The following are extracts from letters sent by Michael Canney (and some by Madeleine) from their home at Palazzone, Casole d’Elsa, Siena (the terrace is pictured, below), during seven years in Italy, from 1984 to 1991, reproduced here to give a flavour of artistic work and life in general at that time.

As these were not written with the intention of publication, the letters have been heavily edited and names have been omitted in some cases.

1984

‘Here, as far as I can see, we’ve arrived in a village where they can only be speaking Etruscan’

10/06

Arrived to pretty un-Italian weather, but it has improved now. On about our second day, lecturer from Fine Art Department at Exeter College of Art turns up – here with 25 students on a field course! Would we like to come to dinner with them? Very good meal of pasta, fried squid, ice-cream, Chianti, etc., but it rather dented the idea that we were pioneers in the village. However, shut away in our palazzo, we can avoid BA Fine Art students, tax exiles and the 20th century, and enjoy the Tuscan landscapes, sheep bells and swallows, not to mention the obligatory bottles of Vernaccia di San Gimignano.

26/10

We went to Assisi. Had an excellent meal there, of pigeon (singularly inappropriate in the home of St Francis, what with his bird-preaching, sister pig and brother dog, etc!!). However, we were not struck dead, and had a very pleasant day there (dodging the herds of nuns) and trying to see the Giottos. Notices everywhere in the church saying “Silenzio!” and monks shouting their heads off, describing the frescoes to guided tours of the faithful. An extremely dubious relic in the crypt – the robe of St F. artistically patched and looking rather like a fashionable piece of haute couture in grey, black and brown by Kendo. A pretty itchy garment anyway. The Giottos are better seen in the books.

19/11

Here, as far as I can see, we’ve arrived in a village where they can only be speaking Etruscan – it doesn’t seem to be in the BBC’s “Buongiornio – Italia” course for beginners. I also tend to get stuck with technical conversations about sparking plugs, sand-paper, and flat-white undercoat. Means a lot of work with dictionary. Madeleine, on the other hand is on the best of terms with all of the old ladies, including the ex-village mid-wife.

We’ve been here six months exactly, which hardly seems possible, but every day contains some incident (such as the blessing of the farm machinery by the Bishop of Volterra today – over seventy tractors processing through the narrow streets, garlanded with Italian flags), so it is not surprising that time has flown…

Every garage, spare room, cubby-hole, and disused shop here is filled with happy wine-bibbers, siphoning Chianti from an assortment of barrels, into demijohns and an array of bottles. This has meant that finding a studio has been quite a problem. Madeleine, however, approached some surprised Sunday afternoon walkers, and the upshot of this encounter was that I now have a studio for at least six months, in an unconverted farmhouse – draughty but spacious. The owners live in Florence and are farming, running a vineyard, and growing olives at a distance. Very nice people. The young wife has a collection of paintings, and the husband says, “My passion is ze wine – I lose three time what I make – but is ze passion – you understand?” I think we shall get on alright when it comes to sampling vintages.

Have done about eight reliefs, some coloured, and have been trying to come to terms with the eminently paintable environment here. A few dotty (pointillist) pictures may result, but am in an experimental period at present. I have to bear in mind the profoundly incomprehensible words of Paul Feiler – “One mustn’t change trains on the way to Manchester because one has seen butterflies on Snowdon” – or perhaps I got that wrong???

We shall be coming to London for the St. Ives School show at the Tate in February…I am waiting for David Brown to send me a date, and a promise of an invitation. We go on to Cornwall afterwards for two weeks or so, and then back here. (My film of the Early Newlyn School, with Nanette Newman in it, has been nicely previewed in the TV Times, Plymouth edition only, I suspect. There was talk of it going on Channel Four.)

Have been doing some homework as far as galleries are concerned, but not a lot of luck yet. I knew that Florence and Siena were not too promising as exhibiting centres. However, have discovered an old international art friend who was with me in student days at Arbroath, who is having a show in Venice now, so have written to him, as he knows all the Italian galleries.

20/11

I now have [the] studio lined up for a six-month period. Rent more than I bargained for, seeing that it is merely an empty and unconverted room, but it will be interesting as an experiment…

Weather has been terrible, but one week ago it was 90 degrees on the roof. Today fine and blue like an Italian old master painting, but some threatening clouds on the horizon…went to Castello di Volpaia, in heart of Chianti Classico country, a vineyard/castle on top of hill with small and beautifully converted chapel containing ravishing collection of the last paintings of Afro (friend of Lanyons in Rome) [Basaldella], an Italian painter of rare quality, who died in 1976. It’s a group of ancient buildings on top of a remote hill, with a 14th-century chapel, immaculately restored, and equipped as a gallery. they’ve also had a shows of young Italian painters – (T– F‘s realists, no doubt!) who have shown at the Hayward, the Biennale, etc. I gather that a wealthy Torinese industrialist with a flair for picking the right artists puts on these shows in the midst of nowhere, and produces an excellent catalogue as well. The Italians seem to have this talent for arranging something perfect in a perfect environment. They have, of course, a lot of ideal buildings in which to present art and design…

Also went to Livorno (Leghorn) but not recommended. Village above on hill has monastery with thousands of votive paintings (thanks to the Virgin for saving lives in accidents – falls from horse carriages, stairs, windows, bike accidents, etc. All very entertaining – and brought up to date with a room festooned with crash helmets, bent steering wheels and photos of horrific accidents.

30/12

Still have no date from David Brown for the Tate “St. Ives School” show, but am assuming it is about February 12th since I heard a rumour to that effect. Can’t settle our journey [from Italy] until we know.

Have done a lot of work [in the studio] already, as I am undisturbed – modular paintings like patterns, red, yellow, blue, black and white – very De Stijl Mondrian colours. Must be the influence of the Italian temperament rather than the Tuscan scene – quite jolly. Young pushy Dutch constructivist artist, Paul Brandts, has arrived in Colle Val d’Elsa and wants to have show in Florence with me, says he will do all the business side. Is also a talented modern furniture designer with work reproduced in all European colour magazines. “I am very famous for my table,” he says modestly. Has gone back to Holland to have show of work and make enough money to stay around here for two years. “I sell everything immediately you know. Your work is good, yes.” We shall see.

1985 >