White Tents Revisited

Conceptually, the original proposal for this project attempted to explore two ideas: uncertainty and precise indeterminacy.

The courtyard between the Chace Center and Metcalf building was chosen as the location for the proposal due to its heavy traffic of both RISD students and the general public. I envisioned this type of transitional space to work best in testing the two ideas I mentioned previously.

The white tents represent mini space makers. I want people to circulate through them as they move through the site. They would move from outside to inside and back to outside. I want them to spark curiosity and ambiguity. I see them as an opportunity to describe circulation. The experiment would explore whether people conform to the circulation path or describe their own.
I plan on revising the original program of the tents. Initially, I envisioned the program to include food stations, work space, social gathering, and circulation. Realistically, many of these are not feasible because of limited resources and finances.

Additionally, my original proposal primarily focused on RISD students and failed to address ways of uniting the general public with campus. After re-reading Bourriaud’s Relational Aesthetics, I have explored alternate ideas for the program of the white tents. Bourriaud states, “Art is a state of encounter…a work can function as a relational device in which there is a degree of randomness.” I am very much interested in this idea of randomness and uncertainty. Bourriaud also writes, “It can be a machine for provoking and managing individual or collective encounters.” Using the idea of art as a tool for social encounter, I have developed a new proposal. There will be a different art project inside each tent. As people move through the site, they will have the opportunity to add to the piece of art. Multiple tents may be used to house one piece of art. Not only will students and other community members have the opportunity to contribute to the art, but they will be able to decide which piece of art they would like to contribute to. For example, one of the art projects will be a large mural for painting and drawing, another will be adding clay to a large piece of sculpture, adding a chosen word to a large paragraph, and a performance art tent.

This new proposal allows members of the community (who may not be associated with RISD) to become involved with students and the school. It’s a way to promote creativity through social interaction. The artwork begins to define a history of the previous people who passed through the space. It’s uncertain what the end result will be. People may or may not visit the site at other times throughout the day to see how the artwork is changing and developing. Some of the pieces may be much more developed than others due to popularity and interests of the people traveling through the site.

I have diagramed possible formations of the tents.

The first formation describes a linear circulation through the site. The red lines represent possible routes of encounter with the tents and the blue represents a possible route of avoidance. This formation explores how people may react to the tents. Will people use them as circulation and go through them to get across the site? Or will people treat them as furniture in a living room and go around them?

The second formation describes routes that allow people to move in multiple directions of the site. Additionally, this formation describes the tents in both individual and cluster formations. The tents are arranged so that smaller pockets of space are created. Will people use these new activated zones for gathering?

The third formation describes the tents in two linear arrangements. Possible circulation routes allow people to move in the center of the two lines or routes through the tents. This formation explores the typical “flee-market” arrangement.

The fourth formation pushes the tents to one side of the site. This arrangement allows people to freely pass through the site without being confronted with the tents. Interaction with the tents is by choice only. This arrangement explores whether or not the ambiguity of the tents attracts people to see what is going on inside them.

Like I mentioned previously, I am interested in uncertainty. I am uncertain what the projected outcome of the event will be. That being said, I want to receive specific results from the experiment. I see both the failure and success of the space to be extremely valuable. In fact, I hope that I see a mixture of both. My actions during the experiment will have to respond to the failure of the space. Can I re-arrange or change the tents during the experiment to respond to how people are passing through the space. Which formation was receiving better results? The result of the experiment will not be something that I gather at the end of the day but rather continuously throughout the entirety of the intervention. What aspects had to change? What things about the space attracted people to stay and use the tents? How were people interacting with each other? Were students meeting fellow students they had never met before? Was the ambiguity and uncertainty of the space attracting students to stay rather than pass through?

Additionally, I hope that the physical relic of the artwork informs me something about the experiment. How were students reacting to the art compared to the general public? What were students saying to each other and members of the public? Were people interested in seeing what the final piece of art looked like at the end of the day? Were people even interested in contributing to the art?

This project excites me because of its uncertainty. I am unsure if this type of event could habitually occur on campus. However, I am hoping it will begin to show whether the physical location of the site (an in-between space on campus with heavy circulation going through it), and the idea of the space (an amorphous, uncertain, and changing space, with multiple programs), can have positive results on campus.

White Tents

Through conducting interviews and listening to other presentations, it is clear that RISD students need unity outside of the studio.

If we think of RISD for a moment as a small city, Jacobs explains, “It is so easy to fall into the trap of contemplating a city’s uses one at a time.” I fall into this trap and apparently many other students do as well. RISD can easily be defined as a city with many individual businesses that serve different uses.

Continuing with the metaphor of a city, there is no denial that RISD is a diverse place – artists with varied backgrounds, skills, nationalities, religion, and aspirations. Jacobs writes, “City diversity itself permits and stimulates more diversity.” Jacobs’ four conditions for diversity are all present on RISD’s campus. On paper, it appears to have all the ingredients to be a very powerful place that facilitates unity and growth.

So, why isn’t it?

Why is it that the four students I interviewed have never met each other before? Does this matter?

Is RISD as diverse as I think it really is? (We can look at admission statistics to ascertain this information, but more importantly: Does RISD FEEL as diverse as it actually is?) Is this what students need? Personally, I get extremely excited when I meet someone outside of the architecture department. It is during this time that I remember that I am a RISD student. In that moment it reminds me why I chose to come to RISD – to be completely immersed with the best designers and artists in the world. How can a community space exist which utilizes RISD’s diversity and sustain itself for growth?

It is apparent that I am eager to find a way to answer all the questions I have.

A proposed plan for a public intervention may begin to address my curiosity. I have chosen the courtyard between the Chace Center and the Metcalf building as a location for a simple reason – it’s an in-between space on campus that is used for circulation by many students in differing departments as well as people not affiliated by the school at all.

Why is this space more appropriate than Market Square?

Although, Market Square is also utilized as heavily for circulation, the Chace Center courtyard, for the moment, is more of an ambiguous space. Market Square has places to sit which begin to suggest programmatic intentions. Although, spring is not here yet, I have never seen anyone sit on the steps in the museum’s courtyard. In contrast, I have seen people utilize Market Square for rest in the winter.

My interview with Tyler Denmead sparked my interest with ambiguous and uncertain spaces. It became evident that the success of New Urban Arts was greatly influenced by its completely amorphous space that changes daily. It’s unclear where one office or studio starts and ends.

Taking ideas from my interview with Tyler as inspiration, I have proposed a question that is the conceptual basis for the public intervention: “Will a changing, uncertain space, that responds to people’s actions within the space, promote a unified community?”

It is important to note that my proposal for the public intervention is an experiment. The formal qualities of the intervention are of little significance, they would purely exist to facilitate the conceptual question that I established previously. The experiment could begin to show whether or not RISD is capable of supporting this type of space and more importantly, demonstrate whether or not RISD students hold shared values about it.

The interview with Tyler also brought forward issues regarding the notion of the physical location of space versus the idea of the space. The courtyard at the Chace Center represents the physical location of the space. It is my hope that the experiment will test the idea of the space. The results may show if the idea of the space can manifest itself in other spaces on campus – possibly in more of a permanent location in the future.

The script of the event is as follows. I plan on setting up individual white tents inside the courtyard for one complete day. Why white tents? Firstly, I want the tents to be seen as mini space makers. I want people to circulate through them as they move through the site. They would move from outside to inside and back to outside. I want them to spark curiosity and ambiguity. Why are they here? Do they begin to define and influence the path people are taking through the courtyard?

I also see them as a way to define specific program. Each tent may have a specific program. One tent can be designated as work space, another for a food stand, one for socializing, and the others simply for circulation. Multiple tents could have similar or the same program. It is my intention that the program of the specific tent is not apparent on the outside. By traveling through them, the public understands what you do inside them. People will ether pass right through them and ignore the event taking place inside, or the event may slow down their path and spark curiosity and interest.

Although each tent has a specific function or program, I want there to be a sense of no barriers. I want people to understand that although each tent is a separate component, they are all interrelated to one another. Multiple tents could be positioned in a way so that more than one is defining an interior space. The program in these specially positioned tents could have the “open shell” idea that Tyler defined in my interview with him.

Another aspect of the experiment is the concept of precise indeterminacy; the idea that the designer constructs a “generative system of formal production, controls its behavior over time, and selects forms that emerge from its operation” (Kolarevic 26). I want the program of each tent to be defined yet allow the people who engage the space to affect what happens inside it. For example, if the “work space” tent has benches inside, will students move the benches around? Will they move the benches outside the tent all together? I want the space to continuously change as more students pass through it. I want the tents to be responsive to the students. Is it possible for the program within the tent to completely transform as students see fit.

Like I mentioned previously, I am interested in uncertainty. I am uncertain what the projected outcome of the event will be. That being said, I want to receive specific results from the experiment. I see both the failure and success of the space to be extremely valuable. In fact, I hope that I see a mixture of both. My actions during the experiment will have to respond to the failure of the space. Can I re-arrange or change the tents during the experiment to respond to how people are passing through the space. The result of the experiment will not be something that I gather at the end of the day but rather continuously throughout the entirety of the intervention. What aspects had to change? What things about the space attracted people to stay and use the tents? How were people interacting with each other? Were students meeting fellow students they had never met before? Was the ambiguity and uncertainty of the space attracting students to stay rather than pass through?

It is too presumptuous to think that the results of this experiment will be the answer to RISD’s lack of a unified community. However, I am hoping it will begin to show whether the physical location of the site (an in-between space on campus with heavy circulation going through it), and the idea of the space (an amorphous, uncertain, and changing space, with multiple programs, can have positive results on campus.

Organic Space

I had the opportunity to sit down with Tyler Denmead, co-founder of New Urban Arts. Although the conversation took place at the CIT, I was able to gain an understanding of the incredibly intriguing space that exists at New Urban Arts.

New Urban Arts was founded in 1997 while Tyler was a senior at Brown University. During this time, Tyler was active with Brown’s public engagement department. His desire to get involved with a public project dealing with creativity led to the creation of the program.

Tyler was interested in the idea of “nest building.” This was a concept that Tyler repeated throughout the interview. He stated, “relationships are situated and need a place…the studio space itself was a transient and dynamic place.”

When asked more about the space itself, Tyler explained that there was an interest in an “open shell” concept for the studio. This meant that there were no classrooms, no studios, and no offices. There was a desire to blur boundaries of all the disciplines within the space. This created an ambiguity and uncertainty of people’s practices – all different practices were visible inside the space simultaneously.

I was very interested in the initial concept of the space. Tyler explained that a lack of resources in the beginning played a critical role in the way the studio was arranged. The floor plan continuously changed on a daily basis. Walls and other areas of the space were torn down constantly. Offices in the studio lacked walls. The space reflected its values – it represented the intellectual aspect of no barriers.

There were many hardships that went with this type of environment. They were bound by a lease that prevented them from being completely free to do as they pleased. Problems arose in the first year which brought up questions of moving to another building. This caused great concern for the artist mentors who were completely attached to the space they were currently in. There were questions of whether or not the space could be recreated in another building.

Tyler explained that it wasn’t about the actual space they were physically in. People were upset about losing the idea of the space. This was a very important point that Tyler made. I asked Tyler if he felt the idea of the space could be transported to another location and be as successful as the initial space. He explained that it takes more than just the idea. The idea is created by the people within a space. Without the people in a space who share the same disposition, the idea cannot be created.

Today, the studio is in the same building as it was ten years ago. Despite minor additions like a silk screening studio, supply closets, and work storage, the space still remains as dynamic and organic as it initially was. Tyler explained that there is little order to how space is arranged. This played a major role in its success. A definitive process as to how space is divided or used has never existed. This is a very important idea of space – a living, organic, amorphous being.

I asked Tyler about the legacy of his program outside of the studio and providence. He is interested in notions of ambiguity, uncertainty, flux, and dynamism and how all of these have a relationship to learning and experience. He explained that it would be incredibly interesting to do a time-lapse movie of the studio over a long period of time and map how the space changes so drastically and constantly. In school, students never experience a dynamic space. Tyler jokingly stated that the space “doesn’t value cleanliness, order, resources, safety, and that it was a dump.”

I also asked him if he had a desire to try setting up a similar studio in another location. He stated that he feels pressure to try this somewhere else – even as a model. He wants others to experience how successful the space really is. However, the success of the space cannot just happen if the idea is there. New Urban Arts emerged at a particular time and under particular experiences. Tyler explained that if this idea came to him today instead of ten years ago, the studio would never have happened and would not be successful. Through sharing his story, he believes other educators and artists can use their own experiences to create a space like New Urban.

There are certain aspects that have to exist: an organic, changing space within a specific site, and shared values of the people. With these initial aspects, the practice within the space could manifest itself in many different ways.

One theme in our conversation was the notion of “the institution.” New Urban Arts is very self conscious of not institutionalizing itself. Instead there is an interest in an impermanent intervention. Tyler explained that the program is subversive yet risks becoming its own institution. They are cautious of anything that makes them appear superior or exclusive to only certain types of people. The studio celebrates all the different types of people who are part of the program and who come from many varied backgrounds, disciples, and skills.

We ended the conversation talking again about the idea of the constantly changing space in the studio. Tyler jokingly admitted that some people think that this notion of a dynamic or ever-changing space means that everything has to be on wheels. He explained that it cannot be as literal or contrived as this to be successful.

How do we use space?

Each person I interviewed was asked the same four questions; 1. Name and department, 2. Do you live on campus or off campus, 3. How do you define your space(s) on campus, and finally, 4. Do you associate any place(s) off campus as an influence on your RISD experience.
Interview #1.
Zoe Wendell – sophomore in the jewelry department
Zoe transferred from the University of the Arts in Chicago, Illinois. She described her space on campus to be her jewelry bench in the sophomore jewelry studio. Zoe lives off campus in an apartment fifteen minutes away from campus. Being a transfer student, she felt that the friends she associates with are her fellow jewelry classmates. She is involved in a serious relationship which she felt also defined another space in her life. Zoe also stated that RISD lacked a community that united students from other departments and that she did not associate with many students outside of jewelry.
Interview #2
Hyejung Park – 1st year graduate student in the furniture department
Hyejung Park is from Korea and studied industrial design as an undergraduate in her native county before coming to RISD. She defined three separate spaces on campus as part of her community on campus. The space that she most occupies is the graduate furniture workshop. The second space is her desk space in the Prov Wash building. The third space is the CIT building where she takes class and has another work space. Hyejung noted that although the three spaces are all in different locations on campus, the people she associates with in them are all the same. It wasn’t the specific location of the building that defined her community, but rather the people in them that traveled from location to location. She also mentioned that she defines a space off campus that influences her experience at RISD. Hyejung enjoys time alone for herself at Jamestown State Park. She travels once a month to the park to escape studio and have time for herself.
Interview #3
Joshua Weinberg – 4th year architecture student
Joshua is an undergraduate in the architecture school. He used to live off campus in the Carriage House before it was condemned. The space on campus he associates the most with is his desk in the studio. The architecture studio is a second home for him. Joshua especially appreciates his space in the studio because he feels architecture students have very nice working conditions. He appreciates the well designed desk and storage area in the studio. He stated that he would not feel as connected to his space in the studio if the work conditions were not great. He stated he felt “lost” without the architecture studio when he had to take a class outside of the department during the winter session. Interestingly enough, most of Joshua’s friends are outside of the architecture department. The Wild Colonial is a space that he felt united students from multiple departments. Before his apartment was condemned, he hosted many dinners with friends and other students around campus. Now he feels no attachment to his current apartment.
Interview #4
Andre Herrero – sophomore architecture student
For the last interview, I wanted to interview a fellow student who I see on a regular basis. I was interested in seeing how his answers compared to mine and the other students I interviewed. Andre described the architecture studio as the definition of his space on campus. He stated that the people in the studio defined his space rather than the work. Andre explained that his work is merely a product of his space. Currently, Andre is homeless. He used to live in 15 West but could not afford the rent for the spring semester. All he has is a closet at one of his friend’s house and a bed at his girlfriend’s house. Andre feels that RISD does not lack community. However, he stated that it’s up to the students to find community at RISD by being active about attending parties and other interdisciplinary programs.

Zoe Wendell

Hyejung Park

Joshua Weinberg

Andre Herrero

Architecture Studio Dynamics

“In small settlements, everyone knows your affairs. In the city everyone does not.” Every day I walk the unfamiliar, private life of the city street into the familiar, public settlement of the architecture studio. I walk pass business men, homeless people, students, and the like, and remain completely a private stranger. This privatized, city street life that Jacobs describes, represents one community that I belong to. This represents a stark contrast to the public and open community of the architecture studio that I engage in daily. The studio is where privacy ceases to exist. Whether or not by choice, architecture students become familiar with the people around them and the conversations that they are forced to listen to or become engaged in.
Jane Jacobs discusses the notion of trust when describing relationships between customers who leave their keys with local merchants. This type of relationship exists in the studio as well. The studio is a place that only thrives when students help one another out. Borrowing and lending supplies and information is a daily routine that is common practice in the studio. A system of “what’s mine is yours” quickly develops and students begin to trust one another. This notion of trust in the studio is essential. It exists because the studio is not a private place. Clear boundaries of individual space are ambiguous and most areas become shared spaces. Individual desks become unlocked homes in an urban neighborhood. The spaces between the desks become city streets and sidewalks where interaction is normal and natural. No one is a stranger. Everyone knows each other and trust is quickly established.
Jacobs describes situations on the streets of New York where people look out for one another and invest themselves in bettering the community as a whole. Jacobs describes Bernie, a local candy store owner, as an active community member who is engaged in the lives of fellow community members on a daily basis. The relationship he develops with customers goes beyond the business aspect of his job. He is interested in doing his part to contribute to the welfare of the community. I see this same notion in the architecture studio. As students, we have the responsibility of attending class, getting work completed in time, and participating in class. There has never been a rule or obligation to help fellow classmates when a peer is struggling. However, this notion of helping one another out is a vital part of the dynamics of the studio. Classmates become invested in each other’s work. If a student is producing less then acceptable work, it brings down the rest of the class.
The architecture studio is broken into sections for the semester. The students within a section become incredibly close to one another. The majority of our time is spent with the same ten students in studio. However, the students outside of a section become individuals that we interact with frequently as well. Jacobs describes the idea of two people from the same apartment who have never spoken to one another suddenly becoming “best friends” when interacting out of the context of the apartment building. This is very similar to occurrences outside of the architecture studio. Students who may have never had a conversation in the studio will greet one another while passing on the sidewalk. Architecture is notorious for its grueling work load and frequent all-nighters. Students who share this similar experience have a common thread that unites them outside of the studio.