Design for a Fountain at a Street Corner Decorated with Putti Heads, a Coat of Arm and a Gargoyle Head on the Top 1735 - 1817

Curator: Immediately, I’m struck by the solemnity of it. The heavy stonework, the pale washes… it feels weighty, despite being a design. Editor: It is, isn't it? What we're viewing here is a drawing by Flaminio Innocenzo Minozzi, a Neoclassical design for a fountain intended for a street corner, dating sometime between 1735 and 1817. Curator: Neoclassical, yes, it embodies that return to idealized form. The precise rendering of the stone blocks, that carefully placed heraldic shield. Did it ever come to fruition, I wonder? It certainly exudes an air of authority and established power. Editor: It's unclear whether Minozzi's design was ever actually built. Still, as a conceptual drawing rendered in watercolor and print, it offers some pointed commentary about power, especially if we consider the gargoyle head. Water sources were sites of community gathering. By placing heraldry above access to it, this is explicitly excluding portions of the public. Curator: Exactly. Gargoyles, those fantastic figures, serve such a potent symbolic purpose. Originally functional, warding off evil and diverting water. But here, frozen into stone, above the water— almost a protective, watchful presence that could be frightening, or comforting, depending on your purpose near the water source. Editor: True. The coat of arms certainly reinforces a hierarchical vision. These sorts of images help underscore how access and distribution were heavily dictated, which seems increasingly at odds with contemporary ideas of civic duty and equitable access to resources. It speaks to historical inequalities still being navigated today. Curator: I agree entirely. And isn't it fascinating how a simple street fountain design, rendered on paper, can open up these much larger conversations about class, power, and accessibility that are still quite resonant? Editor: Precisely! Minozzi’s vision makes these conversations vital. Even in absentia. The drawing creates the space.