I haven't been by recently to scream into the abyss about cartoon cars, so here goes. A post from Joe Rohde's Instagram on the importance of stories that I thought was cool. Can't get the post to embed without a lot of extra text but the picture of the door is on his Instagram:
Narrative placemaking is basically reverse forensics. A lot can be said in a very small space by paying proper attention to the relationship of details. Let’s take this small section of a door at Swayambunath.
First of all, we can see that this door exists in some kind of building that is old. The style of it is old. The brick shows some signs of wear.
The building must’ve existed before there was electricity because the electricity is obviously jerryrigged to enter the building through a drilled hole in the door frame.
There is some kind of anointment at the top of the door. Something more than just paint …not a horseshoe, but the same idea …some kind of little protective amulet thingy. So we know that there is some belief in something beyond the material world related to this door.
We also know that this door exists in a commercial world because there is a Coca-Cola sticker. A second much more faded sticker on the door itself advertises coffee. The combination of these suggests that even though there is no marquee of any kind on the other side of this door is probably some kind of shop or café.
There is a lock. Which suggests that there is some concern that there are people who need to be locked out when the owner is not there.
We know that there might be monkeys nearby because there’s a faded old sign for monkey chow. (Never buy it! Never use it.) Presumably this sign is made by the owner, and we can sense something about the owners aesthetic sentiments from the quality of the sign.
Now this is a real door in the real world. But if you expect to design places and get people to accept them as seeming real. You have to do all this. You have to provide reasons inside of the story world for why things look the way they are so that nothing looks the way it looks because a designer thinks that might be nice. That’s our lesson for today.
I like this, and think it applies to other types of placemaking. Narrative details are very likely going to be lost on me but I notice a lot about the feeling of places. I think emotional cues could be analyzed similarly. You walk into a park and your gaze, in most cases, is immediately drawn upwards, which has a subtle feeling tone to it. It's a little sun salutation, if you will. There's "The Architecture of Reassurance" all around. There are Norman Rockwell-esque nostalgic images that pull on a very particular heartstring for many people (and a note, lest that sound sort of insular - I'd be happy to have joyous, images from other cultures, like a Coco village). There are glimmers of things you can see bits of in the distance, corners you can't quite see around, that invite a feeling of curiosity. There are pathways that naturally invite you to walk, move forward, when your usual predisposition might be to flop down on the couch and scroll through your phone. There are shop windows that catch your attention as you go, with interesting and delightful little curiosities inside. Maybe there's a fountain that jumps playfully and invites your mirror neurons to do the same. Etc.
My worry with Cars is that I just don't see what the story - narratively, emotionally - is supposed to be. Why are we transported to the land of cartoon Cars? Why do we
want to be? What happens when we get there, other than someone puts us in a ride car and then lets us out? I don't think the vast majority of the area is even walkable, it seems like it will just be get on the ride, get off the ride.
Ok, so, that completes my semi regular abyss scream.