40% of the world –
2,700,000,000 persons – does not have electricity
In Sinhalese, the
primary language of
Most of
25% of the annual
According to the Indianapolis Star, there are 7,000
vacant houses in the city.
Moving through the world
with one’s eyes, heart, and mind open is to realize the challenges confronting
most people. It is to come to terms with
preconceptions of what it means to make buildings, of the limits of what is
considered relevant ‘architectural knowledge’ in the West and Westernized
schools, of the potentials that exist out there and in each of us. What can be done as an architect to address
the world’s realities?
I’m
building an arbor in my backyard. I work
on it every day.
Made
primarily of no cost materials (cut maple, birch, and beech saplings and downed
branches), the structure is impermanent, incomplete, in need of constant
attention. No money, no electricity, and
no trucks were allowed, even though I have money, electricity, and a
driveway. The galvanized steel frame,
inspired by canopy struts found in the garage attic, will remain or it will be
discarded easily by new homeowners.
First,
seven galvanized steel pipe columns. A pipe
beam spans five, perpendicular to floating columns, diagonal back. $337. Thirteen cut sapling columns and beams. Wire connectors. Hundreds of thin saplings. Found objects. Steel mesh skin. Lights, vine.
Tools: hack saw, tape measure, level, pliers, gardening shears.
The arbor
sees much living. In summer, vines and morning glories grow a green roof. My wife is better when in the hammock. The roots of a surging maple tree expose themselves
to our feet. Many birds – including a
hawk, squirrels, chipmunks, and cats now animate our lives. Former student Jerome is the primary
designer; Sohith contributed early. Architecture
students – Kurt, Laura, Steve, Brooke, Ryan, Nick, Jenn, Adam, James -- provide
important ideas. We extend our lessons,
seeing anew together. What we build, as
we talk, remains. I build from what they
create, focus my vision through the lenses they provide.
About dying. A sapling column
sprouted the first spring, even though dead!!
Moon flowers BLOOM as we sleep; awake, we find them exhausted. The arbor is bare in autumn, leaves gone,
vine quiet. My father died ten years ago
and, as I write this, my mother is dead nine months, both of cancer. Mom’s rolling pin and thin scraps from my
dad’s woodshop -- some he harvested from his father’s forest, hauled out, rough
cut, dried, and finished for his use (which never happened) – resist winter’s
snow.
I’m
building an arbor in my backyard. I work
on it every day.