Et in Arcadia ego.
Arcadia is the country of meadows and fields in Greek mythology, the bygone golden age, in which man still lived in harmony with nature, and where the muses also found a home. The god Pan lived in Arcadia, with the nymphs and dryads, this was the land of untouched, wild forests. Arcadia symbolized a world devoid of civilization for the Greeks, and later for the creators of the Renaissance and Romanticism.
Les Mondes Engloutis
For my generation, Arcadia is the decaying city of the "Sunken Worlds" (Les Mondes Engloutis) whose sun is dying. This was perhaps the first fairy tale - in the form of a French cartoon - about sustainability, environmental responsibility, cultures and civilizations that was shown at the end of the 80s, with a very special visual world. Anyone who saw it as a child still remembers its special, mystical atmosphere.
Arcadia Darell
Another age, another tale. Arcadia is not a city this time, but a restless teenage girl interested in the secrets of the universe. And considering the universe, it is none other than the world of Isaac Asimov's Foundation, the scene of this incomparably brilliant, shocking and thought-provoking series of novels.
De Arcitectura
Because if we want to understand cities, we have to learn to understand the language of architects. And we have to think in buildings and about buildings, about construction, destruction and more and more, mostly about reconstruction. And we have to think even more about everything that is between the buildings. About streets, squares, parks. About markets. About playgrounds. About waterfronts. About ad hoc small green islands converted from parking lots. About puddles, bee pastures, butterfly gardens. Because that's where life takes place, in the spaces in between. The life of the city. And the quality of this life really determines the quality of our life in the city.
Archeologia
A tour guide once said about Rome: it's like lasagna.
Every city is like lasagna.
Thousands of years of past are layered on the surface and below the surface.
But - quoting Calvino again - “the city, however, does not tell its past, but contains it like the lines of a hand, written in the corners of the streets, the gratings of the windows, the banisters of the steps, the antennae of the lightning roads, the poles of the flags, every segment marked in turn with scratches, indetations, scrolls.”
The city is a museum in itself, with the difference that its deep layers are not dead, they live on not only in ancient ruins and maps, but also define us to this day.