Bask in the Glow of Caroline Bachmann’s 20 Seascapes Paintings for Le Sirenuse 

Le Sirenuse, perfectly perched above the jewel-toned waters of Positano, redefines the definition of a hotel. Since its founding in 1951, it has shaped what it means to sip, sleep, and stay a while, immersing its guests in inspiration and exploration through a collection of artworks, unforgettable food, and a certain je ne sais quoi only the founding Sersale family can decode. 

Here, cultural memory, myth, and artistic poetry unfold across 58 guest rooms, dining spaces, lively lounges, relaxing poolside terraces, and more, embedded with a certain Mediterranean elegance that can’t be replicated. It’s crafted and curated, shaped by layers and layers of commissioned artworks, artifacts, and hand-selected decor. Today, its undeniable charm is centered around exceptional hospitality and artistic exchange—a balance nurtured through the hotel’s site-specific art program, Artists at Le Sirenuse, which began in 2015. Since, it has invited contemporary artists to create deeply personal, site-specific works that live within the property, including pieces by Martin Creed, Rita Ackermann, Alexa Israel, and Nicolas Party, among others. 

For the program’s 12th installment, its latest commission comes from the Swiss artist Caroline Bachmann, who has crafted a cycle of twenty circular seascapes that trace the passage of a single day—from midnight to midnight—through the shifting view of the Li Galli islands. Bachmann, based on the tranquil shores of Lake Geneva, is known for her contemplative landscapes that distill time, memory, and emotion into painterly form. Her practice is rooted in observation, especially of transitional light—sunrise, sunset, dusk, and dawn.

Sketching directly from nature and then retreating to the studio, she constructs works that resonate with quiet intensity. It was this sensibility that first captivated Antonio Sersale, co-owner of Le Sirenuse, when he encountered her work at Galerie Gregor Staiger in Zürich. Seeing a profound echo between Bachmann’s views of Lake Geneva and his own lifelong vista—the Mediterranean horizon dotted by the mythic Li Galli islands—he extended an invitation to Positano.

Arriving in October 2023, Bachmann immersed herself in the view from Room 65, a vantage point that captures Positano’s vertical cascade and the vast Tyrrhenian beyond. Over the course of a week, she sketched at all hours, documenting the qualities of light and sea. But it wasn’t until she entered the hotel’s Don’t Worry Music Bar—a vaulted, intimate space once part of the Sersale family’s original home—that she discovered the perfect home for her vision. There, twenty arched niches encircling the room invited a cycle of paintings that could function like an analog clock, turning in silent rhythm with the sea.

Over nine months, back in her studio, Bachmann completed Le Sirenuse I–XX, 2025, a series of twenty tondos, each 30 centimeters in diameter, framed in a warm amber tone evoking traditional Italian earth pigments. Installed in April 2025 in Don’t Worry Music Bar, the works now form a visual symphony that begins at midnight on the north wall and moves clockwise through the day’s moods, ending at midnight once more. These are not literal depictions, but atmospheric interpretations—a choreography of clouds, wind, reflections, and inner states. “Painting an island is like painting a self-portrait,” Bachmann said.

Whitewall spoke with Bachmann over the phone about being inspired by one of the world’s most enchanting settings for a series of paintings that live on in Le Sirenuse and what she’s presenting next. 

Caroline Bachmann’s Creative Process

WHITEWALL: Caroline, when you first visited the property in April 2023, you were to suggest a location in the hotel for your artworks. You mentioned you stumbled across the arches in Don’t Worry Bar Music Bar and knew instantly that was the place for your art. What was special about this place?

CAROLINE BACHMANN: The architecture. It’s an old Italian volta, and how they built the ceiling at that time to sustain it was to build these four big arches, and then 20 arches under the big arch. This was a calling for a series of paintings. It’s very wonderful because you have no interruption. Normally, you have doors and windows, and when you hang paintings in the room, you can never really do a circle. But because it’s up and over everything, I could really do a work that is completely cyclic that goes around like a clock. 

“This was a calling for a series of paintings.”

—Caroline Bachmann

WW: The space is also very special because you can see the Li Galli Islands from the space itself, and in the 20 works, we see the Li Galli Islands, as well.

CB: Exactly. Li Galli—Tre Galli, they call them—in ancient times, they would call this island “Le Sirenuse.” The hotel took the name of this old island, and of course it’s connect with Homer’s Odyssey, where Ulysses hears the voices of the sirens.

WW: You stayed in room number 65, which features incredible views of the sea. What was it like staying there and creating these works?

CB: I was nearly all the time on the balcony, observing the weather, reading, thinking, or dreaming. When something would happen with the light or the clouds, I would do a drawing. I did many many drawings, and when I got back home, I chose 20 to do the series. 

Creating 20 Seascape Paintings

WW: After you made your choice, you mentioned it took you nine months to create the paintings. What was your process like, creating this series? 

CB: The drawings are very important because in them I fix all the emotional and organizational elements. The drawings always lead my paintings. When I choose a drawing, I transfer or copy, my drawing on the canvas. For this project, it was not canvas, it’s painted on wood, but it’s the same. I prepare the painting surface with the color, which is a Terra di Siena. And on this Terra di Siena with the same color, I draw the drawing. But I add, and I try to build there, the value situation—tones of grays, for instance, if it’s light or very dark, and so on, with only one color. When it’s done and dry, because I always have to wait while it’s drying, I begin to put the colors on it and refine what is in the drawing—the landscape, the light, and everything. 

WW: It’s interesting to hear you speak about dark tones and dark colors because for those who know Positano, they think of bright colors. But when you visit the region in off-season, such as in April or October, there can be sun showers and clouds. You get to see different colors in the sky than if you were to go just in the summertime. What was it like visiting in April? How did that impact what you were painting?

CB: When I had to make an appointment to go back to Le Sirenuse to draw, I asked if I could come in December because I really like the winter light. I have a very deep feeling with this light, which is not so direct, like in the summer. But the hotel closes at the end of October, so we decided that I would come the last week of the open season. When I first came in April, I had this very direct idea of working with the islands because it has something metaphorical about it as a person. It’s like a projection of somebody when you see an island; you can see yourself, in a way. At the same time, it holds something very personal—with the surrounding of the hotel and the history. I like very much this connection of where you are and the connection of the history and the geographical connection around you.

Our bodies, which is some kind of a sense in itself, understand things we don’t really realize or recognize with rationality and words, but it’s something we use. We develop a comprehension, which beyond words. For me, painting is like that—over words. I let myself be influenced by the situation of my body in a space. I always had a very clear connection with the place—and I knew it was the right place. When I went in April, I very rapidly had this feeling. I know a little bit about the Mediterranean light, because I had been living in Rome for many years, so I knew it would be great. I trusted the light completely. For me, the most important thing at the beginning was the the point of view. 

“I trusted the light completely.”

—Caroline Bachmann

A Relationship with Light

WW: Is this relationship you have with light precious to you in your day-to-day work? In your studio? 

CB: The studio is different because it’s like a cave. I have a window, but I have a wall in front of the window, so I see nothing. It’s like an inner space, the studio. It’s allowed me to go inside and to refine memories and sensations I use to paint. I don’t need my eyes. I need my eyes to control the pencil and the painting, but not to really do something. In the beginning, it’s much more physical than about the eyes. 

WW: Can you tell us more about your studio? You have two, correct?

CB: Yes. I have one in Berlin and one in Cully. They are both on the ground floor and they have bad light, in a way. One’s behind a courtyard, and the other one is in a small place in the village. I need artificial lights, so I work with neons. It’s not enough light in the studio to work without them. Both studios are very basic; I just have the necessities to paint, like a table, and that’s all. 

WW: Working in a simple studio, it must feel interesting to see your paintings hanging in a light-filled gallery, or a gorgeous hotel like Le Sirenuse. What was it like seeing your work there?

CB: Completely. It was such a surprise because I was a little bit anxious. Of course, I do everything in the studio based on what I feel. I knew I had this plan to put them up there, but I didn’t have any real idea about how it would look. When I was there last April to mount the work, I was a little bit anxious at the beginning. I thought, “Wow, I hope it works.” But it was fantastic to see it because it fit perfectly—much better than what I thought, I must say. It was really nice. 

In Dialogue with Art

WW: It must have been interesting to see your work in dialogue with the other artworks in the hotel, such as pieces by Alex Israel, Rita Ackerman, and even Nicolas Party, who you know well. Can you elaborate on your relationship with him?

CB: Yes, Nicolas! Years ago, around 2011, I saw an exhibition in the village where I live. Nicolas—who had friends in this village because he was born in the same area, nearly the same village—did the drawings for the communication of the festival. With that, they organized an exhibition, and I went to the opening. I didn’t know him—he’s something like 20 years younger than me, and he was living abroad in Glasgow at that time—but I went and met him and it was so interesting to speak with him about painting, because we have the same obsessions. We looked at the same things, and we are both very fond of historical paints and art history.

At that time, I was leading the art department in Geneva at the art school, and I thought it would be very nice to invite him to it. Each year, for two years, I could invite artists in to work with the team, so I thought it was a nice possibility for the students to speak with somebody nearly their age, but with someone with lots of knowledge about art-making. The director agreed, I invited him, and we worked together for two yeras in at the art school in Geneva.

WW:  What is your favorite space in the hotel? At times, I get lost and find myself in a labyrinth of sorts, wandering from room to room, getting lost in the light and the maze of rooms.

CB: This labyrinth kind of thing is what I prefer. You lose sight completely of what is usual life. In our lives, we are usually so organized; everything is rationalize. Everything is so square. So, the identity of this hotel—a labyrinth—is a mess for the brain. It’s the most holiday feeling I can imagine because you always are discovering something .You’re always surprised. And what is a holiday about? To change your perception of reality. This is what we need to change our context. And in the hotel itself, you change context all the time. I also like that it’s very harmonious—the decoration, materials, and nd so on—but at the same time, it’s always a little bit different. It’s absolutely not some kind of concept applied like Photoshop—poof, poof, poof, the same. Each room, each area, is built and decorated for itself as a special sensation. It’s very, very nice. 

“The identity of this hotel—a labyrinth—is a mess for the brain. It’s the most holiday feeling I can imagine…”

—Caroline Bachmann

WW: Last time I was there, I got lost in thought looking at the floor tiles. 

CB: I love looking at the floors. They are all painted. Some are with one color, some have drawings. And sometimes when you pass through the corridors, you see a floor of a room with a new, interesting pattern. I love that this is something I discover more and more. This harmony is very special, and it is absolutely specific. It’s never random.

A Hidden Gem in Positano

WW: When you were in Positano, did you discover any other hidden gems, outside of the hotel, when wandering through town?

CB: I took the stairs all the way up, and at a certain point, I arrived in a cemetery. It was completely quiet because it was in the morning. Nobody was there. Actually, the cemetery itself was closed, so I took a small path and went around the cemetery. The location was completely marvelous. It’s fantastic. It gave a dimension to life, some deepness to they way we live. It’s always good to have this feeling. And in such a peaceful and beautiful manner. It was a fantastic surprise. It was a gift. 

WW: What else are you working on this summer?

CB: I’m working on a project on a lake. I did a trip last year in October to prepare drawings on Geneva Lake in Wisconsin, next to Chicago. I’m doing a collection of 27 works—unlike Le Sirenuse, which is like one work—about this lake. This work is in my category, historical paintings, and is about migration and hope and desire and what we have to lose or leave behind us when we go somewhere else. 

This whole region I heard was bought by Swiss person who went there. There are many places with Swiss names around there, and they named their lake Geneva Lake. I thought it was a nice correspondence with my Geneva Lake here in Switzerland. 

WW: Were there similarities, other than the name? Perhaps in the shape or the way the landscape looked?

CB: It’s a little bit the same, in a way. It’s not a round lake; it’s also a long lake, but it’s much smaller, and it has no mountains. This was really fantastic for me because I could see the sun until the end. It was completely different. It existed before it was sold, but now around the lake, everything is private properties. Big holiday houses—mansions, gardens, parks. Beautiful trees. But all around the lake, one meter from the water, is a path that has always been public. So, you’re allowed to walk all around the lake. You can’t stop, swim, or picnic, but you can walk. I went with my assistant and we were walking around the lake for either hours—for four or five days. It was a really fantastic experience to be there. We went at about half past five or six o’clock in the morning, and until the sunset—around seven o’clock in the evening. It was so nice to experience that. So, now I’m painting that. 

WW: Where will we be able to see them?

CB: When I began the project, it was just for me, without a destination for the paintings. But in the meantime, there are many destinations. The main destination is a museum in Switzerland—in October 2026. And perhaps before, they may be seen somewhere else.