Thursday, February 18, 2010
Cozy and Comfortable, Comptemporary Yet Quaint
Week 6 - Discussion Post (also on FB)
I remember vividly the first time I walked through the door and experiencing “the indefinable something” (Susanka, 2004: 5) of which Sarah Susanka speaks. In an effort to try to put my finger on what it was that drew me in and helped me feel at home, I decided to revisit one of my favorite restaurants. The first descriptors that come to mind are cozy and comfortable, contemporary yet quaint. In her interview with Diane Rehm, Susanka says, “Cozy is also a euphemism for too small” (Rehm, 2001). For me, though, “cozy” connotes warmth and that “sense of shelter” (Susanka, 2004: 13), which, in this restaurant, was created, in part, by painting the walls with a wonderfully warm golden hue. This color cascaded into the room, where it was worked in to the color of the tablecloths. It was as if we were surrounded by sunshine. Despite the height of the room (I estimate at least 12 feet) and what could be considered a very rigid and restricting rectangular shape, a very intimate feeling was created. Four tall, narrow windows (two on each of two adjacent walls) allowed natural light to filter in through simple sheer curtains. These were wrapped in the warm embrace of deep, rich burgundy window treatments, which tied in to the color of the painted and glass-paned door. The tall windows whisked my eyes upward, where tin ceiling panels (featured in the photo) contributed to the character of the room.
These dark and textured tiles above, a reflection of the dark, textured timbers (hardwood floors) below, brought the ceiling closer. This example of “visual weight” (Susanka, 2007) contributed to the “cozy” quality.
As I left the room and walked down the hall to the front door, I decided to turn around and take one last look, at which point I recognized that “Light to Walk Toward” (Rehm, 2001; Susanka, 2004: 12). From the front door, my eye had been welcomed by the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. One of those tall windows had been the undetected draw from the front door. In addition, I noticed that the door to the room was framed with a wide, white molding. With one last glance into the room, I realized this same molding framed a discrete door into the kitchen. In both cases, the frame definitely signaled entry into “a new place” and served as “a gateway” (Susanka, 2007), guiding me from the “harsh” outdoors to the hall to a “home” away from home.
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