On illustrating architecture

[Image: A scene from "Willa's Wonderland"].

As interesting for its form as for its content, the project pictured here is something called "Willa's Wonderland," a one-off urban design comic strip set on the urban fringes of Atlanta by LOOMstudio and Amy Landesberg Architects, in collaboration with artist John Grider and writer Julia Klatt-Singer.
I've always thought that comic books – in fact, entire graphic novels – are an underused graphic resource for communicating architectural and urban design ideas, so it's exciting to see that this project more or less puts that statement to the test.

[Image: A scene from "Willa's Wonderland"].

In a nutshell, it attempts to relay a series of thoughts about how the Atlanta Beltline could be put to better use, and to do so through the narrative structure of a comic strip.

[Image: A scene from "Willa's Wonderland"].

It suggests that the Beltline "must include supportive connections to neighborhoods along the way and a pathway filled with wonder." It is this pathway filled with wonder on which a young girl, Willa, quietly walking.

[Images: Scenes from "Willa's Wonderland"].

The designers write:

As a visionary collaborative model, we have constructed an idealized world in the representational form of a comic book. We were motivated to select a form of communication that would provide a platform for a writer, two artists and a gaggle of architects. We were able to work together by carrying forward our individual strengths to form a new synthetic vision. Though we are also aware of the comic nature of all idealized vision, this did not prevent us from joyful and serious forward progress.

Some of the ideas put forward are a Sound Field, a Mind Garden, a Bike Forum, and the Cinema Paradise.

[Images: Scenes from "Willa's Wonderland"].

Further:

Thinking of our comic book as a model for reality, we know every community needs a vehicle that joins and carries many voices, many visions and many hands. These must be carried forth with human perspective in the context of actual human experience. Large projects are often developed in cities where rational economic and executive force usurps human comfort, practicality and beauty. Bird’s-eye planning rarely addresses human perspective from the street. Every city has need for humane stories, woven into the fabric of daily life and the places that nurture and inspire.

Fundamentally, though, I want to come back to the idea that comic strips are a legitimate narrative vehicle for the communication of architectural ideas. I can't help but wonder how interesting it would be if, say, Sin City had been produced with Delirious New York-era Rem Koolhaas as its architectural consultant – or if all the action had taken place inside buildings designed by Minsuk Cho or Andrew Maynard or FAT.
Or, not even going that far, if Richard Rogers hired an illustrator – if he hired Geof Darrow – to present all of his projects in one 225-page graphic novel, complete with plot, how much more interesting might studying architecture be?
You see vast airports and multi-million pound London flats and train stations and private homes and art museums, and people come wandering through.
By the end of the book you've seen every single project Richard Rogers has designed – and you didn't need to buy some $300 hardcover retrospective to do so.

[Images: Scenes from "Willa's Wonderland"].

In any case, I've uploaded all of the "Willa's Wonderland" images – in their original, legible size – to a Flickr set; but be sure to check out the project website, where you can read the storyboards and check out more credits for the creative team behind it all.

(Originally spotted at Super Colossal).