The Italy of the Italians Part 4: Bologna and The Evolving Uses of Public Space

 

[caption id="attachment_1986" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Bologna: Distant View of Famous Tower"][/caption]

As well as being home to the world’s oldest university, Bologna has many other noteworthy accolades: it is among Italy's wealthiest cities, it is a favorite destination of Italian tourists when traveling within their own country, and its population growth has been amongst the steadiest in the county. These facts, along with others, make Bologna the most dynamic of the three cities visited on the tour, and the most urban, in a contemporary sense. While there are certainly tourists in abundance, Bologna’s prosperity does not rely on their support alone; it is a national center for commercial trade fairs, publishing houses and bookstores, and academic pursuits of all kinds. It is also a fast-paced city that still maintaining the charms of its smaller Italian brethren.

[caption id="attachment_1901" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Colonnade and Bologna's Duomo"][/caption]

Wandering the streets of Bologna, one does not get the sense the city had a zenith, or point at which its development was stalled or frozen. Its prosperity extended beyond the Renaissance, and in fact continues to this day, making it an interesting venue to take note of an evolution of the uses of public space, new urban typologies, and the changes in the private and public buildings that create them. The most obvious manifestation of this evolution is Bologna's justly famed colonnades. Kilometers of them. Over forty in total, should memory serve me correctly? While other cities have colonnades -- and Bologna certainly did not invent them -- the sheer profusion and varying character of those in the capital of Emilia Romagna is profound. They occur on nearly every street, in every neighborhood, and are made up of every traditional material imaginable. They share many similarities amongst their variety, however. They are typically one or two stories high, have arches defining their street side, and their ceilings are typically groin or arched vaults. These physical attributes are secondary to their spatial importance, for taken in toto, the colonnades create an extension of the public realm into the private -- and vice-versa -- throughout the city. This new venue enabled a finer grain of public space, and perhaps, new levels of social interaction.

[caption id="attachment_1863" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Long Colonnade"][/caption]

Within the common traits, however, there are differences in craft and spatial definition. Those along main shopping streets are, as one would imagine, amongst the fanciest, with their adjoining buildings tempting passers-by with elegantly displayed merchandise, while those defining newer streets are straighter than those in the older parts of the city. Many of those in the university districts are decidedly plainer, even a bit tired looking, and a reflection of the disposable income of the students who frequent them. Yet no matter the use of the adjoining structure, almost every building has a colonnade, shop fronts or not, with some colonnades even occurring along blank walls.

[caption id="attachment_1942" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Simple Colonnade"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1947" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Fancy Colonnade"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1945" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Colonnade Corner"][/caption]

An interesting signifier of the evolution of the colonnade can be found in their exterior designs, and how the uniformity (or lack there of) between individual colonnades untied (or did not) the street wall formed by the buildings. This change is indicative of the conception of the city as a whole, and is key to the evolution of the city in the West. In Bologna, one can see how early on colonnades varied from one building to another, with hardly a care for the design of their neighbors. As time progressed, colonnades became a great unifier of the streetscape, and were designed to the same heights and materials, regardless of the continued individual expressions of the buildings set upon them. This unified design approach marked an important step is seeing the city as a collection of desperate parts, to one where rules of decorum were established, rules of order that reflected the greater stability and confidence projected by urban dwellers in their relationships with one another and with the city itself. The city was less a place of the individual, and more the place of the collective, of the group, and in so being the architecture and the streets they defined were unified. This new, unified conception of the streetscape was a result of an ever more united political and social purpose, and the rising interrelationships between individuals as the market economy took greater hold, and the beneficiaries and drivers of that market economy – the middle class – had a greater role in defining the public realm, and its need for recognizable spaces within which for people to gather, to tend to affairs.

[caption id="attachment_1949" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Early Colonnades"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1912" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Newer Colonnades AlongVia dell'Indipendenza"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1948" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Newer Colonnades Along Via dell'Indipendenza"][/caption]

A similar – yet contrary -- argument, could be made of Bologna’s contemporary, foreign, totalitarian regimes, which expended great efforts on creating unified expressions of their absolute power, their ability to control everything, including the (quasi) public realm. Yet Italy was not a unified country until the late 19th century, and though there certainly were local dukes controlling the affairs of others, their influence could not have been as great in countries such as France, where the powers of the kings was absolute, and where commerce, entrepreneurship, and trade was less important to the well being of the city as was the case in Italy. And I do not need to waste efforts to note the disastrous effects a market economy un-checked can have on cities, as found in profusion throughout the United States. But I digress.

[caption id="attachment_1909" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza Maggiore"][/caption]

Bologna’s most important public space, the Piazza Maggiore, makes use of the colonnade, and the social structure if fostered, to great success. Here, the ground floor activities of the surrounding buildings are not appendages or after-thoughts, but fully integrated uses, with the colonnade being the intermediary brokering the deal between private and public realms, and creating the necessary in-between space often crucial to seeing the grey between the black and white. Bologna’s justly famous left-of-center politics are well served by the Piazza, with open political debate occurring at all hours during our stay there.

[caption id="attachment_1866" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Neptune Fountain"]Pontificator, Piazza San Maggiore

While certainly not unique, and probably not the first of it kind, Piazza Maggiore's splendid Neptune fountain is of a scale and conception that sets it apart, and is the strongest indicator yet of the redefinition of the piazza from a place of politics and markets to one of leisure. This formidable statue breaks in message and in execution from the previously predominant statue paying homage to a city noble man, military hero, or favorite son. It is a statue that pays homage to a mythical character meant to evoke ones fancy, not one's loyalty to the state. By depicting Neptune, the designer made direct reference to Italy's Roman past, Italy’s cultural heritage. Had it been a statue to Caesar August, the same association would have been made, but that would have been more political than cultural, and far less evocative of the new emphasis on leisure activity the piazza was now charged with. By paying homage to Neptune, cultural association is squarely the target. This statue is all about art, not politics. It is meant to be visually entertaining, and not taken too seriously (even tough it is a serious work of art). Its scale -- and its impressive base -- not only defines the space within which it was inserted, but provides ample places on which to sit and socialize. Urban furniture at its finest, and at a grand scale, placed for the pleasure (and appeasement?) of the public.

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[caption id="attachment_1951" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="A Transparent Palazzo"][/caption]

A subtler, yet equally important evolution in urban typology-evolution is in evidence in Bologna as well: that of the de-fortification of the palazzo, in which here I also include the de-fortification of (i.e. planting of) the piazza. Centuries passed between the Piazza Diamante of Ferarra (see previous post) and the palazzo pictured here. Just as the Este Dukes of Ferrara went from castello to Renaissance palazzo, the gentry of Bologna went from the Renaissance palazz0 – and its still essentially fortified demeanor -- to one of  a more refined detailing and openness. Furthering this advancement was a more substantial relationship between palazzo and piazza (now more of a garden, in contemporary parlance), which was afforded by the loggia pictured here, where the loggia gives the palazzo’s residents something pleasant to look at. Were cities becoming safer places, and fortified homes no longer needed? Perhaps. Or was it that city dwelling had evolved beyond simple survival, to expand to notions of sociability, openness, and a closer relationship with nature? Had expressing the pleasures of urban living usurped expressing merely its means of survival? The same questions (and implied answers) could be inferred by the garden in front of the palazzo. This garden is no place of business, or of authority. It is a place in which to relax, to enjoy, all actions that can doubtlessly happen in a non-planted piazza, but here the garden’s obvious use is pleasure -- not business. And the landscape is the perfect medium to make this transition, by presenting a softer image of urban living, the same as the loggia that fronts it.

[caption id="attachment_1910" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Two Towers"][/caption]

Bologna’s charms are not limited to academic musings of the evolving nature of urban space, for it houses many of the typically charming medieval and Renaissance qualities of it neighboring cities. The most famous of these qualities being a pair of massive towers, just outside the Piazza Maggiore. They are all that remains of perhaps dozens of such medieval structures, these two neighbors (like the one in Pisa), are a bit our of true, and unfortunately closed to visitors out of concern that the extra weight might make them collapse. The photo distorts their true sizes -- they are quite tall and massive (see the first image of the post to better sense the size of the tallest), yet are crammed within the smallest imaginable piazza. Of course, Bologna is filled with little gems of buildings, all alone, whose gem-like qualities are more so because of the contrast to the colonnaded buildings.

[caption id="attachment_1944" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Small Chapel"][/caption]

The best of the little gems was the biggest surprise -- a little shop front by Scarpa! At least that is who I assume designed it, as it has all the requisite trademarks. What a great find it was indeed, I only wish time has permitted me to return to it and have a look inside during business hours.

[caption id="attachment_1865" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Scarpa (?) Shop-Front"][/caption]

The changes noted above were not unique to Bologna, and the political and cultural forces that heralded them are informed speculation on my part -- informed mostly by comparing them to the previous cities visited on this tour, and on many previous ones. I will continue to explore the notions of commerce, the market place, leisure, and the political and cultural structures within which they worked formed not only these magnificent Italian cities, but moving also in our own cities, in our own time.

The Italy of the Italians Part 3: Ferrara, City of the Este Dukes (and Great Cycling!)

Ferrara was the second city visited on our tour of Emilia Romagna, but only in sequential order, as its qualities are second to none. A city of 130,000, it is substantially larger than Mantua, and exhibits the extra layers of complexity one envisions accompanying larger size. The Este family governed Ferrara's rise to prominence, which lasted from the 13th through the 18th centuries. Like the other city-states visited, the ruling family's patronage attracted great artists. Imagine say 5th Avenue in New York (old money), combined with the Village or Williamsburg (the newly minted, of course, excluded); or, the patrons living (often housing) the artists they employ, having them at their disposal for a fresco here, a marble bust there. Perhaps some lines of Latin verse? Such a scenario would be difficult to reconstruct today, for the intimate connections between artisan and benefactor are of a different nature, as art today is more-often-than-not seen as critical lens through which to view the elite, not one as a means to legitimize their regime. Suffice it to say that working for the man was seen as a good gig, not something one should shun, and this association is perhaps one factor that lead to urban environments of remarkable quality, even those in a compact package. [caption id="attachment_1815" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Ferrara Night Scene"][/caption]

Unlike the near-future regimes of say, France, the rulers of the Italian city states-drew a closer association between themselves and the cities they inhabited. The state was them, it was true, but the state was of a far more manageable size, perhaps another attribute leading to artistic fruition. When France's Louis XIV wanted a new home, he abandoned the Louvre in Paris, and built his new palace 30 miles outside of Paris at his father's (Louis XIII's) hunting lodge at Versailles, as distant from the poor (that his oppressive rule helped to galvanize, to the great detriment of his grandson, Louis Seize) as possible. He purposefully abandoned the city, and his court (and the artistic trappings of courtly life) joined him. While the Italian dukes did have country estates (as noted in the Mantua post), to my recollection they were more weekend retreats -- not permanent escapes -- as was Versailles or even the Hapsburg's Schoenbrun. Italian dukes were firmly planted in their cities, and they wanted their cities to be just right, as in evidence by the fine buildings they (and their courtiers) commissioned, and the vast art collections their urban domiciles housed (not unlike Henry Clay Frick 400 years later?). Although far from what one would call enlightened or democratic rule, this close association between the ruler and the ruled was a magnet to any artisan desiring both recognition and livelihood.

[caption id="attachment_1823" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Castello Estanse"][/caption]

In Ferrara the hierarchy of ruler to ruled is clearly displayed, and was a key determinant in the city's urban form. Dominating the center of Ferrara is the Este's early domicile, the Castello Estense, whose origins date to the late 14th century. It is easy to imagine the castle being surrounded by a more rural landscape, one that would eventually transform into the city. The Castello is a fortress, and does not project the refined tastes one associates with palazzi built by the Medicis in Florence, or even the Estes' future palazzo down the street. Upon reflection, the castello's more fortified appearance makes sense: cities were reestablishing themselves as the centers of society for the first time since the Roman Empire, and they were still pretty rough places to live. That roughness was reflected in the lack of urbanity of both the rulers and their architects, as the rules of decorum governing the arts were still nascent, still in development. Rural precedents were all that was available -- where castles dominated -- not palazzi. The evolution of the palazzo in its familiar form resulted from architects (and patrons) crafting a new typology, one that reflected a new type of urban living and governance. Pictured below is the successor palazzo to the castello pictured above, and built 100 years later. A few blocks down from the castello, it is squarely within the typology associated with Italian palazzi, (and its derivative French Hotel): a simple box, with regularly arranged yet minimum openings, arranged around a central courtyard, and accessed through a quite large, gated archway. A plan that is remarkably similar, actually, to that of the castello, yet this time reflecting a greater expectation from the owner that their domicile express not only fortitude, but design savvy as well. Savvy displayed by the very artisans a growing city and patronage was available to groom.

[caption id="attachment_1816" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza Diamante"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1817" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza Diamante Detail"][/caption]

Above is a detail from the Diamante, and it reveals its spectacular stone facing (no plaster here!), where one can see the thousands (!) of diamond-shaped profiles cut into the stone blocks. The diamond was the symbol of the Este family, and formed the motif for the building's cladding. The diamond facing is imparts a fine grain the facade, and foreshadows (by about 500 years) the current fetish many architects have with finely delineated building surfaces, such as the Future System's Selfridges building in Birmingham, England. In all honesty, I had never heard of the Palazzo Diamante, and after seeing it, why not? It is spectacular! It currently houses, needless to say, a superb art collection.

[caption id="attachment_1792" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Birmingham Selfridges Building (Wikipedia)"][/caption]

The Diamante is just on the edge of the old town's transition into the new. Relative terms, because the transition occurred in the 16th century. Planning wise, the transition meant going from the crooked, organic streets that were laid out (or better put, evolved) during the Middle Ages and Renaissance, to stick straight streets, and what was to become the planning norm in both Europe and North America. The transition to the gridiron revealed a streetscape that reminded me more of colonial America than Italy, in that the buildings were old, yet arranged in a highly regular, rectilinear manner. Quite a nice cross-section in time. But as in virtually any European city, I confess it was the medieval streets that held the greatest mystery, charm, and beauty. It is, in fact, the clearly demarcated evolution from medieval to modern urban planning that led to Ferrara's recent designation as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

[caption id="attachment_1818" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Post Renaissance Straight Street"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1739" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="A Typical, Organic Street"][/caption]

Ferrara is resplendent with the twisty and curvy, and there is a particular street -- Via Volte -- that combines the labyrinth streetscape with a series of archways and bridges that is unlike any street we had before seen. Adding to its formal singularity was that is contained little retail or other public destinations, making it exceptionally quite, even sublime. Streets like the one pictured below occurred for block after block after block, with the shade to light rhythm afforded by the bridging elements creating a soothing progression.

[caption id="attachment_1825" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Via Volte"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1826" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Bicycle, Via Volte"][/caption]

Contrasting the above mysterious mazes, are Ferrara’s almost complete series of city walls, which date back to the 13 and 14th centuries. Such walls were common place amongst any city of size throughout Europe, but most have long been torn down or simply returned to the landscape, making Ferrara's intact walls a treasure to the community. Walls were of course defensive in nature, but formed an even more important function: that of regulating commerce. The old guild systems and the city's rulers held a tight grip on who was permitted to do business within the city, a grip they zealously guarded. During the reigns of the guilds (and for that matter, until quite recently), the main revenue for cities (and countries) was taxing goods that originated from outside, with walls forming clear and secure venues to extract specie from foreign merchants. Today, the remnants of the walls still demarcate many of the entrances into the city, albeit without gates or tariffs. The tops of the walls, and the frontage alongside them, has been turned into landscaped parks with stunning allays of trees forming regal processions. As found in so much of Ferrara, atop the walls are great cycling paths, boosting Ferrara’s reputation as Italy's premier cycling town.

[caption id="attachment_1736" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Atop the City's Ancient Walls"][/caption]

Returning back to the central town, one comes across some familiar players: piazza, duomo, and shopping street (local retail, rest assured) but with a Ferrara twist: the hybrid Duomo/piazza/market place. I suppose it is not that much of a hybrid, as the typology of the Duomo is founded upon that of the basilica, whose origins were the Roman market place. In Ferrara the evolution has come full circle, as pictured below. The left (sumptuous facade) of the Duomo, is well, duomo-like, complete with religious iconography. Made of marble, its finely carved details and rich, pink hues lend majesty to it presence. Note that efforts for cladding the remainder of the Duomo were suspended so that the campanile (far right) could be completed. Between the two, however, funds seem to have run short, and the bones of the Duomo are bare for all to see: red brick. Nothing unique (or unattractive) here, as many such edifices remain incomplete despite their great age. What is intriguing about this incompleteness is that it fostered a change of use as well, from the sacred to the profane; or, form the house of God to those of commerce (yes, that profane), as borne out by the market stalls/sheds unceremoniously attached to the side of the Duomo.

[caption id="attachment_1827" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Ferrara Duomo Main Elevation"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1843" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Duomo Market Stall Elevation"][/caption]

Beyond and to the left (in the above photo) is one of the towers of the Castello. Again, secular and sacred authority sharing and defining the same, centrally located piazza. Pictured below, and on the opposite facade of the Duomo to the market stalls, is perhaps one of the most successful - yet elusive - public space topologies one could hope for, as I suspect it was created with no forethought whatsoever. It revealed itself while we were enjoying some wine at what is claimed to be Europe's oldest bar (circa 1300). As day fell to evening, we witnessed the gradual, casual, yet purposeful utilization of the low wall at the base of the Duomo as a meeting place, whose seating ledge transformed an otherwise blank wall into a prime gathering place. The photo below was taken just as we took our seats -- within an hour so many people had congregated about it that my photos were unable to clearly depict its architectural setting. The alley formed between the Duomo and the wine bar was barely 20 feet wide, and as long as the market stalls in the above photo. Sufficient foot traffic, a wall at just the right height, intimate enclosure, and the assurance of an audience were the key ingredients to ensuring this unintended meeting place its success.

[caption id="attachment_1744" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Seating Wall along the Duomo"][/caption]

As much of a success as this unintentional, remainder space was, an intentional space was even more so, as bore out by its very active uses. Behind the arched-portal pictured below, was a courtyard space the housed the most visually exciting happenings during our all too brief stay in Ferrara. For consecutive evenings the courtyard hosted the practice of flag-teams. The participants appeared to be of high school age, with coaching from parents. For what future pageant they were practicing, I could only speculate, and it did not matter anyway, for the event was a joy to behold. The venue for the revelry was a large, flat, courtyard, enclosed by buildings perhaps 4 to 5 stories high. An exterior stair alongside one of the buildings provided a great prospect from which to witness the events. There were no shops along the perimeter, no restaurants, no cafes. Just a sufficiently large, unadorned, level, and enclosed public space. A simple space to house spectacular events.

[caption id="attachment_1740" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Entry Portal into the Courtyard of Flags . . ."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1733" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Flag Practice"][/caption]

Taken as an ensemble, the Italians have created the world's most beautiful cities, in all imaginable sizes. From large, to medium. to small, the cities were created by a people with an unmatched skill at designing, nurturing, and -- most importantly of all -- creatively using the public realm. Be they unintentional spaces, those paying homage to the powers that be, or spaces repurposed from uses far removed from their original intent, theirs is a culture that knows better than perhaps any how to create places to share and celebrate public life.

Next: Bologna, the City of Arcades!

Stenciled Bikes

[caption id="attachment_1774" align="aligncenter" width="700" caption="Bike lane outside Schemata Workshop on 12th Avenue."][/caption] Much like Katherine I decided that May, official Bike to Work month, was a great opportunity to recommit to biking to work.  I was a fairly regular bike commuter five years ago when I worked downtown and lived in Greenwood but since then I’ve either worked close enough to walk to work or was on the road traveling for work.  The biggest difference I notice about biking now versus five years ago is all the new bike lanes, green bike lanes at intersections and sharrows (shared-lane markings) painted on the city streets.  These white stenciled bikes painted on the streets definitely make me feel like a more ligitimate user of the roadways.  As a biker I’m always hyper-aware of the dangers present when on the road.  Simple things can lead to dangerous accidents when you are on your bike such as a car door opening while passing parked cars, a car turning right across my path without noticing me, a car pulling out of a hidden driveway, the unaware driver at the four way stop who hasn’t noticed me, a newly formed pothole waiting to devour my bike, and the list goes one.  There are some drivers out there that get frustrated sharing the roadway with bikes but thankfully I have personally found those few and far between. The more common problems I’ve encountered with cars are that we bikers are just not super visible.  The good news is the image of my bike painted on the street seems to go a long way to remind my fellow car-driving road users that I and other bikers are also using the road. Seattle bike system may not be perfect and we have some ways to go before I would truly call us a bike friendly city but I am one biker that is happy with the direction we are headed.

On one of my evening rides home this month I decided to take a detour through downtown and head home along Dexter. It was fun to see the new road improvements currently underway that will create more buffered space between cars and bikes.  Later when I was looking up information about the construction I was surprised to learn that Dexter is one of the highest used bike lanes in Seattle but currently does not actually meet SDOT bike lane guidelines.  This is soon to be changed! The upgrade to Dexter will provide a substantial buffer between cars and bikes.  Most studies show buffers decrease serious bike-car accidents.  Dexter was originally slated for a Cycle Track, a two way bike lane separated from car traffic, but there was  debate on how much added safety (if any) these Cycle Tracks provide and if they were a actually a good fit for Dexter given the uses and layout of the street.  After community feedback the Dexter design was ultimately changed to provide buffer space between cars and bikes but not a Cycle Track.  That said SDOT has other Cycle Tracks proposed throughout the city. Community groups and SDOT are currently working to develop Cycle Tracks in a way that both increases bike ridership while providing added safety.

[caption id="attachment_1775" align="aligncenter" width="600" caption="Dexter road improvements currently underway will add buffered bike lanes."][/caption]

Dexter and the proposed Cycle Tracks are not part of my daily Greenwood to Capitol Hill commute but I’m still very excited for these projects.  New bicycle road improvements encourage more car commuters to become bike commuters. More bike commuters increase bike awareness for drivers and bikers alike. More awareness leads to better and more creative solutions that keep bike commuters safer.  Safer bike commuters lead to more bike commuters…. It’s a feedback loop that will continue to lead us towards a more bike friendly Seattle. And this ultimately leads to a more environmentally friendly way to get all of us to work!

The Italy of the Italians Part 2: Mantua, a Beautiful & Compact Renaissance City

We began our tour in Mantua, the smallest of the three cities on our main itinerary. With a  current population of around 50,000, it rose to prominence during the Renaissance primarily under the Gonzaga family whose authoritarian rule lasted over 300 years. Subsequently, Mantua was ruled at various times by the Austrians and the French until Italian unification in the mid 19th century. Being compact, it provides a wonderful primer on the cities of the region, as well as their more famous brethren in Lombardy and Umbria. Its main piazza, as well as smaller ones adjacent to it, are joined by a network of pedestrian ways, and defined by churches, lesser palazzos, and shopping arcades. The flat terrain makes it an excellent city for cycling.

[caption id="attachment_1657" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Men Sharing Stories, Piazza del Erbe"][/caption]

The main piazza (Piazza Sordello) has the traits that will be a recurring typology thorough out the cities visited: a central piazza, defined the palazzo built by the ruling family, a duomo or church, and some administrative buildings. The uses have changed (with the exception of the duomo), but their role remains the same: that of providing a strong spatial definition with buildings having either a porous ground floor, or sufficient open space adjacent to them to allow for furniture, seating walls, or steps which provide comfortably scaled space about which to gather. Typical too, is that the palazzo now houses a museum or other civic building of note, not the posh residence of the ruling elite. Below, the Palazzo Ducale is to the right, and the duomo to the left. The balconies of an adjacent palazzo (not shown) was where the rulers would cage criminals (or rivals), to die of exposure for all to see. Despite this morbid lineage, its new role the civic museum is as well suited to its location as when it was the home of the ruling elite: being at the center of things and the most prominent building in the central city. The building's uses represent the evolution of the 1000 year old social order, from authoritarian rule to democratic rule; or, a building whose use was by the minority to one whose use is enjoyed by the majority. And as a typology, as a living form of urbanism, this progression was fostered by clarity of plan and hierarchy, enabling such a drastic change in governance (and therefore use) to happen.

[caption id="attachment_1659" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza Sordello & The Palazzo Ducale"][/caption]

Opposite the Palazzo Ducale is the palazzo of the ruling family whose tenure ended when the Gonzaga came to power. Beyond one can see the dome of the famous Basilica San' Andrea. It is interesting to note that when the Gonzagas deposed the previous ruling family, they choose to build their new palazzo opposite the extant, as the former regime had consecrated the Piazza Sordello as the city's most important space a spatial and therefore political ordering that the city's new rulers were smart to capitalize on. Today, the city's residents continue its importance, by making it the most concentrated social space in the city, as witnessed by the many filled cafe tables.

[caption id="attachment_1615" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza Sordello & Palazzo Bonacolsi"][/caption][caption id="attachment_1668" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza Sordello and the Palazzi Bonacolsi & Vescovile"][/caption]

Throughout our stay in Mantua, Italian was the only language to be heard. Though a splendid city indeed, a gauge of Mantua's relative wealth at its apex could be deduced by the paving material of the Piazza Sordello, which is uncut rock, laid in a random pattern (as opposed to cut blocks, or the fancier stone paving tiles of larger cities). Though it may prove a challenge to one wearing high heals, the simple paving does the job well, even if it was a relatively low-budget approach to such an important space. Below, people enjoying on of the many pedestrian ways of Mantua as a simple promenade; not spending, not shopping, not eating, just enjoying. Originally scaled around the pedestrian (for horses and carts were not only smaller than today's automobiles, but were rarer and only available to the wealthy), it is nice to see  many of the streets of Italian cities return to their pre-automotive past and emphasize pedestrian uses.

[caption id="attachment_1658" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Mantua Streetscape"][/caption][caption id="attachment_1669" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza del Erbe"][/caption]

Pictured above and below is a the smaller Piazza del Erbe, where several shopping streets converge. No large palazzos here, just colonnaded shops and housing of what were probably merchants and artisans. Today, its less formal nature is perfect for families to gather, and kick around a soccer ball. Its more casual demeanor is best suited to standing interactions among residents, not the more formal dining that occurs in Piazza Sordello. It was nice to see two public spaces immediately adjacent to each other, of about the same time, but with very different personalities. Personalities that could be traced back to the cities origins and their original uses.

[caption id="attachment_1621" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza del Erbe Adjacent to Piazza Sordello"][/caption]

As day turns into evening, the buildings themselves become more distinctive, and the space defined more mysterious. The contrast between the well-lit ground floors and the darkened upper floors lends this piazza a welcoming glow, yet at the same time a haunting ambiance. And though lacking throngs of visitors, there are just enough residents milling about to make one feel comfortable and safe. It is interesting to ponder just how many people need to inhabit a space to make it work. The prominence of the tower lends importance to the space.

Mantua's significance in Italy's architectural history is assured by its two most significant buildings, each being a masterpiece of their respective authors: the Basilica of San' Andrea and the Palazzo del Te. The basilica is one of the few realized built works by one of Italy's most famous classical theorists, Leon Battista Alberti, whose On the Art of Building in Ten Books is one of the seminal treatises on architecture, and was penned in the mid 15th century. Alberti's basilica has a stunning interior that has recently been restored (its exterior was shrouded in scaffolding, and is hence not pictured), to great success. The barrel vaulting of the space pictured below, is what distinguishes it as a basilica, a typology founded upon Roman precedent, though its original use was as a market not a house of worship.

[caption id="attachment_1625" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Basilica of San' Andrea"][/caption]

I remember fondly Romano's masterwork, the Palazzo del Te from my architectural history courses. Perhaps Italy's most famous secular building, it was the pleasure palace and stables of the Gonzaga family, and is located just on (what was then) the outskirts of the city, and is adorned with festive and at times ridiculous frescoes depicting Greek gods, and well, partying. The interiors are in fantastic condition (no photographs allowed), and the exterior (as shown below), demonstrates an almost perfect knowledge of scale, balance, and proportion. With such an outstanding urban fabric, and two world-class buildings, it is easy to understand how Mantua became a UNESCO world heritage site in 2008.

[caption id="attachment_1672" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Palazzo del Te"][/caption]

As I re-trace the steps of my recent sojourn in the north of Italy, several themes will become apparent: How have spaces' uses evolved over time, while still maintaining their function; what are the commonalities of those uses/functions, and what lessons going forward can they serve us today, in our time, on Capitol Hill, that will help us further the quality of our neighborhood. Up next: Ferrara!

The Italy of the Italians Part 1

Italian culture is arguably the single most important contributor to western civilization. Whether in the arts, sciences, commerce, or even governance (current intrigues, of course, excluded) both the legacies of individual such as Michelangelo, Galileo, Lorenzo De Medici, and Justinian, or the collective influences of the Renaissance and Roman Empire of which they were are part, the Italians' contribution to our way of life is immeasurable and profound. A living testament to this legacy is found in the many fine cites throughout Italy, a few of which form the basis of this series of posts. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300"]

Mantua Skyline[/caption]

Having seen many the cities one typically thinks of when thinking of Italy, my recently completed trip focused on what one may call second (and third) tier cites, in this case mostly in Emilia Romagna. I use the term second and third tier advisedly, for the cities visited are amongst the finest urban environments anywhere, and their lesser notoriety in not a slight to their beauty or charm, merely the lack of recognition of their qualities amongst non-Italophiles.

Visiting Mantua, Ferarra, and Bologna (along with brief stopovers in Modena, Parma, Turin, and Varese) was an opportunity to see a side of Italy unavailable to those whose focus is only on the country's most popular destinations. Unavailable, because those cities are filled not only by their residents, but also throngs of visitors, whose impact on the cityscape is significant. Without the crowds and tour buses, one can arrive at a better sense of how these spaces function on a day-to-day basis -- to see how they function as working cities – and not merely places of leisure. The public spaces visited were filled with the population of the city served, allowing a more tangible measure of their utility and their successes.

[caption id="attachment_1606" align="alignnone" width="300"] Ferrara Streetscape[/caption]

Italy, of course, was not a nation until 1861, so I use the term Italians not to describe a nation in the contemporary sense, but really the group of people who shared a common language and a common history. Unlike say France, Great Britain, or Spain, there was no country of Italy ruled by a powerful gentry (much of Italy was in fact ruled by foreign powers). What it lacked in national unity it made up for in strong regional identity forged by leading cities, with each being the head of government, commerce, and culture for the region. Each primary city was therefore, a distillation of all of the qualities we identify with modern nation states. We too have cities such as these today: London, Tokyo, Paris, and so on, each the cultural, financial, and governing capital of their nation. What is remarkable about the Italian cities described here, is they achieved comparable levels of greatness in their own time, with populations of maybe 30 to 60 thousands and not millions. This compact size relative to greatness allows an intimate relationship to be forged,, even during a brief sojourn.

[caption id="attachment_1597" align="alignnone" width="700"] Bologna the City of Colonnades[/caption]

Mantua, Ferarra, and Bologna’s origins can be traced back prior to the Roman Empire, though they did not flourish until the late Middle Ages or the Renaissance. In addition to this shared imperial heritage they rose to prominence while ruled by a leading family, whose power came from commerce, banking, or land holding. They were also the seats of bishops. Perhaps it was the concentration of governance (both secular and ecclesiastical) and commerce, and its resulting artistic patronage, which fostered these city-states to greatness. A physical manifestation is to be found within the constructs of the city itself. And even though some grounding in history would help one arrive at a conclusion with greater haste, the observant traveler is bound to come to similar conclusions. The palazzo and duomo fronting the piazza (the traditional market place) is an urban typology typical to almost all cities visited; or, in other-words, both the secular and sectarian seats of power defining the place of public assembly and commerce. Always in the center of the historic city, and always easy to identify by the splendor, size, and regalia of their construction, this logical assembly of edifices imparts to one a knowledge of arrival and of place. With the exception of the duomo, the uses of the buildings may have evolved to our present day, but their function has remained the same: clearly designating a hierarchy of relationships and methods of interaction among the citizenry of the city. And though predictable, there is certainly an abundance of variation within the typology to lend interest to each town visited.