Barbara Weiss explains that visiting Bologna with James Stirling as travel companion was a crucial element in her understanding of urban stewardship.
As the daughter of an American mother and an Italian father, my childhood was largely spent in Milan, though I also lived for a while in New York and subsequently visited regularly. Inevitably, these two very different early urban experiences gave me an enduring taste for large, exciting and ever-evolving international metropolises, and for the plethora of much smaller, mind-blowingly beautiful historic Italian cities that I encountered during local travels.
In recognising the tension between these two backgrounds, I developed at a young age a deep interest in cities, comparing the advantages and disadvantages – and different lifestyles – offered by each; to the point that I vividly remember feeling mortified that, out of all Italian cities, my family had chosen to live in Milan, the outlier with the unflattering reputation of having at its core a Swiss or German DNA.
Bologna first appeared on my radar as the birthplace of my teenage sweetheart. His family spoke with Bologna’s charming lilt, and cooked homemade pasta the likes of which I had never tasted before. I was introduced by them to this historic city, the home of Europe’s first ever university – and to the beauty of its languid pre-Apennine hills to the south, the much-loved green Colli that mark a distinct yet soft boundary between urban and countryside. In a country that has never excelled in controlling urban spread, the Bolognesi’s ability to move effortlessly between two completely different environments has always seemed to me a great luxury.
In exploring the city over the following years, I came to appreciate it for all its exceptional urban components, landmarks and artworks. It is, however, its unique matter-of-fact and unselfconscious lifestyle, its resistance to falling into the rarefied, museum-quality trap embraced by so many other Italian cities, that appeals to me so much and puts it at the top of my list.
Introducing James Stirling to a city I loved so much was a unique thrill, particularly as he spotted so much no one else would have noticed”
Bologna is for real, not for show. As you wander through its exceptional Centro Storico, dipping in and out of the stunning– and oh so practical! – portici (continuous masonry ‘umbrellas’ protecting against rain and sun) you encounter mouth-watering food markets, intriguing artisan shops and every manner of quaint business or service.
My second significant encounter with Bologna coincided with my first year of Architecture at Geneva University, where I launched with great enthusiasm into an excellent urban studies course led by Italo Insolera, focusing specifically on the ‘Bologna experiment’. Run by Pier Luigi Cervellati, an inspiring urbanist and leading politician in the Communist Party council that so successfully governed the city for many decades, its goal was to pre-empt the loss of Bologna’s Centro Storico’s character by stopping the rampant gentrification that had hollowed out the heart of too many other cities. Cervellati’s regeneration model, designed to preserve housing and workshops for ordinary Bolognesi, is still crucial in my thinking about urban stewardship. It has also increased my awareness of the need for enlightened leadership, positive political thinking, and a deep understanding of what really makes cities great.
I had another close encounter with Bologna nearly a decade later. I was working at Stirling Wilford and Associates when the practice was instructed to develop a masterplan for a large settlement a few miles west of Bologna, in Casalecchio di Reno. The scheme became the focus of my life, as I worked on it from inception. I also enjoyed travelling several times to Bologna with James Stirling. Introducing Jim to a city I loved so much was a unique thrill, particularly as he always spotted so much that no one else would have noticed, and had a unique take on everything.
The scheme did not get built. This was probably for the best; in hindsight, the three round skyscrapers and triangular piazza might not have been right for Casalecchio di Reno. It was nonetheless for me an incredibly formative design experience. Many decades have gone by since then, and the world and my life have moved on in unexpected ways. I have been back to Bologna a few times, but sadly never with the intensity of those early life-changing experiences. Having now spent the vast majority of my life in the large evolving international metropolises that I found so beguiling in my childhood, the call of the stunningly beautiful, historic Italian cities is not only still there it is getting louder and more appealing as time goes by.
There might well be another chapter to this story.
