Imagine a place where time stands still, yet creativity flows endlessly. Welcome to Carona, a medieval village that became the creative sanctuary of the legendary artist Meret Oppenheim. But here’s where it gets fascinating: this isn’t just any village—it’s a living, breathing testament to family legacy, artistic genius, and the enduring power of community. My connection to Carona spans over a century, rooted in my great-grandfather Theo Wenger, a pastor-turned-knife manufacturer whose factory is now part of Victorinox. In 1917, he purchased Casa Costanza in Carona’s main piazza, a home that later sheltered my grandparents from Nazi Germany and eventually became my father’s haven. Yet, it was my aunt, Meret Oppenheim, who truly transformed it into her Gesamtkunstwerk—a total work of art that mirrored her visionary spirit.
Growing up in Basel, my summers in Carona were magical. My brothers and I would roam freely, exploring the forest and the walled garden just outside the village. I vividly recall the local women in their black dresses and wooden clogs, zoccoli, carrying baskets of hay and gathering in the alleys to chat and knit. It was a world frozen in time, yet brimming with life.
And this is the part most people miss: Carona wasn’t just a retreat; it was a hub of artistic rebellion. In the 1960s, my father and Meret bought Casa Aprile, which my elder brother Christoph turned into a commune for bohemian artists, including David Weiss, who later gained international fame alongside Peter Fischli. Meret, who moved in the same circles as Picasso, Man Ray, and Duchamp, became their mentor, infusing the village with her avant-garde energy.
I’ve called Carona home for 30 years, following in my grandfather’s footsteps by teaching psychology through the Hoffman Process. What draws me to this place is its humanity. It’s a village where everyone greets each other, yet it’s surprisingly well-connected. Lugano is a 20-minute bus ride away, Zürich is two hours by train, and Milan is just an hour and 15 minutes by car. My brother Michael and I now share Casa Aprile—I occupy the lower floors, he the top—rekindling its communal spirit.
Meret’s passing in 1985 left a void, but her legacy endures. She’s buried in the quaint cemetery of Santa Marta Church, and her bronze fountain, intertwined with snakes, graces the piazza. Since her death, I’ve transcribed and published thousands of her documents and letters, curated her estate, and supported major exhibitions, including one at MoMA. But here’s the controversial part: Should Casa Costanza become a museum to honor her? I believe it should, but funding remains a hurdle. The more people know about Meret, the closer we get to preserving her legacy.
Carona isn’t just about art; it’s a haven for nature lovers. The forest houses the baroque gem, Madonna d’Ongero Church, with breathtaking views of Lake Lugano and surrounding vineyards. Nearby, the village of Montagnola, once home to Hermann Hesse, inspired his novel Klingsor’s Last Summer. For hikers, the Roccolo bird-hunting tower and the gondola ride to Monte Tamaro offer stunning trails. And don’t miss Parco San Grato, a botanical garden that explodes with rhododendrons and azaleas in spring.
Foodies will relish Carona’s culinary delights. Grotto del Pan Perdü serves traditional dishes like ossobuco and polenta, but my go-to is Bistrot del Tennis. Run by Luciano Vanacore, a Sorrento native, it’s unpretentious yet perfect for sunset wines and ever-changing menus of pasta, fish, and antipasti. For visitors, Villa Carona Hotel offers charm, a gorgeous garden, and a small pool.
Art enthusiasts will love Galleria La Loggia, which showcases local talent, and CaronaImmagina, a biennial outdoor photography festival. In Lugano, MASI museum is a must, with its 2017 Meret Oppenheim exhibit and current focus on David Weiss. Its concert hall hosts everything from symphonies to opera.
For dining, Bottegone del Vino in Lugano’s city center is my favorite, with a concise but impeccable menu. Craving something different? Ghost Bagel, run by an American expat, serves authentic New York bagels that even my late Canadian husband, Douglas, would have loved. And for shopping, Boutique Scrupoli near Lugano’s cathedral offers timeless fashion pieces.
Here’s the question I leave you with: In a world that often prioritizes the new over the timeless, how do we ensure places like Carona—and legacies like Meret’s—aren’t forgotten? Share your thoughts below. Let’s keep the conversation alive.
