spaces-p2

Hidden spaces

There is nothing in architecture that evokes such a strong emotional response from me as a hidden place, whether it’s an abandoned building or a hidden equipment room. Sometimes the emotion is melancholy, or wonder, or trepidation, but it's always forceful and lingers on for several minutes.

Philadelphia

Once during a consulting job in Philadelphia, we spent several weeks working on a dark, uninhabited upper floor of a skyscraper, entirely filled with cast-off furniture and stained cubicle walls. Our only view was between old desks sitting on end, overlooking a boarded-up skyscraper that had burned several years prior.

St. Louis

I spent nearly two years exploring the underbelly (steam tunnels, air plenums, network closets,

elevator shafts) of Barnes Hospital in St. Louis, Missouri where I worked as a network installer. It's amazing the amount of crud that ends up above the false ceilings in research labs, and just how much of it you can accidentally inhale when moving the tiles.

Kansas City

I got to explore the old Smith St. John building in Kansas City, Missouri just days before its demolition. A massive 1920's four-story brick building, each room still held some vestiges of the prior inhabitants: random papers, a pencil stub, an old typewriter. The most impressive parts, though, were the dramatic stairs up to the second floor from the entry foyer, and the substantial sub-basement, with 20 foot ceilings and an absolutely massive boiler, roughly the size of a steam locomotive.

As an early teenager, I was allowed one afternoon to explore the darkened complex of catwalks on top of a false ceiling, 92 feet above ground level, at the Kansas City Municipal Arena. A haunting and beautiful place, except for the time that a maintenance person bumped into me and I

honestly came within about half a foot of falling to my death.