Oh My Soul
Does a city have a soul? Or maybe the better question is does a city need a soul to thrive? By appearances, the argument over how cities and neighborhoods should be designed has been won by the New Urbanism school of thought. This philosophy espouses dense, mixed use development that promotes neighborhood walkability and proximity to alternative forms of transport. While experts might set the bar high for achieving actual New Urbanism status, the influence and acceptance of New Urbanism principles is widespread. The debate among planners has now shifted to whether the application of New Urbanism principles is enough to germinate a vibrant, thriving community. The modus operandi of enlightened developers in recent years has been to tear down supposedly lifeless suburban-style buildings and replace them with architecturally meaningful structures designed to replicate the appearance of beloved timeless urban neighborhoods. The construction of the buildings seems to be the end in itself, with the rise of communal spirit a presumed product of superior design. The resulting neighborhoods don't always come to life as planned, leaving writers, Paul Grenier and Timothy Patitsas, to ask:
Why is it that despite all this well-financed New Urbanism, we still have practically no cities in the United States that rival in their humanity even an average small town in Mexico or Macedonia, to say nothing of a Paris or a Prague? Why is it that the more money we throw at building 'traditional' new 'developments', the more banal and pointless they become?
Grenier and Patitsas believe that newly built neighborhoods lack the “spirit of the liturgy,” meaning the teachings of thinkers like Jane Jacobs have been interpreted literally and without context, often times ignoring the history and culture of an area. While some may be uncomfortable with their heavy use of religious analogy, Grenier and Patitsas inject a sorely needed appreciation of the value of time and the transformative gift of urban spaces into the discussion about urban development.
While Grenier and Patitsas fixate on the emptiness of a New Urbanist development in Rockville, Maryland, and praise the virtue of the prior stereotypical suburban strip mall that it replaced, I choose, instead, to worry about the Seattle that my family and I visited this weekend. Seattle has endured an explosive building boom over the past 20 years. The insatiable demand for real estate has chewed up the past, sanitizing funky neighborhoods like Fremont and Columbia City, and creating new neighborhoods like Belltown from whole cloth. This market driven development, even when it purports to create human-scaled communities, does not slow to incorporate the irreplaceable diversity of human interaction fostered in particular location only over long periods of time. The resulting environment is superficially pleasing and tailored for the immediate satisfaction of the wealthy. Grenier and Patitsas offer this damning indictment:
In America, a good city, like good bread, is considered a luxury whose enjoyment is a necessity only for the virtuous, in other words, for the wealthy. It is not considered necessary for the poor to be allowed to be human.
In a soulful city or community, however, “the spiritually rejuvenating patterns - architectural beauty, running water, small shops and tall Cathedrals, enduring human relationships, diverse streets to walk on - are a free resource and are open to all.”
Many would argue that, all class arguments aside, Seattle’s boom has been a bonanza for the whole city and the goals of Grenier and Patitsas are too ethereal for practice. That may be the case, but shame on us if we knowingly ignore the growing vacuousness of our cities without at least attempting to better understand and design for the true needs of all who live in our communities.