Boston Society of Landscape Architects Spring Fieldbook Volume 14.1 | Page 28

Student Essay / Boston Architectural College Play i n g N i cely To g et h e r Erica Quigley spillways to manage stormwater and increase plant and animal biodiversity. They addressed cultural history by using Olmstedian design concepts. Perhaps most importantly for the future of the site, they created a memorable place that will ignite a powerful sense of nostalgia in tomorrow’s alums. Since my decision nearly two years ago to study landscape architecture, I’ve been gathering information about the field from practitioners, instructors, and publications. The overwhelming message is that things have changed dramatically in the last 15-20 years. What’s changed, and how is the Boston Architectural College addressing those changes? I’ll share my perspective as a second semester Master’s student. The landscape architects and designers I’ve spoken with convey their satisfaction with creating beautiful places, but they also speak of the current focus on designing landscapes that perform multiple functions for people and nature. I was fortunate to attend the Natural Learning Initiative’s 2012 Design Institute, where Robin Moore and Nilda Cosco presented spaces that simultaneously work as playgrounds, classrooms, urban gathering spaces, art exhibits, and habitats. After reading James Corner’s essay “Terra Fluxus” in my Design Theory and Inquiry course, I chose to write a paper relating Corner’s ideas to Wellesley College’s Alumnae Valley Restoration (Michael Van Valkenburgh Associates, 2001-05). As a Wellesley alum from the 20th Century, I knew Alumnae Valley as Service Lot, an asphalt wasteland that performed one function: car storage. While the rest of Wellesley’s landscape was a significant factor in my choice to attend in the first place, it can’t be denied that the College followed the 20th Century trend of putting cars first. Although I had been aware of the Alumnae Valley Restoration and had walked through it, it wasn’t until the paper assignment that I realized how well the landscape accounts for complexity and change. After dealing with the toxic soil and groundwater left over from industrial activity, the designers created wetlands, swales, and 26 BSLA Wellesley taught me to research and write papers, so I was surprised when my Design Theory paper draft came back covered in red ink. In that course, as in every other BAC course, I’ve been required to represent my ideas graphically, using both analog and digital techniques. Those I’ve talked to in the field remark again and again that today’s landscape designers must not only be proficient at both hand drawing and computer graphics, but must know which tool or combination of tools best communicates their design intention. Once I had created sections, diagrams, maps, and photo sequences that conveyed my paper’s thesis, I found less red ink and a better understanding of how to express my ideas visually. Design Theory, like the majority of my courses so far, included students of architecture, interior design, and landscape architecture. Practitioners and publications give me a sense that the design field has evolved to value each discipline more equally than in the past. This evolution has been reflected in the BAC’s Transdisciplinary Studio, where our final project was to create an urban sculpture gallery with both indoor and outdoor areas. The assignment allowed students f ɽ