SO EMOTIONAL:
EERO SAARINEN, SASHA VELOUR
AND THE ARCHITECTURAL REVEAL
M.I.T Chapel
(1955)
Eero Saarinen
Cambridge, MA
It is February in Boston, and RuPaul’s Drag Race has returned to television. There is a Boston local competing on this season, and my housemates and I are perched. Growing anti-drag sentiment accross the country has prompted much discussion on the show about the meaning of drag.
Today is Thursday, a clear morning, and I am biking over the Massachusetts Avenue bridge. I am on my way to visit a modernist hero: Eero Saarinen’s MIT Chapel. I am hoping to find a quiet moment.
In design studio, we use the word moment to humanize our description of space. A moment is hard to capture or represent, yet it feels true to the way we experience buildings. Buildings are financed and constructed as a single process- but the way we consume them is piecemeal. We gather information available to us, and complete the building in our imagination. We infer to fill in the gap between what we have seen for ourselves and what we imagine a building may be. There is much opportunity within this gap to subvert expectation and appeal to our sense of surprise.
To better understand the power of subversion in architecture, we can point to an artist whose mastery of it is key to its existence: the drag queen. Both drag and architecture require an observer’s belief that an assembly of distinct elements can cohere into a single, real condition. Could drag queens have something to teach architects about serving realness? Drag doesn’t seek to feign the real- it seeks an understanding that lies beyond doubt.
Roxxxy Andrews’ double wig reveal
Credit: Logo TV
An great moment can connect us to that understanding. In the drag world, a reveal is an amazingly economical way of selling an idea, an emotion, or simply a feeling of confidence. A great example comes from the Season 9 finale of RuPaul’s Drag Race. It happens at around the 1:30 mark of the video below, though I recommend watching from the beginning for the full effect.
In the clip, Shea Coulée and Sasha Velour are lip-synching to Whitney Houston’s “So Emotional” (1986)
. Shea delivers a heartful performance, but is ultimately eclipsed by a cascade of rose petals, showering Sasha as she removes her gloves and wig. It brings the performance to a crescendo, and the crowd to its feet. Our sense of surprise is a powerful avenue to elicit an emotional repsonse. This is something Saarinen understood in the design of the MIT Chapel.
As I approach the chapel from accross the street, a heavy-looking cylindrical structure is obscured by a grove of deciduous trees and a single story wall. The wall distances the church the from the roar of the street, but it has the added effect of concealing the entrance to the chapel. Entering the chapel requires three sharp 90-degree turns, a somewhat awkward procession.
Walking around the low wall, I encounter the entrance: an airy, translucent structure that funnels directly into the body of the structure. There is another notable reveal. The heavy cylindrical wall does not sit squarely on the ground. Instead, it rests on arches sitting politely on column bases in the middle of a moat. The arches expose a concrete base beyond the wall, and even more curiously, appear to reverse the gravitational weight of the facade. What appeared to be a heavy masonry wall now appears pulled upwards, like a tablecloth.
Inside the entrance, a final 90 degree turn reveals a glimpse inside the chapel: a white marble altar bathed in daylight. The altar is cut from the same stone as the floor, which gives it the effect of rising from the ground. Adding to this image is Harry Bertoia’s excellent bronze installation piece, which creates a shimmering veil over the stone. The source of the light is just beyond the frame of the hallway. Walking towards the altar, more of the installation becomes visible.
A platform supporting the organ sits directly above the door, which extends the framing effect inside the chapel.
The source of the light will be concealed from us until we pass from under the organ, into the heart of the chapel. Saarinen has saved his reveal until the last possible moment: a large central oculus, flooding the room with light. Additional windows are hidden in the perimeter of the walls, projecting a light from moat that is fluid and soft. The walls of the structure undulate, adding another layer of abstraction to the exterior form. The quality of the interior space is serene, and completely unpredictable. Nothing about the chapel’s exterior hints to the rich play of light and form inside. The experience is compelling because of it. If drag queens can teach architects anything, its that great moments can come from unexpected places. It sometimes involves daring to reimagine what you see.
Photos by THK
Thank you to Jesse Seegers and Sarah Katherine Roszler for their words on this topic