Two different menus were suggested. Both revolved around local produce, and some seafood, from the area—choosing was difficult, but I ultimately opted for the one that more heavily focused on local produce, given that my guests and I were to be sitting a stone’s throw from the island’s lush gardens (more on the meal in a moment). Once I made my selections, everything else was taken care of by the capable, accommodating event planners.
I arrived at the Isola delle Rose a day before the event and found myself immediately soothed by the hush of the island, its olive tree grove dotted with modernist sculptures, its dreamy vistas looking back toward Venice. The friendly, but not obsequious, service of the staff put me right at ease; I felt in very good hands, but not overly fussed over. My room, in a secluded outbuilding a couple of minutes’ walk (or a shorter golf cart ride) away from the main hotel, was a stylish, spacious sanctuary done up in soft earth tones and warm lighting. I had a private terrace with various types of comfortable seating, all looking out at those quintessentially Mediterranean olive trees.
Just before sunset, I greeted my dinner companions—journalists and critics from Variety, IndieWire, the Associated Press, and New York Magazine, as well as several publicists and awards strategists with whom we closely work—who arrived by water taxis all arranged by the hotel—on a sprawling lawn overlooking the lagoon. Two guitarists added some musical ambience while guests were served signature cocktails (with a non-alcoholic option) and an impressive array of hors d’oeuvres. We chatted and caught up, comparing notes about films we’d seen, but mostly commenting on the understated but finely detailed elegance of the occasion.
