Summary of, and commentary on, Part III of Andreas Kluth’s special report.
Summary:
Kluth examines how the new nomadism has affected architecture, citing examples of specific nomadic workspaces. The phrase “third place” is defined, and the history of its manifestations is traced from 1989 (when the phrase was first coined) to the present. One major challenge facing contemporary third spaces is techno-isolation, to which many “third spaces” have responded by proving more opportunities for human interaction. The effects of third spaces on city planning and traffic patterns is analyzed.
Random Thoughts:
According to Kluth, the new nomadism has strongly affected the creation of new architecture, which makes me worry just a little when I look around our beautiful building, which was built in 1895. For the moment, it passes the William Morris test in that it’s both useful AND beautiful. It’s also a historic landmark, so there’s no danger that it’s going anywhere anytime soon (whew). But, as a third space, can our library remain competitive with new creations specifically designed for a new culture?
Take, for example, the notion (which I did not know, and I’d love to see the research) that “people working on laptops find it comforting to have their backs to a wall.” Could that really be the make or break function for whether or not somebody might choose to use the library? If you’ve been Googling or searching databases all afternoon, and you still can’t find what you’re looking for, do you care if your back is to the wall, or do you want to be where you can find what you’re looking for? That being said, if a space can be altered so that it’s a more amenable environment, why not try it?
In terms of what our patrons seem to need and want, space-wise, here are some random thoughts and observations:
- Pittsburghers love long tables. The more they can spread out, the better. The few study carrels we have are used far less frequently. I’d scrap them in favor of more long tables, or large round ones, which are also popular.
- Computer users on our floor would rather sit down than stand up. If it were up to me, I’d transform the six “express” terminals into 60-minute sit-down workstations. Hardly anyone chooses to the 30-minute stand-ups, even when all the sit-down slots are filled.
- Quiet spaces are still important to many folks. I think the most embarrassing moment of my career to date was when I was shushed by a patron while enthusiastically explaining to another patron how to use one of our databases. And the two quiet reading rooms in the south wing are steadily populated, even when the main room is not.
- The encyclopedia island should probably be in the front of the room rather than in the back. We get a lot of students from the nearby high schools and universities, and their teachers–bless them–still give assignments that require print encyclopedias. Ergo, front and center!
- Shelf labels for the reference section might be a good idea. We have a lot of books lining the walls, and they’re only designated by call number. This works for people doing focused searches for specific reference books, but what about casual browsers?
- Our reference desk is still a huge, intimidating barrier. I’d love to see the two wings on a slant, with space for people to walk around and behind us., with the computer signup island remaining in the middle, and the “Ask A Librarian” sign between us. All the better to dance around!
That’s all I can think of off the top of my head, for the moment. Objections? Spatial factors I hadn’t considered?
As for traffic patterns, I’m in favor of anything that would make Oakland more parkable, beginning with more bike racks for the public and ending with telecommuting (an alchemist can dream). Like many bookstores and other third places, the library offers lots of programming; the problem is, it’s tough for people to take advantage of it because it’s hard to find someplace to park (and we’re only open until 8, but that’s another issue for another day). I’m not sure how much we can do about that, and if that’s out of our control, how should we adjust our programming strategies to take advantage of an inflexible reality?
One objection that comes up whenever issues like these are raised is the argument that the library as we know it is vanishing. Some people feel very strongly that this is a bad thing; I’m a little more confident about our ability to preserve what’s worth keeping while still making room for new perspectives. As long as we continue to use solid criteria to select our materials, does it really matter if we choose to arrange them in a more aesthetically pleasing fashion than we have heretofore? As long as library staff observe the ALA code of ethics, does it matter if we all come to different conclusions about whether or not we want food / coffee / cell phones, etc. in our respective libraries, or how we arrange the furniture, or whether or not it’s comfy-squooshy? As long as libraries retain their committment to taking care of things that are big issues for librarians, we can agree to disagree on the ones that are, ultimately, smaller in terms of our missions, but bigger in the minds of our patrons. In other words, most of the audience doesn’t want to know how the magicians do their tricks. They just want a good show.
Too radical? Perhaps. But that’s how we get anywhere in life – by pushing the envelope, trying the back door when the front door is locked, putting ideas out there, and taking risks.
More Kluth on Thursday.