Massimiliano Mocchia di Coggiola

Massimiliano Mocchia di Coggiola carries an atmosphere with him, a quiet gravity that shifts the rhythm of any table he joins. Encounters with him, whether across linen or from behind a counter, leave you with the impression that something rare has happened, something shaped by intention rather than chance. He moves through gatherings with a calm sense of mischief, inviting others to settle, breathe, and notice small pleasures often overlooked. A glass poured with care, a remark delivered at the perfect moment, a glance that encourages conversation to linger. He has a gift for turning ordinary evenings into occasions, not through spectacle, but through presence.

When you share time with him, you are reminded that warmth can be cultivated, that connection can be sincere, and that hospitality, when offered with heart, becomes its own form of artistry. There is comfort in his company, and also curiosity, a sense that another memorable hour is approaching. Below, Massimiliano raises a glass and holds court.

THE MODERN DÉFINITION

Arthur Moss defined a boulevardier in 1927 as “a permanent fun seeker. Their life is a perpetual holiday.” What's your definition?

Today's boulevardier cannot have changed much since 1927. In fact, I believe that if the modern boulevardier had a religion, their martyr saint would be Pierre de Régnier, who died at 40 from épuisement due to excessive drinking and eating. I believe very few people ever saw him wearing anything other than a tuxedo or tails. He wrote articles about Parisian nightlife in the ’30s, emptied bottles, listened to jazz, and drew caricatures on tables. He even wrote a remarkable novel, as well as a guide to Deauville (the best chapter is dedicated to the casino…). His poems are among the most entertaining ever written and are dedicated to Montparnasse, luxury hotels, the girls, and alcohol... So the 21st-century boulevardier is perhaps a bit more bobo, but in the sense of boulevardier-bohemian. It is now difficult to be just an idler without being scolded. Régnier was paid (!) to go out at night, whereas we poor devils also have to pass ourselves off as artists, like bohemians, to justify our fashionable alcoholism.

THE SPARK OF THE CITY

Which street corner, café, bar, or park in Paris constantly sparks your creativity?

I have a misplaced fascination with those corners of the city that speak of its past and continue to be experienced in the same way. Pigalle, certain corners of Montmartre... but also the passages (Vivienne, Panorama, Jouffroy) for their dusty luxury and that somewhat forgotten elegance of old Paris. I often return with pleasure to Le Serpent à Plume in Place des Vosges, a breeding ground of creativity and very modern liveliness that connects to the worldly and international tradition of the city. Le Vaudeville, opposite the old Bourse, with its marble and mirrors. I remain faithful to the rive Droite in any case. I prefer authentic grime to the polished grime of new money made on the rive Gauche.

THE ESSENTIAL DEMANDE

The original boulevardiers demanded “wine and a song” to set the scene. What two things (physical or metaphorical) do you “demand” to keep your life feeling like a perpetual holiday?

Given that, wanting to prove myself a boulevardier too, I need wine and songs. Wanting to add a more personal option, I stay within the realm of the bobo I mentioned earlier and would speak of love. Physical and metaphorical at the same time. Eternal or fleeting, it does not matter. The university boulevardier demands "Bacchus, tobacco, and Venus," and I do not think I am very far from that. And it does not matter if the love I am referring to is then just an evening illusion. We are talking about ghosts to feed, we are talking about bachelor machines, as another great boulevardier, Marcel Duchamp, used to say.