Potluck Parlour

By Meike Stender + Valeria Nuyanzina

Connection to Harringay Warehouse District

The pavilion proposal was inspired by the unique grain of Tottenham district and acts as a living room for the residents. A series of nooks – opportunities for the moments to take place built by residents. Textures, sounds, meetings, object swap, gatherings, home for art, discussion, as well as essential every day interactions all find a place under the wing of the pavilion structure. The components of the public living room can be repurposed and collaged into the area later as separate units – to become little worlds of exchange, pockets of neighbourly expression, later weaving into the street fabric.

Proposal Outline

“Well you said you would bring the salad to the potluck. So I made a dip! They will be baking sourdough finally for the meeting at the pavilion… Ok I gotta run too see you there soon.” I didn’t finish sewing this peace, but will exchange some buttons, or will sew all different ones, one from my aunt, another that I picked up at the swap pile and the one from the store I was saving until now. Now from the soccer field there is music spreading. Getting the sweater off my chair,I get ready, knock on the neighbour door we pick up the flower pots and walk over. Yellow band, some children on bikes, smell of the food truck taco, carton seating someone is testing. We turn a corner, the car repair shop, I wave, left the phone at home but whatever, a tabby on the fence. It shouldn’t rain tonight, well we walk into the narrow alley, the flowerpots are even a little too big for the path. Someone is bringing a sculpture to the potluck on a blue cart. We turn a corner again right into the yellow arch. People are starting to gather. I need to check the swap shop. I brought some tarp last week and didn’t pick anything in exchange but now I have something in mind to look for. It seems like we gather between two trains. People got off at their station, it happened to be a small gallery street! White window, blue door, a wheel swing, a broom, firewood smell, curtains open, someone with a drum, it is not a flea, more a living room, porcelain flower vases, ceramic sound, a pink glaze of the sky, a thread a slide a frame, corrugated sheets cardboards and waffles, we laugh as kids run by wearing capes. I need to remember to see the swap shop maybe after our neighbourly meet up. And after one beer.”