The Museum of stone and concrete. Reptilian urban relics.

"Reptilian",...the first thing I thought of when I looked at that concrete bit with shapes was the monumental architecture of Mesoamerica. (They were big on serpents and things like that.) I like the contrast/juxtaposition of that piece with the tall, Modernist building on the left.
 
"Reptilian",...the first thing I thought of when I looked at that concrete bit with shapes was the monumental architecture of Mesoamerica. (They were big on serpents and things like that.) I like the contrast/juxtaposition of that piece with the tall, Modernist building on the left.

Thank you, Brian!

Now the boring details...
This photo was taken a very few days ago, in that little square where I also shot the crocheted covered tree and where some kids approached me thinking I was photographing them. No, I was studying the shapes of the city, this "museum of stones and concrete", history and art. The tall building in the background was built between 1959 and 1961 and was a collaboration of architects, the most prominent of them being Renato Iscra. Here we call it "skyscraper" because it's the tallest building in the city (but it has actually only 15 stories). I like the geometry of its windows and its overall detailed elegance. On the right in the photo, on the other hand, is a detail of a long balcony surrounding another building from those same years whose parapet has these modular sculptures molded in white concrete (I think), the work of sculptor Gianni Strazzabosco. Its snout juts out to challenge the skyscraper like the snout of a dinosaur in a paleontology museum.
 
Thank you, Brian!

Now the boring details...
This photo was taken a very few days ago, in that little square where I also shot the crocheted covered tree and where some kids approached me thinking I was photographing them. No, I was studying the shapes of the city, this "museum of stones and concrete", history and art. The tall building in the background was built between 1959 and 1961 and was a collaboration of architects, the most prominent of them being Renato Iscra. Here we call it "skyscraper" because it's the tallest building in the city (but it has actually only 15 stories). I like the geometry of its windows and its overall detailed elegance. On the right in the photo, on the other hand, is a detail of a long balcony surrounding another building from those same years whose parapet has these modular sculptures molded in white concrete (I think), the work of sculptor Gianni Strazzabosco. Its snout juts out to challenge the skyscraper like the snout of a dinosaur in a paleontology museum.
Some fine details there, Gianluca. Thank you.
 
These buildings are the same age as me (1959) but I never thought of myself as Modernist, but I suppose we all are. I’m always in two minds with this kind of architecture. When done well, it is fascinating, when not done well, it is unfortunately all too common.

Between the two buildings I see some landscaping. This always slightly amuses me. The Barbican Centre is a large Brutalist housing scheme in London, one of the best of its kind, and I have enjoyed walking around it. Despite the wishes of the architects, the locals have plants and flowers almost everywhere - at least when I visited some years back - to soften the brutalist features. And the water troughs have dried out, and nature’s fightback has begun in the form of weeds. I’m on nature’s side in this battle, despite appreciating the thoughts that went into the planning of such buildings.

Wonderful photo, Gianluca, which has encouraged contemplation - something all good photography does.
 
These buildings are the same age as me (1959) but I never thought of myself as Modernist, but I suppose we all are. I’m always in two minds with this kind of architecture. When done well, it is fascinating, when not done well, it is unfortunately all too common.

Between the two buildings I see some landscaping. This always slightly amuses me. The Barbican Centre is a large Brutalist housing scheme in London, one of the best of its kind, and I have enjoyed walking around it. Despite the wishes of the architects, the locals have plants and flowers almost everywhere - at least when I visited some years back - to soften the brutalist features. And the water troughs have dried out, and nature’s fightback has begun in the form of weeds. I’m on nature’s side in this battle, despite appreciating the thoughts that went into the planning of such buildings.

Wonderful photo, Gianluca, which has encouraged contemplation - something all good photography does.


There are some clichés that irritate me a little. I have spent more than half of my life in the defense of the natural environment, but I have always understood the defense of the environment in a concept that also included the history of humans. The contrast between nature and culture usually plays into the hands of building speculators: a place where nature takes back its spaces at the expense of concrete is the ideal place on which to build more concrete. That same neighborhood where I took this photo is proof of this; before there was a popular neighborhood full of mills and tanneries of poor people and wild grasses that invaded the streets. This was enough at the time to raze an entire neighborhood to the ground and wreak havoc on history. And today, here, in our century, the same thing is happening.
 
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There are some clichés that irritate me a little. I have spent more than half of my life in the defense of the natural environment, but I have always understood the defense of the environment in a concept that also included the history of humans. The contrast between nature and culture usually plays into the hands of building speculators: a place where nature takes back its spaces at the expense of concrete is the ideal place on which to build more concrete. That same neighborhood where I took this photo is proof of this; before there was a popular neighborhood full of mills and tanneries of poor people and wild grasses that invaded the streets. This was enough at the time to raze an entire neighborhood to the ground and wreak havoc on history. And today, here, in our century, the same thing is happening.
Interesting. Thoughtful.
 
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