While the queer community has made incredible strides towards equality and acceptance, the shocking reality is that queer spaces in Chicago and all across the United States are in a dire state, leaving many feeling isolated, marginalized, and without a true sense of belonging, especially for intersectional individuals. When looking at a map of Chicago queer spaces overlaid with a map of Chicago wealth distribution by neighborhood we can see a clear issue with how queer spaces are spread out through the city, which is that they’re not. They’re largely coagulated together in places distant from the less wealthy neighborhoods which need these spaces most, in a harmful pattern that is part of a system coined by Gabrielle Esperdy as Lavender-Lining.
We can also see another pattern emerge in the relationship between queer people and architecture: an evolution over time of queer spaces becoming less and less hidden from the street. This is an architectural symbolism of the move as a community towards more integration with society as progress has marched on. However, as queer people seem to become increasingly disgruntled with this increasing lack of privacy and ability to freely self-express, and the pendulum of progress has begun swinging backward for the last four years, with the passing of laws like drag bans and limiting the ability of transgender people to fully transition, what does this mean for an architecture that saw ever-increasing publicity and freedom as inevitable?
The goal of this project is to break this system of lavender lining and create a new typology for the contemporary queer community, using food and the culinary institute to bring the LGBT+ community together and alleviate the high rates of food insecurity found in queer demographics, while also acknowledging and addressing contemporary issues of the aforementioned queer agency and privacy.
In order to accomplish this the program of the culinary institute, queer food pantry, and queer restaurant and club are organized according to site activity levels and resulting areas of privacy and visibility. The entirety of the culinary institute is placed at the most visible corner of the site, acting as a programmatic beard to the queer programs. Additionally considered were issues of vertical privacy increasing as one is further removed from the street or as one becomes visible to riders of the L-train, which heavily influenced the section. Furthermore, a secondary screen is added to the exterior of the buildings, which at times covers the fenestration, projecting the silhouettes of those inside onto the facade. This keeps closeted people safe and preserves queer privacy by protecting their identities, while also sending a message loud and clear that queer people are still here, enjoying food, dancing, cheering, kissing, and even getting their tri-monthly HIV testing. It also calls into question the wording of the recent drag bans that have been passing, interrogating what it truly means for a drag show to be public or not. Is just the silhouette of a performing queen enough of an issue for these homophobic lawmakers?
Additionally important to the project were the several slip spaces, such as the central plaza which is both stage, open food market, and a public space for protest. Or the many instances where a bathroom operates as either lounge, meeting space, or passageway. The presence and entanglement of all these pieces makes it near impossible to ever separate the queer aspect of this project from the culinary and mechanical.
As we continue to redefine the boundaries of our physical and social spaces, let us not forget the importance of creating inclusive environments that celebrate diversity, challenge norms, and satisfy both our appetite for culinary delights and our thirst for meaningful connections.
