The central branch of the Seattle Library serves as a model of the modern civic building- offering a wealth of print and digital material to the public, and doing so with never before seen sensibility and insight. In addition to aptly serving the public, it also functions as an architectural focal point of a highly literate metropolis, while housing an ever-changing institution. The abstract form of the building is stunning- both in how its innovation is realized- and also in how rational it is.
A library, in terms of the brick and mortar facility and organizational body and itself, will face change constantly. A library is a very active and demanding building, and while no building is ever truly completed, the rate at which a library changes outpaces most buildings. Library spaces should be flexible, they must be built to accommodate change in order to age successfully. The Seattle Library takes that change into account in its design, and with great results. Rather than the traditional “stacks,” seen in most libraries; the Central Library is organized around a continuous “spiral” floor system; collections are thus not limited to the linear space on a given floor. Collections may grow or shrink over time, as their need for shelf space will undoubtedly vary. The book spiral, with its sometimes odd side effects, solves one of the greatest challenges facing this type of building. The storage function of this library was conceived on the axioms of re-organization, adaptability, and expansion; the resulting form is malleable and rational. The outcome is a building that is nearly self-aware.
But the library is more than just a large spiral full of books. Beneath the spiral on the lower floors are grand public gathering spaces and vaulted rooms. A steady uptake of visitors keeps the many parts in motion, and the very design of the library keeps this movement of people efficient. Sleek neon green escalators carry visitors skyward, adding a loud spike of color into the expanse of whispers and steel. Pieces of art pepper walls and fill bareness, the color red boldly dances alone in a heart shaped chamber. Tunnels and shortcuts though the building’s interior core make navigation though the spiral easier. A glass walled reading room crowns the building on its tenth floor. From an observation point, a feast for the eyes. Through the thick diamond shaped windows, a city makes its grand statement. Skyscrapers encircle the library, the fog of noise rising from streets below is hushed by the thick, cold glass. Blocks down the hill is Elliott Bay, the source of the city’s very life. Through the windows above is the sky. Below you, the sum of all human knowledge.
Housed in this library are books. Housed in the books are ideas and beliefs- a war of words. And here they sit; side by side, row by row, perfectly organized, and somehow getting along. All these books and all these recorded ideas add up to a monument of populism- mankind’s greatest gestures are here, waiting to be shared. If nothing else, the library tries to inject this logic and order into the complex ball of yarn that is our history and knowledge. The best architects and the best buildings cannot solve mankind’s great differences. But as seen at this library, they can at least bring compromise and harmony into a place of chaos.
Entrance, East Entry, 5th Ave.
Revolving doors are installed on buildings for good reason; they keep the building sealed, prevent fluctuations in air flow, and allow large groups to file in quicker. However, they often appear next to a swinging door for the handicapped. Therefore a choice is presented to the bipedal crowd, and in spite of all of its energy saving appeal- the swinging door, for whatever reason, seems to get all the action. This entrance to the Seattle Public Library solves that problem with a simple, yet clever, solution. A symmetrical concave indentation marks the entrance on the exterior, interrupting the porous glass facade. The revolving door lies at the crux of the entry. While solid metallic doors- both CLEARLY marked as handicapped entrances- flank either side of the revolving door and blend into their host walls. The emphasis on the shape draws the eye toward the revolving door, and the body follows. The handicapped metal doors barely register as doors, so it seems the revolving door is the only choice here.
Major Space, 5th Ave. Plaza
A huge interior space, broken down into more approachable forms, makes the first impression of the library’s interior. Upon entering the four story vaulted space, you are greeted by a coffee stand, a gift shop, and reference desk. The visitor is given an instant sense of comfort and familiarity- you have been welcomed. Meanwhile, daring features remind the observer that this is a unique place. The plaza is dominated by the building’s spine- a thick monolithic concrete elevator shaft- rising upward in the center of the room, and eventually out of sight. A dazzling grid of soft blue steel skims the entire perimeter of the room, and defines the facade with a glaze of clear windows. Natural light pours inward. Just as your eye is drawn up toward the mountain of books above, your focus darts to the floor, where jungle pattern rugs expand the limits of this floor’s hard boundary. And everywhere you look; more. More to take in, more to explore, more to learn. But through all of the eye candy, the visitor is faced with a series of pathways in the plaza. This building has something for you to discover, after the successful first impression, it is clear that much more awaits.
Transitional Space, Escalator no. 5. 5th floor
On the North wall of the fifth floor’s major public gather space, the “mixing chamber” is an escalator. Escalators seem to be the chosen mode of ascension through the library. Here, the building is doing all the work, and here lies an opportunity to give the rider something to reflect upon. A captive audience is a terrible thing to waste, as a person is bound in a state of linear transition while riding an escalator. These machines of utility arguable make the loudest statement in the building’s interior. While looking up from the base, into the glowing diagonal tunnel, one is forced to consider the elements present in the escalator’s design. The color of the escalator and the walls of the corridor are a dramatic acid green. The smooth plastic surface only reinforces its color, nothing tries to compete with this harsh and intriguing green. The color surrounds you- it’s everywhere, it’s everything. Florescent green is not a color one sees in such saturation very often. While riding the escalator, the time spent with this color affects the mind’s eye in ways we are not accustomed to. For me, an alien spaceship came to mind, as this space seemed so unnatural, too advanced for humans. But this isn’t sci-fi, it’s not even futuristic, it’s here now, we built it and we use it and it works very well. It is evidence of our own advances, our upward progress- a progress which the rider is now sharing the spoils of. The literal and suggestive movement guides the rider, and their imagination, upward. But just as quickly as the moment of inspiration began, the fantasy comes to sudden close. The escalator gently sets you at your destination, fading into the background. By now, the eye is nearly fatigued by the acid green, the oatmeal colored room you now stand in is a welcome respite.