Three sites remain in the final stretch of this light odyssey. Reflecting North across the survey collection from eleven latitudes I am reminded of the locality in which this work takes place and the subtlety with which to consider the details. Factors such as near and far topography, the cloud depth and quantity, local materials shaping reflectivity, and weather patterns condition the sun’s light as it reaches the instruments. Framing this collection then is a challenge in format and range. Shown here are four site sample images of light quality captured in the dish from sunrise to sunset. Each sample from the Southern Hemisphere can be read from left to right as time passes from morning to night with each slice taken from the same section in the center of the dish.
In route from Seattle to the third project site _N45 for another set of light tracking, image gathering, and content sorting. Returning to the road is now a familiar reminder of the pace, weight, and gear required to capture the ever changing light. This contrast between framework and result was celebrated during a recent sharing of the project in Seattle’s Suyama Space with enlarged sketches indexing equipment on the floor while a projection of light images streamed on the wall. Sharing both the light and the equipment tracking light tethers any aesthetic or sublime to the project groundwork and the essential context from which the work takes place.
Located in East Lubbock and forming Dunbar Historical Lake sits a modest dam patch-worked with graffiti cover paint swatches and weathered by dirt, hail, ice, and sun. This dam is a great example of infrastructure becoming event space. The straight and engineered wall is a striking contrast to the irregular wetland edge bordering most of the lake perimeter and the dam top offers access as well as a refreshing perspective to the water body interior. Often people walk the dam line, fish from one edge, sun bath on the warm concrete surface, race along the slope face, and leap from chute block to chute block making a playground of mere infrastructure.
Views from the dam top reveal the manufactured existence of these Lubbock lakes and appropriately frames the colliding condition of necessity meeting nature as is found around West Texas. Adjacent to this dam and spillway runs Canyon Lake Drive where tire marks reveal the burnout joy of going from 0 to 80 mph launching up an incline. Although evident of age, this concrete landscape is a successful mark in the Lubbock terrain as it provides for people on multiple scales, from people pleasure to infrastructure needs.
At 70 mph and timed right with the setting sun’s golden hour the wind turbine farm along HWY 84 between Lubbock and Dallas performs, and can be appreciated, just as Walter De Maria’s The Lightning Field in New Mexico.
Only when placed in repetition, like one sees in wind turbine farms, Dia Art Foundation work, or harbor ports, do I appreciate the obstruction of a pole in the landscape. It is unfortunate then to observe installation of utility lighting as single steel stadium-like poles along the Marsha Sharp highway extension in Lubbock, Texas instead of lights suspended from lattice tower structures. The primary organization of these stadium-like poles is a factor of the road condition, such as highway overpasses increase light needs, instead for example the distance between poles determined as a factor of wind dynamics across turbine blades.
With lattice tower structures you have two opportunities of reading the structure:
one to see the object, and two, to see through the object.
One can not see through a utility pole. Instead you are left with a singular condition, just the object itself. Additionally lattice tower structures are able to use smaller steel members, such as 1.5″ angle iron, to achieve the open airy matrix. Lattice tower structures probably require more labor for assembly but the monolithic poles as objects alone offer no relationship of scaling between the person and environment. We are left with just the object, no space, rather than a relationship or material, space, and landscape.
Santiago, Chile offers a great sampling of building tower textures with articulated envelopes, street-to-building and building-to-sky transitions. Each enclosure incorporates an understanding of depth in the exterior building skin and orientation through various facade treatments. Interruptions along the exterior such as operable windows, balconies, structure articulation, and entries provide an incremental measurement to the potentially scaleless mass. While a playful combination of materials and textures negotiates the performance of exterior assemblies to interior effects.
Five lanes is the standard width for Lubbock main streets: four driving lanes and a medium or turning lane in the center. Standard street width of twelve feet over five lanes results in sixty feet total driving width. Although lane width and duplication may assist to keep traffic moving fast as soon as one exists their vehicle this city roadway system and corresponding urban building makes for an expansive, vacant, always full of potential but ultimately awkward environment.
Alleyways in Lubbock provide a polarizing opposite experience.
Alleyways in Lubbock collectively make an urban Secret Garden, that is the garden prior to being cultivated and groomed. Here the garden is sliced into strips, organized East-West and evenly distributed throughout the city. The larger orientation of seemingly endless views formed by urban alignment strikes an enjoyable balance with random plants and material edges. Spatially, meandering through alleys is more interesting because the width is a relatively narrow fifteen feet and variation occurs over smaller increments presenting a far more complex and diverse environment.
Lubbock alley infrastructure challenges typical urban front-back relations. Unfortunately Main street and buildings typically honor the vehicular facade where excessively vast and predictable street faces create visual continuity but passive spatial environments. Alternatively alleys offer more interest to the person because of the material collage, inventiveness, variation, and diversity. Wonder created from the context draws in one’s focus and offers dialogue with one’s imagination.
Heading East on US-82 / TX-114 one could easily pass St. Michael’s Park in Ralls, Texas without ever taking notice. This small plot of land south of the interstate bordered by light steel framing simply blends into the horizon. What initially appears as a dumb grouping of metal sticks and corrugated roofing is a successful assemblage of implied rooms, subtle axes and one radical scale change.
Late afternoon with what appeared to be most of the town across the highway at the new ball park cheering on their team St. Michael’s stood silent with a stage, two bleachers and a series of stalls equipped with electricity. Entering, I appreciated the chamfered corner threshold that brought me directing inline with the intersection of two axes, one running parallel with the highway the other perpendicular, created by the repetition of open stalls. A quiet boundary wrapped the park formed only from metal roofing, posts and a few horizontal bars at thirty six inches.
Standing at the top of the bleachers, about 4′ above the Llano Estacado, I was introduced to an intimate yet connected space on this high Texas plain. Noises and wind still reached me and I could see for miles but the roof was close and framing was to my back providing a sense of enclosure I had yet to experience outdoors. I was above the ground while still being a part of land, I was exposed to the elements and sheltered overhead.
Refreshingly the architecture of St. Michael’s park is not visually dense, loud or flashy. This park is a combination of frames and planes, built by convention, accessible to the human and modifiable at will. The scale and orientation is spot on and seasonal character is recorded in the weathering material. Only a few discongruent components exist: terminated edges should be more continuous, the decorated gate is unnecessary, and stage is too isolated. Yet all of those are secondary to the skeleton of St. Michael’s. This is a place I easily imagine weekend markets, local performances, grilling, parties and play. And when the park is not in use the architecture merges back into the horizon offering a reminder of the landscape that West Texans live and work in.