The Architecture of Breathtaking Simplicity
The pandemic has nudged society to re-evaluate the idea of home, community and genuine living – green spaces and sustainable food production being part of the picture – calling for a not-so-gentle reminder that we are part of something bigger than society as we know it. Some of us know this instinctively whilst others need reminding, but today more than ever this is a debate worth exploring, both from a social and urban point of view.
Italian singer-songwriter Fabrizio de Andrè once said: “Life in Sardinia is perhaps the best a man can hope for: twenty four thousand miles of forests, countryside, lost in spectacular sea coasts. This should coincide with what I'd recommend God to give us as Paradise.” Charmed by the poetic and wild landscapes of Tempio’s Monte Limbara (North East of Sardinia), he decided to buy a piece of land and moved there in the 1980s with his partner Dori and son Cristiano, slowly and carefully adding elements to the surrounding landscape. The house where they lived – now a Boutique Hotel and memorial – is a restored old stazzo (a typical Sardinian house that would often include a surrounding allotment and an adjacent farm) covered in ivy and surrounded by Eden-like gardens, with a nearby farm the singer curated himself. It was perhaps his artistic sense that enabled him to grasp the uniqueness of the place and to instinctively live in harmony with the natural world.
I have often been asked the question: “Why are Sardinian people so stubborn when it comes to adapting to modern infrastructures? Sardinia has so much potential!” I instantly thought about the saying “If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree…” You know how that ends. In a similar way, if you judge a place like Sardinia by its capacity to host ginormous buildings that disrupt the landscape with the only purpose of attracting a wider and lauder audience of tourists, then you are doing the place a massive disservice and failing to understand where its potential lives. A sensible and intelligent developer knows the difference between cities and towns, and is able to bring the best out of each different environment. Of course this could be almost considered a utopia if we look at the built environment around us, but things seem to be taking a slightly different turn in the current climate.
Sometimes, it is more about where than what, as we can see in Dante Bini's Dome (La Cupola), a great example of breathtaking simplicity. Antonioni’s fine tuning to architecture shines through the use of space and landscape in his cinematographic narrative, with atmospheric affinities between his work and his villa in Sardinia. The house was designed to be an isolated, romantic love nest with sensational views of the dramatic coastline. The simplicity of the building extends to its making: concrete shell structures, in particular Isler’s ‘form-found’ Swiss shells, are structurally efficient and elegantly enclose huge volumes with a small amount of material, making them eco-friendly.
Relatively recently designers all over the world have embarked on a journey of rediscovering more sustainable materials and building techniques, unbaked clay being amongst the most popular. This technique was widely spread in the south of Sardinia until the breakthrough of concrete in the 70s. However, we can still see entire villages built using this method. The idea – and necessity – to use local organic materials, created a conglomerate of buildings that were, in fact, an extension of earth itself, as if the fields were made of a malleable substance you could shape into houses and shops. The same "necessity rule" applies to various other villages in the territory made with local resources such as granite, stone, bricks and so on. This basic yet highly efficient way of urban planning started as a need and, as a result, gave each place a distinctive identity that is in harmony with the context it inhabits.
Unlike animals, which build their homes with organic materials and predominantly with practicality in mind - although there are some fantastic species that come with an impeccable eye for design - we humans need to satisfy our aesthetic sense and so we build astonishing, complex buildings that are pleasant to the eye and hopefully comfortable to inhabit. But we should be able to do so with grace and awareness, in the right place and at the right time.
Besides having written some of the finest and most poetic songs in the history of Italian music, de Andrè was perhaps one of the few adopted Sardinians to fully appreciate the island for what it is: uncontaminated beauty inhabited by people who instinctively know that such an uncut gem is a treasure to preserve.