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New architectures for school: Elementary school and kindergarten A. Monaco

Description

The new school Goriano Sicoli comes from a social emergency and settlement, that after the earthquake of April last year and offers a response designed to fit in local landscape. Established by the result of an intense campaign of solidarity is located along the tree-lined street of Valeria, the edges of the old town, near the main hall and public gardens. A compact volume, the horizontal profile with contemporary architecture of the language bluntly confronted with the uncompromising context the historic center, on the opposite side of the road. On the northern front, a porch light and thin structure, raised above the cover profile, it uses an irregular pattern of white wooden profiles, sought to establish a relationship with the row of plane trees and acacia trees along the road and accentuate the horizontality volume.

The building is organized on a single floor of approximately 800 square meters. of floor area, raised above the street level of 50 cm .. The plan has a double sleeve system divided into two areas with respect to the atrium-entry: one is the school 5 elementary classrooms, two special and sanitation, alongside the nursery school with canteen and common room to complete the provision of community services, working for other social structures existing in the Municipality. The structure is made entirely of wood.

The external walls and internal panels are made of plywood made of pine wood boards and glued side by side, cross-laminated. The floor covering is made of sandwich panels pre-assembled, consisting of a warping of the internal structural elements of wood glued pine and 2 outer layers; are made of OSB panels, thermal insulation and stiffening elements of the plan coverage. The lining is made with fire protection panels plaster fiber.

The openings are of different types: big cuts with precise complementary openings on the walls, horizontal cracks at various heights, but for kids, light from cuts in the classrooms with solar tubes provide horizontal and in the hallways. The radiant heating system combined with an efficient air handling system with heat recovery, allowing the sustainable management of the complex, also the installation of photovoltaic panels with an annual production of about 2500 kw / h, contributes to the reduction of CO2 emissions.

The whole structure is totally covered with rough planks of larch arranged vertically to form groups for different width. The bottling of the windows, the connection with the sills, the door frames show an attention to detail of construction which allows the outer skin to enter the environment. The contrast between these elements in raw wood, natural color and vibrancy of the doors, the work of young artists Turin, favors the emergence of an ironic and challenging environment.

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LOFT

the loft is a 'home made from a unique environment, usually an abandoned industrial area of \u200b\u200bconsiderable size, characterized by heights much higher than those for domestic buildings constructed for residential use and increased window areas, with inclusion of sanitation facilities suitable for use in custom homes and very comfortable.

The study of transformation is particularly successful when performed starting by promoting an background made functional with the new residential use.

Recovery of disused industrial spaces for residential use also has another positive aspect to avoid use of the land, removing the artifacts to a state of progressive degradation with apparent recovery landscape.

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3 ... 2 ... 1 ...

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Christmas greetings

TO ALL THE FRIENDS OF THE FOOT great hope of the Holy and Merry Christmas.

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Hiku

Slowly through August

this life of mine flows Over

never the same twice

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Rafael

The hot and sultry days of July are difficult to bear in the country. The air is so heavy to consume all energies, even breathing requires effort.

is the second hard, hard summer Rafael passes in Italy, to work in the "White Horse Ranch." More terrible hot asfisiante for a keeper of horses, there is only the big chill. In January and February when the ice covers all thing and freezes any movement, even the most subtle.

two years ago he left his homeland, his family, his life, the real one made of emotions, dreams, hopes, difficulties and even failures, but always shared with loved ones, that where the hard work has paid off in the evening when you come home, see the smile of your wife and your daughters plays that tell you what they learned in school. It

spent almost a year since he managed to return to Romania for a few weeks since the last time she saw her children. Nina, his wife came to visit him rather recently, there was only a few days, but when the difficulties require such a sacrifice we learn to truly appreciate the immense value contained in the expression "only a few days."

Every evening, after finishing to distribute the hay, after ten hours of toil and sweat, after having dinner with the family of his employer, Rafael across the field to get sand in his small apartment behind the saddle. Around him, darkness and silence, broken only from barking dogs. It's like a ritual that is repeated at the end of each day, a short time set in the path from the house to the building of the upholstery. In that short stretch of road is free to think what can not stand this life. Two shoveling manure times a day in each box, in every paddock, and the smell of horse is imprinted on his clothes and his skin. But this is not: he loves all this , loves "his" horses, the only friends in this foreign land, the only ones who are not only meeting to tell him to do something, to be faster, to cure Pablo and the leg to fix the fence, the only ones who do not look at him smugly while moving bales of hay in the hot sun, the only people who would ask if they could talk to in the morning "how are you?".

is this indifference, this pathetic air of superiority, this distance that Rafael would wash away with the smell of manure mixed with mud or bare ground. But the soap is not enough.

Moreover there is still little, a few months, a couple of years at most, and then will return to his family to return to live a dignified life and happy.

Hundreds of miles away, a girl of six years while his mother weeps disinfects the knee after a fall from the bicycle and reassures her that when learning to ride is easy to fall, but then gets up and puts you in saddle, the next day.

His father does not know who is falling, which is now frightened. Maybe he thinks that soon he will teach her to ride to and maybe we can not guess the surprise waiting for him to see that have already learned. And even if you do not know what that is, already beset by the regret of not being able to see that first fall.

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Prison Break

E 'be in here talking to you, from my narrow hole in the prison . An escape-proof fortress.
The prison in question, that they are locked up, does not exist.
E 'why it is so difficult to escape. It has no bars, no cells, no guards. Nor has a perimeter of high walls and barbed wire.
No heavy security door. There is a reference to it.
In fact, it has no interior.
I can not escape from this prison, but This does not mean that sometimes we do not try. I know that other people are locked up, I hear, I see them, but they are there with me. I see them in the cage, I do not know if they see me. All those who like me are locked up they struggle and get frustrated. If you want to imagine it, is one of the infernal circles. Burroni of sharp rocks, flames that are burning back. Human figures, dirty, chained, who complain and drag.
I'm alone in this. In this prison, I can move freely, and this is the reason why I can not leave. Everywhere I go, are always trapped. There is no place where it can go, but they are strangely still inside. With difficulty I have tried many Sometimes a tunnel to escape, and when I thought of finding it, I have embarked on, but I did not know that the output was always the slammer. Years passed between anger and sadness, spent whole years to devise plans to escape to leave behind the cage. I did not know that outside of the prison there is always a prison.
Sometimes, I was convinced I escaped, I was happy to have found freedom, until they beat back the face against the bars.
metal bars that do not play when the beat. Bars
smoke.
Bars that do not exist.
are locked in this prison because I'm locked up there.
There are no maps or blueprints of this place is a maze that changes, that changes its corridors based on where I move. The ethereal
prison.
The eternal prison.
I just have to try one last time. The last bold attempt to escape by a prisoner tired. The only thing that remains to be tested is to stop wanting to escape.
Who knows, maybe this time I can.

In The Buff With Older Women

Colombia

My journey in Colombia began a month ago. He wanted to be a great journey in search of the wisdom of this war-torn nation for centuries, a people of so many different ethnic backgrounds but united by a common destiny. Sitting at the table of my apartment in Rome I can distinctly taste the memories and it seems to me to go walking down there. Aracataca to breathe the smell of the pages written by Gabriel Garcia Marques, and they felt as if the voices of contributing in every corner of the street, as if we were magically landed in the mythical village of Macondo, where in a house out of the time you hear the sighs of Amaranta Ursula and Aureliano. In this magical place, the streets overlooked by the balconies of beautiful old colonial houses, colorful strokes of the flowers, which feels distinctly the smell of war and history, in this corner of the world in which we see towering up to challenge the sky and skyscrapers just beyond degradation and the mud of the slums, in this land incredibly rich in tradition and energy, I have tried the meaning of human life.

I found the scent of the sun rising on the horizon and caress the roofs of the cabins here in the suburbs, I felt the warmth of its rays on the bare dusty ground in Colombia, I saw the faces of beautiful women so that instead of envy or jealousy aroused in me only admiration and delight, I saw the mixture of colors so incredible that I did not think could be really, I heard the voice of freedom in the songs of children playing in bare feet, the warmth of the love of a mother forced from poverty to prostitute herself and selling her body to raise his son, the meaning of true happiness in guffaws of two girls jumping rope and have fun just like that, even gets on your clothing without the need to have expensive toys and the perfect playground.

Here I thought I would find answers to what happiness is and where does it lead the search for the meaning of our existence. I found the look of an old man sitting on the edge of a road and I saw the incredible light that reflected the eyes of the man who in life never had anything and never asked for anything more than that void, because in reality maybe he had it all.