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

Metro C: A Great Idea with Human Costs

Rome desperately needs more underground transportation, and the city is making an effort to provide it.  The current project is Metro C, designed to connect Rome's eastern suburbs with the central city, and to connect stations along its 18 km route to existing lines A and B.  Stations on the eastern part of the C line have been completed and are operational; we've walked that route and shown our readers some of the new stations and neighborhoods they serve.

The inner-city section, where the all-important connections with other lines will be made, is under construction.  When completed, there will be a new Amba Aradam station at Porta Metronia, serving a large and heavily populated neighborhood (one of our favorite places to live) to the south and east of the Coliseum, with completion to the Colosseo station and Metro B.  The C line will also connect with Metro A at San Giovanni.  The completion date for these connections is 2022.  And there may be a station under Piazza Venezia, if it proves possible to do the work without destruction of too much Roman heritage.

The plan sketched above seems reasonable, and we're looking forward to riding the fully-automated line, assuming we live that long.  In the meantime, those who live near or adjacent to the construction route face years of irritation and disruption: noise, of course, and traffic problems caused by re-routing, but more important, hundreds of yards of tall metal Metro fencing, sometimes within a few feet of apartment buildings that not so long ago were adjacent to small parks, a tennis club, a soccer field, and a portion of a Roman wall.  In short, Metro C has its human costs.  That said, when the work is completed, residents of adjacent areas will have some of the best Metro connections in the city.

A few months ago we toured the construction zone near Porta Metronia. The tour begins at the porta and runs southeast down via Ipponio, turns left at a nameless, curving street just beyond via dei Laterani, and left again on via della Ferratella in Laterano.  Here we go.
Bill

From Porta Metronia

Down via Ipponio.  A tennis club at left escaped the construction--for now.

Inside the yellow walls

Yellow walls outside your door.  Trees inside and outside the construction zone.

Turn left here for the hospital and the church. Sure. 

Looking back.  Pedestrian crossing.

This one's particularly depressing.  

This used to be a nice street to walk on, to a supermarket.  

Eugene Debs, the American socialist labor leader?

Headed back toward Porta Metronia.  The sign says the parking spaces are reserved for motorcyles (and scooters, no doubt). Romans are adept at marking things off with tape. 

There's a Roman wall on the other side of the yellow wall.  

One of the pleasures of a walk like this is reading the posters.  This one says Dino, hands in the air, was shot and killed by
a police officer.  

A small park, largely intact despite the construction, close to Porta Metronia, where we began.

Boccea: Just a Roman Neighborhood

Via di Boccea, looking east from a bus stop. 

1961 Church

We had arranged to have lunch with a friend, in her neighborhood, a second-tier "suburb" to Rome's northeast, beyond the Vatican.  Boccea, it's called, after its main street, Via di Boccea, which runs east of the Cornelia Metro stop on the "A" line.  

We had arrived by scooter with about 45 minutes to spare, just enough time to get a sense of the area.  What we found was "just" a Roman neighborhood: teeming with shoppers and workers, touched by the marks of recent history, graced by one of Rome's finest parks,  brightened by color and creativity.

Lady Bar

Boccea is one of Rome's newer neighborhoods.  We found a bar, Bar Molini, dating to 1952 and, nearby, a church--probably the first to be built in the quartiere--constructed in 1961 (above left).  So it seems Boccea had its origins in Rome's postwar "boom."  We don't know the age of Lady Bar (right), but we liked the name, and the concept.  Looks like the clientele is mostly pregnant. 

Pet supplies

Among the dozens of shops that line Via di Boccea and the side streets to the north, we noticed a pet supply store with its  carriers and beds arranged along a broad sidewalk

A line of new bicycles added color to the streetscape. 

Meat Handler

And a macelleria (meat market), receiving its supply of meat from a couple of guys in blood-colored garb. 

Hip Vespa

A bicycle with an old-fashioned basket (it could have belonged to Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz) and--a real prize--an old but still functional Vespa, decorated in the pointillism style of Seurat.

Curious building

In the triangle formed by Via di Boccea and Via della Pineta Sacchetti, we discovered an open air market and, just across the latter street, an unusual building, perhaps the inspiration for the bulbous forms of Parco della Musica. 

Parco del Pineto

We were near Parco del Pineto (Park of the Pine Grove), the one landmark familiar to us from an earlier visit, and we couldn't resist admiring the tall pini (Rome's distinctive "umbrella" pine trees) that govern its southwestern approach.   To the north, along a path that skirts Forte Braschi (a functioning military installation), you'll find some high-grade graffiti.  And in the valley below the pines...well, more adventures to be had (we describe our own journey through this park in Rome the Second Time, Itinerary 11). 

Just a Roman neigborhood.
Bill

Torpignattara: Neighborhood on the Verge of....

We were intrigued by Laura Serloni's story in La Repubblica on the outlying neighborhood of Torpignattara, which lies east of the train station and the closer-in, now-hip community of Pigneto. The headline for the piece described Torpignattara as "dimenticata" (forgotten), and Serloni's story labeled its outdoor market "degrado" (degraded) and mentioned that the zone had no parks and that its 1930s movie theater (the only one in the area) was in disrepair, having long ago closed its doors.

We had been through the neighborhood many times, but only on the thoroughfare of via Casilina (the cross-street at top left), with a tram running through its center that cramps traffic in both directions. Until now, Torpignattara was for us a neighborhood to get through on our way to the campagna Romana.

So we went out there and walked around. We found the boarded-up movie theatre--perhaps no gem even when new--and ambled through the metal-shed market, which at 12:45 (some of the stands may have closed up, and the fish stands don't operate on Thursday) was occupied only here and there.
But we would add that older markets of this kind often have a forlorn appearance--one might as well use the words "rustic," or "authentic," or "comfortable"--and otherwise petty capitalism seemed to be thriving in this 'hood, sustained on some streets (e.g., via della Marranella) by communities of dark-skinned new immigrants, whose place of origin we failed to identify.

Although the oldest buildings in the neighborhood appear to date from about 1900, Torpignattara's architectural plant is also sustained by a number of structures built, like the theatre, in the 1930s, and datable by dates on the buildings,
sometimes presented in the Fascist system, which starts with 1922, the year of the March on Rome. Some of these buildings could use plastering and a coat of paint, but others have been nicely redone. The school at the corner of via dell' Acqua Bullicante and via Policastro has the solid, decent design of Fascist-era rationalist architecture.

The area will also benefit from the new "C" Metro line, now being built just a few blocks to the north under via Maletesta, once a lovely parkway but now a massive cantieri (construction project). The new Metro line is actually in Labicano, but it will provide reliable transportation to most of Torpignattara's residents. And given that, it may not be all that long before the word "gentrification" rears its ugly head and those nasty wine bars appear (there are none now).
We found what may be the early signs of that sort of redevelopment along the alley-like street of via Auconi, where smaller homes are being renovated (right).

We did find one small, usable, functioning park, off via del Pigneto at via dei Zeno (if we recall correctly).
It was being mowed, apparently for the first time this year (below right), with an actual power lawn mower (one of several in Rome; they are as rare here as Velveeta).

The problem with the parks, we think, is related to the city's program of underground parking lots. Once built, the lots are supposed to have parks at ground level.

But one of these parks (below left)had gone to tall, unmowable weeds, as if the city had been preparing the site for drug traffic and crime. In the circular entrance to that park's underground garage someone had fashioned a creche out of concrete, perhaps to offer comfort to those intrepid enough to use the facility (lower left).

The other, pictured in Serloni's article, had been fenced off. It would take an American neighborhood, with the help of the Lion's Club, about two weeks to have such a place up and running, with swing sets and redwood walkways and the like. But there is no Lion's club in Italy, and no tradition of voluteerism. And the government has failed to do anything but build the parking garages. Here it's all about cars.

Bill