La letteratura tedesca in Italia. Un'introduzione (1900–1920), by Anna Baldini, Daria Biagi, Stefania De Lucia, Irene Fantappiè, and Michele Sisto, Macerata, Quodlibet, 2018, 316 pp. €18.70 (paperback), ISBN 978-88-229-0169-9

Abstract

Sometimes, those visions reach deep into the past (p. 133), sometimes the centralised city and its concomitant imagery inform us about urban spaces (p. 134). The book's very title reminds us of the city's multivalence. Like hip-hop, Calvino's invisible cities are just thatinvisible. And it is this very invisibility that forces the reader (or listener) to rely on other sensesthus making urban history a multisensory experience (p. 149), or one centered in the mind (p. 161). Hip-hop music is also famously informal. Not surprisingly, Venice's spaces are decentralised. This is another way in which the city becomes a perfect hip-hop city. If Le Corbusier designed a programme for (as Psarra notes) 'one of the most sensitive contexts of our time' (p. 177), we need to wonder how one of the most formal architects of the twentieth century did this. Have we been going about studying Le Corbusier in the wrong way? His proposed (but unbuilt) hospital for Venice was designed to change over time. This meant that process rather than aesthetic formalism was paramount. As the author shows, the building also imitated, or was in dialogue with the city, with rooms and hallways mimicking calli and piazze. As we know, hip-hop is controlled by forces present within the culture in which it occurs and the same is true of Le Corbusier's hospital. Like a good album, the book is well designed and appealing. The cover is terrific and the pages are filled with compelling illustrationsmany in colourand many useful maps, charts, and plans by the author. After reading the book, the lasting questions are several. How might we practice architectural history differently? Are there new or different questions we should be asking? Could we, as historians, learn from Venice and be more cooperative and less competitive? Can we riff on other forms of history? Could we avoid formal determinants? Could the historian focus on process rather than authorship or individual buildings? Could the historian study change over time rather than original intent or appearance? Venice was renowned for its minority and immigrant communities. Because of that, we have to wonder if there are lessons in this for other cities. Similarly, Venice encourages writing the senses back into architectural history. The city can be smelly, loud, and tactile. Does architectural history in Venice allow us to explore other cities differently? The book shows us the value of doing diachronic history. We see how useful it is to learn about twentieth-century architecture along with Renaissance spaces. Similarly, we see the value in a truly multidisciplinary history in which Calvino and Le Corbusier are on equal footing. In all of this, we must wonder how history can be more creative and provocative. As Psarra shows, there is a lot we can learn from Venice.