Eric Hui
E 603A- Bump
Spanish Mediterranean:
My Master Plan
Students
at the University of Texas at Austin
share similar experiences in their application processes. When we each applied
to the University of Texas at Austin, we sent most of our application through
the internet; however we still sent our transcripts and teacher recommendations
via the postal service to P.O. Box 8058, Austin, Texas 78713. In a way, the
person who delivered our applications to the admissions committee carried the
spirits of each one of us. Our packages of anxious transcripts and teacher
recommendations passed through campus seeing the various architectural designs
of the different buildings. Soon, they reached their final destination at 2400 Inner Campus Drive Austin, Texas 78712— the Office of Admissions. Our admissions documents had made it to the
most famous landmark on campus, the UT Tower, known more formally as the Main Building.
The arrival of our applications was, for many, the first taste of the University of Texas’s architecture— architecture that will
impact us for the next four years of our undergraduate career.
Whether students agree with the University of Texas master plan or not, the buildings
are here to stay. It is the permanence of buildings that plays a symbolic role
in the meaning and impact architecture has on individuals. There is nothing one
can do to rid the university of the horrible, prison-like confines of Jester
Dormitory or of Robert Lee Moore Hall (RLM). One cannot escape the floating
boxes of the Peter T. Flawn Academic Center (FAC) and Harry Ransom Center
(HRC). The red roofs and large plazas of Mary E. Gearing Hall (GRE) and
buildings in the six-pack will still remain when students graduate four years
later. So what can be done? Students can make the best of what exists and find
their favorite places on campus where the buildings and the architecture make
them feel at ease. Or students can exercise the right side of their brains and
design their own master plan they feel suits them and the campus better (sic).
For me, that would be a campus with strictly Spanish Mediterranean
architecture. For the most part, I am happy about the architecture at UT;
however, the biggest flaw I see in the master plan of the University
of Texas at Austin is the lack of unity between the buildings.
My
campus master plan would require all buildings to adhere to a solely Spanish
Mediterranean style for consistency and flow. Since I was young, I have always
had an affinity for Spanish Mediterranean architecture. This affinity stems
partially from the work of architect Steve Fuqua, who is know for designing
high-priced, luxurious homes in the Sugar Land area. I find Fuqua’s houses,
specifically the Spanish Mediterranean houses, to be aesthetically pleasing
because of the universal use of red roofs, grand arches, and simple stucco
walls. Although it is difficult to compare houses to college campuses, I would
incorporate the styles found in Fuqua’s Spanish Mediterranean houses into my
ideal college master plan. A campus master plan is vital to create the perfect
atmosphere for students, and features found in Spanish Mediterranean
architecture can play a distinct role in forming this perfect campus.
Because a college
campus serves to provide an environment for students to learn and to grow, it
is important to consider the effect of architecture on the college experience. Architecture
affects not only the surroundings but also affects the mood or learning
environment of the campus. If architecture were not important, the Board of
Regents could just randomly throw together materials, create walls, and call it
a college campus. A college campus building involves more than just students
coming in, listening to the professor’s lecture, and then leaving and moving on
with their lives. Buildings influence learning, and a master plan requires deep
thought and insight into the future. Because of the permanence of architecture,
there are often feuds when choosing the architecture for a college campus. A
college’s architecture represents how well it “understands its past and its
values,” and thus, I feel a Spanish Mediterranean master plan is most suitable
for the University of Texas at Austin. [1]
By
considering the Spanish influence on Texas, we
find that Spanish Mediterranean architecture is very appropriate for Austin and for Texas.
The Spanish idea of unity is expressed through use of city plazas and would be
favorable to an academic environment. Moreover, the openness of Spanish
architecture not only suits the climate of Texas well but also contributes to the unity
among the buildings. Furthermore, in architecture, “particular shapes and
colors have psychological effects on their viewers… [For example,] arches and
columns have often stood for power and tradition.”[2] Buildings
are also influenced by the way light touches their surfaces. Bends and curves,
refractions and reflections all influence the mood a building creates.
Contrasts between light and dark can also affect what a building makes one
feel. Learning can only occur in the right environment. That means that the
lighting and the mood must be right. In general, a college campus master plan
should be designed to give the students 
comfort and put them at ease.
Spanish Mediterranean architecture provides the sense of security and community
that Robert Berdahl claims is important to any university: “a university
community… [is] fundamentally about the interwoven character of the people and
the place [where people] participate in the life of the community.”[3] Features
of Spanish Mediterranean architecture evoke positive feelings by promoting a
thriving academic setting and creating the perfect mood through the use of the
archways and promenades. This idea that buildings have an impact on the
learning environment is reason why Spanish Mediterranean architecture should be
chosen as the University of Texas at Austin’s
master plan.
The tactful use of Spanish
Mediterranean for the University
of Texas’s campus master
plan would create a stronger sense of community and unity. From the flowing
archways to the red- tile roof, Spanish architecture helps unite students
together in a learning community. The gracefulness and fluidity of each arch stimulate
feelings of peacefulness and serenity. In my experiences on campus, I feel a
connection with the Spanish Mediterranean buildings. Each time I walk past the tower, through the
Spanish plaza of Mary E. Gearing Hall,
or even inside the courtyard of the 
Honors
Quad, I feel at home and relaxed because of the red roofs and the graceful
arches. The emotions associated with
arches and red roofs of Spanish Mediterranean architecture can also be
discovered at the Blanton Museum of Art. Arches have an amazing ability to
unite buildings and the environment. On the class field trip to the capitol and
downtown Austin,
I passed by the Blanton Museum of Art on the way there and back. Going down the
walkway with the large arches and the perfectly manicured grass was very
relaxing. My master plan would consist of a series of promenades similar to the
one found at the Blanton Museum of Art. Imagine walking to class, going
underneath the large arches, and feeling the rays of sunlight peg you as you
dodge between the pillars of the arches. Sunlight mixed with the arches in
Spanish Mediterranean architecture provides a great light-dark contrast.
Mysterious shadows and silhouettes projected onto the promenade by the arches
give students 
variety
within the same building as the sun moves across the sky. As the sun rises and
sets, the shadows of the arches will change direction and move. This signifies
the moving of the students and the notion that the students have progressed
through the day and learned new things. Students at Stanford
University and Rice University
get to experience this feeling each and every day. My ideal college campus
would have a main quad similar those at Stanford and Rice. Benches would be placed alongside the corridors for
students to study or catch an afternoon nap. The changing shadows would
encourage students to use their time wisely. If this architecture were present
throughout the UT campus, students would be reminded often of their purpose at
the University of
Texas. The arches would
force students to reflect on why they have come to the University
of Texas at Austin and discover who they truly are. This
concept of self discovery is vital to a learning frame of mind.
To
bring students closer to nature, I propose that the university should focus on
landscaping the campus to match the architecture and to accent the bending
light. For instance, Steve Fuqua’s houses look attractive not only because of
the design and the simplicity of the stucco but also because of the
landscaping. Fuqua thoughtfully places plants and trees to accent the curves
and structure of the building. Likewise, because oak trees and small shrubs
tend to do well in Austin
weather, large, expansive oak trees would cover the quads on campus, similar to
the current south mall. In addition to foliage, my ideal master plan would
restrict vehicular transportation to the edges of campus to promote a more
unified campus. Having footpaths and sidewalks connecting buildings across
three or four large quads would be ideal. Rice University
is a perfect example of how architecture has been integrated with nature to not
only accent the buildings but to also bring the students back to nature. By
passing through nature to move from class to class, students will have to interact
with their environment and eventually gain a better appreciation for nature and
the buildings around them. Unlike the concrete and asphalt aesthetic of a
strip-mall, our campus would incorporate lush plant life and natural flourishes
to encourage mental growth. This crossing of the technical, structured left
brain with the visual right brain forges new meaning for students. Going back
to the basics and using architecture as a touchstone for nature, this ideal
campus would allow students to escape from the pressures of society, focus on
their studies, and discover who they are.
By
taking my desire for a Spanish Mediterranean master plan and applying it to the
virtual world of Second Life, I have expressed what I feel is the ideal
architecture for The University of Texas at Austin. The avatars in the program
have been able to truly experience the uniting power of Spanish Mediterranean
architecture. Based on the Blanton Museum of Art, the building features stucco
walls with intricate detailing in the designs. The main attribute of the
building is its large, ten-meter columns and open arches that span over three
meters. This feature of the building took most time to construct because of the
fine precision required for the arches and the grand high ceiling of the
walkway. However, this effort has not gone to waste as you can visualize the variations
in lighting and the shadows created as the sun moves across the sky. You can
also notice the similarities in the Spanish Mediterranean architecture of the
Tower and my building. Arches, stucco walls, and red-roofs can be found in both
buildings and represent the power of unity that Spanish Mediterranean
architecture has. Through this digital model, it is my hope that the Board of
Regents will elect to use Spanish Mediterranean architecture as the campus
master plan and take proactive steps in make the campus more united. The
ability of such architecture to create a strong sense of self-reflection and
understanding is advantageous for the university environment.
If my
ideal campus was applied to the University
of Texas at Austin, the admission documents of
prospective students making their way to 2400 Inner Campus Drive Austin,
Texas 78712
would pass through a campus of solely Spanish Mediterranean Architecture. A
Spanish Mediterranean master plan would give UT students a sense of community
that promotes learning and forces students to leave their stresses and worries
at the door. The simplicity of such architecture gives its occupants a sense of
calmness and relaxation. Through the use of colors, lights, and material,
Spanish Mediterranean architecture rids the mind of clutter and creates an
environment conducive to learning.
Total word count: 1,988
Word count without quotes: 1,936
