I did my garden history graduate studies in Bristol, hometown of Banksy, whose latest provocation in Gaza has just magically appeared: the dream of a playscape in a warzone. It reminded me of the image of a kid-constructed rope swing from a damaged lightpost in bombed-out London, c. 1943. “Play is Freedom”.
For #TBT my friend Chris sent me this amazing photo of Marilyn Monroe on a playground merry-go-round, reading Ulysses. I think an entire novel could be written from just those three elements. The question “Why Ulysses?” has been asked, but no one has queried “Why a playground?” Maybe because it matched her romper.
I’m always intrigued by the work of MUF Architecture/Art, a rare female-led studio in London..their work is subtle, but always inspires me to new thoughts about play. Look at how their ‘play blanket’ on the ground busts the traditional playground boundary fence, and how their benches and teeter-totters do, too.
While the narrative elements of MUF’s play design aren’t as overt as, say, Monstrum’s, I particularly like their creation of relics, both historic and fictitious, to add imagination. In Camden, they put a water feature with an ornate historic-style mask right at the child’s level, and surrounded a tree with scrolly ironwork borrowed from London’s Victorian past.
MUF’s use of of ‘ruins’, remnants of walls, in the landscape, is particularly inspiring. Another firm might have torn down the old brick walls that surrounded the trash bins… but MUF knew that adding a platform and some fenestrations would make it a theatre. They call this building on ‘marginalized’ play opportunities, and I’m inspired by it! Look around at your playscape this winter morning and think about what ‘marginalized’ play opportunities you can bring to the fore.
“All of us are children at heart—or were children and have forgotten it. The child in us can respond to the piece.” Mark di Suvero, Grand Rapids Press, 1977
Sculptor Mark di Suvero‘s bold, exploding abstract sculptures are in some 50 cities worldwide. Though massive, they move; some components can be set in motion by a firm hand or just the wind. But for Grand Rapids, Michigan whose city motto means ‘strength through activity’, di Suvero designed one of his most playful works, ‘Motu Viget’, enlivened by the addition of a giant tire swing that has become a favorite of the community.
I like that the tire swing is big enough to hold a crowd (communal play!) and that it quite naturally allows increasing levels of risk-taking: images of children on the swing typically show them seated in its interior, while teens and adults tend to stand either inside the swing or (even riskier!) on top of it. One of di Suvero’s characteristic H-beams, set on a perfectly calibrated slant, is readily interpreted by children as a slide without shouting “playground!”…a subtle approach to playability that more public space installations should adopt. There is no safety surfacing underneath, which I hope never changes. That dirt has been just fine since 1977, thankyouverymuch.
“i had a dream that i had to drive to madison
to deliver a painting for some silly reason
i took a wrong turn and ended up in michigan
paul baribeau took me to the giant tire swing
gave me a push and he started singing
i sang along while i was swinging
the sound of our voices made us forget
everything that had ever hurt our feelings”
Kimya Dawson, “Tire Swing” song, from the movie Juno.
[maquette image from the Smithsonian, other images via grandrapidpress. See also the kerfuffle over a di Suvero swing sculpture on NYC’s Governor’s Island that was altered because children’s play on it was ‘too exuberant’. Because what we all want is non-exuberant play, right? Sheesh.]
And while I was hard at work in the lab, at some point the blog quietly ticked over 3,000,000 page views. Wow, thanks! Really, I am humbled by the trust you’ve placed in me the last seven years to host this conversation about great design for play, and what that looks like and how we can achieve it.
This might be a good time to remind my practitioner readers that if you’ve been featured on the blog already you can join the provider’s directory…so that people can find you once you’re no longer on the blog’s front page! Even if you don’t need the publicity, if Playscapes matters to how you conduct your work, please consider supporting it in this way, since the growth of the blog means that it now costs me about $1000 a month to run, not including my own time writing and coordinating.
Thanks again, to everyone, for being here. Let’s translate those three million page views into innovative, beautiful, and inclusive spaces for play!
Thanks to artist Laura Marotta for submitting her octagon shelter/playhouse, “a simple wooden and steel structure that makes use of shifting panels and components to allow the viewer to activate its functionality and modify its shape. The wooden shell is detailed with handles, hinges, latches, door stoppers and wheels, where swinging, pulling, opening and closing the panels allows for a range of seating options, shapes and views.”
I’m always hoping playground installations will become more moveable and flexible, and I love how the octagon shelter invokes those ideas! Laura’s more static octahedral installations are also quite climbable and playful; I’d love to see them on the playground.
Editors Note: With this post, I’m pleased to welcome Tim Gill to Playscapes! Tim is one of the UK’s leading thinkers on childhood. For over 15 years his writing, research, consultancy projects and other work has focused on the changing nature of childhood, children’s play and free time, and their evolving relationships with the people and places around them. He has been a uniquely effective advocate for a re-evaluation of how we consider risk in the lives of children, and thanks to the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation his book “No Fear: Growing up in a Risk Averse Society” is available in its entirety for free…download it now from the blog sidebar! Tim also takes me to great playgrounds whenever I’m in London, and organized 2012′s “Open for Play” event. We’ll start with reposting some of his most popular writings from his own website, rethinkingchildhood, which my readers may not have seen.
And now here’s Tim:
This post has a simple aim: to get you to rethink playground safety. Through a handful of images of playgrounds from around the world, I hope to encourage you to abandon any preconceived notions you may have about what a safe playground looks like.
I focus on unsupervised, public play spaces. The kind of spaces that are routinely built and rebuilt, in their hundreds of thousands, every year, for children around the world.
This focus is deliberate. Yes, some staffed adventure playgrounds truly challenge our notions about risk in play. But they are a different model, with their high fences, restricted opening hours and attentive, engaged staff. Their approach to safety is a subject for another time. Likewise, school play spaces raise different questions again, and are not included here.
To be absolutely clear: what follows is not a collection of great play spaces – indeed some are, in design terms, disappointing. It is a provocation: a set of images that challenges received wisdom. Read more…
Apologies for the slowdown in posting while I try to change the world with nanotechnology. Seriously great things in the lab at the moment, but I’ll be back with more playgrounds (and my backlog of your emails and submissions!) starting tomorrow. Thanks for your understanding!}
It’s quite common to see cars and trucks or even tractors carved out of wood on the playground, but it stopped me in my tracks to see these stacked stone constructions! I think kids would really enjoy climbing on these. And it’s a wonderful way to involve local craftspeople in designing for play. [found at the stoneartblog]
Sculptor Nancy Rubins arranges discarded playground equipment into exploding forms. She’s currently working in post-war metal pieces, like spring riders…I’d love to see this idea expanded into the decaying plastic forms of the 1980s. [ ‘Our Friend Fluid Metal, Chunkus Majoris’, 2013. Aluminum and stainless steel. © Nancy Rubins. Photography by Robert McKeever.]
I always enjoy the work of London-based Superblue Design….here a very playful fence that morphs into seating and a gate for Deptford Park in London.
Unattributed, mysterious sculpture at the University of the Phillipines in Diliman. Beautiful photography by Dan Matutina, via flickr in the first photograph; the second, by city tales, shows that the sculpture once had a sandpit alongside. An additional photo by Chris Villarin shows a higher but complementary slide, and they are nearby the university’s College of Architecture, so perhaps a mid-century student experiment in play sculpture and concrete construction? Inspired by Egon Moller-Nielsen? If you have any additional information, do help solve the mystery.
Editor’s Note: I’m pleased to welcome play historian and expert Susan Solomon’s second column here at Playscapes. In it, she challenges our overblown ‘fear of strangers’, and the limitations that fear places on how we design and use places for play. Key quote: ” If we see the playground as a potentially vibrant public space, then we have to rethink what it looks like and who goes there”
Watch for a permanent place for all of Susan’s “After the Deadline” columns in the blog sidebar coming soon! For now, read on…
How Strange are our Dangers? How Dangerous are Strangers?
by Susan Solomon
I have vivid memories of the trip my husband (who is also my trusted photographer) and I made to the Princes Diana Playground in Hyde Park, London. The playground opened in 2000 and we made our way there in 2004. It was a bleak, bitterly cold December morning, just after the opening hour. There were no children anywhere. We walked up to a high gate and heard from an anonymous voice (with hindsight, the camera and speaker system were stunningly advanced for a decade ago) that we could not enter without a child.
The faceless gate did not want to hear that I had a contract to write a book about playgrounds and that this was a professional visit. No kids meant no access. I was that told that somewhere- quite far away-I could appeal the judgment but we were actually headed to the airport. We settled for walking around the perimeter; my spouse took copious photos by placing his close up lens through the bars of the fence.
There are so many levels of silliness in this type of “protective” activity. There were no children present; I had credentials; my husband could have documented every inch of the site if he had some nefarious activity in mind. Annoyed, not offended, I recall this non-visit almost every time that I go to an urban public American playground. While British colleagues tell me that the Diana playground is an aberration for the UK because it is a Royal Park that has its own rules, American urban playgrounds often have at least one sign on a fence that tells me I can come in only if I have a child in tow. New York City, for example, has park rules that create playground zones, where a child under twelve yeas old must accompany an adult.
It seems almost diabolical to question policy that presumes to shield youngsters from kidnappers and predators. And, yet, we should ask if isolating playgrounds from the rest of the world is really necessary. Is it productive to relegate playgrounds to just children and their caregivers/parents? Fear of strangers surely exists but is “stranger danger” justified? Read more…
Just a housekeeping note that this week we’ll be adding our Playscapes correspondents’ posts into the email feed so that you get all the posts in one place…hiccups may arise!}
Another Aztec-inspired playscape is Collette Crutcher’s Quetzalcoatl: one of the most beautiful examples of playground mosaic that I know. The feathered snake of the Aztec twists and turns through a small pocket park at 24th and York in San Francisco, mirrored eyes gleaming, dodging water jets as it goes. The safety surfacing was required for the installation, but in this case I think the designers did an admirable job of connecting the coloring and and pattern to the art, particularly via a build-up of the snake’s tongue. [photos via the San Francisco Chronicle and Collette Crutcher.]