Over the past few years, we’ve shared some of our favorite travel adventures with you. Often, we deliberately choose to share places that are less common to show you that good architecture can exist anywhere. We’ve shared stories about volunteering in Thailand, Sri Lanka, and Nepal. We’ve also shared observations in California, visiting Sea Ranch and Joshua Tree.
Our goal with these travel posts is to share what we observe, learn, and think about as we explore these interesting places and structures to give you a different look and deeper understanding of how we as architects view architecture and see the world around us.
In today’s travel journal, we look at how two projects (a chapel and a museum) located in the rolling hills of the Ozarks in northern Arkansas resonate with their place –and do so in completely different ways.
But first, what does “resonate with a place” and create a “sense of place” mean?
We’ve mentioned this idea of creating a sense of place in our post on Timeless Design. It means that a building is connected to its location, responds to its surroundings, works with the topography, and maximizes views. In doing so, the structure strengthens its purpose for existing in the first place. And, you can’t imagine it anywhere else. The feeling that the architecture feels “right” for its place in its context is often called “spirit of place” or “genius loci” —the sense of belonging where it is.
At YRa+d, we strive to create homes that have a deep and meaningful relationship with their context, whether its a natural landscape or an established neighborhood. To create this strong sense of place, we try to tease out the unique qualities of a landscape. Then, we try to highlight them in the design and create continuity between the built architecture and the natural landscape. We’re always thinking about the big picture. And when it comes time to think about the small details, we’re thinking about how they impact the whole. Good architecture should seek to feel complete in its larger context —an object in a room, a room in a home, and a home on its site. That’s what helps it feel “right” for its place and resonate with it.
Let’s look at two projects we visited that resonate with their place.
Thorncrown Chapel
Thorncrown Chapel was designed by E. Fay Jones (an apprentice of Frank Lloyd Wright and Arkansas native) and built in 1979 outside of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. The chapel is located along a winding country road tucked back in the forest. You wouldn’t know it existed if the signs weren’t there.
Visiting Thorncrown chapel was an unexpected delight and we’re so glad we stopped by.
As you walk towards the chapel, the path meanders through the woodland forest. As you arrive at the 48 ft tall wooden structure, you approach its front face. You see its tall solid doors against a backdrop of glass, a gabled roofline, and an intricate wooden latticework forming the roof structure.
The head-on approach and siting were deliberate by the architect. He purposefully left a mystery to the rest of the enclosure by not giving away any other visual perspective of the rest of the structure.
However, upon entering the chapel you experience something unexpected.
The massing of most religious buildings has traditionally been very solid with few windows. The historic cathedrals in Europe and even newer structures in the US are tall, solid, and dark. They exude a grandiose stature where we retreat to for worship and introspection.
The Thorncrown Chapel, however, is not like this. It’s architect, Fay Jones, talks about operative opposites in his designs. Operative opposites means when you enter a place, you get the opposite of what you’re expecting. When you enter this chapel, there is nothing but windows. There is little distinction between the outside and the inside. It’s completely unexpected.
There’s so much glass, 6000 square feet in total, that you walk in and actually wonder if you’re still outside. The wooden structure is the only thing visually “enclosing” you in the space. Otherwise, you feel like you’re part of the forest. This feeling reinforces your sense of place. There’s no question you’re in the Ozark forest.
Fay Jones practiced organic architecture by making his design one with their environment. All organic materials make up the chapel helping it fit its natural setting. The floor and wall base are native flagstone to root the structure into the hillside.
Wood is predominantly used as the main building material throughout the chapel. In order to preserve the surrounding landscape, Fay decided that no structural element should be larger than what two people could carry through the woods. Therefore, all structural members were either dimensional lumber or built-up trusses assembled on the floor and raised into place.
Light, shadows, and reflections play a major role in the dynamic ambiance of the space. Because of the chapel’s elaborate trusses and the surrounding trees, constantly changing patterns of light and shadows appear during the day as the sun moves across the sky. Consequently, Thorncrown never looks quite the same. Its appearance changes throughout the day and during the different seasons of the year.
The most striking feature to us about Thorncrown Chapel is its ability to dissolve into the landscape. Its glass and wooden boundaries blur away and you actually feel like you’re in a wooded forest, not in an enclosed structure. It’s a powerful design move and an effective way to connect you to your surroundings and reinforce your sense of place in the greater context.
Crystal Bridges Museum of Art
Crystal Bridges was designed by architect Moshe Safdie in 2011. Alice Walton (daughter of Sam Walton, founder of Walmart) commissioned Safdie to create an American art museum in her hometown of Bentonville, AR. The site consisted of 120 acres of forest which Walton wanted guests to have access to while at the museum.
The rolling hills and natural landscape of the Ozark site moved Safdie. Envisioning a building that would complement the surrounding Ozark landscape, he chose to incorporate the landscape into his design. This allowed guests to experience both the art and the natural setting during their visit.
Moshe Safdie was inspired by E. Fay Jones and Frank Lloyd Wright, who both emphasized a structure’s connection to its site and included natural waterways in their designs. In order to minimize tree removal, Safdie’s idea was to dam the stream to create spring-fed ponds and then build around and across those ponds like the old mill towns of Arkansas.
[Photos courtesy Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art.]
His vision was for a series of buildings on both sides of the water, nestled into the ravine and joined by signature bridge structures. Visitors then circulate from one pavilion to the next, circling and crisscrossing the ponds. The surrounding crown of trees is visible above the roofline of the museum in all directions.
The design of the pavilions’ roof forms was deliberate and responsive to the site’s characteristics. The barrel-vaulted curved roofs of the bridge buildings reflect the rolling hills of the surrounding topography while the concave roofs of the side buildings continue the downward sloped line of the ravine edge.
[Photo left: courtesy Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. Photo by Timothy Hursley.]
The dramatic roof structure of curved wood beams and steel rods is exposed, showcasing their tectonic nature. Glass skylights slice through the roof framing offering glimpses to the sky and filtering light into the spaces.
The glass curtain walls of the bridge pavilions create the illusion that the massive wooden roofs are floating unsupported above. They also enhance the connection to the surrounding ponds and nature outside.
The presence of water in the design enhances the organic, natural feel of Crystal Bridges. By day, sunlight on the ponds casts undulating reflections onto the interior walls and ceilings, reminding guests of the water outside. By night, the lights from within the Museum reflected on the ponds’ surfaces.
[Photo right: courtesy Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art.]
Material selection was deliberate. Weathering over time, they acquire a gentle patina that helps the structure blend into the natural landscape. The concrete bases and locally-sourced wood show signs of the aging especially in areas most susceptible to weathering —near the water’s edge and areas exposed to the elements.
“I think it was the fact that we were immersed in wood here… that made me feel that we must build this place out of wood, and wouldn’t it be wonderful if that was Arkansas wood. So out of the earth comes concrete, which is banded with wood, and then the structures above us are ll made of a very contemporary modern use of wood… A very sophisticated structure, but made out of the old materials.” -Moshe Safdie
What is interesting about the museum is its approach. You arrive at the museum and ask, “Where is it?“
Unlike the approach to most museums, visitors to Crystal Bridges must travel down rather than up to enter the main lobby —akin to Fay Jones’s principle of operative opposites.
Because the building rests inside a natural ravine, there is no real hint of the existence of the museum beyond the simple colonnade at the main entrance. It’s not until you enter through an opening in the colonnade and descend to the pond level do you really start to understand the intentionality of the museum’s siting.
[Photo courtesy Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. Photo by Dero Sanford.]
The site also includes natural springs, streams, geographical features, and a host of native plants and animals. Winding throughout the property, an extensive trail system creates a personal interactive experience.
[Photo right: courtesy Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art.]
Crystal Bridges is a great example of site-specific design. At any point during your visit to the museum, you’re reminded of the surrounding landscape. The building siting, massing, and materials all connect you to the site, but also your senses and experiences. You can see the trees and water through the glass. You can hear the wildlife and slow-moving water. There are walking paths and outdoor art installations to interact with. And, you can sense the undulation of the topography in the symbolism of the roof lines.
Thorncrown Chapel peels away and dissolves into the background to let nature take center stage. Crystal Bridges stands solidly in its place, mimicking nature in its roof forms and heightening your awareness of nature’s presence around you even though you squarely feel a part of the built architecture. Both are powerful examples of architecture resonating with their place in their own unique ways.
Time and funds to complete both? Part of the story. Suppliers and workers are also critical but frequently left uncredited.
Agreed! I spent the better part of an hour looking at the “Making of Crystal Bridges” display at the Museum and marveled at the engineering feats involved in creating the project. I even bought the book describing the architecture and construction process to dive into more. I believe it took 5 years to construct and costs were withheld by the client (as is usually the case). As for Thorncrown, construction took 1 year, and again, costs were withheld, but it was noted that funds were running out when a generous donation from an unknown Illinois woman came through).
I absolutely love your work and writings. I have been a follower for almost a year now and you are one of the few architects that I know that bring the architectural themes and practices down to a scale that makes sense to me as a lowly homeowner. Your work is great and you are on the top of my list of consultants to call when I build my next home. Keep it up.
Thanks for the kind words, Lee! We’re so glad you’ve enjoyed all our content. We try really hard to select topics we think are important and would appeal to you. We also feel it’s a necessity to speak in a way that everyday people can understand (which is something that we notice so few architecture firms do). Thanks again for reading!