Eugi Gufo's siteEugi Gufo

My commitment to studying small Italian towns is rarely rewarded by Fortune. Occasionally, however, it is.
On 24 December 2016, disembarking in yet another randomly selected locality — Casalmaggiore, in this case — I immediately realised that luck had finally made an appearance. From the very first steps, I found myself in a genuinely beautiful town (albeit a small one: just over fifteen thousand inhabitants).
The main peculiarity of Casalmaggiore’s central square is the absence of churches. Instead, one finds the Town Hall, stylistically reminiscent of that in Piacenza.

The Cathedral of Casalmaggiore, completed in 1861, is built in the neoclassical style and contains several interesting peculiarities. First of all, its walls are neither plastered nor made of exposed raw brick.

Moreover, the profile of the columns and the windows is not entirely typical of an Italian church.

The only other church that seemed sufficiently interesting to merit your attention stands outside the town, in the middle of the fields — and was closed at the time of my visit.

On the central square, however, I encountered a nativity scene remarkable in its simplicity.

From a distance, this building initially struck me as a mosque. Closer inspection revealed it to be an ordinary residential structure: the intercom bore exclusively Italian surnames, and the entrance displayed Christmas decorations.

The older generations will carry their religious tales heavenwards. The newer generations have developed myths of their own.

The «Temple of Culture» — the late 18th-century municipal theatre — appears operational and in good condition. A relief.

The civil architecture is, overall, attractive. In one case I even found a deconsecrated church converted to civic use — still a rare phenomenon in Italy.

Naturally, good architectural examples are easier to find in the centre. Yet even in the periphery of Casalmaggiore there are entire areas of considerable value. One such district seemed almost English in style.

There are, however, certain rather curious choices. This terrace, for instance, has no visible access other than a window belonging to the pink building — and yet appears to be regularly used.

Abandoned (or nearly abandoned) buildings are, of course, present, many of which would merit recovery.

Casalmaggiore’s military architecture consists of a single Torrione: presumably well preserved, though surrounded by buildings of various kinds, which makes detailed study somewhat impractical.

Among the town’s artistic monuments, particular attention should be paid to the fountain — built in April 2002 — intended to evoke «the river and the Po Valley landscape.» In this context, the sign stating «non-potable water» acquires an additional symbolic resonance.

Local commercial activities are not negligible. Some display monumental signage of impressive proportions.

Others — such as this former weigh station — have been converted without significant alteration to their historical appearance.

At first glance, this area resembled a driving school training ground. It is, in fact, a karting track.

In certain stretches along the riverbank — though not elsewhere in town — signs indicate recreational points.

I had hoped that this map might prove somewhat more useful from an ethnographic or tourist perspective. It is merely a list of restaurants in the province of Cremona (within which Casalmaggiore is located).

The large boat station on the Po appears operational despite its overall aesthetic condition.

Boats, however, are scarce, despite the almost spring-like weather. Presumably their owners are at home, detained by the Great Christmas Monster.

On the steps leading down to the river, a metre scale marks the historical maximum flood levels of the Po.

This peculiar metal installation — resembling a ship secured by an advanced anti-theft system — serves a function unknown to me. Given that the entrance to the municipal waterworks lies on the other side of the embankment protecting the town, I assume it forms part of the water intake system.

The most widespread bench model in Casalmaggiore is unremarkable…

… except for the occasionally unusual locations in which it is installed.

Other bench models exist, though they are less common and often considerably stranger.

This late December was unusually warm (the benches could therefore be tested comfortably), yet the exact temperature remained unknown to me. The beautiful antique thermometer on the façade of the Town Hall has a glass casing so dirty that it is no longer transparent.

The bicycle parking facility next to the railway station possesses an original appearance and limited functionality (the frame can be secured to only one of the four posts).

Casalmaggiore’s litter bins have a curious design and are frequently equipped with ashtrays: respect.

This is the first time I have encountered such an elaborate artificial nest.

The railway station of Casalmaggiore has the typical structure of small Lombard stations. I am beginning to suspect that the network of 19th-century freight depots — now largely unused — could be economically repurposed. For instance, transformed into a chain of micro-hostels (their location is invariably advantageous).

The station’s most notable virtue is the evident affection its administrators hold for Italy’s material history. Indeed, I found two locomotive water cranes preserved in significantly better condition than the one I observed in Breno. First, note that the original lamps and wells remain intact.

Moreover, one can clearly see the chain used to rotate the arm, the rigid handle employed to secure the pivoting pipe in one of four possible positions (the handle had to be slotted into two aligned recesses), and the valve used to open and close the water. Installation year: 1907 (Italian State Railways were formally established in 1905 following the nationalisation of numerous private lines).

Well. That is all for today. Casalmaggiore is an open town. You may safely go and see it for yourselves.