Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: the Fractured Spaces of Edmonton by MM
12:29 PM March 4, 2015
Weather: 0°C, Slightly overcast with a light wind

I am a person that is always late. No matter the scenario, it is almost guaranteed that I will never be on time (let alone early). Thus, it was no surprise when I missed my connection at the South Campus Transit Centre and remained stranded until the next bus arrived. On this occasion, I decided to walk around the terminal area instead of waiting at my designated locale. It was through my walking that I came across this piece of graffiti of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

This graffiti mirrors characteristics of the carving, Fractured Bookworm. Designed with the intent to reflect pre-Columbian Mesoamerican and Eurasian concepts regarding balance, Fractured Bookworm marshals balance and responds to force. The carving spins when nudged with the appropriate amount of force, but will topple over if too much is applied. Likewise, the natural scar on the face of the carving illustrates the balance of two halves. These characteristics are reminiscent of author Robert Louis Stevenson’s characters Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde testify to the struggle between good and evil, as well as conformity and rebellion confronting humanity. In this instance, Dr. Jekyll represents the law-abiding citizen while Mr. Hyde acts as his rebellious alter ego. As individuals living within urban society, we can relate to the characters’ needs to balance society’s expectations with our innate desire to rebel. I find it particularly interesting that this symbol of the fractured person (caught between two truths/compulsions) is depicted through graffiti to serve as a larger commentary on the power of space as a major fissure defining and dividing society.

Space reflects the power dynamics of institutions and attempts to regulate the behaviour of individuals. As scholar Michel Foucault asserts, however, architecture cannot determine human interaction or dictate how people will use a space. Although a building might be designed to elicit specific reactions, there are fractures and fissures that allow for subversive behaviour. Likewise, the bus terminal, designed for people to wait in designated areas for specific bus numbers, displays its fractures of dominant ideals of order and beauty challenged through the graffiti.

Graffiti is an expression of a unique type of style: the style of subcultures. Although the medium may be used by various subcultures, it demonstrates a common ideal or means to challenge hegemonic culture. Scholar Dick Hedbige proclaims that subcultures subvert mundane objects to interrupt the process of normalization. In this case, a power box is repurposed by the graffiti artist to provide a commentary on society within the context of a struggle between good and evil. In contrast, Fractured Bookworm embraces the appropriation of a mundane object (a rock from the Edmonton River Valley) for the purpose of expressing notions of “cosmic bundling and stacking”—as perceived in the fractures and fissures observable on its exterior. And yet, Fractured Bookworm also illustrates the balance needed to survive in Edmonton found somewhere between the apparent need to obeying institutionalized structure to function in society and acts of rebellion frequently required to assert agency and style. We are all Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but how will you choose to act in society?

Gendered Spaces and Limiting Difference by A.C.

This photo of an “open concept” male washroom was taken on March 16, 2015 at 12:42pm at the intersection of 82 Avenue (Whyte Ave) and Gateway Boulevard in Old Strathcona, Edmonton. It was a bright and sunny day although it was 6° Celsius with a cool breeze. I chose this location because it was a place that combined my academic studies throughout my 2014-2015 school year. My picture was applicable to the story of our group carving, Fractured Bookworm and intersected with our reading of Michel Foucault and my own personal interest in the work of Judith Butler. When recalling the courses that I have taken this year, I realize that they can be categorized into cultural studies, gender, and politics. I picked the male washroom because I have noticed this open concept bathroom on Whyte Avenue many times while I have used the female bathroom once. I think the venue is ideal for marshaling natural light and urban architecture within a clear gender-specific narrative. I learned throughout my studies this year that gender has been constructed within a patriarchal view in Western society. Gender binaries are constricting and do not acknowledge equality for difference within our society. Male or female gender is reflected not only in public bathrooms but also found within government policies, including tax laws, which are quite constricting for transgender, queer or non-nuclear families.

I realize how interdisciplinary and interconnected my studies are when I reflect upon my school year. Politics connects to gender narratives and constructs as well as cultural studies once situated in Western societies and values in particular. For me, Foucault work was important for understanding how spaces have been constructed with a purpose. Following Foucault, I think it is important that public spaces need to be to be inclusive rather than non-inclusive, hence explaining why I chose a bathroom to illustrate the way difference is gendered. Meanwhile, the work of Butler was truly a theoretical inspiration to me for this project, especially with respect to the way gender constricts and restricts people. There are many individuals within our world that do not align their lives with their biological sex and choose to identify differently. My picture showing an open male bathroom in the background really speaks to Butler’s idea of gender as a social construct, and, invariably, culturally accepted. I think it is important that we all view what it means to be a male or female very differently, and everyone should give support for equal rights for transgender, queer and non-gendered people within our society.

Spaces in the Classroom By S.B.

This picture was taken in a classroom in the Humanities Department at 4:30 PM on March 25th, 2015. The temperature at the time the photo was taken was 0 degrees Celsius. The Homeglen School of One considers Pre-Columbian American, Byzantine and Eurasian notions of physical balance and architecture of light, and incorporates these factors in the carving. The carving can be carefully spun, but the exertion of too much force or power while spinning it will cause it to topple over, producing an unhappy result. This notion of force and power can be related to Foucault’s essay, “Space Power and Knowledge”, where Foucault looks at the ways in which disciplinary institutions can exert power over human life practices. Following the discussion of Foucault, professor O.C.’s class presentation considered the way that space is designed for those who are in control. The structure of the classroom takes on this role to enable the professor to have control over the students. This classroom in the picture brings back the memory of my first semester, when I took an English class with a professor who played a role that was crucial to my university experience. This professor acted as a mediator between class discussions and encouraged students to participate in critical thinking. Our ideas were valued, and, as a collective body of students, we learned how to become actively engaged.

While classes can become repetitive and bland when instructors do not allow for these discussions amongst the class, with a balance of instructing and urging class discussions, it can result in an unforgettable experience for many students and instructors alike. This classroom does not have windows and only contains fluorescent light. However, when the hallways were quiet during class hours, the professor would open the doors, allowing for the natural light from the large windows in the hall to illuminate the classroom, resulting in a calming and natural space. Together, the carving and the natural light that enters the classroom when the doors are left open are reminiscent of the beauty of Rossdale and the North Saskatchewan River, the area in which this carving was first conceived. I interpreted the notion behind The Fractured Bookworm as follows: every student has different experiences depending on the way they are taught in the classroom, and when power is used in the right way, it can lead to unforgettable memories.

An Overworked Bookworm by A.Ch.

It was a regular brisk morning in Edmonton, Canada. At 8:35 in the morning, the temperature outside was a low of – 5° with a high of 3° Celsius. Inside, students enjoyed a cozy 19 to 21° Celsius. A.C. arrived at school early to take this photo on Tuesday, February 24, 2015. A Ch specifically chose this space for the picture because it represented, perfectly, a mixture of an “analogical persona of an everyday student” with Michel Foucault’s assertions regarding the way an architect designs a space as well as his views regarding the relationship between the architect and the individuals who use a space. Furthermore, the way A.Ch. attached personal meaning to the sculpture demonstrates Foucault’s perspective that the architect, (or artist), does not control the meaning or use of a space.

When the picture of the Fractured Bookworm was taken, A.Ch. giggled too because of the seemingly unimpressed expression carved into the surface of the rock. A.Ch. noted the symbolic representation of the name, The Fractured Bookworm, especially with respect to the frustrations and struggles that are frequently encountered within the pursuit of knowledge. Inadvertently, A.C. had created an allegoric persona of the sculpture of An Overworked Bookworm with her understanding of the experience of an average student from the University of Alberta.

A.Ch. noted that the carving would spin perfectly (if gently pushed). However, it seemed symbolic that if pushed too hard the unimpressed expression on the sculpture would become seemingly stern, if not erect. Die A.Ch., this seemed to represent how students become so unhappy if you push them too hard. A.Ch. also examined the fissures and natural colours wrapping the sculpture and how they almost appeared to orbit the rocks surface. The fissures seemed to indicate the different paths that each student takes throughout their lifetime. Each “orbiting pathway” is different, but they intersect in multiple places and different spaces. Whereas a bank of a river valley accumulated individual rocks over thousands of years, the pedway was space where the paths of individual students generally intersected on campus.

The architect of this pedway is similar to the artist of the sculpture because they both used a functional design that encompassed multiple meanings. The use of a bench invites tired and stressed students to sit down and relax, much like the riverbank accumulates individual rocks. The windows used in the pedway make the space appear larger and allow for natural lighting in order to reduce the costs of electricity. The architect strategically placed this bench in an area where many individual, overworked students’ orbits came to rest, not to mention a convenient seating area with a relaxing view to help unwind.

The Other Ledge by S.R.
March 30th, 11:45 am, ten days after the spring solstice.
The time when light once more overtakes the dark, a time that here in Alberta I eagerly await each year.
A time that is not often accompanied by weather that most would classify as "springish", but this year has happened to be an exception.

This is one of my favourite places in the city. It is a ledge overlooking part of Whitemud Creek South, just a slight trek off the main path provided by the city. The weather was a warm 10° Celsius and mostly clear, sunny with just a few clouds — nice enough for only a light spring jacket. It was great weather for this time of year, and taking this photo was a lovely excuse to be outside. It was a slightly treacherous trip to get there, as the downhill path was packed with two inches of ice making it slick with melting water. In a manner very-fitting with our group theme and contested space, I actually had to head up into the woods and cut through someone's backyard to get back to the main road since I could not manage to walk back up the path.

This photo was influenced by a reading of Foucault and de Certeau's concepts of space and authority. The location is not part of an official path, but, instead is at least a one minute journey from one the trails constructed by the City of Edmonton. Even though The City has redesigned the ravine to be traversed through such official trails and pathways, but people choose to use the space how they please. For me, the unofficial route and the specific venue represent a “second poetic geography” of my own creation, also fashioned by other people, where often I find myself alone. I still share a connection with the people who hiked this unsanctioned spot before me, and who also continue to use it in the future. In the sixty seconds it takes to veer off the designated path to get here, one's viewpoint is transformed from “the walker” to “the voyeur”, a transition from a limited, constrained view from an official path lined with trees to a panoramic, unofficial view from above, looking down upon the seemingly contradictory designs laid out by both the creek and The City. Meanwhile, the bridge found in a moment’s notice of the hazy background of this unofficial perspective is about five more minutes of additional travel on the official path.