Words on the Site
-Barren
-Solitary
-Easily Influenced/ Imposed Upon
-Open
-Hard
-Expansive
-Utilitarian
-Irresolute to Surroundings
-Residual
-Hopeful
Words on What it can Become
-Useful
-Willful
-Unified
-Resolved with Nature and the City
-Populated
-Appreciated
-A Lens for Nature and the City
-Alive, Soulful
-Communicative
- A "Place"
Sunday, March 28, 2010
The Saenger Theater - A Sense of Place
It is really hard to think of a good place that has 'place.' After thinking for a while, and still not completely settled on this example, I am going to start with the Saenger Theater on Canal Street in New Orleans. The theater is evocative of another era, and I feel that distinguishes it from other, similar facilities. I also feel that the theater has place because it can transport whoever is inside of the theater to another world. By that I mean it is easy to forget all of the surroundings that impress someone when they enter, but when the show starts, it is easy for all of it to fade away instead of turning into background noise. Just as when I read a really good book, I stop noticing that I am actually looking at black type on white pages, the book transforms into something else. I think that is what good architecture can do. It becomes the purveyor of information. It is all that creates space. It can be simultaneously present and invisible.
I think that 'place' is a word to describe what architecture can make a person respond, or how it makes someone participate or interact in space. A 'place' like Wal-mart doesn't make me want to do anything (except to run screaming sometimes). But the Saenger Theater makes me do certain things. There has always been a certain sense of excitement, or knowing that I was going somewhere special on days I got to go to the theater. When you finally get to the theater, I feel like it makes you notice things. I love how tall the lobby is, and how the mezzanine levels feel sometimes large and sometimes comfortable. But my favorite thing to do is to look up at the ceiling in the main theater space. I can never decide if I can see it or if it is invisible. Sometimes I think it looks like a really dark cloudy night sky, sometimes it looks like nothing.
The last reason I picked the Saenger theater, is because I wish it was still open. I is disappointing that the experience of being in a place like that is not possible. Hopefully in the coming months the renovations of the theater will finally be complete, and it can again welcome people to its own particular world, and the places that world can take us.
I think that 'place' is a word to describe what architecture can make a person respond, or how it makes someone participate or interact in space. A 'place' like Wal-mart doesn't make me want to do anything (except to run screaming sometimes). But the Saenger Theater makes me do certain things. There has always been a certain sense of excitement, or knowing that I was going somewhere special on days I got to go to the theater. When you finally get to the theater, I feel like it makes you notice things. I love how tall the lobby is, and how the mezzanine levels feel sometimes large and sometimes comfortable. But my favorite thing to do is to look up at the ceiling in the main theater space. I can never decide if I can see it or if it is invisible. Sometimes I think it looks like a really dark cloudy night sky, sometimes it looks like nothing.
The last reason I picked the Saenger theater, is because I wish it was still open. I is disappointing that the experience of being in a place like that is not possible. Hopefully in the coming months the renovations of the theater will finally be complete, and it can again welcome people to its own particular world, and the places that world can take us.
The LaSalle Parking Garage - Site
The upper most deck of the parking garage, in the bright sunlight, reminded me of a desert - begging for an oasis.
It seems like the anti-site. The ground is already covered with a structure. The structure extends to an appropriate place for the block, not making me feel like the building is pushing me into the street.
From the ground floor, the garage seems just like most other parking structures - nearly irrelevant and unexciting. I say nearly irrelevant, because it is utilitarian and due to someone's care to give it a skin separate from its structure it is not meant to be completely overlooked.
From the upper deck, the street disappears. The vantage point seems to beg the viewer to look as far out as they can. When I chose to climb close to the rail to look straight down, I felt it was an unnatural vantage point. I noticed that I held onto my sunglasses, and held my camera differently.
The rigidity of the grid on the upper deck seems inhospitable for additional construction. When standing on the upper deck in the sun, I felt a bit confused. The sun was shining so brightly, and there was no refuge from the heat of it beating on me. But, it is also windy up there. It magnifies both the heat and the cold.
I like the description of this site as devoid of all place. However, after spending time surveying the deck, it was much easier to sit on the ground and spread out my things, making myself comfortable in a very odd way - I was sitting on the ground in a parking lot, with no intention of moving anywhere fast. I think it's like making a new friend. Before one really gets to know a new person, there is always an apprehension of what may or may not be deemed appropriate. Then after there is a deeper knowledge of the new person, the lines of appropriateness are blurred. I guess that is why it only sounds weird to say I was sitting on the ground in a parking lot because it felt natural at the time.
I like the dichotomy of the river and the city at this anti- place. I feel like it inspires creativity, rather than forces it.
It seems like the anti-site. The ground is already covered with a structure. The structure extends to an appropriate place for the block, not making me feel like the building is pushing me into the street.
From the ground floor, the garage seems just like most other parking structures - nearly irrelevant and unexciting. I say nearly irrelevant, because it is utilitarian and due to someone's care to give it a skin separate from its structure it is not meant to be completely overlooked.
From the upper deck, the street disappears. The vantage point seems to beg the viewer to look as far out as they can. When I chose to climb close to the rail to look straight down, I felt it was an unnatural vantage point. I noticed that I held onto my sunglasses, and held my camera differently.
The rigidity of the grid on the upper deck seems inhospitable for additional construction. When standing on the upper deck in the sun, I felt a bit confused. The sun was shining so brightly, and there was no refuge from the heat of it beating on me. But, it is also windy up there. It magnifies both the heat and the cold.
I like the description of this site as devoid of all place. However, after spending time surveying the deck, it was much easier to sit on the ground and spread out my things, making myself comfortable in a very odd way - I was sitting on the ground in a parking lot, with no intention of moving anywhere fast. I think it's like making a new friend. Before one really gets to know a new person, there is always an apprehension of what may or may not be deemed appropriate. Then after there is a deeper knowledge of the new person, the lines of appropriateness are blurred. I guess that is why it only sounds weird to say I was sitting on the ground in a parking lot because it felt natural at the time.
I like the dichotomy of the river and the city at this anti- place. I feel like it inspires creativity, rather than forces it.
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