The central nave of Sant'Agostino becomes the spine of the exhibition, as the designer divides the space using white, geometric volumes through freestanding architectural forms that visitors can move through.
"It was in really bad shape, but I sensed its potential," he says. When his future client, a Swiss teacher who fell in love with the Italian Riviera, walked into his office, even she was skeptical. "Many people were," he continues. "It was an abandoned and damp property, but I convinced her. Now she's happy."
"We are thrilled to bring this immersive experience to New Jersey. Whether you're an art-lover, history enthusiast, or someone encountering this masterpiece for the first time, this exhibition allows you to experience Michelangelo's genius in an intimate and unforgettable way."
The drinks scene here has undergone something of a Renaissance, with the number and variety of options across the city blossoming. Of course, there are still the old school stalwarts that adhere to the traditional Italian idea of a bar-envision the quintessential all-day café-bar where you might stand at the counter for a cappuccino in the morning, grab a quick panino at lunchtime, or linger over an aperitivo after work.
The intervention 'restored the perception of the monument's original scale and pavement level,' while enabling visitors to approach the structure more directly and understand the sequence of the ambulatory and its arches. This recalibration of levels, based on archaeological findings and geometric studies, also enabled the reorganization of the stormwater drainage system, integrating surface slopes and transitions into the paving design while maintaining coherence with the monument's historical configuration.
The project examines the integration of digital fabrication processes into reinforced concrete construction, highlighting that while materials such as steel and timber have undergone significant transformation through digital production methods, reinforced concrete has largely retained conventional casting techniques. The proposal aims to address this condition by incorporating digitally fabricated components into the construction system.
At least that's the mood director Gianfranco Rosi evokes in his mesmerizing documentary Pompei: Below the Clouds, which won a Special Jury Prize at the Venice Film Festival last year and is finally being released theatrically in the U.S., ahead of a March 27 streaming premiere on Mubi. The apocalypse Rosi presents is not just the legendary one that destroyed the ancient Roman town of the film's title but an ongoing one that encompasses the calamities of our modern era as well as the rejuvenation that sometimes accompanies destruction.
The veil covering Christ is extraordinary. It's impossible to understand how Sanmartino managed to create it. The veil defies explanation—for those who can see and for those who cannot. When you touch it, you can feel the veins pulsing beneath.
Among the Pontine Islands, Palmarola emerges as an unspoiled, scenically unique land. You'll find no big luxury resorts, loud clubs, or lines of restaurants. There aren't even any paved roads, or an established electrical grid-and there's certainly limited telephone coverage, so forget working from home. However, the lack of modern amenities means less traffic and crowds.
"Piano piano" is an old Italian saying that sounds nonsensical, but is actually full of wisdom, especially if you, like me, are finding yourself wishing away these frigid winter days and hoping spring and summer gets here fast. These days, I've found myself rushing from one thing to the next, frustrated at the smallest things, from post office lines to just missing my train. And I'm ready to make a change.
Both of the cyst graves feature funerary markers reused as building material. One of them contains the partially preserved tombstone of Legio I Italica centurion Gaius Valerius Verecundus was engraved with a wreath of which only traces remain and an inscription that describes him as having been heavily pressed by fate.
What makes this canopy special isn't just that it uses 3D printing technology, though that's certainly impressive. It's the way the designers thought about the entire system. Rather than simply throwing a roof over the tombs and calling it a day, they created what's essentially a climate-control system disguised as architecture. The canopy features a double-layer envelope that does way more than keep rain off ancient stone. Built into this roof are ventilation and air extraction components that actively regulate temperature and humidity.
For the first time in nearly eight centuries, the general public was able to see the remains of one of the Catholic Church's best-known saints. The patron saint of Italy's remains have been resting in a stone sarcophagus for centuries. On Saturday, the coffin was ceremoniously transferred from the crypt to the lower church of the Basilica of St Francis of Assisi. The display will last one month and end on March 22.
In the valley of Pantalica, Italy, where more than 4,000 rock-cut tombs line the cliffs above the Anapo River, architect Leopold Banchini introduces Asympta, a temporary micro-architecture that shifts attention away from the necropolis and toward the unknown architecture of the living. Installed in Ortigia in 2025 and traveling to Pantalica in 2026 for the COSMO festival, the structure reflects on the prehistoric civilization embedded within the Syracusa-Pantalica UNESCO World Heritage landscape, proposing a speculative shelter rooted in place rather than in archaeological reconstruction.
Set on the edge of the Mediterranean and shaped by centuries of continuous occupation, Naples is a city where architecture is inseparable from time. Layers of Greek foundations, Roman infrastructures, medieval churches, Baroque palaces, and Modern interventions coexist within a dense and compact urban fabric. Naples reveals itself as an accumulation of structures, adaptations, and reuse, where buildings are rarely isolated objects and more often part of a larger spatial, social, and historical system.
Designed by the celebrated mannerist architect Giacomo Barozzi da Vignola, construction of the first sections of the late Renaissance Palazzo Borghese began in the 1560s. The Palazzo was among Vignola's many other important projects (he became the principal architect for St. Peter's Basilica following Michelangelo's death). It was later expanded by Cardinal Camillo Borghese, who bought it in 1596 (in 1605, he was named Pope Paul V).
Last summer, I found myself in Venice during peak tourist season. The crowds were suffocating. Every piazza felt like a theme park, every restaurant seemed designed for Instagram rather than actual dining. Standing on the Rialto Bridge, packed shoulder to shoulder with thousands of other visitors, I couldn't help but wonder: is this really Italy? That question stayed with me long after I returned to London.
Alexander Pope bought a villa next to the Thames in Twickenham in 1719 and, at some point shortly afterwards, decided to dig a grotto underneath the house. Atmospheric grottos were a popular folly for the rich to build, but while most are little more than small shallow spaces, Pope dug a long tunnel and two rooms deep under his house.
The remains of a monumental hall belonging to a 4th-century episcopal palace have been discovered at Ostia Antica, Rome's ancient port town. The base of the structure is eight by 20 meters (ca. 26 by 65 feet) and the walls were an estimated eight meters high. This is an extraordinarily large space, and it was richly decorated with mosaic floors and marble panels.
levelled much of the city. Along with homes, churches and monuments, invaluable historical sources and documents were lost, including works by Messina's greatest son, Antonello da Messina, the artist widely credited with transforming the course of Renaissance art. In the space of half a minute, a city's memory and that of one of the greatest painters in history was buried alongside its people.
Marciari brought me to a very different place: the luxurious, languid heat of late-summer Rome, in one of the final years of the 16th century. There, an ordinary boy has been made to hold a heavy basket of fruit for far longer than he'd like in a hot, airless studio, and a young, unknown painter is on the precipice of greatness.
An monumental early Republican-era funerary complex has been discovered in a suburb of Rome. The excavation of the Via di Pietralata east of Rome also uncovered a stretch of an ancient road, a small cult building and two monumental basins dating back to the 3rd and 2nd centuries B.C. Remains from this early in the Republican era are scarce in the Eternal City, which make these finds very archaeologically significant.
The Neptune of Lyon, one of the largest and most important bronze statues from Roman Gaul, has arrived in Rome for a one-time guest starring appearance at the Giovanni Barracco Museum of Ancient Sculpture. The statue is in the permanent collection of the Lugdunum Musee et Theatres Romains in Lyon, and is being loaned to the sculpture museum as part of an extraordinary exchange of ancient works between the two cities.