From an interior design perspective, toilets are pretty interesting. Often they seem quite aesthetically removed from the larger building of which they are a part, and I propose that this is no accident. For most people, the practise of using public toilets is uncomfortable due to a perceived lack of privacy, the awkward juxtaposition of public location and private endeavour. What better way to nullify this discomfort than by designing such utilities so as to make them seem distant from their wider setting? About quarter of an hour ago, I had the pleasure of visiting a water closet which showcased this concept almost perfectly.
Just presently, I am sitting in St George's Church. It is not really a church at all, but a lecture theatre. Once a place of reverent worship and stunning architecture, it is now a nauseating celebration of the colour magnolia. The stained glass windows that run along the top of the magnolia walls are hidden behind large, magnolia curtains. The ceiling, also, is magnolia. Very big, very boring. Half cathedral, half retirement home sitting room.
But the toilets. Oh, the toilets.
I've attended lectures here at least twice a week for the last year of my life, and only this morning I visited the men's bathroom for the first time. They are a whispered secret, a hidden treasure.
The lighting is warm and dim, the walls a mysterious aquamarine. It's like looking up into the distant canopy of a deep, lush forest, or being alone and underwater. Perhaps it is like being in love. The following quote comes to mind:
Another very good Sheffield University toilet can be found downstairs in the Stephenson building, but that's another story for another day.
Sometimes people say that they like blog because it does not take a very long time to read. I have spoken for a while about going to the toilet.
Goodbye.
Just presently, I am sitting in St George's Church. It is not really a church at all, but a lecture theatre. Once a place of reverent worship and stunning architecture, it is now a nauseating celebration of the colour magnolia. The stained glass windows that run along the top of the magnolia walls are hidden behind large, magnolia curtains. The ceiling, also, is magnolia. Very big, very boring. Half cathedral, half retirement home sitting room.
But the toilets. Oh, the toilets.
I've attended lectures here at least twice a week for the last year of my life, and only this morning I visited the men's bathroom for the first time. They are a whispered secret, a hidden treasure.
The lighting is warm and dim, the walls a mysterious aquamarine. It's like looking up into the distant canopy of a deep, lush forest, or being alone and underwater. Perhaps it is like being in love. The following quote comes to mind:
"For twenty-three years he had remained celibate and heart-whole; land bound. Now for the first time he was far from shore, submerged among deep waters, below wind and tide, where huge trees raised their spongy flowers and monstrous things without fur or feather, wing or foot, passed silently, in submarine twilight. A lush place."
Evelyn Waugh - ScoopNo joke - the whole experience genuinely reminded me of that passage. The walls had this kind of dark green panelling on them which added a subtle depth and quiet liveliness to the overall experience. It was a little unfamiliar, and yet wonderfully comfortable; the overall feeling was one of being hidden. My words can only do so much justice to such immersive design. If you live in Sheffield, let me urge you to undertake similar ventures for yourself.
Another very good Sheffield University toilet can be found downstairs in the Stephenson building, but that's another story for another day.
Sometimes people say that they like blog because it does not take a very long time to read. I have spoken for a while about going to the toilet.
Goodbye.
