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.

Model showing road (old and new) and hydrological systems of the site.

Former connection between spring and Lawn highlighted.

The spring (copper point). Former connections to spring (in silver) indicating past engagement with natural water flows (mirrored on campus) and current routes (in black) showing a lost connection, or an evasion.