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It took 500 years to complete the great Duomo of Milan, and there’s one vantage point that really helps you …
31 Saturday Mar 2012
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This gallery contains 7 photos.
It took 500 years to complete the great Duomo of Milan, and there’s one vantage point that really helps you …
21 Wednesday Mar 2012
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My friend Friederike (of Clean Team fame) claims that bringing a decrepit ruin back to life is an act of poetry. She should know; she’s done it twice. In Milan, there’s evidence that poetic renovation is not a recent phenomenon. Tucked away in the high-end fashion district, on Via San Spirito, is a museum that was once the home of two very poetic brothers, Fausto and Giuseppe Bagatti-Valsecchi.
Although they lived in 19th century Milan, their vision was to create a palazzo that perfectly reflected the Renaissance period in Italy, particularly Lombardy artifacts from the late 1500s and early 1600s. Their house became, in effect, a living museum of the period they most admired. Every domestic object, work of art, piece of furniture, wall of paneling, fireplace mantel or stone frieze in their extensive collection was incorporated into their daily life.
The opulent bathroom. Lacking a magnificent Renaissance stone shower stall, Godzilla will have to rely on its view.
If a piece they found was damaged or didn’t quite fit the space they intended for it, they had it repaired or made complete by craftsmen expert in the methods of the object’s original period. Thus, for example, the wooden coffered ceiling taken from a Renaissance period palazzo and modified, with no trace of the change, to fit the ceiling of the Camera Rossa. Or the period stone bath retrofitted discreetly for running water, a plumbing modernization of their own era.
Today, thanks to a foundation set up by their descendants, you can visit the Bagatti Valsecchi home and see it just as it was when they lived there. It’s my absolute favorite museum in Milan. The incredible attention to detail resulting from their passion for the architecture and artifacts of the period, and the grace with which it’s all been put together, is an act of love. And poetry.
For more about the Museo Bagatti Valsecchi, visit here:
14 Wednesday Mar 2012
For anyone who might be thinking about restoring a villa in the Italian countryside, this is my one best piece of advice: be a locarenovator! Source your contractor, geometra and materials from the community in which you’re building.
Godzilla's contractor Angelo with baby and wife Stefania (who's part of the family who runs the local bar and restaurant)
We’ve made a lot of mistakes with our villa – mostly with regards to understanding how much stuff actually had to be done to make it livable, and how much money it would take. More about that tale of woe another time! The one thing we have done right is to hire people who live within a 20 minute drive, and to buy our materials from about the same radius. Why is this so important?
Geometra Nadia, who somehow always knows what I'm trying to say even when I complete massacre the grammar.
For one thing, everyone who’s got something to do with the outcome knows each other. They all run into each other (and sometimes us) at the bar, the bakery, or Saturday night’s festa. They went to school together. They know each others’ babies. Their interconnection is vital for getting things done.
And, more than that, I believe fervently that the project, however sporadic our activity, should benefit the community in which we seek to be welcome. It seems only right.
One last piece of advice: learn the language. You can’t participate if you don’t. You end up being a mere stranger demanding service, and it will never be as good. Italians are the most forgiving people on earth towards those who butcher their beautiful language, so there’s really no excuse. Go forth fearlessly and learn to be local.
06 Tuesday Mar 2012
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Since my mastery of video editing is really, really limited, I’ve decided to give you a house tour using stills for now. The house is ‘semi-interrata‘ which means the bottom floor is open to the outdoors on one side, but the earth is built up around the other three. So the original entrance leads to what will be the cantina (basement), which is not really counted as part of the livable house.
Bottom middle door was the main entrance. The door above it will have a wee balcony (it belongs to the reading nook you'll see later).
You can see how the earth is built up around the other sides of the house. To the left, just visible, is the concrete structure shown in the photo below.
And the concrete structure (the old toilet) is being removed so a new entrance, with French doors, can be created. That way we can directly enter the new kitchen from the garden.
Back to the cantina. When you first enter on the bottom floor, this is the main room. In order to make it legally livable we have to excavate the floor, so for now we're just going to clean it up and leave it as general unlived-in basement space.
From that room we go up the stairs towards the living room and kitchen, on what becomes the main floor.
The living/dining room, as seen from the stairs. The partially removed wall will be completely removed in the future.
The third bedroom is currently accessed through the master, so we're reworking the (massive stone) wall between them in order to be able to get to this room off the hall.
That’s it! I hope this helps you visualize the whole house a little better. Look at the photos along with the floor plans from the previous blog and hopefully you’ll be able to see how it all fits together.