Nicoletta Saggio is multifaceted and curious. As an art enthusiast and project manager, she has worked for many years in the theatre, art, and events industry. Originally from Conegliano, in the heart of the Prosecco hills, she moved to Venice almost twenty years ago for a master’s degree, and in staying, gradually got to know the city in all its facets and dimensions, from the most opulent to the deeply human. Now she lives with her family in Murano, navigates in a small boat, and is responsible for guiding the guests of Hotel Flora and Casa Flora to discover the less obvious and more astonishing sides of Venice, conveying her visceral love for beauty, art, and old books.
INTERVIEW BY VALERIA NECCHIO
PHOTOS BY NICOLETTA SAGGIO / PORTRAITS BY VALERIA NECCHIO
Listen to Nicoletta’s Playlist x GLI INCURABILI
V: I believe you are the most time-honoured among all the INCURABILI I’ve interviewed so far.
N: Well, you made me do the math. I was convinced I’d been here for 17 years. Then I checked, and I’m actually about to reach the twenty-year mark.
V: Tell me about the before days.
N: I was born and lived until 18 yo in the hills of Conegliano, in a farmhouse amidst vineyards. I’m from a family of farmers. We grow grapes (Glera), have many vineyards and cornfields, and we used to have cows as well. My parents are like my grandparents, not only in terms of age but also in terms of mindset. I felt very different from my peers; I was the only one living outside the town. There was no bus service coming to our area, so I had to go to school by car. And in the afternoons, I would finish my homework quickly to help with chores on the farm – feeding or milking our cows, harvesting, tending the garden, herding turkeys…
V: A bucolic childhood, then.
N: Yes, happy indeed, but to be honest, until I went to university, I had never been on vacation, never spent a night away from home. We never went to the seaside. So, my first time sleeping away from home, away from my own bed, was the first night in Udine when I moved there for college.
“Those of us who were not from here but wanted to stay had to set even deeper roots. We yearned for that connection. We didn’t want to feel like foreigners among foreigners; we wanted to be recognised as being a part of the community. And we were willing to put in the extra effort in order to make it happen.”
V: Did you feel an urge to leave?
N: Yes, at that point anything would have worked. I majored in business economics because it seemed like a sensible choice, but then I rushed through my degree because I couldn’t stand my course of study anymore – I missed the whole humanistic aspect, which was my favourite. After graduation, I spent a year and a half in Gran Canaria, on an Erasmus program that turned into a work experience. When I returned, I decided I wanted to continue studying, but I didn’t want to throw away everything I had done and also didn’t want to disappoint my family. So, I looked for something that would combine economics and art and chose a master’s program in economics and management of arts and cultural activities, which is very popular now but was in its early days back then. I moved to Venice immediately. I moved without stopping by my hometown, collecting my things from Udine and my belongings from the Canary Islands and completely bypassing Conegliano.
V: How did it feel to arrive in Venice?
N: I already knew what living on an island meant. First, there was the vineyard island, isolating in the sense that I’d never leave. Then, there were the Canary Islands, where I fell in love with the water. When I arrived in Venice, somehow it felt as if I had always lived there.
After my studies, I did an internship at the Teatro Fondamenta Nuove, a magical place that unfortunately closed in 2016 (though it is now waiting to reopen). It was a theatre for performances, and there was a great cultural buzz. That place made many people fall in love with Venice – people from abroad who continue to give a lot to this city and to pursue different paths, cultivating various skills in art, music, and performance. I was one of them. We were all people who, not being from here but wanting to stay, had to set even deeper roots because we yearned for that connection. We didn’t want to feel like a foreigner among foreigners; we wanted to be recognised as being a part of the community. And we were willing to put in the extra effort in order to make it happen.
After the experience at the Teatro Fondamenta Nuove, I started working for an agency that organised major events. I practically lived above the stuccoed hall at the Excelsior – the Lido was our outpost. And this job opened the doors to some of the city’s most wonderful palazzi and venues for me. So, from behind the scenes, I saw places that made me fall in love with Venice even more and that I would never have seen otherwise.
From there, I moved on to work for a foundation at the Giardini della Biennale, the European Council of Art, where I managed exhibitions, collateral events, and other projects. This was also very interesting for me because I went from luxurious locations to exhibition spaces and setups – I don’t even remember how many warehouses and basements I saw, and how many phone numbers I recorded to visit places that could host small independent exhibitions.
Unfortunately, the pandemic didn’t help; all the projects and events were postponed. Personally, I needed a change and something that would bring an immediate return in terms of fulfilment. I needed to see someone’s happy face thanking me for recommending, let’s say, seeing Giovanni Bellini in the Church of San Francesco della Vigna. Maybe one day I’ll go back to working in art, but for now, I’m very happy with what I do. I like it; I feel like I’m doing my part just by sharing Venice through my eyes. I like to convey the idea that there’s a sense of belonging here, and even we residents are amazed by the beauty of this city. I like this transitional phase from one job to another; it enriches me.
V: Your incurableness was also influenced by your encounter with Alberto [Spezzamonte, ed.].
N: Yes, I met him at the Teatro Fondamenta Nuove; he was the sound engineer there and also for the concerts at San Marco, the sound engineer for the Ska-J.
Well, it was great from the beginning because I experienced Venice on so many different levels: the Venice everyone sees on television – the one of grand events, rooftop parties, the unattainable and expensive Venice that only a few can afford; then, the Venice of art; the Venice of squatted houses. And finally, the Venice of residents: a Venice seen from the water, from the barchino, which gives you a completely different perspective on the city. You see the laundry hanging out, you see people waking up… it’s a private life exposed at the back, in plain view of the canals. And it’s the local life my children are experiencing now.
V: This is a thread we haven’t explored in previous interviews – being a child or having children in Venice.
N: In my opinion, Venice is a wonderful place to raise children, at least until they become teenagers. I must mention that we live on Murano because Alberto is from there, and at one point, a house with a garden became available, and I didn’t even see it; I just said, “Okay, let’s go.” I find it a very safe place where I don’t have to worry. We always move around by boat. My children go to school by boat in any season and in any weather – sometimes they arrive soaking wet, but the thing is, they never catch a cold. Sometimes we go to the mainland for a few days or on vacation, and I see how much my eldest craves the water; he misses that sense of freedom that only a boat can provide. It’s nice that they realise this privilege. Because, in reality, it is a privilege in a sense – not many people have a little boat; others look at us and take pictures, but the little boat connects you to this sense of belonging to the city.
V: What do you like about the city as you see it now?
N: I see a community of people who have brought many skills and are rejuvenating the idea of networking and doing business in the city. It’s nice because it makes you think that you’re not the only one thinking this way, that people are becoming more aware and supporting each other, which makes us feel less alone. I like the sharing and the idea of hospitality I see. I like this belief that we can do good. It’s not always easy; sometimes it can be demoralizing, either due to the city’s response or because certain periods of the year bring a less attentive type of tourism. But there are times when Venice rewards you, and the same goes for the feedback from the people I interact with, whom I manage to give special advice on things to do, alternative routes. Sometimes, on the sly, I even give away my own guides or books – so far, they have always come back.
I have a lot of books about Venice; I collect them, and every Christmas, someone is tasked with giving me one. And then, there’s a part of my acquired family that fuels this passion of mine – Luisa, Alberto’s great-grandmother, who died at the age of 90, was the biggest reader I’ve ever known; she read a book a day. I still sometimes go fishing from her bookshelf; she had a whole section on Venice, she had Fulvio Roiter’s books, she had issues of the Meridiani magazine – a very expensive and beautiful magazine at the time, for niche tourism. When she found out that I was passionate about Venice too, she gave me the first issue of the magazine, which was dedicated to Venice, a special edition. I keep it carefully wrapped up.
V: What does a typical day-in-your-life look like?
N: First of all, we are a well-matched and quite dynamic family; we all wake up very early – I at 5:00, and by 6:00 at the latest, everyone is up. I am extremely happy to get up early; it’s a precious gift. You can really feel that Venice belongs to you.
Then, I go to work, and the children go to school by boat with Alberto. The first hours of my day are occupied at work, where I organise the day for guests, guiding them to explore Venice – this is after also organising the day for my children, who have a much more interesting social life than mine. Then, the rest of the day is spent living and breathing the city and the community that gathers in public in the late afternoon. With the children, we always try to make the most of the day, whether it’s by boat in the lagoon or in the field. In the warm season, we never return to Murano before 8:00 in the evening. Often, we are in Campo dei Gesuiti playing soccer or sitting on a well somewhere. I often try to combine playtime with visiting places – a church, something I haven’t seen. And I force the children to come with me – they hate it. And then, it’s aperitivo time, while we often have dinner at home. Alberto has this love for cooking; he loves to cook for others – if others call him to do something together, he always says yes and invites them to dinner. So, we often find ourselves with him in the garden, grilling, in a group of 20.
In the summer, on our days off, we love to go by boat to the northern lagoon. We wake up very early to watch the sunrise, then have breakfast in Burano and stay there. I have this beautiful memory of a summer storm a few years ago when the children were very excited; it was a real adventure.
And then, when Venezia FC plays, we’re always in the stands. Nino, my son, is 10 years old and plays soccer; he is a fan of Joel Pohjanpalo. So, in our family, the passion for Venezia FC ignited, even though I had never seen a game before and neither had Alberto; now we always go, all four of us, including my 5-year-old daughter. Before and after the match, we make a stop at Il Partito in Via Garibaldi, one of my favorite places. We stop there, play tag or soccer together, and then we walk home along the walls of the Arsenal, which have a spectacular light at sunset, with those battlements. I love the Venetian atmosphere of these evenings and places.
“We would stay until someone called the police, and then we put everything in the boat and left. We even offered it to passing tourists, who looked at us with amazement. We did it purely for the pleasure of being together.”
V: Your favorite places in Venice?
N: I love the Castello area – San Piero, San Francesco della Vigna, the facade of the Hospital, or the Scuola Grande di San Marco – but also Cannaregio. The Chiesetta dei Miracoli, Madonna dell’Orto, with its terracotta courtyard. The Campo and the Church of the Abbey. Speaking of Campo dell’Abbazia: I still remember a wonderful evening many years ago when we occupied it with the Teatro Fondamenta Nuove group. For months, we organised a roaming aperitif in various squares of the city – it worked through word of mouth, via messages. We took over the squares, brought tables, Alberto made cicchetti , and we offered an aperitif to those who came; it was all free. At the first event, there were 15 of us, and in the end, we had 50 people forming a community in the most beautiful squares of Venice. We would stay until someone called the police, and then we put everything in the boat and left. We even offered it to passing tourists, who looked at us with amazement. We did it purely for the pleasure of being together.
V: It’s the same desire for community that you see during the summer festivals.
N: Defintely, I think there is a need for this. I see that during the summer festivals, there is always great participation; everyone can’t wait to go to San Piero de Casteo, San Giacomo, San Francesco della Vigna… maybe they should resurrect some other saint or patron, perhaps in other months of the year, to continue the tradition with more celebrations.
V: A Venetian story that you love to tell.
N: The story of the construction of the Chiesetta dei Miracoli. It was built very quickly, in the 15th century; it was completed in 6 or 7 years with donations from the neighbourhoods population to commemorate a miraculous event – it was a grand undertaking because even though it was done so quickly, it is entirely made of marble and granite. It makes me think of the physical effort it must have taken to build it, in addition to ingenuity. Ingenuity is tiring, but the physical effort to see ideas that seemed impossible come to life is even more tiring – we must remember this when we do things: we must remember to look beyond. I always tell my children that – it’s a note to self as well.
