storia

Storia dello spazio pubblico a Roma dalle origini ai giorni nostri a cura di: Gregory Smith Jan Gadeyne

INTERVENTI DEI PARTECIPANTI Introduzione: Gregory Smith e Jan Gadeyne Relatori: Paul Anderson – Marcantonio Colonna e la Vittoria di Lepanto: La Definizione di uno spazio Pubblico presso Santa Maria in Aracoeli Germà Bel – Il dilemma tra gestione pubblica e privata dei servizi pubblici. La riforma della riforma: oltre privatizzazione Luisa Bravo – Dalla Roma antica alla città monumentale del XX secolo: il proggetto per una nuova capitale imperiale Jasmine Cloud – Da Foro Boario a Piazza Pubblica: Il Rifacimento del Foro nel Seicento Dallas DeForest – Spazio pubblico nella Roma tarda antica: il caso delle Thermae Imperiali Antonella De Michelis – La definizione degli spazi lungo Via del Corso nella Roma farnesiana Paola Di Cori – Lo spazio pubblico quale desiderio, sogno, e storia: Freud e Roma Jan Gadeyne – SCORCIATOIE. Osservazioni sulla formazione delle strade medievali a Roma Claire Holleran – Commercio e lo spazio pubblico nella Roma Antica Iana Jimborean – La Loggia della Benedizione presso la chiesa di San Pietro nel Quattrocento e la visualizzazione del potere David Mayernik – La forma dello Spazio Pubblico: Luogo, Spazio, Spazio Spazzatura Joanna Norman, Victoria and Albert – Performance e Politica negli Spazi Urbani della Roma Barocca Manuel Royo – Omnis Caesareo cedit labor Amphitheatro, unum pro cuntis fama loquetur opus (Mart.,1,7-8): Si spostava il centro della Roma antica?

Gregory Smith – Visioni quotidiani nella Roma dei Pasolini Tamara Smithers – “SPQR CAPITOLIVM RESTITVUIT”: La renovatio del Campidoglio e l’utilizzo degli ordini giganti da parte di Michelangelo Vittorio Vidotto – Public space in Modern Rome: the case of Piazza Venezia Mildred E. Warner – Invertire la privatizazione, bilanciare la riforma del governo Lila Yawn – I territori dei Frangipane e dei Pierleoni nell’ Epoca degli Antipapi (XI-XII sec.)

“Perspectives on public space in Rome, from antiquity to the present day�

Gregory Smith and Jan Gadeyne, Cornell in Rome Introduction Here we present the preliminary results of a conference organized as an integral part of the three-day Biennial of Public Space sponsored in May of 2011 by the Lazio section of the National Institute for Urban Planners (INU). The conference brought together different perspectives on public space in the city of Rome pertaining to all historical periods. The initiative aimed to open debate on the notion of public space across time, interpreted as a fluid concept having architectural, institutional, political, social, religious, phenomenological, and artistic relevance. The uniting feature of the conference was its focus on Rome.

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Marcantonio Colonna e la Vittoria di Lepanto: La Definizione di uno Spazio Pubblico presso Santa Maria in Aracoeli Paul Anderson, California State University at Los Angeles

Marcantonio Colonna and the Victory at Lepanto: The Framing of a Public Space at Santa Maria in Aracoeli Paul Anderson, California State University at Los Angeles

Il 21 novembre del 1571 il senato romano decise di far costruire un soffitto incastonato nella chiesa di Santa Maria in Aracoeli per rendere omaggio all’ammiraglio Marcantonio Colonna della marina papale per la vittoria della Lega Santa sulla flotta turca al largo di Lepanto, e per celebrare la sua marcia trionfale nella Città Eterna. La processione in pompa magna organizzata per onorare il comandante romana serviva proclamare la seconda età dell’epoca cristiana sotto papa Pio V. Un simile evento non si vedeva dai tempi di Costantino.

Il soffitto dell’Aracoeli serviva per memorializzare lo spettacolo civico ed effimero incorporando nel suo programma artistico la localizzazione ed il movimento dei partecipanti al corteo.

Le rappresentazioni della flotta turca sconfitta con lo stendardo rivolto verso terra furono integrati nella rappresentazione, affiancati dagli stendardi del papa, del Senato Romano, e dello stesso Marcantonio Colonna. Il soffitto possiede la stessa qualità processionale di un antico arco trionfale, ricrea lo spettacolo pubblico, ed afferma il messaggio politico del trionfo di Pio V.

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On 21 November 1571 the Roman Senate decided to erect a coffered ceiling at Santa Maria in Aracoeli (ill. 1) to honor admiral Marcantonio Colonna of the papal navy for the Holy League’s victory over the Turkish Fleet off Lepanto and his triumphal entry into the Eternal City. The stately procession given in honor of the Roman commander served to proclaim a second Christian age of triumph under pope Pius V that had not been witnessed in the Eternal City since Constantine. Colonna entered Rome in the manner worthy of a Roman emperor. He was received at the Porta San Sebastiano by the Roman Senate, city Conservators, and Church officials, who accompanied the commander along the Via Appia, passing the Baths of Caracalla, Arch of Constantine, proceeding through the Roman Forum up to the Capitoline hill, and concluding at St. Peter’s.

The Aracoeli ceiling commission was awarded to the French wood-sculptor Flaminio Boulangier who had recently carried out the soffitto in the Sala dei Trionfi of the Conservators’ Palace. The contract stipulated that the ceiling was to be executed according to master Flaminio’s design.

Boulangier divided the polychrome ceiling into three longitudinal sections: the central band consisting of three monumental rectangular registers connected by two octogonal compartments created an elegant use of the geometrical space. The arms of popes Pius V (ill. 2) and Gregory XIII adorn the outer registers while the central lacunar contains a statue of the Virgin Mary (ill. 3) suspended in the clouds linked by two allegorical representations of the Roman Comune and supported by two putti (ill. 4).

The four rectangular compartments surrounding the Virgin represent the naval fleets of the main protagonists – Papal States, Venice, Spain and Turkish Empire – the latter with its standard, the Crescent Moon, facing towards the ground in the sign of defeat (ill. 5). Coffers of the two outer rows display war trophies, spoglie, and weaponry siezed by the Holy League at the Battle of Lepanto on 7 October 1571. The Roman antiquarian and linguist Fulvio Orsini recorded the naval victory at Lepanto, along with the vote of the Roman Senate in honor of Marcantonio Colonna, in a Latin inscription – “Declario inscriptionis Laquearii” – above the triumphal arch of the nave.

On the occasion of the commemoration of the Battle of Lepanto, F. Del Sodo, Conpendio delle chiese di Roma e loro fondationi, 1571, recorded that a solemn mass was conducted in S. Maria in Aracoeli during the week of December 13 which was attended by a great number of people, including the tribunal of the Campidoglio.

The church interior, which was sumptuously decorated with banners, tapestries, brocades, and ten Turkish flags hung over one of the entrances, is reflected in the nave ceiling decoration. The façade was decorated with tapestries, festoons, and the stemme of Pius V, Marcantonio Colonna, and the Roman Senate. An inscription posted above the main portal proclaimed that “Such thanks given by the pagan emperors for the sweet success of their campaigns rendered vainly to their idols on the Campidoglio; now, the Christian victor, rising here where the altar of peace, to the true God, Christ the Savior

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and to the glory of his mother, for the glorious victory they render religious and pious.” Mass was lead by a Franciscan Bishop who recalled the nearly 200 galleys taken by the allies, 40,000 Turkish soldiers killed, many prisoners and weapons captured, and enemy standards obtained by the Holy League. Afterward, the grand condottiere offered a gilt silver column reliquary to the “Mother of Christ the Redeemer” containing a golden crown atop the capital upon which stood a silver statue of Christ.

The triumph at Lepanto, which was portrayed by Pius V on the Aracoeli ceiling as a tangible sign of rising papal authority and prestige in international affairs since the victory had been achieved through a powerful and sovereign alliance, gave the papacy its first significant success against the pagan enemies of the Church since Antiquity. Indeed, the inscriptions adorning the Arch of Constantine for the occasion of Marcantonio Colonna’s triumphal procession celebrated the Ghislieri pope’s achievement in connection with the Christian emperor: “just as Constantine had been first among the emperors to fight under the sign of the cross against the cruelist of enemies in the name of Christianity…; Pius V was the first Roman Pontiff… to obtain the most joyous of victories against the great Turkish fleet.”

Moreover, the victory at Lepanto reinforced one of the goals of the Tridentine Council, namely, the liberation of holy places sacred to Jerusalem. References to Constantinople and Jersualem also were incorporated on the Arches of Constantine and Titus admonishing Christians to retake the city founded by Constantine and calling for Jerusalem to rejoice since “Pius V intends to liberate you.”

The Aracoeli ceiling therefore functions to memorialize the civic and ephemeral spectacle by incorporating the actual placement and movements of the participants of the procession into its artistic program. Representations of the defeated Turkish fleet with its battle standard facing toward the ground were integrated into the ceiling design no less, along with banners of the Pope, Roman Senate, and Marcantonio Colonna himself.

The ceiling, which possesses the same processional quality of an ancient triumphal arch, recreates the public spectacle and affirms the political message of triumph of Pius V.

ILLUSTRATIONS

1. Flaminio Boulangier, Nave Ceiling, S. Maria in Aracoeli, Rome, 1572-74.

2. Flaminio Boulangier, Coat of Arms of Pope Pius V, nave ceiling, S. Maria in Aracoeli, Rome, 157274.

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3. Flaminio Boulangier, Madonna and Child, nave ceiling, S. Maria in Aracoeli, Rome, 1572-74.

4. Flaminio Boulangier, Allegorical Representation of Roman Comune (SPQR), nave ceiling, S. Maria in Aracoeli, Rome, 1572-74.

5. Flaminio Boulangier, Turkish Fleet in act of Surrender, nave ceiling, S. Maria in Aracoeli, Rome, 1572-74.

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Grup de Recerca Polítiques Públiques i Regulació Econòmica Institut de Recerca en Economia Aplicada

Il dilemma tra gestione pubblica e privata dei servizi pubblici.

La riforma della riforma: oltre privatizzazione Germà Bel Universitat de Barcelona & Barcelona Graduate School of Economics

Gli effetti economici della privatizzazione locale Oltre privatizzazione: Sperimentare forme ibride di organizzazione per superare la dicotomia tra pubblico puro - pure privato

GLI EFFETTI ECONOMICI DELLA PRIVATIZZAZIONE LOCALE * Ci sono probabilmente alcuni risparmi nei momenti iniziali

della riforma (PiĂš comune nei rifiuti solidi. Meno comune nella distribuzione dell'acqua).

* Risparmi potenziali sono diluiti nel tempo. * Nelle ultime fasi della riforma: Nessuna differenza significativa dei costi di servizio pubblico tra la produzione pubblica e la produzione privata. PerchĂŠ?

GLI EFFETTI ECONOMICI DELLA PRIVATIZZAZIONE LOCALE

 Analisi econometriche, 1965-2010 . Studi in tutto il mondo

che analizzano le differenze di costo tra pubblico e privato.

Pubblicati su riviste scientifiche

Private più economico

Pubblico più economico

Simile

Acqua

3

4

10

Rifiuti solidi

6

1

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GLI EFFETTI ECONOMICI DELLA PRIVATIZZAZIONE LOCALE

a) La concorrenza per il contratto diminuisce a causa della concentrazione di mercato dei produttori privati b) La privatizzazione è un'alternativa per le amministrazioni locali: Promuove la riforma interna nei comuni che mantengono la produzione pubblica.

b.1) cooperazione intercomunale tende a crescere (realizzare economie di scala nella produzione pubblico) b.2) produzione pubblica tende ad essere fatta nel contesto del diritto privato

SPERIMENTANDO CON LE ORGANIZZAZIONI IBRIDE

ALTERNATIVE ALLA PRODUZIONE PURA PUBBLICA E ALLA PRODUZIONE PURA PRIVATA

Stati Uniti d‘America: Produzione mista pubblica-privata: puro privato e puro pubblico coesistono in una giurisdizione

Europa Continentale:

* Lasciando dietro la produzione burocratica: Le società pubbliche che operano sotto l'diritto privato * Società mista pubblico-privata: il governo e il settore privato sono comproprietari di una società (condividono i rischi ei benefici potenziali)

EFFETTI GENERALI DELLA PRIVATIZZAZIONE C'è un equilibrio con vantaggi reciproci?

Il rischio di privatizzazione incoraggia la riforma interna nei comuni che hanno mantenuto la proprietà pubblica

La persistenza della produzione pubblica è un ostacolo alla monopolizzazione del settore da parte delle imprese private

Dalla Roma antica alla città monumentale del XX secolo: il progetto per una nuova capitale imperiale Luisa Bravo (Bologna)

La struttura urbana di Roma nel corso degli anni Trenta del secolo scorso subisce una pesante trasformazione a seguito di interventi e sventramenti che mirano ad adeguare la città vecchia alle esigenze dell’età moderna. Mussolini, principale interprete di questa operazione culturale ed ideologica, veste i panni del mito di Augusto, in una sorta di continuità tra romanità e fascismo. Si assiste dunque ad una generale reinterpretazione dello spazio urbano: i monumenti diventano i protagonisti assoluti della scena, isolati ed esaltati attraverso la costruzione di cannocchiali scenografici a discapito di un tessuto edilizio antico che, seppure denso di storia e di vita umana, viene demolito perché ritenuto privo di valori architettonici, storici e ambientali. Dal primo congresso dell’Istituto di studi romani del 1928 al Piano regolatore del 1931, la costruzione del mito di Roma si avvale di interpreti e progettisti eccellenti, da Brasini a Piacentini, da Ojetti a Giovannoni, da Piccinato a Ricci, in un fermento di idee e proposte che, dagli anni Trenta fino agli anni Cinquanta e Sessanta, segneranno il destino della narrazione urbana e degli spazi pubblici della città storica.

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From ancient Rome to the 20th century monumental city: a project for the new imperial capital Luisa Bravo (Bologna)

At the end of the nineteenth century, Rome was a small town with two hundred thousand inhabitants living around the river; on the heights, fields and vineyards stretch over the path outlined by Pope Sisto V to link the basilica, where churches and monasteries, surrounded by high walls, tower over small roads, humble shacks around the docks of the princely and cardinal palaces, large empty squares, magnificent ruins next to solid hovels. Outside the ancient walls stretched the vast unhealthy region of the country.

So Antonio Munoz, in his book Rome of Mussolini, described the urban situation of the eternal City at the turn of the century, when the kingdom of Italy had been formed, with the election of King Vittorio Emanuele II in 1861. The General town plan in 1883 for the new capital of the Kingdom, was designed for a population of 425,000 inhabitants, with interventions contained within the Aurelian and papal walls. But at the end of twenty-five years of its validity, Rome had a population of more than 500,000 inhabitants who lived beyond the perimeter of the Plan.

In the following Plan of 1909, laws were enacted by Giolitti to celebrate Rome as the capital, designed for a population of just over one million inhabitants, with a projected increase of nearly half a million, acting on an area bounded by a new ring road 60 meters wide and twenty-five km long. The Plan was implemented for the celebrations of the fiftieth anniversary of the Unification of Italy in 1911.

Roma, General Town Plan, 1883 (from “Urbanistica”, n. 28-29, October 1959).

Roma, General Town Plan, 1909 (from “Urbanistica”, n. 28-29, October 1959).

When Mussolini, in October 1922, received the mandate from King Vittorio Emanuele III to form a new government, while the thirty-seventh variant of the 1909 Plan was in progress, he gave specific instructions to engineers and community leaders: “Rome cannot, must not be only a modern city, in the by now banal sense of the word, it must be a city worthy of its glory, unceasingly renovated in order to hand down, as a heritage of the fascist era, to the generations to come”. On 21 April 1924, the day of

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Rome’s birthday, the city offered the Duce, in a solemn ceremony, Roman citizenship. In his speech, Mussolini described his plan for Rome as a capital: "It is necessary to liberate the city from the mediocre disfigurements of the old Rome, and next to the ancient and medieval city it is necessary to create the monumental Rome of the twentieth century.”

So the urban intervention made by fascism in Rome began, in two different actions: the demolition in the historic centre, for the exaltation of monuments, and the creation of new settlements with public housing and health services, the so called borgate. The project of exaltation of the Roman Empire dates from the years of Pope Eugenius IV, the fifteenth century, from studies and projects of great Renaissance architects to projects of isolation of monuments, such as those created in the nineteenth century around the Pantheon, the Pincio, the Foro Traiano, the Foro Romano. In his speech for the inauguration of the new governor of the city, Mussolini declared: “In five years time Rome should appear marvellous to the whole world, vast, ordered, powerful as in the times of the first Augustan Empire. You will make space around the Augusteum, the Marcellus theatre, the Campidoglio, the Pantheon. What grew around them in the centuries of decadence must disappear. The millenary monuments of our history must tower in their necessary solitude”.

Until 1940 the work of the demolition continued without rest: in twenty years the physical aspect of so many parts of ancient Rome was completely changed. But while the monumentality of ancient Rome was enhanced, the wasteland of the campaign witnessed the dramatic increase of barracks along the main routes, the ancient vie consolari. Demolition was approved for those closest to the centre, replacing them with new neighbourhoods, such as La Garbatella, built by the Independent Institute for housing (IACP) and National Institute state employees houses (INCIS).

In 1930, under the pressure of Mussolini, the governor of Rome appointed a committee with the task of drawing the scheme for the new General town plan. The project, developed by different architects, such as Brasini, Bazzani, Piacentini and Giovannoni within six months, was approved and became law in 1932. At that time Rome included little more than a million inhabitants and the previsions of the Plan

were based on a total population of two million people.

designed by Marcello Piacentini and Attilio Spaccarelli, begins. The new path of via della Conciliazione was completed in 1950 for the Holy Year celebrations.

THE URBAN COLOSSEO/PIAZZA DELL’IMPERO

Roma, General Town Plan, 1931 (from “Urbanistica”, n. 28-29, October 1959).

THE URBAN SYSTEM OF VIA XX SETTEMBRE/VIA NAZIONALE/BORGHI

In the General Plan developed in 1873, the extension of Via Nazionale was already declared as preeminent among all roads, to which was assigned the role of connecting the old and new neighborhoods near the railway station. At the same time, the Via XX Settembre, from Quirinale Palace to Porta Pia, in the same Plan was transformed to become a road linking the old and the new city, through the construction of office buildings for Ministries headquarters and new quarters at Castro Pretorio, Viminale and Esquiline. During the fascist period the administrative role of the area around Via Nazionale and Via XX Settembre was consolidation, stressing triumphant tones and architectural monumentality.

The demolition of buildings between Castel Sant’Angelo and Piazza San Pietro, known as Spina dei Borghi, had already been approved by the City Council in 1887 with the aim of "placing greater emphasis on the first and most imposing monument in Rome, San Pietro, and to provide a more convenient road condition, as a consequence of the increase in population, the development of manufacturing and the consequent movement of trade”. In 1937 the demolition

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SYSTEM OF VENEZIA/VIA

Among the various interventions for the modernization of the Roman road system, the new connection between Piazza Venezia and the Coliseum, was certainly the most represented in propaganda images.

Demolitions, carried out during the fascist period, lad to the creation of Via dell’Impero, bringing to light the remains of the ancient Foro Romano to the detriment of the rich pre-existing urban tissue which, although full of history and human life, was destroyed because regarded as lacking architectural, historical and environmental values.

This road opened a magniloquent perspective on the Coliseum, creating an idealized specularity between Piazza Venezia, where the Duce addressed the people from his famous balcony, and the greatest of Roman monuments. At the same time the giant statue of Vittorio Emanuele II, located in the monument dedicated to him, built in the early years of the new century by architect Sacconi (1911), experienced permanent exclusion. Via dell’Impero also became the triumphant path of the fascist regime along which the forces of the new Italy warrior paraded before the Roman crowds and, through the use of propaganda newsreels, before the nation.

From Piazza Venezia, via dell’Impero opened the monumental entrance to the city from Cassia and Flaminia to Porta del Popolo, becoming the urban hub of the city.

Piazza Venezia, where the light in Mussolini’s studio was always on, served as the true heart of the city. "In the great transformation of Rome - wrote Munoz Benito Mussolini monitored, advised, commanded." Mussolini, then, was the builder of the city, as the Emperor Augustus had been before and two great popes, Leo X and Pope Sisto V, through the implementation of a cultural and ideological operation, in a sort of continuity between Roman empire and Fascist era.

THE CONNECTION BETWEEN ROME AND THE SEA: VIA IMPERIALE

After 1926 Mussolini decided to build satellite towns all over the hills between Rome and the sea. In 1928, during the First Congress of the Institute of Roman Studies, it was proposed to expand Rome towards the coastline, so that a few months later Mussolini himself celebrated the highway from Rome to the sea.

In 1937, Duce chose the area of the Tiber valley as the main venue for 1942 World Exhibition, in a sort of degradation from Rome to the Lido. The building of E42 became a chance to celebrate the twenty years of fascism in the eyes of the world, through the implementation of a new city center characterized by the monumental style proper of the Fascist era. Within the orthogonal layout based on the Roman streets “Cardo” and “Decumano”, two enormous buildings, the Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul and the Palace of Italian Civilization, were raised as a sort of modern reading of St. Peter's Basilica and the Colosseum, remodeled into a squared shape, in order to symbolize the two souls of the modern Rome, the Christian and Fascist one.

Study of access and connections to the city offered a chance to build a major road, the Via Imperiale, representing the axis which rans across the whole new urban area: on the one hand it joined the E42 to Rome, continuing from southbound to northbound through the city, on the other continued straight to Ostia Antica and the sea.

Via Imperiale was a real backbone for the new Rome, a sort of exhibition for Italian civilization, exposed along its pathway to the sea, allowing the enjoyment of monuments and squares belonging to the ancient origins of the “Urbe”.

Roma, via Imperiale (from “Architettura”, n. 12, December 1938).

THE MODERN ROME Following the example of the Romans, the great founders of the city, Mussolini built up in Italy twelve new towns, almost all of them

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predominately rural. He promised modern cities for a modern country, claiming in exchange from people the full support to the fascist revolution. The urbanism of new fascist towns (not only in Italy but overseas too) was based on the Roman orthogonal matrix while the architecture, especially in the major public buildings, was inspired by the hierarchical and authoritarian model expressed by palaces and towers belonging to the Middle Ages.

The foundation of so many cities in such a few years, within an international context dominated by a severe depression, seemed to suggest the Roman inspired fascist politics as a valid alternative model. By means of reclamations, overseas campaigns of conquest, founding of new towns, Fascist Italy seemed to show an extraordinary attitude to plan and organize, both expression of typical Roman talent.

Mussolini becomes very popular: those who had the opportunity to meet him suffer his charm, so that they judged positively his commitment for Italy, getting satisfaction or enthusiasm for the return of the Romans.

Winston Churchill declared in 1923 to see in Mussolini the expression of the "Roman genius" claiming the Duce as "the greatest living legislator".

THE PUBLIC SPACE IN THE FASCIST ERA

The years of Fascist Rome brought to the final breakage between the urban center and the suburbs. Most of the demolitions carried out in the center were included neither in 1909 Plan, nor in 1931 one, although both planned intensive clearance all over the old city.

Archaeologists did not perceive that the past has contributed to the formation of the present and therefore is irreplaceable part of culture. Due to this, they agreed to destroy the Medieval and the Renaissance city, intended as physical, social and cultural heritage of the past. It should be remarked that the aim of excavations was not showing all the Roman Forum as Caesar, Augustus, Vespasian and Trajan built them and how the Romans used them for centuries. About 85% of the Fori Imperiali area was undiscovered and still buried. In addition, the large section of Via dell’Impero broke in two pieces the single Forum context: on the one hand, the Republican Forum and the Caesar one, on the other the Nerva, Augustus, and Trajan’s Forums.

Using this approach one of the main characteristics of ancient Rome was not preserved, namely the continuity of the Forums. In addition, the massive building of monuments in the historical center expressed a clear desire for the political system to erase from the city the working classes, moving them to new settlements (borgate), allowing the downtown reuse and encouraging at the same time the growth of a middle-class and bourgeois city.

The same inconsistency can be revealed in the Piazza Venezia project: at the end of the nineteenth century the square was the natural conclusion of Via del Corso, a small area with a few houses overlooking. By successive transformations, the square becomes the traffic confluence point for the new Rome, through via Nazionale, for the Rome of the Renaissance, through Corso Vittorio Emanuele II, and for the Rome of the Baroque through the Corso. At the same time the monument dedicated to Vittorio Emanuele II immeasurably widen the square.

Roma, Piazza Venezia. (image edited by Luisa Bravo) The fascist demolition joined there two other major roads, via dell’Impero and via del Mare, which collected all the traffic coming from the southbound and south-east suburbs.

Piazza Venezia, therefore, became a collector for four roads, all of them built in half a century of demolitions, channeling traffic on Via del Corso, which is considered even today the city center.

While we cannot talk about modern Rome without referring to the Rome of Mussolini, it is equally true that in the obsessive exaltation of fascist ideology there was a lack of urban vision for the city as a whole, giving back to the XXI century Roman people powerful, symbolic landmarks

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together with an urban structure still very difficult to manage, even if a pure expression of romanità.

Bibliography ANTONIO MUNOZ, Roma di Mussolini, Treves, Milano 1935 SAVERIO MURATORI, RENATO BOLLATI, SERGIO BOLLATI, GUIDO MARINUCCI, (edited by), Studi per un’operante storia urbana di Roma, Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche, Roma 1963 LUDOVICO QUARONI, Immagine di Roma, Laterza, Bari 1969 PAOLO SICA, Storia dell’Urbanistica. Il Novecento, Volume II, Laterza, Bari 1978 ANTONIO CEDERNA, Mussolini urbanista. Lo sventramento di Roma negli anni del consenso, Laterza, Roma 1979 ESMONDE M. ROBERTSON, Mussolini fondatore dell’impero, Laterza, Roma-Bari 1979 VALTER VANNELLI, Economia dell’architettura in Roma fascista. Il centro urbano, Kappa, Roma 1981 PIERO OSTILIO ROSSI, Roma.

Guida all’architettura moderna 1909-1984, Laterza, Bari 1984 GIORGIO CIUCCI, Gli architetti e il fascismo.

Architettura e città 1922-1944, Einaudi, Torino 1989 EMILIO GENTILE, Il culto del littorio. La sacralizzazione della politica nell'Italia fascista, Laterza, Roma 1993 GIULIANO GRESLERI, PIER GIORGIO MASSARETTI, STEFANO ZAGNONI, Architettura italiana d’oltremare 1870-1940, Marsilio Venezia 1993 ITALO INSOLERA, Roma Moderna. Un secolo di storia urbanistica. 1870-1970, Einaudi, Torino 2001 MARISTELLA CASCIATO, SERGIO PORETTI (edited by), Il Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana.

Architettura e costruzione del Colosseo Quadrato, Motta, Milano 2002 LEONARDO TIBERI (edited by), La Roma di Mussolini, subject by Leonardo Ciacci, Istituto Luce, Roma 2003 [DVD] DENIS MACK SMITH, A proposito di Mussolini, Laterza, Roma- Bari 2004 BORDEN W. PAINTER JR., Mussolini’s Rome.

Rebuilding the eternal city, Palgrave Macmillan, New York 2005 MIA FULLER, Moderns abroad. Architecture, cities and Italian imperialism, Routledge, London 2007 EMILIO GENTILE, Fascismo di pietra, Laterza, Roma 2007

Da Foro Boario a Piazza Pubblica: Il Rifacimento del Foro nel Seicento Jasmine Cloud, Temple University

Storici dell’arte e archeologi si sono spesso lamentati del saccheggio del foro romano nella storia post-antica. Amanda Claridge scrive che ‘l’area ha l’aspetto di essere stata devastata da un bombardamento’ per via del depredamento rinascimentale.

Tento di andare oltre questa nozione della distruzione dell’area nella prima era moderna. E’ in questo periodo, dopo secoli di degrado, che il papato tenta di reintegrare il foro nella città stessa attraverso un processo bonificatore.

Attraverso la sua lunga storia questa zona ha funzionato quale palinsesto stratificato con nuovi significati attraverso il tempo.

Nel Cinque e Seicento il foro fu riscritto per una nuova Roma, la capitale della Chiesa Contro-Riformista.

From Cattle Market to Public Promenade: Remaking the Forum in the Seventeenth Century Jasmine Cloud, Temple University

Art historians and archaeologists have oft lamented the pillaging of the Roman Forum in its post-antique history. Amanda Claridge writes in Rome: An Oxford Archaeological Guide that “the area looks as though hit by a bomb,” due to Renaissance plundering.39 I seek to move beyond this trope of the site’s early modern destruction. It is in this period that, after centuries of decay, the papacy sought to reintegrate the Forum into the city proper through a process of reclamation. 40 Throughout its long history, the site functioned as a palimpsest, with new layers of meaning inscribed over time. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the Forum was rewritten for a new Rome, capital of the Counter-Reformation Church.

In the Renaissance (fig. 1), the Forum functioned as a liminal space: a threshold between ancient and modern, urbs and suburbs. As a public space, it was utilized by a variety of people, from the vendors who sold cattle there twice a week to the pope and curia, who continued to use the sacred structures built during the medieval period.

The deterioration of the Forum over several centuries necessitated the site’s recuperation, one that would give it new significance and incorporate it into the modern city of Rome.

The detritus of neglect, numerous earthquakes, the construction of towers and fortifications by Roman nobles, and the houses of poor squatters impeded anyone attempting to move through the space. The Cinquecento popes made small steps towards remaking the Forum, and yet they 39Amanda Claridge, Rome: An Oxford Archaeological Guide (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 65.

40See both David Karmon, “Archaeology and the Anxiety of Loss: Effacing Preservation from the History of Renaissance Rome,” American Journal of Archaeology 115 (2011): 159-74 and idem, The Ruin of the Eternal City: Antiquity and Preservation in Renaissance Rome (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011).

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did not do away with the obstruction caused by the cows and their keepers, who had occupied the site since the fifteenth century.41 In the Seicento, the Counter-Reformation revival of the city continued to impact its urban fabric. At the Forum, this meant renovations of both the physical structures of the Early Christian churches and the public space onto which they faced. However, this was not a systematic plan spearheaded by the papacy, but rather a series of discrete acts of patronage that each contributed to remaking the space.

Over the course of fifty years, several types of patrons commissioned the renovations of the seven Forum churches which existed in the seventeenth century (fig. 2). Various popes were involved in these projects, including Paul V in the remodeling of S. Francesca Romana.42 SS. Cosma e Damiano underwent restoration twice in this period, once funded by Clement VIII and later by Urban VIII.43 The latter also funded the reconstruction of the upper church at SS. Luca e Martina, although the artist Pietro da Cortona paid for that of the lower church. 44 Cardinals also commissioned renovations in the Forum churches, including Agostino Cusano at S. Adriano and Marcello Lante at S. Maria Liberatrice.45 Professional

43Guglielmo Matthiae, SS. Cosma e Damiano (Roman: Marietti, 1960).

organizations also funded the rebuilding of their churches at the site. The Congregation of the Falegnami reconstructed and rededicated the ancient church of S. Pietro in Carcere, which became S. Giuseppe de’ Falegnami.46 Finally, the Collegio degli Speziali restored the church of S. Lorenzo in Miranda within the Temple of Antoninus Pius and Faustina.47 By the time of Alexander VII’s election to the papacy in 1655, the transformation of the Forum churches had been underway for decades. Those with new façades facing the Forum brought an air of novelty to the ancient site, marking the triumph of the modern Catholic Church at a place which evoked history for both ancient pagan and Christian Rome.48 A drawing by Giuseppe Leoncini (fig. 3) shows how Alexander capitalized upon the individual projects of renovation at the Forum churches to fuse the space into a unified whole. The monuments which took precedence for Alexander were the newly renovated churches, which provided the perfect stage set for his modernization of the site. Alexander cleared out the space, making movement and access to the churches easier. The creation of a promenade between two rows of trees, which connected the two ends of the space, established the Forum as a suburban park.

With the removal of the cattle market, the Campo Vaccino became a magnificent public space which brought together the ancient ruins and the contemporary church projects.

Leoncini’s drawing renders visible the possibilities of the remade Forum, and yet also reveals the true function of the site in the 1650s. Despite the seeming emphasis on the process of beautification, Alexander’s interest remained on the function of the site for the Church. The pope sought to preserve the prominent remains of ancient Rome while restoring their functionality for the needs of the modern city and Church.

44Karl Noehles, La Chiesa dei SS. Luca e Martina nell’opera di Pietro da Cortona (Roma: Ugo Bozzi editore, 1969).

46Giuliana Zandri, S. Giuseppe dei Falegnami (Roma: Marietti, 1971).

41In his De Varietate Fortunae from the middle of the fifteenth century, Poggio Bracciolini laments that the Forum, one of the most famous places that ever existed, is now overrun with pigs. See Outi Merisalo, Poggio Bracciolini, De Varietate Fortunae. Edizione critica con introduzione e commento (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1993): 188.

42Placido Lugano, S. Maria Nova (S. Francesca Romana) (Roma: Casa Editrice, 1923).

45John Varriano, “The 1653 Restoration of S. Adriano al Foro Romano: New Documentation on Martino Longhi the Younger,” Römisches Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschichte 13 (1971): 287-296, and Ferruccio Lombardi, Roma: le chiese scomparse (Roma: Palombi, 1996): 270.

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47Ivana Ait, San Lorenzo de’ Speziali in Miranda: A.D. 1602-2002 (Roman: Delfino, 2002).

48Richard Krautheimer, The Rome of Alexander VII, 1655-1667 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985): 102.

Figures

Figure 1. Maarten van Heemskerck, View of the Forum towards the Capitoline, 1532-7

Figure 2. Detail of Tempesta Map of Rome, 1593, with seven Forum churches circled in red

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Figure 3. Giuseppe Leoncini, c. 1656, The Roman Forum with the plan of a tree-lined avenue commissioned by Alexander VII

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Spazio pubblico nella Roma tarda antica: il caso delle Thermae Imperiali Dallas DeForest, American School of Classics at Athens

Le thermae imperiali di Roma (Terme di Traiano, Diocliziano, Caracalla, ecc.) erana tra i palazzi pubblici più imponenti del primo periodo imperiale, eguagliati solo dall’anfiteatro flaiano, il Circo Massimo, e pochi templi. Le thermae furono finanziate dagli imperatori, erano aperte tutti i giorni e venivano frequentate dalle masse. Nei loro enormi spazi si erano collocate non solo le zone dei bagni, ma anche biblioteche, aule, palestre, giardini, luoghi di culto, tutto arredato in modo sfarzoso.

Nel tardo antico (300-700 DC) Roma subì una serie di trasformazioni: da una città pagana a una Cristiana, dalla capital di un impero ad una città italiana relativamente piccola, da una città antica ad una medievale. Come si trasformava la topografia, così cambiavano concetti radicati, quale lo spazio pubblico e private.

Alla fine le forze culturali ed economiche non favorirono la persistenza delle thermae. La cultura cittadina del bagno cambiava, le terme imperiali non trovarono posto nella nuova tradizione. I finanziatori delle terme, gli imperatori ed i prefetti urbani, abbandonarono la città e il loro ruolo scomparve. I vescovi che li succedevano non avevano cura per questi monumenti. Con il tempo questi luoghi potevano servire da bagno pubblico quale servizio caritatevole offerto dalla chiesa, ma in circostanze ben diverse, e con ben altro arredo materiale. E poi l’Italia non ritrovò più quell’unità economica presente sino alle Guerre Gotiche. Eppure per gran parte del tardo antico, sino ai primi anni del sesto secolo, le thermae erano parte integrante del paesaggio pubblico di Roma.

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Public Space in Late Antique Rome: The Case of the Imperial Thermae Dallas DeForest, American School of Classics at Athens

The imperial thermae of Rome (Baths of Trajan, Diocletian, Caracalla, etc.) were among the city’s grandest public buildings in the early imperial era, rivaled only by the Flavian amphitheater, the Circus Maximus, and select temples. The thermae were funded by the emperors, open daily, and utilized by the masses. In their cavernous spaces one could find not only full bathing wings, but also libraries, lecture halls,

athletic facilities, gardens, cult shrines, and lavish decoration.

During late antiquity (300-700 CE), Rome underwent a series of transformations: from a pagan to a Christian city; from the capital of an empire to a relatively small Italian town; and from an ancient to a medieval city.

Rome’s topography changed as a result, as did deeply rooted concepts of public and private space. Scholars have recognized that the process of urban change in late antiquity was complex, slow and gradual, and subject to particular local and regional circumstances, and they have pointed to numerous social, cultural, and institutional factors to explain these changes. But most today tend to understand the evolving landscape of the late Roman city through social and cultural terms, and prefer to explain the many changes we can identify in the archaeological record as the result of Christianization, new attitudes toward public space, new ideas about patronage, and new patterns of social organization.

On the whole, however, non-Christian public spaces have not been well contextualized, and this is especially true of baths. In the debates on urbanism, the nature of public space, and the privatization of late antique society, baths have played a part, though usually in simplistic ways. Yet the very fact that in this maelstrom of change baths remained the most popular form of secular, public architecture means we must begin to come to terms with their place in the landscape of public space in the late antique city. If anything, the role of the bath in the social fabric of the city only increased as older locales of public space were eliminated, transformed, or turned over for private use of some kind.

This paper approaches this topic through a look at Rome’s largest baths, the imperial thermae. It points to the broad range of functions—social, economic, cultural, and hygienic—to which these facilities catered, and speaks briefly about how they kept the baths viable in times of stress and change, and also what meanings may have been attached to the buildings by inhabitants in Rome. It argues that the thermae were public facilities that were keyed into Rome’s real and imagined landscape. They were draped in imperial and civic history and memories, catered to important hygienic and social functions, required a small army for their operation and maintenance, and were dominant features of Rome’s landscape into

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the sixth century. They are important for our understanding of the city in late antiquity— just as important as the growth of the Christian landscape, or the evolution of the forum, or the fate of the senatorial order— precisely because they united numerous functional and representational elements of public space.

Ultimately, cultural and economic forces worked against the thermae in late antiquity.

Rome’s public bathing culture was changing, and the imperial baths would not have a place in the new one which emerged. The patrons of the baths, emperors and urban prefects, left or their office disappeared, while bishops would not care for the monuments. Although they would eventually offer public bathing as an act of charity on behalf of the church it was done in decidedly different surroundings, a different material environment altogether. And Italy never recovered the economic unity it displayed before the Gothic wars. Yet for a good deal of late antiquity, into the early sixth century, the thermae were an integral element of Rome’s public landscape.

La definizione degli spazi lungo Via del Corso nella Roma farnesiana.

Antonella De Michelis, University of California

La via del Corso era unica nella Roma rinascimentale. Entrando nella città papalina si accoglievano i visitatori con una insolita esperienza, dove le Mura Aureliane non definivano l’abitato o il nucleo urbanizzato. Tuttavia agli inizi del Cinquecento la città cresceva ed i confini si trasformavano.

Questo intervento esamina l‘impatto profondo del pontificato dei farnesi sulla crescita dell’abitato, esaminando il ruolo svolto da Via del Corso in tale processo, ed in particolare i luoghi pubblici da essa interconnesse nella ridefinizione della mappa politica della città attraverso la celebrazione e la rappresentazione.

Centrale nella strategia urbana di Paolo III era lo sviluppo del Campidoglio, un sviluppo che comprendeva Via del Corso.

Tale legame con il centro civico della città, la sede del Popolo Romano era critico della politica pro-romana del pontefice. Alla fine la rigenerazione urbana assolveva a fini sia politici che pratici. Il risultato alla fine del regno farnese, ed agli inizi del Giubileo del 1550, fu un sistema stradario che veicolava sia i movimenti che i significati urbani.

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Defining Spaces along Via del Corso in Farnese Rome Antonella De Michelis, University of California

The Via del Corso was a unique road in Renaissance Rome. Visitors entering the papal city were welcomed with the unusual experience where the Aurelian Walls did not delineate the abitato or urbanized city; however, beginning in the fifteenth century boundaries were changing and the city was growing.

This paper investigates the profound impact the Farnese pontificate had on the expansion of the abitato; examines the role played by Via del Corso in this process and, importantly, the public spaces this road connects in redefining the political map of the city through pomp and pageantry.

Processions reveal interaction with the city, in particular how their carefully planned routes drew meaning from specific buildings and public spaces. Paul III’s interest in the area around Palazzo San Marco (today Palazzo Venezia) was made clear during the Pope’s possesso, the inaugural procession which defined the pope’s relationship with both the physical and political spheres of the city. Paul III politicized the procession through key changes to the route: on the way to the Lateran, Paul III deliberately stopped

at S. Maria sopra Minerva to celebrate Mass, then, on his return chose to end the festivities at Palazzo San Marco instead of travelling back to St. Peter’s. These changes associated Palazzo San Marco with the Farnese pope; a connection strengthened just days later when Paul III announced he would take up residence at the palace from the feast day of St. Mark.24 The complex of San Marco as a key landmark in the political topography of the city was similarly reinforced by three triumphal entries during Paul III’s reign: Emperor Charles V’s in 1536 after his victory in Tunis, and in 1538, that of the pope returning in political triumph after negotiating the Treaty of Nice, and that of Marghertia of Austria entering the papal city on the occasion of her nuptials with Ottavio Farnese.

Palazzo San Marco was ideally situated along the Via Papalis and at the south end of the Via del Corso; therefore, interventions to the Corso must be examined as part of the development of the ‘San Marco Complex’. 25 [fig. 2] In terms of planning, the heart of the complex was Piazza della Conca di San Marco, and expansion of the complex began soon after Paul III’s election with the widening of this piazza followed by the construction of a bridge connecting the southeast corner of the Palazzetto San Marco with a fortified villa-tower on the northeastern slope of the Campidoglio Hill.

What once represented the medieval edge of the city, was now a major hub.

Nowhere in the city was the process of urbanization more keenly felt than in Campus Martius. The backbone of its development was Via del Corso: the central axis of the Popolo Trident, the most innovative contribution made during the Farnese pontificate to urban design. With the completion of Via Paolina Trifaria (today Via del Babuino) in 1536, the Popolo Trident efficiently re-organized traffic and provided a rational, ordered approach to the city. This

street system is further embedded within Rome’s urban fabric with the projects of Via Trinitatis and Via Montecitorio. At first glance these may seem like different interventions. The former a great east-west axis extending from the church of Trinità dei Monti to Piazza Nicosia; the latter, a short, unassuming cross-street at Piazza Colonna.

However, they both importantly intersect different points of the Popolo Trident, and effectively link Campus Martius to both the financial area of the Banchi – where a second trident was under construction – and Ponte Sant’Angelo, the gateway to the Borgo.

Paul III died only weeks before the Holy Year of 1550, an event long associated with urban renewal. In his funeral oration, Romolo Amaseo celebrated the Farnese pope as a ‘restorer of the city’ and prized above all else these efforts that delivered Rome from “ruin”, and left behind a Rome “solid and renewed for a long time”. 26 While Amaseo’s rhetoric draws attention to the merit of these good works as magnanimous expressions of Paul III’s love for his beloved Rome, the opening of streets and piazze were undeniably expressions of power. Central to Paul III’s urban strategy was the development of the Campidoglio, which included Via del Corso; it is this bond to the city’s civic center, the seat of the Popolo Romano that was crucial to Paul III's proRoman politics. Ultimately, urban renewal served both political and practical agendas.

The outcome, at the eve of the Farnese reign and the 1550 Jubilee, was a street system that successfully facilitated both meaning and movement.

24L. Pastor, The History of the Popes from the Close of the Middle Ages (St. Louis, 1977), vol. 12, 583 n1.

25M.L. Casanova Uccella, Palazzo Venezia.

Paolo II e le fabbriche di San Marco (Rome, 1980), 111-74, A. De Michelis, ‘Villegiatura in the urban context of Renaissance Rome: Paul III’s Farnese’s villa-tower on the Campidoglio’, in A. Ballantyne ed., Rural and Urban (London, New York, 2010), 28-41.

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26L. Spezzaferro and R.J. Tuttle, ‘Place Farnèse: urbanisme et politique’, in Le Palais Farnèse (Rome, 1981), vol. 1, 105 n94.

Lo spazio pubblico quale desiderio, sogno, e storia: Freud e Roma Paola Di Cori (Roma)

Negli ultimi vent’ani sono stati pubblicati innumerevoli libri e saggi sull’amore per l’Italia, e Roma in particolare, che accompagnava per tutta la vita Sigmund Freud. Tali pubblicazioni s’incentrano su questa passione, e come ciò influenzava le origini dello psicanalisi. In particolare tali studi s’incentrano sul rapporto che Freud stabiliva tra l’arte italiana, il paesaggio e la fotografia, quali elementi chiavi nelle origini dello psicanalisi.

L’Italia e Roma vengono visiti come fonti permanenti di ispirazione e riflessione.

Qui si sofferma l’attenzione sui vari studi che riguardano l’interesse che Freud coltivava per l’archeologia, in particolare sulla sua spettacolare collezione di oggetti antichi che si possono ancora ammirare nella casa londinese di Freud.

La maggior parte di questi oggetti provenivano dalla Grecia, l’Egitto, l’Asia, e naturalmente da Roma.

Quando scrisse nel 1930 il libro La Civiltà ed i suoi Scontenti, Freud inizio con diverse pagine dedicate alla similitudine tra il funzionamento della mente umana e la città di Roma. Eppure, scriveva, ‘la spazialità nega la possibilità di coesistenza nelle stesso spazio,’ lo si può solo immaginare.

A questo aggiunge: cosa può trovare un visitatore moderno di tutte queste strutture antiche? La maggior parte sono state distrutte, palazzi e templi demoliti e ricostruiti. Ma molte cose rimangono disseminate sotto la città moderna. Non potremo mai vedere la città nella sua evoluzione cronologica: la pietra più antica è sepolta o confusa con quella contemporanea. La stessa accade con la mente umana, dove la legge impone la conservazione del passato, non la sua cesura.

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Public space as desire, dream and history: Freud and Rome Paola Di Cori (Rome)

In the last twenty years or so, a great number of books and essays have been published on the subject of Sigmund Freud’s lifelong love for Italy – and for Rome in particular. All of them deal with various aspects of this passion and how it affected and influenced the origins of psychoanalysis. These studies focused mainly on the relationship that Freud established between the Italian art, landscape and photography as key elements at the origins of psychoanalysis. Italy and Rome are seen as a permanent source of inspiration and reflection.

In addition, I would like to mention the numerous studies concerning Freud’s interest for archaeology, mainly dealing with his spectacular collection of antiquities that one can admire in Freud’s house in London.

Most of the antiques came from Greece, Egypt, Asia, and of course from Rome.

As it is known, the importance of this collection is well documented by the photographs that Engelman took in 1938.

Just before Freud left Vienna and went to London, the engineer and photographer Edmund Engelman was asked to take pictures of Freud’s office and antiques collection. The collection was made up of thousands of objects of all kinds: small sculptures, jewels, religious emblems, coins, arms, gods and goddesses from the ancient world. Many of them literally paraded on the desk of the father of psychoanalysis; they filled the cabinets and furniture along the walls and were spread in many other rooms of the house. The greater part of the collection was located in the consulting room and in Freud’s study. The two rooms were contiguous. Freud wanted to have the beloved treasure under his eyes while he was working. His letters are filled with comments about one or the other piece that he proudly added to the collection.

The antiquarian mania was fuelled during the frequent stays abroad. From 1895 till 1923 he made 12 travels to Italy, and he visited Rome 7 times; in one occasion he remained two entire weeks in the city.

During his 1913 visit, he went every day to the church of San Pietro in Vincoli, standing for hours in front of the statue of Moses by Michelangelo. This sculpture was a haunting presence for many decades in Freud’s life.

More than 25 years later, while Nazism was

banging at his door, he wrote his last important work – Moses and Monoteism – in which the 83 years old Freud tried to handle the tormented question of Jewish identity.

Going through Freud’s biography and numerous letters, one has the impression that he lived a double life: one experienced in his study in Vienna, the other while visiting Italy.

It is a fact that the deep artistic and urban transformation of Vienna between the last decades of 19th century and the beginning of the 20th was totally indifferent to Freud. He showed no interest in the Sezession movement; and while Adolf Loos and his friends emptied the interior of the houses they were designing and decorating, Freud chose instead to have his own house invaded and literally flooded by objects from prehistorical and ancient times.

Different conceptions of modernity were at stake here. For both - Loos and Freud – modernity coincided with new ways of experiencing intimacy and inner life on the one hand, and looking at the world outside on the other.

For architects of modernity it was essential to show a break with the tradition. On the contrary, for Freud, intimacy was full of images and archaeological findings from the past. Memory was an essential tool to lay the foundations of the great scientific revolution represented by psychoanalysis. The past was not only a domineering presence in his home, it literally seemed to invade the domestic space; it was a sort of wall against the modernity of the outside.

Yet, Freud did not want to stay permanently in his stuffy rooms; he was very fond of travels. While he was abroad, he experienced the exhilaration of open spaces, perceived as the realization of inner emotions. Rome in particular was the city where dreams and desires found an ideal location.

While in Rome, Freud was not only able to sink his home town, the language and the people of Vienna, into total oblivion, importantly he could live the unique experience of being in a place where different temporal layers coexisted: the ancient, the medieval, the Renaissance and baroque, the contemporary. Being in Rome one felt that a peculiar synchronicity occurred; and also that it was easy to forget everything else. Memory and oblivion could be experienced together; one did not erase nor cancel the other.

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At the end of his Practice of Everyday Life, Michel de Certeau reminds us that for Freud Rome was the city “whose epochs all survive in the same place, intact and mutually interacting”. The functioning of Rome resembles the work of the unconscious, in which the past continuously returns in the present.

Writing in 1930 Civilization and its Discontents, Freud began the book with several pages on the similarity between the functioning of human psyche and the city of Rome. In both cases there is an interaction of stratified structures within the same area; as de Certeau put it, it is “a diachrony within synchrony.”

Yet, “spatiality forbids coexistence in the same place”, we can only imagine it - Freud writes.

And he adds: what can a contemporary visitor to the city find in it of all this ancient structures? Most of it has been destroyed, buildings and temples demolished and reconstructed, but many things remain disseminated underground in the modern city. We can never see the city in its chronological development: the most ancient stone is buried or mingled with the contemporary. The same happens with the human mind, where the prevailing law is the preservation of the past, not its erasure.

SCORCIATOIE. Osservazioni sulla formazione delle strade medievali a Roma.

Jan Gadeyne, Cornell University

Dalla fine dell’antichità in poi il paesaggio urbano del Campo Marzio a Roma subì una radicale trasformazione.

Uno degli aspetti più significativi di questa trasformazione è la formazione della rete stradale medievale. La sua origine può essere spiegata dalla frammentazione dei grandi complessi pubblici di epoca romana, quale p.e. il Portico d’Ottavia, le Terme Neroniane o lo Stadio di Domiziano. Dopo il loro abbandono questi complessi andarono lentamente disintegrandosi. Si aprirono così dei varchi all’interno dei fabbricati che permettevano agli abitanti di raggiungere più direttamente (e velocemente) le loro destinazioni al di là di essi. La presenza di resti considerevoli degli antichi complessi costringeva comunque spesso gli utenti di dover raggirarli o di cambiare radicalmente rotta. Il tutto portava alla creazione di nuovi tracciati, scorciatoie, con il loro andamento tipicamente curvoso e irregolare che si fondevano in un dedalo di vicoli e stradine tipici del paesaggio urbano medievale. Da punto di vista archeologico è stata possibile ricostruire la nascita della via delle Botteghe Oscure come esempio di una scorciatoia che permetteva di collegare più facilmente la zona dei templi di largo Argentina con il Campidoglio.

SHORT CUTS. Observations on the formation of the medieval street system in Rome.

Jan Gadeyne, Cornell University

From the mid-republican age onwards, the Field of Mars had developed into the second monumental centre of Rome with a variety of public building complexes from temples to baths to theatres, etc. laid out on a northsouth, east-west axis in its centre and on a north-west south-east axis in its southern part. At its fringes, especially along the river, stood more utilitarian structures, such as warehouses and workshops, with the upper levels of the buildings used as apartments. 12 The field of Mars maintained its original urban identity well into late antiquity although imperial legislation took measures against the (random?) construction of houses and cottages in the area.13 The Christianisation of the urban landscape, well visible in other parts of the city, was limited.

Only one title church was built in the heart of the Field of Mars while two others because of their location gravitated more towards the via del Corso.14 12For a general overview of the urban development and topography of the Field of Mars, see LTUR I 1993, s.v. Campus Martius, p. 220-224 (T.P. Wiseman).

13CTh. 14, 4, 10.

14A summary of the development of the title churches in Rome, amongst which those in the Field of Mars, can be found in FIOCCHI NICOLAI 2001, pp. 59-61, 93-105.

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The urban fabric of the Field of Mars changed dramatically during the early Middle Ages. In general, the ancient building complexes were either used as quarries and part of their building materials burned to make lime in one of the numerous lime kilns that operated in the area or they were reused with a different function, either as a religious, military or residential building.15 An important characteristic of this transformation of the urban landscape in the Field of Mars was its fragmentation into small spatial units crisscrossed by a maze of small winding streets that seek the shortest way possible to get from one part in the area to another disregarding the rigid and closed design of the pre-existing building or complex. The contrast between the homogeneity and compactness of the ancient building complexes and the fragmentation of the medieval urban space that replaced them is the point from where a reconstruction of the making of the medieval street system must be started.16 One can basically distinguish between three major ways by which the medieval street system developed. The first is the breaking up and fragmentation of a large building complex into smaller pieces, separated by small winding streets that like shortcuts search their way between the major components of the complex. A prime example of this type is the Porticus Octavia (fig. 1,3) in the southern Field of Mars where the streets that cross the area of the former building complex perfectly pass between the massive remains of the two temples that dominated the space within the porticus.17

15The formation of the urban landscape of the Field of Mars has been brilliantly illustrated by the excavations in the Crypta Balbi and the numerous publications that have followed. For a synthesis, see: MENEGHINI, SANTANGELO VALENZANI 2004, p. 200205 and passim.

16ESCH A., Straßenzustand und Verkehr in Stadtgebiet und Umgebung Roms in Ümgebung Roms in Übergang von der Spätantike zum Frühmittelalter (5.-8. Jh.) in MERTENS 2008, p. 213-237.

17Another example of this type of development is the Porticus and temple of Hadrian (fig. 1, 31).

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The second way by which a typical medieval street system came about is represented by the baths of Nero (fig. 1,20) located in the central Field of Mars. In this case we are dealing with a single building composed of few open spaces and numerous closed rooms. A legal document of the late 10th cent. perfectly describes the fragmented state of the baths, now composed of “(...) criptis, hortis, terris cultis et incultis, arcis, columnis et oratorio Salvatoris infra se, vel cum omnibus ad eas pertinentibus (...)”.18 There is no doubt that all these different elements were connected to each other and that they could be reached by several shortcuts, the forerunners of the present street system between the Pantheon and the Stadium of Domitian.19 The transformation of the latter ancient building complex constitutes the third way by which the medieval street system was formed. (fig. 1,19) It is at the same time similar to that of the Porticus of Octavia as well as of the Baths of Nero. Yet the final outcome of the process is different in the way the general plan of the ancient building can still be recognized today, notwithstanding the cavea is now entirely built up and many small streets cut across the ancient structure.20 There can be no doubt that the origin of these shortcuts can be traced back to the post-Roman period when the building had gone out of use and the process of fragmentation had started.

Archaeological work of the last 25 years has clarified tremendously the dynamics of the transformation of the urban landscape in the Field of Mars.21 It has occasionally also been able to reconstruct step by step the becoming of such a shortcut, for instance of the via delle Botteghe Oscure between largo Argentina and the Capitoline hill.22 The 18PANI ERMINI Letizia, L’assetto medievale: i segni della memoria, in: CIMINO Maria Gabriella, NOTA SANTI 1998, p. 46.

19The baths of Agrippa (fig. 1, 24) underwent a similar transformation.

20Another prime example is the theatre of Pompey (fig. 1, 23).

21see above n. 4.

22MANACORDA D., ZANINI E., The First Millenium A.D. in Rome. From the Porticus Minucia to the via delle Botteghe Oscure, in: RANDSBORG K. 1989, p. 25-32.

street started out as an improvised, narrow path made of compacted earth. It gradually replaced the southern wing of the Porticus Minucia Frumentaria that surrounded the temple of the Nymphs. (fig. 1,30) By the 13th-14th cent. the course of the new street had been consolidated as illustrated by the construction of stone houses along it.

Between late antiquity and the early middle ages most monumental building complexes in the Field of Mars were gradually transformed from a large public space into

an intricate web of small public and private elements. The twisting, winding nature of the medieval street system that passed through the new urban landscape was the result of a typically human tendency to take the shortest way possible between point A and B and thus create a system of shortcuts that represents until the present day one of the most characteristic features of the urban landscape in the Field of Mars in Rome.

Fig. 1. The field of Mars (from: CIMINO, NOTA SANTI 1998, p. 114-115).

Bibliography.

CIMINO, NOTA SANTI 1998 = CIMINO M.G., NOTA SANTI M. (edd.), Corso Vittorio Emanuele II tra urbanistica e archeologia.

Storia di uno sventramento, Napoli, 1998.

MERTENS 2004 = MERTENS D. (ed.), Stadtverkehr in der antiken Welt. Internationaler Kolloquium zur 175-Jahrfeier des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts Rom, 21. bis 23. April 2004, (Palilia, 18), Wiesbaden, 2008.

FIOCCHI NICOLAI 2001 = FIOCCHI NICOLAI V., Strutture funerarie ed edifici di

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culto paleocristiani di Roma dal IV al VI secolo, (Studie e Ricerche, 3), Città del Vaticano, 2001.

LTUR I 1993= Lexicon Topographicum Urbis Romae, vol. I, Roma, 1993.

RANDSBORG 1989 = RANDSBORG K. (ed.), The Birth of Europe. Archaeology and Social Development in the First Millenium A.D., Rome, 1989.

MENEGHINI, SANTANGELO VALENZANI 2004 = MENEGHINI R., SANTANGELO VALENZANI R., Roma nell’alto medioevo.

Topografia e urbanistica della città dal V al X secolo, Roma, 2004.

Commercio e lo spazio pubblico nella Roma Antica Claire Holleran, University of Liverpool

Il commercio era caratteristica della Roma antica, e una delle manifestazioni più visibili della economia urbana, con lo svolgimento di molte attività commerciali direttamente in strade, e tra le colonne e le loggia che fronteggiavano i palazzi.

Tali spazi rappresentavano l’incontro tra lo spazio pubblico e quello privato a Roma, ed erano l’arena in cui gran parte del discorso sociale ed economico della città prendeva corpo. Data la notevole densità demografica, e l’affollamento abitativo in cui viveva gran parte della popolazione, molte abitazioni erano dei luoghi dove dormire e trovare rifugio.

Era nella strade, e le annesse strutture architettoniche, insieme ad altri luoghi pubblici, che la gente viveva, s’incontrava, si frequentava, mangiava.

Per molti, questi erano spazi dove svolgere un’attività lavorativa.

Questo intervento si occupa delle varie attività commerciali che venivano svolte in queste aree pubbliche.

Commerce and Public Space in Rome Claire Holleran, University of Liverpool

Commerce was one of the defining characteristics of ancient Rome and one of the most visible manifestations of the urban economy, with much commerce taking place in the streets, and in the colonnades and arcades that lined the front of many buildings.

These spaces were at the intersection between public and private space in Rome, and were the arena for much of the social and economic discourse that took place in the city. Indeed, given the high population density and the consequent crowded housing experienced by much of the populace of Rome, many homes were probably used primarily as a place to sleep and to take shelter; it was in the streets, colonnades, and arcades, together with other public spaces, that people lived, socialised, and took their meals. For many, these were also the spaces in which they earned their livelihoods, and this paper was concerned with the various commercial activities that took place in these public areas.

Barbers, for example, required little more than their tools, a stool, and access to water in order to practice their trade, and could be found working in public spaces. The practice of shaving customers outside was not, however, without its dangers, leading Ulpian to speculate as to who was to blame if a ball knocked the hands of a barber, causing him to cut the throat of his customer.1 Teachers also held classes in the open air, teaching on the streets from the early hours and apparently disturbing the sleep of local 1Ulp. Dig. 9.2.11.pr.

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residents.2 Street philosophers also charged for their teachings, and were joined by entertainers, such as jugglers, swordswallowers, fire-eaters, and snake exhibitors, who looked to derive an income from loiterers and passers-by.3 Fortune tellers and dream interpreters worked on the streets of the city,4 and prostitutes of both sexes plied their trade at the crossroads and in the alleyways.5 There were also beggars, many of whom may have been physically disabled and thus unable to support themselves in any other way.6 Others survived through theft; ‘pickpocketing’ was probably common in the crowds of Rome, while street crime was a particular danger at night.7 One of the most common ways of making money on the streets and in the public spaces of Rome, however, was through buying and selling. Indeed, this paper contended that street traders were a fundamental part of Roman street life and a ubiquitous presence in the city, enabling the distribution of goods and providing employment for many. For women in particular, who may have had to look after children as they worked, street trading and hawking would have been one of the most accessible ways of earning a living.

A wide variety of goods were sold in the streets of Rome, but the sale of food, including both raw and prepared items such as bread, pastries, cooked sausages, chickpea dishes and the like, dominates our literary and visual sources.8 The cries of these street

traders and hawkers would have been a commonplace noise in the city, as vendors competed with each other to sell their wares.9 Commercial units also spilled out over their thresholds into the streets, colonnades, and arcades, prompting legislation to be enacted in the first and the second centuries to attempt to keep commerce within clearly-defined boundaries, and to ensure that the thoroughfares of Rome remained passable.10 This legislation suggests a concern on the part of the Roman authorities to control space in the city, but this paper argued that there is little evidence for the consistent regulation of street traders and hawkers in Rome. It was suggested that such matters were probably under the jurisdiction of the aediles in the Republic, before passing into the hands of the urban prefect at some point in the imperial period, but it is likely that in practice, the mobility of hawkers, and the temporary nature of many street stalls made such traders difficult to control and regulate across the city as a whole. Indeed, despite the concern of the authorities to ensure that the streets of Rome were clean, wellmaintained, and passable,11 the streets that emerge from ancient literature are not the ordered spaces that surviving traces of legislation might imply; rather this paper demonstrated that these spaces were noisy, crowded, and often dirty, but were central to the social and economic lives of the inhabitants of the city.

2Mart. 9.68.1-4; 12.57.4-5.

3Manil. 5. 168-71; Sen. Ben. 6.11.2; Ep. 29.7.1; Mart. 1.41.7; Celsus 5.27.3c; Apul.

Met. 1.4; Tert. Apol. 23.1; De praescr. Haeret 43.1.; Paul. dig. 47.11.11.pr. 1.

4Plaut. Mil. 692-94; Cic. Div. 1.132; Hor. Sat. 1.6.113-14; Juv. 6.542-7; 6.588-90; Artem. 1 pr.

5Hor. Carm. 1.25.10; Prop. 4.7.19.

6Sen. De Vita Beata 25.1; Mart. 10.5.3; 12.32.25; Dio Chrys. Or. 32.9; Juv. 3.15-16; 5.8; 14.134; Apul. Met. 1.6.1-2; Lucian Cyn. 1.

7Pickpockets (saccularii and derectarii): Ulp. Dig. 47.11.7; 47.18.1.2. Street crime: Plaut.

Amph. 153-64; Tib. 1.2.25-8; Prop. 3.16; Juv. 3.278-311; 10.19-22.

8Food vendors: Plaut. Capt. 813-16; Lucil, 5.221-2; Cic. Div. 2.84; Hor. Sat. 1.6.111-12;

9

Sen. Ep. 56.2; Calp. Ecl. 4.25-26; 5.97; Petron.

Sat. 6-7; Mart. 1.41.5-10; Ulp. Dig. 14.3.5.9.

Visual representations include a sarcophagus from Narbonne showing an ambulant fruit seller, and reliefs of the stall of a vegetable vendor and a poultry vendor from Ostia.

9 See, for example, Cic. Div. 2.84; Sen. Ep. 56.2; Mart. 1.41.5-10; Calp. Sic. Ecl. 4.25-26.

10Mart. 7.61; Papin. Dig. 43.10.1.3-5.

11As demonstrated by Jeremy Hartnett’s paper, ‘Legal Prescriptions, Social Ideals, and Public Space in Ancient Rome: The Case of the Tabula Heracleensis’.

La Loggia della Benedizione presso la chiesa di San Pietro nel Quattrocento e la visualizzazione del potere.

Ioana Jimborean, University of Karlsruhe

Il motivo architettonico della loggia viene resuscitato nell’architettura della prima era moderna, e diventa parte integrante delle corti principesche italiane. Prima, le loggie esistevano come corte forense nelle residenze aristocratiche italiane a Firenze e Genoa, senza una funzione di rappresentanza.

Verso il 1450 la loggia diventa in via crescente uno strumento nella dimostrazione del potere con un carattere emblematico.

Quale citazione dell’antichità classica rappresenta il sovrano in quanto espressione legittima del potere e umanista istruito. Nel momento in cui la loggia viene inserita nella facciata di una residenza principesca essa diventa il punto focale.

Nella basilica di San Pietro la Loggia ha una funzione pubblica, personalizzata sulla figura del papa. L’arcata definisce uno spazio in cui la figura del papa è al centro dell’attenzione.

Questa visualizzazione è resa drammatica con l’utilizzo della forma architettonica quale palcoscenico tra il pubblico di pellegrini e il corpo della chiesa.

The Loggia of Benediction at St. Peter‘s in the Quattrocento and the Visualization of Power Ioana Jimborean, University of Karlsruhe

Introduction The architectural motif of the “loggia” is revived in the early modern and becomes integral part of Italian princely courts. Prior to then, loggias exist as local legal courts in the residences of Italian aristocrats in Florence and Genoa and do not normally serve a representative function.

Around 1450, the loggia becomes increasingly an instrument of demonstration of power with emblematic character. As a citation from Classical Antiquity it represents the ruler as the legitimate potentate and as an erudite humanist.

Introduced into the façade of the princely residence the representative loggia becomes the main focus.

The Benediction Loggia at St. Peter's planned and erected by Pope Pius II Piccolomini between 1460 and 1464 is a hybrid form taking up a range of most distinctive precursors.

The immediate archetype in function and meaning is the loggia of benediction of Pope Boniface VIII in the Lateran palace in

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occasion of the Jubilee of 1300. This first attempt of an open representative frame means a paradigm shift in ecclesiastic architecture in so far as it combines practicality with political implications and aesthetic innovations. The presence of the pope among pilgrims is of crucial meaning.

Up to the 15th century the popes live retreated, although the people of Rome wish at all times to see the pontiff. Thus the moment of the public blessing remains one of the few moments of appearance.

As a monument with public function the loggia is personalized by being reserved to the figure of the pope. The framing arcade emphasizes his figure as the centre of attention. This visualization is dramatized by the architectural form as a representative stage between the audience of pilgrims and the body of the church: “il luogo di esposizione era l'elemento essenziale del monumentum conspicuum, il monumento visibile da lontano� (Ingo Herklotz).

The loggia is a new interpretation of the motif of the imperial canopy, symbol of imperial power, which can be found on the relief of the Obelisk of Theodosius in Constantinople.

Implying the same dignifying tradition as its medieval model, the Renaissance loggia of Pius II lines up among the politically most pregnant architectural codes.

Therefore this architectural structure is not an annexe any more but eminent in the selfimage of the pope. It concentrates the attention of the public to the figure of the pontiff and frames him both as follower of the great Roman emperor and as Vicar of Christ being entitled of imparting absolution.

THE PROJECT OF PIUS II PICCOLOMINI Pope Pius II Piccolomini is elected pope in summer 1458. After the council meetings in Mantua the pope's main ambition around 1460 is the modernization of St. Peter's square.

By that time the square is already a wide estuary for access roads from all directions without imposing an axial system to these streets. Meanwhile it serves as vestibule to both St. Peter's church and Vatican palace, in such manner that there is no visual emphasis or canalisation towards neither of the both buildings. The stairway to the atrium of the church lies not even symmetrically to the complex but tends towards the entrance of the palace.

The square is populated by pilgrims but in equal share by clergymen, merchants,

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soldiers and artisans. The popes in the succession of Boniface VIII continue to build loggias, more modest in shape and program, but nevertheless as an answer to the "awaking piety of the people". A wooden loggia with ephemeral character rises until 1460 above the square.

Furthermore the arrival of the relic of the head of Saint Andrew 1462 to Rome is the most grandiose celebration in the pontificate of Pius II. When the Despot of the Peloponnesus Thomas Palaiologos has to flee from the invasion of the Ottomans, the pope invites him to Rome and offers to protect the relic next to the remains of St. Peter. The translation from the fortress of Nepi to Rome takes place in the Easter week of 1462 at the Ponte Milvio and is followed by a procession to St. Peter where the pope gives absolution to the crowd. This event is one of the motivations of the large project at St. Peter's.

Structure The project extends from 1460 to 1462 under the design and supervision of Francesco del Borgo. The project comprises the evening of the slight slope, the reconstruction and enlargement of the marble flight of stairs, the rise of the statues of the apostles Peter and Paul above the stair strings, the renovation of the platform above the steps and the building of the benediction loggia itself. The elevated position of the pope above the ensemble of the apostles Peter and Paul results visually in the image of an incontestable trias, which puts the pope in the succession of the apostle not only by tradition but in an unshakeable display.

The effect of the benediction loggia can be visualized when considering its planned scale, i.e. the number of bays and of storeys.

Begun at the Northern edge of the atrium the construction is progressing towards South.

By 1464 three bays are already standing, a fourth is in construction and the foundations and pedestals for further three piers are set, which can be observed on the 1535 veduta of Marten van Heemskerck. The number of seven bays would correspond to the width of the renovated stairway and would result in an overall symmetrical composition even if it would not have covered the entire span of the body of the atrium and of the church.

Frommel assumes that Pius might have planned up to eleven bays which would have meant a second enlargement of the stairway

but a complete correspondence to the width of the church and to the Southern limit of the square marked by the ingress of the main access road, the Borgo Vecchio. His theoretical considerations are confirmed by inventories from 1463 documenting the transport of at least eleven antique column shafts from the Portico d'Ottavia and of nine smaller columns from San Giovanni in Laterano.

Hannes Roser however considers that the reconstruction should not be argued counting the column shafts but rather the foundation pedestals for the piers corresponding to the width of the stairway. In the case of seven bays, the loggia would have had a central pole in the Campanile and the Vatican Palace would not have been optically completely marginalized.

The outer structure of the loggia results from arcuated piers in white marble faced by freestanding columns in red granite with capitals of the Composite order. The inner structure repeats the outer order, pilasters replacing the columns.

In elevation Pius II has planned only one superposition of arcades, which is to be realized after his death by Paul II Barbo who duplicates the four existing bays in the height. A third story slightly lower than the arcades beneath is eventually built by Bramante in 1505, who wishes to complete the loggia according to the plan of Pius II. The Theatre Motif The structure of the loggia itself quotes the "most impressive motif of the ancient Roman architecture: the Colosseum or theatre motif". Features are the combination of the Roman arcade on piers with the most admired Greek order of trabeated columns.

At first sight the theatre motif is the most evident model for the loggia, as it uses the same height and width for all arcades.

The Loggia as a Triumphal Monument Hannes Roser further distinguishes analogies between the design of the loggia and that of Roman triumphal arches. The most evident parallels are structural: the combination of arcuated piers and trabeated columns, the free-standing columns facing piers, the rich decoration in reliefs and statues mostly on the entablature and the variety of materials.

"The reddish columns, however, contrasted significantly with the white pillars. The use of different kinds of marble, and the fact that the columns were mostly free-standing can

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be seen as an imitation of a triumphal arch. [...] it is possible that the four large reliefs for the high altar of Old St. Peter's by Paolo Romano and his workshop originally were meant for the loggia, possibly as balustrades at the arcades on the upper floor. Thus, the resemblance to a triumphal arch would have been even stronger." (Roser 2006) Paolo Romano, who had previously been conducting with Francesco Laurana the sculptural decorations of the triumphal arch of the Castelnuovo in Naples and is thus a messenger of key ideas, completes the reliefs during the pontificates of Paul II and of Sixtus IV. They are primarily considered as part of the high altar ciborium renewed during the pontificate of Sixtus IV but Roser considers that the marble stones transferred 1467 from the platea of St. Peter's square to the high altar are in fact the relief plates which had been previously begun for the loggia of benediction.

Among the themes of the four reliefs are the depiction of both Apostles Peter and Paul corresponding thematically with the program recurrent in the bronze doors of St. Peter's executed by Filarete around 1444 and with the pendant figures erected on the stair strings. Thematically the original placement of the reliefs on the loggia is more plausible than on the ciborium as it completes the overall program based on the images of both Roman apostles. A scene depicting St. Paul on the high altar above the tomb of St. Peter is possible but not in such immediate coherence. It can be assumed that originally a complete cycle would have been planned in order to fit in the series of the bays in construction.

Frommel agrees with this parallelism and characterizes the design of the loggia as a "synthesis of both types: the association of the monumentality of the Colosseum with the splendour of the Arch of Constantine".

Architectural elements suggest therefore the form of the triumphal monument itself, while the political implications on the other hand recall the messages of victory and of glorious return.

Images

1. Marten van Heemskerck, Benediction Loggia at the Lateran Palace, Drawing from Roman Sketchbook, 1532/36, Kupferstichkabinett, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin

2. Marten van Heemskerck, St. Peter's square towards the west, 1535, Vienna, Albertina

3. Ambrogio Brambilla, Beneditione del Pontifice nela Piaza de Santo Pietro, 1567, Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung

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4. Reconstruction proposal for the plan of the project of Pius II for St. Peter's square with benediction loggia and modified stairway, in. C. L. Frommel, Francesco del Borgo: Architekt Pius' II und Pauls II, I: Der Petersplatz und weitere rรถmische Bauten Pius' II Piccolomini, in: Rรถmisches Jahrbuch der Bibliotheca Hertziana, vol. 20, 1983.

5. Paolo Romano, Crucifixion of St. Peter, Relief from the high altar ciborium of Old St. Peter, Grotte Vaticane (since 1616)

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La forma dello Spazio Pubblico: Luogo, Spazio, Spazio Spazzatura

The Shape of Public Space: Place, Space, and Junkspace

David Mayernik School of Architecture Rome Studies Program University of Notre Dame

David Mayernik School of Architecture Rome Studies Program University of Notre Dame

Già nel novecento le città italiane iniziano a perdere la coerenza formale degli spazzi pubblici, in parte quale risultato d’idee di urbanistica importate da altrove.

Paradossalmente, la dissoluzione della forma del dominio pubblico fu accompagnato da un insorgere della politica rappresentativa, al punto tale che è difficile difendere l’idea di una corrispondenza semplice tra la politica civile e la generazione di una buona forma urbana. L’Italia del dopo guerra ha visto una crescente democratizzazione dello spazio, e una paradossale propensione per la creazione dello spazio spazzatura – quel non-spazio che risulta inevitabilmente dal fatto di privilegiare l’edilizia privata rispetto la realizzazione di spazi pubblici che dovrebbe definire.

Cose belle possono verificarsi in spazi brutti, così come cose brutte in spazi belli.

Il concetto albertiano della corrispondenza tra le due cose è che la buona forma urbana rappresenta e facilita, ma non necessariamente crea, una società civile. Spazio pubblico di successo sotto il profilo formale è il risultato di buon disegno urbano, nel migliore dei casi la coniugazione di strategie formali comprovate con un senso del poetico del teatro urbano. Per contro, gli interventi urbani senza successo, sono in gran parte il risultato di derive estetiche, e non politiche.

Un esempio di questi principi si può avere nella percorso tra Largo Argentina e Piazza Mastai. Qui troviamo concetti di spazio pubblico tra di loro radicalmente diversi, di strade e piazza, del rapporto tra il tessuto e il monumento, tra il vuoto e il solido, che si manifestano nei piani regolatori sempre più ambiziosi del fine Otto inizi Novecento. E un processo di degrado che si è amplificato progressivamente sino ad arrivare alle periferie di oggi.

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Introduction Already by the nineteenth century Italian cities began to lose some of the formal coherence of the their public realm, partly as a result of urban ideas imported from elsewhere; paradoxically, this dissolution of the shape of the public realm accompanied a resurgent representative politics, to such an extent that it is difficult to argue for a simple correspondence between civil politics and the generation of good urban form. Post-war Italy saw an increasing democratization of space, and a baffling propensity for creating junkspace—that non-space that inevitably results from privileging the individual building over the public spaces it should define. Good things can happen in bad spaces, in other words, and bad things in good spaces; the Albertian notion of the correspondence between the two is that that good urban form represents and facilitates, but doesn’t necessarily create, a civil society.

Formally successful public urban space is the result of good urban design, at its best a coupling of proven formal strategies with a sense for the poetics of urban theater; conversely, unsuccessful urban interventions are largely the result of misguided aesthetics, not politics.

This change in scale of both street and buildings makes the planning of Nineteenth- and Twentieth-century Rome very different from that of the Renaissance. It is not merely a quantitative difference however. Via Paola, while cutting through Retrobanchos, was made to serve existing local landmarks (the Bridge, Piazza di Ponte, Via Giulia, S. Giovanni de’Fiorentini). its width, which was considerably wider than local vicoli, was only slightly wider than the Medieval Via Recta-Coronari. Its length was limited to the confines of the Quartiere de’Banchi. In general, there are clear indications of the Renaissance street being made to adjust to the Quartiere rather than the reverse. The same cannot be said about the Corso Vittorio Emanuele.50 From Space to Junkspace Figural buildings in Rome continued to exist from the ancient through the medieval eras, but are then rare in the city after the Middle Ages until the nineteenth century; while figural space is equally rarely created in medieval Rome and becomes paramount from the Renaissance through the middle of the eighteenth century.51 Space began to trump place as the scale of urban interventions in the Western world ballooned in the later eighteenth century (after Paris’ Place de la Concorde) and throughout the nineteenth. Italy, and Rome 50Allan Ceen, The Quartiere de’Banchi: Urban Planning in Rome in the First Half of the Cinquecento, PhD dissertation, Garland Publishing, 1986, p. 206 51Piazza Navona is, of course an antique survivor; the Campidoglio was a fairly ragtag leftover space until Michelangelo’s project; the Campo dei Fiori may also be a survivor of the antique street network—even if it was in the Middle Ages as much a field (campo) as an urban space. There do not seem to be, as far as I’m aware, any medieval projects for new piazzas in the abitato. The city that Nolli’s map documents certainly inherited its density from the medieval condition, but the figural spaces it so seductively documents are either antique survivors or Renaissance and Baroque inventions/transformations.

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especially, feeling the need to catch up with urban developments elsewhere, began a process of sventramento—or opening up, literally gutting—its urban fabric to “liberate” ancient monuments, move traffic, and let the city “breathe.” While the shape of space—large, figural rectangles like Piazzas Cavour or Vitttorio Emanuele—still counted notionally, size or quantity began to count more. What was gutted along with many square kilometers of urban fabric (and the peoples’ lives who lived in them) was the clarity of space as place, sacrificed to an abstract accumulation of unbuilt space as resource. Coincident with the projects of sventramento that established new traffic corridors and areas of open space around monuments was the need to approximately balance development in the disabitato with preservation of open space in archeological zones; as the scale of the city expanded dramatically, both the scale of the new neighborhoods’ streets and squares increased and former semi-rural vigne and villa plots became became public parks and viali.

While quantifiably justified as a balance against what would later sprawl even farther into the periferie, these parks were often ill defined and rather indifferently planted, conditions which naturally led to an increasingly raggedy, informal edge and deferred maintenance. Paradigmatic in this regard is the Parco della Resistenza dell’Otto Settembre, just inside the Porta di S. Paolo.

Clarifying Terms I would like to propose a simple distinction for the discussion of buildings and urban space, between object and space, two wholly distinct entities; and to also distinguish between space as a quantitative phenomenon and place as a qualitative one. Then, to clarify things by reference to the historical center of Rome, to say that the critical thing is to define which is primary and which secondary, or which is figure and which is ground. The Vittoriano monument is the object as figure and the Piazza Venezia space as ground, Piazza S. Ignazio is the space as figure and its buildings, while retaining a certain figural integrity, are ground.

In essence, I am discussing the transformation from prioritizing space as figure to building (or object) as figure and space as neutral byproduct, buffer, or frame.

This reversal of priorities begins not with the arrival of Modernism in the twentieth century, but rather with neoclassicism and

the influence of the Ecole des Beaux Arts; one could say it is the abandonment of peculiarly Roman attitudes for Greek or French ones (paralleled in landscape design with the importation of the English garden).

Contrasting for Clarity the Renaissance and Nineteenth Century Abitato To understand the roots of the contemporary conception of public space, it is useful to compare Renaissance and Nineteenth Century urban conditions and buildings to understand what changed, even though the classical language that informs both masks the discontinuity. If the monumental ministries and sprawling archeological zones are readily comprehended for their distinctiveness from the monuments of the abitato or the rural character of the former disabitato, there is a condition of sventramento that collapses these approaches onto an area of the abitato straddling both sides of the river along a wholly new urban sequence, and it is the difference between this Rome and Nolli’s that I want to point out, to suggest that here are distilled those attitudes with which Modern Rome is still invested.

Via Arenula and Viale di Trastevere Wending its way through the abitato, the venerable via Papalis (via dei Banchi Nuovi and via del Governo Vecchio) bends and jogs to accommodate local conditions, while local notable buildings and institutions— palazzos Narni and Turci, the Roman Oratory—address themselves to the street, seizing in the case of Borromini’s clock tower a distant prospect and holding the viewer’s attention until arriving at the piazza dell’Orologio. Street and buildings negotiate with each other, although the sense in which the street is contained by the buildings is never violated, and the opening up of new piazzas surgically releases spatial containment while not interrupting it. The space of the street and the piazza remains figural.

Instead, a radical series of interventions of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries established a wholly new route from the old via Papalis near the Torre Argentina to the Tiber and across Trastevere, there slicing through long, straight ancient streets like the via della Lungaretta and more modern ones like via S. Francesco a Ripa.

This lesser known case of sventramento, revealing embedded Republican temples in the Largo di Torre Argentina and “liberating”

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the ancient church of S. Crisogono, is a seemingly innocuous case of gutting, lined as much of the new route is with inoffensive fin-de-siècle fabric. In fact, perhaps the spatial ambiguity that the post-unification capital evinces is nowhere better revealed than here, precisely because of its relative discretion. And no better term illustrates this ambiguity than “largo,” a confusing spatial nominative that proliferated with the changes to the centro storico and the new periferie: not only is the space thought of as Largo di Torre Argentina evidently something other than a piazza, but it is bounded by two additional larghi, Largo delle Stimmate to the north and Largo Arenula (the ambiguous beginning of via Arenula) to the south; what distinguishes them as larghi from Piazza Calcari on the southeast side of the space is, I admit, beyond my understanding. It is telling, in fact, that Largo Argentina proper does not in fact include the Teatro Argentina, nor the four sunken temples—these are flanked west and east by via di Torre Argentina and via S. Nicola de’ Cesarini (the latter, like many streets of the kind, named after a church it was responsible for destroying—vide via S. Anna off Largo Arenula). How the submerged fragments of temples could possibly define space in any other way than by sheer resonance of their antiquity (and the depressed level upon which they sit), or indeed what exactly is the nature of the temenos they occupy, are mysteries to which only the urban designers of the 1920’s were initiated. The token tower and loggia at the southeast corner, instead, somehow frame an actual piazza at the foot of via S. Nicola, Piazza dei Calcarari.

The exposed Republican Temples were the last phase of this transformation; before the demolitions of the 1920’s that revealed the temples, the Piano Regolatore of 1883 had shown carving away the block facing the Teatro Argentina, and chopping through the blocks to the south until reaching the former street that connected the ancient east-west street departing from the Theater of Marcellus (via S. Maria del Pianto, a street eventually becoming the first branch of the via del Pellegrino).

As via Arenula departed from Largo Arenula toward the Tiber, it sliced across in fact two prongs of the medieval pilgrimage routes (both survivors of ancient streets) to the east of S. Carlo ai Catinari; the small trapezoidal isola that once framed the piazza in front of

the church was demolished for good measure to connect to a more modest piazza to the south, allowing for the new urban park known as Piazza Cairoli; flanking via Arenula, the park dilates the street’s spatial definition without its own perimeter easily perceived—a consequence of the fence and trees that occupy the center, which serve to displace vehicular and pedestrian routes around it. Continuing on, nearer the modern Ponte Garibaldi the neo-Renaissance Ministero di Grazie e Giustizia peels away from the street to assert its isolation, with flanking wings set back again behind a fenced green strip; the massive bureaucratic block to the rear that sustains the honorific palazzo swoops around to face the freestanding, modestly scaled (if highly particularized), villa-like buildings that line the Lungotevere; these two disparate types— bureaucratic block and villini—line via delle Zoccolette, one of the least coherent streets in the abitato.

Across the indifferent Ponte Garibaldi sprawls Piazza Gioacchino Belli, which bleeds into a series of smaller contiguous piazze toward the south all the way to the hard-to-perceive Piazza Sonino. Flanking S. Crisogono the Largo de Matha reads like a spur of Piazza Belli, and indeed precisely where Piazza Belli ends and the Largo begins is impossible to say. The trees that fill this rambling, amorphous area mask its lack of spatial coherence, one of its roles to be foil to the detached, much-restored medieval urban fragment of the Torre degli Anguillara that houses the Casa di Dante. The Torre used to be oriented toward the via della Lungaretta, one of the longest of the surviving straight streets from the ancient city (the Roman Aurelia Vetus and Renaissance via Transteberina), which the Piano Regolatore of 1883 had proposed widening (partially realized in the western end); today the continuity of this venerable via is hard to piece together from its detached halves split by the viale di Trastevere.

A viale, or tree-lined avenue (boulevard), was an anomaly among the sventramenti within the Aurelianic walls. The width of the viale is difficult to justify at the level of traffic, and it does not afford long vistas as it wends its way toward Stazione Trastevere.

So wide that it really needs a liner of trees on each side (which contribute to the lack of vista), its excessive width sponsors sidewalk vendor strips, a mid-boulevard tram system,

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and multiple lane two way traffic. A quick survey of contemporary streets in the intramural city reveals this to be the widest by far52, in a neighborhood not known previously for its grandeur. It is wide enough to be a kind of urban DMZ, effectively splitting Trastevere in two, east and west, one half identified with S. Cecilia and the other with S. Maria in Trastevere.

The route that became viale di Trastevere evolved from the Piano Regolatore of 1873, where a short straight stretch stitched together the proposed bridge with the Lungaretta and via dei Genovesi. It was from that last, and the eventual Piazza Sonino, that the viale itself eventually departed; in the plan of 1883 the interventions extended instead toward the inflection of via S. Crisogono to connect to the extant, extensive via della Luce which passed across the front of the Palladian manifattura dei Tabacchi; but by the plan of 1909 that relatively surgical series of interventions had given way to a new boulevard ruthlessly slicing across the head of Piazza Mastai and onward past the Aurelianic walls. This viale del Re redefined the whole, previously sparsely developed, southwest quarter of Trastevere, accumulating its own institutions (Ospedale Regina Margherita) and ministries (Pubblica Educazione) along the way. Where it awkwardly intersected previous street networks or piazze it left vestigial junkspace like via Cardinale Merry del Val opposite Piazza Mastai, which inevitably acquired trees to mitigate its spatial ambiguity.

52the following are dimensions from the Catasto map, building front to building front, at typical conditions along the streets: Viale Trastevere 34.5m Corso Vittorio Emanuele 19.6 Via Nazionale 22.6 Via Cavour 19.6 Via Labicana 29.6 Via Merulana 25.3 Via Crescenzio (Prati) 25.4 One has to go to the northern boundary of the nineteenth century Prati district and Viale Giulio Cesare (39.5m) to find a comparable condition; but since this is actually a street that delimits a district, and not bisects one, its role and context make it more acceptable.

Conclusion Junkspace is what remains after modernization has run its course or, more precisely, what coagulates while modernization is in progress, its fallout.

Modernization had a rational program: to share the blessings of science, universally.

Junkspace is its apotheosis, or meltdown...

Although its individual parts are the outcome of brilliant inventions, lucidly planned by human intelligence, boosted by infinite computation, their sum spells the end of Enlightenment, its resurrection as farce, a low-grade purgatory...

—Rem Koolhaas, Junkspace, Quodlibet, 2006 (excerpt from the OMA website) Koolhas may be unwittingly romanticizing: junkspace’s pedigree antedates his idea of modernization, its deepest roots instead as far back as Joseph Rykwert’s “first moderns” of the eighteenth century. If public space implicitly refers to a space not only made available to the public, but embodying a public identity, space without that identity may all be junkspace—amorphous, leftover, coagulated. It is odd that so little memorable public space was constituted as part of Rome’s transformation into a national capital while so much new building occurred, but this may be as Koolhaas suggests simply a consequence of when Rome was transformed, not an explicit agenda of the transformation. What was no doubt intentional was a quantifiable approach to space, space as a measured entity to either relieve Rome’s density internally (sventramento) or compensate for it

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externally: this is allied to both the idea of those social housing projects (Garbatella, Testaccio) that presumed to provide a better quality of life than life in the old abitato, and to the burgeoning growth of the city outwards into the disabitato (pushing the city’s “green belt” farther afield). At the same time, space as buffer, as a kind of pochè around the figure of monumental buildings, is a consequence of a neoclassical or Beaux Arts predilection for the ideal building unwilling (or unable) to compromise with its context. Those ministries in massive palazzi from Piazza Cavour to Via XX Settembre were part of a wholesale ex novo development in formerly semi-rural terrain, so there was no urban context per se to which they could respond.

They floated, therefore, aloof and selfabsorbed, isolated from adjacent buildings or even the streets that they lined.

This problematic promenade from Largo Argentina to Piazza Mastai speaks to the radically different notions of public space— of streets and piazze, of the relationship between fabric and monument, or void and solid—that manifested themselves in the increasingly ambitious Piani Regolatori of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. From space that is shaped Rome moved on to space that is accumulated, where amplitude equated accomplishment; if that transformation’s effects are tempered by the pleasant enough buildings of the period that defined the spaces, its deleterious consequences manifested themselves more and more as the architectural quality declined and scale increased in layer after layer of late-twentieth century periferie.

Argentina - Panorama

Arenula-Trastevere: Present-Future

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Perduto Lo Spazio

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Performance e Politica negli Spazi Urbani della Roma Barocca Joanna Norman, Victoria and Albert Museum, London

Performance and Politics in the Urban Spaces of Baroque Rome Joanna Norman, Victoria and Albert Museum, London

Questo intervento esplora la natura della Roma della prima era moderna quale città di festività, una città i cui spazi pubblici furono occupati da individui e soggetti istituzioni per mettere in scena celebrazioni sacre nonché effimere e laiche. L’intervento prende in esame in particolare le motivazioni politiche che informano tali celebrazioni, e i loro effetti sugli spazi pubblici della città, con attenzione particolare rivolta a Piazza Navona quale caso studio dello spazio contestato di Roma.

Ciò che traspare da questa analisi è la complessità dei rapporti tra svariati istituzioni, gruppi, famiglie ed individui tra di loro in competizione per appropriare - o temporaneamente o in maniera definitiva - gli spazi presunti ‘pubblici’ di Roma. Lo spazio pubblico diventava pertanto un luogo in cui mettere in scena le questioni diplomatiche europee, o questioni dinastiche, o idee politiche su scala microcosmica.

This paper explores the nature of early modern Rome as a festive city, one whose public spaces were frequently taken over by individuals and institutional bodies for the staging of sacred and secular ephemeral celebrations. It looks specifically at the political motivations behind these celebrations and their effect on the public spaces of the city, focusing in particular on Piazza Navona as a case study of a contested public space in Rome.

Early modern Rome was a city with a unique make-up. A diplomatic melting pot, with representatives of different European courts and nationalities seeking to secure favour at the Papal court, it was of course also a pilgrimage centre, as the holiest site of Western Christendom. In addition, as a secular state ruled not by a hereditary monarchy but by a series of elected rulers from a number of powerful rival families, it was a city rife with power struggles. In this volatile environment performance and spectacle played an important role as part of

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a complex system of cultural politics and propaganda.

A regular programme of festivities was staged in early modern Rome. This was partly sacred, with regular feast days and occasional events such as canonisations warranting lavish celebrations, and partly secular, including the annual Carnival as well as other ephemeral events, often organised by prominent individuals or families. These celebrations temporarily took over the public spaces of the city and played an important political role: through their staging, supposedly ‘public’ spaces could be temporarily appropriated by private bodies, thus creating an unsettled and conflicted urban environment.

Piazza Navona provides a prime example of this. During the early modern period, this piazza served multiple functions: it was the location of the local public water supply and the site of the main city market, and thus an important commercial hub. However, as a festive space, for which it was known since antiquity, Piazza Navona became an ambiguous site contested by different individuals and groups, all laying claim to it through the ephemeral events they staged within its confines.

One of these was the Spanish nation, as Piazza Navona housed the Spanish national church: S. Giacomo degli Spagnuoli. Royal Spanish births, marriages and deaths were celebrated here, and every year from 1579 Easter was celebrated with a procession around the piazza organised by the Confraternity of the Santissima Resurrección, led by the Spanish ambassador. This annual colonisation and mobilisation of the piazza therefore disrupted its usual status by creating a counter-claim to Roman authority: the procession not only celebrated Easter, but more importantly, glorified the Spanish nation and its king.

As well as being home to S. Giacomo degli Spagnuoli, Piazza Navona and its environs also housed the palaces of several prominent Roman families, its proximity to the Vatican across the Tiber making it a sought-after residential location. These families – and others not resident in the area – expressed their rivalry through a broad programme of cultural patronage and propaganda which included the staging of ephemeral events. In 1634, the Barberini family organised a giostra del saraceno in the piazza in honour

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of a visit to Rome by Prince Alexander of Poland. Although the prince had left the city prematurely two days previously, the event went ahead as planned, offering the Barberini the opportunity to assert its magnificence and status at that moment as the ruling papal family. Reputedly the most expensive of all seventeenth-century Roman festivities, its cost went primarily on costumes and on a triumphal car in the form of a ship, which was paraded through the streets of Rome so that it could be seen by the maximum number of people.

While the Barberini giostra was a one-off event, staged to make a political statement, a far more ambitious statement was made in the same piazza over the course of several years by the Pamphilj family. The Pamphilj had been resident in Piazza Navona since 1470, but lacked a sufficiently grand residence to compete with other Roman patrician families. Therefore, after Giovanni Battista Pamphilj’s election to the cardinalate in 1630, he restructured the family palace, equipping it with a sequence of ceremonial rooms and, following his election to the Papacy as Innocent X in 1644, adding an imposing facade. The fact that this major building project took place in Piazza Navona shows a certain attitude to ‘public’ space: the palace is the most impressive building of the piazza, its decoration proclaiming the Pamphilj arms.

But even more significantly, the space in front of the building is also transformed, as it can now be read as an integral part of the conception of the palace: no longer wholly public, but semi-privatised. The significance of this can be judged from the fact that during Innocent X’s possesso, the main event was not, as was usual, the arrival at the Lateran Palace, where the pope officially took possession of his Episcopal see, but instead the evening’s celebrations at the Palazzo Pamphilj in Piazza Navona.

The clear intention of Innocent X to claim Piazza Navona for his family and thus proclaim Pamphilj supremacy was not restricted to the palace, but continued with the commission of the Fountain of the Four Rivers from Gianlorenzo Bernini to celebrate the Jubilee Year of 1650. This remarkable sculptural creation succeeded in irrefutably linking the piazza with the papacy under the rule of the Pamphilj. With the four rivers representing the four corners of the world, it also proclaimed the international scope of the Catholic church

under their leadership. And finally, Innocent X was also responsible for reconstructing the church of Sant’Agnese in Agone, next to Palazzo Pamphilj. Employing the same architects who had worked on the final stages of the palace façade – Borromini and Rainaldi – for this reconstruction meant that the facades were joined both literally and stylistically. Forming a coherent backdrop to Bernini’s fountain, the buildings combined with it to ensure that this public space would be forever associated with one private family.

The impact of these architectural commissions on Piazza Navona and public perception can be seen in the number of printed publications portraying these major buildings, but also in the way that the space was used for festivities. In the eighteenth century, the ‘Festa del Lago’ was a popular August event: the piazza was flooded overnight on Saturday evenings, creating a shallow lake that offered tourists and locals the prospect of taking their carriages (often disguised as gondolas or fish) through the water on Sundays. This was not just entertainment in itself, but recalled the ancient Roman practice of holding naumachie or mock naval battles in the same space. But even when flooded, the visual focus of the piazza would have been the Pamphilj obelisk, ensuring the longevity of the Pamphilj family and the continuation of its stamp on the public spaces of the city.

This should not be taken to mean, however, that the battle over Piazza Navona was unequivocally won by the Pamphilj. The annual Spanish celebrations continued to make use of the space and thus unsettle this balance. And as ever, new claims to the space were put forward, indicating a shift in political affairs. In 1729 it was taken over by Cardinal de Polignac, French Ambassador to the Holy See, for a fireworks display to celebrate the birth of the French Dauphin. Preparations for the fireworks, the culmination of ten days of celebrations, were recorded in two paintings by the artist Gianpaolo Panini. Wood and papier-mâché temporary structures, decorated with the French arms and motifs of the dauphin, were installed along the central axis of the piazza, including two columns surmounted by the figures of St Louis of Toulouse and of Louis XIV. These columns dwarfed the Pamphilj obelisk and instead unequivocally proclaimed the supremacy of France. While

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this could of course be read simply as a continuation of a long festive tradition, it seems not insignificant that by this time, the Papacy was already on the way to losing any real political or temporal power: in reality no longer the most important power in Rome.

What remains clear from this examination of particular events and particular spaces in Rome is the complexity of the relationships between the many competing institutions, groups, families and individuals each seeking to appropriate, whether temporarily or permanently, supposedly ‘public’ space in Rome. In such a densely built and populated city, where open spaces were difficult to come by, any public space inevitably became highly charged and contested between different claimants, each seeking to assert itself and make its own claim through architecture and spectacle. Through such events, public space could be used to play out European diplomatic, dynastic or political ideas on a microcosmic scale, while the publication of such events in print, or their record in painting, allowed these debates to be transmitted to a wider audience.

Images

Festival in Piazza Navona to celebrate the visit of Prince Alexander of Poland, 1634 (Museo di Roma)

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Louis Rouhier, The Fountain of the Four Rivers in Piazza Navona in Rome, 1651 (British Museum)

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Lieven Cruyl, Piazza Navona, with the Fountain of the Four Rivers and Church of S. Agnese in Agone, etching, 1697 (British Museum)

Gianpaolo Panini, Preparations for Fireworks celebrating the Birth of the French Dauphin in Piazza Navona, Rome, in 1729, 1731 (National Gallery of Ireland)

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Omnis Caesareo cedit labor Amphitheatro, unum pro cuntis fama loquetur opus (Mart., 1, 7-8):Si spostava il centro della Roma antica?

Manuel Royo University François Rabelais Dept of Art History Tours- France

Omnis Caesareo cedit labor Amphitheatro, unum pro cuntis fama loquetur opus (Mart., 1, 7-8):Has the center of Ancient Rome been shifting?

Manuel Royo University François Rabelais Dept of Art History Tours- France

Roma era una città policentrica. Una città monarchica, poi repubblicana, con al centro il forum, che sostituiva quindi la Roma Quadrata Palatina. La sovrapposizione di alcuni luoghi evidenziano come la fondazione della città corrisponde a un rito religioso che determina sia centro che periferia. Il centro di una città romana ha una definizione ed origine religiosa, ma ha anche un significato antropologico. Al suo cuore troviamo due forme regolari, sia sociali che spaziali. La regolarità spaziale è ovvio, perlomeno sotto un profilo metaforico, o il modo in cui vede il modo un geometra.

Viceversa la regolarità sociale implica una coerenza nella volontà di unire le diverse parti della società.

Queste riflessioni forniscono le basi per esplorare la nuova fondazione di Roma basata sull’esperienza ed il modello augusteo.

Rome can be considered as a “polycentric” city. A royal, then republican Rome, with the forum as its center, would thus substitute itself to the Palatine Roma Quadrata. The doubling up of certain places are both witness to the fact that the foundation of a city corresponds to a religious rite which determines both its center and its periphery. The center of a Roman city obviously has a religious definition and origins, but it also has an anthropological meaning. Its heart can be considered as the focal point of two regularities forms, both social and spatial. The spatial regularity is obvious at least on a metaphoric point of view with the way a surveyor sees the world. The social one implies a coherence in the will to make the different parts of society fit together.

The choice of the first imperial residence is obviously dictated by the presence of legendary traditions which link to this area the figure of Romulus, with whom the Emperor identifies to an extent. There is a double

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movement that corresponds to a shift in the political center of gravity, but which still respects the traditional practices and the republican ways of thinking. Augustus conducts a very careful distribution of functions and buildings associated with the new imperial power within the boundaries of the old Republican Forum: the signs of this new authority are concentrated on the western side of the Republican Forum. The eastern part and the foot of the Capitol remain devoted to the traditional institutions of the Republic: tabularium (archives), moneta (mint), aerarium (treasury), and the republican rostra.

A further step is reached with Nero and the reorganization of the imperial residence following the fire of 64 AD. Until then, the functions of public buildings of the Forum had evolved slowly. The imperial presence is marked with the emergence of an associated bureaucracy and the building- interrupted by the burning of Rome- of the Domus Tiberiana, the Neronian palace overlooking the Forum at the northwest corner of the Palatine hill.

However, the building of his "urban villa", the Domus Aurea is crucial to the understanding of the shift that occurs under Vespasian. The repair of the Via Sacra by Nero after 64 AD. creates a structural axis linking the Republican forum to the new imperial residence. The importance of this pathway is emphasized by columned porticos lining the street on both sides. The orientation of the monumental sequence is given by the Colossus, which concludes the bottom-up perspective that goes from the entrance of the Forum to the top of the Velia.

In this context, the flavian amphitheater takes advantage of the neronian planning. That the building is dedicated to the people and not for the prince’s sole use, as the domus was, is particularly significant. Moreover, the luxury and variety of shows in the arena give the plebs the idea that the entire universe and its wonders are offered to her. These shows recall the memory of the triumphal procession, according to Flavius Josephus. The templum Pacis, the Baths of Titus and Claudianum sketch a coherent urban project due to Vespasian and Titus. Domitian completed it, adding other buildings - more or less contemporary- and making it evolve. The main buildings are arranged as a fan around the amphitheater that is at the very center (Mart., 1, 7-8) in a Rome re-birth (the

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dismantling of the Domus Aurea signifies "Rome’s back to herself" De spect. II).

Other clues indicate a “new foundation” of Rome, based on the Augustan experience and model. As outlined by Suetonius, the urban program of Vespasian (ornare and stabilire) is not so different from the one the author attributes to Augustus. Coincidence or not, the tradition locates the house of king Servius Tullius on the Esquiline, but not far from the Coliseum. Like Romulus, whose image served as a model for Augustus, Servius is seen as a "founder" in the Roman imagination, responsible for the creation of the administration, of the army and the topography of the royal Rome after the Romulean foundation. What’s more, some sources attributed to him the creation of the Roma quadrata. Finally, it is very significant that in Domitian’s urban program - extending and modifying that of its predecessors - the sight of the Coliseum and the Augustan fountain known as the Meta Sudans are framed in the bay of Titus’ Arch. Meta Sudans actually occupies quite a remarkable position: at the junction of four (and possibly five) urban regions, it represents a central point of the new Augustan organization. Destroyed by fire in 64 A. D. Titus undertook its reconstruction (completed by Domitian), at a very short distance from its original position.

Important is the fact that this monumental fountain appears on the coinage of Titus, either alone or -and that interests us- close to the amphitheater and to a structure set symmetrically, that we may be tempted to identify as the Baths of Titus.

The way the palace covers the entire Palatine hill gradually from the reign of Domitian, so as to make the center of Rome the center of power in later centuries, leads to believe that the formula of Suetonius (Vespasian “has an amphitheater built in the center of the city“ – media urbe) illustrates a "transitional" state during which the amphitheater is the focal point of a double regularity, spatial and social and the landmark of a symbolic re-foundation of the Vrbs. In my opinion, it would be a mistake to consider, although it is often difficult to do otherwise, the Flavian dynasty in one piece. The example of the amphitheater, a marvel of Rome, which seems to encompass and surpass them all, shows a specific moment in the reign of the first two emperors of the new dynasty, before the third one transforms and enlarges their urban project on the scale of the city as a whole.

Flavian building activity and main monuments (from Castagnoli, 1965)

Capitol, Forum Romanum and Domus Tiberiana under Nero (from Perrin, 2009)

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The imperial buildings around the Coliseum from the remains of the Forma Urbis Roma (from Rodriguez-Almeida, E., Forma Urbis Marmorea, aggiornamento generale 1980, Roma, 1981)

Sestertius of Titus with the Meta (on the right) and the Baths ? (on the left)

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Visioni quotidiani nella Roma di Pasolini Gregory Smith, Cornell University

Rhodes ha dimostrato chiaramente come Pasolini abbia reificato l’idea stessa del movimento neorealista in una strategia che consentiva di reagire in maniera edipica contro un genere filmico in cui lui stesso nasce, e con il quale viene spesso identificato. Questa reificazione temporale trova un parallelo nella reificazione dello spazio, quando Pasolini si adopera per creare un contrasto tra il centro e la periferia della città di Roma in cui situare la sua narrativa. E’ probabile che tale reificazione si sovrapponga su reificazioni quotidiani formulati dai residenti stessi della città, quando affermano che il loro mondo cittadino alberga lo stesso contrasto che troviamo tra il nord e il sud d’Italia, un contrasto a sua volta reificante. Questo intervento esplora tali processi di reificazione, con qualche esempio tratto da ricerche urbane condotte negli ultimi anni.

Pedestrian perspectives on Pasolini’s Rome Gregory Smith, Cornell University

Rhodes has demonstrated nicely the way Pasolini reified the whole idea of the neorealist film movement in a way which allowed Pasolini to react, in Oedipal fashion, against a genre from which he himself was born, and with which he is often associated.

This represents a reification of a temporally situated art movement, a reification of time which finds a parallel in the reification of space, when Pasolini struggles to create a strong contrast between center and periphery in which his ideally marginal space could be located. This reification of the contrast between center and periphery is no doubt grafted on other contrasts, and indeed it is common for Roman citizens themselves (Herzfeld) to describe their world as replicating the contrast between north and south Italy49, especially in the relationship between the center of the city and the periphery. It is sometimes said that Pasolini was strongly nostalgic about a disappearing world (Ward), that in Rome required a spatial prop in order to function as a narrative foundation.

That this vision of a uniformly dispossessed periphery entails a form of poetic license is a position which Agnew has explored in his analysis of Rome in the years in which Pasolini’s poetic vision is situated. Agnew argues convincingly that Pasolini’s essentialized vision of the city was taken seriously enough by such authoritative sociological writers as Ferrarotti and Insolera to become established in the 49Petrusewicz, and many others, have noted how even the distinction between north and south Italy represents a form of reification.

Here we have a reification built upon a reification.

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conventional vision of how Rome is structured. Other empirical work on the city of Rome in the 1960s, by such writers as Martinelli, disputes this view. The two Romes model leaves out a middle class which was already present in the periphery when Pasolini was writing, and about which he himself must have been familiar from the days when he was living in Rebibbia.

Having frequented the center of Rome, Pasolini would also have been familiar with the substandard housing that was found even in the central parts of the city. Even more surprising than the lack of a sharp center periphery division in the physical construction of the city, is Martinelli’s findings that citizens of such heavily stigmatized peripheral areas as Fidene and Tor Bella Monaca did not always express a strong sense of marginality. Furthermore social outcasts today and in Pasolini’s own narrative are found both in the center and the periphery. Agnew notes how the idea of the two cities in one is part of a familiar trope in urban environments far beyond Rome, even in American cities of the nineteenth century.

It is interesting to note a contrast between Ferrarotti’s reification of the center periphery contrast and that of Pasolini.

Whereas Ferrarotti characterizes the difference without nuance, going so far as to claim that the periphery of Rome was ‘a total institution’ (1970:XXX) from which there was little hope of escape. Pasolini instead recognizes that the periphery of Rome was characterized by much variety.

Recall the encounter between Tommasino and the public project of Tiburtino IV in A Violent Life; Pasolini recognized that such an estate could house respectable middle class families as well as the underclass. Indeed, for the underclass to find such housing was a rare privilege. To use another example, in the film Mamma Roma, Tuscolano II functioned well in narrative terms because that represented a respectable periphery neighborhood as opposed to Portonaccio which was characterized filmically in exaggerated negative terms.

In fairness to Ferrarotti, we might note that his 1970 volume initiates with a depreciation of disinterested bourgeois research, saying that the researcher should also be an activist.

His strong portrayal which interprets in unnuanced form the characterization of Rome first developed by Pasolini, was perhaps successful to the extent that it helped galvanize public support in favor of

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the redevelopment of Rome’s periphery which led to the outcome of the administrative elections in Rome in 1976. In Ferrarotti scientific accuracy was sacrificed to political expediency. Pasolini’s poetic vision of the Rome periphery instead seemed more successful in matching accurate portrayal with a strong galvanization of public opinion.

From Martinelli on we know that the Rome periphery is not uniformly underprivileged, nor stigmatized in the eyes of the local residents. But nonetheless the dominant vision of the periphery implies stigma, no doubt thanks to the work of portrayals of marginalization found in media and urban research. One of our Cornell neighborhood groups worked in Casilino 23, and it was interesting to see the reaction of local citizens to the question, “What is life like in the periphery of Rome?” Put in such bold terms the question was irritating, and initially drew silence. But if the informant were disposed to go beyond the initial impulse to reject the question as nonsensical, it preluded an effort to explain that this was not really the periphery, but a special part of Rome built in order to provide a residential quarter for the Eastern Business District (SDO) projected in the 1960s and never built. This showed that the term ‘Rome periphery’ embodied a connotation of discredit. One informant spent some time explaining how he had moved here with great misgivings in the 1980s from the more central San Giovanni neighborhood. But then he had children, and found that they appreciated the abundance of public space, parks, light and air. And those amenities justified the move. By a similar token, it was interesting to see that all memory of Borgata Gordiani (Casilino 23 estate is boarded by Via Gordiani), has been all but eradicated.

Only one informant claimed knowledge of its existence, but stated that it was far to the north. Yet an informant who went to elementary school in the 1970s recalled how their elementary schools class sections were divided according to whether they lived in the ‘palazzi’ (big buildings) or the ‘casette’ (little houses). The former were the residents of Casilino 23, the latter the residents of the Borgata Gordiani. So the memory is there, but it struggles to survive in the effort to connote Casilino 23 as a periphery which is not peripheral.

Bibliography Ferrarotti, Franco (1970) Roma da capital a periferia. Bari: Laterza Gallagher, Cassandra, Illika Sahu, Michael Jacobs, Rachel Jones (2011) Casilino 23-Neighborhood Report, Rome Workshop. Rome, Italy: Cornell in Rome Herzfeld, Michael (2009) Evicted from Eternity. The Restructuring of Modern Rome. Chicago: U Chicago Press Insolera, Italo (1962) Roma moderna: un secolo di storia urbanistica. Turin: Einaudi Martinelli, Franco (1988) Le società urbane: problemi e studi. Milan: Franco Angeli Pasolini, Pier Paolo (1959) Una Vita Violenta.

Milan: Garzanti Pasolini, Pier Paolo (1962) Mamma Roma [Motion Picture]. Italy: Cineriz Petrusewicz, Marta.1998. “Before the Southern Question”, in Jane Schneider, ed., Italy's "Southern question" : orientalism in one country. pp. 27-51.

Rhodes, John David (2007) Stupendous Miserable City: Pasolini’s Rome. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press Ward, David (1995) A poetics of resistance: narrative and the writings of Pier Paolo Pasolini. Ontario: Associated University Presses.

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“SPQR CAPITOLIVM RESTITVIT”: La renovatio del Campidoglio e l’utilizzo degli ordini giganti da parte di Michelangelo Tamara Smithers, Temple University

“SPQR CAPITOLIVM RESTITVIT”: The renovatio of the Campidoglio and Michelangelo’s Use of the Giant Order Tamara Smithers, Temple University

Nel 1570 veniva sistemata una lapide al Campidoglio che dichiarava che il senato e il Popolo romano avevano restaurato la Capitale. Michelangelo aveva ideato l’ordine gigante per il nuovo centro municipale che era il complemento del centro religioso nella nuova Basilica di San Pietro, sempre sotto l’autorità di Michelangelo. La sua decisione di incorporate l’ordine gigante in entrambi progetti alludeva alla grandezza dell’antichità, ed esprimeva la volontà dei papi di ripristinare il titolo romano di caput mundi.

Arrivati agli inizi del Cinquecento i palazzi governativi del Campidoglio erano notevolmente degradati. L’utilizzo cerimoniale del colle fu ripristinato quando fu completata la cordonata a metà del Seicento, e la piazza fu aggiunta al percorso del possesso seguito dal papa appena insediato mentre procedeva dal Vaticano al Laterano. Tale percorso confermava l’importanza del Campidoglio, e ricordava la sua antica funzione quale termine delle processioni imperiali.

Questi connotati simbolici sono trasmessi all’epoca moderna. I disegni cosmologici michelangeleschi per la piazza quale centro dell’universo furono realizzati solo quando Mussolini commissionò nell’epoca moderna il compimento del pavimento secondo i piani originali.

In 1570, an inscription was placed on the Capitoline Hill declaring that the senate and people of Rome have restored the Capitol. 27

27

Andrew Morrogh, “The Palace of the Roman People: Michelangelo at the Palazzo dei Conservatori.” Römisches Jarbüch der Bibliotheca Hertziana, XXIX. Tübingen: Ernst Wasmuth Verlag, (1994), 148–153, 136.

“SPQR / MAIORVM SVORVM PRAESTANTIUM / VT ANIMO SIC RE/ QVANTVM LIVIT IMITATVS / DEFORMATVM INIVRIA TEMPORVUM / CAPITOLIVM RESTITVIT /PROSPERO BVCCCAPAVLIO / THOMA CAVALERIO / CVRATORIBVS / ANNO POST VRBEM CONITAM / MM CCC XX.”

29

At the time, Michelangelo’s renovation of the Campidoglio was in process (Fig. 1). His designs featured the giant order, monumental pilasters or engaged columns spanning over two stories. Complementing the municipal headquarters was the religious focal point, the new St. Peter’s Basilica also under Michelangelo’s authority. His decision to incorporate the giant order on the exterior of both projects suited each site’s intended function to allude to the grandeur of antiquity and assisted in expressing the papacy’s desire to reclaim Rome’s title as caput mundi, head of the world. By the sixteenth century, the communal government buildings on site were in dreadful condition.

Moreover, the hill, called Monte Caprino because of its grazing goats, lacked a sufficient route for a large-scale triumphal procession to honor the visiting Holy Roman Emperor Charles V in 1536 like those that terminated there for victorious Roman emperors.28 As a result, in 1537, Pope Paul III commissioned Michelangelo to begin what would turn out to be an extensive project to physically and symbolically to restore the Capitol.29 Work on the Palazzo dei Conservatori, the palazzo communale, began in 1563, a year before Michelangelo’s death (Fig. 2). With the construction of the new façade, the giant order made its first full appearance in Roman secular architecture.30 The use of the 28

Ibid., 139.

29

Charles Stinger, “The Campidoglio as the Locus of Renovatio Imperii in Renaissance Rome” in Art and Politics in Late Medieval and Early Renaissance Rome 1250– 1500, ed. Charles M. Rosenberg (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1990), 140– 141. See also Charles Burroughs, “Michelangelo at the Campidoglio: Artistic Identity, Patronage, and Manufacture.” Artibus et Historiae 14, 28 (1993): 89–90.

30

Ludwig H. Heydenreich and Wolfgang Lotz. Architecture in Italy, 1400– 1600. Trans. Mary Hottinger (Harmondworth: Penguin, 1974), 250. See also Renato Bunelli, “La Piazza Capitolina” in Michelagniolo Architetto, ed. by Paolo Portoghese and Bruno Zevi (Venice: Giulio Einaudi editore, 1964), 428. This segment of the project concluding in 1584 under the direction of Giacomo della Porta. See also Arnoldo Bruschi, “Michelangelo in Campidoglio e l’inventione dell’ ordine gigante,” Storia Architettura, IV, 24 (1979), 7–28. See also Lionello Puppi,

30

colossal pilasters on the hill’s edifices unified the space and emulated nearby ancient ruins, evoking the Temple of Jupiter that once stood on the hill.31 This appropriation is one of ascendancy – whilst it recalls a splendor that once was, it intended to rival and surpass Rome’s ancient structures. With many all’antica elements recalling republican and imperial Rome, Michelangelo’s Campidoglio symbolized the two current governing facets: the communal council of the Conservatori and the pope as Pontifex Maximus. The site represented the city’s current achievements, significantly opening towards modern Rome, and facing the direction of the new St. Peter’s Basilica, which was under construction at the time. As head of its fabbrica, Michelangelo incorporated the giant order in the design for the basilica’s exterior as well.32 While presenting a new type of architectural discourse, these new centers, civic and sacred, further underscored the intention to restore Rome as both a municipal and spiritual power. The pioneering buildings of revival at both sites represented the city as a pair of fresh grandiose iconic monuments linked by the giant order.

As far as we know, Michelangelo left no definitive designs for the Capitol. After his death, various artists produced drawings and prints, which assimilated Michelangelo’s vision, such as those by Étienne Dupérac (Fig. 3). These drawings were part of a collection called Le Antiche Rovine di Roma nei disegni di Dupérac which focused on ancient monuments of Rome but, significantly, included only two modern structures, the Campidoglio and St. Peter’s Basilica.33 Dupérac's polished finish of the “Prospetto di palazzo e ordine gigante nell'esperienza architettonica del '500. Appunti e riflessioni,” Storia dell'arte 38–40 (Jan–Dec 1980), 267. The use of the Giant order in the 16th century became symbolic, denoting glorification and power.

31

Morrogh, 136.

32

James S. Ackerman, The architecture of Michelangelo: with a catalogue of Michelangelo's works (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1986), 65.

33Rudolf Wittkower, ed. Le Antiche Rovine di Roma nei disegni di Dupérac (Cinisello Balsamo: Silvana, 1990), 30, 32.

two sites in print form assisted in disseminating the city’s new prominent emblems, the ennobled civic center and the largest church in Christendom. Dupérac’s various engravings of both structures from 1567–69 emphasize the monumental nature of each edifice and were part of Antoine Lafréry’s Speculum Romanae Magnificentiae (Fig. 4).34 Furthermore, at the time of Michelangelo’s passing, no fully planned folio designs of his vision of St. Peter’s existed.35 Duperàc likely combined existing drawings by the architect with the models and the building in progress. Since neither St. Peter’s nor the Campidoglio were anywhere near completion at the time of the prints, their creation not only recorded the intended plans, but their circulation also helped spread the notion of Rome as a revived religious and political center.

Government ceremonial use of the Campidoglio was reestablished after the cordonata, the great ramp, was completed.

In the mid-seventeenth century, the piazza was added to the route of the possesso whereby the newly elected pope processed from the Vatican to the Lateran by crossing over the hill. This route reconfirmed the Capitol’s newfound importance and recalled its ancient function as the terminus of the imperial processions.36 The location has maintained its symbolic connotation into modern times. Michelangelo’s cosmological designs for the piazza, which reference Rome as the center of the universe, were not

realized until Mussolini commissioned the completion of the pavement according to the original designs.37 In 1937 Hitler made his entry into the city with the Campidoglio as part of the processional route. Clearly, the Capitol had been restored as a site of imperial continuity. Official restoration work began exactly four hundred years earlier when the statue of Marcus Aurelius was moved from the Lateran to the center of the hill. Revitalizing the site was directly inspired by Paul III’s ideas of the ancient splendor of Rome and the universal nature of Roman rule.38 Made possible by his patronage, Michelangelo’s new Capitol featuring the commanding giant order presented a high-profile architectural element as a symbol of supremacy which connected the Campidoglio with St. Peter’s, and communicated that Rome was once again caput mundi.

34

Renato Bunelli, “La Piazza Capitolina” in Michelagniolo Architetto, ed.

Paolo Portoghese and Bruno Zevi. Venice: Giulio Einaudi editore, 1964), 433. With this publication, collectors could pick and choose images by various printers of mostly ancient and a few modern Roman sites to compile in their folio. See also Anne Bedon, Il Campidoglio: storia di un monument civile nella Roma papale (Milan: Electa, 2008), 188– 199.

35

Heydenreich, 254.

36 Morrogh, 139. On the possesso see Irene Fosi, “Court and city in the ceremony of the possesso in the sixteenth century” in Court and politics in papal Rome, 1492–1700 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 2, and Maurizio Fagiolo dell’Arco, La Festa Barocco (Roma: De Luca, 1997), 46, 375.

31

37Stinger, 259–64. See also Herbert Siebenhüner, Das Kapitol in Rome: Idee und Gestalt (Munich: Kosel-Verlag, 1954), 91–92 who identifies this symbol as an effort to proclaim Rome again as caput mundi. See also Fritz Saxl, “The Capitol during the Renaissance – A symbol of Imperial Idea” in Lectures (London: Warburg Institutive, 1957), 210.

38Peter Partner, Renaissance Rome, 1500– 1559 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976), 35. See also Roger Crushing Aikin, “Romae de Dacia Triumphantis: Roma and the Captives at the Capitoline Hill,” Art Bulletin 62 (December 1980), 585.

Fig. 1 Michelangelo, Campidoglio, Rome, Italy.

Fig. 2 Michelangelo, Palazzo dei Conservatori, Rome, Italy, 1563–1584.

32

Fig. 3 Étienne Dupérac, drawing of the Campidoglio based on Michelangelo’s designs, part of Le Antiche Rovine di Roma nei disegni di Dupérac, mid 1560s.

Fig. 4 Étienne Dupérac, after Michelangelo’s plans for the Campidoglio, part of the Speculum Romanae Magnificentiae published by Antoine Lafréry, engraving, 1569.

33

etching with

Public space in Modern Rome: the case of Piazza Venezia.

Vittorio Vidotto, University of Rome “La Sapienza”

Per spazio pubblico intendo qui lo spazio politico pubblico. Da questo punto di vista Piazza Venezia è lo spazio pubblico simbolico più significativo della capitale italiana ed è lo specchio in cui si riflette la politica nazionale dalla fine dell’800 alla caduta del fascismo e oltre.

Roma, dopo il 1870, doveva dotarsi di spazi e edifici monumentali che confermassero il ruolo di nuova capitale dello Stato nazionale e la distinguessero dalla precedente funzione di capitale del cattolicesimo.

I due principali responsabili della trasformazione di piazza Venezia furono Depretis e Mussolini.

Depretis, presidente del Consiglio dei ministri e leader della sinistra liberaldemocratica, decide nel 1882 di collocare il grande monumento alla memoria di re Vittorio Emanuele II sulle pendici nord del colle capitolino sovrastanti piazza Venezia. Il monumento è il nuovo Campidoglio dell’Italia unita e mantiene questo ruolo dall’inaugurazione nel 1911 alla marcia su Roma (1922), quando comincia ad assumere una connotazione nazional-fascista.

Da quando palazzo Venezia diviene la sede del duce (1929) e la piazza luogo delle adunate, piazza Venezia si trasforma da piazza della nazione a piazza del fascismo, al vertice del nuovo spazio monumentale e celebrativo creato dagli sventramenti dei vecchi quartieri.

Con la sconfitta militare crollano i valori patriottici e nazionali che il fascismo e Mussolini avevano potentemente dilatato e collocato simbolicamente nello spazio occupato dalla piazza e dal monumento.

La piazza depotenziata vedrà annullata la sua dimensione politica pubblica e rimarrà aperto un conflitto simbolico tra la patria di tutti del Vittoriano e la patria fascista di piazza Venezia.

49

Public space in Modern Rome: the case of Piazza Venezia.

Vittorio Vidotto, University of Rome “La Sapienza”

By public space I mean public political space. From this point of view Piazza Venezia is the most important symbolic public space of the nation’s capital, and is the mirror which reflects national politics from the late 19th century to the fall of Fascism and beyond.

Rome after 1870 was equipped with monumental spaces and buildings which would confirm its role as the new capital of the national state, distinguishing it from its earlier function as capital of Catholicism.

The two chief figures responsible for the transformation of Piazza Venezia were Depretis and Mussolini. Depretris, president of the council of ministers and leader of the liberal democratic left, decided in 1882 to situate the imposing monument to the memory of Victor Emmanuel II on the northern slope of the Capitol, overlooking Piazza Venezia. The monument was the new Campidoglio of United Italy, which maintained its role from inauguration in 1911 to the March on Rome (1922) when it began to acquire national-fascist connotations.

When Palazzo Venezia became the Duce’s new headquarters (1929) and the piazza became the venue for mass public assembly, Piazza Venezia was transformed from the nation’s square to the square of Fascism, the hinge of the new monumental and celebratory space created by gutting out old districts of the city.

Upon military defeat, so crumbled the patriotic and national values which Fascism and Mussolini had potently developed, and situated symbolically in the square occupied by the monument.

Thus undermined, the political public dimension of the square was lost, opening a symbolic conflict between the inclusive nation of the Victor Emmanuel Monument and the Fascist nation of Piazza Venezia.

Invertire la privatizzazione, bilanciare la riforma del governo:

Mildred E. Warner Presentazione presso la Casa del Municipio, Municipio XI, Comune di Roma Aprile 2010 Cornell University, Dept. of City and Regional Planning, mew15@cornell.edu http://restructuringlocalgovernment.org

Premesse  Fine XX secolo: sperimentazioni di espansione del 

  

ruolo del mercato nella fornitura di servizi locali.

Incertezza dell’esperienza di privatizzazione  + Alcune innovazioni tecnologiche  + Allargamento scelta del consumatore  - Risparmio dei costi non rilevante  - Problemi di qualità e accesso ai servizi Inversioni verso la fine degli anni ‘90 Non un ritorno al tradizionale protagonismo dello stato, ma Passaggio verso una nuova posizione ibrida – offerta del mercato e dello stato

Inversioni  Regno Unito 

Fine del Compulsory Competitive Tendering (1998).

 Nuova Zelanda 

2002 riforma governo locale – ristabilisce le capacità e le responsabilità del governo

 Stati Uniti 

Orientamento pro-mercato, privatizzazione mai obbligatoria, picco degli appalti nel 1997

 Unione Europea – ancora pro-privatizzazione 



Obiettivo – Mercato europeo integrato Ignora problemi di mancanza di competizione

U.S.A: picco appalti 1997

Maggior importanza della fornitura pubblica e mista 100

PCT of Provision

Direct Public Delivery 52 54

18

50

59

17

18

Mixed Public/Private Delivery

24 28

33

1992

1997

18

30

Complete Contracting Out

0 2002

2007

Survey Years Provision Rates: 66%, 61%, 53%, 49% for 1992, 1997, 2002, 2007 Respectively N>1000 municipalities Source: International City/ County Management Association, Profile of Alternative Service Delivery Approaches, US Municipalities, 1992, 1997, 2002, 2007 Washington DC.

Cosa è la fornitura mista?  Gestione orientata al mercato – crea

competizione tra pubblico e privato  Ridondanza – assicura la provvisione dei servizi  Partnership pubblico/private  Benchmarking (prezzo di riferimento) – Produzione pubblica vs. privata  Co-produzione – partecipazione dei cittadini al processo di fornitura

Inversione della privatizzazione  I governi locali re-internalizzano i servizi

precedentemente appaltati  Perché invertire? (indagine 2007): 

   

Problemi con la qualità dei servizi (61%) Mancanza di risparmi sui costi (50%) Miglioramento interno del governo (37%) Interesse dei cittadini a ri-pubblicizzare il lavoro (17%) Problemi con i contratti di concessione (17%).

Privatizzazione = sperimentazione di nicchia Pari importanza re-internalizzazione e nuova esternalizzazione StabilitĂ della maggior parte dei servizi (pubblici o appaltati)

1992 to 1997

1997 to 2002

Backin 11% Ne w Cont.

18%

Stable Public 44% Stable Cont.

27%

Backin Ne w 18% Cont.

12% Stable Cont.

27%

2002 to 2007

Stable Public 43%

New Cont.

12%

Backin 13% Stable Public 46% Stable Cont.

29%

Average percent of total provision across all places.

Source: ICMA Survey of Alternative Service Delivery Approaches, 1992, 1997, 2002, 2007 Washington DC. US Municipalities Paired samples. N=500-600 (Hefetz and Warner 2004, 2007)

Oltre la contrattazione – Beni impuri (club good), promesse e sfide  Club good: soluzioni di mercato da parte di gruppi

volontari per beni pubblici  

Gated community, parchi privati, trasporti, ecc.

Innovativi, flessibili, spontanei

 Reificano la proprietà come base per la cittadinanza   

I club funzionano perché possono escludere Si crea una città “privata” Potenziale di coordinazione e redistribuzione messo a repentaglio

 Giustificano una concezione economica della cittadinanza

– diritti basati sulla capacità di acquisto 

Viene facilitata la riduzione della responsabilità pubblica per la fornitura dei servizi

 La privatizzazione sposta il contratto sociale, mina i diritti

dei cittadini ai servizi

Implicazioni per il governo  La costruzione di comunità come ultimo bene pubblico  Spazi pubblici e servizi pubblici come meccanismo che permette ai cittadini di imparare ad impegnarsi oltre le differenze  Il quadro istituzionale per I mercati è socialmente

costruito 

Richiede capacità governativa (standard di regolazione, leggi anti-trust, capacità di imposizione)

 Ruolo del governo: gestione di mercato, capacità

pianificatoria, impegno democratico 

Le re-internalizzazione riflette un approccio più bilanciato: mercato, pianificazione, deliberazione

La sfida – trovare l’equilibrio Approccio equilibrato alla riforma del governo Mercati Competizione, gestione e scelta del consumatore

Democrazia Voto e dibattito, responsabilità pubblica

Pianificazione Gestione tecnica e partecipazione pubblica

Cicli di riforme del governo Ogni riforma crea nuovi problemi I ciclo

II ciclo

III ciclo

Gestione pubblica tradizionale 1900-1930

Nuova gestione pubblica 1980- anni ‘90

A. Network Governance 2000

B. Nuovo servizio pubblico 2000

Obiettivo: Processo necessario di responsabilizzazione

Obiettivo: Velocità, efficienza, flessibilità

Obiettivo: Gestione a rete

Obiettivo: Servizio per I cittadini

Approccio: Pianificazione burocratica, gerarchia, comando e controllo

Approccio: Competitività del mercato e gestione basata sul rendimento

Approccio: Affidamento basato sulle relazioni, Partnership pubblico/private

Approccio: Coinvolgimento del pubblico, democrazia

Problema: Lentezza, inefficienza, sovrabbondanza

Problema: Mancanza di controllo, responsabilità, consumatore vs. cittadino

Problema: Mancanza di controllo, collusione

Problema: Ineguaglianza nella partecipazione, lentezza

I Territori dei Frangipane e dei Pierleoni nell’Epoca degli Antipapi (XI-XII sec.)

Lila Yawn, Cornell University

Frangipane and Pierleoni Territories in the Era of the Antipopes (11th-12th Centuries) Lila Yawn, Cornell University

Nella Roma del sec. XI-XII le definizioni più ovvie dello spazio pubblico – lo spazio con accesso pubblico e/o spazio di proprietà, sotto il controllo, o amministrato dal res publica – sono problematiche. Le fonti primarie indicano strutture e spazi che sembrano più o meno accessibili al pubblico: le porte della città e le strade pubbliche; i ponti antichi ancora in esistenza; moli lungo il Tevere; meraviglie antiche descritte nel Mirabilia. Tuttavia, arrivati nel periodo in oggetto molti spazi che prima erano pubblici sono venuti via via sotto il controllo di enti laici ed ecclesiastici, alcuni dei quali regolavano fra l’altro l’accesso alla città e il passaggio al suo interno. Pedaggi furono imposti ad alcune porte della città da determinate chiese, mentre le famiglie più potenti, quali i Frangipane ed i Pierleoni, fortificavano monumenti antichi per il proprio utilizzo.

I rapporti tra i Pierleoni ed i Frangipani avrebbero continuato a dominare la storia della città dal 1130, quando Gregorio Papareschi e Pietro Pierleoni furono eletti entrambi papa nello stesso girono, sino al 1143, quando Giordano Pierleoni diventa patricius del nuovo governo civico romano sul Campidoglio.

,

15

For eleventh- and twelfth-century Rome the most obvious definitions of public space— space to which the public has access, and/or land owned, controlled, or administered by the res publica—are problematic. Primary sources name structures and spaces that appear to have been more or less available to the public: city gates and public streets; the surviving ancient bridges; docks along the Tiber; ancient wonders described in the

Mirabilia.23 By the period in question, however, much formerly public space had gradually come under the control of private lay and ecclesiastical entities, some of whom also regulated passage into and through the city. Tolls at some city gates were collected by specific churches (e.g. S. Silvestro in Capite at porta sancti Valentini), while powerful families, such as the Frangipane and Pierleoni, fortified ancient monuments for their own use. Within the circuit walls of these urban compounds, terrains might be given out in lease to members of the

23 The principal sources of information for this paper are L. Bianchi, Case e Torri Medioevali a Roma. Documentazione, storia e sopravvivenza di edifici medioevali nel tessuto urbano di Roma, I, 1998; P. Carmassi, “Die hochmittelalterlichen Fresken der Unterkirche von San Clemente in Rom als programmatische Selbsdarstellung des Reformspapsttums. Neue Einsichten zur Bestimmung des Entstehungskontexts,” Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken, 81, 2001, 1-66; T. di Carpegna Falconieri, Le trasformazioni onomastiche e antroponimiche dei ceti dominanti a Roma dei secoli X-XII,” Mélanges de l’École française de Rome.

Moyen Age, 106, 1994, 594-640; Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, 3 (17-19), 50 (222225), 52 (807-811); P. Fedele, ed., Tabularium S. Mariae Novae ab. an. 982 ad an. 1200, in Archivio della reale Società romana di storia patria, 24, 1901, 159-196; L. Hamilton, “Memory, Symbol, and Arson: Was Rome ‘Sacked’ in 1084?,” Speculum, 78, 2003, 378399; R. Krautheimer, Rome: Profile of a City, 312-1308, 2000; J.-C. Maire Vigueur and H. Broise, “Strutture familiari, spazio domestico e architettura civile a Roma alla fine del Medioevo,” Storia dell’arte italiana, pt. 3, 1983, 99-160; F. Marazzi, I «Patrimonia Sanctae Romanae Ecclesiae» nel Lazio (secoli IV-X), 1998; R. Rea and S. Orlandi, in The Colosseum, ed. A. Gabucci, 2000, 161-227; L. Moscati, Alle origini del comune romano.

Economia società istituzioni, 1980; I. S. Robinson, “Periculosus homo: Pope Gregory VII and Episcopal Authority,” Viator, 9, 1978, 103-131; M. Royo, "« Rome des quartiers » : Des vici aux rioni. Cadres institutionnels, pratiques sociales, et requalifications entre Antiquité et époque moderne, 2008; C. Wickham, “Iuris cui existens,” Archivio della Società Romana di Storia Patria, 131, 2008, 538.

16

possessor’s clientele, who benefitted from other basic services provided by their landlords—an oven, a well. By the late tenth century, the church of S. Maria Nova, built into the ancient Temple of Venus and Roma near the Colosseum, had become the hub of its own hamlet, with houses, gardens, and orchards set in and around the area’s titanic antiquities.

By 1192 the neighborhood included at least forty houses and a set of public baths. In this urban mosaic, unobstructed access and passage were a possibility, at best, especially during the papal-imperial struggles of the eleventh and twelfth centuries.

A second possible definition of public space, land presided over by the res publica, is complicated by the difficulty of defining what constituted the res publica in the central and early high Middle Ages in Rome.

The popes had assumed administrative leadership in the city after the end of antiquity. Yet who owned the city streets, ports, gates, and land and bore responsibility for their upkeep was ambiguous and rendered even vaguer by the distinction in Roman law between ownership and possession. In the 1140s the newly reconstituted Roman senate took charge of the gates, walls, and tolls, but in the preceding decades the popes seem to have done little for the streets, which were often poorly maintained, while tolls were collected by local entities for their own use. Although the early medieval Church had imposed its claims over Rome and environs through the gradual appropriation of the rights of the East Roman imperial apparatus and via continuous physical presence, documentation, and administration, its power over the land was contested by clans and consorterie, who arrogated power through the assumption of Church offices while also obtaining direct control over terrains given out by the Church in emphyteusis. These long leases gave the Church civil and military clients, albeit clients who were also potential enemies with their own fortified urban enclaves.

Fragmentation within the Church further complicated the situation, particularly during the papal schisms of the eleventh and early twelfth centuries. One of the longest, severest struggles followed the Synod of Brixen (1080), when philo-imperial bishops, convened by Henry IV and angered by Gregory VII’s assault on their traditional rights, declared Pope Gregory VII deposed

and elected a new pope in his place. Henry was excommunciated and answered with a siege, capturing the Leonine city in 1083 and entering Rome proper in 1084. The imperial pope-elect, Clement III (Wibert of Ravenna), was consecrated at St. John Lateran, Henry crowned emperor, and Gregory VII spirited away to Salerno by his Norman allies, after they had burned strategically located buildings in Rome.

Gregory was supported during the siege by Cencio Frangipane and by the Pierleoni, who were forced to retreat to the Tiber island, in their own territory. The support of both families for the Gregorian-line popes continued, although in the Frangipane’s case only into the early twelfth century. In 1093 Johannes Frangipane housed Urban II (10881099) and his entourage when Urban first succeeded in establishing himself definitively in Rome. Clement III’s supporters were still holding the Lateran, but Urban II used the palatium frangipanis as a base for his campaign to gain control of the cathedral and of St. Peter’s. Urban died in 1099 while a guest of the Pierleoni in their palace near the Theater of Marcellus.

Clement III’s allies were still active in the city, and the transport of Urban’s body across Trastevere for burial in St. Peter’s Basilica encountered multiple obstacles.

The Frangipane’s relations with the Pierleoni and with a group of putative Frangipane clients, the family of a Sasso macellarius documented near S. Maria Nova in the twelfth century, underline the mercurial character of the fragmented medieval city and above all the changeability of the nexus between (formerly public) urban space and political alliance. On the basis of twelfthcentury documents attesting the presence near S. Maria Nova, and thus in Frangipane territory, of a family in which the appellation “macellarius” appears in successive generations, some historians of Roman painting have surmised that Maria Macellaria, co-patroness of the important eleventh-century fresco cycle in the lower basilica of S. Clemente in Rome, was a Frangipane associate or client and by implication a Gregorian partisan. Maria is documented only in the frescoes, however, and her kinship with the macellarii of S. Maria Nova is not demonstrable.

“Macellarius” does not appear to have functioned as a bona fide surname among the kinsmen of the “Sasso macellarius” attested repeatedly in the area of S. Maria

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Nova in the twelfth century—Sasso’s father was also called “macellarius,” but Sasso’s brother Gregorius was not.

More importantly for Maria’s supposed Gregorian leanings, the earliest mention of Sasso and his kinsmen in the area of S. Maria Nova dates to 1123, by which time the Frangipane had become antagonists of the Gregorianline popes. According to the Liber Pontificalis, in January of 1118 a Cencio Frangipani, clearly a different Cencio from the events of 1084, broke into a conclave in S. Maria in Pallara on the Palatine Hill, near the Frangipane fortress and not far from S. Maria Nova, and dragged the newly elected Pope Gelasius II off, imprisoning him in a Frangipane tower on Capitoline Hill. Cencio was apparently supported in that effort by other members of his family, and in July of 1118 the Frangipane again took up arms against Gelasius, then at S. Prassede on the Esquiline for the saint’s feast day. In 1121 Gelasius’ successor, Calixtus II, had the Frangipane’s towers in Rome destroyed.

The Frangipane’s radical shift of behavior seems to have been tied to their relationship with the Pierleoni, one of whom, Pietro, in 1116 had become cardinal deacon of Sts. Cosmas and Damian, S. Maria Nova’s nextdoor neighbor. The same year, Paschal II attempted to replace the city prefect, Pietro Corsi, with another member of the Pierleoni family, thus upsetting the Roman nobles, especially the Frangipane, to such an extent that Paschal was forced to abandon the city.

With Pietro Pierleoni as cardinal of SS. Cosmas and Damian and his kinsman as urban prefect, the Pierleoni were becoming intolerably powerful, especially in Frangipane territory. This rising status of the Frangipane’s former allies almost certainly encouraged Cencio’s intervention in the conclave of 1118 and his violence against Gelasius II, in whose election Pietro Pierleoni had played a notable role.

Relations between the Pierleoni and Frangipane would continue to occupy a central place in Roman and papal history in the 1130s—in 1130 Gregorio Papareschi and Pietro Pierleoni were elected pope on the same day, the former in S. Gregorio, not far from the palatium frangipanis—and down to the renovatio senatus of 1143, when Giordano Pierleoni became patricius of the city’s new civil government on the Capitoline.