The Unfinished: Identity Symbol or Failure?

Unfinished works have always been suspended between absence and possibility: they can be perceived as symbols of failure, but also as opportunities for transformation and new meanings. From the Sagrada Família to the numerous never-completed buildings that dot the global landscape, we discussed this with Professor Daniela Mondini, Full Professor at the USI Academy of Architecture in Mendrisio, in a feature produced in collaboration with laRegione.

On 10 June, the Sagrada Família in Barcelona reached a new milestone with the inauguration of the Tower of Jesus Christ, set to become the highest point of the basilica at over 170 metres. The event coincided with the centenary of the death of its architect, Antoni Gaudí, representing a highly symbolic moment for a work that has lived in a state of constant transformation for over a century.

Yet, just as one of the world's most famous construction sites nears completion, a question returns to the fore that concerns not only the Catalan church but contemporary architectural culture as a whole: what should be done with unfinished works? For many observers, the Sagrada Família was perhaps more fascinating when it appeared as a gigantic permanent construction site. "As a student, I was sorry at the thought of it being completed," observes Professor Daniela Mondini, Full Professor at the USI Academy of Architecture in Mendrisio. "I found it more interesting as an unfinished object—not a church, but a great architectural sculpture. I wondered: when it is finished, will it continue to fascinate us in the same way?"

A Fascinating Value

This reflection opens up a broader theme: the unfinished is not necessarily a shortcoming; on the contrary, in many cases, it possesses its own aesthetic strength. "I believe that in the culture of the second half of the twentieth century, dominated by abstraction, the viewer's imagination can help complete the work," explains the scholar. "Perhaps ours is a nostalgia for the uncompleted that younger generations feel less. My students, for instance, might ask why artificial intelligence is not used to reconstruct what is missing. We, on the other hand, are probably more inclined to see the unfinished as a space of possibility." The case of the Sagrada Família is also unique because a sort of cult has developed around the figure of Gaudí. "There have even been attempts to beatify him. Today, he is recognised as "venerable". I find it significant that the main tower was inaugurated on the very anniversary of his death. In a way, an architect is being transformed into an almost sacred figure."

For centuries, the unfinished had a very different meaning from the one it holds today. Large uncompleted works were almost always monumental buildings, mostly religious, which seemed to demand their completion. Milan Cathedral, for example, saw centuries of discussion over its definitive facade; the same applies to Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence or Cologne Cathedral, all buildings completed in the nineteenth century. "Until the twentieth century, large unfinished buildings almost always had a community function," emphasises the scholar. "The Sagrada Família itself belongs to this tradition. It is perhaps one of the last great buildings of worship that we continue to build." However, there are also unfinished works destined to remain so. It is the case with Beauvais Cathedral in France, "where the exasperated pursuit of height caused collapses as early as the thirteenth century. Today, no one thinks of completing it. Its incompleteness has become an integral part of its historical identity."

Demolish, Preserve or Transform?

In the twentieth century, unfinished architecture changed radically. It was no longer a matter of cathedrals or monumental palaces, but of infrastructure, public buildings, industrial facilities and abandoned housing complexes. "The contemporary unfinished is primarily infrastructural," notes Professor Mondini. "We have a landscape full of works left to themselves. The question is: what do we do with them?". Demolish, preserve or transform? Demolition involves high economic and environmental costs, as well as erasing a testament to our time. On the other hand, simple monumentalisation risks freezing these buildings in a state of permanent uselessness. Moreover, it carries costs, and the building does not always have a historical and/or architectural value that justifies them. For this reason, a third way is increasingly gaining ground: reuse. "Many structures have lost their original function and become obsolete," explains the scholar, "but precisely because of this, they can become opportunities."

The Sulzer industrial area in Winterthur has been transformed into a mixed-use neighbourhood housing residential units, services and cultural activities. In Rome, the old Montemartini power station has become a museum venue where Roman sculptures dialogue with old turbines and machinery ("Beautiful!"). In Germany, too, numerous World War II bunkers have been converted into museums, hotels or public spaces. The logic is simple: instead of demolishing, the existing skeleton is salvaged and given a new function.

In fact, "today certain architects, including a few here at the Academy, are already designing with a view to a possible future transformation of buildings," observes Mondini. "The idea is that a structure can survive by adapting its purpose. It is a major paradigm shift from the throwaway culture that characterised much of the twentieth century." However, to turn unfinished works into a resource, it is necessary to know and classify them. This gave rise to the proposal to build a proper "inventory/corpus" of the uncompleted: a tool to catalogue buildings based on precise characteristics such as urban or rural context, structural material, dimensions, ownership and, above all, the degree of incompleteness. Recently, a doctoral thesis on the architecture of the unfinished in Sicily was completed. There, too, the question was: the question was whether to complete it, leave it unfinished, or celebrate this type of incompleteness." A building can indeed find itself in very different conditions: having only its foundations, presenting pillars and floor slabs, or being structurally complete but never used. The objective is to identify criteria that allow each type to be associated with possible recovery strategies, maintaining the flexibility needed to adapt to local specificities. From this perspective, the uncompleted ceases to be merely a mistake to be corrected and becomes a design resource. "This is also a theme of one of our summer schools, which we hold every two years: reuse, restoration. Always with this question: how is a building reused over time, whether it is ancient, medieval, Renaissance or contemporary?"

Widespread Reuse

Besides, European cities have always been built through the reuse and transformation of what already exists. Roman structures became the foundations or integral parts of medieval buildings; industrial complexes turned into museums, hospitals into libraries—like the library of the Academy of Architecture—and fortresses took on new civic functions, as seen in Bellinzona. "All our cities are stratified," Professor Mondini reminds us. "Reusing what exists is a practice much older than we think." Perhaps this is precisely the key to reading contemporary unfinished works. Today they appear as symbols of waste and failure; tomorrow they could be considered characteristic ruins of our era, material testaments to a development model and its contradictions.

Between demolition and passive preservation, there is therefore a third possibility: transforming the unfinished into a new design opportunity. A perspective that applies to the concrete skeletons scattered across the landscape, just as it does to the famous Catalan construction site. Because the true alternative to the unfinished is not necessarily completion, but the ability to imagine new uses and new meanings for what already exists.

Without forgetting a little curiosity: the "chantier-spectacle" (construction site show), as they call it in France, which reached its peak with the restoration of Notre-Dame in Paris after the fire on 15 April 2019—a project lasting years that also became a tourist attraction and a show ("everyone watched videos of how the large oak beams for the roof carpentry were transported, cut, assembled, etc."). It is a success that Saint-Denis Cathedral, one of the most important monuments of early Gothic architecture—whose north tower was dismantled in the nineteenth century for structural reasons and is now intended to be rebuilt—intends to repeat the work (work began in March 2025). Perhaps even at the Sagrada Família, once completed, they will leave a few cranes?

Content produced and published in collaboration with laRegione.