21

Garbatella

G intro

 

For week two in Roma I decided to head just south of the city centre and explore a neighbourhood called Garbatella. I guess it’s only a 30 minute bus ride from Pigneto but it may as well be on another planet. In fact, it’s different from anywhere else in Rome as far as I can tell, a planned garden suburb built in the 1920s for the working classes.

While it verges dangerously on the picturesque at times, its odd mix of faux ancient Roman and Fascist Modern, as well as various slaps of paint about the place indicating the political leaning of the community as well as their favourite soccer team, keeps it from being too pretty – or touristy.

Some background… Post-WWI, Rome needed to house workers. They chose a big patch of empty land on some hills south of Rome and gave a handful of architects a brief – design a village-type settlement similar to the English garden cities of the time, complete with communal areas and tillable land.

The result? A large assortment of lotti (lots or blocks), each different but similar, comprising of low rise buildings set around central courtyards, with medieval, Renaissance and Baroque motifs scattered around the joint.

The name may or may not come from Carlotta, a woman who ran a local tavern, whose nickname was Garbata Ostella (courteous innkeeper).

Okay, let’s meander.

 

Part 1: Country life

To reach the lotti you have to walk five minutes from the Metro, past depressing blocks of crappy high-rise. You know you’ve hit the spot when you suddenly feel like you’ve been transported back in time – or at least somewhere far from urban Rome. The streets start to twist and turn, lined with two or three storey buildings in various shades of burnt orange and pale red. Passageways lead to courtyards inside the lotti, where the apartments look onto communal gardens, some more loved than others, and an area filled with rows of washing lines. Residents relax on outdoor chairs, kids kick a ball around and cats drape themselves over pillars. And because it’s spring, the whole place is dripping with green, purple, pink and blue.

Tourists don’t know what they’re missing.

 

tree house

tree house

 

 

 

 

from another time - Anna

from another time - Anna

 

 

 

 

Lot No 21

Lot No 21

 

 

 

 

green Garbatella

green Garbatella

 

 

 

 

the arch

the arch

 

 

 

 

across the orange-red colour spectrum

across the orange-red colour spectrum

 

 

 

 

orange - Gabriella

orange - Gabriella

 

 

 

 

purple lace - Flavia

purple lace - Flavia

 

 

 

 

summer love

summer love

 

 

 

 

late afternoon light

late afternoon light

 

 

 

 

spotlight

spotlight

 

 

 

 

lazy days

lazy days

 

 

 

 

opposite directions

opposite directions

 

 

 

 

Part 2: Lotto 30

After our initial wander, we honed in on one of the lottiLotto 30. It seemed to be the most social, with regular groups of residents congregating in various corners of the courtyard for morning or afternoon natters.

On one of our visits we met 27 year old Cecile who lives here with her young son, Riccardo, and husband. She explained how the lotti work – if you’re not born into one you’ve got Buckely’s chance of living here. Most of them are owned by families who simply pass them on to the next generation to enjoy. For example, Cecile is the third generation to be born here – her grandmother was the first and her young son, the fourth. Will she stay forever? Maybe not as she loves the sea but…

 

 

family

family

 

 

 

 

watching over the kids - Cecile and friend, Francesca

watching over the kids - Cecile and friend, Francesca

 

 

 

 

roots - Riccardo, the fourth generation to be born here

roots - Riccardo, the fourth generation to be born here

 

 

 

 

star looks - Francesca

star looks - Francesca

 

 

 

 

The gardens here used to be well tended but are looking a little lacklustre now. But what I loved about the courtyard was the pride of place given to the rows of washing lines. They are literally and metaphorically the heart of Lotto 30.

 

 

love blossomed under the washing lines

love blossomed under the washing lines

 

 

 

Next to the washing lines we met young sisters Nicole and Rebecca playing with fellow resident, Sophia, and a long-suffering pink-plaited rag doll.

 

 

play time at Lotto 30

play time at Lotto 30

 

 

 

 

Rebecca, Nicole and ragdoll

Rebecca, Nicole and rag doll

 

 

 

 

The girls were busy making their rag doll as filthy as possible. When we visited the next day we found the doll had found her way into a washing machine and had been hung out to try – next to Sophia’s t-shirt.

 

thank god for Omo

thank god for Omo

 

 

 

the day before and the day after - Sophia

the day before and the day after - Sophia

 

 

 

 

Behind the washing, Marissa, Mirella and Rita had taken up their regular possie.

 

 

at the washing lines - Mirella, Marissa and Rita

deep in conversation

 

 

 

 

the power of three

the power of three

 

 

 

 

covered in flowers

covered in flowers

 

 

 

While we were there Anna and son Andrea, who we’d met a few days before, wandered in. She may only have come up to my waist but I still felt small next to her fierceness. Sweet fierceness that is.

 

 

Anna and son, Andrea

Anna and son, Andrea

 

 

 

 

87 years of use - Anna's hands

87 years of use - Anna's hands

 

 

 

 

sweet fierceness

sweet fierceness

 

 

 

 

I didn’t see many men sitting around shooting the breeze. I wouldn’t be surprised if they felt a little intimidated by the women of Lotto 30. Like Franco, who prefers to hang his washing out his window, thereby avoiding the need to venture down to the communal washing lines – and the signore.

 

 

hide and seek - Franco

hide and seek - Franco

 

 

 

 

Part 3: Holy smoke

There are a few churches in Garbatella, the largest one being the Church of Saint Francis Xavier. Built in the Fascist era of the 1930s, it’s striking for its lack of colour or embellishment – save for an appealing noughts and crosses pattern.

 

 

dramatic entrances - the Church of Saint Francis Xavier

dramatic entrances - the Church of Saint Francis Xavier

 

 

 

 

late afternoon

late afternoon

 

 

 

 

having a chat

having a chat

 

 

 

 

give me your hand and I will show you the way

give me your hand and I will show you the way

 

 

 

 

Now, I know little about the Catholic religion. So much so I had no idea that a major event on the Christian calendar, Corpus Domini, took place last Thursday all over Rome, with none other than the Pope presiding over one of the processions.

Well, someone must have said a prayer for me because it just so happened that the Christian folk of Garbatella didn’t celebrate on the actual day of Corpus Domini but waited until the weekend – on Sunday morning, when we happened to be at the Church of Saint Francis Xavier to take some final shots.

It seemed to be just a regular Sunday ceremony – until the entire congregation started to file out the door, led by two priests – one swinging a metal censer filled with incense and smoke, and another holding the Blessed Sacrament. I grabbed Coco and leapt off in hot pursuit.

 

the procession begins, past the graffiti

the procession begins, past the graffiti

 

 

 

 

must remember to pick up some more frankincense too

must remember to pick up some more frankincense too

 

 

 

 

What made it all the more interesting was that the evening before, Coco and I had seen the same streets being paraded on by an entirely different cast of characters – marching bands at the annual Festa per la Cultura.

Instead of nuns singing hymns…

 

 

take the next left my daughters

take the next left my daughters

 

 

 

 

we’d heard drums…

 

 

Garbatella goes wild

Garbatella goes wild

 

 

 

 

and saxaphones…

 

 

swaying to the music

swaying to the music

 

 

 

 

(We’d only popped our heads in briefly to the Festa per la Cultura – it seemed interesting but totally confusing as to what was happening where – hot and tired we left before it probably really got started.)

Anyway, back to Corpus Domini and the procession…

 

 

a superfluity of nuns

a superfluity of nuns

 

 

 

 

holy blue nails

holy blue nails

 

 

 

 

everyone was transfixed by the Blessed Sacrament

everyone was transfixed by the Blessed Sacrament

 

 

 

 

thankfully it was a car-free day

thankfully it was a car-free day

 

 

 

 

winding their way to the end

winding their way to the end

 

 

 

 

the procession endeth

the procession endeth

 

 

 

 

The procession wound up at a smaller church where everyone piled in for another ceremony. Waiting outside I descended on a few people who spoke English so I could quiz them about what we’d just seen as well as Garbatella in general. I was so busy talking to them I forgot to photograph the nuns as they left – but at least I snapped these two gorgeous things, the daughters of the families I was chatting to.

 

 

their duty done, time to eat pizza - Alessia and Matilde

their duty done, time to eat pizza - Alessia and Matilde

 

 

 

 

The Wrap

If Garbatella was an experiment in social housing, I think you’d have to say it worked. Although one resident told me she found it quite noisy at times because of the central courtyard, it’s precisely because of that design that it works so well. It acts as a shared outdoor living room, where residents meet to chew the fat, ask for help or just hand one another pegs. A case of architecture enabling relationships. Mind you, if you had a blue with someone it might just all be a little too cosy.

 

 

wilting in the heat - Garbatella's washing lines will be full tomorrow

wilting in the heat - Garbatella's washing lines will be full tomorrow

 

 

 

On the ‘home front’

I’m not sure if it’s technically spring or summer here – but it’s been hot, often hitting 29-30 degrees C. Nice if you are poolside but not when you’re pounding the tarmac, trying to engage potential subjects with just ten words of Italian up your sleeve.

My solution has been to make shorter but more frequent visits to the neighbourhood and always in the late afternoon. Which suits Coco fine – somehow we always seem to hit gelato hour when we venture out. And, terribly boring news for anyone except celiacs – they have gluten-free ice-cream cones here. Hallelujah! In fact, you can easily get hold of non-cardboard tasting gluten-free bread, biscuits and cereals in Rome – you just order them at any pharmacy and they have it for you the next day. Pronto.

Speaking of pharmacies and fast, Coco has an angry looking tonsil with an enormous white spot on it – I swear it appeared the moment I brought the maths books out. She’s taken to her bed and refuses to talk about quadrilaterals or parallelograms. Sheez.

This suburb has been brought to you by Belinda Radnidge

Seeing as we’re half way through our Rome chapter, I’d also like to say a big gelato-fueled ‘Grazie!’ to Rogerseller for sponsoring our time here.

See you next Monday.

 

19

Montreuil

M intro

 

I hate to break it to you but we’re done with Paris. However, before you pack your beret away and dust that last crumb of salted caramel macaron from your bouche, we have one last Paris to explore – the eastern suburb of Montreuil.

While one side of the suburb hugs Paris proper and is just 6.6 km from the city center, Montreuil extends a long way east. In fact, it’s the first place that I really needed a car to explore properly; apologies to any Montreuillois for ignoring large chunks of your neighbourhood.

Quick history: Named after a small monastery that the town was built around way back when. A peach growing, market gardening area until 1818 when the first factory sprouted. At the end of the nineteenth century, the film industry grew – and continues to flourish to this day. Now a mix of all sorts, including bobos who want space to have a garden or bring up a family, artists and film makers who don’t want to pay Paris rents, and Mali immigrants.

Okay, for the last time, on y va!

 

Part 1: Viewed from above

Day one I met Marie. Ex-foreign consulate, now school teacher, she kindly filled me in on the place as she wrangled a bike covered with shopping bags back to her home. As luck would have it, her home happened to be on the highest point for miles around – on the 30th floor of an apartment block, just over the border in neighbouring Bagnolet. Would I like to see the view over both Montreuil and Paris from there? Mais oui!

Much like Sydney’s Greenway Flats in Kirribilli, Marie lives with her daughter, Nour, in public housing that happens to have a million dollar view. With Nour’s solar system swirling around in the apartment and the whole of Paris behind it, I felt like I’d ascended into the heavens.

 

 

cheap housing with expensive views

cheap housing with expensive views :: 1

 

 

 

 

Nour's solar system

Nour's solar system

 

 

 

 

Planet Nour

Planet Nour

 

 

 

 

Paris-scape

Paris-scape

 

 

 

 

towering over Paris

towering over Paris

 

 

 

 

The next time we visited, the grey had lifted, allowing an even better view.

 

 

Haussmann-free zone - Montreuil

Haussmann-free zone - Montreuil

 

 

 

 

cheap housing with expensive views :: 2

cheap housing with expensive views :: 2

 

 

 

 

night falls over planet Paris

night falls over planet Paris

 

 

 

 

all lit up - the boundary between Paris and the 'burbs, the offramp of the peripherique

all lit up - the boundary between Paris and the 'burbs, the off-ramp of the périphérique

 

 

 

 

Part 2: The gardeners of Montreuil

As you might have noticed from the images above, Montreuil is rich in green space. For starters, there are three huge sprawling parks, only one of which – Parc Jean Moulin – we had time to explore.

Aside from that many of the homes have gardens, much coveted no doubt by day tripping Parisians.

And if you don’t have your own house like Marie, you can always apply for a patch of your own in the community garden – after all, if you’re a Montreuillois, you gotta garden.

 

the veggie garden

the veggie garden

 

 

 

 

from beginning to end

from beginning to end

 

 

 

 

where the wild things grow

where the wild things grow

 

 

 

 

ready for a day in the garden

ready for a day in the garden

 

 

 

In fact, the Montreuillois take gardening so seriously, there’s an annual event dedicated to making your life as la jardiniere or le jardinier that much more enriching. Started by locals Dorothée and Yann 12 years ago, Troc Vert closes off one of the streets and invites people to swing past and exchange their plants. Bored of your marigolds? Swap it for someone else’s rosemary. Everyone’s happy.

 

 

exchange your plants

exchange your plants

 

 

 

 

By the time Coco and I got there, most of the exchanging had been done. But there were still some of the potted shoes available for purchase.

 

 

the surprising gardens of Montreuil

the surprising gardens of Montreuil

 

 

 

 

potted shoes

potted shoes

 

 

 

 

they're all green thumbs

they're all green thumbs

 

 

 

 

It was clearly a green day but I couldn’t help noticing how much French Blue there was too, especially so on the females wandering around…

 

 

Sarah

Sarah

 

 

 

 

Paloma and Mia

Paloma and Mia

 

 

 

 

that look

that look

 

 

 

 

lady in blue

lady in blue

 

 

 

 

Mariko, naturopath

Mariko, naturopath

 

 

 

 

a rockin' mum-to-be - DJ Eva with David

a rockin' mum-to-be - DJ Eva with David

 

 

 

 

Part 3: Pink

Aside from green/French Blue Troc Vert, there was another colourful event going on that day called Les Manufactories, by a Collectif d’artistes et d’artsians. I only found out about it as it was winding up but as far as I could make out, various studios and shops of artists and artisans around the neighbourhood had opened their doors to the public for the day.

All you had to do was follow the pink line and keep an eye out for pink balloons – or garlands – or people…

 

the day Montreuil turned pink

the day Montreuil turned pink

 

 

 

 

Zoe, dressed for both green and pink days

Zoe, supporting both green and pink

 

 

 

 

poppy love

poppy love

 

 

 

 

mascara and violet eyes - Monique

mascara and violet eyes - Monique

 

 

 

 

As I said, we were too late to the party so I can’t show you any of the art or craft. But I did stick my head into Dorothee and Yann’s house towards the end of the day to see what a family house in Montreuil might look like.

 

 

greenery, outside and in

greenery, outside and in

 

 

 

 

inside Dorothee and Yann's house

inside Dorothée and Yann's house

 

 

 

 

pink and green won the day

pink and green won the day

 

 

 

 

It was only 7pm when we left but by that time I was absolutely exhausted, having stayed up stupidly late the night before working on last week’s post. I had just enough energy to take a few snaps of the band that was now entertaining the happy gardeners before Coco and I slipped away, back to the muted tones of Paris.

 

 

where even the music is green

where even the music is green

 

 

 

 

shadow dancing

shadow dancing

 

 

 

 

kicking on into the night

kicking on into the night

 

 

 

 

Part 4: More space

Aside from the green spaces, Montreuil also has an abundance of sports fields and tracks. On one of our visits we met a group of school kids doing soccer practice. Different ages but all from the same school. As I looked through my camera lens I forgot where I was for a moment – Paris? Non!

 

 

airborn

airborn

 

 

 

 

France vs Africa?

France vs Africa?

 

 

 

 

hey

hey

 

 

 

 

the smile

the smile

 

 

 

 

colours of Africa

colours of Africa

 

 

 

 

enough

enough

 

 

 

On another visit we caught the tail end of a soccer game being played on another field just around the corner. So different to Paris where petanque was the most energetic sport we’d watched.

 

 

sunset soccer

sunset soccer

 

 

 

 

Part 5: A few bits and pieces

As I mentioned before, I really only explored a small slice of Montreuil and probably the most affluent – I was told that the further east you went, the poorer it gets.

But even with my narrow focus, I didn’t take many shots of the buildings; aside from one newly sprouted number, nothing really caught my eye. As a local resident said, the houses may cost a whole lot more than they did 10 years ago, but they’re by and large pretty unremarkable. Fairly ordinary houses made expensive by virtue of the fact that “Paris is full” and people need housing.

 

 

modern vs traditional

modern vs traditional

 

 

 

 

spots and stripes

spots and stripes

 

 

 

 

what the?

what the?

 

 

 

 

signs of an industrial past

signs of an industrial past

 

 

 

 

Part 6: To finish with, some people we met while meandering through Montreuil

Beginning with Anar, a Montreuillois who started out in life as a Mongolian.

 

 

Anar, from Mongolia to Montreuil

Anar, from Mongolia to Montreuil

 

 

 

 

Ficel and Pascale

Ficel and Pascale

 

 

 

 

is that the old shoe I used to chew?

is that the old shoe I used to chew?

 

 

 

 

at the bobo cafe

at the bobo cafe

 

 

 

 

Dominique in a past life

Dominique in a past life

 

 

 

 

brothers

brothers

 

 

 

 

touselled

touselled

 

 

 

 

In our last hour in our last suburb of Paris, Coco and I met Lorent and François. Twin brothers who have just signed with Warner Music to share their version of “rockelectrohiphopslam” with the world. It was a good way to finish things – out in the suburbs with two young men who’ve obviously got bucket loads of talent, drive and optimism about the future. Bon chance Lorent and François! May your whacky 80s inspired stars shine brightly.

 

 

rockelectrohiphopslam - Lorent and François :: 1

rockelectrohiphopslam - Lorent and François :: 1

 

 

 

 

so 80s - Lorent

so 80s - Lorent

 

 

 

 

rockelectrohiphopslam - Lorent and François :: 2

rockelectrohiphopslam - Lorent and François :: 2

 

 

 

 

The Wrap

Used to scouring every inch of a neighbourhood, I probably only covered a quarter of this super-sized suburb. But what I did manage to see I found intriguing and hard to pin down, almost enigmatic. For one thing, it’s a stone’s throw from Paris but nothing like it. No charming buildings but the most beautiful parks. And while the place can appear super quiet, even boring, beneath the surface there’s a whole lot going on, bubbling away – film, art, music, dance. Potted pointy shoes. But it ain’t no paradise; I know it can happen anywhere but Montreuil is where I was almost ‘relieved’ of my camera, in full daylight. A reminder that for many these are desperate times.

 

 

 

exhibition of 52 Suburbs, my first project, at the Museum of Sydney

exhibition of 52 Suburbs, my first project, at the Museum of Sydney in 2010

 

 

On the ‘home front’

Some big news this week.

First up, I’m thrilled to announce that the Museum of Sydney will hold a major exhibition of images from this entire project next year for four months from July – November. MOS is where I had my first exhibition of my first Sydney-based project, 52 Suburbs.

I feel incredibly lucky and grateful – MOS is one of Sydney’s best and I’m hugely honoured to be asked to exhibit there. If you don’t live in Sydney I hope you can somehow swing a trip down there to coincide with the exhibition. (Come for the opening so I can meet you!)

The other news is that instead of departing for Berlin next we are off to Rome! I was trying to ignore the fact that if I stuck to the original plan it meant we’d hit Rome in late July/August when it’s apparently melting hot and devoid of Romans. But a few Italian blog followers insisted it was madness. So I decided to switch the cities around. Apologies to those all geed up to see Berlin next but we’ll be there before you know it – in early July to be precise.

Coco and I leave Paris this week but the first post from Rome will be in two weeks time – I’m skipping a week to get some work done on my camera and to spend a few days in Rome before I start shooting to orient myself and catch my breath.

So get your espadrilles ready and we’ll see you on Monday June 4, in Roma!

Aside from all that – adieu Paris! I’m so glad I got to know you better. All these years I thought you were just all hype. Mais non! You’re a delight, warts and all.

This suburb has been brought to you by Simon Bassett

(For those who noticed, there hasn’t yet been a Coco ‘Paris shot’ like the ones we took in the other cities. We’ll do it this week before we go and include it in the next post.)

Order my first book online

Buy the 52 Suburbs Book online

Find out more about the Sydney book here

Sponsors

Advertisers

EnglishItalianChinese (Traditional)GermanFrenchHindiTurkish