Before we meet on Wednesday, I want you to visit one of the buildings on main campus (Memorial Library, The Cage, College Chapel, Morgan Deerfield). Standing outside, walking around the structure, listen to what that building is saying. This will be our only opportunity to see visual rhetoric in its natural habitat. After this safari, what we catch, contain and bring into the classroom will be, because it is contained and removed, somewhat artificial, or steps removed from its intent and original context.
How to listen to buildings:
- What is the building’s vocabulary? (What is it made of? Its materials.)
- What is the building’s grammar? (What is its form? What is its function?)
- In what style is the building designed and made? What tradition? Why that style and not another style? (Think about the decisions the builders made.)
- What is purely functional (grammar) and what is merely for effect (rhetorical flourish)? How did function limit the architect?
Visual communication is a transaction. What do you bring to this transaction? Think about:
- How the building makes you feel
- Your own cultural biases and orientation
- The intent of the builders in sending a message (How choreographed is the message you are receiving? Intentionality)
Your assignment: Do the safari, then post your observations and reactions to this post. Do so before 9am, Wednesday, April 24.
What is the building’s vocabulary? (What is it made of? Its materials.) The building is made up of bricks on the outside, with white wood trimming and wood on the steeple. The shingles on the roof are a grayish color. The inside of the chapel has red carpet and a white wood altar. The pews are made of a light colored wood.
What is the building’s grammar? (What is its form? What is its function?) The form of the building is that of a small chapel. It is a place for worship or gathering of groups of people to converge over a certain matter.
In what style is the building designed and made? What tradition? Why that style and not another style? (Think about the decisions the builders made.) The chapel seems to be very traditional chapel due to the seating on either side of the aisle which is composed of pews along with the seating that faces the aisle of the chapel. There is a choir-like loft that hangs above the entrance of the church just after the small narthex. I believe it is this way to show that it is technically a chapel, and it was built more in the time when Berry was known for its Christian basis.
What is purely functional (grammar) and what is merely for effect (rhetorical flourish)? How did function limit the architect? Even though pews are more traditional within a chapel, it seems as thought they are more for the function of allowing more people to fit into the small space. The pews even though they are convenient do not seems to go with the rest of the church’s appearance with darker brick in the interior contrasting with the red floors and white ceiling and columns along the aisles.
How the building makes you feel: The building, when alone gives me a sense of peace. It is a place of worship. When with other people it seems to be a place of meeting and possible fellowship.
Your own cultural biases and orientation? As a Christian I believe I am more influenced by the religious aspects of the building, and see it more than just a meeting spot.
The intent of the builders in sending a message (How choreographed is the message you are receiving? Intentionality) I believe the building is well choreographed to be a chapel with the layout and the presence of the altar and crosses throughout the building. The layout is a traditional chapel with the long aisle/choir loft/ pews/ and and altar.
This is good, Michelle. For everyone else, no need to repeat the questions. And I’d like you to interpret a bit more and write less about your direct observations. In other words, in noting that a building is brick, stone and wood, what are that structure’s connotations? Being made of stone and brick would seem to communicate permanence. Contrast a brick structure with one made out of thatch, for example.
Notice who can see and who can be seen, as well. Windows. Light. The steeple, for example, has windows. Why?
Let me see your thinking.
Currently, I am sitting in the lobby of the Cage Center watching the Little League World Series on ESPN as two baseball players lounge in the chairs near me. They haven’t been terribly chatty but seem quite intent on coming across as cool to everyone. (Don’t get me wrong, they seem nice, just very macho.) From the athletic gear they are wearing to the way they carry themselves, their vibes scream “I play sports.” The funny thing is, they seem right at home here in the Cage. And even more interesting is that even though I don’t know them, I get that perception of their athletic ability immediately. What in our culture teaches us to identify athletes based on how they look? Because if one looks at all the really famous college or professional athletes, I don’t think there is any one defining, across-the-board characteristic about all of them, yet we can easily look at a group of people and identify those who are “athletic.” Why is that?
The entire building is clearly designed for those serious about athletics. As one approaches from the outside, first off, it is imposing simply because of its size. Everything is on a grand scale. The huge columns add to the intimidation factor but seem to be intended to further the continuity of Berry’s architecture across campus. The bricks are practical and matchy-matchy as well (I realize that is not a real word, but it seemed appropriate for the context) and they denote the drama of the building. Yet, even though the Cage mimics some of the other academic buildings on campus from the outside, its newness is undeniable. It comes across as modern and not for the faint of heart.
Upon walking inside, one is assaulted by the sounds of work out machines, pump-up music, and sports on the television. The color scheme is pretty neutral and earthy, clearly designed to be professional and appealing to all ages and genders. Details like the antique-looking light fixtures, modern furniture, white columns and intricate trim on the windows and check-in desk all lessen the industrialized feel of the tile floor and painted brick walls. But, there is no artwork on the walls, no scholarly articles posted, no decorations or extra flourishes. The intent of the building though is incredibly clear: you come here to work out and be athletic.
The columns strike me as a particularly interesting design feature because of their lack of function. They are not needed to hold the building up but they are prominently placed in the lobby and the entrance and aren’t modern in structure at all but have an old, rounded, Athenian look. While it makes sense for them to be here because other buildings have them, I also think there might be an ulterior motive. For me, columns have a direct relationship with Greek and Roman architecture, which then leads me to ponder the origins of the Olympics and the athleticism that was required for the soldiers. Plus the pop culture phrase “he looks like a Greek god” which conjures up images of sculpted men leaning on such columns. Perhaps these columns in the Cage are supposed to encourage that mindset of furthering/pushing oneself in athletic pursuits. (Or maybe I am reading way too far into this, which is entirely possible.)
As an avid sports fan, I love this building. It is one of my favorite buildings on campus and I remember being impressed by it when I first visited Berry. But at the same time, I see how it could be unimaginably intimidating if you came in and didn’t know how to use the equipment or didn’t like sports. For many, athletics (particularly on a vast scale like NCAA Division 1 or pro) seem foolish, egotistical and a huge waste of money. I have had people ask me before why I bother spending my time on Saturday afternoons in the fall screaming at the TV as I watch a bunch of guys tackle each other and throw a ball made out of pigskin while wearing absurdly tight pants. So, I would imagine that many students would feel the same way about the Cage. If you don’t like sports or follow them, then why would you appreciate a building designed to further those pursuits?
Personally, the Cage makes me excited. I love the possibilities it holds for furthering my own fitness and trying new classes. I love how it serves as a place for fellowship and encouragement as people struggle through the last rep or a tough run. I love how sports can bring people together who would otherwise have nothing in common but are instantly united because they share a passion for the same team. If you love them, sports are compelling…the Cage is clearly and intentionally designed to highlight that. Sports transcend language barriers, age differences, ethnicity and race, and cultural barriers. I saw that firsthand this summer as I watched Americans and Dominicans, ages four to twenty play baseball on a little field in San Pedro even though none of them spoke the same language. Part of why I feel this way is that I grew up in a home with a dad who did news and sports radio for years, who is a passionate Florida Gators fan (as am I), who follows every San Francisco Giants game and always watches the Masters. Thus, he fostered a love of sports in me from the time I could walk. This background creates an obvious bias in the way I perceive the Cage.
I don’t get the impression that many people just come to hang out in the Cage, unless it is centered around something like a ballgame or zumba class. There are classrooms present for KIN courses and the like, but they come across as secondary when compared to the courts, pool, and massive amount of work-out equipment. I also find it interesting that almost every other building on campus is designed to educate and hone the mind, but this building is intended to alter and further the body, the physical part of our existence. Simply because of that difference, the Cage stands out on Berry’s campus.
Getting back to the original point, I have NO question that the architects, builders, and interior designers associated with the Cage were completely intentional in all the choices they made about this building to set it apart as a place dedicated to the world of college athletics and fitness. College is often identified as a place where you can make yourself whatever you want to be and the Cage is just another tangible manifestation of those possibilities.
From the exterior, the library is largely red brick with white accents, such as pillars. The frontal view is dominating (particularly with the trees now gone), as it rests on a rise and stands out against the green backdrop. The classical design, which is something of a cross between Grecian and an old Virginia style, makes the building pleasingly classical. This seems to promote the idea that the library is a place of learning and wisdom. The head of Athena, goddess of wisdom, is just above the doorway into the library, which also emphasizes the building as a place of learning.
Upon entering, the library opens to an impressive space. The dark brick gives it almost an industrial feel: Solid and established, but with a bit of a raw edge. Marble embellishments and arches carry the Grecian feel from outside, and combined make a more finished look. The list of authors across the top of the walls is a nice literary touch, which is reminiscent of the Library of Congress. The high lights, which are in the ceiling rather than hanging, add to the airy feel of this space, as does the reflective tile floor. This space feels massive, both light—from the high ceilings—and weighty—from the dark brick. In some ways, it reflects the massive knowledge to be found further back.
The study section between the entryway and the actual library provides a nice transition. Paneled wood columns, alcoves and archways provide a warmer atmosphere than the brick, while still mirroring the arches and columns. The middle carpeted area also aids the transition from the grand, but rather cold, entry, into a more relaxed study area. The ceiling in this part of the library is several feet lower than in the entry. It has a slight arch in the center which is structurally unnecessary, but continues in the theme of arches. Hanging chandeliers add to the feeling of a smaller space, and their soft yellow light is more welcoming than the extreme white lights above the tiled floors.
The space grows smaller still in the study areas and parts of the library that house the books. The lower ceilings and more generic lighting make the library less impressive, but also help create a feeling of quietness, of study and of being alone—that is, being without distraction. In the very back of the library, the space opens again, preserving a cold and quiet feel with white walls but coupling this with the airiness of a high ceiling.
It could be said that as one moves through the library from the entrance toward the back, the space and colors reflect the anticipated feelings of the student. The entrance is grand and wide, to interest the viewer and draw them further in. The middle space is warm and comfortable, to encourage conversation and relaxed study. The books and study areas toward the back are more quiet, secluded and almost private, with lower ceilings, little embellishment, and carpeted floors. The large windows—with some decorative touches—seem to imply that the world outside can be clearly seen from these rooms, while on a functional level they let in natural light.
For me, the building is largely successful in conveying its message of being a house of wisdom (almost a temple of wisdom), both impressive and quiet. But I also bring with me the biases I carry from having visited many libraries before. I expect libraries to be a closed space and a little dark—which adds to the impressive aspect of the entryway and the first study space, and takes away some of the claustrophobia of going further back.
The Berry Chapel is constructed mostly of brick with wood used as window frames, door ways, and other decorations (mainly the steeple). Since brick is one of the stronger and cheaper building materials, a large part of this building is brick. It is obviously made to last. Berry College was founded on religious principles and it is obvious that the school would want to build a solid church building. Wood is cheap and easy to shape into decorations which gives the building some color and liveliness. Wood is also easy to paint; in this case, most of the wood (including the steeple) is painted white. White has historically symbolized holiness and purity therefor making it a fitting color for the external church decorations.
The chapel was made for students and faculty to worship in. It is located near the central part of campus which allows worshipers to get there easily. It can also function as a meeting place for the student body because of its size and convenient location.
Because Berry was founded on Christian principles, the chapel was built to resemble other Christian faith churches in the area. The red brick and white trim with a huge steeple are very popular on churches in this part of the country.
The location of the chapel is purely functional. Like I said earlier, the chapel is located close to the center of campus so students can easily access it. A contrast to this would be Frost Chapel because it is in a beautiful location on a hill looking up at the mountain but is not in a convenient location for car-less college students looking to worship. The white decorations on the outside of merely for effect. Although they are very pretty and well made, they are not necessary. A drab brick building would work just as well for a house of worship. They are there to spice up the outside and draw people’s attention.
The Berry chapel makes me step back and admire the history of this school. Not many colleges are privileged to have such old and beautiful architecture on their campus. When I stand on the sidewalk in front of it, I get a strange feeling thinking about the generations of people who have walked through those doors.
Being raised a Christian, I have been in many churches similar to this. I have seen many buildings that look almost identical to the Berry Chapel. This style of building is not new to me.
When I look at this building I see uniformity. If you cut the building down the middle, both sides would be almost identical. Also if you look at the sidewalks on the outside, they too are made in a way where they perfectly intersect in front of the chapel. Everything, sidewalks, pews, aisles, etc, lead up to the alter on the stage. Also, towering above everything is the steeple with the cross on top. I get the message that everything in and around this building is centered around the alter. I believe the builders/architects built it this way on purpose.
The obvious intent of the architect who designed the Memorial Library was to portray stability and concentration in its vocabulary. Its brick structure and classic boxlike design state the goal longevity. This building is made to withstand time and weather and the multitude of young adults that will use it. Its colonial design puts off an esteemed essence; one of which demands respect. When one passes those columns and enters the doors, a student is respectful of the purpose of which the building is intended. Another style would not appear as established and respectable for a library compared to the colonial brick that currently stands.
Its functions vary depending upon whom you ask; most use it as a study space or quiet location to do homework. Others come to socialize or enjoy the refreshments of Java City. The window placement is a clever indication of what goes on inside. There is more socialization towards the front of the library where there are larger windows that can be seen through on either side of the glass. However, towards the back of the library where the windows are smaller and sparser, it is far easier to view out than in. This provides a quieter, less distracting study environment.
While they add character and draw attention, the columns basically do only that. The building could have been structured to stand without them. The windows could be for effect or function. They make the library appear to be more open and inviting but are not completely necessary. However they do allow light, which is very functional. The steeple is for looks. It is a beautiful and eye catching addition to the already classy front of the library. The cement ledge cross the top of the front portion is for visual effect. It is not necessary but adds allure and personality to the structure. Small additions like these were about all the architects could do if the goal is to leave the building in its colonial tradition and beauty. This style often depicts clean corners and straight lines; therefore the addition of too many “extras” would undermine the original plan.
This building often makes me feel comforted. The air it puts off is calming and reassuring. I know that if there is a lot I need to get done, the library is where I can go to get away and work. The knowledge of Java City is also comforting to me personally, because of my love for coffee. In addition to my comfort, in the back of my head the library also makes me nervous. It is someplace to stay up late studying and being stressed with my peers over assignments. Our generation is full of procrastinators and the library is full of them in its late night hours. This is the reason it stays open so late.
I feel that the builders (architect) wanted students to feel secure about the library. To know that it is not going to change or go anywhere. It is always here for us as a student body to utilize. They were very intentional with the structure of the Memorial Library.
Although brick may usually be seen as an enduring material, the College Chapel isn’t built with a pretension of strength. Tucked away behind the hustle and bustle of Berry’s academic buildings, the chapel doesn’t have a lot of presence, but is instead a humble structure. It isn’t intended to impress, but rather to provide an outlet for religious expression. In this way, the simplicity of its construction lends insight into the sincerity of its functional intention. The steeple of course is the epitome of this idea, pointing the worshipper directly to heaven without a lot of unnecessary frills.
If the chapel were a sentence, its syntax would be as follows: The subject is You, the verb is Look, and the direct object is God. Nothing about it strikes ones heart with grand notions of human accomplishments (think: the pyramids). This was most likely the desire of Martha Berry and the builders since they were constructing the building in the tradition of Christian worship, which is naturally about God and not man. It is difficult for me to scrutinize the chapel without being overwhelmed by a profound sense of humility and smallness. Its simplicity communicates the seeming insignificance of man in tandem with the relative vastness of God.
I doubt that the chapel’s function limited the architect as much as it did guide him. Certainly, he had to plan for large numbers of students piling into the chapel and listening to someone speak or pray, and since this was before modern audio technology, that meant designing the building with acoustics in mind. However, simplicity was not the primary object of construction, for the crown molding and podium stand, while in no way ornate, are very elegant and well-designed.
Certainly society and culture have influenced me in my interpretation of the building. The same messages that might have been lost on me had I grown up in another country with a different religion, hit home and cause the desired effect. I feel humbled because I have been taught that church is a place of reverence and worship, even though it is merely a building. The college chapel communicates clearly that I myself need to be part of a transaction of words and feelings between me and God.
The first word that came to mind when I considered the Cage Center was ‘Dominating’.
I imagine this is for a number of reasons, one of the most obvious being the sheer scale of the building. It ‘dominates’ the landscape on which it was put, large fields of grass and trees leading up to a steep hill on which the Cage Center rests comfortably like a giant looking down upon ants. The uniform size and color of the bricks give the impression of a no-nonsense and professional man judging your worth and potential as you approach. The flights of steps leading up to the building provide not only the beginning of the entree’s journey into the Cage Center, but represent the beginning of their own first steps toward becoming a better person than they are already. Oh, and the pillars; we can hardly forget those intimidating and towering callbacks to the Greeks and the advent of the Olympics, whose association with the athletic building hardly requires explanation.
The inside is a different world that leads to a different, more personal sense of the word ‘dominate’. Upon entering one is greeted with familiar smells and sounds that can be described to one such as me as nothing short of empowering. A glance around provides the metaphorical forked path, where one now has to choose their preferred road to domination. Shall one go into the machine room and work out with free weights to improve muscle mass and endurance? Maybe one should go upstairs to run on the indoor track and look below to watch others improve themselves as one strives to increase their own cardio. Or maybe the indoor pool would be an agreeable alternative, a love for water and resistance to one’s muscles the most preferred way to improve oneself. These few options among many all lead to the same conclusion: the continued effort toward dominating the physical restraints that are set in your body and improving yourself further than you ever had before.
The design inside is very down to earth and created to emphasize the goal-orientated nature of the building. That is to say that there are no flourishes or grand distractions splashed across the walls, no posters or unnecessary decorations; all that is in place is conducive to those who wish to improve. Uniform colors on the darker, duller scale once again reign supreme and windows in almost every available location provide the opportunity to view what is now the ‘outside’ world with the knowledge that the next time you step foot in it, you will be a better person than you were before entering.
To me personally, the building represents everything I have come to respect. I was on the varsity football team and varsity wrestling team all four years of high school and I spent more time with sports and working out than I did anything else. There was never any lull in activity for me: It was football season, to wrestling season, to football season, and back again until it simply became as natural as breathing. The Cage Center is a call back for me to those years and almost feels like a second home when I see the familiar work out equipment and indoor track, a smile coming to my face unbidden as I lay down on a free weight bench press and my hands grasp the familiar, coarse grip of the bar. My friends who humor my love for working out don’t understand why I enjoy it so much. They shake their heads and laugh when I tell them that knowing I am becoming stronger makes me happy, not in the giddy way, but the content, warm way. They can’t grasp the idea that every few pounds added to a work out and every extra lift made is not done for someone watching, for someone you are seeking to impress, but for yourself.
I believe it is because of my experience that I may appreciate more than most what the Cage Center represents. I can see the value in its architectural design and the worth behind what was certainly a purposeful, functional design to create a place where athletes and those who love to improve have a place to feel alive. My attitude toward life has always been to improve what I already am and to dominate any obstacle that stands in my path; in the most base and physical sense of that attitude, the Cage Center provides the tools necessary to do so.
Great comments. We’re focusing on the exterior, however. You don’t need to discuss or describe the interiors. Thanks!
My examination of the Cage Center was completely focused on its exterior, and what can be gathered from circling the building itself. I think the concept of safari is an interesting one because this made the building, in my mind, a creature– one who could be easily startled off and needed to be observed from afar, in its natural habitat. The Cage’s walls are made of a medium colored brick, similar to that of Berry’s other buildings. Taking it out of the campus context, the material serves to show strength, resilience against natural forces, etc.. but in context, the brick does not seem of particular significance. The molding outlining the windows and large areas of white (not sure what exact material this is?) are a stark contrast. They appear crisp, clean, and professional– professional in a way that conveys the efficiency of the building itself (an ability to achieve the intended purpose– allow students to get a good workout.) The windows on the face of the building are numerous, varying in size and shape. They create a sense of openness and transparency that contradicts the otherwise opaque materials of brick and molding. The concrete steps leading up to the building are not a surprising choice- concrete is an expected building material for walkways, ramps and stairs. These ordinary materials are not what cause the Cage to create such an enormous presence on campus, but rather the way the architects chose to present them. I find the grammar much more fascinating than the building’s vocabulary.
The number one form present in the architecture of the Cage Center, (so obviously unnecessary to its function!!) is the perfect symmetry. The human eye finds symmetry naturally appealing, which is true of faces considered beautiful, body types considered beautiful, etc. It is also true that nature seems to strive for symmetry in its forms– flowers, bee hives, and many other natural structures. The Cage has two ramps, two trash cans outside of its doors, perfectly symmetrical columns, and windows, roof, landscaped bushes, trees, the works! This element was obviously a high priority. The symmetry of it feels comforting somehow. It feels stable, and rational, and capable. As though when i walk up those giant stairs, I am walking into a pair of capable hands. I feel like I should talk more about the symmetry, because it was so overwhelmingly apparent, but I’ll examine something else. The columns, as mentioned, are very Roman or Greek in style. They provoke thoughts of athleticism, competition, and — for lack of a better term– glory. The columns seem to promise a kind of glory that was attained only by the greatest of Roman soldiers and javelin throwers. These columns are purely form, and have no real function. That would strike me as a little pretentious (didn’t the original columns serve an important purpose in holding up structures) but I guess architects need to throw in some intimidating embellishment now and then. The windows, which throw tremendous amounts of light into the Cage, serve to further the form and function of the building. I thought it was interesting that bigger windows run along the bottom of the building, whereas the windows towards the top are smaller, and contribute to the line of the building that moves up to a point (the roof). It could by some stretch of the imagination be said that the broad base and smaller top, on top of the ridiculous amounts of symmetry, seem pyramid-like. Architecture doesn’t get more outrageously intimidating than the pyramids. But that is a stretch. The ramps on either side of the glass doorways (which seem much more inviting than opaque doorways!) open an invitation to people who are unable to climb stairways, which makes the building seem a bit less exclusive and also shows that the architect was aware of the variety of people visiting the Cage.
The only way I can think of that function may have limited the architect is in the grandeur of the stairs– that is, some architect may really have enjoyed a display of eternally long staircases leading up to the Cage. It would have added to the Roman-esque feel, making the gym almost like a temple. It would be perfect on so many levels– you’d be exhausted by the time you got there to workout, survival of the fittest, etc. However, this beautifully long stretch of stairs (for the reasons mentioned above) would not function very well, nor would they be very appreciated by gym-goers. I can imagine a very disappointed architect.
The architect intended the Cage’s structure to convey a sense of stability and strength, concepts which go hand in hand with the use of the building itself. While the overall message is successful, I think that the scale combined with the symmetry and columns created something very intimidating– especially to newcomers. I was extremely intimidated by the Cage when I first arrived at Berry and it wasn’t until mid-sophomore year that I found the guts to actually use the facility. I’m not sure if the architect was fully aware of the INTENSITY of his structure. I am now a happy gym goer, and my viewing of the Cage (when I forget to view it objectively) are biased in a much different direction. Its presence is highly motivating, climbing the stairs gives me a sense of exhilaration, and even the columns seem promising. It all seems to promise success. I suppose part of this personal bias is cultural– the desire for muscle tone and physical perfection, and the absolute worship of symmetry all work nicely towards the structure’s success. It is certainly not a humble facility. it is big, bold, and confident– but our culture embraces those qualities to a fault.
ha! well, Dr. Carroll, I just saw your comment. My introduction feels silly now.
Everything about the library exudes learning, from the bricks used in its construction (connoting durability) to the head of the goddess Athena over the doorway (connoting wisdom). The steps, and the sidewalks leading up to them, are very deliberate and leave no question as to where they lead. Even the placement of the building adds to its almost austere atmosphere: unlike some of the other buildings on Opportunity Drive, the library is not situated close to the road, but further back, with an expansive grassy lawn between it and the road. It has a very no-nonsense feel about it, with quite a square-ish style and pretty classical design. It is obviously not a place to fool around.
Inside, the library is very open, high-ceilinged, and heavily wooden. The openness seems to promote study, as it is less stifling for the mind than a low-ceilinged, crowded/cluttered space would be. The wood, too, is conducive to a more studious atmosphere, because it is durable, but not overly stern, as metal would perhaps be.
I believe the shape of the building itself is very much functional, with a minimum of unnecessary flourishes. This is probably because the purpose of the building is very clear-cut and serious. I almost get the feeling that the architect probably did not feel limited, but rather wanted to build the library this way. It is, after all, a library on a small college campus – no need to dress it up unnecessarily. Just make it comfortable, practical, and durable.
Personally, the library makes me feel quite oppressed, so my outlook on it is probably more negative than the average person. I despise academia and learning in general, to put it bluntly, so I tend to avoid the library like the plague. I had never really thought about this before, but the structure of the building, with its certain austerity, probably does not help my feelings much. However, I will readily admit the the interior is quite functional and comfortable, so when I am indeed forced to enter the building, it is not difficult for me to understand what to do or where to go in order to do it.
From its grassy pedestal, the Berry College library is the picture of architectural poise. Brick and concrete lay at its feet like a red carpet, or like a physical preface to the hard facts that are housed inside. Smooth, marble pillars tower at its front like sentries, but the place itself is stacked and staggered brick. Inside, the lobby feels boundless and open, even though the sky has been replaced by ceiling. Surrounded by the faces of Berry’s past and the names that helped build literature, one feels immediately hushed the moment feet cross threshold, like loud voices or laughter might pierce the hallowed hum that stems from learned minds. Passing through the outer study area is like witnessing mental rest: the solitary computer stations and comfortable chairs and displays of popular books, coupled with the buzz of Java City and by students sharing muffled laughs and whispers that echo in the archways and wooden floors, encourages casual interaction. However, once past that first sign warning students of the “Quiet Zone,” the ambiance is still and structured, with tables and wooden or plastic chairs that permit no long-term lounging. Dozens of bookshelves laden with thousands of books are like lines in a grid; only professionalism and academia exist in this carpeted and considerably blander world.
The furniture, doors, windows, staircases, bookshelves, and possibly even the pillars outside (I’m not an architect; maybe the library would fall down without them) are all necessary to the building in order to serve its purpose. Architectural flourishes include the archways, the high-lit ceilings, the wood-paneled floors and columns, and the alcoves – but even these serve a subconscious purpose, because their presence overwhelms those inside and drives them to be quiet and considerate and driven to learn. But I do not think that building to fulfill the library’s function severely limited the architect in ways that would not occur in any other building – assuming that he did not forget to account for the weight of the books – on the contrary, I think that an architect who is passionate about his work would welcome the opportunity to build something that would in turn house centuries of knowledge and aid in the honing of sharp and eager minds. I think that every grand library such as Berry’s is built to send that message by an inspired and creative architect.
The body of the Berry Chapel is made of mostly medium brown brick, while the steeple, bell tower, and intricately designed molding are made from wood which has been painted white. There are huge arched windows that cover the church on all sides, with the largest being in the back directly behind the pulpit. There are also grey looking stone-like parts that make up the bottom part of the back of the chapel.
The chapel is actually in a cross like shape, which is very appropriate with it being a church. It was built to be tall and majestic looking with a steeple pointing heavenwards. The function of this building is not only to serve as a home for Christians but as a multi-use facility to hold more than a few of the Berry students and their families on different occasions. It was built to add beauty to the campus and serves as a beautiful backdrop for pictures during graduation that takes place in front of it on the steps between Green and the library. The building as a whole has many uses while there are some things about it that are for mere effect. The windows could be seen as beneficial to the lighting in church, however, they are not completely necessary because the lighting available today would be more than sufficient enough to light the whole building. The shape of the building is very unique but works very well because of the amount of people it was made to hold. The pulpit would be surrounded on three sides which would help the sound carry better and all together help the view of the audience.
The molding of the chapel is something I find particularly interesting about the building because it hints at a Gothic style while the rest of the church is of a very traditional and typical style. The windows are notable as well because they remind me of a Roman cathedral. I found it a very interesting combination of architecture styles and it all stitched together quite beautifully. I think the architect chose these different types of styles because they fit very well in with the aesthetics of the campus.
When I walk up to this building I feel very small. I think the builders intended to make it to where anyone walking up to the building would feel small and somewhat vulnerable to remind them of how big God is. I am a Christian which could sway my perception of how they intended me to feel and for what purpose I was meant to feel that way.
Students chatter away as procession music chimes. Faculty members, adorned in flowing robes and velvet caps, which sit in a Picasso-esque manner atop their heads, file into the College Chapel where I am perched upon a wooden pew, anxiously awaiting the start of Convocation.
I glance down at the pew immediately in front of me and notice small chips made into the wood. I was expecting to see students of Berry’s past proclaiming their love to one another in etching. A sure fire way to ensure eternal passion by safely tucking a pair of initials into a heart-shaped lob for the world to see. Noticing none, I moved on to the literature disheveled among the cubbies. Each hymnal and NIV Bible was a hand snatch away from attainment, allowing easy access for students or others seeking guidance. The pages within each book seem worn, but perused over. I picture a favorite blanket of a small child that is relied on for comfort, but kept merely for sentimentality’s sake as the years progress.
Turning my attention back to the humble, yet grandiose interior of the Chapel, I notice the energy of the room. Walls made of brick form the interior, a simple statement that most likely serves as a reference to the students who built it. The columns that run the length of the room lack detailing, but demonstrate a more practical purpose. Even though they are almost imposing in number and placement, they are practically the backbone of the Chapel.
Speaking of backbones, the next stop is the pulpit, where a splash of detailing has been added to the crown molding above the stage and the podium itself supports a large white cross, the coloring of which represents holiness and purity in the Christian faith. White is used extemporaneously around the Chapel, either to represent the purity of the building or because it was an easily accessible color in terms of paint.
This area is slightly raised giving it the appearance of importance and drawing the eye to the preacher or speaker on stage. Seeing as this was during Convocation, members of academia fluttered across the stage to orate inspirational speeches for students as they embark upon a new year of college. The atmosphere was fresh with excitement, peppered with a little boredom of freshmen forced to attend the ceremony with their BCC class.
Overall, the environment is inviting with its high ceilings, reaching, quite literally, to the heavens, and its box seat balconies overlooking the Chapel. An organ sits in the corner, looking haughty and strong. However, cushions lining the pews providing a stronger sense of comfort in a sometimes stiff-feeling environment.
As Dr. Briggs mentioned in his Opening Convocation speech, this is Berry’s 109th year. Quite a tally and quite a building, full of rich history. From the early days when the Chapel was conveniently located directly across from the President’s abode so that he could see the students filing into services on Sunday mornings, to today, when the Chapel is used for worship on Sunday nights and even for nontraditional events such as benefit concerts and opening ceremonies throughout the school year. The College Chapel presents a place for private worship and social gatherings, growing, as Berry does, with every year.
As I walk from the Chapel steps, I glance back at the sturdy brick building where I had just been. The building materials obvious because of accessibility and longevity; similar to the strength of the Christian faith. There is a doe grazing in the foliage and the steeple of the Chapel is reaching high into the brilliant blue sky. Above the door, a quote rests prominently upon the marble; it says, “let there be light.” I am comforted by the simplicity, but also, the power of this small building almost hidden amongst the large shoulders of Memorial Library and Green.
It’s impossible not to notice the Cage Center. Standing boldly in the center of Berry’s main campus, it dwarfs all other buildings in both size and attitude.
From a cut-and-dry look at the Cage Center, one will immediately notice that this behemoth is made of reddish brown brick walls lined with large glassy windows. The small concrete paths that wind toward the Cage Center conjoin at the foot of the building and lead to a wide flight of concrete stairs. At the top of the steps stand six imposing classical pillars, inspired by Greek and Roman architecture, guarding the entrances four small glass doors. Above the pillars, the large front of the building rises up and condenses into a steeple-like feature.
After taking in the entirety of the Cage’s exterior, the effects and motivations behind its multitude of features become apparent to the viewer. The Center is so overwhelmingly large in order to show the world that Berry College is more than just that school in Rome with the cows; Berry is a growing college and the institution can accomplish great things. The combination of the wide steps and powerful pillars is commonly used to create a sense of grandeur and culture. This fits the academic nature of Berry College and its goal to educate and train its students to achieve great things. The choice of red brick for the walls and the addition of many windows make the structure appear more warm and inviting than other building choices would, such as concrete and fewer windows. The steeple adorning the top of the Cage has no practical purpose for students and faculty. However, its upward pointing form and resemblance to church steeples subtly reflects the college’s religious foundation. Since the Cage Center is a hub for student activity, learning, and fitness, it is fitting that its exterior appearance is both impressive and friendly to inspire and welcome its visitors.
I personally was very impressed with the Cage Center when I first visited Berry College, and it still catches my approving eye today. I have always appreciated the architectural accomplishments of mankind, and the Cage’s vast size and sound structure fills me with a sense of awe. This could perhaps be attributed to my nationality and Americans’ appreciation for “bigger and better” things in life.
The words that immediately came to mind when I looked at the library were power and authority. Because there are steps leading up to the building and it’s higher than the others around it, the building gives off a vibe of importance. In continuing to think about the level of the building, because the library is higher up it makes me feel like I should almost revere it or be in awe of it. This is an appropriate architectural design for a library because the height helps reinforce the importance of learning.
Also, the use of columns was very prominent Greek architecture design. Greece was one of the leading knowledge and education centers of its time so it is fitting that the library is built with a similar design.
However, the library isn’t unapproachable because of its important-looking and powerful design. The surrounding old brick paths and landscaping make the library feel like a place that has been used a lot already and helps me feel welcome to enter it.
Inside the library it almost feels like walking into a cathedral with the wide-open lobby and high ceiling that’s visible from the first floor. Again, this adds to the reverence that the architecture inspires.
As to the overall shape of the building, I don’t think the architects took many artistic liberties. It is a practical design that avoids any flourish that’s used only for aesthetic purposes. The practicality of the design is appropriate because the library is first and foremost a place for people to study and learn.
As I walked up the steps and through the automatic glass doors of Memorial Library, I was struck by the contradiction of the design of the library. The outside of the library is made from brick, which communicates strength and solidness. It is also in the shape of the letter T with long, solid lines, once again conveying the strength and resilience of one of the oldest buildings on campus. The goddess Athena adorns the entryway into the library. Athena, a Greek goddess, is known for her wisdom, justice, and nature of war. Above Athena is a large light; many times, light is also symbolic of truth and knowledge. These two identifying objects convey the message that the library is a place of work, knowledge, and truth. As I walked around the library, I noticed that the windows near the front were large, warm and inviting. However, as I progressed near the back, they became smaller, many with the blinds pulled down. The library was added onto as the need for a larger place of study became imperative. The architects did well in choosing a brick that matched the original plan. I did notice that the front of the building looked much more weathered and dirty. The brick outside the front of the library needs a good pressure washing. The front of the building can be intimidating and daunting due to the massive, marble columns and brick steps, leading up to Athena who is looking down on the doorway. However, when I walked in, I found that I was greeting a familiar friend. The library is the hub of academic study, research, and, in some cases, socializing. From the outside, the library casts an impressive presence; it looks as if the building has it all together.
However, when I walked through the entrance, I was greeted with an eclectic and homey atmosphere, which changed as I traversed deeper into the bowels of the library. The front part of library is a conglomeration of brick, shiny tile floor, and wrought iron. And one can never mistake the adornment of famous and inspirational authors bordering the ceiling of the two-story building. As I progressed my safari through the library, I saw an area that has plush, comfy chairs, carpet, large desks, and large windows that open up the area. This part of the library seems to be used for socializing and group study. From the carpet to Java City, the atmosphere screams, “Make yourself at home. Relax. Enjoy.” This area is much more softer and pleasurable, especially with the warm yellow light spilling down from the ornate chandeliers.
Deeper into the library, the tile floor turns to carpet, and the shelves holding thousands of books begin to appear, along with wooden cubicles for solo studying. The walls become more austere, the chairs more uncomfortable, and the overall mood of the library becomes harsher and colder. The back of the library is where the serious studiers go when important work needs to be done with no interruptions. There are massive windows in the back of the library, towering two stories tall. These windows are a happy break from the boring walls in the back of the library. The tone of the library is much more serious and quieter opposed to the more social and inviting area in the front.
The library is a clash of time frames. The front is very reminiscent of colonial times with much brick and white detailing, inside and outside. Athena and the marble columns cast an impressive presence referring back to ancient Greek culture, which was a time of high culture, educational pursuits, and striving towards learning. The social area in the front of the building feels more modern, but with a homey twist, while the austere and back end of the library has a very 1960-1970s retro feel. The library was built onto and expanded as Berry College grew, and the library reflects the passage of time. I feel like I have stepped into history where I can sense the past students of Berry studying, goofing off, and crying over papers and tests.
The library can feel weird at times because it was built for functionality and even added onto when it needed to be expanded for infrastructure. The library’s functionality is in line with its symmetry; both sides of the library seem to be in sync and in balance with each other. To me, the message of the library is very clear. From the typing of computers, to printers spewing out hundreds of warm, freshly inked paper, to frantic students scrambling last minute to finish that essay, or to laughing in big study groups, the library’s message is that of study, work, writing, and reading. The more serious the nature of the work, the more serious the library becomes the deeper one travels.
I love going to Memorial Library. I have spent numerous hours and nights working in it. I feel like I can have it all; I can have the social and talkative studying scene in the front, but I can also get down to business in the more serious back end of the building. I also love books; surrounding myself with famous works that have changed attitudes, caused societal and cultural reform, and impacted society to a high degree, excites me. I feel at home in the library, and it’s a place that I can do my best work. While the library is a little weird and skewed on the inside contrasted to its superior and imposing outside, I feel like the library represents everyone in a way. People seem to have it all together on the outside, but on the inside people can be a mishmash of different likes and interests. As the author Neil Gaiman once said, “Everybody has a secret world inside of them. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they’ve all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds.”
At the center of Berry’s campus stands its strongest building, The Cage Center. Home of the varsity athletic teams, the Cage holds its ground as being the most foreboding of the buildings on campus. The bricks, which the building is made of, are a reminder of strength and solidity. The mass of windows opens the building up, making its stature a little more friendly and inviting. The cement steps at the front of the building add to the grand stature, putting the building higher than the viewer, making it seem more daunting.
The size of the building is overwhelming and beautiful. The symmetry and order make it more appealing to the eye. The large body of the Cage serves to remind the campus of the strength of the school and that the Vikings are a force to be reckoned with. For visiting varsity teams, the Cage can be an overpowering building; it can make them feel welcome because of the light provided by the windows, but also small because of the sheer size and structure of the building. The structured form also gives an idea of what the athletic teams at Berry are all about. It almost has a militaristic feel, which is a reminder of strength and hard work. The building functions as the arena for varsity athletics, a workout facility, and a place to have fun and relax with friends. The structure of the building speaks to all of these functions through the size, windows, and organized structure.
The Roman and Greek architecture reminds a visitor of power. It sends out that message of strength and solidity. It is not decorative as it serves a very specific purpose. The size of the building is merely for effect; the high ceilings open the building up but also strengthen the feeling in the building. The function of the building limited the architect in what they could do to make it artistically beautiful, as it is a very plain, symmetrical building.
To me the Cage has become home. It makes me feel welcome because of the great windows, but also emboldened because of the solidity the building has. Being an athlete, I spend a lot of time there, but my first experience was overwhelming. I imagine for a visiting athlete it would be a distraction to actually playing in the game and even make me a little more fearful of the home team. If the home team was a strong and solid as the building seemed to be, I would feel very inferior. I think that the builders intended for the Cage to be this way; to feel like home to someone who was used to the building, but to seem a little scary to someone who might not be as familiar. IT is very functional and usable, but everything about it, including the amount of workout machines, the large staircases, even the number of paths leading to the building, is overwhelming. The Cage is an impressive building that speaks strength and structure to users.
The Berry Chapel is an average sized, yet sturdy looking building that is composed mostly of brick, with wood accenting the window panes and around the doorways. Although the building seems to have been built with a very sensible approach, without any ornate accents or outer decorations, it has a simplistic beauty to it. There are several windows, lining both sides of the building, which seem to have both functional and decorative purposes. The windows allow for natural sunlight to fill the sanctuary and warm up the inside décor of the church and lets people inside the chapel enjoy the natural beauty that surrounds the building.
The chapel was built for the purpose of students of Berry and its staff to gather and worship in. The style of the building is very basic, which gives the effect that the builders wanted the focus to be more on the purpose of the building, than on the superficial outer appearance of the chapel. Despite the simplicity of the design of the chapel, it is not boring . Instead it comes off as unassuming and peaceful, like a place someone would go to clear their head.
Even walking around the chapel, has a calming effect. Surrounded by Berry’s beautiful trees, I imagine that Martha Berry picked the location of the chapel so that her students and staff could have a place to go worship, and fellowship.
One main aspect Memorial Library struck me. It is ornate in its simplicity. When first looking at the building it appears plain. After all, it is made of mostly brick with marble accents and windows where they need be but no more often. The building is comprised of what appears to be 4 rectangles, which is easily the most boring shape in existence.
Little things, however, begin to appear as one looks closer. Each of these boring shapes most likely represents a stage in the building’s life, giving it a natural growth as if it were alive. Also, while it may not be exiting, the rectangle does offer the most space for storing books simply because books are rectangular themselves. If the walls of the library were curved to form a circle then there would be wasted space simply because of how the rectangle interacts with the circle in general as neither shape can fill the other.
These rectangles then come together to form a T-shape, giving the building a little more rhetorical flare than a simple square. More flourishes are found in the marble that comprises the columns at the entrance and trim that encompasses the building. The use of this naturally ornate stone is completely unnecessary in terms of grammar, but it makes the building more appealing to the eye.
The building itself seems to have a Roman air to it, particularly “basilican” (if I can make up a word). Between the columns and the brick, the library is rather Romanesque. But it is the arches over the windows that sell this feel, especially in the rear of the building, facing the chapel, where the arches extend from the windows by several feet.
Another flare to the building is not actually on any part of the walled structure but is connected to the entrance; and that is the landing. Looking at the ground one sees an interesting pattern if brick in the concrete. The design flare serves to purposes, to further accentuate the entrance and to complete basilica design by providing an apse (albeit without the dome).
Finally, I think the single feature that stands out the most and is the most responsible for conveying any message is the entrance of the building. Not only is that the location of the landing and the highest concentration of marble (which visually sticks out), but it is where the door is located. And this area can be views in two parts. There is the physical door and there is the eave and soffit that hangs over the door. What is so important about the eave and soffit is that it both emphasizes the location of the physical point of entrance and makes it appear larger. As stated, the actual entrance is only a small door, but the entrance as a whole (everything between the front wall and the columns) is much larger and much more inviting. It must to be inviting if people are to enter but because of its aforementioned basilican nature, it is obviously not a place of recreation but of work and learning.
As seen from the outside, the bricks of the College Chapel are a deep, darker hue of red. There is a set of stairs that leads up to the front door of the chapel; these start out quite wide, and are less and less wide upon ascent until they meet the last. The door is flanked by two columns that are not fully separated from the brick. These rise high above the door and are met by an arch at their highest. The floor of the entryway is of laid brick, and gives way to an expanse of cushy red carpet that continues down the aisle and all the way to the pulpit, up a couple of stairs, and then covers the rest of the stage. The long wooden pews situated on either side of the aisle rest on the same color wood floor. Just beyond the pews are rows of columns that follow the right and left walls. These extend all the way from the floor to the ceiling, which then rises to form an impressive continuous arch over the room. There are also areas of seating that jut out of the main room to the right and left, that continue to a balcony above each.
The style of the architecture seems to be very classic; the columns remind me of how an ancient temple might have appeared, were the walls not there. The windows that line the walls on either have been a feature in churches since Romanesque architecture. Although these features are prominent, it is consistent with the style of many traditional American chapels and churches. The style picks up on important features of periods of ancient architecture that have lasted through the ages, as incorporated into the schema of a traditional chapel in our own culture’s standards.
Columns are used in more than one place. The first, being outside around the front door, their use is solely for decorative purposes as they are attached to the brick wall and do not bear any load. I am not as certain about the columns on the interior of the chapel; they may not have a significant role in the foundation of the building as a whole, but they might be of importance for the support of the high arched ceiling. The architect might have chosen brick as the building material for its solidity for the practical reason, but he might also have attempting to communicate the sturdiness and surety of the church’s foundation in a Biblical sense. The high arched ceiling is not as functional. It brings one to look upward, towards the heavens; it could be for the effect of endlessness above.
There is an absolute sense of reverence that seems to be held within the chapel that is always be present, no matter the occasion. It feels even more so when here alone. All of these features culminate forming the environment of the building, which becomes solid and unchanging, steeped in history and tradition, holy and reverent.
Safari: Cage
The entrance of the Cage with its large platform of stairs, towering rooftops, and giant stone columns that border the entrance of the building all serve to shout a message of power to all who pass.
The Cage provides a place for exercise and after walking down the seemingly endless concrete pathway, climbing the three sets of stairs, and approaching the dwarfing stone columns, it seems as if you have already begun your exercise.
The giant set of stairs places the entrance on a kind of pedestal that raises the building higher than any surrounding structure. Atop the stairs, the enormous columns hold high a massive roof containing a pediment with the engraved words “The Cage Center”. These architectural qualities all recall the style of Ancient Greece which was one of the most powerful and influential civilizations of all time, evidenced by their architectural works such as the Parthenon which holds many striking similarities to the entrance of the Cage. I think this style was chosen because of the power and strength that it portrays, which is what people hope to gain by going to the Cage.
For architectural purposes, the giant columns hold up the massive roof. However, the size of the building is merely for effect.
The Cage makes me feel empowered and ready to exercise. As soon as I walk in, I am hit with a breeze of cool air and ESPN highlights playing on the televisions to my right. I hear the sounds of cardio machines and weights clinking together and I know I am in a place of fitness.
I have been very active my entire life through athletic teams, so I may be biased in my liking of the cage because working out is such a common routine in my life and I enjoy it more so than most people.
I think the message being received is very choreographed because of how massive the cage center is compared to its neighboring buildings of Krannert and Moon. The building obviously stands out to people and its raised position on a pedestal of stairs shouts out a message of dominance, power, and strength. This message of power and sturdiness definitely correlates with exercising and building physical strength in the Cage.
Timestamp check.
The cage is made with newer materials. It looks freshly made. The cage’s function is a place that is specifically made for athletics and working out. The cage is made to fit in with the rest of Berry but it looks new. The cage is a huge structure which brings attention that the building is important. The size is the rhetoric and what it holds is the function.
The building makes me feel strong and happy because I’m around equipment that I comfortable with. I have a bias because I like weights while others would hate coming in here if they do not. I think that the building definitely has a message to it. The building is tall and wide and looks power so it holds powerful equipment.