The Incomplete Manifesto

photo: Massive Change, MCA

Came across this "design mimics life" manifesto by the Bruce Mau Design group, one of the main organizers behind the Massive Change exhibition (also a worthy read/look). It is short, concise and full of relevant inquiries into how and why we make:

http://www.brucemaudesign.com/incomplete_manifesto.html

Architectural Response to PTSD

How do we, as individuals and communities, rebuild after traumatic events? Is it possible to design for healing to take place? What role does narrative play in architectural structures meant to house people who have experienced Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?

 

These are just a few of the questions addressed in a 2002 pamphlet entitled "Move: Sites of Trauma" by architect Johanna Salem Dickson. In this small booklet (which I just returned to the RISD library) Dickson and other architecture master students propose designs for the West Philadelphia neighborhood that was destroyed by bombing and fire on May 13, 1985. 

West Philadelphia, May 13, 1985    

11 people dead   

61 homes destroyed  

250 people left homeless

A city scarred

This story of willful destruction by a city government of its own neighborhood is one that is woefully undertold. On May 13, 1985, a bomb was dropped on a rowhouse in west Philadelphia that was the home of a radical organization called MOVE. The bomb, a powerful C-4 explosive illegally obtained by the Philadelphia Police Department from the FBI, ignited a can of gasoline on the roof which continued to burn freely for the next four hours, killing 11 MOVE members, destroying 61 homes and leaving 250 neighbors homeless. 

As horrific as these events were, it was the city's mishandling of the aftermath that has provoked many to view this moment in U.S. history as parallel to our country's handling of Vietnam War veterans.  By destroying the burnt ruins of the neighborhood and immediately replacing the rowhouses with makeshift replacements, Dickson argues that the people in the Cobb Creek neighborhood were never properly allowed to remember and thus heal from this traumatic event. In the pamphlet, she identifies five architectural elements which led to her designation of the Osage Street neighborhood as a "site of trauma": transformation, movement, modification, relation and memory. 

To varying degrees of success, the design proposals at the end of the pamphlet attempt to address these various elements.  What is interesting though is how each proposal includes components that allow for peoples' individual and collective narratives of what happened in the build up and aftermath of May 13th to find breathing space within the neighborhood's redesign. These narratives both acknowledge aspects of the MOVE Group's "back to nature" ideology, while also rebuilding sites for people to convene and retell these narratives in a communal space.  Additionally these proposals offer a fascinating intersection between the disciplines of architecture, psychology, history, and city planning. 

Filmmaker Khalo Matabane @ Brown, Tuesday November 12th

Brown University Africana Studies
and Modern Culture & Media Present:

South African Filmmaker
Khalo Matabane
Fitt Artist Resident

Screening of "When We Were Black" Episodes 1 & 2
Wednesday, November 12th at 12:00 p.m. with lunch (episode 1)
Wednesday, Novemner 12th at 6:00 p.m. (episode 2)
Conversation with the artist at 7:00 p.m.
Joukowsky Forum in The Watson Institute
111 Thayer Street

Part of the FOCUS ON AFRICA series.

Made possible by The Office Of The President, Brown University Creative Arts Council Lawton Wehle Fitt Endowment, Rites & Reason Theatre, and The Watson Institute For International Relations.

In these hard times...

Today I was reading an essay from the Swedish artist, Jorgen Svensson, in the collection, What We Want is Free: Generosity and Exchange in Recent Art, edited by Ted Purves.


Note: You can find this book at the RISD library - it's a great read!

In his essay, Jorgen lays out his reasons for how he came to make "social sculpture" as a young artist emerging from a painting background. One of his motivating factors was the economic downturn in the early 90s, which led to the disappearance of many contemporary art galleries. In his own words, "A group of yong artists realized that in order to work as artists and have their work be part of public discussions, they would need to find their own solutions and create new arenas for their art."

The context in which Svensson relocated his practice outside of the gallery framework echoes the shifting realities of the current economic crisis, though we have yet to see the full extent of the fallout. I am very interested in building discussions around what RISD, as an institution and community, can do to encourage students in imagining alternative ways of being creative producers and thinkers. And more than imagining, actually experimenting with these alternatives while within this environment which so intensely supports creative exploration. These kinds of conversations are being seeded in classes such as Design for Social Entrepeneurship - indeed students at RISD today are, on the whole, probably more socially conscious than artists of Svensson's age who were saturated in the hyper art star, market-oriented frame of reference.

At the same time, I feel that our office also can play a leadership role in promoting resources and opportunities for students to recontextualize their artmaking for today's realities. This fall we will convene a focus group of RISD community members to discuss some of the ways that our work can tie into the larger Creative Providence cultural plan being put together by the City of Providence. Leveraging new RISD/Providence project-based collaborations could be one way to combine our resources in smart ways and offer new opportunties for community engagement in action.