Green Housing Collaborative

Down But Not Out

2009-07-14T23:19:00.001-07:00

The Green Housing Collaborative is still alive and kicking, but given the current economic situation, increased interest in utilizing vacant spaces, and the success of my other project -- People's Parking Lot (PPL) -- I have not had as much time to devote to the GHC blog. Rest assured that in a few months, when I begin my doctoral program at UW, I will have much more to say, but, in the interim, I suggest that you turn your attention to PPL because that's where the action is.

Public Service Announcement

2009-06-17T14:22:00.000-07:00

The Capitol Hill Community Council elections are coming up next Thursday, June 25th, and will be held at the Cal Anderson shelter house (between the park itself and the ball fields), at 7:00 PM. Click here for more info about the candidates.

Activating Vacant Space via Social Media

2009-06-15T01:57:00.000-07:00

This post is an expanded hybrid of several posts from the People's Parking Lot site.

In response to the demolition of a treasured strip of local businesses in Seattle, I put together a quick video calling for the takeover of the resulting vacant lot. My intentions were mixed: part of me was bored, another part frustrated; I wanted something to happen but I didn't know how to make it happen. So I turned to the internet to complain, rabble-rouse, and instigate: a familiar reaction by much of the blogging community. This would mark the second blog I'd started in a year that was supposed to be the virtual seed of real-life action -- a tall order, I now realize -- but it would also be by far the most effective.

Upon sharing my work with the author of a neighborhood blog, I was approached, via my blog, by one of the organizers of a community garage sale to try and secure this empty lot for a community space. As one of the densest neighborhoods in the city, many residents are without garages and would benefit from an open and visible location.

Of course, my only credentials for approaching the property owners were a video calling for guerilla occupation of their site and a blog that attracted a few readers a day. Luckily, I had just met an industrious individual on a social networking site for design professionals who had a friend working for the (notoriously absent) property owner. Through this connection, I emailed a principal who authorized the use of the space, after reading a proposal that my connection had reviewed (without his review, I wouldn't have known how to approach the property owners; I wouldn't have known that liability would be their major concern, nor would I have thought that the free PR would have been of value to them).

After securing a single-event insurance policy and spreading word of the sale via the aforementioned neighborhood blog, I awoke yesterday morning to walk down to the site. As I approached, I couldn't believe my eyes: there really were about forty sales setting up. People were strolling onto the lot for the first time in months.

My partner -- whom I met five days earlier after she saw my video though a link on another group's email list -- had an easel and a stack of post-it notes, and was ready to ask the attendees what else they wanted to see on the lot. After several hours we had ideas ranging from the immediately practicable (outdoor movies) to the whimsical (corn maze).

In the last few days, the emails from interested folks have been coming in regularly. My blog now gets about 25 hits a day and the facebook group that was only me and my wife six weeks ago has 30 members. With this combination of virtual and real-life exposure and brainstorming, plus a property owner that is open to sharing their space, it looks as if we have the seeds of a internet-based, grassroots neighborhood movement. Who knows what, if anything, will come of it, but from my current vantage point -- that is, looking at this empty lot in the middle of a vibrant urban neighborhood -- the possibilities seem endless.

(Huge) Garage Sale Saturday!

2009-06-11T15:18:00.001-07:00

Check out the 2009 Capitol Hill Garage Sale Roster here. Of 78 registered sales, 38 will be on the lot. Please come by and plan to stay a while.

People's Parking Lot will have a table set up where we will be brainstorming your ideas for the future of this space.

And if you have a buck or two to spare -- to help cover the insurance premium cost -- tip jars will be available.

Garage Sale at the People's Parking Lot!

2009-06-05T14:53:00.001-07:00

Since the destruction of the 500 block of East Pine – former home to Capitol favorites like the Cha Cha Lounge, Bus Stop, and Kincora Pub – to make way for another bread loaf of a condo development, the block has been anything but “vibrant.” After neighborhood residents called the city on its lax enforcement of development standards and the economic crisis made construction projects less feasible, the project was put on hold, hastily paved over, and stood for a short time as a parking lot (a use not permitted by its current zoning). For the last few months, the lot has served mainly as a repository for beer cans and a shortcut for pedestrians, though it has also been inspiration for one painter, and the subject of an amateur video calling for occupation by the neighborhood residents.

However, the lot is poised to regain its status as a social center of the neighborhood, for one day at least. The Second Annual Capitol Hill Garage Sale– sponsored by the Capitol Hill Seattle Blog,Unpaving Paradise, Sustainable Capitol Hill, and People’s Parking Lot – has been granted permission by the property owner, Pine and Belmont LLC (Murray Franklyn of Bellevue), to use the spot as a community garage for all the apartment dwellers that want to participate on June 13th. It is free to participate in the sale but registration is due by June 10th.

This event also stands as an example of the power of social media to connect similarly minded people and allow them to, in this case, have an effect on the built environment, or its use at least. In an age where it is easy to join a facebook group or author and read blogs, without actually doing anything – slacktivism, as they call it – some might consider this small victory inspirational.

In the wake of Unpaving Paradise being awarded $150,000 of park levy funds for the conversion of another Capitol Hill parking lot to a P-patch, could this event be construed as evidence a shift from auto-centric and generally top-down development patterns to a more community-based future, focusing on the needs and desires of current residents? Are we going to get a nice public plaza or a handsome building with local shops at grade on this site? I doubt it, but it is refreshing to see positive use coming out of spaces that sit empty in one of most active neighborhoods in the city.

Information Technology

2009-06-05T02:07:00.000-07:00

In a recent post I wrote about some steps that LEED could take to provide a better assessment of the "real" sustainability of a building. That is, considering the sustainability not just for the building itself but the use, the activity, that takes place within the walls. I suggested that a digital sign displaying statistics related to sustainability might be a way to publicize the building's and its occupants' performance. Lo and behold, I found a sign on the Pacific Science Center in Seattle that is displaying the carbon emissions for far more than the building itself, but for the entire county.

I'm sure reactions to this board cover the spectrum from anger to embarrassment to indifference to pride, but the real victory is that the information is there, glaring us in face, quietly counting the metric tons (one every 1.37 seconds) of carbon that our county adds to the atmosphere. If the first step to solving problems is awareness, this certainly seems like a good start. So, what's next?

Polish Lights

2009-06-03T13:44:00.000-07:00

Not necessarily "green" but certainly a "collaborative" project...

Good Riddance GM

2009-06-03T03:32:00.000-07:00

It's even harder to feel bad -- not that I ever did -- about GM's bankruptcy after seeing this ad.

LEED Evolution

2009-06-02T23:03:00.000-07:00

Expanding on what I previously wrote about LEED for retail, the idea of considering the use of a building when determining its sustainability could be applied to other types of structures like, say, office buildings. Take a new sixty story tower in Chicago that pre-qualified for LEED Gold as an example: an evolved LEED system might ask such questions as:

1) What kind of businesses will be tenants? For example, a traditional oil business would be a strike while an environmental consultant would earn points.
2) How will the employees get from home to the office? Single occupancy vehicles or transit?
3) Will recycling and composting be available and used? (I worked in a Unico-owned building in Seattle where composting was available.)
4) If air travel is required, will the tenants offset their carbon? (my previous employer sent employees all over the world in the name of profit-seeking; I can't even fathom the carbon footprint of this portion of the business operation.)

Integrating such "sustainable business practices" into the ranking of sustainability for the building might also lead to more dynamic public relations. Rather than the USGBC plaque inside the front door, maybe a digital sign -- like a sanguine version of the national debt clock -- is mounted over the front doors and displays statistics related to sustainability and ranks the building in comparison with its neighbors. Further competition between tenants in the same building could also be encouraged, publicized, and rewarded.

This sort of "synergy" between tenants and landlords might also be a less expensive ways for owners of older buildings to get involved with LEED: expensive renovations to meet LEED for Existing Building standards might be postponed -- especially in the current economy -- but rent credits could be extended to tenants shifting to more sustainable business practices.

This is, of course, not meant to detract from the sustainable features of the building itself but, rather, to encourage a more robust ranking system that better represents the impact of a building's existence on the natural environment.

LEED for Retail

2009-06-01T23:18:00.000-07:00

Full disclosure: I am a LEED AP but, while working as a structural engineer, I (unsurprisingly) never had a chance to put my accreditation to use.

Upon reading a post entitled Sustainability Needs Educated Consumers on Sustainable Cities Collective, I was reminded of an issue regarding consumerism and sustainability that I have been meaning to explore: LEED for Retail. Backtracking quickly, the author of aforementioned article argues correctly that consumers have the tools (namely the internet) to educate themselves about how sustainable a product is before purchasing it. He notes that, unfortunately, we are unaccustomed to researching products ahead of time and seldom take into account the processes behind the product: material, production, packaging, shipping; that is, the "whole picture" required to ascertain whether or not the product in question is indeed sustainable.

Extending this line of thinking to the buildings in which these products are sold brings us to the subject at hand, LEED for Retail. My question is, can a sustainable building that sells unsustainable wares really be considered sustainable?

Take a hypothetical Wal-Mart in a retrofitted Brooklyn warehouse, replete with LED lighting, a green roof that collects rainwater for the fire protection system, located within blocks of the subway and bus lines, with solar panels on the roof, low VOC paint on the walls and bamboo floors, and you still have a Wal-Mart. Under the current business model it would sell toys, clothes and household goods that were made thousands of miles away in China, shipped across the Pacific, loaded on trucks, driven to distribution centers, transferred to delivery trucks, driven to the store, and stocked by folks who might have lost their job at a local store when Wal-Mart came to town.

Sustainable? I think not. Is building a LEED certified version of the store better than the traditional model? Yes...but wouldn't a comprehensive ranking system for sustainability focus on the use of the building rather than just the building itself?

I realize that such an assessment of the complete business operation is outside the USGBC's purview, but I wonder if, at least, any of the four innovation credits could be attained by selling, say, locally produced goods? In the most recent rating system (July 2008), a provision that automatically grants one credit for "green housekeeping" -- which is certainly a form of building use, though not its primary function -- has been struck from the innovation credits, but its ephemeral existence is reassuring.

As LEED (or other systems?) continues to evolve, it seems that the idea of exploring the "whole picture" -- the use of the building by its occupants, rather than just the building itself -- stands as the equivalent of understanding the processes that went into the production of your favorite new gizmo, doodad or thingamajig.

Critical Mass

2009-05-31T11:30:00.000-07:00

Those of you reading in Seattle are likely aware of Friday's Critical Mass (CM) ride, or have at least heard of the rides, which occur in cities around the world. As a part-time bicycle commuter, I am enamored by CM both because I am tired of seeing cyclists banished to the edges of roads and, of course, because it looks like fun. I also have a soft spot for any sort of event that involves crowds of people taking action in the street.

Imagine my disappointment when I came across a post on SLOG about the event and started reading through the 200+ comments, most of which were penned by cyclists who disapprove of the event or by other (driving and non-driving) citizens that find it ludicrous and hope for cars to crash into the mass of riders. While there is, of course, no editorial control over the comments section, I'm troubled by both the backlash that such a "revolutionary" (this word is meant in a positive sense, whether or not you interpret it as such) event creates and the cavalier attitude towards loss of human life.

The disapproving cyclists have a point: the event is disruptive and is planned to interfere with the maximum amount of traffic, thereby infuriating the maximum number of drivers and possibly working against bicycle advocacy. Conversely, the road rage-esque rants from many of the other commenters are, in my opinion, founded on nothing but acceptance of our "modern" autocentric "culture" and spite directed at bike-riding hipsters: I'm not sure which disturbs me more. And these reactions shouldn't surprise me: in writing about the Protestant Reformation (revolution) in 16th Century, Jacques Barzun notes that during such times "manners are flouted and customs broken. Foul language and direct insult become normal..." So the comment section on the Stranger's blog is not unlike 16th Century Germany in this respect. No surprise there, though I always have higher hopes for the people of this city.

And in the defense of all CM critics, I must admit that I think Critical Mass took it too far by riding onto the viaduct. Their cause is supposedly to gain safe access to the streets. Bicycles have no business on the viaduct and, while this move certainly garnered them some attention, it also made them look like a bunch of outlaws (but it still looked fun).

The real reason for this post is that I want to explore the concept of CM for a minute. Though there are many threads one could follow in trying to do this, I think revisiting what Jean Baudrillard wrote in his essay The Beaubourg Effect applies nicely to this situation.

Take the street grid -- packed with cars moving to and fro -- as a fluid flow or wave (as transportation engineers do when they design signal timing) as our Beaubourg (at least the real Beaubourg circulates humans in their true form rather than encapsulated in automobiles): rather than itching to see every last cultural artifact, the drivers strive to navigate the city in complete unimpeded freedom: to and from work, to and from daycare or school, to the supermarket, the bank, the mall -- any one or combination of "an incessant circulation of choices," as Baudrillard writes -- insatiably.

Whereas in Baudrillard this build up of motion and energy (violence) itself would become the force that "make(s) Beaubourg bend!," in the case of CM it is a splinter group -- a group trying to navigate the flow, to participate, but being bullied and ignored and tread upon -- that leads to the (Baudrillard's celebrated/many people's feared) implosion. One comment on SLOG compared CM to riots in Compton, which are a perfect example of implosion due to tension and anger. CM is the same urban reality: a concentration of human energy, connecting via shared interests and/or frustrations and acting in a manner that seems appropriate.

Whether or not it is right, smart, legal (freedom of public assembly?), safe, or effective seems to be a moot point. The point I see is that it is happening and I predict (and hope) that the internet serves as a tool to promote such action (assuming that it is toward positive ends, like infrastructure for cyclists). But judging by the SLOG comments, I'm afraid that an implosion among the drivers is a-brewing, and that is a frightening possibility, but an unsurprising one that appears to be a natural response to CM itself.

Rally

2009-05-27T15:25:00.001-07:00

Another public rally here in Seattle, this time over the Prop 8 ruling in California.

Bike Ride

2009-05-26T01:48:00.001-07:00

'Twas a beautiful weekend here in Seattle and I spent part of Memorial Day on my bicycle. My ride took me from Capitol Hill through Eastlake, across the University Bridge, along the Burke Gilman trail to the Ballard locks, across into Magnolia and to the waterfront trail, past the sculpture park, into downtown and back home. I brought my camera but only took a few photos, three of which I'll be sharing here.

The first is a house (or maybe duplex?) on Lakeview Boulevard, a few blocks away from the historic Egan House. While the latter is celebrated as a Modernist Northwest gem, this structure seems to be the bastard child of a suburban faux craftsman McMansion and the Bauhaus Dessau. Assuming that the freeway immediately in front of the house is out of view from inside, Lake Union and Queen Anne look beautiful from this vantage point. However, I can't get over the fact that the freeway noise is deafening, the air toxic (don't open those windows), and that completely exposed western-facing windows sound like a recipe for lots of air conditioning.

Next up is the real-life manifestation of the development surrounding Aunt Esther's house from August Wilson's play, Radio Golf. In the play, the house has a history dating back to the arrival of African slaves; in Seattle, the house belonged to one Edith Macefield and is now surrounded by the Ballard Blocks (which, as I understand it, is a parking garage and retail development with no housing...in other words, a strip mall). Per the Clark Design Group's website, the project is/was pursuing LEED CS Silver, which is commendable, though I can't help but wonder how Trader Joe's penchant for excessive packaging should affect this certification. I believe the plan for the pit in the foreground was to construct housing but, as you can see, it is now a sort of detention pond/graffiti studio.

Lastly, we come to the corner of Terry and Howell in the Denny Triangle neighborhood of Seattle. The squat Brutalist building on the right has come to my attention after speaking to a few renegade architects whom I met after starting up my other site. They pointed out that this building was designed by a celebrated NW architecture firm and even won an AIA award in 1964. It is obviously dated, is vacant, and was slated for demolition to construct a condo tower, but I wonder why DOCOMOMO isn't getting involved in preserving it, now that its demise has at least been postponed? We (the architects and I) have been talking about some interventions to perhaps draw attention to this strangely attractive (now that I really look at it) gem and propose some modifications to it. I see a sort of Ken Yeang-ish affair with lots of plants on the newly constructed balconies.

Parking

2009-05-06T02:18:00.000-07:00

As you may know, I've been paying quite a bit to parking lots for the last week, or at least one in particular. This newfound interest reminded of a post I've been meaning to write for some time, but first I had to get over to Interbay to take a photo.

Here I share a photo taken from the parking lot of the Interbay Urban Center, in the general direction of the new Whole Foods, toward 15th Ave W, with Queen Anne Hill in the background.

I would like to call attention to the name of the development, specifically the word "urban."

When I first saw this sign, I was immediately reminded of the graphic below, from David Sucher's website City Comforts.

While the Interbay development isn't exactly Suburban, according to this graphic, it certainly has more in common with the ugly suburban retail strips that we are all familiar with (if you're not, take a drive up Aurora Ave and you'll see what I mean), than it does with any true urban development, like Brix on Capitol Hill.

I concede that 15th Ave W and Broadway have nothing in common (namely, Broadway has foot traffic and 15th has auto traffic) and it would be ridiculous to think that sidewalk cafes would go over well on 15th, but I can't help but ask if a run of the mill suburban development (posing as "urban," at least semantically) is the right way to go? I'm really asking because I don't understand how this development does anything to promote the kind of city that I thought we were trying to build.

The Times

2009-05-02T15:00:00.001-07:00

In the midst of our current financial predicament, folks like myself in the design community are wondering what lies in store for our futures. Others are proceeding with work, even if the schedules have been delayed. Personally, I have been thinking less about what to build (since I'm out of a job) and have been more concerned with the use of the built (or destroyed) environment.

As I prepare to embark on a new academic adventure in the autumn and am already a month into my new role as a father, I am thinking more about what I will be studying while simultaneously wondering what my wife and I will be doing about childcare. In case you didn't know, childcare is very hard to come by in Seattle (and maybe in all cities?). The waiting list at Mother's, on 12th, across from Cafe Presse is more than a year; at Wallingford Child Care it's at least eight months and then they select children whose age corresponds to their openings. At UW, it's up to three years unless one of the parents is a full-time student, living in family housing...and so on. It's all business, I suppose, but it leaves me wondering why there aren't more child care centers in the city.

My first inclination is that people with kids move out to suburbs. Is this right? I'm not sure. I've been reading William Whyte's The Organization Man and recently finished a portion on how suburbs are designed around children, both physically and socially. Another guess is that people who can afford to raise kids in the city either have enough money for the mother to stay home or to hire nannies (bike rides around the north end of Capitol Hill and Queen Anne seem to confirm this assertion).

Returning to the initial reason that I started this blog (forming a group to develop a green, multi-family building, in which we would live after construction), I wonder if a sort of mixed-use building with a day care center at the base would help promote child-rearing in the city? Perhaps we could set ourselves apart from other childcare centers by only hiring people with early childhood education degrees? I know there are some co-operative preschools out there whose model we could follow, and possibly integrate into the building organization itself (though I would not want to create a sort of kids-only building, just kid-friendly).

Of course, hardly anyone is building anything now, and they are certainly not building weird buildings for people like me. But the fact remains that buildings with such amenities (as opposed to the typical nail salon, Subway restaurant, tanning salon, and check-cashing spot) might make a better contribution toward the overall quality of life for the neighborhood. Regarding funding for the construction, I've even wondered if there is a way to create a fund in which neighborhood residents could deposit a small portion of their retirement? This would, in my mind, be a more productive way (though not necessarily a more profitable way?) to use our money than investing in Wal-Mart and the like. I might be wrong but, like Le Corbusier, I have enough time to wonder about these sorts of things lately.

As always, discussion is welcome and encouraged. And I apologize for being somewhat lazy with the posts.

People's Parking Lot

2009-04-29T06:41:00.000-07:00

In the same vein as my previous post, I bring you this video:

Check out my new site here.

Guerilla Space Acquisition

2009-04-09T14:54:00.000-07:00

After reading a thread on SLOG, I was thinking some Seattleites should take over that parking lot at Pine and Belmont. We could pay for the parking spaces and set up some chairs, jamboxes, guitars, drums, coolers, bbqs or whatever in lieu of cars and use that space. I'll start an email list here: subscribe in the upper right hand corner and I'll transpose your name to a new list and make sure you don't receive emails from this blog (unless you want them: let me know in the comment section). The weather tomorrow looks good...

(photo borrowed from The Stranger)

Mass Production and Place

2009-03-14T11:17:00.000-07:00

Introduction

In the preface to Genius Loci, Towards a Phenomenology of Architecture, Christian Norberg-Schulz writes that space and character – the two elements that combine to create place – are “directly related to architecture, following the definition of architecture as a ‘concretization of existential space’” (Norberg-Schulz, 5). The author then asserts that concretization should be understood in the same way as gathering, in the Heideggerian sense that things “gather the world.” To illustrate this concept, Norberg-Schulz employs two of Heidegger’s examples of man-made objects gathering the natural world: the first is the bridge from Building Dwelling Thinking, where the philosopher asserts that building a bridge between two general locations “causes [the banks] to lie across from each other; with the banks, the bridge brings to the stream the one and the other expanse of landscape lying beyond them” (Norberg-Schulz, 18). The second example is the jug from Heidegger’s essay The Thing: by bringing water into the home it gathers both the earth and sky – “in the spring the rock dwells, and in the rock dwells the dark slumbers of the earth, which receives the rain and dew of the sky. In the water of the spring dwells the marriage of sky and earth…” (Norberg-Schulz, 168) – and is therefore a thing that connects man to his life-world.

It is this concretization of the natural environment that is a prerequisite for dwelling, which occurs when man can “orientate himself within and identify himself with an environment” (Norberg-Schulz, 5). It follows that when man dwells within a meaningful environment, he is not simply existing in a random location, but actively living and interacting in a unique place.

In a traditional setting, where the buildings and objects (things) of daily use are extensions of the immediate surroundings, a relationship between the individual and place is likely to form. Conversely, in the contemporary world – where architecture does not necessarily reflect the surrounding natural environment, where mass-produced objects are often sold thousands of miles from the sources of material and labor that create the products, and where people move freely between cities and countries – such relationships may be more difficult to develop. Edward S. Casey terms this loss of place displacement – as opposed to implacement, which he considers essential to human well-being and “an ongoing cultural process [that] acculturates whatever ingredients it borrows from the natural world, whether these ingredients are bodies or landscapes or ordinary ‘things’” (Casey, 31) – and regards nostalgia a preeminent symptom of being displaced. Thus, unsurprisingly, Victor Papanek writes of the “simple, modest dwellings of the past [that] exert a strong fascination, and offer a beguiling area for research and study” (Papanek, 113). In light of this “fascination” with traditional, pre-industrial times, the intention of this paper is to explore some of the fundamentals that have historically promoted a strong “sense of place,” and to examine how the modern mode of life, namely the mass production and consumption cycles, has affected the relationship between humankind and place.

Place

J.B. Jackson asserts that the term “sense of place” is “an awkward and ambiguous modern translation of the Latin term genius loci” (Jackson, 24) that actually refers to the guardian divinity of a place, rather than the place itself. On-site rituals and celebrations that paid homage to the divinity thus imbued the place with a special status that, in the modern world, has come to be understood as the atmosphere of a place, or “the quality of its environment” (Jackson, 24). Norberg-Schulz insists that atmosphere, or character, is what distinguishes a place from mere space, and asserts that place is a “qualitative ‘total’ phenomenon,” which cannot be reduced “to any of its properties…without losing its concrete nature” (Norberg-Schulz, 8). Due to the concrete nature of place and its components, Norberg-Schulz turns to the qualitative method of phenomenology – “a return to things, as opposed to abstractions and mental constructions” (Norberg-Schulz, 8) – to analyze place. His analysis leads to a framework for understanding the elements that compose both natural and man-made places.

The first of the two basic components of place that Norberg-Schulz examines is space. Rather than focusing on “space as a three-dimensional geometry [or] space as a perceptual field,” both of which he considers abstractions of everyday lived space, the author calls for a “concrete space,” which is the setting for “concrete human actions [and is] distinguished by qualitative differences” (Norberg-Schulz, 11). Interiority and exteriority are two characteristics implicit in the description of concrete space and, therefore, Norberg-Schulz asserts that extension and enclosure are qualities inherent to any concrete space.
While extension and enclosure can be understood at many scales ranging from the interior of a room to the limits of a city, it is helpful to use Norberg-Schulz’s conception of a landscape (extension) containing settlements (enclosures). Landscapes are also enclosed by topography and/or the horizon, and settlements have their own extensions, but this model is especially relevant as a segue to the concept of environmental scales. As the name suggests, spaces can contain other spaces, as demonstrated by a house within a city, located within an encompassing landscape. It is within this hierarchy that the sense of a place is “gathered” by the buildings and things within it. Thus Heidegger’s aforementioned jug – constructed of clay from the region in which it is used – brings water that is part of an extensive hydrological system to a table in an enclosed room. The jug “‘explains’ the environment and make[s] its character manifest,” (Norberg-Schulz, 16) and thereby becomes meaningful since the place itself meaningful.

Character, the second component of place, is, paradoxically, “a more general and a more concrete concept than space” (Norberg-Schulz, 13), in that it can convey both the general atmosphere of a place as well as distinct properties of the boundaries and elements of a space. Norberg-Schulz asserts that the character of natural and man-made places can be understood by asking “how” is a place; general adjectives such as “safe” or “confusing” can describe atmosphere, while distinct objects, such as boundaries – or facades, in the case of buildings – should be examined with respect to their material and “formal articulation” (Norberg-Schulz, 14). In the case of material, the different visual and tactile qualities of, say, stone and vinyl siding would be considered. The former is imperfectly colored by nature and coarse to the touch; the color of the latter is uniform and it is mechanically planed smooth. Formal articulation can be understood as how something is built – hand-crafted or by machine – and how it visually relates to its surrounding environment.

It is through the combination of space and character that the “spirit of place,” or genius loci, can be understood “as an environment consisting of definite characters” (Norberg-Schulz, 18). In a time of global interconnectivity, vanishing local traditions and accents, and increased urbanization, it is important to keep in mind the existential importance of being from somewhere in particular, and, in the interest of well-being, being able to return home for rest and repose.

Nature, Mass-produced Objects and Place

Following Norberg-Schulz’s assertion that it is through concrete things that we understand place, it will be illuminating to focus on several concrete examples of mass-produced objects and examine if and how they “gather” the surrounding environment. Two “products” of industrialization will be investigated: the railroad system and the modern coffee shop. Each of these is a product that also requires buildings (stations and the coffee shop itself). But before addressing these concrete things, it is worth revisiting the concept of environmental levels and exploring the all-encompassing level of nature, specifically the unspoiled landscape of North America from the colonial years up to the dawn of the industrial revolution.

At two extremes, there is the landscape as the overarching environmental level and the body as the most compact. Casey considers the body “the primary agent in the landscape” (Casey, 26) and considers that which exists between the body and the landscape “place.” He then asserts that place has a “distinctively cultural dimension” (Casey, 29). This cultural bridge between body and nature is clearly represented by the garden, which can be understood as a cultivated middle ground – or boundary (enclosure) – between civilization and nature, and can serve as a dwelling place. This sort of dwelling can be understood informally as wandering throughout a cultivated place, like a park, or more formally as the perambulation rituals – the inspection of the boundaries of a place – that Casey dates back to ancient Rome (Casey, 155). This garden metaphor is especially poignant when considering the industrialization of the bucolic North American continent.

In The Machine in the Garden, Leo Marx writes that “the European mind was dazzled by the prospect” of “withdraw[ing] from the great world and begin[ning] a new life in a fresh, green landscape” (Marx, 3). Previously, this opportunity was merely the stuff of dreams, dating back the gentlemanly shepherd of Virgil’s Ecologues. The resulting pastoralism, which Marx describes as having two manifestations – popular and sentimental on one hand, imaginative and complex on the other – was thus embodied in the American culture from the beginning. Moreover, opposing conceptions of the land as cultivated and threatening arose, but both were seen as freedom from the complexities of civil society. Marx cites Shakespeare’s The Tempest – written during the age of exploration – as an imaginative and complex work that explores these disparate points of view, and ultimately “affirms the impulse of civilized man to renew himself by immersion in the simple, spontaneous instinctual life” (Marx, 60) found in nature. Almost two centuries later, Thomas Jefferson was of the same opinion. He was a proponent of rural virtues that saw mechanization as a means to unburden the worker, but despised the factories and cities required to create the machines (he later admitted domestic industrial production was better than falling behind Europe economically). Ralph Waldo Emerson took a similar position: he, somewhat surprisingly, supported the construction of the railroad since it would give urban dwellers access to the cleansing power of nature.

Railroads

As the railroad network grew – spurred by open land, vast resources, technological ingenuity, and “a democracy which invites every man to enhance his own comfort and status” (Marx, 204) – it “gathered” settlements once separated by great distances and captivated the popular imagination. Like Heidegger’s bridge, it created important places at each terminus. For instance, in the 1860s, before the railroad arrived, Denver was losing residents who were not as successful in mining for gold as they had been previously. But with the arrival of the Denver Pacific Railroad, Denver established itself as the hub in the Rocky Mountain region. Industrial works popped up all over the city and “by 1900, a hundred trains a day snorted in and out of Denver’s Union Station” (Noel, “Mile High City”). In Norberg-Schulz’s terms of extension and enclosure, the railroad extended westward the flexible boundary of the place called the United States: for example, in 1869, the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans were connected by rail, thus concretizing the concept of Manifest Destiny, and giving future settlers a direct route to the west.

The railroad also expressed the character of the young country, which was embroiled with the idea of “progress,” in both the technological and social spheres of life. “The railroad, animated by its powerful locomotive, appears to be the personification of the American,” wrote Guillaume Poussin in the mid-nineteenth century, after visiting from France (Marx, 208). In his speeches, Daniel Webster, the eminent New England politician, celebrated the national unity and social equality that the new technology would bring. As “a mode of conveyance available to the rich and poor alike” (Marx, 210), Webster’s tenant farmers considered it “their railroad,” upon seeing construction materials along the future alignment. This “visual possession” of the landscape, of which the railroad was becoming a part (Figure 1), evokes what Humphrey Breton considered appropriation of the landscape through the gaze. Commenting on Breton’s idea, Casey writes, “one appropriates one’s own property not just legally but by looking at it from the windows of one’s house” (Casey, 170). Though the tenant farmer does not literally own either the land or the railroad, this concept partially explains how the popular imagination could become enamored with the expanding railroad.

In his speeches, Webster mocked the idea that the railroad disturbed the peace of the countryside and desecrated the landscape, and encouraged its proliferation to aid serious, profit-seeking enterprises. While reluctant supporters like Thomas Jefferson would have likely envisioned the sort of human-scale harmony between industry and nature that Tony Garnier later expressed in Une Cite Industrielle, the result was much different. Rather than the careful integration of industry within the natural landscape, the result was industrial zones that developed around railroad tracks in urban areas; zones that Jane Jacobs considers border vacuums. She asserts that “by oversimplifying the use of the city at one place, on a large scale, [border vacuums] tend to simplify the use which people give to the adjoining territory” (Jacobs, 259). This simplification, which appears visually as a homogenous expanse of indistinct buildings, is anathema to the diversity that she considers a driver of vibrant cross-use and a resulting strong character.

To understand the impacts of such an area on the sense of place, it is helpful to return to Norberg-Schulz. He writes, “when man dwells, he is simultaneously located in space and exposed to a certain environmental character,” and that to “to gain an existential foothold, man must be able to orientate and identify himself with the environment” (Norberg-Schulz, 19). The concept of orientation depends on understanding the spatial structure of the surrounding environment, or, in other words, creating a mental image. In The Image of the City, Kevin Lynch christens the ability of an area to produce mental images imageability and seeks to determine which elements promote it. He identifies five categories – paths, edges, districts, nodes and landmarks – by which to understand places, and asserts that “they must be patterned together to provide a satisfying form” (Lynch, 83), or, as Norberg-Schulz might say, a qualitative total phenomenon.

An industrial zone, built up around the railroad, can be considered a district since it has some common characteristics and can be entered mentally (Lynch, 66). While an industrial district, such as South Seattle, does have a sort of continuity between the building types – single story metal structures, in the case of Seattle – that is required to define a district, there is no set interrelation between them, and therefore is not particularly memorable. Furthermore, the district is checkered with parking and vacant lots, crisscrossed by homogenous paths (roads), and lacks distinct landmarks or nodes that serve as gathering places. Per Lynch’s criteria, the image of such an area is weak and therefore orienting oneself within it is difficult. Lynch, evoking Norberg-Schulz, writes that “if the environment is visibly organized and sharply identified, then the citizen can inform it with his own meanings and conceptions. Then it will become a true place, remarkable and unmistakable” (Lynch, 92). Furthermore, as a purely utilitarian construct that does not reflect the natural environment, it fails to connect citizens to the higher environmental levels, and thus further neglects the role of an authentic man-made place.

Conversely, a train station – a node and an often a landmark, in Lynch’s terminology – can be an imageable place and contribute to the sense of place of a larger district or city. Lynch writes that such places are important as junctions, where people must make choices and therefore perceive their surroundings with greater clarity, and as thematic concentrations. A classic American example of such a node/landmark is the Grand Central Terminal in New York City. Functionally, it gathers workers from the surrounding bedroom communities; it is a junction where commuters can enter the city and either make their way out on to the surface streets or transfer to the subway in the adjacent station. Thematically, the terminal is important as a transit hub, a retail concentration, a tourist attraction and as an enduring example of Beaux-Arts style architecture.

It is also helpful to analyze Grand Central Terminal with respect to Norberg-Schulz’s five phenomena by which humans understand natural and man-made places: (natural) things, (cosmic) order, character, light and time. The limestone façade reflects the natural world out of which the station was built, while the classical style of the building and its orientation on the gridiron structure of Manhattan’s street system evoke the Roman cardo-decumanus system that pays homage to the four cardinal directions. The building projects a bold character: it appears “serious,” to use Webster’s adjective for such railroad and industrial enterprises, and rests atop the earth, signifying that the rail system has conquered space and time. Light is also an essential feature of the building, whether reflecting off the white exterior or famously entering the lobby through the grand windows (Figure 2). Time, too, is represented explicitly, via the exterior clock and train timetables, and implicitly through the classical architecture and the nod to times past in which the railroad was the dominant form of transportation.

Furthermore, the terminal confirms Norberg-Schulz’s position that “places conserve their identity during a certain stretch of time” and “should have the ‘capacity’ of receiving different ‘contents’” (Norberg-Schulz, 18), as is demonstrated by its current incarnation as a functional node for travel, as a tourist destination – the terminal “gathers” tourists – and even as a stage for public performance art.

From the brief examination above, it should be evident that the railroad – America’s first foray into industrialization and mass production – has had a remarkable influence on the sense of place of the nation and its cities. Many options for further study of sense of place with relation to the railroad could be pursued: one could be an examination of the small communities that grew up around the railroad and how they have responded to urban growth at the termini that have, in many cases, “gathered” the later generations of small-town citizens; another possible thread to explore could be the sense of place that Beat Generation wanderers felt for the railroad itself, rather than for – or in addition to – the cities that the railroad connected.

Coffee

That ubiquitous white paper cup with the green circle around the crowned siren can be interpreted as a contemporary version of Heidegger’s jug. Rather than gathering the world through the water from a nearby spring, the (disposable) Starbucks cup gathers water from the municipal system, coffee beans from afar and, depending on the customer’s order, a wide variety of dairy and artificial flavorings from diverse natural and artificial origins (and that is not even counting the labor and resources consumed to create and ship the ingredients, build the store or bring the customers to the cash register). The extent to which that paper cup gathers – whether one is enjoying a beverage in Seattle, Paris or Beijing – is not just the local slices of earth underfoot and sky overhead, but a synthesis of places that would be best measured by latitude and longitude.

The question of whether this complex mode of gathering helps concretize the surrounding world, of whether it promotes understanding of the enclosing natural environment and therefore promotes dwelling, remains. Norberg-Schulz writes that “if a thing does not [concretize or reveal life it its various aspects], it is not a thing but a mere commodity” (Norberg-Schulz, 169). To answer this question, the cup of coffee must be further scrutinized.

Ignoring for a moment that this particular cup is disposable and emblazoned with a logo, it can be considered what Le Corbusier terms a type-object. According to his definition, such an object supplements our natural capabilities by serving typical human needs, or type-needs; it is “a docile servant [that is] discreet and self-effacing” (Le Corbusier, 79). A Corbusian cup would likely fall somewhere between Heidegger’s jug (as the work of a craftsman) and the disposable Starbucks cup. It would differ from the former in material (likely metal in lieu of clay) and production (mass-produced rather than hand-crafted); it would differ from the latter in material (metal rather than paper), be free of logos and intended for reuse. And while Le Corbusier would likely consider his mass-produced type-object an improvement over the vernacular jug, he would almost certainly consider the Starbucks cup a piece of disposable junk to be hidden beneath decoration (as his Industrialist suggests in “A Hurricane,” the chapter on the Industrial Revolution in The Decorative Art of Today), in the same manner that a coffee connoisseur would accuse the chain of “burying bad [coffee] flavor under [flavored] syrups” (Clark, 213). Therefore neither the beverages nor the container clearly concretize the immediate natural environment.

However, Starbucks coffee shops are undoubtedly successful at gathering people, both as a daily ritual and, in the case of the original store in Pike Place Market, a tourist destination. Promoting their shops as a third place, Starbucks strives to “capture a unique warmth that sets it apart from the first two places in most people’s lives: work and home” (Michelli, 11). And while Starbucks has been successful at establishing itself as such, the effects of their distribution (layout within concrete space) and design (character) on the sense of place – in the urban fabric and within the store itself, respectively – should be examined.

Above all else, Starbucks prides itself on being convenient. For instance, when driving toward an urban center, the majority of the Starbucks outlets will be on the right-hand side of the road, making them easily accessible to commuters (Clark, 117). This convenience also extends to the function of the store: if the lines are becoming too long in any one location, the company will often open another nearby. Such development patterns parallel suburbanization in their ostensible devotion to immediate satisfaction, and consequently mesh well with the decentralized layout of such areas. However, with regard to developing a strong sense of place, coffee shops distributed in such a manner – namely those with drive-thru windows – do not promote dwelling. The drive-thru window is much like the hotel room that Casey describes as “the very essence of transiency, of not dwelling somewhere, of merely passing through on one’s way to somewhere else” (Casey, 114). Moreover, he continues to explore the etymology of the verb “to dwell,” and notes that the Old Norse dvelja means “to linger,” a concept that is antithetical to the drive-thru window. By integrating such a feature into its outlets, Starbucks reduces its chances of creating a true place. Furthermore, by virtue of their omnipresence – which some critics say homogenizes neighborhoods; in some cases two shops have been opened across the street from one another (Figure 3) – the shops also contribute heavily to the character of the areas in which they are located. Namely, the joy of discovering something new from among many choices is supplanted by the expectation of the old standby.

Of course, the “unique warmth” that Starbucks strives to project is typically inside the shop rather than on the outside, much like a typical suburban home, and does invite the customer to linger. The interior is a concrete space, enclosed by glass, and is designed by staff architects to create the desired atmosphere. In a maneuver very similar to that of AEG under Peter Behrens, Starbucks carefully designs everything from the interior finish color palette and lighting down to the napkins and music. The color palette endeavors to reconnect the store interior, the product and natural environment by using green, red, blue and yellow, which correspond to ancient four elements of the earth: earth (growing beans), fire (roasting beans), water (brewing coffee) and wind (aroma of coffee) (Clark, 104). Starbucks’ standard layout also evokes Behrens’ design philosophy that expresses function as part of the aesthetic by placing the espresso machine front and center (Clark, 102).

Though many of the design features are present in all the stores, “leadership chose to consciously meld [the] consistent environmental features in its store designs with community-based nuances” (Michelli, 57), in a sort of customization that evokes Kieran and Timberlake’s ideas for an evolution in mass-produced housing, and also reflects the popular beverage customization – “two-pump vanilla, half-caf, soy latte” – that supposedly personalizes a drink that comes off a miniaturized production line. On the surface, this idea seems to jibe with Norberg-Schulz’s call for “modern architecture [to] give buildings and places individuality, with regard to space and character” by “tak[ing] the circumstantial conditions of locality and building task into consideration” (Norberg-Schulz, 195). However, his examples of successful local adaptations are reserved to landmark projects by the likes of Alvar Aalto, Le Corbusier and Louis Kahn, which are all distinctly different types of projects than a typical strip mall Starbucks outlet. Nevertheless, Starbucks has, according to Lawrence Cheek, the architecture critic at the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, adapted some its stores to their surroundings. Specifically he discusses a store on Mercer Island that is “a dramatic Northwest contemporary shed with a high-rise roofline, an inviting lattice-sheltered drive-thru queue, and structural biceps strutting nakedly and exuberantly on the outside” (Cheek, “On Architecture.”). Though this case is encouraging, the fact remains that most outlets are more similar than not, and questions about the resulting “place-ness” remain unanswered.

Jean Baudrillard shines some light on the concept of reproductions in his essays on simulacra and simulation. In discussing an exact replica of the Lascaux caves, which was constructed to save the original from tourist traffic, he writes that “from now on there is no longer any difference: the duplication suffices to render both artificial” (Baudrillard, 9). With the “disappearance” of the original, it is impossible to determine which came first and what now remains is two “copies” – the very definition of a simulacrum: “a real without origin or reality” (Baudrillard, 1). While Starbucks outlets are certainly not “exact replicas,” this situation seems applicable since they are often indistinguishable. Baudrillard continues to describe the homogenizing affect of such places on visitors as “controlled socialization: retotalization in a homogenous space-time of all dispersed functions of the body and of social life (media, leisure, media culture)” (Baudrillard, 67). Though this statement is undoubtedly hyperbolic, when one considers that Starbucks are typically opened in areas with similar demographics – levels of high income, population and education (Clark, 119) – and that the employees are encouraged to interact with customers in a similar manner, the homogenizing force is evident. Or consider the books and music that many outlets are now selling: each selection could be described as innocuous or wholesome – “feel-good” Mitch Albom books rather than fatwah-inducing, thought-provoking works like Salman Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses; universally-accessible jazz by Norah Jones instead of, say, the politically-charged stylings of Rage Against the Machine – and is directed at customers that might rightly be described as “the Starbucks type.” Such a place may in fact exude a strong sense of place and concretize an existential space, but one is left wondering if that is necessarily a good thing.

Casey also offers an interpretation of replicated places; returning his discussion on cultivating gardens, he writes that “cultivation as caring-for extends to the architectural realm as well” (Casey, 173). He insists that to become dwelling-places, buildings must be cultivated – personalized, cared-for and settled-into by the users – and that this process begins when the place is constructed. The care required to undertake such a construction process evokes the vernacular craftsmanship that Modernists seek to replace by mass-production: according to Casey, the builder must consider the materials, the immediate surrounding of the future building, the entire landscape and even the desires of the future end-users (Casey, 174).
While this degree of care is rarely taken in contemporary construction, on a spectrum of the resulting “place-ness” of a building, it could be considered the ideal. The opposite end of the spectrum would be Kieran and Timberlake’s mass-produced/mass-customized building: “places destined for dwelling are neither merely presented to us as already made…nor can they be built instantly or ex nihilo [italics added]” (Casey, 174). A typical Starbucks outlet, with its mass-produced, standardized design features, would probably fall closer to the Kieran and Timberlake model than to the Casey model, thus making it less of a distinct place than upper management would like to believe.

In conclusion, the widely reproduced Starbucks experience – though it can take place in an environment that is distinct when compared with other places, excluding other Starbucks outlets – seems to be without significant qualitative differences and a standardized product of mass production, meant for mass consumption, which is essentially the definition of a commodity. And while that paper cup does, in a way, concretize the complex, globalized modern world, its nature as a piece of such an entangled web prohibits it from concretizing the nature of a unique place.

Conclusion

As can be seen by the extent of this discussion, the effect of mass production on the concept of “sense of place” is both complex and far-reaching. It is, nevertheless, a relationship that has implications on the well-being of humanity, the aesthetic quality of the built environment and, though it was not explicitly examined in this study, the ecological health of the planet. And while the chosen examples of railroads and Starbucks coffee shops could be investigated further, as could many other staples, past and present, of American culture, an interesting direction to extend this study would be into the realm of high-technology. An especially interesting angle to take would be a study of the worldwide “gathering” capability of portable communication devices, and the resulting effect on place, considering that users can be both in a concrete, physical place and an abstract, virtual place.

Works Cited

Baudrillard, Jean. Simulacra and Simulation
Casey, Edward S. Getting Back Into Place
Cheek, Lawrence. “On Architecture: Starbucks puts a double shot of hometown flavor into every store”
Clark, Taylor. Starbucked: A Double Tall Tale of Caffeine, Commerce, and Culture
Jackson, J.B. A Sense of Place, a Sense of Time
Jacobs, Jane. The Death and Life of Great American Cities
Kieran, Stephen, and Timberlake, James. Refabricating Architecture
Le Corbusier. The Decorative Art of Today. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1987
Lynch, Kevin. The Image of the City
Marx, Leo. The Machine in the Garden
Michelli, Joseph. The Starbucks Experience: 5 Principles for Turning Ordinary Into Extraordinary
Noel, Thomas J. “Mile High City”
Norberg-Schulz, Christian. Genius Loci: Towards a Phenomenology of Architecture
Papanek, Victor. The Green Imperative

Thank You, Escala

2009-02-19T00:38:00.000-08:00

Therefore a good many city streets (not all) need visual interruptions, cutting off the indefinite distant view and at the same time visually heightening and celebrating intense street use by giving it a hint of enclosure and entity.

-- Jane Jacobs, in the chapter "Visual order: its limitations and possibilities," from The Death and Life of Great American Cities

Of course, there are many complaints to be waged against Escala -- namely that it is essentially a gated suburb in the middle of the city, complete with a private social club, that will further isolate the building occupants from the homeless kids two blocks away in the Westlake Park -- but that's not the point of the post. The "visual interruption" that the building provides is welcome from this vantage point, in the "Financial District," or whatever they are calling this block (note that Escala is in "Midtown," according to its website). For that, and only that, I thank Escala.

Understanding Las Vegas

2009-02-17T20:00:00.000-08:00

Works referenced:
Learning From Las Vegas, Robert Venturi et al
Neon Metropolis, Hal Rothman

Understanding Las Vegas

While Venturi et al’s “study of method, not content” (6) is an incredibly valuable investigation of a tangible, concretely expressed Las Vegas, it falls short of laying a groundwork for the new intellectual organization that Rothman insists is necessary to understand Las Vegas. Rather, their study could perhaps be better understood as a catalogue of specific visual symptoms endemic to a society mired in the unreality of the postmodern world. This situation is nothing new: In his essay, From Salvation to Self-Realization: Advertising and the Therapeutic Roots of the Consumer Culture, 1880-1930, T.J. Jackson Lears asserts “the first and simplest source of a sense of unreality was the urban-industrial transformation” (6) that drew workers from the traditional social moorings of agrarian communities to nineteenth century industrial centers. Rothman’s characterization of Las Vegas as a site for the consumption of experience is a contemporary incarnation of the “commodified titillation [of] cabarets and amusement parks” that modern-era workers sought as therapy for their feelings of alienation. It follows that in addition to exploring visual signs, as do Venturi et al, another element of a fruitful strategy for understanding Las Vegas would focus on the causes of feelings of displacement, both in Las Vegas itself and in other locales that are points of departure for the desert oasis.

One starting point would be addressing the rapid development of Las Vegas itself, as Rothman does, and examining how it relates to the implacement – to borrow a concept from Edward S. Casey – of the individual. As the photos that accompany Venturi et al’s study demonstrate, one hundred years ago the city was hardly more than a railroad depot and a few haphazardly constructed houses and buildings around what is now downtown Fremont Street. Rothman notes that the history of (the citizens of) Las Vegas is elsewhere, in the coastal cities that became too expensive, or the Rust Belt cities that ceded their industrial activity to developing nations. He continues to illustrate the suburbanization of the area and the ensuing atomization of society that is manifested in gated communities, status-seeking through material acquisition, and notably, in the “space for crowds of anonymous individuals without explicit connection with each other” (50) that Venturi et al describe. In such an environment, a human connection with the “place” would be very difficult to foster and therefore feelings of alienation would likely abound. Of course, most cities have not and never will expand at the same rate as Las Vegas, but with similar development patterns being the norm, it is helpful to consider Las Vegas as model of what could potentially happen if unchecked suburbanization is permitted.

Lears remarks that in the late nineteenth century, the burgeoning urban leisure industry served “the anxious businessman as well as the bored shop girl.” Similarly, the Las Vegas of today, as a hermetic place in the desert, designed around rapid movement via automobile and itinerant visitors arriving and departing by plane, that presents itself as an alternate reality – “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” according to a recent advertising campaign – is a favorite destination for professional conventions and personal vacations. These forms of tourism are the backbone of Las Vegas’s economy and are increasingly important ingredient of local economies around the country. One needs to look no further than the recent and planned expansions of the Washington State Trade and Convention Center, the “starchitect”-designed Seattle Public Library and Experience Music Project, or the perpetuation of luxury hotels (The W Seattle, Four Seasons) and fine arts venues (Seattle Art Museum expansion, Olympic Sculpture Park, Benaroya Hall) to see how important impressing well-heeled and classy visitors to Seattle has become. Moreover, faced with a rapidly declining population and increase in crime, Detroit recently chose to emulate Las Vegas’s success by legalizing gambling and encouraging resort construction to attract the convention crowds. As these cities become tourist destinations and development that caters to outside money trumps the needs and desires of residents, it is likely that feelings of displacement will increase, thus exacerbating the need for new forms of leisure and escape.

A third lesson to learn from Las Vegas could revolve around uniqueness. While Madison Avenue advertisers encourage each and every one of us to express our individuality – a concept that, as Rothman explains, many visitors to and residents of Las Vegas have taken to heart – the fact remains that Las Vegas actually is a unique city, like Seattle, New York or Chicago. The real danger facing Las Vegas and other cities – both developing and established – seems to be the importing and exporting of successful forms and economic models, rather than expressing local nature and culture (the indoor ski slope in Dubai comes to mind). Though some may not approve of its identity as an ever-changing place where hedonism is encouraged, that is what Las Vegas is, and it should express – not necessarily export – this and any other unique characteristics. For example, it could be said that the temporary nature of a visit to an impermanent, always-changing place like Las Vegas reflects the ephemeral nature of life itself. This very aspect of its identity stands in stark contrast to the more established cities of Europe and the East Coast, and should be celebrated.

It is in regard to the concept of uniqueness that Venturi et al’s work shines. Where some would argue for more trees and grass in the medians along a major thoroughfare, the authors conclude that making these changes would be detrimental to the city. They consider the signs one of the best (read: most unique) parts of the city and do not want to block them with foliage; they note that grass in the medians would be difficult to maintain and suggest that they be paved in gold, in homage to the identity of the place. Combining such an examination of the visual aspects of Las Vegas with other social, economic and political studies reinforces the need for interdisciplinary education and could lead to an intellectual organization robust enough to understand Las Vegas and other developing cities.

Autocentric

2009-02-13T23:55:00.000-08:00

Here is a nice little park near the UW campus. In the background you can see the Henry Art Gallery and Suzzallo Library; Gould Hall, home to the newly renamed College of Built Environments is a block away to the right.

Problem is, the park is in a median, with two lanes of traffic on each side running the length of the park, two on the near end, and four on the far end. Note the meandering path down the center of the median that is ostensibly a place for contemplation.

I've heard the park referred to as "a waste" and "hated." At the time, I thought these words rather harsh, but I've grown to feel the same. It goes without saying that a place for contemplation and respite looks much more like this (Kyoto, Japan):

In the same vein, and near Seattle Pacific University, one can find this charming stretch of retail, restaurant and office real estate, adjacent to Nickerson Street. Again, good intentions fall victim to the surrounding street alignment. I, for one, don't care to walk to and from any retail, restaurant or office location that is five feet away from four lanes of barreling traffic, and I doubt many other people do.

I recently asked, as many do, for whom or what are we building our city. Both of these examples point to vehicular traffic as the primary recipient of all that hard work, while a little bit of humanity is wrangled into the leftover space. Not a new observation, I know, but a powerful one nonetheless.

Indigenous Modernities

2009-02-10T00:30:00.000-08:00

In a chapter entitled “Concerning Violence,” Frantz Fanon characterizes the successful decolonization process as changing the “whole social structure…from the bottom up” (The Wretched of the Earth, 35). While the only mention of violence in the Metcalf and Hosagrahar readings is the bomb tossed at Lord Hardinge by an Indian nationalist, as the Englishman entered the new capital, Hosagrahar’s concept of “indigenous modernities” could perhaps be seen as a peaceful – yet still rebellious – analogue of transforming the social structure. By undertaking their own program of modernization, which was more appropriate to their daily living situation and cultural values than the British version of “an idealized and universal modernity” (Hosagrahar, 221), the residents of Delhi adapted to the changing social situation while peacefully asserting their independence via the built environment.

The Delhi Improvement Trust (DIT) was formed in 1936 with the objective of “reforming and modernizing the city” by “relieving congestion, improving living conditions, and developing new areas as planned extensions to the city” (225). In short, the DIT had free reign to westernize the areas that the government considered slums, many of which had blossomed as “modern” industry grew and attracted more workers. Since these “slums” were without adequate water and sanitary sewer infrastructure, and had a population density that was 30 times greater than that of New Delhi, the colonial administration could attempt to “improve” them under the auspices of public health. However, as Hosagrahar asserts, the proposed layout of the DIT projects provided a much more open layout that would be easier to police for “deviant behavior and insurgency” (239). Similarly, by disrupting the existing communities and thinning out the crowds, it would likely be possible to prevent social organization that could lead to an upheaval of colonial rule.

Hosagrahar introduces the physical manifestations that represent the social divide between the government and the property owners by describing the savvy manner by which the latter set about building what would later be considered slums. Spurred by the modern economic policies that made land a commodity, property owners found ways around strict building regulations. They built irregular additions to their buildings and then used the court system and regulatory structures to make the illegal structures legal. For example, they continuously renewed permit applications, appealed to higher courts for decisions in their favor and banded together and asserted that controversial structures had always been there (224). Attempts to demolish existing structures were thwarted by inhabitants that obtained restraining orders and appeared in court (223). Moreover, many of the lower level inspectors were residents, extended family members or fellow churchgoers and therefore had loyalties to the neighborhoods as well as the government, and thus fueled the haphazard construction (224). In true modern fashion, monetary and political incentives from the new entrepreneurs convinced many inspectors and building officials to look the other way or approve construction plans (225). By utilizing such modern means and driven by modern capitalist intentions, the property owners and inhabitants of Delhi essentially defined Hosagrahar’s concept of “indigenous modernity” by propagating a style of housing that reflects the everyday situation of the citizens.

Increasing the divide between the government and the citizenry was the DIT’s effort to “unslum” the center of walled Delhi with a scientific approach of reducing complex “tight-knit families and cultural communities” (232) to population statistics that needed to be spread out. Though the residents frowned upon these development schemes, they were aware of the monetary returns that could be reaped by selling their property. Dissatisfied with offers for their land, they often banded together and made legal appeals, sometimes resulting in the property remaining theirs and unchanged. Hosagrahar asserts that the intention of the property owners was to maximize their personal gains but realized that selling their land for the offered price would destroy their community (235).

Of course, some DIT projects, which completely ignored traditional Indian living arrangements, such as the interior courtyard that provided an escape from the heat or layouts conducive to housing extended family members, were completed. But rather than decongesting the slum areas as planned, new immigrants from elsewhere moved in and often “indigenized” the buildings, which resulted in a reflection of the area’s cultural context rather than the intended European ideal of modernity. As a result, the high density and strong social ties within the communities remained in spite of the new construction.

Furthermore, the same capitalistic spirit that created much of the overcrowding remained and was likely exacerbated by the DIT’s development program. Property owners continued to expand their buildings into the public streets, thus resulting in the increasingly narrow avenues and hodgepodge architecture that defines Delhi. In doing so they preserved their cultural values privately but, as in most entrepreneurial endeavors, “sometimes sacrificed public good” (238). Hosagrahar notes that these “petty entrepreneurs” both followed and manipulated the law by “appropriating space by stealth, negotiating compensations, pressurizing (sic) inspectors, screaming injustice and seeking the protection of law” (239) and even though the outcomes were not what the citizens wanted, the new buildings grew to resemble the existing cityscape.

In the end, the complex diversity of the Indian culture and the willingness to adapt to the new economic and political environment proved too resilient for rational European modernism to overcome. The original landscape created in response to the industrialization of Delhi seems to remain largely intact while the completed DIT projects have taken on a form similar to that of the consciously hybridized buildings of New Delhi: they are essentially a western architecture that has elements of Indian culture added to better fit within the surrounding context. However, the buildings that rose out of the walled central city represent an entirely different degree of social participation and should therefore be considered the true expression of the adaptable culture of Delhi.

Streets For People

2009-02-04T23:32:00.000-08:00

Coming up next Thursday at the Armory at South Lake Union Park is the Streets for People Kickoff Forum. Hope to see you there.

2009 vs. 1942

2009-02-04T23:06:00.000-08:00

For whom/what do we build our cities?

At my other site, I've been taking and posting a daily photo. I thought this one was applicable for this site as well, so I've posted it for your viewing pleasure.

Abstract Lego City

2009-02-03T10:56:00.000-08:00

Click Here

Mass-produced Housing

2009-02-03T08:32:00.000-08:00

Below is another reading response for my class. There are three class readings cited:
Fuller ("Designing a New Industry")
Jacobs (The Death and Life of Great American Cities)
Duany et al (Suburban Nation: The Rise of Sprawl and the Decline of the American Dream) -- we only read about twenty pages but this seems to be a great book, in the same vein as Jacobs.

In writing this I realized, perhaps for the first time, that mass-produced housing does not explicitly lead to insular suburbs. I think it is the way mass-produced housing is used that produces the suburbs we tend to scorn. For example, if someone were to streamline the construction of high-quality, green and affordable multifamily buildings that could be adapted to fit neighborhood context, I think they would be reaching the goal that I had in starting this blog.

Mass-produced Housing

Though Buckminster Fuller’s idea of retooling airplane-building operations to mass produce light, metal-framed houses never came to be, he correctly identified a nascent peace-time economy that would grow out of the war machine. The postwar housing boom – fueled by increased consumer spending and New Deal legislation designed to promote home ownership – provided many Americans with the suburban accommodations that Ebenezer Howard considered an escape from the terribly unnatural city. However, the effects of suburban lifestyles on both the environment and social relations are largely detrimental. And though the environmental assaults are myriad – highways clogged with commuter traffic, clear-cut swaths through forests for future construction, erosion along streams from increased impermeable paving – they at least tend to be visible, while declining social relations remain somewhat more veiled.

In asserting that “Americans may have the finest private realm in the developed world, but our public realm is brutal,” Duany, Plater-Zyberk and Speck (41) address a physical representation of the social relations that are either created or reflected by mass-produced suburban housing. For example, upon leaving the house, the suburban dweller is typically relegated to travel by automobile – which is, in itself, isolating – and must jockey for position with other drivers for a simple trip to the supermarket. Compared to Jane Jacobs’ description of Boston’s North End, where “working places and commerce [mingle] in the greatest complexity with its residences,” (8) the suburban layout offers far fewer chances for regular interaction with neighbors running errands or going to work. The importance of diverse of land use is a continuous theme of her book and doubles as a call for diverse built environments that promote cross-use and human interaction.

Duany et al continue to describe suburban developments in which housing clusters are built according to selling price. This, the authors stress, is a contemporary example of segregation that follows in the vein of racism, classism and scorn for immigrants – “[The North End is] still getting immigrants!” says a Boston banker to Jacobs (11), citing this as reason to consider the area a slum – and has plagued American cities over time. The authors also assert that clusters are a way to sell “the concept of exclusivity,” since many mass-produced homes are indistinguishable by any other metric. The apotheosis of this segregation is the gated community, where a physical boundary is constructed to separate the wealthy from the not-so-wealthy.

Segregation is becoming increasingly widespread as former suburban residents are relocating to urban cores, where luxury high-rise condominium developments – the urbanized gated community or “islands within the city,” as Jacobs calls them – are sprouting. With block-long podiums housing private amenities and garages in which residents park their cars, these new urban denizens need not interact with other city-dwellers much more than when they were suburbanites. In their article Soft Urbanism: Safeguarding the Private City, Füller and Marquardt posit that private security forces, such as the Metropolitan Improvement District (MID) in Seattle, are necessary because “the production of safe and clean, exciting and lively, convenient and healthy spaces for the former suburbanites does not always get along easily with the so called ‘edgy urban experience’” (7). These modifications to the city are examples of social values from the arena of mass-produced houses colonizing the place where the informal “ballet of the good city sidewalk” (Jacobs, 50) reflects healthy social interaction.

As Duany et al profess, “the segregationist pattern is self-perpetuating” (45). They note that those raised in homogenous enclaves are less likely to be empathetic to people of differing socio-economic status. Rather than having daily interaction with diverse society, these children are socialized “through the sensationalizing eye” (46) of the media. In such an arrangement, the cohesiveness of a diverse society of the future is threatened, even as this has been a goal for which many generations of minorities and activists have striven. Moreover, the authors suggest that segregation is also inconvenient: In a diverse neighborhood, teachers, shopkeepers, businesspeople, and doctors can interact daily, thus helping to establish the elusive “community” that fosters social interaction.

Offering diverse housing options also increases the resilience of a community since “people buy the community first and the house second” (Duany et al, 48). In suburban developments, if one wants to upgrade or downsize, depending on their station in life, it is likely that the only option will be to relocate to another neighborhood. Conversely, in a neighborhood like Georgetown, where housing options range from apartments to townhouses to mansions, it is possible for an individual or family to change homes while remaining in the same community. Similarly, Jane Jacobs considers having “many individuals who stay put” (139) to be an attribute of stable neighborhoods; this assertion is reinforced by her example of Joe Cornacchia, the owner of a neighborhood deli with whom many residents leave their keys when expecting visitors at odd times. Joe gets this role in part because he has established himself in the neighborhood as a trusted individual.

The very possibility of this sort of interaction between neighborhood residents and local businesses can only exist in places where mixed-use development is legal. Duany et al note that the classic arrangements of apartments above retail, which provide customers and “eyes on the street,” and the store-below-the-house are largely illegal in suburban areas, due to “the lingering memory of industrial pollution blighting residential areas” (50). This arrangement stands in direct opposition to Jacobs’ call for the need of primary mixed uses that share the same streets and promote cross-use throughout the day.

While it is evident that many of the tears in the social fabric can be attributed to the rise of homogenous, mass-produced housing, it is important to remember that the mass production process cannot be explicitly blamed for the outcome. On the contrary, it seems as if the social situation that promoted insular suburban housing has been exacerbated by its perpetuation. Rather than merely critiquing the process of mass production, it may be more fruitful to address suburbanization from a sociological perspective, as Jacobs does.

Nonlinear Nature

2009-01-27T20:19:00.000-08:00

In the introduction to A Thousand Years of Nonlinear History, Manuel De Landa writes, “human history did not follow a straight line, as if everything pointed toward civilized societies as humanity’s ultimate goal” (16). This statement, which is followed by myriad examples of nonlinear phenomena ranging from the evolution of language to economics to urbanization, stands in stark contrast to Le Corbusier’s assertion that “man, by reason of his very nature, practices order; his actions and his thoughts are dictated by the straight line and the right angle” (23). Though one of his cities was never constructed explicitly, Le Corbusier’s ideas influenced much of contemporary design; his tendency to pit humankind against nature also remains and is a problem with which civilization is still contending.

It should be noted that Le Corbusier is following in the Judeo-Christian tradition: “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it,” God said to Adam and Eve (Genesis 1: 28). By the time Le Corbusier wrote his words in 1925, agriculture and industry had further separated man from nature; Marx had extended the concept of the domination of nature to production sixty years prior in Das Kapital. In this vein, Le Corbusier asserts that man has taken to interpreting the laws of the universe and has “made of them a coherent scheme, a rational body of knowledge on which he can act, adapt and produce” (23). This, he says, is human nature and therefore humans are right to seek order in what they create.

Le Corbusier follows this argument by noting that humans surround themselves with a “zone of protection” consisting of objects they have created. Then, in a maneuver that seems to counter his own argument, he writes that the objects that come in close contact with the body are the least ordered, while those at a greater distance are more geometrical. In a geographical sense, this could be read as saying that the objects with which we have the greatest connection are those of a more organic shape, and that we tend to keep them closer. Unsurprisingly, the entire field of ergonomic design springs from this relationship and is cited by designers like Victor Papanek as a step toward imbuing products with the spiritual. It follows that the rigid geometry of more distant constructions is likely rooted in a specific culture rather than universally present in human nature. The discipline inherent in geometrical forms coupled with the desire to dominate a chaotic nature points to what Baudrillard calls “the most anthropocentric religion the world has ever known”: Christianity.

However, Le Corbusier does consider parts of nature valuable additions to his city, notably open green space and trees. He sees open space as having a salutary effect on the citizenry by serving as a setting for sports and games; trees are to be included in the setback areas of the residential buildings because they are aesthetically pleasing when viewed in conjunction with the concrete buildings. While some may consider nature to have an inherent value, Le Corbusier sees its utility.

The Situationists, on the other hand, envision a city that is less rationalized, though machines will free the citizens of work. They argue for a “city constituted of grand situations, between which the inhabitants would drift, endlessly” (117). The very selection of the word “drift” opposes the calls for speed and efficiency that Le Corbusier unapologetically repeats for three hundred pages, and hints at a more organic and natural experience. However, the very structure of the Situationist city is itself still separate from nature. The only mention of nature in the reading is when the new city is described as occupying the space above nature and agriculture (the control of nature). Constant’s New Babylon is envisioned not as space within the natural environment, but rather as a “creative game with an imaginary environment” (123). Sadler further distances New Babylon from nature when he writes that it “would be an exquisitely fabricated environment where everything would truly sing of humanity” (132), as well as when he compares the city to a windowless casino, in which the passing of days and seasons can go unnoticed, unless they are artificially reproduced to entertain occupants.

It is in Tony Garnier’s conception of the Cite Industrielle where nature is addressed more completely. Garnier sets two rules for his residential buildings link them to the natural environment and evoke contemporary ecological design. The first states that all bedrooms are required to have at least one south-facing window and the building must provide maximum sunlight throughout the structure. The second rule requires that all spaces are illuminated and ventilated from the outside. His sketches also show expansive green spaces and vegetation that appears to be manicured, thus continuing the domination of nature theme that connects the three readings. Furthermore, the factory that serves as the heart of the city is inherently devoted to transforming nature into material goods, and the schools concentrate on subjects such as metallurgy, which will lead to improved production. It is noted in Mariani’s introduction that Garnier does not include churches but it is clear that the religious legacy of controlling the nonhuman world remains.

Garnier manages to further connect his city to nature through the inclusion of the slaughterhouse and the hospital complex. The former embodies a connection to nature that sets Garnier apart from Le Corbusier and the Situationists, in that it explicitly addresses the role of nonhuman animals in the city. Similarly, the attention paid to hospitals and health in general serves as a reminder that the occupants of the Cite Industrielle are indeed mortal, which is a characteristic that might be lost while examining Le Corbusier’s and the Situationist’s work. Moreover, Garnier’s city is at the human scale, which seems to tilt the design back toward the natural. While none of these cities were ever built, and they each dominate nature, it is clear that Garnier’s conception pays it the most respect.

Obama and Emissions

2009-01-26T02:24:00.001-08:00

In Texas, we call this approach that Obama is taking "kicking ass and taking names."

It appears that Monday he will order the EPA to reconsider state's rights to set fuel efficiency and emissions standards on automobiles.

Read the story here.

Obama and Nutrition

2009-01-24T10:58:00.000-08:00

Perhaps some changes to our industrial food system will be coming in the coming months?

Link here.

Not Just Art

2009-01-19T18:31:00.002-08:00

Another reading response for the class I'm taking. This one concerns a statement by Herman Muthesius in which he suggests that painters, or other practitioners of fine arts, are the driving force behind architectural innovation.

Not just Art

While it is likely true that Peter Behrens’ training as a painter enabled him to envision an innovative architecture for AEG, and that IBM’s Rochester, Minnesota plant by Eero Saarinen had a new, lightweight presence manifested in its thin aluminum and glass walls, Muthesius should take care not to reduce the new aesthetics of these buildings to mere artistic expression. Each of these companies was a leader in the high technology of the day, and wished to convey that image in the everyday use of their products and workplaces. Moreover, technical expertise and understanding of construction processes made the realization of these buildings possible. Taking these three dimensions into consideration leads to a more well-rounded analytical framework with which to examine these historic examples, contemporary architecture and, by extension, urban planning, urban design and landscape architecture.

In the case of the AEG turbine hall, Behrens was seeking to “translate the complexity of…[the] building into an aesthetic analogy” (Buddensieg, 63). The ability to successfully complete this task seems to be as rooted in Behrens’ personality (a social consideration) as in his past in the fine arts: his willingness to utilize his artistic training for commercial ends and to collaborate with the civil engineer Karl Bernhard ultimately led to a building that was both functional and expressive. Buddensieg concludes that Behrens thus demonstrated the artistic virtues of the industrial materials that formed the building, but stops short of connecting this success to his past in the fine arts. In fact, Buddensieg goes as far as to cite technical developments as the seed of Behrens’ “inclination toward special clarity in the interior and simplicity on the exterior” (66) of his buildings. While it is plausible that a painter’s eye for detail led to Behrens’ success in transforming architecture, Muthesius seems to overemphasize the contribution of a background in arts and crafts, and discount the role of social relations, business concerns, and technology.

Fast forward to the present and turn to the relatively new WAMU Center in downtown Seattle. The concept for the almost entirely glass façade can be attributed to the architects but the realization is largely due to technical innovation. By utilizing performance-based design – that is, designing the building to meet performance objectives in a seismic event rather than designing for stresses limited by building codes – the structural designers laid out a bracing scheme that eliminated the need for a perimeter moment frame, which is typically required in steel construction in high seismic zones. The bands of opaque cladding that are seen on many Seattle skyscrapers are thus absent, creating a “lightness” owed to both the architects and engineers. Furthermore, there was an innovative financial interplay between the bank and the Seattle Art Museum – which inhabits the lower portion of the building – that made the entire project possible. In this example, the interplay of architects, engineers and focused business concerns again unites art and commerce via a progressive social relationship.

It naturally follows that ponderous architecture can lead to clumsily designed cities, but I find it hard to look solely to artists for salvation; considering the fields of urban planning and design, a quote from Jane Jacobs comes to mind: “A city cannot be a work of art” (The Death and Life of Great American Cities, 372). This assertion suggests that while nimble artistic disciplines such as painting may inform contemporary city design, proponents are ill-equipped to consider the diverse elements that constitute the real life functioning of the city. It follows that seeking to create an aesthetic analogy for a complex process, as Behrens does with the AEG turbine hall, is not a sufficient approach to solving problems at a scale much beyond that of the individual building. Jacobs continues to say that such an attempt leads to a place between life and art – taxidermy – and suggests that the real role of urban design is “helping to illuminate, clarify and explain the order of cities” (375). Artists, such as painters, photographers, filmmakers and writers are better equipped to play this role than to arrive at innovative solutions that are as based in technical and social sciences as they are in art.

Another important element of urban planning and design that defines cities is infrastructure. Classically understood as the water and sewage systems, electrical grid and network of roads and bridges, these systems are inherently ponderous, given their utilitarian function and physicality. However, future infrastructure (read: communication and mass transit networks), which largely consists of wireless connections and light rail – the latter of which is even semantically distinguished from its heavier industrial predecessor – is much more graceful and functional. These developments seem to be spurred by technical and business innovation, not to mention social pressures, rather than by fine arts. Completing the loop, Kieran and Timberlake see this shift to technology as the next innovation in architecture and even cite the computer company Dell’s business plan as a model to be followed.

Landscape architecture finds itself in a similar position, straddling the line between an artistic and a scientific discipline, and seeking to integrate both human and nonhuman life. Business concerns are involved to the point that they often employ landscape architects to create an environment that will lead to greater productivity or circulation, ultimately bringing increased profits. In this field, the aesthetic sensibility of a painter would once again be a desirable attribute of the designer, but it is still only one piece of the whole.

In the end, contemporary designers would likely be best served by recognizing the interdependence of disciplines beyond their own specialty. While one’s concentration may be in the aesthetic, technical, or social realm, an educated awareness of the validity of the other disciplines seems essential to further innovation. Gropius’s call for the architect as facilitator of various aspects of design applies here and can be seen as a basis for interdisciplinary studies.

Standardization

2009-01-13T09:59:00.001-08:00

So, this post isn't about green building, but Modernism. I wrote this in response to Walter Gropius' The New Architecture and the Bauhaus and the La Sarraz Declaration.

Standardization

Under the heading Standardization, and in the same vein as Rousseau’s Social Contract, where the political theorist suggests that society is formed on the idea that self-preservation comes easier when people cooperate, Walter Gropius asserts, “the elementary impulse of all national economy proceeds from the desire to meet the needs of the community at less cost and effort by the improvement of its productive organization” (30). Citing this as the basis for the rise of mechanization and industrialization, he continues to suggest that these new technologies can free the individual from physical toil and allow one to pursue higher order activities. Using reproducible standards is a method by which to increase manufacturing efficiency and, correspondingly, the amount of time for citizens to pursue higher order activities. Gropius thus sees it as a prerequisite for the development of civilization, rather than an impediment.

In the idealistic context in which he writes, this assertion is fairly easy to digest. Starting with his opinion that homogeneous town character is “the distinguishing mark of a superior urban culture” (38), one will likely accept that a built environment (read: buildings and cities) created from a catalog of high quality, low cost, mass-produced pieces, would lead to less time spent fussing over which ones to use, and more time combining them in a way that is both aesthetically pleasing and functional. From this point of view, by utilizing industrial technology to provide the basic building blocks, designers would be free to focus on the act of expression, which is akin to arranging musical notes into a symphony. It is this step of concentrating on the design, the assemblage, the expression, that Gropius sees as a higher order activity that is part of an evolving society.

With buildings and cities covered, one might be left wondering where is the creative process that goes into products themselves. Gropius would likely respond by saying that the higher order creative activity comes before mass production, in the design of the product prototypes. This reversal of the process for constructing buildings and cities from standard elements remains true to his position that standardization reduces the amount of time that a designer must toil away with material production. However, several pressing issues remain: What is a designer to do after all products have been standardized? Are standards updated regularly and, if so, were they ever really standards? By insisting that a designer removes himself from the product, as Gropius does, the ritual of creation that Walter Benjamin defines as making works of art disintegrates, and what is left is merely a simulacrum of the prototype. I am left wondering if this is what designers intend to create.

Unfortunately, it seems like part of this utopia of standardization has come true while the other has followed a different trajectory. Rather than creating a splendid assembly of expressive houses, built from high quality, mass-produced elements, we have managed to distort this dream and have covered much of our former farmland with homes based on standardized plans and built from, and later filled with, artless mass-produced material. And while the efficiency of mechanized production has increased the amount of time that can be devoted to higher order activities, we, as Americans, have not exactly chosen to do so. I mention this not to disparage the concept of standardization but to point out that – as Gropius later mentions in his discussion of the Bauhaus – a change in the material production system does not necessarily lead to the desired social outcome.

However, on the social front, Gropius makes a strong argument for the power of standardization with regard to standards of living. He sees the standardization of buildings as a way to increase quality at a lower cost, thereby raising living standards for people in lower socioeconomic categories. This idea can be extended both to products (in the sense that anything consumed or used is a product, whether natural or man-made) such as access to clean drinking water or the increasing reliance on personal automobiles, and to cities, where a standard of safety and cleanliness should be extended to all citizens. In these examples, it is abundantly clear that standardization is a prerequisite to the development and progress of civilization.

The fact that Gropius acknowledges that some may see standardization as an impediment reveals that not everyone agrees with his point of view. His dismissal of the position that standardization may crush individuality as a myth is troubling. It seems evident that the current state of suburban housing, in which many standards have been reduced to their price, has suffered immensely from standardization run amok. It follows that a major flaw with his position is that he neglects the fact that the designer is not the ultimate authority when it comes to decisions about products, buildings or the future layout of cities. His salvation comes in the form of the Bauhaus, where design education leads to a standard language that can inform the enlightened masses of the potential outcomes of good design.

The signatories of the La Sarraz Declaration would have likely been very strong supporters of Gropius’s position, as clearly evidenced by their statement that “architecture can spring only from the present time” (109). Given that their document was signed at a time defined by mass production, and that standardization is supported by mechanical production, the link between the signatories and Gropius is inescapable. Furthermore, the La Sarraz document defines economic efficiency as requiring minimal working effort and explicitly states that standardization and rationalization are the most efficient methods of production. In their section on Town Planning, the signatories call for “a collective and methodical land policy” (111) which could also be described as a policy based on agreed upon standards of use. Finally, the documents are linked in promotion of standardization through the goal of education: The La Sarraz Declaration calls for a domestic science that essentially standardizes everything from sunlight to hygiene to household economics, in a true rationalization of everyday life.

Economic Downturn

2009-01-09T13:07:00.000-08:00

Well, the economic downturn has finally become a reality to me. I had been working as a structural engineer for the last five and a half years and was laid off yesterday.

Read about the experience here.

But, as a friend over a Pb Elemental said, now is a good time to devote more time to this blogging/organizing to build a co-op endeavor. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe everyone's favorite Modernist, Le Corbusier, did a lot of his theorizing while out of work. Not that I can be compared to him for many reasons, but you get the idea.

I am taking another course at UW this quarter, entitled The Contemporary Built Environment. It requires quite a bit of reading and written response to each assignment so expect some posts on that. We also have to give two presentations relating to the reading material. I have been blessed with giving presentations on Products, Buildings and the Global Economy and Built Environment and Place, both of which relate nicely to my interests in consumerism and development.

Stream

2008-12-23T18:15:00.000-08:00

Walking down Capitol Hill in the snow. The traffic is backed up for blocks and some people are walking in the streets. I've been watching this for days but have yet to write anything (though others have made excellent observations).

My mind starts wandering...maybe we need a critical mass for pedestrians. Or wouldn't it be great if a group went out one day with air horns and honk back at the cars -- dirty looks don't exactly work.

As I approach downtown, I see the throngs of Christmas shoppers flooding the sidewalks. The police are holding back the cars and letting pedestrians cross in every direction. Some jackass in an SUV is blocking the crosswalk and I "accidentally" slam my arm into the little plastic bug guard on his hood then give him a dirty look. A low point for me, I admit.

If only all these people lived in the city instead of coming and going all the time.

I see a proposed land use sign across from the Paramount Theater: 40 story building with above grade parking. Parking? Blah, but above grade is the worst because it creates a wall. Take a look at the Cosmopolitan and tell me it has a positive interaction with the street. Where are the "eyes on the street" that Jane Jacobs tells us makes a neighborhood safe? Why do we need so many parking stalls downtown?

And not to be a sourpuss, but what's up with the fins on Olive 8? I feel like the architects realized this huge smooth glass box was impinging on the street and decided it needed a little texture. Looks cheap, I'd say.

As I'm walking back across I-5 on Pine, the sidewalk is packed. I look over the railing at the gaping hole that is I-5: it is nearly empty and the snow has all but disappeared from this moat that bisects our city. I want to stand on the bridge and yell to every passing car that the action is here, in Seattle, that they should park that car and stick around for a bit.

Participation vs. Consumption: The Search for a Contemporary Vernacular

2008-12-07T21:33:00.000-08:00

In a chapter titled “The Lessons of Vernacular Architecture,” Victor Papanek writes, “it may be helpful to start from a process-oriented rather than a product-based viewpoint” when seeking to understand vernacular architecture (The Green Imperative, 118). Though this paper is not a study of the vernacular, the idea that architecture can be understood as part of dynamic processes rather than a purely material form is incredibly powerful, and can be used to envision an evolution in city-building that I will call a contemporary vernacular.

Consider the current development process in which buildings are produced (conceived, designed, and constructed) by professionals to be consumed (purchased or leased) by anonymous end-users: This system more closely resembles Henry Ford’s assembly line than it does a traditional community building process such as, say, an Amish barn raising. Therefore, if one is interested in designing built environments that contribute to the well-being of the natural world (including humans), rather than perpetuating mass-produced simulacra, it is a worthwhile endeavor to explore the processes that separate the former from the latter.

One such process is the participation by the end-users and community that is central to the barn raising and absent from typical construction projects. This participation in the social realm is rare in contemporary city-building and can be related to ubiquitous patterns of mass consumption where “the fixation on (obtaining) personal goods has denied the necessity of sacrifice beyond the family” and “has allowed little space for social conscience and confined aspiration to the personal realm” (An All-Consuming Century, 3). The idea of trading collective power for personal spending power is expressed neatly in Henry Ford’s five-dollar/eight-hour day, where production workers agreed to submit to extensive managerial control in exchange for a generous salary. By abandoning their right to organize and, instead, focusing on personal material gain, the workers set the stage for the atomized social structure famously described by William Whyte in The Organization Man, where social bonds are formed over common individual struggles rather than coalesced into a collective movement.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, one can turn to the ideas and accomplishments of the great community organizer Saul Alinsky, who asserts that “the complete man is one who is making a definite contribution to the general social welfare and who is a vital part of the community of interests, values, and purposes that makes life worth living” (Reveille For Radicals, 17). His conception of democracy is founded in the masses – which he considers the substance of society – and is defined as working from the bottom up.

The question then becomes how to elicit participation in a society that is increasingly insular and has moved from the social halls of yesteryear to the shopping malls and suburban homes of today. One answer can be traced back to Marx’s Grundrisse, where he notes that technology is a force that can overcome what seems to be an impassable limit and therefore exposes it as traversable barrier (Interview the David Harvey, n+1, issue eight, 45). With the widespread use of technology within the design and construction industry – Building Information Models (BIM), Geographic Information Systems (GIS), and online collaborative environments used for construction administration and project management – and the general computer fluency among the masses – manifested in what has been termed Web 2.0 and includes blogs and social networking sites – it seems that cyberspace would be an ideal venue for participation between end-users and professionals. The goal of this paper, then, is to explore the available technology in use today in both the professional and the public realms, examine any overlaps that may already be occurring between the two – paying special attention to research into increasing participation via technology – and, finally, building a scenario where end-users are an essential part of the development process, therefore tilting the process of development toward a new contemporary vernacular.

Professional Technology

One of the most exciting emergent technologies in the architectural and engineering world is Building Information Modeling, or BIM. A BIM model is a three-dimensional computer model that organizes information from all the major design disciplines involved in the construction of a building. Each team member can upload and download information pertaining to their portion of the design, generate construction drawings, and check for conflicts between the building systems. BIM can also generate images that show the interactions of various systems, which can be very useful for designers trying to visualize complex relationships.

According to feature articles and advertisements in architecture and structural engineering magazines, BIM is the tool that is changing the industry. “BIM has great potential for helping produce better architecture, faster and for less cost” (Building Team Views Technological Tools as Best Chance For Change, http://www.enr.com); an ad for Bentley’s BIM system informs the reader that Change Is Good and urges the potential customer to make change good for themselves by using Bentley; Walter P. Moore, an elite structural engineering firm, uses BIM as an advertising and recruiting tool – BIM. It’s not about Buildings. It’s about people – and prizes itself as a leader in the revolution.

The cover of the November 2008 issue of Modern Steel Construction reads, “A Healthy Dose of BIM” and features several articles about the use of BIM for healthcare projects. This is fitting because design teams working in the healthcare sector stand to benefit from the collaborative nature of BIM, due to the complexity of mechanical, electrical, and plumbing (MEP) systems that are the infrastructure of a modern hospital and must fit within the space allocated by the architecture and structure. For this reason, Magnusson Klemencic Associates, another industry-leading structural engineering firm, has adopted BIM for all healthcare projects.

Another technology that promotes collaboration between the design team and the contractors is the online project management environment. It comes as no surprise that Autodesk, the company behind the ubiquitous drafting program AutoCad, and the most popular BIM system, Revit (Top Criteria for BIM Solutions, AECbytes, 3), has also created Constructware. This software is a web-based environment where members from each discipline can upload and download drawings, sketches, photographs, meeting minutes, etc. A basic use of Constructware that increases efficiency from the structural engineer’s perspective is answering requests for information (RFIs) from the contractor. Whereas this process has been conducted chronologically through mail, fax machine, and most recently email, with the architect serving as intermediary between the contractor and engineer, Constructware now serves as a virtual meeting place where the questions can be asked and answered by the appropriate parties.

Moving beyond individual buildings and into broader realms such as planning, infrastructure management, and ecology, one will find that a dominant technology is the Geographic Information System (GIS.) The real power of GIS lies in its ability to link maps – geographic data – with data sets such as land use, infrastructure services, or pollution levels, and thus creating a simulation of past, present, or potential future landscapes. GIS also has the capability to produce images such as specialized maps, three-dimensional renderings, and animations, all of which make scientific data more accessible to a nonscientific community. Apropos to the subject at hand, spatial data from a GIS can also be shared over the Internet, making it available to users in different locations (USGS GIS Poster, http://egsc.usgs.org).

While both BIM and GIS are powerful tools that could be used to include the public in the design process, they are, unsurprisingly, very expensive. Moreover, special training is required to implement, operate, and understand the both the structure of the systems, as well as the content that is input and produced. One technical solution to both of these problems would be the creation of an accessible interface that could utilize the power of these systems without requiring the purchase of the entire software suite or specialized training. The Internet is a likely avenue by which this sort of distribution could occur.

Public Technology

With the rise of Web 2.0 – that is, the Internet as a platform for expression and participation – millions of people have found new ways to spend their leisure time. For example, Wikipedia, the open source free encyclopedia has more 684 million visitors annually and at least 75,000 active contributors; Facebook, a social networking site, is the fourth most heavily trafficked website in the world and has over 120 million active users. Popular musical artists such as Radiohead, Nine Inch Nails, and Beck, have all held remix contests where different portions of their songs are released online for hobbyists to assemble in new ways and upload to the artists’ websites, where the public can listen to them and vote on their favorites.

Jeff Howe christened this process of tapping into the abilities of the masses crowdsourcing in an article for Wired (The Rise of Crowdsourcing, June 2006). Much of his article focuses on the economic aspects of using nonprofessionals for stock photography and research and development, namely the cost savings of using output from people who are producing out of sheer enjoyment. As a warning to any organization eager to implement crowdsourcing, he offers a list of common attributes of the participants, of which the most applicable to this study are the dispersion of the crowd, the fact that the crowd has a short attention span, and the tendency of the crowd to self-regulate so that the best “products” are acknowledged. These criteria should be kept in mind when constructing a framework for online participatory urban design.

Of course, there are pronounced differences between spending time online for entertainment, for work, or for more serious social activity that lies somewhere between these extremes. One example of a more politicized version of online activity is the authoring of weblogs, or blogs. For example, Huge Ass City (http://www.noisetank.com/hugeasscity) is a blog published by a Seattle urban planner that addresses issues such as transit, housing density, bicycle infrastructure, sustainable design, etc. In the last six months the site has had almost 42,000 unique site visits. While the site attracts many readers who are interested in these urban topics, and could very well influence their positions on these issues, it stops short of any Alinsky-esque organizational activity that could hope to influence policy. Blogs also serve as a one-to-many information distribution system, more like the radio, which Horkheimer and Adorno accuse of turning “all participants into listeners (consumers) and authoritatively subject(ing) them to broadcast programs which are all exactly the same” (The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception, 122), than a forum for discussion, or active participation, even though many have a feature where readers can comment on posts.

These examples reflect the power of the Internet to build communities. In their paper, Community-Driven Place Making, The Social Practice of Participatory Design in the Making of Union Point Park, Jeffrey Hou and Michael Rios focus on the community building process as an essential predecessor to “predominant participatory design approaches that focus narrowly on the binary interaction between designers and users” (Journal of Architectural Education, 2003). Their findings will be further explored in the discussion of real-life participation.

Public Participation via the Internet

Some technology-focused academics understandably see the Internet as an ideal platform for public participation. In his article Internet GIS for Public Participation, Zhong-Ren Peng discusses the need for public participation in environmental planning, the capabilities of a web-based GIS system, and proposes both a taxonomy and a system architecture that could implemented to involve users in the planning and decision making processes.

In his introduction, the traditional use of GIS as a presentation tool, rather than an interactive design tool, is discussed. This top-down method of participation, in which the public is only able to comment on what has been prepared by professionals, has been considered both elitist and antidemocratic, mainly due to the fact that the layperson has no exposure to GIS. An evolution in participatory capabilities, which has been termed Collaborative Spatial Decisionmaking (CSDM), accepts public input for the GIS model but encounters difficulty with equal access across socioeconomic groups and often requires a facilitator to operate the system efficiently. According to the author, the next evolution is the Internet GIS, which will be as powerful as the systems that professionals use but will include a user-friendly web-based interface that allows users to evaluate and comment on designs, select alternatives, and ultimately build their own alternative scenarios. He does not elaborate on how detailed the user input should be or how users will be educated to build practical scenarios but, assuming this could be done in a narrative format, it would be a democratic way to bring end-users into the design process.

The author argues that Internet GIS can overcome two obstacles that occur in traditional public forums: the vocal attendees that dominate the meetings and the inflexibility of meeting time (attributed to Kingston et al, Web-based public participation geographic information systems: an aid to local environmental decision making, 2000). Also promoted in this model of participation is the interactivity between users: the sharing of scenarios and analyses through chat rooms and discussion boards. The only downside mentioned is the ever-present problem of equal access to the Internet. While it is true that such a web-based system, accessible from the comfort of one’s own home, during one’s leisure time, is certainly convenient, this arrangement, paradoxically, seems to privatize public participation. Granted, such a system could be a valuable tool for generating interest or eliciting feedback during the conceptual stage or between benchmarks of the design process, but to suggest that ordinary citizens should virtually congregate in cyberspace to participate in city building seems to encourage further segregation of an already atomized society.

Peng’s proposed system evokes Baudrillard’s conception of the hyperreal – neither the real nor the unreal, but the continual simulation and electronic discussion of plans and scenarios that will likely never exist outside of the computer model, and which are not necessarily based on existing reality. However, a hybrid approach of web-based and real-life participation, such as CSDM – the previous evolution in GIS – more closely resembles a process that that is both human and social, and therefore part of a contemporary vernacular.

From Online to Reality

Though the Seattle Department of Planning and Development (DPD) does not keep statistics on the number of public comments it receives per project, it does publish this quantity in final land use decisions (personal correspondence with the DPD Public Resource Center), which are available online (http://web1.seattle.gov/dpd/luib/Default.aspx). While it is beyond the scope of this paper to sort and analyze the types of responses given for specific projects, it can be noted that larger projects – such as a new multistory mixed-use building in the Wallingford neighborhood (40 attendees at the public hearing), or a three-story office building in Queen Anne (24 written letters in the two week comment period) – tend to generate the most public concern, often regarding traffic congestion and loss of habitat. Projects that require the subdivision of lots for multifamily construction are popular but often only receive minimal comments, if any. Meanwhile, consider that the aforementioned blog Huge Ass City has averaged about 235 unique hits daily over the past six months. Though these numbers cannot be directly correlated, they do suggest that online interest in the developments around Seattle outnumbers actual social-political action that could actually influence what is (or isn’t) built. Therefore, a phenomenon worth exploring is the process of translating online interest to real-life action.

One example of a web-based group that spurs real-life activity is MoveOn.org (http://www.moveon.org). With over 3.2 million members nationwide, and funded solely by the donations of members, MoveOn endeavors to bring “real Americans back in to the political process” by circulating petitions, notifying members of upcoming ballot initiatives which could be influenced by constituents contacting their representatives, and organizing parties to watch films about current events. Another poignant example of the power of organization via the Internet that results in real-world consequences is the terrorist attacks of September 11th. According to an article in the Spring 2003 issue of Parameters, the US Army War College Quarterly, “evidence strongly suggests that terrorists used the Internet to plan their operations for 9/11” (Al-Qaeda and the Internet: The Danger of Cyberplanning). The article continues to illuminate other uses of the Internet for organizing terror attacks, gathering information about targets, recruiting, or using the web as a conduit for disrupting business or communications through hacking – all of which are mirror images of productive activities that could be undertaken by technology-based participatory design process: organizing real-life meetings, gathering information about the site of a proposed project, attracting new participants through social media, and using the web as a conduit for the exchange of design ideas.

It is these leaps from the virtual world to the real world where participation via technology begins to gain some momentum, where the hyperreal could be escaped and more process-oriented city-building practices could be developed. Peng’s proposed Internet GIS could be used in this context to “hook” potential participants via blogs, online versions of design magazines and newspapers, etc. Though I have not found any evidence of this transition in the context of urban planning, I have found two intriguing examples of integrating technology into the public forum.

In his article Public Participation: Technology and Democracy, Kheir Al-Kodmany, a researcher at the University of Illinois at Chicago, describes a method of using technology to increase public participation in the design process. Capitalizing on the power of the image as a way to understand the environment, the team used a GIS and an artist trained in depicting urban scenes, to facilitate discussions with citizens from the blighted Pilsen district of Chicago and explore revitalization goals, which included the development of a familiar incarnation of consumption: commercial tourism. Over four consecutive Saturdays, the group met in a church and, using GIS and digitized hand-sketched images projected on a screen, explored design options that help revitalize the neighborhood. The GIS proved to be a valuable resource because of its ability to display problem areas graphically, as well as data that reflected problems, such as the frequency of pedestrian and vehicle collisions in areas without sidewalks; besides sketching the new neighborhood that the citizens described, the artist, in one instance also helped extract local knowledge when she sketched some trees that residents knew could not be planted due to a shallow underground sewer system. Through this interactive mode of design, the team ended up with a plan that reflected the ideas of the professionals and the community, and could not have been generated by either group independently.

Of course this type of design process relies on many externalities, such as an interested and available group of citizens, a meeting location, the required equipment ranging from the GIS system to the projectors, and the expertise and availability of planners fluent in GIS. The author also notes other issues encountered such as the duration of the meetings, the transport of the equipment, the marginalization of communities without access to such technology, and the possible misuse of the technology to “blacklist” certain areas based on socioeconomic data. Regardless, the synthesis of the professional and local knowledge, coupled with the use of high technology and old-fashioned public participation, is a model that could form the backbone of a contemporary vernacular.

Another development in GIS that can be used to empower the public is the introduction of user-produced qualitative information into the system. Al-Kodmany mentions both narratives and oral histories as next generation data that “increases not only the richness and diversity of the information available, but also comes closer to the ways in which communities perceive their spaces.” In an article primarily authored by Steve Carter, titled Public Participation, GIS, and cyberdemocracy: evaluating on-line spatial decision support systems, the research team studies a Public Participation GIS (PPGIS) that was created for use over internet but was first tested a local fair, where the users could be observed. The GIS included a map of the English town of Slaithwaite and data fields that are activated as one clicks on features such as the river, buildings, or roads. After selecting a feature, the user can input unlimited text describing it, how they relate to it, or suggestions of how it may be improved.

These studies were successful because they connected the public to the design process using a language that transcends socioeconomic differences: the language of images and stories. Through this more level playing field, it seems likely that collective interests could materialize, as they did in the Pilsen study with regard to the need for sidewalks. The authors of the Union Point Park study refer to these “shared meanings and definitions that people bring to a situation or problem” as cultural framing, and note that social movement theory considers it one of three major factors behind social change, along with mobilization structure – “the formal and informal vehicles through which people mobilize and engage in collective actions” – and the more ephemeral political opportunity. Technology, as it has been described in this section, would thus be both a tool for mobilization and a method by which to discover shared interests.

What about BIM?

With the similarities between BIM and GIS, that is, the synthesis of graphic and descriptive data, it is feasible that BIM could also be used to include the public in the design process. One can envisage a scenario where a conceptual design of a public building, say, a library, is brought to the public in a fashion similar to the Pilsen neighborhood revitalization. The citizens could voice their concerns, a designer could digitally sketch out alternatives, and – borrowing the Slaithwaite example – comments could be archived in the system either at the meeting or afterward via the Internet. The advertised depth of BIM – the ability to coordinate the design disciplines – would not be utilized at this point, but a new dimension of user input, which could be encouraged by BIM’s power to generate images, could be incorporated. Virtual walkthroughs, “fit” of the new building into the neighborhood context, impacts on the view and more could be presented to the public, to help them understand the effects of design decisions. After all, as John Pastier, a former architecture critic at the Los Angeles Times says, it is the city – not an architect or the city elites – that produces great buildings. Unfortunately, I could find no examples or studies of BIM or similar technologies being used for participatory design of buildings.

One factor that could likely be an explanation for this lack of public participation could be the relative newness of BIM within the construction industry. Consequently most of the discourse in academia and professional publications concerns the barriers that must be crossed to use BIM to its full potential. In a paper authored by Carrie Dossick, the researcher concluded that the main barriers to widespread implementation are organizational, and revolve around “trust in leadership, information, technology, and skills of others” (Analyzing the Ramifications of Building Information Technologies for Collaboration in Architecture, Engineering, and Construction, 2008). It should be noted that part of her study is based on the observation of real-life meetings that incorporated a BIM model operated by one of the attendees, thus resembling the Pilsen revitalization meetings but with professionals instead of the community.

In the November 2008 issue of Modern Steel Construction, one of BIM-related editorials address this issue of trust as well as the financial investment required to purchase, train at least one office expert, and disseminate general working knowledge to employees (Technical Solutions are Just the Half of It). Another reason that is unrelated to BIM but pertains to participation in general could be that many buildings are developed by private companies, and thus are less likely than a public project, such as a park, to involve the public. However, despite these factors, the field of facilities management provides a great opportunity to incorporate end-user data into buildings that have been designed and built with BIM.

In a study of the renovation of the Pentagon, researchers from Pennsylvania State University note that the BIM model records performance data of all the mechanical and electrical systems but does not solicit feedback from the occupants (Pulling User Feedback into Renovation Design at the Pentagon, Dahl, 2006). The author proposes a using a post-occupancy evaluation (POE) to add subjective data to the information collected by the BIM system. Though his proposal is to use a survey that is separate from BIM, he suggests implementing a feedback system that directly links to end-user input to the model. However, building on Carter’s PPGIS and Clare Cooper Marcus’s work in San Francisco (Pink Palace to Rosa Parks Towers: High Rise Rehabilitation Using Environment and Behavior Research, 1988), which utilized interviews to obtain information from residents, a more powerful POE that captures a narrative of the everyday experience could be employed online. For example, building occupants could describe the fluctuations in temperature during the day and provide information that may not be collected by sensors connected to the BIM system, such as reflected sunlight off adjacent buildings. The Internet platform for project management that was introduced earlier is a good example of a venue where multiple users could provide both textual and graphical information. Of course, the interpretation of such information would be more involved than a simple survey, but could be employed after seasonal or operational changes to gain a clearer picture of the resulting environment. As such tools for the collection of qualitative data are developed for post-occupancy situations, similar tools could be used to involve the community in the design process.

A Contemporary Vernacular

It should be evident that while technology is certainly a tool that can be used to increase participation in the design process, it is not a panacea that will solve all of our design woes. It cannot substitute for social engagement and should evolve in such a way that it can be used by an average citizen who lacks the specialized training required to operate and understand complex systems such as BIM and GIS. This evolution will hopefully revolve around two attributes that are accessible to the majority of people: images and narrative.

A contemporary vernacular could be modeled on two of the research projects described in this paper. An effective conceptual framework could be based on the Hou and Rios paper that emphasizes community building as the step before any public participation. While this could have a significant online component, it is paramount that the transition is made to the real world, especially given the unequal distribution of Internet access and the fact that many groups, such as the elderly or non English-speaking immigrants, would likely be passed over if the organization depended too heavily on technology. Another lesson from Union Point Park is that many groups with varying interests came together over shared interests that resulted in a large pro-park presence.

A participatory design process such as that utilized in the Pilsen revitalization project would be an effective way to combine the social and technological experiences. It would be in this arena that images and narratives could be synthesized into a representation of how the community envisioned its future. In this study, the University played an integral role by providing the technological expertise to operate the GIS system, but this responsibility could perhaps be shifted to a non-profit organization that focused on community design.

It must also not be forgotten that after the building is built, or the park is constructed, end-user feedback should be constantly acquired in order to learn what design features were effective. As Paul Walker Clarke asserts, “it is false to assume that, once a physical evocation of (social) values is constructed, the desired sociability and participatory citizenship will ensue” (The Ideal of Community and Its Counterfeit Construction, Journal of Architectural Education, 2005). Rousseau says men create and government and government informs the next generation of men; Lefebvre says the same about space, but it must be recognized that public reactions will not necessarily be what was intended by the designer. A post-occupancy evaluation that can be completed online or in person would be one way to understand the success of the project.

Finally, referring back to the ubiquitous American culture of consumption, it should be noted that all of these processes require a certain amount of activity that cannot be easily classified as work or leisure. Participation falls somewhere between these extremes and likely resembles the former more than the latter, but that does not mean it has to be drab. As Papanek professes, “form follows fun”: A park or library meant for the enjoyment and enrichment of the community should not be discussed in stuffy church basements but, rather, in an environment and fashion that evokes the intended finished product. It is this sense of ritual in creation that Walter Benjamin attributes to real art, and given that one function of art is to reflect the current social situation, what better way can this be accomplished than by the democratic creation of places by the collective social body?

Absence

2008-12-07T09:44:00.000-08:00

So, it has been a while since I last posted. I've had computer problems (solved by the Apple Care program) and a research paper due for a class I was taking at UW (ARCH 598 -- Environmental Design and Well-Being). I'll post the paper shortly.

Equal Rights March

2008-11-15T18:56:00.001-08:00

Another Point of View

2008-11-11T22:50:00.000-08:00

Contrary to popular opinion, not everyone in Seattle is delighted by Obama's victory.

Architecture in the Age of Conceptual Reproduction

2008-11-11T22:32:00.000-08:00

In 1936, Walter Benjamin wrote that "even the most perfect reproduction of a work of art is lacking in one element: its presence in time and space, its unique existence at the place where in happens to be." As anyone with two eyes and any aesthetic sensibility will note, the two bastardizations of Pb Elemental's 12th and John Residence are anything but even a satisfactory reproduction of the the style of the original. As for presence in time and space, I suspect that for years to come, perceptive individuals will be able to see the authentic work and the copycats; they will be able to discern that which came to be through the "ritual" of creation from those that were hastily modified on the exterior to play off the original.

Election Night

2008-11-10T13:18:00.000-08:00

Below is a short video I made documenting the election night celebrations on Capitol Hill and in downtown Seattle (and in case you were wondering, it was picked up by the website for Ebony and Jet magazines!). The only camera I had at my disposal was my Nikon digital camera in video mode. I filmed everything from my bike so please excuse any shakiness; I was trying not to crash.

I had never attempted to make a video before but I'm pleased with the results of using this small camera and iMovie. I'm currently having daydreams of a sort of public art projection project that could adorn the blank walls that so many buildings offer the streets. As for content, I was thinking themes that would likely be of concern to readers of this website like nature. Maybe we could start by showing clips from Andy Goldsworthy's Rivers and Tides on the blank side of the Sheraton and then move on to make something of our own? Click here for an example of projection on public buildings (though there are many out there).

Urban Election

2008-10-30T12:40:00.000-07:00

While watching Obama's short program last night, I was reminded of this post on BLDGBLOG, which raises the question of the importance of small-town values when our nation (and the world) is becoming more urban all the time. Check it out.

The Argonaut Folly

2008-10-17T21:19:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how many visitors to this site have read the "manifesto" that launched it. The original intent was to form a group of like-minded individuals who would develop a green, multifamily cooperative in which they would live, similar to a family buying a plot of land and having a contractor build them a house. In an effort to keep people's attention and not just say, "hey guys, let's do this," I have spent the majority of my blogging time commenting on projects around Seattle and trying to express my thoughts on what makes cities livable. However, I just finished reading an article in n+1 about similar projects throughout history, starting with Jason and the Argonauts and continuing up to actual co-housing projects as well as being manifested in the comic book, X-Men.

You should read the article; it was written by Joshua Glenn and is titled The Argonaut Folly. The Seattle Public Library has a subscription to n+1 and you can find the essay in issue five.

The gist of is argument, which is counter to what I've written, is that the group need not be all that similar. The only real point about which to rally is freedom from the quotidian. While this is a little more loose than I had initially imagined, it makes plenty of sense. All I'd ask is that our loose band of rebels/misfits/dreamers has the means to uphold their end of the project, and is committed to constructing a seriously eco-friendly abode. Sounds simple, right?

Mr. Glenn ends his article with a plea for anyone with similar feelings to contact him by letter. That's exactly what I'm doing here, electronically. With that said, I'm going to write the gentleman a letter this weekend. Maybe you'll write me an email.

Pike/Pine

2008-10-10T06:37:00.000-07:00

A recent announcement from Allied Arts of Seattle:

Pike/Pine neighborhood conservation open house

Tuesday, October 14th
5:30 pm - 7:30 pm
Seattle Central Community College Room 1110

Seattle City Councilmember Tom Rasmussen invites you to an open house to discuss neighborhood conservation and the future of Pike/Pine. City staff will provide information about the first phase of proposed Land Use Code changes intended to continue the implementation of the Pike/Pine Neighborhood Plan and to protect the special character of Pike/Pine.

The Pike/Pine neighborhood of Capitol Hill has had a special zoning designation since 1995. This zoning, known as an "overlay district," has promoted the development we have seen, with commercial buildings on the ground floor, and housing above. Unfortunately, the development has caused the demolition of unique buildings and the loss of small local businesses that make Pike/Pine a unique and affordable neighborhood. The proposed Land Use Code changes will address these issues.

For more information contact Councilmember Tom Rasmussen at (206) 624-8808 or tom.rasmussen@seattle.gov

Not So Huge

2008-10-02T21:02:00.000-07:00

I took these photos back in August while walking from downtown to lower Queen Anne. The first is a construction photo of the Alex Condos, which likely looks completely different now, and the latter is the headquarters of Pensar Development, an engineering company. Though these buildings serve different purposes, they are similar in size and that's what draws me to each.

In the era of (hopefully dead) block-long developments and worse (Brooklyn's Atlantic Yards -- see Dissent article here), it is so refreshing to see something at a more reasonable scale. Take Pb Elemental's 151 Lofts: would you rather live in a wonderful building like this or, as the narrator says in Fight Club, a filing cabinet for widows and young professionals, like the offensively reactionary (not to mention intrusive with respect to the sidewalk) Olive 8? And in all honesty, I'm not even that into the modernist aesthetic. It just happens that several of the projects at the scale I cherish were designed in this fashion.

I was reminded of Jane Jacobs' dislike for large projects while recently reading about the Kelo v. New London (2005) Supreme Court decision that upheld that city's right to exercise eminent domain on the grounds of spurring economic development (the city subsequently handed the land over to private developers to execute the redevelopment plan). Before you freak out, as I did -- I thought eminent domain was only used for projects that served the public -- rest assured that the case didn't set any precedent for such behavior. It basically says that economic development for depressed areas is beneficial to the public and that cities must exercise caution and not play favorites, etc.

Anyway, besides pointing out these questionable uses of eminent domain (fifty years earlier), Jacobs discusses some negative sides of huge projects. A major one is how they attempt to change an area immediately (cataclysmic money is thrown at an area rather than gradual money being slowly invested) when the process of true community building takes time. Another downfall is that block-long developments, like the Sheraton along 7th Ave, are bland visually while areas made up of small, diverse buildings, like Fremont, are interesting.

While the Alex Condos may never develop into a full-fledged "community," I'd bet the residents feel more like one than those in the high-rises; and though skyscrapers atop podiums are all the rage, they certainly don't offer much to one experiencing the city from the sidewalk.

New Economy

2008-09-30T07:03:00.000-07:00

I'm left wondering if a good old-fashioned economy, based on local production and consumption, is exactly what we need?

Wise Buildings

2008-09-18T21:57:00.000-07:00

No, not Smart Buildings, though the concept is very important, but wise buildings. Many would not consider the Convention Center that special, other than the fact that it's big, spans the highway, managed to expand amidst the WTO protests, and has public restrooms and exceptional recycling bins. But take an escalator up to the second level -- where it opens to freeway park -- to find a dizzying display of aphoristic wisdom.

A few gems I recorded today:

Automation is deadly
Humanism is obsolete
Private property created crime
Expiring for love is beautiful but stupid
Abuse of power comes as no surprise

I think of this as anti-advertising; like HAL or a benevolent Big Brother hidden away in the back corner of one of our public spaces. I'm not sure who the artist is or where the quotes come from, but I feel like they are getting away with something, sort of like Fred Seidel's poems that found their way into the Wall Street Journal (see Phillip Connor's article in n+1 number four).

I'd like to see a more visible public installation of art like this and I would love to document people's reactions to it. Think of the tourists riding the escalator in the library, only to be disturbed by the voices of Braincast saying, "I want more...more...more." That could be all of us, shaken awake by an actual message in lieu of an advertisement.

Thanks (8th and Seneca)

2008-09-15T00:03:00.000-07:00

In the spirit of the old-fashioned alcohol-fueled diatribe of Hugeasscity (just kidding, Dan), I'd like to like to stand at the corner of 8th and Seneca and yell at the developer Levin Manzies, for leaving the Alfaretta Apartments partially demolished, when they owe us (though I'm not sure we want) the Seneca Towers.

In all fairness, I don't have the inside scoop as to what is happening at this site but it looks like it has been abandoned. Does anyone know what's going on?

Fifth Ave. Recycling

2008-09-11T00:11:00.000-07:00

While I recognize that we in Seattle are ahead of the most big cities in the public recycling race, I have a few concerns, mainly concerning what can be recycled in these receptacles. To start it off, we are all likely familiar with the standard container for cans and bottles (plastic and glass). Often these are overflowing with newspapers and paper coffee cups, the latter of which, to my knowledge, are not recyclable anyway and are specifically forbidden by the sign. I believe I've seen one of these that welcomes paper but I can't be sure (see below for the final verdict).

Across the street and a block south, one can find a newer incarnation of the mixed recycling container. The signage is not very descriptive but I presume cans and bottles are permissible. But what about newspaper or office paper?

But wait, another block south and one will find two new discriminating containers in front of the IBM building, a full block apart.

So, now I'm receiving mixed messages. It seems that a block ago I could dispose of aluminum and plastic bottles in the same bin but now I must separate them out? What about glass?

Turning to the internet for answers, as I often do, I find that only aluminum and tin cans, plastic and glass bottles can be recycled in all containers, regardless of what the sign says or doesn't say. All paper coffee cups (Tully's has compost bins for these in their stores), newspaper, and food waste goes in the garbage can. Okay, I can work with this but what about those walking the streets who haven't looked this up? Or the tourists?

And then there is the issue of how well we office workers understand the recycling programs in our own domain.

I share with you a photo of the newest issue of Arcade, which is chock full of articles about recycling, reuse, composting, etc., perched precariously on a garbage can in my office. I returned it to a more visible locale so that it could hopefully be read before being recycled but its true fate may have been the landfill.

Disaster Precedes Development

2008-09-10T13:46:00.000-07:00

Evidently the site where United Flight 93 crashed is becoming a tourist destination. The story is familiar: the local economy was once dependent on production (mining, the steel industry) and is currently pursuing an economic boost through consumption (tourism). Though the visitors will likely be from a different economic group than those coming to Seattle to patronize The Four Seasons and Seattle Art Museum, the same idea of tourism-produced development is in full effect. It will supposedly be classy affair, the antithesis of the tacky Old Faithful gift shop model, but only time will tell. I find this gruesome but maybe I'm just no fun; feel free to disagree.

Livable Cities

2008-09-09T23:37:00.000-07:00

I present to you as evidence of Seattle striving to become more livable: The Crocodile Cafe is reopening in early 2009.

Scroll down for less exciting but more relevant posts.

Cultural Problem

2008-09-08T22:38:00.001-07:00

Following is my attempt at responding to a comment/question by Spencer (who also comments here) on Hugeasscity, regarding the new, public/private stairway that graces the back/front of the new Four Season, as well as my trying to sort out some of my own thoughts.

His comment reads:

"so, if this is a cultural problem, who is responsible if the developers and owners are not willing to give appropriately back to the public?"

Architecture, urban planning and city building are cultural problems precisely because they are expressions of our culture, just like movies or novels. Some, like Charles Mudede, think of this building, or buildings grouped together in a city, in the same vein as these other forms of expression; that is, as art. After reading Jane Jacobs, I'm comfortable saying this is reductionism at its finest because art is an interpretation and/or representation of life, that is controlled by the artist, while a building is a piece of a city, which is complex and functional and, as Jacobs says, is the actual life that art represents (or, more broadly, it is space that serves as the setting for all our interactions and commerce, as well as the output of interactions and commerce -- see Henri Lefebvre). She goes on to assert that trying to convert a city into art is "attempting to substitute art for life." That said, I think it's clear that cities and art are indeed closely related, as forms of cultural expression, but the former is more democratically complex (it affects more people than, say, this Friday's production of Shrek, The Musical).

I think most everyone would agree that the dominant contemporary American culture is consumption, and this portion of the city is the epicenter of an incredibly lucrative form of consumption: tourism. Like Dan wrote, the improvements to this part of town -- read as the Seattle Art Museum expansion -- have made it even more valuable and were undertaken to provide nice, clean, upscale venues for expensive tastes (i.e. revenue). I was reading part of gentleman's dissertation about public art in Philadelphia and, among many other things I've mentioned here, he was discussing the special packages available to tourists that included fancy accommodations, dinners, and tickets to a Cezanne exhibit: I'd bet that as soon as the hotel opens, there are packages available that include a room at the Four Seasons, dinners at The Brooklyn or Capital Grill, and unlimited access to SAM. Oh, and the Lusty Lady surely remains as a token of a less dignified, more working-class and production-oriented past.

I bring this up to point out that the developers and city really aren't that interested in giving anything palpable or experiential back to the public: we just live here. We always contribute to the economic well-being of the region. I'm not sure who that makes the responsible party but I suppose it's all of us, for letting increased levels of consumption be the gauge by which we measure success.

The argument about consumption and capitalism and emulation is nothing new but I think this is a perfect example of where it leads. I'm not calling for a township rebellion either -- though that might not be the worst thing to happen -- I'm just trying to figure things out.

Greenbuild 2008 – Seattle Delegation

2008-09-04T13:20:00.000-07:00

A quick reminder that the USGBC Greenbuild Expo is coming up from November 19-21 in Boston. If you’re planning on attending, note that the early registration deadline is this coming Monday, September 8th. After this date, it will cost you another $100 to attend (it already costs $600 if you’re a member of USGBC).

As of last night, the hotel rooms in the reserved block were all taken. There are reasonably priced accommodations still available via hotels.com but they will likely be going quickly too.

The creators of Konstructr are organizing a “Seattle Delegation” that will meet before the conference, at the conference and after we return to Seattle. With myriad educational sessions offered, it is impossible to attend every one that interests you so this will be a great chance to share information and ideas with others, as well to partake in some good old-fashioned social networking. I also hear they might be making t-shirts…As an attendee last year, who returned to Seattle excited and full of ideas only to find that I was the only person I knew in attendance, I can say this will be a great opportunity for both social and intellectual exchange. Visit (and join!) Konstructr or send me an email and I’ll pass your contact information along.

Goats Again

2008-08-27T18:50:00.000-07:00

The goats were still on Capitol Hill this morning and, as promised, I had my camera.

Goats, Chickens and Cheap Shit Condos

2008-08-26T20:35:00.000-07:00

The one day I left my camera at home I stumbled across some authentic "green" behavior on the border of Capitol Hill. Between the dog park on Pine -- directly East of I-5 -- and the highway there were about twenty goats grazing on the grass that slopes down to the freeway retaining wall. Evidently the steward of the dog park had contacted Rent-a-Ruminant to trim the grass in the most natural way possible. I apologize for the lack of photos but see SLOG for an ongoing quasi-discussion. From now on I never leave my camera at home.

This reminds me of something else I've recently heard about but have yet to explore. Backyard chicken ranching would certainly be a "green" feature that would fit into my vision for a co-op.

And in the spirit of honesty and directness, I bring you the newest Seattle residential/land use blog to hit the internet: Cheap Shit Condos. Thanks to urbnlivn for linking to it and adding some laughter to my evening.

Design For Livability Forum

2008-08-25T16:42:00.000-07:00

I just received another email from Allied Arts about a three-day livable city design extravaganza. I'm actually going to the Austin City Limits Music Festival that weekend but I'd would attend at least part of this forum otherwise.

Design For Livability Forum
September 25, 2008 - September 27, 2008

For more information contact Ezra Basom
206.624.0433
ezrab@alliedarts-seattle.org

Three Day Conference on how to design and advocate for great cities

How will we design our communities to accommodate enormous population growth, yet respond to critical climate change issues and improve our environment, economy and standard of living now and for future generations?

How do we change the American Dream from a society that chooses poorly-planned, sprawling development to one that prefers vibrant, walkable well designed neighborhoods?

AIA Seattle, the Cascade Land Conservancy and Allied Arts are joining together to present a three-day symposium on the questions of sustainable cities and how they can work.

Please join us for all or part of the conference. We'll kick the discussion off with a Thursday evening conversation with Carol Coletta. Friday is geared towards professional training for design professionals, planners and policy makers, and the Saturday Taking Action Day is public advocacy training for everyone to learn the skills and hear success stories about what it takes to shape your community.

The schedule:
Sept. 25, Town Hall Seattle. Changing the American Dream: Public Lecture with Carol Coletta, president and CEO of CEOs for Cities and host and producer of the nationally syndicated public radio show, Smart City. $5 members, $10 non-members,registration required.

Sept. 26, Seattle Center NW Rooms. Doing Density Right: Full Day Summit for Design, Development & Policy Maker Professionals. AIA Credit: 8 LUs / 3 HSWs; Cost $165 for members, $85 Government and non-profit, $35 students, $260 non-members, registration required.

Sept. 27, Seattle Central Community College. Taking Action: Half Day Public advocacy training that unpacks a grassroots organizer toolkit and teaches you how to develop a message, pitch the media, and lobby your government. Learn how to apply these skills to issues you care about with briefings on the Seattle Waterfront, Arts Neighborhoods, and a Neighborhood Building Project. Free admission, registration required.

Lost Time and Density

2008-08-24T21:11:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I walked past the Joshua Green Building and saw some workers toiling with the Carroll's Jewelers clock out front.

As one would suspect by looking at this photo, the clock has since been moved. According to this blurb on the DJC site, the shop closed in the spring and the clock was donated to the MOHAI.

I always liked this clock because it reminds me of the cover of The Adventures of Augie March, and the famous clock on Marshall Fields in Chicago.

At times I'm a sucker for nostalgia. Obviously, the need for public clocks has long since evaporated but the patina on the Chicago clock, as well as the dense crowds occupying the sidewalk on the Bellow cover, transport me to a time when city life seemed to be bustling rather than emptying out after standard working hours. And, true, the photo on the Bellow cover was taken a few years in to the Great Depression -- a time to which I'd rather not return -- when the density was about 25% greater than it is now. I can't say what Seattle would look like with a 25% increase in density but I suspect that it would probably be a good thing.

Diversity

2008-08-21T21:15:00.000-07:00

I'm about due for a positive post so let's visit the corner of 14th and Pine on Capitol Hill, specifically the building on the southwest corner.

I think it's fair to call this the apotheosis of functional diversity; on the ground level it houses an Italian restaurant, a furniture store, an architecture firm, a salon, a children's clothing store and a gardening store, all of which are capped by what I assume are apartments. Spatially this building is not overwhelming; it takes up about a sixth of the block on which it sits (as opposed to the Braeburn Apartments, which take up half of an identical block and are a story taller at the corner, and, thankfully, house the Online Coffee Company). Economically, I would say the retailers in this building are reasonably priced though not exactly appealing to a different "class" of consumer (they are all independent outlets, to my knowledge).

Take a step back and you'll notice that the entire corner is diverse. I took this photo from in front of Online, across the street from a caterer to the west and a church to the south. Not to mention that there is also a fire station, a watch shop, a piano studio, a real estate office and the sales office for the mythological Cameo Condos (more on this later) on the same block.

Granted, this corner isn't bustling with activity throughout the day. I think that is due to the fact that it is bounded on two sides by primarily residential areas and by a major road (Madison) a block away to the south. Regardless, this type of building -- modestly sized and functionally diverse -- seems like a better building block for the neighborhood than, say, the Press Condos, which take up an entire block of Belmont north of Pine and only offer the community a snooty restaurant/bar with a misspelled name that I can't even bring myself to type...oops, there is that negativity again.

Retail Diversity

2008-08-18T23:29:00.000-07:00

In Response to Jennifer Langston’s article in the Seattle P-I “Seattle’s small shops…”:

“Lively, diverse, intense cities contain the seeds of their own regeneration,” writes Jane Jacobs in the final sentence of The Death and Life of Great American Cities, her critique of postwar urban planning, which is often celebrated and frequently cited in the academic world, yet seemingly ignored in practice. Published nearly fifty years ago, her seminal work – which stresses, among other things, the importance of diversity, active streetscapes and buildings of all ages – remains incredibly relevant in the “world-class city” we are ostensibly trying to build. However, as Jennifer Langston shows in her article on the displacement of established independent retailers by shiny new mixed-use developments in West Seattle, Jacobs’ wisdom has again been relegated to the bookshelf while developers continue to homogenize our city in the name of expediency and low-risk returns.

Whether one is concerned with twin-tower condominium projects downtown, mid-rise and mixed-use condo projects on Capitol Hill or the ubiquitous townhouse rows that Lawrence Cheek described as “The Townhouse Scourge,” a poignant unifying theme is the disregard for diversity. The extent of this disregard is, paradoxically, remarkably diverse. It ignores both economic and aesthetic diversity: groups of varying income levels, living in or patronizing establishments diverse in function and form, are replaced by new groups in visually indistinctive, often block-long developments, which are affordable to only a small subset of the population. Spatial and temporal diversity also fall to the wayside: extensive redevelopment of an area isolates the new architecture in time, leaving it disconnected from the history of the area and often becoming the dominant style, which overpowers any remaining buildings. Traditional distinctions between public and private spaces are also blurred: a new project may, much like a shopping mall, provide intentional or de facto “public space” for the surrounding area, but if one attempts to partake in an old-fashioned public activity, such as handing out pamphlets or staging a political demonstration, the security guards will likely come running.

In the case of Funky Janes, the West Seattle consignment shop profiled in Langston’s article, which lost its first lease because it appealed to an alternative demographic, this disregard for diversity might better be described as paternalistic or even authoritarian, both adjectives that would probably make most businessmen, including developers, cringe.

On the other hand, developers like Dunn & Hobbes, who have helped propagate diversity on Capitol Hill with the Agnes Lofts and Pacific Supply Company hardware store restoration, show an authentic concern for the current residents, as well as the future residents whom they are hoping to attract. Returning to the spatial aspect of development, the modest size of these projects speaks volumes about the intent of the project: rather than attempting to transform the area via sheer magnitude, as in the case of block-long projects, they simply cut out a small parcel and become another integral part of the increasingly vibrant urban fabric; as for temporality, where the larger developments seek rapid change, the smaller are part of a slower organic evolution. Fremont was not built in a day.

We must remember that one of Seattle’s finest points is that it has not been overrun by big-box retailers and chain restaurants, at least not yet. Ensuring that small, independent, and diverse enterprises can continue to thrive is of paramount importance as we strive to create a vibrant, livable and sustainable built environment.

Facebook for Design Professionals

2008-08-15T00:35:00.001-07:00

Today I received an email from a reader of this site referring me to Konstructr, a social networking site for those involved in the construction industry (Designers, Planners, Financiers, etc). The site is still new and the creators are looking for feedback, but I would recommend that anyone with similar interests/career paths take a look.

Downtown

2008-08-09T21:17:00.000-07:00

While walking past 1700 Olive on Friday, I noticed this Energy Star sign in the window. I don't have any familiarity with this ranking system but I was happy to see the sign.

This building is home Clise Properties, who, by the way, owns quite a few properties in the Denny Triangle area, some of which is for sale according to this map. In fact, the purpose of my walk was to try and photograph this area where Westlake bisects the bland grid of downtown. This area, which begins at the back corner of Westlake Center, where Fifth crosses Olive, has been my favorite part of Seattle (visually) since I moved here three years ago.

This sort of layout is exactly what Jane Jacobs is talking about when she says, "a good many city streets (not all) need visual interruptions, cutting off the indefinite distant view and at the same time visually heightening and celebrating intense street use by giving it a hint of enclosure and entity." This photo of the Medical and Dental Building doesn't do the area justice, but it shows how nonorthogonal streets, coupled with visual interruptions can make for a more interesting district.

Moving North and returning to Clise, we come to 7th/Westlake/Virginia. Not too long ago there was a rendering of a future building atop the white billboard in the upper left corner -- if you look closely you can see the poles that supported the sign -- but perhaps they are not continuing with the project. According to the aforementioned map, this property is for sale.

Another property that is not, at least to my knowledge, for sale is the eyesore of a McDonalds at 6th/Westlake/Virginia.

I love the small triangular lot on which this abomination sits and think it would be a fantastic location for a building shaped like the long lost Hotel Seattle or Pb Elemental's Trophy Building.

(rendering taken from Pb Elemental's website -- http://www.pbelemental.com)

I can't help but see the potential of this area and hope that future developments are small and diverse, rather than huge monoliths like Insignia Towers, under construction a few blocks away (on a former Clise property).

A Land Lease, Perhaps?

2008-07-30T08:26:00.000-07:00

As previously mentioned, my mother's aunt owns a house over in Fremont, on a lot that is zoned L-2. She and her husband have moved to a retirement home and the house is for sale. The price is high, of course, because it's in a terrific location, but they haven't been getting many calls; no surprise really, with the slow economy. However, I'm wondering if pursuing a land lease could be an option for building on this site.

For those who have never heard of a land lease, it is an arrangement where the owner leases the land for, say, 99 years and the developer else builds on it, then pays the owner a monthly rent. Unico does this downtown on the Metropolitan tract; in fact I work in one of these buildings. Anyway, it's an interesting scenario that could possibly lead to lower prices.

Check out this article from the Wall Street Journal for some pros and cons of buying a co-op that has a land lease.

Any lawyers or real estate professionals out there with experience in land leases?

Friday Night

2008-07-24T22:00:00.000-07:00

The text below is from an email I received earlier today from Allied Arts. I heard Mark Hinshaw lecture at UW earlier this year and it was very informative, so I recommend this presentation to anyone reading this site. I was planning on going to the Capitol Hill Block Party tomorrow night but I may end up at Weber Thompson instead.

Downtown Streets:
Places for People or Designed for Cars?

July 25, 2008
We'll start at 6:30 p.m.
Program begins at 7:45
Event Location:
Weber Thompson
225 Terry Avenue N. Suite 200

RSVP: 206.624.0433
ezrab@alliedarts-seattle.org

What makes a downtown street work for people? Is it just well-designed sidewalks next to cute shops? Or is the juxtaposition between vehicles and pedestrians important? Can we accommodate trucks and buses with people and bikes?
The Governor is talking about getting rid of the curb-parking on downtown avenues - what would that do to the human experience? Should we ask the trucks that use the Viaduct to move to 2nd & 4th Avenues? Are we being forced into a "devils choice" between a pedestrian oriented downtown and a great waterfront?

Different streets meet different needs: green streets, main streets, transit streets, walking streets, boulevards, commerce streets, and café streets. What's the right mix of streets for Center City? How could our city creatively use public art and open space funding to make our streets match our status as an international city?

What ideas do you have from your visits to other cities? What do you think Seattle does well and what could we do better?

Join us for a fun look at what will make our downtown streets work for people. We'll hear from a panel of experts who will discuss the many ways we can find clever ideas to create a vision for Seattle as a place with inspiring public spaces.

Panel & Presenters
Mark Hinshaw, Author, True Urbanism, and Director of Urban Design, LMN Architects
Gary Johnson, Center City Strategy Coordinator, City of Seattle
Peg Staeheli, Principal, SvR Design
Moderated By: Brian Steinburg
Senior Associate and LEED AP, Weber Thompson

Hosted By: Weber Thompson

aarts@speakeasy.net
Allied Arts Beer and Culture Nights

Allied Arts was founded in 1954 under the name of "The Beer and Culture Society." More than fifty years later, we still like that name so we're honoring it with our "Beer and Culture Nights."

By convening groups of smart, energetic and public-spirited citizens in an informal setting and by providing snack food, beer and a hot topic, we hope to inspire free-ranging and uninhibited discussion that will be enormously fun and can lead to civic action.

Attendance to the event is free -- all donations are appreciated, regardless of size. Your contribution supports Allied Arts.

Allied Arts of Seattle | www.alliedarts-seattle.org
RSVP to: ezrab@alliedarts-seattle.org or (206) 624-0433

Homeowner's Association Meeting

2008-07-23T12:48:00.000-07:00

Though my wife and I only rent a unit in a condo building, I decided to go to an HOA board meeting last night. The purpose of my attendance was to inquire about composting food waste (coffee grounds, paper towels, vegetable scraps, etc). I had been told by a member of the board that several residents were interested and that I should attend to talk about the issue, so I did. I was also interested in seeing how many residents attended and witnessing the dynamic of the group.

Attendance was paltry. The board was there in full force (five members), as were the property manager and the onsite caretaker, plus three homeowners and myself, for a grand total of eleven (I believe there are seventy three units in the building). The agenda wasn’t too long but the composting discussion was the last item of new business, and therefore occupied the final position of the night.

A detailed account of the discussion that lasted two and a half hours before we got to composting would scare off any reader so I’ll just hit the highlights:

1) A two-sided form, prepared by an impassioned resident and former board member, which was to be distributed to all residents soliciting interest in low-flow toilets and building wi-fi, was presented. Much discussion ensued about the wi-fi portion and the costs associated with the installation ($27,000). Maybe twenty minutes later reason triumphed, and the form, with any mention of money removed, was approved. Oh, and the low-flow toilet proposition was to be “spun” to seem “hip, green, and sustainable,” since “that’s cool these days,” while the board’s true concern was over the water bill.

2) A revision to the 2008 budget was proposed by the treasurer. Evidently, a certain amount of money was allocated for miscellaneous expenditures and the treasurer wanted to insert it as line items where it had actually been spent, therefore reducing the negative variance. For example, there is one unit the association owns that had not been leased until May, though the budget counted on income beginning at an earlier date. Consequently, this line item appeared over budget when in fact some of the money allocated as miscellaneous could have been used to cover the cost. Another half-hour discussion ensued about the politics of presenting the budget to the homeowners and the appropriateness of modifying it midyear (evidently budgets are set annually and are not to be changed, even if the money is just shifted within, during the year; they are only to be reflected upon when the new budget is being determined. Interesting.) It was decided to approve the revisions, but not before one of the board members had left and the aforementioned impassioned resident (who opposed the revisions) yelled out, “where is he?!!”

I’ll skip the discussion of the new hardscape in front of the building that is cracking and the dealings with arborists about the trees in the rear courtyard and get to my immediate concern, the composting.

The impassioned resident proposed building a worm bin with about $100 of association money, which sounded great to everyone: we have lots of planters and flower beds so the new soil would be useful. I asked how long it would take and suggested maybe disposing of food waste in the yard waste container for the interim, at a cost of $5.35 a month, with a one year commitment. I was immediately shot down by the impassioned resident who said that what the way we are currently disposing of food waste (in the garbage) is free and he didn’t care if it was ten cents a year for city pickup. He asked how long I’d lived there (1 year, 3 months) and said it would take a very long time to get the bin built and operational. And with that, the meeting came to a close.

Evidently seniority as a resident and concern over the funds trumps progressive behavior – no surprise there. And it seems that one impassioned resident, who talks the loudest and lets emotion trump reason (fanaticism in lieu of intellectualism, says Paolo Freire), can maintain the status quo when at least sixty two other people, with varying opinions, surely, are holed up and not participating in the decision-making. It’s too bad, really.

I’ve since discovered that Madison Market has a composting area that I can use for my food waste, so my conscience can be clear. I’ve also asked the caretaker and the board whether I can order the cheap curbside pickup for all interested parties while the worm bin construction progresses. We’ll see where that goes.

Updates

2008-07-20T21:49:00.000-07:00

Quick update on the Medhane Alem church sale and 13th and Olive: though I still have not heard who bought it, I can faithfully report that it is not coming down. My wife spoke with one of the workers painting the windows last week and he said it's there to stay. I snapped this photo of the exterior scaffolding today as we walked past en route to the Broadway Sunday Farmer's Market and the Imagine Capitol Hill festival.

Secondly, though I respect Charles Mudede's opinion wholeheartedly, a comment of his on SLOG, most likely written in haste, has been haunting me. Responding to a post on Hugeasscity criticizing his take on the new Four Seasons building, he said:

I couldn’t care less about the street and what the building is doing to it.

Granted, he was defending his article, where he celebrated the "coding" of the new structure, but every time I think about his comment, I think of this hideous stretch of 7th Ave, between Pine and Pike.

To me, this is the apotheosis of architecture that complete ignores the context in which it is constructed. I spit in the general direction of the Sheraton (and I'm sure Charles does too).

Return to the Land

2008-07-17T07:57:00.000-07:00

On my road trip to and from Denver, I listened to most of Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma (purchased at The Country Bookshelf in Bozeman, Montana). As you may know, I'm a proponent of locally grown organic food so this audiobook was especially interesting. It reminded me of an orchard that my aunt owns down in Rufus, Oregon, about 100 miles east of Portland. I have yet to visit, or to even meet her, but I'd be lying if I said I never have daydreams about growing organic fruit and free range eggs to sell at farmer's markets in Portland.

Mixed Primary Use Redux

2008-07-17T07:05:00.000-07:00

Continuing my walk from a from a previous post, I find myself on 12th Ave. in Capitol Hill. In retrospect, I should have snapped a photo of the Seattle Trading Post but I was heading for the locksmith below as my reference point.

It may not be glamorous but who says commerce, especially in the service industry, is supposed to be? I'm quickly reminded of Brooklyn Storefronts, a collection of photographs that shows many of the eclectic small businesses throughout the borough. Moving on, almost directly across the street is Good Services Plumbing and Heating. which I would have patronized a few months back in lieu of Roto-Rooter -- even though they did a fine job on a slow bathtub drain -- had I been aware of its existence.

From home maintenance to recreation and transportation, 12th Ave. has you covered. Take 12th Ave Bicycles, located in the lower level of an apartment building at the intersection of Howell.

Moving to mental sustenance, and another example of a small business mingling with residences, one can find the relocated Twice Sold Tales a few blocks west of Broadway on Denny.

These examples make me glow with hope for the city and neighborhood; they are examples of Jane Jacobs' much lauded diversity seeping into unused corners (especially the latter two) and Michel de Certau's "getting by." In the last few weeks, I've traveled to both Denver and North Texas (Denton is my hometown) and have gained an even greater appreciation for Seattle's plentiful independent business.

An important tie that binds these businesses to the type of housing I'm proposing we construct is mentioned throughout this site and is, of course, the use value. These shops are not relying on the glitz and glamor of PR, marketing or slogans ( "newer, better, different"). They are simply what they are, small businesses.

Point of View

2008-07-09T20:31:00.000-07:00

Is it just me or is this an incredible waste of paper?

Mixed Primary Uses

2008-07-08T22:48:00.000-07:00

I snapped a photo of this proposed land use sign, at the corner of 13th and Pine, a few weeks ago (I was on vacation in Denver last week; we drove and our Prius averaged 51 mpg for the trip!). Like Josh over at Cascadia Rising, I've been reading Jane Jacobs' The Death and Life of Great American Cities, and have been paying closer attention to the sorts of mixed uses that new developments house. This building, if I remember correctly, will be office above (and maybe residential) with restaurants at street level. As a frequent patron of Capitol Hill eateries, I generally welcome this, but the Jacobs book had me thinking about more diverse types of ground level establishments.

Recalling a post on Hugeasscity, where Dan laments the loss of the BMW dealership on Pike for providing diversity and working class employment, I set out to find similar retailers: locksmiths instead of boutiques, plumbers in lieu of architects. I immediately headed over to Pike where one can find Central Vacuum Service and Dave's Appliance Rebuild, shown below, respectively, within yards of each other.

In all honesty, I've never visited either of these shops (vacuum works fine and our apartment building has a shared laundry) but it is reassuring to know that both are here in the neighborhood. Seeing these reminded me of the ACE Hardware that used to be on top of Queen Anne, which in turn led me to recall my neighborhood ACE in Denver, two blocks from the condo in which I lived before moving to Seattle. I was at a loss: could it be that there was no local hardware store in my neighborhood, that I'd have to drive to the Home Depot by the Starbucks headquarters to buy some wood glue if needed?

It wasn't until today that my wife reminded me about Pacific Supply Company, on 12th between Pike and Madison. I had seen it before but failed to remember. Oh, and it's a co-op!

In case you were wondering, the man in front of the store is hard at work installing benches around the sidewalk planters. I can't say for sure whether or not these were here before, but I am very glad to see them. Jacobs repeatedly stresses the importance of having people milling around and hanging out on public sidewalks and cites the myriad benefits, including pedestrian safety and the vibrancy that attracts many of us to the city in the first place.

I have more photos from this walk that I will post soon but thought it worth mentioning that, in case it isn't clear, the point of highlighting these various retailers is that they are antithetical to typical suburban development, which relies on auto-dependent big box retailers and shopping centers, to serve the needs of residents. Stay tuned...

FYI

2008-06-25T21:14:00.000-07:00

There is a unit for sale in the Princeton Co-op on 15th in Capitol Hill, immediately south of Howell. It's a remodeled top floor unit with green features, such as low VOC paint, bamboo and cork flooring, and a small energy efficient dishwasher. For more info, click here.

And the asking price is totally reasonable: $205,000. There are also links to the specialty banks that do share loans for co-ops.

Thanks, Max

2008-06-11T08:32:00.000-07:00

So, co-op's often appeal to people who are looking for a cheaper place to live vs people looking for an investment (use vs investment value).

Above is part of a comment from Max, who left a few comments on this site on Monday. I think he gets straight to the essence of what I'm suggesting we do: build community-developed, affordable, green, multifamily housing (my list of adjectives is ever-expanding). The point here isn't to buy into a condo/townhouse as a starter home, sell it for a $100k profit in a year, then buy something nicer, ad infinitum; it is to create a community, that's easy on the earth and reasonably priced: to borrow a phrase from one of Max's links, a development that is "environmentally, socially, and economically sustainable" (Sustainable Community Associates). Circumventing the standard development process which, in Marx's (and probably Max's) thought, means applying abstract labor (marketing, PR, minimum profit margins, aka business), would give the residents more control over the outcome of the project and keep the prices within reach.

He also provided an older link to a similar community development project in Baltimore called Buy a Block. Some of you hippies (just kidding) might call this gentrification posing as community-building and that's a valid point. However, the concept of starting with a group of people that wants an affordable, urban home, and is open to creative methods, is very similar to what I envision.

Meanwhile, on the political front, I'm trying to decide what I think about the Senate's failure to slap Big Oil with windfall profit taxes. As of now, I'm thinking it may be a good thing if it reduces driving in genereal, increases the market for hybrid cars and buries SUVs, and gets more people on transit. Maybe it will help Obama come November?

I was disappointed to hear that the bill also would have taken tax breaks away from oil companies and provided tax incentives for producers of alternative energy (wind, solar, etc). I'm not sure if this would have applied to on-site production, as would likely be applicable to our development, but it's a shame nonetheless.

An email to The Stranger

2008-06-02T15:03:00.000-07:00

I sent the following email to Charles Mudede at The Stranger in reponse to a recent article of his about the new Four Seasons in downtown Seattle. He has posted a response on SLOG addressing my concerns.

Charles,

In reading your "Leaves of Glass" article on the new Four Seasons, I found myself somewhat perplexed. I read Alexandros Washburn’s quote about contemporary virtue “being a concern for nature” as referring not only to the aesthetic aspects of a building, which you celebrated, but also to the functional aspects of the building, which you omitted. I looked around online and found no mention of any "sustainable" features of the building and, assuming this is indeed the case, I would have to conclude that the building's cladding merely projects the image of being concerned with nature, when in reality it is only serves as barrier between the affluent dwellers and the people on the street. Even though the courthouse was built before LEED Silver was required of all federal government buildings, I understand that it incorporates technology to reduce its impact on nature.

I understand you wrote this article as a visual art piece and agree with you that the colors and textures of the skin bring to mind the natural beauty of our region (as does Two Union, magnificently), but I see no virtue in a janus-like facade that advertises one thing while hiding another. Not to mention the fact that the entire building feels like it is snubbing the city and looking out to sea, but that's a completly different discussion.

Admittedly, I could be wrong; the Four Seasons could be a LEED platinum haven for the millionaires but I'd think they be publicizing that information, since that is one of our virtues in this corner of the world.

Thanks for reading and writing.

Cheers,
Keith

Madison Market

2008-05-28T06:32:00.000-07:00

Since we're talking about "sustainability," cooperatives, and consumption, I thought it was about time that I mentioned the Madison Market. I've only been shopping here for a little more than a year, since I moved to the neighborhood, but I sometimes wonder how I mananged without it. They specialize in local and organic food and garner my respect by combining social action into their business plan. The inspiration for this post was a sign I saw last night on the Odwalla cooler which notified customers that they no longer carry Coca Cola products (Odwalla or Glaceau Vitamin Water, etc; they never had cans of diet coke or anything) because their philosophies don't jibe. Instead, they will be carrying Columbia Gorge fruit juices, beginning in early June.

I know, it's not in the most attractive of buildings, but this time I'm not talking about the building.

In a quasi-phenomenology of the store, I'll start with the layout. It's small, probably about 20% the size of a Safeway or QFC. As you enter, there is a help desk, where you can learn more about the organization, which is typically flanked by some fresh fruit. Flowers and reusable shopping bags (I would say that 75% of customers use a form of reusable bag; the ongoing member election just proposed to start charging 10 cents per disposable bag, a la San Francisco and much of Europe, and hopefully Seattle in the near future) are for sale across from the desk. As you continue to walk, you approach the coffee/juice bar, which is foregrounded by tables that are typically occupied, and sits adjacent to the deli. A cooler also greets you with its many quick meals ranging from sushi rolls to chicken salad to hard-boiled eggs. Fresh bread, soup, a selection of cheeses comes up on your left as the checkout stands appear on the right.

As you enter the main shelving area, you might be surprised at the brands you see: Eden Organic (dried fruit), Peace Cereal, Cascade Fresh (yogurt), Hansen's (soda), R.W. Knudsen (juice), Ballard Organics (soap) and Lilly's hummus. You might also be surprised at the "origin" tag on much of the fresh produce; I know I was. The selection of frozen food is minimal and brands like Amy's, Cedar Lane, and Ethnic Gourmet are prominent. The beer section is small too but contains Deschutes, New Belgium (from Colorado, I know, but the brewery runs on wind power). There is a butcher with a selection of fresh meat and seafood, a wide selection of eggs (duck eggs?), and an extensive bulk foods section (bring your own container and weigh it at the check stands as you walk in; I'm still trying to remember to do this). A fresh peanut butter machine and coffee grinder (for all the fair-trade coffees) are available too.

Yes, it is a little more expensive to shops here than at Safeway but, I think, it is well worth it. I feel the focus is on quality rather than quantity. The size of the store and the small shopping carts make it feel more like a market (hence the name) than a wholesale warehouse. The ceiling is lower, the colors are earthy and the music is good. The magazines for sale at the checkout are Dwell, The New Yorker, Harper's, Adbusters, Bitch. Come on over, it's at 16th/Pine/Madison on Capitol Hill.

15th and Denny vs. 12th and John (and a little philosophy)

2008-05-21T16:03:00.000-07:00

Row 5!

Please pardon the exclamation point; I'm just excited that this new reactionary townhome "5-pack," as Hugeasscity calls them, finally has a name and a price. Row 5, from the mid-600's.

I've been watching this site since the groundbreaking and had higher hopes for what would grow out of the corner of 15th and Denny. Ah, and speaking of that intersection, if you follow the link you'll find this is also the name of the "company" that is building the units: "15th and Denny, L.L.C." I'm neither a lawyer, businessman, nor real estate professional, but I do know that LLC stands for "limited liability company." Please correct me if I'm wrong but, as I understand it, these organizations are easy to dissolve and, in the case of housing developments, often do and leave the unit owners without an entity to confront in case of shoddy construction. Not that this construction isn't top notch -- I don't know anything about it -- but it makes me wonder...

The banality of this architecture brings to mind a quote I've been saving from Lefebvre:

Surely it is the supreme illusion to defer to architects, urbanists or planners as being experts or ultimate authorities in matters relating to space. What the 'interested parties' here fail to appreciate is that they are bending their demands (from below) to suit commands (from above), and that this unforced renunciation on their part actually runs ahead of the wishes of the manipulators on consciousness.

In short, I read this as saying that often architects are forced to kowtow to developers (commanders), to surrender their creativity to design what is a proven money-maker, instead of listening to potential residents (demanders) to see what they actually want. If you've read through this site, you know that development initiated by the potential residents is what I am hoping to produce.

On the other hand, when the architects are the developers, you get results that are much more unique, a la 12th and John. Within a stone's throw of eachother, one can find the Anhalt Condominiums and Pb Elemental's 12th and John Residence. Built decades apart, both of these projects show what architects are capable of doing when freed from the reins of traditional developers.

Anhalt Condos (photo taken from seattle condo review; there are lots of bushes around the courtyard which makes it hard to photograph.)

12th and John Residence

Imagine what a group of commited residents, willing to pool their resources, could allow architects like these to design.

How about these?

2008-05-16T14:15:00.000-07:00

First, I apologize for the lack of posts lately; I'm neck deep in a class over at UW and between that and work, the majority of my time is occupied. The good news is I'm reading lots of Neo-Marxism and much of it could be applied to what we're talking about here on this site. Don't get scared and think I'm trying to build some "red commune" or anything; though they talk lots about revolution, the main point I'm extracting is shifting the power from the "establishment" (developers, in our case) to the "people" (that would be us, the folks interested in more affordable, dense, green urban housing). Maybe that sort of talk doesn't bother Seattleites but I'm from Texas, where we believe in freedom (sarcasm intended).

Anyway, taking a cue from DanB over at Hugeasscity, I took an early morning walk past a few historic multifamily developments that I think are of particularly nice design (and, like him, I wonder why there aren't more). All are on Capitol Hill; the first is on Republican, directly east of 15th, and actually has a unit for sale if you have half a million.

This is one of Frederick Anhalt's beauties that goes by the name "Twin Gables." This view is into the communal front yard which all of the main entrances face; the brick is classy and the location is wonderful as well. There probably aren't parking spaces (I didn't go down the alley), which would, unfortunately, be impossible to do today, but there are nice back doors out on to 16th.

Keeping with the shared front yard theme, I walked down to 14th, just south of John to take a few photos of "The Tudor House." The layout is similar but it is shorter than what I envision building. Beautiful as well. That front yard would be a great place for a garden.

This idea of the shared front yard has been implemented as a backyard on another site further down 14th, at Olive (across the street from the hated, by me at least, Cite Jardin). While the front of the building is awfully plain, the backyard is actually kid-friendly (in the city!).

Another building which I've liked since I moved over here is at the corner of 16th and Harrison. It's actually an F-shape but has a wonderful open space right on the corner. There are fewer entrances than in the first two buildings so I doubt it spurs as much interaction, but I think with a low fence (and I stress low) it could be another good location for gardening or kids.

In closing, does anyone know what's up with this house? I call it the Fight Club house out of admiration. It is on 16th between Thomas and Harrison.

Submitted Op-Ed

2008-04-30T21:53:00.000-07:00

In response to the front page story in the Seattle Times today, I sent in this short essay. I doubt they will publish it (I've had better luck with the P-I) but I thought I'd share it here.

Vlad Oustimovich, the architect who called the new townhouses constructed on the “green crescent” in West Seattle, “vanilla and cookie-cutter,” has a better chance of being elected to public office that I; my description of typical Seattle townhouse developments would be more like “soulless, reactionary relics of suburbia that are invading our city.” I’ve been exercising a lot recently, trying to relax and tone down the rhetoric, but in the meantime, I’m directing these words toward the developers that build these monstrosities and attempting to organize people like myself, whom would like a townhouse, but would never set foot in one of these.

Rather than hoping that the Department of Planning and Development will close loopholes that allow micropermitting, passively venting on neighborhood blogs, and wondering why our city council and mayor thought it was a good idea to relax environmental review regulations, I am proposing that potential homebuyers come together and try to build “green” multifamily housing that fits into the existing neighborhoods (or, even better, coexists and challenges the neighborhood to evolve). This idea isn’t new; collectives and cooperatives have been around for a long time and operate on the philosophy that group action as more effective than individual attempts.

I also envision a development as better housing and a social statement. I believe that forming a community in advance could lead to a stronger community post-occupancy. The way that like-minded people come together, out of the blue, on the internet to form virtual communities, is exactly the organizing principle for which I am striving. Ideally, in the real world, the design of the development would continue to encourage interaction between the residents via shared walkways and patios, low fences, and possibly a p-patch garden (fueled by an onsite composting bin) as part of the open space requirement. The intention is a small, practical, and progressive community that functions harmoniously internally and externally (not to be confused with a secluded living-off-the-land utopia). Oh, and this development would be within walking distance of transit and many of the urban amenities to which we city-folk have grown accustomed (grocery store, coffee shops, restaurants, and maybe even a school in a perfect world).

And, as if this reorganization of a single residential development weren’t enough, the next step would be to form a nonprofit organization to help other groups of people with similar interests organize, design, and build their own living spaces.
This may all be impossible; the traditional process of finding a place that one does not like because of its aesthetics, location, price, etc. may be here to stay. However, I prefer Royal Tenenbaum’s approach to life, where one decides to “mix it up” a little. He meant throwing water balloons at cars (which, come to think of it, I support) and hitching free rides on fire engines; I mean trying alternatives that could ultimately lead to more livable and “green” neighborhoods.

A Few Changes

2008-04-25T15:29:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the first month of existence, the Green Housing Collaborative is going to implement a few changes. First, the focus on housing is going to be expanded to include other societal elements that pertain to sustainability, such as consumerism, land use, energy, and transportation. I realize there are already myriad blogs out there (see sidebar for a few) that address these issues, but the intent is to contribute to the dialogue and to build a more extensive online community (or, attract more readers) that can hopefully translate into a real life green housing project.

Another idea that comes to mind is finding ways to push for more interaction on the site. I realize that a blog is really a one-to-many information system when what I really envision is a many-to-many system (hence the name collaborative). I'm thinking a transformation to a wiki site may be a way to facilitate this interaction.

I'm also curious about virtual environments and collaborative design programs. I've read that some of these exist but am not familiar with them. I'm thinking of some sort of software where I could 'sketch' a floorplan, then you #1 could modify it, then you #2 could add and subtract from it: kind of like a whiteboard in a design meeting. I'll be looking into this; any recommendations would be appreciated.

In staying true to this new format, I offer you a picture of a sign outside of the downtown Banana Republic.

It reads, "Shop April 22-27 and we'll donate 1% of our sales, up to $100,000, to The Trust For Public Land. This Earth Week initiative is the first step towards our $1 million commitment to The Trust For Public Land." An article on the Banana Republic website highlights their environmental efforts.

While they were the only store I saw in the downtown retail district that was advertising anything green, I couldn't help but wonder where their garments are manufactured. Needless to say, a quick walk through the men's store confirmed my suspicions with those oh-so-common words "Made in China." True, that's unfortunately the contemporary standard but I think a real commitment to "Greener Cities," or a greener planet, would involve reducing trans-oceanic shipping. It's a shame that American Apparel doesn't make clothes for the business casual set.

What is a Co-op?

2008-04-22T12:34:00.000-07:00

“What is a Co-op? Isn’t that like a big house where a bunch of hippies live and share a kitchen and grow their own food? That’s what they were like in Austin.”

So went a conversation I had last night with a friend from Texas; if you’ve ever seen the (great) movie Slacker, you probably understand why he had this impression. Nevertheless, he’s a smart guy and his question reaffirmed a suspicion I’ve had for a few weeks, especially after visiting a few downtown banks (WaMu, Wells Fargo, Bank of America) to ask about financing to buy a co-op unit: many people just don’t know what they are because they aren’t that popular in Seattle.

My friend’s wife, who had lived in NYC, knew what a co-op was. Coincidentally, the big banks, and even Countrywide, only make share loans (the type of loan needed to buy in to a co-op) in New York and New Jersey, where this type of housing is more prevalent.

So, to answer my friend’s question, yes, a bunch of hippies/artists/students/slackers or lawyers/scientists/stock brokers/politicians, or any mix of people with varying professions can inhabit a co-op. The only differences that I can see are the legal technicalities and possibly the attitudes toward “community” of the residents. By the latter, I mean to say there is a social element of cooperative housing. The degree of participation is variable and depends on the development but, as I understand it, is typically more than in your typical condo building or townhouse complex.

The reason I’m drawn to the co-op arrangement is twofold: I think it would be a way to finance the construction (pool our money) and, secondly, I like the idea of a more interactive community. As previously stated, I intend to spend some time with co-op residents (I know of three buildings near my apartment) so that I can make a better comparison between their living arrangements and mine.

Do you have any questions for one of these “hippies”?

Medhane Alem

2008-04-17T21:57:00.000-07:00

The neighborhood church I wrote about before was reported sold today on The Stranger's blog. I'll be curious to see what comes of the property.

In the Family

2008-04-13T21:30:00.000-07:00

My maternal grandmother's cousin and her husband bought this house in Fremont right after World War II. It's immediately north of 36th on 1st Ave. NW (about 50 yards from the Tacos Guaymas that is soon to be housing - the lot immediately left of the NW on The Stranger's map is their house). They have recently moved to retirement housing and their sons are looking to sell the house.

The area is zoned L2 and the lot is 6000 sq. ft. The development across the street is four green townhouses built on a 5000 sq ft. lot. Only of these units is still for sale; it is a 2 bed, 2.5 bath, with a 1 car garage for a cool $480,000. Reactionary architecture and ridiculous price aside, I think this is an okay development. I'd really love to put something beautiful across the street from it though...

According to the density requirements, I believe 5 units could be built but 4 may be optimum. The 4-plex immediately north sits comfortably on its lot and has a small yard out front.

There is an issue with improving the alley behind the property that has kept other developers away. My relatives are researching their options but it gives me some time to try and organize. Let me know if this is interesting to you. I may start exploring more traditional development options since I have this opportunity in front of me.

Brainstorming Session

2008-04-06T21:45:00.000-07:00

Late saturday afternoon I met up with a fellow from Chicago who had contacted me about this project. Stephen was in town, apartment-hunting for a possible move to Seattle. Though his decision to move isn't final, he has some experience with collectives, and was kind enough to help me organize some ideas over a few beers at The Hopvine.

Some criteria that we (well really, he) came up with as aspects of an intentional community are:

Economy
Qualification
Purpose/Mission
Size and Composition
Association
Leadership

Since communities can organize in ways that range from left field (commune/monastery) to right field (typical condo association/suburban neighborhood association), we felt that it was important to orient ourselves within the context of these two extremes.

For example, let's take economy. We could call a hypothetical commune an internal economy since it could be totally self-sufficient. Members could garden and scavenge for food; they could sell artisan wares to bring in some money. The opposite of this would be the external economy of a typical condo building. Everyone, except for maybe a manager, works outside the building. They all pay their monthly dues to the association to take care of building maintenance, etc.

Our vision of what this project could be like were similar and we both agreed that organizing the community of people before embarking on the construction process was crucial for philosophical reasons as well as practical.

A quick synopsis of our nascent vision is as follows:

Economy: Mostly external with an internal component. By this I mean that everyone would likely have some sort of external income, except for possibly a manager, but would also actively participate in the community.

Qualification: I believe Stephen stated a major part of this best when he said "eco-goal compatibility." Goals that would likely be ubiquitous: recycling, composting, eating local when it's "best" (see Avoiding the Local Trap here), minimal reliance on cars, etc. Of course, the degree to which people share goals would differ, but would typically reinforce eachother. Other qualifications such as tolerance and desire to strengthen the community at various scales (development, neighborhood, city, etc.) would likely be shared.

Purpose/Mission: In today's buzzwords, to live with a smaller ecological footprint. We also considered the possibility of helping to spread the word. Attending events like the upcoming Green Festival, blogging, attending events/readings or any other form of public outreach would qualify.

Size and Composition: Regarding size, I see this project starting as a discrete unit but welcoming the possibilty of expansion, whether it be physically manifested or ideologically; whether we built more units on an adjacent lot or shared our gained expertise with a group of individuals in Austin. By composition we mean that it must be decided whether members have to occupy a unit in the development or if they can be included by association (the Phinney Eco-Village, I believe, functions by association).

Association: How much time would we spend together? Less than a commune but more than condo building is the easy answer. Are we going to be a little sphere that neglects every "typical" development around us? I hope not. The growth of community on scales beyond our legal boundary would likely be in our best interest.

Leadership: Democratic, basically. Electing a board would be a way to focus everyday decisions to a group that wanted increased responsibilty while larger decisions would include everyone. Similar to a typical condo board.

These ideas are all conceptual but I believe they encompass what I/we have in mind. I'm searching for middle-ground where we can move forward, ahead of the curve, be a living example, but not come off as extremists. Is that possible?

Know a Co-op Resident?

2008-04-03T19:53:00.000-07:00

If so, could you point them my way?

I'm looking to meet some people who have lived in a cooperative so that I can get some insider information. My wife and I took a look at a unit inside the Lorington Co-op, on 11th and Denny, this afternoon and several of the residents were congregating for a board meeting. They were all friendly and the real estate agent told us that they actually hang out together at times. I know he's a real estate agent, and it's his job to make the place sound appealing, but I believed him. I'm going to try and contact the board and see if they can give some testimonials about how co-op living differs from standard arrangements.

In planning news: a gentleman from Chicago who is relocating to Seattle will be in town this weekend. We're going to meet up on Saturday and bounce around some ideas about this project. If anyone else out there is interested, let me know, and we can get a bigger table.

Central District Green Development

2008-03-30T18:52:00.000-07:00

On a tip from Sorin, a visitor to this site, I took a bike ride down to 1411 E. Fir Street to check out a green townhouse development. The Seattle P-I has a write-up on the development in its blog section that shows some interior photos and goes into detail about its green features.

Sorin was especially interested in the layout of the complex and how it encouraged interaction between the residents. The shared boardwalk, the glass sliding doors, and low fences surely contribute to community building.

I was also happy to see a P-patch at the corner of 14th and Fir. I don't know anything about the development behind it (yet) but it got me to thinking of using the open space in a townhouse development as a place to garden.

New Link

2008-03-27T22:13:00.000-07:00

I just added a link to the The Seattle Condo Blog over on the sidebar. Though they exist for an entirely different reason than this site, I thought it may be of interest to people that find their way to this site. I just came across it a few minutes ago and am always interested in sites that focus on the built environment.

13th and Olive Redux

2008-03-26T22:32:00.000-07:00

Okay, my level of expertise with the King County Parcel Viewer and Property Report led me astray last night. I didn't believe that the Medhame Alem property was only 4800 square feet but I couldn't verify that hunch. I have since realized that there are three adjacent parcels and obtained the area of each, for a grand total of 15,360 sq. ft. At the L3 max zoning density of 12 units/9600 sq ft., that would yield a maximum of 19 units on the property.

However, L3 zoning requires that only 50% of the area can be covered. According to my numbers, that means seventeen three-bedroom units could potentially be built (and still receive the maximum point bonus from LEED) if the area was spread over all three stories (430 sq ft. footprint). That seems like it would be unorthodox architecture but when you look at the (rough) dollar figures, it is appealing.

If we are still assuming that the property would sell for $1.8 million, that gets us down to around $106,000 per unit, just for the property which is, in my book, much more plausible. Of course the programming could be rearranged for some two-bedroom units and larger footprints could be acommodated; the number would fluctuate, but at least it's within the realm of reality. After reading through the NAHC's website, it seems that the purchase of the land is one of the biggest hurdles and most important first steps.

I apolgize for my previous error and pessimism. I have two deadlines next Friday at work and my brain has been fried.

East Olive

2008-03-25T20:26:00.000-07:00

**UPDATE - FOR EVERYONE FOLLOWING THE CAPTOL HILL SEATTLE LINK, THIS WAS JUST AN IDEA I HAD FOR THE PROPERTY. I DON'T KNOW WHO BOUGHT THE CHURCH OR WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THE PROPERTY. Please feel free to look around this site though. Thanks!**

Take a walk up Olive, just East of 12th Avenue and you will come across two sites that pique my interest.

At the corner of 13th, to your left, you will find a beautiful old church building, home to Medhame Alem Evangelical Church. I used to just walk past and note its classy architecture and continue up the hill. However, within the past few weeks "For Sale" signs have been posted at both ends of their property, which extends along Olive to 14th Avenue.

You can't see it in these pictures, but one of the signs says it's a great location for a church, condos, or townhouses. Being a fan of "old brick buildings" and a resident of Capitol Hill, I have mixed feelings about these prospects.

Part of me thinks that the building should be preserved as is; another part, the pessimistic part, just knows that some developer is going to level it and put in more reactionary, overpriced condos (this attitude is ubiquitous in my neighborhood; it is arguably warranted); and the last part of me, the enterprising part, thinks this would be a great place for the type of project I'm talking about pursuing.

According the King County, they paid almost $1.3 million for this property in 2002. I don't know what that translates to in today's dollars but I know it's a lot. As you can see by the sign, it is already zoned L3, which would allow for six units, up to three stories in height, to be built on the property. Unfortunately, if you assume the property is worth $1.8 million now and divide that out over six households, you get $300,000 per household for only the land. Back to the drawing board, I guess.

If you cross 14th and look to your left, you will see Cite Jardin. It fits into what Lawrence Cheek calls "The Townhouse Scourge"(and may actually be the same project that is photographed in the article). The only redeeming qualities I see in this development are the added density to the neighborhood and the landscaping. As for aesthetics, originality, or advertised sustainable features, I can't say anything positive. I know there are eleven units in the development but I haven't found out much else (what the property is zoned, the density of the development, or how much each unit cost to buy).

I'll keep my eye on this block but pessimism is taking hold. Hopefully I'm wrong.

Info on Cooperative Housing

2008-03-24T13:38:00.000-07:00

Starting a New Co-op from the National Association of Housing Cooperatives (NAHC).

Green Housing Collaborative

2008-03-23T13:09:00.000-07:00

I figure to make this official a manifesto is warranted:

In response to the dearth of affordable, green, multi-family housing in Seattle, I have decided that we should band together and try to build some ourselves. My wife and I would love a small townhouse, maybe 2BR/1.5BA, close to all the amenities that we have grown accustomed to living in lower QA and Capitol Hill (grocery store, drug store, restaurants, video rental, coffee shop, etc), near a park, a short walk to transit, and so on. While this living arrangement is inherently green (both increased density and site selection if you're at all familiar with LEED), I would prefer to build residences with as many other green features as possible (continuous hot water circulation, low flow appliances, fluorescent lighting, recycled materials, reclaimed water for non-potable uses, etc).

Of course, money is an issue, as it always is. I'm hoping that by pooling our resources (money) and time (for those interested parties) we can cut out the developers that are only in to construction for the financial gains. I'm hoping that we can create a place where we want to live, that fits within a neighborhood rather than plowing over it. I believe that a co-op would be the best way to reach this goal.

What is a co-op, you ask? Well, it's similar to a nonprofit that owns a building and each member has the right to occupy a unit. An added advantage is that the co-op has to approve of new residents. I know that sounds discriminatory but it would keep the character of community intact (green, urban, accepting, etc.).

I've created this site as a place for interested parties to interact and share ideas. Maybe there are enough people to pursue a single project as I mentioned above or something completely different (smaller units, no kids, shared food or gardening, etc.). I'm a structural engineer and a LEED Accredited Professional; I know an architect that works with other progressive architects/developers and am acquainted with several developers that I may be able to solicit for advice. So please, post comments, exchange ideas, and let's try to see what we can accomplish.