Country Culture

Soledad and Alessandro Twombly's home in Italy is a paradise of his art, her bohemian style, and their family's love of furniture with well-worn good looks.

Text by Vicky Lowry, photographed and produced by Miguel Flores-Vianna


When it comes to their home in the hill country north of Rome, everything old is new again for artist Alessandro Twombly and his fashion-designer wife, Soledad. The handsome white farmhouse, situated on a 14-acre hazelnut plantation, dates to the 1800's. With a few exceptions, such as a clean lined upholstered armchair and modern slipcovered sofas, the weathered furnishings seem almost as ancient as the nearby hills, which were settled millennia ago by the Etruscans. Antique country tables, benches, armoires, Berber rugs, carvings from Rajasthan, and found objects such as fossils and volcanic stones--all have been assembled with the couple's collaborative discerning eye. "There's such beauty in things that are old, scarred and abandoned," Soledad says. "To me, that's real luxury."

Known for her worldly one-of-a-kind garments, Soledad and her husband, the only child of celebrated American painter Cy Twombly, found the house of their dreams nine years ago, after moving to Italy from New York City with their two children. (Son Caio is now 12, and daughter Maia is 9.) For Alessandro the relocation was a homecoming of sorts. He was born in Rome, where his Virginian father and Italian mother, Baroness Tatiana Franchetti, a portraitist, settled after they wed in 1959.

The young Twombly's plan for their country residence -- they maintain an apartment in Rome, where Soledad's fashion company, Sole by Soledad Twombly, is based -- was to remove enough walls to turn its eight small rooms into four spacious ones. Stone arches on the first floor were enlarged to maximize light and give the historic house the feeling of a loft. But when renovations began, workers unexpectedly uncovered the beautiful bones of the original structure. Nondescript drop ceilings installed by a previous owner were ripped down to reveal carved ones hand-painted by local artisans almost 200 years ago. One is signed "Nazareno from Capranica," identifying the artist to be from a village two miles away. "We saved what we could and just left them as they were," Soledad explains. Because of the shifting of walls to expand the interiors, she adds, "sometimes there are two different ceilings in one room. Basically it's very shabby chic."

From century old tables to beds covered in cheerful cotton fabrics designed by Soledad, the decor is a laid-back counterpart to the debonair lifestyle and Empire furniture of Alessandro's parents (the family was memorably photographed by Horst in 1996 living in a soigne palazzo flat in Rome). In addition to the farmhouse's lived-in appearance, humble architecture, and worm furnishings, it features a few practical improvements for a modern young family. Up-to-date baths were installed as well as a new stove, though the rest of the kitchen remains comfortingly old-fashioned.

Not much else about the property has changed. A conservatory was added to accommodate the lemon trees nurtured by Alessandro, a passionate gardener who lives here full-time. (Soledad stays in Rome most of the week with the children, who attend school there.) When the trees are moved outdoors in warm weather, the glass-enclosed, warehouse like space serves as a gallery for many of the artist's sculptures, organic forms ranging in material from bronze to a mixture of resin and marble dust. He works in a free-standing paint-splattered studio nearby, where he also creates canvases that fall somewhere between figurative and abstract. Below this dominion is a cellar -- a de rigueur feature of any respectable Italian farmhouse -- where Alessandro ferments Montepulciano grapes grown on the property for a quaff he describes as "simple table wine, without pretension."

Though the couple has collected "a zillion objects," according to Soledad, the rooms of the house feel curiously uncrowded. Many pieces -- such as a pine cupboard from South Tyrol (where the Franchetti family castle is located) and a modest 19th- century table in the dining area, as well as many of Alessandro's paintings -- have been placed against or close to the walls to ensure plenty of breathing room. "I prefer to have lots of empty space, which comes from where I grew up," says Soledad, an effervescent Argentine who was raised on the pampas, the country's cattle-ranch heartland. There's also a romantic element in the decision to keep the floor clear. "I leave a lot of room," she adds flirtatiously, "with the idea that someone will take me to dance." That someone is her husband, whom she met 15 years ago in New York City. "We got married three months after the day we met," Soledad recalls. "It was all so fantastic and fast. We are going backwards," she continues. "We got married, and now we are getting to know each other."

Perhaps the most dramatic enhancements to the Twomblys' home can be seen outdoors, where Alessando's green thumb labors overtime. Acorns he picked up on long-ago excursions to Central Park have become vigorous 12-15 foot oak saplings. Many of the flower bulbs the artist acquired on travels through the Middle East, primarily irises and tulips, proved too delicate to survive in this part of Italy, despite the temperate climate. Alessandro's fruit trees however have thrived: cherries, plums, peaches, and apples, all heirloom hybrids shipped from a nursery near Florence. A thousand newly planted olive trees on the property now supply the kitchen with olive oil. As Soledad says with an indulgent smile, "This is really my husband's paradise."