Dear Palace of Brigades

Motivated by the works and ideas of the students of Studio Tirana, Sotiria Kornaropoulou addressed this letter to the Palace of Brigades in Tirana in 2020, recounting her only visit and the profound impressions it left on her

“Dear Palace of Brigades,

I visited you only once. I just recall that I located you on the map, and was driven to you by a driver who didn’t speak any English. The car seemed to leave the city and drive on a motorway, along a very long fence. I remember us stopping on an empty driveway, the driver and guard communicating at length, asking for my passport, and finally getting to enter your gates.

Your gardens felt rich, endless. Your melancholic interior sometimes felt charming, sometimes simply old, but all in all it felt very intimate. More than your architectural or historical value, what I most appreciated about you was this sense of intimacy. The visit felt like, what in French would call a “dépaysement”; a feeling of having gone somewhere far. I came out lightheaded as if I’d just awoken from a dream. I later realised that this place, which had the capacity for taking me ‚elsewhere’ for that little while, was just a 30’ walk from the central square. Seemingly, you are not bothered with confronting anyone with your parallel reality, although it could not leave anyone indifferent.

Lately we have all been forced to experience a certain form of isolation, so, as unspectacular as it may be, the word resonates right now. It is not easy to embrace, all the more for knowing Albania and its complexity a little. It’s a bit of a struggle, isn’t it? Trying to break free from one’s isolation, all the while, while discovering oneself in it. When dropped off that day at the entrance of what seemed to be a cared-for but empty place, empty of life but for our short presence, isolation and connection could have meant different things. A bridge over a river is a connection, but so too is a shared moment, a shared purpose, a recurrent something. I connected to you in that brief moment. Or at least, I connected to discovering you. It seemed to me that you wanted to be discovered, but not invaded – not even temporarily, like many other places more symbolic, magical.

In these times of extreme exposure and exacerbated loneliness, my question to you would actually be: can you give us tips on how to keep the intimacy and the connection to our own distinctiveness, whilst being open enough to the world? Can you help us to understand where to play along, yet without compromise; what is it to be alive, but not to conform... Do you mean that isolation and freedom are about to what you relate, and from what you are (fully) separated?

Entering your territory was quite a ritual. Is this what you are looking to share perhaps? Should we look for your rituals? Should we take off our shoes? Wear a uniform? Do you want us to play a role? Or are you perhaps into choreography? Those choreographies of life where time changes limits? Like, a part of you breathing in and expanding with the presence of others, then breathing out, changing form, giving space to something else? Oh, I think this could be nice. I would not be able to predict what to expect from you next time; returning to you would become discovering you all over again. Your otherness would then perhaps be safe; you would set the rules of our coming to you.

In any case, I hope I can visit again soon. Take care ‘til then.

Sincerely,
Sotiria, Brussels, October 2020”

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[Subject] Palace of Brigades

[Date] October 2020

[Author] Sotiria Kornaropoulou