Carnegie Free Public Libraries

Andrew Carnegie (1835–1919) was a Scottish-American industrialist who devoted much of the later part of his life as a philanthropist, primarily through grants for the construction of over 2500 libraries in the United States and around the world. Carnegie believed in giving to the “industrious and ambitious; not those who need everything done for them, but those who, being most anxious and able to help themselves, deserve and will be benefited by help from others.” The first of the Carnegie libraries in the U.S. was built in 1889 in Braddock, Pennsylvania, home to one of Carnegie’s steel mills.

This Carnegie Free Public Library in Ballard was built in 1904 through a $15,000 grant provided by the Carnegie Library Program. Designed by Henderson Ryan, the Classic Revival structure featured radiating stacks, an auditorium, a men’s smoking room, and a women’s conversation room. The Ballard Chain Gang (!) did the landscaping under police supervision. When the city of Seattle annexed Ballard in 1907, the library became the first major branch of The Seattle Public Library.

The library was officially closed in June 1963 when a new, larger public library was built in the area. Since its closure, the library building has been used for a variety of private commercial enterprises. Seattle architect Larry E. Johnson nominated the library for recognition in 1976, and in 1979 it was listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Contour Drawing

In 1995, my wife and I left the kids behind to travel to Italy, working our way from Varenna on Lake Como to Florence, Cinque Terra, Siena, San Gimignano and Assissi. We had intended to also spend some time in Rome but we found Assissi to be such a spiritually relaxing place that we decided to spend our last few days in Italy at this country house just outside the city walls.

Continuing to employ the contour drawing style I had used in Japan, I made generous use of white space to imply the foreground and draw attention to the main house beyond. Contour drawing requires working from part to part and seeing how shapes and details fit into a larger pattern. Because I was drawing with a fountain pen, I used dots to help me visualize the placement of the image on the page and to work out the roof forms before I started drawing the contours.

It is interesting that later, in teaching drawing, I advocate a more structural approach based on analysing geometric forms and their spatial relationships. As the years go by, I find myself using a combination of the two approaches, as seen in these studies of the Pantheon done a few years later.

Studies of a Japanese Folk House

Another example of drawing from the imagination while on location. In this case, I was intrigued by the tectonic qualities of this Gassho-zukuri style house in the Hida Folk Village (Kida-no-Sato) just outside of Takayama. While walking through the interior spaces and visualizing a section cut through the structure, I drew the timber framing for the floors and the steep thatched roof and noted the way members were tied and braced. In this way, I was able to better understand and remember how material, structure, and construction came together to shape the architectural qualities of the spaces.

On the same page you can also see studies of the scale of the space created by the overhanging thatched roof along the eaves as well as sketches of types of traditional Japanese storehouses that I had observed.

These are all examples of how drawing from observation (on location) can serve as a springboard for drawing from the imagination (in design).

Drawing Conceptual Views

On a visit to the New Territories, we stopped at this walled Tang village, featuring a hierarchical grid layout, as well as examples of traditional ancestral halls, which have similar grid layouts organized by masonry and timber structural systems—seemingly simple yet capable of such spatial richness.

When drawing from observation, we can capture not only what the eye perceives but also what the mind conceives. We can use the drawing process to think about, visualize, and explore in imagined and imaginary ways the conceptual basis for the environments we see and experience. In this case, simple plan diagrams of the structural and spatial layout along with side views of the gable-roofed portions help us first to understand, then remember, and finallly convey the three-dimensional attributes of the ancestral halls.

My Ancestral Village

In 1993, accompanied by Dr. Ho Puay Peng of the Chinese University of Hong Kong, I took a ferry to Zhongsan Harbor and then a taxi to Nam Bin, my ancestral village near Sun Yat-Sen’s home village of Cuiheng in Guangzhou prefecture. There I met Ching Yoon In—our grandfathers were brothers who both emigrated to Hawaii. Being the older of the two, his grandfather had to return to China to take care of our common great grandfather while mine remained in Hawaii. Yoon is about the same age as me and when he told me this story, I immediately thought that if our grandfathers’ birth order were reversed, I could have been standing in his shoes and he in mine. To help me make sense of how Yoon and I were related, I drew this diagram. You can also see other small sketches of our ancestral gravesite, Yoon’s sister’s house, and a tower-house, a typical defensive structure built with overseas money in the 1920s.

Sketches from China

After Japan, the next travel opportunity I had was at the invitation of Tunney Lee, chair of the newly founded School of Architecture at the Chinese University of Hong Kong. Before arriving in Hong Kong in 1993, however, I made brief stops in Beijing and Nanjing. In the journal I kept for these visits, I wrote more of my day-to-day experiences, something I regretfully did not do in Japan. You can see a portion of my writing to the left of these small sketches I did as we flew into Beijing and drove into the city.

While in Beijing, one has to, of course, visit the Great Wall, the Ming Tombs, the Forbidden City, and the Temple of Heaven, all monuments of impressive scope and scale.

While thirteen of the Ming Tombs are near Beijing, one is outside Nanjing—Mingxiaoling Tomb (tomb of the founder of the Ming Dynasty). I used this small, pictorial diagram to remember the configuration of the path and the Spirit Way (Shen Dao) leading to the tomb.

In contrast to this small diagram, the expansive view often tempts us. In Hong Kong, this would be the Hong Kong Central skyline as seen from Kowloon.

Sensoji Temple

Another drawing from my Japan sketchbook, this time of the Hozomon, a two-story gate leading to the courtyard of Sensoji Temple in the Asakusa district of Tokyo. Next to it I’ve placed a photo of Ando Hiroshige’s woodblock print, Kinryusan Temple at Asakusa, from his One Hundred Famous Views of Edo (1856). Different media but similar points of view, executed a hundred and thirty-six years apart. Hiroshige’s print is particularly interesting for his use of one-point perspective.

My First Journal

While I encourage design students to develop the habit of maintaining a visual journal while they are in school, the first real journal I kept was while I was a visiting faculty at the Tokyo Institute of Technology in 1992. During the month-long stay, I set myself the goal of doing a sketch a day. The result of this effort was the publication of Sketches from Japan in 2000 by John Wiley & Sons.

Since the book is now out-of-print, I am posting the first page in the sketchbook, for which I wrote the following caption:

“This is one of the main streets of O-okayama, a few blocks from the International House where visiting faculty stay while at the Tokyo Institute of Technology. Drawing this established the process for the remaining drawings in this sketchbook, starting with a significant contour or shape, sized and positioned relative to the dimensions of the page, and then filling in this frame with the contours of the smaller shapes and details. This deliberate, methodical way of working enabled me to pay attention to the pattern of the whole as well as the multitude of details I saw and experienced.”

University of Central Florida

Never been to Florida until last week, when I had the opportunity to teach a group of architecture students from the University of Central Florida in Orlando at the invitation of Professor Thomas McPeek. Thoroughly enjoyed the sunny weather and sketching downtown Orlando, Winter Park, and Rollins College with the students, but most of all, I appreciated their openness and optimism—both admirable traits for those hoping to shape Florida’s future.

 

The Old Rainier Brewery

It’s now been twelve years since they stopped making beer at 3100 Airport Way South, the former home of Rainier Beer.

The brewing of beer in Seattle dates back to 1884, when Edward Sweeney established the Claussen-Sweeney Brewing Company in the Georgetown neighborhood of Seattle. After a series of mergers, Seattle Brewing and Malting Company emerged in 1893 and launched the Rainier brand of lager beer. The company ceased operations during the prohibition years and temporarily moved to San Francisco. After prohibition was repealed in 1933, however, the brewery re-emerged as the Rainier Brewing Company and relocated to this complex alongside the I-5 corridor south of downtown Seattle.

The iconic red neon R that used to stand atop the brewery is now in Seattle’s Museum of History and Industry, replaced by the green T when Tully’s was using the plant to roast coffee. The plant is now home to Tully’s headquarters, Bartholomew Winery, Red Soul Motorcycle Fabrications, a recording studio, and a number of artist lofts.