The Chapel of Longing by Justin Wadge

The Chapel of Longing Justin Wadge

Cornell University / Fall 2014 / Phifer Smith Studio www.villagechapelnyc.com

A special thank you to Tom and Gabe for an inspiring and memorable semester Dedicated to my parents, Geoffrey and Lisa

Preface

Process

Experience

Appendix A: Place

Appendix B: Road

Appendix C: Made Residual

Appendix D: Room

Appendix E: Inserting Room

Appendix F: Chapel

Preface This theoretical project is the product of an undergraduate studio at the Cornell University Architecture Department in New York City. It was taught by visiting professors Thomas Phifer and Gabriel Smith. The assignment was to design a chapel in the West Village of Manhattan. The chapel is non-denominational; it is a place for meditation inspired by the everyday. It is about taking the typical commuter, occupant, visitor out of his or her mind and into the place. It is a search for the profound rooted in the mundane. The project began with photography and poetry about the site inspired by John Hejduk. This was distilled to a particular feeling which was expressed first through a surface, then a room, then a Chapel.

Preface

“In Memoriam, CXXIII” by Alfred Lord Tennyson There rolls the deep where grew the tree. O earth, what changes hast thou seen! There where the long street roars hath been The stillness of the central sea. The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands; They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go. But in my spirit will I dwell, And dream my dream, and hold it true; For tho’ my lips may breathe adieu, I cannot think the thine farewell.

Preface

Process Discovery of Place and Making into Space

That which Has Aged Weather wrinkles its surface, interpretations deepen its soul. The fresh, the pure, the young, speak hastily of ambition of the future. The refined, the aged, the weak, hold their silence and listen. The aged place is a quiet place, content in the presence. The subject is not what is said, but what is. Light traces the gentle profile that crumbles; Light speckles the subtle features. Nature warms the face; Nature finds the humble soul. The Vestige knows light and nature. The Vestige knows the air and the thoughts that fill it. These are the means that it was nurtured by time.

That which Once Was The place has been and will be, but what occupies it is fleeting. The Sense of Place transcends content and time, but it can only be defined through a content and a time. Looking at the space left behind is to look into an opening to the Soul of Place. In the now, Shadow is a hole. Shadow is a present absence of light, Shadow is a trace of one subject at one time. In the now, Sky is a hole. Sky has no content, all is fleeting and undefined. Sky has its own time. The absence that reveals place is the Residual. To look into the Residual is to look inside yourself.

I long for That which Once Was.

Process

The Vestige That which exists outside of its time. It carries a sense of discontinuity with the now of the place, though it does not mind. It knows that there is more than the now to the presence. It offers a connection back to the particular time when it resonated with the place. The Vestige inspires an awareness of a time beyond the present, and consequently a deeper sense of place.

The Residual A trace left by The Vestige. It is the imprint on a place, left by the former inhabitant. It is a memory. The residual is more evocative than the Vestige for its ability to leave a more imaginative reflection. The Residual implies that which was.The broken, scratched, scathed, smoothed. All the qualities of time that affect the place become proponents of the Residual.

Process

Old Gibellina

Longing The Vestige and The Residual evoke a strong sense of Longing in the inhabitant. The Vestige and The Residual are trying to bring the Then into the Now. Longing is the corresponding impression left on the body that encounters the place. It evokes a desire to experience all the time of the place.

Edinburgh Castle

The Collection of Time When I come to this site, and feel a sense of Longing, it is endearing and very powerful. I want to experience all the time of this place. I am not in the present moment, but a collection of moments. I can imagine the freshness that once was, and the forces that acted on the place and made it what is now. In a sense, the place traces, through the Residuals, what has happened over time. My ambition is to make a place that builds on this sense of memory, that reinforces the sense of Longing. It is rooted in the ability of an individual to feel a collection of time, to feel the essence of a place that transcends a singular time.

Appendix A: Place

Process

Hiroshi Sugimoto

The surface of memory is transformative. Its subtleties effortlessly engage in soft or sharp lighting. The light is fenestrated in a way that makes time visible.

Appendix B: Road

Process

Peter Zumthor

As I endeavor to make something that reflects this collection of time, I am interested in things that are not so fresh, not so clean, not so pure. I am seeking accumulations and operations by time that can be further developed. I do not want to make something new, but contribute to the rituals and rhythms of the site over time. I must produce something that is already the Residual.The process begins with a Vestige, the crafting of a very specific implication from it, and the removal of it. The space left by the Vestige opens up space for the projections of what was. A way to bring myself into it. By removing the subject, I project my own memory.

Appendix C: Made Residual

Process

James Turrell

As I endeavor to produce an Illumination of Longing, I seek the Horizontal, the Distant, and the Vague. The Horizontal is calm; it implies layers of light accumulated over time. The Distant is other; it implies a disconnection from the inhabitant. I long for the boundaries of a space, to understand the space, but the Distant keeps them at bay.The Vague is the most important. It is resonates with the emotive power of the Residual. The Vague light casts doubt on certainty, it allows for the projection of memory.

Process

The soft Light of Longing

The articulated light on the Texture of Longing

Process

The Ear of Dionysius

I imagine a room of Longing. It incorporates the qualities of a Residual to make a space that reflects the passage of time, the absence of all that has been. I imagine the light as vague and soft, gently opening the space from a source that is beyond. I imagine the texture as articulated, soft and hard. It is a room that makes me Long for all that has made it over time. It is a space, most of all, onto which I project myself.

Appendix D: Room

Process

The Room of Longing is endless and worn. It extends beyond what is known.

The Room of Longing is Distant, Horizontal, and Vague. It incorporates the soft Light and articulated Texture.

Process

The Plan of the Room is placed on the site.

The Book of Tea (1916) by Kakuzo Okakura is a foundational doctrine of Teaism, and the first of its find written by an english speaker. The section included below by Okakura became instrumental in my understanding of the project.

He claimed that only in the vacuum lay the truly essential. The reality of a room, for instance, was to be found in the vacant space enclosed by the roof and walls, not in the roof and walls themselves. The usefulness of the water pitcher dwelt in the emptiness where water might be put, not in the pitcher or the material of which it was made.Vacuum is all potent because all containing. In Vacuum alone motion becomes possible... In Art the importance of the same principles is illustrated by the value of suggestion. In leaving something unsaid the beholder is given a chance to complete the idea and thus a great masterpiece irresistibly rivets your attention until you seem to become actually a part of it. A vacuum is there for you to enter and fill up to the measure of your aesthetic emotion.

Appendix E: Inserting the Room

Process

First 3 years

5 years

10 years

20 years

Process

I imagine a Chapel of Longing. It takes all of these qualities and projects them unto a site. It has a careful sequence of finding the interior, confronting that which has aged, and revealing the traces of time. A simple space becomes a backdrop for the rhythms of place. It stretches an open hand to the life of nature, and embraces the power of weathering. It is a backdrop upon which we experience the beauty of the Mundane in the world; It is a filter that brings forth the Soul of the Place. It is absence unto which we project ourselves.

Appendix F: Chapel

Process

Experience A Sequence of Becoming with the Place

The Chapel of Longing is never completed. It is a backdrop for the changing conditions of time: it is weathered by nature and illuminated by the atmospheres of different seasons. The Chapel is first experienced in the spring as a light formwork structure of rough-cut oak lumber. The transformative texture, both on the surface of the boards and their impression on the concrete, reveals the delicate natural light. The continuous wall within is cast in layers of reclaimed aggregate concrete over the course of three years. The boards are taken off over the course of one year. The clean form will decay; the crisp concrete will crumble. Reaching the back corner, there is a moment of seeing the inner space of the chapel with the outside world at the periphery. The imprint of the boards is visible on the walls. The interior garden, planted before the form work was constructed, develops a presence after years of hiding behind the wall. Nature is an honest reflection of the accumulation of time.

Experience

As one enters the central space, it opens into a bowl, rigid and bare. In its youth, there was a harsh daylight cast upon its curving walls. In its age, the weathered surfaces are speckled with light filtered through the leaves. There is a single bench in the center, the only content in this container framed by trees and sky.The bench is constructed of the formwork that once lined the interior space; it rots over time. The trees grow towards the end of the summer, and envelope the space with fall foliage. Once this abstract space of meditation is experienced, one sits in the bench and is reoriented back towards where they came. It is no longer about abstraction, but rather a careful framing of the existing Vestiges of the site. It is about the weathered beauty of the Mundane. Finally, the return to the street shows an aged surface, not so fresh, not so pure. The trees have grown tall but lost their color and life. It is a stage for the forces of nature and embraces the effects of time. It collects decades of transformations and brings them to the present human experience.

Experience

Appendices

Appendix A: Place What was there? How is it still there?

It is a quiet place. A fabric laced with memory. The site itself is empty, though the former inhabitants have left their traces. Circular capsules hide flush to the ground in a regular pattern, implying a perfect column line. The seals of front doors remain, a curious residue as everything else was uprooted. The ground plane undulates; its skin is a patched pavement. Thin weeds break through. There is one eight inch deep excavation; a pit of dirt. The walls are a beautiful texture of brick and concrete unified by graffiti. A vertical rift in the brick wall provides a view into the depth of the otherwise preserved surface. A bordering wooden fence reveals a greater weathering by time. Crooked, cracked, sad. Reinforcements persist and resist, though they cannot hide the visual state. So much age cannot be hidden. The east wall belongs to a bike store. The two-bay garage is littered with bicycles from the last generation. The store itself is an antique. With such a modest composition, it is hard to ignore the heavy palazzo to its right. This solid block is a complete representation, rustification. Arched windows in order and ornamented doric columns. The carvings indicate it was a police station; now it is an apartment building. A fine and noble edifice. It is a residue of the past no longer relevant to its identity in such a calm place.

I return to the wooden wall. Frail as it is, it still functions to hide the space behind. A house, of the scale I would expect in Connecticut, with grand gates and columns with ivy. Flowers seep through the wrought bars. Above, billowing trees overload the bars. This growth beyond the bounds of the property, to which the roots are residents, is a testament to the age of this vestige. Though to be fair, it has no bounds. A memory of when the space was open. How much longer will this condition continue to grow unfettered? One broad stretched tree enjoys the extent of its courtyard. Its density of leaves and branches beautifully filters the bright afternoon light.The light scatters across the sidewalk in the most respectful way; it is divine. The gentle cover reminds me of my yard in Lyme. As I follow the leaves north, I watch them engulf a four story residence. Here nature latches onto edifice, climbing towards the light. Though edifice is not defeated, but blanketed comfortably. Branches wrap around the cornice, holding for their survival. It is a peaceful reciprocity, grown friendly with age.

Appendix A: Place 52

Rhythms of place have persisted through time; same bicycles, same signs, same routines

The water tower is a relic. A construction out of use has become a sculpture to the past.

The palazzo is stubborn, resistant to change. Police Station to Residence, the face is untouched.

The solid grandeur has translated through time. Whether reflecting wealth or power, it stands proud.

Appendix A: Place 54

The fortified fence persists through the ware of time. The boundary must be maintained.

The accumulation of vestiges builds character.

The wall is colored with memories.

The wall melts like a glacier.

Appendix A: Place 56

Crumbling corners and chipping blue are brought together by the equal battering of time.

Patterns invoke memories. They are the residue of a past order.

Nature and building dance between foreground and background.

Trees, vines, bushes, climb for the light. The building calmly supports.

Appendix A: Place 58

The place is layered with time. The age here is a genuine process.

A stream of light washes down a narrow, hidden ally.

Appendix A: Place 60

Appendix B: Road The gentle stones turn their rounded edges towards the light.

Light hits the facade. It is an afternoon light slipping through the adjacent street. A memory hardly relevant yet persistent enough to survive. The uneven cobblestones under my feet make it more comfortable to keep moving than to stand still. A central line of three stones wide undulates up and down, left and right with the swelling ground plane. It seems quiet and empty, but it is not. It is just occupied by that which is fleeting.

The road sums up the mystical experience of the village. Within it, lies an understated presence. If the visitor has the pleasure of finding this secret, it reveals itself as quite humble. A vestige of the past, this street certaintly once brought its inhabitant straight to the water. It was once a journey from the finite to the infinite. Today, it is a Surface of Longing.

Appendix B: Road 64

The facade is quilted with wooden panels. A developed character.

The substrate undulates as shaped by the hands of time.

The sidewalk edge bites down hard and crumbles the cobble edge.

The impartial blanket of light that is at once warm and cool. The projection of a shadow is the residual of the now.

Appendix B: Road 66

The road speaks of many pasts. It has been injured and healed. It has grown hard yet fragile.

Appendix B: Road 68

The surface carefully takes color by the time. The changing feeling reflects the changing hour.

Appendix B: Road 70

Appendix C: Made Residual Making That which Once Was

A found Vestige, the remnants of a palette left out to age (previous page: intact on site).

A found Residual, the mortar of a brick wall

Appendix C: Made Residual 74

A created Residual, concrete cast of the found Vestige

Appendix C: Made Residual 76

Appendix D: Room Experimentations in Lighting and Texture of a Space

The Texture and Light of Longing in a Deep Space

Curved walls invite a Gentle Light

Appendix D: Room 80

Like the Ear of Dionysius, the space is endless. I Long for its terminus.

The Texture captures the Transformative Light.

Appendix D: Room 82

The Room of Longing transforms with the changing light of the day. The undefined aperture implies a deeper space.

The Horizontally Textured Walls pull the Gentle light through the Space.

Appendix D: Room 84

Appendix E: Inserting the Room The Process of Making the Space of Longing Contextual

The intersection of Charles and Washington Streets

Appendix E: Inserting the Room 88

Various frames are explored to create the visual effect of the Room. 89

The Room is bluntly placed. The Vestige of the Place is the two walls at the rear of the site. By entering along them, the inhabitant feels the sense of time. These clues of memory lead to a void, a container of space. Appendix E: Inserting the Room 90

The room is simply a wall, that unravels.

The room is simply a wall, that encloses.

Appendix E: Inserting the Room 92

Appendix F: Chapel A Place of Longing

Appendix F: Chapel 94

The negative space between the proposed walls and the existing site creates an entry sequence. The interior takes the inhabitant out of the world. 95

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Trees contained entirely within become essential to the ideas of Longing and the Vestige/ Residual. It is a hidden garden; the growth over the walls shows the passage of time. Appendix F: Chapel 96

The Accumulation of Time The project is never begun and never completed, rather it is always becoming one with the site. Like a Vestige, It is comfortable with the process of aging. The existing textures of the ground plane and rear walls have been weathered by time for many years already (page 54). The continuous wall, concrete cast with wood formwork, reflects the grain of the wood that shaped it. The trees are planted at its birth. They honestly reflect the accumulation of time. The project begins as an open container, rigid and bare. There is no knowledge of what lies within the enclosure. Over time, the trees grow full and encompass the space. In its youth, the fresh cast walls receive a crisp projection of daylight along their curves. In its age, the weather walls are speckled with the light that filters through the trees. All the conditions developed over time are a genuine reflection of place; the project embraces all that happens to it.

Appendix F: Chapel 98

The formwork is a made of rough cut 2 x 6 Oak Boards.The grains retain the transformative texture of a former natural state. The support structure is made of delicate members. It is fragile compared to the mass setting within.

The concrete mixture includes reclaimed aggregate and dirt from the ground of the garden it will contain. The material is not so fresh, no so pure. It crumbles gently as it is massaged by the hands of time. The concrete mixture is cast slowly leaving horizontal bands that reveal the process.

Appendix F: Chapel 100

101

It is a backdrop upon which we experience the beauty of the Mundane in the world; It is a filter that brings forth the Soul of the Place.

It is the stage for the passage of Time; It is the container of Time.

It is the clarity that we need to see the space from which content arises; It is absence unto which we project ourselves.

Appendix F: Chapel 102

It points to the spiritual all around us.

Cornell University / Fall 2014 / Phifer Smith Studio www.villagechapelnyc.com