Ideas of Ambiente History and Bourgeois Ethics in the Construction of Modern Milan 1881-1969 Angelo Lunati
Foreword Angelo Lunati sets out to define ambiente, a term that had wide currency in the postwar Italian architectural discourse, particularly within the fertile Milanese scene that formed around the charismatic figure of Ernesto Rogers and the journal CasabellaContinuità. The term has recently come back into vogue, as the architecture and the urban achievements of postwar Milan have once more become a focus for academic and professional interest, but the word remains ambiguous and ill-defined. The arguments put forward in this book attempt to overcome this lack of clarity by delving into a specifically Italian discourse that has unfolded over the last two centuries. The story begins by constructing a pre-history for ambiente, detailing the contribution of important intellectual figures like Camillo Boito and Gustavo Giovannoni to an early and essentially Italian definition of ‘historic conservation’. It finds the roots of the term in an articulation of the unique position that history and the city occupy within Italian culture, and specifically in the conditions in Lombardy that would offer a strong impetus to the distinctive forms of architectural and urban practice that emerged in twentieth-century Milan. The narrative describes an appreciation and definition of ‘monuments’ within a city that is inherently ‘anti-monumental’ because of a cultural disposition to avoid grand gestures and radical plans. This is a culture that built up its wealth and influence within a developing modern industrial society while at the same time valuing modesty and a lack of display; a city whose strong environmental identity has been shaped by a multiplicity of partial urban plans and the production of buildings over time, rather than by any overarching styles, concepts or plans. 7
Foreword Angelo Lunati sets out to define ambiente, a term that had wide currency in the postwar Italian architectural discourse, particularly within the fertile Milanese scene that formed around the charismatic figure of Ernesto Rogers and the journal CasabellaContinuità. The term has recently come back into vogue, as the architecture and the urban achievements of postwar Milan have once more become a focus for academic and professional interest, but the word remains ambiguous and ill-defined. The arguments put forward in this book attempt to overcome this lack of clarity by delving into a specifically Italian discourse that has unfolded over the last two centuries. The story begins by constructing a pre-history for ambiente, detailing the contribution of important intellectual figures like Camillo Boito and Gustavo Giovannoni to an early and essentially Italian definition of ‘historic conservation’. It finds the roots of the term in an articulation of the unique position that history and the city occupy within Italian culture, and specifically in the conditions in Lombardy that would offer a strong impetus to the distinctive forms of architectural and urban practice that emerged in twentieth-century Milan. The narrative describes an appreciation and definition of ‘monuments’ within a city that is inherently ‘anti-monumental’ because of a cultural disposition to avoid grand gestures and radical plans. This is a culture that built up its wealth and influence within a developing modern industrial society while at the same time valuing modesty and a lack of display; a city whose strong environmental identity has been shaped by a multiplicity of partial urban plans and the production of buildings over time, rather than by any overarching styles, concepts or plans. 7
A bourgeois endeavour One can equate ambiente with certain qualities that characterise Lombard society, and above all with a sense of sympathy, a sentiment that emerged out of a relatively conflict-free relationship between a ruling oligarchy of grand families and labour. The philosopher Carlo Cattaneo and the political scientist Lorenzo Ornaghi have described how Lombardy experienced an unusually seamless transition, at the end of the nineteenth century, from a rural economy to an urban, industrial one. Instead of the more typical, radical discontinuity between these two forms of economy, the leading members of society remained in place, with a tendency to operate on a similar scale, so contributing to the sense of continuity and stability that are key qualities of Milanese modernisation. In practical terms this meant that compromise and an absence of radical class consciousness in labour relations would characterise the situation in modern Milan. Family networks with diverse, medium-scale economic units allowed technical progress and substantial economic growth to be reconciled with some sense of humanity, something that was impossible in Turin, for instance, where the enormous scale of FIAT dominated the local economy and produced a more typical, confrontational relationship between industrialists and the working class. This conciliatory situation would persist in Milan until the 60s, when the city would be confronted in a more brutal way by the politics and economy of the world around it.
8
Until that time, pragmatism and an antipathy towards ideology would define the Milanese way of working. At the regional scale of Lombardy, ‘sister’ companies had to cooperate with each other in order to compete with more conventional, nationally scaled conglomerates. Everyone, both at the level of management and labour, had to be supported. This avoidance of conflict, a feature of the bourgeoisie’s intrinsic desire for continuity, also informed the Milanese tendency to deploy history as a means to legitimise
the modernisation of the city. Milan’s fragmented history and consequent spatial diversity, and its relatively recent independence from Austria in 1859, meant that history was used in a quite specific way. As described by Boito and his follower Luca Beltrami, history itself had to be re-built ‘scientifically’, so that it became a part of the modern. In Italy’s search for a national identity following political unification, history would become a basis for defining the new. With his analysis of this idea of the ‘historic present’, Angelo Lunati brings together social, political and more explicitly architectural matters to create a robust and useful definition of ambiente, one that can serve as an effective critical instrument.
Professionalism In the context of modern Milan, the concept of ‘professionalism’ was perhaps most strongly embodied by the prevalence of an informal and tolerant sensibility. Although the main actors were privileged and formed a tight and well-connected network, they were first and foremost open-minded and pragmatic, balancing the development of the economy with a responsibility to society as a whole. Their position was explicitly anti-academic; specifically, it was against the academicism that in Italy was synonymous with the ancien régime, where the academy propped up undeserved social status. This was a culture of engineers and problem-solvers; in their background and social status, the ‘professionals’ and their clients were particularly close. The cohesiveness of this group effectively afforded them the political power to enact a more general social programme alongside the more narrowly economic one. A patrician sense of public duty spanned the political spectrum; not all the players were ‘progressive’. This stable idea of society stands in stark contrast to the situation after 1968, when a much more radicalised political narrative articulated by architects like Aldo Rossi and Giorgio Grassi would use ‘professional’ as a dirty word, symbolic of a social structure of privilege and power
9
A bourgeois endeavour One can equate ambiente with certain qualities that characterise Lombard society, and above all with a sense of sympathy, a sentiment that emerged out of a relatively conflict-free relationship between a ruling oligarchy of grand families and labour. The philosopher Carlo Cattaneo and the political scientist Lorenzo Ornaghi have described how Lombardy experienced an unusually seamless transition, at the end of the nineteenth century, from a rural economy to an urban, industrial one. Instead of the more typical, radical discontinuity between these two forms of economy, the leading members of society remained in place, with a tendency to operate on a similar scale, so contributing to the sense of continuity and stability that are key qualities of Milanese modernisation. In practical terms this meant that compromise and an absence of radical class consciousness in labour relations would characterise the situation in modern Milan. Family networks with diverse, medium-scale economic units allowed technical progress and substantial economic growth to be reconciled with some sense of humanity, something that was impossible in Turin, for instance, where the enormous scale of FIAT dominated the local economy and produced a more typical, confrontational relationship between industrialists and the working class. This conciliatory situation would persist in Milan until the 60s, when the city would be confronted in a more brutal way by the politics and economy of the world around it.
8
Until that time, pragmatism and an antipathy towards ideology would define the Milanese way of working. At the regional scale of Lombardy, ‘sister’ companies had to cooperate with each other in order to compete with more conventional, nationally scaled conglomerates. Everyone, both at the level of management and labour, had to be supported. This avoidance of conflict, a feature of the bourgeoisie’s intrinsic desire for continuity, also informed the Milanese tendency to deploy history as a means to legitimise
the modernisation of the city. Milan’s fragmented history and consequent spatial diversity, and its relatively recent independence from Austria in 1859, meant that history was used in a quite specific way. As described by Boito and his follower Luca Beltrami, history itself had to be re-built ‘scientifically’, so that it became a part of the modern. In Italy’s search for a national identity following political unification, history would become a basis for defining the new. With his analysis of this idea of the ‘historic present’, Angelo Lunati brings together social, political and more explicitly architectural matters to create a robust and useful definition of ambiente, one that can serve as an effective critical instrument.
Professionalism In the context of modern Milan, the concept of ‘professionalism’ was perhaps most strongly embodied by the prevalence of an informal and tolerant sensibility. Although the main actors were privileged and formed a tight and well-connected network, they were first and foremost open-minded and pragmatic, balancing the development of the economy with a responsibility to society as a whole. Their position was explicitly anti-academic; specifically, it was against the academicism that in Italy was synonymous with the ancien régime, where the academy propped up undeserved social status. This was a culture of engineers and problem-solvers; in their background and social status, the ‘professionals’ and their clients were particularly close. The cohesiveness of this group effectively afforded them the political power to enact a more general social programme alongside the more narrowly economic one. A patrician sense of public duty spanned the political spectrum; not all the players were ‘progressive’. This stable idea of society stands in stark contrast to the situation after 1968, when a much more radicalised political narrative articulated by architects like Aldo Rossi and Giorgio Grassi would use ‘professional’ as a dirty word, symbolic of a social structure of privilege and power
9
that needed to be challenged. The militancy of 1968 and its insistence on the more abstract politics of ‘class struggle’ denied the possibility that the architect could act as a mediator between the client and society, and vigorously criticised the cosy and privileged set of relationships that characterised the postwar period. Ambiente receded from the narrative, yielding to concepts like ‘monument’ and ‘typology’ that attempted to define the multivalent qualities of modern Milan in a more scientific, academic and, ultimately, narrow way.
What is ambiente?
10
Just south of Milan’s Cathedral, around Via Alberico Albricci, there is an ensemble of 1950s buildings – by Asnago Vender, BBPR, Caccia Dominioni – that probably represents the highpoint of Milan’s modern urbanisation. Occupying sites freed by the construction of the last portion of the Racchetta ring road, they can also be read as the most potent instance of ambiente being used as an effective instrument in that urbanisation. However, as the last buildings of the ensemble were being constructed, Aldo Rossi and others among Rogers’ circle of young editors at CasabellaContinuità began to dismantle the intellectual edifice that had supported the development of Milanese urbanism for more than 80 years. A response to a transformed political and social situation, this new critique anticipated the changing status of the architect in society, premised on a more symmetrical relationship between the ‘artist’ and their ‘work’, the opposite of the collective and consensual achievement of ambiente. The concluding chapter of this book clearly shows that while the historic city was still seemingly the core subject for writers like Rossi and Grassi, in fact their new emphasis on typology, and its ideological baggage, served to negate the very idea of ambiente. The consolidation of industrial interests, the nationalisation of ownership and production, the shift of emphasis to the periphery of the city – all these measures were taken in response to the changing political situation in Italy,
which had both internal and external causes. At the same time as it was exposed to a massive global economic and political shift, Milan experienced the generational exhaustion of the previous bourgeois, family-based political structure. For a contemporary Milanese architect like Angelo Lunati this paints a depressing picture. However, the depth and seriousness of his work develops the idea of ambiente in a fuller and more complex way than has previously been achieved, combining detailed formal and technical analysis of the built city and its projects with an equally close account of the culture that produced Milan, both in specific relation to the built environment and more generally. The close readings of the case studies are particularly illuminating. These are highly detailed and manage to clearly develop an argument using very diverse and extensive material, drawn from writing, drawings, interviews and specially made photographs. I believe that the complexity of ideas in this book is exemplary. The origins and instances of ambiente are described and framed in new ways, and one can see modern Milan with new eyes, and with a sensibility that could usefully be brought to bear in contemporary practice.
Adam Caruso
11
that needed to be challenged. The militancy of 1968 and its insistence on the more abstract politics of ‘class struggle’ denied the possibility that the architect could act as a mediator between the client and society, and vigorously criticised the cosy and privileged set of relationships that characterised the postwar period. Ambiente receded from the narrative, yielding to concepts like ‘monument’ and ‘typology’ that attempted to define the multivalent qualities of modern Milan in a more scientific, academic and, ultimately, narrow way.
What is ambiente?
10
Just south of Milan’s Cathedral, around Via Alberico Albricci, there is an ensemble of 1950s buildings – by Asnago Vender, BBPR, Caccia Dominioni – that probably represents the highpoint of Milan’s modern urbanisation. Occupying sites freed by the construction of the last portion of the Racchetta ring road, they can also be read as the most potent instance of ambiente being used as an effective instrument in that urbanisation. However, as the last buildings of the ensemble were being constructed, Aldo Rossi and others among Rogers’ circle of young editors at CasabellaContinuità began to dismantle the intellectual edifice that had supported the development of Milanese urbanism for more than 80 years. A response to a transformed political and social situation, this new critique anticipated the changing status of the architect in society, premised on a more symmetrical relationship between the ‘artist’ and their ‘work’, the opposite of the collective and consensual achievement of ambiente. The concluding chapter of this book clearly shows that while the historic city was still seemingly the core subject for writers like Rossi and Grassi, in fact their new emphasis on typology, and its ideological baggage, served to negate the very idea of ambiente. The consolidation of industrial interests, the nationalisation of ownership and production, the shift of emphasis to the periphery of the city – all these measures were taken in response to the changing political situation in Italy,
which had both internal and external causes. At the same time as it was exposed to a massive global economic and political shift, Milan experienced the generational exhaustion of the previous bourgeois, family-based political structure. For a contemporary Milanese architect like Angelo Lunati this paints a depressing picture. However, the depth and seriousness of his work develops the idea of ambiente in a fuller and more complex way than has previously been achieved, combining detailed formal and technical analysis of the built city and its projects with an equally close account of the culture that produced Milan, both in specific relation to the built environment and more generally. The close readings of the case studies are particularly illuminating. These are highly detailed and manage to clearly develop an argument using very diverse and extensive material, drawn from writing, drawings, interviews and specially made photographs. I believe that the complexity of ideas in this book is exemplary. The origins and instances of ambiente are described and framed in new ways, and one can see modern Milan with new eyes, and with a sensibility that could usefully be brought to bear in contemporary practice.
Adam Caruso
11
About ambiente Ambiente – the pivot on which this book turns – is a term that has multiple meanings in Italian, and no precise equivalent in English. In essence, the word derives from the Latin ambiens, meaning to ‘go around’ or ‘surround’. Similar to the Greek amphi-, the prefix amb- indicates a circular path, ‘all around, from all sides’. Broadly defined, ambiente is the space that surrounds a person or a thing, the environment in which they exist or move. But the term cannot be reduced to a single meaning, since it belongs to several different discourses: most commonly, nowadays, it denotes a set of complex issues relating to ecology and the protection of the natural world, but it also plays a significant role in the cultural and social sciences, computer science and, of course, architecture. The historian Adrian Forty explains the origin of the concept of ambiente in nineteenth-century architectural discourse in his text Words and Buildings (2000), underlining the differences between the Italian term – as applied in the postwar debate by figures such as Ernesto N. Rogers – and its rather imprecise rendition in English as ‘context’, which gave rise to a series of misunderstandings in the 1970s, most notably between Italian theorists and those inspired by Colin Rowe’s studies on contextualism. These misunderstandings show how important it is to frame the specific meanings of the term at the various stages of the debate, and depending on the authors who use it. We can see this in the Milanese architectural discourse, where the precise meaning of the term fluxes over the decades, sometimes attracting qualifiers – ambiente pittoresco, ambiente dei monumenti, ambientismo, preesistenze ambientali – at other times being associated with terms such as Umwelt or Lebenswelt, locus. What all these different nuances of the idea of ambiente have in common is the emphasis they place on the dialectical relations between architecture and the society, culture and history of a place. In contrast with the universally repeatable condition of many rapidly
13
About ambiente Ambiente – the pivot on which this book turns – is a term that has multiple meanings in Italian, and no precise equivalent in English. In essence, the word derives from the Latin ambiens, meaning to ‘go around’ or ‘surround’. Similar to the Greek amphi-, the prefix amb- indicates a circular path, ‘all around, from all sides’. Broadly defined, ambiente is the space that surrounds a person or a thing, the environment in which they exist or move. But the term cannot be reduced to a single meaning, since it belongs to several different discourses: most commonly, nowadays, it denotes a set of complex issues relating to ecology and the protection of the natural world, but it also plays a significant role in the cultural and social sciences, computer science and, of course, architecture. The historian Adrian Forty explains the origin of the concept of ambiente in nineteenth-century architectural discourse in his text Words and Buildings (2000), underlining the differences between the Italian term – as applied in the postwar debate by figures such as Ernesto N. Rogers – and its rather imprecise rendition in English as ‘context’, which gave rise to a series of misunderstandings in the 1970s, most notably between Italian theorists and those inspired by Colin Rowe’s studies on contextualism. These misunderstandings show how important it is to frame the specific meanings of the term at the various stages of the debate, and depending on the authors who use it. We can see this in the Milanese architectural discourse, where the precise meaning of the term fluxes over the decades, sometimes attracting qualifiers – ambiente pittoresco, ambiente dei monumenti, ambientismo, preesistenze ambientali – at other times being associated with terms such as Umwelt or Lebenswelt, locus. What all these different nuances of the idea of ambiente have in common is the emphasis they place on the dialectical relations between architecture and the society, culture and history of a place. In contrast with the universally repeatable condition of many rapidly
13
1. The nineteenth-century Romantic roots of ambiente
The unity one could immediately sense in the small Bavarian cities between past and present, between the solemn cathedral, the proud public palace and the humble houses of the twisting lanes, between the three fine arts together and the industrial art as well, between walls, towers, bridges, squares, the colour of the facades, the pavements of the streets and the inhabitants – all this combined picturesque force is vanishing in the insipid, invading, invincible, contemptible cleanliness of the present. Camillo Boito, Gite di un artista, 1884
1. The nineteenth-century Romantic roots of ambiente
The unity one could immediately sense in the small Bavarian cities between past and present, between the solemn cathedral, the proud public palace and the humble houses of the twisting lanes, between the three fine arts together and the industrial art as well, between walls, towers, bridges, squares, the colour of the facades, the pavements of the streets and the inhabitants – all this combined picturesque force is vanishing in the insipid, invading, invincible, contemptible cleanliness of the present. Camillo Boito, Gite di un artista, 1884
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building’s distinctive character, the irregularity of the lot and the proximity of noble residences are elements of environmental relation with the place that fuel its particular expressive energy. Just as silk production in Lombardy combines a long local tradition with innovative technological systems that allow it to compete on an international level, so the building on Via Santa Valeria represents a refined idea of modernity – not as something generic and abstract, representing a break with the past, but rather as an approach defined by deep roots in history, a natural expression of the bourgeois culture and entrepreneurial class of the city. The decoration that runs through the design of the facade, the timber frames of the balustrades of the balconies and internal staircases, the sculptured wooden panelling and the mosaic floors, all seem to emerge from the elements of construction, never appearing to have been applied artificially, after the fact. The facade towards the street – a vast, uniform surface in Ceppo stone – is carefully shaped, like a weave, to adapt to the mixed geometry of the section, as we can see in the facade detail. In this building, there is a continuity between the decorative expression of the facade and ‘elastic, vibrant enclosure’ of the internal spaces.60 The theme of the diamond with different lines appears both inside and outside, while the ductile, organic imagery of Art Nouveau resurfaces, tamed, at the end of a long path, by the stylising impulses of terser syntactic constructs – something more like the accentuated linear arrangement of Art Deco. Portaluppi’s interest in the ‘environmental character’ of a building is already evident in his earlier work on the restoration of Palazzo Durini, as we see from the short text that he and his colleague Raffaele Calzini dedicated to the client, Senatore Borletti. ‘Il palazzo e la famiglia Durini in due secoli di vita milanese 1648–1848’ is an ‘environmental’ description of the building, revealing an interest not only in the specific architectural and constructive aspects of the palazzo but also in the relationship between building and client, and in the part played by Milanese Baroque architecture in shaping the city’s distinctive identity. Novecento and ambiente
Where Giovanni Muzio had taken the recovery of nineteenthcentury Milanese culture as the natural reference point for his idea of environmental continuity, Portaluppi instead identified the 1600s and 1700s as the city’s golden age, shaped by architects such as Francesco Maria Richino, Pelligrino Tibaldi and Fabio Mangone: With the Gothic traces destroyed here and there in Milan and ruined or corrupted by new buildings, the Spanish influences having faded almost without trace, the true Lombard buildings in brick and terracotta having vanished or been overwhelmed, these new architects led by Richino give the city very noble palaces, though adopting seventeenthcentury elements, or more precisely baroque elements from other capitals and other styles; taking the opportunity to add a personal imprint, a character determined by local affinities. In Milan this can be said to be the golden age of architecture (the Napoleonic era is less rich, less interesting, and that of Piermarini is more a manner than a style).61 Filatura Cascami Seta building by Piero Portaluppi
Street view and courtyard facade of Palazzo Durini, photographs from P. Portaluppi, R. Calzini, ‘Il palazzo e la famiglia Durini in due secoli di vita milanese 1648–1848’, 1924
111
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building’s distinctive character, the irregularity of the lot and the proximity of noble residences are elements of environmental relation with the place that fuel its particular expressive energy. Just as silk production in Lombardy combines a long local tradition with innovative technological systems that allow it to compete on an international level, so the building on Via Santa Valeria represents a refined idea of modernity – not as something generic and abstract, representing a break with the past, but rather as an approach defined by deep roots in history, a natural expression of the bourgeois culture and entrepreneurial class of the city. The decoration that runs through the design of the facade, the timber frames of the balustrades of the balconies and internal staircases, the sculptured wooden panelling and the mosaic floors, all seem to emerge from the elements of construction, never appearing to have been applied artificially, after the fact. The facade towards the street – a vast, uniform surface in Ceppo stone – is carefully shaped, like a weave, to adapt to the mixed geometry of the section, as we can see in the facade detail. In this building, there is a continuity between the decorative expression of the facade and ‘elastic, vibrant enclosure’ of the internal spaces.60 The theme of the diamond with different lines appears both inside and outside, while the ductile, organic imagery of Art Nouveau resurfaces, tamed, at the end of a long path, by the stylising impulses of terser syntactic constructs – something more like the accentuated linear arrangement of Art Deco. Portaluppi’s interest in the ‘environmental character’ of a building is already evident in his earlier work on the restoration of Palazzo Durini, as we see from the short text that he and his colleague Raffaele Calzini dedicated to the client, Senatore Borletti. ‘Il palazzo e la famiglia Durini in due secoli di vita milanese 1648–1848’ is an ‘environmental’ description of the building, revealing an interest not only in the specific architectural and constructive aspects of the palazzo but also in the relationship between building and client, and in the part played by Milanese Baroque architecture in shaping the city’s distinctive identity. Novecento and ambiente
Where Giovanni Muzio had taken the recovery of nineteenthcentury Milanese culture as the natural reference point for his idea of environmental continuity, Portaluppi instead identified the 1600s and 1700s as the city’s golden age, shaped by architects such as Francesco Maria Richino, Pelligrino Tibaldi and Fabio Mangone: With the Gothic traces destroyed here and there in Milan and ruined or corrupted by new buildings, the Spanish influences having faded almost without trace, the true Lombard buildings in brick and terracotta having vanished or been overwhelmed, these new architects led by Richino give the city very noble palaces, though adopting seventeenthcentury elements, or more precisely baroque elements from other capitals and other styles; taking the opportunity to add a personal imprint, a character determined by local affinities. In Milan this can be said to be the golden age of architecture (the Napoleonic era is less rich, less interesting, and that of Piermarini is more a manner than a style).61 Filatura Cascami Seta building by Piero Portaluppi
Street view and courtyard facade of Palazzo Durini, photographs from P. Portaluppi, R. Calzini, ‘Il palazzo e la famiglia Durini in due secoli di vita milanese 1648–1848’, 1924
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‘It is necessary to insert the building in the city in which it is born, to understand its poetry and history’, Portaluppi asserted in the preface to his text on Palazzo Durini. The extent to which he studied – and then intelligently exploited – that history is evident from the resonances between the palazzo and the building on Via Santa Valeria. Here is Portaluppi’s description of the stone facades of Palazzo Durini:
Previous spread: P. Portaluppi, Filatura Cascami Seta building, 1924, facade detail, ACM and contemporary close-up view Overleaf: Filatura Cascami Seta building, contemporary view of courtyard facade
The rather flat monotony of the whole, raised by the dynamic line of the central balcony grafted onto the casement of the large door below and solidly tied to the corbels that support it, gains character from the raised and deep sculpture of the grotesque mascarons and manages to form an organically fused segment, welded stone to stone as if it had emerged from a single block…The frames of the windows, the cornice, the base, the lateral bands that separate the building are all in stone, so the entire part of the facade in masonry, coated in indigo yellow, is totally framed in the stone.62
Regarding the palazzo’s garden facade, he wrote: In the part towards the garden the architect seems to have renounced the colossal proportions and display of crafted stone that enliven and strengthen the facade towards Via Durini, limiting himself to decoration more suitable for a villa than for a city building.63
The same modulation of character and expression can be seen in the building on Via Santa Valeria, which establishes environmental relations in three distinct directions. While the aspect towards the street is somehow made more urban thanks to P. Portaluppi, Filatura Cascami Seta building, 1924, ground-floor plan, APP (above), view of central atrium, APP (below)
Filatura Cascami Seta building by Piero Portaluppi
115
‘It is necessary to insert the building in the city in which it is born, to understand its poetry and history’, Portaluppi asserted in the preface to his text on Palazzo Durini. The extent to which he studied – and then intelligently exploited – that history is evident from the resonances between the palazzo and the building on Via Santa Valeria. Here is Portaluppi’s description of the stone facades of Palazzo Durini:
Previous spread: P. Portaluppi, Filatura Cascami Seta building, 1924, facade detail, ACM and contemporary close-up view Overleaf: Filatura Cascami Seta building, contemporary view of courtyard facade
The rather flat monotony of the whole, raised by the dynamic line of the central balcony grafted onto the casement of the large door below and solidly tied to the corbels that support it, gains character from the raised and deep sculpture of the grotesque mascarons and manages to form an organically fused segment, welded stone to stone as if it had emerged from a single block…The frames of the windows, the cornice, the base, the lateral bands that separate the building are all in stone, so the entire part of the facade in masonry, coated in indigo yellow, is totally framed in the stone.62
Regarding the palazzo’s garden facade, he wrote: In the part towards the garden the architect seems to have renounced the colossal proportions and display of crafted stone that enliven and strengthen the facade towards Via Durini, limiting himself to decoration more suitable for a villa than for a city building.63
The same modulation of character and expression can be seen in the building on Via Santa Valeria, which establishes environmental relations in three distinct directions. While the aspect towards the street is somehow made more urban thanks to P. Portaluppi, Filatura Cascami Seta building, 1924, ground-floor plan, APP (above), view of central atrium, APP (below)
Filatura Cascami Seta building by Piero Portaluppi
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Ideas of Ambiente History and Bourgeois ethics in the construction of modern Milan, 1881–1969 by Angelo Lunati
Archival images courtesy of: Archivio Comune di Milano (ACM); Archivio Fotografico Municipale (AFM); Archivio Fotografico Camillo Boito (AFCB); Archivio privato Giovanni Muzio (AGM); Archivio Fondazione Piero Portaluppi (APP); Archivio privato famiglia Rasini (AR); Archivio privato BBPR (ABBPR); Archivio privato Asnago Vender (AAV); Archivio privato famiglia Zanoletti (AFZ); Archivio privato Mirella Cirla (AMC); Archivio privato Luigi Caccia Dominioni (ACD) Photographs by Daniele Marzorati: 62–63, 70–71, 104–105, 108–109, 113, 116–119, 124–125, 128–135, 145, 223–225, 227, 230–231, 237, 240–243, 248–251, 256–257, 262–263 Editor Pamela Johnston Design and layout Nikola Lik Man Jelenkovic Printing and binding DZA Druckerei zu Altenburg, Thuringia Lithography Widmer & Fluri GmbH, Zürich © 2020 Angelo Lunati and Park Books AG, Zürich Park Books Niederdorfstrasse 54 8001 Zürich Switzerland www.park-books.com Park Books is being supported by the Federal Office of Culture with a general subsidy for the years 2016–2020. All rights reserved; no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher. ISBN 978-3-03860-153-1