Park

Diary 20^th December 1996: Went to visit Patrick Stanigar in his Office on the edge of Southside. We drove up to parade and had lunch in a dark little upstairs place in Duke Street called Little Dukes. All tattered, re brocade and dark wood. I had a beef soup. We talked business. Afterwards we walked through St William Grants Park which he had designed according to the demands and desires of Edward Seaga. St William grants park plays an intersting role in Kingston, both historically and phenomenologically. But we will come to that. The walk was wonderful. Vendors to be tripped over. A fierce lady was conducting and presenting a talent show in the amphitheatre. Young men warbled about miseries and desires of the everyday in an aggressive chant. The lady recognised Patrick and over the Microphone honoured him to all the people standing around taking part or listening to the talent show. He got a big applause as the designer of the park. And then we explored and the park unfolded itself as a complex network of frames and purposes. A semi-circular colonnade of axis with the Ward Theatre was constructed specially for the purpose of taking wedding pictures. A huge central fountain rose up in an accretion of rounded forms to make us feel in Disneyland. The clover shaped base had special coves for lovers. He had designed a lover’s park around a great central fountain of abundance, a breast spouting milk or a phallus spouting sperm. Photographers had set up large, ornate circular backed chairs, with plastic flowers woven into the back rest. Next to a small pouch for collecting money each of the photographers had a bathroom scale lying there on the floor amidst the configuration of photographer’s paraphernalia.

Myths: Karlene’s diagram: The park is a focus for uptown concern and downtown scorn. “No-body goes there” “It is really dangerous” “My mother won’t let me go down there” are the responses one gets. As I drove through Coronation Market one day, a concerned old lady came up to me and walked beside my car and told me that I should not be down here. It was too dangerous. People look at you curiously as you walk about. What is “he” doing “here”? A student of mine was analysing William Grants’ park and drew a map of her explorations. She had made two visits, on both visits she was accompanied by someone. The firs time she managed on a fleeting penetratio through the East entrance to the fountain and back. The second time she managed to ask a photographer to come with her and he took her a little further. She was able to explore one quarter of the park in some detail.