Liz Loves

Sometimes hidden, always pretty things

by Liz Uzelac

Friday April 28, 2006

Housing and classroom arrangements here at Sarah Lawrence—we live where we learn—are indeed poetic. It has long been said that the architecture of Sadie Lou represents what the school stands for—independent thinking and interdependent learning—and is not a result of a lack of geographical space or a rather meager endowment.

I entirely agree with this sentiment, as well as the way in which it is architecturally and spatially expressed throughout our campus. But, come on, we’re about more than just thinking and learning here. We’re also about life, love, adventure, nostalgia and—let’s be honest—pretty things.

Secret Passageways
As far as adventure goes, rarely is there a prospect more enticing than a secret. More specifically, a secret passageway. Ever watched “Webster?” Ever dreamt of shimmying along an illicit underground tunnel?
The terrifically Tudor and oh-so-enchanted buildings of Sarah Lawrence are here to address these concerns. Wooden paneled doors are concealed everywhere and several buildings still have dumbwaiters. Tweed even has a secret* staircase. These broken-down, nonfunctioning mementos-from-a-better-time may not be the Cabinet War Rooms, but a good dumbwaiter can, with a little effort, lift anyone’s spirits.

Stone Arches
Evocative of The Secret Garden, Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, Wind in the Willows and every other British children’s story I’ve ever read and loved, the stone arches of our campus make me feel, well, like I exist. Not even the half-timbering of the old dorms can beat perching beneath a stone arch, cuddling with a sweetie, restructuring your conference paper or simply ‘writing what you know.’

Ivy
Who could guess that one sneaky little vine could have such power over me? But it’s true, I’m a sucker for ivy. Not so much the Princeton or Harvard kind; a very specific regional strain of the plant appeals to me—the socially conscious, barefoot-walking, fiercely independent ivy that registers to vote and doesn’t wear a bra. That’s the kind I want covering my buildings forever and always. Onward and upward little vines; here’s to the times we’ve shared and the places we’ll grow. I mean, go.

*meaning I wish it were a secret.