Object Permanence

Dealing with Decay at Cal Poly SLO’s Architecture Graveyard

Normally, I’d be quite wary of entering a graveyard with a stone archway at its entrance, fearful of being drawn into the realm of the dead. Rest assured, this arch is no portal; there are no bodies buried here, no caskets for corpses to escape from. The Cal Poly SLO Architecture Graveyard only consists of elaborate tombstones: the projects built by students over the years which now stand idly by as time passes around them.

Expecting to see an array of complex structures, I hurry through the arch only to be met by a big brown cow mooing atop a hill. Past this, I see a structure consisting of concrete petals which radiate outward from its center. I cautiously maneuver around the cow, avoiding the stale cow dung that is littered across the field. I climb atop the concrete lotus and get my first good view of my surroundings. Then I set out to explore.

My first stop is a suspension bridge built over a hill. I approach with care; I’m not a fan of heights, especially when it involves a bridge that never passed any sort of regulations. Held up only by a set of cables, the triangular platform shakes as I step forward. A little devil inside me tells me to shift my weight around to test the limits, causing the whole structure to bounce along with me, much to the dismay of my cameraman. If it was in the Bay, the bridge would definitely have to be seismically retrofitted.

I continue to make my way to an earthen hut whose purpose I don’t know. En route to my true destination, I am startled by a cow mooing angrily while making rounds throughout the graveyard. I slowly shuffle past it, careful not to step on the twigs scattered across the ground. Finally at the hut, I circle until I find the entrance, where I am surprised to find a broken sink. Against the wall, where one would normally find a mirror in a bathroom, is some graffiti: 

“Life is too short to not do what makes you smile.”

I try to turn the faucet on, to no avail. I turn the corner to find a Banksy-esque image of a boy holding a rocket into the air; above him are the words “Humankind Miniscule.” Next to the boy are the remains of a toilet, pieces of which had splintered off and now lay uselessly on the ground, as if it had been struck down the side by a sledgehammer.

Many of the structures I visit are similar. Some are functional, others purely decorative. Some seem to be experiments in materials or design. I expect this artistic and, at times, academic nature of the graveyard, as it largely consists of student projects.

What I don’t expect is the ambience of ruin. Although most structures are intact, they have a certain worn out quality about them. Often, they have been damaged in one way or another, with unscrewed signs and smashed objects strewn about. Most are completely covered with grafitti. Although the consequence of vandalism may be a loss of function, vandalism also leads to a transformation in form. I see not just the results of hours of designing, testing, and building, but also the lamentations of someone after a breakup and the transient thoughts of a passerby with a can of paint. 

These structures are far more than the months of turmoil of a small handful of students: they are the culmination of centuries of knowledge that have built up to the technologies of today. Yet, the colorful dashes of neon catch the eye first. These spontaneous figures on the wall tell of the joys, the struggles, and the experiences belonging to the graveyard’s guests. I wonder if, much like the cave paintings in Chumash, all that will be left of our era will be some graffiti on the wall.

Like any trip, as my time is nearing its end, I can’t help but feel as if my stay was short-lived. Part of me wants to explore every nook and cranny of the graveyard, discover the purpose of every building and the hieroglyphs etched into their walls. I leave through the stone portal through which I entered, leaving behind an unfinished journey, going toward the ruins of the future.

Words: Tushar Sondhi

Photos: Eden Porras Harth