Boris Stoyanov
Savannah Children’s Library
UF SoA
Spring 2022
Children’s Library
Professor John Maze
The Savannah Children’s Library challenges the conventional paradigm of libraries as places of silence and stillness, instead embracing a model where learning and play are intrinsically linked. By dissolving the artificial boundary between movement and intellectual engagement, the library fosters an environment that is dynamic rather than restrictive, inviting children to explore knowledge through experience rather than passive absorption. Here, curiosity is not contained but cultivated, expanding outward through space, activity, and interaction. The architecture itself is an extension of this ethos, designed to facilitate both kinetic and contemplative forms of discovery.
The project also responds to the growing discourse around childhood development, particularly the rising misdiagnosis of ADHD in young boys across the United States. Research increasingly suggests a strong correlation between physical activity and mental focus—children who are given the opportunity to expend their energy through movement are far more capable of sustained attention when they return to tasks requiring concentration. Traditional educational models, which prioritize stillness and compliance, often misinterpret the natural need for movement as a deficit rather than a fundamental aspect of cognition. The Savannah Children’s Library operates on a different premise: that a child’s ability to learn is not hindered by motion but, in many cases, activated by it.
The moment a child steps off the school bus and onto the library grounds, there is a shift—an immediate contrast to the structured environment of the school day. Here, movement is not suppressed but encouraged. The library is designed as an active landscape, where play and learning exist in parallel rather than opposition. The architecture reinforces this approach, offering spaces that support a range of physical and intellectual engagement. Some children move instinctively toward the open play areas, drawn to the opportunities for exploration and interaction. The layout anticipates this energy, directing it rather than confining it, ensuring that even the most restless children find a place to engage rather than be reprimanded.
For other children, the library offers something different. As the sounds of play echo through the lower levels, the top floor provides a quieter rhythm. Along the park-facing edge, a series of nooks extend outward, framing the canopy beyond. A child climbs into one, tucking their legs beneath them, the world outside reduced to the flicker of leaves and the steady turning of pages. Here, the library becomes something else—a space where time slows, where stories unfold uninterrupted. The sounds of the city blur into the background, distant but present, a gentle reminder that the afternoon is slipping by.
The call from downstairs always comes too soon.