We have always believed that the redevelopment of Piazza "Madre Francesca Cabrini" in Livraga, a generic and unresolved void facing its Town Hall, could only occur through a complete redefinition of its operational logic, a critical rewriting of its margins, and, above all, the construction of architectural backdrops and scenarios that would finally articulate its persistence.
In the restoration of the area's formidable landscape systems, it was hypothesized that the heart of this small but proud town in the lower Lodi area could once again be rooted in the image of an evocative mineral clearing, carved out within a dense artificial forest. Conceptually restoring the public dimension to the countryside, to which it belonged until the late 1970s in the residual outer reaches of ancient, spontaneous lowland forests, it seemed interesting to give form here to the suggestion of an open yet finite place, embraced and protected by buildings not of stone or brick, but of trees.
A large carpet of Italian porphyry extends from north to south, restoring perfect alignments with the façade and volume of the town hall, now called upon to participate in the composition and enclose the basin of the square with a backdrop that, in this case, is actually built and inhabited.
Three planted facades and one architectural one thus create an unprecedented three-dimensional space for the site, a clear and measurable space, complete, comprehensible, and empathetic. Just as in the tradition of Italian piazzas, masterpieces of absence, rarefaction, and balance; Spatial events in which the selection of form, the tracing of boundaries, and the thickness of boundaries take on roles of emotional and symbolic significance, as well as functional necessity.
A family of 50 oak trees of three different species, planted according to a two-dimensional 7x7 metric matrix, will envelop the sunny paving space with deep, regenerating shadows. Their suspended foliage will induce the perception of sheltered green "rooms" all around; a succession of intimate yet transparent spaces, crisscrossed by paths among flowers, lawns, and shrubs of a lush, shade-loving undergrowth trained for the future twilight.
The full light of the square will find repose in the soft, shifting shadows of the urban forest, a new and desirable green lung that transforms emptiness into psychological density, tracing new "interesting distances" and inviting residents to deposit their collective sentiment here.
People will finally be able to (re)discover themselves in a square that the town—born and raised, like so many others, along a path of simple rural infrastructure—has never truly known. They will be able to share its spaces and beauty, its quiet and vitality, its colors and scents, naturally presiding over its places.
This could indeed be the first and crucial step towards rediscovering that "slow time," light and suspended, that for centuries has imbued the experience of Italian squares with a perennial sense of expectation; an almost dreamlike dimension that, looking back at history, attempts to prophesy what is to come.
The Monument to the Fallen of the First World War—currently marginalized due to the progressive urban transformations that have occurred over the course of a century—will be repositioned opposite the façade of the Town Hall, along the longitudinal axis of the square, thus establishing a new symbolic dialectical relationship between commemorative work and institutional persistence.
A lightweight pavilion will be positioned along the southern edge of the paved surface, closing the longitudinal perspective and counterbalancing the architectural "weight" of the Town Hall from a distance. The low horizontal construction, conceptually shaped as a floating roof visually permeable to the ground, will house several small neighborhood businesses (a café, a newsstand, an ice cream parlor, a florist), making a significant contribution to rebuilding a new sense of community.
Wooden seating, drinking fountains, trash bins, and bike racks punctuate the space, lending it a welcoming, domestic feel. Concrete monoliths protect the spaces from cars. An intelligent dual-level artificial lighting system (multi-projector poles and ground-level poles) ensures visitors can experience the spaces in complete safety, even in the evening hours.
Lawn and draining surfaces, freed from drastic preliminary depaving work, promote the replenishment of precipitation in the groundwater, as well as the absorption of heat during the summer months, significantly benefiting the urban microclimate.
The mineral carpet collects rainfall and channels it to an underground lamination system. Rainwater is reused to irrigate the trees, lawns, and undergrowth; only excess water, in the event of particularly intense weather events, is stored and gradually released into the network.
