Ponte in Valtellina is a medieval village rich in history, consolidated to the east of the large alluvial fan of the Ron stream and to the west of the Val Fontana stream in a secure position. It still tells the story of its origins and its economic and cultural development through a harmonious blend of rural and religious architecture, seamlessly tied to the numerous palaces of an enlightened and cultured nobility.

Signs of a very ancient settlement are present uphill from the inhabited area: the San Rocco stone (4th century BC) and the funerary stele of Canino Sissio (3rd century BC) document a solid start to the human settlement process, which reached its peak in the Middle Ages.

Casa Cassan is a historic residence registered with A.D.S.I. (Italian Historic Houses Association) and a FAI "Place of the Heart." Featuring an irregular layout, it grew by incorporating at least two distinct building structures dating back to the 15th-16th centuries. Formerly the residence of the noble Quadrio Peranda family, at the end of the 18th century it passed to the Gerosa-Foppoli-Cassan family, who still inhabits it today. Currently, Antonello Nicola Cassan lives here and hosts the "Dragon Rose Garden" (*Roseto del Drago*).

As a whole, the complex offers the opportunity to book its spaces exclusively for unforgettable stays, events, and mini-weddings, and is designated by the Municipality of Ponte in Valtellina for the celebration of civil marriages and unions.

The project aims to promote the "Spirit of Valtellina" by bringing back to life objects, furnishings, stories, and characters that have inhabited the estate over the centuries, thus giving each guest or visitor a real, non-virtual immersive experience.

Moving from one room to another, up and down galleries and steps, allows one to immerse themselves in the life of a family that was rural and affluent bourgeois with a touch of noble blood. Between the 19th and 20th centuries, they knew how to bring these spaces to life in service of a domestic, yet at the same time entrepreneurial and agricultural economy, respectful of the local culture.

The complex faces Via Ginnasio with its most recent building structures, constructed between the 19th and 20th centuries. It is here, among a wisteria and a pergola, that a journey backward through time begins along the thread of memories, historical evidence, and evocative details.

The guest apartments were created from the offices of great-grandfather Carlo Gerosa, known to everyone as "Carlin Gerosa." An engineer and land surveyor, at the end of the 19th century he held the concession for the "Santa Margherita" argentiferous lead mine in Val Fontana. The modern layout of the facades, rendered with skillful paintwork undoubtedly executed based on an architect's design, is perhaps attributable to him.

The building on the right, with access to the large terrace, expresses the taste of its time through Art Nouveau floral motifs painted on the frieze under the eaves, above the openings, and in the spaces between the windows.

The central structure, given dynamism by a strategic set-back sheltered by the roof overhang, instead exhibits a picturesque Central European-style *trompe-l'œil*, inspired by traditional mountain chalets, featuring lattice work, faux windows, and panels decorated with wooden vine tendrils.

High above, along the slope of the roof, a carved wooden lambrequin trim serves as a visual connection; though it may look fixed, it is actually tilting to allow the shutters to open. Lower down, a charming gallery connects the various structures of the house and offers evocative views and a privileged vantage point to admire the facade—restored in the Baroque era—of the palace opposite. That residence belonged to the Guicciardi family, Knights of St. Stephen, and was perhaps connected to Casa Cassan via underground passages of ancient memory. Notable is the stone main doorway made of Tresivio stone (from the Calvario quarry, closed in the 18th century), surmounted by a fresco depicting the Virgin with Child and Saint Anthony of Padua.

Upon observing the stone gallery, an attentive visitor will have no trouble spotting the loopholes of a dovecote, converted into a bathroom and decorated by the owner's mother, Maria Luisa Bonutti, who attended the Academy of Fine Arts in Venice in her youth and whose creative flair will be discussed further. Another curious detail is preserved where the gallery meets the recess of the house: this space is particularly sheltered, and a landscape in soft colors was painted on one wall, used as a backdrop for portrait photos by a photographer who had his studio here in the early part of the last century.

At the top of the stairs, a delightful little Renaissance portal leads to the ancient noble chapel or master room, ennobled by devotional paintings with the remains of a votive fresco from the late 15th to early 16th century. It depicts Saints Eligius (the original was donated to the parish and is now in the church of San Maurizio), Anthony the Abbot, and Nicholas of Tolentino, though the cycle may have been more extensive. One of these frescoes was donated to the Parish of Ponte, where it is still visible today in the church of S. Maurizio.

The next room, in the past used as a hayloft and paving area where rye was threshed and now called the Winter Garden, anticipates the view and access to an unexpected garden.

Looking at Casa Cassan from the street, one does not suspect the existence of a park, let alone a rustic wing and a second courtyard open toward the greenery.

The rural courtyard, originally completely cobbled, was extremely useful for carrying out many chores: under the portico, laundry was washed and pigs were slaughtered; at the back was the stable that pigs shared with cows, naturally separated from the one housing the horses.

A small ethnographic museum is located in one of the two stables, displaying all the household items found and restored.

Between the 19th and 20th centuries, the entire structure projecting toward the garden was dedicated to productive activities: silkworms were raised and grapes were dried to produce "Sfurzat" in the rooms above the portico, while the ancient heart of the complex—where the frescoes were discovered—had been converted into a storage area and hayloft. But what use was made of these buildings between the 15th and 16th centuries? One thing is certain: at that time, the area must have looked very different, as most of the structures we see today did not exist; on the other hand, others existed that have since been lost.

As for the land, we must imagine it intensely cultivated but mapped out by dry stone walls arranged differently, due to a different division of property. Furthermore, the land behind the complex was not cut by the Sondrio-Teglio panoramic road (built in the 1970s), and the terraced slopes went up the hillside to where the woods begin.

In the current landscape, however, there is a significant element dating back to distant seasons, perhaps even to the centuries that saw the birth of the village: the massive walls of the *Valón*, the gully bordering the garden of Casa Cassan to the west. Its function was to convey water coming from the large wooded area above the village, a potential threat at certain times of the year. And who knows, perhaps the drinking water spring flowing at the top of the Cassan property has always existed as well.

Embraced by vineyards and the scenic backdrop of the Orobie Alps, the garden now unfolds in a sequence of grassy slopes and stone walls, set among roses, hydrangeas, fruit trees, garden vegetables, and a thousand scents of aromatic plants. A fairytale setting that hides its secrets. For years, across the *Valón*, the "water war" was fought. This story involves the spring, the Cassans and their water catchment rights, the neighbor who tried to divert the water toward his own land, and "Carlin Gerosa" who, armed with a shotgun, took back what was his. To store water, the great-grandfather even built a large collection basin.

The remnants of ancient stone pipes discovered while tidying up the garden also relate to the spring—where a dozen taps can still be counted today—as well as the stone boar's head supplying water to a monolithic basin adapted to serve as a fountain. It is no coincidence that one of the holiday home's apartments was named "La Sorgente" (The Spring).

Today the courtyard serves as a welcoming space, and its excellent acoustics have allowed for memorable musical and singing events. It is an open space to the gaze of passersby, but it was not so in the past, when instead of the gate there was a large wooden door that found a new place at the end of the courtyard. However, to retrace the steps of "Carlin Gerosa," one must descend into the 19th-century cellar, where concrete barrels internally lined with glass plates are still preserved, built on-site by the well-known Borsari company of Zollikon near Zurich.

This is not the only cellar: there are three others and even an accessible, restored press. After all, the extensive land property above the house was cultivated with vineyards and the processing of the grapes took place within the domestic walls, so much so that in the courtyard there was a scale for grape baskets (*brente*, now removed), while the boulder on which they were rested still exists.

This first courtyard owes its eccentric layout to changes made over the centuries. While the two bays under the terrace were opened in the 1980s, replicating the features of the two pre-existing bays, the covered parking space for the horse-drawn carriage is undoubtedly more archaic, with a passage to the rear stable for housing horses. Here are the entrances to the apartments of the noble section, whose oldest core originally belonged to the adjacent Casa Quadrio Peranda.

A wisteria softens the double staircase leading to the noble floor (*piano nobile*), today an event space and guest suites, where a long, narrow corridor connects rooms lined up neatly on both sides. The rooms on the left receive light from windows overlooking the public street and are interconnected, making them seem almost like a single space; in reality, each exhibits its own distinctive style and is loaded in the present with new meanings, dedicated to the family branches that crossed paths with the host's life.

The first room enjoys a view of the courtyard and is covered by a simple flat ceiling, the remainder of an ancient *stua* (traditional wooden room).

The second room is frescoed with a *trompe-l'œil* effect, as befitted reception spaces in the 17th century: fake cornices, balustrades, draperies, and foliage scrolls unfold on the vault and lunettes, housing medallion-holding angels and unidentified figures, except perhaps a Saint Jerome. A curious detail: the built-in wardrobe with painted doors acts as a sort of natural refrigerator, thanks to a clever duct that draws breezes of cool air from the cellar.

The last room is flooded with natural light, as a large patrician garden stretches out on the other side of the street. It originally belonged to the adjoining house and shows its structural separateness through the lower level of its beautiful local stone floor and its different ceiling design—a vaulted ceiling featuring a medallion at the center painted with the Quadrio Peranda coat of arms.

This hall is dedicated to majolica sketches created by the owner's parents, Maria Luisa (a graduate of the Academy of Fine Arts in Venice) and Carlo (a chemistry graduate and author of the book *"Salute e bellezza"* [Health and Beauty], published in 1947, expressing his studies and passion for medicinal plants to be used for curative purposes as an alternative to official pharmacopeia). Both were restorers of antique majolica hired by the most important Italian museums and private collections. Behind such an unusual collection lies the fact that, in order to best work on high-value original pieces, it was necessary to produce fake-antique pieces for internal workshop use to test tools, materials, colors, and glazes—in short, plates and tableware that, for obvious reasons, did not go to market but remained within the home walls. Decades ago, right here in the crevice of a wall, a piece of mid-14th-century majolica was found that undoubtedly would have been thrown away had it not fallen into the hands of connoisseurs. It is pleasant to share this episode as a premonition regarding the setup of this "Ceramics Exhibition," but perhaps even more interesting is to deduce that fine tableware was used in this house at an unspecified time.

The rooms to the right of the corridor were bedrooms and are today a suite for guests.

The 17th-century kitchen with a fireplace, built-in seating, and a large sink made of local Tresivio stone features Lombard terracotta flooring, all restored to their original state during a recent renovation. In the second room, a large bedroom overlooks the garden and internal courtyard and is dedicated to the Friulian family of the owner's mother. Dominating the room in a large oval portrait is the grandmother Olga Bonutti Filipputti, who lost her mother at age 11 and was taken by her father to the top boarding school of the era in Haute-Savoie, where she stayed until age 11.

Her father Filipputti manufactured locks that he sold worldwide. On his journeys with caravans across Europe, he also passed through Val Chiavenna and carried his daughter along on the wagons. A large road map of the era is displayed on a wall, which the grandmother and her father carried on the wagon to follow the route. Grandmother Olga spoke little Italian, but spoke the Venetian dialect (*diałeto venesian*), French, and Sinte—the Romani language used for commercial exchange at the time—very well.

In the second half of the 19th century, the apartment was inhabited by a grand-uncle who was a priest. He left a memory of himself and the village in a letter accompanied by a bottle of wine found under the floor during restorations, dated October 22, 1897: *"...the hopes conceived in 1848 – 1859 – 1870 were lost... wine cost 30 lire per hectoliter... ladies and gentlemen go to S. Bernardo on holiday... the village has 2,200 souls... there are two Dairies..."*, signed by priest Giuseppe Foppoli (who describes himself as *"...full of verve"*).

The first floor of the main residence allows direct access to the garden; the second floor, with an identical layout, houses the private apartment of the Cassan family.

Colonel Antonio Cassan married the schoolteacher Elisa Gerosa, daughter of the aforementioned engineer Carlo Gerosa (Carlin), introducing the final surname that brought the house back to its original splendor. Cassan, of Paduan origin from a well-off bourgeois family, brings to mind Carlo Cassan—irredentist, journalist, president of the "Pro Patria" committee, and recipient of the Silver Medal for Military Valor.

The basement level of the residential structure has been left out of the narrative so far, but it is worth remedying this, as decidedly interesting rustic rooms are preserved beneath the frescoed rooms.

From the first courtyard, descending a staircase just wide enough to comfortably pass with a grape basket (*brenta*), one enters a rather large room paved with thick stone slabs and covered by a barrel vault. Preserved here are several tools used up until a few decades ago and an old press for crushing grapes. It is the space reserved for tastings and occasionally comes alive with joyful toasts, just as it did during harvest time.

A smaller vaulted room was always dedicated to operations connected with pressing, while in the neighboring cellar, the barrels used to let the must rest can still be found. This already quite large space doubles with the cellar on the second basement level.

It remains to visit the shop facing Via Ginnasio, opened after World War II to house a greengrocer. On the way to the exit, it is nice to mention the nearby small linen and perfume shop, as well as the shoemaker and the blacksmith who enlivened the neighborhood, handling their tools in the rustic outbuildings that stand as sentinels to the noble entrance of the palace across the street.