[re]constructed ground
articulated landscape
chicago. il
2010
This fragment of constructed ground concretizes the mechanisms of growth responsible for Chicago’s role as a world-class city – it represents a moment in the history of the expansion of the shoreline. It exists at the threshold between man-made and natural, a blurred boundary. Two elements, water and fire, are the catalysts responsible for this state of flux - at times constructive, at times destructive. While Chicago’s rapid economic and thus physical growth is of course tied to its geographic position on the shores of Lake Michigan at the mouth of the Chicago River, growth was also instigated as a result of The Great Chicago Fire of 1871. The palimpsest of physical and cultural history latent on this site can be revealed through the manipulation of these substances: ground, water, and fire.

“One cannot dream profoundly with objects. To dream profoundly, one must dream with substances.”- Gaston Bachelard, Water and Dreams

Through the mechanisms of fragmenting and folding, the artificial ground is reconstructed, recoiling from Lake Michigan. This articulated ground provides spaces of varied scales for activity, orientations to various views, and the reintroduction of water to the site.
Chicago is called into question, as grass surfaces rise and fall, becoming nearly vertical as they approach Lake Shore Drive. Translucent planes hover slightly above the original ground plane, revealing the pre-existing conditions and providing horizontal and vertical circulation. These folds act in service of engaging the visitor with both their cultural and temporal context and their own subconscious. This [re] constructed ground is a place for reflecting and dreaming. Experiencing the site and looking back to the city, one can perceive multiple horizons and layers of history. The panoptic fold, rising over Lake Shore Drive, serves as a place for dreaming: with views of the Lake and a single horizon, a silence is created that permits subconscious oneiric thoughts to surface.
“Where a lamp once reigned, now reigns memory.” - Gaston Bachelard, The Flame of a Candle
Two moments of fire mark instances of light that register past and future – the long-vanished lighthouse and the unbuilt spire. The verticality of a flame reflects that of the physicality of the spire and the ephemerality of imagination. The void, once meant to be filled by foundations for the spire, now becomes a crucible for dreams.