
|
channelbeta - canale d'informazione sull'architettura
contemporanea |


|
[1-2004] |
|
channelbeta COPYFREE |
|
At last I succeeded in having a copy of Domus yesterday. I cannot but congratulate the new director. I expected a lot less, in spite of my personal consideration for Stefano Boeri, because I imagined inevitable editorial compromise. When I asked the newsagent the January issue, I was distracted by the big font writings on the cellophane, but then I was reassured when reading the names. A bit sceptic, but with the utmost curiosity, I unwrapped the magazine, and Domus's true soul came out of the plastic skin, revealing itself to be totally in contrast with the packaging, full of names and logos. The cover has no special effects and does not attract attention due to bright colours or sinuous shapes or any other aesthetic virtuosity. It's an old black and white photograph: "Milan, May 30, 1968. A group of artists and a hundred architecture students want to hinder the 14th Triennial's inauguration..." The cover picture is spread over two sheets, Giancarlo De Carlo is at the centre of the scene but is not immediately visible: one discovers him when he unfolds the magazine cover, which becomes a self-standing part besides being the content display window. "Better than an editorial. Such cover - an editorial-cover, as I would call it - seems to me an idea worth exploiting and emphasizing," writes Luigi Prestinenza Puglisi with full right on his PresS/Tletter. All in all, the cellophane with printed names and logos can be accepted, if it is the price to be paid for a new editorial space on the cover. This is a choice that could disappoint some of the readers, who could think that the absence of a traditional editorial is a lack, or that the choice of a historical picture is driven by the inability of facing contemporaneity without exposing oneself. These are superficial interpretations that could deceive those who are accustomed to skim through the pages without reading them. Contemporaneity is no temporal concept. That image, together with the few comment lines, is in fact one of the most beautiful editorials in Domus, both for its content and for the synthetic way it is conveyed. And its meaning is full of contemporaneity. Boeri sees the architecture as "the way to understand the world" and displays contents, puts communication upside-down and uses images to underline them. All this is also confirmed by a "small" detail at the bottom left - "monthly magazine of Architecture, Design, Art and Information", where the latter replaces Communication. Two faces of the same medal, but which put a different emphasis on the individual: as an object in the first instance, as subject and user in the second.
But
what do we find beyond the cover? I do not spend time on such news as the production
diagram, which I consider very interesting and definitely not self-gratulatory,
as Luigi Prestinenza Puglisi says, even if I would have rather put it at the end.
But I agree with him in that "joining the events calendar to the reviews
is an excellent idea, for it eliminates the useless dualism between news and comments."
However, these are but details. From this point on, reading Domus is a real crescendo.
The guided tour of the Dutch embassy in Berlin by OMA, told by means of the cartoons
technique, is original and just appropriate for this kind of article, it brings
you inside the building just in the same way as when one read Dylan Dog's stories.
This is followed by 10 intense pages devoted to Cedric Price's Fun Palace. A project
of the 60s by "one" who declared himself an anti-architect, and another
instance of timeless contemporaneity.
Cino Zucchi's text on Gino Valle is an aside intended to recall one of the greatest Italian architects of the last fifty years, aside which paves the way to the Mediterranean "Solid Sea", a text about the tragic shipwreck happened along Sicily southern coast on Christmas Eve 1996. The presence of the new director and of his "multiplicity" are felt in this part of the magazine. It seems we are far from architecture, however we are closer than we could figure out. As a matter of fact, multiplicity investigates history in that it is made of faces, of death, of terror; it fully analyses history in order to understand reality and trace its macroscopic paths. Francesco Jodice examines the crime scene of a terrible family homicide ("Crime Spaces: The Crandell Case") in the same way and with the same intensity but with a completely different language. He reconstructs the facts through photographs, maps and direct evidences.
One
has to have another break before going ahead with Bruno Latour's philosophy-anthropology
essay "Can a non-modern style exist today?". This new Domus is tough,
one has to master it. Then the reading becomes more fluent, with Kazuyo Sejima's
project "The nest in the plum orchard", a real architectural masterpiece
and a great example of harmony between architect and client.
Hans
Ulrich Obrist's interview to Ludovico Magistretti is just in the middle of the
magazine. Obrist is the thread of the discourse, he acts as a network to connect
the various protagonists of the issue; he really loves chatting with artists and
has done this for many years, often bringing a tape-recorder with him. He was
the curator of the Utopia Station exhibition held at the latest Art Biennial of
Venice in which there was also Boeri, and "Interviews vol I", a work
still in project, ambitious and enormous, including more than 400 interviews to
the most interesting front men of contemporary culture, has been recently published.
Rather than interviews, these are real conversations in which Obrist himself is
involved. Among these conversations are many different names - architects, directors,
artists, philosophers - including those featured in this issue of Domus. One of
the 66 interviews is on board an aircraft with Stefano Boeri, then with Giancarlo
De Carlo, Rem Koolhaas, Kazuyo Sejima and Philippe Parremo, Algerian artist who
wrote the next article, "After Effect" (like Boeri, he, too, was invited
by Obrist to take part in Utopia Station on the occasion of the latest Art Biennial
of Venice), as well as Maurizio Cattelan, who wrote the final piece, "el
topo", closing January's issue. The interview to Vico Magistretti in Obrist's
style is rather an interesting conversation and confrontation between two clever
people.
Translated
by Michela Lucchini |

|
Pictures provided by
tha author |















