Porto Cervo | Art Galleries of Sardinia

So, we are back from our little art tour to Porto Cervo, on Sardinia's Costa Smeralda. Our destination was not the beaches or the marinas, but the town's art galleries. This remarkable place was conceived in the 1960s through the vision of Prince Aga Khan IV and brought to life by the architect Luigi Vietti.

We visited seven galleries, although three happened to be closed. Even so, one impression quickly became impossible to ignore: an overwhelming dominance of what is commonly labelled "contemporary art". More importantly, however, we met and spoke with several remarkable people whose passion and sincerity made each gallery far more memorable than many of the works on display.

Luigi Proietti Gallery

From the outside, Luigi Proietti Gallery, tucked away on Piazzetta degli Ulivi, radiates effortless luxury. Raised almost like a stage, its entrance invites passers-by with a carefully arranged display of sculptures placed beyond the doorway. A warrior stands guard on one side, an ancient golden skull on the other. Together they create an unmistakably provocative first impression. The warrior remains emotionally neutral, frozen in readiness, while the skull has already been granted immortality. Neither object tells a story. Yet both tempt you to step inside.

To the right of the skull, a golden leopard—apparently by the same artist—occupies the shop window. To the left hangs a gilded map of the world against a black background. Life has long since departed from these objects, yet their reflective surfaces still play elegantly with light and shadow. They project an illusion of luxury while remaining critically banal. None of them communicates an idea or evokes genuine emotion. They suggest only one thing: this must be expensive. Expensive because it shines.

Without the warrior, the absence of thought behind these gilded fragments seems to whisper only one message: "There is nothing to think about here. It's just a map, a skull and a leopard. Are they made of gold? Of course not. They're simply painted to look like gold. But what difference does that make? They glitter. Isn't that enough to make you curious? Step inside, and you'll find even more."

Da Vinci and Berlusconi Meet Again

Inside Luigi Proietti Gallery, we were greeted by a charming young lady who asked about our artistic preferences. The provocation outside had done its job. My eyes wandered from one gilded spectacle to another before settling on the paintings. They skimmed across the familiar splashes of contemporary art, only to be drawn back—as if by hallucination—to the very first canvas. My brain refused to accept what it had just seen. Kneeling reverently at the feet of a hastily reproduced Mona Lisa was Silvio Berlusconi.

For a moment, I simply stood there, trying to make sense of it. The theatrical entrance with its golden sculptures made perfect sense: a visual invitation to step inside. But this? This demanded an explanation. I descended into the artist's train of thought almost instantly.

"I'll take two of Italy's most recognisable icons. One is a masterpiece of the past. The other, a masterpiece of Italian politics, charisma, scandal and television. I'll put them together on a single canvas, copy everything square by square, soften the edges... A brilliant artistic provocation."

My thoughts drifted somewhere beyond this world, to a place where Leonardo da Vinci and Berlusconi are not bound together by history, yet suddenly find themselves trapped inside another artist's idea. There, across the silence of eternity, they seem to share the very same thought.

"Another masterpiece built upon our bones. Separately, we've grown used to it. But together? Why are we together, Silvio?"
"And why are you with your girl, Leonardo?"

— "I never wanted to sleep with your Mona Lisa, Leonardo," says Silvio. "At least... I don't remember ever wanting to."

— "Oh, come now, Silvio. He didn't even have the courage to paint that. Instead, he chose the easier path. I don't mind, but I do regret one thing: he never spent his canvas on an emotion of his own. He spent it on our names. People have stood before my paintings for five centuries. Your scandals have barely had time to cool. Yet he folded both into a single composition and called it an original idea. The canvas remained empty; only borrowed fame clung to the paint. And do you know what? Someone will buy it. Just to appear a little more intelligent."

With that, Leonardo da Vinci and Silvio Berlusconi dissolved once more into eternity. I left my business card. The young lady smiled and assured us that Signor Luigi would certainly call. Gabriel and I stepped out of Luigi Proietti Gallery wearing the kind of smile that appears only after witnessing something impossible to explain.

Later, while reviewing the footage, I noticed a calligraphic painting displayed edge-on in the window, almost invisible among the theatrical abundance of gold. For the first time, I sensed the presence of an artist patiently wrestling with his own language, tracing mysterious symbols across the canvas. Suddenly, I realised that somewhere inside Luigi Proietti Gallery, there exists seventy by fifty centimetres of genuine meaning. Or perhaps I simply failed to notice the rest. One day I'll return, look more carefully into the corners, share an espresso with Signor Proietti, and perhaps together we'll remember Luigi Vietti—and why this place began with him.

Edward Spitz Gallery

We continue along the Promenade and climb onto one of Porto Cervo's tiny piazzas. To our left, bright cartoon figures immediately catch the eye. A cheerful Scrooge McDuck and Disney's ever-smiling Mickey Mouse seem determined to lure passers-by inside. We quicken our pace and step into Edward Spitz Gallery.

The familiar faces from childhood lose their appeal the moment we meet Helena. Her quiet elegance effortlessly eclipses the glossy Disney icons surrounding us. She invites us upstairs, where the atmosphere changes completely. Here, Marlon Brando as The Godfather shares the walls with Al Pacino from Scarface, while the timeless smile of Queen Elizabeth completes the pantheon of twentieth-century legends. A few minutes later, we return downstairs to continue our conversation with Helena.

She explains the gallery's philosophy in two simple words: contemporary art. There is little to add. The concept is immediately recognisable—popular cultural icons carrying the native values of our own age. Scrooge McDuck, proudly clutching his sacks of money, is undoubtedly the star of the exhibition, though somehow not the soul of the gallery. We say our goodbyes almost reluctantly, carrying away not the polished images on the walls, but the memory of Helena herself—a reminder that genuine emotional depth still belongs to people far more than to the objects surrounding them.

The following day we returned to wish Helena a Merry Christmas—six months ahead of schedule. After a quick glance at the gleaming billionaire duck still guarding his dollar bags, we promised her we would come back. And we will. One day we'll share an espresso during the afternoon siesta and talk about a wealthy prince named Shah Karim al-Husseini, better known as Aga Khan IV, who chose not to measure wealth in money bags, but instead invested it in creating a place as extraordinary as Porto Cervo.

Simone Bart Gallery

It is impossible to walk past Simone Bart Gallery in Porto Cervo without noticing it. Quite literally, you find yourself looking straight into the heart of contemporary art. Eight sculpted hearts stood proudly on pedestals, framed by monumental canvases depicting enlarged fingerprints and the Italian flag. There was something deeply personal about the exhibition—something almost physical, as though it belonged not only to the eye, but to the human body itself.

While speaking with the remarkably perceptive Signora Bart, an unexpected image came to mind. Looking at those eight hearts, I suddenly imagined placing each one inside its own separate room, divided by walls. And then I remembered Roger Waters' immortal words: "Tear down the wall."

Signora Bart kindly introduced us to her son, Luca, and what followed was a thoughtful conversation about the painting tradition of the Gostev's dynasty. We agreed that this would not be the end of our meeting. Quite the opposite—it will continue when we meet Luca and Simone in person, as we had already arranged.

We left with genuine admiration for the Bart family—their professionalism, openness, sense of responsibility, and sincere willingness to build something together.

Deodato Arte Gallery

We wandered into Deodato Arte Gallery, overlooking the Waterfront Costa Smeralda Marina, late in the evening. At that hour Porto Cervo settles into its own unhurried rhythm. Music drifts through the warm air, cafés are filled with people lingering over exotic cocktails, and beneath your feet the wooden promenade—built like the deck of a yacht—creaks softly with every step. Have you ever seen a street furnished with elegant armchairs and deep sofas, as though someone had transformed an entire marina into the terrace of a luxurious villa? The superyachts moored alongside complete the illusion of domestic comfort. Porto Cervo seems to whisper the same message everywhere you look: this harbour was never meant to compete with the theatrical glamour of Monaco. It was created for those who value privacy more than spectacle.

Inside Deodato Arte Gallery, we were welcomed by Carolina Grimaldi, together with an entire company of BE@RBRICK figures, sculptural gorillas by Richard Orlinski, an original work by Banksy, and a colourful parade of melting ice creams and oversized spray cans—objects that seemed to celebrate the speed, brightness and disposability of our plastic age. Everything was vivid, fluorescent and unapologetically decorative.

At the time of our visit, the gallery specialised in contemporary art, exhibiting reproductions by artists such as iClim, Yayoi Kusama, Jeff Koons, David Kracov and Andy Warhol, alongside works representing Pop Art and Street Art. The Banksy, however, was original.

It reminded me of another fashion from years ago, when people proudly filled their display cabinets with crystal or porcelain. Today's art market has simply replaced those collections with plastic figurines carrying a different label: "fashionable" and "investment-worthy." I found myself thinking about my daughter and the plastic figures she collected as a child, spending every bit of her pocket money on them. A few years later, the entire "collection" ended up in a recycling bin marked Plastic. Around that same time, Renata Gostev picked up a brush for the first time and began painting.

The exhibition at Deodato Arte Gallery revolves around commercially successful Pop Art and Street Art: colours that immediately seize the eye, instantly recognisable imagery, decorative appeal and visual impact above all else. Many of the works feel less like invitations to reflect than carefully designed interior pieces intended to complete a contemporary living space. Against the warm, understated elegance of Porto Cervo, that contrast becomes impossible to ignore. We spent some time talking with Carolina about art, Porto Cervo, and the Gostev dynasty, exchanged impressions, and after a warm, relaxed conversation thanked our new acquaintance for her hospitality before continuing our evening walk along the promenade.

As we made our way along the marina, something aboard the superyacht Stella M immediately caught our attention. Mounted in illuminated, climate-protected display cases on the aft salon wall hung two magnificent paintings that instantly brought Alexej von Jawlensky to mind. Here was living painting—confident, authentic and entirely at home aboard a yacht worth hundreds of millions. Those two canvases seemed to speak for themselves: this is what truly collectible art looks like. Nowhere inside Stella M did we notice plastic decorative objects or canvases covered with paint casually poured from a bucket. Draw your own conclusions.

Louise Alexander Gallery

Unfortunately, Louise Alexander Gallery was closed. A waiter at the neighbouring Zamira Lounge kindly told us it would reopen in July and offered to pass our Gostev's business card on to the owner. Through the gallery windows we could make out a series of watercolours by the same artist. Semi-abstract faces looked back at us, speaking quietly of human suffering and the fragile condition of existence. They were thoughtful works, executed with remarkable skill. Watercolour is, after all, one of the most demanding disciplines in painting.

"Professional," I found myself thinking. Yet another question kept drilling into my mind: "Would I actually want to live with a painting like this?"

For a moment I imagined waking up each morning, opening my eyes, and finding a face filled with suffering staring back at me from the wall, silently colouring the day before it had even begun. No. I would gladly visit an exhibition devoted entirely to works like these. I would spend hours looking at them, speak with the artist, reflect on the tragedy of the human condition, perhaps even leave feeling changed. I would happily pay for that experience. But I would not pay to hang suffering on the wall of my own home.

Magnificent exhibition pieces. Just not companions for everyday life.

Lamaro Arte Gallery

This gallery left an unexpectedly strong impression on me. Its walls were completely bare. Not a single painting had yet been hung. Instead, there was a stepladder, a hammer, and a man driving a nail into the wall. As it turned out, he was the owner himself. He could easily have hired a team of decorators, yet he had chosen to prepare the gallery with his own hands. There was something deeply reassuring about that. We plan to return to Lamaro Arte in July. Perhaps, together, we'll help fill those empty walls.

The Porto Cervo Breeze

Our first art tour to northern Sardinia had come to an end. We headed home to the new Gostev's studio in the heart of the island. After years of living with European distances, we still find it difficult to believe how close everything is here. An hour and a half later—with an unplanned stop at the beach in Porto Rotondo—we were back home, quietly absorbing everything Porto Cervo had left us to think about.

Whenever I try to sum up Porto Cervo, my thoughts drift not to the present, but back to the 1960s—to the moment this extraordinary place first existed only as a vision. I imagine a young, intelligent and inspired Prince Aga Khan IV standing before a wild coastline untouched by roads, infrastructure or development. The sea breeze stirs his hair as his gaze follows the shoreline to the point where the Mediterranean disappears into the sky. He sees not empty land, but a dream. Then, little by little, the dream begins to take shape: a marina, whitewashed houses, hidden beaches, sails catching the wind, and people arriving not merely to spend money, but to breathe the same sea air and share a small corner of paradise.
Gostev Jr.

Principe Aga Khan IV, Begum Salimah Aga Khan

Guided by the vision of Prince Aga Khan IV, and through his investment in the architecture and spirit of Porto Cervo, he, together with Luigi Vietti, Jacques Couëlle, Michele Busiri Vici and Savin Couëlle, created something far greater than an exclusive resort. They gave shape to a place where simplicity became a form of luxury. A place sculpted as though by a giant's hand, where the sea breeze, Mediterranean light and sun-warmed clay walls fill every villa, café and narrow street with an effortless sense of warmth, serenity and life.

Exhibitions of the Gostev's Dynasty Art Collection

We are exceptionally selective when choosing venues to exhibit the Gostev's dynasty collection. Works with a starting value of €100,000 deserve more than simply being displayed—they deserve the right setting. Yet our choice of exhibition space is guided by far more than the purchasing power of its visitors. Acquiring a Gostev painting requires more than financial means; it calls for a deeper understanding of what the work represents. Only a handful of paintings will ever enter private collections. This is genuine investment art—the legacy of "The Last Artist", as Anatoli Gostev Sr. came to be known among European audiences.

Our intention to exhibit the Gostev's dynasty collection in Porto Cervo is, above all, a tribute to the living creative energy first breathed into this extraordinary place by Prince Aga Khan IV, Luigi Vietti, Jacques Couëlle, Michele Busiri Vici and Savin Couëlle.
Gostev's

If you are interested in exhibiting, viewing or acquiring investment paintings by the Gostev's dynasty, we would be pleased to hear from you through our contact form.