Monte Sacro's ex-GIL

Monte Sacro's ex-GIL, 1935

If you've been a regular follower of the Rome the Second Time blog, or read the book, you might know what an ex-GIL is.  We've written more than 20 times about the most famous one in Rome (below), recently restored, that sits in Trastevere, not far from the river, next to Nanni Moretti's Nuovo Sacher cinema. (It's #10 on RST's Top 40, and the staircase is prominent on the post.)

Luigi Moretti's ex-GIL, as it was in the 1930s

Here's a reminder: the "ex" stands for "former," and GIL for Gioventu' Italiana del Littorio (Italian Youth of the Lictor [the lictors were bodyguards for Roman magistrates], founded 1937)--essentially a center for indoctrination of young people under the auspices of the Fascist Party.  It replaced a similar organization, the Opera Nazionale Balilla (ONB).  The ex-GIL in Trastevere is a lovely piece of rationalist architecture by famed modernist Luigi Moretti (in the U.S., he's best known for the Watergate complex), and is well worth visiting, if only for a look at the exterior.  The circular staircase, back left of the building, is superb--and usually accessible.

Now that we have that out of the way, we can get to the good stuff.  It turns out there's another ex-GIL, further from the center.  The address is viale Adriatico 140, in the community of Monte Sacro, on the northern edge of the central city, up via Nomentana.  The exterior of the Monte Sacro ex-GIL (sometimes referred to as the Casa di Montesacro) isn't as dramatic as the one in Trastevere, but it's still compelling, its facade covered in thin (2 cm) Carrara marble.  And the scope of the facility goes beyond its Trastevere equivalent; the complex once included sports fields, gardens, a girls' school offering courses in domestic economics, a theater (since demolished), an "ambulatorio" and a "refettorio," an institute for GIL instructors, as well as Italy's largest gymnasium and swimming pools, one inside (coperta), the other outside (scoperta--uncovered).

So it was a big deal when it was opened in 1937, and it's still quite something.

The Casa di Monte Sacro was designed by Gaetano Minnucci (1896-1980), a graduate both in engineering (1920) and architecture (1930). Minnucci spent some time in Holland and brought some of that sensibility to Rome, where he applied it to the design of a building at via Carini, 28, below.

Minnucci's first project, via Carini, 28

He also was the lead architect on the Palazzo degli Uffici (1939), the first building to be finished in the EUR complex, south of the city (below).

His other works include the Policlinico Agostino Gemelli in Trionfale (Rome) and the central hydroelectric building in Castel Giubileo (Rome), both below.

With the fall of Fascism in 1943, the institute for GIL instructors was suspended and later closed.  Until the mid-1960s the GIL building was used primarily as a youth hostel.  During those years, the complex suffered from lack of maintenance and gradually deteriorated.  The theater was demolished to make way for a post office (altering parts of the facade), some offices for the local government (the commune) and a school.  Unused, the swimming pools fell into disrepair.  In 2013, the regional government (Lazio) provided some funding for restoration and brought the facility much needed public attention.

Still, much remains to be done, as we saw the day we visited, on a tour that was part of the two-day spring event, Open House Roma.

The large gymnasium, recently restored, was impressive; boys were playing basketball.

Outside, the entrance to the gymnasium:

Today, the covered pool is a disaster, a favorite of graffiti artists:

Out in back, one could see the damage wrought by time.  Here's what part of the back facade looked like in 1937:

And here it is today, the victim of a poor addition, and disrepair:

And then there's the outdoor pool, once a handsome affair with a high board, all with a modernist look and the Fascist slogan "Credere/Obbedire/Combattere" (believe/obey/fight) on the far wall:

And the pool complex today:

Because the building is in use as a Montessori school and post office, and for some local government offices, it's possible that one could just walk in and have a look around, or ask someone to show you the pool areas and the gymnasium.

But even if you can't get inside or out back, the exterior is an excellent example of Fascist rationalist architecture.

Moreover, the surrounding area is interesting and devoid of tourists.  Finally, there's a convivial bar/cafe' next door: coffee at neighborhood prices, and tables at no charge.  You could do worse.

Bill

The Station(s) at Tiburtina

The Tiburtina railroad station, the one near Piazza Bologna, was torn down about two years ago, and another took its place on November 28.  The old station was on Itinerary 7 in Rome the Second Time.  Not because it was of any architectural merit, but because it was the place where in October, 1943 over one thousand of Rome's Jews were put on sealed trains for shipment to Nazi concentration camps.  Seventeen returned.   Plaques on the station platform reminded travelers of that event of the massacre of more Jews, and other innocent people, by the Nazis at the Fosse Ardeatine.  The plaques are gone--at best consigned to some remote storage facility--and unlikely to reappear. 

The old station was small and crowded, and the new one should be a relief.  But the dominant impression is hardly one of comfort.  The new station is huge.  Almost comically so.  Like an aircraft carrier, or the hovering hunk of high-tech metal from outer space in the final scenes of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. 

Then, as one can see in the photo (right, center of photo), in July a fire consumed a portion of the new structure.  The authorities are still investigating (don't hold your breath). 

We'll have to wait to experience fully the new Tiburtina station.  But one part of the new building appealed to us: a colorful, angular box at the front of the station, positioned in playful contrast to the glowering mass behind it.  Almost as if the architect had had second thoughts and decided to include a day-care center. 

Back in our apartment, we were shocked to pick up one of our architecture books, Rationalism and Architecture in Italy during Fascism (a translation from the Italian) and see, on the cover, a design for a building--not identified elsewhere in the book---not unlike the fanciful cube at Tiburtina.  Had we not seen this drawing and seen it marked as an example of rationalism, we would have labeled it postmodern, if only for its complex window treatments, the use of the pink and blue (the colors of infancy), and the presentation of an unusual angularity that undermines a message of stark modernity.  While cut from the same cloth, the Tiburtina box goes a step further--and lifts our spirits.
Bill
[A reminder from Dianne - when itineraries need to change (e.g., because the station with its plaques is torn down), Updates are provided in an online document, and thru the ebook versions of Rome the Second Time.  Updates can be accessed with a click on the link on the blog at right, or right here.]

Fascism's Architectural Legacy: The Colonie di Vacanza



Camp "Fascismo Novarese," in Miraare di Rimini. 
Original photo by Dan Dubowitz, c. 2005

 In the 1930s and early 1940s, Mussolini's Fascist regime constructed 23 colonie di vacanza--literally vacation or holiday camps, but perhaps better translated as summer camps.  Reflecting the imperially-driven Fascist enthusiasm for the sea, only 2 camps were in mountain areas, while 21 were located on the Tyrrehenian Sea or the Adriatic, including several in Riccione, 2 in Tirrenia, 3 in Calabrone, and 3 in Marina di Massa.  The location of the camps also meant they were far removed from the families and communities of those who attended, and far removed, too, from the decaying small towns that threatened Fascism's efforts to present the country as progressive and modern.  Each of the camps housed between 450 and 900 young men. 



On the beach at the "Dalmine" camp, in Riccione

The camps were created under the auspices of la Gioventu Italiana dell' Littorio (the GIL, which translates as Italian Fascist Youth), and the campers were mostly Italian boys and young men between the ages of 9 and 20, mostly members of a variety of Fascist-organized youth groups, and the children of the urban poor were heavily represented.  The boys were there to be trained, hardened, and organized into young people loyal and committed to the Fascist cause: ready to "Credere, Obbedire, Combattere" (Believe, Obey, Fight).  As one might expect, there was much marching, flag-raising, and saluting; lots of sports, including gymnastics; and, of course, plenty of fresh air.  At least one camp had a small theater. 








The ramps at this camp helped create the Fascist spectacle.

 But there was also a fantastical element to camp life, meant to inspire and mesmerize.  Several of the camps featured large and elaborate open stairways (photo left).  At the "Fascismo Novarese" camp (900 beds) near Rimini, the stairway was a way of making the movement of the young men into a spectacle of Fascism.  At the "Costanzo Ciano" camp in Cervia, designed by Mario Loreti and built between 1937 and 1939, "the huge Piranesian ramps" (according to one authority) "today overgrown with fig trees, were intended for synchronized displays of marching Balilla"  (a Fascist youth organization).  Think of the Busby Berkeley films of the 1930s, the synchronized dancers helping Americans to believe in the idea of melding the individual into the group, the virtue of collective action, the body as a machine contributing to the greater good. 

A playful building at camp "Roberto Farinacci"

A young man attending the colonia "XXVIII Ottobre" (1932), in Rimini, a camp intended to house the male children of expatriate Italians, recalled another kind of summer camp magic:  "In the restaurant there were people dancing the tango in bathing suits, like in a Fellini film.  A marvelous world."   One imagines this young man impressed, too, as he approached the dormitories, which resembled locomotives and steamships.  On the most elemental level, it was expected that every camper would come away with enthusiasm for Fascism's boundless future, gleaned from living in specially designed buildings and spaces that captured Fascism's energy and dynamism.  A postcard for the "Ciano" camp, featuring a large triumphal arch, presents Fascism's imperial ambitions and its efforts to link the ambitious Italian nation with its imperial Roman heritage. 



A dormitory at the "Rosa Maltoni Mussolini"
camp, at Tirrenia, designed by Mazzoni.
Photo by Dan Dubowitz

Most of the camps were designed in a the rationalist style pioneered by the Bauhaus, and often by skilled and creative architects and engineers.  The camp "Rosa Maltoni Mussolini," at Tirrenia, near Pisa (1925-35) was designed by Angiolo Mazzoni, who also created the grand side aisles of Rome's Termini Station and the lovely towers to its rear.  The dormitories--even those dressed with Mazzoni-designed furniture--were stark and plain, perhaps reflecting Mussolini's revulsion at the materialism and acquisitiveness of Italy's bourgeoisie.


The typical stay was only 15 days, a tolerable period, one would imagine, no matter what the conditions.  Nonetheless, the disciplinary reputation of the camps led some parents to use attendance as a threat for misbehaving.  The phrase "ti mando in colonia" circulated widely: "behave, or I'll send you to camp." 


Camp "Vittorio Emanuele II"  (1934-38) in Calambrone.
Photo by Dan Dubowitz, c. 2005

 We first became aware of the colonie di vacanza (sometimes referred to as colonie di infanzia) in May, when we trekked to The British School of Rome, on via Antonio Gramsci, for a show of Dan Dubowitz photographs, "Fascismo Abbandonato," with commentary by Dubowitz and his co-worker, architect Patrick Duerden.  The extraordinary photographs reveal, and the title of the show--Fascism Abandoned--reflects, that most of the colonie structures have long been abandoned, many beyond hope of repair--and now, some occupied by squatters--an unfortunate end for distinguished modernist works of architecture.  (You can see more of Dubowitz's photos on this website.)   According to Dubowitz and Duerden, these buildings were abandoned soon after the war, primarily because of the fear that to restore and reuse buildings so deeply identified with Fascism might have contributed to its resurgence. 

Bill

RST Top 40. #35: The Gino Severini Mural at the Palazzo dei Congressi (EUR)

One day a few years ago we went out to EUR and to the Palazzo dei Congressi (the translation, Palace of the Congresses, sounds dumb), eager to see Massimiliano Fuksas's massive, avant-garde new hall (we thought), "Cloud." Once inside, we looked everywhere but the basement, even going up some stairways that were obviously not intended for the general public and poking around on the floors above. We were disappointed in not finding "Cloud" (we learned later that it did not yet exist), but more than pleased at what we did find: an enormous, didactic mural by Gino Severini, completed in 1953 (the same year the building itself opened) for the International Exhibition of the Federation of Agricultural Enterprises. We have included a view from the side (above left), sufficiently unrevealing that it shouldn't spoil your encounter with it. The mural employs a seasonal motif that Severini had first explored in the painting "L'Estate" (1951) [below right], part of the collection at the Museo Carlo Bilotti (a newer museum in the Villa Borghese - we recommend it).

Note Severini's murals, as well as the other EUR sites mentioned in this post, are on the EUR walk in our latest book, Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler.   See the end of this post for more information on the book.
 

Severini was no spring chicken when he did this mural (at 70, more like a winter chicken). He was born in Cortona, Italy and moved to Rome in 1899, at 16. As a young artist he was influenced by Futurism (he was a signer of the important 1910 Futurist Manifesto) and by Cubism, and, living in Paris, a good friend of Modigliani. The photo at left captures him on the scaffold, paintbrush in hand, working on the mural with artist Stefania Lotti. It was painted on Masonite (disclosure: my father was for a time Manager of Industrial Sales for the Masonite Corporation), often incorrectly referred to on Italian websites as Maronite.

Enjoy the mural. But don't miss having a good look at the splendid building in which it is housed. The Palazzo dei Congressi was one of many buildings planned for E42 (Exposition 1942), planned for the 20th anniversary of the March on Rome--the establishing moment of Italian Fascism. It has strong classical lines, as did many buildings of the Fascist era, but it also speaks to a modernist sensibility that was part of 20th-century culture all over the world, and which was deeply influential for many of the architects working under Fascism. Construction began in 1938, but the war intervened and delayed completion.

The building's architect was Adalberto Libera. In the late 1920s, Libera was one of the founders of the Italian Movement for Rational Architecture, based in Rome. He was influenced by both Futurism and Rationalism and maintained close ties with the Mussolini government--close enough, anyway, to get commissions and keep working. He also designed the superb post office on via Marmorata and was one of five architects who worked on designs for the Olympic Village (1960; a 5-minute walk from Parco della Musica in north Rome).

The Palazzo dei Congressi has many features, but none so obvious or original as that big cube in the middle, which houses the Salone dei Ricevimenti (Hall of Receptions, or Welcoming Hall). The cube is 38 meters on each side, big enough, as it is often said, to hold the Pantheon (though getting it there and inside would be daunting). The rounded top may have been necessary to bring the cube to Pantheon dimensions, but whatever its purpose, it's the Palazzo's signature feature.

To get there, take the Metro B line to the Fermi exit. When you walk out of the subway you'll be about 5 blocks south/southwest of the Palazzo. So walk north/northeast through EUR until you find the building.

Bill

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