That doesn't mean there aren't some things to see. Gather your pedestrian skills and cross Corso Italia with the traffic coming down via Salaria. There, on the southwest corner, you'll find a bland 1950s building, now occupied by Barclay's Bank. Bland, yes, but over the entrance to the left, now looking north, are a curious set of painted protusions affixed to the wall. Like a fifties album cover. Cool, man!
Across via Piave (the extension of via Salaria) is one of Rome's few neo-Gothic structures, with those pointed windows that seem so out of place in this mostly neo-classical city.
And on that building--appropriately on via Piave--note the large plaque honoring the Italian soldiers who fought and died in a dramatic and successful effort to hold off an advancing Austro-Hungarian force at the Piave River in northeast Italy during World War I.
Walk up the street, toward the piazza (beware motorists turning left!) and enjoy the interesting section of the wall and a bunch of columns in front of it (we have no explanation for this craziness, except it's eclectic Rome at its best).
Across the street, an underground bookstore boasts a section of Roman wall, jutting out into the room, and black and white photos of the city here and there.
It was the second La Rinascente store in Rome (the first, opened in 1887, was until recently at the corner of via del Corso and via del Tritone--the building still exists), and Albini and Helg used the basic massing of that first store in their design for this one. Beyond that, the modern store, for all its apparent ordinariness, was new, fresh and innovative, inside and out. The structure is of reinforced concrete and steel frame. The exterior infill panels--an outstanding feature--are of masonry, not flat but folded--Baroque "movement" in the facade design, some say--and tinted to recall the color of porcelain in ancient Rome. One observer has described it as a "Renaissance facade redone with contemporary technology."
Another important feature is the substantial, open, steel cornice, referencing Michelangelo's cornice--surely the most famous in the city--for the Palazzo Farnese.
The Sorgente Group, which has owned the building since 2006, claims that La Rinascente "is considered the best example of the setting of a modern building within the historical context of the city." Architectural critic Reyner Banham, likely to be less biased, nonetheless shares the Sorgente Group's admiration, while noting the limitations imposed by the era. Albini, he notes, faced severe "cultural restraints." "He was designing a building for a conspicuous site in the history-laden ambiente of Rome, at a time when the historical nerve of most Italian architects had failed almost completely (these were the years of Neoliberty nostalgia)."
Inside, you'll find a modern department store, recently refurbished. Shop 'til you drop. And as you do, consider three elements of the interior. On the top floor there's a modern bar/cafe. Avoid it or embrace it as you choose, but don't miss a chance to look out the windows, where you'll have an extreme close-up view of the steel cornice.
Descending on the escalators, you should know that these were installed in 2011 by the firm of Tim Power Architects, perhaps replacing an elevator. The Tim Power firm makes much of this makeover, emphasizing the importance of redoing the building's circulation so that customers could reach the upper floors rapidly and without waiting. (The Power folks even cite starchitect Rem Koolhaas, for whom escalators are a "key metaphor for the expanding city.")
The Albini/Helg staircase |
It may well be the most sensational staircase in Rome, though modernists will claim that honor for Luigi Moretti's chiocciola in the ex-GIL (a Fascist-era youth center) at the intersection of viale di Trastevere and via G. Induno.
The Borromini/Maderno staircase |
Bill
1 comment:
Another wonderful piece Bill. None of which I previously knew. When I saw the stair, I thought, I bet he won't mention the Barberini one, but sure enough you immediately did! A tiny typo: its Carlo Maderno.
Richard Peterson
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