Early September. Between 1:45 and 2:00 in the afternoon--very hot. Unusual (see "Early September"). At the so-called Urban Room w/ Alessandro, Bryn, Madie, and Marie. None of us know each other yet, and this is the first time we've all gotten together. The first walkabout. We took the train down from campus to get there--to the Urban Room (hereafter the UR). I think that sets the scene well: just as public transportation represents a convergence of many socio-economic (there has to be a less pretentious way to say that. "Socio-economic".) backgrounds, so does the UR. Inside the space itself I felt peculiarly alien. That must have something to do with the fact that we were there to study, to probe the place.
There are students hidden behind laptops (I didn't find out if there was free internet), families with small children, older men and women talking over coffee, and scruffy teenagers with very billowy shirts who look oddly out of place. Most of these are on their way to the library (you literally have to pass through the UR to get to the books, which is convenient for the businesses in the UR [see below]) but some of them, a sturdy minority, stick around the UR. It's pretty hard not to. You don't--at least I don't--expect to find something like the UR surrounding the city library. The space is massive, a long, very wide hall, unifying five open levels along the outside edge filled with leather chairs and coffee tables, gently curving around the library's exterior. The place is filled with almost entirely natural light. Along the outer edge there are small businesses, all local. A cafe, a garden shop, a small art gallery, a comic book store, etc.
It occurs to me that the UR is not exactly the kind of place most people would plan on visiting--at least it wouldn't be their sole destination. It's more like a place you just end up at, pleasantly surprised to spend fifteen or twenty minutes out of the sun, or to peruse the shops, before moving on to the library, or wherever. In that way the UR is both a node and path. A node because it is a kooky place, one that the intrepid traveler could spend a bit of time in, and a path because the traveler could just as easily walk right through without much thought. The whole place--the UR--is a great little component of the city at large, something that adds to its identity, that helps to set Salt Lake apart from other cities.
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I am so happy that you took light rail down to the library. They have made parking incredibly challenging so light rail is actually the best way to go. I am always amazed at the sharp socio-economic contrasts I observe on light rail, it is one of those truly public experience to travel on public transportation. I sometimes feel incredibly annoyed, delighted or amused, or a little bit scared. But it is a great way to get a sense of people who inhabit this city that you don't usually see--people when their guard is down or when they're done with work and tired, ready (check out the novels they're reading quite the range!), looking out the windows (don't you wonder what they're thinking?) and waiting patiently for the next best thing to happen. I love that sort of sharing with strangers, wouldn't always want to strike up a conversation, but love sharing the space with the sleepy homeless man who rides light rail all day long, the teenaged girls plotting for the heavy duty flirting they plan to do at Gateway or downtown, or the weary working men and women who just spread out and claim their seat in a way to makes you know you better not dare to sit next to them--or else.
ReplyDeleteI look forward to seeing the images you captured, it is difficult to capture the energy of this room that is, as you say, so surprising and bold. Good job!