The last week of the year is typically reserved for retrospective, and “best of” assessments. Yet, it can also be a time of hope, resolution, and prediction—an interlude of oracles and dreams.
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.
Ralph Waldo Emerson said: “By necessity, by proclivity, and by delight, we all quote.”
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.
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.
