RISD Studio: Baton Rouge “Living Library”

Baton Rouge is a unique city in the south of Louisiana -- a little brother to New Orleans, but a city that holds its own character in its reverence for history and tradition.  One of the most palpable flaws of the urban form of Baton Rouge is its distinct lack of public squares and plazas for civic congregation.  There are parks and courtyards and levy grandstands, but no reasonable gathering place, no good sense of orientation, no soapbox for its citizens to stand on.

With its proximity to city hall and a recently-completed performing arts building, the new library is intended to play a part in the revival of the public spirit of the city. The studio was conceived from a real municipal proposal for a library in this location, which offered us a unique opportunity to speak to the client about real parameters and constraints.  After a week-long trip to Louisiana with a stop over in Jackson, we brought back plenty of fuel at the start of this semester project.

RISD, Fall 2013
Client:  Baton Rouge and Louisiana Central Library
Instructors:  Warren Schwartz and Laura Briggs
Location:  downtown Baton Rouge, LA
Program:  contemporary library program including stacks, meeting rooms, media spaces, listening and recording booths, and multi-purpose activity zones

THE PROCESS

This semester began with a brief study of the native flora of the Mississippi delta.  The goal was to draw inspiration from natural forces prevailing on the site of our future project.  I chose to investigate a grassy plant called the briza minor, or the little quaking-grass, which multiplies prolifically in the region.  Additionally, I became fascinated with the formal vernacular of buildings in the city and surrounding region.  With their wide covered porches and lifted levels, the line between inside and outside, public and private, & even earth and sky was layered and blurred in these distinctly southern structures.    

As the design process began, I had the initial instinct to mimic the form of the plant and its functions, as I was attracted to its thinness and the geometry of its buds.  I soon concluded that the most interesting aspect of its form was not derived from metabolic functionality, such as the ability to gather water or efficiently photosynthesize.  The form -- which I defined as its density and the geometry of its growth -- was more directly related to its reproductive cycles and the range of flight of its heavy seeds.  I found that each blade and each bundle of seeds had a specific boundary of "personal space" that no pathogen could intrude upon, lest it killed the plant or impede reproduction.  

I asked myself: does this tell us anything about architectural space?  Can we find a conceptual parallel between the personal space of this grassy earth-indentured plant and the personal space of human beings?  Do we move in a similar way?  I began to map the reproductive (movement) cycles of the plant as an analog for the movement of people in space.  Thus dawned the idea of the "living library" which drove my proposal for the remainder of the semester.

Study models of plant geometry.

Initial massing model studies for library, 1/6"=1'-0"

THE PROPOSAL

My final solution to the library explored the concept of a "living library".  I envisioned the building as a landscape through which its inhabitants navigate fluidly and democratically by the mechanics of personal space.  Concentrated densities of lines and planes (structure and walls) give rise to varied levels of privacy for its patrons.  Gathering of all scales is encouraged, and individuals can feel free to indulge in the temptation to wander and observe.  In this manner, I attempted to establish a direct relationship between the interior logic of the building and the complex program of a public library.  

Below is a diagram of the connection between the North Street Greenway, the proposed library, and the Mississippi River.  One of the major reasons for raising the library off of the street was to reintroduce the river to civic life.  The river's levys rise up to 30' high, greatly inhibiting the public from ever experiencing the water's edge.  Additionally, Baton Rouge is located on a swampy floodplain, and if vernacular architecture tells us anything, it says to raise your house up off the ground.  The building also provides a shady plaza for outdoor programs in the sweltering heat of southern Louisiana.

Final models.