The Itinerant Gallerist
Samuele Visentin
“I like to see a developing concept in the body of work of an artist or, at least, consistency. It’s possible to find, especially in emerging young artists, a raw talent that could flourish beautifully, but also transform into something completely different. Personally, I follow my instinct but not blindly” — Samuele Visentin
Art advisor Samuele Visentin who has, until recently, been living in North London, is currently in Milan, trying to decide on a new UK base. After a career in modelling for the likes of Dolce & Gabbana and GQ Italia, Visentin followed his passion for contemporary art and has since curated and organised itinerant pop-up shows in major cities across Europe, sponsoring and promoting the careers of numerous young artists. Visentin relies largely on instinct, and what would seem an innate ability for discovering new and emerging talent, which has, thus far, proved an enormous success; as a case in point the work of British artist William Brickel (b. 1994), to whom Visentin gave the first solo show in Milan in 2019, in collaboration with Repertorio, was recently shown at Art Basel Miami by Kohn Gallery. Underpinning a natural understanding of the art market, Visentin has a clear vision: to showcase thought-provoking, cutting-edge artists, spanning a variety of mediums and presenting a unique artistic point of view. In tandem, Visentin also works closely with both aspiring and experienced collectors — some of them new, some of them existing clients — so as to advise them on what artists might suit their tastes and, if applicable, work with, or enhance, an existing collection. Most recently Visentin showed the work of French artist Fabien Adèle at a Huguenot weaver's house in the heart of London’s Spitalfields (Indeed Visentin hit it off with the owners to the extent that they have since asked him to participate in exciting new art project that will hopefully be launching next year). Visentin first discovered Adèle’s work on Instagram in the Spring of 2019 and after a consequent Paris studio visit he worked closely with the artist on the lead up to the exhibition — an enormous success, both critically and commercially — where Adèle’s fluid, almost Dalí-esque figures were the perfect counterpoint to their classical Georgian surroundings. Imbued with a contemporary take on surrealism, reminiscent of Italian artist Giorgio De Chirico (1888-1978), Adèle’s paintings explore ideas of memory and physicality, oscillating between dream-like settings and experiences of reality. “What I found striking about the works is his artistic consistency in portraying his figures and staging these surreal scenes,” explains Visentin, “I also felt very drawn to the psychological side of his works and how they managed to tell a story that made me stop and stare and ask myself questions.”
Samuele Visentin at the opening of the Fabien Adèle exhibition in Spitalfields
“A Fight to the Knees” (2019) by William Bickel, exhibited by Samuele Visentin
What was it that drew you to a career in art?
It all happened indirectly thanks to my ex-boyfriend — Nini Bonavoglia — a very talented private art advisor. I was 22 when we started dating and I was his plus one at most of his gallery openings, previews, biennials, art fairs … so we could say I entered the art world through the window, but it was love at first sight. Nini was very eloquent when he talked about the artists we saw together and receiving that information from him helped me process it better. After my graduation, I was doing research all the time, both for him and for myself and I started studying a lot on books and on the field. One thing led to another and after a brief period in tech, I started working for an art gallery in London. Now it’s been almost two years that I work by myself and I’m loving it more than ever.
Your recent shows have been an enormous success, both critically and commercially, but what is it in particular that draws you to an artist’s work?
I like to see a developing concept in the body of work of an artist or, at least, consistency. It’s possible to find, especially in emerging young artists, a raw talent that could flourish beautifully, but also transform into something completely different. Personally, I follow my instinct but not blindly. I also ask for opinions from trusted colleagues and mentors; there’s nothing better than an experienced pair of eyes looking at the same work as you. A lot more goes into it of course, but this is the essential element I look for in an artist’s work
Has it always been a goal to stage shows and support the work of emerging and contemporary artists?
It’s been my goal since I started working in the art world, but I changed my mind many times over the years. Growing up I wanted to be a road racing cyclist because Marco Pantani was my idol, then a veterinarian and during my high school years an English literature professor. I hold a degree in foreign literature for that reason. However, I’m happy I landed on art: I really enjoy working with emerging artists; most of them come from my generation and I find more points of contact with their work.
So far you’ve curated, in your own words, a series of “itinerant pop-up shows”, but would you ever want a brick and mortar gallery space, and if so why, and where?
No, I don’t think I would want to open a gallery space. I feel it’s anachronistic given the current state of the world and what I expect will come. Even prior to the pandemic, I wanted to organise pop-up shows because they were not subject to the expenses of a brick and mortar gallery, which can be draining and demand a continuous stream of income. Changing the space almost every time allows me to treat it as additional value in the presentation of the works. It’s more dynamic and I’m more comfortable working this way.
The art market has taken a serious hit during the pandemic; how do you think the art world will change, if at all, as a result?
The art market has already been changed enormously by the pandemic. The online presence of galleries and dealers became just as important as the physical one, for example. Simultaneously, the central role of art fairs has been thrown out the window. I’m sure most of them will resume successfully after this difficult period, but collectors and dealers won’t feel like they have to attend to all of them. The general feeling I picked up in the corridors of Frieze London last year was that most people were tired of the FOMO art fairs generated. All we can do now is wait and see. What is certain is that nothing will ever beat a physical art show or art fair, compared to an online version of it.
Which artist has had the biggest impact on you and why?
David Wojnarowicz (1954-1992). Starting in the early 70s, he created a body of work that spanned photography, painting, music, film, sculpture, writing, and activism. What made me fall in love with him were his books. The first one I read was Close to the knives and his words felt like a dam breaking. It was lacerating, raw and vulnerable at the same time. Most of all, it felt like the most humane book I’ve ever read. Syntax, grammar, punctuation … every aspect of the literature I was used to was held captive by the unstoppable force of his words. It took me months to digest the content of Close to the knives, but when I managed, I wanted more. I have just started reading Brush Fires in the Social Landscape and I can’t wait to finish it.
On that note, what’s your favourite work of art?
Untitled (Perfect Lovers) (1991) by Félix González-Torres (1957-1996). It consists of two synched wall clocks placed side by side. They simply count the passing of time. It was conceived shortly after González-Torres’ partner, Ross, was diagnosed with AIDS. The artist managed to condense so many different layers of meaning in such simple objects; the inevitable passing of time, the death sentence AIDS meant back then and the meaning of love. It punched my guts, but it was full of warmth. It made me want to call my parents and kiss my boyfriend. It was also the first time a work of art left such a mark on me.
What’s the first important piece of art you ever owned?
An eighteenth century double-sided sanguine drawing by an anonymous Italian artist. I bought it at auction in Germany years ago. I remember the rush I felt while I was on the phone bidding. It was my first. When it arrived, I was ecstatic: I stared at the grain of the paper for an hour. On one side there is a male nude and on the other two studies for male torsos. This purchase might seem odd considering I work in contemporary art but being Italian I feel my fascination for Old Masters is inevitable. I received a canonical art history education growing up and in my personal way, it’s a wink to Italy and its cultural baggage. I love it.
“Quartier Libre” (2019) by Fabien Adèle, exhibited by Samuele Visentin
Which artists would you collect if you could?
In a world of pure fantasy, I’d love a Piede sculpture by Luciano Fabro (1936-2007) to put in the corner of my living room. He’s my favourite Italian and Arte Povera artist. I saw a beautiful exhibition centred around the artist at Christian Stein Gallery in Milan years ago and I was star struck. Then surely, Repose IV (2019) by Lynette Yiadom-Boakye (b. 1977) above my bed. I saw this work last year at Corvi-Mora Gallery in London. It depicts a black man lying down on white cushions in a state of complete relax. Only a flowerpot sits on the bedside table. It’s beautiful and unpretentious! And last but not least, I’d love to have Untitled (For Stockholm) (1992) by Félix González-Torres hanging from the ceiling above the stairwell. It consists of several strings of light bulbs that span the height of the room and recline upon the ground. It would be a beautiful and heart-warming installation to have at home.
How do you keep abreast of the contemporary art market and is social media playing an increasingly important role?
I do a lot of research, both casually and intentionally. Right now, we are all increasingly pushed to rely on online formats to stay up to date and in touch with artists, galleries and clients. Especially because of lockdowns, social media has become an important outlet in terms of exposure and access. For example, on Instagram, I found one of the last artists I exhibited — Fabien Adèle. We talked extensively on the online platform before arranging a studio visit. It was informal and easy-going; before we started conversing, I had photos of most of his works in front of me and he could access images of my previous projects. If used properly, Instagram can be an amazing resourceful tool.
The worlds of Art, fashion and design are becoming increasingly intertwined, with an ever increasing focus on editorial, or “instagrammable” imagery; from your experience, is it something influencing the work of young artists?
The role of Instagram has increased exponentially in recent years and the pandemic only helped strengthen its position. Among other things, it has become an eye through which we look every day, so it must have influenced the artistic development of some artists. I don’t want to generalise, of course, but it’s certainly a reality for some. Personally, I’m neither pro nor against it, I just care about the quality of the concept behind the work.
An object you would never part with?
It’s a T-shirt by the fashion brand Qasimi. It reads “Don’t shoot the press” in four different languages and it’s a semi-replica of the war zone t-shirt worn by journalists during the 1982 Lebanon War. Khalid Qasimi, a dear friend of mine and founder of the brand, gave it to me in 2017. He passed away at the beginning of July last year. I never travel without it because I know I’m going to feel like wearing it, especially if I go out or to the club. I like to remember him while I’m dancing and having fun with friends. I think that’s what he’d do, too.
What was the last thing you bought and loved?
An escapulario necklace I bought in Caracas when I visited last year. On the front it has a miniature image of San Benito protector and on the other the Cross of San Benito. I bought a similar black one for my mother and I’ve worn it ever since.
Something you have your eye on?
The Face Corset mask by Alan Crocetti. He’s a great jewellery designer based in London and I saw the piece in his last Fall/Winter campaign. It’s a beautiful accessory and it speaks of our times, where masks have become our daily bread. I’d love to wear it once it becomes available.
What’s the best gift you’ve been given?
My grandpa’s gold chain and cross. He gave it to me when I was 13 and I never took it off since. It’s been 15 years now and when I don’t wear it, I feel I’m missing something. Growing up I’ve always seen it around my grandpa’s neck, both in person and in old photographs. I see it as a family charm that was passed down to me. The time will come when I eventually pass it down myself ... maybe.
The site that most inspires you?
Museo Poldi Pezzoli in Milan. It’s located near Piazza della Scala and it hosts the private collection of Gian Giacomo Poldi Pezzoli — an Italian count from the 19th century. I love the diversity and beauty of its collection, which spans Old Masters, weaponry, design, pocket watches … Some of my favourite artworks from the collection are Ritratto di giovane dama (“Portrait of a Girl”) (1470-1475) by Antonio del Pollaiuolo (1429-1498), Dead Christ Supported by the Madonna and Saint John (Pietà) (1455-1460) by Giovanni Bellini (1430-1516) and Saint Sebastian (1480-1490) by Carlo Crivelli (1430-1495), but I could continue. Overall, it’s a beautiful museum experience and a perfect time capsule to get lost into on a Sunday afternoon in Milan.
Where’s the most unforgettable place you’ve travelled?
Venezuela, specifically Caracas and the archipelago of Los Roques. I visited last year for New Year’s Eve and I have to say I was very self-conscious about the destination before leaving; every piece of news I found online about the country went from bad to worse and I didn’t know what to expect. I trusted blindly the friend who invited me and I was right. The archipelago, where we spent most of the time, was beyond all my expectations — it has the most pristine and turquoise waters I will probably ever see. We were staying at Villa Caracol in Gran Roque, a boutique hotel owned by a friend of ours. The vibe on the island was friendly and I bonded immediately with the larger group of people I met there. I spent a few days in Caracas, as well, and that was a more intense experience. The city offers some of the most beautiful Brutalist architecture I have ever seen and the Ciudad Universitaria de Caracas is a gem — the whole compound was designed by Carlos Raul Villanueva and you can see a massive ad-hoc Alexander Calder Mobile installation in the Aula Magna. Unfortunately, I couldn’t visit Gio Ponti’s (1891-1979) Villa Planchart, but next time it’s going to be at the top of my list.
“Not Yet Titled” (2020) by Patricia Ayres, exhibited by Samuele Visentin
Where would you like to go next?
As soon as I have the chance, I’m going to return to Zanzibar in Tanzania. I was supposed to visit in April, but of course the trip was cancelled. I’ve been going to the island with my family for five years now, once or twice a year. We have friends there and we always rent a house on the beach, dividing our time between the sea and road trips inland. Stone Town, the capital, is beautiful as well. It’s a UNESCO site and it’s famous for its elaborate wooden doors (also, Freddie Mercury was born there). There are several rooftop terraces that allow you to have an aerial view of the city and the harbour. I’m born again every time I come back from there.
What’s the best souvenir you’ve bought home?
It’s a black and brown African wax print cloth. It was given to me by a local friend in Zanzibar. I love the texture of the fabric and the printed motif. I wore it as a head piece last year in Sevilla to celebrate a friend’s birthday and it’s so long it reached my ankles. It’s a memory of one of my favourite places on Earth and wearing it made me feel like a prince more than any tuxedo could.
Tell us about a recent “find”?
The Newchild Gallery in Antwerp. I discovered them last year while researching works by Vojtech Kovarik — a young Czech artist. We kept in touch and just recently I worked with them again. They have a beautiful program and I’m sure I’m going to work with them more in the future.
If you didn’t live in London, where would you live?
I would love to live in Paris. I always stay at friends’ around the Marais or in Saint-Sulpice when I visit. The bakery Du Pain et des idées in the 10th arrondissement is one of my favourite spots to buy bread and pastries. If you don’t mind queuing for twenty plus minutes, I suggest ordering the escargot chocolat pistache, but don’t leave without a slice or a quarter of pain des amis — it’s smoky and nutty and you won’t regret it. Staying in the 10th, the gym La Montgolfière is my favourite place to work out. It’s built inside a former factory of hot air balloons and the space is divided onto three floors, dominated by a glass roof that spans across the whole building. It’s perfect for a session or to unwind at the spa.
What’s your biggest indulgence?
Pasta, for sure. It sounds like a cliché being Italian but I would lie if I said I don’t eat it every day. My grandmas played a major role in kicking off this passion for me. Both of them were great cooks and each had their signature dish: cappelletti in brodo di cappone and cappellacci di zucca col ragù — traditional dishes from Ferrara, my hometown. Moreover, the whole region where I’m from, Emilia-Romagna, won for several years the best cuisine in the world according to Forbes Magazine. I can’t prove that Forbes knew about my grandmas’ culinary talents, but my taste buds are sure they helped bring home the grand prize.
What’s the best book you’ve read in the past year?
The Cosmicomics by Italo Calvino. It’s a collection of short stories published in 1965. Each story takes a scientific fact and builds an imaginary story around it. An always-extant called Qfwfq narrates all but two tales, each of which is a memory of an event in the history of the universe. I found a good escape in its pages during the March/April quarantine. Another great narrative book that I read during the summer is The Rebels by Sándor Márai. In terms of art, instead, I suggest Double Vision: The Unerring Eye of Art World Avatars Dominique and John de Menil by William Middleton. It’s beautifully written and informative. However, it’s quite thick, so I haven’t finished it yet.
What would you do if you didn’t work in art?
Renewable energy is a field that has always interested me. I was in middle school when I started hearing about solar panels and the concept of acquiring energy using the power of natural elements intrigued me. Nowadays it’s a booming business and I’m happy to see a growing number of people investing in it. Maybe one day I’ll give up art dealing and branch into it. Who knows.
What’s next?
I have several projects that I’m either working on or I’m in early discussions for. I’m currently planning two art shows set to open in the first half of 2021 in London and I’m in early discussions to curate a show for a London gallery in the spring. Additionally, I’ve been approached to join the advisory board of a London institution set to open in the next few years. This new form of sedentarism has had its perk — among other things, I have had much more time to research and explore both new artists and new ways of presenting them. What is certain is that I’d like to think more in terms of collaborations rather than doing projects solo, so I want to grow in that direction. It’s all very exciting and I can’t wait to see these projects come to fruition.