Articles de revues sur le sujet « Giuseppe Terragni »

Giuseppe Terragni and Pietro Lingeri’s Danteum project has been the subject of numerous studies and investigations. Moreover, in recent years, digital reconstructions of the building have been made which significantly contributed to the understanding of the project and to the knowledge of the design process, as well as to Pietro Lingeri’s role in it. This essay consists of two parts: the first, by Emanuela Ferretti, investigates the context in which the project took shape, with particular regard to the Italian scenario of 1938-1939; the second, by Attilio Terragni, highlights – with the sensibility of the architect-designer – some of the characteristics of the Danteum project and is accompanied by reconstructive drawings of the building, made by the same author on the basis of original drawings by Giuseppe Terragni, preserved in the Terragni Archive in Como.

La ‘disarmante' costituzione dell'asilo determina un momento particolare nell'orizzonte dell'opera di Giuseppe Terragni. Sul piano del rapporto con il suo tempo e dell'analisi del significato dello spazio architettonico č interessante rilevare come, da parte delle diverse e piů importanti letture critiche, questa costruzione si ponesse quale termine di paragone rispetto al resto del suo lavoro; tutte letture fortemente supportate dal dato emotivo sia nel caso di quella coeva che di quella seguente, per via della contrastata, ambigua, diciamo difficilmente decifrabile relazione tra l'autore, le correnti artistiche e culturali nazionali ed europee ed il regime fascista. Comunque sia, per questa piccola costruzione, parlare dell'architettura, dell'oggetto e dello spazio senza contemplare l'orizzonte emotivo quale materia originaria e poi interpretativa, rende incompleta la narrazione.

In recent decades, architectural historians, preservationists, and the general public have shown a growing interest in Fascist-era buildings. Many of the most high-profile examples are those associated with the monumental excesses of the regime. However, new attention has also been focused on more modest buildings that are significant examples of interwar Italian modernism or Rationalism, including former party headquarters (case del fascio). Taking as primary examples works by Giuseppe Terragni, the architect most often associated with Rationalism, as well by Luigi Carlo Danieri and Luigi Vietti, whose interwar contributions to Italian modernism have been less often the focus of scholarly attention, this article traces the postwar histories of case del fascio with the aim of better understanding the ways in which architecture and politics intersect and some of the consequences of this for the contemporary Italian architectural landscape.

<p><strong>Abstract.</strong> This essay presents a proposal concerning the residential buildings of Giuseppe Terragni in the urban area of Como, based on the research activity which has been ongoing in the last few years and the related experiences which have been elaborated up to now to manage, represent and communicate the studies carried out. A new method of integration between research, communication and enhancement is presented with the aim to obtain a synthetic and immersive representation. Two case studies, in particular, are presented: the building for apartments Novocomum and “Case Popolari” in Via Anzani. The paper describes the methodology used, and its purpose, to create a virtual tour of the atrium of Novocomum and common areas of Case Popolari which allows the user to visit the spaces moving inside high definition full spherical immersive images and to consult punctual information referring to heterogeneous historical documents, providing a useful tool in order to study these architectures and contributing to the knowledge and enhancement of this architectural heritage.</p>

Según Michel Foucault y Peter Sloterdijk la arquitectura es un conjunto de técnicas y dispositivos materiales cuyo objetivo es producir sujetos domesticados según un tipo específico de poder. La arquitectura propia del poder disciplinar pretende producir individuos homogéneos acordes con una norma ideal definida a priori a través de unos rituales espaciales lineales y unívocos. En cambio, la arquitectura propia del poder biopolítico utiliza la interconexión de espacios y la indeterminación programática con el objetivo de hacer funcionar la libertad de las personas como medio de auto-domesticación productiva. Dado que la arquitectura docente es una de las principales categorías arquitectónicas involucradas en la producción de sujetos, analizamos tres proyectos paradigmáticos –el colegio Sant’Elia de Giuseppe Terragni, la escuela en Broni de Aldo Rossi y el McCormick Tribune Campus Center de OMA- que muestran el modo en que la arquitectura ritualiza la conducta de sus usuarios.

<p><strong>Abstract.</strong> Historic buildings are fragile systems to be managed and protected during time: in the task of heritage restoration, efficiency improvement interventions should enable a more sustainable building conservation and use. Such measures might be defined within the combination of building survey and energy performance simulation. A good knowledge of materials and physics characteristics is fundamental to weigh correctly any improvement intervention. This can be supported also by documentary research and diagnostics, to detect existing resources and conservation issues. However, how to match all collected qualitative and quantitative data with a building energy model is still an open question. Energy simulation alone gives a partial vision of heritage needs, excluding information which do not affect the thermal performance of the model; on the contrary, a whole building approach is necessary for defining restoration interventions. With the aim of suggesting a methodology to combine both fields of investigation, a case study has been chosen to our purpose: Giuseppe Terragni’s Casa del Fascio (1936). A multidisciplinary process with the combination of building survey, monitoring campaign, on-site investigation and energy modelling has been functional to the understanding of the real building needs and the definition of interventions. Furthermore, the analysis has given to the rediscover of Terragni’s microclimatic control system (not more existing), leading to the choice of reinventing - in a modern way – the existing devices (as curtains), well-balanced on building needs.</p>

This essay reconstructs the career of the 18th-cetnury Neapolitan publicist Giuseppe Maria Galanti, who championed the genre of anthropological geography in the Kingdom of Naples. Although little attention has been paid to Galanti by the English-language historiography, the person and work of the Neapolitan publicist has loomed large in Italian studies on the Enlightenment. In landmark Italian studies, Galanti has been hailed as a clear-sighted reformer committed to the improvement of socioeconomic conditions within the Kingdom. Likewise, the geographical literature he wrote has been read not as such but rather in light of its program of socioeconomic reform. However important that same program was, undue emphasis upon it has conflated his empirical approach to political geography with a connotation of realism that fundamentally has obscured the place of Galanti's project in the history of anthropology and, in particular, the emergence of European ethnography. By reconstructing the career of Galanti, it is my hope to provide a privileged window on what motivated a precocious ethnographer of Europe to undertake the unusual and arduous project of visiting and describing the provinces of his kingdom, on why he chose to conceptualize the terrain of the Kingdom as an object of philosophical study, and on how he understood his vocation in relation to the alternatives available to him as a man of Enlightenment. While bearing in mind the political aims of Galanti's work, this essay will also return it to the context in which it was first conceived and piloted—namely the ethos, epistemology, and professional culture of the human sciences of the Enlightenment city of Naples, which, it can be said, smacked of a Rousseauian contempt for the “civilization” of the capital, for its learned professions, and for the cosmopolitan theories of Europe's most urbane philosophes.

The Heteronomy of architecture «is understood as the condition to be pursued if one sets one’s goal of producing buildings that belong to one’s own time, to the complex interweaving of values and needs that characterise it, to the place where they arise»1. Heteronomy in architecture allows us to break the boundaries still linked to the concept of the now obsolete scientific sector. The breaking of these boundaries makes a trans-disciplinary contribution possible and consequently leads us to having a transversal vision. One of the people who recently successfully pursued the road of the Heteronomy of architecture and art through a borderline path is Edoardo Tresoldi, an Italian sculptor who «investigates the poetics of the dialogue between man and landscape using architectural language as an expressive tool and key to reading space». The artist plays with the transparency of the metal mesh to transcend the space-time dimension and narrate a dialogue between Art and World, a visual synthesis that reveals itself in the fading of the physical limits of his works2. Five themes were taken into consideration to address the issue of the heteronomy of architecture with the Sculptor Tresoldi. The first one concerns the PLACE, because architecture, as materially utilitarian, is completely conditioned by the material and immaterial context of which it is part. Tresoldi’s works, in the sense of public art, are to be considered the expression of a heteronomous discipline. In fact, his work is strongly linked to this concept already in the initial choice of material and in the desire to express transparency by encountering paths, languages and transversal dialogues between the elements of the work and those of the landscape. «Inserting an element within a context builds relationships and intertwining dynamics that dialogue in a game of cross-references. The physical elements reconnect us to the archetypes we have built in our experiential journey and then become cultural. The moment we see a tree, for example, the relationship between us and the tree is the one we have built by coming into contact with trees in our lives. Automatically the tree, as well as a house, the sky or other basic elements is already an experience that determines a sort of automatism in relating to that or any other element already experienced. Then there are other elements that are part of our cultural heritage, which preserve and hold within themselves different languages». Working with archaeology, Tresoldi associated the sacredness of the classical language with the transparency and elements of the landscape, constructing images, languages and narratives of the surrounding space. For the sculptor, the Lombardy farmsteads have had an important relevance in the development of his sensitivity to the landscape. Places that at a young age escaped from his everyday life, the abandoned farmhouses are ruins full of poetry characterized by a dimension of transience today. They are the places that inspire the artist because it is here that anyone can go and allow themselves a moment of suspension with themselves and with the place. The second theme tackled is the PROJECT, understood as an action of prefiguration, of casting ahead, beyond cultural, social and historical influences. According to Tresoldi, an author can be compared to an organism that absorbs certain concepts, lives them and finally releases them through the creative act. When the artist finds himself creating a work, he prefers to go to the place to try to intercept the dynamics of the place in which he can find himself and express himself. When he connects with a place and sees the key to intercept certain elements, he lives this process in a partially selfish way, while in the phase of elaboration of the installation the artist expresses himself through recognizable languages common to all. From here the goal is to intercept and work with simple archetypes that make his works as direct as possible: «the process is similar to that of composing a love song that, most of the time, is written by the author in a specific moment lived with a specific person. In that case, the experience is extremely personal but the moment it is told, it becomes a choral experience». A project is therefore nothing more than a work that can build, transcend, or transport from an intimate experience to a collective one. The sculptor also argues that as human beings we construct our knowledge based on personal experiences and we learn about hate, love or a range of feelings often through the same experiences. «Even just talking as human beings we possess a common alphabet that allows us to structure a series of collective experiences. All of this is the synthesis that allows us to connect deeply with what is around us». Beginning with “Opera”, Tresoldi’s latest installation consisting of a colonnade of forty-six wire mesh elements up to eight meters high, located in Reggio Calabria, the third theme can be introduced: TIME. Tresoldi’s forty-six columns, according to the architect Maria Pilar Vettori, recall the “Danteum” project by Giuseppe Terragni and Pietro Lingeri designed in 1939 (never built) and the fresco present in “Sala del Bacio” of Bertoja, realized between 1570 and 1573, in Parma (where Terragni did his military service). Between these three works there seems to be an interweaving, a kind of mechanism of trace, of memory, as if there is a kind continuity in the creative process influenced by the times and by innovation. On this proposal of continuity Tresoldi argues that when an artist no longer works for references, but for necessity of expression, it becomes fascinating to imagine that both he and Terragni, as well as Bertoja, felt the need to use the column element and transparency to tell their essential concept linked to their own time and perception. His choice to use columns in Reggio Calabria is linked to the idea of being able to mark that area with a transparent colonnade that was an open space of crossing and that created perspective corridors both towards the sea and towards the sky: this was for Tresoldi the best way to tell the dimension of the Strait of Messina. «The use of the column as an element refers to a classical archetype and as such is recognized as a pure element for the narrative of a place, of an architectural space». By working with transparency, the sculptor has tried to translate his idea into the language of contemporaneity. This pure relationship with the elements is also what allows us to understand how the meanings of certain archetypes (the column, transparency) have evolved over time. Time, in Tresoldi, has made his idea of transparency change, transforming it into the concept of Absent Matter. Starting from a concept, from an instinct towards a material, one can see how his work on absence has transformed over time. Although today many people associate his work with wireframe drawings, in reality Tresoldi’s work arises from a strongly real, material, analogue action. In fact, his work is based on “sewing” the net, an act that physically would have been conceivable even in the past. However, in ‘65, for example, nobody could have connected it to the wireframe. So, his work, compared to that of Terragni and Bertoja, has also been added to the idea of virtual space constructed in the last twenty years. In addition to this, Tresoldi said that he realized that most of the time he himself does not decide the themes of a work, but they are built by instinct, then translated into a story. For example, when at the beginning of his career he created human figures that lived in the landscape, while building a storytelling around them, these were often defined by the newspapers as “Tresoldi’s fanstasms”. Even if the work had a concept behind it, it was often summarized with this expression. In the image of transparency, the figure of the ghost and the discourse of absence are already intrinsic. This is due, in part, to the fact that it is a visual construction derived from the cinematic world, where a transparent image was used to render the idea of ghosts. Therefore, the evolution of the visual narrative of man has led to narrate the absence through transparency. All this implies that in the moment in which codes are used, images already narrate a value, a story that can vary in time. Another theme, already introduced by transparency, is the one related to MATTER and to Tresoldi’s relationship with materiality, with constructability, with the body, with gravity and with the technical part that approaches the artistic one. The use of the net as an instrument is due to the desire to represent transparency by working on the tensions of the structure. The first works, as stated by the sculptor, were all drawn by hand and built starting from the roll of wire mesh, as if it were a puzzle in which the individual elements were drawn, made, cut and assembled. Over time, however, one learns to know a material and therefore to know, without scientific calculations, where problems of static tightness may arise. In this way, experience has made Tresoldi learn real know-how. However, for large projects it is necessary to interface with engineers for a specific and scientific analysis of the works. It follows that behind each work there is a process in which the artist draws the idea that will subsequently be realized by the team and where the choral action often involves a contamination of languages; a path, an ancestral experience. In this way Tresoldi decides to remain in the artistic dimension linked to the sensibility and the poetics of meeting places rather than flowing into the architectural sphere. Therefore, the building site is no longer intended as a place of work but becomes a means by which to know the place itself, implying a social responsibility linked to the presence of a community that revolves around it. In fact, the sculptor’s artistic training, coming from the world of film set design, still influences his approach characterized by a dimension of collective work in which everyone is part of a process that will be carried out by the “community”. It is precisely from the concept of community and the sculptor’s desire to make a construction site such that his desire to give life, together with YAC - Young Architects Competitions, to TRAC - Tresoldi Academy, a school where, moving from the design phase to the execution phase, a construction is built within a construction site that is a fundamental element of the experience itself, was created. In this case, the construction site is not intended only as a place of construction but as an opportunity in which the complexity of a work is perceived by noting how much what has been imagined really corresponds to reality. Theory must therefore be accompanied by practice, since if a student is given responsibility, he or she becomes an integral part of what is being built and of the project. Designing something in a given place and then building it also allows for the consolidation of “points in the place” that are part of the training experience of designing, understanding and realizing. Training also, according to Tresoldi, should not stop at designers but should concern all stakeholders in the cultural sphere. «In artistic training, the practical approach to the works and experiencing their realization at 360° is also fundamental. For this reason, the goal of TRAC is also to make young people experience all the phases of the installation. The fact that they themselves realize a work from design to production also means letting them deal with all the related needs: from business trips to finding construction services». Another goal of TRAC - Tresoldi Academy is that of a return to the rituality of the past, to the secular sacredness of certain moments lived on site linked to the love of things that, even today, are considered a foundation of both making art and making architecture. According to Tresoldi, a perfect example of training in the field concerns festivals as events capable of creating temporary dimensions and, at the same time, of putting into action an experimentation of a futuristic project. In fact, before building a permanent work, the festival allows to have an effect on the temporary not only in terms of structure but also at the level of imaginable society: «When for a week several people inhabit a place, that place becomes a city. From this point of view, festivals are a very formative experience where practice manages to have – compared to theory – a gap that is the dirt of humanity». The last topic discussed is WHAT’S NEXT, Tresoldi’s future projects. As he himself announced, another project to which he is dedicating himself is STUDIO STUDIO STUDIO. His team is in fact formed, to this day, by different departments – from design to management to communication – that have been formed through the realization of his artistic projects. The idea is to enlarge this structure to the works of other authors so that they can develop and realize large-scale projects in order to enter the world of public works.

Introduction «I have never worked in the technocratic exaltation, solving a constructive problem and that’s it. I’ve always tried to interpret the space of human life» (Vittorio Garatti). Vittorio Garatti (Milan, April 6, 1927) is certainly one of the last witnesses of one “heroic” season of Italian architecture. In 1957 he graduated in architecture from the Polytechnic of Milan with a thesis proposing the redesign of a portion of the historic centre of Milan: the area between “piazza della Scala”, “via Broletto”, “via Filodrammatici” and the gardens of the former Olivetti building in via Clerici. These are the years in which Ernesto Nathan Rogers established himself as one of the main personalities of Milanese culture. Garatti endorses the criticism expressed by Rogers to the approval of the Rationalist “language” in favour of an architecture that recovers the implications of the place and of material culture. The social responsibility of architecture and connections between architecture and other forms of artistic expression are the invariants of all the activity of the architect, artist and graphic designer of Garatti. It will be Ernesto Nathan Rogers who will offer him the possibility of experiencing these “contaminations” early: in 1954, together with Giuliano Cesari, Raffaella Crespi, Giampiero Pallavicini and Ferruccio Rezzonico, he designs the preparation of the exhibition on musical instruments at the 10th Milan Triennale. The temporary installations will be a privileged area in which Garatti will continue to experiment and integrate the qualities of artist, graphic designer and architect with each other. Significant examples of this approach are the Art Schools in Cuba 1961-63, the residential complex of Cusano Milanino in 1973, the Attico Cosimo del Fante in 1980, the fittings for the Bubasty shops in 1984, the Camogli residence in 1986, his house atelier in Brera in 1988 and the interiors of the Hotel Gallia in 1989. True architecture generates itself1: an approach that was consolidated over the years of collaboration with Raúl Villanueva in Venezuela and is fulfilled in Cuba in the project of the Art Schools, where Garatti makes use of a plurality of tools that cannot be rigidly confined to the world of architecture. In 1957, in Caracas, he came into contact with Ricardo Porro and Roberto Gottardi. Ricardo Porro, who returned to Cuba in 1960, will be the one to involve Vittorio Garatti and Roberto Gottardi in the Escuelas Nacional de Arte project. The three young architects will be the protagonists of a happy season of the architecture of the Revolution, they will be crossed by that “revolutionary” energy that Ricardo Porro has defined as “magical realism”. As Garatti recalls: it was a special moment. We designed the Schools using a method developed in Venezuela. We started from an analysis of the context, understood not only as physical reality. We studied Cuban poets and painters. Wifredo Lam was a great reference. For example, Lezama Lima’s work is clearly recalled in the plan of the School of Ballet. We were pervaded by the spirit of the revolution. The contamination between knowledge and disciplines, the belief that architecture is a “parasitic” discipline are some of the themes at the centre of the conversation that follows, from which a working method that recognizes architecture as a “social transformation” task emerges, more precisely an art with a social purpose. Garatti often cites Porro’s definition of architecture: architecture is the poetic frame within which human life takes place. To Garatti architecture is a self-generating process, and as such it cannot find fulfilment within its disciplinary specificity: the disciplinary autonomy is a contradiction in terms. Architecture cannot be self-referencing, it generates itself precisely because it finds the sense of its social responsibility outside of itself. No concession to trends, to self-referencing, to the “objectification of architecture”, to its spectacularization. Garatti as Eupalino Valery shuns “mute architectures” and instead prefers singing architectures. A Dialogue of Luigi Alini with Vittorio Garatti Luigi Alini. Let’s start with some personal data. Vittorio Garatti. I was born in Milan on April 6, 1927. My friend Emilio Vedova told me that life could be considered as a sequence of encounters with people, places and facts. My sculptor grandfather played an important role in my life. I inherited the ability to perceive the dimensional quality of space, its plasticity, spatial vision from him. L.A. Your youth training took place in a dramatic phase of history of our country. Living in Milan during the war years must not have been easy. V.G. In October 1942 in Milan there was one of the most tragic bombings that the city has suffered. A bomb exploded in front of the Brera Academy, where the Dalmine offices were located. With a group of boys we went to the rooftops. We saw the city from above, with the roofs partially destroyed. I still carry this image inside me, it is part of that museum of memory that Luciano Semerani often talks about. This image probably resurfaced when I designed the ballet school. The idea of a promenade on the roofs to observe the landscape came from this. L.A. You joined the Faculty of Architecture at the Milan Polytechnic in May 1946-47. V.G. Milan and Italy were like in those years. The impact with the University was not positive, I was disappointed with the quality of the studies. L.A. You have had an intense relationship with the artists who gravitate around Brera, which you have always considered very important for your training. V.G. In 1948 I met Ilio Negri, a graphic designer. Also at Brera there was a group of artists (Morlotti, Chighine, Dova, Crippa) who frequented the Caffè Brera, known as “Bar della Titta”. Thanks to these visits I had the opportunity to broaden my knowledge. As you know, I maintain that there are life’s appointments and lightning strikes. The release of Dada magazine provided real enlightenment for me: I discovered the work of Kurt Schwitters, Theo Van Doesburg, the value of the image and three-dimensionality. L.A. You collaborated on several projects with Ilio Negri. V.G. In 1955 we created the graphics of the Lagostina brand, which was then also used for the preparation of the exhibition at the “Fiera Campionaria” in Milan. We also worked together for the Lerici steel industry. There was an extraordinary interaction with Ilio. L.A. The cultural influence of Ernesto Nathan Rogers was strong in the years you studied at the Milan Polytechnic. He influenced the cultural debate by establishing himself as one of the main personalities of the Milanese architectural scene through the activity of the BBPR studio but even more so through the direction of Domus (from ‘46 to ‘47) and Casabella Continuità (from ‘53 to ‘65). V.G. When I enrolled at the university he was not yet a full professor and he was very opposed. As you know, he coined the phrase: God created the architect, the devil created the colleague. In some ways it is a phrase that makes me rethink the words of Ernesto Che Guevara: beware of bureaucrats, because they can delay a revolution for 50 years. Rogers was the man of culture and the old “bureaucratic” apparatus feared that his entry into the University would sanction the end of their “domain”. L.A. In 1954, together with Giuliano Cesari, Raffella Crespi, Giampiero Pallavicini and Ferruccio Rezzonico, all graduating students of the Milan Polytechnic, you designed the staging of the exhibition on musical instruments at the 10th Milan Triennale. V.G. The project for the Exhibition of Musical Instruments at the Milan Triennale was commissioned by Rogers, with whom I subsequently collaborated for the preparation of the graphic part of the Castello Sforzesco Museum, together with Ilio Negri. We were given a very small budget for this project. We decided to prepare a sequence of horizontal planes hanging in a void. These tops also acted as spacers, preventing people from touching the tools. Among those exhibited there were some very valuable ones. We designed slender structures to be covered with rice paper. The solution pleased Rogers very much, who underlined the dialogue that was generated between the exhibited object and the display system. L.A. You graduated on March 14, 1957. V.G. The project theme that I developed for the thesis was the reconstruction of Piazza della Scala. While all the other classmates were doing “lecorbusierani” projects without paying much attention to the context, for my part I worked trying to have a vision of the city. I tried to bring out the specificities of that place with a vision that Ernesto Nathan Rogers had brought me to. I then found this vision of the city in the work of Giuseppe De Finetti. I tried to re-propose a vision of space and its “atmospheres”, a theme that Alberto Savinio also refers to in Listen to your heart city, from 1944. L.A. How was your work received by the thesis commission? V.G. It was judged too “formal” by Emiliano Gandolfi, but Piero Portaluppi did not express himself positively either. The project did not please. Also consider the cultural climate of the University of those years, everyone followed the international style of the CIAM. I was not very satisfied with the evaluation expressed by the commissioners, they said that the project was “Piranesian”, too baroque. The critique of culture rationalist was not appreciated. Only at IUAV was there any great cultural ferment thanks to Bruno Zevi. L.A. After graduation, you left for Venezuela. V.G. With my wife Wanda, in 1957 I joined my parents in Caracas. In Venezuela I got in touch with Paolo Gasparini, an extraordinary Italian photographer, Ricardo Porro and Roberto Gottardi, who came from Venice and had worked in Ernesto Nathan Rogers’ studio in Milan. Ricardo Porro worked in the office of Carlos Raúl Villanueva. The Cuban writer and literary critic Alejo Carpentier also lived in Caracas at that time. L.A. Carlos Raul Villanueva was one of the protagonists of Venezuelan architecture. His critical position in relation to the Modern Movement and the belief that it was necessary to find an “adaptation” to the specificities of local traditions, the characteristics of the places and the Venezuelan environment, I believe, marked your subsequent Cuban experience with the creative recovery of some elements of traditional architecture such as the portico, the patio, but also the use of traditional materials and technologies that you have masterfully reinterpreted. I think we can also add to these “themes” the connections between architecture and plastic arts. You also become a professor of Architectural Design at the Escuela de Arquitectura of the Central University of Caracas. V.G. On this academic experience I will tell you a statement by Porro that struck me very much: The important thing was not what I knew, I did not have sufficient knowledge and experience. What I could pass on to the students was above all a passion. In two years of teaching I was able to deepen, understand things better and understand how to pass them on to students. The Faculty of Architecture had recently been established and this I believe contributed to fuel the great enthusiasm that emerges from the words by Porro. Porro favoured mine and Gottardi’s entry as teachers. Keep in mind that in those years Villanueva was one of the most influential Venezuelan intellectuals and had played a leading role in the transformation of the University. Villanueva was very attentive to the involvement of art in architecture, just think of the magnificent project for the Universidad Central in Caracas, where he worked together with artists such as the sculptor Calder. I had recently graduated and found myself catapulted into academic activity. It was a strange feeling for a young architect who graduated with a minimum grade. At the University I was entrusted with the Architectural Design course. The relationships with the context, the recovery of some elements of tradition were at the centre of the interests developed with the students. Among these students I got to know the one who in the future became my chosen “brother”: Sergio Baroni. Together we designed all the services for the 23rd district that Carlos Raúl Villanueva had planned to solve the favelas problem. In these years of Venezuelan frequentation, Porro also opened the doors of Cuba to me. Through Porro I got to know the work of Josè Martì, who claimed: cult para eser libre. I also approached the work of Josè Lezama Lima, in my opinion one of the most interesting Cuban intellectuals, and the painting of Wilfredo Lam. L.A. In December 1959 the Revolution triumphed in Cuba. Ricardo Porro returned to Cuba in August 1960. You and Gottardi would join him in December and begin teaching at the Facultad de Arcuitectura. Your contribution to the training of young students took place in a moment of radical cultural change within which the task of designing the Schools was also inserted: the “new” architecture had to give concrete answers but also give “shape” to a new model of society. V.G. After the triumph of the Revolution, acts of terrorism began. At that time in the morning, I checked that they hadn’t placed a bomb under my car. Eisenhower was preparing the invasion. Life published an article on preparing for the invasion of the counterrevolutionary brigades. With Eisenhower dead, Kennedy activated the programme by imposing one condition: in conjunction with the invasion, the Cuban people would have to rise up. Shortly before the attempted invasion, the emigration, deemed temporary, of doctors, architects, university teachers etc. began. They were all convinced they would return to “liberated Cuba” a few weeks later. Their motto was: it is impossible for Americans to accept the triumph of the rebel army. As is well known, the Cuban people did not rise up. The revolutionary process continued and had no more obstacles. The fact that the bourgeois class and almost all the professionals had left Cuba put the country in a state of extreme weakness. The sensation was of great transformation taking place, it was evident. In that “revolutionary” push there was nothing celebratory. All available energies were invested in the culture. There were extraordinary initiatives, from the literacy campaign to the founding of international schools of medicine and of cinema. In Cuba it was decided to close schools for a year and to entrust elementary school children with the task of travelling around the country and teaching illiterate adults. In the morning they worked in the fields and in the evening they taught the peasants to read and write. In order to try to block this project, the counter-revolutionaries killed two children in an attempt to scare the population and the families of the literate children. There was a wave of popular indignation and the programme continued. L.A. Ricardo Porro was commissioned to design the Art Schools. Roberto Gottardi recalls that: «the wife of the Minister of Public Works, Selma Diaz, asked Porro to build the national art schools. The architecture had to be completely new and the schools, in Fidel’s words, the most beautiful in the world. All accomplished in six months. Take it or leave it! [...] it was days of rage and enthusiasm in which all areas of public life was run by an agile and imaginative spirit of warfare»2. You too remembered several times that: that architecture was born from a life experience, it incorporated enthusiasm for life and optimism for the future. V.G. The idea that generated them was to foster the cultural encounter between Africa, Asia and Latin America. A “place” for meeting and exchanging. A place where artists from all over the third world could interact freely. The realisation of the Schools was like receiving a “war assignment”. Fidel Castro and Ernesto Che Guevara selected the Country Club as the place to build a large training centre for all of Latin America. They understood that it was important to foster the Latin American union, a theme that Simón Bolivar had previously wanted to pursue. Il Ché and Fidel, returning from the Country Club, along the road leading to the centre of Havana, met Selma Diaz, architect and wife of Osmany Cienfuegos, the Cuban Construction Minister. Fidel Castro and Ernesto Che Guevara entrusted Selma Diaz with the task of designing this centre. She replied: I had just graduated, how could I deal with it? Then she adds: Riccardo Porro returned to Cuba with two Italian architects. Just think, three young architects without much experience catapulted into an assignment of this size. The choice of the place where to build the schools was a happy intuition of Fidel Castro and Ernesto Che Guevara. L.A. How did the confrontation develop? V.G. We had total freedom, but we had to respond to a functional programme defined with the heads of the schools. Five directors were appointed, one for each school. We initially thought of a citadel. A proposal that did not find acceptance among the Directors, who suggest thinking of five autonomous schools. We therefore decide to place the schools on the edge of the large park and to reuse all the pre-existing buildings. We imagined schools as “stations” to cross. The aim was to promote integration with the environment in which they were “immersed”. Schools are not closed spaces. We established, for example, that there would be no doors: when “everything was ours” there could not be a public and a private space, only the living space existed. L.A. Ricardo Porro recalled: I organised our study in the chapel of the former residence of the Serrà family in Vadado. It was a wonderful place [...]. A series of young people from the school of architecture came to help us […]. Working in that atmosphere, all night and all day was a poetic experience (Loomis , 1999). V.G. We felt like Renaissance architects. We walked around the park and discussed where to locate the schools. Imagine three young people discussing with total, unthinkable freedom. We decided that each of us would deal with one or more schools, within a global vision that was born from the comparison. I chose the Ballet School. Ivan Espin had to design the music school but in the end I did it because Ivan had health problems. Porro decided to take care of the School of Plastic Arts to support his nature as a sculptor. Gottardi had problems with the actors and directors, who could not produce a shared functional programme, which with the dancers was quite simple to produce. The reasons that led us to choose the different project themes were very simple and uncomplicated, as were those for identifying the areas. I liked hidden lands, I was interested in developing a building “embedded” in the ground. Ricardo, on the other hand, chose a hill on which arrange the school of Modern Art. Each of us chose the site almost instinctively. For the Classical Dance School, the functional programme that was provided to me was very meagre: a library, a deanery, an infirmary, three ballet classrooms, theoretical classrooms and one of choreography. We went to see the dancers while they were training and dancing with Porro. The perception was immediate that we had to think of concave and convex spaces that would welcome their movements in space. For a more organic integration with the landscape and to accommodate the orography of the area, we also decided to place the buildings in a “peripheral” position with respect to the park, a choice that allowed us not to alter the nature of the park too much but also to limit the distances to be covered from schools to homes. Selma Diaz added others to the first indications: remember that we have no iron, we have little of everything, but we have many bricks. These were the indications that came to us from the Ministry of Construction. We were also asked to design some large spaces, such as gyms. Consequently, we found ourselves faced with the need to cover large spans without being able to resort to an extensive use of reinforced concrete or wood. L.A. How was the comparison between you designers? V.G. The exchange of ideas was constant, the experiences flowed naturally from one work group to another, but each operated in total autonomy. Each design group had 5-6 students in it. In my case I was lucky enough to have Josè Mosquera among my collaborators, a brilliant modest student, a true revolutionary. The offices where we worked on the project were organised in the Club, which became our “headquarters”. We worked all night and in the morning we went to the construction site. For the solution of logistical problems and the management of the building site of the Ballet School, I was entrusted with an extraordinary bricklayer, a Maestro de Obra named Bacallao. During one of the meetings that took place daily at the construction site, Bacallao told me that in Batista’s time the architects arrived in the morning at the workplace all dressed in white and, keeping away from the construction site to avoid getting dusty, they transferred orders on what to do. In this description by we marvelled at the fact that we were in the construction site together with him to face and discuss how to solve the different problems. In this construction site the carpenters did an extraordinary job, they had considerable experience. Bacallao was fantastic, he could read the drawings and he managed the construction site in an impeccable way. We faced and solved problems and needs that the yard inevitably posed on a daily basis. One morning, for example, arriving at the construction site, I realised the impact that the building would have as a result of its total mono-materiality. I was “scared” by this effect. My eye fell on an old bathtub, inside which there were pieces of 10x10 tiles, then I said to Bacallao: we will cover the wedges between the ribs of the bovedas covering the Ballet and Choreography Theatre classrooms with the tiles. The yard also lived on decisions made directly on site. Also keep in mind that the mason teams assigned to each construction site were independent. However the experience between the groups of masons engaged in the different activities circulated, flowed. There was a constant confrontation. For the workers the involvement was total, they were building for their children. A worker who told me: I’m building the school where my son will come to study. Ricardo Porro was responsible for the whole project, he was a very cultured man. In the start-up phase of the project he took us to Trinidad, the old Spanish capital. He wanted to show us the roots of Cuban architectural culture. On this journey I was struck by the solution of fan windows, by the use of verandas, all passive devices which were entrusted with the control and optimisation of the comfort of the rooms. Porro accompanied us to those places precisely because he wanted to put the value of tradition at the centre of the discussion, he immersed us in colonial culture. L.A. It is to that “mechanism” of self-generation of the project that you have referred to on several occasions? V.G. Yes, just that. When I design, I certainly draw from that stratified “grammar of memory”, to quote Luciano Semerani, which lives within me. The project generates itself, is born and then begins to live a life of its own. A writer traces the profile and character of his characters, who gradually come to life with a life of their own. In the same way the creative process in architecture is self-generated. L.A. Some problems were solved directly on site, dialoguing with the workers. V.G. He went just like that. Many decisions were made on site as construction progressed. Design and construction proceeded contextually. The dialogue with the workers was fundamental. The creative act was self-generated and lived a life of its own, we did nothing but “accompany” a process. The construction site had a speed of execution that required the same planning speed. In the evening we worked to solve problems that the construction site posed. The drawings “aged” rapidly with respect to the speed of decisions and the progress of the work. The incredible thing about this experience is that three architects with different backgrounds come to a “unitary” project. All this was possible because we used the same materials, the same construction technique, but even more so because there was a similar interpretation of the place and its possibilities. L.A. The project of the Music School also included the construction of 96 cubicles, individual study rooms, a theatre for symphonic music and one for chamber music and Italian opera. You “articulated” the 96 cubicles along a 360-metre-long path that unfolds in the landscape providing a “dynamic” view to those who cross it. A choice consistent with the vision of the School as an open place integrated with the environment. V.G. The “Gusano” is a volume that follows the orography of the terrain. It was a common sense choice. By following the level lines I avoided digging and of course I quickly realized what was needed by distributing the volumes horizontally. Disarticulation allows the changing vision of the landscape, which changes continuously according to the movement of the user. The movements do not take place along an axis, they follow a sinuous route, a connecting path between trees and nature. The cubicles lined up along the Gusano are individual study rooms above which there are the collective test rooms. On the back of the Gusano, in the highest part of the land, I placed the theatre for symphonic music, the one for chamber music, the library, the conference rooms, the choir and administration. L.A. In 1962 the construction site stopped. V.G. In 1962 Cuba fell into a serious political and economic crisis, which is what caused the slowdown and then the abandonment of the school site. Cuba was at “war” and the country’s resources were directed towards other needs. In this affair, the architect Quintana, one of the most powerful officials in Cuba, who had always expressed his opposition to the project, contributed to the decision to suspend the construction of the schools. Here is an extract from a writing by Sergio Baroni, which I consider clarifying: «The denial of the Art Schools represented the consolidation of the new Cuban technocratic regime. The designers were accused of aristocracy and individualism and the rest of the technicians who collaborated on the project were transferred to other positions by the Ministry of Construction [...]. It was a serious mistake which one realises now, when it became evident that, with the Schools, a process of renewal of Cuban architecture was interrupted, which, with difficulty, had advanced from the years preceding the revolution and which they had extraordinarily accelerated and anchored to the new social project. On the other hand, and understandably, the adoption of easy pseudo-rationalist procedures prevailed to deal with the enormous demand for projects and constructions with the minimum of resources» (Baroni 1992). L.A. You also experienced dramatic moments in Cuba. I’m referring in particular to the insane accusation of being a CIA spy and your arrest. V.G. I wasn’t the only one arrested. The first was Jean Pierre Garnier, who remained in prison for seven days on charges of espionage. This was not a crazy accusation but one of the CIA’s plans to scare foreign technicians into leaving Cuba. Six months after Garnier, it was Heberto Padilla’s turn, an intellectual, who remained in prison for 15 days. After 6 months, it was my turn. I was arrested while leaving the Ministry of Construction, inside the bag I had the plans of the port. I told Corrieri, Baroni and Wanda not to notify the Italian Embassy, everything would be cleared up. L.A. Dear Vittorio, I thank you for the willingness and generosity with which you shared your human and professional experience. I am sure that many young students will find your “story” of great interest. V.G. At the end of our dialogue, I would like to remember my teacher: Ernesto Nathan Rogers. I’ll tell you an anecdote: in 1956 I was working on the graphics for the Castello Sforzesco Museum set up by the BBPR. Leaving the museum with Rogers, in the Rocchetta courtyard the master stopped and gives me a questioning look. Looking at the Filarete tower, he told me: we have the task of designing a skyscraper in the centre. Usually skyscrapers going up they shrink. Instead this tower has a protruding crown, maybe we too could finish our skyscraper so what do you think? I replied: beautiful! Later I thought that what Rogers evoked was a distinctive feature of our city. The characters of the cities and the masters who have consolidated them are to be respected. If there is no awareness of dialectical continuity, the city loses and gets lost. It is necessary to reconstruct the figure of the architect artist who has full awareness of his role in society. The work of architecture cannot be the result of a pure stylistic and functional choice, it must be the result of a method that takes various and multiple factors into analysis. In Cuba, for example, the musical tradition, the painting of Wilfredo Lam, whose pictorial lines are recognisable in the floor plan of the Ballet School, the literature of Lezama Lima and Alejo Carpentier and above all the Cuban Revolution were fundamental. We theorised this “total” method together with Ricardo Porro, remembering the lecture by Ernesto Nathan Rogers.