Lamp Dome Shade. Tensioned Fabric Canopies. Rolling Counter Shutters.
Lamp Dome Shade
The darker part of a picture
relative darkness caused by light rays being intercepted by an opaque body; "it is much cooler in the shade"; "there's too much shadiness to take good photographs"
shadow: cast a shadow over
Comparative darkness and coolness caused by shelter from direct sunlight
A shadow or area of darkness
represent the effect of shade or shadow on
a piece of furniture holding one or more electric light bulbs
A device for giving light, either one consisting of an electric bulb together with its holder and shade or cover, or one burning gas or a liquid fuel and consisting of a wick or mantle and a glass shade
An electrical device producing ultraviolet, infrared, or other radiation, used for therapeutic purposes
A source of spiritual or intellectual inspiration
an artificial source of visible illumination
Lamp is a television and cinema advertisement released in September 2002 to promote the IKEA chain of furniture stores in the United States.
The revolving openable hemispherical roof of an observatory
a stadium that has a roof
A rounded vault forming the roof of a building or structure, typically with a circular base
A sports stadium with a domed roof
a concave shape whose distinguishing characteristic is that the concavity faces downward
attic: informal terms for a human head
First Christian Church
Often called one of Tulsa's top tourist attractions - Tulsa architect John Brooks Walton considers the dome a "must-see" artwork - the sanctuary actually represents the third home for Tulsa's original Disciples of Christ congregation. Started in 1902 by the newly arrived Marshall family from Missouri, the flock first gathered at their farm around what is now Fourth Street and Denver Avenue. In 1903 they built their first sanctuary, a simple cottage with a bell tower steeple.
"All the other churches held early services so that they could come and participate in the new church," Gray said, sharing a tale of the founding. As was tradition at the time, the first offering was intended to pay off the note on the building.
"They passed the plates twice without getting enough money," said Gray, retelling the story, "so then they closed the doors and passed the plates again, and on the third try they made it."
Although that Second and Boulder facility could hold about 250, Gray said the congregation soon outgrew it and built a 1910 structure twice its size at Fourth and Boulder, featuring a large dome in its center. But as World War I started, that building also proved inadequate for the expanding church, spurring plans for today's landmark.
Completed in 1920 from designs by architects Van Slyke and Woodruff of Fort Worth, at an estimated cost of $250,000, the 1,200- seat sanctuary's ornate plaster interior featured a multitude of stained-glass fixtures around the walls and doors, all linked to the classic dome by several uniform shades of brown and green, repeated images of Easter lilies, cherub wings and the cross of Christ.
Sitting 45 feet off the floor, that dome not only helped light the room, but drove a ventilation system that used shafts under the solid concrete foundation and support structure to cool and recycle the atmosphere. The centerpiece of the dome, which by itself rose six feet, could be elevated another three feet to help hot air escape. Gray said second-floor windows around the balcony also had removable pieces that could be replaced by louvers and fans to create breezes.
"In those days before air conditioning, that could lower temperatures in the sanctuary by 10 to 15 degrees," said Gray.
Many elements of that structure changed over the years. Leaking problems forced the church to seal in the giant dome during the 1930s, lighting the stained glass with electric lamps. That lasted until 2001, when Gray oversaw a skylight restoration by Nosak Roofing.
Continued growth led First Christian to add an education building, Memorial Chapel, and then an annex that connected the sanctuary to the rest of the structures. Gray estimates the four buildings total about 50,000 square feet.
In 1966 the church finished a sanctuary renovation that extended the stage, installed a new Wicks organ with more than 4,000 pipes, took out the choir loft and replaced several plaster features with walnut paneling. Gray said many of those steps came at the expense of seating, which was reduced to about 900. He said 35 stained- glass treasures also were removed, which church members still intend to replace when possible.
"It's a long-term project," said Gray, one that comes with high overhead. Just replacing one of the lost front-door pieces could cost up to $6,000. "We always have to balance whether that money would be better spent on stained glass or on ministry. And of course, there's an obvious conclusion."
About once a month, Kevin Gray takes tour groups through downtown Tulsa's First Christian Church.
They're drawn by the four green domes atop walls of cut Indiana limestone, a classical Greek structure graced with a Corinthian entrance. But what really moves visitors is the large bowl of stained glass lining the interior of the centerpiece dome. Lit by natural light, Gray said the skylight provides awe-inspiring shifts of illumination through the arched chamber.
"It's just fascinating to sit in here when there are clouds and watch the sunlight shift across this room," said Gray, archivist for the church. "For insurance purposes, that dome is valued at $1 million."
Often called one of Tulsa's top tourist attractions - Tulsa architect John Brooks Walton considers the dome a "must-see" artwork - the sanctuary actually represents the third home for Tulsa's original Disciples of Christ congregation. Started in 1902 by the newly arrived Marshall family from Missouri, the flock first gathered at their farm around what is now Fourth Street and Denver Avenue. In 1903 they built their first sanctuary, a simple cottage with a bell tower steeple.
"All the other churches held early services so that they could come and participate in the new church," Gray said, sharing a tale of the founding. As was tradition at the time, the first offering was intended to pay off the note on the building.
"They passe
shopping
Shopping's a bit shit really isn't it.
I mean, come on, as national pastimes go, it's not much to boast about.
Ah forget it. It's not like I actually care or anything.
That's me being a prize twat in Habitat anyway.
And if I can go my whole life without ever having to dress up like Lovejoy again, I will be quite pleased with myself.
Post-it note script: As of Two thousand and credit crunch Nine, there is no Habitat in Leicester that you can go to and stick light fittings on your head in. Dressed as Lovejoy or not.
Somehow or other, this seems like a bit of a shame.
Not perhaps THE most devastating repercussion of rapacious capitalism allowed to run batshit mental wild, I'll readily grant you, but, a bit of a shame nonetheless.