Welcome to a new orientation towards city ruins—where Photoshop and urbanism have something in common—as shown in the accompanying image of the archaeological site of Pompeii.

First, the original photograph blends with four Photoshop “adjustment layers”, including monochrome and sepia versions of a formerly all-color background.

Second, as a result, modern visitors show a more contrasting, layered hue against an excavated Roman street scene, over 2000 years after the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D.

Ironically, the Photoshop and urbanist layering combine to suggest a pedestrian-oriented, narrower right of way, often championed today, centuries after Pompeii’s demise.

Amid the partially restored grid of a celebrated ruin, the human scale transcends time. Ancient and modern intermingle in a way that words alone cannot describe.

Image composed and manipulated in Adobe Photoshop (Version CS5) by the author. To further explore Pompeii by Google Street View, click here.

Many of us who write about cities like to share rediscovered videos from times gone by. The videos are especially notable when ideas with currency today are discussed in other contexts, providing opportunities to compare, contrast and sometimes be humbled by history.

Here is a prescient video from 1948, about “Charlie”. This cartoon protagonist champions the basics of the new town movement in post-war Great Britain—a Garden City-inspired effort intended to ease housing shortages. The first phases of the movement brought to the city planning lexicon names such as Stevenage, Crawley, Hemel-Hempstead, Harlow, Hatfield and Basildon (see Osborn and Whittick’s classic The New Towns (1963) for the full story).

An interesting tidbit: as the video explains, the “neighborhood centre” was a key premise of the British new towns—based on the guiding principles of the Reith Report as implemented through the New Towns Act of 1946.

Similar to then-contemporary American “neighborhood unit” principles, the new towns commonly featured structured neighborhoods of 5,000-10,000 inhabitants with at least one elementary school, local shops on two sides of a triangle or flanking a square with a church or public house.

What can we learn from the ever-optimistic Charlie (who ends the video on a bicycle)? Take a look at the video above, or review the script below, courtesy of the British National Archives:

Charlie: Our town was going to be a good place to work in, and a grand place to live in, with plenty of open spaces; parks, and playing fields where people could enjoy them, flower gardens, and of course there’d have to be an attractive town centre too, with plenty of room for folks to meet. Good shops, a posh theatre, cinemas, a concert hall, and a civic centre.

Chairman: We have to plan the residential area next. Let’s consider it as a series of neighbourhoods and take any one of them. Now – how shall we plan? Most important of all is the child. So we’ll need pedestrian routes for the pram-pusher. Nursery schools within 400 yards of every home. Primary schools within safe and easy reach. Each neighbourhood must have its own.

Voices: “Churches” “Community centre” “Shopping district” “And lots of pubs – right next door to me” (answer) “Oh no, you don’t.”

Chairman: Oh, there’ll be a pub quite near enough for you. And finally, we started on the houses. The site was planned for maximum sunshine and then everyone could take his choice.

Charlie: Detached houses – semi-detached – terraced houses. Flats for people who wanted them – hostels where the young folks could get together, and bungalows for the old ones.

And so we moved right in. I’m telling you – it works out fine; just you try it!

Modernize the script, and take away the industry-avoiding colonization of the hinterlands. Consider the neighborhood vision with jobs close to home. I would argue that the city neighborhoods sought by the creative class, multi-modal “Charlies” of today are nothing new, right down to the hoped-for micro-brew a short walk or bike ride away.

A similar version of this post first appeared in The Atlantic Cities.

How should we define meaningful urban places? Who should set the stage?

Both are key questions in managing cities of the future.  The answers are not new.

Harvard Professor John Stilgoe argues for personal observation of the built environment. The title of Stilgoe’s most noted book, Outside Lies Magic (1998), sets the tone for self-inquiry.

Similarly, journalist-turned-urban authority Grady Clay explains how the “undisclosed evidence” of the form and patterns of cities awaits personal discovery.

In Close-Up: How to Read the American City (1973), Clay wrote:

And where are we? Grasping at straws, clutching yesterday’s program, swamped by today’s expert view, clawing at the newest opinion polls, but neglecting that limitless, timeless, boundless wealth of visible evidence that merely waits in a potentially organizable state for us to take a hard look, to make the next move.

Last August, from Italy, I recalled places for people-watching, where “we sit on the edges of the public realm and look in the mirror”.  I cast such places as indicative of safe public environments, including active streets, corners and squares.

But what about more direct observation of place, akin to the teaching of Stilgoe and Clay?

Here are three images of human interaction with urban places. In two cases, history surrounds, and in one case, an intersecting natural environment provides both modification and contrast.

From these images, what is clear?

I suggest five points:

• Humans both occupy and look within and without bounded vantage points.
• Nature, including light, color and climate complement human interest in and perception of the built environment.
• Place observers may expect a result, or a revelation, as part of an evolving story.
• Cities should help such observation by people.
• The stories behind the observers in each image could inform goals and objectives for a city’s future.

In conclusion, without vantage points, we dishonor individual needs.  The images show people observing place in a way that is intrinsic to who we are.

Clay would likely agree:

Experts may help assemble data, specialists may organize it, professionals may offer theories to explain it. But none of these can substitute for each person’s own leap into the dark, jumping in to draw his or her own conclusions.

The spontaneous involvement of the people in the images above shows a path to meaningful urban places. Every city-dweller has a story, a “leap in the dark”, conscious or not.  

The best placemaking may result where developers, designers, decision makers and pundits let astute, everyday users have their say.

All images composed by the author. Click on each image for more detail.

While the Colorado Rockies saw long-awaited snow this weekend, depths remain historically low.  Signs caution of “early season” conditions (more typical of November),  yet the economic impact is still unclear—resort revenues benefitted from robust holiday traffic through New Year’s Day.

This background—a low snowpack and its potential impact on the economic base of resort towns—provides an ironic gloss to my annual presentation at a national continuing legal education conference in Aspen.

Hence, an unoriginal, yet salient question: What of cities and towns built on climate-dependent activities, and the consequences of over-dependence on consistent weather?

After all, enthusiastic, robust tenets of urbanism usually rely on similarly strong, underlying economies.

The presentation is embedded below, and addresses—in summary form—several urbanist ideals, as well as the interplay of market preferences and public policy initiatives in two key areas: redevelopment in concert with new transit infrastructure, and reuse of formerly contaminated properties within urban cores.

Understanding the Domain of the Urbanist Lawyer

Posts from 2009, 2010 and 201l comment on earlier January visits and presentations in Colorado..

Image and presentation composed by the author.

The urbanist calendar published on Monday was, admittedly, a visual provocation, setting a stage for thought  about important urban issues for 2012. I see great merit in such urban exploration with a descriptive, rather than prescriptive approach.

But there is another provocation—from 2011 professional experiences and featured articles—that offer several themes that I expect will also endure.

Here is a synthesis of themes to watch, and why, based on my own encounters, and those of clients and friends.

As illustration, I offer citation to several of my articles as they reappeared in the trend-capturing Planetizen (after original appearance in one or more of myurbanist, The Atlantic, The Atlantic Cities, The Huffington Post, Grist, Sustainable Cities Collective and Crosscut) .

The themes span six subject areas, below.

More Roles for Social Media

Evolving communication technology has forever changed how we analyze and discuss the city.  Social media demands straightforward and sometimes trite efficiency.  Yet it provides for mainstream discussion of topics which were once the arcane domain of the legal, design and public policy professions.   “Even more so” is a safe bet for 2012.

• Make No Little Plans Without Twitter

Renewed Attention to the Romantic City

If we walk between the towns of the Cinque Terre in Italy, then why not capture this “essence of urbanism” at home?  Can an architect and a lawyer from politically diverse countries (and who have never met) together envision a collaborative professional approach which captures universal ways to read the evolution of urban places?

Compelling, illustrated ideas will always have a place in the urbanist agenda, including next year.

• Rethinking the Essence of Urbanism
• Understanding the World’s Urban Transition

Additional Counterintuitive Solutions for Infrastructure and Economic Development

Even “the humble pothole” is eligible for rethinking and reshuffling in the city of 2012.  My tongue-in-cheek story rode the guerrilla urbanism theme. Never-ending possibilities for innovation abound:  Consider the zip line between hill towns, taking the romantic setting to a new perception of the possibilities of place.

With governmental shortfalls still in the picture, creativity, analysis of privatization and related discussions will continue.

• Potholes as Parks?
• Placemaking With Zip Lines

New Types of Regulation and Urban Places

In Seattle, a diverse group convened to consider and recommend land use regulatory reform focused on market flexibility and job creation, both needed foci for 2012.  The Seattle City Council will consider the associated ordinances shortly.

In the mean time, with the closures of Borders’ bookstores nationwide, I urged cities to think about ways to assure “no net loss” for places where people can congregate and spend time together, a.k.a. “third places”.  I also illustrated the potential of the “pop-up”  ice cream laundromat, as an example of the “fusion business” that are increasingly a symbol of the evolving shareable-space city.

Similarly, my recent summary of the Urban Land Institute’s cutting edge “What’s Next?” report showed several ways cities will reshape and evolve over the next decade, based on converging, multiple socioeconomic forces.

• Neighborhood Sustainability the Focus of New Code Ideas in Seattle
• “No Net Loss” for Third Places?
• Fusion Businesses as Indicators of Urban Change
• How—and Where—Should We Live?

Ongoing Importance of Urbanism Without Effort

There will be no shortage of continuing discussion of placemaking in 2012.  Yet “alley movie night” showed that sometimes, we already have what we seek, and urbanism without effort is the best urbanism of all.

• Urbanism Without Effort

Additional Ways to Conceive of Urban Opportunity

Finally, here is a dialogue that may never end.

2011 was a year of protest in public places, which reinvigorated what will be a continued interest in urban gathering places, such as classic squares and city centers.  Other ways to conceive of the city also show potential.

As examples, I focused on the historic role of street corners around the world, and asked whether city vitality is best measured—by five qualities—at night.

One lingering and important consideration:  Not everyone lives in cities, nor is urban life a foregone conclusion.  In that context, I told the story of Lumana, a Seattle-based micro-lending and economic development organization focused on Ghana’s countryside—with a question—should we be more focused on rural than urban areas in the developing world?

• The Importance of Corners
• Is a Vibrant City Best Measured at Night?
• Is Urban Life Overrated?

All images composed by the author. Click on each image for more detail.

Picture this about 2012—an urbanist calendar with places in mind—framed by international snapshots in time.

Each month of this urbanist calendar could echo experience, and provoke optimism through depiction of people and place.

Here is my composition, and perspective, from Seattle and beyond.

January:  Street Vending (Arusha, Tanzania)

February:  Street Watching (Matera, Italy)

March:  Street Blending (Vancouver, Canada)

April:  Life Amid the Creative Class (Gates Foundation, Seattle, USA)

May:  Urban Bicycles at Rest (Florence, Italy)

June:  Iconic Skyline (Seattle, USA)

July:  Urban Density at Work (Valetta, Malta)

August:  Transportation Choices (Nice, France)

September:  Nature in the City (Seattle, USA)

October:  Nightlife (Moscow, Idaho, USA)

November:  The Storefront at Rest (Lucera, Italy)

December:  The Laneway  (Melbourne, Australia)

All images composed by the author. Click on each image for more detail.

Recent reports and coverage show that the skyscraper is very much alive in the post-9/11 world, despite recession and lowrise alternatives to modern urban development.   Hence the timely release of consulting engineer Kate Ascher’s new book, The Heights: Anatomy of a Skyscraper (Penguin Press, 2011), a remarkably plain-language reexamination of tall buildings in a sustainability-conscious age.

Ascher previously profiled the built environment, on a broader, more horizontal basis.  In The Works, in 2005, she examined New York City infrastructure in layperson’s terms, with similar, graphically rich precision.

Now, with the assumption that skyscrapers are both urban building blocks and small cities in themselves, she provides a necessary primer on the hows and whys of contained vertical settlement amid an otherwise horizontal landscape.

A telling hint from the outset:  The table of contents is a “directory” and the chapters display in reverse order, as if building floors, ascending, in elevator fashion, from introduction, through elements of constructability, function, maintenance, sustainability—and topping off with a look to the future.

The book is a remarkable confluence of coffee table display, children’s book fascination, and quick study fact-finding.

According to a reviewer, Ascher followed inspiration from David Macaulay’s The Way Things Work.  The Macaulay-like show and tell style predominates—but for grownups—as Dave Banks notes in Wired.

Full of color diagrams, perspectives and narrative detail, factoids abound.  Topics range from superstructure to building elements (e.g. glass, skin and steel), and include corollary systems (e.g. elevators, air conditioning, safety, fire prevention and energy conservation).

Among the learning: Ascher expects that Dubai’s Burj Khalifa will remain the world’s tallest building for a decade or more.  Yet, the last chapter predicts more of the same “supertall” examples, such as China’s pending, 121-story Shanghai Tower.

After summarizing approaches to reduced environmental footprint and diverse tower shapes, a last section, entitled “How Will We Live?”, entices the urbanist with predictions of the further evolution of mixed-use skyscrapers.

Consider, for instance, the 750,000 inhabitants of the visioned Shimizu Pyramid, a mega-structure standing over piers in Tokyo Bay, with miles of interconnected tunnels below.

While not entirely devoid of context and backdrop, Ascher’s vertical approach in her 2011 effort is more building-specific than citywide.  She glosses over history, regulation and interdisciplinary perspective in favor of design, construction and long-term site maintenance.

One compelling diagram illustrates the basics of floor-area ratio through a comparison of a 1.3 million square foot mixed-use skyscraper versus the same land use spread over a suburban setting.  I would have enjoyed more of such contrasts—about urban form as a whole—and the interrelationship of buildings, streets, blocks and transportation.

But, in fairness, this broader view is not Ascher’s premise, and my preference actually contrasts with Ascher’s core purpose of educating readers, through robust illustration, about the basic wonders and challenges of building tall.

While some other reviewers are in a quandary about the book’s intended audience, I have little doubt that Ascher has created a laudable, one-stop summary that goes beyond lists and photographs of tall buildings. and gives the rich grounding in vertical basics that all students of cities both need and deserve.

Book cover reproduction courtesy of Penguin Press. Building image composed by the author.

To me, there is no exception with regard to cities, and the result is both humbling and inspirational.  I have a working hypothesis that websites which aggregate quotations about cities and city planning are among the most telling chroniclers of the relationship between humans and their urban environments.

Whether generic web destinations such as Brainy Quote or more specific, professionally oriented sites, the range of descriptors for cities give a backdrop for current issues and their context.

One such site, located here, is moderated by long-time Washington/Oregon planner and administrator, Rich Carson, and is a personal favorite.

Carson’s assembly of quotations, along with others I have found, led me to a “Top 15″ selection.

Here is a topical summary of the 15  quotations and accompanying comment.

On the importance of cities

We will neglect our cities to our peril, for in neglecting them we neglect the nation.

(John F. Kennedy)

The axis of the earth sticks out visibly through the centre of each and every town or city.

(Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.)

President Kennedy’s words have new meaning amid today’s focus on urbanization as a driver of the national and world economy.  Nineteenth century “fireside poet” and physician Holmes, Sr. echoes this centrality.  Both statements should remain within the vocabulary of speechwriters.

On walkable cities

A city that outdistances man’s walking powers is a trap for man.

(Arnold J. Toynbee)

No city should be too large for a man to walk out of in a morning.

(Cyril Connolly)

Here, Toynbee, the twentieth century British historian and author of the morals-based A Study of History, fueled the flame for walkable cities.  Connolly, a contemporary writer, editor and critic, was not far behind.  To me, both quotations are far more relevant than arcane.

On natural systems

I’ve often thought that if our zoning boards could be put in charge of botanists, of zoologists and geologists, and people who know about the earth, we would have much more wisdom in such planning than we have when we leave it out the engineers.

(William O. Douglas)

The smallest patch of green to arrest the monotony of asphalt and concrete is as important to the value of real estate as streets, sewers and convenient shopping

(James Felt)

Justice Douglas wryly captures the importance of natural systems to land use regulation and decision-making.  James Felt, a mid-twentieth century New York City developer and philanthropist, echoes the sentiment while Chair of the New York City Planning Commission.  Their perspectives are reminiscent of the holistic view of today’s urbanist.

On growth

In the annals of history, many recognize that we have moved as far as we can go on untamed wheels. A nation in gridlock from its auto-bred lifestyle, an environment choking from its auto exhausts, a landscape sacked by its highways, has distressed Americans so much that even this go-for-it nation is posting “No Growth” signs on development from shore to shore. All these dead ends mark a moment for larger considerations. The future of our motorized culture is up for change.

(Jane Holtz Kay)

Growth is inevitable and desirable, but destruction of community character is not. The question is not whether your part of the world is going to change. The question is how.

(Edward T. McMahon)

Architecture and planning writer and critic Jane Holtz Kay captures today’s focus on alternative transportation modes in her 1998  book, Asphalt Nation, while long-time smart growth advocate Ed McMahon frames the key question of how best to channel and balance urban growth.  Their sentiments remain most relevant to the interplay of land use and transportation, as well as facilitating livable communities with transportation choices.

On children

In the planning and designing of new communities, housing projects, and urban renewal, the planners both private and public, need to give explicit consideration to the kind of world that is being created for the children who will be growing up in these settings. Particular attention should be given to the opportunities which the environment presents or precludes for involvement of children both older and younger than themselves.

(Urie Bronferbrenner)

Bronferbrenner, a twentieth century psychologist and systems theorist, captures the generational orientation of the sustainable city, and his words need little elaboration, except, perhaps, by my supplied imagery.

On the regional focus

The metropolitan region is now the functional unit of our environment, and it is desirable that this functional unit should be identified and structured by its inhabitants. The new means of communication which allow us to live and work in such a large interdependent region, could also allow us to make our images commensurate with our experiences.

(Kevin Lynch)

In his 1960 classic, The Image of the City, urban planning and design academic Kevin Lynch presented spatial tools for understanding cities and their surroundings, defined discrete elements of urban form, and argued for their incorporation into planning practice.  Today, few would argue with his influential precepts.

On urban sentiment

I have an affection for a great city. I feel safe in the neighbourhood of man, and enjoy the sweet security of the streets.

(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

In Rome you long for the country; in the country – oh inconstant! – you praise the distant city to the stars.

(Horace)

Almost two thousand years apart, two revered poets comment, with reference to timeless qualities of city life.

On the people

Any city however small, is in fact divided into two, one the city of the poor, the other of the rich. These are at war with one another.

(Plato)

What is the city but the people?

(William Shakespeare)

Clearly, then, the city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo.

(Desmond Morris)

From Book IV of Plato’s Republic  to Shakespeare’s lesser known tragedy, Coriolanus, to zoologist Desmond Morris’ 1969 contrast of human tribal beginnings with modern life, the city has been center to social, economic and political analysis.  In light of the last year, in which social protest has reemerged in urban places around the world, these three perspectives have never been more relevant.

In conclusion, to better understand contrasting points of view about cities, books, magazines and online articles are not the only informational alternatives.  As the 15 contributions presented here illustrate, Emerson’s opening observation about the necessity of quotation is itself alive and well.

All images composed by the author.  Click on each photograph for more detail.

In the Lucanian Dolomite mountains of Italy’s Basilicata province, two hill towns show the magical potential of place, connectivity and human innovation in unparalleled fashion.

There, where, in the Middle Ages, rocky outcrops were lookout posts, some see an extreme sport in the Volo dell’Angelo zip wire which spans a narrow, deep ravine. I see a place reinvented like none other, worthy of the translation: Angel Flight.

I have written about hill towns before, and most recently in the context of Matera, Italy: the “sustainable city of stone”.

My premise has been that in the face of remarkable challenges of setting, residents still mastered local terrain and natural systems to create local lifestyles that worked well for hundreds—if not thousands—of years.

Castelmezzano, and neighboring Pietrapertosa, are no exception, full of demonstrable cooperation with their defensive mountain settings, presumed megalithic origins and unique local traditions.

As translated from the lofty Angel Flight website description:

Visiting Pietrapertosa you have the feeling that everything is adjusted depending on the rock, such as the many stairs.  These are examples of the symbiosis between the village, its inhabitants and the rock, the live demonstration of its territory, which cannot deny the massive presence of almost unbridled nature, but must make it part of the urban structure.

Pietrapertosa takes its name from “Petraperciata”, meaning “drilled” (in this case honoring the local perforated rock), and is the highest town in the Basilicata region, with its 1088 m above sea level, spread on the rocks of the Lucanian Dolomites, well protected from possible incursions from the valley. This character of a natural fortress and the possibility of dominating the valley of the Basento have favored the presence of man since time immemorial.

Today, as the world moves from tradition to reinvention, Angel Flight is an inspiration.

In 1990, Paul Duncan wrote of Castelmezzano that while most residents still lived off of the land, shepherds came to their flocks in Fiats, with radios to pass the day. Thirty years later, cell phone signals creep around the mountain features and isolation no longer exists.

How can the Castelmezzano and Pietrapertosa repurpose to new economies and simultaneously inspire adaptive reuse which is respectful of history and aesthetics?

The Angel Flight website provides a partial answer, marrying new human activity with the ongoing setting:

[A] new concept… allows use of creative environmental heritage answering a new need and a new understanding of leisure and recreation, tended increasingly to new experiences and to seek new emotions. An adventure in contact with nature and with a unique landscape, to discover the true soul of the territory.

I am not asserting that a zip wire will revitalize empty neighborhoods (hilly or otherwise), rescue overbuilt fringe suburbs or rural towns without purpose. But to achieve other progressive retrofits in the way we live, use our land and travel, we should take seriously the innovative quality of “zip wire thinking”.

An outlier? Perhaps. But it is placemaking at its finest, and an example that I, for one, will never forget.

—–

In addition to my photographs, above, many people have captured images and videos of the zip wire, and further review of the Angel Flight website or a Google search nets many compelling results. Among my favorites is this video from David Kilpatrick of Kelso, Scotland, United Kingdom.

David admirably captures and documents context and experience in a “you are there” recording, embedded below.

All images composed by the author. Click on each image for more detail. Video by David Kilpatrick, as cited above.

From time to time, a single image captures the look and feel of city life, and successfully depicts an urban place where people come together.

This morning, I had the opportunity on the “Place Matters” radio show to explain the role of photography in placemaking, as a tool to better define the personal, contextual experience of a neighborhood or city venue.

The interior scenes of “the three B’s”—barbershops, bars and billiards—often mean as much as the magic of street and square when portraying the personal interactions of cities, towns and neighborhood.

To me, this proposition demands an example, and the photo above portrays such an interior space within a dense urban neighborhood after midnight.

As I wrote last summer about the closures of Borders bookstores, such imagery says more than is apparent at first glance about how local, sustainable “third places” foster the spirit of human collaboration.

Photograph composed by the author.

“Place matters” is a familiar declaration. Its common use shows that profiling places, especially creative, urban places, is very much in vogue. For instance, the phrase graces the Atlantic Cities masthead, is the title of a New York City project that protects distinctive local environments, frames a non-profit corporation and is a campaign of the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

Similarly, the term “placemaking” has reached critical mass. The founder of the place-centric Project for Public Spaces (PPS), Fred Kent, recently recounted the increasing role of PPS around the world, including an interview in The Atlantic, here.

While placemaking is not a profession, it is certainly a practice that has spread across multiple disciplines, far beyond design and planning roots.

One placemaking premise is to avoid politics and pedantic debate (such as “new” v. “landscape” urbanism)—one of the tenets of the movement is efficiency, often without “starchitecture” or directed urban redevelopment. Rather, placemaking is frequently a low-cost, facilitated exercise which helps enhance people’s faith in their cities and neighborhoods.

Accessible media about placemaking includes articles (e.g. Lisa Rochon in the November 25 Globe and Mail), webcasts (e.g. last year’s National Endowment for the Arts panel discussion here), and the currently touring film by Gary Hustwit, Urbanized. In my home town, the Seattle Times’ “Seattle Sketcher”, Gabriel Campinario, often champions placemaking concepts through his regular, community-based illustrations.

Since writing my article last week on how best to portray city life, I have been pondering which form of media is best-suited to convey the stories of places where people want to live.

Based on my own familiarity with the role of public comment and expert testimony in regulatory decision-making, including the influential voices of citizens at a public hearing, I began a search for compiled, consolidated voices on a variety of topics addressing what makes a livable place. I wanted more than generic “happiness surveys” and similar, more data-oriented presentations.

I concluded that we need more than instructive YouTube videos, such as the Streetfilms series. Rather, we need a syndicated, “60 Minute”-style production, which offers interviews about the universality of placemaking, while distinguishing the narrative, custom stories of varied communities.

Then, I discovered such a radio show is already at work, on the other side of the country, in Miami: Place Matters, with Dr. Katherine Loflin.

From my direct follow-up with Loflin, it is clear that the show is off to a promising start.

Place Matters runs Thursday at 11:00 am EST on Miami’s WZAB, 880-AM. It is podcast accessible, and Loflin’s interviews and unique focus are well worth a listen. According to Loflin, it is the only nationally focused radio show in the country explicitly devoted to placemaking:

Through the show I wanted to bring on representatives of diverse systems in “community” (i.e., political/municipal leaders, young people, corporate, philanthropy, researchers, planners, university presidents, filmmakers, celebrity, technology folks, everyday residents etc.) and have them at some point testify how their work and/or background informs a discovery or conclusions that “place matters.” My thinking was if you could look at my guest list and see a very diverse group of folks coming to the same conclusion on the importance of place from their perspective, it would make a powerful, almost universal, statement.

As a veteran, former program director at the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation and Lead National Expert on Knight’s Soul of the Community project, in partnership with Gallup, Loflin is no stranger to the relationships between people and place. The study’s findings on what ties people to their communities helped to frame the show’s concentration.

Loflin explained the project as backdrop to her pursuit of a radio show:

We had been doing well-being studies for a while. They have been called happiness studies, well-being surveys, indicator projects, and the like and they stay important. But they only tell half the story.

Soul of the Community went further. To understand our experiences and existence, we looked at personal outcomes in the context of place—why people wanted to live where they do—and why location matters to them to begin with. We then derived roadmaps of indicated action. These roadmaps are available for further use to help grow people’s attachment to a place and perhaps impact economic growth as a result.

When we spoke last week, Loflin’s graduate degrees in social work with journalistic and community practice concentrations were clear. I asked her about the show’s goals, and about the challenges of translating placemaking to the public over the air. She replied enthusiastically:

Being the only nationally focused radio show on placemaking, the show was an experiment at first. But clearly audience interest and feedback shows a continued need for a 30 minute shot of placemaking each week, perhaps even an hour, as this topic continues to take off and take root across the country.

Through the show, I wanted to raise the placemaking conversation, reflect that conversation back to the field and provide a platform to show the wide range of sectors coming to the same conclusions about the importance of place. I think I am off to a good start, but there is more to do and many more stories, ideas, research findings, and thought leaders to showcase in order to move the field forward.

Loflin’s “good start” is notable in its diversity, and often builds from Soul of the Community findings. The first show featured PPS’s Kent in late September. Loflin’s further shows have featured several on-the-ground examples in Detroit, Toronto, and Chicago.

Based on my review of several of the podcasts, Loflin’s common themes show important sensitivity to the specific context of a place, from the Detroit renaissance to technological opportunity to inventory place in Chicago, and she is most fond of a very key point: Soul of the Community findings show that Generation Y will often move to a city without guarantee of employment, if the place has draw for other reasons.

Her guests largely center on approaches to community development, based on local preference rather than any tendency to unthinkingly adopt a best practice from another place. She clearly allied with Kent in her inaugural interview: look to what community members want, especially younger representatives. Rather than “bag the buffalo”, seek lighter, quicker and cheaper ways to revitalize a community.

Among her more recent guests: Nick Arnett, age 19, who is central to an effort to make Fort Wayne, Indiana a better place with his 12 cities in 12 month placemaking tour, and Sarah Marder of Milan, Italy, who is in the process of filming The Genius of a Place about challenges to Cortona’s unique identity after the attention brought to the town by the work of Frances Mayes (see my piece on Marder’s work here).

I asked Loflin why, given her show’s uniqueness, she chose a title, Place Matters, which was in frequent use already. “Well, honestly, I didn’t know when I started that quite so many things and organizations already use that moniker,” she said. “However, my reasoning when I was formulating the show was that I found myself saying it so much in my speeches—it was a core message.”

She elaborated on her as-applied focus:

After I discovered that so many others use “place matters”, I researched it further and found that still in fact my show’s message and focus was unique as a nationally focused showcase/platform/clearinghouse for place. Plus, as part of Soul of the Community, we really centered on the dissemination and practical application of a project that some argue was the first to empirically show that place matters in real, measurable ways.

Loflin’s interviews suggest the potential for even greater focus by moving beyond her current themes and involving the more project-oriented architects, developers, elected officials and others (even lawyers), whose practices implicate the evolving city.

I asked Loflin, in closing, whether, without such specifics, might a radio show premised on popular terminology become an overbroad proposition. Perhaps predictably, she explained her step-by-step approach:

When you’re trying to get entire community systems to think differently about place, you have to start with the big ideas, and you have to get an initial following in all sectors to help spread the word. Recently, I have begun to showcase resident-led projects, where frankly I see the best placemaking ideas originate – and I think many local leaders, planners (and lawyers) would agree. Perhaps leaders will end up following local residents’ lead in some cases! But I also have a couple of mayors already offering to be guests in 2012 and hopefully they will encourage their counterparts in other cities to listen to the show and adopt a place-focused approach to their leadership as well. In 2012, I’m hoping that those stories can continue be told and provide community leaders and residents with a stream of placemaking ideas and projects that inspire the betterment of their place.

Loflin’s answer illustrates the importance of integrated and inclusive placemaking discussions. Place Matters may be among the best venues to tell the story in a new and universal way.

All images composed by the author. Click on each image for more detail.

Last year, I asked what elements of today’s urban landscape occur in spite of urban land use policy and regulation, and form “shapes of avoidance”. I provided a historical example, and suggested modern counterparts. That was before Occupy Wall Street and its progeny.

Accordingly, Berg’s question recalled my thoughts from November, 2010, slightly amended from the original, below.

______

The form of urban settlements and appearance of constituent structures reflect underlying culture and regulation.

In times of change, buildings, landscapes and objects transform to show the impact of new or modified policies or regulations. And the resulting shapes of compliance—such as the patterns of height, bulk and density dictated by a new downtown zoning code—can potentially reinvent the urban landscape.

But the urban landscape can also be dramatically altered by “shapes of avoidance”.

Consider, in the context of everyday urbanism, those shapes and patterns dictated by focused avoidance of regulation.

Here, I am discussing not just spontaneous parklets and sidewalk tables of guerrilla urbanism” or “pop-up” cities, but widespread examples of urban forms that result when policy or regulation is creatively defied.

Call it the urban landscape’s manifestation of French-American microbiologist René Dubos‘ classic discourses on remarkable and unpredictable human adaptation to environmental change, Man Adapting and So Human an Animal.

A compelling example is the alteration of a southern Italian landscape in the 15th to 17th centuries premised on the avoidance of taxes or fees—the apparent explanation for the unique shape of trulli houses in Puglia, Italy—and the resulting appearance of the Itria Valley and the town of Alberobello.

As the story goes, local inhabitants built the conical houses—that don’t look like houses—without mortar. This method allowed easy destruction, so the Counts of Conversano could avoid property tax payments to the King of Naples on permanent structures (such as residences).

What are today’s trulli?

Are they merely a list of unenforced zoning violations (e.g. unpermitted home occupations, illegal accessory dwellings, unsanctioned tent cities, vehicles on lawns) or perpetual temporary uses?

Given the breadth of land use regulation today, could spontaneous, repetitive trulli-like “shapes of avoidance” define a sustainable urban landscape more interesting than planned examples?

Or are the most visible “shapes of avoidance” now limited to freedom of expression in the ballot box and on urban walls?

After all, some might argue that graffiti and the recent electoral landscape are the trulli of our times.

All images composed by the author.

This article was republished in similar form in the Fall 2011 issue of ARCADE, Architecture and Design in the Northwest.

Media attention to urban life continues, day by day, but to my mind, characteristic rankings, photographs and metrics often need greater historical context, and more robust, real-life punctuation.

While Tahrir Square and the Occupy Movement parlay the daily urban tensions of democracy and authority, cities remain focal points of celebration, as demonstrated in Robert Kunzig’s latest city-as-solution retrospective and accompanying imagery in the December 2011 National Geographic.

Kunzig’s article is, in fact, closer to the holistic focus called for above. By using Ebenezer Howard’s “large and lingering impact” as a foil, Kunzig contrasts the zeal of economist Edward Glaeser, the perspectives of David Owen, as well as a mini-history of sprawl and South Korean density. His approach recalls journalist-turned-urban authority Grady Clay’s treatment of Howard’s Garden City ideals (and largely misplaced American implementation) in a famous 1959 Horizon Magazine article, “Metropolis Regained”.

Two years ago, while granting Clay its Athena Award, the Congress for the New Urbanism brought renewed attention to Clay’s article—as early documentation of back to the city principles.

Clay’s 1959 conclusion still holds:

All these ideas of the New Urbanists spring from their conviction that the city can be saved, but not by denying its nature. The city, they believe, generates innumerable devices for ameliorating the human lot, and we would do well to study these—even where at first glance they look disorderly and disreputable—before abandoning them. Cities have been around too long for our generation to desert them so precipitously. As that admirable humanist Leon Battista Alberti put it in his Deiciarchia, “The necessary things are those without which you cannot well pursue life. And as we see, man, from his emergence into this light to his last end, has always found it necessary to turn to others for help. But then cities were created for no other reason than for men to live together in comfort and contentment.”

Kudos to Kunzig for his artful use of Howard’s life-long quest for a livable urbanism; especially in the context of my memories of Clay’s writings.

But the Kunzig article invites more.

Like Clay’s observations in his later writings (e.g., the “Vantages” chapter in Close Up: How to Read the American City), in the last few months, I have pondered how best to further communicate urban preferences amid a changing landscape. As shown by both Kunzig and Clay, history can supplement two forms of documentation: straightforward photography with authentic, and ordinary personal experience.

To put this into practice, why not develop a simple test to measure a city (over and above complex rankings or metrics) that takes advantage of history, imagery and experience, including daily life? I offer, in short form, an emphasis on a creative reference, an icon and the hope to stay, as follows, and invite others to offer their own criteria.

The value of a creative reference. The founding story of a city is often an influential basis for prominence and evolution. The most famous founding stories derive from creation myths, such as that of Rome. Romulus and Remus, fathered by Mars, the God of War, abandoned at birth on the Tiber River by a threatened king, rescued by a wolf, and raised by shepherds—Romulus becomes ruler after prevailing in the “duel of the titans”.

In my measure, good lore is essential to a successful city.

The helpful role of a visible icon. Among the most photographed and touted elements of a city is a central place or object that can become a focal point for distinction and pride. Once religious or military in nature, modern cities display several exemplary civic monuments or places for ready reference of implied success.

Perhaps the most famous is the Eiffel Tower, which acts as a symbol of Paris in the opening photograph, above.

Most particularly, a compilation of completed statements about “why I hope to stay” can offer qualitative input on livability. For example: “I hope to keep living here because I feel like I can walk safely to where I need to go.”

These answers would not be uniform—some may champion transit, bicycles, parks and open space, good schools or night life—but the “why” question probes at the “comfort and contentment” referenced by Clay in “Metropolis Regained”, or Kunzig’s conclusion.

After saying goodbye to his interviewee, British planning academic Peter Hall, Kunzig explains:

With that he disappeared into the Underground for his ride home, leaving me on the crowded sidewalk with a great gift: a few hours to kill in London. Even Ebenezer Howard would have understood the feeling, at least as a young man. When he returned after a few years in the U.S.—he’d flopped as a homesteading farmer in Nebraska—he was jazzed by his native city. Just riding an omnibus, he later wrote, gave him a pleasantly visceral jolt: “A strange ecstatic feeling at such times often possessed me … The crowded streets—the signs of wealth and prosperity—the bustle—the very confusion and disorder appealed to me, and I was filled with delight.”

The key point: Kunzig, in National Geographic shows how as popular writing on urban topics matures, we move closer to meaningful issue statements about urban life. A narrative once the province of “specialists”, such as Clay, is now mainstream.

But with just a few more questions and answers of the sort proposed here, removed observation is more likely to result in practical understanding of urban solutions and success.

All images composed by the author. Click on each image for more detail.

Whether centered on “reset” or “recession”, there is no shortage of provocative summaries about the game-changing new economy. As a legal practitioner who also writes about cities, I find the most value in comprehensive efforts gleaned from on-the-ground intelligence of urban trends—those parlayed by clients on a daily basis.

Today’s post continues as an exclusive entry on The Atlantic Cities. For the remainder, click here.

Photograph composed by the author.

The genius of the old ways, near Cortona in the 1950's

If universal questions about the dynamics of place need a stage to be answered, there is no better theater than Cortona, Italy, home to Frances Mayes’ Under the Tuscan Sun, and a symbol of the romantic ambience of a simpler life.

There, American expatriate and film producer Sarah Marder left a long career in the banking industry to produce a pending documentary, The Genius of a Place, which tells both a personal and universal story based on 25 years of observing a commercial transformation from a tradition-based, agrarian economy to dependence on tourism and world renown.

The film’s title is no accident, echoing English poet Alexander Pope’s exhortation that we “consult the genius of the place in all”. The film crew followed suit, listening to evidence from the Etruscan past to today.

Despite the idyllic hill town setting (and interviews with well-known icons including Mayes herself, Sir Anthony Hopkins and Jeremy Irons), Marder insisted to me from Milan this week that while the movie was filmed in Cortona, the focus is far broader. “We see Cortona as a symbol for places all around the world facing similar challenges, undergoing rapid change, growth and construction.”

The film crew is pursuing what Marder terms “a balanced approach”, examining the benefits and drawbacks of this transformation. For instance, interviews depict a more dynamic town economy of new jobs and businesses, but also convey how the town center population has dwindled from a post-War high of roughly 7000 to less than 1500 today.

Marder at work in Cortona's main square

Similarly, townspeople explain how, as real estate prices have climbed, locals have sold older dwellings in favor of larger homes in outlying areas. The clear message is one of a changed commercial fabric, with stores now catering almost exclusively to touristic whims, not residents’ needs.

Footage also shows familiar urban challenges, Cortona style. Like many tourist centers, parking availability is often limited. In peak seasons, trash piles grow next to dumpsters. A well-digger explains the need for increased well depths based on substantially increased water demand.

From my perspective, in bridging common urban growth experiences worldwide, Marder’s endeavor is both remarkable and sincere. What happens to an authentic place forever altered by unexpected notoriety, such as Mayes’ arrival, books and films? How is tradition changed and culture compromised? How should growth be managed and a sustainable local economy preserved?

These are not casual questions about the impacts of tourism, but rather about best practices going forward, based on legacies potentially lost. As Marder explained during our several recent discussions:

As I saw things begin to change starting around 2000, I wanted to find a way to document some aspects of Cortona before they changed beyond recognition or repair. I especially wanted to document the way of life of the elderly, which resemble life from centuries ago, because I could see that it would soon be extinct. Ironically, I seemed to be among the few noticing. From the perspective of many, it was a non-issue—most people embraced their day-to-day concerns and were not worried that the town might change in unsatisfactory ways. For them, the town’s well-being followed from a legacy of the past 3000 years.

In fact, places like Cortona, with special topography, viewpoints and strategic advantage, have long driven human settlement. I wrote last year how historic hill town settings are instructive for more than romantic vacation ambience—they contain important lessons about successful human settlement.

These settings blend with natural surroundings; keep up a pedestrian identity, with limited vehicular access; emphasize aesthetic principles (views to and from); communally group institutions around public open space; carefully merge public pathways and private dwellings; offer efficient living spaces and allowance for density; as well as display innovative bases for water collection and storage and management of sewage and stormwater discharge.

An ancient borgo, or tiny village, in Cortona's surrounding countryside

With similar factors in mind, Etruscan choice of city location was typically a matter of utmost importance, carried out by specialized elders who knew how to apply the right criteria for a suitable site. Marder confirmed that as late as the 1950s, town residents were still using 2000-year old Etruscan wells scattered throughout the town.

Considering all that Marder and her team have achieved to date, the film could offer an enviable case study. In Genius’ merger of celebrity together with dozens of interviews with ordinary, yet thoughtful people, insightful views about placemaking in a global economy emerge. In the specific case of Cortona, Marder implicitly wonders whether tell-tale, accidental notoriety should be envied or avoided, mitigated or embraced.

Although Cortona’s recent growth has come mainly from tourism, in conversation, Marder focused instead on new development that has accompanied the town’s fame. She considers tourism just one of the many types of development a place can pursue, usually in a relatively unenlightened way:

All places understandably seek economic development. These same places then find themselves at some point wrestling with the side-effects of development that they didn’t ponder or manage particularly well. They didn’t foresee the future repercussions of their actions and have compromised their place through myopic behavior. That’s something sad and yet we, the creative team, believe it’s a universal story, something that is happening to communities all around the globe.

Until the film’s completion, the best summary of Marder’s message is through the film’s trailer, embedded below, as well as a variety of clips on YouTube.

The team behind Genius has the ambitious goal of a 2013 Sundance Film Festival début, an honor granted to just 1 in 50 films. Plans for 2012 include distilling 4000 minutes of footage into an about 90 minute film by September.

Meanwhile, people often ask the production team if the film is going to propose solutions to the questions presented. While neither a lawyer nor an urban planner, Marder said she is routinely pressed to generate “some policy, law or methodology”, something she said that she “is in no place to do”.

However, she has bigger plans that mirror the best of neighborhood outreach, visioning, and charrette. She hopes that the film will become a tool for promoting “local stewardship on a global level”, perhaps as a catalyst for touring workshops for engaging viewers on the unintended consequences of development in their own town or city.

“Is it Utopian to believe that people in communities could band together to safeguard their respective special place’s long-term interests?” she asked.

My answer honors the efforts of Marder and her film crew. As an alternative to traditional growth management approaches, legislative hearings and city council deliberations, perhaps we all should keep an eye on The Genius of a Place.

For more details on the film and production schedule, visit the film team’s website, here. Historic photo of Cortona-area oxen by Prof. Duilio Peruzzi. Photo of “Genius” on-set by Antonio Carloni. Photo of Cortona-area countryside composed by the author.