A colleague from another country, unfazed at my frenetic pursuit of applying some concept into a place where it just was not destined to fit, said to me: “Ideas are travelers. Entertain them while they’re with you.” Unbuilt work sometimes feels like these travelers; your brief moments together having brought something alive, more than memories, more like a story or a tune that you will someday revisit. Ideas that visited me during this particular design investigation have revisited me and have been planted into other ideas and have grown into something new.
This project was for an apartment community on the Chattahoochee River outside of Atlanta, a city founded at the confluence of rail lines, where the shallow river was not important for transport; the river skirted several miles outside the nexus of the young city. But anonymous apartments are built anywhere. They can be seen as a commodity and little else if not given more to do. This one would create value through Design-thinking, through Placemaking. Through Architecture.
This project would connect to the river and reclaim the area’s agricultural-industrial uses, pivoting to residents who would feel its acknowledging the spirit of a real place. They would be environmentally conscious. They’d be ecologically aware. Use community gardens. They’d wear Patagonia and know where to find anything at REI. They’d strive to lead authentic lives! By that I mean that their choice of where they lived would be meaningful to how they saw themselves, and perhaps the selves they wanted to be. They’d expect sustainability and green design to fold into their surroundings: more than recycling, they would choose to live where design signifies their lifestyle. Their cars have racks for kayaks and mountain bikes. Their clubhouse would have a boat launch and a bike shop and car charging stations. They’d be Green Southern in this modern South.
I daydreamed about the architecture that these fun, altruistic residents would inhabit: Modern barns, full of bright lofts and studios, sheathed in a nod to the agri-industrial context with clean metal siding. Quirky units with storage for their active lifestyles. Parking lots that resembled groves of trees. A pedestrian spine connecting the buildings to the boat launch. A strong, uncompromising, confident architecture. Familiar and new.
With all of these images, you can get a sense of me chasing an idea, following through on many scales (the site, the building, the unit, the room) and churning through a process that always tried to hold true to the authenticity and vision of the community.
Design doesn’t happen all by itself. Especially architecture. It’s inspired by context and people and materials. This particular project was never built. Perhaps it was market conditions, or construction costs, or bad timing. Their focus certainly moved to city centers and not re-imagined peripheries. I don’t think it was because the residents I envisioned wanting to live here didn’t exist. Adjacent to this site now sits an anonymous, off-white apartment project, built by a different developer. A missed opportunity to use design in a more personal, life-affirming way. But what I learned in my brief studies for this riverside site stayed with me. They became ideas that would travel well.