On Location: The God's Messengers

BRIEF: "You are asked to analyse a location within the college and identify the means by which the space has been organised to effect the particular use of that space...Your task is to change the way the space is used, perceived or experienced by designing and implementing a small intervention."

On entering the Audio Visual suite on the second floor of Goldsmiths Library, it is easy to believe you have accidentally stumbled back outside. Floor-to-ceiling glass covers an entire wall running the length of the large room, and vaulted ceilings supported by Roman-style concrete pillars give the impression of being perched on some large ancient veranda.
It is an academic space, but equally it’s a place of leisure; students absorbed in televisions or hi-fis cocoon themselves behind headphones, lean back in their chairs and bask in the illusion of quiet privacy- the bright, airy interior devoid of distractions or intrusion. Nobody seems to heed the looming presence of the Library itself- manifest in a myriad of dictatorial, instructive and directional signage. Orders are barked from every corner. Security cameras sit high on the walls, looming down on desks and editing suites; ever-observing; omnipotent.

The conflict between the feeling of concealment and privacy in a space that is so observed and transparent is what intrigues me. I wanted to impose a small intervention that might shatter that illusion of self-containment and privacy. As well as lending an idol to my interpretation of Library as Deity

Corvids (Ravens, Crows, Magpies and Rooks) have strong connotations within the mythologies of almost all cultures of the Northern hemisphere. Traditionally, they are associated with knowledge, wisdom and subtlety, and often assume the role of a messenger or spy. Odin, king of the Norse gods, had two ravens that he would send forth each morning, to gather for him news from the earth.

Large black Ravens perch atop desks and dividers; wings flexed, their large glassy eyes observing everything and nothing. They are the manifestations of the Library God; the all-seeing messengers of the transient dictator who oversees Goldsmiths Library.
The birds are crafted out of plain black paper using simple origami styling, with large glass marbles for eyes.
Aesthetically they are imposing although not sinister- each differing slightly from the next, implying personality and different roles within the flock. They sit intrusively atop televisions and desks, invading the private working spaces- preparing their report on their return to their Master.