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From the moment I stepped off the plane at Marco Polo Airport, it was clear my visit to Venice would be the stuff of fantasy. I was met at the private water taxi berth by an elegant mahogany motoscafo driven by a disarmingly handsome Italian man in dark sunglasses, who whisked us through the lagoon and toward the city’s main cluster of islands. Bleary-eyed from my red-eye from New York, much like Aschenbach, Thomas Mann’s famous Venice visitor, I was shaken awake by the wind in my hair and the sight of sun-dappled churches hanging over the canals. After arriving at a dock, my bag was spirited away by a bellhop as another guided me through a tiny calle to the enormous arched doorway of the new Nolinski Venezia, the first foray of the French EVOK hotel group outside of its native country.
EVOK is known for marrying modern design with classic luxury all with a “carnivalesque spirit”—and the Nolinski is no different. The hotel is housed in the former stock exchange of Venice, a fittingly magisterial building on the Calle Larga XXII Marzo, a prime shopping street just off the Piazza San Marco. The building is enormous by Venetian standards—it was the first reinforced concrete structure in the city—and even with its modern proportions, it retains the ornate craftsmanship characteristic of the Italian city. Its façade is decorated with mythical creatures, while the gate is crafted from Art Nouveau wrought iron; its floors, on the other hand, are swathed in a meticulously restored terrazzo and its walls are made from a beautifully mottled stucco marmorino.
As the building is a landmark, the French Italian designers Yann Le Coadic and Alessandro Scotto made sure to preserve its original features: from the grand staircase banister, to the original Murano chandeliers, down to the bulletin board in the lobby, a vestige of its days as the Chamber of Commerce. Of course, there are plenty of new additions, too. The furniture is modern—Art Deco-inspired baby pink velvet chairs line the colonnaded lobby—and alongside the classic preserved Murano light fixtures sit contemporary pieces, also made in Murano by artist Mariapia Bellis of Avem.
Each of the 43 rooms, 13 of which are suites, has a unique design and layout—meaning there is genuinely no bad room. Some have bathrooms as large as the living space with a monumental tub in the center. Others have towering vaulted ceilings or original Murano chandeliers offset by mango wood joinery. But what they all share is an unerring luxuriousness (and contemporary art selected by curator Amélie du Chalard). My room—which, even with the beauty of La Serenissima surrounding me, was so cozy it was difficult to leave—was decorated with the hotel’s signature scalloped powder pink sofa and overlooked the Gucci and Saint Laurent stores across the street. Not only did it provide excellent people-watching, but it also somehow sated my desire to shop. Although I did have to stop by the nearby Piedàterre Venezia store for a pair of their original Venetian slippers.
The most breathtaking view, of course, is from the top floor pool: as the stock exchange is one of the tallest buildings in Venice, the wraparound windows allow for a 360-degree view of the city. It’s a sight to behold—gold mosaic tiles line the entirety of the pool, offset by the grey stone walls—and when the golden evening light filters in it’s surely one of the most spectacular rooms in all of Venice. (After your soak, don’t forget to descend to the spa with a program by Swiss Alpine spa La Colline, offering facials and massages in a serene treatment room with Ottoman-inspired, soothing décor.)
No less alluring is the intimate library bar, tucked away just off the third-floor lobby. Its cocooning elegance is offset by a ceiling fresco entitled Qui i ricci di mare sono stelle (which roughly translates to “Here sea urchins are stars”) by artist Simon Buret. The fresco offers a surrealist take on the celestial, playing off the Murano glass sea creatures and metal octopi that decorate each room. As befits a library bar, the walls are lined with over 4,000 books, almost half of which are about art, sourced by independent book dealer Anatole Desachy. If you’re really there to read, each evening the bar features a different subtly flavored water—but the cocktails are unmissable, as inventive as they are delicious.
Although Venice isn’t traditionally thought of as the culinary capital of Italy, the food at the Nolinski is worth making a trip for. Overseen by Philip Chronopoulos, the chef at two-Michelin star restaurant Palais Royal in Paris, the fare at the Nolinski offers a vibrant, modern spin on Italian cuisine. Il Caffé, the ground-floor restaurant is open for all-day dining in its plant-filled courtyard and serene indoor space, and serves Venetian food with a pan-Mediterranean twist. Start with cicchetti—Venice’s version of tapas—and progress through particularly delicious yellowtail carpaccio and gnocchi cacio e pepe.
The grander dishes like the lobster linguine and whole salt-crusted seabass are showstopping, especially when prepared tableside by the charming seasoned head waiter (who, it turns out, was poached from Cipriani’s). A host of desserts are available– including a hazelnut profiterole, a nod to EVOK’s Parisian roots—but the ice creams and sorbets are the real standout. (I’m still thinking about the pairing of a delicate fior de latte with peach sorbet.) In the main dining room, a cavernous room with a seven-meter ceiling, once the trading floor of the stock exchange, will play host to a Venetian outpost of Palais Royal, opening in April for those seeking a fine-dining fix. For now, it serves an a la carte breakfast, including devilishly rich scrambled eggs with caviar.
What really makes Nolinski Venezia stand out, though, is the attention to detail. Each suite is already equipped with a Dyson hair dryer, but after marketing director Solenn Gubri realized that people often come to Venice for events like the Biennale and film festival—not to mention the lavish balls—she made sure Dyson Airwrap systems are also available to borrow from reception. I mentioned in passing that, in a Tylenol PM-induced state, I had left my travel adapter plugged into the wall at the airport; lo and behold, there was one plugged in next to my bed by the time I got back from a walk. Unlike my friend Aschenbach, I experienced the beauty of Venice and enjoyed every minute. But I did experience a twinge of sadness knowing that, if I ever do come back, anything but the Nolinski will feel like a downgrade.