British photographer James Mollison came to Italy to work at Fabrica, Benetton’s creative laboratory in Treviso. There, he collaborated with COLORS magazine and developed photographic projects exploring social and cultural themes. Over the years, he has produced works such as Where Children Sleep, which documents the bedrooms of children around the world, and The Disciples, a series of panoramic portraits of music fans. Now based in Venice, Mollison has transformed a flat near Campo San Giacomo dell’Orio into a home that reflects his love for natural light and Venetian craftsmanship. In this interview for Gli Incurabili, James shares his daily life in the city, the rhythm of Campo life, and his favourite rituals—from market visits and cooking to escapes across the lagoon’s islands.
INTERVIEW BY VALERIA NECCHIO
PHOTOS BY JAMES MOLLISON // PORTRAITS BY VALERIA NECCHIO
VN: Let’s start from the beginning. What brought you to Venice and what you were doing at the time?
JM: I always say that I arrived here by luck. I was working at Fabrica, which was Benetton’s creative research centre in Treviso, and I’d been there for about 3 years. I worked on COLORS magazine and also a little bit for Benetton and other projects with Fabrica. They kept on giving me these six-month to one-year contracts, but I noticed that they would always be renewed and I began to become a little bit more financially stable. It was always a dream of mine to own a place rather than to rent it. And, you know, I didn’t want to live in Treviso, because although Treviso is a beautiful town, at that time you had that ultra-conservative Lega Nord mayor who was taking away the benches only because that’s where the immigrants sat. So, it left me this slightly sour taste. And then, I was talking to a friend about it all and she said, “Have you ever thought of Venice?” And as soon as she suggested the idea, I thought, “Ah, Venice. I love going to Venice!” And she said, “You know, if you buy a place there, you can sell it quite quickly.” I was travelling a lot for work at that time, so I thought that I could also rent it out if and when I had big projects.
VN: So, you started looking for a place?
JM: I had a friend from Venice who I’d worked on a project with. So I called him and he told me, “My mum’s friend buys and sells properties. I’ll ask her.” And she happened to have this place near Campo San Giacomo dell’Orio, which I didn’t know about at the time, but she said was a nice area of Venice. So I went to look at this apartment and found out that a lady had recently died in it, it didn’t have any heating, it was pretty horrible inside. But I remember I got a good feeling from it because there was nice light. And I think that there’s something about the light in Venice—when it streams through the windows…Obviously, so many of the apartments that are low on the ground or on these narrow streets won’t get that, but this place had a good light and I liked it. But then, I was told that if I wanted the apartment I had to give the owner 25,000 euro in cash by the end of that week, because she was about to buy another place and needed the money…So I hesitated, I saw four other apartments but none gave me that same feeling, so in the end I settled on it and bought it. What I didn’t know at the time was that the woman I was buying it off could also help me renovate it, because she had contacts for builders and electricians and so on through her work. So we did this process together in which we gutted the apartment and took down some of the walls. And it was a process that I really enjoyed. It all started off from something that was quite sensible—with two bedrooms—and became this open-plan thing. And then, as I began to take away the old plaster, I remember being amazed by how they do the walls in Venice.

VN: How do they do them?
JM: My apartment—you can see it on a map from 1490. And in that time, wood was very important for doing the beams, which would get floated down from the Dolomites down the rivers. And I think you can still see the markings that some of the carpenters would use on the beams. A tree is obviously round, so they’ll cut the square beam out of the tree, and the small half-moon pieces that are left are then used to create the inner walls, and then that is then filled with plaster. But these horizontal woods to me were really beautiful; I was like, “Oh, I don’t want to lose that”. So I got the builders to fill in the gaps between the wood without covering it, which I like because it shows the history of the place.
Another thing that amazed me, coming from England, where workmen are often just getting the job done as cheaply as possible, was this idea of craft—to work with people who were wanting to do something even better than I was aware of. And I really appreciated that. I like that idea of transforming a space and making it into something that’s yours. And I like working with people who are into creating something interesting, that’s well done and has craftsmanship. It was a great experience.Anyway, I finished the apartment and I think what I hadn’t realised before buying it was that it fundamentally changed my relationship to Italy. Whereas before I was feeling very transient, having an actual home made me feel more calm and happy. And I was able to appreciate all the things that I love about this country—the food and the wine and the weather. And yes, of course you have issues—bureaucracy can be a pain—but there is an amazing quality of life here and it’s something that I really appreciate. It’s why I’m still here, 20 years later.


VN: This is so fascinating. Most people would talk about a renovation process, particularly in Venice, as something painful—long, unnerving and expensive. Whereas the way that you talk about it is very, very positive. Still, buying and renovating a house in a city you haven’t tested and tried before is a huge leap of faith, which is part of what I find unique about your story: it begins with a home and then unfolds into a new life. Many arrive in Venice without much of a domicile or a plan, and then life happens, and that’s what makes them stay, and then they might find a home. You, on the other hand, started from your need for something stable—a base to build upon and explore further—and went from there.
JM: The thing I love about Venice is that at one point, after living here for a bit, you sort of become immune to its beauty and start liking it for its more human side. I’ve got a great fruit and vegetable place 100 metres from my house; I’ll go there almost every day to get vegetables. Same with the bakery. And then, on Saturday, when I am in Venice, I have a routine, which I love, which is: get up, go to the Rialto fish market, buy fish, go to the butcher, go to Mascari to buy wine, go to the vegetable stall there, go home and cook. I know that some Venetians complain about the fish market being not what it was, but it still has, like, seven stalls selling fish. And it’s true, my favourite butcher closed a few years ago, but there’s still a couple more. And there’s a quality of produce in Italy, which coming from England I really appreciate.

VN: Was easing into this routine immediate for you or did it take a while?
JM: If you’re working and you’re busy as I was at the time—and, at the beginning, I would travel on assignment 5-6 months out of the year—having a place that is calm and where you can eat well and cook well is important. At least, it was for me. That said, my relationship with Venice changed quite fundamentally when my wife and I had children. People live in apartments and often don’t have a garden. So the Campo becomes something really important. And I’m fortunate to live near Campo San Giacomo, which is, you know, one of the few Campos still living. I like it when, after school, you see kids on bicycles and roller skates and playing football against the church wall. And I think that process of taking your kids to school and having a coffee with the parents and then, later in the day, being in Campo chatting with the other parents really made a difference. The Campo has been a place where I’ve made a lot of new friends. I’ve got a much bigger community now than I had before having kids.
VN: Campo San Giacomo is also one of those places that is still partially untouched by the crowds.
JM: Venice has this idea of too many tourists, which it does have. But they don’t particularly bother me because I feel that there’s a runway where they go. It’s like a friend from New York said, you don’t hang out in Times Square all the time. Equally, I’ll stumble back past Saint Mark’s if I’ve been out somewhere. But quite often I won’t go to Saint Mark’s for a couple of months, you know. So I do feel that you can spread out and avoid the crowds. They can be slightly annoying sometimes, but in all it’s a minor grievance.
VN: I wonder about how you relate to Venice in terms of your creative process and your profession. Does it feel recharging? Does it inspire you in any way?
JM: Most of my friends in Venice aren’t in the creative industries. I don’t live in some kind of photography bubble, which I like. And in terms of the city, I’m not a photographer who’s inspired by photography that’s about beauty. I much prefer Martin Parr’s take on Venice, which depicts a side of Venice I don’t like—the tourist experience, so to speak—but there’s a special wit to his pictures. I also like Massimo Vitali’s pictures of the Carnival, with all of the hordes of people. So yes, creatively speaking, I’m more drawn to pictures that are a comment about Venice and how it’s lived now, rather than a kind of nostalgic look on it. That would be the sort of chocolate-box photography that doesn’t interest me, really. But what I like about these projects is also very different from how I live my life. I wouldn’t obviously seek out Martin Parr’s experience, even though I find that visually interesting.


VN: What’s your relationship to water and the lagoon?
JM: We share a boat with somebody, and Venice completely changes when you’re in a boat. Whether it’s in terms of how you get from one place to the other. We don’t use it that much, partly because it’s dry docked, so getting it out is a pain. It’s something we would do on a Sunday. I love going to either Campalto, or Forte Sant’Andrea and having a BBQ. And I like camping with my kids too, either there or in Poveglia. It’s like having a mini holiday in Venice. And I’ve managed to persuade some other Venetian dads now. There’s this irrational fear of rats…I mean, I’ve done quite a lot of camping, and I’ve never seen any. You might see the odd country mouse, but there’s this idea that you’re going to get eaten by rats, which isn’t true. And it’s actually super fun with my kids, being in Poveglia at night, with the building that’s kind of decaying and the eerie history of the island and so on.


VN: You mentioned that you like cooking. Do you have any favourite flavours that are part of the Venetian repertoire?
JM: I really appreciate the seasons, which I think is something that not just Venice but Italy’s really good at. Some people say, oh, don’t you get bored of Italian food? Not really, because flavours change throughout the year. I appreciate that change. For a few years now I’ve tried to eat vegetarian during the week, eat fish on Saturday—because I love that experience of going to the fish market—and then eat meat on Sunday. I love meat and have a great butcher but also know that I should eat a little bit less of it. So this thing, I found, works quite well because it makes me buy and appreciate good meat when you have it and, on the other hand, eat with the seasons and work with and appreciate seasonal produce during the week.
VN: How about eating out—do you have any favourites?
JM: I don’t eat out a huge amount because, quite often, if ‘m away for work, I’ll be eating out. But if I do, I mean, I love Vini da Gigio. I love Prosecco, the bar in Campo San Giacomo. They are moody—if it’s raining, say, they don’t open—but they’re kind and the wine is really good. They do amazing salads or sandwiches, they don’t have that much stuff, but there’s an attention to detail in everything they do. It’s not fancy, but really well done. I also like Estro for their modern take on Venetian food. And Osteria Giorgione da Masa. I mean, obviously it’s Japanese, but there’s an Italian tweak that I like. I like Alaska for ice-cream. For cocktails, I’d go to the Venice Venice, and I like the way the hotel has made it so you can still go there for drinks. Their cocktails have gone up but it’s still a nice place to sit on the Grand Canal, and the project has real passion behind it.
VN: I was about to ask you if you have a weekend ritual—beyond cooking.
JM: I think it would be going to Torcello or all the way to Lio Piccolo to some of those agriturismi out there. But then to be honest, the one thing I like doing the most is taking a barbecue on our boat and having a BBQ out somewhere. Certosa is also fun. When the weather is good, my kids like running and jumping off that little pier where the boats are moored, on the side of the island facing le Vignole.
VN: There’s this vision of Venice as a stone and marble city, whereas you can have this almost countryside-like experience in no time at all, and that’s something I also love about it. Changing topic: as someone that has lived here for 20 years, have you seen the city change in any way?
JM: There are more tourists, that’s undeniable. When I first came to Venice, there were only two Ryanair flights a week, so. That said, the Venice airport is quite amazing. You can fly to Shanghai, have direct flights to New York, and three flights to Paris a day. I remember, before COVID, I could fly to 11 different airports in the UK, and 7 in Germany. And trains are also great from here for national travel. I don’t have a car in Venice, so if I’ve got work in Milan or Rome, I travel by train. It’s actually quite easy to get around from here. The only difficulty is my equipment, which can be quite heavy at times, but luckily I don’t have a bridge to get to the nearest vaporetto…Sorry, what was the question?

VN: The question was, are you seeing the city evolve in any way? For example, I’ve been living in Venice for four years now and, in my experience, lots of people came to live in Venice from abroad during or right after the pandemic, maybe because they could work remotely or because they wanted to return to a place they liked—many had studied or lived here. And these people have created a very vibrant community. There’s a lot going on. I wonder if this is something you’ve experienced at any point throughout the years—a change of pace, different people arriving and doing things.
JM: I’d say that it’s my life and my circumstances that have changed. I feel much more connected to the city now compared to when I arrived. But that’s just been the process of getting to know people. I don’t really feel it’s changed that much over the time I’ve been here. I mean, you have the rhythm given by these big events—the Biennale, the Film Festival, the Regata Storica…I’m very lucky to have a friend who lives on the Grand Canal who always throws a great party for the Regata Storica. So life gets kind of punctuated by these little things in the calendar. I’d say the only one that we tend to escape is the Carnival. Also, just because it happens to be when skiing’s going on. That’s another amazing thing about Venice—being so close to the Dolomites. You’ve got this spectacular mountain range and it’s just two hours from us. And it’s great all through the year. The only time I don’t want to go there is in August, ’cause that’s when everybody goes.
But you asked me about how Venice has changed recently. I suppose the one thing that truly changed is acqua alta. Of course, it’s great that the MOSE is blocking tides, even though it annoys me that they have to pay so much money every time they’re using it and it seems as though it was so badly managed. But there was this kind of weird randomness to acqua alta. You’d hear this siren go off and then you’d be working out, OK, what am I going to be doing 3 or 4 hours from now? Before MOSE, my kids, who were quite small at the time, would put on the wellies and go out to the Campo and paddle around in the water. It was this really fun, sort of jumping-in-puddles experience. I also just used to enjoy watching tourists having to navigate going across the water, not knowing what to do…!

VN:
Now you might only get a glimpse of this around St Mark’s! Were you here for the acqua granda in 2019?
JM: I was. I remember going up to the bridge outside the train station—it was about 11 at night—and see these poor people trying to save any furniture that they could…So, obviously that was a terrible event, but seeing how the other, minor ones transformed the Campo into a small lake was visually amazing, actually. It’s good that it doesn’t happen anymore, but I do have a little nostalgia for it.