Matteo Fraschini

How did your story begin?
As an architect, I have always been fascinated by the relationship between construction and the ground. By living in and inhabiting nature in order to transform it into “place,” human beings leave traces that testify to a process of continuous modification—one that I seek to interpret as dialogue rather than opposition: not a struggle between present and past, nor a conflict between humanity and nature which, unfortunately, today seems destined for a dramatic outcome.
I consider the Masterplan for Euroflora to be a moment of synthesis within my research. It was a project that engaged me for more than two years, alternating formal investigation with technical and construction-related challenges. Later, I felt the need for something more intimate and perhaps deeper. I therefore began reworking concepts and structures in a freer form, exploring the possibilities offered by a small 3D printer. And from there, perhaps completing a circle, I returned to reflecting on a theme that has always been fundamental to me: the relationship between form and its image.
Orticolario gave me the opportunity to present this reflection as both narrative and dialogue through an installation. It felt natural to extend the perceptual dimension of the installation into a musical plane. I therefore invited Simone, whom I have known for many years and with whom I have already collaborated on projects exploring the relationship between architecture and music, to join me in this adventure.

How does nature inspire your projects and lifestyle?
As an Italian, a European, and a Mediterranean, there are many places from which one can learn. However, having lived in South Africa for several years, I also came to know a powerful nature capable of almost overwhelming you. The experience of travelling across vast expanses where the only human trace visible on the horizon is the gravel road beneath your feet challenged many of my certainties.
The emotion of standing at the Cape of Good Hope, on that rocky promontory where two oceans meet, will remain forever etched in my memory.

Who are the people who have most inspired you artistically and professionally?
There are many, I would say. Among architects, certainly Filippo Brunelleschi: a true revolutionary capable of uniting vision and technique, understood as the knowledge of how to make things. Then, perhaps, Guarino Guarini even more than Borromini. Having recently visited his churches in Turin, it is remarkable to observe how his complex geometries function as “transparent” devices for guiding sunlight into architectural space.
Looking at the contemporary context, I am undoubtedly connected to figures such as Peter Eisenman, Rem Koolhaas, and Frank O. Gehry. Gehry, in particular, was able to develop software that translated a physical model made of folded cardboard into architecture. In a sense, just as perspective was for Brunelleschi, he created a tool for “interpreting” the world.
Equally fundamental was my doctoral supervisor, Ernesto d’Alfonso, who guided me through a dialogue spanning more than twenty years, helping me understand and develop the ideas we are discussing.
And finally, my father, an engineer, who used to tell me the story of the Odyssey by drawing it in a small notebook, always reminding me that drawing is, first and foremost, a way of knowing.