Soon after viewing for third or fourth time “12 Angry Men”, I understood that John Ford had reason. It was not any more than to see to travel Henry Fonda to understand what was the cinema. I withdrew my Innisfree from myself, of which I am not even native. Now, based and humble connoisseur of that one that surrounds me, I prepare to share it.
The object of study does not change, is always this terrible amalgam of cultures, colors and pavements that it sees like little by little, and without hurry none, the time, which everything it changes, hovers on yes. It is kept as Pinito of the Gold in a dangerous line between the captivation and the filthiness. The calm attitude of his neighbors before the condition of what in his moment was the richest city in miles, does that this one supports his intact essence, I me like to imagine these streets in Germany or Austria. With a cartel of “Don´t sit down, newly painted”. This city, which brings together the major concentrations of sacred art for square meter of Europa with the most profane pleasures and carnal habidos and for credit, has been left to conquer for whom it was showing a minimal interest for her; they understood very much before that the rest, that those that kings were saying to themselves, were not coming to them if not to empty his granaries and to satisfy his cravings. This place, this parish, only wanted to receive a sample of fondness, though it was coming accompanied from conquest and change of flag. This small gray spot in the map triangulado, saw to die to the State. And one does not see her worried. It is clear that the unvariant is it, is all the same where we are, because it does not change, we change the place from which we get accommodated to admire it; to analyze it is a tedious not suitable at all labor for the spring evenings.
The first step to understand the city I gave it from the great scale; the board of drawing and the plane they cleared the first impressions, helped me to include an enormous territory ado help that a water botellín. The public transport dies on the verge of this small comanche territory. It classifies in big zones; it plays to the families, every social class, in his quartiere; it looks like a slow, calm city. That is ruled according to a few main lines that arrange what happens around it. The crossing of these routes defines the frame in which, little by little and of coherent form, the inhabitants in healthy consensus with the architects of the zone, they will occupy with his housings. It is so transparent, that enclosed we can see part of his past. If we perfect the sight, we can recognize even the brand of the Empire, the form of eagle in the distribution of income to the wall, the brand of the senate in every bastion. What to say of the crossing cardo and decumano, sounds obscenely for obviously. All the strata are recognized by facility, the neighborhoods are identified easily, it exalts the feeling of belonging to these. Even some bold one, it might admit the evolution of the growth and the zones of expansion. We might manage to plan an urban development plan. That porn sounds it of planning a plan.
Returning to our optics, which gets up to 1.83 and suffers from migraine when it blows of the south wind, the city changes. The incident of the Sun becomes asphyxiating in the big avenues, is much more agreeable to walk along the narrow streets of the ancient city. The big quartieres of tidy perimeters and noble fronts who appear haughty to the eyes of the tourist, think troquelados mercilessly for narrow and involved vicolì that they remember the insecurity of long ago. Not so much that of Coppola and his wooers with hat guarding positions of fruit, if not that of Lampedusa, and it decided to infect the city of mousetraps. Seeing the city with the tired feet and with be for the asphyxiating sirocco, we can plan a totally different plane. I listened to Juan Creus to speak how there was cartografiado a trip in car, since the distances were slow, the events were happening of almost violent form. It looked like to me an attractive experience. A plane that pliega on yes same again and again, that looks for the natural slope towards which to go with the minimal effort. Neither in this plane, nor my cousin the onlooker would question why the port is where it is, very in spite of the walkers. It would be a luck of traces without legend. A precise, very big drawing and with smell a stigghiola. And a sambuca. It represents the city that was done to yes same depending on his contingencies. The one that did not suffer the anorexia of the 20th century, which continues celebrating the birth of a new life in the neighborhood with a celestial pompom. The one that concentrates the whole tension of a front in the door. The baroque, of which it grows in the edges, like the mildew. This city only is valuable to blow of slipper, for many tool that we incorporate into the study distantly, we will not be able to catch her. It seems that always there hovers over my speech the heavy shade of the time, of the calmness. I find it fundamental not alone when we practise the architecture; reading, cinema, kitchen. They are necessary a few natural times that we must respect and enjoy; to try to accelerate the alone process will reduce the quality of the product to obtaining. And in the cities it happens equally, there are places that were done hurriedly, and they are suffered.
We cannot try to eliminate any of the facets when we want to play to the urbanism. It can turn out to be tedious or weary, but the two are necessary. We cannot denaturalize the plane, start the human factor as if nothing and to try to have cities. Not. Like that, alone we will generate beehives, more or less tidy stores. Let’s alternate both distances, both intensities. New places will appear without wanting it; with luck, it is possible that our Nazca´s lines show. Or simply us demos counts of that all these alleys that make way for themselves to butts and of so random aspect, change his form to the compass of the need, which is since the majority of the phenomena arise. That sublies a sometimes invaluable structure but that is ruled to the most valuable tool of the urbanism, the common sense. We will be conscious of the lost opportunities of the city, and of the tremendously well taken advantage of disasters. We will discover the city that wanted and could, and it stopped wanting. The matrioska who hides a city inside other one in infinite progression. The one that between the chaos and it disturbs of a car worthy fleet of an Asian megalópolis, is capable of enjoying the incomplete works of last centuries, and has the sufficient patience to allow that the trees should grow. A city of intangibles.
Jorge Rodríguez Seoane
Palermo. April 2013
Arquitecto y socio fundador y gerente de Seoane Arquitectura.
Experiencia activa en evaluación de riesgos y plan de negocio, gestión de personal y dirección de proyectos de ejecución.
Gestión de carteras de inversión inmobiliaria, búsqueda de activos singulares y representación de intereses.