There are Roman neighbourhoods that feel preserved for tourists, and then there is Monti — still gloriously lived-in, slightly chaotic, and irresistibly atmospheric.
Rome’s first rione (district) lies between the Colosseum, Roma Termini railway station and the Quirinal Palace, its cobbled streets folding through steep hillsides. Once known as Suburra — a rough, working-class district and birthplace of Julius Caesar — Monti has spent the past two decades evolving into one of the city’s most interesting neighbourhoods: a loose weave of artisan studios, indie boutiques, natural-wine bars, vintage stores, and tiny piazzas where students gather late into the night.
And despite its growing reputation as Rome’s coolest quarter, it still feels local.
That tension is exactly what makes Casa Monti such a gem.
Positioned on Via Panisperna — one of Monti’s most cinematic streets — the hotel feels like an extension of the neighbourhood itself. Outside, locals drift between aperitivo bars and tiny galleries; inside, the atmosphere shifts into a richly layered world of colour and pattern.

Designed by Laura Gonzalez, the interiors bypass the marble restraint often associated with Roman luxury hotels. Instead, Casa Monti embraces a kind of joyful maximalism: reds, yellows, corals, greens, striped textiles, fringed lampshades, mosaics and hand-crafted details are layered with cinematic confidence. Here, Greco-Roman-style friezes run across staircases, Pompeii-like motifs unfold beside lacquered wood, and scalloped arches, woven textures and rich patterns create intimately theatrical spaces.

At times, Casa Monti feels less like a hotel than a Roman apartment belonging to an impossibly stylish collector — someone with a weakness for aperitivos, craftsmanship and art. The palette itself is drawn from the city: sun-baked terracotta, faded peach, oxidised bronze, creamy travertine and saffron tones softened by Roman light. Even the sunflower-yellow Fiat 500 permanently parked outside the entrance feels like part of the playful design language.
No two rooms are quite alike. The suites are filled with bespoke furniture, artisanal objects, and references to Rome’s artistic history: handmade lino prints reinterpret ancient mosaics, collages echo the garden frescoes of the Villa of Livia and deep bathtubs open onto terraces overlooking Monti’s rooftops and domes.

The spaces are richly layered, with softness everywhere: gathered fabrics, striped seating, warm lighting and ivy-covered courtyards.
That same atmosphere spills over into the restaurant and bars. Downstairs, the restaurant spreads across a leafy courtyard, an intimate dining room, and a terrace set with woven rattan chairs and mustard-striped banquettes gathered around a sculptural fireplace by Giuseppe Ducrot.
The menu is Roman and unfussy — generous bowls of cacio e pepe, fried artichokes, seafood crudo and seasonal dishes. And are something of a ritual in themselves: maritozzi thick with cream, strong espresso, fruit and pecorino served beneath striped parasols.
Then there is the rooftop.
By late afternoon, the rooftop bar begins to fill with the kind of crowd Monti now attracts: stylish 20-somethings, artists, editors, couples lingering over spritzes, and impossibly elegant Romans who appear to know everyone.
There is also a small, atmospheric spa developed in partnership with Susanne Kaufmann. While it is stocked with Swiss and Austrian skincare, it feels less like a clinical wellness space and more like a hidden private retreat.
All of this makes Casa Monti seem like a small cultural salon embedded within the neighbourhood. Its latest collaboration may best capture that mood.
Some of its suites are not simply booked — they are temporarily inhabited. The concept sounds simple: take a hotel suite and allow an artist to completely reimagine it. The hotel’s current resident is Michael McGregor, who has transformed Suite 203, overlooking Via Panisperna, into an immersive, liveable artwork until 15 October.

Large hand-painted panels subtly reshape the perception of the living space, while sofas, curtains and pouffes are wrapped in McGregor’s distinctive motifs. Even the backgammon set designed by the artist becomes part of the experience.
Born in 1983 and based in Los Angeles after years spent moving between Mexico City, Paris, London, Greece and Italy, McGregor has developed a painterly language that transforms ordinary objects and fleeting observations into dreamlike compositions suspended between memory and imagination.
At Casa Monti, that visual language expands into architecture itself.
“Casa Monti offers a rare opportunity to work beyond the walls of galleries and studios,” says McGregor. “My aim is to craft moments of discovery through small gestures, playful details and subtle interventions that spark curiosity and invite personal engagement.”
That philosophy seems entirely aligned with both the hotel and Monti itself.
From the July issue of Wanted, 2026.














