How new is this place? And do I have a sense of it?
It is not often that I have started these posts with a question. But it seems right at this time.
And I need to ask another question first. What is Sense of Place?
There is discussion within the architectural community of whether a person can design an edifice so that it has sense of place. I believe there is, but as you will notice I have written that use of sense of place in lower case letters.
I believe that sense of place can be designed and built into many things; a memorial like the Vietnam Memorial; The National Cathedral in Washington DC, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France, Stonehenge in England. These man-made constructions make a statement, and it is in that statement that the edifice can have a sense of place.
But what about Sense of Place (using capital letters)? I believe that this is a person’s inner feeling that draws them into having a strong personal attachment for any location that “moves” them.
I spent several years studying this concept and wrote my dissertation for my PhD on this concept, but was I able to give a definition that envelopes all the feelings that any person who comes to a place might have – or that all the people have?
At the Vietnam Memorial I believe there is a sense of place in the edifice, as people know where they are and what it was built to represent. It is space, set apart by this nation , and hallowed, dedicated to the men and women who died during the Vietnam War. For me, and I imagine many others, I have Sense of Place at the Memorial, the Wall. It is as much a monument to my mother and father as it is to my brother. I can walk along and read the names of my friends, and people I knew, and my brother, and I am personally moved. I might not have the same feeling anywhere else. It is my feeling; it is different from that of everyone else that walks past and reads their brother’s name or a friend’s name on the wall. We all have a strong feeling, and we respect each other’s attendance at this hallowed ground, but the individual Sense of Place is all mine. I might come in the early morning and play my flute. But that is my response to the place. Others may come, but it is different, with different emotions and different memories. And the sense of place designed into the edifice resonates with and adds to my personal Sense of Place.
And there are many other places that I have – and I imagine that everyone else has – a personal Sense of Place. The woodland trails that I sing on. The roads that I drive. The house that I drive up to. The room in the house where we played. No architect designed the space so it would be memorable. But my memories of that room and that window and of the events that happened there and the sounds coming up from downstairs, they all add up to my Sense of Place for that room.
But what of a new place? My family and I drove out to a farm and vineyard in the high foothills of the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia. We had never been there before. We were looking forward to being in a new place and looking at a different view and having different thoughts.
We drove up the winding road to the top of the hill. We walked across the gravel parking lot. We went inside and ordered something to drink. We stepped out onto the patio. My world was changed forever.
I had seen these mountains before. I had driven through this valley often. I had climbed to the top of Old Rag and hiked the open trails of Sky Meadow and looked out over these same lands. I have memories of each of these places, some alone and some with friends. On Old Rag, once I met a large black bear at twilight – and that certainly gave me a Sense of Place. I was alone – and so was he.
But now I have this new place. It was a beautiful Fall day. We had lunch, and we talked, and we laughed and took pictures. And when we walked back to the car each of had our own memories of the valley and a fresh “Sense of Place” tied to each other and our memories of the new place.
Picture taken from the plaza at Dirt Farm Brewery in Bluemont, Virginia. The terrace has a terrific view of the Loudon Valley in the eastern foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Website: Home – Dirt Farm Brewing