Introduction
Helen Geng Haizhen
“If music is the art of sound, then architecture is the art of light. The structure of a building is not merely a tool for construction but a means of creating architecture. If light is the material of architecture, its reflection, like sound in music, is an element of spatial and rhythmic measurement, just as the rhythm of light and shadow reflects the rhythm of architecture.” — A. Cardillo
The young and talented impressionist architect Antonino Cardillo skilfully employs complex metaphors and symbolic techniques, merging architectural language with sculptural forms. Cardillo’s architectural masses are immense, as if hailing from distant lands and ancient civilisations, beautiful yet rebellious, generous, and fervent, with a profound and stirring rhythm. The fleeting interplay of light and shadow bestows the architecture with ever-changing appearances, as if engaging in a profound soul-revealing confrontation, bursting forth with awe-inspiring beauty and contradictions, resulting in a stable harmony. The architectural structure—like the contorted dance of limbs—precisely captures and affirms the play of light and shadow. His architecture resembles a flamenco dance embedded in stone. He is acclaimed as one of the greatest geniuses globally, one of the most prominent architects of our time. He studies his architecture with a steadfast ethic and artistic cohesion. He designs spaces as if composing music. He is an artist: his architecture is heartfelt. When those grand sweeping curves unfold before the eyes, they immediately captivate like a magnet. This emergence of architecture signifies a revolutionary transformation in the post-imperial era of Italian history, a pioneer altering history. Like a fantastical futurist, his works bear a signature style akin to the Pantheon’s star, Zaha Hadid—only more masculine.
Interview
Antonino Cardillo, with Helen Geng Haizhen
May I ask how old you are? Your work seems highly symbolic. What inspires your creations? What is your design philosophy?
I am 36 years old, born in the central Mediterranean (Sicily), where the sunlight is intense. I have always had a profound love for light, and my architecture is an expression of this passion.
Your exploration of light and shadow in architecture resembles sketching. I also enjoy sketching; it seems to delve into the depths of the soul. Do you find endless fascination in exploring structure?
Yes, exploring structure is akin to a deep analysis of the soul.
Your works are massive and sculptural, as if from distant lands and ancient civilisations, astonishing in their presence. The contorted dance of limbs, the opposing movements, resemble a flamenco dance, a dance that masters music with precision. Architecture is frozen music; in your architecture, light is akin to sound in music, both being materials to express their respective rhythms, correct?
Exactly, I enjoy composing music. When I create architecture, I always try to compose music within the space. Music has greatly influenced me, more so than architecture, especially contemporary architecture. Rather than being influenced by magazines or architectural books, I prefer to transform my beloved music into musical spaces.
“Architecture is the great book of humanity” (Victor Hugo). Your works are imbued with metaphors, culture, history, and religion. Do you have a religious belief? What are the philosophical, emotional, and cultural reflections that resonate within you?
Indeed, my works are like stories of stone and light. The shaping of sequences and spaces tells my views and perspectives on the world, things I have learned, emotions I wish to preserve, people I love, and places I have seen. Each building is like a compound, containing many different elements that find a new balance. Each time it is like a little magic. I do not have a religious belief; I think that every religion or philosophy contains fragments of truth, but believing in one way or method does not hold much meaning for me.
Devyani Jayakar described your work as a masculine Zaha Hadid. Could you discuss the differences in your design philosophy or cultural connotations compared to Zaha Hadid?
I have always been fascinated by the Soviet avant-garde. Zaha Hadid was also influenced by Soviet architecture, which might be why Devyani sees similarities between my work and Hadid’s. I believe my architectural spaces appear more masculine because, in organizing architectural structures, Hadid tends to use unconventional forms, whereas I prefer simple geometric structures. The result is also complex and dynamic, but each form is insignificant, ultimately creating complexity through the relationship between the two.
I have interviewed many architects, and it seems that many do not wish to define or classify their work into a particular style, yet they do have preferences for certain materials and spatial effects. What is your understanding of style?
Seeking a defined style is not the ultimate goal of my work. Day by day, I try to find new ways, new possibilities of expression, and even take the risk of questioning my own established modes of expression, often appearing inconsistent.
How do you evaluate ‘modern architecture’? Have you ever considered trying to create some modernist buildings with glass curtain walls or box-like structures?
Perhaps I might try, but I do not think it would be within modern architecture. Perhaps my architectural style is a synthetic postmodernism, as opposed to the analytical and fragmented styles of British and American architecture from the 1970s to the 1990s. But I am not sure if this statement is correct.
From your design philosophy, could you discuss the relationship between humans, nature, architecture, and music?
Living in my architecture requires a certain attitude towards life—more aesthetic, simple, and poetic, embodying a more mature lifestyle. Thus, in my buildings, the interaction between people and natural elements such as the sun, rain, wind, and sound is far more important than the interaction with objects or furniture. I believe that a dwelling should not merely be a collection of lifeless objects. To live in such a house, one must believe that sunlight can replace the television. In a sense, living in such a house means returning to a primal state. The ever-changing natural light is always a focal point in my architecture. These houses are like observatories, constantly recording the changing weather on their walls. Just as the aesthetic experience of music is gained through the passage of time, the weather and its unpredictable colours not only paint every wall of the house but also elevate our daily lives beyond the mundane and repetitive. I like to compare architecture to music; when a piece of music reaches a state of balance, any embellishment is superfluous and futile. Therefore, my architecture is not designed for those who follow conventions or seek pleasure, but for those who are constantly exploring and pursuing.
Could you share your impressions of China?
I believe the Chinese government should build more confidence in team participation, not just in architecture, or in placing too much trust in Western architects. They often use Chinese people to create their wealth through magazines, yet they often forget about the Chinese people, as well as China’s history and traditions.
Born in 1975 in Erice, Sicily, Antonino Cardillo studied architecture in Palermo. He trained for five years under Professor Antonietta Iolanda Lima (an architect, critic, and historian of architecture and cities), assisting her in the completion of several scholarly works, including the architectural history of Palermo. In 2004, he moved to Rome to study the historic cultural city and established his own architectural practice. In 2009, Wallpaper* magazine named him one of the world’s thirty emerging architects. His works have been exhibited in various venues, including the 4th International Architecture Biennale in Rotterdam in 2009/2010. Recently, he participated in the London Design Festival, designing the central part of the Victoria and Albert Museum.
Antonino Cardillo, Purple House, Pembrokeshire, 2011.