RECK AT PLAINSIGHT

Ever since Jim Dull (Assistant Dean of Students in 1959) came across Ted Johnson’s grand 1930 Ford Model A Sport Coupe, he knew it would become the perfect symbol of faithfulness, representing the dilapidated 1914 Ford Model T that Floyd Field, a math professor, used to drive. The Ramblin’ Reck has been the proud mascot for decades, and Georgia Tech is committed to maintaining and protecting the car’s image and body through relentless efforts. Today, it stands in the Reck Garage, located on the slope between the Student Center and Ferst Drive, on the southern part of the campus.

The simple-looking garage is intended for students to get a glimpse of the Reck, which is first established by its placement on a plinth, on a rising slope, clearly visible from the community hotspot, Tech Green. The building can be broken down into two volumes: the single story structure and the foot and a half tall pedestal it sits on.  As one walks toward the garage, the commotion and noise gradually settle, with the threshold of the Student Center serving as an audible boundary. The building itself appears to be a simple rectilinear mass with a noticeably wide overhang, which induces a sense of horizontality to the viewer from a distance. Climbing the three steps up to the plinth leads to a few white tables and chairs, indicating a sitting area for students. The dark gray aggregates and reddish-brown brick pavers on the plinth floor remain consistent with the aesthetic identity of Georgia Tech and visually complement the dark gray of the tinted glass, matte gray paneling, and mullions of the garage. In plan, the space primarily has two zones: the platform for the car and the utility area. The platform, a rotating disk, clearly indicates the intention to showcase and glorify the object at its center, the Ramblin’ Reck. What becomes immediately apparent upon close observation is the meticulous attention to detail in construction and appearance. The lines align, the material language is consistent, corners are crisp, and the proportions are well considered. It almost creates the perfect garage for the Reck, until one tries to actually see the car on display.

The hindrances start when you first approach from the Northern side (Tech Green the most common approach).The facade gives you no clue of Reck, due to the clutter of furniture as well as the dark tints on the glazing. One can barely see inside on a sunny day, which doesn’t align with the garage's established intentions. It’s possible the tint is meant to protect the interior, but this results in strong reflections that make viewing a strain. You know it’s meant to be perfectly transparent because you can see golden plaques with text and stories inside, but this only makes the experience more frustrating. The medallion on the eastern side clearly indicates a viewing point closest to the parked piece of history, but the perfect perpendicular view is obstructed by a solid gray mullion that doesn’t even attempt to conceal itself. In the pursuit of some sense of proportion among the materials, the mullion stands like a showstopper on a runway, slicing the car into two perfect halves. The nearly invisible black mullions on the longer sides are discontinued just when they actually matter, leading to a sense of dissatisfaction and a craving to see more clearly. The bold aesthetic that embodies Georgia Tech’s brand manifests in the ornamented gold and white body of the car, yet the permanent home for such a loud statement is a dull gray at its best moments. Disconnected completely from the visual cues that uphold the university's identity, the disaster starts to sink in. The struggle between wanting to be seen and hiding in plain sight is so apparent that one might even read the two flags flanking the car as an ironic surrender. At least we know the car is driven around often enough, offering a few minutes of the glory it deserves and when it’s actually visible.

In the critique, conceptual interpretation outlines the garage’s symbolic intent as a display for the Ramblin' Reck. Through constructive interpretation, there is a discussion of the actuals like material choices, visual identity, attention to detail and transitions to the perspective of the viewer keeping in mind the overarching intent. Finally, using evaluative interpretation, I take it a step further, emphasizing the disconnect between its design aspirations and the actual user experience.