Shared Houses Make Bad Neighbors: Paint Jobs on the via Casilina

We were waiting in the hot sun for the Trenino that runs along via Casilina, when we saw something that made us wonder how people manage to get along. Across Casilina, in Pigneto, were some substantial palazzi, each with a new paint job. 

Except...except only half of each villa had been newly painted. The other half remained as it was--a trifle shabby. Obviously, the establishments were shared--half owned by one proprietor, half by another. The proprietor who wanted to paint his half wouldn't paint the other half for free, and the other proprietor--one imagines--wouldn't come up with the money, either. Or maybe he, or she, decided that with all the graffiti on the lower floor, it didn't much matter.  

Here's the result:

Bill 

P.S. We found a house in Catford, UK, that's even more "divided." 

The Auto Repair Garages of Rome

While walking in Rome, don't neglect the garages--the places where Romans get their cars and scooters repaired, or washed. Unlike many businesses, they are usually open to public view from the street. And they are in a variety of ways revealing--revealing of the interests and inclinations of the proprietors, who are invariably men. (We've seen a lot of women doing physical work in Rome--sweeping the streets, collecting garbage, delivering mail--but we have yet to see a female mechanic.)

Rome's a soccer town, and city-center Romans tend to be fans of the AS Roma team. 

Lots of AS Roma stuff, and a shout-out to the military, at left.

More sedate. Just a Totti jersey. Tools organized.

Sometimes you have to wonder how the mechanic can find anything. Not sure I would take my car here (below).

Garages represent the last bastion of sexism. Pin-ups are less common than they were, say, 20 years ago, but they're still around, here and there (far left and elsewhere in the photo below). This garage in the photo below (taken in 2018) is in Tiburtina. [And see the garage pin-ups Bill discovered in 2012 at the end of this post.]

Very organized, clean, highly decorated. 

Scooter repair shops often have a more subdued vibe:

This gommista (tire place) was closed when we went by, but the seranda was "revealing." 

Another tire place had created a waiting area for customers. Very "Los Angeles" we thought. 

It's not uncommon for auto repairs shops to do much of the work on the street. One could quibble about the use of "public property," but the activity is fun to watch. 

Steps from Piazza dei Re di Roma

This garage is interesting because of its location. It's cut into the Aurelian wall, in San Lorenzo. We saw it first on one of our "Wall Walks" in 2014, written up here.

And this garage is interesting because of what's inside and for sale: a 1965 1500L Fiat.  

We'll close with a couple of car-wash places. The first is an Auto Lavaggio a Mano--a hand car wash, probably do-it-yourself (fai da te). The attraction here is a large picture of Jesus (and a smaller one upper right, not too prominent).   

Christian car wash

And finally, from avant-garde Pigneto, a suggestion of who might be washing your car (as long as it's a Mercedes).

Bill (who else?)

A PS - In 2012, we found a set of pinups in a garage, and Bill declared it was the only one he had found to that point.  His post titled "Garage Art: the Pinup in Rome" is here.

ELFO in Rome

 

As those who follow Rome the Second Time may know, the administrators of the website are keen observers of Rome's WALLS.  Over the years, we have learned a great deal about the city's politics, about its heroes and villains, its neo-fascists and do-gooders, its martyrs and activists.  

And so, when we landed in the neighborhood of Pigneto in the spring of 2019, we were pleased to find an area dense with posters, graffiti, wall art and wall writing. Much of what we found was familiar.  But not the word ELFO, which appeared in several places, sometimes simply as "ELFO," but also as "ELFO AMOK" and "ELFO AMOK/LF.LF."  A mystery to be sure: possibly the initials of a local activist, or those of an anti-fascist martyred in the "Anni di Piombo," the "Years of Lead," a reference to a decade of ideological conflict and violence, assassination and murder, that began in the 1970s. Another layer of Rome's political onion, peeled away.  

Alas, none of that proved to be true. As we later learned, ELFO (which means "elf," a mythical being), refers to the animated television series "Disenchantment," written and produced by Matt Groening (best known for "The Simpsons," whose characters also appear on Rome walls), which premiered on Netflix in August, 2018--just in time to inspire the person or persons who chose to celebrate it on Pigneto's walls.  

It's in the genre of medieval fantasy, and it's set in the kingdom of Dreamland. As far as I know, it has nothing to do with Rome.  Sorry about that. 

Bill 

Ex Snia lake: industrial detritus meets nature

Wandering around our "new" neighborhood of Pigneto on one of our past stays in Rome, we came across a strange self-managed lake. Yes, lake. The largest lake in the city, surpassing even the one in Villa Borghese, and much less visited. One sign said the site was the Hadrian's Villa of industrial archeology--quite a title to live up to.

At the bottom: "La Villa Adriana dell'archeologia industriale"

We talked to a man who was tending the gardens, part of the extensive landscape surrounding the lake, and he explained the self-management to us. We read later that the Senegalese community maintains the regular opening and closing of the entire park-like area.

A view of the long-gone industrial factory; that's our Pigneto neighborhood, morphing into Prenestina,
 in back.

The lake derives from a construction error. The property was once a manufacturing facility for viscose, a type of rayon fiber made from natural sources.  When it opened in 1922, it was one of the largest plants in Italy, employing more than 2,000 workers at its peak. The facility was bombed in World War II (the fiber was used in military uniforms) and, after its employment dropped from over 1600 in 1949 to just over 100 in 1953, it closed. (No lake yet.)  The site then became one of speculation for developers, who began construction in 1992. They unexpectedly hit an underground stream, the Marranella, and the property filled up. The developers were unable to contain the underground aquifer and their construction permits--apparently with irregularities--were revoked.

Entrance, complete with mural and opening times (not the current ones).

SNIA was the name of the chemical company that owned the plant. Oddly, the initials stand for Societa' di Navigazione Italo Americana, because the company originally was involved in US-Italy maritime trade. Thus, the lake and the area are known as "ex Snia" - the former SNIA.

In the past decade, especially, the community has taken over the property, establishing playgrounds, camps for kids, and other recreational and didactic activities. They've worked diligently to keep the property out of the hands of developers. They call the site Monumento Naturale Parco delle Energie - Lago Bullicante ("The Natural Monument of the Energy Park of Bullicante Lake"). "Bullicante" comes from Acqua Bullicante, the name of the street that runs along one side of the area and perhaps another name for the Marranella stream or a village that once was in the locale. Whether the community will be successful in keeping developers' hands off this property is yet to be seen.

Rules and regulations at right. And some assertions: "This is a place liberated from profit and from building speculation, thanks to the participation and the struggle of everyone. It is a place that lives from self-management, self-financing, and solidarity."  Among the prohibitions: swimming or boating on the lake.  Among the "Not prohibited" activities: playing ball, shouting with joy.



In these strange times, the lake is open again, regularly. The FaceBook site says they are missing only the signature of the president of the province of Lazio to make their "natural monument" a legal reality.

We found the area surprisingly lovely, partly because we are enamored of industrial detritus. And Bill can find some raw material for his "found art." The interplay of the abandoned and derelict buildings with natural beauty is lovely. We returned several times, and plan to do so again--assuming the developers are held at bay.

Here's their Web site, and slogan: "A lake for everyone; cement for no one."

Dianne

Rome's Urban Countryside: a Walk from Pigneto to Centocelle

Rome's more open today than it was just a few weeks ago, so it may be possible to actually walk the walk that we took about a year ago.  If not, maybe in the fall. [This post was first published in April, but we took it down after a few days as events compelled us to write about "Liberation Day" and then the loss of Frederika Randall. We bring it back for the rest of its 10-day or so 'run.']

Rome isn't a mega-city (pop. about 2,800,000), and it sprawls.  One result is that there are surprising swaths of countryside remarkably close to the urban core--and even within it.  One minute you're on an urban thoroughfare, busy with commerce and residences; turn the corner and you're walking on what feels--and is, in some respects--a country road. Then, further on, more urban Rome, in the shape of a phalanx of modern apartment buildings.

We found an example of "country Rome" on a walk from Pigneto, a dense, hip, immigrant neighborhood on the northeast of the urban core, to Centocelle, a suburb further to the east.  We'll pick up our walk on via Acqua Bullicante, a north/south street packed with shops. Imagine you're walking straight south, about halfway between via Prenestina (to the north) and via Casilina (to the south).

On the left side of the street, facing an Esso gas station, note the mural by Atoche (above), a prominent area street artist, whose studio is in Pigneto.  Then, not far ahead, the Supermercato Il Castoro, with a country remnant--an Olive tree--in the front courtyard.

Immediately beyond the supermarket, turn left on via Forma--our "country road."  For the next mile or so, you'll have to be careful as you walk. There's a good deal of traffic, and--typical of the countryside--NO SIDEWALKS.

 Right away, some interesting buildings, including one with some neo-medieval touches.

It seems likely that via Forma once traversed small farms and orchards. A few still survive, now joined by small industrial/commercial sites.

After about a half mile on via Forma, turn right at the "T"--onto via Cori. A few hundred yards ahead, in Piazza Sessa Aurunea, note the Carpe Diem Bar (on your right) and a functioning crossroads nasone, if you haven't brought water.

Turn left (east) just before the fountain, onto via Labico.  More country road. Again, no sidewalks for about a half mile. Lots of traffic. Note an abandoned sculpture park in the weeds on the right.

On the left, a ways down, an old factory with a rusted green gate.

Bill took one of his "found art" photos here (which he later printed at 17 X 22 inches--looks great!)

Continue on until the road forks and there's a huge apartment complex ahead.

The "country" part of the walk is over.  We like exploring the architecture of such apartment complexes, and we went into this one through a nearby gate, coming out the other side on a road.

Make your way to the NEXT street, to the east, via Francesco Ferraironi, and turn right (south).  Follow this street until it curves right onto via Oberdan Petrini. You've got one more block to viale della Primavera.  From that street, head straight east, working your way through the 'hood, to the main drag of Centocelle (which in 2010, Bill called Rome's New Rochelle): via dei Castani (below).

 Then just a bit south to the large piazza that houses the church of San Felice da Cantalice.

On that same piazza, across the street from the church, there's a bar/cafe with outdoor space.  If you're inclined--and the place is open--have a coffee or a glass of wine and contemplate your journey through the Roman countryside.

Just a couple of blocks to the west and a bit south, you'll find the via Casilina tram. If you don't mind being on public transport, it should be operating, as of this writing, at 50% capacity and you must wear a mask. The tram will take you back to Pigneto.

Bill

Women with Guns: Rome's New Feminism

Saudi Arabia has just labeled feminism, along with homosexuality and something else I can't recall, an "extremism."  Having survived the American 1970s as a male, I can see their point. I was forced to learn to cook!

But that was almost 50 years ago, and I wasn't prepared for the hostile, militant feminism I found on the walls of Rome in the Spring of 2019.  I should qualify the "walls of Rome" reference in the last sentence.  Most of the aggressive feminist images and slogans I found were not in "Rome," as if they were everywhere in Rome, but in certain areas of the city--especially Pigneto, but a few other places as well.

Here we go.

You may have seen this one; it's been on the RST Facebook site.  "Monogamy is the New Fascism." It's in English, so maybe it doesn't count.

This one's a stencil.  While the message seems aggressive, it's also sensible:  "Neither forced maternity nor imposed sterility."

The next one's more obviously aggressive, yet it's also vague about what it's advocating:  "We're multiplying the feminist rage."  Followed by the standard feminist symbol - in triplicate.

"Addio al patriarcato"--a reasonable translation would be "Goodbye Patriarchy."  Who could disagree with that?  The symbol here combines feminism with anarchy.  Anarcho-Feminism.

Below: "Complicit with the women who resist and kill the aggressors." That's strong.

Now we're into visuals.  Many of these fall into the "women with..." category.

As in, below, "Woman with a Drill" (and small wrench).  One could think of this as something like Rosie the Riveter, or....?    From Ostiense.

Below, a piece of wall art.  I tried to translate "Tommy gani [or cani?] sciorti" and could not.  This is "woman with dagger as hand":

Then there's "woman with dynamite" (upper poster):

And "women with guns."  Four of the figures in the poster below are women, and three of them have guns. The rally of the New Resistances was to take place in Casal Bertone--a community just north of Pigneto.

The following poster invokes the Partisans of the 1940s, and in that sense the woman with a gun is justified.  But it also says "oggi antifascisti" (today [we are] antifascists]), and it's not so clear that anti-fascism requires women (or anyone) carrying weapons:

This poster announces a "sciopero globale transfeminista"--"a global strike of transfeminists," I guess.  The woman is masked and ready for street combat.

Two more.  The first one, below, was found in Pigneto and starts with "Gender violence also involves (or concerns) you." "La Casa delle Donne Lucha y Siesta" ("Women's House - Fight and Nap") is a self-run women's organization fighting violence against women, located in the Tuscolano quartiere. Again, the image has a Rosie-the- Riveter quality, but it's more aggressive than welcoming.

And finally, from Ostiense. Here, less aggressive than anxious? (For more on the F word in Rome, see here.)

Bill
Author of "Patty's Got a Gun: Patricia Hearst in 1970s America."