This is the microcosm drawing (1:500 at A1) in progress:
(For some reason none of my uploads would work last night or this morning so Dropbox it is) I am not happy with the drawing, but I’m not quite sure, why so suggestions would be great!
I did this section (1:200 at A1) in the process of drawing the NY section, which I plan on also printing at A1:
I’ve been attempting to write my project statement as the introduction to my portfolio, but it’s a bit long and maybe not saying what it should? Help on this would also be great:
The ceiling in the main concourse of Grand Central Terminal, New York, tells the story of pause: to brief pauses in people’s actions and long, lingering pauses in materials; to physical records of change and stark denial of change. Although the painted constellation ceiling appears to be the same as the day it opened, it is a replica constructed over the crumbling asbestos original. Many years later the new ceiling had turned black, supposedly from the smoke created by the trains. In actual fact, waiting passengers were constantly smoking in anticipation of their train and the ceiling bore a tarred testament to their pausing. It took twelve delicate years to restore the ceiling, and a single patch of dirty brick was left uncleaned to serve as a reminder of the change.
From this narrative, we can derive the pause as falling into two theses: the ‘perceived’ and ‘actual’ way people and materials pause.
- Why do people pause? What are they doing? How do they pause? What impact does it leave on them and the environment around them?
- Are materials actually ever in a true state of pause? If all materials go through (generally imperceivable) change, why do we design as if buildings will never change?
If we consider that “the museum is particularly well suited to serve as an experimental sociological model, since it is, on the one hand, a place where individuals develop an awareness of self and society … while on the other it exerts a three-dimensional effect within a verifiable and limited framework” (Lehmbruck, 2001) museums are primed to interrogate both facets of the pause.
Lehmbruck (2001) also stated that “the museum’s position in relation to the public can be defined as an interaction between sociological self-representation and self-realization. The museum curator here acts as a catalyst“. To this, I propose that the catalyst is rebranded a ‘facilitator’ to curate pauses – an action, an object, a feeling. The facilitator is about breaking automatic flows of action or consciousness and recognising the moments of lull, and demanding the inhabitant experiences an altered relationship with their reality and surroundings.
The Cloudscape is the facilitator and the curator; sculpting, creating and simultaneously documenting the pause.
The Cloudscape offers new forms of interaction between the subject, the pause, and the architecture. Physical boundaries are blurred, demanding engagement and consideration within new spaces that are constantly forming. The Cloudscape undermines and manipulates your expectations when you enter the familiar Grand Central by having grown and morphed each time you see it – serving to change your whole attitude in the station. You will question your perceptions of people, space and material during inhabitation; whilst as an outside observer unwittingly manifesting as the scrutinised subject in the meta-experience of the pause.
Through collecting experiences and architecture, The Cloudscape offers a true understanding of the travel hub which forms such an integral part of New York. It is by quantifying the change the pivotal Grand Central Terminal has seen across the hours, days, weeks, and years through growth, that the Cloudscape forms a microcosm of New York City itself.