How can formal inversions of negative space alleviate existing pathological tension between monuments which oscillate between monumentality and mundanity

“The City of course is not the mind, it cannot contain everything all at once, it can only exist in a certain time/ moment in time” -Adrian Forty, 1999 Yet, Milan, brimming with richness and a tapestry of diverse histories, bears the weight of its fragmented past. Although these threads cannot exist simultaneously, they manifest themselves as scattered remnants, on display for all to witness. As we traverse the streets and narrow alleyways of Milan, we become transient witnesses, we notice and we forget.

Within the vast expanse of the urban landscape, the cyclical process of appreciation and rejuvenation finds its focal point in the mundane objects that populate the vibrant tapestry of everyday life - a Flea Market. This microcosm symbolises Milan, where we, as “walkers”, play the role of observers, beholding artefacts that have lost their inherent value, patiently awaiting a chance to be reimagined and repurposed by the touch of another.

In this realm of forgetten treasures, it is the everyday people who hold the power to infuse these relics with newfound purpose once again, breathing life into the forgotten narratives of the city’s past. The city thrives from the process of people’s engagement with everyday practices and rituals that manifest a sense of collective memories and values. Nevertheless, these are subject to change over time, eliciting the societal inclination to preserve them. That which is collective is therefore ingrained within the urban fabric by means of erecting monuments, whose grandeur serves to symbolise, display, and legitimise the memories and values for future generations to inherit. The contrast between the persistence of monuments across time and the ephemerality of the everyday practices and rituals is at the heart of the monument’s distinctiveness. Yet, as time passes, a monument may become exceedingly ubiquitous and commonplace, becoming a backdrop to the everyday leading to a general apathy towards its intended grandeur.

How does the process of the monument becoming excessively familiar impact the grandeur of its architecture, and what are the resulting implications? While the monument to some extent represents facets of the everyday, does it still belong to the realm of the everyday? Can a monument continue to be regarded as such once it is assimilated back into the fabric of everyday life, or does this assimilation nullify its grandeur?