In early summer 2021 we decided that Covid 19 conditions had improved enough that we could safely do some exploring. We had wanted to see some of the nation’s southwest National Parks and reasoned that if we did that by automobile and stayed in responsible chain hotels, we would be out doors most of the time and at low risk. Of course, since we live in Seattle, that gave us a considerable distance to cover; so we made a plan to see other things along the way as well.
National Parks Road Trip – Overall View
This overall map shows the states we travelled through with overnight stays indicated by the large white circles. The parks themselves, all on the lower part of the map, are shown in green. To make each part of the trip easier to follow, I’ve made smaller maps of each segment to accompany each leg of the trip. The first was from Seattle to Boise, Idaho, as shown on the map below.
Seattle, Washington to Boise, Idaho
Jane’s daughter lives in Boise, so we have made the trip there and back a number of times, usually stopping someplace along the way to break up the trip, this time in Baker City, Oregon. The first leg of the trip runs east from Seattle on I-90 in uneventful driving, up and over the Cascades through Snoqualmie Pass.
Snoqualmie Pass with Reservoir
At Ellensburg, the landscape flattens out into broad agricultural sweeps.
Instead of continuing on the freeway, we turned south onto one of our favorite drives, following the Yakima canyon and river downstream to the City of Yakima.
Umtanum
Here, the road, river, railroad and landscape wind in roughly parallel fashion through the canyon. I don’t know the precise geographical origins, but I have read that the river was here first and the rest of the formations grew up around it during many cycles of upwelling that have taken place along our volcanic mountain environment. If you want to see more of this amazing canyon, click HERE to see a description from another trip.
From Yakima, WA we continued south on the Freeway, past Pendleton, OR and up and over the Blue Mountains towards Baker City.
Approach to the Blue Mountains, heading southeastLooking back at the Blue Mountains, approaching Baker City
On a previous trip we drove through the Blue Mountains, spent some time in Baker City and visited the Oregon Trail Museum there. This time we stayed again at the Geiser Grand Hotel, a smartly renovated 19th century landmark.
Geiser Grand Hotel
Baker City is the commercial center for a large ranching valley between the Wallowa and Elkhorn Mountains and along the Powder River that flows eventually to the Snake. It’s not large but has some substantial buildings.
Baker Tower
The architecture of downtown tends towards ‘sturdy commercial’ with a lot of brick buildings, many of which have seen better days but are being fixed up for the next round.
Baker City downtown
Although we didn’t stop there on this trip, we previously visited the National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, a few miles out of town on a site through which the ruts of the original wagon trains still run.
Oregon Trail Interpretive Center Wagon Train Camp SimulationThe Museum loosely models farm structuresOregon Trail Wagon Train Simulation
The museum does a pretty good job of helping you feel that you’re part of the situation by making many displays life size and setting them into rugged landscapes that frame your viewing experience.
The subsequent trip from Baker City to Boise runs in places along the Snake River. We found that getting off the freeway and on to back roads near the river was quiet, refreshing, and provided an opportunity for Jane to do a bit of birding.
Snake River
Boise is the state capitol of Idaho, so it has a presence that it might not otherwise.
Idaho State Capitol
The city has been urbanizing rapidly the last few years and it shows each time we visit. Some of it includes restoration work of historic structures.
Other additions are definitely more contemporary – and a bit anonymous.
Jane’s daughter lives in a near north end neighborhood within walking distance of downtown but with about the right amount of separation from the hustle and bustle as well.
Alternatively, Boise has a special connection with the surrounding landscape, in that parts of it have been preserved as parkland that comes right up against the growing city.
It should be said, though, that each time we visit, there are more houses being built in the rolling hills between downtown and the mountains.
On this latest trip we took a drive out to a relatively new Lucky Peak Lake State Park, built along a reservoir a few miles east of the city.
Lucky Peak Lake / Reservoir
Even though this is a state facility, its size and dramatic surrounding landscape felt like an introduction to our upcoming tour of the national parks in Utah and Arizona – though this would be the last time on the trip when we saw this much water all in one place.
During the architectural doldrums of the early 1990’s, when I was between jobs, I was offered the opportunity to fill a one-year opening on the Architectural Faculty at Washington State University by the Dean, Rafi Samizay. He asked me to teach Architectural Programming and 5th year design in the Fall; and in the Spring, 5th year Thesis Design. At that time, Rafi said that a second course opening existed in the Spring if I wanted to propose something that would be of interest to me.
In the ten years or so leading up to this point I had had my first involvements with Design Team Collaboration, a process of involving multiple disciplines, including artists, in developing public designs as a group and involving the community in the process as well. The Downtown Seattle Transit Tunnel and Stations design was an intense collaboration between architects and artists that began my interest in the idea of balancing Art, Infrastructure, and Environment as the basis of an approach to large civic projects. After that I participated in a successful competition design with two artists and a landscape architect for a new King Street Gardens Park in Alexandria, Virginia. Subsequently, I worked as a consultant to an artist on a number of environment-related projects.
Based on this background, I proposed to Rafi that I teach A Collaboration Studio for a semester, assuming that I could get a number of students from different disciplines interested in trying it out. I developed a small promotional poster and put it up in the schools of Architecture, Landscape Architecture, and Art, to see if there was interest.
The poster used a drawing from King Street Gardens Park to give a sense that this would be a course that explored a variety of forms and ideas, not just Architecture. I also contacted the faculties of the three disciplines to explore their interest in having their students work on a full-semester, cross-discipline design.
The Interest
There was immediate student interest; but the faculties were reluctant. In an academic setting it takes a lot of time and discussion to establish a program, the courses that will provide the skills to complete the program, and the whole credit structure that will work towards graduation. I was essentially asking for an exception to the rules on relatively short notice. For a time, I thought I might have to abandon the idea because of its administrative complexities. Then, one afternoon, three interested landscape architecture students paid me a visit in my office and said, essentially, “You’re not giving up!”
After that, there was no turning back. I sorted out the administrative issues; and Rafi arranged for a small graduate studio space we could use as a home base. We were off and running with eight students: three architects, three landscape architects and two artists.
In the beginning, since none of us had done this kind of work in a classroom setting, I had everyone introduce themselves and talk about their work and ideas. One of the major challenges of collaborative work is developing the trust and understanding necessary to successfully share the creative process. David was a sculptor; Curtis was one of my 5th year architecture students; John was an architecture student; Mary and Angie were Landscape students; Monique was an art student; Kurtis, a landscape student; and Harley a 4th year architecture student. They had all experienced the typical design format in which each student does his/hers own work, and has the work judged against a program but also – inevitably – against each other’s. It was import for me to convey that in this class we would all be contributing our skills to a shared goal.
I introduced myself as a part of the collaboration. My experience to that point had been that collaboration is an inclusive process in which everyone shares their skills and also works to see that everyone else’s goals are met. That meant that I was also part of the collaboration, even though I was also managing the class process.
Mark Spitzer, Interim Associate Professor of Architecture, WSU
My previous work had also taught me that this is a learning-by-doing endeavor. I resolved that the best way to teach it would be to have us all design the class itself, then the scope and nature of the gateway project, then the gateway project. That way, they would experience the “designing of the rules” that occurs in genuine collaborations and reflects the political realities of human cooperation and conflict.
The Project and the Challenge
One of the aspects of our culture in which I am particularly interested is the way in which the infrastructure we design and build (roads, bridges, parks, campuses, public buildings, etc) affects and is affected by the environment which we all share. Immediately in front of the main entrance to the Washington State University campus, the state was, at that very moment, widening and rebuilding highway 270 and the junction to the campus entrance,
Photo of Junction 270 site looking from the direction of downtown Pullman. In this photo one half of the old bridge has been removed and construction has started on the new bridge foundations.
and the bridge that carries it over the Palouse River and railroad (below). Since the project affected the entrance to the campus (left above), an adjacent strip of highway-related strip retail (right above), wetland and river landscape, and sites for potential housing, I decided to focus that collection of elements as a gateway to both the campus and the community, and include all of them in the design program.
Original route 270 bridge over the railroad and Palouse River (hidden on the left) looking toward town.
This approach had some distinct advantages for the class. The needs (student housing, better retail, effective use of the hillside, some environmental sensibility, a more gracious campus entrance, a some level of harmony between the campus and city) were all clear and compelling. The site was a 5 minute walk from our design studio. The elements of the program were familiar. And the fact that the site was currently being torn up made it obvious that large-scale change was clearly do-able.
Strip Retail along route 270 opposite the main entrance to the WSU campus.
The Collaboration Process
Collaboration is a learning-by-doing endeavor. I resolved that the best way to teach it would be to have the students design the class itself, then the scope and nature of the gateway project, then the gateway project. That way, they would experience the “designing of the rules” that occurs in genuine collaborations and reflects the political realities of human cooperation and conflict.
Everyone counts in a collaboration, and conversely, everyone makes his or her skills available to the group. (Willing is the magic word – willing to share one’s skills, willing to participate, willing to listen to others). In our class, I chose this to mean that I was a part of the collaboration along with the students. I brought one set of skills and experiences; they each brought theirs. Together we had a Studio of Skills with which to approach the gateway design and manage the process as well.
Since this approach was new to the students, they had some pretty clear reactions, especially since much of the work was done in informal, small-group conversations.
Junction 270 team holds in informal outdoor session
Some of their comments convey a sense of the newness of the process:
“In architecture you assume that everyone else works in the same way as architects do. What I learned is that some of the artists worked better in three dimensions . . .”
“It was an unusual feeling having the professor working along side the students on designing the project.”
“It was difficult to get used to someone else drawing on your drawings and trying out their ideas on yours.”
In the case of a project like Junction 270, collaboration is about community-based design as well, meaning that all the issues related to the campus Gateway area create the definition of the project and determine the people in the community who need to be involved. As a result, during the semester, we interviewed or heard presentations from staff of the University, the City of Pullman, the Pullman Civic Trust, the Department of Transportation, and the local retail community. I said to the students that they should take these various points of view as equally legitimate and worthy of consideration as we proceeded through the project. I was impressed with how forth-coming our various presenters were.
The dynamic of a collaborative project reflects struggles which change brings to a community. It also reflects the belief that these issues will be better resolved if everyone affected is willing to make the struggle public. A public setting permits many points of view to be presented, in a facilitated environment, for everyone’s understanding. During the development of the project, with the help of the Pullman Civic Trust, the students and I ran a community workshop that involved a wide range of Pullman and University participants.
Where to start? – Research the Situation
The rolling hills of the Palouse region of Washington and Idaho, a result of dramatic lava flows overlain with rich topsoil, strike you immediately in contrast to the rest of the state.
Palouse landscape in the Fall, with partially burned-off fields.Palouse landscape intersected by wooded stream-bed.
Our Junction 270 project would not directly include these agricultural elements; but many of them would be visible from the site, and the site itself still carried similar characteristics.
Route 270 approach to WSU campus from the East
The WSU campus sits on a hill (right above) that slopes down to the Palouse River. Route 270 cuts across the brow of the hill, staying high enough to be out of the flood plain and to clear the river and railroad below. It also leaves just enough space for a strip of small-scale retail buildings, opposite the entrance roadway to the WSU campus (below left).
At the time of our Junction 270 project, a portion of WSU’s hill was being carved away (above right) to provide space to widen the road and build extra lanes to handle traffic to and from the campus entrance.
The retail stores backed up to an area that sloped down to the small railroad freight line and river flood plane. Our site consisted of the existing retail area plus the grassy slope (center below), flanked on each side by existing 3-story housing projects. This was the part of the site that sat directly across the highway from the main campus entrance.
Landscape Materials
Beneath all that rolling farmland lies miles of basalt and granite. In places, where wind and/or water have worn away the topsoil, this stone asserts itself into the landscape. The Landscape students in particular wanted this stone to play a strong role in the design.
For plant materials we assumed that all new specimens would be required; so we spent some time at local nurseries, exploring what was possible.
And we did also have one odd but strong clump of existing willow trees on the site.
We couldn’t believe that these trees had survived the history of development in the area, primarily because the original highway had created an embankment right up against them. What we discovered was that there was a storm water drain and pipe running through the center of the clump; and we deduced that it had been put in when the entrance road to the campus was built in a swale in the land that also contained a small creek. The road filled the swale; and the creek went into the pipe.
Housing and Retail Research
In the beginning of the project, we determined that student housing would play a major role in the design. The WSU campus at that time was suffering from a lack of decent housing; and the housing available nearby was not always configured for student living. We also resolved that we would provide space in the project for enough retail to absorb all of the facilities currently on the site. Finally, even though we hadn’t yet visualized it, we knew that there should be some open gathering space woven through the site.
No one felt that there were good models for housing / retail combinations in Pullman at that time. Both student housing and town apartments were developed without including retail; and retail was either downtown or in nearby malls. To get some good models we relied on examples from Seattle.
Pike Market Housing with street level retail – Seattle
Having a larger market place to survey also gave us a chance to look at a wider range of housing forms and materials.
Housing above retail – Belltown – Seattle
Seattle also has a variety of examples of hillside construction.
Hillside housing – Seattle
We knew that there would inevitably be some form of hillclimbs for access.
Pike Market Hillclimb – Seattle
The circulation paths would logically reach some form of open space.
Central Plaza – Carillon Point – Kirkland, WA
We knew we wanted the scale of the retail to be inviting, with shelter and outdoor seating.
Finally, we knew that we would have to make transitions into the landscaping, especially where the willow grove framed the project on the south end.
With all of these inspirations in front of us, we started the design process – Junction 270 – 2.
Each April the Arts Quad at the University of Washington puts on a show. The quad frames the show with a sharply defined rectangle of Collegiate Gothic architecture, as seen in the lower center part of the aerial photo below. The Liberal Arts Quadrangle, more popularly known as the Quad, is the main quadrangle at the University of Washington in Seattle, Washington. It is often considered the school’s trademark attraction, especially in the spring.
As you can see from the aerial, the University of Washington has managed to maintain a luxuriously landscaped campus, even given the on-going pressures for adding more buildings as the enrollment grows and new programs enter the curriculum. This landscaping frames your entrance to the quad and your first view of the Yoshino cherrytrees that are the stars of the show.
Yoshino cherry (染井吉野 Somei Yoshino) is a hybrid cherry of between Prunus speciosa as father plant and Prunus pendula as mother. It occurs as a natural or artificial hybrid in Japan and is now one of the most popular and widely planted cultivated flowering cherries in temperate climates worldwide. It is a clone from a single tree and propagated by grafting to all over the world.
The cherry trees were bought by the UW in 1939 and initially planted at the Washington Park Arboretum. The trees were moved onto the campus’s Liberal Arts Quad in 1962 after construction began on State Route 520, which cut across part of the arboretum. In 2014, an additional 32 trees were donated with funds from the Japan Commerce Association and will be planted at Rainier Vista and in the arboretum.
As you pass between the buildings and into the quad, the cherries envelop you.
As is obvious, there were a few other people there to see the trees as well.
And everyone had a camera or phone camera to capture the color – or each other.
The north-east end of the quad sits at a slightly higher elevation and was the final portion to be added with the construction of the Art and Music Buildings. These two buildings, each with towers, act as a grand gateway for those descending the 3-tiered stairway. This is the Art building, in a photo taken a week earlier, before the blossoms really started to put on a show.
Here’s the framing Music building, where someone slipped a magnolia into the cherries.
Standing at the top of the stair gives the best overview of the quad.
Wandering around under the trees offers an endless variety of photo opportunities.
But – not everything is about cherry blossoms. For some people, with other important things going on in their lives, they’re just a nice background. There were a number of people taking wedding-related photos.
But for many, it’s just a pleasant day to walk around the quad and enjoy the ephemeral quality of this annual show.
Travel Design Impressions 