The gardens at Danny Woo are a beautiful reflection of the gardeners who steward the land. The plots are nestled closely, with improvised fences fashioned of all types of materials, and trellises cropping up and bridging multiple plots, building and expanding on the developments of past generations of gardeners. If you walk up and down the terraced acre-and-a-half, you’ll hear many languages as the elder immigrants who live in the neighborhood prune, harvest, and trade materials.
In the fall of 2020, Sawhorse Revolution brought together high school youth from InterIm CDA’s Wilderness Inner-city Leadership Development (WILD) cohort, with design mentors from AIA Seattle’s Diversity Roundtable (DRT) to respond to the Danny Woo Community Garden’s need for secure storage for gardening tools and materials. The design sessions were held virtually, using Zoom to present architectural concepts and design principles, and share drawings and ideas, as we were navigating the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic. This group of teens and professional designers collaboratively created the design over the course of nine weeks, and reconvened the following summer to bring the design to life.
At Sawhorse Revolution, our model is simple: team teenagers with professional carpenters and architects, to design and build beautiful and necessary structures to benefit their own neighborhoods and communities. Our mission is to foster confident, community-oriented youth through the power of carpentry and craft. In this program, we were able to honor and work with diverse youth and mentors to collaboratively create a building that is useful, beautiful, and culturally informed, within a place that is truly collectivist in its practice.
Building this tool shed, with its multicultural Asian design inspiration and build techniques – from shou sugi ban siding to intricate joinery on the rafters – by and for residents of the International District, was a labor of love to honor the elder gardeners that tend the plots surrounding the new shed. Our students had the opportunity to cut boards, sticks, and other materials for the gardeners' plots, and although many of the elder gardeners speak little English, they would offer kind gestures of thanks. One Sawhorse Board member (and program alumna) visited the site often to help build and translate between gardeners and students.
At Sawhorse, we hope that students are not passers-by, but a part of the history that has made their city. At Danny Woo, that meant learning about the Gang of Four, about “Uncle” Bob Santos and his resistance efforts that led to the creation of this space of growth, about the effects of the pandemic and widening income inequality on the garden, and to be part of its subsequent rebuild and growth. Vegetables may grow in annual cycles; communities require tending across generations, and Sawhorse’s Danny Woo design-build programs brought its youth right into the stream of action and creation of the (social) fabric of the city.
Anyone who’s been to Seattle’s Chinatown-International District knows the Danny Woo Community Garden—or just "Danny Woo," if you’re a local. Here, compact rows of informally furnished p-patches line the south face of a large hill overlooking Lumen Field and T-Mobile Park in the distance. Hand-built sheds and gazebos line trails that weave between tree trunks while the canopies above provide endless cool shady spots.
As the biggest green space in the CID, Danny Woo is a nexus for the neighborhood; those who are closely tied to this district understand that this open-air haven has had a major positive impact on its people. InterIm CDA, a non-profit organization for affordable housing and community development in the CID, even advertises the gardens on their website as “an essential place for the surrounding community to engage with nature, access safe and healthy food, and build cohesion with neighbors.” Like many of its culturally and historically significant neighbors, this gathering spot has become rooted in the community and continues to leave a lasting impression on visitors and locals alike.
But what happens when something new comes to town? Change is inevitable, and we all have to expect it as populations around the world grow exponentially and continue to diversify. However, change hasn’t always been friendly to the CID as much of its past has been pervaded by discrimination and displacement. Its people have previously been forced to relocate due to discriminatory redlining practices, and it has been geographically segmented by the creation of Interstate 5. Still, despite a history riddled with acts of genocide, internment during World War II, and battles with unfair legislation, the CID has persevered. Today, this community proudly celebrates its identity as a diverse, self-supporting community, and its membership, understandably, has been very protective of this individuality and fought carefully to maintain it. So, what does a community like this do when something new—something that will provide missing facilities and services—needs to be built? Community Center North provides one possible answer.
Fitting in means forming connections, even at the most fundamental level. Like making small talk at a party, you have to find some way to relate to that lone person standing awkwardly next to you. In this case, Community Center North begins with understanding its site: an unassuming 14,400-square-foot asphalt patch formerly home to an under-used pay-to-park lot. It's nothing fancy, but the establishments around it are incredibly important. Looking west, Nihonmachi Alley borders the edge of the lot, separating the site from the iconic brick-clad Panama Hotel and NP Hotel just next door. InterIm CDA is located to the east across Maynard Avenue, and, more importantly, Danny Woo sits directly north across Main Street. Topographically, the site is challenging. Like most of this area, the change in elevation is drastic across the relatively short diagonal of the site, presenting issues for mobility-challenged residents.
Still, simply knowing what’s around is not enough to form a real connection. Where this new facility begins to shine is in its allusions to the materials and character of its northern neighbor. First, the new community center heavily focuses on the prevalence of the many light, hand-built wood structures dotting Danny Woo; to reflect this, mass timber was chosen as the main structural system. Though the name "mass timber" might imply a counterintuitive choice, the design uses pairs of thin columns in place of one large column. This allows light to pass through the space between the twin elements, emulating the lightness found among the p-patches. Where these pairs of columns meet a roof or floor beam, the gap lets these horizontal elements pass between the columns, a nod to similar construction methods found in many of the gazebos and sheds in Danny Woo.
Paying tribute to the strong natural presence of the gardens, Community Center North coaxes the greenery out of Danny Woo, bringing it across the street and onto the site in the form of paired green roofs. Each roof covers half the program to serve as the enclosure and provide thermal insulation, and their form also mimics the tree canopies found in the gardens.
Speaking of mimicry, a large staircase runs through the center of the project site, continuing the walk one takes from the uppermost p-patches down to the street level and beyond. The meandering design of these stairs parallels the motion experienced in Danny Woo, eventually ending at a large plaza at the southern end of the site—the lowest edge. When standing in the plaza, whether it's filled with bustling activity or echoing silence, looking back up from where you came gives a beautiful framed view of the treetops shading the local gardeners hard at work.
Materials alone aren’t enough, nor should they be. Using some wood and bringing in a little bit of nature is hardly enough to make any building feel integrated, let alone a real place of community. In order to be successful, a facility like a community center has to put people at the heart of its design and address their needs through its interior spaces. Stepping back and looking again at the historical context of the CID, people have always been the common denominator. That is to say, the CID may not have existed as a unique Seattle neighborhood without the innumerable contributions and sacrifices that its members have made. Even today, we see a strong community that supports itself by helping one another, sharing stories and customs, and celebrating its wide array of cultural backgrounds. Community Center North recognizes all of these qualities and weaves them into the organization of its program. With a particular emphasis on gathering and display, the interior spaces within this project promote coming together to share and celebrate the diversity of people who have created this district.
The large central stair separates the site into two volumes, each one containing spaces intended to either bring CID members together, or share the CID’s art and history with people outside of the neighborhood. Beginning with the west volume, the primary purpose is to give artists and historians space to display works or artifacts that give residents a voice. In particular, the double-height gallery is large enough to host an oversized artifact like a family tapestry or a big sculpture. Adjacent outdoor spaces including the sculpture garden and rooftop terrace are set back from the building edge and covered by the green roof overhead to create a more integrated experience. On the edge bordering Nihonmachi Alley, large amounts of glazing invite the alley into the gallery and showcase the aged brick face as if it were another work of art on display. The space is quiet and contemplative, yet it speaks strongly for the people of the CID. A picture is worth a thousand words, but a place for creativity and art is worth so much more.
Across the central stair on the east side of the center is the gathering space, and here, the program addresses the need for a sheltered place for congregation. Because this neighborhood has a large elderly population, there is need for space to take refuge from the heat, especially after spending an afternoon walking up from the grocery store or down from Danny Woo Community Gardens. However, the greater challenge for this part of the population is traversing the steep slopes around the site, so this volume makes sure to have a few points of entry that allow elders to come into the site or take a small rest if they are passing by. Within, the Great Hall—a double-height multi-use space—houses a variety of community events, ranging from town hall meetings to wedding receptions and ceremonial happenings. Adjacent is the community kitchen; opening both to the Great Hall and to the lower plaza outside, the kitchen provides food to its community and encourages gardeners to bring their goods from Danny Woo to share with everyone. Finally, in the highest space is a lounge housing classrooms, a flex space, and an outdoor terrace. Like the Great Hall, this loosely-defined area serves both the elderly and young members of the community.
The role of architecture is to enhance what already exists. We all have those favorite places we love visiting every day, and while each one stands individually, together they form a cohesive neighborhood. For a project like this to be successful, especially in a place like the CID, the architecture has to pay homage to those that came before it. Community Center North makes itself known to its neighbors, yet it also respectfully acknowledges the context in which it lives, leaving a mark without a trace. Sitting silently yet firmly in its small portion of this culturally-rich district, it exists to support its people in the same way that its people support one another.
