Notes in a (Formerly) Dark Park

Also featured in the Weekly Wire next week, Counterbalance Park in Lower Queen Anne proved an interesting place to visit with tripod and camera a week or so back. First, here's my Wire item; then a report of some strange nocturnal doings after the jump.

When the little park designed by Murase Associates opened at the corner of Queen Anne and Roy this July, I was not impressed. The unloved, gravel-covered site had previously been scraped of its gas station (with pollution still beneath) and sat on a highly trafficked and confusing intersection (yes, people, you can turn left onto a one-way street when the light is red). It mainly attracted street drunks clutching 40-ouncers. Yet the Uptown Alliance raised about half the $1.1 million budget for a makeover, with a lead gift of $225,000 from Raj and Akhil Shah of nearby fashion maven Shah Safari; the city supplied the balance. Suddenly the place was clean, presentable, and open with a ribbon-cutting appearance by Mayor Greg Nickels. For months, however, it seemed like nobody noticed or used the place. Wood planking, gravel, and low concrete benches edged in stainless steel do not invite kids or families to come and play. There is no fencing or barrier to keep children in (or cars out); but admittedly, there are hardly any kids in the condo cluster we call the LQA. The corner is mainly traversed by singletons heading to Chopstix or Peso's who, along with this passing grocery shopper, were suddenly struck by the multicolored lighting that recently appeared in the park. Designed by local artist Iole Alessandrini in conjunction with Murase, the tiny, programmable LEDs are still in their beta testing period. Part of the original park scheme, the tardy diodes now dramatically transform the two concrete slab walls that bound the park's north and west aspects. They become screens for the wavering, vertical, borealis-like glow. For canoodling couples parked on the darkened benches, the backdrop is now like a dispersed spectrum display: light pulled apart into its constituent parts. If more people would actually stop and use the place, it could become Seattle's best after-hours park.
Counterbalance Park, 2 Roy St., www.seattle.gov/parks. Free. 4 a.m.-11:30.

When I spoke to the city parks department, and a designer at Murase, both were somewhat apologetic about the long delay in getting the lights turned on. There may or may not be some sort of (second) public opening on or around Dec. 6. Or maybe Christmas or New Year's. The problem has been getting the LED controllers ordered and working. It's a somewhat new technology in the U.S. "We're still programming it," said a Murase architect. Not that I'm complaining, since the lighting display—now a vertical prism array—should be able to shift and change at the click of a mouse. Who knows—perhaps the city parks department will invite the public to dream up designs for the tiny diodes to emit.

Since taking the photo before the jump, the lights have been working intermittently (and, oddly, running during the daytime). Also, there are some standard lighting poles in the center of the park that have yet to be hooked up. Thus, apart from the illuminated concrete walls, the place is quite dark, revealing figures in silhouette, like the snuggling couple below:

One night while passing by, I watched as a couple practiced tap dancing on the hard wooden planks. Cars obliviously whooshed by them; only few other pedestrians stopped to watch. It looked—or at least sounded—like they had real tap shoes. But part of what made the scene so charming was that they existed only in outline against the colorful wall. They were both audible and yet somewhat fanciful, like animation come to life.

Later, as I set up my tripod, a furtive couple darted into the middle of the park, crouched down to deposit something—no, not what you're thinking—then stood watching the results for a while before leaving. I didn't have a flash with me, and I wasn't sure I wanted to intrude on their seemingly private moment, so I want over later to peer at the mysterious ring on the dark gravel.

It consisted of a circle of ruby-red sparkled shoes, mostly what appeared to be in childrens' sizes, arrayed around a toy rocket. The whole arrangement was maybe three feet in diameter, quite invisible from the sidewalk. Whether it was some kind of ephemeral art installation, or part of a nighttime scavenger hunt, I have no idea. (Dammit—why did I leave that flash at the office?)

So: tap dancing and spontaneous art installations. How many other Seattle parks can say that? Maybe it's the new lighting that's inspiring people.

Topics: Visual Arts

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