Walking into downtown Syracuse, a bleak and gray image presents itself. An active city in theory, it remains a set of isolated buildings and institutions barely kept together by its people, many of which remain isolated as well. Walking northwards on State Street, you pass the dreary social housing to your right and the Oncenter Convention Center up ahead to your left, seemingly unused. Further to the right stands a large parking garage, developing the concrete city center of large looming masses. Through those buildings emerges the War Memorial Center, and bit by bit, a reflective surface of water starts to emerge. Slowly, the image of the Everson Museum of Art begins to appear, behind which loom three massive concrete blocks, all of which have water flowing down the walls. The Everson remains clean and dry, a beautiful island within a sea of concrete and water. Drawn to this you approach the Everson and a boat appears on the edge of the water. Getting on, you traverse the distance and come to stand within the Everson. Descending the staircase to the extended galleries, you see an opening, through which blue light emanates. You go down the stairs and enter the opening, greeted by a large room, full of colour and shapes, animals and balloons floating around. People walk around and chatter, comfortable and happy. Distracted. You stand at the top of the ramp and descend, entering this new space, that emanates light and colour. Through the curved walls of this new space, you see green and blue, swimming fish and algae, a whole world thriving on its own. You move through the space, past adults and children, flora and fauna. Closer to the tightening of the space, a smaller opening leading to four different pathways. You choose to move forward and begin to ascend, the ground sloping upward to greet the light that shines brighter and brighter. The blue disappears and walls surround you. Walls within a facade of curves and colours. Pathways up, left and right surround you, with people sitting, eating, and laughing all around the space. You decide to continue on and move down the slope of the building, as you once more sink back down into the underwater world that so greatly contrasts Syracuse itself.
You are the Fish
Compromising of three primary components, the project becomes an antithesis, in experiencing the monumentalism from the inside, instead of seeing it from the outside. An out of this world experience only able to be seen when inside the space. Through the first component, water, the project isolates itself from the city of Syracuse, becoming its own entity. The concrete walls that encase the above-ground institutions, become the second component, further isolating the institutions that lay within its walls, and supporting and machining the organism that is created. Thirdly, and most importantly, the form that remains hidden, weaving through the water and the concrete, connecting and providing a new angle at which to view the above world.