About a month ago, the team at IQC went through the applications for our projects that we are tackling this year. We received 13 wonderful applications and decided we were able to assist most of the towns. One of ones that stood out the most, and that the team was most excited about, was from the town of Comanche, Oklahoma, a small town of about 1700 people in southwest Oklahoma. Their story was heartbreaking. The town ridden with poverty had no library in the schools, no area for the youth to gather, no cafeteria in one of the schools. A majority of households had no access to internet, which is crucial in this day and age. The elderly community simply wanted to be able to use a computer and communicate with their family that is miles away. The students wanted books as well as internet access to do research for school projects and broaden their learning. All of the town agreed they wanted a space to display history important to their town of which they are very proud. Recently, a building in their town--the Woodrow Wilson building--was lost to a fire. On this site, the city planner asked us to design a library/museum/community center that would unite the community and act as a gathering spot for people of all ages. The team is extremely eager to complete this project and deliver the building of these peoples' dreams. Last week, we visited Comanche. We began with a luncheon where we ate and talked with the seniors of the community. They all expressed a longing for Comanche's history to be gathered in one space and available to the public. They were enthusiastic about the possibility of a computer space, both for their needs and their children and grandchildren's needs.
Afterwards, we drove a short way to the site of the demolished building. The foundation of it still remains with crumbled bricks and plant growth taking over the ruins. Surrounding the site is quite a bit of land that the city manager told us they plan on constructing a city hall, a police station, a fire station, and other civic buildings. We took a lot of pictures of the site and our time in Comanche. After returning, we called a meeting where we discussed our vision for the project. The team pulled up a lot of precedent photos that inspired some of our ideas. We want to retain the traditional feeling of the town while giving it a modern look. So far, the program consists of a library space, a museum space, a cafe, some collaboration spaces, a study space, and a computer lab. We also like the idea of adding a courtyard, so that occupants can enjoy some time in the outdoors. Additionally, we want to include a landscaping plan of the area between all of the proposed buildings. The entire team is very excited about the potential for this project and the final design.
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Quick personal post here. April 16th is Project Semicolon Day. The project was created by a woman named Amy Bleuel, who herself struggled with and lost the battle to depression this past year. The group encourages people to embrace a message about the semicolon. Many people, including myself, get tattoos of a semicolon to remind ourselves; we are survivors, warriors, fighters. The mission statement is a simple analogy. "A semicolon represents a sentence the author could have ended, but chose not to. That author is you, and the sentence is your life. I have remembered this now for several years as I battle my own mental health problems and support those around me who struggle as well. I have lost one of my closest friends to suicide in the past year and it was the most difficult loss I've had to cope with. The day that I heard the terrible news, I was on a plane to Budapest to begin my one month of solo traveling across Europe. I considered cancelling the trip and coming home to mourn, but I knew my friend would want me to go on a wild adventure and learn more about myself and the world. I carried on my travels and although it was the most difficult thing I have ever done, I made so many friends and memories that helped me through my darkest days. One interaction I remember the most is when I crossed paths with a girl in a hostel in Paris. We got to talking as fellow travelers do and realized that we have the same tattoo, the same size, in the same spot. Complete strangers, we shared our stories of what it means to us and opened up to one another. The following morning we said our goodbyes after snapping a picture of our solidarity. I don't know where she is now, but for just one night, she was a friend when I needed one most, and for that I am thankful. So please, be compassionate. Ask those around you how they are, be aware of the warning signs, eliminate the stigma against those suffering from mental illness. It means so much to just have a simple conversation when you are struggling with depression. And for those who are currently fighting just remember: "Your story isn't over." Bringing the Dead Back to LifeA few weeks ago, the dean of the OU Christopher Gibbs College of Architecture contacted me about a project for an acquaintance of his. His friend, an avid historic building and vintage car enthusiast, had recently purchased a building on Linwood Boulevard near Stockyards City in Oklahoma City. The plan is to renovate it and restore it to reflect its original appearance when it was built in the 1940s. The building has quite the eclectic history. Originally it was a transmission shop. Today it is an industrial warehouse that houses the businesses Architectural Antiques and a humorously titled business, Dead People's Stuff. Inside there are hundreds of antique parts that were salvaged from old buildings, such as windows, doors, wood siding, tiles, light fixtures and even an entire staircase. There are also smaller antiques such as clocks, statues, vases, and butter churners.
The client has asked that a student produce elevation drawings of the facade of the building, as well as documenting the square footage of all the warehouse and suite spaces. This involves measuring every detail of the faces of the building, hastily sketching it down, and later translating that into beautiful AutoCAD drawings. A fellow student, Nick Pazdernik, and I were chosen for the job. One of the biggest challenges for me is staying focused on that tasks at hand. When I am standing back looking at the bigger picture, it is easy for me to see a dozen different elements that need to be measured and jumping around between them. That window height, this concrete panel, that sill height, this wall span, that door trim. If it were my job alone, I might take 4 hours to measure one side of the building because I would be running back and forth instead of working methodically. Luckily, working as a team balances out my weaknesses with another's strengths and keeps us focused. As of today we have finished measuring the building. I possess half a sketchbook filled with boxy, not-to-scale diagrams of the facades and tiny dimensions squished in between one another. It is legible to me, and that's what matters. This has been a very useful experience with my first job involving drawings in the real architectural profession and I'm excited to make the final product to show for our efforts. Digital drawings to follow.
Recently, as the undergraduate intern at the bottom of the workplace totem pole, I was handed a USB with almost 1400 PDFs of scanned drawings. I was tasked with labeling them by city, address, and building name. A few weeks later I was also given a box with several hundred original printed drawings (see me below holding one of many folders) that needed to be scanned and digitally organized. What seemed daunting at first was actually quite rewarding. Now, you might ask, why? First, take a look and scroll through some of these drawings below. They range from being done in the 80s to just a few years ago. A lot of them were done by OU's own Professor Ron Frantz. Many of them were done by OU students in the 90s and early 2000s under the guidance of Professor Arn Henderson. Almost all of them were drawn or rendered by hand. Nowadays, architects, engineers, graphic designers--almost any form of creative media--is done digitally. Even if your profession does not involve Photoshop, AutoCAD or similar software, you probably still recognize them. However, before computers were widespread, architects designed and documented strictly with paper and pen. After viewing thousands of these, I have realized that hand drawings will always remain a vital part of the architectural profession because: 1. You have the ability to quickly illustrate ideas on paper, anywhere, any time.With digital designing, you must be near a computer to even begin. A pencil and a sheet of paper allows immediate exploration of your ideas. You aren't limited or slowed down by computer commands or where you can work. You can even do quick sketches on cocktail napkins while you're out and about. 2. Sketches can quickly go through multiple iterations.Think, draw, repeat. Repeat, repeat, repeat. The most important part to design work is thinking over and over about your design and constantly drawing new versions of your idea. Using computer programs can quickly get messy if you try to draw over or alter previous drawings, and creating a new one simply takes too much time. With hand sketching it is much quicker and easier to try out new ideas, you can even layer changes on top of an original drawing. This initial sketch of the new facade for the repurposed Texaco station served as the basis for experimentation with different color finishes, awning placements, windows, and trim. This was easily drawn by hand, whereas a computer rendering of all these options would have taken far longer. 3. They are easier for clients to understand than technical drawings.Often in design software, architects are designing in plan, section, and elevation. They can be filled with dimensions, annotations, and other technical terms that clients may struggle to understand. It can be difficult to envision what a building will look like strictly from a floor plan and this sort of drawing will likely not be interesting to someone who does not work in the architectural field. A view of what the finished building will look like--from either the front facade or a perspective drawing--is more useful for clients to make design decisions with the architect. Check out these drawings of two different buildings. The first two pictures above are a floor plan and a section. While they tell the client the layout of the building, they don't give them a good idea of what the exterior would look like. The elevation in the third picture above gives a better picture of what the facade will look like. Below, the floor plan offers no clue to the exterior appearance. The second picture shows more of what the shape is and the finish materials, but the perspective drawing is the clearest vision of the building's design. 4. Hand drawings have more authenticity and a more meaningful connection.There's something so much more satisfying about a tangible hand drawing--it's almost a piece of art. Computer drawings feel impersonal, robotic, harsh. Holding a piece of paper in your hand, seeing the pencil or pen marks, the imperfections, the direction that someone drew the pen stroke, it adds so much more character to the picture. Unfortunately some of this is lost in the scanned drawings here, but there were a few copies of drawings that were actually originals that I enjoyed seeing so much. Back to the big question, why bother making this digital database of these scanned drawings? Hand drawings have some drawbacks, lacking certain abilities that come with the digital age. It is useful to integrate these physical drawings into digital form because: 1. It is easier to search for a specific drawing.Having a huge stack of papers, or a copious amount of filing cabinets filled to the brim with folders of drawings, it can be difficult to locate a drawing if you are looking for a specific one. With this set of files, each drawing is labelled with the city, address, and building name, allowing anyone to look up keywords and quickly find what they are looking for. 2. The files can be backed up.With physical drawings, there is only one copy of each, unless they are scanned and duplicated, which leaves them susceptible to being lost forever in the event of a fire, water damage, or being misplaced. Now that these have been scanned and saved on a flash drive, they can be backed up and saved in multiple locations. This digital storage insures that the information and beauty contained in these original drawings will be preserved for future reference and appreciation. 3. The drawings are more easily shareable.With hard copies, the extent to which you can easily share them is limited. Typically, paper drawings are only shared in person, with a client or two, and perhaps in a presentation if the drawing is large enough in original size. Having been scanned and converted to PDFs, these drawings can now be sent to other people via email, scaled to larger sizes and incorporated into public presentations, or even posted online such as in this blog post. Essentially, they are now accessible to many more people. Overall I've also learned quite a bit about the skills necessary to make successful hand drawings. Seeing the different hatches and lines that the architects used to convey materials and depth has been useful for developing my own sketching skills. The way these architects convey textures is something that I've not been taught in school. The attention to detail is quite impressive too. As for the documentation and organization that I have done, it will be made available to all of the cities involved in the Oklahoma Main Street Program. Previously, these hand drawings were all just laying in a box in the corner of someone's office, unnoticed and unseen. Even if they were pulled out of seclusion, it was near impossible to find what you were looking for among all of them. Now, future historic preservationists and owners of these buildings will be able to quickly look up these original drawings as needed. Note: I take no credit for these drawings. They were all done by other architects, including Ronald Frantz, Todd Scott, Barrett Williamson, and many architecture students under the guidance of Arn Henderson.
Note: This blog post is also going to be featured on the website of my current employer, OU Institute for Quality Communities. Check it out, along with their other work, at iqc.ou.edu. The site of the Indian City lodge has a pristine and manicured entrance. A smooth parking lot, a clean brick building, shiny new windows. It is the only place that has truly authentic replicas of seven different Native American tribes’ villages down to the last detail. Tours are given of these downscaled Indian villages so that visitors can experience the different cultures. Adjacent to the gift shop is a small museum that displays various artifacts from the Kiowa tribe. Periodically throughout the day, Native American dancers dressed in traditional garb perform a show of traditional dances for visitors in the small pavilion behind the museum. It is a wonderful place to learn about several Native American cultures and their history. A couple of weeks ago, on February 13th, I went along with a group of OU faculty and students to visit the site to observe the building’s condition and discuss the Kiowa tribe desired improvements and developments. Unfortunately, the building now lies broken and abandoned. A Brief History of the SiteThe site surrounding the Indian City Lodge has a rather solemn history. It was on these grounds that the Tonkawa massacre of 1862 occurred. A variety of different Native American tribes lived in the area at the time, among them the Kiowa, Tonkawa, Comanche, and several others. The Tonkawa were not liked by the other tribes due to their cannibalistic nature. The story goes that two Kiowa boys were captured by the Tonkawa and one was killed and eaten by the Tonkawa. The other boy escaped and ran into a group of Comanches who then went to the Kiowa village. The Comanches informed the Kiowa of the boy’s story and together they proceeded to the Tonkawa village. Upon seeing the deceased Kiowa boy with their own eyes they became enraged. It was that night, October 23rd, 1862, that they killed every single person in the Tonkawa village. Then and NowSince the 2000s, it has since been abandoned and slowly reclaimed by nature. The roof has some discoloration, the mural painted on the brick is chipping and yes, that is plywood over one of the windows. Grass has sprouted through the asphalt, overwhelming the parking lot and masking the building facade as it has gotten out of control. It is apparent that teenagers have come and left behind garbage and rampant vandalism. The glass at the front is shattered, leaving shards in the door frame. Items in the gift shop have been stolen or strewn recklessly all over the ground. However, some portions of the shop are still relatively intact. Shelves of kitschy knick knacks remain just as they were 10 years ago with only a layer of dust to show how time has passed. The museum portion is shrouded in complete darkness, with rotting floorboards and empty glass cases where Native American history once resided. It is absolutely surreal walking through this building and being able to understand exactly how it functioned before, but seeing it utterly trashed. As we walked through the museum we noticed water damage where leaks have allowed the rain to permeate. We observed excessive termite damage, which had been ignored in the past and simply covered up with more materials instead of tackling the root of the problem. In addition to doing a walkthrough of the building and its exterior, we drove up a winding gravel path, which was best traversed with four wheel drive, to view the replica housing structures. These were in fairly good condition. The tribes represented here were the Navajo, Chiricahua Apache, Wichita, Kiowa Winter Camp, Caddo, Pawnee, and Pueblo. I found it very interesting being able to see how so many Native Americans lived in these very natural and sustainable dwellings made completely from the materials that nature had to offer. Where to Go From HereAlthough the site is currently very rugged and the building is falling apart, there is hope. After the current building is demolished, there is a possibility of a Revitalization Grant to fund reclaiming the site and installing new developments to reignite tourism. Some of the difficulty with this project stems from how to deal with preserving the historic elements here. One surveyor mentioned an idea of potentially salvaging portions of the building to incorporate into the new developments. Perhaps the wall containing the mural can be used to enclose a space at the restaurant or be used in the museum walls. The interior has beautiful exposed wooden beams supporting the roof. These, after being inspected for any damage, can be used in nonstructural ways as overhead accents, trim, or headers to add a feeling of originality to the building. Bricks from the building may be applied to non-structural walls or details, adding both to a lower project cost and the aesthetic. Steve Quoetone, Director of Transit for the Kiowa tribe, brought up the possibility of constructing, in addition to the museum and gift shop, a restaurant that overlooks the wonderful view, and also a casino. Another issue then presents itself--how do we bring tourists into this site located a few miles off the main road? It is off the beaten path and would not be an attraction that tourists just happen to discover on their way to another destination. Previously, Indian City also had some advertising that would draw in tourists. Now, besides word of mouth and a well-made website, it might be difficult for people to know it even exists. While it would certainly be useful to distribute flyers and small ads within the town of Anadarko, perhaps it could be declared a landmark and have a sign off of highway 62 to draw the attention of people passing through the town. It is only a few miles away and would not be a long detour. Hopefully, the Indian City Lodge and its replica villages will soon be restored to their former magnificence. Here stands a naive aspiring world traveler. With nothing but a camera, a backpack and a desire to explore, I embarked on a hellish 24 hour series of flights that brought me to Rome and the experience of a lifetime. My first real time out of the country was quite a leap from the US to living for 5 months abroad. Today marks 1 year since the day that I stepped on that destined plane and did the most daring thing I have ever done. My adventures abroad began as soon as I stepped off that plane in the Rome Fiumicino Airport and walked through the customs gate. The moment I stepped outside, everything was novel to me. I remember the sheer loudness as taxis raced, fellow travelers shouted, horns honked--Italian drivers were notoriously awful--and my senses were briefly overwhelmed. Having never been in a very large city for more than a week at a time (vacations and such), this was a radically different experience from residing in the stereotypical American suburbs. Whereas at home I relied completely on my dependable Mazda to get me to and from school or the grocery store, the walkability of European cities absolutely blew me away. Within a 10 minute walk of my apartment there were 3 grocery stores, a slew of specialty food shops (butcher, cheese shops, etc), a bank, several coffee shops, and countless restaurants. While school was about a 25 minute walk, the public transportation was abundant and cheap--though not always timely or reliable. The 25 minute walk turned into a 10 minute tram ride. Being able to accomplish all of my daily errands by foot was incredibly convenient, cost efficient, healthy, and gave me time to truly appreciate the city. I found this to be true of all the major European cities I visited, and even some of the smaller towns. Here is a gallery of some quick highlights from my time in Rome and surrounding cities in Italy. Feel free to check out my full photo galleries for all of the cities I visited. If anything, the way that European cities are designed for the pedestrian and not the automobile was inspiring to me and sparked an interest in city planning and the urban design scale. During my month of solo backpacking I spent a good amount of time walking through the cities with no particular destination in mind--just experiencing the things that the locals would as I happened upon them. I came across an annual street racing event in Budapest. I relished in the picturesque streetside cafes of Paris. I ate tapas everywhere I could in Barcelona. I delved into the vibrant nightlife of Vienna. I smelled the roses as I meandered through London's Hyde Park. I visited the teeming markets in Madrid. I strolled beneath the jacaranda trees in the hilly streets of Lisbon. I admired the public transportation in Switzerland. More frequently during my travels I was intrigued by how the cities were laid out--I found myself spending equal amounts of time visiting landmarks as observing how people interacted with the built environment. Granted I only traveled in typical tourist destinations so tourists constituted a significant portion of the people I observed, but it was fairly easy to tell the tourists apart from the locals. The quieter the neighborhood was, as I ventured off the beaten path, the more authentic the adventures that followed. I find myself inspired to pursue the field of city planning and/or urban design after this trip. As for the architecture along my journey, it was extraordinary. It was an incredible spectrum ranging from the 2000 year old Roman Forum, to the Zaha Hadid MAXXI Museum built within the last decade. The ancient and the modern co-existing side by side was the case in most cities I visited. Aside from Rome, which I called home for almost 4 months, my two favorite cities were Berlin and Paris. Berlin has the most rich history of any city I have ever visited. The poignant Jewish Museum by Daniel Libeskind was so powerful, I found myself transported to 1940s Berlin, learning about the horrors that occurred there. The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe contained terrible beauty as I wandered through the daunting concrete array at sunset. Paris manifested a less somber atmosphere, yet equally entrancing. The major landmarks--the Eiffel Tower, Palace of Versailles, the Louvre--all held up to the hyped up expectations I had beforehand. I got to see one of my favorite buildings of all time, the Notre Dame Cathedral. I have been fascinated with it from a young age, and getting to walk beneath its vaulted ceilings, see the light shine through its south rose window, feel small next to its massive flying buttresses, was a dream come true. Granted I had to drag myself on a 30 minute walk on a blistering hot day while I was very ill, but it was all worth it. All my other experiences--taking the wrong train back from Villa Savoye, walking up those endless stairs at the Sacre Coeur Basilica, climbing the Eiffel Tower in the pouring rain--made my time in Paris so much more memorable. Sometimes I find myself longing to be back in the big cities again, the hustle and bustle, the mix of the old and the new, the joy of walking to your destination and feeling a connection with the city and its people. I lived in large rooms with 6 bunk beds in them, I took public transportation, I walked everywhere. This caused me to meet so many people from different corners of the world and make so many new friends. That would have never happened if I had relied on a rental car, or if I had the financial luxury of staying in a private hotel room (so there is an upside to being poor haha). Sharing your living quarters and day-to-day experiences with strangers forces you to become closer to people you otherwise never would have talked to. Seeing world-famous architecture and exploring these large cities gave me valuable firsthand experience that allowed me to observe more detail, and actually feel the spaces. Meeting new people and living like a local Italian broadened my horizons and provided new perspectives. I'm glad I went into this open-minded and came out better on the other side. Ciao Italia, and all of Europe. Until we meet again! |
Amy HostetterCurrent student. Archives
January 2019
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