Ricordo di Pier Giacomo Castiglioni

Era la fine del ’64 ed io ero poco più che un ragazzo, quando sono diventato assistente volontario di Pier Giacomo Castiglioni, al Politecnico di Milano.
Stavo finendo allora il servizio militare, avevo già alle spalle qualche anno di pratica di architettura negli studi milanesi dei Mangiarotti e Morassutti e di Giancarlo De Carlo, e tuttavia, insicuro e inquieto anche allora, già meditavo di “fare il salto”, di passare ad occuparmi a tempo pieno di urbanistica, come in effetti qualche tempo dopo accadde.
Come fu che, mentre venivo maturando tale inclinazione verso i problemi del territorio e dell’area vasta, io mi fossi deciso ad impegnarmi in un corso di “disegno”, al prim’anno di architettura, risulterebbe in effetti incomprensibile, ove non si considerasse il fascino che, su quel giovane architetto curioso e assetato di esperienze che ero allora, esercitava il “personaggio” Castiglioni: non mi volevo lasciar sfuggire questa occasione straordinaria, di conoscere più da vicino l’approccio al disegno e al progetto, il modo di lavorare e di pensare, di quello che già era un maestro del design contemporaneo e che tuttavia si presentava con un tratto umano così semplice e schietto, quasi timido, sottilmente ironico, come di chi non vuol mai prendersi troppo sul serio, di chi conosce il segreto di lavorare giocando.
Non so quanto mi sia riuscito di capire in profondità il metodo di Pier Giacomo. Ricordo soprattutto le molte, lunghe, intense riunioni serali, nello studio di Piazza Castello, tra Pier Giacomo e noi assistenti, per preparare le esercitazioni. Ricordo alcune specifiche esercitazioni (quella sui coltelli, più di cento mi pare, ciascuno con la sua specifica forma e funzione; o quella sulla bicicletta del record dell’ora di Riviére, o quelle sull’arco, o sul canotto ecc.). In condizioni difficili, con tantissimi studenti da seguire uno per uno, come la materia richiedeva, abbiamo cercato di dare una mano, forse più discenti noi stessi che docenti, cercando comunque di essere per gli studenti un punto d’appoggio, un po’ come dei fratelli maggiori. A posteriori, capisco che avrei potuto fare di più e meglio, che il mio contributo e impegno è stato piuttosto insufficiente.
E tuttavia qualcosa è rimasto. Molti anni dopo, quando, lasciato infine il lavoro urbanistico e sui sistemi verdi di grande scala, che mi aveva impegnato per quasi vent’anni, sono approdato al Parco Nord, ad un verde cioè di scala più urbana e soprattutto ad un verde ancora tutto da disegnare; quando dunque son tornato a cimentarmi con il problema del disegno, mi sono accorto che un qualche bagaglio in quella materia me l’ero portato appresso, e che era giunto il momento di rispolverarlo ed impiegarlo. Senza alcuna pretesa di imitare il tocco leggero e felice dell’amico e maestro Pier Giacomo Castiglioni, ma con molta gratitudine per averlo potuto conoscere.

Francesco Borella
novembre 2012

It was the end of 1964, and I was little more than a boy when I became voluntary assistant to Pier Giacomo Castiglioni at the Polytechnic University of Milan.
I was finishing my military service at that time, and I already had a few years of architectural practice under my belt, having worked in the Milan studios of Mangiarotti and Morassutti, and of Giancarlo De Carlo. However, uncertain and restless as I was even then, I was already contemplating “making the leap” to focus full-time on urban planning, as I eventually did some time later.
How I decided to commit myself to a “drawing” course in the first year of architecture, while I was developing this inclination for territorial and regional issues, would indeed be incomprehensible, were it not for the fascination that the “figure” of Castiglioni held for me, a curious young architect eager for experience. I didn’t want to miss this extraordinary opportunity to closely observe the approach to drawing and design, the working and thinking methods of someone who was already a master of contemporary design, yet presented himself in such a simple, genuine, almost shy and subtly ironic manner, like someone who never took himself too seriously, someone who knew the secret of playing while working.
I do not know whether I succeeded in understanding Pier Giacomo’s method in depth. What stands out in my memory are the many long, intense evening meetings in the Piazza Castello studio, where we – Pier Giacomo and his assistants – prepared the exercises. I remember certain specific exercises (the one about knives – more than a hundred, I think – each with its specific shape and function; or the one about Riviére’s hour record bicycle, or those about the arch, or the inflatable boat, and so on). In difficult conditions, with a great number of students to follow individually, as the subject required, we tried to lend a hand, perhaps more as learners than teachers, but still striving to support the students, a bit like older brothers. With the benefit of hindsight, I realize that I could have done more and better, that my contribution and commitment were rather insufficient.
And yet, something remained. Many years later, after I finally left the urban planning and large-scale green system work which had occupied me for almost twenty years, I landed at Parco Nord, a green space on a more urban scale, and above all one still entirely to be designed. When I faced again the challenge of drawing, I realized that some knowledge of the subject had stayed with me, and it was now time to dust it off and put it to use. Without any pretence of imitating the light and masterly touch of my friend and teacher Pier Giacomo Castiglioni, but with deep gratitude for having had the chance to know him.

It was the end of 1964, and I was little more than a boy when I became voluntary assistant to Pier Giacomo Castiglioni at the Polytechnic University of Milan.
I was finishing my military service at that time, and I already had a few years of architectural practice under my belt, having worked in the Milan studios of Mangiarotti and Morassutti, and of Giancarlo De Carlo. However, uncertain and restless as I was even then, I was already contemplating “making the leap” to focus full-time on urban planning, as I eventually did some time later.
How I decided to commit myself to a “drawing” course in the first year of architecture, while I was developing this inclination for territorial and regional issues, would indeed be incomprehensible, were it not for the fascination that the “figure” of Castiglioni held for me, a curious young architect eager for experience. I didn’t want to miss this extraordinary opportunity to closely observe the approach to drawing and design, the working and thinking methods of someone who was already a master of contemporary design, yet presented himself in such a simple, genuine, almost shy and subtly ironic manner, like someone who never took himself too seriously, someone who knew the secret of playing while working.
I do not know whether I succeeded in understanding Pier Giacomo’s method in depth. What stands out in my memory are the many long, intense evening meetings in the Piazza Castello studio, where we – Pier Giacomo and his assistants – prepared the exercises. I remember certain specific exercises (the one about knives – more than a hundred, I think – each with its specific shape and function; or the one about Riviére’s hour record bicycle, or those about the arch, or the inflatable boat, and so on). In difficult conditions, with a great number of students to follow individually, as the subject required, we tried to lend a hand, perhaps more as learners than teachers, but still striving to support the students, a bit like older brothers. With the benefit of hindsight, I realize that I could have done more and better, that my contribution and commitment were rather insufficient.
And yet, something remained. Many years later, after I finally left the urban planning and large-scale green system work which had occupied me for almost twenty years, I landed at Parco Nord, a green space on a more urban scale, and above all one still entirely to be designed. When I faced again the challenge of drawing, I realized that some knowledge of the subject had stayed with me, and it was now time to dust it off and put it to use. Without any pretence of imitating the light and masterly touch of my friend and teacher Pier Giacomo Castiglioni, but with deep gratitude for having had the chance to know him.

Francesco Borella
November 2012

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