The Experimental House in Fregene - in Celebration of the Bauhaus's 100th Anniversary

This amazing Brutalist construction in the seaside town of Fregene, outside Rome, is not to be missed. Architect Giuseppe Perugini - who worked with 20th-century Italian masters such as Adalberto Libera and was fascinated with early computer-generated designs - designed this structure in the late 1960s as his summer home. His architect wife (Uga De Plaisant) and son (Raynaldo Perugini) also contributed their talents. Called "Casa Sperimentale" ("Experimental House"), it became a sort of salon for artists and architects in the 1970s and 1980s.

Only a few materials were used - reinforced concrete (hence the Brutalist name -  ‘beton brut’ – raw concrete in French), steel and glass. We saw letters and Roman numerals on the concrete and learned later that at one time Perugini contemplated putting the pieces together in different configurations; so they were each identified.

The stairway was designed to be drawn up, leaving the house almost suspended over a pool.

Raymondo recalled: "Being all three architects, it was a bit of a family toy, at the time of realization each of us proposed solutions and started discussions ... it was a sort of great laboratory ... imagine a scale model!"

Round pieces (perhaps a bathroom or kitchen here at right) and outbuildings (a "gazebo" at left)  add some contrast and softness to the dominant horizontal and vertical shapes (among the weeds now).

The house, also called "Casa Albero" or "Tree House," has fallen into disrepair since the older Perugini's death in 1995. It has had some fame with the 100th anniversary of the Bauhaus (Walter Gropius, 1919), and there is talk of saving it, but I don't have my hopes up.

The property is now more a canvass for graffiti artists than anything else. See the guest house at right.

One can see the house only online or by trespassing (one of us is more willing to do that than the other - you can guess which).

The exterior property wall - designed appropriately - surrounding the parcel of land looked impenetrable (left), but we found an opening in one of the gates.

More photos and video here (text in Italian - use your Google translator if you don't read it).

Bill cited the house in his post on a Rome building.

Casa Sperimentale address: Via Porto Azzurro, 57, Fregene.

1999 statue, emphasizing the (to me)
charlatan Padre's hands. He supposedly
had the stigmata, but then why did he
buy chemicals at his local hardware store?

Besides the seaside attractions of Fregene, which we've enjoyed in prior years (although our Rome friends criticized then our choice of beach towns), the town has a nice cafe' or two, an immense pine grove park, and the requisite statue to Padre Pio.

And thanks to blog reader Giulia, who rents a home in Rome on VRBO, for suggesting this locale in 2016. Sorry it took us 3 years to get here!

Dianne

The town is calm before the summer season heats up.

A modernist gem in Vittoria: the Chiesa di Cristo Re

The area of Rome we're living in is called "della Vittoria," and it begins about a mile north of the Vatican.  It was all developed after 1900.  On the whole, it lacks exceptional buildings, although there are plenty of attractive ones built in the 1920s--large apartment buildings with enticing interior courtyards.

On viale Mazzini

The bronze above the door is by one of the
more famous 20th century Italian sculptors,
Arturo Martini

We've walked the area before, and never paid much attention to the Chiesa di Cristo Re (Church of Christ the King), with its modernist facade of brick.  The other day, having read in our architectural guide that the church was designed by Marcello Piacentini, surely the most famous architect of the Fascist era (and sometimes called "Mussolini's architect"), we made our way to nearby viale Mazzini, where the church stands.  The exterior is in rows of Roman hand-made brick.

And there, on the side of one of the front doors, proof of Piancentini's role, though why the spelling is Marcelli remains a mystery (perhaps an attempt to Latin-ize his name- to go with "Opus" = "work" in Latin).












Inside, the chiesa is rigorously symmetrical, with powerful streamlined features--the narrow, curved balcony in the photo below, and other curved features-- that strike us as unusual, even for the early 1930s, when the building was constructed.

Unfortunately, the modernist features of the structure were not replicated in the mosaic windows that line the sides of the church.  They're colorful, yes, but too busy and complex.

An exception is a fine piece on the left side, near the front door.














The dome is at once powerful and elegant.  Other concrete elements (some of which, on close inspection, need work) anticipate the brutalist era that began in the 1950s.

Christ on his throne, and the angels to either side, are by Achille Funi (another artist favored by the Fascists, and influenced by Giorgio de Chirico's metaphysical style).

Bill

Val Melaina, Serpentara: Can Rome's outer burbs Entertain?

Dianne was skeptical.  Bill had suggested a trip to Val Melaina and Serpentara, contiguous suburbs to the northwest of the city center, not far south of the GRA (the beltway).  He was sure that the area's curving streets would yield some modern architectural treasures.  Even the name "Serpentara" sounded mysterious, possibly dangerous.  Dianne reluctantly agreed to participate.




We began our journey at Junio, the last stop on the new B1 Metro line, which connects to the B line at Piazza Bologna.  Our first site was an apartment complex, seen here from the Junio Metro exit.











A long block up to the right (north), then a left turn and--lo and behold--an historical marker:

    In Questa Palazzina il Maestro
                     Vittorio De Sica
               nel 1948 Girava il film
                   "Ladri di Biciclette"

  De Sica directed parts of "The
    Bicycle Thief" (American title)
    in and around this apartment
    building.



Wow!  Here we were at the building where the master of Italian Neorealism crafted one of the most important films ever made.  How cool is Val Melaina!  And now we know these buildings
are mid-1940s at the latest.

We continued on a broad and, to be honest, uninspiring thoroughfare lined with undistinguished apartment buildings.















A shopping center, more like a strip mall, built for the automobile, across the street (right).















But then: an open-air market, hundreds of yards long.  We liked the sign that said, "A prezzi
fissi   Perfavor...non Perditempo"  (Fixed prices. Please don't waste my time [bargaining])

Another sign, advertising some product that makes bruschetta "facile" (easy).

At the far end of the market, a circular ramp led to an underground garage.  Bill admires anything
that's circular.



Ahead, now in Serpentara, a rather forlorn arcade-style market.  Not much traffic--but it was afternoon, and Italians were eating lunch.  Via Vergilio Talli.

Further on, a circular building that held out some hope of being engaging.

Inside the circular apartment building.  If you
want to visit, the name is Largo Fernando
de Lucia.  It looks very cool on a map.  Today, at this hour, not exactly a hive of activity.

And a wine bar--miraculous!  Unfortunately, it wasn't cocktail hour.

And a not-bad stairway.  The Italians lead the world in designing stairways, imho.


















As we left the complex, a Lazio fan depicted fans of the Roma team as Jews ("Romanista ebreo"). Clever!

On our return, along viale Lina Cavalieri, we passed by this monumental church in the c. 1970 brutalist style.  What a marvel! How many tons of concrete!  Might make a good bomb shelter.

And this handsome modernist structure (left), straight out of the 1930s, or so it seemed.  Perhaps it owes something to Buffalo's grain silos, which were very influential for modernist architects.













Some wall writing whose meaning wasn't clear, to us anyway:  "Valerio Combatte Communista" (complete with hammer and sickle).

Stopped at this cafe for a Coca Lite--at a table outside.  Really a bathroom break.  Though Dianne does need a regular Coca Lite fix. The tavola calda ('hot plate' lunch) looked good.

A nice piece of found art--one of Bill's hobbies.  At home
in Buffalo, Bill printed this on his Epson 3880 at 13 X 19 inches.  Looks fantastic.  Think 1920s Russian constructivism.

Back at the Jonio stop, several hours later.  They could have done better with this building.
Evaluating the walk: Thumbs up?  (Bill)  Thumbs down? (Dianne). In any event, we "burned some Cs."

Bill

Looking for Brutalism: Balsamo Crivelli, Serenissima, and the 544

Some time ago one of our readers--we'll call him Mr. X (if, indeed, he is a man), responded to a piece we had written on Brutalist architecture.  What set off Mr. X was our statement that "There isn't much brutalism in Rome and environs."

"WTH?" began Mr. X.  "The entire 544 ATAC bus line is nothing but Roman Brutalism.  I invite you to visit here and ride it with me.  Get off, take a look at Balsamo Crivelli and tell me the entire facility isn't classic Brutalist architecture.  La Questura headquarters at Serenissima station as well. All of post-Fascist Rome is as Brutalist as it comes. How can you have missed it?  Dear God, come see it! Rome is almost entirely Brutalist.  Look at her government architecture.  I live here!"

The 544

RST didn't ride the 544 with Mr. X, but we did, indeed, take the 544 bus from Balsamo Crivelli to Serenissima station.  Despite asking a dozen people where the Questura might be found, we never found the headquarters to which Mr. X refers, and an internet search revealed no Questura within a mile and a half.

What we did find is the subject of this post. But first a little background on Brutalism.  As used by scholars, the term Brutalism refers to an architectural movement of the mid-1950s through the 1970s. The word Brutalism derives from the French term beton brut (raw concrete), the material identified with Brutalism.  Buildings made with raw, unfinished, and uncovered concrete often have a fortress-like feel and appearance.  Then there are the "brick brutalists," who combine detailed brickwork with concrete.

So, whether you're talking about Brutalism or Brick Brutalism, you've gotta have concrete, and it has to be "raw"--that is, unfinished.  It doesn't count as Brutalist if it's covered with marble, or even if it's covered with a concrete finish, such as stucco.  There are thousands of stucco buildings in Rome, but none of them are Brutalist by the standard architectural definition.

Some of the post-1960 apartment buildings that line Viale della Serenissima.  "Brutal" perhaps--that's a matter of
taste--but not Brutalist.  

Brutalism is most often identified with government buildings, universities, shopping centers, and housing projects.  Architects have generally avoided using the term.  And, importantly for the Mr. X argument--the term has more recently become part of the popular discourse, referring (says Wikipedia) to "buildings of the late-twentieth century that are large or unpopular--as a synonym for "brutal."

To our knowledge, the only Brutalist
structure in Serenissima.

Here's the bottom line: neither Serenissima nor Balsamo Crivelli has many buildings that qualify as Brutalism by their use of raw concrete.  We found only one such building in Serenissima: curiously, a church bell tower.

And Balsamo Crivelli has one, maybe two.  Nor did we find much raw concrete on the ride between the two suburbs.

The Autostrade HQ, ahead center right.

The headquarters of the Autostrade, which lies just outside the center of Balsamo Crivelli, is
standard, government-issue late modernism, but it isn't Brutalism.

All concrete all the time.  Brutalist.  The Soviet look.

Just to the south of the Autostrade building is an apartment complex that seems to us to qualify as Brutalism.  We first saw it from the 544, again on our walk back.   









Both places have plenty of large apartment buildings, many of them without distinction, some of them downright ugly.  Most are not Brutalist, but the one on the left, above, is.

Corviale-esque in its length and sameness.  But unlike Corviale, it's not concrete.

And Serenissima has a large apartment complex made up of identical, stucco-covered buildings, one after the other, receding into the distance (below).  Not enticing, but not Brutalism.

Looks like "projects."  You might not want to live there, but it's not Brutalism.

In short, Balsamo Crivelli and Serenissima have many buildings that are "large" and "unpopular" (for Mr. X, a at least)--that is, "brutalist" with a small "b," buildings that look "brutal" (again, to Mr. X, at least). Aside: Serenissima is a generally unappealing place, but it does have a new, chic, modern bar/wine bar.

Amidst all those big apartment buildings and "projects," this
elegant coffee/wine bar.  Estro, Viale della Serenissima 67

Balsamo Crivelli is centered on a park that could be elegant, or at least attractive, were it not so overgrown.  Across the street from the park we found a building that, while perhaps not Brutalist in the classic sense, was shockingly so by the cultural definition--and has a Brutalist feature.

One of the ends of the "U"

The ends of the U-shaped building, facing the street, seem to be mostly raw concrete.  The interior of the U is leavened by the balcony railings.  But the centerpiece of the building--the mass of concrete that apparently feeds underground garages--took us by storm.

Ground level shops, now mostly abandoned, swallowed
by the concrete pit.

It's both Brutalist and brutal--one of the ugliest interior courtyards ever designed.  The architect expected that the space just above the parking area--the ground floor of the apartments--would be lined with shops.  But they're mostly gone, victims of that concrete pit below.

According to one source, Brutalist structures often express in the most obvious way "the main functions and people flows of the buildings."  That's what is happening here. From the street one can see where people live, where they are expected to shop, and--especially in this case--where they'll park.

RST would like to thank "Mr. X" for his comment; for helping us work out some of the issues; for getting us into two interesting and seldom-visited neighborhoods, both remarkably close to central Rome; and for leading us to that new wine bar.  Now if only we can find the Questura.

Bill

Francesco Berarducci's Brutalist Masterpiece: Villino Colli della Farnesina

It's tucked in the hills above the Palazzo Farnesina, the massive Fascist-era building that now serves as the nation's foreign policy center, but was once Fascist Party headquarters.

Less monumental but perhaps more striking, the Villino Colli della Farnesina hugs the street by the same name (no. 144).  The community is gated, but open for a tour on this particular Sunday, the 2nd day of the 5th edition of Open House Roma.

A gated community, but even the gate is cool brutalism.

The front.  Impressive verticality,
deteriorating concrete below.

RST had been looking for an outstanding example of Rome Brutalism--a style, look, and feel based on masses of raw concrete.  We had come to the right place.  There, at Palazzina 16, stood Berarducci's brutalist palazzo, somewhat the worse for wear--the building dates to 1969--but muscular, and even
majestic, still.  As our knowledgeable guide Elisa explained, the front of the building, despite its obvious weight, manages to project  an impressive verticality, while, as we shall see, the back emphasizes the horizontal.

Cantilevered front canopy, now supported by posts.  

The enormous, cantilevered canopy over the front entrance has suffered significant decay--its reinforcing steel bars (rebar) revealed here--to the point where it no longer can be depended on to hold itself up, and is now supported by construction posts.  That condition is likely permanent, since it seems doubtful that the building's owners would elect to finance the kind of high-tech reconstruction used to reinforce the sagging balcony at Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater in Pennsylvania.

Framed in red, that's the front, glass, door, hinged in
the center.

One enters the building through a center hallway that houses services--stairs and the elevator--for apartments on both sides.  The door to the hallway, like some others in the complex, is a single sheet of framed glass, perhaps 10 feet wide, that pivots in the center.

The Berarducci studio

Concrete-framed hole lets  in light, lightens load.

The Berarducci studio, now occupied by the architect's son--also an architect--is on the floor below, entirely below ground level but lit from the end by a large window that looks out onto a sloping garden, and by a large, round hole (in concrete, of course) that drops down into a square glass container with white stones below.  It not only brings in natural light, but lightens the load on the roof of the studio.









Berarducci (1924-1992) is described in the literature as "schivo" (secretive), and he spent most of his later years in this studio, avoiding theoretical debates while focusing on design and construction.

A stone path meanders around the east side of the building, revealing a projection that from inside seems to have no other purpose that to give the building shape and complexity.

Exterior projection right, in the trees.

Interior view/result of the exterior projection, above.

Tiered, Wright-like balconies--that is, like the massive balcony at Fallingwater--dominate the rear of the building, together emphasizing the horizontal line. They've been repaired and repainted,

unfortunately in a creamy color that doesn't match the raw concrete above, left unpainted.  While necessary (one of the balconies is held up with supports), the repairs and painting deprive this part of the building of some of its expressive power: it's no longer raw concrete, but something else.

A visit to a top floor apartment, originally Berarducci's, allows us to appreciate those balconies from inside, where the great expanses maintain their elegance.











The front door opens onto a very large, essentially square living room, slightly sunken; it reminded us of Don Draper's apartment in the Mad Men television series.  It's been poorly decorated--the remaining furniture is

Living Room

Showmanship in Concrete

almost comical--and painted in an uninteresting white, apparently to the tastes of its last tenant, an Egyptian.  The room to the right is more dramatically elevated.  Otherwise, the spaces seem rather ordinary.  The living room is the spectacular center of things.

A not-so-spectacular view of the living room, looking inward.
Bad art, bad decoration.

Church of San Valentino in the Olympic Village.

Berarducci's influences include Le Corbusier, Pier Luigi Nervi (his teacher at the university, where he graduated in 1950), Victor Morpungo, with whom he collaborated on the Torre Spaccato quartiere, Mario De Renzi, and postwar Scandinavian architects.  Most of his work was residential, including Rome palazzine in Via Cavalier D'Arpino and Via S. Giovanna Elisabetta.  He is perhaps best known for the church of San Valentino, in the Olympic Village (1962) and, especially, for the RAI center on Via Mazzini, apparently--though this is difficult to believe--the first all-steel structure in Rome.

The most famous concrete building in Rome is Nervi's Palazzetto dello Sport, on RST's Top 40.

For more on concrete, see Adrian Forty, who lectured on the topic this year at the American Academy in Rome and has inspired RST to do more posts on this topic.

Bill