Sketches from Roma

“Traveling - it leaves you speechless then turns you into a storyteller.” Battuta

Professor Rodriguez did a very comprehensive job teaching our History of Architecture classes at Virginia Tech back in the day, but nothing compares to standing in front of or inside these architectural giants and studying by drawing. Here are some of the rough travel sketches, mostly exploring scale, form and massing, from our recent trip to Rome.

Our favorite view within the Piazza Del Popolo is of the (seamingly) twin churches Santa Maria di Montesano (left, 1662-75) and Santa Maria dei Miracoli (right, 1675-79) with the ancient Egyptian obelisk centered and Via del Corso starting between the churches.

Closer view of the Santa Maria di Montesano in the Piazza del Popolo; not shown is the Italian street performer next to me singing ‘Sweet Dreams’ by the Eurythmics.

There is a church every turn you make in Rome. San Giacomo in Augusta was next to our hotel and after walking past it for days, we finally peeked in…speechless. Decided to draw the floor plan to convey the mass, construction and robustness.

Interior of Santa Sabina on Aventine Hill, one of the seven hills of Rome. This sketch was rushed and does not come close to conveying the scale and reverence of this space. May need to sketch this one again.

This gives you an idea of scale of Santa Sabina, if the door was this big.

The Ponte dei Quattro Capi bridge is from 62 BC.

Historic architecture and fabric was the main focus, but finding Richard Meier’s modern Ara Pacis Museum was a highlight.

Aldo Rossi

One of the first architectural books Rush and I purchased as students was the epic “Aldo Rossi | Architecture 1981-1991” edited by Morris Adjmi. I remember pouring over Rossi’s pen and ink sketches, some washed with watercolor others with pencil or pastels, some very formal others with notes scribbled as if to remember a fleeting design thought. It was a view into his process - very personal, a signature, perhaps a piece of him. The sketches were often collages of floor plans, 3d perspectives and details; evidence of a master designer who understood how each influences and informs the other. His hard line drawings were arranged intuitively and his floor plans had such rigor - they looked simple and obvious. But designers know the path to simplicity is not simple.

As far as Rossi’s overarching architectural statement during this time period, I humbly yield to Morris Adjmi’s words from his opening essay “A New International Style.”

“The idea of a “new International Style” comes from a specific attitude about architectural design as well as from the changes that are reconstituting the world as a global village. It is an architecture that has regional and global components - one that is inseparably universal and inherently specific. Rather than approaching each project as an imposition of some ideal image or utopian solution, Aldo tries to understand the specifics of the site and the cultural spirit of the city and country. This is not to say that his work is without personal identity; rather, the projects share common themes and forms…He uses the city as his palette. Everything is a potential source: high and low, classical and vulgar. The poetry in Aldo’s work comes from his ability to carefully blend these artifacts and experiences into a coherent whole.”

And simply in Rossi’s own words:

“One cannot make architecture without studying the condition of the city.”

In the almost 28 years (is that even possible?) since first laying eyes on these words and images, the design teams I have been a part of endeavored to achieve small examples of this ‘blending’ described: honoring context, learning from history, deciphering the vernacular and creating a new iteration specific to the client, building, moment in time. The book is well-worn, coffee has been spilled on it, pages have been bookmarked, it crinkles when you turn certain pages, but it still remains a beacon of how we see design process and ultimately architecture.

Sketchbook 1.0

An architect's sketchbook is many things: a journal, a safe place to work through a design, a travel companion, basically an extension of our brain that we carry in our hand.  Above all else, it is a way for us to document our thoughts and mental images to a tangible reality.  The presence of technology in every nearly facet of our lives [computer renderings, BIM, emails instead of phone calls, even our grocery list is an app] makes it even more important for us to ground ourselves by putting pen to paper regularly.  Our sketchbooks aren't perfect - there are a lot of scribbles, notes, emerging and discarded design ideas, fingerprints, ink smudges - but perhaps that makes it better. There is a "realness" inside a sketchbook; an intimate look at process or a moment in time. 

This excerpt from the Sketchbook Curator Blog sums it up perfectly.  

"It’s often the physical act of drawing that artists get inspiration from. It’s the openness of a blank page that gives all the freedom for the artist to draw, paint, paste, and damage. It’s those papers bound together that gives perhaps the disconnected, random sketches a sequence, narrative, or an identity as a whole. Sketchbook, either as private or public entity, is a space of freedom and expression for any artist; it is their companion and reflection of their identity."

Stack of sketchbooks in the RDA studio

One of many layout sketches of competition boards circa 1993, Virginia Tech.

Travel Sketch, Savannah, GA 2008

Sketching the Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, SC was a reflective way to acknowledge the dark happenings of our city and pay respect.