a-ban-don

The human being has the ability of design, love, care about something and then just forget, move on, abandon. Since the earliest times nomadic tribes used soils and lands and after a few years leaved them looking for somewhere else to call “home”; with the coming of the industrial society and the resulting consumerism the concept of never being fully devoted to something as grown bigger: “care” is not a duty anymore, we do not need to spend time fixing things, we throw them away, abounding them. The process of negligence does not spare anything that encounters on its passage, leaving behind small objects in the same way as buildings. A building though is not just an “object” (in contraposition of the “subject”); in an architecture lies the identity of a society, the changes of cultural time and style are reflected on the facades, the frame of a city depends from the accurate disposition of these inhabited masses. A building is home, nest, makes us feel safe and protected; to fully understand its status, a construction has to be looked at from both points of view, the external one (as an element in the urban skyline) and a more specific and internal one (the meaning that space has, its destination and use).

 The ambivalence of meanings of a structure does not fade with the disuse of the latter, as an “object in space” a building always has to be looked at with the same respectful understanding. Places collect memories within their walls and once not taken care of they become “scars” in the landscape. Abandoned can be considered an ancient roman ruin in Rome in the same way as an industrial revolution’s architectural skeleton in London; “abounded” means never being completed in some cases but can applied to structures that have being overused. Nowadays society prefers to knock down rather than reuse, and abounded is frequently linked with the concept of temporary even though most of the times, due to bureaucracy and lacking of plans to repurpose the area, what is meant to be provisional becomes permanent; as semi-permanent structures, abounded buildings get inhabited by new faunas and the one that maybe once back in time were shining surfaces become maps on which the passage of time can be tracked. When walking in the long corridors of that once was a hospital you will feel the discomfort of the pain in the same way as when entering in an old prison’s tiny cells the sensation of stillness of time to which the convicts were forced.

A room is like a sponge, somehow: it blends with the living subjects and transform with them; once what was alive is gone the empty space maintains a certain identity, suggested by the life that used to inhabit it. Such “sponges” are difficult to find in a Country like Australia, a new born from a historical and economical point of view, internationally speaking; being “discovered” in the 17^th Century its present architecture does not have many historical examples: the term “abandon” assume a connotation that is purely related to the present; “ruins” in a city such as Melbourne are mostly mementos of the 80’s or so, skyscrapers do not really blend nicely with dusty facades. To properly understand an abandoned structure we necessarily have to investigate its past use and when it has been designed, why, who was the architect, how many times there has been renewal works within is walls and so on. Frequently such information are not easy to find and very likely the council does not want to be bothered answering questions related to the matter. 

Abandoned places are very likely to be kept just the way they are, the position they hold in the urban panorama is very much like something that should not be there but it is, annoying people who have to take care of the issue of their presence. The simple act of entering in a building becomes nearly impossible when coming to this structures: considered dangerous and tumbledown they are usually locked and those who try to sneak inside can be fined or arrested as the act is considered as a violation, so it is illegal. Remains the fact that the allure of such places is striking; the atmosphere is that of a place that got stuck in time, the stillness and the idea that where now there is only silence and dust once was people and dynamicity is surprisingly disorientating. By visiting places that no longer have a use we get to have a hint of what life was like back in time; I suppose they can be considered “time machines” in a way, proper real life revivals of the past, concrete-made memories that proudly stand out the regular city grid making us remember where do we come from, in a frenetic and ever-changing world such as the one we are living now.

 Strolling in the straight and neat streets of Melbourne, a new born city in a new bornCountry, is easy to spot those “time machines”: the ever-changing texture of a modern city can not rely on crumbling structure and the consumerist society applies its severe laws to everything, buildings included; a new building brings prestige and money to the neighbourhood, its glass facade will make it look more polished and the inhabitants will probably feel safer. Future is built over the past, but is that always the right thing to do? Will not that dusty facade bring back memories from a time that was and can not be again? Its loss will not take away a good deal of both tactile and visual grain from the spotless and sleek continuum of cold glass brought by the new constructions? The richest a society is the more is not happy and satisfy with what has, the more wants to show off its power and status and to do that it focuses on the visual impact: the old has to go, replaced by the new; very few buildings are saved being “listed” and some of them can be crossed out from the list just with some more paperwork. Useless to say that around the act of pursuing a sort of “architectural nirvana” rotates a great deal of money and moneymost of the times lead to shady businesses. 

The Italian architect and professor at the University of Venezia, Pier Luigi Cervellati is one of the major exponents of the “urban requalification plan”: the main concept of the whole plan is to preserve structures repurposing them to new uses; in such way an  abandoned building ‘s structure is maintained and adapted to the new destination. History and future, past and present come together in a building that benefits from the charm of old times and the technologic improvements of the present. If cared and respected again every structure can rise from the time’s ashes and live a new life; there should be no place for terms such as “abounded” in the architecture’s vocabulary and, in my personal opinion, our Century’s aim should be to retain and improve rather than to tear down and rebuild; this concept, if applied to most existing structures, can save natural resources and improve the quality of our cities. The choice on how to consider an empty and doddering building when we look at one is all ours.