Parc de la Villette

plan view

Hello again. Yes, this is another post about Paris, but it should be the last. Until I look at photos and think of another. Barcelona is to come, so hang in there for a new place, next post.

There were soooo many places in Paris to See. We only had a few days and the point of being there was the Tour de France, so I had to pick and choose. Neither of us like tourist stuff so much, particularly because we don't like to wait in lines. So I chose to See some places that I had read about or studied pertaining to landscape architecture.

Parc de la Villette seems to be either loved or hated, most often the latter. So off we went, on a hot, sunny day to See what it was all about. We spent quite a while there, but at 55 hectares (approx 136 acres), it is difficult not to. A large portion of that space is green, according to Wikipedia, but to me, it seemed very centralized around hardscaping. It was built in the 1980's, designed by Bernard Tschumi in a deconstructionist style. There are large, red, metal architectural follies and a series of gardens. Along the borders of the Parc are Cite des Sciences et de l'Industrie and Argonaute and La Geode . There is a music museum, visitor center, nightclub, open air theater and bookstore. The Canal de l'Ourcq runs through it. How's that for history in a few sentences? If you want more, Google it.

There were things I loved, things I didn't and things I just didn't get. There was so much going on here that I am struggling at how to present it all. Being that it is deconstructionist, that is odd. I saw it more as too-many-things-going-on-in-one-place at times. So here is a description of what I Saw: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

The Good

Circulation was good. The Parc has a main path that meanders along, passing nearby, if not through, the major highlights. So it was pretty easy to see everything in one long, rambling walk. This edited out a lot of the decision making factors, where to go next, which way to turn, that usually are present in parks.

The bicycle sculpture was damn impressive. Basically, it is in parts, scattered over a vast green lawn, as though it had fallen on its side and was buried over time, leaving only key parts visible. The guy in the Speedo is not my husband! Just some guy with bad fashion sense looking for some sun that day. You have no idea how hard it was and how many photos I took to get one without him. I used a berm to hide him, but this photo is still the best.

The dune garden was very cool. Sort of like a playground, sort of not. It is a series of rolling hill-type features covered in different materials. There are cool airplane-shaped wind gadgets above and pillowy things to jump on. Lots of fun was had by children running around this area that day.

Very funky seating. But a little dated now. But still functional and very inviting, very necessary.

Large expanses of lawn being enjoyed by actual people for multiple uses. No one is getting upset that they are playing soccer, picnicking, sunbathing in the same space. Tons of people were there that day, making it work.

The Bad (too harsh) or Not As Good or Was Great Once

The dragon garden was amazing in its day. But its day had passed and there it is sad, abandoned, alone in its geriatric state. Just looking for someone to care about it. I did, but I couldn't help it. If only I could have.

What is it? A very funky, HUGE dragon sculpture thingy made out of wood and paint, with a metal slide in the middle. I am sure it was very well loved in the 80's when it was built. Perfect for kids, except the materials. I bet the ideal, all weather materials that it was meant to be made of were value-engineered out. Or it was designed by an architect, not a landscape architect or play designer. Sorry architects.

Because of its decrepit state, paint chipping, probably broken and deemed unsafe, it was closed off with a metal fence like it had been put out to pasture and forgotten about. Sad, so very, very sad. Dragon, I love you, or at least what you were once. It isn't your fault they let you go.

Very odd ground planes. Difficult to understand visually. Some of these may have worked better by not being there. And what about the differently-abled?


The Ugly

Too much hardscape, plain and simple. Had to cost a fortune. I understand that it is supposed to support its particular space, but enough is enough. There were patterns against other patterns, varying heights, tripping hazards everywhere. No continuity at all and not in good repair.

Seems as though some areas, like the dragon, had been forgotten. I will spare you the photos. You can use your imagination. There were water and mold stains in the bamboo gardens. Runnels were filled with dirt and leaves, some seemed clogged. Planter boxes in the red follies were empty or garbage-strewn. Some that had plants had badly engineered irrigation that was failing to do the job. Plants looked sun baked or wind scarred.

And why, did someone plant this tree here? Hmm.

I don't want to end this on a Ugly note. Overall, I liked what I Saw. Very cool place. Very well used. Someone just needs to put some love back into it.

La Defense

When I was in landscape architecture school, I did a precedent study on La Grande Arche de la Defense in Paris, France. The assignment was to do a precedent study on memorials in preparation for a redesign (at least a student version of redesign, not a real world project) of the Holocaust Memorial in Philadelphia. I understand why memorials happen, but I don't love them. I think they are overly common in today's world, which causes the whole idea of the memorial to be lost. Not to sound unsympathetic, they have their place, but I think we need to think before we add another to the world. Certain situations, like Maya Lin's Vietnam Veteran's Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial, they make sense. Anyway, I chose a non-traditional memorial to study. And I had been there before. Bonus!

When I was an exchange student in Denmark during high school, I took a trip around Europe for a month. One stop, of course, was Paris. But it was towards the end of my 363 days abroad and I was low on funds. So I scoffed at the ticket price to go up the elevator in La Grande Arche and instead admired it from below and afar.

But La Defense is more than just the Grande Arche. It is the high-rise office district located several kilometers west of center city Paris. It is home to the tallest buildings in Paris and is a striking part of the skyline. The region was once home to warehouses and factories and was considered the least attractive part of Paris. Redevelopment of this area began in the first half of the 20^th century in order to create a business district for the city. This resulted in the extension of the Axe Historique and Voie Triumphale and provided a place for expansion of urban public space.

The district is named for a monument, La Defense de Paris, which is a memorial to the soldiers who fought in the Franco-Prussian War in 1870-71 (www.wikipedia.com). This older monument has since been relocated to another site near its original location (www.paris-pass.com). La Defense has been very controversial. The architectural style of this area is in stark contrast to that of the rest of Paris. La Defense is modern, consisting of tall buildings constructed of concrete, glass and metal. This is the only region in the Paris vicinity to have such tall buildings. Critics have described La Defense as “a forest of buildings”. The buildings are all lined up in 2 rows, one on either side of the street (www.wikipedia.com).

So as a grown-up, I went back, in July, 2009, and spent a rain-filled afternoon wandering around La Defense with my husband. In fact, I think it was the first thing we did after arriving and checking in to the hotel. My husband is a trooper for tolerating and even showing enthusiasm for my crazy landscape architecture-related antics. I took hundreds of photos in just a few hours, so picking which to post was difficult. Here are just a few.

a Miro sculpture and a very funky paving pattern

La Defense's take on vertical growth

a tiny vineyard in La Defense

my photo from the museum, www.grandearche.com

Here are the specs and more history in a nut shell, please skip if you feel the need. If you want more on the history, contact me and I would be happy to share.

Construction of La Grande Arche de La Defense began in 1982 and was completed in 1989. Inauguration took place in July, 1989. La Grande Arche, also know as Le Grande Arche de la Fraternite and La Toit de la Grande Arche, is situated on axis with many of Paris’ famous skyline sights, 4 km west of center city in La Defense district (www.wikipedia.com). La Grande Arche was designed by Danish architect Johan Otto Von Spreckelsen of Denmark. Spreckelsen died during construction and the monument was completed by French architect Paul Andreu (www.denmark.dk).

• 100 square meter footprint
• 110 meters high
• 108 meter width
• 112 meter depth
• Prestressed concrete frame
• White/gray marble cladding with glass windows on exterior and interior facing walls
• Fabric canopy under archExterior tube elevators

(www.greatbuildings.com)

My Love of Stone

I love stone, boulders and rock in a landscape. If you read my recent post about fences, you will see that others do not share my enthusiasm for rock piles. When I was able to source the reclaimed stone locally and discovered that they were all part of a local barn and were mined locally, I felt like I hit the reclaimed materials jackpot. I liked my pile of stone even when it was just a pile. Now it is a pile in transition. Each piece is slowly making its way to the front yard. Little by little, piece by piece it will make a massive difference in curb appeal and is already making me want to spend time in the front instead of the back. It is a work in progress.

Occasionally, I contribute to Landscape Architecture magazine's Riprap section. I just read a piece about this guy in the July 2010 Riprap. Check out the 16 minute film and see how other people feel about stone. All the credits and info are right there.

http://vimeo.com/7653628

Jon is no Andy Goldsworthy, for those of you familiar with Rivers and Tides. He talks way too much to be compared to Andy. But, his Stone River is pretty inspirational and impressive.

With that, I will head back out front. More weed pulling and soil turning before I can add more stone.

They Were Part of the Mountain Landscape

I went to Interlaken to look for my family. My ancestors that is, two of my father's grandparents were from Switzerland. My grandmother's parents. Yes, I know they are long deceased and physically looking for them will not help. But the search persists, regardless.

Just the fact that I took the car was Field Trip material enough. I don't drive here. Scott does. I bike and take public transportation, because the Swiss make it way too easy not to. At least around town anyway. I grabbed my camera, the GPS, forgot my scarf and headed out.

I have spent some time looking for info on my great grandparents online since I have been here. Some lovely family member of mine has done much of the work, so it was pretty easy to find the simple details, like who, when and how. The where part is the tricky part. The records from US Immigration are very clear. But the Swiss heritage part is not. I know that my great grandmother, GGM, came from Bern. Whether that is the Canton or the City, who knows. And I know that she lived in Interlaken and possibly Spiez. I only know this because of a 40 year old travel journal from my GM's trip to Switzerland. It says that a cousin took her to see the house her mother lived in in Interlaken. That is pretty clear. But, of course, there was no address or photo.

I know even less about my GGF. Could have been Bern, could have been Zurich, maybe both. Either way, we think that they were farmers and the family name originates in the Emmenthal region, so this all sounds right. But I know not their Heimatrecht. This is the needle in the proverbial haystack, that would potentially solve the mysteries. Or not.

As for all the random cousins mentioned in my GM's travel journal, I have no idea who they are. Yet. My days here are numbered, this time at least, so in the spirit of getting on with things, I just decided to stop looking for a needle in a haystack and just go on a Field Trip.

I have sort of done some shadowing in my GM's footsteps. I have seen some of what she visited, been some of the same places. But this particular route is where she spent a lot of time. We have been going skiing in the Bernese Oberland the last few weeks and the drive takes me past towns that sound familiar. They are mentioned in her journal.

A few weeks ago, after skiing, we stopped in Spiez. It was early evening and kind of cloudy. But I was able to snap a few photos of the town, lake and castle. Thanks Scott. I know you were tired and sore from a long weekend on the snow.

My trip to Interlaken was solo. I had time to really wander. I saw the Aare River, Interlaken Castle, churches and lots of mountains. It is a bit touristy, but still a charming town, nestled in a valley, between two lakes. I wandered up and down streets, in and out of shops, in and out of historic places. All the while I was taking photos and freezing because I forgot that scarf.

I realized after a bit that I was really looking for something, but didn't know what. Then it hit me. I was looking for them. Clearly GGF and GGM and all the random cousins, aunts, uncles and others that may still be alive were not going to walk up to me and say, "Hello. You finally made it. You belong to us. Let us fill in all the blanks for you." But I wished for that to happen, just like that.

As I was wandering, Seeing all the sights, I couldn't help but wonder. Was that the house GGM lived in? That farm looks nice and cozy and from the right time period. Maybe that was where GGF worked. Then I would notice names of businesses. Again, some were the same names that were mentioned in my GM's journal. It all gets kind of creepy, but in a good way. But at the same time, it was kind of lonely and a little sad that I don't get to know and See my GGM's house this time around.

Then I began to think about what I might have in common with these ancestors. I know nothing about them, other than their names. Do I look like them, do I have certain traits that they had? Who knows. But I did feel like I look like the people in this part of Switzerland. I saw men that look like my Dad, Santa with a tan face. I see old women that look like my GM. This I noticed the first time we went to this area. So maybe this is where they lived.

But why did they leave Switzerland? I guess I will never know that. I don't know if they lived on an Alp or down in town. I don't know if they had brown hair like me. But hopefully someday I will find some more genealogy answers and come to some conclusions. It would be pretty amazing to visit with living, distant family members here someday. Maybe I will speak better Deutsch by then.

No one jumped out and offered me my ancestry on a silver platter. So it was time to move on. Time to cross another thing off my Swiss List. I love lists. Scott says that is where my Swissness becomes evident. On to Thun, another small mountain and lake town.

GM had been to Thun, too. I was there to see an art exhibit. It was at Kunstmuseum Thun. The translation of the title of the exhibit is "Shifting Landscapes. Works from the Collection." http://www.kunstmuseum-thun.ch/index.php?id=335&L=1 It is sort of an homage to the disappearance of pristine, untouched mountain landscapes. Just like what my ancestors knew Switzerland to be, before infrastructure appeared. It was amazing. Each piece, really, had its own voice, told a different story. I had the place to myself, literally. So I lingered and looked and Saw all I could. My favorites were by Monika Ursina Jaeger and one piece called Matterhorn Project.

This stuff was right up a landscape architect's allee. Pun intended. Just the type of stuff that my eyes wander to, too regularly. The details that no one else notices, that I will spend hours photographing. But, despite the statement, I must admit that I think some infrastructure is beautiful, too. In a different way, it can be sexy.

When I was done with the exhibit, I thought about what to See next. Should I go look around Thun? Then I started getting that nagging feeling of needing to know something concrete about my ancestors again. I realized that what drew me to the Bernese Oberland in the first place, way back when we first arrived in Switzerland, was the mountains. Heck, that's what drew me to this art museum today. They are everywhere and I like that. In fact, it is as if the lake just laps right up on the mountain's feet here. My guess is that my ancestors didn't ski, but they spent lots of time in the mountains, either swimming, tending to the herd, making cheese, or picking crops. They were part of the mountain landscape. So maybe that is where I get my love of all things high and snowy. That would really explain a lot.

Let the Games Begin!

In the spirit of the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver, here is a little tidbit about the amazing Olympic Museum in Lausanne, Switzerland. It has an amazing park, whether you like the Games or not.

As you have probably learned by now, I love skiing and anything related to snow. On a recent Field Trip, we headed over to the Olympic Museum to check it out. I am a self-proclaimed fan of the Winter Olympics. I love to watch the skiing, boarding and those crazy luge riders. The Museum itself was a really big surprise.

They have all the usual paraphernalia related to sports icons. Lots of uniforms, shoes, skis, gear of all sorts. But it is architecturally pleasing and visually stimulating. The graphics are great, the wayfinding easy.

But it gets deeper than that. They go way back in history, showing Greek artifacts and explaining how they were used and what significance they had. That pleases the museum purists. Then, they have a really cool collection of medals. They are displayed in such a way that they easily convey all the cultural and site specific traditions that influenced the design of the medals. Something similar is done with the torches.

Basically, they start at the beginning and carry you all they way through Olympic history, keeping interest along the way. They also have a few films and photo montages that please the not-so-inclined-to-read-and-look-at-every-little-thing group.

Then I found the temporary exhibit on Vancouver. There are actually two or three exhibits. The first is an amazing collection of Canadian art including paintings, masks, sculpture and textiles. The next was a display of photographs taken by Canadian artists. And lastly, the sustainability exhibit.

I am sure that much of this exhibit was recycled and I love that. I mean that most of the material was probably used originally as presentation material when Vancouver pitched hosting the 2010 games. The exhibit systematically laid how exactly how and why the Vancouver Olympic Village and the actual Games are going to be greener than ever. I was really impressed. So much so that I really hope that they keep part of this exhibit and put it in the regular museum, as a cornerstone of the future of greener Games, greener everything. Go Team Canada!

Ever detail has been anticipated. Very little waste is produced without reuse or repurpose. The design of the village was founded on the fact that the village is not a temporary thing, but something that can add value to the community, long after the last souvenir stall closes up. A huge amount of money goes into constructing these villages, but the people of Vancouver will really benefit from the outcome. Can't wait to tune in a see how it all came together.

Then we headed outside. The Olympic Museum is situated on a hill, right next to Lake Geneva. The buildings are mostly modern and terraced. The main roof provides a gathering space and viewing platform. The roof edges are green. The transition between the buildings and architecture are obscured by placing the paths near the woodline at the edges of the park. The lower, main terrace features more Canadian art, including a totem as well as the famous Cauldron.

Pathways lead through trees, water features and sculpture, with lawn as a backdrop. A little information is given about each sculpture, but not too much. All the while, Lake Leman, shrouded in fog or not, beckons beyond. I visited on a rather rainy, dreary day, so the mountains that surround the lake were not so visible, but the vastness of the landscape didn't fail to impress.

The Olympic Museum opened in 1993. The Olympic Park was designed by Spanish landscape architect Jose Lardet. The sculptures come from all over the world. My favorite was Citius Altius Fortius by Miguel Berrocal. It is a torso which slowly opens, spins and closes, in six different pieces.

Some relics from the property's history remain onsite, integrated into the landscape, reminding the viewer of its past. Many of the trees predate the Museum. A 100 year old Oak was preserved.

At the foot of the hill, you are greeted by the Olympic Fountain and the massive lake.

This place was really well done, just like I hope the Vancouver Games will be. I can't wait to watch the Opening Ceremonies!

It's All in the Details

My mind wanders all the time. But I don't see this as a bad thing. I never really realized that other's minds don't tend to wander near as much. My mind wanders in a good way, I don't think it is a bad thing. I think it is just my strange brain's way of keeping the creative juices flowing. (Note to self: give Scott a break about having 29 things in his head at once!) And this is probably the reason I rarely get bored.

Here is one fine example of how it works. Yesterday, I had gone out on a Field Trip with the purpose of going to my favorite Basel museum, SAM, or Schweizerisches Architekturmuseum (www.sam-basel.org ). I only had a short time and I needed to be out of the apartment for that entire time. But I had a friend coming over for dinner, so I couldn't linger. This was sort of an unplanned, badly-timed Field Trip. Some days, strange things happen that are beyond the control of a Hausfrau, and one must just deal with things as they arrive. Just like my life at work.

First, I walked through the Kunsthalle Basel, which is attached to SAM. Wasn't really into that exhibit. Something about parallel universes.... Way too esoteric for me. Then I headed over to the two SAM exhibits. One was on MetroBasel, a book I have already read and loved. Basically, it is a cartoon version of one urban planning class's projects on how to improve the City of Basel. The studio is called ETH and the concept is by Herzog, De Meuron (Bejing Olympics Bird's Nest, anyone?) and Herz, whose offices happen to be across the street from our apartment. Very entertaining, great graphic presentation and a good history/geography/economic/sociology lesson about the area to me, the newcomer, for the small price of 12 Swiss Francs. So that went pretty quickly, been there, done that, loved it.

Upstairs I went, to the art exhibit. A mixture of super-crazy precise, geometric pencil and ink line drawings and some photographs taken by the artist, later in her career. I liked the photos. Then I headed into a small room way in the back of the exhibit where a slide projector was showing photos of the artist throughout her life. From childhood in India to her various studios, etc. It was pretty interesting so I stayed and watched for a bit. But here is when the mind wandering started.

The floor of the room was a sort of herringbone parquet. The wood was well used, deserved a little polish and maybe some poly, but was still in really good shape. As my mind was slowing slipping from the artist and headed to the floor, it just snowballed. Next, I am checking out how they did the edge treatment, trying to figure out if they started the pattern in the center or on the edge, and looking to see if it continued beyond the 4 walls. Maybe the room was originally bigger and for the purpose of the gallery, they put a wall up, which covered the beautiful floor pattern. This was not the case.

Next, I am cursing myself for not bringing my camera. I hate carrying it, but I hate it more when I forget it. I glanced back at the slide show for a minute, then the mind goes back to the floor. Maybe I could use the pattern to create a deck or patio someday. It would look really cool in irregular, reclaimed stone. Sort of a juxtaposition of order and disorder. I am also very fascinated by the idea of modular decking, so then my mind wanders there...

On it went. As it does most days, all day and probably in my dreams, too. Welcome to my world. It's all in the details.

The Matterhorn and Scale

Ever since I was little, I have always wanted to See the Matterhorn. Sometime back in history, I created a mental Bucket List. And the Matterhorn is on it. But now I can check it off. In fact, there are several items on my Exit List and Bucket List that are the same, so I fully expect my time in the Land of Milk and Money to be fruitful and lived to the fullest.

Why the Matterhorn? Well, I cannot pinpoint the exact reason. It happened when I was a child and unfortunately, my memory fails me sometimes. I guess my head is too full of random useless facts to remember with detail all the "critical" memories sometimes. But I am creative. So whether this is accurate or whether I created it in my creative mind to make myself happy, who knows. But this is what I remember and I like it this way.

We had a video game system by Texas Instruments when I was a child. When everyone else was playing Pac-Man on Atari, I was mountain climbing on a game called Alpiner (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alpiner). Yup, my love of mountains started young. The goal of the game was to climb 6 of the world's highest peaks. The Matterhorn was number 5 on that list. That's OK, I was only 9 or 10. Hadn't quite reached overachiever status by that point in my life and I was playing against my Dad and older sister at the time, so it was what it was. In fact, I have no idea how far I actually got in that game. But something about the Matterhorn appealed to me and it has stuck in my head all this time.

My grandmother also lived with us at the time. Her parents both immigrated to the US from Switzerland. Do you see another Bucket List item here? She probably told me stories about her trip to Switzerland and saw that I was excited about the Matterhorn, simply from playing this game. And so my need to See the Matterhorn was born.

I am certain that none of this made any sense to me at the time. Can anyone really explain why we get so nicely fixated on the things that we do? But I believe that everything in life happens for a reason. That reason may not be clearly evident at the time, but it will be eventually. So here I am, just a girl living in Switzerland, with Swiss ancestry, standing in front of the Matterhorn, Seeing that which I have admired from afar, for unknown reasons as a child. Priceless!

It was also all about scale. It was big, in fact immense, but it felt like it was totally conquerable. Our Field Trip only allowed us a few days in Zermatt. Too much to See and too little time, as usual. On our last day, we were a little tired and had a few well-earned blisters. But the mountain air is exceptional in making one feel like they can accomplish just about anything. We went up the gondola at Schwarzsee Paradise and decided to do the short hike to the lake.

Scott and I discussed what time we needed to leave by, so we could get back to Basel at a decent hour and give him a little time to relax. He had to work the next day. So we get to the lake, take in the immense scenery and I start watching a few people heading higher up. They seem to be making good time. Again, it is all about the perceived scale.So I say to Scott, "Lets just go a little further, up to that bump there. I can get better pictures from there." He lovingly agrees and we proceed.

Next stop, more of the same on my part. First a bump, then a hut, then a ridge. After a few of these discussions about, "just a little farther, please?" finally we get to a really shaky metal staircase that looks like it is barely attached to the side of the rock face. You can see through it because it is made form metal grids. But I insist that I must go on. I made it this far, I wasn't turning back. So instead of walking, I ran so as to cover more ground in less time without making Scott worry too much. But on my way back, after resigning to the Matterhorn, he had followed me and was insistent that we head down. He is a very wise man.

Talk about Seeing. It was amazing. I stopped when I realized that the trail turned into what looked like a mountain goat path. At this point, some sort of mountaineering gear would have probably been recommended (unless you are Swiss of course - they do this stuff from infancy). But we were so close, it looked like we could just reach out to touch it. Or fall to our untimely deaths into the valley below.

Along the way, we kept passing pairs of young, strapping Euro men with climbing gear who were descending so quickly that it looked like they were running down the mountain. On our way back down, one passed us. I wanted to talk to him to find out if he had just summited. But me, who walks faster than anyone else I know on normal terrain, except my husband, couldn't catch him to chat. I am just going to blame that on the blisters on my feet and that he was in such a rush, he probably wasn't interested in chatting with silly Americans anyway.

When we made it down and were relaxing on the train back to Taesch, we looked at the map. Little did we know at the time, we had been on the path to Hoernli Hut, which is at an elevation of 10,696 feet. This is where the climbers go to spend the night, before they try to get to the summit, a base cap of sorts. We probably stopped and turned around at about 10,000 feet, with basically just the ridge left to go. We were so close, but had to think about heading back to Basel. If I had known how close, I would have insisted on getting there. My sense of scale failed me in this vast landscape. Hmmm. Perhaps another time.

All in all, this Field Trip rocked. As a landscape architect, I think I understand scale. But one really has no concept of it until you spend some time at that altitude in such a vast, gorgeous expanse of harsh terrain. Seeing the Matterhorn was priceless.