The Church of Saint Augustine is one of the most impressive religious structures in Piacenza. Its architectural layout comprises five naves, a transept with three naves, and a presbyterial area featuring an ambulatory. Making it a challenging canvas for any type of architectural intervention, even if temporary and ephemeral. Confronting such a sacred edifice naturally elicits trepidation, particularly when considering its historical significance and meticulous typological design. Nevertheless, working with such a structure incites reflections that can initiate broader discussions about the nature of interventions in our architectural heritage.

The church exemplifies how a building designed to stand for eternity can lead multiple lives, be repurposed in numerous ways, and effectively be sustainable due to its longevity and adaptability. Commenced in 1570 and consecrated in 1573, it was concurrently serving as a military hospital toward the late 18th century. In the subsequent century, it became an integral part of the General Cantore barracks and sustained damage during World War II. Today it houses the permanent Volumnia gallery that includes a restaurant in its annexes, and biennially hosts the DucatoPrize exhibition. In essence, it serves as an exceptional testament to its capacity to accommodate change harmoniously, without sacrificing its inherent character.

Another intriguing aspect apparent when visiting the church is the decapitation of all its statues by Napoleon's troops during the French invasion of 1796, a deliberate affront to ecclesiastical institutions. It represents a kind of cancel culture ante litteram, which, as Michele Serra argued in one of his "Amache" columns for the newspaper Repubblica on December 31, 2021: «It unintentionally elevated the place of ordinary worship and ordinary beauty to solemn and dramatic heights. [...] The headless statues loom like a crowd of witnesses (martyrs) to the ideological violence of every era, rendering the place magnificent even in the wake of that sinister manipulation».

Typological considerations, historical curiosities, and spatial generosity represent the best outcomes one can anticipate from a professional assignment. In our case, complexity arises from the task of accommodating an exhibition of contemporary art featuring ten diverse installations - encompassing spatial, pictorial, sonic, video projections, and sculptures - divided into two competition categories. In an effort to suggest a structured path while preserving the individuality of each work, we made the deliberate choice to restrict access to the central nave, encouraging visitors to navigate the periphery of the church along the side naves and transept. This spatial compression on the sides and the exclusion of the central volume - inaccessible and only visible from the rear of the transept - momentarily alters the flow and spatial perception of the interior environment. This approach seeks to establish a dimension of dialogue and interaction between the exhibition and the existing decorative elements, without either overpowering the other.

The installation sets an internal horizon at approximately three and a half meters in height, lowering the viewer's perspective and aligning the human scale of the artworks with that of the monumental church. To achieve this effect, we employed just two materials: stretch film made of polyethylene, a white packaging film, and lightweight aerated concrete building blocks. Using the columns and pillars as anchor points, we used the film to enclose unused spaces, creating ten rooms between the naves to house the artworks. When necessary, the blocks were assembled into plinths, platforms, monomaterial and stereometric partitions to support the artworks. The choice of materials was driven by multiple considerations, including those related to the exhibition and sustainability. Preparing the exhibition required only five working days with the assistance of two specialized installers. During the disassembly phase, two days will suffice to recover the film, dismantle the block-based structures, and return them to the manufacturer. Both materials will undergo complete recycling and reintegration into the production cycle at the end of their life cycle.

For a long time, museology has grappled with the best approach to showcase artworks within museum spaces. For centuries, architects favored creating "white boxes" - immaculate spaces with neutral walls and diffuse zenithal lighting. In recent decades, attempts have been made to challenge this model, often reflecting architects' frustration with the perceived limitations of not having complete design freedom and the inability to infuse sufficient "creativity" into their projects. As is often the case, the truth resides somewhere in between and doesn't always align with the latest trends. In our experience, artists typically appreciate some level of isolation from their surroundings, irrespective of the exhibition space. Still, complete immersion in a pristine void can be disconcerting. Our quest for equilibrium coupled with our aspiration to encourage a more intimate perception of both the sacred space and the artworks on display, underpinned this project. We hope that it reaffirms the notion that being lightweight doesn't equate to being insubstantial and that significant achievements can result from modest means.