Revealing Memories of the “Lost City” “Seeking Palermo” through Rosario La Duca Chronicles

Among the episodes of deliberate and conscious destruction that occurred in Italy in recent times, the “Sack of Palermo” is one of the most emblematic cases, not only for having drastically altered the image of the Sicilian capital but also for giving rise to processes of collective memory loss that are still evident.

During the decade of Mayor Salvo Lima's administration (1958-68), the public works department, led by Vito Ciancimino (1958-64), proceeded with a series of significant modifications to the city’s master plan, approved in 1962. This led to indiscriminate housing development, often accompanied by ignominious episodes of destruction of the city’s historical heritage. Citizens’ concern filled the pages of local newspapers, and among the most recognizable voices in the “Giornale di Sicilia” was that of Rosario La Duca (Palermo, 1923-2008).

A meticulous scholar, as well as an engineer, professor and politician, among the most energetic enthusiasts of the city’s history, La Duca dedicated his intellectual energies to organizing an archive of documents of urban history that resulted in numerous publications. His work to preserve the memory of the historic center, which had been destroyed, abandoned, and degraded after the Allied bombings, primarily unfolds through local newspapers “L’Ora” and the “Giornale di Sicilia”. In fact, he authored a column initially titled “Questa nostra città” [Our City], later renamed in the 1970s, “La Città Perduta” [The Lost City], reflecting on the outcomes of one of the most degrading periods in Palermo’s history, marred by tremendous urban speculation.

Annually, between 1975 and 1978, four volumes were published, collecting the articles from the long-standing column, which appeared weekly between 1967 and 1977. The saga of “The Lost City” began with the first volume, published in 1975 by Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, which included articles written during the same years when La Duca served as a deputy in the regional assembly, representing the Communist Party during the VI Legislature from 1967 to 1971.

In scrupulously reconstructing lost places and architectures, La Duca did not rely solely on the chronicles of the time and rare documentary sources; he also began to integrate the memories of citizens who sent him numerous letters, astounded by such decay and destruction. Readers who initially turned to the expert historian for facts about demolished buildings, started asking him about the reasons behind reckless urban transformations.

How to address the void caused by these new absences? La Duca responded to readers by maintaining an accessible, easy-to-understand tone, free of moralistic nuances. However, he did not hesitate to highlight the absurdity of the situation, offering his own unique perspective to a form of criticism that seldom reached a positive outcome. His dialogue with readers reflected the column’s immediate success, revealing a combative civic awareness, actively expressed as deputy in the Sicilian Parliament, against the danger of a certain apathy.

Following the collapse of a significant portion of the Arab-Norman Zisa Castle in 1971, the weekly column changed its title to “The Lost City.” Until that moment, La Duca had made comparisons that were sometimes nostalgic, at other times ironic, often expressing anger over the neglect or intentional destruction he witnessed. He juxtaposed the wonders of the past with the deplorable reality of his present, protesting vehemently whenever he saw a surviving monument threatened by destruction or alteration. The collapse of the Zisa Castle, feared and even foreseen, was a collective wound. Author and readers found themselves as “voces clamantes in deserto” [voices crying in the wilderness]. The second volume, which collected articles from 1971 to 1973, began with this dramatic event, marking a significant shift in editorial focus. Along with providing rare and valuable information on Palermo’s artistic and folkloric heritage, the column evolved into a sort of a bulletin on the preservation status of that cultural heritage.

Year after year La Duca’s voice persisted in his weekly column, opposing bravely every act of abuse and effort to deface the historic Palermo. It became clear that his work was not aimed at researching a “lost time” in the Proustian sense, but rather on capturing the essence of a city that had drifted into obscurity. The articles attracted not only nostalgic readers but also a growing number of young enthusiasts, especially architects who often contributed drawings and photographs. They joined the effort to preserve a heritage that was just beginning to be understood and valued.

This factor was likely what prompted La Duca to compile these articles into easily accessible volumes, which were sold at affordable price at the time. What started as a collection of memories evolved into a civil chronicle, documenting a significant and meaningful period in Palermo’s urban history. The devastation of the city, far from being a sudden and limited phenomenon, was instead a long and enduring process. La Duca swiftly recognized its origins, linking them to the slow and inexorable disintegration of the historic center’s neighborhoods, which led to the loss of customs and traditions, people, places and collective memories.

In the conclusion of the preface to the third volume, published in 1977 and featuring articles written between 1973 and 1976, the significant impact of this work was acknowledged, especially for those potentially interested in exploring key moments in the process of abdication of sensitivity and reason that marked life in Palermo in the post-war period.

“The Lost City” series came to an end in 1978 with the fourth and final volume, which collected articles written from 1976 until the summer of 1977, when the column in the “Giornale di Sicilia” was suspended, without any official explanation. However, in response to persistent requests from friends and readers, La Duca briefly revived the column in the spring of 1984, maintaining its distinctive themes: historical reflections, current events, comparisons between old and new traditions, alongside with polemics driven by a quiet anger toward those who had failed to prevent destructive changes. However, when these articles were compiled in a book published in 1985, the author chose a new title, “Seeking Palermo,” distancing it from “The Lost City” series.

Thus, “seeking” Palermo, by walking its streets, became more than just a suggestion; it represented a precise intellectual approach. La Duca’s articles, when revisited over time, do more than express indignation, but also form a collection of identity elements of architectures and urban spaces now disappeared. Through an original and personal methodology, Rosario La Duca consciously gathered and transmitted memories, going beyond mere reporting. His work is invaluable and holds the potential to address and remedy a gap that still remains unresolved today.