rediscovering the road to the sustainable city

Urban integration with geography

Those of us who write about cities should be students of history and experience, and with some humility listen to scholars and the legacy of urban development from around the world. In that sense, a recent summary of sustainable city characteristics by Harvard Professor Joan Busquets provides considerable food for thought and exploration.

According to Busquets, the most sustainable cities integrate natural geography and systems (such as water) into the urban fabric, provide a comfortable city center and have long-lasting, flexible designs. His formula for a merger of geography, comfort and flexibility embraces many issues in today’s urban dialogue, such as increasing opportunities to walk and use transit, to live closer to work and to consequently increase density and the efficient use of urban space.

The comfortable city center

I take from Busquets that a sustainable city also tactfully manages the transition from rural to urban, from country to city. Today’s tools seek to enhance this symbiotic town and country relationship, from the latest regional planning efforts (as recently acknowledged by Kaid Benfield) to innovative organizations such as the Cascade Land Conservancy, which has pioneered incentives for rural conservation in return for more concentrated urban development in Washington State.

Busquets describes the sustainable city as the historical city, which to me, cries for evidence—a physical realm of the sort championed in the late Edmund Bacon’s 1967 classic, Design of Cities, looking to traditional patterned interplay between people and place than modern regulatory tools.

The flexible city on the road to the square

How did this physical transition from country to city happen in history? How was the change in surroundings designed—or not—as one approached the city center? How did streets and alleys play magical roles in guiding travelers to anticipate arrival at focal points of commerce, government and public squares? What of angles and curves, color and light, all modified by architectural features, elevations and building materials? In times of infrastructure shortfall—and absent the ability to redevelop major swaths of land—this element of implementing Busquets’ formulation of geography, comfort and flexibility risks jeopardy, but we should not lose sight of the inquiry and potential lessons learned.

Last week, when discussing “sustainable storefronts“, I suggested that highly evolved cities successfully implement universal urban characteristics from elsewhere in a local context. Other related building blocks covered earlier include third places, corners and fusion businesses.

Next week, while abroad, I’ll be looking hard at how such building blocks can fit together again in places that largely play well with their surrounding settings—in support of the successful integration of natural geography, comfort and flexibility along the way.

All images composed by the author in Puglia, Italy, where he will return next week.

retaining sustainable storefronts in the urban realm

Vital storefronts are an indicator of urban success, while empty businesses are akin to the ruins of Pompeii.

Even when storefronts go empty, some cities find ways to simulate that all is well. False facades, community art and the look and feel of a vibrant business district often substitute for empty spaces through glass.

That’s all well and good in cities. Elsewhere, it’s a luxury left behind.

In a skeleton of a small Idaho downtown last weekend, I explored the remnants of what we now seek in bigger places: compact, mixed-use blocks with character—the neighborhood grocery and the watering spot next door. Several buildings were proudly engraved “1914” and I concluded that if airlifted to my neighborhood in 2011, they would fit in just fine.

Passersby in a pickup truck—a father and son—saw me amid the storefronts, and stopped and watched me for a moment. “Are you from around here?” asked the father. “Do you know if there is a store in town?” 

I could have said no, but instead I wanted to hint at the irony of their search for the vanished vitality of where we were. “Look around,” I said.  “You’ll find that there used to be more than one.”

The storefront may now be scarcer in the hinterlands, but it has found new life as one of the building blocks of the reinvented, more flexibly-zoned city—a primary contributor to complete streets, social interaction, walkable neighborhoods and transit-oriented central places. The passion for such “first floor retail” has been declared and codified in planning goals and land use regulations alike.

Rockville, Maryland’s town center storefront design guidelines are typical of such emphasis, and further encourage creativity in how storefronts present to the street:

Rockville’s “great urban place” sets the stage upon which the storefronts will be
layered. Because of the investment in quality for all aspects of Rockville Town Center, storefront guidelines encourage creative and well-designed individual expressions of tenant identity. Strong urban storefronts are essential in the creation of an attractive and exciting, dining, shopping, and leisure environment.

Highly evolved cities rise above the status quo by seamlessly implementing a universal urban characteristic in a local context, seizing opportunities that have worked before to create the magnetism of success.

However, the romance of an idea can be offset by the reality of the Great Recession—and risks recreating the unsustainable place where passersby ask pedestrians if there is a store in the neighborhood. Recognizing such risks, in Seattle, a regulatory reform roundtable has recommended that certain street level retail requirements be relaxed, to avoid more empty spaces in challenging times.

Storefronts have always made the city, and as economic challenges continue, more flexibility to create dynamic and interesting street uses should remain at the forefront of city-making—mindful of what businesses need to survive.

All images composed by the author.

uncovering embedded patterns of place in the city

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Amid the roads, sidewalks and places that you have visited before, there are often embedded patterns to uncover, read and reinterpret.

This exploration is an archaeology which involves more than unearthing distinct artifacts from another era.  For me, it includes observing the place-based impacts of four interactive factors:

  • The intersection of the built and natural environments;
  • The evolution of transportation modes;
  • The application of associated land use plans and regulations; and
  • The continuation and/or evolution of surrounding land uses.

Documenting this evidence in your neighborhood is one aspect of “creating the urban diary” that I suggested here and described last month:

[R]ather than merely watching someone else’s video, might you further develop and understand your relationship to place, as well as other similar interactions which you observe?

Personal documentation of the journey from place to space—crossing and intersecting the public and private realms—may be the best way to understand where we live, the choices we make and those that are made for us.

Through such urban diaries, each of us can learn more about cities as they are and could be.

Depicted above and below is an sample urban diary of a Seattle walk from the city’s Madrona neighborhood to Lake Washington and back, across both the public and private domains.

As illustrated here, recreational access to water, motorized, bicycle and pedestrian transportation all take place today within the context of the Olmsted Brothers’ park and boulevard designs of over a century ago. The historic intent and uses of the public and private spaces (largely recreational and residential) continue, while land and water-based transportation modes evolve—and the dynamic City of Bellevue skyline provides a visual offset to the traditional ambiance of Mount Rainier.

An urban diary effort can also uncover longstanding urban gems. In this case, two items provide precedent for the often unfunded aspirations of today’s urbanists for more walkable places and green opportunity.

First, stairways and sidewalks transect public and private greenery (which bear street names that begin far westward in Seattle’s downtown). In addition, the .17 acre “Madrona Briar Patch” provides a parklet with picnic table—an incidental path-adjacent space predating today’s similar “pop-up” city venues.

The bottom line? Based on embedded patterns of place, you can read and document the city around you, and rediscover forgotten opportunities along the way.

For a full screen slideshow, and/or to see more detail, click the slideshow, above, or individual images, below.

All images composed by the author.

assuring sustainable third places in the city

Last week, while the Seattle City Council gave final approval to more street food vendors in public places, Borders Group Inc. began its liquidation of most remaining Borders bookstores, including locations in destination American downtowns.

This is related news, because both items are about how public and private uses and spaces mix in urbanized areas. Both raise questions of “no net loss” of urban, and downtown “third places” and how to make a more livable city.

In my view, despite the today’s international focus on urban street food vending, the paradigm left behind by Borders leaves bigger questions for back-to-the city devotees.

Some definitions are in order. “Third place” is a decades-old term championed by sociologist Ray Oldenburg for venues which bring people together in the tradition of the American colonial tavern or general store. The idea remains central to urbanist thinking, and describes those places, other than home or work, where we gather, debate and trade. “No net loss” is a term borrowed from the vocabulary of wetland conservation, and allows for replacement of lost assets with equivalent resources.

“No net loss” is the essence of sustainability.

In the last decade, as forms of home and work evolved, conceptions of third places changed as well—from larger footprint commercial spaces such as Borders, to mid-size bookstores (e.g. Third Place Books), to back-to-the-commons public spaces and the pop-up agora. Street food vending is somewhere in the mix as an expanded place of ambience and employment—and to all but certain bricks and mortar restauranteurs—a likely urban benefit.

In response to the Borders news, some pundits, like Josh Stephens in Planetizen, have called for a better, non-Walmartian reinvention of the bookstore. In his view, big boxes—even when urban— destroy Mom and Pop purveyors. Amazon and Kindle aside, he makes a good case for a new, post-recessionary wave of independent urban bookstore startups. For those bookstores, I hope that he is right.

But as to third places—and I am going to assume that “big books” uses can play such a role—there is something bothersome about the final demise of Borders’ urban core locations. While perhaps an opportunity for the independent competitor, what of the potential loss of third place uses in high-value urban downtowns?

Will the prime square footage occupied by Borders have similar, third place potential once reclaimed? Will replacement uses provide the equivalent, fusion business purposes of books, coffee, lecture and song?

Last week, CNN Money was also abuzz with the the re-realized location efficiencies of heading back downtown. In that spirit, let’s hope that downtowns retain dedicated uses of value to those soon to arrive.

Both the private market and public policymakers should work together on the potential prize of livability: assuring the sustainable, no net loss of square footage devoted to urban third places.

All images composed by the author.

fusion businesses and the cities of tomorrow

When a small branch of a local ice cream business opened within the laundromat up the street, it was evidence that today’s land use regulations are becoming more in sync with changing urban reality.

Recently, I have been focusing on the potential artifacts of urban life in cities as they grow more dense. Last week, I asked about the fate of the front lawn.

Today, in the spirit of the ice cream laundry, I’m switching from what we may lose to what we may gain: the looming fusion businesses of tomorrow.

For instance, what is the fate of technology of convenience such as individual washers and dryers? In what central places can we share, combine and “fuse” their use?

My neighborhood is not alone. Consider Copenhagen’s celebrated Laundromat Cafe, which has fused more than ice cream with laundry, and inspired a trend. Note also some American spin-and-dine examples, such as San Francisco’s Brain Wash.

In order to enable fusion businesses, land use regulations may need more flexibility. In this case, conventional zoning often segregated food service uses from more “industrial” uses such as laundries. In addition. smaller start-ups may have been prohibited within existing uses, with walk-up service limited in scope.

Reform efforts can and should reinvent such conventional impediments to the more efficient, compact city life, and allow the flexibility of innovation and redefined urban traditions. As currently proposed Seattle efforts illustrate, reforms aimed at more livable places can be evolutionary rather than revolutionary, and can enable more employment closer to home.

Beyond regulatory reform, in today’s sustainable city, it’s good to foster shared consumption lifestyles and functional, multi-purpose venues, whether fad, fancy or emerging reality.

Want to track shared consumption examples and the fusion dynamic? I highly recommend shareable.net for a one-stop check on the latest on bike-sharing, car-sharing and prognostication on the next sustainable recombination of the way we live.

Image composed by the author.