maria terzano, J. director
marco magliozzi, j. editor

The past can be read from two different perspectives, as something that is no longer present or as something that can return. This second interpretation is what we would like to highlight here. The past as being-been [6], past participle of the verb to be, means understanding the past in a positive sense, as something that can be evoked and return to our days. In the application of the circular economy to architecture, however, this does not mean bringing the past back to life, but rather transforming or regenerating what has come to us from the past and which, having achieved some value, cannot be discarded. 

However, not all buildings survive to the challenge of time, but those that do survive will stand as testimony. However, this does not mean that the city are merely storage containers for accumulated memories, i.e. testimonies, although the presence of the testimonies interacts actively with the dynamic change of the city itself. This relationship can certainly be expressed in different manners: testimony can remain isolated from the urban context, but can also be fully absorbed or transformed to interact with the contemporary environment. As an example, considering the countless monuments that still maintain their own function or not, that still play a dominant role in the life of the city, or even the multitude of historical buildings that still continue to be adapted to the most contemporary urban needs. Certainly each of these operations is linked to the permanence of the testimony, but if everything becomes cyclical and everything is regenerated, if at the same time we consider the memory linked to something physical, if then it dies or is transformed, what is the testimony that this element brings with it? 

The presence of the built object, that is something that lasts over time because it has been assigned an intrinsic value, is easily recognisable as testimony. Permanence, therefore, i.e. visible testimony, having overcome the challenge with time, represents the active physical expression of our memory. But what happens when this tangible element is missing? Can we still speak of testimony? If architecture is immanent, how can it leave a trace of its passage? Certainly, these questions are not the only ones that arise regarding the generation of a testimony. 

The matter, in fact, is not only manifest through presence or absence, but can also experience a transformation as time passes. If, therefore, we propose a cyclical vision of time, then the transformative and evolutive process of the architectural object becomes itself generative of memory. This ability of altering itself thus raises important questions about what the real identity of a testimony is: as it changes over time, does a building keep its identity unchanged or does it change together with its physical expression? What happens to the identity of the testimony when its material changes? 

Questioning its identity opens the way to another controversial issue, concerning what is truly authentic. Matter and time have certainly been the protagonists of this issue and, even today, a passionate debate on what and how a testimony should be preserved (from the Latin serbatum cum, to take with us) and how to guarantee its authenticity (from the Greek autòs and entòs, meaning that it is itself in its interiority) is still ongoing. 

Moreover, while architecture has always mirrored the society in which it was conceived, it also carries the alteration not only of time but also of the posthumous societies that have permeated it. Architecture, the result of social, economic, ethnological and temporal conditions, is therefore conceived as a complex, un-finished organism, impossible to analyse as an isolated entity. If it is true that “its influence can continue even when its original environment has altered or disappeared” and that architecture “can extend its radiance beyond the period in which it was born, beyond the social class that built it; beyond the style to which it belongs” [7], then it is precisely in relation to the new sustainable development models that we must ask ourselves what and how the testimonies we will leave to the future generations will be. If, in fact, this model suggests us to use materials that are potentially reusable and, consequently, do not aim to remain tied to the original architectural apparatus, what will we take with us in the near future? So by modifying a building in its constituent parts or in its built substance, how will its authenticity be affected?

From the perspective of a circular economic model, highlighting the critical aspects that certainly emerge when the life cycle is “unfinished”, which regenerates in new forms and as many other dynamics, many questions therefore arise. It seems to us, then, that this economic and social paradigm, which proposes itself as a model of life and development for the future, must also ask itself what kind of sign it leaves on the culture and society in which it operates or could operate. Considering architecture as just one of the many aspects that this model proposes to affect, as well as the complex society in which this will happen, we therefore wonder which will be the territories of tomorrow that will host the “new” testimonies shaped by this new economic system.

If in fact the circular economy is based on the concept of nature’s cyclical pattern, will we be ready in the future to see our cities and territories transformed at each change of season?

[6] Bodei, R. Introduzione. L’arcipelago e gli abissi. In: Ricoeur, Paul. Ricordare, dimenticare, perdonare. L’enigma del passato. Bologna: Il Mulino 2004, pag.VII, (trad. M.Terzano, M.Magliozzi)
[7] Giedion, S. (1984) Spazio, tempo e architettura, Milano: Hoepli Editore, pg. 20, (trad. M.Terzano, M.Magliozzi)