When I was working my way through college I had a part-time gig delivering phone books. In that line of work you got paid by the pound so it made the most sense to deliver to as many apartment buildings as you could.
A lot of apartment buildings are dreary places – long corridors of identical doors and windows. But I came across one complex that was different. The walkways meandered. Every entryway was offset so that it didn’t stare directly into its neighbor. The place had a great “feeling.”
Ever since that time I’ve been fascinated by the way structure influences our emotions and behaviors.
Looking for the Good Place
Real estate economist Richard Barkham takes a stab at defining what makes a city feel like it has life in his post 10 Things that Make a Place. Barkham things like Safety and Security, Hearth and Home, all the way to Gobsmacking Buildings.
In summary his list looks something like this:
- Security
Housing
Business
Dining
Welcoming
Parks and public spaces
Shopping
Culture
Urban design
Architecture
These are undoubtedly crucial characteristics of a good city. But I don’t think they are the essential ingredients.
For instance look at the shopping malls of the 60s and 70s or the outlet malls of the 90s. These structures do indeed draw people to cities but they don’t contribute to life in the city as a whole. In fact, mega-shopping can lead to parking issues and contribute to a sense of “deadness” in the surrounding areas.
For a Place to Feel Alive It Must Be Alive
Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody, only because, and only when, they are created by everybody – Jane Jacobs.
Urbanist Jane Jacobs saw the city not as a collection of buildings, but as a vast ecosystem that was itself alive. She saw that there are lifecycles within the neighborhoods of cities.
Think about a hotel in an upscale neighborhood in the 1920s. By the 1930s and 40s the hotel starts to show its age and declines in popularity. If the hotel is not demolished this lack of popularity can be an asset to a neighborhood in decline – now it becomes affordable housing. Over time the value of the building increases because now it has a sense of “charm” that is absent in newer buildings.
Much of what makes a city feel alive comes not simply from the elements on Barkham’s list but from the intersections between them. Business, dining and culture are richer experiences when they overlap.
Patterns of Life in Cities
Architect Christopher Alexander and colleagues did an exhaustive study of cities and places that “feel alive.” The result is a book A Pattern Language that is composed of 253 “design patterns” that work together to create vital structures that support every human activity.
The patterns have functional names such as “House Cluster,” “Cascade of Roofs” and “Beer Halls.” They interlock and work together. For instance the pattern “Web of Shopping” reinforces “Mosaic of Subcultures,” and “Scattered Work,” ticking off three or four of the categories in Barkham’s list but doing so in a way that is natural, complex and interwoven.
Architecture critic Alexandra Lange wrote a great overview of A Pattern Language that you really should read if you’ve made it this far.
Where Am I Going with This?
For some time I’ve been interested in exploring and cataloging the parts of my hometown, Ventura, California, that I feel are alive. Ventura is a great example of a city that has unfolded over time. From the very first inhabitants, the Chumash, each generation has built upon the structures built by the generation before, and for the most part these structures are still visible, like the growth pattern of a tree.
Something changed, however, in the 1950s and 60s and the city stopped growing naturally. New developments were imposed on the landscape with an industrial focus on modernization and efficiency. I’ll be looking at these structures as well, looking at ways that modernism began creating structures that are not alive and doing damage to the city.
I’ll also be posting on Instagram and Facebook using the hashtag #LivingVentura.
Until then, see you around Ventura.
