“Denn das Schöne ist nichts als des Schrecklichen Anfang, den wir noch grade ertragen, und wir bewundern es so, weil es gelassen verschmäht, uns zu zerstören.” R.M. Rilke, Die erste Duineser Elegie
“For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, that we are still able to bear, and we revere it so, because it calmly disdains to destroy us.” R.M.Rilke, The First Elegy
Hundreds of complex buildings collapse little by little in front of our eyes, awakening ambivalent feelings; mixing the strange beauty that the decadence shows with the sadness and dismay arising from the inevitable impermanence of the things.
It is as if they were the frames of an old movie never shown, or maybe the last scenes of an unrealistic and naive optimism, the fate of abandoned places teaches us that we are all doomed to be a memory and then to be forgotten.
Who could remain impassive in the presence of a place in ruins? Who doesn’t see in them his own inescapable future?
There is a clear relationship between abandoned places and melancholy: the irreversible time and the idea that everything dies.