The multilayered project Jen Wood and Emanuel Admassu of AD—WO created for their site on the former Irwin Union Block grew out of conversations they had during their first visit to Columbus last fall. At that time, they invited locals to meet with them in the vacant lot to find out how they would like to see the empty space used. The one aspect that all of the ideas shared was the desire to see a community gathering space. They wanted a spot that wasn’t overly prescribed and where you wouldn’t have to buy anything in order to spend time there.

The pair liked that line of thinking, but they also wanted to do more.

“We were thinking about the histories that have been omitted in the conversation around Columbus,” Admassu said. “Most of it has been focused on modern architecture, while Indigenous space-making and Black inhabitation barely register in the normative discussions around the history of the place.”

The pair then had a goal in mind: To create a new community gathering space that honors Columbus’ diverse history. To begin, Admassu and Wood did extensive research into cultural burnings—land-remediation practices by Indigenous people—and how those burnings help to avoid catastrophic events to ensure that the land can continue to be cultivated.

“There are much softer ways of dealing with life that are embedded in the soil,” Admassu said, “and that kind of sensitivity is what we were trying to achieve.”

Simultaneously, they were influenced by the work of thinkers like Charles H. Long and J. Kameron Carter, who have written extensively about the vitality of Black spiritual practices. These socio-cultural dispositions frame relationships to matter and space that are somewhat incomplete, unresolved, and open.

“Carter uses the literary device of the ellipsis and the geometry of the ellipse to describe this phenomenon,” Admassu said. “Our aim was to inscribe the geometry in the ground and also leave space open for programming, performance, and choreography to unfold throughout the installation.”

To that end, they inscribed an ellipse into the ground at a depth of about 6 inches and disbursed the soil they removed for planting a prairie of indigenous grasses around it, thus creating a loosely enclosed public room. Above the ellipse is a reed canopy that is suspended between an array of columns that have been charred. This speaks to the recent history of the building that burned, but it is also a process that makes wood more resilient.

“Fire is medicine,” Admassu said. “Fire is a way to make landscapes more robust in terms of the plants and animals that inhabit them.”

The ellipse is covered with black crushed granite to connect with the idea of something that has been charred. The pathways leading to the ellipse, in brick-colored crushed granite, relate to the “very beautiful, falling-apart brick party wall that forms the backdrop to the project,” as Wood described.

Stone benches arranged around the two foci of the ellipse make the space further appealing for forming communities and for interactions to happen organically. Because there is no singular center, the design allows people to have multiple orientations towards the site and its history.

The tripod columns that suspend the canopy were developed in consultation with Hanif Kara, a structural engineer at AKTII in London. Wood and Admassu also acknowledge other individuals and organizations that have been essential in bringing their concept into reality. Taylor Brothers Construction Co. did the grading, erected the columns, and helped with the installation of the canopy. Ray Moistner at Indiana Hardwood Lumbermen’s Association helped connect them with local suppliers, and the group donated wood for the project. The African American Foundation of Bartholomew County gave a significant grant to support the project, and is assisting them in planning events for the site. Sean Nolan of Sanctuary Native Landscapes selected the species and led the prairie planting process. Admassu and Wood also mentioned how generative conversations with their curators and community partners have been.

The ”Yes” part of the project, Wood said, is that it acknowledges the history of the site. The “And” is the site’s importance to the future of Columbus, as a critical site in the downtown master plan.

Admassu added, “Oftentimes acknowledging complex histories is understood as something that is divisive. But our goal is to challenge visitors and residents to consider their own position in relation to the narratives that have defined the region.”