Spirituality
& Perception - Paper 4
BUILT ENVIRONMENT AND CHRISTIAN SPIRITUALITY
Reflections at
Anglia
Ruskin
University
Chelmsford
Rivermead Campus
INTRODUCTION
AT
THE CAMPUS BOUNDARY
THE
STUDENT
VILLAGE
Queen’s,
Sawyers and
Ashcroft
Buildings
THE
THROUGH WAY
Faculty,
Tindal, Mildmay and
William
Harvey
Buildings
– AND ANOTHER!
SOME GENERAL CONCEPTS OF
SPIRITUALITY
IN CONCLUSION
REFERENCES
INTRODUCTION
The purpose of this paper
is to discern the nature of ‘spirituality’ in relation to a new
modern university campus from a built environment viewpoint.
My approach is to study
and reflect on the particular scenario of the
Anglia Ruskin University Chelmsford Rivermead Campus and then relate
my observations to some general concepts of spirituality.
I am taking ‘built
environment spirituality’ to mean what
we come to know spiritually and what we sense coherently and sensibly,
when we consider various facets of a built place.
Built environments can, it
seems to me, be viewed as three-dimensional:
·
Temporal – the past, present and future
of a place
·
Spatial – the buildings, outdoor
locations, paths and routes, all that makes up a place
·
Human – the people associated with a
place, those who made it, those who live study and work there, and not
least those who simply walk through or look at the place and all that
happens there.
These three dimensions are
inter-related; they create wholeness of experience and insightful
‘seeing’. In addition, they resonate with the words frequently
occurring in Christian liturgies in which ‘people of all places and
times’ are united in the praise of God. Spirituality in part is seeing
how these people, in this place and in these times are in fact part of
the world’s life expressing praise.
The Chelmsford Rivermead
campus of
Anglia
Ruskin
University
is a newly built place. All that was here before by way of factories and
industrial plant has been completely cleared away. After some fifteen
years work, the planners, architects and builders have completed almost
all of their projects. All the students and staff are here together for
the first time, some having moved in as early as1995 and others as
recently as 2009. The story of the transition is fully documented in
Anthony Kirby’s history of the University.
In my exploration I am
going to walk through the site following the University’s campus map
(available on the Chelmsford Campus section of the website).
Top
AT
THE CAMPUS BOUNDARY
We approach the campus from
New Street
, passing under the railway bridge. Before reaching the campus, off to
the right is Ashby House, the work-place of some of the University’s
essential administrative staff, never to be taken for granted.
Coming to the main
roundabout, the road to the right, Hoffman’s Way, reminds us that in
the 19th and 20th centuries this was a large
industrial area, and Chelmsford, some say, the only truly industrial
town in the south of England. Industry is essential to our lives, as are
flour and bread. Today, the still operational Marriage’s mill is
living, real industry right here. Going left from the roundabout we come
to the Rivermead Gate shops and surgery, basic services to support
everyday life, whoever we are, whatever the reason we are here.
The main entrance sign
carries the University coat of arms. The motto in translation means
‘Excellence Through Partnership’ and the illustrations include
representations of East Anglian sea, agriculture and industry.
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THE
STUDENT
VILLAGE
Behind Rivermead Gate is
the
Student
Village
, home for some 500 students at any one time. The red brick walls and
sloping tiled roofs do speak of English villages and English homes but,
for some of each succeeding 500, their true homes are a very long way
from
England
and their domestic buildings very unlike ours. John Ruskin loved English
domestic buildings but what he would have made of the industrially
produced service pods in each flat incorporating showers etc, I dare not
think! The builders of the
Student
Village
were one of the well known
Essex
design and construction companies, with whom some Built Environment
students have spent the early (and may be later) parts of their careers.
It is good to know that there is a hidden but living connection between
these buildings, this firm, and these students.
All but one of the flats
in the
Student
Village
is private to its occupants and their guests. The one exception is the
farthest flat on the ground floor which is the Chaplaincy Centre, which
is a place for everyone, open to all. It is a place where small things
happen – hospitality, food, refreshment, company, space to be still or
quiet for a moment or an hour. This is just an ordinary flat that has
been set apart for a special use, for anyone’s use. When chaplaincy
runs events such as a barbecue, the centre overflows on to the lawn
areas outside.
Top
Queen’s,
Sawyers and
Ashcroft
Buildings
I shall now take you back
once again to the main roundabout, this time to explore the Queen’s,
Sawyers and
Ashcroft
Buildings
. Often when I approach the main courtyard with the Queen’s building
on my right and Ashcroft ahead of me, I have similar thoughts. I
remember watching Queen’s being built, thousands of bricks, each one
individually laid by skilled hands, each one of the same material as all
the others but with its random, individual mix of colour. Human
communities, including this University, are like that. From the
forecourt, there is no hint of the technology of Queen’s building. It
is only from a distance that the large roof lantern can be seen with its
automatically opening and closing windows. Ashcroft is the opposite. It
highlights the name of one particular alumnus-donor against the
background of a high metallic-coloured wall. The technology of the
building is highly visible with the wall claddings apparently varying in
colour with time and climate. One cannot choose between the aesthetics
and technologies of the two buildings but one can look for each to
perform with its particular excellence. Technological excellence and
human associations combine to form an aspect of spirituality.
Sawyers is so called
because it houses primarily the Faculty of Education previously located
at Sawyer’s
Hall Lane
in
Brentwood
. Its position is such that it can easily be missed; it is necessary to
specifically approach it and look at it. It has a highly visible
contemporary technology comparable to that of Ashcroft but personal
anonymity comparable to that of Queen’s. The repetitive regularity of
the elevations resonates with the peace of the art gallery area at the
Queen’s end of the ground floor.
Having reflected on the
three buildings, we must think for a moment about their primary academic
roles, Queen’s as University Library, Ashcroft as
International
Business
School
and, as already said, Sawyers mainly as home of the Education Faculty. I
ask, is there a point in this three-part building where one can see all
three. And conceptually, is there a point from which education, business
and knowledge can be viewed, something that brings them into
relationship with each other? Is wisdom such a point? Or humanity? Or
wealth? Or something else? I ask myself, if I could commission a small
sculpture to be located at this point, what would it be? Or,
alternatively, inlay a pattern or sign to the floor? A possibility would
be Julian of Norwich holding in her hand the hazelnut in which she saw
the whole world; or her haunting words, ‘All shall be well, all manner
of things shall be well’. If we can see the whole, then wellness
becomes a possibility. If we can only see library books, or business
balance sheets, or educational curricula we are confined, but if we can
see in various directions are we not more free?
Top
THE
THROUGH WAY
Let us come back to the
courtyard between Ashcroft and Queen’s. The angle of the L gives
protection, enclosure and safety but the open, opposite corner leads one
on into the main route through the campus. Often
before I set off, I like to absorb this corner place. It is not an
arcaded monastery cloister fully enclosed, but neither is it completely
open, an unbounded nowhere. It is a happy mix of care and challenge.
Sometimes the colours from the claddings of Ashcroft are reflected onto
the courtyard, in a similar manner to the reflections of medieval
stained glass onto the floor of a cathedral.
Let us move now to where
we can see the pedestrian way leading into the next part of the campus.
It is a public right of way so children who are not yet students are
discernible; however adults who are also not yet part of the University
community in fact merge into it. For such passers-through, this is their
local community. But if one listens to students talking among themselves
there is a variety of languages confirming that the world too is here.
On our right is a large
area of well mown, green grass dropping down to the waterside. On days
when the sky is blue the contrast between it and the green is gripping.
It is not surprising that early man thought in terms of the three-decker
universe. The water too is part of creation mythologies; here it is
clear, still and reflective. Overlooking it, in the corner behind
Ashcroft is the memorial corner where people the University community
has lost can be remembered and cherished.
Looking down the
pedestrian way we see the end elevations of the Faculty, Tindal and
William
Harvey
Buildings
. They incorporate some areas of weather boarding, symbolic, a colleague
tells me, of renewable building materials and sustainable construction.
Further in the distance is the wide elevation of the Mildmay Sports Hall
largely green in colour with a newly-planted hedge in front of it. The
public footpath goes around Mildmay and out into an area of allotments
and avenues of houses, reminding us that mostly we pass through
University and go on to the routines of life, here in Chelmsford or
elsewhere.
If one walks along this
path in busy term time it is the people who are most prominent. But in
the quiet days, such as those of August, the place itself shares its
restfulness and gentle orderliness.
Top
Faculty,
Tindal, Mildmay and
William
Harvey
Buildings
– AND ANOTHER!
Note:
The Faculty Building has now been
renamed Marconi after Guglielmo Marconi, much of whose pioneer work on wireless
transmission was undertaken in Chelmsford.
As one looks down the
pedestrian way at this series of buildings, one notes that they are all
flat roofed. John Ruskin would see no Gothic towers or spires or pitched
roofs. There is nothing pointing upwards. In one way, this is quite
rational; today we have the technology to build good flat roofs and
there is no need to waste money on roof space which can often be
expensive to heat or awkward to use. In another way, it is symbolic.
Much of our society is not at ease with the idea that through upward
aspiration we shall find our meanings and truths. Our searching and
exploring is at ground level and within ourselves and our societies.
I do not think that one is right and the other wrong; it is just
that they come at different times and speak to us in different ways.
As is often noted, the
Faculty and
Tindal
Buildings
are not straight in plan but gently curved to follow the line of the
River Chelmer. The curves make the elevations look good. I am reminded
of Stephen Langton’s line, ‘What is rigid, gently bend’. I know
that being part of this University has taken many rigidities out of me.
Opposite, the
William
Harvey
Building
is the focal building for the Health Faculty. Its west (front) elevation
is, I understand, technologically a ‘rainscreen cladding’ (a
technique for managing the flows of water on the face of a building)
while visually it is designed to illustrate human DNA. I know a little
about the former but practically nothing about the latter. Thus here
there is, for me at least, a mystery. I could do some research and
improve my factual knowledge of both but that would not enable me to see
any more deeply. It is amazing that building technology can be used to
illustrate fundamentals of medical science. They are united in their
witness to integrity. Each expresses the truthfulness of the other. The
building technologists give purpose and attractiveness to the medical
work, while the medics give a human purpose and dignity to the skills of
the technologists. Each by itself is just technique or factual
knowledge; together they have meaning. That is a facet of spirituality.
The
Faculty
Building
contains both a mock law court and architectural drawing studios, an
interesting juxtaposition – even though the student occupants of one
may rarely if ever visit the other. For built environment professionals,
the law is a regulator, disciplining what we do as in planning law or
construction regulations. Contract law
and associated practices such a s arbitration provide a framework
for orderliness and justice in the carrying out of construction
projects. The reciprocal pattern is that built environment professionals
design and build the essential facilities, varying from child-sensitive
juvenile courts to high security prisons, which the law needs in order
to carry out its activities. Some of the best views on this campus are
from the upper floors of the
Faculty
Building
looking east over the lawns and riverside area. I wonder what lawyers
and built environment professionals would ‘see’ if they went there
together regularly and talked and looked. As Anglia Ruskin is not a
collegiate university such cross-disciplinary interaction does not come
about naturally.
Although non-collegiate,
Anglia Ruskin’s relatively democratic life is exemplified by the fact
that the Students’ Union, the Vice Chancellor’s Office, and one of
the refectories all inhabit the
Tindal
Building
.
On the land adjoining
Tindal, each October a large temporary building is constructed to
accommodate graduation ceremonies. How symbolic! Here, unlike some other
universities, there is no Great Hall or similar facility epitomising
permanence and wealth. Here life is transient; everyone is on a journey;
graduation, perhaps, is one of a number of small steps, not some great
climax or inter-change point between youth and adulthood. To see the
nature of this one only has to look at the varied types of family groups
walking around on graduation days.
I have said earlier that
the last building on this campus – or the first if one is coming the
other way – is the Mildmay Sports Hall, a reminder of the importance
of exercise and relaxation in all our lives.
But nothing is ever
complete. A new medical building is under construction. On a clear June
day I am struck by the orderliness of the site. The blue hoarding is
clean and the observation windows in it well-cleaned. The partly
complete steel frame depicts the beauty of straight lines. It will not
be visible for long; like the metal floor deck it will become the hidden
but essential structure. Various prominent signs and various colours of
hard hats are reminders of the value of human health, safety and life.
Noise is mixed, the constant background noise of construction machinery
and the unpredictable noises coming from operations on the metal work.
This building is for a post-graduate medical facility. It doesn’t say
so anywhere. How then do the construction workers know what they are
doing? Does it matter anyway? A spiritual way of thinking suggests it
does.
Top
SOME GENERAL CONCEPTS OF
SPIRITUALITY
I want now to relate the
particular campus scenario I have studied to some more general views on
the nature of Christian spirituality.
-
I
start with my own Reformed, tradition. In Letting
God be God, a study of Reformed spirituality, David Cornick has
written, ‘Reformed spirituality is about public space... about the
“theatre” of God’s glory, the world. It is about building a
city of the saints, creating an academy of vocations’. That is a very
succinct aspiration, towards which I believe this campus can be seen
to point. This campus is a theatre and the people actors
participating in education related to a range of professions –
business, health, education, technology, law and architecture and
building itself.
-
Although not using the
word spirituality, I believe the Franciscan Joan Puls, writing in
1985 for publication by the World Council of Churches, was in fact
talking about it. She says:
All of
it [life] is sacrament.
All
intended to be noted and decoded and sanctified.
All
meant to speak to us of the voice that speaks from the burning bush,
or
the blazing gunfire in
Belfast
or the burned out building in Beirut
.
Spirituality
embraces all of life.
It is
the seamless robe worn in all our roles,
It is
the style of our judging and acting.
It is
the silence of our struggles and the echo of our cry for justice.
This is the hard side of
what goes on here and beyond in all the work that will be done by
graduates of this University
-
Edward Robinson writes
from a Christian artist’s point of view in a way relevant to
spirituality. During this study I have found myself relating to a range
of mini-physical places and mini-meanings; there has been no one thing
that has focussed my thoughts. The advantage of this is that any place
can be a focal place, any meaning a focal meaning. Robinson says:
... I
like to think that any Londoner who went to work every day past Naum
Gabo’ s marvellous rotating fountain in the courtyard of St Thomas’s
Hospital might feel in him- or herself some stirring of the creative
spirit – not of course to be expressed as a desire to design
sculpture, but perhaps as no more than a wordless reminder that there
are still an infinity of possibilities in life to be explored ...
This campus is indeed a
place for exploring the possibilities of life.
-
My late friend Michael
Ranken, a food technologist, encapsulated his own spirituality in a
small book entitled How God Looks
If You Don’t Start in Church – A Technologist’s View.
Michael’s picture of God as Trinity begins with a chapter on God
as Spirit. He says, ‘In my spirit I recognise such things as
truth, beauty, goodness and love and their opposites, falsehood,
ugliness, evil and hate. His spirit, he believes, is related to the
universal Spirit of goodness. That Spirit is seen through the laws and
beauties of science and through the professional services rendered by
technologists. His
Trinitarian picture is completed in chapters on God
in Creation and God and
Humanity. This campus, this created place, with all its people
contains within itself, and in all that goes on here, what Michael sees
as the expression of spirit, t is that relationship which is
spirituality.
-
And do I myself have a
theory? Perhaps. I remember one August afternoon when the campus was all
but deserted. I had made my draft notes for this paper but not yet
looked up the work of Cornick, Pels, Robinson and Ranken. I sat for a
long time trying to work out what I thought spirituality was here. I
scribbled the following list:
Spirituality:
- probes the depths
- evaluates the values
- integrates the parts
- acknowledges the mystery
- clarifies the truths
- scans the horizons
- is aware of the absences
- not
yet discerned
Subsequently I have not
taken this as a checklist to see if it can be precisely tied back to my
observations. In spirituality, the end is never reached, the question
never finally answered, the loose ends never completely gathered up.
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IN
CONCLUSION
It does seem important to
say that for the Anglia Ruskin University Chelmsford Rivermead Campus in
its present form, this is a moment that will not recur. This campus will
never have so much newness again. Never again will it be seen to rise as
a whole. It will inevitably develop the rich patinas and tiresome
defects of age, but theirs will be a different quality. Additions will
doubtless be built and alterations made but they will open up different
images and experience.
Christian traditions in
the end come back to Scripture. In relation to spirituality, the Wisdom
literature often seems particularly apposite. This passage from
Ecclesiasticus picture’s Wisdom’s house and man’s tent secured to
it and shaded by it:
Happy is the man who fixes his thoughts on wisdom and uses his brains to
think,
the man who contemplates her ways and ponders her secrets.
The man who camps beside her house, driving his tent-peg
into her wall,
who pitches his tent close by her
where it is best for men to live,
sheltered by her from the heat,
and dwelling in the light of her presence.