There were no lamps or furnishings, just boxes scattered around,
but I wanted to invite people in”.
Maria is a university professor and an art critic, a life filled
with creativity and beauty. “At that first dinner, hastily assembled
with a few things after the opening of an exhibition, it was like
telling the house: look, lots of things are missing, we have to do
something so everyone will feel at ease here”. It’s a worksite,
Maria’s house, a place where artists, critics friends, and strangers
meet. “Now and then I go hunting for a house to purchase, but as
soon as I begin, I regret it and get bored. In the end, I’m not so
interested in property per se, I am interested in feeling like a place
is mine, and I want everyone who comes in to feel at ease”.
People outside Naples think the city is inhabited by muddle-headed
mandolin players, pizza worshippers, mozzarella, and macaroni.
In contrast, Maria makes black rice and steamed vegetables for
lunch, which we eat on the small terrace in the sun. “I can’t imagine
a house here in Naples without an outdoor space; an extension
to allow views onto the theatre of the city. On a terrace, you lose
intimacy and you enter the scene – of a city that keeps moving,
valuing performance rather than privacy”. This city is a theatre,
a museum, a playing field, a place of perdition, a million different
things, inhabited by millions of gathered, concentrated lives, all on
stage, each in their own theatre. From up here, Maria observes the
city and smiles, like a postmodern olive tree knowing each of us
has roots that come to terms in our own unique way.
District: Chiaia
Maria a Napoli.
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