This is an excerpt from my MLA Thesis, Stratified Overgrowth: The Displacement of Truth in a Landscape of Ruin.

Ruins sustain the validity that there can be many truths; that the ruin can be decaying – but that it can also be teeming with growth. The perception and experience of truth is difficult to navigate without a juxtaposition of its physical context. The displacement of stratified, ruined material generates a shift in perception through the use of overgrowth.

The landscape of ruin has lost its human occupation to time and memory. It is perceived as a site of singular decay, a space to be re-conquered from its devolution into the dangers of the urban wilds. It is perceived that these urban wilds do not hold purpose in the safe, controlled conformity of the dominion of man. With these pre-established societal perceptions of the ruin, it is understandable to fail to notice that the ruin is also a site of growth. It is this truth – that the ruin is decaying, but that it can also be teeming with growth – that suggests the potentiality for a human social need: transcending perception.

Ruins are the opposite of the new, the opposite of the constructed, and the opposite of the inhabited. To propose that ruins can generate new things, ‘build’ new spaces, and encourage inhabitation to the point of active participation speaks of the duality between the physical displacement of truth and the intellectual displacement of thought. If what is comprehensible is a physical context that has fluidity, then what is not comprehensible, what is nonsensical, is the disruption of that physical context. That disruption acts as a trigger to the mind as it races for a justification for this change. A sudden moment of awareness (satori) may result, enabling the mind to see a material condition that was always there, but never perceived.

The layering of decaying and growing material permits these moments of enlightenment. This does not mean that these two forces are negating each other, it suggests that there is only one type of growth, which, because of its inherently parasitic and pilfering nature, also causes decay: overgrowth. This overgrowth is a process that results in a considerable scalar change to an existing condition. The appearance of this is in relation to the ruin is what triggers satori. Overgrowth can happen with vegetation, earth, water, wind, time, thought, human occupation, industrial constructions and limit-less others.

Experiencing overgrowth is of greatest importance in understanding our role with the many truths of the landscape. But, such observations do not delve deep enough in the mind to perceive more truth. It is indispensable to question the conditions and the observation itself to enable a refined understanding of overgrowth, the ruin, the individual, and the society. This thesis proposes that engaging the ruin is a necessary regenerative process in structured inhabitation and asks its audience to reconsider the concept of the ‘death’ of a site. It is only during this sliver of time in a ruined state that mysterious moments of satori could spontaneously occur with an audience escaping the banality, conformity, and the quotidian modus operandi of the urban fabric.

The site was in the Acushnet Heights (a Historic District) neighborhood of New Bedford, MA, a city of over 93,000 in decline. The attempt was to revitalize this neighborhood (with the myriad vacant lots and buildings,) a mere three tenths of a mile from Downtown through different strategies. Currently the northern edge of the neighborhood is cut by I-195 East/West and its direct access to the waterfront is cut by a downtown connector. The waterfront is a working industrial waterfront; it was once known most for its whaling industry, then Wamsutta Cotton and now it is principally related to the fishing industry.

My interest in this studio was initially to challenge myself to design in small spaces. This did not happen (my last chance is now in Thesis) as my focus shifted to the space between the back of Purchase Street (the main commercial avenue) and the downtown connector; eventually encompassing the connector itself. This proved to be very challenging and at times overextending as I ended up designing a 1.3 mile long linear park. The interest stemmed from the idea that intervening in this relatively thin strip of land would act as a catalyst to develop Acushnet Heights without draining resources and interaction from the neighborhood.

Design Statement

Using a built typology of the city’s maritime tradition and manufacturing lore, this adventure promenade of exposition seeks to act as a placeholder for increasing density between a residential neighborhood and a working industrial waterfront. It proposes to act as a catalyst and container for program, and borrows the site for an interpretive programmatic timeline to be relinquished over time as needs arise. The rather fantastical nature of the exposition elements hope to physically ground the city’s sense of identity in the attempt to activate both Acushnet Heights and Waterfront for new density while preserving the existing character of the neighborhood.

An earlier intent to reverse the decline of the Acushnet Heights neighborhood was to strategically repurpose existing abandoned buildings along Purchase Street for new, generative program. By doing so, it was hoped to bring local and regional micro economies to the street which as a result of these activities, improvement would radiate out into the neighborhood. A lack of viable buildings and lots along the street to be effective led to a shifting of this idea of what I termed an “edutainment crèche corridor” to the right of way between Route 18 and the back of the buildings of Purchase Street. This corridor intended to act as a public/private interface for new density in that a public walk would be created for recreation while allowing for privacy of these businesses adjoining the walk. It was soon understood that Route 18 was siphoning off these potential micro economies from the neighborhood because of the barrier that this downtown connector was creating. There seemed to be little reason for anyone wanting to visit Acushnet Heights. Therefore, and in addition to a concern that the program intended for this thin sliver of land was not large enough, I shifted the corridor to occupy the present space of Route 18.

The corridor became a promenade due to the idea of using this now long linearity as an interpretive timeline of New Bedford’s history to define the program along its 1.3 mile length. Realizing that perhaps this new promenade of exposition is acting as its own barrier – not of transportation, but rather as a program between a residential neighborhood and a working waterfront, I designed the area as a recreational and educational park with specific program density according to site adjacencies but leaving space in between these programs to allow for new density over time. I do not imagine that this linear park will remain in its designed form indefinitely – I hope that over time as the population grows, yes, grows, that the spaces between programs, for example, between the Foundry/Forge and the Book Exchange, will fill with new buildings and new purposes.

The design is taking over all this land but it is giving it back to the city slowly over time or as need arises. Its rather unusually fantastical nature is necessary to act for inspiration and a sense of place for the neighborhood. I realize that a sense of place exists for New Bedford, especially with a city with such a rich history, but even if this identity is strong, it needs to be pushed beyond its current capacity to change the perception of its neighborhoods. Complacency or “business as usual” does not breed innovation, new ideas, or the internal strength to rebuild a neighborhood. If it is well known that Herman Melville wrote Moby Dick, a novel inspired while on a whaling expedition originating from New Bedford, the capital city of whaling, and sailed on a whaler aptly named the Acushnet; then it would be appropriate to physically insert a whale ship as a book exchange and informal business incubator and meeting place and to insert an interpretive whale as dramatic theater, itself being a theater. These two physical objects would act as visual metaphor of New Bedford’s history: this is where New Bedford came from, and these objects of exposition serve as an interpretive adventure for the future. This is accomplished by:

• Tearing out Route 18 and taking over that space for program
• Strategically placed program corresponding to existing site adjacencies
• Having nearly continuous program for 1.3 miles

Our first Advanced Studio explored water issues in an urban environment in one of the poorest cities of the world: Kolkata, India. The sections below highlight the investigative process that our class pursued as we attempted to create an “Atlas” prior to travel to Kolkata in March 2009. This Atlas was our attempt to understand the region, urban area and culture from afar and test them on the ground upon our arrival. Our program was to design a Eco-Cultural Retreat in Kalighat, not far from the Kali Temple, on the Adi Ganga Canal.

My contribution to the Atlas

Upon our return to Providence in the beginning of April, we sought to quickly investigate site strategies in teams. We effectively had a month and a half to design our intervention. I would eventually split off and go solo because I wanted to explore an idea of multi-tiered structures with overgrown plant material. In essence, the plant material would be defining the architecture and space in the retreat.

But, I started with the concept of retaining canal water to use for both urban agriculture and focal point for the Living Units of the Eco-Cultural Retreat. That concept was developed while in the group. Each Living Unit had to meet the minimum dimensions and we needed to have enough units to house 150 guests.

Design Statement

The program for the site is to design a new ecological and cultural retreat and community center along the Adi Ganga Canal to be run as a neighborhood cooperative. The facility would be a stopping off point for travelers on their way to various sites in the region such as the Sundarbans or Nepal. It would also provide local community opportunities for self employment with a training institute focused on entrepreneurship, business management skills, sustainable building practices and materials, water management practices, urban agriculture, a literacy program and written local histories archive, and an incubator for new business for local artisans engaged in textiles, ceramics and furniture using local or recycled materials. Finally, the retreat and community center would serve as a model for sustainable urban living producing, managing, and reusing the facility’s food, water and waste.

Kalighat is the site of the Kali Temple, one of 52 sacred areas of India. The confluence of pilgrims and locals at this significant site creates an amorphous and untapped cultural exchange. The concept intends to investigate how to create public space to influence stewardship of culture (local histories) and the environment as an improvement of livelihood. The purpose of this is to reverse the trend of Kolkata’s state of advanced urban decay. Doing so would create a renewed sense of identity in the city, theoretically leading to a renaissance of cultural and oral histories.

A primary concern is how to tie the site’s rich cultural tradition of exchange – as an economic market, as a spiritual shrine and as a place of social gathering – with an eco-cultural idea of an “urban rainforest”. Realizing that the final destination for the retreat’s visitors is highly likely to be the mangroves of the Sundarbans, and understanding Kolkata’s existing jungle typology (i.e., located on a tropical delta and the opportunistic nature of plants growing in this region), the design seeks to physically define program by a field of “plants as architecture”. This intention is meant to strengthen the visitor’s relationship to the site; that the ecological systems of a wetland, whether in an urban condition or in a rural context, play an integral role in changing the perception of flooding and water management from a problem into a celebrated gift. Furthermore, it is a hope that the visual strength that this adds to the retreat as an immersive experience would contribute to the dialogue of idea and oral history exchange.

The Experience

A 20 minute shuttle takes you from the airport to the Howrah River. You embark on a hi-speed catamaran water taxi bound for Kalighat. In half an hour, you find yourself gliding down the Adi Ganga Canal in view of a dense canopy of trees hiding multi-storied structures embedded in the canal bank with a few piers stretching across the canal. You dock at the terminal, noting the local merchants loading and offloading their wares into smaller boats. Signs direct you to the Retreat – the direct route for guests guarded by a Retreat Reservations Officer, or a sinuous route that takes you through the heart of Kalighat to the main retreat building.

Feeling adventurous (after all, you’re in India for a sense of exotic adventure!), you head off to the indirect route. You begin to notice the market and food stall fragrances wafting through the air. You look up, and see local residents engaged in a spirited discussion on the veranda of a Community Center. The path hooks a right and you’re brought past rows of market stalls surrounding water inlets filled with boats of all manners and sizes.

You look back to where you’re going and suddenly realize the grade change and that you’re in the air passing communal roof gardens and incubator spaces. You soon pass a “training institute” overlooking a public space pocket which connects to what seems to be a busy street parallel to the canal. You spot a craftsman working on clay figurines. The path keeps changing weaving you around the neighborhood, periodically walking into open public spaces above the ground. There are signs pointing directions everywhere – it’s a city above a city! The presence of water is everywhere, seen and unseen. The gurgling of water directs your eyes in a searching manner looking for its source. You fail to find it, but you are suddenly aware of the profuse amount of vegetation – down on the ground, or what looks like the ground. It looks like a soft fluffy bed that you wish you could sink into after a long arduous journey. Your eyes travel upwards to the middle layers – vines embracing walls and corners and then up to the top with shimmering foliage in the light breeze. You realize that air is not as thick and heavy as it was before you arrived. Your eyes slowly slide back to the path, and see the gate to the retreat not far off.

You check-in, and find your way to your room. If it can be called that – it’s a winding road to that as well but the scale is smaller and more intimate. As you open the door, the cooler air spreads over you and you see the bright sunlight beyond through some vines. Dropping your bags, you quickly walk to this strange veranda – it is covered by vines and yet allows plenty of light through. Back in the hazy sunlight, you take in your breath at the sight of the stepping upper topography of the retreat. You see many gardens and what appears to be water holding tanks. You can just make out the boat terminal out in the distance – wait – you look at your watch – it really took me that long? No, that can’t be, it’s only a short walk from here… Interesting – this built environment actually made me slow down from all the fast travel I just experienced. You smile wistfully and then turn back and settle in.

Wintersession of my second year I had the opportunity to study Robert Irwin’s Four Categories of Sculpture (from his 1985 essay, Being and Circumstance) in the context of landscape architecture. Taking each of his categories: site dominant, site adjusted, site specific and site determined/conditioned, and applying them to landscape architecture.

This independent study would change my perceptions of sculpture — that it is not distinct from the landscape, and its practice should not be confined to a separation from the landscape. The following are all four categories as originally laid out on 24×36:

The site was the YMCA in Cambridge, MA, right across from City Hall in Central Square. There were two phases to the project: the first was designing a green roof/roof garden for the YMCA and the second phase was to design an urban park behind the YMCA in the existing parking lot. Necessary programmatic elements
for the roof project included roof access (both from the building, to the theater in the building and to the yet-to-be-designed urban park), and spaces for 1, 2 and 20 people.

This was the first studio in which we were challenged to come up with a thesis for our design. Understanding that the YMCA is a center for enlightenment as well as having the capacity for adventure, the thesis for the roof design was: Comfort created by moments of pause, yet having enough energy for a sense of adventure around the corner. The latter part of that statement, “adventures around the corner” would become a design cornerstone for the rest of the semester.

The concept was to create a roof garden of enlightenment; made possible through “adventures around the corner.” This is indicative of the maze-like nature of the plan.

One would enter through the existing building that is the YMCA and weave through the “Forest of Resonance” (a steel walkway amongst plastic tubes that would bounce, sway, and glow at night) and have the option of either going down to the lower roof to the urban park or go towards the theater and the upper roof. The “Forest of Resonance” path is sinuous both for grade change and conditioning the mind before getting to the enlightenment garden. That space has similar properties to the Resonance path in terms of its material multiplicity and has a giant fiber optic white oak in the middle to serve as an object of reflection.

Continuing the “adventures around the corner” concept, the urban park required both active and passive recreation (team sports, areas for relaxation), a YMCA Community Center, a cafe, and a performance area. This iteration of the concept was heavily reworked due to certain dead spaces and limits to circulation. Raising most of the park 15 feet into the air (to create a sound barrier) was also not the wisest of choices. Underground parking for the YMCA, adjoining Senior Center and Post Office Postal Truck Parking were requirements as well. This park was lowered in this final 1/16” model to give more access points, both pedestrian and vehicular. The east end of the park (top) now has gaming pavilions, the performance area moved to the YMCA facade, the children’s playscape now expanded and has more passive recreation areas. Some of the program components were divided up as to draw people and retain them as long as possible. This is accomplished with a newstand in the alley between the Senior Center and Post Office, a cafe along the axis to the Community Center (the translucent tower), performance area and the rest of the program.

Looking back at my process, I approached the program through the use of a few bold interventions. I chose direct paths of trajectory that subtlety changed at specific view shed lookouts. I used a repetitive material palette consisting of both porous (the 98 cherry trees arranged in a grid surrounding a building and parking lot) and non-porous materials (the stone and zinc in the communal areas in center and retaining wall right bottom). However, I also used these materials for their spatial porosity. Though a cherry tree may hinder sight beyond only slightly, if that tree were multiplied, then certain viewsheds would only be visible at certain points. From one point, a visitor’s viewing angle may be such that they see a dense thicket of cherry trees. And yet, a small distance further down may suddenly reveal a sweeping vista.

The blue dotted line signifies vehicular approach while yellow is pedestrian. Red is viewsheds

I had several critical concerns when I sought my design solution for these botanical illustration study areas and drawing studio. The first was to slowly build expectation of the visitor to the site through an awareness of the ridge. The second was the experience of discovery — not immediately revealing the visual experience of the site. The final concern was for the illustrators in the study areas have an intimate experience with their subject matter. I attempted to apply three concepts to this final concern: linkage to memory, awareness of presence, and linkage to present.

Through the use of sketching drawings on bristol paper I developed some of these solutions to these concerns. Working exclusively in plan, however, was limiting to understand spatial concerns. I began to see the benefit of models in this studio, though it was not until the later that year that I would fully embrace them. Instead, I  relied heavily on my imagination to envision these spaces. While it could be argued that I lost perspective doing this, this ‘internal conversation’ that I was having with myself allowed me to be self-critical. I could quickly envision solutions (mostly details — larger elements took more thinking) and imagine myself and others in those spaces. It was significantly faster (if not as efficient) than drawing or building models for undeveloped ideas. It was only after testing this against myself would I permit putting the ideas on paper and further developing them.

The lean back fabric study area between two trees

It was then that I decided to focus each study area on a specific illustration task. The first study area was redesigned for an intimate experience with the foliage of Pinus rigida.I think there some elements of the design that were successful, but, overall, it was a failure in meeting my design goals. A constant worry was over-exposure from wind on the site. I attempted to compensate for this while attempting to fulfill the “awareness of the ridge” concern by slicing beneath grade for a significant length of the pedestrian path. Yet, while I attempted to fulfill the “experience of discovery” I wondered if I had done enough by carving away these slots perpendicular to the grade to catch glimpses of view and light for the visitor.

Here is the 20 scale final model with path from parking, 600sq ft terrace and 750sq ft studio: