When you think of a deluxe, five-star hotel you probably conjure breathtaking scenery, superb cuisine, elegant accommodations, first-rate service and romantic ambience all combined in a singular atmosphere of luxury. But Hotel San Pietro, on the outskirts of Positano, Italy, takes the concept one step further, into a whole new dimension.
How? Simply put, this magnificent family run hotel is…well…it’s invisible!
Whetheryou approach San Pietro from the road or the sea, you have to look for the hotel to find it, really look. But when you find it, that’s just the beginning.
About two kilometers to the east of Positano, the tiny Chapel of San Pietro perches at the edge of what is little more than a wide spot in the road that bends along the serpentine rock face of the coast. Use the chapel as a landmark. Otherwise you’ll miss the hotel.
Walk to the left of the church and go behind it. Then take the steps through a stunning array of fragrances emanating from the bougainvillea, hibiscus and grape arbors that line the stairway to an elevator. Or, better yet, stroll leisurely among the terraces of flowers that lead to the lobby, known as the Hall.
In moments you are surrounded by Italian marble, cool tile floors, cantilevered terraces, sloping gardens and sweeping views of the Bay of Positano that point a perpetual face to the sun. You have entered a world where luxury and simplicity blend harmoniously to create an atmosphere of casual charm and elegant perfection.
John Steinbeck visited Positano in 1953, describing it as “a dream place that isn't quite real when you are there and becomes beckoningly real after you have gone.” Soon after, the community became a haven for writers and artists. The hidden treasure had been discovered. It was no longer a secret. And Positano would never be the same.
In 1962 Carlo Cinque decided to build a private villa and bought some land at the peak of a rocky cliff face where only the tiny, ancient Chapel of San Pietro existed. At the time, Positano was just a sleepy fishing village that had gradually started to attract the attention of tourists in the previous decade.
Shortly after Carlo purchased the land, he went to work on his dream, literally carving his imaginative ideas into the rock. Overcoming overwhelming obstacles created by the sheer logistical difficulties of elevation and excavation, Cinque eventually completed a small apartment and garden.
Little by little, the idea of transforming his craggy precipice into the most perfect hotel on the crest of a cliff was born. With determination and imagination he burrowed his masterpiece into the rock without disturbing the natural beauty of the surroundings.
After eight years of incredibly difficult work, 33 rooms facing the bay were opened along with a large lobby and a spectacular terrace. Today, the hotel is a myriad of 62 rooms cleverly tucked into the cliffs in a series of nearly a dozen ledges. Each room is completely private with its own balcony and stunning view.
Carlo wanted his “small Eden” to have minimal separation from the exquisite plants and flowers outside, so those same exotic garden plants and fragrant flowers appear inside as well, spilling in abundance from planters. Vines trail along the interior ceiling, while bougainvillea cascades from balconies and other varieties of vegetation span shaded terraces.
Hotel San Pietro is an architectural wonder. Rooms are seductively appointed with antiques, hand-painted furniture, ceramic tiles and terra-cotta floors. Some rooms have no curtains in either the bedroom or the bathroom. The concept allows guests to see out, while no one else can see in; creating an ambience of being totally alone within nature.
“Special” rooms all have features that set them apart, be it the largest windows, the most sumptuous decor, or the most expansive bathroom. Experience a bed so large that it had to be constructed inside the room. Or enjoy the luxury of a sunken marble bathtub next to a giant picture window. The tub is big enough to accommodate you and three of your most intimate friends. There’s even a bedroom featuring a full-sized marble sculpture of a male figure with water streaming from a strategic and rather indiscreet location.
Perhaps the most amazing construction project, among many, was the delicate blasting that took place to install the elevator that travels from the main lobby to the private beach below. From the Hall, the lift incredibly descends 290-feet through solid rock before opening into a huge cave on the beach. From the cave, a 25-yard stroll leads to a walkway that goes to a sunbathing platform and bar on the rocks, which are surrounded by flower-filled terraces. There is also a nearby tennis court and rose garden.
The story of the creation of the Hotel San Pietro is the tale of one man's realization of a dream -- a family saga with elements of adventure, fantasy and flair plus inexhaustible commitment and dedication. Carlo Cinque was not an architect or a designer or a technical engineer. He was a man with an idea and desire to demonstrate how tenacity and determination could unite a sense of beauty and intelligence into a living paradise. That is the genius of Carlo Cinque and Hotel San Pietro.
2011年11月28日星期一
2011年6月20日星期一
Changing fortunes of a mercurial asset manager
Divine messenger and god of commerce and trade, closest planet to the sun and quicksilver metal. The investment firm Mercury, at one time one of the biggest names in European asset management, shared characteristics of sublimity, overheating and capriciousness with its namesakes. In 2001 it was almost brought to its knees by a negligence lawsuit, mass defections of star managers and an exodus of clients.
Just three years after Merrill Lynch bought Mercury Asset Management for £3.1bn, or £17 a share in 1997, the investment business that grew out of SG Warburg in the 1960s and floated on the London stock market in 1987 for 90p a share, was heading for ruin.
Poor performance struck, Mercury fought and then settled a lawsuit by its client Unilever, 40% of the 200 Mercury managers who had been made millionaires in the Merrill takeover had left, and half its business walked out of the door. When co-heads Carol Galley and Stephen Zimmerman stepped down, few thought it would recover.
But after another three years it had done just that, and in 2006, BlackRock issued shares worth £9.3bn to acquire Mercury and the rest of the Merrill Lynch Investment Managers business – doubling its assets under management in the process.
Former Mercury chief operating officer in Europe, Rob Fairbairn, now head of global clients at BlackRock, said Mercury’s expertise in operations and recruitment proved the doubters wrong. “We survived an ordeal which would have wrecked other firms. BlackRock runs a different business now – broader and risk-aware – but there are similarities with Mercury,” he said.
Rigorous hiring process
Peter Stormonth Darling chaired Mercury between 1979 and 1992 and wrote City Cinderella: The Life And Times of Mercury Asset Management. He said: “The key to Mercury was its people. And the key to that was a disciplined recruitment process, involving multiple interviews.”
There was also a common trait in the type of people hired, according to former UK equity manager Charlie Curtis: “We knew we had an edge. We were edgy people as well.”
Fierce loyalties developed. Curtis quit Mercury along with co-managers Nicola Horlick and James Goulding, when Leonard Licht, the head of the specialist equities team and MAM vice-chairman, joined Jupiter. The exodus “opened up something of a gap”, said Stormonth Darling.
But Mercury filled it thanks to its skill in finding and developing talent from a range of universities and disciplines. Casting the net wide also gave Mercury an edge over rival managers who preferred male economics graduates from Oxford or Cambridge.
As well as women, Mercury was alive to hiring executives with a military background, tapping into their organisational skill and readiness to look out for others. Stormonth Darling himself fought as an infantry officer in the Korean War.
It was aggressively meritocratic. Its executives carefully ranked potential recruits in interviews, rating conviction highly.
Once appointed, graduates were expected to spend two years in the back office. Galley started her career in the library. Mercury did not like rookies to take short cuts.
Leadership
Managers say Zimmerman and Galley were intolerant of stupidity but backed conviction to the hilt.
“They made us jump,” said one former colleague, who added that they often backed down when it looked like they would lose an argument. Zimmerman and Galley made all the key decisions on pay but were generous to their favoured managers.
They pushed for Mercury to be floated 25 years ago, when they realised everyone (themselves included) deserved equity incentives. According to one former colleague: “There was a kind of restrained greed at the top of the business, which worked its way down.”
Individual performances were mapped internally and closely analysed. Managers competed against each other, seeking to access companies and brokers at the highest possible level and the fastest speed.
Business and investment strategies were dominated in the early years by Andrew Smithers, whose level of self-belief was only equalled by his faith in Mercury.
Similar levels of conviction trickled through the firm by the 1980s, often to the benefit of performance.
The firm liked big bets.
Just three years after Merrill Lynch bought Mercury Asset Management for £3.1bn, or £17 a share in 1997, the investment business that grew out of SG Warburg in the 1960s and floated on the London stock market in 1987 for 90p a share, was heading for ruin.
Poor performance struck, Mercury fought and then settled a lawsuit by its client Unilever, 40% of the 200 Mercury managers who had been made millionaires in the Merrill takeover had left, and half its business walked out of the door. When co-heads Carol Galley and Stephen Zimmerman stepped down, few thought it would recover.
But after another three years it had done just that, and in 2006, BlackRock issued shares worth £9.3bn to acquire Mercury and the rest of the Merrill Lynch Investment Managers business – doubling its assets under management in the process.
Former Mercury chief operating officer in Europe, Rob Fairbairn, now head of global clients at BlackRock, said Mercury’s expertise in operations and recruitment proved the doubters wrong. “We survived an ordeal which would have wrecked other firms. BlackRock runs a different business now – broader and risk-aware – but there are similarities with Mercury,” he said.
Rigorous hiring process
Peter Stormonth Darling chaired Mercury between 1979 and 1992 and wrote City Cinderella: The Life And Times of Mercury Asset Management. He said: “The key to Mercury was its people. And the key to that was a disciplined recruitment process, involving multiple interviews.”
There was also a common trait in the type of people hired, according to former UK equity manager Charlie Curtis: “We knew we had an edge. We were edgy people as well.”
Fierce loyalties developed. Curtis quit Mercury along with co-managers Nicola Horlick and James Goulding, when Leonard Licht, the head of the specialist equities team and MAM vice-chairman, joined Jupiter. The exodus “opened up something of a gap”, said Stormonth Darling.
But Mercury filled it thanks to its skill in finding and developing talent from a range of universities and disciplines. Casting the net wide also gave Mercury an edge over rival managers who preferred male economics graduates from Oxford or Cambridge.
As well as women, Mercury was alive to hiring executives with a military background, tapping into their organisational skill and readiness to look out for others. Stormonth Darling himself fought as an infantry officer in the Korean War.
It was aggressively meritocratic. Its executives carefully ranked potential recruits in interviews, rating conviction highly.
Once appointed, graduates were expected to spend two years in the back office. Galley started her career in the library. Mercury did not like rookies to take short cuts.
Leadership
Managers say Zimmerman and Galley were intolerant of stupidity but backed conviction to the hilt.
“They made us jump,” said one former colleague, who added that they often backed down when it looked like they would lose an argument. Zimmerman and Galley made all the key decisions on pay but were generous to their favoured managers.
They pushed for Mercury to be floated 25 years ago, when they realised everyone (themselves included) deserved equity incentives. According to one former colleague: “There was a kind of restrained greed at the top of the business, which worked its way down.”
Individual performances were mapped internally and closely analysed. Managers competed against each other, seeking to access companies and brokers at the highest possible level and the fastest speed.
Business and investment strategies were dominated in the early years by Andrew Smithers, whose level of self-belief was only equalled by his faith in Mercury.
Similar levels of conviction trickled through the firm by the 1980s, often to the benefit of performance.
The firm liked big bets.
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