Monday, May 30, 2011

Inside Out, Part 2

So after all the ranting over my disenfranchisement from the average interior, here's the kicker: I am in a position to have significant input into the interior design, furnishings and artistic commissions pertaining to a new worship space in the city. And I find this exciting!

The space itself is a renovated interior, and a damned complicated interior at that. It is an atrium constructed in the center of a mid-60's elementary school building. It has an off-center inverse-peak concrete ceiling, two lines of skylight windows set vertically above the roofline on the north and south sides, walls of  brick tile and concrete block, and a cement floor. It was for a long time subdivided for classroom space; we recently removed the interior walls and exposed quite a lot of added ductwork, sprinkler pipe and cabling. The acoustics are chaotic. The whole room is not two-storied; the central portion is, but about one-third of the square footage is actually beneath a one-story overhang.

The overall space is almost-symmetrical from every direction, but there is no perfect orientation. Since we will likely site the altar on the East wall, the asymmetry will only be noticeable if one looks up, given the off-center inverse roofline: picture an inverted triangle, one side slightly longer than the other, its peak pointing down at you. Its the Sword of Damocles, that roof! Though fortunately well above the casual sightline. We plan to suspend much of the lighting, which will be a trial for the installers but will "even out" the upper portion of the space in some degree. We may stick with hard flooring versus carpet, but will shim out the walls to soften the sound, soften the look, make space for wiring and audio, etc. We also plan to build simple walls and track lighting under the overhangs to create space for art to be shown there.

The design team is struggling a bit with the architect. Enough said about that.

Worship space. Suitable for varying congregations from four different faith backgrounds -- Lutheran, East-African Seventh Day Adventist, Hispanic Pentacostal, Black Charismatic. It's the Lutherans building the space, paying for it. We really do want everyone to be comfortable there, even inspired.

Sounds complicated, doesn't it?

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Inside Out Part 1

Something I have known for a while -- years -- is again brought home to me: I don't engage with interior spaces. The vast majority of memorable places I have been, those I can recall, memories I cherish years later -- are outdoor places. Landscapes, parks, bridges, vacant lots, city streets, skyways (interior?), woodlands, etc. I don't easily visualize renovations to interior space -- paint changes, walls removed or added, windows widened, etc. I can't see these possibilities, with my mind's eye, or my body, the way I can see a woven wall-hanging in an atrium or a font in the sanctuary. I don't love interiors. I can admire them, and prefer some furnishings over others -- but the real aspects of interior are largely abstract to me, and I see this in my workplace now that I'm involved with the efforts of both architects and landscape engineers.

To be randomly specific -- I hate chairs. I have chronic pain in my lower back, and all chairs are of the devil. I sit in front of the computer typing, a large portion of each day, and this is likewise of the devil. All chairs are crap.

Work surfaces are crap. Though I like high tables, like library tables, and chairs (stools) that match. Someplace to put my feet. A clean surface to work on. Large. Everything else is crap.

Lamps are crap. Fluorescent lights in particular.

Give me natural light, big wide spaces with stone-like boundaries and comfortably natural textures. Give me the feeling that I am outside -- not with the bugs or the bright hot sun, necessarily, but outside and free to fly.

Give me a bike I can ride.

Saturday, May 14, 2011




Martha Graham and the "Blessed Unrest"

No Artist Is Pleased"That seems like the kind of thoughts that lead to heavy drinking and permanent despair. Or maybe it’s just a matter of how you look at things. I read “No artist is pleased” and I start thinking words like failure, discouraged, dismayed. But I’m not sure that’s what Graham meant; or, maybe more important, I’m not sure that’s the way we should take it. We don’t live in a black-and-white world: saying you aren’t happy doesn’t logically mean that you are sad. There are many, many, many emotions on the spectrum to get a person from one end to the other. Graham goes on to call this a “blessed unrest.” -- a reporting from the Missouri Review.