A chat with the art gallery owner who has been dealing with avant-garde for at least three decades, who wanted to be a photographer, and whose debut is linked to the 1980s and an abandoned factory.
Domus meets the photographer in his house and studio. A space where photos and objects are the epitome of decades spent travelling and working, of his love for art, as well as portraying the very strong bond with his wife Angela.
Italian novelist Andrea Bajani writes about a small hotel in the Veneto hills, where, on the occasion of a local literary festival, he has been lodging in room number 8 for years, in stays of one week at a time.
The gallerist’s Neapolitan home is a house that dives into the sea, and is surrounded by an enormous terrace. Inside, new and old meet, and the works of artists dear to her are displayed.
Two months among someone else’s furniture, portraits of ancestors on the walls, grating on the windows to discourage burglars, and outside Rome’s sky. For the Italian writer, this is where the verses of L’amore viene prima came.
In the design of houses, architects today often forget a fundamental element: things. Starting from the reflections of Sottsass and Coccia, we asked ourselves if the houses need the objects, or vice versa.
“I arrived in Milan in 1954. I had left Pesaro, together with my brother Giò, with a global dream”: the sculptor talks about his historic workspace, a former post house that Gregotti renovated for him in the 1980s.
With the Multiply project, architect Enrico Forestieri explores the potential for spatial and perceptive transformation of a small, not very “Milanese” home.
The French architect and designer has transformed an anonymous apartment in Normandy into a domestic stage, giving life to a creative and dynamic environment.
Loved and hated, hot desking was already popular in the New York of the 1990s. From Domus archives, the Italian designer’s project for the advertising agency Chiat/Day.
One of the most eminent living photographers, he has documented the evolution of Italy from WWII to the present day with a clear and empathetic gaze. We met him in his attic studio.
A mansard “on a slope” in Montmarte, a 30 square meters space to fill and empty with small metamorphic exercises. It was here that the writer started to imagine his novel titled Every Promise.
For half a century, the most important figures of the Italian creative scene have passed by the house of the artists’ photographer, in the heart of Milan.
The writer recounts his stays in Kiel – two brief periods of ten days each – sojourning in what he describes as “little more than a large room, but everything about it made it feel like a house.” His aim was to go and write a novel at the edge of Europe
The French architect Manuelle Gotrand plays with lights and colors creating a space with attention to detail, alternating intimacy and exposure.
