I have visited Lake Como, where snowy mountains look down on lakeside beaches lapped by Italy’s deepest body of glacial meltwater, a dozen times over. But I’ve never found the same lake twice.
In cut-glass sunlight, it ramps up the glamour; every church spire, crenellated bastion, and pontoon is thrown into sharp relief. On cloudy days, it hides its light behind a veil of mist. Against such a fantastical backdrop, many have dreamed their castles in the air into existence. Julius Caesar created the first city of Como out of swampy flatlands, and then Pliny the Younger built two villas—one above the other—and called them Comedy and Tragedy.
Centuries later came the gilded, frescoed, porticoed palaces of the Baroque, followed by the grand designs of the Liberty period. In the 18th and 19th centuries, Como’s newly rich silk merchants vied to outshine their neighbors by building even bigger lakeside promontories and lairs.
And then there’s the Villa Ponti Bellavista, a newer addition to the landscape. Built in the 1960s and perched 1,500 feet above the shore, the structure features terraces and a façade that resemble a jutting prow leaning into the aquamarine void, straining to sail off the cliff.
After five years of renovation and upgrades, it is now available as a vacation rental. Its provenance is mysterious and alluring: according to Renata Fossati, whose parents were friends of architect and industrial designer Gio Ponti and built the house when she was 16, its official architect is unknown. But the original design was signed by two employees of the magazine Domus, which Ponti founded and ran until his death, in 1979.
Located four miles outside of Bellagio, Villa Ponti Bellavista is close to the town and its sun-drenched loveliness but far enough from the tourist hordes to feel secluded. Situated amid forests of cypress, cedar, and chestnut and situated at the fork of the wishbone lake, it is a bit of a beast to locate. Somehow, I got a flat tire, but the villa’s current owner and proprietor, Barbara Biggs, saved the day with her mechanic in tow.
Wearing a silk shift whose abstract design and color channeled the Mad Men vibe of the villa, Biggs was not fazed by a reporter’s almost driving off the cliff. A fearless campaigner for children’s rights, she is also the author of five books, some of which unflinchingly document her early life as an under-age sex slave (then a teenage sex worker) before becoming a journalist. After a lifetime of judicious real-estate investing, she was able to buy the villa from Fossati in 2017, supported by a small collective of friends, and, she says,”mortgaging myself to the hilt in the process.” It had been sitting empty for nearly 15 years.
At the time, its automated shutters were jammed shut. She could view its rooms only by the light of her mobile phone and imagined the renovations would be mostly cosmetic. (Not the case. One of the more daunting tasks involved the mold covering an external wall.) Biggs’s workers covered the terraces with cocciopesto, the durable lime-and-terracotta building material that has been used since Roman times.
At least the blue bathroom tiles, echoing Ponti designs, were intact, and the house had good bones. When Biggs stepped onto the terraces, she saw the small boats skimming the lake’s Lecco arm like tiny waterbugs. Taking in the full grandeur of the 180-degree views over the silvery flanks of Mount Grigna, she knew she would sign on the dotted line.
The villa carries many of the hallmarks of the father of the Italian modernist movement. Ponti designed the interiors of ocean liners, which he considered symbols of modernity. In the villa, nautical references abound. Chimneys are designed like funnels, lanterns are fashioned in the nautical style, and the hallway’s wooden paneling is curved like an observation deck, with an arc of 11 windows gazing out above the waterline. A spiral staircase, frequently seen on cruise ships, draws together the living areas, six bedrooms, and two kitchens.
There are grander, more historic, and more expensive villas on Lake Como, but none feel quite like this immersive time capsule. The villa is bathed in Ponti’s trademark transparency and lightness, with a bit of fun conjured by the sunken firepit. From the PVC pool furniture to the retro hot tub, there are no false design notes. The joyful orange-and-pink sofas are straight out of a Slim Aarons fashion shoot, and even the hydrangeas come in acid colors. In the voluptuous living room, the 14-seat lacquered table sits harmoniously among vintage finds from Di Mano in Mano, an indoor flea market known for its midcentury treasures.
It’s an exhilarating place to be, a villa made for celebrating life. Ponti, an advocate of “enchantment—a useless thing, but as indispensable as bread,” as he once said, surely would have approved.
Rental rates at Villa Ponti Bellavista begin at $20,000 per week
Catherine Fairweather is a West Country of England–based writer