The
site analysis that I completed at the Underwood Park is very different then its
location on a map. It’s not just a dot, a tree or the symbolic green color on a
map. It’s different; it presents itself with more information. Information you couldn't have known it if you were at there at a specific time. A lot of information was
hidden from people, lost in the bigger plan, the bigger area, they didn't show
relationships, the neighborhood, the people who are go to park every day, and in
what categories those people fit in.
In
mu site analysis I observed a lot of things, but one thing stuck. It’s not about the park or the weather when I
was there. It’s about the people who were occupying the park at that specific
time. Race was a big thing when I was in the park. They were a lot of biracial
kids in the park. It was either that or a black nanny with blonde headed kids.
An Asian boy and his father were there but they were the only Asians. I don’t really
know what it means; I haven’t been in the neighborhood for too long. 11205 is a
big community, just like anywhere in the city it is full of townhouses, but
somehow these townhouses are very different for the others. The appeal is nicer.
If I had to guess, I would say that the townhouses are habited by rich blonde
people who can afford a nanny to watch their kids; and the biracial kids? I don‘t
know, maybe the world is changing.
My
site analysis is more of a community map, it presents relationships and character.
It introduces the economical and racial factors. The kids who are playing at
Underwood Park can show their kids where they used to spend their afternoons
with the nanny or mommy.
My map recreates Pratt Institute, one place
around is defined. People would know about the community. They don’t have to be
surprised once they find out that they are not in Manhattan but 11205 is part
of New York City. Instead of looking at a green blur on Google Maps or any map,
they know the type of people who frequent it every day, and with that they
should what type of neighborhood this is.
Girl walks out. Holding a brown dogie bag, she is also holding cellphone, and keys, lots of them.
Girl walks in with her friend, they are both wearing black and colored hair. one girl has the PINK on her sweatpants.
Girl comes to sit on one of the benches, she lights a cigarette and dials. she has a large flat phone. she starts talking, she is probably talking to a friend.
Three Asian guys walk out together, they are happy, one is smiling, two are laughing out loud while speaking.
Security guard walks toward the building from security booth, says hello and enters the building through the sliding doors.
The phone-girl finishes her conversation.
Security guard comes back with coffee in his hand.
As we all know the emphasis of titles, allow us to have boundaries, to picture something without reading or seeing it. Thinking about a title can sometimes be a difficult thing, we think about it because we know somehow it is going to affect the piece and the meaning it has. The title given to a piece affects the viewer's life. If you title a piece of artwork: "Stop and Look." Chances are, during the viewer's day, he or she might remember the string of words that reminder him or her to look. I thought about so many different titles: Systematical Walk, Daily Walk, Brooklyn Street, Frightening Street, but none expressed, in debt, what I felt when I walked that street every night. So here it is, my title for my map: A System of Walking: Safety in the Streets of 112-5. 112-5? Area Code in Brooklyn--(I erased a number because you never know who might see this and began to begin to stalk me around.) The streets in Brooklyn are scary enough... Why that title? Between Higgins Hall and Cannouneer Court, there is a 10 minutes walk you have to walk to get to your destination. Often, it is very late when I have to walk home and the walk home is very long and scary to me. There are no sign of danger but the stories that have been told scare you away.
A lot has been going on lately. The absence of my family's presence constantly conflicts with my ability to stay concentrated. This month is a crucial month, if you ask me, I would like for it to end in a blink of an eye. I'm tired, tired of being stressed; tired of calling my family to complain. We can talk about bigger and better things. I need a break. Break from studio, from what is coming next week, and from architecture. I need to spend time with my family. There are the reason I am here at Pratt. Because I've been sitting in my studio chair so much, I need to be reminded my reasoning. Hour by hour, I'm losing sight of my goal...
Bayyinah C. Pierre
Prof. Sacha Frey
Intro Lit/Crit Arch I
Monday, October 22nd 2012.
Daily Walk.
My daily walk
starts from Higgins Hall to Cannouneer Cout, one of the freshman dorms. Why not
have the previous sentence structured the other way around? Quite frankly, this
way makes more sense because it usually very early in the morning or very late
at night when I have to go to sleep at Cannouneer. Us, architecture students
prefer to say very late at night. I believe we say it to keep our mind on
track; to ignore the circumstances we have to put ourselves into or to persuade
ourselves it is acceptable to sleep at that time.
The walk from
Higgins to “Can”-we call Cannouneer “the Can.” It’s easier to pronounce and
visitor don’t have to repeat themselves so many times to a security guard when
they need directions. It’s a scary stroll! Most of the time to my dorm alone,
with no one to protect me or share the derive experience with. The race starts
and ends at a traffic light…
The walk begins
with the words: “See you guys in a couple hours.” Those words define the possibility of
reaching a goal you’ve set at the beginning of your day, your sleep time.
Whether it’s an hour or a couples hours, I always look forward to the time I
lay my head on my soft Ralph Lauren pillow. But, in the back of my head, I know
that this isn’t it, I’ll be back in couple hours or one; I have to. I’m
addicted to the idea of being an architect. It is a fascinating career.
I choose to
represent the location of my studio in red to represent to blood that comes out
of our fingers when we cut ourselves with the X-acto knife which happens often
to the point we don’t even use a Band-Aid, we use tape or zap-a- gap-a toxic
glue that dries really fast forcing us work faster. The black and white paper
was used to attach melancholy to my map. You’ll never see a person with
colorful attire at a funeral. I represented my emotions on daily walk with tags
next to the location I fell them when I walk.
I cut out of chip board the buildings I go through and places them on
the black background. Last but not least I decide to show the location of my
room with the colors dominating it. My room palette is pink, green, and white.
It is very colorful and bright. Having heard stories upper classman told me during
the summer, how my daily life would be, I decided to get a comforter that was
both comfortable and joyful. I wanted a comforter that I would want to cry in;
a comforter that made me smile when I came home at unpredictable hours.
Why did pick
this walk, those locations, and those buildings? Why not, Higgins Hall and Cannouneer
Court are my residences. There are big parts of my life. Without them, my life
would have no meaning, no interest. Actually, my life has meaning without; the
meaning of my life depends greatly on the foundations I have set for it.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Bayyinah C.
Pierre
Prof. Sacha Frey
Intro Lit/Crit
Arch I
October 13th
2012.
Hey,
I bomb it.
The film, Style
Wars by Tony Silver and Henry Chalfant illuminates the impact of writing on
trains on youth in the 1970’s. Back then, Graffiti was a never ending play. It
was the symbol of possession, recognition, and ultimately, youth. It all
started with the name “Taki,” Taki started writing his name on walls in around
public transportations in all 5 boroughs in the 1970’s. His name was everywhere,
and once people realized it was a boy’s name; wherever they would go, they
would write their name. They wrote everywhere there was space on a surface, on
windows, seats, walls, trains, anywhere... It eventually took a deeper meaning.
It was no longer about identities, but personal style. Taki started a movement
without even knowing that people who signed their names just like him would
later be called writers. The trains transport writers’ names from one city to
the next.
“It’s a matter of bombing, knowing
that I could do it. Every time I get in a train, I see my name, I say, yeah…
you know, I was there, I bomb it.” says one of the writers to his mom. I was
there, seems to be a common phrase in the film. Human beings have an immense
desire to be famous, to be recognized for something. In a sense, “bombing”,
beating the system, is the writer’ way of saying: “I’ve done something, I've been somewhere.” Putting their names on the train cars make the cities the cars
travel in, theirs. The space has transformed itself into a place, and is no
longer strange.
Most
of the writers in the film lived in projects, not much belongs to them. Little
to none of the writers has established something for themselves other than graffiti.
Without it they would not have a name attached to their cities, they would be
ordinary which they fear.
In
the projects, everything looks the same. The brick style architecture with
barbed wires and fences hasn’t changed. The stories portrayed behind the walls
are identical, a single mother raising her kids with insufficient funds. With
the pressure of everyday life, writers look for attention elsewhere. Writing on
the trains changes their daily life, their statistics, it argues with the image
people have set for them, the image that they are not going to achieve
something in their life.
The
satisfaction of knowing you have accomplished something so controversial is the
drive that handed down graffiti from generation to generation. The determination
to accomplish something underground, a frightful place, quickly enough that you
do not get caught kept the movement from dying. Also, writers know tomorrow
morning, someone is going to see it. For the next few weeks, their traveling art
is going to be seen in all the five boroughs. To be seen is the intent. “Yeah I vandalism alright, but still in
general I know what I'm doin'. I did somethin' to make yo eyes open up. Right?
So why is you talking ‘bout it for?” says another writer from the film. I did
something to make your eyes open up is ultimately them saying I did something
that you cannot; I made you see something that you couldn’t see. Writers are
making people in the projects realize that they are something. They can do anything
even if their daily life does not allow it, even if it means to put your
freedom on the line. They can create art even if the boundaries of their
pockets do not allow them to go to art school.
“Bombing,”
the act of carrying your name from one city to another is embedded into youth’s
DNA. Writers are rocking the cities with their given name and personal style.
The name is given for recognition, wherever you’re asked what your name is,
people instantly recognize it, they've seen it somewhere, and it’s familiar.
“The
arrow... everybody's got their own arrow, I like that though. Various arrows,
some guys had add on letter arrow that was like connection. Some people had
different arrows just going right through their pieces.” Writers go to the extreme to grab attention,
to be remembered by someone with their pieces.
Everyone tries to be different, and even
though two arrows might look similar, they aren't they’re completely different
because it wasn't done by the same writer. The writer’s name comes from personal style
and character. When the name is given, it is the writer’s responsibility to
make it into something, to do something with it. “Hey, how big can you get this
name up? How high?” explains a writer to a woman who wants to understand the
birth place of the written names.
Graffiti creates an alternative map
of the city, it allows you to recognize a place, to situate yourself, or give
directions. It permits the writers to recognize the city they live in, they can
call it theirs. The alternative map erases the old one, the one that comes with
the image people have set for them, that map that indicates that in the future
they will be in prison for drugs. The alternative map beats the system; it
steps away from the homogeneous gridded environment. The writers want all
boroughs to become their place. “A place is thus an instantaneous configuration
of positions. It implies an indication of stability” writes de Certeaux in his
essay, “Spatial Stories”.
The death of Graffiti on train cars
came along with the inability of youth to gather underground and share their
passion. The disappearance of graffiti on trains embodies the disappearance of
the alternative map. Without the alternative map, youth has no future. We, as people, no longer set foundations, we
are no longer unified, we no longer gather. We don’t see the world around us;
we only see the one in front of us, ours.
The new versus the old is incomparable. Nowadays, graffiti has become a
mode of destruction, what it was said to be before. It is no longer art. The
movement ended when writers decided to make money off of their pieces and stopped
or stopped trying to beat the system. They
gave up on bombing, they gave up on themselves. The gap between the old and the
new has set us back in so many ways, I would have loved to ride a colorful
train, but I wasn't given the chance. I would love to seen a blank silver train
transformed into something meaningful. “That's some never forgive action!” says
a writer.
The
site analysis that I completed at the Underwood Park is very different then its
location on a map. It’s not just a dot, a tree or the symbolic green color on a
map. It’s different; it presents itself with more information. Information you couldn't have known it if you were at there at a specific time. A lot of information was
hidden from people, lost in the bigger plan, the bigger area, they didn't show
relationships, the neighborhood, the people who are go to park every day, and in
what categories those people fit in.
