Over the centuries many painters, and today many photographers, have tried to capture Villa Angelina as it really is. In my view, no one has managed it: this historic house in Massa Lubrense changes every day, with the weather and with the people who live in it.
That day, it belonged to Rosaria and Pasquale.
The morning: Capri ahead, the sea below the balcony. Pasquale at the piano, already dressed. Rosaria spinning on the terrace before leaving.
Then the church: a kiss on the forehead, the rings, the arch of flowers at the door. Outside, a white vintage roadster.
And Villa Angelina. Pines above the sea, Vesuvius across the bay, guests on the lawn. Dinner under the white marquee, a ceramic heart on the plate. The saxophone, the first dance, the cake in the night.
Villa Angelina is a living work of art.
All I did that day was try to tell its story.
