The Ottawa Citizen, New Homes Section, Saturday, May 4th, 1996
First Nations Building Expresses a Culture
Architecture is about so much more than shelter from the elements. As perhaps the most immediately present of all art forms, it can subtly or overtly remind us of where we come from, of where we are now and where we might go.
It may be for this reason that Canadian First Nations have recently sought to repair the historic damage inflicted on their communities with some of the country's most impressive architecture. From the much praised Seabird School in British Columbia by Patkau Architects to the Cree town of Ouje-Bougoumou in Quebec which has won Douglas Cardinal and his clients a prestigious United Nations award, architecture has served as a way of giving physical and spiritual redefinition to community.
Most recently the Ottawa firm of KWC Architects received and American Forest and Paper Association citation for its First Nation Child Care Centre. Located 10 minutes east of Eganville in the Algonquin community of Golden Lake, the richly animated, 3500-square-foot facility was one of only four projects outside of the US to be recognized for its creative use of wood construction.
Bob Webster, the partner in charge of client liaison who worked with chief design architect Doug Clancey on the buildings concept, says the relationship with the client was key to the project's creative success.
"We truly played the role of architect as facilitator; working with the community to give expression to a sort of design imperative emerging from a rich history and culture."
"When we started the process, we were given design drawings done by the community's children. In addition, a number of the band council members submitted sketches...in the shape of the five-toed paw of a black bear, a symbol of the band."
Other culturally derived suggestion included the importance of the circle as the representations of life and the more functional tradition of the Algonquins' eight-pole construction method. Webster and Clancey also turned to their own research and were struck by the craft tradition that had made the Algonquin famous for their canoes and snowshoes, a fact noted in the Wood Association's citation.
"What we then set out to do was to imbue the design with cultural significance layered upon by a physical expression of this craft tradition," Webster says.
What the architects did not set out to do was to produce a tacky Hollywood "Indian" stage set. Thus, the child care centre is very much a modern building that clearly exposes its structure and avoids unnecessary decoration while at the same time boldly expressing certain cultural images and coyly hiding others.
Its primary image is taken from the rudimentary shelters of a once- trading people. An irregular row of 12 massive white pine poles, each stabilized by a leaning brace pole, forms a spine supporting arching trusses canted downward toward the ground. These "overturned canoe"-shaped trusses form three roof levels to the east and a lower one to the west. A flat roof over a storage room and covered plaza brings to five the number of levels, thus quietly symbolizing the number of toes on the paw of a bear.
Under this web of structural detail, evocative of the tracery of craft stitching, the walls are left free to bend and jive. Two circular forms appear, the smallest being an almost complete drum sheltered under the lowest of the "canoe" roofs. It functions as the toddlers' activity room.
A larger drum appears at the north-east corner, its circular form carried into the interior in the floor material. Inside this larger circle is inscribed a second full circle defined by eight poles supporting a crown of curved wood.
On the outside, the drums are signalled by vertical cedar board and batten stained sandy beige, while the flat, plywood-clad surfaces are vibrant green with dark red, horizontal batons.
The interior is marked by a free flow of space centred around a curving form containing storage facilities and washrooms. This form, part brilliant red, part white with birch bark trim, has taken on the unintended role of art and craft gallery wall. Arching over this hub of community activities is the filigree of the roof trusses, "left open to allude to the webbing of the snow shoe," says Webster.
The Algonquin First Nation at Golden Lake, with the help of KWC and local builder Larry Schroeder, have demonstrated that architecture can enrich the experience of the community and unite the past wit.
First Nations Building Expresses a Culture
Architecture is about so much more than shelter from the elements. As perhaps the most immediately present of all art forms, it can subtly or overtly remind us of where we come from, of where we are now and where we might go.
It may be for this reason that Canadian First Nations have recently sought to repair the historic damage inflicted on their communities with some of the country's most impressive architecture. From the much praised Seabird School in British Columbia by Patkau Architects to the Cree town of Ouje-Bougoumou in Quebec which has won Douglas Cardinal and his clients a prestigious United Nations award, architecture has served as a way of giving physical and spiritual redefinition to community.
Most recently the Ottawa firm of KWC Architects received and American Forest and Paper Association citation for its First Nation Child Care Centre. Located 10 minutes east of Eganville in the Algonquin community of Golden Lake, the richly animated, 3500-square-foot facility was one of only four projects outside of the US to be recognized for its creative use of wood construction.
Bob Webster, the partner in charge of client liaison who worked with chief design architect Doug Clancey on the buildings concept, says the relationship with the client was key to the project's creative success.
"We truly played the role of architect as facilitator; working with the community to give expression to a sort of design imperative emerging from a rich history and culture."
"When we started the process, we were given design drawings done by the community's children. In addition, a number of the band council members submitted sketches...in the shape of the five-toed paw of a black bear, a symbol of the band."
Other culturally derived suggestion included the importance of the circle as the representations of life and the more functional tradition of the Algonquins' eight-pole construction method. Webster and Clancey also turned to their own research and were struck by the craft tradition that had made the Algonquin famous for their canoes and snowshoes, a fact noted in the Wood Association's citation.
"What we then set out to do was to imbue the design with cultural significance layered upon by a physical expression of this craft tradition," Webster says.
What the architects did not set out to do was to produce a tacky Hollywood "Indian" stage set. Thus, the child care centre is very much a modern building that clearly exposes its structure and avoids unnecessary decoration while at the same time boldly expressing certain cultural images and coyly hiding others.
Its primary image is taken from the rudimentary shelters of a once- trading people. An irregular row of 12 massive white pine poles, each stabilized by a leaning brace pole, forms a spine supporting arching trusses canted downward toward the ground. These "overturned canoe"-shaped trusses form three roof levels to the east and a lower one to the west. A flat roof over a storage room and covered plaza brings to five the number of levels, thus quietly symbolizing the number of toes on the paw of a bear.
Under this web of structural detail, evocative of the tracery of craft stitching, the walls are left free to bend and jive. Two circular forms appear, the smallest being an almost complete drum sheltered under the lowest of the "canoe" roofs. It functions as the toddlers' activity room.
A larger drum appears at the north-east corner, its circular form carried into the interior in the floor material. Inside this larger circle is inscribed a second full circle defined by eight poles supporting a crown of curved wood.
On the outside, the drums are signalled by vertical cedar board and batten stained sandy beige, while the flat, plywood-clad surfaces are vibrant green with dark red, horizontal batons.
The interior is marked by a free flow of space centred around a curving form containing storage facilities and washrooms. This form, part brilliant red, part white with birch bark trim, has taken on the unintended role of art and craft gallery wall. Arching over this hub of community activities is the filigree of the roof trusses, "left open to allude to the webbing of the snow shoe," says Webster.
The Algonquin First Nation at Golden Lake, with the help of KWC and local builder Larry Schroeder, have demonstrated that architecture can enrich the experience of the community and unite the past wit.
