Skye & Sherlock
Skye, have you ever noticed how the layout of ancient cities often reveals more than just practical concerns—there's a hidden logic to their geometry that can hint at social hierarchies? I was just examining the palace complex at Ur and thought it might make an interesting case study.
You’re right, the streets of Ur do more than guide traffic. The way the main thoroughfares intersect and the placement of courtyards suggest who was meant to be seen and who stayed behind. It’s almost like the city’s blueprint is a silent hierarchy written in stone. Your idea for a case study feels like uncovering a hidden letter in an ancient manuscript—just a little piece that tells a larger story.
Indeed, a city is its own manuscript. By mapping those intersections we might read the social script Ur intended to project. Let's begin with the main avenue—what you’ll find is more than a road; it's a statement.
I’ll start by tracing the main avenue’s alignment—its straightness, its width, the spacing of the monumental gateways. Every line has a purpose beyond traffic, and I suspect the layout itself was a subtle declaration of power. Let’s see what the geometry says.