SANCTUARY MONASTERY ARMORY

The work spaces on the first level are used by democratically elected leaders of the community who work together to collaboratively enact change in the vein of design and dispersion. The sanctuary acts as a space of spectacle and reflection, sometimes simultaneously, while the monastery meets housing and health needs.

In presenting the thesis defense, I used coded forms and architectural norms as if the final jury were a “board,” and the gradient of covert versus overt was at its most extreme. If the legislative agendas of Mississippi, the quantitative mapping relating to the larger region, and the documented queer experiences of the city of Jackson are any indication, this subversive pitch strategy is crucial to the viability of this proposal having any chance at being built and helping queer folk in the city and satellite small towns. In order to get such an affront built, albeit as a theoretical suggestion, the subversion must extend to policy. Alternate phasing timelines outline either public or coded details, depending on who is reading.

The thesis defense began with realistic drawings only showing those parts of the project visible to the “everyman.” The twenty seconds of excruciating silence, after the “regular” items were presented and I ceased speaking, were effective according to the jury, who were understandably worried after the pause. By presenting the project in this way, as “fakeout,” the critique extends across multiple levels of architectural design and representation.

In terms of renderings, this one had a signal as well; the man in higher definition is one of those unknowing “passerby,” while the two shrouded figures behind his view are “in the know.” A community member points out the secret entry to a new sanctuary attendee. I used this image as the “last slide” of the first presentation—the pivot point between the narrative—because it is the exact pivot point of entry in the project.

Points of entry became a critical design question, as lines of ‘inclusive v exclusive’ are blurred given the nature of oppression. This shows a gradient diagram of two different passerby and their relation to the building’s only main entry. In dotted blue is the everyman, maybe on their daily walk, who happens to pass by the site. Seeing a church elevation, bell tower, and likely open doors, they come in, see the altar, and leave, having satisfied their curiosity. In pink, however, is the intended audience of the proposal: those that do not fit under the heteronormative umbrella. This is their space in a world not designed for them. In order to control this point of entry with nuance, the plan opts for a “faux altar,” in which only those “in the know” pass through, drawing on decades of queer coding and community building. In other words: If you know you know.

In order to get such a divisive project built, critiques on heteronormative conventions—architectural, representational, sociopolitical— must be formed. The tools, codes, and conventions of the oppressor effectively become the defenses of the oppressed. Though harmful realities of the present landscape must be addressed, the proposal holds hope that the defensive tactics will only be temporary, and the designs being dispersed from the armory may effectively, over time, work to challenge and change the metaphysical landscape.

The project was developed first in section. Though a traditional catholic church plan was used as reference, the design began by playing with the sectional traditions of sanctuary. First, orthogonal sharpness was softened through perforation and curvilinearity in a language of embrace and enlightenment. The predominant source of light, which often filters in horizontally through stained glass, was challenged by creating multiple angled skylights to let light filter in from above. The geometry of the dome is carried down into a stage pit, which runs below a nontraditional descending nave.

Pleasure gardens act as an intermediary between internal/external and exclusive/inclusive. Spaces here can be used for communicating, luxuriating, or loving. This exterior space can also at times be open to allies, so that they may support and enjoy the proposal without infringing on sacred space. The gardens can accommodate multiple agendas at once; a picnic and reunion, for example, call for gradients of privacy. It’s not and/ or, but both/and. The pivot point from monastery to armory turns the corner, both literally and figuratively, from safe haven to defensive center. The juncture of soft and hard; sanctity and self; community and curvilinearity; highlight the embrace of spatial transformation.