A fortified castle on a tiny Italian island suspended between sea and sky
I found Il Monastero by chance one afternoon when I was lost in another of my Google Maps spirals (hours spent scanning the globe and starring places that I might visit in the future). This one stayed with me: a small hotel in a former convent with rooms carved out of the nuns' cells, set within a medieval fortress suspended above the sea off the coast of Ischia in the Gulf of Naples. It could only be spectacular.
And so, months later, there I was, lugging my suitcase some 200 metres across a pedestrian bridge that connects Ischia to Castello Aragonese. In a discreet elevator drilled up through the rock, I entered a place one could hardly anticipate. Crossing corridor after corridor - under vaulted ceilings, past walls hung with Francis Bacon-style paintings and along cool terracotta floors - I arrived at the doors of Il Monastero, which I would soon discover is just a fraction of the reclusive world of the Mattera family, who still inhabit the imposing rocky islet.
‘As a child living in the castle, it was strange because there was a distance between us and the rest of the main island,’ says Nicola Mattera, the son of Italian painter Gabriele Mattera and his German wife Karin. ‘We went to school on the island, but our friends didn't come over for visits - the castle was thought of as dangerous and eerie, because it wasn't restored as you see it now. It was a different way of growing up.’ Together with his sister Cristina, Nicola has carried on the vision of his parents, who began organising art and cultural exhibitions here in the 1960s and slowly restored each section of the building using funds from ticket sales.
Today, Aragonese is a long way from frightening and rundown. As I walk round the beautifully maintained gardens and pathways leading up and down different levels of the stone complex, the Tyrrhenian Sea appears between olive trees and vistas framed by medieval ruins. While much is out of public reach - including underground tunnels and the lower courtyards that house Nicola and Cristina's quarters - several churches, a cathedral and crypt, a prison, a nuns' cemetery and the original wine cellars and mills all form part of this open-air museum. You can feel the centuries of' history under your feet, suspended between sea and sky.
The Mattera family's imprint at Aragonese began in 1912, when Gabriele's lawyer father purchased it at auction and took up residence in the abandoned castle. Following his death in the 1960s, it was passed to his son, who moved in with Karin. ‘There was no electricity, no water, no roofs,’ recalls Nicola. ‘My father organised for my mother to have a bathroom; no one had something like that here before.’
From this single room, the couple began what would become a lifelong project. Gabriele was a talented but modest painter who held only two exhibitions at the castle. The aforementioned Bacon-esque paintings turn out to be his. Gabriele deviated from this style during different periods of his practice, and some of his art is displayed in Aragonese - most dramatically in the vaulted space that is now a studio and shop, filled with his archive, and a selection of books, jewellery, ceramics and objects for sale.
Nicola and Cristina established the Amici di Gabriele Mattera association to preserve and share their father's works; this year, they have broadened it out to establish the Fondazione Karin e Gabriele Mattera. New collaborations with other institutions are bringing contemporary artists into the castle, including Allegra Hicks, who took over the Church of the Immaculate Conception last year with her exhibition, Divinazione. ‘I remember vividly the restoration of the church in 1979, when I was 10 years old,’ says Nicola. ‘It had been destroyed and my father bought many pieces to remake the structure. They carried everything up here on foot. He had the idea of bringing modern art into the space and put all his energy into it.’
Growing up fascinated by the constant restoration work around his home fuelled Nicola's interest in architecture. He went on to study it in Naples and, at the age of 18, was thrown into his first big project: to design the Il Monastero hotel in the 16th-century convent. ‘At the start, it was very difficult,’ he confesses. ‘But, in a way, it was for the better, because I was free to create instinctively.’
Before this intervention, travellers wishing to stay were given sheets and candles for the night in the convent, and the hotel today retains this simplicity, where nothing exists out of place. But in all that has been given pride of place here, you can see the meticulous taste and vision behind it.
Nicola and Cristina have also added a restaurant and café within the castle, using produce from the kitchen garden and working with a new generation of young Ischian farmers, as agriculture has had a revival on the island. ‘The most important thing for me is to maintain the atmosphere,’ says Nicola. ‘For example, not having too many tables in the restaurant, even though there's space and we are booked up all summer. Not to add more rooms to the hotel. I want silence; to make people feel this place. When I asked my father how to choose what to do next, he always said, “Don't worry, the castle will choose.”’ It is no small task – only requiring generations of devotion.
Rooms at Il Monastero cost from €150, B&B, and tasting menus at La Cucina del Monastero from €110 (ilmonasterocastelloaragoneseischia.com). Castello Aragonese is the venue for the annual Ischia Film Festival and it has a programme of art exhibitions (castelloaragoneseischia.com).
Mark Anthony Fox1/5La Cucina del Monastero’s chef Michelangelo Iacono.
Mark Anthony Fox2/5The restaurant’s terrace.
Mark Anthony Fox3/5Dishes feature Ischian flavours.
Mark Anthony Fox4/5The siblings in the convent garden, with the dome of the Church of the Immaculate Conception
Mark Anthony Fox5/5The once derelict Church of the Immaculate Conception is used to host contemporary art exhibitions, such as Allegra Hicks’ Divinazione, which included this sculpture draped in red velvet
