Collaboration with Francesca Mercurio for M.Arch Design Studio 2 at John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape and Design

As design students presenting an architecture studio project centered on Indigenous peoples, we naturally felt that a land acknowledgment is a good idea before proceeding, but we were unsure of how to do so without regurgitating something that sounds like the performative stock text. So, we think the best way forward would be to acknowledge that we are in a process of learning and that this land has been – and still is home – to many Indigenous folks, including the Mississaugas of the Credit, Huron-Wendat, the Seneca, and other peoples from across “North America.” Our approach to this studio exercise is one of learning, both in our material explorations and relational approach to research. We view and act on our process as ritual. This was strongly informed by the research and conversation had throughout the course of this exercise, and a prevalent ritual became our mold-making removal. We found so much joy in the unpacking of these foam, tape, and glue parcels, continuously excited to see how our casting trials ended up and often exclaiming loudly and gesturing wildly when the desired effect was achieved.

When thinking through a space to house Rebecca Belmore’s sculptures, Tower, tarpaulin, it was essential to us that the environment we create treats the artwork’s subject (the houseless crisis in Vancouver) with the attention and sensitivity it deserves. We felt this artwork was best suited for a commanding space – a room void of unnecessarily austere architectural elements, and which amplifies the message behind the art. We reflected upon our initial reactions to this piece – discomfort, decay, the reminder of our own precarity, and sought to emulate those feelings through a built form. The journey through this space is processional, taking the visitor through an emotive experience of highs and lows, discomfort and ease, disparity and hope. We reject the term museum or gallery and offer a space oriented towards knowledge-sharing and community. But first, visitors must conront the ‘decay,’ they can’t look past the crisis underscored by Tower, tarpaulin, the main reason for gathering in this space. The artworks are placed in decaying concrete rooms which reference the modern settler city built on concrete condos and extortionate rent prices. Although two pronounced blocks, the concrete is in its deteriorating form and speaks to the precarity of houselessness. The rooms were designed as an individual, insular experience guided by narrow passageways which force the viewer to confront the sculptures one by one. The atmosphere is intentionally uncomfortable and intensified further by the decaying apertures which filter light into the space.

We recognize that such an uncomfortable, challenging space requires a balancing counterpart, and so the procession finishes inside a garden. We designed a space where folks can contemplate and reflect upon their experience inside the decaying rooms, share their sentiments with others and most importantly, exhale. The open courtyard takes the form of a circular plan, referencing medicine wheels and connecting the visitor back to the land. Materially, it takes the form of a structure in its unfinished state, not necessarily offering a solution but suggesting a feeling of hope to move forward from.