/26 Habitare
#26 Habitare, Editorial


Living a place, a city, a neighborhood, a house, a room.

In some cases, a shelter which we wish to leave from every day and where we want to go back every day to be able to end up again. The house does not acquire value only as a physical space, but also as an instrument and active witness of the life of its inhabitants, its relations, of its forces and tensions field. A sort of emotional geography that brings us back to an embryonic and intimate state of the existence, where imagination and experience find literally abode. At the same time it is a theatrical backdrop for important themes: life, love, death. As in the magnificent film by Yasujirō Ozu where domestic stories about the traditional structure of the Japanese family become the way to tell the symptoms of its progressive decay. An inventory of the everyday things where an apparently solid world fall apart to make room for a new uncertain balance yet, risen from its ruins.

In other cases, metropolis is one of our worst obsessions. Dystopian readings of illusory models, where the ability of human adaptation far exceeds the imagination of the visionary designer. Overpopulated megalopolis, under increasing demographic and migratory pressures, reflect the contradictions of contemporary society. Modernists beehives, made up by hundreds of stacked and standardized living cells, have become the banner of contemporary world, though often hide inside a secret dimension and some filled borderline social situations. Working and resting fields blend and mix each other until they become blurred.

In some other cases, commercial and service purposes which must demonstrate the expressive capabilities of technological luxury and financial power are sustained by a precarious form of social fragility. Nowadays, these vertical modern ecosystems appear as new entities, hybrids and mutants, advanced expression of an architecture without architects.