Brink

I wanted to make an intervention in a space that isn’t incredibly compelling to linger in because of the condition of the ground, a gravel and cigarrette butt covered surface. A small hole that reflected to be a deep space was the intion and I got the permit to dig a hole and on the day I was supposed to install the piece, the site was taped off by construction workers, so I wasn’t able to actually install it in the ground. However the phenomonon of the double mirrors functions and the space held between the mirrors makes an interesting illusion of depth and form.

Alvar Aalto

 

Aalvar Aalto is a Danish Architect and he did not grow up in an urban setting. Instead he was exposed to the nature and trees of Finland, “You should not be able to go from home to work without passing through a forest,” he said. Aalto’s father was a surveyor, and Aalto credits his young exposure to the process of measuring and recording the ground, his father’s occupation, as being a catalyst for his interest in designing space. This background contributes to the sense of his buildings being a part of the ground, and coming up from it or working with it.

There are several of his projects where his architecture works with the existing or constructed ground to ascend up to his building.  One of his projects is Säynätsalo Town Hall. This building was assigned to me during our architectural analysis class. Our techer at the time told us, “Either love or hate your building, but have an opinion about it,” and I love it. Aalto used a preexisting slope of earth to nestle part of the building into, and constructed the oppsite side of the building as a retaining wall. The building wraps this elevated courtyard, creating an intimate space for occupation and for sunlight to reach the interior space. The sloping  ground of the terraced earth and steps reminds me of a hillside, or as Aalto said, he was inspred by Greek and Roman amphitheaters. I also see that the tower is almost like a mountain, where the important function of the council chamber is. Another way that this project exhibits a connection to nature is that his use of vertical mullions references trees and light filtering into the circulation corridor. This outdoor room, this void, has a presence despite its absence.

Aalto uses the typology of a courtyard in many of his projects. The form appears in several of his projects as a square more or less. This square in plan is a cube in volume, and it is adjacent to an entrance and exiting. The idea of transforming a threshold into a destination, a design that causes people to pause within it is an interesting spatial idea to me. His project Experimental House would cause me to pause if I were able to visit it. Through a use of a variety of tiles and bricks, Aalto creates interesting textures and patterns. Though this project is considered a test piece for other projects such as Säynätsalo Town Hall, I think the texture and patterning is quite beautiful.

Another project where Aalto creates a space for people is somewhat different than these two previous examples. Baker House is a dormitory at MIT, and the commons room shares the cubic form of these previous spaces, but it is an interior space. Still, it is appearant that Aalto has a strong interest in creating a place for people to meet in and to be with one another. The quality of light in the space is one way I think he worked to make the space desirable. Though an interior room, the sun is allowed to fall down into the space for light, and I find it quite beautiful that he uses these same holes to bring in light at night through artififcial lights above the same windows.

I appreciate Aalto’s sensitivity to materials and light, and his ability to create a space for people to be together in.       

Lemon

Paper cuts fear them and cars fear to be them. They are a tart, pucker-inducing, fruit. It is the fruit that lines the rim of your water glass when you are eating out, whether you want it to or not. Squeeze its sour liquid into your glass, summer’s zing, the acidic-zip permeates your taste. Its zest, a refreshing cleanse. It appears distinctive in color and shape from its citrus relatives, cheeky-little green lime (facing disease in Mexico), engorged aunt grapefruit (waiting to go under the knife), and father Florida orange (hard pressed). Before it was picked and wedged onto your glass it gripped onto a branch, its form that of a puckered football, its color, that of a canary.

 

Intervention

I’m not sure what my intervention should be yet…

Watching a balloon become a speck, and pulling it back.

Pulling a mass out of the ground.

Site Intervention

Through burying mirrors lightly into the gravel, a subtle intervention along a pedestrian path reflects the sky. The mirror apertures ranged from three inches to one half of an inch. Walking past, a viewer might take notice the unexpected blue or reflected light buried into the earth, while others could mistake the mirrors for water, or walk past it while looking at their cell phones, completely missing the installation.

Site Visit

The site I am interested in appears to be used for smoking breaks, not because I saw smokers using it, but because I noticed cigarette butts littering the gravel. I photographed the area while I sat on a bench – to the right is another bench, and behind is Benefit Street. I am interested in revealing this space through defining an edge or boundary. An intervention might include drawing on the gravel,  placing pegs into the ground and running yarn between them, or moving  things already present: stones, branches and cigarette butts.

Morning Bedrooms

Dreams in your Mind

Earliest Memory

Dark and light converging, the warm yellow spotlights illuminating dots of dancing colors: red, blue, white, and black. The black dots were larger than the rest, and there were two of them, bouncing, dancing. Pluto, Minnie, Donald, Daisy, Mickey, goofing around. I was at the House of Mouse. I am perched high, peering over the audience from my grandfather’s shoulders. My chubby, young knees, knocking into his long, old ears. His glasses mirroring the light of the stage, now the flashing of a camera. A portrait of my grandfather and I is printed and in focus, but what existed beyond the frame remains a hazy memory.