I just came out of the weirdest auditorium I've ever been to. Usually they consist of a plateau of rows that gradually ascends or descends (depending on how you look at it) that is accessible through a set of stairs on each corner. This one however consisted of two separate plateaus adjacently stacked on top of each other. Unbeknownst to me I apparently entered the upper floor of the room and found myself at the furthest point away from the lecturer.
The stairs just stopped at the third row, the desk-space measured the entire width of the room and there was a huge fucking chasm the height of a whole floor or two. And to access the lower floor I would have had to enter a completely different tract of the building. So if things are being handed out either secure a seat down there or hone your Parcours skills. The upper floor could only be entered through a quite imposing large wooden door, which was quite remarkable from an architectural standpoint. The lower floor however featured two sliding doors reminiscent of a hospital or a medical facility.
Enormous, beautifully arched windows to the left and righthand corner, but topping out at my shoulder height (sitting down that is) and the tip being obstructed by railings, some kind of block and some sort of rollup industrial drape. The interior design was some weird mix of modernist pragmatism, worn green wallpapers, funkily patterned floor tiles and incredibly spotty barren walls. I know I shouldn't be fascinated by this as much as I am, but what the fuck was up with that room. It's the type of architectural insanity I usually only dream about
