Superstudio: Italian Radical Design

Archizoom Associati, No-Stop City, 1970. Internal Landscape. Courtesy Studio Branzi

interview by Oliver Kupper

In 1966, a flood washed over Florence, Italy. Over one hundred people died. Millions of Renaissance masterpieces, artifacts, rare books, and monuments were destroyed when the Arno overflowed and consumed the capital of Tuscany. But this was not the first time the city was overtaken by chaos and destruction. Twenty years earlier, the Nazis began a year-long occupation of the ancient Roman citadel. Allied and Axisforces shared a brutal exchange of fireand shelling that destroyed many of the buildings surrounding the famous Ponte Vecchio bridge, which was miraculously spared by Hitler himself (all the other bridges were destroyed). Out of the rubble and loam of this violent miasma came a group of radical young architects who formed avant-garde collectives and declared a philosophical war against architecture itself. Against the violence of the past. Against the barbarity of fascism. Against formality. Against history. Against rigidity and conservatism. These groups had names like Superstudio, Archizoom, Gruppo 9999, and UFO. They were more concerned with ideas than structures—building conceptual visions of new worlds rather than erecting edifices in the present. Although they only existed for a brief period, burning wild and bright and visionary, their output would leave a lasting architectural impression—later inspiring architects like Rem Koolhaas and the late Zaha Hadid. But while Florence might have been the epicenter of this new psychedelic activity, these ’superarchitettura’ groups spread across Italy—from Milan to Turin, to Naples, and Padua as highlighted in the landmark 1972 exhibitionItaly: The New Domestic Landscape at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, curated by Emilio Ambasz. The new landscapes of these radical utopians explored speculative visions of domesticity that included themes of anti-design and protests against objects as status symbols—anchors of materiality that exemplified the hubris of a hyper-consumerist, post-war society.

Superstudio, "Misura series" for Zanotta, 1970. plastic laminate with silkscreen print. Photographed in Panzano nel Chianti, Italy. Superstudio, Archive Cristiano Toraldo di Francia

Founded in 1966 in Florence, Italy by Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia, and shortly thereafter joined by Roberto and Alessandro Magris, Gian Piero Frassinelli and Alessandro Poli, Superstudio’s psychedelic universe was an attack on modernism’s inherent failures. Utilizing photo collages, films and exhibitions, their vision was utopian at its core, but also examined the anti-utopia’s of urban planning pomposity with works like The Continuous Monument(1969), which was a singular gridded monolithic structure that spanned the globe. It cuts through meadows, cities, deserts and beyond. For Superstudio, the Cartesian grid, a system of x-, y-, and z-axes to control space, became their signature. Tables, benches and storage units are sold today with this pattern. In the following pages, the only surviving member of the group, Gian Piero Frassinelli discusses the group’s ambitions and his unique input, which was deeply steeped in his fascination and studies in anthropology. This translated to a vision of humanity returning to its nomadic roots, free from the slavery of labor and consumerist desires.

OLIVER KUPPER: Why did you gravitate towards architecture and were your architectural dreams before Superstudio always so radical and utopian?

GIAN PIERO FRASSINELLI: At first, I didn't have this utopic idea when I studied architecture. It took me a bit longer than usual to finish my architectural studies—about eight years. The word ‘radical’ wasn't used until after the creation of Superstudio, Archizoom, and all the utopian groups that were born during those years. The Superstudio group was formed during some of the toughest years for the university because classes were often interrupted. First, because of the flood in 1966. And later, in 1968, because of the student strikes. Those strikes were to fight the educational system in Italy and also to support peace all around the world. We were against the Vietnam War. Also, there was a huge gap between the ideas of the students and the teachers. So, we started to search for new ways of imagining what architecture could be.

KUPPER: You got your degree in 1968 and joined Superstudio the same year. How did you join forces with Adolfo Natalini and Cristiano Toraldo di Francia who founded the group only two years before?

FRASSINELLI: I met Cristiano a few weeks before, on the street, casually. I hadn’t seen him since before the flood because I was preparing for my graduation project, and so I was spending a lot of time at home. Christiano told me about his studio that he founded with Adolfo and he told me to visit them when I graduated. After a few days, I finished my studies. When I arrived at their studio, they told me what their ideas of architecture were. At first, I didn't understand because my ideas were very different from the academic approach, but also from their point of view. But my architectural ambitions were very similar, so I decided to put my ideas aside and follow them.

KUPPER: You had an early interest in anthropology—why was that field of study important in the context of architecture?  

FRASSINELLI: To be honest, my interest in anthropology came before my interest in architecture. I found myself in the architectural world because my dad used to sell building materials. His studio was packed with architectural magazines and books. My interest in anthropology started when I was a child. I got sick in a bunker during World War II, so I stopped attending elementary school for a few years. But I was lucky because I had an aunt who was a retired teacher. She taught me a lot to make up for the years that I had lost due to my illness. She was one of the first teachers to use the Montessori method. [Maria] Montessori was an Italian professor who changed the way of teaching. And she was a very religious person, so she did a lot of missions in Africa and other places. That’s how I learned about people who were very different from me, that had a very different culture and lifestyle than mine. I was around eight years old at this time. And from my dad’s architectural magazines, I got a passion for architecture. So, after high school, I enrolled in the University of Architecture in Florence. Over the years, I kept learning more and more about anthropology. My graduation project was a study about an anthropology museum.

KUPPER: Speaking of the war years. How did the ghosts of fascism in Italy, but also Europe at-large, in post-war Florence—a city steeped in the classicism of the Renaissance—inspire you as an architect and Superstudio?

FRASSINELLI: I was born in 1939, the exact day that Hitler invaded Poland. The next year, the bombing started in Italy. The bombing first started in La Spezia, which was the city where I used to live. Every night, we heard the sirens. We had to spend most of our life in the bunkers there. We actually moved from La Spezia because our house was destroyed in the bombing. So, we moved east and arrived in an area close to the Apennine Mountains, which was the location for a lot of Nazi killings. You’ve probably heard about Marzabato, which was the location of one of the biggest Nazi massacres. We were lucky to survive. It was a miracle. So, when we arrived in Florence, it was almost the end of World War II, but a big part of the city was destroyed, and there were land mines everywhere. Seeing the destroyed architecture was really influential for me and for my architectural point of view.

KUPPER: In connection to these totalitarian regimes and architecture, most people associate the Cartesian grid with rigid structures, conservatism, staying within the lines, but Superstudio’s imagination existed way outside these lines, what did the grid represent and why was it so important?

FRASSINELLI: The grid was actually developed casually. I was working with Superstudio for a year, and I was more like a draftsman than a researcher. At one point, Adolfo and Cristiano had the idea of building the Continuous Monument. They needed someone very good at drawing perspective. I was actually hired for drawing perspective and also photo collages. Also, during my studies in high school and university, to draw perspective, I always used the Leon Battista Alberti method. Leon Battista Alberti was one of the most important architects and artists in Florence. And that method consists of dividing each volume into squares using a grid. This is also how the grid made its way into the photo collages.

KUPPER: And the grid sort of took over everything—even tables and chairs. It became a main symbol of what Superstudio did.

FRASSINELLI: With architecture, we later moved forward from the grid. For the design aspect, the grid became iconic. A lot of people requested it. And Zanotta still produces Superstudio furniture with the grid. As for the drawing, the grid was just a way to emphasize the bi-dimensional volume.

KUPPER: This Cartesian order of the natural world through dominating monuments of architecture, like The Continuous Monument, which could soon be a terrifying reality in the Saudi desert, was described by Adolfo Natalini as an “anti-utopia.” Where did Superstudio’s intuition about the terrors of architecture’s future anti-utopias come from?

FRASSINELLI: The Continuous Monument was first an idea that Adolfo and Cristiano had to connect architecture from all around the world—to connect all the architectural methods. And the grid helped to put this in order and to be more rigid. But the problem for me, because of my anthropology studies, was that it led me to think that the interior of the Continuous Monument would be terrible to live in. So, the Continuous Monument was born as a utopia but died after my talks with Adolfo and Christiano, and became an anti-utopia.

KUPPER: One of your major contributions is “The Twelve Cautionary Tales [12 Ideal Cities],” which was extremely anti-utopian. Can you talk about this?

FRASSINELLI: “The Twelve Cautionary Tales” happened during a period when Adolfo was teaching at a university in the United States, so it was just me and Christiano here in Florence, and we didn't have that much work to do. It was a better way for me to explain to Adolf and Cristiano what life would actually be like inside The Continuous Monument. I took the ideas of the other eleven cities by focusing on crowded urban places all around the world that somehow don't work. Each city, each cautionary tale, is a different thing that doesn't work in those cities. I chose the number twelve because twelve is a very important number for Western culture and literature.

Supersuperficie for 'The New Italian Land-scape' exhibition, MoMA, New York, 1972. Migrazione, screen printed plastic laminate for Abet Print, 1969. Superstudio, Archive Cristiano Toraldo di Francia

Amore. La macchina innamoratrice Collages et crayon blanc sur tirage, 60 × 80 cm © Superstudio, Archive Cristiano Toraldo di Francia

KUPPER: Film was a powerful medium for Superstudio. I'm thinking about the short thesis film made for the exhibition at MoMA, Supersurface [1972]. Can you talk about that film and the power of moving images? 

FRASSINELLI: To be honest, me and Cristiano started to make a movie during the university years with a few friends who didn't study architecture. It was about the Christian Gospels, but we had to interrupt it because we discovered that Italian director and writer, Pier Paolo Pasolini was actually preparing a movie that was about that. So, we decided not to compete with him (laughs). So then, there was another movie, which was less known. It was called Interplanetary Architecture [1972], and it was before Fundamental Acts [1972].  

KUPPER: Where did the love of film come from?

FRASSINELLI: At the time, there was no TV at home. So, the cinema was very important for all of us because it influenced our life a lot, and gave us a lot of poetic ideas. We watched the movies of Fellini, Pasolini, and Antonioni.

KUPPER: You mentioned Fundamental Acts, which explored the five fundamental acts of a person's life. It was a very poetic project. Can you talk about this series and why architecture doesn't consider the human body or experience?  

FRASSINELLI: My awareness of architecture began when I was very young, basically when I was born. I remember our first apartment in Florence after World War II. It was my first architectural experience and I was around seven years old. My family decided to visit another family that lived in the same building. When we entered this apartment, I actually saw my own apartment, but with different furniture and organized in a different way. This was a really visceral experience that was actually painful. This memory popped when I started my architectural studies. From that experience, I decided not to design a single apartment that was the same as another. Going back to my anthropological interests—in Western society, we have this concept of apartments and buildings that are very homogeneous, but in other societies and cultures, all the buildings are different from each other. 

KUPPER: So, it's important to consider a person's life and bring humanity back into architecture.

FRASSINELLI: It's probably because of the humanity in architecture that I was always inspired and interested in anthropology. A lot of architects actually ask me what anthropology has in common with architecture and why it is necessary to architecture. And my answer is always: all the architecture is lived in by humans.

 KUPPER: Nomadism and nomadic society is an important part of Superstudio’s architecture ambitions and it is also related to anthropology. Humans used to be nomads and there are still a few nomadic societies out there.

FRASSINELLI: Nomadism is the other face of architecture because it's actually life without architecture. In Western society, we have this obsession with work. In nomadic society, they would work just five or six hours a day to find food, and the rest of the time is just to enjoy their own life, which is talking to each other, learning different things or spending free time with each other.

KUPPER: On the other side of it, now with global warming and war, we have people who are forced to enter a nomadic lifestyle. Climate refugees they are called. How do you think architecture could rectify that, or build a better future for people forced to become nomads?

FRASSINELLI: There are a few people trying to do that, but it's very difficult right now because the architectural world operates on a purely economic basis. There has always been a war between those who are richer and those who are poorer. Right now, there are more than a billion people not living properly all around the world, and the hope that I have is that we will try to help the people who are forced to be nomadic. This is separate to nomadic societies, because these societies can actually offer us a closer look at how humans can live in better harmony with nature.

KUPPER: What is your advice to young architects today with utopian visions of the future?  

FRASSINELLI: Young architects are the first to be in a prison of their own culture. My advice is to really change the structure of the society where you live, because otherwise, there's no chance to survive.

Supersuperficie for 'The New Italian Land-scape' exhibition, MoMA, New York, 1972. Migrazione, screen printed plastic laminate for Abet Print, 1969. Superstudio, Archive Cristiano Toraldo di Francia

Amore. La macchina innamoratrice Collages et crayon blanc sur tirage, 60 × 80 cm © Superstudio, Archive Cristiano Toraldo di Francia

Archizoom: Italian Radical Design

Archizoom Associates, Florence, 1968. Members of the Archizoom group in front of the original headquarters in Via Ricorboli 5 in Florence. In order: Paolo Deganello, Lucia Bartolini, Gilnerto Corretti, [Natalino], Massimo Morozzi, Dario Bartolini and Andrea Branzi. Courtesy Studio Branzi

interview by Francesca Balena Arista

Archizoom Associati was founded in 1966 by Andrea Branzi, Gilberto Corretti, Paolo Deganello, and Massimo Morozzi. They would later be joined by designers Dario Bartolini and Lucia Bartolini. Deeply philosophical and metaphysical in their architectural investigations, Archizoom's major contribution was No-Stop City, an imaginary, always evolving, never-ending future city that utilized the power of technology for a non-hermetic, decentralized metropolis that met all its citizens' needs. In the following interview, architect and design scholar Francesca Balena Arista asks founder Andrea Branzi about his visions of these new urban environments.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: Within the general concept of utopia, you have maintained that your work was about a realistic utopia.

ANDREA BRANZI: Yes, I have always attached great importance to the intellectual history of transformations, being a philosophical, non-political process in history. That is, I have always considered the transformation of land as a philosophical concept, a slow transformation derived from theoretical thought. “Non-Stop City,” for example, is the presentation, the vision, of a territory that is altered over time, but lacks the unity of utopia.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: How do you define the project of “Non-Stop City?” What was its value at the time it was conceived and what is, even today, its importance and influence on the design world?

ANDREA BRANZI: This type of transformation from a real project to a philosophical adaptation regarding the absence of real history, where the city no longer has a traditional sense of history, but rather a slow continuous evolution, was derived from the work of other radical Florentine architects. It is the idea of a continuous, never-ending story that has no limit, a city without architecture where everything flows without ever stopping. This is the concept of “Non-Stop City.” The name anticipates the thought behind the project, yet it never ends. This is an integral condition of contemporary culture where there is never a final closure to the project.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: Let's take a step back to the birth of the name Archizoom. Is there anyone in particular among the group who thought of this name and what is its origin? What is the meaning?

ANDREA BRANZI: Before us, there was an English group called Archigram that was very important and very pop, but devoid of any political components—a very different position from ours at that time. Our political formations dates back to 1962, when we participated in student movements, especially the one led by Claudio Greppi, “Lega Studenti Architetti” [student architects league]. This experience was crucial to us, as it was through them that we obtained information about the emerging political philosophers. This allowed the birth of the Radical Movement in Florence. A large number of avant-garde groups were born: there were Superstudio, Ziggurat, Gruppo 9999, UFO, and more. It was a generation of Florentine architects who surprised the avant-garde magazines and publications. It was a pivotal moment. That was when the first Japanese groups arrived, trying to find out what was happening in Florence, Milan, and so on. Arata Isozaki came to Florence. There was a whole international movement around these avant-garde groups.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: The Florentine climate, when radical architecture was created and the first groups, Archizoom and Superstudio, were born, was deeply political, even if there were differences within the various groups. I am reminded of the Superarchitettura exhibition. You have always talked about this installation as a seminal moment. What is the meaning of Superarchitettura?

ANDREA BRANZI: Superarchitettura took place in Pistoia in 1966, in a sort of city center that actually sold fish, not art, but the first avant-garde works came out from there, that’s where we first discovered The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. It was a breeding ground for movements, something very different from the past generations. Florence has always been a historic city where the avant-garde did not exist. So, the idea of realizing a new modernity there allowed the birth of a phenomenon that was completely unexpected.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: And the flooding in Florence, in 1966? Did it have any repercussions on your view of the historic city?

ANDREA BRANZI: Certainly, the Florence flood was a striking phenomenon. The whole city was submerged in water and the monuments were devastated. However, it was like the end of an era, and the beginning of something new. It was like Pompeii; after its destruction a new civilization was born. The flood marked the beginning of a culturally different era.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: Let's talk about another vital moment that was recognized by the entire Italian design world, namely Emilio Ambasz's exhibition at MOMA, Italy the new domestic landscape (1972), which saw the presence of both avant-garde groups and what we can consider representatives of a more traditional thinking. What did it mean for you?

ANDREA BRANZI: It allowed us to bring together at least three avant-garde groups and some great professional designers, there were Ettore Sottsass, Gae Aulenti, Vico Magistretti, and many others. Italy presented itself through this exhibition as a land in which new things and new ideas were being born. After that exhibition, it had to be seen that the mass production industries, which were very powerful at the time, were going into crisis. Therefore, they began to experiment with craft movements, new languages and colors, new functions. The new Italian design movement was born, groups that were moving with very different logic, the Memphis Group for example. There was no longer the idea of mass production, but rather, the production of small series, of great expressiveness. It was a very important historical period that had a major influence throughout Europe and in Japan. It was a seemingly unpredictable, radical change that responded to new questions of industrial and craft production aimed at small experimental territories.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: Years later, in response to the exhibition, Emilio Ambasz said, "Design is not only the product of creative intelligence, but an exercise in critical imagination."

Archizoom Associati Mies chair, Poltronova Italy, 1969 chrome-plated steel, rubber, upholstery 30 h × 29 w × 51½ d in (76 × 74 × 131 cm)Courtesy Studio Branzi

ANDREA BRANZI: Yes absolutely, design is not exclusively related to the market. Behind these vanguards was a new philosophy. Just remember the early examples of "Domestic Animals,” the idea of using natural materials that change over time, like tree branches that somehow become a part of a perennially diverse series. It's a philosophy whereby objects are no longer reproduced serially but change over time. It's a totally different conceptual view that changed the course of design history.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: In Florence, in the radical design years, how did you envision the future? What came true, and what didn't? An important component of radical design was prediction and the will to propose something new for the future.

ANDREA BRANZI: All this happened following unforeseen conditions. When we came together, we were looking for our own name. I called the art critic Germano Celant and asked him what might be a suitable name for these Florentine movements. The next day, he called me and told me that the appropriate name was ‘radical,' which is different from the Italian ‘radicale.' It is a much broader concept, like ‘liberal’ to ‘liberale.’ We were not exactly aware of what was going on, at least the four of us—me, Paolo Deganello, Gilberto Corretti, and Massimo Morozzi. We constituted ourselves as a "leading" group and it came naturally. We managed to get four “30 e lode” [A’s] on the same day at the university. This surprised the whole town and spread to the others. We initiated a kind of autonomy within the university and schools in philosophical and creative thinking. This is the Radical legacy.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: What would you recommend to young people today who want to think and dream of a radical future?

ANDREA BRANZI: I see that young Italian designers these days are making overtly hostile objects. They adopt new, unpredictable languages, which are not easily marketable. They sure have a vitality that surprises me greatly, and I think can change the rules of Italian design. There is always a kind of leading position in Italian design...I don't really know what German designers, American designers, or French designers are doing, I'm very curious to see what will happen there, and in other countries, though.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: In this sense, you said that you have your own vision of utopia. What is the value of utopia for you, the value of critical thinking, and the value of going beyond what society offers us? When I think of the objects designed by Archizoom, I see them as "breaking" objects in the history of design. What did you want to convey to others?

ANDREA BRANZI: Not everything was clear in what we were doing. Things were happening that were "typical" and inherent to the concept of the new generation, and to work that follows non-traditional logic. The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, like other bands of the time, were not born in music schools, but in contexts where everything was happening in unplanned ways. There was no definite agenda or policy. The same goes for fashion: its future envisions something different from what the public expects. Fashion is now saturated with languages and quotations, so it has to turn to new and unpredictable figures.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: It seems like you are describing what you did after graduating from architecture school. It was clear that your Superarchitettura had different references than the traditional ones as you were inspired by pop art and those rock groups you mentioned.

ANDREA BRANZI: Certainly, and that still applies. Nothing is accomplished; everything is open to be revised in radical and profoundly different ways. I used the term ‘radical' in a book in which I describe the history of the movement, "Una generazione esagerata” [An exaggerated generation]. Our creativity was not controllable, and it is the same today. There is still so much empty space to invent new languages, colors, and forms.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: I am reminded of the first article in Domus in which Ettore Sottsass introduces the radical groups by describing the objects being made as "Trojan Horses" in our homes, as if they have the power to influence people's behavior.

ANDREA BRANZI: Yes, the idea was to make unpredictable objects, which can betray the classic expectation, surprising those who have them.

(Francesco shows Andrea some new drawings of naked women wearing what looks like thin strips of cloth)

You see, there is so much empty space to invent new images, and new thoughts. It is nothing gross. In fact, we could almost say it is sacred and ancient. Nudity is not something to be afraid of, but rather a place to imagine new elegance and new sacredness. Yesterday, I made these drawings … they surprised and fascinated me. They make me think of a new sacred fashion, not a vulgar one.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: Right now, you have an exhibition in New York, Contemporary DNA, at Friedman Benda Gallery. What is it about? What was the thinking behind this new exhibition?

ANDREA BRANZI: In this exhibition I show decorated bamboo canes, chairs, and maritime woods. The combination of these elements creates a completely unpredictable situation, which has nothing in common with serial production.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: It reminds me of one of your first works in the ‘80s, Animali Domestici.

ANDREA BRANZI: Animali Domestici was also done because Memphis and Studio Alchimia were at the end. They no longer had communication power. The idea of making objects, composed of tree trunks that joined together in ever changing ways, the idea of the diversified series, interested me a lot. I understood and interpreted what was previously just an idea. At first, I didn't really understand what I was doing. This was quite typical of my way of working, but also how other group members worked. We moved forward and then asked ourselves what we had done, and what it meant. I often create images that only then make sense. “Non-Stop City,” for example, was born by chance with my friends. We had no guiding idea. It was, rather, a philosophical thought about the continuous and unlimited extension of the urban territory.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: In the ‘70s you imagined the city as a flow of goods and information. It was a strongly anticipatory thought.

ANDREA BRANZI: Yes. When we started drawing, we didn't know what we were doing, yet all four of us knew we were doing something absolutely indispensable. We discussed, trying to interpret our drawings, and only then the idea of this city without architecture emerged, a city that never ends, without perimeter, which extends in thought, like a philosophical discovery. It is always very difficult to explain. This often happens to artists and painters though, doing things that you are not fully aware of.

FRANCESCA BALENA ARISTA: What importance do you attach to nature? You often include natural elements in your projects, following the idea of the diversified series, which seems to be for you an enrichment of the design world.

ANDREA BRANZI: Surely it is. I am not an environmentalist; I do not belong to the school of ecology. Of course, it must be noted that the industries continue to produce cars relentlessly. Perhaps we should do as in Japan and let them pass through the tunnels. There are many things to understand and I don't always understand what I do.

Archizoom Associati, The Four Beds,Institut d’art Contemporain Villeurbanne/Rhône Alpes in Lyon, 1967Courtesy Studio Branzi