# boiteaoutils becomes THE FUNAMBULIST
1 year ago
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Reality of N.O.
I arrived in New Orleans January 2008, in the middle of Mardi-Gras celebrations and with the ambition of completing some park furniture in a park in the lower ninth ward. My drive from the airport was riddled with excitement as I soaked up the carnival fever that surrounded me; it seemed that the entire city was on the streets merrily drinking and laughing in costume. I fell in love with the city almost immediately, from the thrills of Mardi-Gras, albeit sometimes shocking, to the quaint streets of the French Quarter with its overhanging balconies and intricate lace work, the green that sprouted from every cavity around the city, and the people who appeared warm and carefree.
It wasn’t until I visited the ninth ward a couple of days later after having reveled in the delights of downtown that the true effects of Katrina began to resonate and a slightly guilty feeling set in.
The lower ninth ward looked to me as if it was hit by the hurricane only days earlier. Two years had passed since Katrina and power and water were still scarce with only a few houses starting to rebuild and the majority sitting empty in a vast landscape that seemed to be waiting, tired, as I imagined its original occupants. The contrast to the vibrancy of the bursting with life French Quarter and Garden District was breathtaking; it seemed to me now that affluent neighborhoods were left relatively unscathed by Katrina and poverty stricken neighborhoods unfortunately were hit the hardest. As quick as I fell in love with the city I now felt immense pain for her. Earlier feelings of confidence and purpose were now replaced with inadequacies and naivety. What if any difference is a park bench going to make to a devastated community like this that is in need of so much more?
In a neighborhood where people seemed to lack jobs, coordinated reconstruction plans, financial assistance or emergency housing, and with the clear action of inaction imposed by powers above it was hard to not feel a little hopeless. The days marched on though, as sure as the parade happening only a few miles away, and we worked.
As the project developed something happened and it was clear to all of us that one small action, a sign that someone hasn’t forgotten, could facilitate to raise the spirits of a tired community. Passers by would stop and want to hear about the benches, local teens paused from their basketball game and helped clean bricks, and neighbours were sincerely appreciative. In a disastrous terrain surrounded by debris and long abandoned homes a couple of benches and some effort were valued on a level that none of us I think expected.
It was at this moment that I again felt the warmth of New Orleans touch my heart and realized that the social strength in this neighbourhood could rebuild the ninth ward if determination was all that was needed. Small architectural interventions that spark this community spirit are rewarding and extremely valuable, and in 72 hours my initial feelings of excitement, then helplessness were now so grateful that I had been able to experience the resilience and strength from the people of this area.
It wasn’t until I visited the ninth ward a couple of days later after having reveled in the delights of downtown that the true effects of Katrina began to resonate and a slightly guilty feeling set in.
The lower ninth ward looked to me as if it was hit by the hurricane only days earlier. Two years had passed since Katrina and power and water were still scarce with only a few houses starting to rebuild and the majority sitting empty in a vast landscape that seemed to be waiting, tired, as I imagined its original occupants. The contrast to the vibrancy of the bursting with life French Quarter and Garden District was breathtaking; it seemed to me now that affluent neighborhoods were left relatively unscathed by Katrina and poverty stricken neighborhoods unfortunately were hit the hardest. As quick as I fell in love with the city I now felt immense pain for her. Earlier feelings of confidence and purpose were now replaced with inadequacies and naivety. What if any difference is a park bench going to make to a devastated community like this that is in need of so much more?
In a neighborhood where people seemed to lack jobs, coordinated reconstruction plans, financial assistance or emergency housing, and with the clear action of inaction imposed by powers above it was hard to not feel a little hopeless. The days marched on though, as sure as the parade happening only a few miles away, and we worked.
As the project developed something happened and it was clear to all of us that one small action, a sign that someone hasn’t forgotten, could facilitate to raise the spirits of a tired community. Passers by would stop and want to hear about the benches, local teens paused from their basketball game and helped clean bricks, and neighbours were sincerely appreciative. In a disastrous terrain surrounded by debris and long abandoned homes a couple of benches and some effort were valued on a level that none of us I think expected.
It was at this moment that I again felt the warmth of New Orleans touch my heart and realized that the social strength in this neighbourhood could rebuild the ninth ward if determination was all that was needed. Small architectural interventions that spark this community spirit are rewarding and extremely valuable, and in 72 hours my initial feelings of excitement, then helplessness were now so grateful that I had been able to experience the resilience and strength from the people of this area.
Metropolitan Housing Laboratory 2007
It is estimated that Melbourne will grow by 600,000 dwellings in the next 25 years. Despite various national policies for the containment of urban housing, the predominant model of general housing provision in Australia continues to be the detached house provided by small scale building industries operating with little design input. The market is dominated by small operators building dwellings with a 'one size fits all' approach with 3-4 bedrooms and a poor environmental and social sustainability. This house type, a suitable model for the nuclear family of the 50's and 60's, is ill-equipped to address the needs of the increasingly varied and hetrogeneous groups that constitute our contemporary city. By 2016 couple families with no children will be the predominant type in Australia. Lone person households are projected to show the greastest percentage increase of all household types in Australia. The house size in Australia is also rising. Research by the CSIRO advises that house volume has been recognized as the major contributing factor to the emission of greenhouse gases. As house sizes increase, emissions are likely to worsen. The following two investigations look to alternative housing design to attempt to create a sustainable future for the development of new housing.
Exposing the Banal Installation 2007
An evolution of spacial arrangements of constructivist nature responding to the immediate environment. Reacting to Melbourne's ability to celebrate the 'ordinary' and transform ones perception of beauty.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
