Shall we begin?
Eventually the chairs did in fact arrive. Here’s my new view:
The interior of the church building has gone all minimalist. It took me a minute to realise that all the banners had gone and the dodgy wee radiators had gone. It all looks very fresh and clean. And it all has a blue hue as a change from the previous green. Very nice.
So, what of the chair configuration? Probably very wisely, they have gone for the uber-traditional two massive blocks of chairs with an aisle down the middle. Unlikely to generate an intolerable number of complaints on day 1.
It was quite a busy Sunday. Lots of Guides, Brownies and Rainbows boosting the numbers on the back of Thinking Day. So much so that there was a frisson of agitation amongst those who arrived a smidge later than would have been optimal for securing their dream location.
I mean, Sunday was the Sunday to stake your claim – to shimmy in, trying not to look too territorial while trying to judge where your old seat was and get it, sit in it and check that the distances from the front and the windows were right – that your coordinates felt aligned and that all would be well with the world.
People did pretty well, although the youth weren’t sufficiently on it and their row lacked its usual clear definition. They usually have to squish along to fit extra people in; that won’t be happening in the great and glorious future, as the number of chairs in each row is finite. Terrifying.
So the weird side-effect of the new chairs and the new flooring was… eerie silence. For the past 30 years I must have been subconsciously blocking out squeaks, creaks and shuffling. It was very… quiet. Pin drop. Or maybe people were just listening in an absorbed manner as the carpet absorbed any ambient sounds – rather than the wood reflecting the discomfort expressed physically of everyone internally cursing the pews.
Is everyone sitting comfortably?
This is just the start, though. With 300 people, each with their own seat, we have – literally and metaphorically – 300 different perspectives. How many aisles are optimal? Should the rows be straight or curved? How much legroom should we allow? What about a sideyways aisle as well as a straight down the middle aisle? Should the rows be different lengths or uniform? (This is only an issue for us because our building is unfortunately and inexplicably ROUND. If you are ever designing a church space, may I suggest that you find anyone that thinks that a round building is perhaps a good idea – then come out from among them and be ye separate, as it were…)
One of the suggestions that is gaining traction is the one about having the tea and coffee in the actual main building, rather than having it in the hall, now that we have created space for sociable milling. It’s all fun and games until someone SPILLS THEIR TEA ON THE NEW CARPET!… I hope it’s not me. As long as it’s not Irn Bru….
My favourite layout suggestion is that it’s set out as a labyrinth. You think you can see the way to your seat, but there are dead ends and wrong turnings, and you end up in the front row…
The front row is an issue in itself. Given that each chair cost just shy of £100, it seems a bit of a waste of money to have a front row of empty seats – but you just have to have a front row. It’s just like how the last day of term is daft as no one attends (ahem, in some establishments in some (other) local authority areas, I believe) – so you might as well not have it – but if you did that, then it would just be a different day that would be a waste of time, and the term would just get shorter and shorter…. I wonder if we should make some pretend, paper chairs for a kid-on front row so that it’s not a waste of money if no-one sits on them. We need some front-row incentives. And we should definitely ban the back row. Come on down, people. The last shall be first and the first shall be last.
If the semi-circles of doom ever happen, I’ll be sure to let you know.
Wee Scoops 