February 1989 is forever ingrained in my memory as the first time I visited the Swiss ski resort of Saint-Moritz. My family favored its arch-rival Gstaad, which was less fashionable at the time, but my then boyfriend was gunning to socialize with the titans of finance who flocked there. It felt like walking onto the set of a Pink Panther movie: one night, covered in fur blankets, we whizzed through the snow on a horse-drawn sleigh on our way to dinner, the frozen lake beneath us opalescent in the moonlight.
My relationship with the banker was short-lived, but the one I have with Saint-Moritz still endures. Today, it remains exactly as it was then—immodestly stylish, ridiculously fun, and outrageously elitist. It is particularly beloved by Brits, who were the first tourists to travel there, in the 19th century, as well as German and Italian aristocrats, some of whom scoot up from Milan every weekend.
They come for sports, such as tobogganing in natural-ice skeletons at the death-defying racing track Cresta Run. But don’t be fooled—it’s also because of the Fitzgeraldian levels of après-ski fun. Everyone flocks to the Corviglia Ski Club, where Gianni Agnelli, the Aga Khan, Aristotle Onassis, and the Duke of Marlborough have all been members. It holds an annual Glamour Girl competition, where a beautiful, rich, and sporty-ish ingénue is tasked with leading members down the slopes at night, flaming torch in hand.
There are endless polo tournaments, horse and car races on the lake, and the skiing, which is serious. But the real events happen after dark, when the dinner parties begin, the tables are set at Badrutt’s Palace hotel, and plans are made to go by Dracula, the club founded by German automobile tycoon (and former Mr. Brigitte Bardot) Gunter Sachs.
Harry Dalmeny, the chairman of Sotheby’s, is a Cresta Run demon and has been visiting Saint-Moritz for years. He met his wife, the art adviser Harriet Clapham, on the dance floor at Dracula in 2019 when she accidentally dropped her glass of champagne. Charmer that he is, he ran to get her a new one. They married last year.
Now she is taking their relationship with Saint-Moritz a step further by teaming up with Irma Camperio Ciani Roder, her friend and collaborator, on a pop-up at Sotheby’s in London dedicated to the resort’s local talent. It will be accompanied by an exhibition of photographic works by Rolf Sachs, the artist and furniture designer who is the son of Gunter Sachs.
They come for sports, such as tobogganing in natural-ice skeletons at the death-defying racing track Cresta Run. But don’t be fooled—it’s also because of the Fitzgeraldian levels of après-ski fun.
Exhibitors include dirndl designer Annina Pfuel; Henriette Lefort, of the ski-wear brand Lefort Sport; jewelers Alina Abegg and Venyx by Eugenie Niarchos; handbag purveyor Olympia Le-Tan; and fashion designer Olivia Schuler-Voith, whose brand, Lokomotive, Clapham describes as Bonpoint for adults.
The Alps aren’t always associated with art and design, but they’ve been part of Saint-Moritz’s fabric for some time. Architect and longtime resident Norman Foster is working on a social-impact project in the valley, while international galleries such as Hauser & Wirth, Robilant+Voena, Vito Schnabel, Karsten Greve, and Andrea Caratsch have all opened outposts there. The Engadin Art Talks have been running now for 14 years, and the NOMAD art fair is in its 12th season.
But it’s not just recent history. Gerhard Richter created art inspired by the resort in the 90s; in the 80s, gallerist Bruno Bischofberger held an exhibition of works by Jean-Michel Basquiat and Andy Warhol. When he was in Saint-Moritz for the opening, Basquiat even went down the Cresta—in fact, it was rumored that he cut off his dreadlocks because he couldn’t pull the helmet over them.
There’s a lot to love about Saint-Moritz, but Dalmeny favors its simplest pleasures. “The bacon sandwich at the Kulm Hotel’s Sunny Bar,” she says. “It’s the best in the world.”
Vassi Chamberlain is a London-based Writer at Large at AIR MAIL
