When drawing Harvard’s campus (from Quad to athletic facilities) from memory, I mapped out the common Harvard shuttle routes and differentiated the buildings from undergraduate living spaces, classrooms, and businesses. After looking at my colored sketch from a distance, I realize that I am most familiar with the areas contained within the shuttle routes. I live in the Quad and walk to golf practice very often, so I feel like I have an unusually good sense of these relatively distant parts of campus. After comparing my own sketch to Google Maps, I am most surprised by how little I remember of walkways cutting through the yard and the streets that go through upperclassmen housing. My sketch also reminds me of a somewhat futile representation of Jeffersonian planning, where the Yard is the most central public space and all other surroundings are individual gardens in a somewhat grid-like format. In the vicinity of the Yard are buildings where classes take place, buildings where business occurs, and buildings where upperclassmen can live. It is interesting to see how living, learning, and business spaces all merge together at Massachusetts Avenue. I also found it interesting to find that streets that divide different sections (i.e. living, learning, business) tend to be bigger.
Overall, my map is pretty inaccurate; however, my portrayal of the Harvard Yard and Tercentenary Theatre areas is decent. I think this is because, as a freshman, I spend most of my time around the Yard so that region has become the most meaningful to me. It is also what I see on a daily basis, so I know my way around a bit better. The major flaw of my map is that I made the Yard too close to the Charles River. I think part of this was simply miscalculation while drawing, but another part is that I do not venture to the upperclassmen houses as much so I do not really know what is around there. When I do go to the river, I usually do so on runs so that makes the distance feel shorter than it is. Additionally, I made the river very large since, as I do not cross it that much, it feels like a strong barrier between Harvard and Boston. I also did not know the arrangement of streets in Harvard Square because I walk everywhere. Overall, the way my map turned out makes sense to me. It is accurate in the places I frequent, and very off in unfamiliar areas.
The Copley Place and Prudential Center malls and Newbury Street display a stark contrast in the different modes one can organize a retail center or area. First, Newbury is very open, with stores in townhouse style buildings along the street. I think the organization is interesting in its usage of space. As I show in my sketch, the entrances to the stores tend to alternate between having to go upstairs and downstairs. This maximizes the amount of land used, while still giving each shop an individual storefront. Additionally, the street is made more pleasant by the cohesiveness of the brick buildings and the trees planted orderly along the large sidewalk. The attractiveness of the street makes people want to spend more time in the area which leads to them shopping more. In contrast, the two malls are much more enclosed than Newbury Street. They go up several stories and have few windows. The bridge connecting the two malls allows shoppers to stay completely isolated from the outside world, while Newbury street is very much immersed in the city. Newbury is very “old Boston” while the malls are quite modern. In my sketch, I depicted an aerial view from the top of Copley Place. I thought the shape of the space was an interesting polygon. I also noticed the many different paths of shoppers but I could not really see the actual stores from that angle. I made my sketch a lot about the motion of the shopping rather than the specific stores.
I'm fascinated with the way that I know some details of Harvard Square very well, and other details not at all, even though I walk by them all the time. The shops on Mass Ave. especially, I really struggled to remember the names of. Also, after thinking I had scaled everything really well, I realized I didn't have enough room for the River OR the Quad. Go figure. I loved walking around the square after I had finished most of my sketch, because it felt like parts of my drawing were coming to life, and parts were going horribly wrong. All in all, a great look at how we think about space in general. I look forward to more assignments like this one!!
It dawned on me as I worked on my sketches: A mall is an attempt at the mystical idea of a cobblestone street in Europe with shops on either side, and everyone leisurely enjoying a nice summer day. The attempt is almost too good in a way. Malls like those at Prudential or Copley almost have TOO much natural light, TOO many beautiful trees, a WATERFALL?? But it's easy to see why it's enticing. Newbury Street seems to be the attempt at this, but in an outdoor setting. In some ways, it gets closer to the goal, and in some ways it does not. With street performers, trees that actually obey the current weather, a breeze, runners, and more, Newbury Street feels more like real life. But as a result, especially this time of year, there are no people sitting outside cafes, and few people stop to look at anything like they can in the mall. Everyone is on a mission (until nice weather at least). With a mall we try to have the best of both worlds, just like those who try to have the city and the country together. I certainly prefer Newbury Street, where I get to at least experience the day, instead of an unsettlingly perfect environment.
This assignment certainly posed a unique challenge. It was fascinating to see how my mind is concentrated on the areas that I know best and how to get between them. My high school commute was prominently featured, as transportation hubs featured strongly as did the clearly defined route of the redline. Places where I spend a great deal of time, such as the quad, Adams House, and my laboratory in Northwest Labs were also evident. When I went to add color it was interesting how the most important aspect for me was greenery, which seemed to add some depth and texture to an otherwise soulless map. For the most part I correctly identified orientation and number of streets in the region, but I failed most to acknowledge the size and complexity of the blocks. Areas that I knew better tended to be smaller with greater detail paradoxically, and those that I did not grew large and incoherent.
My map was focused on me and therefore decent for the paths I take most frequently—upperclassmen houses, buildings I have classes in, and stores and restaurants that I visit. I also included certain markers that I use. For instance, on my way to the Quad, I know I’m almost there when I see the second Longy Music School building, but I don’t pay attention to whatever is in between. Similarly, I see Boston only in terms of the buildings and roads that I am familiar with. Additionally, I realized that I drew almost all buildings as rectangles, because I never thought about what they looked like from above. This may suggest that I relate to places and buildings in a city for their functions rather than their architecture. I also noticed that I prioritized fitting everything in rather than geographical accuracy. As a Harvard Band member, I play at hockey, basketball, and football games, but I realized, I had no idea how big the buildings were, just their relative placement. Quincy house, for instance, became over-elongated because in my head it went two blocks, so that took precedent over its realistic size. Even though I know the streets, I don’t really have a sense of size when thinking about a city.
I think that, just from looking at this sketch, it would be pretty obvious to any Harvard student where I live, at least to an extent. I began my sketch starting with my house, Dunster, in the bottom right corner, and planned to work northwest-ward as I went. Unfortunately, after getting caught up in the intricacies of the streets and other River houses, I realized too late that my scale was off, and that there was no way I would be able to include both the Yard and the Quad in my sketch. I’m fairly pleased with how I represented the River Houses (apart from Adams…which was affected by my confusion regarding “that one slanted street”—I couldn’t remember how Bow and Arrow street fit into the overall picture). My focus son the Houses, though, left a lot of the interesting parts of Harvard Square unsketched, and didn’t give me the chance to dig into my memory to see how much I could remember of my one year in the Yard.
Copley/Prudential As I ascend flight upon flight of escalators up to Copley Place, I feel myself being transported to another world—to a quiet and glamorous realm, safely perched several floors above the hustle and bustle of the streets below. I’m struck by just how conscious of a design effort the elevation changes present at each entrance/exit must have been, and by the message that they not-so-subtly convey—that Copley, and to some extent, the Pru, are elevated, literally “high” class spaces. The contrast in design materials as one descends from Copley into the Pru is marked: gone are the cool stone benches, glitzy gold-trimmed handrails and multicolored marble floors of Copley. While the Pru admittedly lacks some of the sophistication of its conjoined twin, this change is clearly intentional, and the Pru feels decidedly more welcoming as a result. Friendlier to weary shoppers than Copley’s skylit, centralized plaza approach which limited to benches and greenery primarily to one main area, wooden benches and potted plants dot the hallways of the Pru. In a single hallway, I count more benches than the total number I saw in all of Copley—a logical choice, given that the Pru appears to have far more shoppers than the almost prohibitively expensive Copley. The trio of security guards standing vigilantly at their posts throughout Copley also seems to have been reduced to one sole guard stationed by the Pru's entrance. Newbury Street Reminiscent of some of the sights common throughout the Pru and Copley, brightly lit brand names (albeit stuck to brownstones) and sale promotions littering both sides of the sidewalk announce that I have arrived at Newbury. Glancing above the throngs of people at the windows above the storefront to my left, I catch a glimpse of what I can only assume is someone watching TV in their apartment, and I find myself reminded of Newbury’s multiple identities and purposes. Vastly different from the lofty, secluded Copley, or even the Pru, Newbury is embedded into the city's fabric with T stops marking its length, blurring the lines between residential area, commercial center, and commuter thoroughfare. I move along the public street, weaving my way through groups of people who could be found on any other street in Boston—Newbury's dog walkers, homeless, and buskers, in contrast Newbury's meandering shoppers, however, would likely not be looked upon favorably by mall security in places like Copley or the Pru. Apart from its distinctly non-mall-like outdoor restaurant seating, Newbury also lacks benches of any kind, and shoppers in need of a rest need either walk to the bench-filled Commonwealth Mall to the north, or to pop down into any of Newbury's many cafés, inserted into spaces that must have once been Newbury's garden-level apartments.