The British might have their faults but also have certain merits. These include an enviably infallible nose for choosing beautiful places to eventually move to and a premonition for new trends in fashion, music, and art. Neil Davenport is no exception. A resident for years in one of the most magical places in northern Italy, where he founded an art gallery called Lakeside and where has been cultivating his passions for art, the natural landscape, football, and gardening. I interviewed him and discovered that...

How and when did your passion for art come about?

I always liked painting and drawing as a child and took art courses at secondary school, which is where I got interested in art history. At university, I started a Landscape Architecture course before switching to a degree in Design History at Brighton. I later took a postgraduate course in the history of art and design and worked on a Ph.D. thesis on Italian design. I would often go to exhibitions in that period and paint on a very occasional basis. When I started out as a translator in Italy, I found work in the fields of art, design, and architecture, something way more stimulating than my “bread and butter” business of translating books about cars and motor racing.

Who would say are your artists of reference?

At school we never got beyond Impressionism and Post-Impressionism, and the first artists to really have an impact on me were, in fact, Monet and Gauguin. English landscape painters such as Turner, Constable, and Cotman. Later on it was the Abstract Impressionists, especially Rothko; my favorite ever exhibition was a Rothko show at the Whitechapel Gallery in London. Just one painting and a host of documents regarding his original show in the same gallery in ’61. Working in the art world in Italy introduced me to the likes of Afro, Burri, Fontana, Manzoni, Martini, Marini, and then more directly contemporary artists such as Horiki Katsutomi, Irma Blank, Paolo De Piccoli, Nardino Taddei, Mauro Uccelli, David Reimondo, Gaspare, Emanuela Mezzadri, Marco Cavallaro, and so many more.

The origins of the Lakeside Art Gallery and an English curator/gallerist’s view of Italy

Lakeside came out of my need for my own space and a chance to meet people face to face after years of working from home as a translator. While the translation business paid the bills the art gallery became increasingly important. I’d originally been inspired by a friend in Genoa, Linda Kaiser, who had a micro gallery in the Porto Vecchio area. She showed me that a gallery didn’t have to be a white cube with hundreds of square meters of floor space. In fact, Lakeside now runs MiGAM, the Micro Galleria di Arte Moderna, exhibiting a single work of art at a time in a former newsstand in Verbania.

I’ve now lived in Italy for twice as long as I lived in the UK, so it’s debatable whether I actually have an outsider’s view of Italy anymore. Certainly, I can’t envisage ever moving back to England. I’ve been welcomed here, found family and friends, made a life, and even come to terms with the absurdities and contradictions. I’ve found that the art world here is as stratified and compartmentalized as it is anywhere, but perhaps being English and certainly having connections through my translation work has helped me gain something of a foothold. I’ve been fortunate enough to work with some important galleries and museums as well as numerous excellent artists.

Nature and landscape, between traditional painting and the contemporary, as you see them

While I love abstract and conceptual art, landscape has always been central to my way of looking at things. My own art is always based on landscape, albeit a minimalistic, basic version of landscape. A horizon defining a space in which atmospheric effects may or may not occur. Landscape tends to be snubbed in certain artistic circles, but as I see it, it is fundamental in its capacity to represent and define our place in the world. Clearly, it continues to have so much to offer and can be expressed in so many different ways. Constable’s Hay Wain crossing the River Stour provides a romantic snapshot of 19th century rural England but also naturalistic records of vegetation and cloud formations, while Horiki Katsutomi’s seemingly abstract Ithaca instead illustrates the landscape of Greek mythology.

Encounters with artists in the wild

Since 2007, I’ve been fortunate enough to meet many people, artists, critics, collectors, curators, and enthusiasts. A few artists were just looking for a place to exhibit, but the vast majority were a pleasure to get to know. Some, like Paolo De Piccoli, Emanuela Mezzadri, and indeed Michele Costantini, have become good friends and regular collaborators. As I mentioned, the art world tends to be very stratified, and it is hard to imagine artists from the higher levels mixing it up with those lower down. In my case I had an exhibition with Giorgio Carpintieri, who filled the gallery with a safari of papier mache animal masks and gloriously surreal and humouristic drawings, followed by a rigorously minimalist, conceptual show by the very well-known Irma Blank. There was some concern that the latter would be put out by being asked to follow on from the relatively unknown Giorgio. It then turned out that they had both taught at the same art school and were good friends, so happily there is an exception to every rule. I was introduced to Horiki Katsutomi by a local artist, teacher, and curator, Marisa Cortese, and benefited greatly from the generosity and friendship of one of my favorite artists.

The fruition, diffusion, and education in art: are there new formulas that would allow us to overcome the idea of the gallery or museum?

I don’t think we necessarily need to overcome the idea of galleries or museums, but more flexibility and more innovative, agile, and interactive shows have to be the way to go. The Rothko exhibition I mentioned shows that even the great names can be presented without it necessarily having to be a blockbuster. I really have no idea how the finances would work, but in a major museum space, why not have a series of small, interconnected, possibly thematic shows rather than a major solo exhibition? The COVID years showed how the internet and digital formats can be used to great effect, and I have seen on the Norfolk coast in England how a collaboration between the National Gallery and a local association can bring the masterpieces of a London museum to regional areas thanks to relatively inexpensive but extremely high quality reproductions and a QR code system linking to the museum's web site.

In a hyper-digitalised era, one that is rich but fragmented, chaotic, and frequently disharmonious, is there still any sense in putting paint on canvas or sculpting a piece of stone?

In a word, yes. Of course there is. The idea that painting is dead was always ridiculous and still is. If you have something to say and the way you want to say it is by putting paint on canvas, why not? Likewise, if it’s by coding computer art or creating installations, fine. What’s important is that you have something to say or to show.

Art occupies much of your life, what else do you like doing?

I’ll binge watch TV with the best of them, and I won’t miss a Leicester City football match if I can help it, but I also love gardening, especially growing fruit vegetables and then cooking and consuming them. I like cycling, and now that I live in the hills above Lake Maggiore, I’m thankful I have an electric bike.

The wider view: dreams and projects, present and future

The big on-going personal project is the restoration and occupation of our dream home in the hills with my wife Elvira (who, of course, is the reason I came to Italy in the first place). In artistic terms, Lakeside Art Gallery is still very much an active concern, operating as a cultural association. I have the honorary title of artistic director, while my friend and colleague Paolo De Piccoli is the president of the association. Over the last few years we have organized a series of extended exhibitions that involve using shop windows in the centre of Verbania, the MiGAM newsstand gallery, and our exhibition space, restored and placed at the disposal of the association by Paolo himself. The format involves a gentle hike from the centre of Verbania up into the foothills above the town along a largely pedestrianized route. It’s proved to be a popular formula, and we’ll be continuing with it into the future, working with other local groups and associations to present local artists and others from further afield.