Final Project Blog Post: THE END OF ARCH 199 AS WE KNOW IT

    For our final Arch 199 project, we designed the city of Octavia, a fictional place imagined by Italo Calvino in his text Invisible Cities. This city is described as “the spider-web city” and is held up solely by ropes and chains between two mountains. All buildings hang below the support system. Those who live in Octavia cannot be certain of their fate from day to day because, as Calvino points out, “they know the net will only last so long” (Calvino, 75). We took these ideas and transformed the fictional place into a real structure with a twist: the whole thing was made out of candy. (Margaret)

    Using Lifesavers, Twizzlers, Fruit Roll-Ups, Starburst, Gummy Bears, dental floss, Hershey’s Kisses, and some rope, we created Octavia on a scale that spanned the size of a room. Below our city, marshmallow clouds rested upon a bedsheet that represented the void into which the city would inevitably fall. There were three main support ropes, with floss, Twizzlers, and Fruit Roll-Ups creating the rest of the spider web. Everything else hung from these supports, with nothing rising up. (Samantha)

    Our construction of our masterpiece was most definitely on the fly, but it turned out much better than we initially thought. Our original idea was to have a dozen or so skewers with a pineapple on each side with some fruit on the skewers and some rock candy hanging as well; we were quickly told that this was too small scale and we had to shoot for the stars! When we finally secured our exhibition locale, the famous “Eagle’s Nest” room in Temple Hoyne Buell Hall, we really took a big step forward. We constructed the city in phases and different waves of volunteers. The structure went up Sunday, the houses and city elements early Monday, the clouds below on Monday night, and the great finishing touches before the unveiling on Tuesday. (Patrick)

With candy, we tried to recreate a lot of the elements from the description, keeping the principle that everything ‘hung below’ instead of rising. So our city, concentrated at the centre with clusters of ‘ground-scrapers and houses’ hung below. We also included elements such as people who inhabited the city. Ultimately ,we were able to create an edible model of a city that the inhabitants know will last so long, by making it out of substances that we wanted our audience to interact with and tear down. (Rajasi )
    This project provided an interesting experience, particularly with our choice of city, as it required us to pour all the knowledge we had accumulated over the course of the semester into a delicious model.  I’ll be the first to admit that I swiped a few starbursts and hershey kisses during the construction phase, but it was, nonetheless, an engaging project to have to assemble a city based solely upon a one page description provided by Italo Calvino.  Some features were deliberate and some features were unintended, but in the end I think we did a bang up job assembling Octavia for the class, not to mention it was incredibly delicious.  (Charles

Week 13 Observations

Week Thirteen: The Grand Finale, the Big Shebang, the Last Hurrah, the Final Throes, the Encore, the Homecoming, The Reckoning, the Return, the Revelations, whatever name you wish to apply, this tour lived up to the hype.  In the biggest showdown of 2015, Professor Hinders' ARCH 199 class took on the daunting task of touring small town America.  We all hopped on the big white bus and ventured off campus into the vast corn desert that envelopes the oasis that is UIUC.  This tour peered into the essence of the soul a fledgling architecture student seeking to spread their wings and sour amongst the of the Frank Lloyd Wrights and the Thomas Wrens and the Howard Roarks of the world.

Base camp was established at the monument to rural America as we know it: Casey's General Store.  The cultural significance of this twenty-four hour shrine to franchised capitalism cannot be understated.  Its pizzas drip with the sweet nectar of triple-pasteurized faux-dairy goodness and provide sweet refuge for the weary travelers beset by the humid realities of the Illinois summer.  Unfortunately this was not our destination, and we set out into the great unknown of Philo, Illinois.

What is beauty?  Philo attempts to answer this question with its neatly organized one mile by one mile grid system.  A wondrous water tower rises above the lower echelons as a beacon of hope in the otherwise lifeless expanse of central Illinois.  It harkens to the wayward soul and from its gullet flows the economic wellbeing of Philo.  The town otherwise consists of neatly organized rows of houses, a somewhat more lively two-block "downtown," and a catholic school for the local population.

It surprised me to learn of the high concentration of Catholics, as I had come to assume that all of Illinois outside of Chicago was populated by German Lutherans, but maybe I adopted this narrow-minded view because I spend so much time around German Lutherans.  We learned that it was more likely that German Catholics found use for the land where others couldn't with their masterful swamp-draining techniques, as the land that Philo now occupies was once nothing but acre upon acre of swamp land.

Those times were now long gone, however.  In its place stood the bustling farming community of Philo, which had grown so prosperous, in fact, that it got its own suburb, shocking as that may be.  For those with the dough to fund it, a small offshoot from Philo provided the stereotypical four-bedroom, two-bath one-acre plots of land and curvy roads that have come to represent the suburbs.  This was more up my alley, as it is houses like this that I have called home for most of my life.  I was just a bit surprised to find them all here.

Returning to Philo's cemetery, we were able to come to a rest atop a slight hill.  It was from this hill that we could see the simplistic yet beautiful landscape of Farmtown, USA.  The various other farming communities of the area were visible from here as well, and it was quite interesting to see the delicate framework that laced through rural Illinois.

To close out our final tour and our time in Philo, we stopped by the local watering hole and got to feast on finger foods while we reminisced on the glorious semester that was Spring 2015.  I'm not sure if I've completed this too late or not, but if you see this, I want to thank you for making such a fun and informative class, Professor Hinders.

Week Twelve Observations

Week Twelve featured a tour of the Education building and what should have been a student-led tour that devolved into a casual stroll through the Krannert Art Museum.  It was still a blast, though, as Architecture 199 with on Professor Hinders always is, as we departed once more on our incredible architectural journey.

The Education Building is an interesting building, and I feel that this tour allowed me to gain a greater appreciation for it or to see it in a light that I hadn't previously considered.  Simply from the outside, its shape and the angle from which you view it create illusions that obscure its true size and depth.  For instance, if one were to exit the architecture building through the south door, the major axis and the minor axis of the building would appear to be similar in length.  Subtle details like this are things I would never have picked up on before taking this class.  If we were to "simply" look at its appearance and size, we would notice that the exterior mirrors that of the undergraduate library.  Though the UGL may not rise very far above the ground, the styles of the two buildings are clearly similar.  Perhaps the most interesting tid bit I learned about the education building and the surrounding trees is that it was meant to "float" in a forest that spanned UIUC's campus, with the roof lying amongst the canopy.  I recently saw a YouTube video featuring various aerial views of campus, and it was awesome to see that idea at play.

Leading up to the north entrance of the education building, the attention to detail even in the choice of material for the pathway was visible.  Much like with the Erlanger House, there was continuity from the outside to the inside with a large glass face the only barrier between the outside and the inside.  As we progressed inward, we traversed the two long hallways that span either side of the building.  The hallways are lined with ribbed surfaces to influence the acoustics of the hallway and absorb the sound, giving each corridor a very confined feeling.

As we progressed to the second floor, the building began to take on a more open design, at least in my opinion.  Located in the center of the second floor are open study/meeting areas, with rows of windows where the walls meet the ceiling to allow for light to flow into these areas.  It seemed much more welcoming to me as a student, which probably makes sense, but I much preferred it to the first floor.  The faculty offices line the perimeter of the second floor, with windows that open up to a balcony, which forms another layer around the top of the Education Building.  It was nice to see the campus from near level with the canopy, and I also thought it was quite neat that the faculty could stroll on out for a breath of fresh air.

One of the most remarkable things about the building was the beautiful garden just outside the east exit.  The consideration and planning that went into the garden were rather evident.  It wasn't disjointed from the building and tacked on as an afterthought.  It was an integral part to the building, and something that I had never truly noticed before.  Through this class, I had seen the campus in a light that I otherwise would not have.

After some moseying around and some indecisiveness, we decided to head over to the Krannert Art Museum.  We got to see the mighty works of Lorado Taft and debated the genders of various humans in various paintings before being escorted from the premises for being too cool for school.  After leaving and returning through the correct entrance, we got to mess around in the modern art exhibit for a bit.  All in all, it was pretty good.  10/10, would visit again.

Week Eleven Observations

On Tuesday, April 7th, we observed how the form that a structure takes can convey meaning, as it pertains to the Main Library, Foreign Language Building, Smith Hall, and the Institute for Genomic Biology.  We did some speculating, we did some theory crafting, but above all else we had a slam-bangin' good time.

First stop on the tour to end all tours was the main library, where we explored one of the largest depositories of knowledge in the United States (maybe) and got our first look at how architects use spaces to convey meaning.  We entered through the eastern entrance and immediately saw the grand scale of the interior.  We ascended large staircases, which contributed to the significance of the location, as we headed for the main stacks.  On the second and first floors are located large studying rooms with tall windows, giving off the air of importance and striking awe in the hearts of many a caffeine-addicted late night studier.  From there, we ventured into the main stacks, which store countless school records and just about any book about anything you could possibly want.  It was interesting to see how the shelves served as structural supports for the rest of the building, or even just how deep the proverbial rabbit hole went with all of the books.

Departing from the library, we headed on over to the foreign language building where we discussed the modern day Tower of Babel.  Professor Hinders theorized--correctly or incorrectly we may never knooooooow--that the building was modeled after an inverted Tower of Babel, whose mythological significance was tied to the languages of the world and their origins.  While that story ended with the tower's destruction and the genesis of the world's languages, our story ends with the tower's completion and the intermingling of said languages.  To reflect a reversal of the story, the tower itself is inverted.  As opposed to shutting out God, who destroyed the original tower, the building opens up to the skies and allows light to cascade through the main lobby.  Open space is used to great effect to invite the passerby to enter and learn what the building has to offer.

After leaving the Foreign Language Building, we made our way to its next door neighbor, Smith Hall.  Home to an incredible auditorium and much of the undergraduate musical facilities, Smith Hall mimics the grandeur of Foellinger.  To convey its purpose of entertaining the community, the entrance faces the east, connecting it to Urbana.  Large pillars and an open threshold greet outsiders before compressing to a human-sized entrance.  Once crossing this threshold, however, it opens once more to the large internal hallways.  Upon entering, there is a large auditorium, whose materials and designs are selected to provide an enjoyable acoustic experience.  Above there is a balcony, and the whole auditorium is adorned with intricate woodworking to provide not only an enjoyable listening experience but also and enjoyable viewing experience.  The same grandeur that was present outside and in the auditorium extends through the hallways and stairways, as the nearly symmetrical building is sure to impress all who enter.

The Institute for Genomic Biology is faced will an issue similar to that of UGL, in that its proximity to the morrow plots prevents it from rising too high above the ground.  Because of this, it retreats into the earth, with only administrative services and an entrance above ground.  The stairs leading to the underground facility give the illusion of a light, "futuristic" framework, as the risers are semi-transparent and the steps themselves bear a metallic sheen.  They lead to a large lobby, fully equipped with a coffee shop and ample seating.  It is from here that long hallways form a network for the various offices and labs, as they conduct their research on genes, and biology, and genomic biology.

All in all, I give this tour two thumbs up, especially with the Tower of Babel idea regarding the foreign language building.  It was quite interesting to see how the organization of space can impart meaning onto those who use the space.