All Posts By:aasakiewicz

Nasher Sculpture Center –  Urban Oasis (2003)

You sense the birds. You hear the bubbling water. You can almost feel the dew still on the grass. And as you pass down each path, you inhabit the space of the sculpture. One by one you peer at them, around them, through them. Then they start to blend and morph as they interact with their neighbor. Up until the moment a small boy almost fell into the fountain, it was quite possibly the most peaceful break I have ever experienced in a bustling city. And even the fact that this kind of oasis could be in the middle of a city blows my mind a little bit.

Texas has its fair share of urban oasi (and yes I’m just going to treat that as a plural oasis- whether or not it is). We’ve seen them before. Remember, Johnson’s Fort Worth Water gardens? That one is an oasis of water and cement. This is an oasis of sculpture and trees.

Old North Church / Christ Church – Fake News (1723-1745)

On my parent’s most recent visit we strolled along the Freedom Trail in search of pastries. (This is a pretty common occurrence if you come visit me; take note potential visitors). Turns out the freedom trail is great for those in search of sugar. At some point, we ended up in Old North Church and stumbled upon a fascinating display extolling the inaccuracies of the church’s perceived history.

And because fake news is ever present on our minds (or at least mine), it’s presence on the political scene as early as the Civil War and likely earlier stuck with me.

Blue Mosque – Teenage Dream (1609-1616)  

Pride. It comes up a lot in architecture. We see it often when looking at buildings commissioned by kings and emperors; but don’t rule out the pride that goes into your neighbor’s renovations either. In a large part, the built environment stands because someone wanted to show off. And in that sense, the Blue Mosque (officially called Sultan Ahmed Mosque) is no different.

In fact, it’s that very concept on steroids.

From Where I Sit – Week 15

If I was sitting across from you right now,  I would tell you that “Honor the space between no longer and not yet,” (Nancy Levin) has been resonating a lot with me lately. In the most basic terms, it’s the weather. It is no longer dark winter, but spring hasn’t quite fully arrived either. In the most complicated terms, it is life. I am no longer the person I once was. I am not yet the person I will be. Although, those statements are easy to type, they are hard to wrap your head around. I would tell you, that if we are being honest with ourselves, we will never really be that final person. Not because we won’t change, but because we won’t stop.

Harvard Football Stadium – Concrete Sport (1903)

The idea of unfinished. Daily, as contractors continue building our latest construction, I think about this never-arriving state of done. When the last walls are painted and students fill the stands, it probably still won’t feel finished. Outside of work, I also stand somewhat stranded in this almost done state of conquering the Architectural Registration Exam.  But I know that even once this task is finished there will be a new one to conquer. Even the whole subject of this blog, history, is not done. History continues to march on. So take a walk with me.

When my parents visited Boston this weekend, we wandered over to the Harvard Football Stadium to remember the past. Although I can’t be sure, I would like to think that my grandfather once stood in one of the many spots I did. Maybe he entered that football field in the same way, maybe someone once sat on the same seat and watched him score from this exact vantage point. Rather luckily, at least to my imagining mind, the stadium is largely unchanged. I stood in utter amazement at the lack of guardrails in the entire stadium, and felt as if it could have been decades prior.