Francesco Miceli, President of the Order of Architects of Palermo, tells us how architecture, historic villages, the territory, and all enhancement projects clash with the harsh reality of inadequate infrastructure. This is not (just) a problem, but a denied right to access and enjoyment

Let us start from a basic assumption: Southern Italy is a resource, thanks to the quality of its territory and the extraordinary richness of its historical and cultural heritage (all Souther regions have a high density of cultural assets, as recorded by ISTAT according to their size). Unfortunately, despite this immense heritage, no effective policy is being implemented to properly protect and enhance it, confirming Italy as one of the least generous countries in Europe in terms of cultural funding. There is no real strategy for promotion or preservation, nor any effort to build a network capable of connecting these scattered small-scale realities and strengthening their interaction and visibility toward the outside world.  
Isolated communities live out their fate either as centers of excellence (in some cases) or, more often, of abandonment and decay. They fail to recognize the affinities shaped by history – from their Greek roots to Arab and Norman influences – because there is no physical relationship, no real connection linking them together.
The cultural heritage of Southern Italy, like that of any other place, cannot simply be reduced to a list of sites: it must be integrated into a broader territorial policy strategy that uses culture also (and not only) as a driver for intelligent tourism. Therefore, beyond actions focused on individual sites, it is necessary to intervene at the territorial level in order to guarantee accessibility to these cultural assets.
Accessibility to cultural heritage, as well as to public spaces, is closely tied to the issue of citizens’ rights. Developing infrastructure across the territory means enabling every individual citizen to access it. The lack of accessibility represents a denial of the right to enjoy historical and cultural heritage.

If we begin from the issue of rights – the right to experience the city, its historical heritage, and access its services – we open up an entire range of further questions, because this broadens the reflection on what cities, smaller towns, and villages are today.
Cities emerged and developed throughout the twentieth century primarily as places of consumption. The logic of the modern city is not centered on the citizen, but rather on a concentration of people often coming from other contexts, sometimes rural ones.
Economic forces concentrate people where opportunities to “consume” are created.
The spread of COVID-19 is prompting a reinterpretation (though not necessarily a transformation) of the city, which can instead become a place of cultural innovation and the exercise of rights.
A process of reconfiguration in this sense – interpreting the city as an element of civilization rather than merely a place of consumption – would mean rewriting and adapting the prevailing models adopted up to now, starting with architecture itself and restoring to it a strategic and political role.

Over the past ten years, three adjectives have progressively been associated with the city, almost with a cathartic function: smart, resilient, and sustainable. The so-called “smart city” is, in reality, a rather aseptic expression aimed at governing the logic of consumption in a different way; “resilient” and “sustainable” complete this semantic triad.
We must ask ourselves whether the purification of the city truly passes through these three meanings, or whether they are simply linguistic expedients used to disguise an identity that has, in fact, remained unchanged.  The reflection is broader: the rethinking of the urban center involves a new form of urban physiliogy, particularly in Southern Italy, where environmental sustainability has always compensated for unsustainable building practices, and resilience is part of the South’s very DNA, given its ability to recover from earthquakes, structural decay, and floods over time.
Certainly, today a new awareness is emerging, and digitalization has become a key element in the organization of the city. Within this transformation, architecture must confront its own time, attempting to provide answers.

Unveiling the invisibility of the places in our Mediterranean is one of the possible responses.  
Invisible Mediterranean(s) is an important initiative because it tells the story of an unseen South – not an easy one, but one with extraordinary cultural, tourist, and landscape potential.
It is an exploration that starts from the ground up, investigating territorially marginal realities that are nonetheless rich in content and in unusual, almost forgotten models, giving value to what can no longer be found elsewhere.
Sicily, in particular, holds strong potential to translate these models into a working hypothesis.
The three “catartic” words in the South become everyday acts of survival.
An exceptionally powerful testimony of this was given by Pier Paolo Pasolini in “La lunga strada di sabbia”, the diary of a journey in 1959 along the Italian coasts from Ventimiglia to Palmi, where, upon reaching the South, he describes expectation and joy at their highest intensity. The route toward Vallo Lucano leads him to write: “Here beauty directly produces wealth. People live in a kind of quiet ease, letting beauty work for them”.

However, the most authentic bond with the territory is increasingly difficult to maintain for smaller towns: the relationship between urbanity and rurality becomes ever more complex, to the point of being torn apart and distorted. Palermo is a paradigmatic example of this condition. The interweaving of agricultural fragments within the outskirts of the consolidated city can become a major resource. These too are invisible places – but a different kind of invisibility from that which characterizes hidden villages. They are invisible because there is no willingness to look at them, yet they are strategic for rethinking the city: not to be transformed into new building developments, but to build a connective identity and enhance their value. This means not denying environmental sustainability, the intelligence of place, or its resilience, but rather reinforcing and bringing them to light.

In the South of the Mediterranean, identity also exists in the outskirts: this is a fact that must be recognized and emphasized in order to redeem their degradation and underuse, and to extend the right to public and urban space.
Urban space is both a concept and an expanded right – an important design dimension for defining any model. It is not an independent variable, but something that deeply influences the everyday life of the individual.
In his talk on “Architettura e Salute”, delivered to the Consiglio Nazionale degli Architetti, Paesaggisti e Conservatori in July 2018, the psychiatrist Vittorio Andreoli explained with scientific rigor how human behavior is influenced by three factors: biology (the physical being, “flesh”), personality, and environment – both natural/geographical and relational – and how, for this reason, it is necessary that the natural environment and the relational environment be coeherent with one another.

All of this is architecture – architecture in Southern Italy.