Here today, gone tomorrow
The American elections have been getting me thinking about the weirdness- of the process of course- but more architecturally; of the weirdness of the sudden hubs of activity that the democratic process creates.
Usually empty street corners suddenly a destination in themselves with a ballot drop box. Usually sparsely populated community centres and school halls suddenly filled with tiny temporary dwelling places- voting booths. This year American voters had some very quirky polling locations, including a bar, a fire station and - in New Orleans- Dave’s garage. For a day these spaces are transformed into a hive of activity, the destination of the moment- and the next they return to ‘normal’ life- a parent and toddler group, a school assembly, the place where Dave keeps his weed killer.
During my undergrad. a craze for the theory of place and non-place swept through our year group at architecture school- the moment at which a non-place became a place, and how this could be understood and engineered (because all 18 year old wannabe architects are megalomaniacs!). This theory popularised by French anthropologist Marc Augé posits that spaces which are transient, where humans remain anonymous do not hold enough significance to be a ‘place’- for instance a motorway service station or a hotel room may be considered a ‘non-place’.
The fascinating factor for me was always the point at which a ‘non-place’ becomes a ‘place’- for instance in a moment of crisis or deep emotional connection even the most non-placey of places will become significant and live in the memory of the person experiencing the space as a ‘place’- if only in their mind. (I should add I never read deeply enough on this to know if I am butchering the theory with this hypothesis!). For a few weeks though, the deepest insult we could throw at a friend’s project would be to declare it ‘not very placey’.
But I will get back to the point; polling stations have always struck me as a momentary and instantaneous translation from (my version of) ‘non-place’ to ‘place’. Not so much because you do not remain anonymous- but the sudden focus of attention, emotion and destination on a non-descript and often underutilised space. The almost magical transformation overnight, only to vanish again the next day for another four years.
There was a Beatrix Potter story my Mum would read to me when I was little called The Fairy Caravan; whose storyline followed the meandering progress of a circus of animals through the Lake District. They would perform for the local farm animals and pets and then vanish overnight. The image of the little circus finding its way through the world hidden from the grown ups, and creating for just a night or two a circle of light and entertainment in the still dark of the night before moving on captivated me and has sat with me since. (see tiny image below- yes, that is a dormouse and a guinea pig riding a pig dressed up as an elephant, what more could you want from a story?!)
Of course I must admit that in the office were I to refer to Marc Augé’s theories of place I would probably be looked at askance- but looking back through old work projects this week while archiving sketchbooks I realised we were all working towards this mystical goal of ‘placey-ness’- even if we never named it such.
Other things I am enjoying this week include browsing through the wonderful bits and pieces on Tat's website (especially as my favourite flea market in Greenwich has been closed for so long). Sadly I don’t think my flat really needs any more stuff! I have also been building a stack of architectural reading for lockdown including Four walls and a roof, Why Architects Matter and The Honeywood File. Lastly my very talented former colleague Anna has made me groan that I was organised enough to buy Christmas cards too early and therefore currently have no good excuse to buy these marvels.
Until next time!