EUR, Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana

EUR: Rome’s 1942 World Expo District

Rome’s Modernist marvel was designed to host a World Expo that never was, but the bustling business district today is home to museums, monuments, and more.

The year is 1942. It has been two years since Italy joined the war as a member of the Axis powers, one year before it would switch to the side of the Allies with the Armistice of Cassibile. In November, Allied forces would land in North Africa, prompting the Germans to launch Operation Anton, in which Italy would occupy Corsica as part of its bid to ‘reclaim’ territories it deemed belonged to it. The Raid of Algiers would take place the following month. It was the year of the 10th annual Venice International Film Festival. That year, however, very few countries would participate. World War Two was in full swing, and the film festival would be suspended temporarily beginning with following year. 

1942 was also the year Italy would host the World Expo, an international exhibition that takes place every five years and that represents a country’s achievements as they relate to universal themes. Past world fairs have included that of Paris in 1889, for which the Eiffel Tower was constructed in celebration of the centennial of the French Revolution. Although the project was conceived back in 1936, after Italy’s invasion of Ethiopia, this world fair would never take place due to the events that would unfold in that time period.

It was an ambitious project, meant to rival even the grandeur of Ancient Rome. EUR, or E42 as the project was originally called after the year in which it was supposed to be held, stands for “Esposizione Universale Roma”, or “Rome World Exposition”. Tourists will likely be most familiar with the historic centre of Rome, where the city’s major landmark sites are all huddled together, most within walking distance of each other– the Trevi fountain, Piazza di Spagna, the Pantheon, Piazza Venezia, the Colosseum, the Vatican. The business district of EUR lies on the periphery, though. It is the penultimate stop on the Metro B line in the Laurentina direction. 

The area was designed to commemorate twenty years of Fascism from the March on Rome in 1922, in which the mass demonstration organised by the National Fascist Party led to its establishment as the ruling power in Italy. Though the project was left uncompleted at the time it was supposed to be presented, work resumed in the 1950s and the district was inaugurated as a residential and business area. The Palazzo dello Sport and the Velodromo were completed just in time for the 1960 Olympics. EUR is now home to the headquarters of many multinational companies, and it has featured in more than a few classic films, including Federico Fellini’s Otto e Mezzo (“8 ½ ”), Bernando Bertolucci’s Il Conformista (“The Conformist”), and Michelangelo Antonioni’s L’Eclisse (“The Eclipse”).

The main attractions of EUR centre around what was originally called Piazza Imperiale (“Imperial Square”) and is now Piazza Guglielmo Marconi, named after the inventor of the wireless telegraph. In the middle of the piazza looms a tall obelisk inscribed with depictions of his inventions among other scenes, including dances and allegorical scenes.

The buildings, mostly in travertine and limestone, are paradigms of modernist, Fascist architecture, which itself was inspired by classical Roman Imperial architecture. The Palazzo dei Congressi and Palazzo Uffici are prime examples of this. The latter was the only building to be entirely completed before Italy’s foray into World War Two. It also contains an air raid shelter. The scene in front of the Palazzo Uffici is quintessentially Roman, with its stone pines and nude male statues. The bronze statue, standing proudly in full fascist salute near the entrance to the building, was originally called “Genio del Fascismo” (Genius of Fascism) and rechristened “Genio dello Sport” (Genius of Athletics/Sports) after the fall of the regime. The building itself still bears one of Mussolini’s most famous quotes, declaring the incipit of a “Third Rome” that would usher in a new era with all the old glory of Imperial Rome. 

Walking through EUR is like walking through a magical realist painting, or de Chirico’s Piazza d’Italia, the Song of Love, or Mystery and Melancholy of a Street. It is beautiful, in a bleak, minimalist way, and blindingly white in the summer sun. Perhaps the most iconic emblem of the district is the Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana, or Palace of Italian Civilisation, which locals call the ‘Square Colosseum’ (‘Colosseo Quadrato’). Under its arcades stand statues, which represent the arts and different trades. At the top of the building are inscribed the words, “Un popolo di poeti di artisti di eroi/di santi di pensatori di scienziati/di navigatori di trasmigratori” (“A people of poets, artists, heroes, saints, thinkers, scientists, explorers and travellers”). Since 2015, the palace has been the headquarters of fashion giant Fendi.

EUR is populated with museums, testament to its original purpose as an exhibition in honour of Italy’s cultural grandeur. One such museum is the Museo Nazionale delle Arti e Tradizioni Popolari (National Museum of Popular Arts and Traditions), which, with its sterile white portico and colonnade, is another example of the architecture that characterises the district. The museum is a sort of ethnographical exposition. It documents daily life before industrialisation, from the end of the nineteenth to the first half of the twentieth century. Public transportation, agriculture, various professions, and traditional music are some of the facets covered. EUR would fall short of its purpose without the Museo della Civiltà Romana (Museum of Roman Civilisation), which boasts a large collection of all things Ancient Rome–copies of statues, bas-reliefs, and architectural models small and large. Other museums include the Museo Nazionale dell’Alto Medioevo (National Museum of the Middle Ages) and the Museo Nazionale Preistorico Etnografico (Prehistoric Ethnographic Museum). 

Touring EUR gives you all the feeling of being in a ghost town, which sounds strange to say, as the district is very much still populated, bustling even. But its history has left an indelible impression on it, and the rationalist architecture, while striking in its own unique way, is eerily impersonal in its geometry and rigid lines. Absent are the ornate, baroque flourishes that characterise so much of Rome. This is no-nonsense. The rigorous attention to structure reveals a deep fixation with discipline and uniformity, two qualities the fascist regime imposed upon the Italian people. It was a doomed enterprise from the beginning, though. Italy loves life too much to stay put within narrow, dictatorial confines. Returning to Policlinico that day, on my way to meet a friend, I smiled to notice a small poster on one of the walls that border the university and hospital complex. “Sapienza antifascista,” it read, “Fuori i fascisti dall’università! La cultura rivuole il suo spazio” (“Sapienza is antifascist. Out with fascists from the university! Culture is reclaiming its space”). The tides of history have changed, and the Roman youth today remain fully committed to remembering the lessons of the past. 

Reaching EUR is simple. Take Metro B in the Laurentina direction, getting off at the EUR Fermi stop. Proceed to Via Cristoforo Colombo, around which most of the attractions spread out. EUR boasts plenty of lovely restaurants, from Italian to ethnic cuisine. There is also a lake and an adjacent park with hundreds of cherry trees. It is an excellent way to pass the day. For those interested in also seeing Rome’s historical centre, there is a host of tours to choose from. From walking food tours for foodies to photography tours where you can take advantage of some of the most beautiful backdrops to immortalise your trip to the Eternal City, there is no shortage of ways to experience Rome! 

Warhol, Pollock, art, Rome, exhibitions, Altare della Patria, Vittoriano, foro romano

Modern American Art in the Heart of Rome’s Historic Centre

I visited the joint Warhol and Pollock exhibitions on a sunny Sunday in Rome. The Vittoriano, the lofty, conspicuous monument built in honour of unified Italy’s first king, Vittorio Emmanuele II, doubles as a museum of Italian unification and host to rotating exhibitions on art and history. These two exhibitions in particular are adjacent to one another, and for a reasonable price, you can conveniently visit both.

Upon entering the Warhol exhibit, I immediately noticed the vibrancy of colour, both from the pieces themselves and the elements of the layout. A series of brash Marilyns graced the entrance. The neon signposts that followed along the way were consistent with the artist’s own vision and style, as were the music and light projections accompanying some of the rooms, creating a textured, multi-layered experience.

Multicoloured, kaleidoscopic flowers form part of the immersive Andy Warhol exhibition

The Pollock exhibition was likewise remarkably immersive. A brief film ran in a small, darkened hall, describing the artist’s famous ‘drip’ technique, in which Pollock seems to dance around his canvas, dipping his brushes in copious paint and letting the colour drip onto the surface. Animated panels demonstrating Pollock’s signature technique lined a narrow corridor leading up to the main exhibition halls. The black walls lit up with bright yellow, red, and white splatters. Quotes from various artists of the New York School and commentators on their work punctuated the pieces. “I have no fear of making changes, destroying the image,” says Pollock, “because the painting has a life of its own.” Indeed, his work evokes movement, spontaneity, and extemporisation, much like the jazz improvisation, or ‘free’ jazz, that was also emerging at the time.

“Animated panels demonstrating Pollock’s signature technique lined a narrow corridor leading up to the main exhibition halls.”

“I have no fear of making changes, destroying the image,” says Pollock, “because the painting has a life of its own.”

Another video showed Pollock at work on his famous Number 27. I could almost smell the paint. I learned an interesting fact from the famous Life magazine article of 1949: Pollock numbered his paintings, rather than naming them, so that viewers would not observe them with “any preconceived notion of what they are.” At another stage in the exhibit was a yellow couch, on which I lied down and looked up at a screen also illustrating the drip technique. It was as though Pollock were standing over me, executing his masterpieces. Upstairs, works by Hans Hofmann, Al Held, Grace Hartigan, Helen Frankenthaler, and William de Kooning graced the walls. The pieces gave off the impression of impulsivity and rapidness, but their production often took weeks and months to conclude, each drop of colour, each brushstroke a studied measure, their combination offering a compelling result. On an interactive screen, I created my own Pollock-esque work with just a wave of the hand.

Pollock’s famous Number 27

The time period that brought to light artists like Andy Warhol, Jackson Pollock, and those of the New York School–and that also birthed the likes of Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and Miles Davis–was fertile for radical change. It saw a risky departure from the Old Continent as the standard of influence and a desire to carve out a place for uniquely American art, which, while ruffling the feathers of conservative gatekeepers, eventually succeeded in catapulting the painters to fame. The tension between contemporary artists and the establishment reached its apogee when the Metropolitan Museum announced a new exhibition, one from which artists like Jackson Pollock were excluded. The artists protested, and their legendary open letter to the president of the Metropolitan was published on the front page of the New York Times. “18 Painters Accuse Metropolitan of Being ‘Hostile to Advanced Art’ ” read the headline. The group of abstract expressionist artists was dubbed ‘The Irascibles’. Interestingly, the Congress for Cultural Freedom, backed by the CIA, eventually supported Pollock’s work, seeing it as the ultimate freedom of expression in a global reality coloured by the Cold War. At the opposite pole of this polarised world, in fact, was the social realism of Soviet art, which was to be avoided at all costs. 

Andy Warhol was another revolutionary, a provocative artist on a post-war stage that was ripe for experimentation, irreverent innovation, upheaval and the assertion of new values onto the artistic scene. With the advent of new forms of mass communication and mass production, the commodity and its advertisement became pervasive and were peddled to the consumer on levels hitherto unseen. This new, rather aggressive form of capitalism, along with its extreme counterpart, communism, served as inspiration for the artist Warhol to explore the meaning of art, objectification, violence, and value. Warhol took the mundane, elevating it to the height of art, and brought art down to the ordinary, rendering it accessible, imitable, commodifiable, to be displayed on T-shirts, in the metro, in alleyways, and under scaffolding. Perhaps best illustrating this is Warhol’s reproduction of the instantly recognisable Joconda, or Mona Lisa–an unapologetic elimination of the hierarchy of fine art.


At the heart of much of his work is the relationship between art and consumption. The repetition of many of his most famous pieces, like the Marilyns, are reminiscent of advertising campaigns, identical posters in succession, running down streets and along bridges. The Marilyns are deducted from the inimitable, world-renowned starlet and reduced to copies that almost look like negative afterimages, each employing garish colours transposed upon one another in such a fashion as to mask the actress’s beauty. Warhol also applied this same technique to Mao Zedong’s famous portrait. Bright pink and red colour Chairman Mao’s lips–bold and cheeky. Did Warhol wish to draw a parallel between dictatorships and propaganda? Or perhaps even a parallel between capitalistic advertising and propaganda? ‘Mao’ reminded me of ‘Drag Putin’, the portrait of Vladimir Putin in heavy makeup–false lashes, blue eye-shadow and red lipstick–with a rainbow flag as his background. Banned in Russia.

Chairman Mao

“At the heart of much of his work is the relationship between art and consumption.”

Warhol’s affinity for the equalising potential of consumerist culture, however, was clear. He famously stated: “You can be watching TV and see Coca-Cola, and you can know that the President drinks Coke, Liz Taylor drinks Coke, and just think, you can drink Coke, too. A Coke is a Coke and no amount of money can get you a better Coke.” At the end of both tours, there were little gift shop where one can purchase such memorabilia as biographies, canvas bags, sketchbooks, little Warhol dolls, Campbell soup cans, and notebooks with a quote from Warhol that is uncannily relevant to our times: “In the future, everybody will be world famous for fifteen minutes.” Remarkable intuition. 

Souvenirs with a hint of irony.

Outside the Vittoriano, a street artist sat on the sidewalk and spray painted sci-fi inspired landscapes in bold shades of purple, pink, orange, blue, and green–otherworldly sunsets, oceans, and forests. All for sale at a negligible sum. The poetry of the moment was absolute. I was at the intersection of some of Rome’s most important streets, including Via del Corso and Via dei Fori Imperiali, the latter of which leads to the Colosseum. Behind me was a late nineteenth century monument, striking to our modern eyes–a veritable symbol of Rome now–but which was mocked for its garishness by contemporaries to its construction! Off to the side, on Via dei Fori Imperiali, were the ancient ruins of the Roman Forum. The Via itself was a product of Mussolini’s imperialistic ambitions and delusions of grandeur. He had razed to the ground medieval houses and buildings to pave the way for the immense boulevard. He had used the piazza to deliver speeches to his crowds. It was overwhelming to be in the presence of so much history and to consider modern Rome in light of its past. As an American in Rome, it was especially humbling to see our artists represented in one of the world’s most celebrated and enduring capitals of art –a testament to the success of these daring visionaries.

“Outside the Vittoriano, a street artist sat on the sidewalk and spray painted sci-fi inspired landscapes in bold shades of purple, pink, orange, blue, and green–otherworldly sunsets, oceans, and forests. All for sale at a negligible sum. The poetry of the moment was absolute.”

Whether you are an art lover or simply curious, visiting the Pollock and Warhol exhibitions is a rewarding and enriching experience, offering you an excellent way to spend an afternoon in Rome and leaving you the better for it. The exhibitions are located in the Ala Brasini wing of the complex, on Via dei Fori Imperiali and will be hosted until February 3 (Warhol) and February 24 (Pollock). For more information, visit the official site of the Vittoriano, which is available in both English and Italian. If you wish to visit the ancient ruins near the Vittoriano, you can do so in a variety of ways. Visit the links for more details.