Month: June 2016

Casa Malaparte

Casa  Malaparte (Villa Malaparte), built in 1938 by the Rationalist architect Adalberto Libera on Punta Massullo, eastern side of Isle of Capri, is considered to be one of the best examples of Italian modern and contemporary architecture.

Case Malaparte  is a red structure with inverted pyramid stairs leading to the roof Patio. On the roof is a freestanding curving white wall of increasing height. It sits 32 meters over a cliff on the Gulf of Salerno. It is completely isolated from civilization, only accessible by foot or by boat.

The house was commissioned by the Italian writer, Curzio Malaparte whose eccentric character eventually led him to dominate the design process, causing serious conflict with Libera. Malaparte wanted the house to reflect his own personal character and become a place for solitary contemplation and writing. Malaparte once said: “Now I live on an island, in an austere and melancholy house, which I built myself on a lonely cliff above the sea. [It is] the image of my desire.

Casa Malaparte was featured in Jean-Luc Godard‘s 1963 film, Le Mépris (Contempt).

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Photo by Francois Halard

Brigitte Bardot and Michel Piccoli in  Le Mepris

Brigitte Bardot, Jack Palance and Michel Piccoli in Le Mepris

Michel Piccoli as Paul Javal in Le Mepris

Source:

http://francoishalard.com/photography/malaparte/

http://arquiscopio.com/archivo/2012/12/08/casa-de-curzio-malaparte/

Isle of Capri’s strange and seductive Casa Malaparte

Sometimes The Sky’s Too Bright – – Dylan Thomas

Sometimes the sky’s too bright,
Or has too many clouds or birds,
And far away’s too sharp a sun
To nourish thinking of him.
Why is my hand too blunt
To cut in front of me
My horrid images for me,
Of over-fruitful smiles,
The weightless touching of the lip
I wish to know
I cannot lift, but can,
The creature with the angel’s face
Who tells me hurt,
And sees my body go
Down into misery?
No stopping. Put the smile
Where tears have come to dry.
The angel’s hurt is left;
His telling burns.

Sometimes a woman’s heart has salt,
Or too much blood;
I tear her breast,
And see the blood is mine,
Flowing from her, but mine,
And then I think
Perhaps the sky’s too bright;
And watch my hand,
But do not follow it,
And feel the pain it gives,
But do not ache.