April 11: Downtown Excursion

            Professor Bump just instructed all thirty of us to lie down under the rotunda of the capitol.  I love this class.  We all lie down as the various onlookers (tourists and security guards) watch, puzzled.  Some even try to lie down next to us.  While amusing, we aren’t here to become the center of attention.  No, our job is the exact opposite.  We are to disregard ourselves and focus all of our attention on the building.

            My first impression upon lying down is the vastness of this room.  The dome must be at least one hundred feet above us.  My second reaction is to ask whether my eyes are going bad or not.  It’s a peculiar thing, but the circular levels leading up to the dome at the top are not concentric.  They are slightly out of alignment with each other.  Why is that?  Is that some sort of architectural statement, or just an anomaly of trying to create an efficient building?  I’d guess that there is some purpose.  Maybe it is to remind us when we look up that our path to the heavens, or greatness, will not be perfect.  There will be difficulties along the way.

            The next thing I notice is the overbearing white plaster walls of this building.  They seem to be very plain to me.  Even the details of the fancy columns with their gilded features are absorbed into the white plaster walls.  I remember visiting the US capitol building once.  I remember being amazed while standing in a rotunda much like this one, except for one important difference.  The rotunda of the US capitol has a mural encircling the entire thing depicting a history of the founding of our nation.  This rotunda has nothing of the sort.  Instead we are met with the faces of all of the past governors of the state of Texas.  They are all looking into the center, at us, seeming to be focusing their power in the people that walk through this building.  These people, as they walk through this area, walk across the six flags that have flown over the state of Texas.  The governors and the flags all serve to remind us of our past while the vast rotunda reminds us of the infinite possibilities of the future.

            We left the capitol building to travel to St. Mary’s cathedral.  While exhibiting many features of gothic architecture (the many layered entrance, gothic windows, two asymmetrical towers, etc.), it lacked the character in the details of gothic architecture.  The entrance has many stone layers like the entrance to many gothic cathedrals, but it lacks the intricate stonework that gothic cathedrals are known for.  Maybe we should call this American gothic – imitation in form, but not in detail.

            Despite the lack of detail, once I entered St. Mary’s cathedral, I knew that the builders did do one thing right.  I was hit with an immediate emotional response of awe & reverence upon entering the sanctuary.  I knew from the building alone that this was a place of solemn worship.  The high ceilings, stained glass windows and secluded altar reminded me of my smallness.  This is something I don’t get when I go to the University Catholic Church.  No, instead, I just feel like I am in a big classroom, to learn about Jesus from the priest’s sermon.  This church doesn’t need a sermon.  It has its high ceilings, beautiful stained glass windows and elaborate altar to teach.  There were many people in here besides us in quiet prayer.  Why did these people come to church to pray quietly?  You can pray when you are driving down the highway.  Maybe it’s the place then.  Maybe they feel something about this place that makes them feel closer to God.  I don’t ever see people in the UCC when I walk by it outside of normal church hours.  That place just doesn’t have the same feeling to it.

            Our third stop on the downtown tour is the Driskill Hotel.  It is one of the oldest Victorian buildings in downtown Austin.  If I could describe this hotel using only one word, it would be ‘Texan.’  While St. Mary’s cathedral reminded me of something greater than myself and the state capitol reminded me of our proud past and prosperous future, the Driskill had only one purpose.  It reminded me of the original spirit of Texas.  The sculpture of the two cowboys captures this quite well.  One cowboy had fallen off his horse but with his boot stuck in the saddle and was being dragged.  The second cowboy has a rifle aimed at the horse in order to save the man’s life.  People say that Texas is the state of the rugged individual.  I’d like to say rather that Texas is the state of rugged community. 

            Other items in the Driskill reminded me of our state’s rich past.  There was a painting that I particularly liked.  It was of a Longhorn in front of several trees and a cowboy standing in a field, looking straight into the Longhorn’s eye with a rope in his hand.  The cowboy was alone, trying to capture the Longhorn.  When I looked at that painting, I developed a deep found respect for the cowboy and for the Longhorn as well.  Both were just trying to survive and both needed each other in order to do that.

            The more I examine architecture and my surroundings through semiotics, I realize that while the immediate importance of a place is its function, the importance it will have hundreds of years from now will be in how the place makes a person feel about the past.  The buildings we examined in Austin today have done that quite well.  While still maintaining their function, they serve the even greater purpose of affecting us, who take the time to examine and experience.