes,
                  collection housed in the Doria Pamphilj Gallery, to    STAY                             including equal rights for all, irrespective
          SHUTTERSTOCK (2)  Elson Braga, who radiates kindness, intelligence,   The new Fendi Private Suites lets   month-long stay in Italy last year. A
                  public. Dinner is always with his family, his partner
                                                                                                          of gender, race, or sexual orientation.
                                                                         you stay at Fendi’s boutique in
                                                                                                             I met Jonathan at the end of a
                                                                         Rome—on the third floor of Palazzo
                  equanimity; and their children, Emily and Filippo,
                                                                         Fendi. From `59,225 in January;
                                                                                                          bleak April in Rome, it had rained
                  raised with fiery wonder for the world, humility

                                                                         fendiprivatesuites.com/en
                                                                                                          every day; at a trattoria, my favourite
                                                                                                          sunglasses got nicked. I arrived at his

                                                                                                          palace in a strop. But the surfeit of fine
                                                                                                          things on the piano nobile—frescos,
                                                                                      Frescos and
                                                                                      paintings decorate   marble busts, paintings —quietened
                                                                                      the dome of         that tetchy hum in my head. I could
                                                                                      the gallery.
                                                                                                          do the only reasonable thing: submit
                                                                                                          to collective splendour. Much later,
                                                                                      The Doria           as I was leaving, I stood alone in his
                                                                                      Pamphilj Gallery
                                                                                      is one of the       courtyard. I imagined Handel, who
                                                                                      largest private     had performed pieces here, entering
                                                                                      collections of fine   the palace in the days of yore. I also
                                                                                      art in Italy.
                                                                                                          imagined Velázquez at work, when he
                                                                                                          had been commissioned to document
                                                                                                          one of Jonathan’s forebears, a Pope

                                                                                                          whose unflattering portrayal prompted
                                                                                                          a scandal. But an exultation in greatness
                                                                                                          can only be measured by how one feels
                                                                                                          leaving it behind. As the wet cobbled
                                                                                                          streets of Rome led me back to my flat,

                                                                                                          I recognised that I had been profoundly
                                                                                                          comforted; and April, which thus far
                                                                                                          had felt misspent, now had its crown.




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