Loft Life

Often, to better understand a place, it helps to know a bit about its history. This is true of Milan, a city that - before becoming the driving force of Italy’s economy - was at the center of urban and social experimentation. Its present sprang directly from those roots. Scrolling through the census data, one is struck by the steep increase in population between the 19th and 20th centuries. A mere 354,045 in 1881, by 1936 it had tripled to 1,115,794. Modern Milan was shaped during those 50 years.
Milan, 1886, the ribbon was cut on the first power plant in Europe. Industry rapidly expanded. Workers arrived from all over Italy; buildings were built to house them; the city limits swelled beyond their boundaries. Factories sprouted in what where once agricultural fields, like the structure that contains the home on these pages. Built as a shoe factory in 1911, the same year in which Umberto Boccioni painted one of the masterpieces of Futurism: La città che sale (The City Rises). It was no coincidence that Futurism had originated in Milan just two years earlier. It was the dawn of the Industrial Age and this down-to-earth, unadorned building - designed for manufacturing - was part and parcel of the new urban landscape and helped craft its revolutionary aesthetic.
With time, having outlived its industrial purpose, the factory changed its image. It became home to laboratories and workshops and, in the 1950s, acquired some additional square footage. And, here we are today. Unlike a century ago, the Porta Romana district, where the building is located, is no longer on the city’s fringe. Far from it. And, with the loft concept, modern design aesthetics have brought new meaning to old industrial buildings. Thus began a design and development project by Mingotti Giordano Architetti in Milan. Their first decision was to remove the post-war additions and restore the courtyard and trellis at the entrance. Once the original appearance of the envelope had been reclaimed, attention moved to the interior spaces. The brick perimeter wall was painstakingly restored, as was the concrete flooring. The load-bearing structures retained their original finishes and were covered with a single coat of protective resin. The sawtooth roof was restored to its full functionality and the windows cleaned.
The style decision is crystal clear - transform the way in which the space is used (no longer industrial but everyday home life) while maintaining its original spirit. Adding a touch of sophistication it had never before experienced. The concrete floors were warmed up with rugs; the vertical daytime overhead light from the sawtooth windows was supplemented with strip LEDs hidden behind furniture and in the details of the architectural shell. The need to create separate, more intimate spaces for rooms with specific functions (bedrooms, bath) was brilliantly solved by creating a “box”, paneled in Canaletto walnut - a luxurious wood that adds warmth and contrasts pleasantly with the aesthetic roughness of the industrial walls.
From here on, the adventure became increasingly sophisticated. If the pillars kept their old original enamel and the baseboards remained grey, the bathroom was clad in Verde Alpi marble. And, alongside this new micro-architecture, the kitchen island was crafted from a bar reclaimed from a 1950s bistro. The idea of creating a space within a space where all the domestic necessities were clustered allowed the rest of the space to be free, as if it were a large open-plan living room devoted entirely to relaxation and entertaining. This is one of the truly fascinating aspects of this atypical space, where its imposing size and the absence of structural embellishments grant a certain freedom in the combination of styles and periods that anywhere else would be much more difficult. If not impossible.
On their website, the architects quote a phrase by Renzo Mongiardino: “The house is not an invention, it is always the same shelter that man needs because he is tired, because he is hungry, because he has to sleep”. Striking words, when you think that Mongiardino was, also and above all, a scenographer. And here he speaks of basic needs. This is no coincidence. All of Mongiardino’s work, and also this project, begins with the essentials and then dresses them in the clothing of inspiration, daring to make possibly unorthodox contrasts and combinations. Thus, creating a setting in which living has a distinctive flavor. And becomes the experience of a lifetime.