A Day on the Periphery: Torre di Righetti, and the Pleasures of Trullo

There's a plan afoot--it's even been funded--to repristinare (redo, clean up, refurbish) Torre di Righetti, a mid-19th-century tower, constructed for hunting (so we read), and the hill on which it sits: Monte Cucco. We had heard of Monte dei Cocci (another name for Monte Testaccio) and Monte Ciocci (Valle Aurelia, a flank of Monte Mario), but Monte Cucco remained a mystery. We found it on the outskirts of Trullo, one of our favorite near-in towns/suburbs, which is located south of long and winding via Portuense and west of the totally unwalkable viale Isacco Newton. Too far to walk, and not easy to get to.

Transportation Czar Dianne figured it out. Train from Stazione Tiburtina to the Magliana stop. Up the stairs to the bus stop, 719 bus 7 stops to the base of Monte Cucco. Perfect.

A few missteps up the hill, then asked a guy driving out of the only farmhouse (well fenced in) where the "Torre" was, then back down and up the only real "road."

Up the road. Nothing in sight yet. 

And there it was, virtually alone on the barren hilltop. In two years (or never) it will be rebuilt and, so we've read, will host art shows. We'll believe that when we see it. The Monte is to have bike paths and benches. The time to see the torre, and the monte, is now, in its evocative "ruins" state, as it's been for decades.

Dianne refused to enter Torre Righetti (fearing for her safety - crumbling buildings and all) until I mentioned that the hole in the center reminded me of the "light artist" James Turrell. 

To one side, superb views of two of EUR's most prominent buildings: the Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana (aka the Square Coliseum, now owned by Fendi) and the Basilica dei Santi Pietro e Paolo. They look closer than they are in the photo below.

As we learned from a small mural later that day in downtown Trullo, the hilltop was the site of a 1966 film by Pier Paolo Pasolini: "Uccellacci e Uccellini" ("Hawks and Sparrows"), starring Toto and Ninetto Davoli. (All our Roman friends knew the film and the locale, though they hadn't been there.)  A tree depicted in the mural (and presumably in the film) no longer exists. The Basilica appears in the mural.

Monte Cucco is also home to other ruins: a substantial villa/farmhouse, near a clump of trees. These are the ruins of early-19th-century Villa Baccelli, which belonged to  Guido Baccelli, Minister of Education several times in the early years of the State of Italy and, later, his son Alfredo. Higher up the hill we found what appears to have been a facility for animals (maybe feeding troughs). The farmhouse ruins include a long, steep, and deep tunnel (the opening to it freaked out Dianne too). We read the tunnel accesses what are known as Fairy Grottoes (le grotte delle fate), an underground quarry and caves, dating to the 6th century BCE and understood to be the residence of the God Silvanus (for the Latins) and Selvans (for the Etruscans). In the early 20th century the caves were used as an aircraft shelter.  

What's left of Villa Baccelli 

Tunnel to the "Fairy Grottoes," dating to the 6th century BCE 

 

What we thought were feeding troughs in an out-building.

It's just a 10-minute walk from the Torre to downtown Trullo (backtracking on the 719 bus route) and well worth the journey. Trullo is full of exceptional outdoor wall art, often presented with prose and poetry, and much of it on the sides of buildings that compose a 1940-era public housing project, still in decent shape and illustrative of an era when public authorities in the West still built housing for those with modest incomes. Just a sample or two to follow--don't want to spoil the experience. 

At the town's main intersection there's a substantial interior market and a couple of nice bars. That's Dianne enjoying a cafe Americano with a mural behind her.  The barista, who at first greeted us coolly, was very excited and voluble when he found we were not immediately going back to the United States but spent months in Rome.  After initially "overcharging" us, he gave us the locals' price, and free chocolate.

And, up a broad stair, what once was the city hall, now covered, in rather spectacular fashion, by leftist graffiti, wall art, and prose. For some years the building was occupied by leftist organizations, but at the moment it appears to be empty and closed. Enjoy the exterior before it, too, is "repristinatoed." 

A painting--and a poem--on the facade of what once was Trullo's city hall. Some of the writing here celebrates 30 years of "occupation" of the building (1987-2017), and the graffiti "spray artist" is writing "I hate prison. I love liberty."

As you walk around you may (or may not) see giant electrical towers. One by one they're being removed; those that remain are no longer functioning. 

To return to Rome: follow the main road (via del Trullo - not too pedestrian friendly, but walkable) south (retracing the bus route), then west to the frequent train at the Magliana stop, below.

Bill 

Dreaming--ala Romana

 

Sognare: to dream. Sogno: a dream

Everyone dreams. But it's also possible that cultures dream differently, or think differently about what it means to "dream." More concretely--and based only on a few weeks of walking Rome's streets and reading the newspapers--it seems to us that the word "dream," and variations on it, is used more frequently in Rome than it would be in an American city and, arguably, that it's used differently.

One Sunday morning this year, looking for an open newsstand in the neighborhood of San Lorenzo, we came upon this piece of shutter art. "Who is keeping us from dreaming," it asks, as if the act of dreaming was somehow being frustrated, by someone, or some entity, or some condition.

In nearby Piazza dei Sanniti, where Pier Paolo Pasolini ate his last meal, the words "Balla, Sogna, Lotta"--Dance, Dream, Struggle--beneath an artwork by Sten and Lex, suggest something similar: not only the need to dream, but the difficulty of doing so in a world--and a society--that challenges the dream.

In this case, the dream is particularly intense because the message is affixed to one of San Lorenzo's most contested structures, a building that is a symbol of community, creativity, and social commitment and, during covid, a place where one could find food. Once the home of a movie theater, it was occupied by progressives in 2011, to prevent it from becoming a casino. A decade later, the authorities kicked everyone out. In this case, to "dream" means to hold onto the idea of what the building once was--maybe even hold onto the building--while opposing the plans of developers. A photo of the buildings in Piazza dei Sanniti is at the end of this post. 

"Dance, dream, struggle. Even now, in the cold. Look at us. I love flowers"

This last-minute addition, by way of "The King," was found in Ostiense: "Follow the dream, wherever it may take you."

The newspapers present different varieties of dreaming. A travel article describes the beaches of the Marche region as "un mare da sogno"--a sea to dream about. The Roma soccer club, having tied a crucial match only to lose on an "own goal," earns the headline: "Paredes fa sognare la Roma, poi la beffa" (Paredes [who had two goals, both on penalty kicks] allows Rome to dream, then the mockery)--again, the dream as frustration. 

And the "sogno" of having 24-hour Metro service in Rome, as cities in the United States do:

Just days before that Sunday morning, some 1400 people signed up to take the exam to fill 439 positions driving a bus. Among the applicants were women and many young people with Bachelor's degrees. "Molti sognano," reads the newspaper account, "di fare l'autista di bus" (many dream of being a bus driver). Maybe ironic--and maybe not. 

This window advertisement by BNL Bank appears to use a Bassett Hound [could be a Dachshund] (and a pun involving the word Bassotta [a combination of two words meaning low: basso and sotto]) to announce "low" rates that will help you achieve your Roman dreams:

And this bit of graffiti, on the wall of a prominent San Lorenzo park, fronting on via Tiburtina: "Solo sognare ci terra' svegli." Our Roman friend M., a skilled translator, helped us with this one: "Only dreaming will keep us awake." "The apparent contradiction" (between dreaming and waking), he noted, "makes me think of the necessity and constant effort of keeping dreams alive. And I guess here the writer was thinking of the great dreams of humankind, such as love, peace, and equality." 

Thanks so much, M., for your translation and thoughtful elaboration. Perfect.

Bill 

Nuovo Cinema Palazzo is at left. The restaurant frequented by Pasolini is at right.