Making the Possible Impossible

Update: Yesterday, I wrote this concerning the food fight between Anthony Bourdain and Paula Deen. This morning I awoke to an email from my mom chastising me for daring to speak ill of Ms. Deen. Poor Tony, I can only imagine what he’s been going through. Moving swiftly on…

"Never tell people how to do things. Tell them what to do and they will surprise you with their ingenuity." - Patton

As most of you know, the first of six Urban Design Challenge projects was unveiled this past week as the Dynamic Density team tackled the 700 Block of Market Street. This project was the first of two that will address the City Center. In November we will see the Frank & Taylor team set forth a vision for the Civic Forum Block. The Sky Farm project proposed by Dynamic Density was inspirational (and impressive considering their time constraint). Similarly, I anticipate that Frank & Taylor will acquit themselves well on their site. These exercises invite the community to take a hard look at our current state while challenging us to dream about what we could be.

Dynamic Density's Sky Farm

Since I have been in Chattanooga, there has been a lingering question concerning how the Center City can be enlivened. If you run down the checklist of health points, the district seems to be great shape: it is the densest part of downtown, there are a wide range of uses, it has open space, it has a residential component and it has arguably the best designed public realm in the city. None of those facts seem to dispel the notion that the Center City is simply the space between the Riverfront district and the Southside.

Part of the problem is scale. If you were to take the residences, restaurants and bars of the Center City and put them anywhere else in the city, it would be the hottest place around. I would wager that the sheer numbers of restaurants, bars and residences of Main Street is less than what can be found in the Center City. Yet the Center City is seen as boring and Main Street as the happening place in town. The district is so dense and the buildings are so large it just feels like there should be more there there.

The solution to the problem of how to enliven the Center City is deceptively simple. The solution is more. Existing buildings and storefronts need to do more. We need more residential units in upper floors of existing buildings, we need more bars, we need more restaurants, and we need more retail. More, more, more. To be sure, that “more” needs to comprise healthy ingredients, but need not be anything exotic. The first step in the journey is to increase the residential base of the area. The easiest way to do that is to encourage the adaptive reuse of existing buildings. The sure way to make real and lasting progress toward the goal of enlivening the Center City is to take a broad-based, incremental approach to infill. Although there are a few developable sites, the true opportunity lies in the myriad vacant, upper floors of our historic building stock.

The Center City is agressively programmed and
has a well-designed public realm.

Miller Plaza was completed in 1984. Almost 30 years later, why is there not more? A big problem is that the market is not being allowed to function properly. (Of course, The current malaise of the economy is definitely a factor, but if we were to wake up tomorrow and find that all the banks were fixed, credit markets were functioning and the national debt was gone, portions of our downtown development market would still be dysfunctional.) The problem is policy: our local, one-size-fits-all policy holds downtown and the ‘burbs to the same standard. That sounds fair, but those standards were the ones that created sub-urbs. In effect, downtown is being held to a foreign and more onerous standard than other portions of the city. The reason that downtown housing has been so pricy is a direct result of that fact. Developers have to charge more for their units to cover the additional costs of development caused by capricious parking, stormwater and sewer, and code policies. Please note, we’re not necessarily talking about laws or codes, we’re talking policies and interpretations that are currently being enforced.

I believe there are scores of current Chattanoogans that would love to live downtown if they could afford it. My belief is anecdotally supported by the incredibly strong rental market downtown. The notion is also supported by a consideration of the Southside and North Shore. These neighborhoods don’t get hammered the same way downtown does from a regulation standpoint- they’re primarily detached, single-family units that more closely fit the suburban model that the city favors. As a result, the houses cost less to build, have a more accessible price point, and have a lower vacancy rate than pricier downtown digs. I think you would find that many who live in these neighborhoods would actually prefer to live in the City Center if the money was right.

Again, the solution is simple (and it doesn’t involve grants, incentives or government spending). Governmental action, however, is needed. The community has to persuade our elected officials that the health of our urban areas is of utmost importance. Those officials then have to embrace that concept and adopt a development-friendly attitude. City staff then has to be empowered and encouraged to allow common-sense solutions to issues of urban development.

Unfortunately, there's not much building going on right now. The primary reason for this is to do with the cascading effects of poor global credit markets. Good news is that there are a number of local factors that we can put us in a position for growth when the possibility returns. Those solutions aren't difficult to implement, but require the full force of our civic will to overcome the inertia of the status quo.

Tangent: Food Fight

Please be advised that the main focus of this post has nothing to do with urban design, it’s just a quick Labor Day food-related rant. Please note that I’m going to work blue and some of the links are distasteful (sorry Mom). If you choose to read no further, you won’t be missing much. Don’t worry, I have a more focused urban design post coming tomorrow…

I find the overwhelming majority of TV food personalities insufferable. Despite the fact they are talking food, I find “I’m going to eat the grossest thing I can find” guy, douchebag 1, 2, 3*, and 4*, and  “Check Out My Décolletage” lady utterly unappetizing. There are some notable exceptions: I like Gordon Ramsay (but only his British shows, the American ones are crap), I have Mario’s autograph, and I like Anthony Bourdain. I’m somewhat tired of it by now, but once upon a time “No Reservations” was my favorite TV show.

In a recent TV guide article Bourdain was quoted as saying "The worst, most dangerous person to America is clearly Paula Deen. She revels in unholy connections with evil corporations and she's proud of the fact that her food is f---ing bad for you. If I were on at seven at night and loved by millions of people at every age, I would think twice before telling an already obese nation that it's OK to eat food that is killing us. Plus, her food sucks." To which Ms. Dean replied “You know, not everybody can afford to pay $58 for prime rib or $650 for a bottle of wine. My friends and I cook for regular families who worry about feeding their kids and paying the bills… In the last two years, my partners and I have fed more than 10 million hungry people by bringing meat to food banks.” FOOD FIGHT!!!  BTW, poor Tony has been raked over the F'ing coals over this one..incomprehensible.

Be Strong Tony!

I’ve got Tony’s back on this one. Read closely and you will find that Ms. Deen actually has no argument with the substance of what Bourdain said. Her response is to call him an elitist and then brag about her good deeds. If she is seriously concerned about the well-being of the needy, Ms. Deen should consider bringing vegetables and fruits to the food bank instead of meat. Is she arguing that using Krispy Kreme donuts as the bun for a lady’s brunch sandwich (and to drink, might I suggest the ’97 vintage Cheez Wiz) and deep frying mac and cheese and cheescake  are cost-effective ways for struggling American families to eat? I’m sure she does plenty of charity work, which is admirable. Helping poor people eat meat, however, does not make up for the awful example she is providing her millions of viewers.

"cause F--- your arteries, that's why!"

Food is a serious issue- globally, nationally, locally, any way you slice it. The industrialization of our nation’s food supply is well documented, as are the myriad problems it has spawned with a variety of human health concerns, environmental degradation, scarcity, etc. etc. etc. Clearly, the TV food people are self-aware and understand that they have a pulpit. How can one address the real food issues of “regular families” (nutrition, food deserts, obesity, scarcity, cost, long-term health) while instructing them how to fry lasagna?

Rant over. I’ll see yall tomorrow, back on topic and in a much better mood.

*Despite their Douchyness, Jamie and Tyler actually work on issues of nutrition and health, so hats off to them.

'Cane Warning

Congratulations to the kids from Cali. I love the Little League World Series. The action is riveting and the timing of the tournament signals the impending arrival of college football. I had a greater interest in the LLWS this year after spending a large portion of my summer coaching Spencer’s 5-6 year-old all-star team. One of my great joys in life is watching my son play sports. I love Spence, I love sports, Spence loves sports, it works out perfectly. One of the many things that I learned through sport, and that I’m trying to pass along, is that good technique and hard work are just as important as natural ability (and become more important as the level of competition increases). As with many other lessons learned in sport, this is equally transferable to other facets of life.

How 'bout them 'Canes!
Unfortunately, ironic mustaches and polyester
Bike coaches shorts are lost on five-year-olds.

Take for instance the act of writing. I am not a naturally gifted writer. I am, however, doing my best to compensate for that by working hard at it. That leaves technique as a variable that I can address to improve the quality of what I produce each week. In an effort to tackle that, I have returned to my long-forgotten copy of the little book: Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style*. After reading the book again for the first time in years, it became apparent that I’m doing worse than I originally thought. It’s clear that I have let myself succumb to the cutesy tone of blog writing and the referential style of hipster communication. Apologies to you all for butchering the language, I'll get better.

After the third or fourth time of reading, another thought dawned on me. The guiding concepts of this manual could just as easily be applied to design, planning or architecture. The book centers on the concept that a clear, concise statement is the most effective means of communication. In that respect, how is writing any different from planning or architecture? To highlight the similarity of the endeavors I have rewritten a passage from The Elements of Style (left) to address built design (right).

 
The content of the book is applicable across disciplines and the delivery of the message can be as well. This little book is powerful example of communication. The book highlights 7 usage rules, 11 principles of composition and highlights commonly misused words and expressions. My favorite part the book is the chapter entitled An Approach to Style- 21 straightforward statements about good writing. The task of writing can be complex, but these rules are simple. To contrast their style to the technique we use to write about how to design, I offer the following: on the left is a list of principles from the little book, on the right are principles from the Downtown Residential/Mixed Use District portion of our zoning code:

Forget the fact that the content of the zoning principles is misguided in places and dead wrong in others. Pay attention to the tone. The book examples give clear, positive statements about what good design is. The zoning language provides flaccid instructions on what should be done, and limp alternatives for those who can even be bothered to achieve the low standards. Beyond that, the zoning code (a set of design guidelines) is essentially a set of minimum requirements. The Elements of style focuses more on what to do than what not to do. Despite the fact that the ordinance codifies the mean, it requires no less than 220 pages to do so. The Elements of Style tackles a more complex subject in 85 half-sheet pages. Frighteningly enough, this portion of the zoning code is the only one that attempts to address good design in any way.

What we have created is a system that encourages lowest common denominator design. The new Downtown Overlay District promises more of the same type of thought. I suppose, however, that given the spate of crap that has cropped up in the past couple of years there is some value in establishing some kind of minimum standard. I have seen the names of the (large) board established to draft and enforce the new downtown design guidelines. There are some sharp ones among them- I hope they speak up. The group has inherent limitations since it is a political body that will be governed by political processes and by legislation of their own in-house creation. It is the responsibility of the rest of us to provide them with the political will to operate, and to advocate for good as they go about their work (eternal vigilance being the price of liberty, and all).

Nevertheless, we need to be asking for more than tricks to mitigate the next Buffalo Wild Wings. Is our aspiration to create a downtown that is free of poor building or one that is a shining example of excellence? Will we be content with making lists of things we don’t like, or will we continue to produce bold, positive visions for our future?

*I admit it was the reading of this article that skewered the book and its authors that rekindled my interest. Notice, however, that the author gives the book a pass on the style portion.

Nature v. Nurture

I. Not i, I. A single vertical mark. This is perhaps the simplest and most abstract way of graphically describing man in relation to their environment ( ---, a horizontal mark being an abstraction of the earth as we experience it). In addition to describing humans as they exist in space, we have historically used single vertical elements to mark positions of importance or to commemorate important events. Around the globe we find objects such as obelisks, steeples, totems, spires, stone monoliths and all manner of other elements used to express meaning. I suppose there is some innate connection between these verticals and man because we “need” to build them, and I think we enjoy looking at them. (I know there may also be some kind of phallic/fertility thing going on, but this ain’t that kind of party.) 

In his classic book, The Image of the City, Kevin Lynch outlined five elements that people consistently use to mentally map their environment: paths, edges, district, nodes and landmarks. He defined landmark as a readily identifiable object that serves as an external point of reference. In more common use, it is an element one would use while giving directions to someone. Vertical things, especially tall ones, more often than not, fall into the landmark category. Of course, this is  not to say that a landmark has to be vertical). Tall things can be seen from many directions and at distance, handy wayfinding attributes. Some of the most famous objects in the world fall into this category: the Empire State Building, the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the list goes on and on.

It occurred to me, however, that in our community our wayfinding and orientation points tend not to be these vertical elements. For these purposes we seem to use either a) a horizontal public spaces (Ross’s Landing, Miller Plaza, Coolidge Park, Fountain Square, Walnut Street Bridge, Riverwalk), or b) semi-public buildings whose primary character is more of mass than of height (Choo-Choo, Aquarium, Memorial Auditorium).

The issue is not that we lack vertical elements, nor is it in their distribution. Downtown is choc full of prominent, beautiful vertical elements: IMAX, Creative Discovery Museum, 1st Centenary Steeple, First Methodist Church Steeple, Dome Building, 17th Street Water Tower, and the 1st Baptist Church Steeple to name but a few. However, for some reason they don’t seem to be the elements by which we mentally map our city. If you look at these verticals, they are for the most part introverted things. They express themselves in an outward way, but they serve internal purposes. The places we tend to use for points of reference are very public places. Example: if you were on Georgia Avenue in front of the Courthouse, would you be more likely to say “I’m by Fountain Square” or “I’m by the old First Methodist Church Steeple”. I think most Chattanoogans would orient themselves more by the square than by the steeple, despite the fact that the steeple is far more prominent from a physical standpoint.

Is this guy by Fountain Square or
the old First Methodist Church Steeple?

Does this mean that there is an innate quality in Chattanoogans that predisposes us to think of our community in terms of public space? What a fantastic concept. I think this would explain an awful lot of things. When the Design Studio was still around, we would host groups from around the globe who came to see the city and learn from what our community accomplished. Invariably, a group would arrive looking for a “silver bullet” project they could export and replicate back home. Invariably, the group would leave with the understanding that our successes were not due a single project, but in our community process and attention to the public realm. The care we (used to) put into the planning and design of the public realm in downtown is on display for all to see.

I will admit that there exists the possibility that I’m full of it- maybe we don’t really see the city that way (but as another great Alabamian once said: I May Be Wrong, But I Doubt It). I believe that the community has a special quirk that makes us more sensitive to our shared public realm. Do we all share some genetic trait? Unlikely. If it's not genetic then it's a trait we have picked up from our environment. Perhaps there is something in the water or the pollen. Again, unlikely. So this trait must be something that we have learned. Hmm...I wonder how.

And so castles made of sand fall in the sea...eventually

Rushing Family Vacation 2011 is in the books. My hope was that during the week a couple of new posts would write themselves. That did not occur, but I developed several promising concepts. The week has taken its toll and I can’t seem to bring my thoughts to focus (it also doesn't help that I can't tear away from Radiohead performing King of Limbs in its entirety on Paladia...again). Therefore, it is with shame that I offer several short, unconnected thoughts as this week’s post (Hendrix references at no extra charge):

-I do not recommend going to the beach immediately following Shark Week.
-There is something strangely unsettling about hordes of Lacoste-clad, white folk lounging about on porches. (read: Seaside)
-I reject the widespread, anachronistic use of the medieval English typology of sandcastle. I believe that in the cathedrals of LeCorbusier (there are 3) and the works of Gaudi, sandcastles find their highest inspiration.

While playing in the sand I had this conversation with a kindly gentleman who happened by:
Kindly Gentleman: That’s a good-looking castle you have there.

Me: It’s Corbusier’s Eglise Saint-Pierre in Firminy-Vert. 

Kindly Gentleman: (pregnant pause)

Me: It’s a hyperbolic paraboloid.

Kindly Gentleman: …carry on.

Yeah, its a hyperbolic paraboloid. (and)
Spanish Castle Magic.

-While we’re doing the dialogue thing, the following exchange occurred more than once:
Me: Spence, when I was your age, none of this shi…none of this stuff was here. We stayed in these few little cabins (Sea Grove Villas) and the rest was forest for as far as the eye could see…
Spence: Yeah, you already said that.
Me: We spent our time fighting horse flies, having bottle-rocket fights and peeling shrimp for the grown-ups…
Spence: Right, did you get to play x-box?
Me: (pregnant pause)...just peel the shrimp Spence…

Oh, the difference 35 years make.

The primary driver of change between the Sea Grove of my youth and current day, was the development of Seaside. Seaside is the landmark town that put New Urbanism on the map. Reams have been written about the importance of the place, I have nothing to add. However, last week I promised to write about my latest impressions. Here goes.

I set aside one night of the vacation for some “me time”. After the family was tucked-in, I poured myself a stiff one, grabbed a cigar and stole off to the beach under the full moon. I was there for an hour and a half, but in reality it was a single moment, a single experience. I enjoyed the entire time, but it was just a snapshot. It reminded me of too many summer blockbuster movies that seemingly start with a stunningly beautiful image and contort the “plot” to justify its eventual display on the screen. When that moment arrives, it is indeed beautiful, but also seems a bit contrived and lacks depth.

While in Seaside I happened across a home
designed by my favorite architect.

I suppose that would be my latest impression of Seaside. Having been there a half-dozen times or so, I am no expert on the place. However, every trip there feels like Groundhog Day. Aside from some new-to-me food trucks on 30A, the place is exactly as I remember from previous visits. I do not find it to be fake or nefarious in any way, I actually quite like the place. However, there is an intangible quality of something not quite right, not quite “real”. Perhaps it’s the beach, perhaps it’s the lack of a non-tourist economic raison d'etre, perhaps the fact that the place has no history beyond 25-years. More likely it is my inability to wind down, relax and enjoy a place of slower pace. I will, however, readily concede that the critique of Seaside being cliché and staged is cliché and staged. Despite all of that, it is one my favorite places to visit.

Urban Exposure

By the time ya’ll read this, I will have already suffered my first sunburn and OD’ed on royal reds. Yes, the C.Rushings have made their triennial pilgrimage to the place of Rushing vacations past, Seagrove Beach, Florida. When I was a younster, our family would make the 3-hour expedition from Montgomery with the Turners and Voltzes to a virtually unpopulated Florida panhandle. Of course that all changed with Mr. Duany's New Urban masterpiece.  I fully expect that next week this space will be devoted to my renewed impressions of Seaside (a mere couple hundred yards from Sea Grove).

Royal Reds are not mere "shrimp" my friend.

This week, from the comfort of my satellite office on Cherry Street, I will offer thoughts on our city as a destination for so many other families as their vacation spot.

First, let me admit that I am uniquely unqualified to talk about this from personal experience. I never set foot in Chattanooga until I came for my first job interview. However, I will take a shot at describing what a person of my cohort would have encountered in their youth, and upon their return with a new family. In their youth this person would likely have seen Rock City, spent time at Ruby Falls, visited Point Park, and perhaps been treated to time at our civil war sites. On their return years later, they likely would take their family to those places, but with added excursions to the Aquarium, the Creative Discovery Museum, the Waterfront, the Riverwalk, and the parks and open spaces on the North Shore.

I will make every effort to talk to Spence about why Seaside is important and about why the way in which we build and inhabit our environment in important. I sincerely doubt that my descriptive capabilities will make an impression with him. However, I fully believe that being there with him, exposing him to an environment that has been excruciatingly designed to be dense, diverse, walkable and beautiful will make an impression on him. He will clearly lack the vocabulary and interest to want to talk about it, but he will have gained a sense that this is a different environment than the sub-urbs of say, Ringgold or Montgomery where he spends time with Grandparents on vacation. “Urban”, “dense”, “city”, “downtown” – these words will not carry the negative connotations for him as they did for me.


My first trip to the panhandle, and Big Luke's last.
(Before any of you hipster DBs ridicule the black socks,
recognize that at the same age you were going through
your 4th sophomore year and ironically swilling cheap
domestics, he was chasing Rommel's ass through the desert.
Show some respect.)

One can only hope that my contemporaries who bring their families back to Chattanooga will have similar experiences. The new generation of Chattanooga visitors will no doubt be entertained by our fantastic attractions on the mountain. When they visit downtown they will no doubt be entertained by our fantastic attractions, but they will also experience first-hand a dense, diverse, walkable and beautiful public realm. Will they fully grasp what they are experiencing, or develop the vocabulary of urbanism? Probably not. However, they will have what is hopefully an enjoyable experience in an urban environ. This is an experience that most southerners of my age did not have.

I recently read a piece suggesting that economic conditions and a surplus in condo inventory mean that little new development would happen in downtown for years. The piece went on to argue that governmental projects in North Chattanooga and Moccasin Bend were going to be essentially the only game running. I do not agree with either of those assertions, but for the sake of argument let’s say it’s true. Does this mean that we should continue to postpone our Community discourse on the future of downtown? Nay. In many respects it means that this is the crucial time to have that focus. While cities across the country get to take a breath after overbuilding for a decade, we should take this opportunity to focus on our future.

The concept that the only folks who want to live downtown are empty-nesters or skinny-jean-wearing hipsters is tired and played out. People across the country have been exposed to the benefits of urban places and aren’t afraid of them. As we continue into the future we are finding that more segments of the population in more stages of their lives are drawn to the amenities in urban areas. Every generation that gets to visit a vibrant, healthy urban environment only strengthens that. There may be some truth to the contention that the million-dollar condo market is overbuilt. However, that is just one market segment. The real challenge is to be able to provide a range of housing that makes it possible for anyone who wants to live downtown to do so. Of course, ‘round here there are those who would never dream of leaving the 'burbs (and that's fine). However, there is an ever growing number who have had positive experiences in the city and would love to live here if economics would permit.

I, for one, believe it will be a great waste if we spend the next few years waiting around to get ourselves involved in government projects. We should be taking this time to restart our community conversation, identify the gaps we have downtown, and put together partnerships to address those concerns. Oh, by the way, this is something we've done before.

ParenthesesPalooza

Last week was everything it promised to be and more. Christianmas was great and the kickoff for the Urban Design Challenge was better. A standing room only crowd got to hear Alex Kreiger deliver a brief history of urbanism in America before outlining the indicators of healthy urban places. I wrote about my primary impression of his talk for Chattarati. As I mentioned in that piece, his talk was incredibly dense (not Hamilton County School Board Member dense, but packed with meaning). I will use this space (my own little corner of the virtual universe) to talk about another issue he brought up.

As Alex was talking about investing in culture as the fifth of his eight indicators of city center health, he flashed a slide of Der Graben in Vienna. Vienna is famous for its historic architecture and efforts in preservation (what, with the Bundesdenkmalamt and all). The next slide, however, was a counterpoint to a city of hoary 200 year old buildings- steel and glass contortions by the likes of Hans Hollein* and Coop Himmelb(l)au (pronounced co-op, not as in chicken (I bullshit you not, those guys are badass enough drop some parentheses within their firm name)) (while we’re doing the parenthetical thing, you will also notice that both of those firms painfully reinforce the stereotype of architecture firms with awful and impenetrable websites (However, if you manage to make it through to the “recent work” (aktuelle Projekte) section of either website, your eyes will be melted by sheer and unadulterated genius (said the man with precious little genius and awful, impenetrable website))).

Vienna. Rocks.

The point Alex was making is that celebrating and preserving our shared history is important. Being stewards of our inherited built environment is important. But it is also important for us to celebrate the present and aspire to the future. We should take chances, innovate and experiment with new technologies. Many are quick to dis (and rightly so) the modernist expression in most American urban renewal projects. But lest we forget, once upon a time gothic cathedrals were “modern”, as were all of the classical orders, as were Vitruvius’ works and for that matter, anything that came after the cave.

Which of these is more likely to be built in our downtown?
Which of these would spark more discussion?

I have high hopes that the design teams participating in the Challenge will heed Alex’s plea to make the city a work of art. Yes, I realize that not all art has to be cutting edge (and not all architects put parentheses in their firm name). However, one of the jobs of an architect is to read the needs of his/her client and address them. In this case the client is the community. The need of the client is a reenergized civic discourse (not necessarily shovel-ready projects). I have full faith that the vanguard of the design community will rise to the Challenge.

Apology: I want to make a public apology to my great friend (and talented architect) Matt Winget. We mispronounced his name during the award presentation. As we all know, it is pronounced ‘Win-Jet’ not “Wing-It’ (although in some respects that may be a more apt description;)

*Seeing the image of the Haas-Haus immediately brought me back to second year architecture studio. Our professor made the mistake of bringing a geode to class and drawing the connection to the Hollein building. For the next 6 months (like lemmings) everyone in the class (including yours truly) took a shot at the geode metaphor (with disastrous results). Please, if you ever see me invoking the geode technique, slap me down.