The complexity of this work makes it advisable to consult the bibliography; here we shall merely give a factual description. The Brion tomb covers an area of about 200 square meters, forming an L-shaped site on two sides of the old San Vito cemetery. The obligation to purchase this large area compelled the client and the architect to change their original concept. Instead of building a small tomb, they decided on a work that would go beyond being a burial place for a single individual.

Along the axis marked by the main alley of the old cemetery stands the "propylaeum," whose elevation, rhythmically punctuated horizontally and vertically by the geometry of its line of embrasures, is screened by the curving boughs of a weeping willow. Within the rectangular structure, the blank walls of unfaced concrete, patterned by the rough boards of the formwork, are punctuated by smooth white stucco rectangles. Three steps located to the left of the axis interpose themselves between terraces of double height, leading down to a covered passage running at right angles to the entrance. This is the pathway to the tomb, on the left, and the pavilion, on the right. On the end wall, there is a pair of interlocking circles articulated in mosaic tiles arranged so that the order (pink on the left, blue on the right) remains the same within and without each circle, each bearing both colors. The dim light, screened vista, and use of symbolic forms shape and inflect this interior experience, while the absence of any obvious direction to follow foreshadows the ambiguity of a space marked by multiple perspectives. Outside the portico, different spaces are arranged without any of them being the goal, yet each relates to the others. To the left, at the sunniest point, the crossing of the two arms of the site, the tombs of the Brions, husband and wife, are placed within the circular space covered by the "arcosolium."

Below the concrete and bronze-plate bridge, the interior curve of which is faced in gilt and enamel mosaic tiles, the tombs are placed side by side, each with its block of light and dark-colored stone faced with rosewood, the names being inscribed in ivory and ebony. Apart, distanced by a broad lawn, are the tombs of relatives, protected by a square structure, the halves of its sloping roof asymmetrically converging at the top in a slit that lets in a beam of light. Inside, the concrete surface of this tent-cavern is covered with black panels fixed in place with bronze studs. Following the pathways inscribed on the ground at different levels along circuitous routes, one comes to the chapel, used for both family occasions and village funerals. A concrete cube, set at an angle of forty-five degrees to the axis of the pathway, is isolated by water, which surrounds it completely save for the two entrances on its opposite sides. The pyramidal roofing evokes ancient architectural motifs by way of Wrightian references. The paneled door has glossy white plasterwork lozenges articulated by a metal frame and leads into a small chamber where there is an almost completely circular opening into the intimate space of the chapel. The lighting is skillfully handled: the vertical window openings, with their concealed frames, admit light that mingles with the cone of brightness shed from above onto the altar and with the reflections of the water that enter through the slits in the corner behind the altar, at the height of the floor.

The indentations, a recurrent motif, unify the exterior and interior, air, matter, and water, inflecting the hollow wood ceiling, shaping the surfaces, dissolving profiles and becoming immersed in the lake. Behind the chapel are the priest's garden and cypress lawn. Beside this, in line with the access route to the old cemetery, is the second entrance, closed by a heavy concrete door resting on metal rollers. Returning to the "propylaeum" and following the direction away from the tomb, one comes to a path of concrete slabs, leading to a glass door which a mechanism submerges into the water below. This opens up the way to an island surrounded by the small lake and containing a pavilion, a double bow-shape supported on slender metal columns. On the water float a bed of flowers and a labyrinth-cross, another symbol of matter. The wall enclosing the whole area, sloping inward (except for the part around the lake), shows up the difference in levels between the cemetery and the countryside, accentuating its own function of opening up or closing off the view, separating and connecting. Perforated concrete blocks at the corners break up the continuity of the wall surface. Underlying the actual forms built are Scarpa's earlier designs, which clarify the significance of the final development, tracing its gradual refinement and also revealing how Scarpa went about his work. Initially, there was an orthogonal and axial grid determining the ground plan, which Scarpa then gradually deviated from by introducing asymmetries, oblique relationships, and off-axis elements. This procedure, while not limited to this specific instance, was here used with particular emphasis in working out the themes.

In analogous fashion to the formal structure, the funerary motif also underwent a process of physical and conceptual decentering. The orthogonal lines were distorted, the pathways set off-axis, and at the same time the nucleus with the clients' tombs moved farther away from the immediate and primary focus of interest it had occupied in the early plans. Moved away from a dominant position, it ceases to have privileged links with the other episodes of the complex: the footpath leading toward the pavilion disappears, while the water that at first seemed to well out from the circle around the tombs and flow elsewhere has now disappeared. It later will issue from an independent source, while still remaining the main link between the different components of the complex.

The multiplicity of places and end-points offered, which served to fragment the funerary theme from the very start, progressively opening it from the private dimension to the universal, thus result in an absence of any hierarchy, of any single predetermined direction. The initial funerary program is thus played down in a way consonant with Scarpa's innermost conceptions and his openness to non-European cultures. Parallel to this development of the design, and without contradicting its decompositional principle, one finds a simplification of forms through a progressive clarification of the general concept, especially in the chapel, whose final form was arrived at after passing through a number of stages, developing into an almost ovoid structure from the initial, obsessive motif of the interlocking circles.

Co, Francesco Dal, Carlo Scarpa: The Complete Works, Rizzoli , 1988