top of page
sanrocco_05.jpg
An interview with Matteo Ghidoni

The following interview was recorded via ZOOM on September  10th, 2025. with the participation of Ștefan Simion and Irina Meliță.

Teaching

SS:      To begin, we’d like to situate the conversation in the present: where are you today, and how would you describe your practice and your teaching? And as a follow-up, how has the San Rocco experience shaped what you’re doing now and where you find yourself?

 

MG:    At the moment I am in Cambridge where I am staying for 45 days now to teach at MIT as first part of the semester. Then, I will go back to Italy, teach remotely and I will come back in November, December to finish the semester here until the final review. This is something I’ve been doing for three years. So, teaching in the US is my first experience of this kind. In Italy, I am currently teaching at Politecnico in Milano. All this teaching is not part of a structured academic career, I would say. Especially in Italy, that is some sort of a specialization — an academic career that doesn’t really fit the people who are practicing architecture at the moment, that’s how I feel — although some people manage to keep the two things together.

        I have always had my office, Salottobuono, that was already existing at the time of the beginning of San Rocco. Salottobuono is a very small office. My practice is small and, in terms of dimension of the office, it’s really variable and connected to specific commissions. And I must say that in the last three, four years, the weight of the academic activity and teaching was heavier and, in a way, the office suffered from it. Especially when I am abroad and since it’s a very small office, I don’t have the structure that can support my presence abroad, in order to have control from here of what happens in the office. So what happens, in fact, is that the office travels with me. I am working here on my projects in Italy. In the recent years I worked on a series of public commissions, mainly with small municipalities in the North center of Italy. I worked really on public projects, meaning projects of a square, of some parks or civic center, the extension of a casino in Venezia — which is a public-private mix. This area of work is really interesting for me, really difficult and demanding. There is a lot of bureaucracy, not a lot of money involved all the time. Most of these commissions are direct commissions — this implies that they are below a certain level of budgets. And sometimes the scope, the expectation, the ambition of the project is much larger than the budget you have. So I would describe my situation right now as a mix of this academic and professional work. It has always been like this, I would say — all research and production, ever since the beginning, right after I completed my studies in Venice. But maybe what is new is the amount of academic work I’m doing: teaching here in Milan, also in private schools in Milan, and before that I was teaching in Genova and so on. So let’s say that since the COVID year, this activity became more and more important in my life.

 

Dusi-.-Ghidoni-.-MARKET-SQUARE-.-Terre-del-Reno-Gerda-Studio-afasia-1.jpg
enrico-dusi-studio-salottobuono-matteo-ghidoni-marco-cappelletti-casino-di-venezia-ca-nogh

Market Square, Enrico Dusi & 
Matteo Ghidoni, Sant’Agostino (Terre del Reno), Italy, 2019, 
Photograph: Giorgio De Vecchi.

Casinò di Venezia, Ca’ Noghera, Enrico Dusi & Matteo Ghidoni / Salottobuono, Venice, Italy, 2020, Photograph: Marco Cappelletti.

SS:    You teach the project, the studio?

 

MG:    Yes, normally I teach the studio. Sometimes it happens that I teach something more theoretical, connected to architectural drawing, but mainly the architectural studio.

 

SS:    May I ask — perhaps as a side note in the broader discussion — what your current project at MIT is about? How did you conceive it? I imagine you have the academic freedom to propose the subject yourself.

 

MG:    Yes, it is an option studio, so I have the freedom to propose. Core studios, on the other hand, are more structured around certain topics that students might face in their first, second, or third year.  I decided to bring here in the beginning — like three years ago — a topic that I was already working with in Italy, in Genova especially, which is Enclosures. Somehow, starting from an article by Vittorio Gregotti, well, an editorial for the first issue of his amazing magazine, Rassegna, published in 1979, I guess, the first issue. I don’t know if you know this magazine Rassegna …

          It’s not really well known abroad — also because it was written in Italian — but it was a fantastic magazine, I would say, monographic, monothematic. It started in 79 and lasted for 77 issues and then it stoped. The very first issue of Rassegna is about enclosures, recinti in Italian, which is an ambiguous word in a way because it defines this idea of the architecture of the perimeter. But what Gregotti says about this topic is that — let’s say — he tries to provide a kind of possible definition, which is exactly what you are trying to do with this very broad concept. He sees it as an act of territorial conquer, but it’s an act of a primary act of construction that is done collectively.So it’s one of these foundation acts of architecture. I started to work on this with the students, trying to make projects that could add to the catalog of examples that Gregotti proposes — which is by definition incomplete — but at the same time, it offers this generosity of being completed by others. It’s almost like launching a series of proposals and then let it open to be completed by others. So as I worked two semesters on Enclosures, this year I decided to continue with this approach to architecture through specific single elements or basic gestures. And this time I proposed to work on the roof. So somehow I turned the problem 90 degree and moved from the centrality of the plan to that of the section. So the studio now is called Under One Roof, because we are interested in the collective and public agency of the roof. So not so much in itself as a technical element, but once again as a selective element — something that makes a territory discrete in defining what is under the roof and what is outside of the roof. The studio is interested in investigating the spatial, atmospheric, structural qualities of the space under the roof. And I’m working on two scales with the students: the first exercise is shorter and it’s a pavilion and then a civic infrastructure in the city.

 

SS:    Do you choose specific sites for these projects?

 

MG:    Yes, I propose some locations. In a way it’s tricky because I want to work locally. I want to work in Boston or here in the context where I am and it’s a context that I don’t know very well. So this is the main struggle every year to try to find the place, the site, the topic or the specific program that can go with the broader topic I am proposing. So we don’t start from: this is the site, this is the program, let’s design something — but it’s a project-based research. So for instance, now I am conducting the series of roof talks — I call them the roof talks — inviting offices or authors that dealt with the topic in an interesting manner and discussing with the students about one single project for each author in a very in-depth way. So yeah, finally we have sites, we have programs, but it’s not the first thing. I mean, I know it’s tricky, it’s like — you have to design a roof in the end.  And so you already know what would be the project.

The Book of Copies

SS:    If we move toward a discussion of San Rocco, I’m thinking right now about The Book of Copies, and it seems to me that the roof could be another topic worth exploring. Of course, it’s essential — one might even argue it’s the central issue in architecture.

 

MG:    Yes, I’m quite sure, I don’t remember, but there should be some book of copies around the topic of the roof, maybe a more specific kind of roof. And yes, the structure and the method of The Book of Copies really influenced my teaching in a way. Many times I ask the students to put together sort of a book of copies around the topic. For instance, we did it for the Enclosures, because it’s really this idea of creating — trying to explore this collective knowledge of the architecture that has been built or designed through time and, considering what are the relevant aspects we can find for our projects today. And so I like a lot to work with the students, at least in the preliminary phase of the studio, as a collaborative research unit in which the knowledge is shared. Especially here in the US I must say that the behavior of the students is a bit more individualistic. It’s not a surprise and it’s difficult to convey this idea that architecture is not a secret. It’s more like a shared knowledge and we should work together on a specific topic, then everybody develops their own proposals.

Early Days of San Rocco

SS:    I think you have mentioned earlier the beginnings of San Rocco. From what we understand, it was a very collaborative process, which is fantastic. We’d like to ask about those early days: How did things come together? How did you all meet?

 

MG:    It’s true that collaboration is a word that we have always used. And it’s something both structural, I would say, in the DNA of San Rocco and a topic of discussion and an argument that interests us as a topic for the magazine. San Rocco is exactly a collaborative project made by four offices in the beginning. There were Salottobuono, baukuh, 2A+P/A, and also Kersten Geers, David Van Severen, and two photographers, Giovanna Silva and Stefano Graziani, and one graphic designer, Francesca Pellicciari. That was more or less, let’s say, the starting group. We knew each other from school, from the university in Venice. Well, many of us were studying in Venice and few in Genova and few in Rome, but we had a chance to meet each other during the school days because of the mutual interest in the projects and competitions that we were starting to develop. And I think one key figure we all worked and collaborated under was Stefano Boeri at the time when he came to teach at IUAV. At that time I was already graduating and then we collaborated with him. After my graduation, I moved to Milan to work with him mainly in the research and the academic environment. He was really a collector, a sort of reference point for many of us. After finishing the school, many of us started to collaborate with magazines, especially with Abitare and Domus, somebody with Casabella too. So we all had some editorial experience. Personally, with my office, we curated, we edited the section called Instructions and Manuals on Abitare Magazine under the direction of Boeri. So we met several times before starting San Rocco. We met by chance, sometimes with the occasion of an exhibition or the Biennale or other collective moments, and we started talking about the panorama of magazines at the time — especially Italian magazines. It was already 2007, 2008, so the economic crisis started to affect the financial resources of the magazines, and there was a huge debate around what kind of direction should they take — how to face this — and also the digital publishing was stronger and stronger, and that also posed a question about the future of paper publication. So, I would say that the outcome of this discussion was a sort of dissatisfaction with what was happening and with the kind of direction that some magazines took. In our opinion, they didn’t focus anymore on architectural problems, on the specifics of architecture, and they took a much wider range of problems, of arguments. So I think we were at dinner and we started saying: Why don’t we try to make our own magazine, our own publication? Why don’t we try to say what we want to say and see what are the things, the interest that we share  and try to create a platform that is not limited to Italy, but could generate a debate with other countries. We were also already looking a lot to Belgium, to the Netherlands, to what was happening in Switzerland, and so on. And so we simply said: “ Let’s try to do this”, and we started.

 

IM:    It was also kind of a small rebellion of some sort.

 

MG:    Maybe, yes. You can feel a bit of rage in some of the editorials, maybe, a bit of, like: “Enough!”.

 

SS:    Did you also have good models that you admired, like various magazines or publications that were somehow on the table as references?

 

IM:    Maybe older?

 

MG:    Yes, there is a bit of nostalgia, of course, in what happened, also in the idea of publishing on paper that we had since the beginning, because we were very fascinated by these products that we could touch. The Italian publishing Panorama had a lot of amazing references, like some directions of Casabella, the history of Domus, but even lesser-known magazines like Rassegna that I was mentioning before — each of us had their own favorites, of course. We didn’t really bring them and put them on the table, but we had them in our mind. Think about Terrazzo, for instance, this publication by Ettore Sottsass. We also started to understand, maybe, that what most of the magazines we loved had in common was a limited lifespan. So the possibility of recognizing a project that could cover, 20 issues, 10 maybe — Terrazzo, for instance, had 12 or 13 issues, Rassegna 77, certain moments of Casabella

 

IM:    Maybe that was a decision made at the beginning.

 

MG:    Yes, in our case, yes. But in the case of Rassegna or Terrazzo, I think it was more a matter of money, a matter of conditions under which this happened. But you still have the feeling that the project had a precise task — to be completed in a certain number of issues. Maybe they already knew that it was not going to last forever. This is really good, in our opinion, we all agreed on this — on giving yourself a goal, a task, that makes the project more precise, more suitable for your intention. In that moment, when San Rocco was born, or after San Rocco was born, we observed that many fanzines, magazines around Europe, around the world were popping up. There was a renewed interest on publishing on paper, but many of them lasted only one issue, or they started and they never went on. So deciding from the beginning that we wanted to have 20 issues — a goal that we didn’t completely accomplish, because we made 16 in the end — was an assumption of responsibility, saying:  we want to do this — and then we will succeed, we will not succeed, let’s see, but this is our goal. That can change for external reasons. For instance, we immediately understood that in the beginning we declared we wanted to make four issues per year in order to have the 20 issues completed in five years. We immediately understood that it was impossible for us to do this, because it was not our main activity. All of us had offices or work — we had to do the profession. Some of us already started to be in the academic environment, pursuing academic career, so it was simply impossible to put together four books every year with the kind of project we had in mind. And that changed, but, at least in the beginning, if you don’t state your intention, it’s really difficult then to see the scope of your project.

 

SS:    Just out of curiosity — did you consider any alternative names before settling on San Rocco?

 

MG:    Not that I remember. We loved it right away — it was Italian and a bit unexpected. I don’t remember any other name. That’s a nice question. I don’t remember any other proposals before San Rocco, but I should check.

The Form of San Rocco

SS:    You mentioned the formal aspect of printing the magazine on paper. Before discussing content, did you have initial conversations about the magazine’s structure — like the relationship between text and images — or the type of articles, whether more theoretical or applied?

 

MG:    Yes, of course, we discussed a lot about the form of the thing, because as architects we work on form. We spent two years discussing about the cover for instance. The first issue, the number zero of San Rocco, was launched in 2010, but I guess we started discussing about it in 2008 at least or maybe 2007. So it was in the air for a long time and we had several discussions and of course, many of these discussions were about the layout of the magazine. Well, not the internal layout — for this we trusted our graphic designer Francesca, she did the job. Also the internal layout was really influenced by the cost, so you see that most of the pages of San Rocco are printed in black and white and there is probably one-sixteenth or two-sixteenth in color. But the cover, the cover was a huge topic, because we tried many kind of titles and so on.

SR-0_1.jpg

San Rocco cover, Innocence, Issue 0, July 2010. Cover drawing of Toyo Ito’s U House by Michele Marchetti.

SS:    I love the radical choice of leaving the cover completely text-free.

 

MG:    Yeah, I don’t remember exactly what led to this decision. We made a lot of proofs, we printed some attempts, some proofs and I guess the text on the cover made it look old in a way.  And finally, we erased the text, we erased the color, it’s just black and white and the drawing — an axonometric drawing most of the time — which was a kind of drawing that we were exploring with my office a lot in that moment and it’s also something that connected us to the other offices. That was in a moment in which, in the beginning of 2000s, renderings were booming and when competitions were really based on the quality of your renderings and so on. Baukuh for instance participated in a European competition with two projects that were just drawn in lines in black and white and they won the two competitions. It was in Budapest and in Amsterdam.

baukuh_cassius_2003_amsterdam_perspective.jpg
baukuh_cassius_2003_amsterdam_concept.jpg

Cassius, baukuh / Far West & City of Amsterdam, Amsterdam, The Netherlands, 2003, Competition project

SS:    Do you think it’s still possible today to win a competition only by such drawings without renderings?

 

MG:    They were digital drawings, line drawings, black and white. It became very fashionable afterwards and I think it still is to some extent, but you need some renderings and models to convince. What I’m saying is that maybe this idea of hand drawing spoke a lot about our intention to take objects that were built or designed in history and to reconsider them as something that can speak about our time. So redrawing them with the same technique of the axonometric drawing made them like a series of objects that could be put on the table and let’s say detached from their specific historical period and can be observed as such — as architecture. This idea of using the drawing speaks a lot about this aptitude on the cover.

San Rocco’s Audience

IM:    Did you have in mind the target that San Rocco would speak to? I mean, do you think it was mainly addressed to architects and people who were initiated or not necessarily?

 

MG:    Before I answer your important question, I want to clarify that the magazine was intended to focus on the projects themselves, rather than on architectural theories in general. But if we want to simplify, we can say that it’s treated as a folder, as a catalog of projects. You put together these objects — so the structure of the magazine is very simple. It’s just one article after the other, there are no surprises. Most of the time, it’s really treated in a very schematic manner in which every article talks about a specific project — and this is under the umbrella of the topic that we chose every time— but the intention was not to produce a magazine that spoke about abstract theories on architecture, but just going on with the project. And maybe this also relates to your question about the audience. The typical audience that we imagined was somebody like us. First of all, we did San Rocco for us — meaning all the people that were in our condition of being practitioners, but also architects who participated in a sort of debate, in competitions, in exhibitions, in publications, and sometimes work in the academic environment, they teach and so on. I think that this kind of subject was targeting a particular kind of intellectual architect or architect doing the intellectual work, which is what architects should do. We recognize that there were many like us, at least in Europe, and we wanted to speak to this particular kind of audience. The choice of the audience was not really driven by strategic economic choices. It was a very honest way to say: “We are in this condition. We are here. We are 10 people, but there are hundreds of people like us around and we want to expand the debate”. That is, I guess, the subject we wanted to address.

 

SS:    It was significant that many of the group’s initiators were practitioners, not only theoreticians.

 

MG:    Yes, all of us. We didn’t have pure theoreticians in the group, but among us, there were many interested in studying history of architecture and theories, and so on. Mainly history more than theories — and history in the sense that we wanted to understand what was there to take from the architecture of the past. It was a process of selection that we wanted to start.

Call for Papers

SS:    Did you receive feedback from readers or students that influenced how the magazine evolved?

 

MG:    Of course, because as I was saying, the main tool of San Rocco was the call for papers. So, in the beginning, for instance, for the number zero, we invited the contributors directly, but already from number one on, San Rocco was triggering a debate and we received a series of proposals, a series of abstracts in response to our call for papers. And as we moved on, we had more and more abstracts to the point that for some issues, we had something like 100 or 120 abstracts to read, and then we had to select 20 of them. We were surprised by the sort of instant success of the magazine. We launched the number zero during the Biennale of Architecture of 2010, but not like an official event. We “parasited” the Biennale in a way. And in 2012, we got already invited to contribute to the Biennale, by David Chipperfield, on the Common Ground.

Mzch 11_8.11_v2.jpg

San Rocco exhibition, Collaborations, 13th International Architecture Exhibition, Venice Biennale, Venice, 2012. Photograph by Giovanna Silva

        I think it was one of the first times or occasions in which an editorial board was invited as a contributor to the Biennale, recognizing that this editorial board was also a bunch of practitioners that with their work, tried to do something with architecture. So yes, we had this feedback mainly through the call for papers, because you could sense that every call received answers that were somehow reacting or commenting previous calls. In a way, the terms of the debate were stated and the people who contributed, most of the times, had the sense of the kind of environment in which they were participating.

          Then we could observe the popularity of the axonometric drawings — it became evident in architectural schools. We were sometimes worried, even a bit ashamed, of this spread of white-on-black drawings and axonometrics, because we thought it was just a kind of stylistic copy. In our case, the reasons for using these drawings were a bit deeper. So yes, I think it had an effect and generated feedback on many levels. The most amazing thing was the instant popularity the magazine achieved —we didn’t expect that.

 

SS:    Did you talk about that in the editorial board?

 

MG:    Not really. Well, we talked about it, but in very simple terms — like we should increase the print rate.

 

IM:    And celebrate.

 

MG:    Well, none of us did really make money out of it. But of course, we printed, I don’t know, 1,000 copies for the first issues, and then we ended up printing 3,000, I guess. And now they are all sold out, most of them.

 

SS:    Are you planning to reprint some of the issues?

 

MG:    No, but not to make it an object of desire. It’s more like a problem of storing all this paper. At least in the beginning, we were really independent. So we managed also distribution by ourselves. Then we had some distributors in Europe and in the US and some other countries. But mainly we had a lot of papers in our offices, because then we didn’t have a specific building for San Rocco. They were all in our offices. And so the management of paper was a big issue. One person had to be dedicated to moving, sending, shipping the magazines and so on. So this is another reason why we didn’t want to reprint the issues. Also what we did was simply put them in PDF on the website and you can download the PDF that is exactly the same as the magazine. If you want, you can print it yourself. It’s available on the website.

         Our intention was not to make this information available only to a few or the gifted, but it was just a practical reason. We wanted to spread the magazine as much as possible in many ways, that’s why we published the PDF.

         You were also mentioning The book of copies earlier on. The book of copies was printed in the form of books, a series of five books. And it was really expensive because there were really a lot of pages. So we printed them on demand. We accepted the orders beforehand and then we said: “Oh, we have to print — I don’t remember how many — 500 copies of the book”. And they were all sold in advance. In the same way, the content is online, so anyone can put together their own book.

The Editorials

IM:    You mentioned that the editorials were collective, not signed by a single person, and often tackled topics others in architectural theory were ignoring — almost like acts of rebellion. Were they meant as a way to reclaim architectural theory, addressing subjects important to practicing architects in Europe? And while San Rocco organized articles by topic, were the editorials more like manifestos highlighting the issues that deserved attention?

 

MG:    Yes, the editorial and the call for papers, I would say — it’s the editorial with the call and with the proposal of some case studies we thought about. As you said, while the editorial has a sort of common voice, there were topics that matter to us that were not expressed most of the times with a lot of theoretical accuracy. We took some freedom of using the irony— we were purely post-modern in this, trying also mixing, writing styles and genres and so on.

 

SS:    Would you say that humor was also part of the equation in the approach?

 

MG:    Yes, humor, absolutely. It was a part of the equation. Sometimes the editorials are more, let’s say, more like trying to fight something. We published the title Fuck Concepts! Context!. That was maybe one of the most evidently manifesto styles. Some others were quieter and so on. But sometimes we also published bad jokes, I would say. Of course, we were not philologically or theoretically accurate, but we stated it in the first editorial. We were a bit impulsive sometimes. In practical terms, what happened was that in one of the magazine’s first editorial meetings we had already decided on the 20 issues—their topics, almost even their titles—though these later changed again. It’s so precisely stated that it takes also the risk of contradiction and saying: “Okay, we changed our mind. We will not do this, we will do that”. But we wrote down a series of arguments that were important for us and we wanted to develop them through the issues of San Rocco. Some of them remain uncovered. In the last issue, we published all the drafts of the possible topics that we wanted to publish and offered them to the possibility — people that want to continue the adventure of San Rocco. Some of them were really important, some were more like a joke, but also these jokes contain some elements of truth and that matters to us. So, yes, that was the spirit.

SR-4.jpg

San Rocco cover, Fuck concept! Context!, Issue 4, 2012.

IM:    Do you recall the editorial from the Clients issue? You mentioned earlier that you now work mainly on public commissions, while that text addressed the very demise of the public sector. I found it striking and still very accurate today, at least in Romania. How do you see things having changed in the nine years since its publication?

 

MG:    It’s even less. It got worse.

 

IM:    Yes, but I love the optimistic ending — the idea that architecture, with its long-term vision, could be the last art standing. Would you agree to us translating this text and publishing it in a major cultural newspaper in Bucharest?

SR-12.jpg

San Rocco cover, The Client Issue, Issue 12, 2016.

MG:    I think it’s possible. I’ll need to check with the others, but yes, that should be fine.

 

IM:    That would be amazing. Dilema is one of the few cultural newspapers in Bucharest and Romania with a wide readership, yet architecture remains underrepresented. We often face the challenge of showing that architects are not solely to blame for the way cities look. This text is perfect for that, and publishing it would bring these ideas to a broader, non-architect audience.

 

MG:    Absolutely. It would be an honor to have this editorial published there and thank you for the interest. I think that you touched an important point: Why do they not talk about architecture anymore? Because architecture is not profitable, precisely for its intrinsic, long lifespan. It’s not made for a market in which you need to have revenue after five years and have your investment covered in a short time span. And this is precisely the reason why architectural projects now are seen as financial assets. That’s why the lifespan of buildings decreased drastically.

 

IM:    Yes, the decision-makers also think very short-term. Politicians want quick results to get reelected, so most competitions—like those for parks—favor fast, visible outcomes. These issues need to be discussed and addressed. Thank you.

 

MG:    I love the idea that you can possibly spark a debate in your country. I hope so. I’m sure you’re doing your part there, and if we can contribute to it, that is amazing.

         If you look through the editorials of San Rocco, you can say that we are always repeating the same things, more or less, with different nuances. And that’s true. That’s why we didn’t plan for a lifespan longer than 20 issues — because with 20 issues, we will have said what we wanted to say, and our lives will likely have changed by then. And that, of course, happened. But one of the main topics that you can identify through the different editorials is this topic of architecture as something that lasts — the monumental quality of architecture, meaning that the monument is something for the memory, and it’s not strictly related to the specific time when you are building it — this topic of permanence and collective enterprise. And this idea that architecture is based on a collective knowledge, on a collaborative work and it’s not a solitary individual and market-oriented activity. I think these convictions are expressed quite clearly in most of the editorials that we published, even if one time we talked about Bramante, one time we talked about Clients or Collaborations.

 

SS:    You’ve just answered the question I wanted to ask about how all 16 or 20 topics intersect, and whether any recurring themes appear.

 

MG:    The recurrent topics are based on what we shared as a group in terms of our opinions or the big question of: “What is architecture?”. It’s at the same time a stupid question and a difficult question. So what we can say is that our idea of architecture is based on the fact that we see it as a collective knowledge once again, a knowledge that is constructed through the architectures that have been built through time.

        In this sense, we always love this phrase of Giorgio Grassi: “Architecture is the architectures”. It seems like a tautology, but it is not, because the second term is plural and it refers to all the different objects that have been realized or just thought in history. As a consequence, it should be a collaborative work. We wanted to understand our work as an editorial team, as a collaborative work, but also think about the collaborative nature of architecture. We dedicated specific issues and also our participation in the Biennale to this.

           There’s also the fact that we strongly see architecture mainly as a formal problem. By addressing form and space, you address all the other issues: political, social and so on; so we cannot avoid the topic of form through which all these other values converge and are made into a manifest. So I think that around these three core ideas — architecture as collective knowledge, architecture as a collaborative process, and architecture as a formal problem — we tried to develop the editorials, each focusing on different aspects and nuances of them.

 

SS:    I loved what you said about focusing more on history than theory. It’s thought-provoking, because I usually approach things theoretically. Your way of bringing history into the present, making it relevant for today, and seeing how it works before tackling theory is really compelling.

 

MG:    You know that in Italy, we had this thing called the operative history that was accused to be a non-objective history because it is driven by intentions, by project intentions.

 

SS:    Yes, I greatly appreciated the book Capolavori by Roberto Masiero and Livio Vacchini. It’s in the same vein — they examine buildings of the past by exploring their logic, rather than analyzing them from a historicist perspective.

 

MG:    I think the approach is the same. There is a slight difference, in my opinion, in that work, which is the very personal tone of the research and its connection to a personal experience — a memory that truly belongs to the author. What we tried to do, perhaps, was to address this topic from a more collective perspective, from the perspective of the public — the intrinsic public quality of architecture. But you’ve studied Vacchini’s work much more closely, so perhaps you have a more accurate perspective on this.

 

SS:    It’s a very unique take, his and Masiero’s view. For me, it’s the same perspective somehow.

 

MG:    Maybe what we wanted to push forward was a more logical perspective. It’s somewhat what happened in Aldo Rossi’s career — he had a logical moment in the beginning, which then became more personal with Autobiografia scientifica and his later works. We are, in a way, more attracted to the moment when his analysis of the city and of architecture was a bit more logical, maybe colder in a sense.

San_Cataldo_Cemetery,_Modena_(39491410142).jpg

San Cataldo Cemetery, Aldo Rossi, Modena, Italy, 1971.

Architecture Publications Today

SS:    Now that a few years have passed since the end of San Rocco, we were wondering if, with this distance, you might draw some conclusions or share some thoughts about this important chapter. And as a secondary question — not ‘What is architecture?’, but rather: What should an architectural magazine be today?

 

MG:    Even more difficult.

 

SS:    Or not be today. Or if you feel that we’re still in the same moment and place in time — a cultural time — as when San Rocco emerged, during the 2008 crisis, the economic and financial one. Now we are after the pandemic, with many wars and many identity crises.

 

MG:    No, it’s a good question, a very difficult one. Somehow what we have always tried to avoid was a nostalgic attitude. Then we never wanted to celebrate the good old times when the things were better than today. We have always tried to make a magazine. That seems contradictory, but we looked a lot into history of architecture, in order to generate a debate on topics of today and tomorrow. So the attitude was really never nostalgic. It’s not like we didn’t want to indulge into celebrating the past per se. I would like to think that magazines today are representing a possible path, a possibility — although I don’t see many. Maybe it’s my ignorance. I’m not so constantly focused anymore on architectural publishing. I am still disappointed with the publishing panorama of my country. If I see, let’s say, all celebrated magazines like Domus or Casabella today, it seems to me that they are repeating themselves over and over. I mean, it’s based on a celebration of novelty and publishing the new things and so on.

 

SS:    And fame.

 

MG:    Fame, yes, of course — trying here and there to generate a little discourse. At the moment, I really like publications, magazines that want to talk about the projects in a very in-depth way — also trying to understand what the process behind the project was, things that are not usually told, the conditions, the economics, and the context. In general, the context read as a social, economic, cultural, political context, in a wider sense, and not just: “the site is beautiful and they will put my building here”.

         For instance, there is a Greek magazine. I don’t know if you know it, DOMa. A few years ago, they started this new path in which they wanted to talk about five projects for each issue, but in a very wide, very rich with documents, trying to represent the process behind every project. So, I would expect more accuracy from the magazines and I would expect that they tell us something about the context in which the projects are produced. For instance, in Italy, there is this problem that we look a lot at Swiss architecture, which is celebrated, published, and is really photogenic. But the risk is that, we look at models and contexts that have nothing to do with our country. Think about the public project, as you were saying. If you publish today a public project that has been realized in Italy, you should really try to represent what are the conditions, what is the context of the project and not just the project, per se, as an image, a good or a bad image. Then, I would like to have a bit of debate — which is not always very polite — a bit of nasty questions and nasty answers.

           It happened to me to find here some issues of Harvard Design Magazine, for instance. There was an issue from 1980 in which the students invited a bunch of architects to discuss around the topic of modernism and post-modernism. That was the topic of the moment. What they did was to organize a very brief well known projects presentations, like Gallaratese or some projects by Venturi or the library by Isozaki, this sort of vaulted tube. What happened was that they had a debate among the panel. There was Eisenman, there was Pei, there was Stan Allen and many other personalities that attacked their peers. There were really nasty, sometimes violent critiques. I remember Eisenman saying: “We shouldn’t even discuss about this project. It’s not relevant”. And I miss this — a bit of this impoliteness and a bit of “blood” in the debate.

Monte-Amiata-Housing-Gallaratese-II-Milan-07-2014a.jpg

Gallaratese Quarter, Aldo Rossi, Carlo Aymonino, Milano, Italy, 1972.

WI01.png

Kitakyushu City Central Library, Arata Isozaki, Kitakyushu-City, Japan, 1974.

SS:    We had this at our university: after a year project, several studios would come together to discuss each student’s work, and intense, ‘blood’ discussions would happen. But over time, people became more cautious, concerned about the professor’s image, and the institution changed. Now, as you said, everything is very polite and orderly.

 

MG:    Everything is very polite because you need to preserve your position in the school. And as our positions become increasingly unstable, you have to do everything to be accepted in the academic community. And that’s a problem. It’s understandable — I see why. It’s not that you have to hate your opponents forever. It’s a conversation that happens, framed by a certain time and context. And that’s it. That’s what happens there. But maybe if there’s a bit of a fight, there will be something to remember in this context. What I see is a very polite environment everywhere. There’s no reason to discuss anything beyond celebrating your beautiful project or your very good students. And that’s it.

 

IM:    These are thoughts for our next project. We’ll call it the “Bloody Project”. Like Fight Club, you know?

 

MG:    Fight Club is great. It’s a great title for a magazine — not only about architecture. Because there is so much violence around, the possible antidote is to have your space for — I wouldn’t call it violence, but for antagonism.

         But I remember also on magazines like ANY, for instance, they organized this debate around projects. The point to me is always to have the evidence of the project in the center of the debate — and then a possible discussion around it. I remember Rem Koolhaas showing the project of one of his first villas in Miami — the one with the parallel walls — and receiving critiques from his peers. I don’t know where it was published. So each of us as architects is subject to critique. It’s good that these critiques exist and that they often start from the specifics of a project, then expand into broader considerations about the role of architecture in today’s society.

1

early-collage-study-pink-house-copy.jpg

Early collage study for the Pink House, c. 1973, Laurinda Spear, Rem Koolhaas, Miami, Florida, USA, 1979.

IM:    Maybe that’s exactly what’s missing — a platform for debate. Schools no longer provide it, and neither do the bigger magazines, which aren’t interested. Architecture information is becoming atomized, with news and discussions scattered into smaller, specialized channels — like individuals curating Instagram accounts on specific types of houses. Everything is getting smaller and more fragmented.

 

MG:    Yes, specialized. I mean, the image of what you’re saying, in my opinion, is the current Venice Biennale. I don’t know if you have visited it, but...

 

IM:    Not this one. You mean this specific one?

 

MG:    The one that is going on now. The tone is really technocratic, with this trust in technology as something that will save us all. But if you look at the Biennale, the titles and intentions are getting broader, looser, and less defined as the event unfolds. The number of participants keeps growing — I think this edition has the largest number ever, maybe five or six hundred. That says a lot about this quantitative approach: you don’t have to clearly express ideas, just launch vague calls around vague subjects and fill the exhibition spaces. That’s it. So yes, rethinking the role of these institutions and the format of such events would be a good thing, in my opinion — again, with the goal of producing a meaningful debate.

1 - ANY (an acronym for “Architecture New York”) was an architectural journal published by the ANYone Corporation for over seven years. The first issue was published in May 1993, and the last in September 2000. A total of 27 issues were published. Contributors to ANY included Zaha Hadid, Bernard Tschumi, Elizabeth Diller, Rem Koolhaas, Sanford Kwinter, R.E. Somol, Peter Eisenman, and Greg Lynn. Issues one to eight were designed by long-time Eisenman collaborator, Massimo Vignelli. Beginning with number eight, the magazine was designed by graphic design firm, 2x4. ANY was succeeded by Log, also published by the ANYone Corporation. Source: Wikipedia

 

bottom of page