THE HOUSE OF ACANTHUS
EXIGUA PARS EST VITAE QUAM NOS VIVIMUS
"A SMALL PART OF THE LIFE IS THAT WE LIVE"
THE AFTERMATH
I woke up in the study of Ottavio, stuck in the couch, were the ten o'clock in the morning, fierce headaches, sadness and depression, I still had the key in my left hand! What was I doing with that small key if I didn't know what it might open? That home had dozens of cabinets, closets, attics, cellars doors! No, it was impossible, "perhaps I shall return it to Chiara!" I thought, and I put it in the pocket.
In the large villa of the Costaguta the two maids and Luigi, the gardener, were taking care of the House, I went out with pleasure from the Tower, when I came downstairs, my appearance wasn't supposed to be the best, in fact the old maid, kindly offered me a cup of coffee! I was resuming contact with the world, when I remembered that on the Morrow, would arrive the two recent graduates to continue their work, but I didn't feel able to tackle the job! I decided to suspend the work for two weeks, at the end it was almost August! I called them, to warn them of change of program.
After a shower and a second coffee, the day seemed better than how it was begun, I went out into the Garden: Scent of the sea, led by thermal breezes of the morning, scent of fig trees and freshly cut grass, the usual fine golden light, and the distant noise of the old Luigi that probably was working, down in terraces overlooking the sea; almost unwittingly I followed the noise and I reached the gardener in a stone split terrace, halfway down the Hill, the Acanthus was everywhere under the olive trees;
The terrace was large no more than 2 meters, small stone stairs, less than half a meter wide, connecting the terraces with one another, in Liguria there are only mountains, you could not cultivate anything without building the terraces.
Luigi was freeing from Acanthus, which had infiltrated between the stones, the wall upstream, I sat a little distant, on a step, and unwittingly I started to observe his work, watching someone else while he is working is always very relaxing, you get lost in their gestures, and slowly the mind relaxes. I Lit a cigarette, and I stayed there, the images of Chiara did not want to leave my mind, and then in addition to that, there was the mystery of the House and of the Professor. Luigi stopped, looked at me, and then we exchanged a greeting, then he resumed his work, and I stayed there, with the gaze lost in his gestures and my thoughts returned to the previous evening.
And then there was the work, it had to be finished in any way but I also was trying to sabotage it, it was a true labyrinth, where every decision depended on the previous one. I realized at that moment that Luigi was gazing at me, it is not the ideal condition, working while someone is watching us! He remained silent a little and then he asked me: "Architect, do you want to help me with the Acanthus, do you know, I'm old and these damn plants are becoming stronger than me!"
I was extremely happy for his request, and in retrospect, I am still thankful to him! Manual work is a wonderful remedy in such circumstances. I pruned Acanthus and olive trees, I helped him to repair the stones of dry walls, a real fun!
When we made a break, sitting in the shade of an ancient cistern, I asked him: "Sorry Luigi, I know well, that you were very fond of him, but I don't get it, had Ottavio always been so weird?"
He remained somewhat quiet, almost to evoke memories to mind, then he said: "No, he changed during the war! He was ten years older than me, but I remember when I was a kid Mr. Ottavio was a kind and friendly person, then the war, he had made the Naval Academy, had quarreled with his father because his father did not want him to go to war; you know, Ottavio was his only son, he was supposed to lead the family business, but there had been nothing to do.
Then, in the winter of 1940, a telegram arrived: Ottavio and his comrades, missing in action near Malta!
It was a real tragedy: his mother looked like crazy, and his father never recovered, he blamed himself, probably he thought he could had saved Ottavio, he could keep him out of that tragedy, and he had not been able to do nothing for Ottavio! He died a year later, poor man! Shortly before the news arrived that Ottavio was still alive.
We saw Ottavio here, only in ' 45, after the war, but when he returned, you hardly recognize him! Ottavio had changed, the kind and lively boy was gone, and in his place now, there was a man, always polite, of course, but it was as if a part of him was always elsewhere, far away;
He had became more closed and cold, no one was ever able to find out what had happened in Africa!"
I realized that Luigi would have said nothing else, however now, it was not very important: I'd never really understood that House, the man who lived there and his daughter, too complex and mysterious were their constraints.
Anyway at the end of the day I was very tired but I knew what to do!
THE LANGOBARD
Now, I had to do what I could, to finish the job; saving the 'House', I saved a chance to Chiara, to understand and find her father one day.
To save the 'House of Acanthus' from its transformation into a plastic building, for tourists, I had to save its internal structures, that is, saving the roof and then the floors!
If I could to prevent the destruction of the Interior of the House, probably the owners, in front of the necessity of a real and very expensive, architectural restoration, would have given up, or at least this was my hope!
For the roof I had found the solution, I called Bernardo Castello, to make an expert's report, he was the best expert of ancient structures in wood of the whole North Italy; Bernardo was a technician, better than all the historians, architects, archaeologists, engineers who I had known, because he just knew everything about the ancient wooden structures! He collaborated on all major architectural restorations of the last twenty years! Bernardo had collaborated with 'The Opificio delle Pietre Dure' in Florence and with the 'Istituto Centrale del Restauro' in Rome, as saying the two best restoration institutions of the country. He was a good friend of mine, he was from Bergamo, but he owned a house near Bordighera, at Albenga, where he produced a fantastic oil, we met virtually all summers, he was an extraordinary person, his expertise was simply undeniable!
I remember when I met him for the first time: I had just graduated, and I was working recently with Sergio, we were restoring an ancient Church in the old town of Genoa. It was a XVI century Church. Under the church, there was another Church of the 11th century, under which, rotated 180 degrees, there was another Church of the 9th century, probably Byzantine; on the roof of the Church had been built a five-storey house in the 17th century; behind the Church, there was a small square, under the square there was a Templar Cemetery, under the Templar Cemetery there was a burial area of the IX century; next to the church there was a courtyard, inside the walls of which, hid a cloister of the XV century. In front of the Church had been built a bad House in ' 900! A real 'palimpsest'! Those Roman scrolls on which were written innumerable layers of text, each one written after had covered the previous with white lead!
It was a very interesting experience, in those days we had to disassemble an arch of the Church, and reassemble it, replacing some damaged stone ashlars; I was designing the Interior, when Sergio tells me: "Come on I'll show you a fantastic thing", I followed him, we climbed on scaffolding to reach the vaults of the Church, there, I saw for the first time Bernardo!
He had built a beautiful wooden Curtain Sider supporting the arch! The Curtain Siders are the structures that were used since Roman times to build arches and vaults. On them you put the stone ashlars of the arch, until you reach the center, here you put the Keystone, and then after doing debt spells, you remove the frame of the Curtain Sider, and if the arch is well built, it will remain standing, loading its own weight, now prepared to carry out its support function. Today nobody uses more the Wooden Curtain Siders to build arches and vaults, and seeing one of them is a very rare and extremely interesting experience!
Bernardo was a big man and tall like me, but twice as wide, he wore a carpenter leather coat with pockets filled with tools, his beard was grey, bushy and long, his eyes were wolf eyes, Bernardo looked straight out of a Renaissance painting or he could seem a big Langobard Warrior!
He was proud of his beautiful creation, a massive wooden semicircular structure, with bracing and reinforcements, he had built the structure himself in less than a week, instantly I knew that, for me, that man was an artist and a ancient master! From that day we became friends, and we are still today!
On Wednesday of the same week it was a grey day and rather depressing, and a stifling heat made it difficult to breathe, everything could be read clearly like a bad omen! Bernardo arrived at about half past nine in the morning, shaking hands with multiple fracture for me, greetings to the sixteen-year-old son who already was helping him, jokes and various amenities, so we entered the House, here I conducted him to explore the wooden structures of floors and ceilings at the various floors;
He took some measures in accordance with the plans that I had given him, sometimes passed his hands on beams and ceiling structures, it seemed it was a way to understand their true nature, he made no comments until we arrived at staircase leading to the roof; at that point I was eager to have an opinion by him, so I told him that in my opinion the wooden structures looked pretty good and all things considered, in good conditions.
He replied, "Are you kidding me? I rarely saw in a private house, woods of such a high quality and in so good condition! And you obviously are here to demolish all, true? Damn architects!"
I replied: "No Bernardo, as I explained you on the phone, I would like to save all, or at least something! ", He said smiling: "I do know it well, and you are doing the right thing! It would be a true idiocy to destroy all! An idiocy and a shame!"
We climbed the ladder up to the attic, I opened a garret, then we began to explore the strange space: Everywhere old furniture, trunks, suitcases, games, newspapers, books, everything what you can expect to find in an ancient residence, inhabited continuously for more than four centuries; The old attics, are magical places, are like beaches after a shipwreck, on which aground the wrecks of time.
I was thinking about these things and I was looking at a collection of magazines, incredibly prestigious: it was the artistic avant-garde French magazine of 1930s, ' Minotaure', the complete collection of the most beautiful art magazine of all time founded by André Breton, abandoned in an attic! I looked through the covers of Minotaure, hypnotized by the works of Picasso, Duchamp, Magritte, Max Ernst,
... .. .when I heard the voice of Bernardo booming from the middle of that strange and dark space: "Architect, if I may steal a minute to your high readings, can I ask you to meet me here sir, now!" The tone was ironic, I went right away, and when I arrived I saw nothing special, so I looked blankly.
"Don't you notice anything special, a part from a valuable and well preserved 17th century wooden structure?"
I looked better, and I began to understand, it was hard to notice it right away, because the structure was in twilight and much thinner than the other solid wooden structures of the roof, but there were no doubts, it was a steel truss and timber: Polonceau!
At first sight, one of the first exemplars produced, cast iron and wood, fantastic! In its time it was supposed to be cost a fortune, at the time, a leading choice! Bernardo kneeling, was removing dust from the chain joint, on which was engraved the name of the company and the year of manufacture: 1862!!!!
"It is one of the first produced Polonceau! Here we are close to France! Do you know how many there are in this roof? Three!!! At intervals between the wooden beams of the XVII century!!!" He told me with a booming voice and the look of a triumphant Langobard Warrior, sighting a cluster of Byzantine soldiers clearly outnumbered carrying a cargo of gold!
I had won! Three Polonceau trusses are absolutely untouchable, they are worth more than an entire wooden ceiling from the 17th century! Three Polonceau Trusses of 1862 are Industrial Archaeology, they are of great value, protected throughout Italy and Europe! No Superintendence would have granted permission to demolish or just touching the roof, the House of Acanthus, now, was safe!
I found it hard to believe, yet still the marking on the chain was clear, those were among the first structures of that kind in Italy, there was material for a publication!
Bernardo was saying: ". .. Also this roof is like solid rock, with three Polonceau it is perhaps, the most stable part of the Villa!"..........I was listening partly, I was too happy and proud of myself!
".... I would like to see the Tower, it might be dangerous to the integrity of the roof, to check that the structures of the woods are good, unfortunately usually.....but are you listening?", I replied that, Yes, I was listening, but I was very happy with his discovery! and not! I wouldn't have accompanied him in the Tower, I explained him the way and I said that I would stay there, in the attic to make some pictures of the Polonceau.
I was photographing the last amazing truss of cast iron, when Bernardo's son came and told me that his father had found something he wanted to show me in the tower.
I went up the stairs, with my heart in my throat, an incredible hope was rekindled in my mind, but I didn't want to believe it,....but when did they end up those damn stairs? Finally I arrived at the studio of Ottavio, upstairs, I found Bernardo on his knees, in front of the professor's desk, just at the point where, according to Chiara, he was found dead.
I couldn't believe it! The labyrinth had opened up in front of my eyes its gates, almost by magic! Thanks to that big Langobard, now, I knew what the key opened, that key I would crunch in the Pocket, now I tightened so much the key, to hack the Palm of my hand, the mystery of Ottavio was in my hands and his House was practically save!
"No! I have no key! they did not give me anything, I've got nothing to open! "
Maybe I was a little hasty, because Bernardo was looking at me, a little puzzled, and said: "If you want, I could force the door without damaging it, it shouldn't be very hard, I don't think it's a safe, it should be an inspection hatch,.... watch that refinement of the lock! It is covered by a circular piece of wood, that is triggered if you exerts a light pressure with the finger!" He did what he had said, and the wooden door had exactly one lock suitable for the cylindrical key that I was holding in my pocket!
I tried to seem calm and not very interested when I answered: "No Bernardo, I don't have any key and I wouldn't want to be accused of having made some damage here, especially now, that this House, probably, will remain as it is! Maybe, when I talk with the owners, I'll ask them some informations, however, it seems to me that for today we can be more than satisfied, now, nobody can demolish this House, thanks to the legendary Bernardo!", pat on the back, I helped him to get up, and we went back down, the day had been very profitable.
Outside, now the sky was clear, had raised a breeze from the North East, and I felt like Napoleon contemplating the Sun of Austerlitz!
We said goodbye after a sumptuous dinner of wild boar and abundantly watered of Rossese, at Apricale, a delightful village beyond Dolceacqua, perhaps the only place in Italy where you can see simultaneously, facing left, the Alpi Marittime, with the snow-capped peaks, underneath, the Piedmont plain, and the Apennines in the eastern slope, to the right.
We agree that Bernardo would have sent to my computer the preparatory report and, when we picked up the roof measurements, he would return, to a more detailed examination.
Left alone in Bordighera, I did the last preparations for the next day, when I would open the door in the floor of the Studio, including a visit to an old bottling plant, known only to insiders and some old anarchists of the place, where I bought the best bottle of Porto that you could find for hundreds of miles between Italy and France.
I had finally found the thread of Ariadne to solve the riddle of the labyrinth of emotions, memories, emotional relationships, and meanings that Ottavio had tirelessly built throughout his life.
THE RITUAL
Machiavelli tells us that when he was exiled from Florence, in Garfagnana, in the evening, to read Tacitus and Seneca, he wore the toga, placed the book on a high stand, and being deferential, he began reading them, it was like some kind of ritual, that, according to him, was necessary to approach to classical texts.
So, the next day, my ritual began at seven in the morning; after an hour I was ready, I was finishing the knot to the dark blue tie of the Yacht Club of Genova, with its tiny flag with the cross of St. George, I worn a light blue shirt with my digits, I put on my best summer dress complete, it was handmade cotton and linen blend color khaki , I prepared my architect bag, properly aged, put in the breast pocket of the jacket, the bag of my favorite mixture of tobacco along with the pipe and my small reading glasses, the photocamera, in the outer pocket, I put the pens and pencils that I thought needed, I gave myself a last look in the mirror, and I went out: The Ritual had begun.
When I came in the Centre of Bordighera, I sat down at the old bar that served the best coffee in town, and began reading the newspaper, the times were calculated in order to arrive in the Tower at right time in the morning, I wanted that even the light was perfect!
"Dear colleague, how do you do?", was the voice of the Architect Bassano, the curator of the Anglican Church of Bordighera! Damn it! He was ruining my plans!
"Very well thank you and you? But please, sit down! Can I offer you a coffee? "
Unfortunately he didn't refuse! We started talking about the more and the less, at one point, he told me: "you know, in these days I go often to check the works in the British Cemetery, because we're doing a little maintenance there, and guess who did I meet yesterday? Chiara Costaguta! Your customer! Se was there to bring a rose on the grave of Prof. Ottavio!", I startled, hearing the name of Chiara, I did not expect anything similar! and I was upset, thinking that, just yesterday she was in Bordighera, exactly while I was discovering the secret of the key, but I was also glad, this news made the ritual even more perfect! Chiara had felt the need to revisit the place where she had buried her father! So, maybe, something in her mind was moving, all the hate might have given way to the desire to understand. Interesting development! I thought.
I told him that, the last time I saw Chiara was a month ago; now, it was my turn to be secretive and evasive. I looked vacantly the Omega of my father, and said, "good heavens! I'm in a terrible late, I'm expected in Ventimiglia in less than 20 minutes! Dear Bassano, it has been a pleasure to meet you, but now I really have to run away, the work is calling!"
I reached the taxi parking area, slightly delayed on my predictions, but the conversation had been interesting!
When I arrived to the House of Acanthus, Luigi almost did not recognize me, he had never seen me with the dress of the important meetings! At five past ten in the morning, I was walking up the last steps of the stairs of the tower, I opened the door of the study of Ottavio, then I sat the bag on the desk, I opened the window and opened outward the shutters, now the light was perfect!
I extracted the key from my pocket, a slight pressure on the little round piece of wood, and then when I inserted the key in the lock, it entered perfectly! Before turning the key, I think probably I have invoked the gods! Then I turned delicately the key, and the mechanism took smoothly, the wooden panel was unlocked, I was excited when I lifted it, under the first there was another sliding panel, to protect the content from dust, I did scroll the second panel, and finally I looked inside the cavity: I saw a book, no, not properly a book, it was a notebook in a leather pouch, it was like a diary or something, it was just what I was hoping to find and somehow I was expecting! I took it and put it on the desktop, now I had to take the other object contained in the trap door: It was a box, roughly octagonal made of glass, the glass plates were held together by thin brass edges, inside, inserted on a purple velvet, I saw a simple ring, made of iron, the particular thing was that the ring looked old, very old, and consumed, on it, there was a drawing that I couldn't interpret, also the drawing was very consumed and almost unreadable.
I put also the glass box on the desk, closed the door in the floor, the rite was almost complete,
I sat at the desk in front of the leather notebook, I opened the door on the right at the bottom of the desk, and I extracted a delicious liqueur glass, from a valuable Crystal Service, it was a glass by Venini, the company of Murano, year 1934, designer Carlo Scarpa; then I took the bottle of Porto from the bag, and filled the liqueur glass; I took from the jacket, the smoking pipe and tobacco bag, loaded the pipe carefully, drank a sip of port and, for some time, I watched the spirals of smoke that were wrapped in the light rays coming from the window, I drank another sip of that magnificent Porto, I wore the small reading glasses, now, I was ready: I opened the old and seasoned, leather pouch, and appeared to me the first page: good quality paper, yellowed a bit, some damp spot here and there, I began to read:
Diary and memories
Of Lieutenant of Vessel Ottavio Costaguta, Year 1940
Below, a watercolor drawing, with what I now know to be the shield of Legio V Macedonica, similar to the one depicted in the Notitia Dignitatum. Above and below it, two Latin words: Nihil Nusquam.
In the golden light of the study, Ottavio was about to begin his story, while in the room the Gods were smiling around me.
*****
"THE NOWHERE LEGION" AAR by SeniorBatavianHorse.
- Here some covers of the Magazine 'Minotaure'.
- Here the Wiki about 'Minotaure', it could be the right starting point, for those who did not know the magazine, and are interested in the artistic avantgardes of XIX century,
Re: The House of Acanthus - inspired by The Nowhere Legion by SBH.
Ordinarius
Comes Limitis
Originally Posted by SeniorBatavianHorse
...Sorry I was trying some fonts and I forgort to return to Verdana....sorry I'll correct! And thank you!
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The Way of the Buffalo
Grote Smurf
Tribunus Vacans
Campidoctor
No, your version is so much better, the way you fill in all the little details, educate us on architecture, avantgarde magazines, what you are wearing, all the tiny bits that, when put together become the synergy of a few sentences into a much greater, magical prose.
I came, I read, I wrote
Wrinkly Wordsmith
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