A love affair with space…
When I was a relatively small child I had, from time to time, the occasion to visit some of the older homes and apartments around Jefferson City. Often, these occurances were to help friends that my dad collected while working at the Christian bookstore move into a new apartment. Sometimes downtrodden people, at least as I remember them. Growing up as I did, in a home that was small but new when we moved into it, I thought anyone who lived in a home older than 20 years was poor. Not that we had any fortune of significance, but poor as far as I knew it. The detail and craftsmanship of these homes fascinated me. Why should that kind of craftsmanship and architectural beauty be reserved only for people of limited means?
I knew that at some point in my life, I just had to live in a home like this. As I grew a little older my interest in design, particularly that of interior spaces, became a stronger and more prevalent influence in my life. I found that the spaces I was most drawn to were modern ones created inside the preserved shells of older homes. At some point it became clear that monetary wealth had nothing to do whether people chose to live in an older home or not.
The history of architecture and its inhabitants began a thirst in me that in spite of my research, touring, and current living situation remains unquenched even today.
I watched a movie tonight that took place in the late ’50s and early ’60s. The setting was a little bit older town and so most of the architectual details in the homes were those common right around the turn of the century. My current apartment here in Chicago was built in 1901. Recently, I had the opportunity to tour the (currently) vacant apartment upstairs. Because of unruly tennants, our place has had more cosmetic updates than the place upstairs. Both places retain many of the original details and much of the building’s charm.
These details jump out at me with some frequency, but even more often they are lost in the day to day business of life. Right after watching this movie tonight though, they hit me with new and intensified importance and familiarity.
The crowns on the windows doors, the 10 inch baseboards, the paneled archway and the coffered ceilings. They’re all filled with the stories of the past hundred and eight years. During World War 1, this apartment was here… people lived in it, perhaps one if their children fought. On December 7, 1941 its inhabitants likely sat in this living room, or the kitchen and listened to the radio reports. World War 2, the Kennedy Assassanation, the Challenger explosion, all of them were recieved and considered by people living in this apartment. The people living here, these events affected them, their decisions their tastes, and therefore their contributions to the current character and state of this structure. What were their lives like?
Why was the double-hinged door dividing the front and back of the apartment removed? The holes from its hinges remain. Did it break? What events led to its removal? Was there a fight between a husband and wife in which the door broke? I wonder what happened here. I wonder what happened all over this city.
Brett Patrick Casey :o)
