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

Alone in the Rome Modern Art Gallery, with Cataldi and Marini

Galatea by Amleto Cataldi, 1925

We first discovered sculptor Amleto Cataldi (1982-1930) "in the weeds" in the Olympic Village (Villagio Olimpico) in Rome.  We later learned that his sculptures of athletes--placed seemingly haphazardly in green space (also known as weeds) in this athletes' housing built for the Rome 1960 Olympics--came from the 1911 Flaminio Stadium that was torn down to make way for the new Olympic stadium by Pier Luigi Nervi.

But... recently, on a visit to one of our favorite, lightly-visited museums in Rome, the Galleria d'Arte Moderna di Roma Capitale (the city's - as opposed to the state's - modern art gallery) we discovered a Cataldi sculpture virtually headlining the current exhibition on 1920s and 1930s Italian art, originally purchased for what was then called Galleria Mussolini.  Unlike his muscular athletes, Cataldi's Galatea here - a late, 1925 work -  is smooth and modern (note the hair-do).  The fish in her hand is appropriate because the statue was designed to be part of a fountain.

And, we can't resist another preview of this exhibition, "Fragment" by Marino Marini (1901-1980), who lived past the Fascist era.  This piece from 1929 is an excellent example of the artistic desire to replicate a ruin - to layer the past and the present.  It fits with the importance the Fascists gave to hearkening back to ancient Rome.  This fragment nude is a nice contrast to Cataldi's modern female nude.

Frammento by Marino Marini, 1929

 And when we stepped outside of the museum, we saw this creative courier and his "sculpted" vehicle.

The gallery is open Tuesday-Sunday 10 a.m. - 6.30 p.m.  Euro 7.5 for most of us.  via Francesco Crispi, 24 - between the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps, up the block from the Gagosian Gallery.  There won't be any crowds.  In fact, you may be the only one there.
Dianne

Oldest Supermarket in Rome: 1961

Tucked away behind the 1960 Olympic Village, where the athletes stayed, and backed up against the busy Lungotevere dell'Aqua Acetosa, is the first grocery store in Rome, or so we hear.  Not the first

store that sold groceries--that would take us back into the 19th century, no doubt--but the first American-style grocery, Rome's first supermarket.  By American standards you won't find it "super"; it's quite modest in size, perhaps a 10th of the floor space of the U.S. equivalent, and not much larger than two 7-11s--maybe 3.

The Carrefourgoncino/Shopping at Home

Nor is the exterior especially noteworthy, though the enormous surface parking lot--room for at least a hundred cars and never close to half full--is, for Rome, a spectacle, and for shoppers, a gift.  Dianne took pleasure in the "Carrefourgoncino"--the store's van, parked right there in the spectacle.  The van's name is a word-play on the name of the market--Carrefour--and the Italian word for van, "furgone."

The banners outside the store's entrance announce that the store is open 24/7.  We haven't tried the place at 3 a.m., but I wouldn't count on getting the baby formula at that hour. 

The best part is the wall to the right as you enter, which you can scan as you're waiting in line to be checked out.  Though it didn't open until 1961, the store was apparently built for the 1960s games.  With that in mind, the current owner/tenant, the Carrefour chain, has mounted half a dozen large photos of athletes at the games.

This section of photos is labeled "La Moda del Villaggio" (Village Style)

The store, as it looked probably in the early 1960s.  

While Dianne was shopping I was photographing the photos.  I have included one of them here, as
well as another of the store in operation sometime in the early 1960s (the signs above the vegetables are vintage early-60s shape).  Then a woman cashier (not the owner or the manager) rushed up, shook her finger, and told me that what I was doing was "proibito."  End of photo session. 


Bill  

Not far to the west, the underbelly of the architecturally
significant Corso di Francia

And all around, the buildings of the Olympic Village, now residential housing

Le Corbusier in Rome. Well, not exactly.

Le Corbusier's Cité radieuse, Marseilles, 1947-1952.  Balconies a feature.  

Le Corbusier (1887-1965), the French/Swiss pioneer of architectural modernism, built nothing in Rome.  Nor, apparently, was he influenced by the city, which he failed to visit on a wide-ranging tour as a young man.

Still, Rome came to mind while reading Rachel Donadio's story in a recent New York Times (July 13, 2015), based on several new books on the architect and an exhibition at the Pompidou Center.  Once again, the issue is the extent to which Le Corbusier's architectural values and ideals were modernist and democratic--housing for the masses could easily be understood as fulfilling an underlying democratic mission (meeting the needs of the people)--or essentially totalitarian (Le Corbusier was involved with right-wing parties in France in the interwar years, and he was an admirer of Mussolini).

Concrete supports for Cité radieuse

This is not the place to resolve or devote serious attention to the issue of Le Corbusier's politics and ideology.  What interested us at RST was the color photo that accompanied the essay.  The photo was of Cité radieuse (Radiant City), a complex of 337 apartments constructed in Marseilles between 1947 and 1952 and repeated in other European cities in 1955, 1957, 1963 and 1965.  It was constructed of rough-cast concrete (a material identified with the Brutalist movement to come) and partly for that reason is a considered a founding statement of Brutalism.  The Marseilles building is widely understood as one of Le Corbusier's most important works.

No, you can't see Le Corbusier in Rome.  But you can experience something of his vision in Rome's Flaminio district, where Italian architects Adalberto Libera and Luigi Moretti, among others, were working in a similar vein on, and around, the Olympic Village, built for the 1960 games.  The village is a bit over a mile north of Piazza del Popolo--a 10-minute tram ride will get you close--and well worth seeing.

Olympic Village, Rome

Supports for Corso Francia (Luigi Moretti)

The Olympic Village complex consists of dozens of buildings, some smaller and some larger--longer, that is--than Citeé radieuse, and of brick rather than concrete.  But the overall scale and look is similar, as is the use of color to lighten the weighty look of the structures. Both the Cité radieuse and the Olympic buildings are elevated, the former with massive concrete stanchions, the latter with smaller columns with more of a modernist flavor.  The Le Corbusier supports have their equivalent in Luigi Moretti's massive concrete supports for the Corso Francia, an elevated highway that bisects the Olympic Village and was built at about the same time.

Elegant rooftop, Cité radieuse

Like Le Corbusier, Libera, who headed the Village architectural team, employed a flat roof and used it to feature a rounded ventilation system that added to the complex's modernist appeal. 


Both Libera and Moretti worked for, and during, Mussolini's Fascist regime.  Libera was the lead architect on the Foro Mussolini (now Foro Italico), located northwest of the Olympic Village, just across the Tevere. 



So visit the Olympic Village.  It's the closest you'll come to Le Corbusier in Rome.

Bill

Olympic Village topped by round, modernist ventilation system.  Colors, too, and balconies.  

Olympic Village

The 1960 Rome Olympics: an Itinerary

The 1960 Olympic games opened on August 25, 1960.  On the 53rd anniversary of the occasion, we re-publish a post from 2010. 

A new expanded itinerary of Foro Italico and the area across the Tevere from it, Flaminio, is now one of 4 walks in the new guide: Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler.  Along with the tour of Foro Italico and Flaminio, Modern Rome features three other walks: the 20th-century "garden" suburb of Garbatella, the Fascist-designed suburb of EUR; and a stairways walk in classic Trastevere.  This 4-walk book is available in all print and eBook formats The eBook is $1.99 through amazon.com and all other eBook sellers.  See the various formats at smashwords.com. 

Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler now is also available in print, at amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, independent bookstores,  and other retailers; retail price $5.99.

As readers of an earlier post on Ethiopian marathoner Abebe Bikila will know, Rome was the site of the summer Olympics fifty years ago, in 1960, when 8,000 athletes from around the world were exposed to the charms of the Eternal City and, less happily, to its sultry August weather. By all accounts the games were an organizational success; even the Germans were impressed.

Like all events of this scope, Rome's Olympics left behind a significant architectural heritage, much of it built for the games, though some events utilized facilities built under Fascism or dating to ancient Rome. Bikila's record-breaking, barefoot race began at the foot of Michelangelo's Campidoglio steps and finished after dark, under the illuminated Arch of Constantine. Rowing events took place not on the roiling Tevere, but on Lago Albano, the volcanic gem in the nearby Alban Hills (we recommend the long path around the lake shore). Some boxing matches and the basketball finals, where Jerry West, Jerry Lucas, and Oscar Robertson worked their still-amateur magic, were held in the Palazzo dello Sport, the Pier Luigi Nervi masterpiece built for the games and located in the Fascist-built EUR complex south of the city center. Not far from the Coliseum, the 4th-century Basilica di Massenzio was transformed into a three-mat wrestling facility (the recent photo at left shows the Bascilica being used for a high-profile series of lectures by famous authors). The Cold War politics of the games were played out here and there, most notably, perhaps, at Scoglio di Frisio (below right),

a restaurant founded in 1928 and (still) located at via Merulana 56, where US sprinter David Sime dined awkwardly with Soviet broad jump specialist Igor Ter-Ovanesyan, in a meeting the CIA hoped would lead to Ter-Ovanesyan's defection to the West. It did not.

For the most part, however, the center of the 1960 games was Flaminio, a relatively undeveloped zone at the city's northern edge, about two miles beyond the gate at Piazza del Popolo, straddling the Tevere. To begin your journey into Rome's Olympic past, take Tram #2 from the piazza just to the north of Piazza del Popolo. Get off at Piazza Apollodoro. Looking to your left, the first building you'll see is Pier Luigi Nervi's Palazetto dello Sport, a graceful concrete delight, embracing the curvilinear modernism that was the era's best contribution to architectural history. It was built in 1957/58 (prefabricated, and assembled in 40 days) for the Rome Olympics. The dome is of concrete, and it's supported by concrete flying buttresses, which allow for natural to penetrate the interior all around the building. The basketball team played some of its games in it.

The building was immediately recognized as an outstanding work; in 1962, while traveling on a Stanford foreign campus program, the authors of this blog found themselves
seated inside the the structure, listening to a lecture on its aesthetic virtues. Avery Brundage, the hard-wired head of the International Olympic Committee, compared Nervi's structures to the works of "Bernini and Michelangelo, and the momuments left by Hadrian, Trajan, and other Caesars."

Immediately to the north and east of the the Palazetto, and occupying many acres, is the Villaggio Olimpico (Olympic Village), which housed the athletes that competed in the games (it's now simply a housing project). As you walk through the enormous complex, you'll notice that most of the streets are named after countries: via Unione Sovietica, via Portogallo, via India, and so on. Then, as now, the area was divided, and one might say rather inelegantly, by an elevated highway: Corso Francia. A shame? Perhaps, but when it was designed and built (1958-60), the roadway was elevated, and placed on single pilasters, precisely to avoid its functioning as a great barrier with the Olympic Village. Elevated roadways were all the rage in this period, both for aesthetic reasons and because highway engineers believed they were magical solutions to traffic problems. Remarkably, the architects in this case were Antonio Nervi and Pier Luigi Nervi. In retrospect, the project was done about as well as it could have been. Think of it as the most artistic viaduct you've ever seen.

The architects of the viaduct surely could not have anticipated one of its uses. At the games, the highway served as a natural divider between the women athletes, housed on its west side, and the men, housed on the east. Everyone, it seems--it was an era outstanding for its prudery--was concerned that the boys would get into the girls' rooms, and so everything was gated, fenced, and guarded. Despite the precautions, Italian men found binoculars and telephoto lenses, parked their cars on the Corso, and enjoyed the view.

The buildings within the Village were designed by a team of distinguished architects that included Adalberto Libera, one of Fascism's best and most prominent architects (in a December 3, 2009 post, we offered Libera's via Marmorata post office as one of Rome's 20th-century architectural treasures). The Village buildings, especially in their current scruffy state, are not at that level, but they do have some interesting qualities.
They vary in number of stories and in surface treatments. But all are in a modernist vocabulary common to the 1950s and early 1960s. Some of the buildings display their original pastel colors. Some are topped by impressive round constructions--ventilation systems, perhaps--that emphasize the rationalist, geometric character of the buildings. Most if not all of the buildings are raised one story above ground, probably to give the Village a greater sense of integration and community and to prevent the buildings from becoming barriers to communication between the different nationalities encamped there. The great American decathlon athlete, Rafer Johnson, was among those who found another benefit; on a Sunday before his event, he was seen relaxing in a lounge chair in the cool air under one of the structures, listening to jazz on a portable radio while clearing his mind for the rigors of competition. Besides the dormitories, the Village had shops, restaurants and sidewalk cafes, a bank, recreation rooms, a cafeteria (maybe more than one), an outdoor movie theater, and a dance floor, crowded every evening. As you travel the Village, you may find some compelling statues (see photo) that don't seem to fit the period. You're right. They are of 1911 vintage, and were moved to their current locations when an older stadium was demolished.

Among the self-made celebrities at the Olympic Village was a young Cassius Clay.
But Clay was not yet famous. The gold medal he would win in Rome would be his springboard to success. Even so, Clay made a reputation in the Village and elsewhere, "always preaching," "always talking," as an American diver put it. In the photo at right, taken in the Village, he's in the center, with two other American boxers who won gold medals. In his delightful book on the Rome Olympics, Rome 1960, David Maraniss tells the story of a naive and thirsty Clay, drinking from the water fountain in his suite, unaware that it was a bidet.

There are more stories to be told. But it is time to leave the Olympic Village. Our next stop is across the river. To get there, find your way back to the Palazetto dello Sport. From its northerly side, cross via Flaminia through Piazza dei Carracci (you'll find a nice cafe and a comfortable wine bar in the piazza), down via Massaccio, via Poletti, and via Brunelleschi (in the US they would be the same street), and across the Tevere on Ponte Duca d'Aosta.

There, in front of you, you'll see a white marble obelisk, or you won't because it's probably still covered for refurbishing. The words "Mussolini Dux," inscribed into it, were in 1960 an embarassing reminder of the Italy's infatuation with the Duce, and some were inclined to tear the thing down. It remained. Beyond the obelisk, there isn't much that isn't straight out of Fascism, and it was all there for the games. Taking care to avoid future Olympians practicing on their skateboards, continue up the viale del Foro Italico, replete with reminders of Fascist imperial adventures. At the end, move through the piazzale to the Stadio di Marmi beyond, rimmed by 60 marble (marmo) statutes inspired by Fascist ideals of youth, strength and beauty. Some field hockey matches were held here, and the Stadio was also used by track and field athletes as they warmed up or just tried to stay relaxed while awaiting their events at the big stadium beyond.

You can't miss the Stadio Olimpico, just to the west. It was there that the elegant and popular sprinter Wilma Rudolph would win gold at 100 and 200 meters. It was there that Livio Berutti (200 meters), Peter Snell (800 meters), Herb Elliott (1500 meters), Lee Calhoun (high hurdles), Ralph Boston (broad jump), and Al Oerter (discus) won gold (if you're over 60, you'll know some of these names). Rafer Johnson won gold in the decathlon there, too, but it may be of more significance that during the opening ceremonies for the games, Johnson entered Stadio Olimpico as the first black athlete to represent his team--and the United States--by carrying the American flag.

As we explain in Rome the Second Time, the Stadio Olimpico that you see here, while visually interesting, isn't what was there in 1960, though the site is the same. The original stadium was built in the 1930s, under Fascism. In order to prevent the stadium from obscuring the view of Monte Mario, much of the seating was below ground level. The stadium was modified for the Olympic games and again more recently, when the Monte Mario issue was eclipsed by other needs. A photo of the opening ceremonies, featuring Johnson carrying the flag, shows that whatever modifications were made to the stadium for the games, the recast structure did not yet obscure the mountain.

That's enough for one day. But we can't resist recommending one more site, very close by: the main pool in the Foro Italico. It's in one of those red buildings along the Tevere (the side you're on), and you should be able to walk in and have a look at the fetching 1930s mosaics by Gino Severini, Angelo Canevari, and other great artists (see our July 19, 2009 blog).

Bill

Hamlet in the Weeds: Rediscovering Italian Sculptor Amleto Cataldi

"The wrestlers" in Viale Unione Sovietica - that's the
Olympic Village apartments in back

Stumbling across underappreciated art is always fun, per RST.  We almost literally stumbled across Amleto ("Hamlet" in English) Cataldi's gorgeous "athletes" because they are now strewn in odd and spread out places in the vicinity of the 1960s Olympic Village in the Flaminio quarter of Rome - itself a burgeoning art scene (the new Hadid MAXXI and Piano's Parco della Musica are nearby - all of these are on the itineraries in our new book: Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler; more information below).



At first, a single sculpture was all we knew existed.  A friend and I ran into it when we were walking back from the "supermercato" to our not-so-close apartment one day.  The idea of sculptures of athletes in what was the Olympic Village for the competitors in the 1960 Olympics made sense.  But these sculptures seemed of an earlier period, and so they are.

"The runners" in 2008 before
the most recent restoration

"The runners" in 2012, after restoration - find them at the
SE corner of XVII Olimpiade and via Germania
(1/2 block east of  Corso Francia)

Tracking them down, much later, we found they originally were commissioned to stand on 4 large columns when, in 1927, architect Marcello Piacentini, one of Fascism's great architects, spruced up the 1911 Flaminio Stadium.  You may be able to spot them towards the end of Vittorio DeSica's neorealist masterpiece, The Bicycle Thief, which features a soccer match crowd letting out at that stadium.  Four of Cataldi's sculptures were the artistic hallmarks of the main entrance to the stadium.  But the stadium was torn down in 1957 to make way for the new Olympic facilities (including a new Flaminio stadium and the Palazetto dello Sport - which Bill has waxed eloquent about in a prior post).  But the statues didn't make an easy trip to Olympic Village. They apparently were carelessly toppled in 1957, damaged, and consigned to warehouses.  In the 1960s, after the Olympics were over, a journalist living in the Olympic Village tracked them down and had them repaired and installed in various grassy areas near and around the Village.  They then were not taken care of and apparently his daughter began a campaign to have them restored once again.  Sometimes when we've seen them, they simply stand amidst weeds.  They did look better the last time we saw some of them.  But there still are no plaques marking the sculptor or any history.  So just go find them and enjoy them.  And, speaking of finding them.  We located two (see photo captions).  We'd be happy for someone to locate the other two.

Saluting the "Tax Man"

We also didn't know at the time we stumbled across these fine giant athletes that the same architect, Cataldi, designed and sculpted the statues on the monument (right) on one of RST's itineraries, and featured in the book.  What we call there a "monument to the tax man" - a monument to the fallen of the Guardia della Finanza, is in Largo  XXI Aprile near Piazza Bologna.  That monument was unveiled in December 1930 (by Il Duce himself), shortly after Cataldi's death.

A "ciociara" type of sculpture by
Cataldi similar to the one that
is the subject of a repatriation
attempt by some Italians

Cataldi is described by some as a forgotten sculptor of the early 20th century.  Most Romans seem to know nothing about his public sculptures, and he was primarily a sculptor of public monuments, in large part monuments commemorating World War I dead. But his sculptures seem to fetch high prices at auction, even today.  One Italian was making an appeal that a sculpture of Cataldi's, set for auction in New York City, was such a national treasure that it should be returned to Italy.

Because his art nouveau lines appeal to us, we will continue our search for Cataldi's sculptures, even though, forgotten as they are, we still can't afford to take one home with us.

Dianne

Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious features the "garden" suburb of Garbatella; the 20th-century suburb of EUR, designed by the Fascists; the 21st-century music and art center of Flaminio (as noted above), along with Mussolini's Foro Italico, also the site of the 1960 summer Olympics; and a stairways walk in classic Trastevere. 

This 4-walk book is available in all print and eBook formats The eBook is $1.99 through amazon.com and all other eBook sellers.  See the various formats at smashwords.com. 

Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler now is also available in print, at amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, independent bookstores,  and other retailers; retail price $5.99.

RST Top 40. #34: a Fascist Era Post Office

Two of Rome's masterpieces of architectural geometry are located within a stone's throw, across the street from each other in via Marmorata, at the intersection of the Aventino and Testaccio districts. One is the ancient Piramide Cestia (the Cestia Piramid). The other is the neighborhood post office, a modernist gem designed by architects Adalberto Libera and Mario De Renzi and opened to acclaim in 1935, with Mussolini presiding (see photo above). Architectural scholars Mirella Duca and Filippo Muraia describe the building's elegant interior as "one of the most original spaces constructed in Rome in the 1930s." The via Marmorata post office is on Itinerary 4 in Rome the Second Time.

Libera was only 30 years old when he began working on the project, though he was already well known as a founder of the Movimento Italiano per L'Architettura Razionale (Italian Movement for Rationalist Architecture) and feted for his facade for the monumental Exhibition of the Fascist Revolution (photo at right), which opened in 1932 in the Palazzo delle Esposizioni, also a collaborative effort with De Renzi.

Though apparently not a zealous Fascist, Libera's close links with Fascist Party officials allowed him to compete for the regime's choice commissions, including the Palazzo dei Congressi, which he designed for the EUR complex. One of Libera's last works, accomplished with several other architects, was the Olympic Village (see photo at right), which housed athletes competing in the 1960 Rome games (including boxer Cassius Clay, who was seen taking photos of the complex). It is located in the Flaminio district, not far from Parco della Musica.

De Renzi's first commission, for the enormous 1931 Palazzo Federici apartment complex on via Aprile XXI, near Piazza Bologna, has also become one of his best known; it was the setting for Ettore Scola's 1977 film Una Giornata Particolare (A Special Day), starring Marcello Mastroianni and Sophia Loren in a drama set in Fascist Rome in 1938. The building is on Itinerary 8 in Rome the Second Time.

Bill