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In November 2020 I was thrust into the ranks of the so-called "homeless" in Oakland, CA. I didn't have the money for an RV or van to live in, and I didn't feel secure just living in a camping tent. I gambled on the hope that putting stretch fabric over the standard tent, and adding a layer of insulation, would improve my chances of both surviving, and staying comfortable through the winter rains, wind and cold.
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This was only the second time I had built a stretch fabric structure, the first one being the "Prior Unity Temple", 12 years earlier at Burning Man. This was a five-face geodesic dome made from 12 foot pieces of bamboo, and covered in the tight skin of white four-way stretch fabric. It had withstood 2 fierce dust storms, as well as the sun and heat of the Black Rock desert, extremely well. But I was taking a leap of faith to depend on my new structure as my sole protection from the winter cold and rains. |
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When I first was thrust into the ranks of the so-called "homeless", I had the typical fears - of exposure to the elements, of becoming a non-person in society, of being the victim of violence or theft. This was compounded by the reputation of the Wood Street encampment in West Oakland, which is vast and dark, and had the reputation for being the toughest homeless encampment in the toughest City.
The prospect of depending on a soft structure in a hard environment was all the more scary.
I found a mound of grassy dirt and broken cement, and leveled off the top to make a 9 x 12 foot space for the basic dome camping tent. Then I built a simple frame of two-by-fours, and filled it with pieces of broken cement that littered the landscape. The broken cement provided adequate drainage, and the rise of the mound placed me above the flood and the mud.
I then placed sofa cushions that I had found in the vast waste stream of illegally dumped materials, and laid them on top of the broken cement, then added a layer of carpet, to create a soft floor to protect me from the jagged edges of the cement foundation. Then I erected the simple dome tent on the cushion layer, added found blankets on top of the tent, as an insulation layer, and placed two tent flys as the third layer, to protect against rain. Then I placed a large piece of four-way stretch cotton jersey fabric, re-purposed from the original Burning Man prior unity dome, as the fourth and final layer..
I made the stretch fabric and tent fly extend about 6 feet further than the length of the tent, to provide a small front "porch", to give me a dry place to take shoes on and off when it is raining, or to lounge and receive guests in fair weather.
The top layer of stretch fabric was only a few inches from the tent, and this provided a dead air layer that added to the effectiveness of the insulation. The stretch fabric reflected the sunlight off of its white surface, keeping it habitable on the hottest, sunniest days. And the stretchiness and toughness of the material enabled it to absorb the strongest winds, and distribute the impact of the wind evenly over its entire surface, which prevented any ripping or tearing of the top layer, and protected the camping tent from the effects of sun and wind. The cotton stretch fabric also keeps the entire shelter amazingly quiet in any wind.
Right on cue, the winter cold and rains began. I discovered that after getting inside the dome and zipping up the front door, my body heat alone made the interior cozy and comfortable during the coldest, wettest nights. The softness of the floor and materials, combined with the round womb-like shape, won me over as my preferred living space, more desirable than any of the standard houses I have lived in, which, now, feel boxy and uptight.
Electricity was provided by a complicated network of extension cords, originating from a tap into one of the City light posts. Since both the City of Oakland, and the local utility, refused to provide us with electricity even if we paid for it, that one 20 amp tap provided all the electricity for about 50 people. This meant that only a small trickle of amperage reached me where I was at, and the whole system had break-downs and sabotage on virtually a daily basis. But this arrangement got me through my first winter, in my new phase of life.
The prospect of depending on a soft structure in a hard environment was all the more scary.
I found a mound of grassy dirt and broken cement, and leveled off the top to make a 9 x 12 foot space for the basic dome camping tent. Then I built a simple frame of two-by-fours, and filled it with pieces of broken cement that littered the landscape. The broken cement provided adequate drainage, and the rise of the mound placed me above the flood and the mud.
I then placed sofa cushions that I had found in the vast waste stream of illegally dumped materials, and laid them on top of the broken cement, then added a layer of carpet, to create a soft floor to protect me from the jagged edges of the cement foundation. Then I erected the simple dome tent on the cushion layer, added found blankets on top of the tent, as an insulation layer, and placed two tent flys as the third layer, to protect against rain. Then I placed a large piece of four-way stretch cotton jersey fabric, re-purposed from the original Burning Man prior unity dome, as the fourth and final layer..
I made the stretch fabric and tent fly extend about 6 feet further than the length of the tent, to provide a small front "porch", to give me a dry place to take shoes on and off when it is raining, or to lounge and receive guests in fair weather.
The top layer of stretch fabric was only a few inches from the tent, and this provided a dead air layer that added to the effectiveness of the insulation. The stretch fabric reflected the sunlight off of its white surface, keeping it habitable on the hottest, sunniest days. And the stretchiness and toughness of the material enabled it to absorb the strongest winds, and distribute the impact of the wind evenly over its entire surface, which prevented any ripping or tearing of the top layer, and protected the camping tent from the effects of sun and wind. The cotton stretch fabric also keeps the entire shelter amazingly quiet in any wind.
Right on cue, the winter cold and rains began. I discovered that after getting inside the dome and zipping up the front door, my body heat alone made the interior cozy and comfortable during the coldest, wettest nights. The softness of the floor and materials, combined with the round womb-like shape, won me over as my preferred living space, more desirable than any of the standard houses I have lived in, which, now, feel boxy and uptight.
Electricity was provided by a complicated network of extension cords, originating from a tap into one of the City light posts. Since both the City of Oakland, and the local utility, refused to provide us with electricity even if we paid for it, that one 20 amp tap provided all the electricity for about 50 people. This meant that only a small trickle of amperage reached me where I was at, and the whole system had break-downs and sabotage on virtually a daily basis. But this arrangement got me through my first winter, in my new phase of life.
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O dome, humble dome. I had by chance created a new form of super-low-cost tiny home development, that could help economic refugees any where in the world have resilient, dignified shelter. It made a refreshing contrast to the trash strewn lovable chaos of this very strange place. In fact, it answered one of the chief complaints that has been used repeatedly as a justification for the endless cycle of forced evictions that encampment dwellers were subjected to - "visual blight".
"Visual blight" were words of war, meant to provide government agencies with the pretext for executing their slow genocide against "we the people". For example, the first act of the Oakland Redevelopment agency in 1962, was to use eminent domain to attack the problem of "visual blight" by destroying the residential homes of 9,000 people in the Acorn district of West Oakland. According to LocalWiki - "The effects of the project on the local community were disastrous. Approximately 9,000 residents had to relocate. This created significant instability, as the project wasn't completed until 1974, and only created 1,000 new units. The loss of community was substantial, and efforts to integrate it were unsuccessful, resulting in an almost entirely black housing project. [Hausler, 1987, 136-7]" In this context, where visual impressions have political consequences, my white stretch fabric shade structures serve a strategic aim, which is to mask the unresolved issues of trash and poverty and sadness with soaring virginal forms, thus buying us more time to heal the underlying issues. 
Raising the Pavilion
(Above) The "All or None" patio and kitchen.
The music stage canopy flowing into the pavilion canopy.
The one-person meditation hut/mini dome/kid's playhouse.
The soft dome is a building method that utilizes tension and four-way stretch fabric to create the lightest weight and least expensive form of human shelter available.
- Fire resilient - Four-layer design is warm and dry in winter, and cool in summer. - Clean elegant design fights the “blight” associated with tents in homeless encampments; elevated platform is protection from floods, and provides added security and health and safety benefits. - Can be deployed with four bicycle wheels for ease of mobility. - Extremely light footprint on the Earth - Quiet, low - waste building methods, easy to learn and to train. summer 1. 18” tall wooden platform, pallets, 2 x 4’s, hardware $100 2. Bottom layer of used/repurposed mattresses or cushions.$0-40 3. Camp Pro tent $170 4. 20 yards of white four-way stretch cotton jersey fabric $170 5. Three camping wool blankets • 80 % Wool/20% Man-Made Fibers • 64 inches x 90 inches • Fire Retardant • $100 6. 6-7 Bamboo poles, Paracord, rope, $100 Total materials cost for the basic model - $700 Additional items 1. Metal security box 2. Miniature metal garbage can for food storage. 3. Fencing |
"Humana Universalis I" Spring 2021
"Humana Universalis I" Summer 2021
Getting into the press, Summer 2021 With the Oakland Redevelopment agency ostensibly dissolved by Governor Jerry Brown's stately decree in 2012 (although rendered into a kind of un-dead zombie shell corporation through name trickery), encampment dwellers are now faced with a formidable phalanx of hostile government agencies, who have found a new growth industry for themselves, in destroying and removing "informal settlements", such as the Wood Street community.
In spite of this looming threat, I set about developing innovative designs that use four-way stretch fabric architecture to create larger spaces, for public assembly, events and parties. I found the best spot to establish a music stage and audience pavilion, at a centrally located point. But this involved clearing the space of a broken down RV owned by a friend of mine, as well as a thick hedge of items she had collected off the streets, combined with random trash, and the unspeakable residues of rot, decay, violence, civil collapse and abandonment, that I had to personally excavate, sort, salvage or discard, all the while trying to help heal and reverse the dark tide of socially engineered sorrow and failure, evident in this one small area of a war against the people. Community member LaMonte Ford constructed a multi-tiered music stage adjacent to the pavilion, and I erected a stretch fabric canopy In addition, I provided a shade canopy for the historic "All or None" patio, adjacent to the outdoor kitchen created by long-time resident John Janosko. Theo Cedar Jones assisting the sacred tree to find its own natural balancing point. The audience pavilion at the heart of the common space was built around a fallen eucalyptus trunk that had been half-heartedly hacked for fire wood, and had an expressionistic, agonized glory that I thought spoke well for this place. I called it the "sacred tree", as messed up as it was. Pre-Christian villages in Scandinavian countries often had a sacred tree at a central point, indicating that they honored and felt connected to Nature. The first thing that Christians did when they got to these places to convert the Heathens, was to chop down their sacred tree. I thought this was also a good symbol of what we the people were experiencing at the hands of Caltrans, the City of Oakland, the Oakland Fire Department, and Judge Orrick. Nick and Armando and I rented a small jack-hammer and rattled slowly through the hard grey rocky soil to make a three foot deep hole, and then mixed and poured about 600 pounds of cement into the root zone of the holy trunk, and resurrected her ragged glory. This was our most significant installation of "permanent" infrastructure, in a situation that was anything but. 
Phase I of the canopy over the music stage. This structure included re-purposed fiberglass tent poles, car wheels, and paracord.
The music stage canopy at night. (Below and Above) 
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(Above) The canopy over the hang-out area in front of Moose's compound. This design was a collabo between Moose and Theo.
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