Once upon a time, the old Canada Post building was primed to make way for Amazon’s arrival. An additional 416 000 square feet of round-the-clock production was appended to the existing 241 000 square feet of campus space, making Vancouver the new HQ2. “Earth’s biggest selection” was an economic monster; the apogee of capitalism’s ultimate prophecy to create 24/7 work and shopping. And it wasn’t the only one. Corporations large and small masked themselves in the name of productivity, depleting its workers and consumers of precious restful sleep. As the last line of defense against the 24/7, sleep was humanity’s last escape; a temporality that still respected circadian rhythms.
One day, an act of resistance began.
At first it looked like a few scrap materials.
Then right before our very eyes, revolution began.
Canary yellow boxes provided enclosed spaces for those who wanted uninterrupted deep sleep. Hammocks and tensile structures engulfed the body of those who sought the warmth of returning to a mother’s womb. And the coral corridor shelved the world’s most boring books that could put anyone to sleep instantly. Flamingo pink change rooms, mint green toilets and shower rooms were arranged and rearranged in the scaffold to orchestrate the perfect bedtime routine. And for those who preferred sleeping in the company of others, there were spaces for that too. This new partial skin gave the building a new look, one that changed according to the needs and moods of its users.
“Nocturne” as the citizens called it, became an epicenter for public reverie. It brought day-sleepers, night-sleepers, nappers, and hibernators from all over the city.
Niloufar Nelly Goodarzi
Bill Pechet [CHAIR]