E.42 (Rome)
CONTENTS:
(1) ESPOSIZIONE UNIVERSALE ROMA 1942
(2) ON THE GROUND IN E.42 TODAY
(3) A CALL FROM BEYOND?
(1) ESPOSIZIONE UNIVERSALE ROMA 1942
What if Mussolini threw a World's Fair and no one came?
1942 was Year XX of the Fascist Era and the Twentieth Anniversary of Mussolini's March on Rome.
There could be nothing less than a national spectacle to end all national spectacles in a mythic new quarter of the Imperial City.
The district was initially called the EUR (Esposizone Universale Roma), but then the more dashing appellation E.42 (Esposizione 1942) crept in— becoming an official designation too.
By the Spring of 1937, visionary plans were taking shape —but then reality intervened.
Italy was losing a disastrous World War. Resources were scarce. And every man laboring on these gleaming monuments was not in uniform, making a last-ditch stand in the Libyan desert, on the Russian steppes or increasingly close to home.
In early September 1942, the US Fifth Army landed on the coast south of Salerno (below Naples) and the British 1st Airborne Division went ashore at Taranto (near the instep of the Italian boot). By the end of September, the Allies were firmly entrenched in Naples and ready to head north —to Rome and beyond.
(2) ON THE GROUND IN E.42 TODAY
The Esposizione Universale never happened. But still, an astonishing amount was built and survives today— demonstrating the fatal hubris of the Mussolini regime but also their extraordinary talent for architectural messaging.
Today, eighty years later, arriving in the old E.42 is like landing in a utopian suburb on the dark side of the moon.
The architecture is relentlessly programmatic. But what...we wonder...is the program?
And the buildings— engendered for eternity in marble, granite and bronze— still exude a fleeting aura of cardboard and papier maché.
Like a Renaissance stage set or a mythic projection of an Ideal City —gone strangely moderne.
In good Italian style, there is all the muddle of work-in-progess but with no one actually on the job. Also a glut of parked cars that never seem to move, with few if any pedestrians on the street.
We feel ourselves wandering—hither and yon—through a a vast master plan abandoned on paper.
But the buildings actually exist (although many were completed, with a minimum of fanfare, after the collapse of the Mussolini regime).
Or maybe we are loitering behind the scenes, waiting for the show to begin—knowing full-well that it won't?
Whatever else, the EUR is a treasure-house of Italian modernist design, with moments of unarguable genius.
And— Italy being Italy —there is a seemingly endless supply of opulent materials and superb craftsmanship.
The great lake was the focal point of Mussolini's master plan, but its defining feature —a lofty arch measuring 200 meters (represented in the aspirational image at the top of this post) —was never realized.
Softened by time and greenery around the edges, Il Lago dell'EUR is now a beloved recreational spot.
The hilltop Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul (1939-55) dominates the scene, intended by the Duce as his own mausoleum. But history had other ideas.
Grand gestures go off the page in all directions.
Everything and nothing happens wherever we look.
(3) A CALL FROM BEYOND?
One morning in my local hardware store in Florence ...I took a number and got in line ...and as you see ...so, go figure?!
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Suspendisse varius enim in eros elementum tristique. Duis cursus, mi quis viverra ornare, eros dolor interdum nulla, ut commodo diam libero vitae erat. Aenean faucibus nibh et justo cursus id rutrum lorem imperdiet. Nunc ut sem vitae risus tristique posuere.