I was standing in a dusty courtyard in Ravenna last autumn, tracing the uneven way a medieval mason had notched a limestone block, when I found myself thinking about the sheer noise surrounding modern high-tech architecture. People talk about Renzo…
I was surveying a sixteenth-century palazzo in Palermo last autumn when I found myself staring, not at the frescoed ceiling, but at a single, rusted iron strap hinge. Most people walk through these halls and see only the grand scale…
Last summer, while I was tucked into a corner of a crumbling villa near Syracuse, I found myself tracing the faint, weathered grooves in a limestone slab. Most people walk past these sites looking for grand columns or marble gods,…
I was standing in a dusty courtyard outside of Ostuni last July, my knees aching from kneeling beside a crumbling limestone plinth, when I realized how much we get wrong about these structures. Tourists and real estate developers love to…
I was kneeling in the dust of a crumbling boundary wall in the hills outside Syracuse last July, my fingers tracing the jagged edge of a limestone block that refused to sit flush. Most people look at a pile of…
Last Tuesday, I found myself in a crumbling palazzo near Ravenna, tracing the grain of a sixteenth-century chestnut portal with my thumb. Most people walk past these entrances, seeing only a barrier or a decorative flourish, but they miss the…
I was kneeling in the damp dust of a villa near Ostia last Tuesday, my knees aching in that familiar way, when I realized I had spent twenty minutes photographing nothing but a single, misplaced corner of a tuff block….
I was sitting in a small café in Milan last spring, staring at a piece of laminate that looked like it had been rejected from a fever dream, when it hit me how much we misunderstand the chaos of the…
I was kneeling in a damp, narrow calle near Cannaregio last November, my knees aching against the slick Istrian stone, when I realized how much we get wrong about the city. Most guidebooks treat the concept of venice and building…
I was kneeling in the dust of a courtyard in Alberobello last July, my knees aching and my hands stained with limestone grit, when I realized how much the travel brochures lie to you. Most people visit puglia and the…