Always Look Up

Life seems to grow busier by the day. With constant distractions—from ads interrupting your yoga sessions on Youtube to the countless billboards and street signs—it’s easy to become a little numb to our surroundings.

I’m writing this to remind you (and definitely myself) to keep your eyes open to beauty. Be curious, wherever you are, and allow yourself to be surprised by something unexpectedly beautiful.

Recently, I travelled to Italy. As always, my ambitions were high, and I intended to see everything there was to see. Our travels started in Milan, and eight days later, we reached Florence, exhausted.

We were staying in a lovely old apartment in the neighbourhood of Coverciano. The apartment had once belonged to an elderly lady who, sadly, had passed away. Her family kept the apartment exactly as it was, renting it out to travellers. Her antique furniture was retained and the cookware in the kitchen was had belonged to her too. It felt like coming home to your granny’s place. It was perfect.

After offloading our belongings, my husband and I began our walk to the city centre, ready for the Uffizi and the Accademia museums. We were so preoccupied with planning our day—figuring out our budget and scouting for the next gelato stop—that we weren’t paying attention to much else. Silly, considering that we were in my favourite city in the world. But, by some small miracle, we stopped and looked up.

Standing before us was one of the most spectacular apartment buildings I had ever seen. I didn’t know it existed, nor did I know who the architect was, but the universe had allowed me to stop right there and look up.

The architect of this building was Leonardo Savioli, born in 1917, one of the most significant Florentine architects of the 20th century. Savioli was an architect, urban planner, painter, and illustrator. His passion for art deeply influenced his architectural work, showcasing modern designs that resonate with the vernacular traditions of Tuscany. Savioli was a key figure in the "Tuscan School," a group of architects dedicated to infusing modernism into the region’s built environment.

After standing dumbfounded for a moment, we moved closer to the building. The details were exquisite. Despite its scale and brutalist nature, the detailing of this building has been handled with exceptional love and care. It is so thoughtfully put together, the composition so carefully crafted, presenting a sense of perfect harmony. This building showcases Savioli’s vision of a structure associated with rawness and austerity, yet still producing a sense of welcome and beauty. I immediately started fantasising about coming home after a long day at work and moving up those carefully designed stairs that connect you to the city and welcome you home ever so warmly.

The building at Via Piagentina was completed in 1967 for the Bacci family. It is a significant example of Florentine architecture from the 20th century. A brutalist structure, constructed of prefabricated and modular concrete elements, it is imposing yet sensitive. The clever use of rounded edges, complemented by warm timber details and the rhythm created by the repetition of small, human-scale windows, seems to come together so naturally.

This humble giant—large in stature but never shouting for attention—sits on a corner, gently leading you off the street with three rounded steps. Despite its striking difference from the surrounding structures, it softly watches over the street. This sensitivity is a rare quality in brutalist architecture, which often dominates its environment with a sense of overpowering presence. Here, Savioli carefully balances the building’s vertical volumes and mass, breaking up the form. Each volume, with varying heights, creates a harmonious relationship between solids and voids. The tallest volume, the central tower, is almost fortress-like with its minimal windows, evoking a sense of strength reminiscent of medieval Florentine tower houses.

The materials themselves tell a story of contrasts and complements. The exposed concrete, which can often be austere and harsh, is softened with rounded corners. This subtle curvature gives the structure a sense of continuity and unity, drawing the eye across its surfaces. The balconies, windows, and louvers are distributed unevenly, yet thoughtfully, across the façade, each with its own size and shape, adding to the building’s unique character.

The roof is immediately reminiscent of Le Corbusier’s Ronchamp Chapel (Notre-Dame du Haut), which was completed 13 years earlier in 1954. Savioli was clearly inspired by the chapel’s projecting canopy, and this nod to one of Modernism’s greats demonstrates his ability to blend influences while creating something distinctly his own.

Savioli’s approach to design was deeply influenced by his work as an artist. His architectural process was characterised by iterative drawing, ranging from intuitive sketches to meticulously constructed plans. This method allowed Savioli to produce buildings that, while highly rationalised, exuded a whimsical character. He balanced strength and distinct identity with playful individuality and a keen sensitivity to human scale, resulting in structures that are as much works of art as they are functional living spaces.

I was moved and inspired after spending time with this building. It is an outstanding piece of design—recognisable, original, and deeply rooted in the architectural history of Florence. More than just a structure, it serves as a dialogue between past and present, a physical manifestation of Florence’s evolution through the eyes of a master architect, but also a home to multiple families. I am reminded of how important it is to stay curious and motivated as a designer, and to not give up on pursuing the ideas I truly believe in.

Christopher Alexander writes in The Timeless Way of Building: “Those of us who have been trained as architects have this desire perhaps at the very centre of our lives: that one day, somewhere, somehow, we shall build one building which is wonderful, beautiful, breathtaking, a place where people can walk and dream for centuries. “

This underscores the deep connection between architecture and daily life. Buildings, even those that seem ordinary, have the power to influence our emotions and experiences. They are the backdrop to our lives. As architects, we have a responsibility to craft spaces that go beyond the ordinary—spaces that elevate and inspire. Each building is a unique opportunity to make a lasting, positive impact on the lives of those who encounter it.

So, remember to always look up.