and ladies” were members of Genoa’s oligarchy: a class that, in the early 1800s, had emerged out of the assimilation of entrepreneurial families with the local aristocracy (Garibbo 2000: 38). With the complicity of Italy’s economic boom, however, a century later the practice of the urban stroll extended to a larger segment of the local population: the middle classes that emerged in the 1960s as a result of Genoa’s industrialization and the tertiarization of segments of the local workforce (Arvati 1988).6
Middling sectors come into being not only through relations of production, but also and just as importantly from economies of discourse and practice that mold the ever-shifting boundaries with the lower and the upper classes (Bourdieu 1984; Freeman 2000, 2014; Heiman 2015; Hoffman 2010; Leshkowich 2014; Liechty 2003; Ortner 2006). Their identities are predicated upon, among others things, taste (Bourdieu 1984), affect (Freeman 2014), and the competent use of things and places (Guano 2002, 2004; Heiman 2015; Zhang 2010); however, they also draw on cultural capital both in the form of educational credentials and as proficiency in socially hallowed forms of cultural consumption (Bourdieu 1984; Bourdieu and Passeron 1990). Fostered by the relative democratization of the public education system but also by the expansion of the administrative sector subsidiary to their city’s industries, Genoa’s new middle classes mainly comprised white-collar employees and small business owners. Their aspirational models were not just the local elites, but also the professionals and the highranking administrators who had enjoyed a life of relative privilege at least since the mid-1800s (Garibbo 2000: 41). Cultural consumption and educational credentials quickly became fundamental markers of middle-class status. Children of upper- to middle-class families often pursued an education in the classics—preferably at the prestigious Liceo Classico Andrea D’Oria, a rigorous public school where they would rub elbows with the children of the local elite.7 As they did so, they also complied with the still-prevalent belief that a knowledge of Latin and ancient Greek language and literature is the prerequisite for a superior mind. The prestige attached to classicist education helped drive a wedge between Genova bene (well-to-do) offspring who could spend their time pondering issues of Aristotelian metaphysics in preparation for a brilliant career as physicians, lawyers, or administrators, on one hand, and the lower-middle-class and working-class youth who had to learn a practical trade, on the other hand. The propensity for a highbrow style of cultural consumption was not the only aspirational characteristic of Genoa’s middle classes, though. Genoa’s aristocracy had been known for its reluctance to flaunt its wealth publicly, preferring instead to cultivate subtler tastes that, during the second half of the twentieth century, came to be compared to those of the British gentry. A middle-class lifestyle emerged in Genoa that was characterized by sobriety and by a fondness for quality consumer goods that withstood the test of time. This preference pitted the sober consumption practices of Genoa’s middle classes against the fashion-conscious flamboyance of their Milanese counterparts (Moretti 2015) as well as the stigmatized styles of the local working classes.8 In a city that, more than others, had known the ravages of war,9 frugality and chicness became mutually compatible, and the discrimination and poise required to select and wear even plain clothes with debonair elegance came to be appreciated as much as the possibility of shopping at expensive stores. As a skill that in fact “classifies the classifier” (Bourdieu 1984: 6), taste was thus somewhat democratized.
In the 1960s, with a rise in blue- and white-collar employment rates as well as in consumption standards, more and more Genoese became eager to participate in the formerly aristocratic ritual of the urban stroll during which they would perform their proper personas while enjoying the sensory, social, cultural, and commercial stimuli provided by fellow passersby, the cityscape, and local businesses. Strolling practices were established that are still popular today. During the warm season, the seaside promenades of bourgeois Corso Italia and Nervi began to brim with smartly dressed crowds enjoying the view and the sea breeze as well as the sight of their fellow Genoese while eating gelato or sipping a soda. In fall and winter, much of the passeggiata practice was—and still is—conducted downtown, especially in the very central (and conveniently porched) Via Venti Settembre, where the windows of some of the city’s trendiest stores provide additional entertainment, and the coffee shops delight the crowds with the aromas of espresso and fresh pastry. Lurking under the porches like paparazzi in Federico Fellini’s 1960 film La Dolce Vita, in those years professional photographers used to take flattering shots of passersby who would then purchase the photos as mementos of their apt urbanity. Local slang emerged defining the passeggiata as fare le vasche—literally, to “do laps” by walking back and forth from one end of the street to the other—as well as fare lo struscio, “to do the rub,” a phrase that hints at the sensuous experience of bodies fleetingly feeling each other in a casual mutual acknowledgment. The popularity of this practice went along with the rapid tertiarization of Genoa’s workforce and the rise of its middle class.
Figure 1. Passeggiata in downtown Genoa, circa 1962. Photo by Cineclair.
Deindustrialization and the Rise of a New Sensibility
Tastefully clad and equipped with a newly found knack for proper forms of consumption as well as, in most cases, a working knowledge of high culture, in the 1960s Genoa’s middle classes were poised to enjoy their city the way local elites had done before them. Yet the arena where they could see and be seen even as they pursued their urban pleasures was somewhat sketchy. Their sensuous fruition of their city was limited on one hand by the lingering ravages of World War II bombardments and a considerably degraded centro storico, and on the other by the prioritization of industrial production and the modernist rationalization of urban space (Avila 2014; Lefebvre 1978) that had been conducted for much of the twentieth century at the expense of residents’ needs and their quality of life (Gazzola, Prampolini, and Rimondi 2014). As Genoa’s mechanical industries, its port, and its steelworks continued to expand, forms of pollution emerged that ranged from toxic fumes and sludge to coal dust and airborne particulates. Yet, while its nefarious effects were naturalized as an inevitable part of life in a modern city (Mirzoeff 2014), the distribution of industrial discomfort was hardly class-blind. Most of the problems caused by Genoa’s metropolitan expansion and its industrialization were concentrated in the working-class peripheries. While bourgeois Albaro and Castelletto remained pristine, the city’s western outskirts were forced to host the factories, the port, the airport, the city’s garbage dump, and a highway—Genoa’s first—built right between rows of apartment complexes. The destructive effects of Genoa’s modernization extended to its downtown, too—though there they only affected the historic center that had been progressively abandoned since the nineteenth century. In the 1950s, a first swath of the centro storico had been bulldozed to give way to Piccapietra, a commercial and administrative district. In 1965, an unsightly junction known as sopraelevata was installed between Genoa’s historic center and the port, thus finalizing the disconnection between this sparsely populated working-class neighborhood and an already barely visible sea. Between the late 1960s and the early 1970s, the area of the centro storico known as Via Madre di Dio was razed to the ground and replaced with a modernist conglomerate of office buildings known as Centro dei Liguri. Immediately populated by pushers and heroin addicts, the adjacent park was dubbed “Giardini di plastica” (Plastic Gardens) and proactively avoided by everybody else. The early 1970s was also a negative turning point for Genoa: the steep decline of its port as well as its steelworks and mechanical industries ensuing the rise of global competition and the energy crisis of 1973 brought about the demise of thousands of jobs. The rise of hopelessness went along with a steep increase in drug abuse and crime as well as politically motivated violence even as protests and strikes lacerated the city’s quotidian. Angry, dangerous, and ravaged by an ailing industrialism, Genoa became a “ghost city” (Ginsborg 2003: 17) where the leisurely fruition of public urban space had to yield in the face of a rapid decline, and an everyday life often marked by fear and despondency began to erode the urban pleasures of the Genoese.
In the 1980s, a rising critical stance vis-à-vis the logic of industrialism and its consequences for the environment and the lives of people spread all over
