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The Editorial: My Own Private Mississippi / Place
The two cities we work most heavily in, Milan and London, are both in the midst of being ripped up and partially rebuilt in wait of two massive events, the 2012 Olympics in London and Expo 2015 in Milan. The cities’ drastically different approaches to cleaning up for their guests are reflective of the larger cultures that surround them, as well as their respective visions of their role in the work: London fancies itself the cultured world city, while Milan sees itself as the world’s epicenter of design and fashion. But those imagined roles are both at risk, and while they spruce up their major squares, make token improvements to their infrastructures and add some very expensive new baubles their larger backdrops are being largely ignored.


Milan is unconventionally beautiful and holds tons of hidden gems, but is mostly dark, heavy and alienating brutalist architecture with a subpar transportation infrastructure. Outside Piazza Duomo, it is certainly a city that has a hard time impressing tourists. London, on the other hand, is modern, sparkling and gentrified (read: generic) in many of its more central districts, but is still mostly spaces of shabby, low-slung buildings studded every so often with hideous, dehumanizing estate blocks and slums. Beyond its world-class venues, cafes and green spaces, London mostly oscillates between generic and ghetto. Not surprising, then, that the UK boasts the lowest quality of life in western Europe, according to the Guardian.
So, while you won’t hear any complaints about the benefits the two major events will have on their cities (new tube lines! new green spaces!), we can’t help but think that Milan’s alienation and London’s shabbiness will be addressed in the least. In both cases, a real sense of place and community seems to be that which is missing in both cases. Brooklyn in New York ban be both uglier and shabbier than the worst of London and Milan, but goodness! What a sense of place! And, to be fair, there are certainly spaces with a real sense of place in both of our cities (Brera and the Navigli in Milan, and Portobello Road, Brixton, Broadway Market and many other isolated spaces in London), but they are rare bright spots in a a tapestry of raggedy fabric.

The balance, then, that must be struck to make any space both livable and satisfying is incredibly delicate. Just how to go about creating that sense of place begs a series of complex questions. Milan’s Zona Tortona, which hosts countless fashion shows and is ground zero for the world’s biggest annual design fair, is downright repellent during the 300+ days a year when there are no festivities going on. It plays host to the world’s premiere designers, brands and tastemakers, yet manages to be anonymous, ugly and might as well be a warehouse district in the Ukraine. Shouldn’t you feel like you’re somewhere when you’re in a space so ostensibly special?
It comes down to community and emotion. It is much, much more than being pretty. (Oxford Street is beautiful. We don’t want to be seen there.) Think about it next time you’re in a tawdry themed restaurant. Or when you feel really good in an objectively ugly place. Dive bars. The streets of Lisbon or Buenos Aires. Those all feel just about right. Space means nothing without a sense of place. And place is the sex. So, should’t the visionary developers amping up Milan and London look towards creating a real sense of space – parsing out that which is the essence of the city – instead of spending mountains of money on one-trick monuments?



2DM’s Lorenzo Nencioni, who knows “place” better than most, has taken photographs in lands as far off as Iceland and Japan. The photos in this article, from his new series My Own Private Mississippi showcase just how tangible a sense of place can be: in lieu of a vacation to the United States over the summer, Lorenzo stayed in Italy but went on a search for the feel of Mississippi in his home country. Besides a few pieces of the built environment (spot the tricolore!), these photos very well could have been taken in Dixie, a testament to his eye as well as to that place is much more than what a space seems on the surface.

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