The site I chose is the state arsenal. I was drawn to the mysterious and reserved qualities of the building. My goal was to use visual barriers to change a person sense of being inside and outside.
To see what the building sees, one must climb up the side of the building, slowly and quietly to not disturb the beast. When reaching the top, the viewer becomes aware of his vulnerable location. First, the observer takes a moment to peer out into the landscape and feels connected with the elements. Then, they peer into “the eye,” seeing the world through the restrictive eye of the building. The viewer then suddenly becomes distant from the outside world while feeling protected behind the small opening of “the eye.” The building and “the eye” work in harmony to create the sense of vulnerability on the outside and protection on the inside.
photography by: Julian Uribe
One could identify a space with only few of its inherent elements. The element that overwhelms our sensory takes hierarchy over the others becoming the sole identifier nested within our memory. And, our brain would render the environment around us irrelevant if we are pre-occupied with other intentions.
It is a working space, where, noises of all sort of machineries reverberating between masonry walls overwhelms everyone’s sensory experience; where, their foot path are hindered by the clustered of items scattering over the uneven ground. People who are just passing by would want to get away from the space as soon as they can, then, people who work in the space would not care other than what’s at hand. Almost no one stops; stays still noticing the irregularity of the air travelling pass their ear, the light that animates the shadow moving across the masonry surface. When you stand still for a second, it is a surprisingly charming space, and after a while, you would remember it differently although you might have worked in the space for years.
A serene and lightly reflective sail hang across the narrow space, specially anchored to create a hyperbolic paraboloid surface catching both the air and light. It is alien to the messy work space below the sail, making people stop and stare, and realize the existence and importance of the ignored elements, making the animation of the space whole again.
‘An tangerine that is too yellow and has a weird growth on the end of it’, this is my first impression of a lemon. You might grow up with the presence of the lemon from the day that you started to remember. Though, they are as strange to me as a spaceship from outer space for my first encounter with it. I couldn’t really remember when I first saw a lemon, but they are fascinating fruits to me at the time, part of which is because that I don’t know what to do with them. Do you eat them like a tangerine, peel them, and enjoy the moon shape pebbles inside? I’ve tried and it didn’t work! The skins are hard and thick. No way I could penetrate them with my finger. And what’s with the smell, so sour! Cut it open and the juicy spread the sourness across the entire room. Terrible things, who would eat fruit that are this sour, the tangerines are so much better! Fast forward to the present, how ironic that now I couldn’t live my life without them. Sautés, cake, tea, water even, they are fantastic giving just the right amount of acidity with that lovely refreshing smell, leaving me wondering why I don’t mind the ‘terrible’ sourness anymore. How things could change and how time flies. A lemon doesn’t change, but certainly for me, it somehow marked part of who I am today.