
Access to architectural competitions functions a bit like the doors of the law in a Kafka tale, where entrance to the halls of justice is a virtual right of every citizen, that relentlessly runs aground before the reality of the diversionary mechanisms of bureaucracy.
The rules and regulations that govern access to competitions for certain building categories require aspiring participants to present a CV that gives details of completed works, or works under construction, in the categories afferent to the project.
![[lang_en]Design: is there life on the planet industry?[/lang_en][lang_it]Design: c’è vita sul pianeta industria?[/lang_it]](http://blog.domusweb.it/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/ddw_f1172_blog.jpg)
by Stefano Casciani
The autumn frenzy of hundreds of biennials, festivals, design weeks and weekends in Europe is about to calm down. The overall result in terms of communication is certainly positive, the progressive waves of NS (Narcissitic Supply) satisfy the gym-trained egos of designers, more or less young and more or less awaiting their turn on the cover.
What do small and medium-sized cities like Salermo, Bergamo, Caglieri, and Padova have in common with the big stars of architecture like Koolhaas, Hadid, Herzog & de Meuron, Byrne, Isozaki, van Berkel?
What they have in common are the competitions set by their respective public administrations for the construction of cool buildings, that require investment – and make claims - abnormal with respect to the budgets and proportional size of the cities.
Some people think that there are not enough competitions (or concorsi) in Italy devoted to architecture, and blame this completely for the unhappy condition of Italian architecture. In the tragicomic history of Italian concorsi, architecture competitions have in effect formed a sub-category indicative of the state of the Italian nation.
![[lang_en]A last voyage for Fernanda Pivano[/lang_en][lang_it]L'ultimo viaggio di Fernanda Pivano[/lang_it]](http://blog.domusweb.it/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/pivano_382x274.jpg)
by Stefano Casciani
In an unspecified place between Los Angeles and Mexico City, therefore along one of the many existential trajectories that cross one another in Jack Kerouac’s books, Internet communicates the cold news of Fernanda Pivano’s death on August 18 in Milan. The greatest translator and “fifth columnist” of American poetry in Italy has departed, in silence, to join her friends Corso, Ginsberg, Hemingway and Kerouac.