I first visited the “Floating City” for the Venice Biennale when I was eight, during a family trip to Italy, and it would become a gateway for my love of historical and cultural destinations. Like Paris, the city that most has my heart, Venice is bursting with art, history, and romance around every corner (and even down those countless dead ends).

Each time I visit Venice, I follow a series of traditions, including a solo aperitivo at the Hotel Danieli, where the eminent Italian poet, novelist, and war hero Gabriele D’Annunzio planned a breakfast for the Marchesa Casati—she, the former resident of what is now the Peggy Guggenheim Collection—to meet Giovanni Boldini, my all-time favorite artist. It was when the Marchesa’s signature strands of pearls broke and fell to the floor that the Italian painter locked eyes with his future muse, leading to a series of spellbinding portraits that would become the subject of my NYU Costume Studies master’s thesis. But this year, while the Hotel Danieli was undergoing renovations—it’s soon to become a Four Seasons hotel—I found thrilling Marchesa-approved alternatives, including a visit to her friend and lover D’Annunzio’s idyllic estate on Lake Garda.

As for Venice, I only had three days to visit the Biennale and the countless collateral exhibitions and events, so I had to be selective. Here is an accounting of my jam-packed week—and a few tips for how to spend own your trip to Venice.

Day 1: Biennale– and Bottega—Bound, Plus Jordan Roth’s Palazzo Performance

With only three days in Venice, it was crucial for me to visit the main Biennale sites in one day. My first stop was the Giardini della Biennale, which I liken to an art-world EPCOT. I made my way to the Central Pavilion, where the vision of Koyo Kouoh, the Biennale’s late artistic director, comes through most vividly. Kouoh, the executive director and chief curator of the Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa in Cape Town until her sudden death last year, made history as the first African woman selected to curate the Biennale. Kouoh conceived the 61st International Art Exhibition, titled “In Minor Keys” (open through November 22), as a musical metaphor: “If, in music, the minor keys are often associated with strangeness, melancholy, and sorrow, here their joy, solace, hope, and transcendence manifest as well,” the curator wrote in an essay. She added, “The 61st edition of the Biennale Arte is grounded in a deep belief in artists as the vital interpreters of the social and psychic condition and catalysts of new relations and possibilities.”

Throughout the exhibition were artists responding to generational traumas with work that encouraged healing through spirituality and nature. Dreamscape-inspired installations and an air of mysticism were pervasive, and I particularly took note of a vast array of textile-based works. (Favorites included those by South Africa-based artists Thania Petersen and Billie Zangewa, as well as Annalee Davis, who lives and works on the former Barbados plantation where her Creole family resided for generations.) Matching the whimsy of Davis’s embroidered and appliquéd works emblazoned with plant imagery (both conveying notions of femininity and climate urgency) were Beverly Buchanan’s tchotchke-covered Spirit Jars, which conjure the artist’s memories as a Black woman living in the South. These sculptures were influenced by the “memory jugs” left on unmarked African-American graves, often along with a memento from the deceased. Another standout was Cuban artist Maria Magdalena Campos-Pons’s eight-panel portrait of Kouoh and Toni Morrison, the first Black woman to win the Nobel Prize in literature, and resin and glass magnolia sculptures.

I then attempted to see as many of the individual country pavilions as I could. While I didn’t manage to catch any human bells at the much-talked-about Austrian pavilion, I did get to put my maternal instinct to the test at the Japanese Pavilion (if you didn’t get a selfie with a sunglasses-wearing baby doll, did you even visit the Venice Biennale!?). My standouts were Adriana Varejão at the Brazilian Pavilion (especially her tile-like ceiling paintings) and Sung Tieu’s and Henrike Naumann’s confrontations with their country’s turbulent history at the German Pavilion.

After a quick cicchetti break, I walked to the Arsenale, where my favorite contributions were highly architectural, site-specific installations from India, Morocco, and Saudi Arabia. India’s pavilion poetically grappled with the idea of home as something one carries within oneself rather than a fixed location. I found Sumakshi Singh’s weblike recreation of her demolished childhood home especially compelling with its intricately threaded, translucent passageways. For its first official national pavilion within the Arsenale, the Kingdom of Morocco was represented by Amina Agueznay, who embraced centuries-old craftsmanship and the ritual of weaving in her monumental, textured installation. Imagining the Saudi Arabian Pavilion like an archaeological site, Dana Awartani produced a sprawling mosaic floor evoking those found in heritage sites across the Arab world, which have never been more vulnerable to man-made destruction.

From there, I headed to the Cannaregio district to visit Palazzo Bottega Veneta, a gorgeous private space that the Veneto-founded company opened in 2024. In the setting of a 15th-century Gothic palace, clients can further immerse themselves in Bottega Veneta’s artisanal world, where the house’s signature intrecciato woven leather is echoed in grand wooden doors and fringed lamps alongside contemporary art and design. The occasion for the evening’s celebration was “Lorna Simpson. Third Person,” an exhibition that Bottega Veneta is sponsoring at Punta della Dogana. The show—Simpson’s most significant presentation in Europe in more than a decade—is adapted from the Met’s 2025 exhibition on the multidisciplinary artist, “Source Notes.”

From one palazzo to another, my final stop of the night was the debut of a performance piece by Jordan Roth, presented by Performance Space New York. Last summer, the Tony Award-winning Broadway producer stepped into the spotlight at the Louvre in a piece inspired by the museum’s hallowed galleries. This time, his muse was Irene di Spilimbergo, a musician and 16th-century painter who assisted Titian and served as a muse to artists and poets following her death at just 21, but to whom no works can be attributed with absolute certainty. It’s believed that di Spilimbergo once lived at Palazzo dei Fiori (the Renaissance Venetian palazzo, now a Room Mate hotel), where Roth’s performance—inspired by the creative relationship between an artist and his or her sitter—took place.

Day 2: Fashionable Threads and Time-Traveling Through the Orient Express

The following morning, I was to tour the Orient Express Venezia, a newly opened hotel named for the luxury train from Paris to Istanbul. Over eight years, the hotel’s designer, Aline Asmar d’Amman, revived its historic palazzo’s layered architecture, from its 15th-century origins to its Neo-Gothic and Baroque transformation during the 1800s. It now stands as a 47-key luxury hotel, replete with lustrous Fortuny textiles, Murano-glass chandeliers, and furnishings in a delicate palette that reflects Venice’s colori persi, or “lost colors,” mirrored in the original ornate stuccowork.

I next stopped at the Museo Fortuny, where Austrian artist Erwin Wurm’s playful, sartorially-inspired sculptures are on view in Italy for the first time. Typically my Venetian adventures are not complete without a visit to the Fortuny factory and gardens on Giudecca, and had I had one more afternoon, I would have loved to see designer Chahan Minassian’s latest curation for the company’s palazzina.

Next up was a fabulous double feature of largely site-specific exhibitions by two of my favorite contemporary painters, Flora Yukhnovich (at Victoria Miro’s Venice outpost) and Amoako Boafo (at the Palazzo Grimani museum). From fashionable portraiture to wearable art, my last stop before dinner was at the Hotel Monaco & Grand Canal, where London gallerist Elisabetta Cipriani hosted a pop-up with jewelry created by artists like Sheila Hicks.

After an aperitivo in Caffè Florian’s grand 18th-century salons (another Venetian tradition of mine), I waited until sundown to venture to the Ponte dell’Accademia for “Shy Society,” by Dutch artists Lonneke Gordijn and Ralph Nauta of Studio Drift. The outdoor installation included the duo’s signature Shylights—mechanized, tutu-like, textile forms—dancing over the Grand Canal, a visual lullaby to end another art-filled day.

Day 3: Dries Van Noten, Marshmallow Chandeliers, and a Villa Sleepover

Occupying three floors of the late-15th-century Palazzo Pisani Moretta, the 200-plus works in “The Only True Protest Is Beauty,” Fondazione Dries Van Noten’s inaugural exhibition (curated by Van Noten with Geert Bruloot), offered an enchanting and surprising mix of fashion, jewelry, art, design, photography, glass, ceramics, and more.

Van Noten’s idea of beauty is wonderfully multifaceted—ranging from the ornate (Christian Lacroix’s opulent couture, or Lilla Tabasso’s hyper-realistic glass flowers that appear to be sprouting from the palazzo floor), to the dark, eccentric, and emotionally charged (Joyce J. Scott’s sculptural reflections on memories and violence, or A. Codognato’s memento mori jewelry). His idiosyncratic ode to adornment and craftsmanship was without a doubt the highlight of my trip (just make sure you book a time slot in advance!).

Next door was Palazzo Tiepolo Passi, which presented “Matthew Wong: Interiors,” made up of nearly 40 of the late artist’s rarely seen and never-before-exhibited paintings of domestic and psychological spaces. I was then off to Ca’ Pesaro to see work by Hernan Bas and Jenny Saville, followed by David Salle at Palazzo Cini.

I finished my afternoon in Dorsoduro, making stops at the Bahamian Pavilion and Ukraine’s Pinchuk Art Centre presentation at Palazzo Contarini Polignac (where Simone Post’s marshmallow and flying-saucer chandeliers delighted) before my finale at the Peggy Guggenheim Collection. In the temporary exhibition, I learned about the gallerist’s years in the UK and her first gallery, Guggenheim Jeune, active in London between 1938 and 1939; then I said “hello” to my all-time favorite earrings, featuring Yves Tanguy’s smallest Surrealist landscapes in asymmetrical designs, which the artist gave to Guggenheim at the time of his exhibition at her London gallery.

It was time to bid adieu to central Venice as I headed inland to Ca’ Riviera in Mira for the evening. Set within two 16th-century villas along the Riviera del Brenta, Ca’ Riviera is a new cultural site with year-round programming, including an artist residency. The project was founded by Leonardo Tiezzi and Riccardo Corò, who became friends while working together at Ferragamo. (Corò grew up at the site.)

That evening, Ca’ Riviera celebrated its inaugural exhibition, “The Shape of Self,” in collaboration with Milan-based gallery Cassina Projects, which brought together the work of Leonor Fini, Cecilia Granara, and Yves Scherer, alongside permanent works by Chiara Capellini and Sedef Gali. Both Capellini’s paintings, presented in an austere chapel, and Gali’s paintings on ethereal organza that swayed in the wind over the villa’s grounds created quiet moments of contemplation.

Day 4: Gabriele D’Annunzio’s Estate in Lake Garda

After three busy days, it was time to unwind—and to check another dream location off my Italian bucket list: Lake Garda, Italy’s largest lake. After a scenic train ride, I arrived in Brescia, about 45 minutes away from my final destination, Gardone Riviera. I was elated to stay at the 138-year-old Grand Hotel Fasano, originally built as a hunting lodge for the Austrian imperial family.

Beyond being gorgeous, the Grand Hotel Fasano sits conveniently near Vittoriale degli Italiani, which Gabriele D’Annunzio built in 1921 with architect Gian Carlo Maroni and lived in until his death in 1938. During his time there, D’Annunzio completely transformed the 20-acre hillside estate, which now includes his house (the Priory), museums (among them, one dedicated to clothing and ephemera that belonged to him, his wife Maria, and the villa’s guests), an outdoor theater, expansive gardens, and networks of roads and squares (not to mention the colossal Royal Ship Puglia, gifted to D’Annunzio in 1923).

The vast grounds stood in direct contrast to D’Annunzio’s home, the lair of an eccentric and sardonic, yet highly spiritual, collector. Among the 10,000 objects and 33,000 books are hidden symbolic messages; my favorite, a gift from the Marchesa Casati, was a bronze tortoise made from the shell of a real tortoise that died in the Vittoriale gardens from overeating. (D’Annunzio placed the sculpture at the head of his dining table to warn guests against gluttony.) I was also astonished to see an original version of Man Ray’s iconic 1922 blurred portrait of the Marchesa on D’Annunzio’s desk.

I returned to the Grand Hotel Fasano for dinner at Osteria Il Pescatore, where I enjoyed a bright crudo and chili and shellfish spaghetti, followed by tableside tiramisu.

Day 5: Art Gardens and Arrivedercis

I managed to squeeze one final art pilgrimage into my stay. Just a 15-minute walk from the hotel is the André Heller Botanical Garden, where sculptures by August Rodin, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Keith Haring, Roy Lichtenstein, and Niki de Saint Phalle, among others, are tucked away between thousands of rare plants and ponds. I was familiar with Heller’s passion for experiential art from the recent revival of Luna Luna, a theme park the Austrian artist conceived as a “carnival of the avant-garde” during the 1980s. In this garden, however, artful encounters were more quaint so as to complement the mosaic-encrusted meandering paths and lush lookouts. Next on my Heller bucket list is Anima, a garden he designed in Marrakech.

My trip concluded with dinner at Il Fagiano, the Grand Hotel Fasano’s Michelin-starred restaurant. I opted for a variety of vegetarian dishes, including celeriac “ravioli” dumplings with apple and mustard, a grilled salanova salad with pollen and honey, and a rhubarb-and-cheese dessert. In between courses were inventive sweet and savory bites and homemade breads and crackers, washed down with rosé. A satisfying end to a satisfying trip.