Villa San Giuliano Residency
Villasmundo, Sicily | Spring 2024
During the Spring of 2024, I spent 4 weeks in residency at the mesmerizing Villa San Giuliano in South Eastern Sicily, drawing and painting full time as my dear collaborator Gregg Orifici worked in the gardens and wrote poetry inspired by the moment and place. Below are my own works from this period, interspersed with one of Gregg’s essay and poem.
David Brewster, 2024
Villa San Giuliano, Villasmundo, Sicily
Sicilian Sojourn
David Brewster, Teatro Bellini, graphite and oil pastel, 2024
Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament, graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
San Giuliano
In the rich lavic soils of Sicily, with a breath of sea and twinkling Catania, lies the glorious garden of San Giuliano. Lush with palms, succulents and well-armed cacti; jasmine, lavender and so many sages; rare trees from the sub-tropics the world over, and every type of citrus imaginable, littering the Arab garden— with its marble persian carpet-patterned pathways lined with irrigation channels—like bocce balls.
The rosy 15th century palazzo with its attached church dripping with bougainvilia, is the centerpiece of the property where Australian grass, dragon, and ancient olive trees mingle with a myriad of roses, papyrus and giant aloe, and an organic orange orchard of around 160 acres. A mind-blowing wildflower garden will grow anywhere the Sicilian earth is undisturbed, and the estate’s organic citrus orchard becomes a dazzling mosaic of oxalis, borage, poppies, scabiosa, mallow, asphodel, allium and calendula (and who knows what else!). Views of snow-capped and smoke-ringed Mt. Etna stop your heart at every turn. An endless allee’ of Washington palms seems to take you right there.
This spring, mud season in Vermont, I had the privilege of working alongside the lovely gardeners of this magnificent property, writing poems after work by the lichened statue of Bellini in the Arab garden, and being a guest of the marchesi di San Giuliano. David joined me as an artist in residence, discovering in pencil and paint the beauty of the gardens, the undulating countryside, and the crumbling majesty of ancient structures. Most remarkable to us both, was the warmth and generosity of the people we encountered.
Gregg Orifici, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
graphite and oil pastel, 2024
Etna’s garden
dama vulcana
she speaks to me
in the garden
at times she wears her fresh white veil
or she’s shy for days
she forges rare rings of love
that marry her
to this fertile land
where again and again
she empties her cavernous womb
non disturbarmi
she tells me as I lay down my zapa
do not disturb
the fecund earth the soil of my belly
is alive—but only
what you cannot see
so let it be
my minestrone ricco
below the surface
do not disturb me
she says
I do not wish the secrets of my soul
uncovered
what we call weeds
are her bella famiglia
the poppies that scatter their seed
let them live
she bellows
glory to the gladioli
warriors spearing through lava
Etna’s many painted fingers
admire me!
there is a place where
giant fennel and scabiosa
oxalis and queen Anne’s lace
dance circles
around olive and pompelmi rossi—
dama vulcana knows
that place
should not be whacked
and mowed
like a crabgrass prato
it disturbs her sleep
so per favore
non disturbarmi
it makes my belly ache
she says—and
rumble
Gregg Orifici, 2024