UNPACKING – Katia Margolis at the Palazzo Contarini-Polignac, Venice: 7-30 December 2021

Curator Robin Saikia introduces Russian artist Katia Margolis’s latest exhibition, “Unpacking”, at the Magazzino Gallery, Palazzo Contarini-Polignac, Venice. 7-30 December 2021. Admission free. The directors of Magazzino look forward to seeing you at the opening at 6pm on Tuesday 7 December. If you can’t make it to the opening, do join us for a closing drink on the evening of December 30.

‘Fresco – Grand Canal towards Salute’, from Vert-de-gris series, Unpacking. Ink and wash.

Katia Margolis’s last major exhibition at Magazzino Gallery, Palazzo Contarini-Polignac, was Iconostasis (2016), a collection of exquisite paintings on reclaimed printing blocks, unified by themes of love, loss, memory and devotion. Her latest exhibition, Unpacking, is an expansively conceived sequel to Iconostasis. It marks her long-awaited return to Magazzino, where the fabric and atmosphere of the gallery are so perfectly in harmony with her work.

L’ultima mostra importante di Katia Margolis al Magazzino, Palazzo Contarini-Polignac, è stata Iconostasis (2016), una raccolta di squisiti dipinti su blocchi da stampa recuperati, unificati dai temi dell’amore, della perdita, della memoria e della devozione.  La sua più recente mostra, Unpacking, è un sequel ampiamente concepito da Iconostasi.  Segna il suo tanto atteso ritorno al Magazzino, dove il tessuto e l’atmosfera della galleria sono così perfettamente in armonia con il suo lavoro.

The exhibition comprises three interlinked cycles of paintings completed over the last year: Unpacking, a series meditating on states of confinement and liberation occasioned by the pandemic; Devotion, a series of works on panel echoing the early Umbrian School; Vert-de-gris, a cycle of Venetian ink-and-wash drawings, alternately topographical and capriccesque in theme and treatment. The exhibition unifies Devotion and Vert-de-gris in a loosely liturgical arrangement, matching the grandeur and solemnity of the gallery and its texture. Unpacking is presented in its own discrete setting, an uplifting and cautiously festive coda illuminating the shared experience of the pandemic. All three components of the exhibition represent spiritual, intellectual and practical “unpacking” of various kinds, appropriate given the extent to which the pandemic has caused individuals and communities to reevaluate what for so long they have taken for granted.

La mostra comprende tre cicli di dipinti interconnessi realizzati durante quest’ultimo anno: Unpacking, una serie che medita sugli stati di confinamento e liberazione causati dalla pandemia;  Devozione, una serie di opere su pannelli che rievocano gli inizi della Scuola Umbra;  Vert-de-gris, un ciclo di disegni a china di Venezia, alcuni topografici e alcuni capriccesci nel tema e nel trattamento.  La mostra unifica Devotion e Vert-de-gris in un arrangiamento semi-liturgico, abbinando la grandezza e la solennità della galleria alla consistenza unica delle sue mura.  Unpacking è presentato in un ambiente discreto, una coda confortante e cautamente festosa che illumina l’esperienza condivisa della pandemia.  Tutti e tre i componenti della mostra rappresentano un “disimballaggio” spirituale, intellettuale e pratico. Questo si rivela molto appropriato alla luce della pandemia, la quale ha indotto individui e comunità a rivalutare ciò che per tanto tempo hanno dato per scontato.

One of the many subsidiary but insistent effects of the pandemic in Venice and elsewhere was an dramatically increased dependence on postal deliveries. Goods normally bought in local shops had to be bought online during the lockdowns. Boxes upon boxes arrived, like emergency parcels in a war zone, the excitement of opening them compensating in part for the inconvenience, and at times downright misery, of isolation. If the goods were bright messengers of continuing day-to-day life, the boxes were their unassuming but indispensable travelling companions. In her Unpacking cycle, Margolis has given them a voice, transforming them into visible metaphors of liberation, a setting-free and flourishing of hidden inner resources that many us, in that prolonged and difficult time, never knew we had. In this cycle of paintings, these prosaic and easily unconsidered objects are illuminated with an inner life and energy, unmistakably recalling aspects of the still lifes and interiors of Giorgio Morandi, Mikhail Roginsky and Vilhelm Hammershøi

Uno dei tanti effetti sussidiari ma importanti della pandemia a Venezia, ma anche altrove, è stata una grande crescita nella dipendenza dalle consegne postali.  Durante i lockdown, i beni che abitualmente acquistavamo nei negozi locali, dovevano invece essere acquistate online.  Arrivavano scatole su scatole, come pacchi d’emergenza in zona di guerra, e l’emozione di aprirle compensava in parte il disagio, e a volte la vera miseria, dell’isolamento.  E se i beni erano brillanti messaggeri della vita quotidiana che continuava a scorrere, le scatole erano le loro compagne di viaggio, semplici ma indispensabili.  Nel suo ciclo Unpacking, Margolis ha dato loro una voce, trasformandole in metafore visibili di liberazione, un sprigionamento e un fiorire di risorse interiori nascoste che molti di noi, in quel tempo prolungato e difficile, non sapevano di avere.  In questo ciclo di dipinti, questi oggetti prosaici e facilmente ignorabili sono illuminati con vita e energia interiori, rievocando senza alcun dubbio aspetti delle nature morte e degli interni di Giorgio Morandi, Mikhail Roginsky e Vilhelm Hammershøi.

The Vert-de-gris ink-and-wash series, emblematic of Venice’s eternal presence in Margolis’s work, speaks eloquently of the joy and melancholy of her adopted city. These drawings belong to a long and honourable tradition, upheld by comparatively few artists, of art that genuinely articulates the fugitive mysteries of Venice, its light and spirit, rather than performing a mere workaday recital of the surface appeal. Through this cycle, Margolis has once again proved herself a worthy participant in that tradition, of which Guardi, Turner, Ruskin and Sargent are the leading proponents. In Margolis’s work as in theirs, profound rather than superficial investigation brings with it precious revelations of both city and self, the fabric of the city becoming an extension of both artists’ and viewers’ inner lives.

La serie Vert-de-gris, emblematica dell’eterna presenza di Venezia nelle opere di Margolis, parla in modo eloquente della gioia e della malinconia della sua città adottiva.  Questi disegni appartengono a una lunga e onorevole tradizione, sostenuta da relativamente pochi artisti, di un’arte che articola genuinamente i misteri fugaci di Venezia, la sua luce e il suo spirito, piuttosto che una mera recita quotidiana del suo fascino superficiale.  Attraverso questo ciclo, Margolis si è dimostrata ancora una volta una degna partecipante a quella tradizione, di cui Guardi, Turner, Ruskin e Sargent sono i principali fautori.  Nel lavoro di Margolis, come nei loro, un’indagine profonda piuttosto che superficiale porta con sé preziose rivelazioni sia sulla città che sull’io. Il tessuto della città diventa un’estensione della vita interiore sia degli artisti che degli spettatori.

Looking to literary equivalents that mirror the tough quest for originality in the depiction of Venice, viewers may recall episodes in the works of three authors who, though separated by period and style, are unified by an intention to uncover both the elusive heart of the city and the inner life of their characters. Proust, who was a regular guest at this palazzo and a lifelong lover of Venice, set aside conventional description, memorably describing the palaces of the Grand Canal as resembling a “chain of marble cliffs”, miraculous creations that had appeared to grow from the waters like natural forms. Proust’s organic perception of Venice was later echoed by Brodsky, who likened the improbable structure of the city to “innumerable strands of coral reefs”. Dickens, realizing the limitations of the lively travelogue style he had deployed consistently throughout his Pictures from Italy, chose to frame the Venetian chapter as a dream, a highly effective means of recreating that curious miasma of the real and supernatural that permeates the city. Many years later, in Little Dorrit, Venice was to become a striking extension of his lonely child-heroine’s inner life, as she sensed her hopes, fears and past experiences reflected in the canals and embodied in the palaces.

Se si pensa agli equivalenti letterari che rispecchiano la dura ricerca dell’originalità nella rappresentazione di Venezia, i visitatori potrebbero ricordare episodi nelle opere di tre autori che, sebbene separati per epoca e stile, sono accomunati dall’intenzione di scoprire sia il cuore sfuggente della città sia la vita interiore dei loro personaggi.  Proust, che fu ospite fisso di questo palazzo e amante di Venezia per tutta la vita, respinse la scelta di fare descrizioni convenzionali, descrivendo invece i palazzi del Canal Grande come somiglianti a una “catena di scogliere di marmo”, creazioni miracolose che sembravano nascere dalle acque come forme naturali.  La percezione organica di Venezia di Proust è stata poi ripresa da Brodsky, che ha paragonato l’improbabile struttura della città a “una barriera corallina o una successione di grotte disabitate”.  Dickens, rendendosi conto dei limiti del vivace stile di diario di viaggio che aveva utilizzato costantemente in tutte le sue Immagini dall’Italia, scelse di inquadrare il capitolo veneziano come un sogno, un mezzo altamente efficace per ricreare quel curioso miasma del reale e del soprannaturale che permea la città.  Molti anni dopo, in Little Dorrit, Venezia sarebbe diventata un’estensione sorprendente della vita interiore della sua solitaria bambina-eroina che sentiva le sue speranze, paure ed esperienze passate riflesse nei canali e incarnate nei palazzi.

Margolis’s Devotion series was conceived during a prolonged sabbatical in Umbria, where she revisited the Basilica of San Francesco in Assisi, drawing inspiration from the early Italian masters, in particular Giotto, Simone Martini and Pietro Lorenzetti. Viewers may also hear echoes of antiquity, of ancient Roman frescoes and funerary art, of Byzantine imagery and, in Margolis’s more sculptural pieces, of the Hellenic tradition. As with the works previously shown in Iconostasis, the Devotion paintings are created on reclaimed material, in this case wooden planks, offcuts and discarded shutters. These gnarled surfaces, corrugated with natural knots, splinters, fissures and cracks, serve a dual purpose, simultaneously recalling the technique and feel of early paintings and endowing the images with a uniquely organic and sculptural quality.

La serie Devotion di Margolis è stata concepita durante un lungo anno sabbatico in Umbria, dove ha rivisitato la Basilica di San Francesco ad Assisi, traendo ispirazione dai primi maestri italiani, in particolare Giotto, Simone Martini e Pietro Lorenzetti.  I visitatori possono anche sentire echi dell’antichità, di antichi affreschi romani e arte funeraria, di immagini bizantine e, nei pezzi più scultorei di Margolis, della tradizione ellenica.  Come per le opere precedentemente mostrate in Iconostasi, i dipinti di Devotion sono creati su materiale di recupero, in questo caso tavole di legno, ritagli e persiane scartate.  Queste superfici nodose, definite da schegge, fessure e crepe, hanno un duplice scopo, richiamando infatti la tecnica e la sensazione dei primi dipinti, e conferendo alle immagini una qualità unicamente organica e scultorea.

‘Self Unpacked’ (left} and detail (above), from the Devotion series by Katia Margolis. Oil on reclaimed wood panel, 50 x 80 cm.

Aspects of Venice: Tutorials with Robin Saikia

The Palazzo Manzoni (now Contarini Polignac) by John Wharlton Bunney

All of the following are available to individual students as personal tutorials. To book one or more of these tutorials, please email scholartext@gmail.com


1. Winnaretta Singer, Princesse de Polignac: The Venice Years. (1 hour. 25 euros) The Venetian life of the great American patroness of the arts, who transformed her palace on the Grand Canal into a haven for composers and musicians.

2. The Marriage of the Doge to the Sea: Pageant and Propaganda. (1 hour. 25 euros) The sposalizio del mare, an overview of its fascinating origin and depth of meaning.

3. Writing about Venice: Charles Dickens and Marcel Proust. (1 hour. 25 euros) How two very different writers triumphantly approached the difficult and at times over-written topic of Venice.

4. Lord Byron in Venice (1 hour. 25 euros) An introduction to the Venetian life of one of the city’s great British expatriate residents.

5. The Venice Lido – a General Introduction. (1 hour. 25 euros) The important role throughout history of Venice’s now glamorous beach resort.

6. The “Cockney Village”: The Development of the Lido in the 19th Century. (1 hour. 25 euros) The controversial beginnings of modern tourism in Venice, as seen by Henry James, John Ruskin and others.

7. From D’Annunzio to Churchill: The Lido in the Twenties and Thirties. (1 hour. 25 euros) How Giuseppe Volpi and other entrepreneurs transformed the Lido into an international destination that competed with the French Riviera.

8. Gay Life in Venice: Lord Ronald Gower, Frederick Rolfe, A. E. Housman and others. (1 hour. 25 euros) Some colourful gay residents and tourists from the 19th and 20th centuries.

9. Gabriel Fauré and Reynaldo Hahn in Venice. (1 hour. 25 euros) A exploration of the two composers’ Venetian song cycles and of their friendship with Winnaretta Singer, Princesse de Polignac.

10. The Barbaro Circle. (1 hour. 25 euros) An introduction to the Palazzo Barbaro, focusing on John Singer Sargent, Henry James and Robert Browning.


Robin Saikia is a British author and lecturer. His published work includes The Venice LidoBlue Guide Literary Companion London, The Red Book: The Membership List of The Right Club,;Blue Guide Hay-on-WyeBlue Guide Italy Food Companion. His most recent work is A Very Fine Cat Indeed, a dramatic monologue in which Samuel Johnson celebrates his favourite cat, Hodge. Robin is a Fellow of The Royal Asiatic Society. Other memberships and affiliations include The Johnson Society of London, The Johnson Society (Lichfield), The Wykehamist Society and The Oxford Union.

The Palazzo Dario, Venice, in 1900

Henri de Régnier describes the fountain in the courtyard of Palazzo Dario. « une fontaine coule dans une cuve de marbre, et son bruit surcharge et semble faire déborder le silence auquel il s’ajoute, goutte à goutte«

Winnaretta Singer’s 1900 visit to Venice gave her an opportunity to see familiar friends from Paris, the comtesse Isabelle Gontran de la Baume-Pluvinel and her partner, the writer and photographer Augustine Bulteau. Augustine and their mutual friend Anna de Noailles had for some years been members of a discreet but formidable lesbian circle in Paris. The couple had bought the dilapidated Ca’Dario from its Hungarian owners in 1896 and soon completed a major program of restoration. Isabelle and Augustine created an agreeable salon at Ca’Dario, which Winnaretta describes in the following extract from her brief memoirs. The ‘incomplete’ ‘marble palace’ nearby was the single-storey Palazzo Venier dei Leoni which was to become, over half a century later, Peggy Guggenheim’s home. Today, it houses the Peggy Guggenheim Collection. 

Life in Venice was then absolutely delightful. The Countess de la Baume lived in the lovely Casa Dario, next door to the Giardino Barbier, which was at the back of a marble palace that had been begun in the seventeenth century and left incomplete, so that only the ground floor was finished and the large terrace overlooking the Grand Canal. On this terrace we often had coffee or dined in the afternoons.

The Countess de la Baume had made the Casa Dario a marvel of comfort and good taste, and had filled it with the finest pictures and the most precious books and musical instruments, and here congregated the fine fleur of Parisian art-lovers. I sometimes met at the Casa Dario the Comtesse de Noailles, and her wonderful and gifted sister the Princess Alexandre de Caraman-Chimay, for whom the youthful Marcel Proust had written a long dedication and preface in his recently published translation of Ruskin’s La Bible d’Amiens. Leon Daudet, then very young and one of the most brilliant and cultured men I have ever known, was a constant visitor, as was also Henri Gonse the collector, and the great poet Henri de Regnier and his talented wife, the daughter of the famous Heredia and herself a celebrated poet. They spent many months at a time at the Palazzo Barbier, where a few rooms had been repaired and made comfortable for the guests of the Comtesse de la Baume. After her death, the Marchesa Casati took the Palazzo Barbier [Winnaretta carelessly writes Barbier, when she meant Venier. Her brief memoirs, hastily completed for Horizon shortly before her death, contain the occasional slip-up. RS] – or rather the ground floor of this unfinished palace – and there had a series of fancy dress balls that are now legendary. At one of these balls, held at the time the Russian Ballet was at the height of its glory, she appeared at the top of the steps leading to the garden, in a wonderful costume designed by Bakst, with a tiger stretched out at her feet. The tiger had been drugged, but it was nevertheless extremely frightening, as one came up from a peaceful gondola, to find it lying on the steps of the palace. At the end of the party some of the guests took the tiger on to the Piazza, where quiet citizens who were leaving the theatres were terrified at its appearance. The incident provoked general censure. 

This was clearly a Venetian way of life to be relished, and it is easy to see why so many grand expatriates were drawn to it. Informal dinners overlooking the Grand Canal, not to mention the occasional appearance of a tiger, albeit a drugged one, undoubtedly made a welcome change from the comparatively restrained atmosphere of Mayfair or the Faubourg Saint-Germain.

Ruskin’s Lost Daguerrotypes

Carrying Off the Palaces; John Ruskin’s Lost Daguerrotypes by John and Jenny Jacobson is one of the most fascinating books of its kind to appear in the last decade. It was published by Bernard Quaritch, the London book dealers, who summarize it as follows. “The inspiration for this book was a remarkable discovery made by the authors at a small country auction in 2006. One lightly regarded lot was a distressed mahogany box crammed with long-lost early photographs. These daguerreotypes were later confirmed as once belonging to John Ruskin, the great 19th-century art critic, writer, artist and social reformer. Moreover, the many scenes of Italy, France and Switzerland included the largest collection of daguerreotypes of Venice in the world and probably the earliest surviving photographs of the Alps.”

Advice for aspiring authors – from William Plomer.

William Plomer (1903 – 1973) was a South African and British author, poet and literary editor. The extract below is from ‘The Typewritten Word’, a chapter in his Autobiography. It should be required reading for anyone who has the merest atom of a wish to put pen to paper. Here Plomer recalls his time at Jonathan Cape, where Edward Garnett had installed him as principal reader. Few wiser descriptions of authorial delusion–and the delinquencies of publishers–exist outside these few pages. Plomer made a number of ‘discoveries’ during his publishing career, two of which are of particular interest. One was the diary of the nineteenth century English clergyman, Francis Kilvert – a great masterpiece of its kind. The other, decidedly different, discovery was Ian Fleming’s James Bond, whom Plomer was the first to spot as a potential winner.

Plomer accepts Garnett’s invitation to work at Cape…

…the book referred to is Kilvert’s Diaries, the subject of a future post!