Mounding Part II: Trash Urbanism (or Top of the Bottom)

Map of Cahokia mound complex from National Geographic.

Map of Cahokia mound complex from National Geographic.

Cahokia Mound settlement sits 9 miles to the northeast of St. Louis, MO (6 miles to the northeast of East St. Louis, IL). While the area was settled in the 7th century CE, mound construction started about 200 years later.  This complex of 120 mounds (now 80) sits in the fertile floodplains of the mighty Mississippi in a territory known as the American Bottom. In this context, Cahokia’s largest mound, Monk’s Mound, is surpassed in height and volume only by the Milam Landfill (also known as Mount Trashmore) in East St. Louis. Only sometime in the last 40 years did this trash heap overtake Monk’s Mound. Was there a ribbon cutting ceremony when this 20th century trash-made mound finally overtook the man-made 9th century one? Given the slow demolition of East St. Louis since the 1960s, we might wonder what material percentage of the modern city was sacrificed to achieve the title of tallest mound in the American Bottom. Could Milam Landfill now be christened Top of the Bottom?

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Just as Cahokia was being settled, 300 years or so before Monk’s Mound was built, other mounds such as those at Crystal River, FL were built of oyster shells. These forms seem intentionally built to serve as temple platforms, but perhaps more interesting were those nearby made of waste (middens) which slowly, maybe unwittingly, came to define different zones within the complex:  a prehistoric form of trash urbanism.

Monte Testaccio in Rome at the turn of the century.

Monte Testaccio in Rome at the turn of the century.

Of course the Romans had their own mountain of trash, Monte Testaccio. What started around 50 CE as a storage heap for discarded amphorae used to ship oil across the sea grew into a hulking ceramic mountain. The material properties of this mounded, fired earth would later be rediscovered when wine caves were excavated into the bottom of the hill, tapping its cool constant temperature for distribution to the drinking establishments that would ring its perimeter.

Caught somewhere between archaeology, geology, and scatology, these mounds pose an earthy challenge to how we live with, on, or in, the past.

For more on Monte Testaccio and what it offers for contemporary landfills, see Michael Ezban’s “The Trash Heap of History.” For more on the agency of the past contained in such living heaps see Jennifer Scappettone’s “Garbage Arcadia: Digging for Choruses in Fresh Kills,” in Terrain Vague: Interstices at the Edge of the Pale.

Satisfying a bonus obsession, an exquisite visitor’s center site model of the Cahokia Mounds transforms the amorphous ambiguity of earthen form into crisply rendered bronze geometry:

Site model at the Cahokia Mounds Interpretive Center

Site model at the Cahokia Mounds Interpretive Center

 

What Goes Around (almost) Comes Around: Imperfect Circles

It serves me right. After warning many a student of the dangers of the circle as a design trope, I realize that the circle has now found its way into several of our recent projects. I still believe my beef with the circle is legit. The circle plays nice with no one, not even its own kin. Fuller’s Dymaxion House refuses to accept additions, twinnings, or groupings without appearing just plain awkward.

But a degenerate circle, this is a thing of beauty–disintegrated, degraded, deformed, opened to the influence of the outside world in one way or another–the idealism of perfect geometry tempered by the specificity of the material world or the necessities of use and inhabitation. And perhaps the simplicity of the circle’s geometry is most appropriate when used to register precisely these forces of the world which refuse to conform to such simplicity or symmetry.

The open circle of the Great Blue Hole, Lighthouse Reef, Belize, an inspiration for Radical Craft's Soms Atoll proposal.

The open circle of the Great Blue Hole, Lighthouse Reef, Belize, an inspiration for Radical Craft’s Soms Atoll proposal.

Water pools complementing the simple geometry of the Tevetron Collider at Fermilab in Batavia, IL.

Water pools complementing the simple geometry of the Tevetron Collider at Fermilab in Batavia, IL.

The radial porosity of the Trajan's Hollow plaster floor cast, a cross-sectional index of the asymmetries of the original Trajan's Column.

The radial porosity of the Trajan’s Hollow plaster floor cast, a cross-sectional index of the asymmetries of the original Trajan’s Column.

Trickle Up panel discussion in Chicago

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As part of the After the City, the City discussions, Joshua G. Stein will moderate Trickle Up: The Scale of Water in Chicago with Iker Gil. This series focused on water issues is organized by the Chicago Expander program at Archeworks and Joshua Stein, in collaboration with Skidmore, Owings & Merrill LLP and the Chicago Architecture Foundation.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013 6:00pm, Chicago Architecture Foundation

Panelists: Claire Cahan, Studio Gang; Phil Enquist, FAIA, Partner in Charge of Urban Design and Planning, Skidmore,  Owings & Merrill LLP; Martin Felsen, Principal of UrbanLab; Antonio Petrov, Assistant Professor at UTSA’s College of Architecture and Co-Director of the Chicago Expander program at Archeworks; Frances Whitehead, Civic practice artist and Professor at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

After the City,  the City: www.afterthecity.org

Chicago Expander at Archeworks: www.archeworks.org/chicagoexpander