The unexpected partnership of modern technology and indigenous accents just adds to the Nerve Centre’s quirkiness. After we’ve wound up the stairs, through the doors and down the dark hallway we come to Editing Suite 3, where a continuously running vintage radiator is situated next to computers and tape decks… and then there are the semi-old, semi-rickety wooden doors that only open automatically. If I came back to the Nerve Centre every day I would venture into its hidden rooms and certainly find more oddities. I love that I found this place, or rather that Bucknell found it for me. I was able to work somewhere that I think reflects my personality more than, say, a political organization. The Nerve Centre is groovy and cutting edge and there’s always something new to explore, like Mervin’s back office or any of the media rooms on the second floor. If I only ever learned about Northern Ireland in a classroom setting I might think there is nothing more than a conflict that smothers the country.
Now that I think about it, the physical layout of the Nerve Centre and its constituents matches its complexity. From the street, with three stories and just a few windows, it looks like a townhouse. But once you enter and explore the winding staircase and the back corridors, you realize you can endlessly search for new nooks. On the ground floor there is a small theatre, a ticket office, an equipment stockroom and a few offices. Moving up to the second floor, they house plenty of video/sound editing suites, recording studios, offices and computer labs. The concert venue resides on the top floor. It’s amazing that all of these things can fit in one building, let alone one that looks so small from the storefront. Walking around the Nerve Centre is like navigating through a labyrinth. Even though I’ve walked around it so many times I still feel like I should carry a rope up the stairs and through the doors to the editing suite so I can find my way back out (as per Theseus and the Minotaur).
On Wednesday we traveled as a group to Stormont, the Northern Ireland Assembly building in Belfast. The building is split into small sections by walls, doors and corridors. We walked through doors that open to more hallways and more doors, with so many rooms, just like at the Nerve Centre. The great room (dare I call it a lobby?) at Stormont is opulent and grand in absolute terms, with its red and blue detailed ceiling, but loses significance when related to the overall grandeur of the entire estate. We climbed gilded stairs to a room identified as a Sinn Fein conference suite. After we moved to another room through more doors and down more corridors (due to top secret Sinn Fein business – I don’t know), I recognized a similarity between Stormont’s segmented configuration and that of the Nerve Centre. However, I’m having trouble drawing any parallels between the motives for each.
I’ll admit that I feel cool when I march through the back hallways in the Nerve Centre, but doing so in Stormont was absolutely intimidating. We stuck out like zoo animals with our band of yellow visitor passes. Security guards herded us around to the bathroom or outside for tea and biscuits. I felt like a complete outsider at Stormont – so powerless in this house of negotiation. I’m thinking that the design of the building is serving its security purpose. It would have been so easy for me to get lost and not find my way back to the lobby. If hoodlums decided to storm Stormont they would probably be too disorientated to actually accomplish anything in the identical hallways. I feel like I'm alone with peace at the Nerve Centre but Stormont is overwhelming... so I would say that the constructions of these two very different buildings serve their purposes. While I can find refuge in the crannies of the NC, I felt pressure like I could be cornered at any moment by the guards. I was actually kind of shocked that purely the structure of a building could reinforce its message so exactly.
