A weekend in Venice, with Dries Van Noten’s secret spots
From the Bruno bookshop to the Da Mauretto trattoria in Malamocco, from the Redentore vegetable gardens to the Mascari grocery shop. The best places to discover in the lagoon, plus a visit to the Art and Fashion Foundation.
Venice has always held a special place in the hearts of Patrick (Vangheluwe, my business partner and partner in life, Ed.) and me, but we used to see it simply as a weekend getaway. Then, a friend offered us her flat for two weeks: a turning point. We discovered a Venice quite different from the one we knew. The city isn’t just about history and beauty, museums and exhibitions. It’s alive, with extraordinary activities and the people who live there, making it the unique place that it is. There’s an underlying energy: that of the young people who come here to study and train, that of the small independent businesses, and that of the galleries that pop up out of the blue. There are the proud Venetians, the bustling markets, and extraordinary fishmongers and butchers. Walking without cars, traffic or noise even changes the way you think. Energy is forced to move.
Choosing to spend a phase of my life in Venice felt natural: I was born in Antwerp and my whole life has revolved around fashion. I began to think about the future when I turned 59. I knew I could never simply close my fashion house. There was too much of an identity, too many people – some of whom had been with me for over 35 years – who deserved continuity. So, when I sold my brand in June 2024, after a 38-year career, I remained on as a consultant, in charge of the beauty and fragrance ranges, as well as the boutiques. I meet regularly with Julian Klausner, the creative director, and I take great pleasure in seeing how he carries on the spirit of the brand. In recent years, my artistic exploration has centred on craftsmanship: from the silk workshops of Lyon to the embroidery of Indian villages.
Today, as artificial intelligence becomes more widespread, protecting the wisdom of the hands is, for me, almost a political mission. AI may well be a poetic tool, but it will never replace the soul that a person infuses into what they create. Craftsmanship has always been part of my aesthetic approach, so when Patrick and I asked ourselves how we could continue to explore this passion in a new way, Venice, with its history and craft traditions, seemed the ideal place. Out of this sense of urgency, the Dries Van Noten Foundation at Palazzo Pisani Moretta was born: a space to celebrate the art of making in all its forms, in a city that honours it with events such as Homo Faber, the Art Biennale and Glass Week. I chose a 17th-century palazzo with stucco, frescoes and light reflecting off the Grand Canal. At the end of April, we launched our first exhibition: The Only True Protest Is Beauty. The title comes from a line by the singer-songwriter Phil Ochs: ‘In such ugly times, the only true protest is beauty’. I thought it was temporary; I was hoping for a better global climate.
Being a proud Venetian means finding a new balance here. Many people ask me about my garden in Antwerp, in Lier, where I return when the roses are in bloom. I do miss it, of course, but Venice is a ‘garden of stone’: the lagoon is a verdant landscape of reflections and silence. My favourite spot is Palazzo Pisani Moretta, where I’m always discovering new details, along with the Redentore garden and the terrace of Palazzo Pisani in Santo Stefano, an architectural gem that tells of centuries of history, music and nobility, and which today houses the Benedetto Marcello Conservatoire, a vibrant and pulsating part of the city’s cultural scene. My daily life unfolds between San Polo and Dorso Duro. I enjoy doing my shopping at the Rialto Market, popping into Macelleria Fiore near Campo Santa Margherita, or stocking up on delicacies at the Casa del Parmigiano and La Baita.
I love the Mascari Grocery for its coffee and wine, and I never fail to visit the artisan workshops, such as that of the woodcarver Bruno Barbon, Bruno Amadi’s glass workshop in Calle dei Saoneri, and Roberto Beltrami’s Wave Murano Glass furnace. As evening falls, my steps almost always lead me to the same tables. There’s something sacred about returning to a place where you feel at home. Trattoria Alla Madonna, between San Polo and Rialto, is my go-to spot for fisherman’s risotto: it’s a place that preserves the city’s authentic soul. For a different atmosphere, I love the restaurant at Pensione Wildner, where the cuisine speaks with the same honesty as the lagoon. For a quick aperitif, I choose Caffè Rosso, Il Mercante or Vino Vero in Cannaregio, whilst for the classic cicchetti, Cantina Schiavi remains a staple of my wanderings. I often pop into Caterina Tognon’s contemporary art gallery or lose myself amongst Bruno’s books in San Barnaba whilst waiting for the Rupture Arts & Books shop to finally open. My typical Sunday, however, is spent on the water: we take a boat out onto the lagoon and stop for a meal on the island of Pellestrina or in Malamocco at the trattoria Da Mauretto, an authentic spot where time seems to have stood still. For me, Venice isn’t a film set; it’s a living, breathing entity, a place where fragility isn’t a weakness, but the very essence of its enchantment.
