ROME:    

The first day of sketching, at Sant'Ivo alla Sapienza

Kelly and CFT being vicious (one of a series)

On top of the heart of Rome, the Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II

Billy and Foz having fun park-finding

What I saw from my bed almost every day of this trip

Dr. McGonagall I mean Higgins during a typical history class

Yours truly with the she-wolf

Billy and Justin enjoying the Forum from the Capitoline Museum

Parco della Musica

On Bernini's staircase at the Vatican Museum (Corin looks excited!)

Emily and Campo de' Fiori from our studio window

Relaxing at the Olympic swimming complex

Senatus PoplusQue Romanus

Kelly can't believe she's walking up the Spanish Steps

The Lateran Library

The Boss, Sweaty Steve, and Marisa at the MACRO museum

Lisa asking if we can rent a boat in Villa Borghese

Reeking havoc on a 4 person bike

MAXXI

AS Roma soccer game

Steve was extra excited

Sketching at Trajan's Market

The Museum of the Roman Civilization

The struggle of Sweaty Steve for the final project

Cervantamama in Rome's most underrated park, Villa Ada

I took many pictures over the course of the semester.  Unlike most people, I try not to take pictures without anyone in them.  My reasoning is this: you can take as many pictures of St. Peter's as you want, but it will never change.  I understand that there are different lighting situations and things like that, but disregarding the artistic beauty of the picture, I find pictures without people in them very boring.  If you have to take a picture of every building you go in, you're missing something.  Because it's not about the buildings, it's about the experience.  The buildings people photograph will always be there.  The people themselves won't.  So this is what I documented.  Our time in Rome.  We were only 20 and 21 and in Rome once in our lives.

Requiem for a Dream

We were treated to a concert at Parco della Musica last night.  It was Mozart's Requiem in D Minor.  The night was one of the best I've had here.  To go to a concert at Renzo Piano's masterpiece of an auditorium was unreal.  But as I sat listening to the smooth and harmonious sound of the violins and cellos I could only think that this requiem was for my time here in Rome.  A requiem for a dream.  I have less than a week left here.  It's a fact that has excited and depressed me.  And as the choir burst in melodious discord, I couldn't help but think of it.  Of the little time I have left.  The things I'll do when I get home.  Leaving.  Seeing everyone.  The gigantic change that awaits me.  How much I'll miss this all.

I looked up what the word "requiem" means.  It refers to a "Requiem Mass" or a Mass for the dead, celebrated for the repose of a deceased soul.  I decided that it's fitting to call the Requiem one for my experience.  I think back to all of my memories here and I can't believe I did and saw so much.  I wondered earlier in the semester about my decision to come here.  I was searching for the reason.  Looking back, I can't believe I ever doubted myself.  I couldn't determine the reason because it isn't just one reason.  It's a million reasons.  It's the fact that I can see the Tiber from my apartment window.  It's catching a glimpse of the domes from Villa Borghese.  It's eating the best ice cream in the world.  It's people watching on Via del Corso.  It's walking to the Basilica of Saint Paul.  It's looking at Saint Peter's every day on the way to studio.  It's feeling the feeling of kinship that only Romans have.  It's sitting in a seat on the main floor looking at an undulating wooden ceiling listening to beautiful music.

The dream is over.  Time to wake up.  

"I have loved, because the Lord will hear the voice of my prayer.
Because he hath inclined his ear unto me: and in my days I will call upon him.
The sorrows of death have encompassed me: and the perils of hell have found me. I met with trouble and sorrow:
and I called upon the name of the Lord. O Lord, deliver my soul."


Psalm 115: 1-4

There's something that's come up that I'd like to address.  Reading this blog, you could notice an apparent lack of content that has anything to do with architecture.  You might wonder what I've been doing writing about things like my feelings and my religion.  I'll tell you.  At first, it was because I didn't really know what else to write.  I was told I had to blog, to document my experience here, so I did.  I didn't plan for it to come out the way it did, at least at first.  And when you notice that these posts don't have anything to do with architecture, I'll tell you to take a closer look.  If there's one thing I've learned in school and especially here, it's that architecture is everything.  Meaning, it has a hand in every aspect of life.  From the time the cavemen marked a piece of ground with significance by lighting a fire, architecture has been an integral part of humanity.  Architecture is derived directly from society and its needs, fears, hopes, and dreams.  I've been struggling with my faith here in Rome.  This struggle affects my designs.  Maybe not directly, but surely indirectly.  If something in my life isn't going right, that emotion seeps into what I do in studio.  Maybe I need to come to terms with God to move on with my architectural career.  All of this factors back into architecture.  I document my experiences as I experience them.  So if I feel homesick or frustrated I will try to document it accordingly.  I think this way is the most relevant form of documenting architecture that exists.  Rome is not a vacation.  It is a learning experience.  

I'm not trying to ignore or mock the grading requirements set down for this blog.  I realize that according to my definition, this blog could have anything on it and still be about architecture.  I don't believe that I have posted "just anything."  I'm merely stating my opinion.  But I suppose no one will believe that.         

"And now, Lord, what do I wait for?  My hope is in thee."

Psalm 39: 7

NAPLES:

The Spanish quarter

Aboard the funicular in Capri

Capri

CASTELLAMMARE:

Corin under the oculus of a dome in Stabia

The peak of Vesuvius

Emily on the roof of the hotel in Castellammare

Southern Italy (Sweaty Steve style) - words that come to mind: beautiful, hot, sunny, blue, nice, peaceful, gorgeous, breezy, bright, happy, carefree...

As you can see, I couldn't have enjoyed the trip south more.  It stood out among the three as the trip where I actually observed a real sense of fun and even "giddiness."  It is this feeling- the morale- that was missing partially or all together in the last two trips.  I could tell when we all arrived in Naples that this trip was going to be different.  The first indicator was the most obvious: the weather.  It was completely beautiful weather every day of the trip.  And this is where the trip south differs the most from the others.  Everyone is happier when it is nice out.  Even if it's dark and raining at the most famous building in the world, you're still not going to have as good of an experience as you would if it were warm and sunny.  And Southern Italy was both.  Naples felt like Florida (aka heaven on earth).  Once we got down to Capri and Castellammare, the weather was so nice that no one could feel even the most remote negative feeling.  It was one of the best experiences of my life.

Why?  Well, because of a lot things.  Too many things to write down here.  But I can give you some examples.  The first day in Naples we had a sketching assignment where we had to observe and document street sections in the Spanish quarter and the Naples Gallery.  Not only was this assignment fun to do, it was enlightening.  I forget to look up sometimes in dense cities.  Really paying attention to what's happening with facades and conversation between buildings makes a large difference.  It was interesting to study the difference between the exterior, small-scale street and the interior, large-scale one.  The second day we went to one of the most amazing houses I have ever seen.  Perched on a cliff on the island of Capri, Curzio Malaparte's house sits.  Before arriving, I had heard about the house and its panoramic views.  To be honest, I never really thought much about it.  I certainly wasn't expecting anything phenomenal.  Casa Malaparte is the sort of "poster" for Southern Italy and the Rome program.  I didn't think it was going to be that great.  But when I walked down the steps and through the front gate I was immediately entranced.  The house is just existing, at peace with the world, amongst heavenly landscape.  It is part of this landscape.  All around it the sea extended - one big horizon line with the most beautiful blue.  The place has a magical aura.  Three hours sketching there went by in what seemed like an instant.  And, for the first time on this trip, I seemed to reach a point where I was at peace with it.  Meaning, I was just sketching.  I was just putting lines down in my sketchbook and loving it.  And it came out great (maybe the best composition I have ever sketched).  Looking back, it may very well have been one of the happiest times in my life.  Just me, my friends, and the wide open sea.  The next day, we all went to Pompeii (which was also phenomenal) and afterwards, had the afternoon to do what we wanted.  I chose to climb Vesuvius with a few other people.  We had to take a bus to a point about 1000 meters up the side of it and then walk the rest of the way.  As the bus ascended, we were met with great views at every break in the trees.  But the walk up was the best.  Standing at the mouth of the crater, looking out over everything - the slightly smoking crater, the trees, the rock, the city, the people, the sea, the sky, the sun...  I felt that feeling that you only feel when you're truly happy.  I can't put it into words.  The islands in the distance looked like they were clouds because the sun was shining so brightly, the light overtook the horizon line.  The quiet was so peaceful that I could feel the distance between myself and the foot of the volcano.  I wrote my initials on a wooden sign and walked back down.

Coming back to Rome, I could only wish that I had a few more days in the wonderland that was Southern Italy.  The semester is almost over now and everyone feels it.  But it's not over yet.      

BERLIN:

The AEG Turbine Factory by Peter Behrens (it was a dream of mine to see this monster) 

A street performer at Kunsthaus Tacheles

Picturesque Wannsee lake

I went to Berlin this past weekend.  I had some expectations about the city, but all of them were shattered.  Berlin is one of the strangest cities I have ever seen.  It is eccentric.  And this eccentricity seems to be what makes it thrive.  People love being weird there.  Riding the U-Bahn and the S-Bahn (the most confusing but utterly best public transportation system in the world), I got to see some of the weirdest people.  For example, I saw one guy who was wearing a trench coat made entirely of denim pockets sewn together.  Another man had a pink mohawk and a pierced cheek.  Berlin seems to me like a city that is trying to move on from the past (the Berlin Wall, Hitler, etc.).  It has a feeling of youth and life that just can't be ignored.  There were so many young people out and about everywhere that I had to feel this energy.  Architecturally, this feeling comes through.  There were not many old buildings because of the bombings during World War II.  With so much newer construction, the city had a feel that I had never experienced before.  There were modern additions resting on top of or inside historic buildings.  There were gigantic glass complexes.  There were abstract public art exhibitions on the boulevards.  Berlin wants to be big.  Each wide avenue said so.  Spaces like Potzdamer Platz said so.  Berlin is a city that is living in the 21st century.

One of my favorite public spaces was the Sony Center at Potzdamer Platz.  It has a giant gallery surrounded by commercial space - offices, ground floor restaurants, and a movie theater.  The office space cantilevers boldly the entrances and giant steel trusses fly over the mass of the buildings.  Everyone who goes in that space has to look up at the system of sun shades enclosing the gallery.  The closest thing I could compare it to would be Milan's gallery.  I took it was a sort of modernized form of this.  Just down the street was another great public space.  Just south of Renzo Piano's Kollhoff Tower, there is a park.  This park is really just a manmade hill set at about a 30 degree slope.  But it is a great green space because it acts like a giant public bench in that people stop and rest there.  Nothing was more enjoyable then to lay down in some sweet-smelling grass after walking the city all day.  Another highlight of the trip was stumbling upon some of the coolest art exhibits I have ever seen.  I was fortunate enough to see Kunsthaus Tacheles, a World War II-damaged warehouse in the Mitte district.  Going in, I entered a different world.  The walls were covered in graffiti, some years old.  I walked up many flights of stairs, stopping at each floor to view works of collage, metal, and paint.  It was one of the coolest/strangest experiences of my life.

Ultimately, Berlin was a great experience that me see that even after a city is wiped out, it can back and become one of the most lively places on earth.