wall space

RISD students, for the most part, remain within the boundaries of their departments. We spend the majority of our time in studio, and when we are in a common, on-campus space (like the dining halls, the RISD store, the library, or the mailroom) it is either brief, with people from our major, or by ourselves. We are very protective of our own studios and shops, and don't easily welcome outsiders to our major space. As we saw this year (with the addition of the "student center" to the RISD store), when community space is labeled for us, it is completely rejected and ignored. In addition, it isn't realistic to have a student center on campus. We both have limited free time, and the free time we do have rarely overlaps between majors.

Often it seems like there is little or no community at RISD, but this is precisely why we are a community. RISD students are bound by their passion for art and design. Because we are so passionate we spend all of our time working and little time socializing. A community space at RISD needs to respond to the way students live and work. A community space should be open to RISD students, and the public. It should be flexible, it should evolve, it should be organic.

The bathroom stalls in the buildings on campus (especially in those that house more than one major) have developed a wealth of conversations on the walls. These messages have created an immense since of ownership and community. New drawings or text appear daily, responses to these materialize, alterations occur, and before long there are layers of student communication. Moreover, this type of communication is anonymous which allows people feel safe, and thus, more honest. 

My proposal is to emulate the bathroom phenomenon by allowing the space between Memorial Hall and the museum, from Benefit St. to the Chase center, to permanently be a completely open, unstructured, non-policed space for 2-D and 3-D work of any medium by students and the public (graffiti, text, sculpture, ads, installations, whatever). This will allow people to contribute, on their own time, in their own way, to an ongoing conversation and common body of work. Also, it will, in a way, be a daily show of current student’s effort and thought. Because of its location on Benefit St. and behind the Chase center, it both is a highly trafficked and central space for RISD students, and it might help to suck the local, non-RISD, population into the bowels of our campus to interact with and learn about students and their work. Also, it will, in a way, be a daily show of current student’s work and thoughts.

This budget for this proposal is $0. It is funded and maintained completely by students and the public. All is takes is an approval by someone up top, and completely ignoring that space when it comes to cleaning and maintenance.

Bathroom conversations

After interviewing fellow RISD students and local artists, I started to look closer at where, on campus, I felt a sense of community.

Almost all of the responses from RISD students were either convenient places, like the dining halls, or places specific to a group of people, like studios. These results reaffirmed the idea that RISD students, for the most part, stay within the boundaries of their department. This consists of studio spaces, shops, and near-by cafes. Department studio spaces and shops certainly create a sense of community and ownership, but they also brew animosity and departmental prejudice that exacerbates the department bubble syndrome. The cafes or coffee shops that happen to overlap people of different departments only happen by convenience and hold no real sense of community (ex: cable car: I.D. and Architecture). In addition to the reclusive nature of departments, any and all attempts to create a common space on campus were not only not used, but also completely rejected (RISD store ‘student space’).

At RISD, we may not be a community by social interaction, but we are a theoretical community, grouped because of our passion for art and design. I think this community rejection speaks to our theoretical connection. As artists and creators, we want to make our own space or mark; we don’t want to be told where to be social. Labeling is a huge problem as far as creating a common space is concerned. In her book, Jacobs rejects new urban planning and supports diverse, organic growth in cities. This applies to RISD, but 10 fold. A community space at RISD needs to be informal, flexible, and constantly evolving.

I began to think about the places I frequent on campus, and if I really felt attached to or apart of any one of them that was outside of my department space. I decided that for me, some of the bathroom stalls on campus have the best sense of community.

I started to reminisce about the first floor bathroom on the front side of Bank building. Last year this space belonged solely to my department (furniture design), but felt so much bigger than that. The Bank building was home to the painting department several years before, and I’m not sure what else before that. The bathroom is extremely small (barely room for one), and the walls hadn’t been cleaned in years. Because of this, a wealth of conversations (political and vulgar), drawings (funny and dirty), and tags had built up to cover every surface of the room. I loved being in that bathroom to read or contribute and felt a true bond to the space. After the Metcalf store moved into the Bank building the bathroom was white washed covering at least a decade of work including my favorite conversation:

-“Do girls poop in here?”
-“Yes.” (in pink, fancy letters drawn to look like turds)

Now, because the studios that used to be in Bank are now in the Metcalf building, I call the 2nd floor bathroom home. This bathroom, too, has built up a diverse and hilarious body of work, and was recently partially covered with blue paint by another student. This vandalizing upset the community of stall users and quickly personal and intellectual attacks on the blue vandal materialized.

Every time I go into this bathroom I am excited to see what has been added or removed or responded to. These walls of the stall have been a way for people in different majors, who otherwise would not usually socialize, to communicate with one another in an unbiased environment. It is an appropriated space for a makeshift community center for students to constantly share ideas, images, jokes, and insults.

My proposal is to allow students and the public to communicate by contributing 2-D and 3-D work to all of the surfaces between the Chase center and Memorial hall (like the bathroom stall). This space is new and sterile, lacking character and any evidence that students actually attend RISD. This space would not be labeled a student space, but would hopefully attract people interested in drawings, conversations, and jokes and inspire them to add. In addition, it might allow for the Chase center to feel like a part of RISD not just a billboard or source of income.

Hope Artiste Village

Hope Artiste Village is a fairly young artist community in a converted mill building on North Main st. (technically in Pawtucket). The was built between 1889 and 1913 to house Hope Webbing. In 2005, it was purchased by Urban Smart Growth (a Los Angeles based company that "takes old mills and under-performing assets and redevelops them into valuable assets for the community.") The H.A.V. now has 134 residences including artists studios, retail shops, workshop studios, and offices. It also has two restaurants, a theater and a saturday farmer's market. In addition, it donates space to local artists and art groups like the Pawtucket Artist Collaborative and the Providence Artist Collaborative. 

Interview with Mike Green

I went to the H.A.V. to interview Mike Green, a recent grad of the Furniture Design master's program, who has had a studio there for several years. I found out about his space because he held his thesis show in another space donated by H.A.V.

Mike does a lot of sculptural work, mostly in metal, in addition to furniture. When looking for a studio he needed a big space (for his tools and work, Mike works big) with high ceilings and lots of light. But, because he had had a studio by himself in the past, he was also looking for a place where he wasn't alone. Mike was the first to move into H.A.V. so he got to see the transformation of the space and community. Initially the building was completely open, factory style, and spaces were built in as they were leased. The side of the building where Mike's studio is located, was allocated as artist studio space, but slowly acquired other businesses as space was needed. There is now an electrical engineer, a kickboxing/martial arts gym, and a dance studio among the artist studios. Mike said that he actually was glad to have these people here because it changed things up a bit, and brought people in who wouldn't normally be around artists studios. This meant a more diverse environment, potential business, and a different perspective for him. Mike admitted that he was not as active as others in the H.A.V. in trying to establish an inner community or more broad community and pointed me down the hall to Keeseh studio.

Interview with Asher Dunn

Asher Dunn graduated from RISD in Industrial Design last year. He now runs Keeseh Studio in H.A.V. with two other RISD grads ( Mark Nicholson: MFA Furniture design, Shane Richards:  BFA Furniture design). Initially Asher was not in his studio because, as I later found out, he was mingling in the Winter Farmer's Market on the opposite side of the building. I also went to the farmer's market to get coffee while I looked for Asher and ran into several current RISD students. We all went back to Asher's studio to look around while I interviewed him. 

Asher described his business/studio to me by calling it a "Fitness Center. Except instead of weights, we have woodworking equipment." Asher sells memberships to and rents space in his well-maintained and organized wood-shop and also runs classes, through the Woodworker's Guild, several times a week. To become a member to the shop you must first pass a test to show that you are competent on all of the machines. If you aren't, they offer training courses. Currently, he is working on running a high school woodworking class in his shop because the school does not have a shop on campus. He called his studio the "third wheel" to AS220 and the Steelyard. "AS220 has mostly 2-D stuff, the Steelyard has metal and ceramics, here we have wood."

He told me that they chose H.A.V. for their studio because of it's diversity in the arts. There are several firms and independent artists with whom they regularly barter services. There is an industrial design firm next door who, in exchange for shop use, helps them with marketing and product development, Asher and the electrical engineer down the hall are currently collaboration on a project, and Asher is working with the H.A.V. community to get regular events and things like a drive-in movie theater in the works.

I thought that the Jacobs passage, The Generators of Diversity, was particularly pertinent to the Hope Artiste Village and what Asher is doing. Jacobs talked about a city as a sort of incubator for diversity, and I think that it what H.A.V. is starting to be. It has a framework of business, living and working space that reaches out to and attracts the local community through classes, events, shows, and businesses that brings in a diverse group of people. When parents come to pick up their kids from dance or martial arts class they can wonder into artist's studios, businesses and restaurants. Local farmers and shoppers at the farmer's market can stumble upon work being displayed or find out about classes offered. Moreover, there is not a strict requirement for what goes where (only a separation of types of spaces), so it allows for a conglomerate of very different types of businesses and people promoting unusual social interactions, partnerships, and favors and creating a way for H.A.V. to grow and be shaped organically by the community it serves.

RISD Interviews

Young Kwang:
Industrial Design Senior
Lives on campus in 15 west
Interview location: 15 west lobby

What community space is most important to you on campus?
Portfolio lounge, Studio (fifth floor ID)

What qualities make this space important? Why do you go there?
It is open 24 hours a day, it is close to food, convenient to where I live, and I can do work there.

I am there all the time with my classmates doing work. It is close to the wood shop and metal shop.

Do you feel there is a RISD community?
Yes, inside departments.


David:
F.A.V. Junior (transfer)
Lives off campus
Interview location: Fleet Library

What community space is most important to you on campus?
There is no important community space for me on campus. I guess the library is one. But I don't come here looking for community, it is just by accident, out of boredom. I work here and looking at the same thing for hours gets really monotonous, sometimes I just stare off and wait until I see someone I know to talk to.

What qualities make this space important? Why do you go there?
(I asked about off campus community spots. Gave example of drawbridge): Gathering in abandoned spaces is a defense against the business casual class. By going to secret places we are seeking to define ourselves. These places are intimate and exclusive. There are these secret concerts in warehouses on the west side. They are not scheduled and only advertised through word of mouth. There is one tomorrow night. Black pus is playing.

Do you feel there is a RISD community?
RISD has a theoretical community. We are all grouped by our interests, but that doesn't mean there is a community inside departments. Just because we are in the same area doesn't make us a community. Interaction through physical labor creates community, not all departments have that. Interaction through intellectual labor usually suppresses community by turning us in on ourselves.


Elsenor (+ 2 friends):
Sophomores in textiles
Lives off campus
Interview location: Portfolio

What community space is most important to you on campus?
Studio. and the Met. The beach (when it is warm)

Coffee exchange, the mall

What qualities make this space important? Why do you go there?
Its basically a convenience thing. They are places we have to go anyways.

The beach is nice when it is warm. People are always there and there is so much risd traffic in that area, you always see someone you know.

Coffee exchange is great to visit to get away from campus, for a change of scenery. It has a certain mood to it. It feels like you know everyone there.

I go to the mall sometimes just to think. It is simple, just a bunch of objects. It is nice to feel anonymous for a while, to blend in. I also like to people watch there.

Do you feel there is a RISD community?
Yes, inside departments. Freshman year in the quad there is a community. Everyone is in the same boat, that helps.


Mike:
Junior in Sculpture
Lives off campus
Interview location: Portfolio

What community space is most important to you on campus?
The steps of memorial hall and frasier terrace. and the beach when its nice. Pretty much that area.

What qualities make this space important? Why do you go there?
Its convenient first of all. It is on my way home. and it is a great place to have a cigarette. Everyone is always out there or walking by so there is always someone to talk to. It has good steps, very inviting and nice and shallow.

Do you feel there is a RISD community?
Freshman year in the quad there is. The Met was a good community space when I was a freshman. Not anymore. Now communities are pretty exclusive to departments.

photos coming soon

The end of the abandoned Seekonk river drawbridge

The Seekonk river drawbridge was built in around 1908, at the same time as the East Side Railway tunnel, to connect East Side and Downtown Providence with East Providence.

It has long since been abandoned and left in the up position. Today, it is accessible by two wooded trails. One behind east side market, and another behind the baseball fields at the end of Power St. To get to the end of the bridge you must tiptoe across rotting and fire damaged railway ties, then duck under a massive steel wall. Once you get on the other side of the wall, you are surrounded by massive steel and wood bridge structure, and while still outside and partly visible, a feeling of comfort and privacy washes over. The 'room' has been decorated on every surface with graffiti, distress, and objects placed or forgotten. Evidence of people, long ago and very recent, is present and you feel like you're in on a great secret, part of an exclusive club.

My friends and I first went to the bridge when we were in the summer transfer program. We had heard about it from some friends and had seen it sticking above the trees near East Side Market. Our first time exploring the bridge we were very paranoid. Knowing that there was only one exit off of the place we were trespassing on and vandalizing was a little disheartening. We started to frequent the bridge and become more comfortable, leaving our marks via aerosol paint. Like any intimate space, after altering it in some way (destructive or productive), you make it yours by putting a piece of yourself into it. Each time we would come back our marks would be completely gone or partially covered which made the bridge feel like it was alive, constantly transforming.

While we rarely see anyone at the bridge, you can sense a community because, in a way, you are primitively communicating with other people by making marks. For my friends and I, going to the bridge is an adventure. It brings back memories of making secret forts, with friends in the woods, when I was a kid. Knowing that we are going to place that most people don't visit or know about is exciting. Usually we go late at night, to watch the sun rise or add to the conversations on the steel and wood surfaces.