Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Arthur J. Morris Law Library

Dear Library Blog Readers,
Remember last time when I was telling you about the Fine Arts Library, and how cramped and cozy and un-spacious it was?  Well, this week we visited the Arthur J. Morris Law Library, at the UVA Law School.  And if I didn't already know that lawyers have more money than artists, the contrast between these two libraries really drove that point home.  The Law Library is like a cross between The Pentagon and a luxury leather goods executive's living room.  If you look up "spacious" in the dictionary you will probably see a picture of the Arthur J. Morris Law Library.  Here is a picture of the reading room:


Can we just pause for a moment and talk about that perfect row of freshly-lined trash cans, so precisely lined up beside every table?  Why do the lawyers need a trash can at hand's reach?  Are they balling things up and throwing them away at a rapid rate?  Are they puking from stress?  Is this an aesthetic choice? Or do they have them there just because they can?  In any case, the Law Library is tricked out with deluxe accomodations, and many extra mint-on-the-pillow flourishes. Like having one freshly lined trash can meticulously arranged beside each and every table. Twelve, to be precise.  Because if there's one thing the Law Library is, it's precise...

....which leads me to another hilarous contrast between here and the Fine Arts Library.  The cautiounary "don't leave your computer unattended" signs.  In Fiske Kimball it simply says "take your laptop with you, there have been reports of theft."  Here at the Law Library, the signs read:  "Two laptops have been stolen this semester."  So. Specific.

The Law Library is comprised of several floors, and I am sorry that on this particular day, time constraints limited my visit to the first floor.  But what I did see in my brief time here was impressive.  Besides the grandiose Reading Room, replete with trash can row, finely crafted wooden tables and plush leather chairs, the entrance also makes a distinct impression.  Before you enter into the main part of the library, you pass through a lobby that is spacious, formal, and notably clean.  There is an information desk, romantic lighting, and several glass cases filled with relevant documents and artifacts.  One of the most surprising is a shotgun owned by former United States Supreme Court Justice Earl Warren (handcrafted by a Charlottesville gunsmith).

There is also a remarkable collection of oil portraits in classical gilded frames of various Law School luminaries from the past. Among them, Elizabeth Nelson Tompkins '23, the first female law graduate at UVA (and a native of Albemarle County),
and Frances Farmer, the Law School Librarian from 1942-1976.  
According to the inscription beside her portrait, "under her leadership the library grew from 40,000 uncatalogued books in the 1940s to a major research collection of 300,000 volumes by her retirement in 1976."

Judging from the immaculate maintenance, clear presentation of information, and floors upon floors of research materials, I would imagine that Frances Farmer would be pleased with how the Law Library has grown in the years since her reign.  It is one of the nicest libraries I have visited on the tour so far, and certainly one that I would love to revisit and explore more.

*Thanks to Taylor Fitchett, Director of the Law Library, for providing useful information about many items in the Library's special collection.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Fiske Kimball Fine Arts Library

For the fifth stop on the Library Tour, we visited the Fiske Kimball Fine Arts Library at UVA.  Located on the Arts Grounds (also home to the UVA Art Museum, Culbreth Theatre, and the School of Architecture), the Fine Arts Library is unassuming from the outside.  The entrance is small and narrow and has no lobby, but instead leads directly into the circulation desk area.  The interior is cozy, the ceilings are low, and the aisles of packed bookshelves would be best described as whatever the opposite of "spacious" is.  A dimly lit stairwell straight out of the 1970s leads you to the upper floor which offers a more spacious study room off to the left, with windowed walls and a view of the Architecture School.  But if you continue straight, past the windowed study room, the walls close in again and you are offered more cozily packed bookshelves, a few small study carrels, and a small white staircase leading to the secret third floor.  It is really more of a loft than an actual third floor, with more tightly packed bookshelves and a small circular balcony that wraps around the low ceiling and looks down on the shelves below. 

The collection of books, even in what feels like a slightly cramped space, is impressive.  I was particularly struck by the volumes and volumes of art books written in other  languages- Italian, French, Chinese, Japanese- that filled the shelves.  It would be a fun place to go back and explore, as it is clearly overflowing with books on every type of painting, drawing, fabric art, landscaping and pottery throughout the centuries.  I would certainly like to revisit and check out some more of these treasures, but I'm not sure I would use it frequently as just a place to hang out.  

One final note: of all five libraries that I have visited on the tour so far, the Fine Arts Library was by far the most deathly silent.  I appreciate a respectful and quiet library environment, but in the two and a half floors that I explored I did not hear even a whisper or a clicking of keys typing- and there were many people in there!  It was silent almost to the point of being tense; every time I took a step I felt like I was disrupting the ecosystem.  But if my main complaint about a library is that "it's too quiet", I suppose that is really not a horrible thing.  And the next time I need some artistic inspiration, I know where to come!



Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Greene County Library: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

For the fourth stop on Library Tour Fall 2014, we traveled north to the Greene County Library, a branch of the Jefferson-Madison Regional Library. Greene County is Albemarle's scenic and mostly rural neighbor to the north. The Library is located in Stanardsville, a quaint hamlet about 30 minutes from Charlottesville with one Main Street, tiny buildings marked "Post Office" and "Voter Registration", and lush mountain views.  The library building itself (a plain, new-ish brick building with an expansive parking lot) is unremarkable, particularly in the context of antebellum architecture in the homes, churches and picturesque storefronts that surround it.
The interior was simple, but with everything you would expect from a small town library: adorable children's section with tiny tables & chairs and seasonally appropriate Halloween display; small but adequate row of adult-sized tables; Information Desk with sweet, chatty ladies who seemed to know most of the library patrons by name.  The atmosphere was not particularly quiet (toddlers making toddler noises, librarians chatting up the regulars), but it was comfortable and relaxed.  I can't say that I would make the thirty minute drive again, just for the Library. But as small town libraries go, this one appears well-stocked, well-staffed, and popular among the locals.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Claude Moore Health Sciences Library

Our third stop on the library tour brought us to the Claude Moore Health Sciences Library at the University of Virginia, adjacent to the UVA Hospital.  The Health Science Library is situated over Jefferson Park Avenue in the large raised walkway that connects Hospital buildings on either side of the road.  Ambulances and doctors wearing scrubs abound near the entrance, giving this library a distinctly medical setting.  The interior also has sparse, minimally-decorated feeling of a hospital.  This is certainly not inappropriate, but for two humanities scholars accustomed to forests of bookshelves, it felt a bit bleak.  The fluorescent lights and low ceilings make it feel a bit like a laboratory and less like a library.  I cannot say that I found the setting particularly conducive to creative writing, but of course that is not what this space was designed for.  The place is clearly very popular among medical students; it was packed on the day that we went, and a friend in the nursing school confirmed that he loves it as a place to study.  I have no doubt that it is an excellent resource for medical students and a wonderful place to conduct scientific, digitally-based research.

Before we arrived, I mentioned to Anne that the name "Claude Moore" reminded me of Clement C. Moore, the author of The Night Before Christmas.  I joked that in his portrait (which would no doubt grace the walls of the lobby) he probably looked like Santa Claus.  But when we got inside, there was no portrait to be found.  Unlike the warm and inviting Tracey W. McGregor Room of our last stop, the namesake of this particular library did not make his presence known anywhere.  Not in the plain, businesslike lobby.  Not on the walls in the low-ceilinged, fluorescent-lit study area.  However, as we were leaving, we noticed a small plaque on the outside of the building.  We walked closer to get a better look, and then we saw him:  Claude Moore.  White beard and all: I'm not even joking.

I am very glad we stopped to read the plaque, not only to confirm my notion that he indeed resembled Santa Claus, but because the brief biography that accompanied his picture opened with the best line ever.  It began, "Claude Moore, a colorful and outspoken millionaire..."  Anne and I agreed that when we died, we would both like to be remembered as colorful and outspoken millionaires.  At the Health Sciences Library, inspiration is found in unexpected places.  And even though it wasn't really my style, I am very glad to have visited.

Monday, September 22, 2014

The McGregor Room at Alderman Library

    For the second stop on Library Tour Fall 2014 we visited the McGregor Room, a hidden jewel nestled several floors below the main floor of UVA's Alderman Library.  Alderman is an impressive place, too vast and nooked-and-crannied to get a proper overview of in one visit.  The McGregor room is surely but one of dozens of little havens within Alderman, each with its own distinctive character and special features.  I hope to revisit Alderman many more times and explore the whole range of rooms, halls and floors it has to offer.  But for this week, we happily spent our two hours in the Tracy W. McGregor Room, on the second floor of the East Wing.

    After entering through the main lobby of Alderman with its echoing floors and tall, vaulted ceilings, we passed by tidy rows of computers and gleaming white walls that stretched the length of the lobby.  We pushed through a glass door and into the East Wing stairwell and went down two winding levels.  The stairwell and lobby were both spacious, and fairly sterile and institutional looking. But when we pushed through the door to the second floor, the mood immediately changed.  The lighting was much dimmer, and as we exited the stairwell and stepped into the second floor hallway, we were greeted by an imposing figure: the dark and formal carved stone portrait of Tracy W. McGregor himself.  He looked very serious.  From Mr. McGregor's picture we turned to the left and saw the doorway to the McGregor Room beckoning to us.  I had heard several UVA graduates refer to this room as "the Harry Potter room", and standing in its entrance now it was apparent why.  The decor in the room was antique and traditional, quite a contrast from the stark grey-and-white computer rows upstairs.  Here the walls were lined ceiling to floor with dark, pristine wooden shelves, each one filled with books.  The floors were carpeted and the room was lit (not brightly) by several tasteful chandeliers.  It was cozy in the McGregor room, warm and masculine- just like Tracy W. McGregor himself, I'm sure.  I half-expected Mr. McGregor to stride out at any moment from behind one of the chocolatey-brown bookcases, smoking a pipe and pouring a glass of brandy.  It was a very comfortable space to spend two hours.

     Only one unfortunate thing happened.  I was reading over some of my archived journal entries from about ten years ago, sorting through and seeing what I wanted to keep or work on more.  Basically, as I was reading over what I had written...there is no good way to say this...I kept cracking myself up.  I kept coming across a line that struck me as funny, and each time I had to cover my mouth and put my head on the desk as I stifled my laugh and shook silently like a third grader.  And I'm a grown ass woman, so that had to look kind of weird.  I'm not sure if the material was really that hilarious.  But the more I read, the more I laughed, to the point where tears were streaming silently down my face.  Because as comfortable as the room was, it was also as silent as the grave- and everyone in there was very serious.  Much more serious and silent than in the Charles L. Brown Science & Engineering Library, just for the record.  Because it was a formal, traditional setting and everyone was serious and silent, it was sort of like being in church and trying not laugh.  I was sure Grandfather McGregor was going to sternly chastise me at any moment, but that just made it funnier.  I don't think I disturbed anyone, but it was a little bit embarrassing.  However, even with an inappropriate fit of giggles, my two hours in the McGregor Room were productive, pleasant, and even restorative.  It is certainly a room that I look forward to revisiting in the future.

Note:  A previous version of this post had misspelled Mr. McGregor's first name.  Thanks to the careful eyes of my friends at the UVA Library, I have removed all superfluous "e"s from the text.  VR

Monday, September 15, 2014

Library Tour Kickoff: Charles L. Brown Science and Engineering Library!

Recently, my friend Anne and I devised a plan to develop more regular, regimented writing schedules for ourselves.  Getting into a writing routine this fall is something we both needed and wanted.  She is a Professor of Spanish currently on sabbatical from her university to write an academic book examining Latin American film and literature.  I am a perpetually procrastinating Free Spirit with a lot of ideas and no discernible self-discipline.  We are both the perfect candidates for a structured-yet-fun new routine: Library Tour Fall 2014!  Our plan is to visit a different library every week and spend two hours there, simply writing.  Since we are in Charlottesville, home of the University of Virginia, the list of libraries within a short walk or drive is lengthy and impressive.  The university alone boasts over a dozen, and the local public library has several branches both in the city and in smaller neighboring communities.  Traveling to a new and different setting every week will be exciting and fun, but each destination will offer the same basic necessities: a quiet, comfortable space designed for scholastic and literary inspiration and two uninterrupted hours of time.  I will fill those two hours writing, working on my own projects.  Then in addition, I will update this blog and write you a little review about all of the libraries we have visited. Like Yelp for libraries: you're welcome.

For our first library of the tour, we chose the Charles L. Brown Science and Engineering Library.  I grew up in Charlottesville, and even though I didn't attend UVA, I am intimately familiar with many of the buildings on grounds and I sort of feel like I know where everything is.  Not true!  Not only had I never set foot in the Engineering Library before, I had no idea it was even a thing.  It is a thing, and it is actually an incredibly beautiful place.  The entryway is a huge, echoing lobby with pleasant natural light and murals of naked ancient Greek men painted on the immense walls, and a small coffee shop in the near left alcove.  It feels like a fancy airport, or the lobby of an art museum.  Once you pass through the lobby into the actual library part, it's more conventionally libraryish.  Long front desk, rows of carrels, clusters of chairs. Seated at a table with a view out the window, surrounded by 19-year-old future engineers, I wrote twelve handwritten pages.  I stayed on task, didn't check my phone, and I didn't cry.  The first stop of Library Tour was a huge success!