Dreaming of Intragna

My uncle and aunt have a vacation house in the tiny village of Intragna. Intragna is located in the Centovalli region of Ticino, the Italian-speaking canton of Switzerland. Every time I visit my family, I try to come to this place, an enchanted little town at the end of the Melezza river valley. The sound of its name makes me think of Traum, the German word for “dream” — the escape to its tranquility and beauty feels apropos. The FART (Ferrovie Autolinee Regionali Ticinesi, and yes, I always get a kick out of this acronym) connects Intragna to Locarno in the west, and Domodossola, Italy, to the east. Below, some details from last December, when aunts, uncles, cousins, and partners convened for the holidays.

Above, Conrad explains the structure of the village.

Above, Susanne and Conrad. Their house is a duplex, designed by Conrad, and built on the solid granite characteristic of the valley.

A treasure encountered on a stroll through town. I think it was for sale — if only…

The hillsides were once cultivated and/or terraced for grazing. Now all is covered with chestnut trees (and German dialect-speakers during summer vacations).

On a walk through the village, roofs kissing.

Late afternoon across the gulch, looking east at the FART bridge. On the right side of this path is a precipitous drop to the river below. Sam and I had a fun time pretending to push each other off. (Or was that just me?) This was part of the old road through the valley, until the stone bridge crossing over the river collapsed. Now it is part of a Wanderweg.

The renovated attic of the barn next door. Future atelier?

The door off its hinges — salvaged from the renovations, I think. So lovely… I wonder when and by whom it was made. Below, pictures from the entrance to the “atelier.”

Above, a detail of a gate (less rustic compared to the image prior).

According to Conrad, people in the village traditionally mark their property lines with little astrikses. I think you connect the dots to find out the boundaries — it involves some very careful looking. Below, a freshly painted indicator.

And another, a bit older — do you see it?

I like this picture of my aunt Monika and cousin Ursula in the kitchen at Co & Su’s.

And finally, a last picture in the station before catching the train back. I would like to think the image is of chinotto, a bitter drink beloved in Italy… and not some kind of cola. But perhaps there’s beauty in ambiguity? It’s certainly pretty “refreshing” to see a brandless vending machine.

Halls of Art Center

When Sam was here a while back (time is really flying, jeez) we ventured up the hills of western Pasadena to visit the main campus of Art Center College of Design. This was mostly because I was so curious to see the place, a long black box designed by Craig Ellwood Associates in the 1970s. (Apparently, Ellwood closed his office afterward and moved to Italy.) The school itself, if you don’t know about it, was founded in Los Angeles in 1930, and became renowned for its automotive design program. Two especially interesting historical notes for me: following World War II, many Art Center students were returned G.I.s seeking vocational training for careers in design; the school also had an educational partnership with CalTech.

Not a ton of pictures to share, just a couple hallways:

Neutra Community Workout

Sometimes, little pieces of the city are filled in for you, in ways both surprising and revelatory. For example, from time to time I spied people pulling over near the Figueroa exit of the 134 east, but I never imagined that there was an entire community recreation center and park behind the stand of pines along the edge of the road there. But then, had I ever had occasion to turn right instead of left at that stoplight? If I had, I would have seen the entrance and parking lot for the building. Perhaps I would have even noticed it was designed by Richard J. Neutra.

Well, that’s not entirely correct. His son, Dion, is credited for the structure, which was built in 1953. Still, how could I have missed this place, directly under my nose? That’s what this city is like, people. I mean, seriously. The neighborhood just got bigger, over the course of one morning.

I checked out the public bathrooms, on the left side of the building as you see it above. They had clearly been retrofitted: terrifying beige chain link cordoned off the space; it looked like a prison cell. But the floor was beautiful! Just another reminder of how use/function/need change over time.

In an older photograph I saw, the “terra cotta”-painted brick was white in color, which, you can probably imagine, looked far chicer. (Besides, painting brick the color of brick? Don’t get it. Perhaps it was an attempt to “unify” the disparate materials?)

Aside from the typical clean lines and planar convergences/divergences, the building seems notable for its literally transformative elements: walls that are doors, converting indoor spaces to outdoor, etc. I do wonder if this likely central aspect of the building’s original function is still made use of today. An old banner advertising concerts in the park indicated it was a possibility. The off-white wall behind it folds back to create a stage, and the lawn in front is on a slope, creating a kind of minimalist amphitheater.

Finally, a peek inside — a Sunday game with the boys. The clerestory is beautiful, and I love all the old wood. Still, the place looks like it could use a little restorative love. Do they use the indoor stage ever? I will have to keep tabs on this place… oh yes, and it’s official name: Eagle Rock Playground Clubhouse.