Do you ever think of the spaces that you inhabit? The cafe? Your room? Your bathroom? Yes, basically everything is a “space.” But what defines a “space?” I would say that a space is a place that we inhabit in which its limits are usually defined by some sort of marking or is simply distinguished from other places via barriers. With that sort of Apparently, for example, a space can be private or public, or inviting versus uninviting. But what exactly makes us feel these certain vibes from these things we call “space” around us? Let’s ask these questions in terms of a garden.
A garden is typically defined as “a piece of ground, often near a house, used for growing flowers, fruit, or vegetables.” Fair enough, this is stereotypically its function. But, gardens can be self-owned, or it can be owned and shared by an institution. So what kind of space is a garden? Is it a public space, or is it private? What are your thoughts about this question? And what other spaces can be similarly questioned? Comment your thoughts! 🙂
Tag: Architecture
From Bauhütte to Bauhaus
The other day, I was surveyed about the recent renovations of university residence halls. The questions varied from “how do students use the public spaces?” to “which amenities are inhibiting the academic success of residents?” By and large, my responses were positive. I believe the residence halls at this university are top-tier–clean, functional, and beautiful. Of course there are always areas for improvement, but the general concept of the renovations is on point. I started to think about why this was. All of them seemed to embrace modern design elements–such as high ceilings, stone floors, light colors, and lots of glass. For those unfamiliar with the new buildings, here’s a representative (-ish) picture:
Of course, anything defined as “modern” is  appealing in a contemporary sense–as it implies new, current, fresh, “in style,” etc. But a common fear is thus: Does modern design last in the long haul? Surely the style must go out of date. I’ve thought about this for a while, and I’m starting to think this isn’t the case. What we know to be modern design has a very functional nature associated it with it–it often strips to the essentials and focuses on the materials used. It abides by the “form follows function” principle–triggered by the birth of Bauhaus in the early 20th century.
Bauhaus design was sparked as a design principle in 1919  by the Staatliches Bauhaus (School of Building) in Germany. The design institute was focused on employing art for practical purposes–breathing beauty into the mundane. Furniture and buildings for the everyday person became more accessible and aesthetically pleasing. Daily interactions were streamlined, inline with the idea that people would be empowered by this ubiquitous support. The most current embodiment of these principles is in the digital realm. Most web design follows these principles, turning the fundamentalist web of the 1990s into the slick user interfaces of today.
But where did Bauhaus design stem? The focus on beautiful, facilitated mundanity was appropriated from the mason’s guild of the Bauhütte. This collective of journeymen took part in the design of Gothic cathedrals. This trade did not focus on design for everyday items and activities, and this is where the Bauhaus school diverged.
Cathedrals, in their very design, focus on something this is above and beyond our daily existence. The spires of the buildings point toward the heavens, illustrating how our collective efforts on earth are directed toward our Creator. We can only receive support and empowerment from a force this is outside ourselves. This is the belief held by the Baumeisters, and their cathedrals illustrate it. The Bauhaus school, on the other hand, liked the idea of design affording empowerment, but manipulated the design principles to not support a higher power but personal power. It was an agnostic perspective that drove innovative design into many facets of our existence. While much of modern design has lost touch with this idea of user empowerment–we often design “modernly” to conform to trends–the benefits of good design in pragmatic circumstances has pushed us further. We’ve accomplished greater feats technologically and (arguably) socially than previous civilizations, and a small part of this can be attributed to the democratizing force of Bauhaus design. In order for this school of thought to be effective, though, we must not lose sight of the power of design. It should not simply make something beautiful. It should be merely pragmatic. It should strive to change a user’s thoughts–to become empowered and respect the power of others, seen and unseen.
The residence hall renovations at Michigan may have been a simple conformity to design trends. But maybe they could be leading to something greater.
Modern Sensibility for KIDS
Seems like more artists have been making waves in house-related art! Â A group of architects was recently commissioned to design dollhouses in the styles of their choosing. Â If you think you know what a dollhouse should look like, guess again.
These houses were on display at the London Design Festival last month and were auctioned off to raise money for the children’s disability charity KIDS.
And you know what is even better than art raising money for charity? Â Art directly influencing charitable causes. Â Each house was required to contain “a unique feature to make life easier for a child who is disabled.”
How cool is that?
What I love about each of the designs is the abstractness that still maintains its functionality.
Children with their uninhibited imaginations, can make playhouses out of anything. Â Blankets, couches, and some string have made for some of the best (not to mention coziest) residences of my life. Â What I love most about this endeavor, is that it brings modern architecture (and modern aesthetics) into the consciousness of youngsters and also raises the public’s consciousness of children with disabilities.
When I was young there seemed to be a stigma around modern and abstract art (not to mention a major one around kids with disabilities that still persists today). Â Both modern art and disabled people can be labeled as inaccessible, or foreign, and as something that only a small niche of society can appreciate. Â These dollhouses demonstrate that the niche of modernism can extend beyond the adult age group and that modern art can be something useful and pedagogical. Â It can be integrated into the everyday activities of four and five year-olds and be something that sticks with them all their life.
Who knows? Â One of these dollhouse designs may inspire the next charitable Frank Lloyd Wright.
Functionality Over Taste
This weekend, I attended a conference with a group called InterVarsity, which took place in enemy territory. That’s right, I went to East Lansing, home of MSU. Besides the fact that I was unable to wear anything from the maize side of my closet and I saw a LOT of green, I noticed a few things about the hotel I stayed in.
Pointed out to me by my (new) friend Mary, art student extraordinaire, the conference center and hotel was beautiful. From the way the sinks were designed, to the calming waterfall welcoming guests into what will hopefully be a home away from home, the layout was appealing, stylish, and modern. I noticed small touches, such as the way the comfortable chairs were placed near large windows, were the sunlight could filter in and provide a pleasant atmosphere when having a chat with friends. I enjoyed the placement of a revolving door, optional next to the regular door yet still an instillation that made the institution feel like a hotel. Yes, as Mary said, the architecture was great.
So that makes it artful, right?
When going to wash my hands, I had no idea where to place the complimentary bar of soap. When I found it could be tucked between the faucet handle and the raised edge of the sink, I felt proud…until it slipped of back into the sink.
Put on, slip off.
Put on, slip off.
The fountain, while gorgeous, spanned two stories. The water fell from the main lobby into the garage floor, into a pool with…what kind of sculpture? Really, what is that supposed to be? Did they actually pay money for that?
And why in the world would I want to look at a bale of hay right before I’m supposed to slip into pleasant dreams filled with friendship, laughter and rainbows? Hay is not particularly calming to me. In fact, I really don’t like hay (too many encounters on Rodeo Day. This is what I get for growing up in Texas).
All of these things culminated into a single question that both my friend Mary and another friend of mine Dean posed: Does art HAVE to have a reason?
In this case, I would solidly argue with yes, since a hotel is primarily functional rather than artful. I’m not sure if I necessarily agree all the time, but every time I’ve encountered art, either in audio or visual form, it’s made a clear statement. Deep? Maybe not. But a clear idea, theme, statement, whatever you have it? Yeah.
So I’m not sure what statement the bale of hay was trying to make. But hopefully, it was making a statement, and I just happened to miss it.
Interview with a Southerner: Oak Alley Plantation
For Fall Break I went on an amazing (and delicious) mini-vacation with my mom to help celebrate her fiftieth birthday in New Orleans. Â Both of us are huge francophiles and relished every French detail that we took in during our stay.
On the Saturday of our trip we ventured out of the city to Oak Alley Plantation, a gorgeous estate that was built to do exactly what it did to us. Â It was built by a man to lure his wife away from the thrills of New Orleans. Â The guide said the wife was not impressed though my mom and I could barely keep our mouths closed as we walked wide-eyed through every hall and corridor, including the super famous alley of 28 oaks (all of which are 300 years old, which is roughly middle age in oak years).
Oak Alley was built between 1837-1839, as a typical Greek Revival antebellum-era plantation complete with massive doric columns, high ceilings, and stark white chunky crown molding around the edge of the ceilings.
This picture doesn’t do it justice. Â In terms of scale, it is the opposite of the ramshackle homes that are still being revived in New Orleans. Â The wrap-around second floor porch alone could fit several one-room homes around it.
We also toured their slave quarters where the names of all the Oak Alley slaves were posted on the wall, along with clothes, cooking utensils, and shackles.
Slave quarters are always unsettling to me, especially in light of the fact that 50 feet away lies an entirely different world. Â I always feel guilty walking through these things. Â Like I need to apologize to someone or donate some of my things to make a better life for someone. Â However, it made me glad that they had taken the time to preserve the details about the lives of the people who built Oak Alley and not just those who enjoyed its delicacies.
After the slave quarters, we toured the house, which was magnificent and beautiful with its interior Greek revival style.
This was my favorite room because of the blue and green that seemed to bring nature inside. Â I also loved the heavy, sweeping effect of the drapery around the beds and windows. Â After learning about the history of the family, involving sickness, death, and amputations, I saw these rooms as more than paint and fabric.
Our guide that day was an amputee. Â She later told us that she lost her right arm from the elbow down in a car accident twelve years ago. Â But that wasn’t the first thing I noticed about her. Â The first thing I noticed was that she was warm and lovely and seemed completely at ease. She had the brightest smile with a prominent gap in her two front teeth and the blackest hair that was elegantly pulled back into an intricate bun. Â And she knew a lot about the family history of Oak Alley.
For one, after the Civil War, the plantation was economically not sustainable. Â This did not surprise me at all. The sheer magnitude of the 25 acre plantation and the ‘big house’ as it was called could not be sustained by anything besides free labor. Â In 1866 it was sold for $32,800.
The house was not restored until 1922, but when it was, a trust was established so that more renovations and also archeological work could be done. Â Air conditioning, electricity, and other ‘modern comforts’ were added without changing any of the aesthetics of the house.
When our tour was done, my mom and I decided that we are glad to be out of the era of slave labor, but were grateful to take part in the preservation of architectural styles and human stories, both those of the plantation owners and the slaves. Â If you get a chance to ever go, I highly recommend it!
Art (Un)Appreciation: The Most Under-appreciated Art Forms
In the commercial world, not all art is created equal.  Action films may not be the first thing one thinks of when one thinks of “Art†with a capital ‘A’, but they rake in enough money and have lasted through time long enough to have earned a spot as a filmic genre that isn’t leaving the mainstream any time soon.
On the other hand, other forms of art, such as slam poetry, may be older in form, but rake in little value as commercial commodities. Â So for this week, I want to highlight a few areas of art that I think are underappreciated, under attended, and in many cases, underfunded.
Slam Poetry
Poetry is often viewed as a nebulous and exclusive art only created by people who speak a different language from the everyday. Â But after viewing my first slam performance, my own perception of poetry changed. Â Instead of viewing it as something flowery, abstract, and confusing, I saw it as something gritty and tangible and as close to the everyday as spoken words can be. Â Ann Arbor and the University have loads of slam poetry competitions and many English Ph D students who would be happy to hear that someone is curious about their work. Â If you have never considered slam poetry as something entertaining or even as something within your reach as a non-English major, watch this classic slam poetry performance by Taylor Mali on why he teaches.
Opera
Once praised as the highest form of theatrical and musical entertainment, opera is now only frequently by the old and classically trained set.  When a new book or movie comes out, wordsmiths are not flocking to turn it into an opera.  A musical, maybe, but never opera.  It’s understandable that opera falls into the same foreign language category as foreign films, but if you ever get a chance to experience opera in any language, I recommend that you take it.
For one, you will never hear live vocals that have the same range, control, and variation as opera singers. Â To be classically trained means that a singer has definite musical chops. Â With their arduous hours of classical training, opera singers are like the Navy SEALs of singing. Â They have lived through hell week and they are constantly stretching the limits of human abilities on a daily basis.
If you think opera is a stuffy art form that doesn’t interest you, I recommend at least checking out some of the great arias (even if it’s just a sample on Youtube…like this one).  And FYI, an aria is any piece of operatic scoring with a vocalist who can be either accompanied or unaccompanied by instruments. Aria is melodic and sounds like music, while recitative is closer to spoken word.
Architecture
Granted, architecture is a very broad category and encompasses many artistic movements and geographic influences. Â But people are affected by architects and architectural choices every day. Â If you live in a house, you are affected by architecture. Â If you go to work in any building, then you are guided through the building by architectural intentions. Luckily, Ann Arbor is full of architectural gems. From the Oxfordian Law School to the imposing Power Center, there are loads of revival styles that mesh together to create the world of the University of Michigan. Not to mention the Big House, which is not merely a sports beacon of the ‘leaders and best’ but is also a solid feat of architectural engineering.
Graffiti
An art that is centuries older than oil painting, cinema, and dub-step, graffiti is not only under-appreciated, in many cases it is condemned.
My question is: have city planners ever considered the thought ‘If you can’t beat ‘em, hire ‘em’? What a collaboration that would be.  Imagine if cities picked their best Graffiti artists to do rotating coverage of certain city surfaces.  Or even temporary coverage of places deemed for destruction. If you want to experience some great graffiti in A2, then check out Graffiti Alley.
Garden/Landscape Art
I wanted to take a Chinese Landscape class this semester, but it didn’t pan out.  I will be the first to say that I don’t know the first thing about landscape art or design, whether it be English, French, or Chinese.  However, the older I get and the more digitally involved I get, the more I want to disconnect from my electronics and reconnect with the outdoors.  Garden and landscape art is like wild woods that have been ordered and beautiful flowers that have been classically trained in ballet to look like a choreographed ensemble of color.
My mom has always been more of a gardener than me and I have been known to be an orchid killer. Â But in terms of touchable, tangible, and accessible art, I think landscape and garden art has the most potential for public outreach and awareness.
Around Ann Arbor there are three spots that I love: the Matthei Botanical Gardens, Fairy Woods (a whimsical makeshift art installation created by those ages 3+), and the Wave Field.
