Fairview Library looks like other concrete-heavy TPL branches built in the 1970′s, such as York Woods (1970), Albert Campbell (1971), and Albion (1973). Some folks might shy away from Brutalist architecture, but I really liked the solid unpretentiousness of Fairview’s interior. It was like sailing on the deck of a freighter ship, its hold packed with international literary cargo.
It could be my Midwestern sensibility that pushed me to find beauty in Fairview’s jolie laide building. If Carl Sandburg were alive, I think he would write a poem about it. And if he didn’t feel like doing that, he could at least marvel at the diverse languages represented at the branch: Arabic, Armenian, Chinese, French, Gujarati, Korean, Persian, Romanian, Russian, Spanish, Tagalog, Tamil, Turkish, and Urdu.
I admired the intense energy of Fairview. On my previous visit, I wrote: “Every chair was taken, every table space utilized, its two levels humming with life — study groups, individuals in private study rooms, newspaper readers, and family groups. A truly vibrant branch — to visit it is to be inspired by all those patrons following their dreams.”
Every single study room was spoken for during my first trip to Fairview, and this time I could only find one free study room to photograph. Despite being an older district branch under pressure from so many enthusiastic patrons, Fairview still managed to offer these pockets of serenity.
As I walked by the occupied rooms, I noticed how each inhabitant seemed to take full physical ownership of his or her study haven. Positive possession radiated in the air inside their glass doors (and a few feet outside of them). Bent over their work, the studious patrons’ body language said: “This quiet scholarly homestead is mine and I’ve earned it!” There was no need for keep-out signs, for who would want to disturb such private intensity?
After I admired the work ethic of the study room occupants, I raised my eyes to an immense ceiling. In my view, the exposed ducts added active interest and grubby industrial chic to the atmosphere. They presided over the plants, patrons, and shelves with matter-of-fact grandeur.
Sheltering in the northeast corner of the mighty Fairview vessel was Noah’s Ark II. As I approached the ark to take its picture, I could hear some voices coming from the interior of the boat. I couldn’t see anybody at first, but when I got close enough to photograph the animal porthole portraits, I discovered two teenagers scrunched up together against the hull working on a school assignment. (It was really clever of Noah to stock his ark with two flirtatious teens).
Not far from the ark, I spied some colourful books about Chinese New Year and hurried to check them out so I wouldn’t be late for my class. The disembodied hand on the Express Check-Out screen pointed to the larger world outside this welcoming concrete fortress of learning.
