There are places you leave behind. And then there are those you return to. For Luca Dini, Florence is both. For over thirty years, he has travelled the world designing yachts, resorts, artificial islands, marinas and entire neighbourhoods. He has worked for Saudi princes, discussed masterplans with some of the biggest international firms, and spent more time in airports than in his own studio. And yet, his address has never changed. He has stayed in Florence. A choice that surprises anyone who meets him for the first time.
‘The question I’m always asked is: “Why are you still in Florence? A practice like yours should be in Milan, London or Dubai.” Once, even a leading accountancy firm said that to me. I replied: “Because in the morning I want to go for breakfast at my local café with my friends.” They looked at me as if I were mad.’ It sounds like a romantic answer. In reality, it perfectly captures the way Dini approaches his craft. A ‘glocal’ designer, even before being a ‘global’ one. An international outlook, his passport always in his pocket, projects spread across several continents, yet his roots firmly planted in the city where he was born. Because it is precisely from those roots that his design philosophy continues to draw its inspiration. Over the last fifteen years he has lived with two passports. One was almost always tied up at embassies, securing the visas needed for his constant trips to the Middle East. The other allowed him to set off without waiting for the first one to return.
“Every time I was away, I felt the need to go home. For years I told myself: ‘What a provincial mindset’. Then I realised that work is a part of life, not life itself. When you move in certain circles, you risk thinking you belong there. In reality, you’re merely at their service. Returning to Florence brought me back down to earth.’ This is perhaps the most authentic key to understanding his story. Because international success has never changed his everyday life. The WhatsApp group with his primary school friends still exists. Every year they meet up for dinner. Some are painters and decorators, some drive ambulances, and some have chosen a life away from the spotlight. “For me, it’s essential. It’s what stops me from losing my sense of proportion.” Proportion. A word that comes up constantly during the conversation. For Dini, it’s much more than an architectural concept. It’s a way of looking at the world. It applies to a building. It applies to a city. It even applies to a career. “These days I see too much ego. When I started out, we wanted to create beautiful things, not become famous. There was a desire to be recognised for the quality of our work, not to appear in the newspapers.
The other day, an architect told me that the first thing asked on a building site was: ‘When are you going to write an article about me?’ It made me feel incredibly sad.” That detachment from self-centredness stems precisely from yacht design. A very rigorous school. Because on boats, more than anywhere else, you pay the price for every mistake. Space is limited. Every centimetre must serve a purpose. Every choice must improve the lives of those who will sail on it. “We’re no better than others. But we’re different. Yachting has taught me to always put the user of what I design at the centre. Not the designer.” It is a principle that would stay with him even when, after years spent exclusively in the maritime world, he decided to set foot on dry land. The opportunity arose with an international competition to design Sindalah, an entire private island in Saudi Arabia. Seated around the table were Foster + Partners, Zaha Hadid Architects, Ricardo Bofill and some of the biggest names on the international stage. Amidst them was a Florentine practice that had started out designing yachts.
“The others looked at me and said, ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ I replied, ‘I was invited.’” In the end, he won. Not a building. Not a neighbourhood. An entire island. Masterplan, harbours, marina, landscape, architecture, hotel. ‘On the journey home, I realised that everything was going to change.’ From that moment on, architecture became a permanent part of his work alongside yacht design. But the method remains the same. And it is precisely that method that brings him back home today. Because the project that excites him most isn’t in Saudi Arabia. It isn’t in the Caribbean. It isn’t even by the sea. It’s in Florence. Five hundred metres. Forty-two closed shops. A forgotten street. Via Palazzuolo. Here, Dini decides to do exactly what he has always done on boats. Not add to it. Simplify. Restore quality of life. These are the principles on which the Recreos project was born.
“People think it’s an architectural project. It isn’t. It’s a project for those who live on that street.” The carriageway is reimagined as a large, linear garden. The trees are returning. So are the benches. The paving recovers the Renaissance patterns depicted in the paintings housed in the Uffizi. Through QR codes and small information points, passers-by will be able to discover which work of art that geometric motif comes from. History steps out of the museum galleries and returns to engage with the city. It is not merely an urban project. It is a cultural project. But above all, it is a social one. The Fondazione Cassa di Risparmio di Firenze will fund the refurbishment of the shops and cover the first three years’ rent for the new artisan workshops. ‘Florence already has its luxury streets. I want to bring back the artisans – those who work with leather, glass and wood. They are the very identity of the city.’ The project that today, more than any other, embodies this vision is not to be found on the shores of the Red Sea or on an artificial island in the Persian Gulf.
“We are honoured to have been selected to carry out a commendable project that unites the local area with renewal. Recreos is, first and foremost, a gesture of care towards a part of the city to which we are deeply attached and which has been forgotten for far too long. Redeveloping Via Palazzuolo and Via Maso Finiguerra means restoring dignity to the urban space, but also revitalising the productive and social heart of Florence. We want this to become a vibrant street once more, built on relationships, small shops and outstanding craftsmanship that reflect the city’s most authentic identity.’ It is also a personal homecoming. “Our practice is currently involved in numerous international projects, from Sindalah Island in Saudi Arabia to the developments we’re working on in Albania. But our roots are here.
That’s why we’re thrilled to pool the experience we’ve gained around the world and give the community a revitalised space, one that helps people rediscover the value of community and neighbourhood life. It is probably the project I am most proud of.’ He undertook it pro bono. As a way of giving back. ‘Florence hasn’t given me anything in material terms. It has given me much more.
It has taught me how to look.’ For Dini, the city is a silent school. Every street teaches proportion. Every building, balance. Every square, scale. ‘I was talking about this with Brunello Cucinelli. He told me that we Florentines, simply by walking through the city, learn about the Renaissance without even realising it.’ It is this sense of proportion that he finds lacking in much contemporary architecture today. Too monumental. Too self-referential. Too focused on the gesture.
He recounts having stayed in a 450-square-metre presidential suite in Riyadh. After two nights, he asked to change rooms. ‘It was enormous. Absolutely beautiful. But I felt lonely. I asked for a normal room instead. That space was just trying to tell me I was important. It was completely out of proportion.’ It’s a reflection that applies to cities too. Preservation does not mean stagnation. Innovation does not mean destruction. A true project emerges when a balance is struck between memory and the future. That is why, in his view, Florence must have the courage to imagine itself in 2050. “Today we’re living too much on our laurels. I’d like to know what vision we have for the city in twenty-five years’ time.”
Perhaps this is precisely where the deepest meaning of his work lies. For Luca Dini, designing does not mean leaving one’s mark. It means leaving a place better than one found it. The yacht designer who made his name on the water now devotes his energies to a city that the sea cannot even see. And yet, Florence is probably the most important port he has ever docked at. Because Florence is an act of love.
Matteo Zaccagnino
