Wednesday, September 30, 2009
diagraming the forest, bas-relief

Pentheus pursued by the Maenads.
In the background, the civilized world, things are black and white, very distinct. It is a world of abstract distinctions.
In the forest, distinctions, between all things-- sacred and profane, culture and nature, human and animal-- become indistinct.
This situation in the forest reveals how the Maenads are no longer completely human in their context/state, but also how Pentheus, having wandering into the forest, is not completely human himself, or how he is reminded of his disturbing origins. This is exaggerated by the chiaroscuro, the lack of distinction, or coexistence of, black and white-- the Maeneds are dark (representing the darkness of the forest and primordial origins), barely lit by light. Pentheus runs toward the light of civilization. He is almost illuminated, but not entirely. And we know he's not going to make it.
site/context model
Last month, we looked at 19th-century maps of the University of Virginia that indicated the presence of springs on Observatory Hill. Using GIS, we located these springs and hiked to them, on the way encountering an overgrown road. This encounter with the road, a ghost of the University's former infrastructure, was remarkable, and the the spring (especially after having dredged it up from a crumbling, 19th-century document) seemed almost supernatural.
I began looking for natural armatures and human-made armatures in the landscape using GIS and aerial photographs of the University. This image from 1937 was amazing:
It was amazing because, if you look closely, you can see myriad roads and paths crossing Observatory Hill, where almost none exist today, save for the loop that encircles the observatory itself. After overlaying GIS data and old maps, I discovered that several of the old roads led to the spring. Current roads have been re-routed and evade, or encircle, the spring.
In my model I was thinking about several things.
1. The idea of a lost engagement with the natural hydrology of site, on Observatory Hill and also below, across the University. In the model, I indicated water (springs, Meadow Creek, old ponds) in copper wire/foil. You can see, in the spots I covered with vellum, where extreme "editing" has been done--re-routing of the creek with pipes, covering of the creek with tennis courts, etc. Also, the re-routed roads (in black wire) diverge from former roads (in silver wire), in a way that indicates an avoidance of the natural water system.
2. The severance of the strong east-west connection that used to exist, linking the Lawn to an orchard, via Observatory Hill, by a major highway (constructed in the 60s). Not only is the link cut, but there is currently nothing on the other side of the hill to link the lawn too. The former orchards and agricultural lands have become dead zones (you can see an orchard is also a now a patch covered with vellum, part of the "editing process").
3. The boundaries of the hill are also part of this editing. Observatory Hill shrinks as it is developed.
I love the idea of Roman roads criss-crossing northern Europe. The idea that you can uncover an ancient infrastructure, not only informed by a completely imperial/axial organizational logic, but also the product of a pagan, pre-Christian civilization. This is how so many German and English fairy tales begin. The protagonist walks into the forest (as one would walk into the forest of Observatory Hill) and stumbles upon some infrastructural relic of a past, pagan empire. You walk down the Roman road and odd things begin to happen, encounters with Pan, nymphs, gingerbread houses. I like the idea that you could stumble across one of these old University roads, follow it, and encounter a spring, which is such a symbolic and, like I said, almost supernatural-feeling landform. The rest of the creek has been almost completely covered, but the source is hidden in the woods and accessible, if you happen to find the right, almost hidden route.
Monday, September 21, 2009
using them anyway


STRUCTURE PROPOSAL - INHABITING AGRICULTURAL FOLDS
We are trying to create an inhabitable space that is agriculturally productive.
The structure is a field of linear strips that bend in response to the path of the sun to create dynamic agricultural microclimates and inhabitable spaces.
The structure is set on the south-facing slope of the site.
The bending in response to the sun creates:
embarrassing vocabularies of past lives
JT: How do we describe this thing? "Moving?" "Adjusting?" "Dynamic?"
SD: No. I hate that word.
JT: God, so do I. It reminds me of college. You know those words you overused in college that make you embarrassed every time you say them?
KT: Like "irony?"
SD: Oh, irony's more than just college.
JT: No, like "unremarkable." "Unevocative."
SD: That's Chicago for you. Words to describe apathy.
JT: They're actually from the UMass years.
Friday, September 11, 2009
first pin-up of semester
The results after less than 3 weeks of studio....

This project involved drawing (1:1 drawings of texture, light conditions and topography), modeling (collage, 2-D and 3-D cardboard and paper models) and diagramming the seams between pairs of fields (black paper/tree bark, and then ground/ground, sky/ground) and then inserting a program into the "site" (what we ended up with after blowing up a 24"x24" patch containing the two fields, 1"=10')-- a subterranean room for the storage of telescopes and a viewing platform for stargazing.
I looked at two qualities/themes throughout-- the interwoven-ness and mirroring of the sky/ground fields.
2-D seam models representing: third, horizontal element weaving together two fields; black paper field becoming linear element that defines elements of bark field as figures
texture drawings of two field conditions, grass and bark
Weaving was a consistent technique used to conceptualize and represent connections and relationships (such a figure/field shifts and reversals-- or in this case, field/field oscillations), as well as hierarchy, density and directionality. After digging a section cut into the topography at the patch of ground, an intricately woven set of links between the horizontal qualities of sky and soil layers revealed itself in the form of grass and grass roots, vertical connectors between the two fields (sky/ground).
collage reflecting interwoven qualities of site elements
To enter the program, one descends stairs into the underground room and then, when stepping onto the platform, finds herself suspended in the canopy, between sky and ground. By taking advantage of the gradient of the site, the horizontal layer of ground that is extended into the air and woven through the canopy is, at the same time, a vertical path that traces the connection a tree makes between the two fields, advancing from the underground root upwards toward the treetops and sky.
diagrams of sky/field/tree relationships, initial program schemes
There is mirroring of sky and ground structured by the trees and their roots, which is best shown in the model. Once the other ground condition is met, though, the above- and below-ground conditions change and the connection is lost. At the end of the platform is a transparent floor, below which is a reflecting pool. At that moment, the ground is underfoot but the sky is "under ground." Through this inversion, the distinction between fields is confused and, through optical rather than structural mirroring, the connection between sky and ground is reestablished.






