by Buck Bell (’24)
Abstract:
Places reflect their inhabitants. The two share an interlocked, mutually-shaped existence, and when separated, each testifies to the form of the other. With this piece, I wanted to explore the relationship between people and place by envisioning a future where, following a shift in our current social structure, the Regenstein Library had become the center of a self-sufficient commune. The story took the shape of an official report written and submitted by the cultural division of an ambiguous agency of the future. It incorporates crude photos of various wall-scrawlings throughout the Regenstein that illustrate the intersection between lives and spaces. With these images and the future “archeologists” studying them, I tried to turn the library itself into a scrutinized artifact, and to raise questions about how the Reg functions as a social space within an exclusive institution. I felt a tension between access and need: between the library as a symbol of intellectual freedom and as a walled-off private institute only open to members of the university. The speculative commune acknowledges that art and curiosity aren’t luxuries or commodities, but simply features of existence, like eating and sleeping. Removing the building from its current consensus and approaching it from an alien perspective allows preconceptions to dissolve and makes it easier to visualize alternative ways of being in the present.
Dimensions:
Area: 53612.95 m2
.
East-west maximum: 104.85 m.
North-south maximum: 125.58 m.
Proposal for diversion of personnel and resources.
Contents:
Initial observations; photographic evidence; conclusion and recommendations.
Initial Observation:
The structure 537.NH is the best-preserved site in this sector, which itself is among the best-preserved sectors in the metropolis. Architectural differences may suggest that the building is the oldest in the area and the surrounding structures were erected around it. Researchers have taken samples and are working to establish a more accurate timeline. Results will be published in tomorrow’s status report.
The building features a companion structure of reinforced glass which was apparently subterranean. This offshoot has since collapsed into itself, but organics detected throughout the site suggest that it was used as a kind of greenhouse. Agricultural implements have been recovered from the surrounding area. Plots of open ground around the main building show signs of cultivation, with the largest garden lying in a courtyard on the north side (see aerial imaging). Wild onions continue to grow in abundance. Almost all the exterior walls show evidence of improvised lattice work,
sometimes extending as high as ten meters. These were likely vertical gardens used to supplement limited ground access, but it’s possible they served an ornamental purpose. More such signs have been found on adjacent buildings, in various states of decay (see Section Overview).
On entering the main structure it was immediately clear that alterations had been made to the interior. Markings on the floor indicated that an additional set of doors, or perhaps a gate, had been removed to extend the entrance, possibly to facilitate the movement of groups and materials. The controlled entrance together with traces of surviving documentation (such as identification cards, preserved under glass) indicate that the building was not originally public, as initially assumed. It is not yet clear who was admitted and on what credentials.
The first level of the structure is a broad open area filled with chairs, tables, and benches. The walls are decked with artworks of all design and description, some of which remain in good condition. The layout of the room has been preserved for further forensic analysis. A smaller adjacent room contains tables of its own as well as an array of equipment for food preparation. From the greenhouse, and the fact that much of the surrounding area had been converted to farmland, it appears that the settlement was at or approaching self-sufficiency, although more data is necessary before an accurate estimation of the group’s population can be made. Printed materials are profuse throughout the building, particularly on the upper levels. Many of these materials remain legible. Our advance team has begun the task of scanning, translating, and archiving them for dissemination through the network.
It appears the community that settled here was able to support itself through equitable labor practices and the careful distribution of resources. Living spaces have been set up on every level. Art seems to have played a major role in their lives. The books were cared for when they could have been cleared out for extra space, composted, burned as fuel, or simply neglected. It’s clear that energy was devoted to their organization and
protection. Materials for the art that was discovered were improvised from several sources, natural and manufactured, including large ink deposits scavenged from industrial machines. When the space was in its prime, there was probably not a bare spot on any wall.
Sample of preliminary photographic evidence (full collection available in data unit):
These images were captured on our initial survey of the structure. We believe that these markings offer a significant insight into the culture of this place and how it might have formed. Results of graphological analysis will be published in subsequent reports.
Figure 1.1: “I hate this school!!!!!” Black ink. Located on level three. The first of several inscriptions made in
apparent distress.
Fig. 1.2: “Don’t take PBPL Authoritarian Regimes.” Below, added later by the same writer: “It sucks sooooo Bad.” It is not yet clear whether these markings predate the establishment of the community here. It is possible that this message reflects a rising tide of anti-authoritarian sentiment that led to the abolition of a former order, but more research is required before any claims can be made.
Fig. 1.3: “I wanna drop out and be a tattoo artist/barista [I’m gay]”. A response beneath reads, “Do it!” A third inscription reads, “L + Bald.” Above them all is the symbol of a heart with another heart within. This sample reveals the interactive nature of these wall messages. Though anonymous, they countered repression with expression, and could be encouraged – or belittled – by others in a unique dialectical mode. Presumably the author of a marking would return to it over time to see if any additions had been made to the original.
Fig. 1.4, lower left: Various markings contained within a large sketch of a heart. Some of the messages have been crossed out and contradicted by others. There are at least six distinct styles of handwriting in this image. The heart was probably drawn first, and its emptiness invited others to leave their messages inside.
Fig. 1.5, lower right: Another collage of different styles, encouraging, expletive, and plaintive. Faintly, in the center, one author wrote “You are doing great,” and “Looking lovely babes.” To this latter someone replied, “You can’t see me.” At the bottom someone wrote, “I feel your pain.” Another replied, “Do you?” These tables on the upper levels were sites of intense struggle and support.
Fig. 1.6: Here we see a kind of epitaph to a sexual encounter, and the date when it occurred – another reminder that this space was once home to living, breathing people, as abandoned as it might seem now. Beneath this entry is an insult in response to the initial disclosure, implying that sexual behavior here was unusual, and discouraged.
Fig. 1.7: On the opposite wall, we see another heart with the initials J and H written inside it, in the same hand as Fig. 1.6. Throughout the structure we see the many ways in which people expressed and individuated themselves under duress and within the confines of dense co-habitation. This is a theme we can understand as our current expedition continues.
Conclusion and recommendations:
For one thing, in these markings we can see indications of names. No other such indications have been found elsewhere, even among the artwork. In addition, no human remains have been recovered from the site. It is our hope that further research will help us deduce what happened here, where they all went, and what traces they have left for us to find – what testimony of their presence in this private institute turned autonomous communal shelter, art gallery, farm, library, home. No weapons, barricades, or defensive apparatus have been detected. The people who lived here seem to have had no interest in or need for war. Of the many sites our researchers have analyzed so far, this one is an anomaly. People lived here comfortably
– with enough time to paint and read – for a period of many years, while other settlements along the continental metropolis show the familiar scars of conflict and famine. It is not yet clear to us how this level of safety and comfort was achieved. It is also not clear to us how it ended. There is a wealth of evidence here, and given more time, personnel, and resources, we could answer these questions and reveal new ones, which is the reason for our repeated proposals and requisition forms.
Submitted by the Forward Division of Culture and Ecology. Reference code 8354.
Current designation 537NH.
RESPONSE PRIORITY BLUE.