For visitors in any context, doors hold a special significance. As I worked my way through some of the archived materials from the University of Washington Italian Hilltowns Program housed in the Civita Institute’s Sala Grande, it was clear that I wasn’t the only one interested in doors and gates and windows. But a noticeable difference was the focus of the interest. Student projects documented architectural styles, details, age, and construction materials. My interests lay more along the lines of the enormous variety of doors in Civita. Every door seemed to have its own particular beauty that it carried along with its long, imagined history.

The ancient Romans had advanced architectural elements and were known to have used single, double, sliding, and folding doors. In fact, the Roman god Janus is the god of doors and doorways, which makes him of course, the god of beginnings and endings. So I began my discovery process with doors.

Doors also symbolize transitions. At the simplest level, a doorway represents movement from one place to another, but in religion, mythology and literature, it can also depict the passage from one world to another. A deeper personal meaning arises when doors, gates, and passageways serve as symbolic transitions for individuals experiencing change. Nearly everyone has a memory of stopping to take a deep breath before crossing some kind of threshold—an interview, a meeting with a teacher or mentor, or a dining room filled with laughing, happy people, none of whom we know.

Taking that step across a doorway means you’ve crossed a boundary. It might be a place where two places (or cultures or experiences) meet, or taking chances and leaving the past behind. These were all appropriate musings for a visitor in Civita and rich mapping material. In composition and layout, this map reflects these concepts of intimate and outsider; public or private as well as mapping locations and offering architectural styles and details.