The Justification for Civic Amenities

A loyal reader (it’s a required duty for younger sisters) recently emailed me with a question.  She provided a link to a National Public Radio story on the history of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis.  She asked my thoughts on the question posed by the article, whether a major amenity like the Gateway Arch justified the removal of 40 blocks of aging urban fabric.

I don’t know the entire history of the Gateway Arch, so my answer isn’t definitive.  But based on what I know, my answer is “almost assuredly not”.  Although that doesn’t mean that projects like the Gateway Arch are never justified.

How many people lived in the demolition area and the relocations that were forced upon them for the Gateway Arch are key variables in my answer.  The era of the Arch was also the era of Robert Moses.

And the era of Robert Moses was the era of large housing projects.  It was a time when we had convinced ourselves that “towers in the park” were a better housing solution for lower income people than the messy, urban streets on which they then lived.  Time proved that the idea was deeply flawed.  And the shortcomings were nowhere more evident than in St. Louis.

If the relocations required for the Gateway Arch resulted in projects like Pruitt-Igoe, then the Arch couldn’t have been justified.  Even if the neighborhoods that were removed for the Arch were raggedy and in need of work, they could never have been as poor a living situation as the projects of St. Louis quickly became.

This isn’t to deny that the Arch had value, both as a monument to civic spirit and as a tourist attraction.  Indeed, I rankle at the description in the article of the Arch as non-utilitarian.  Although some have more than others, virtually every public work has some utility, whether in providing a place to enjoy nature, attracting tourists, or carrying away sewage.  But it’s nearly impossible to argue that the value of the Arch could have exceeded the value of the neighborhoods lost.

But that doesn’t mean that projects like the Arch can never be justified.  Like so many decisions in the public realm, it’s a matter of benefit and cost.  Prepare cautious, reasonable estimates of the likely benefits, such as the ticket sales and increased tourism from the Gateway Arch.  Compare those to cautious, reasonable estimates of the cost of relocations, including the value of severed social capital.  And a benefit/cost decision can be made.  And some projects will be justified.  But probably not the Arch.

It’s much like the discussion of sports stadiums that I put forth a few months back.  Sports stadiums, and Gateway Arches, have value.  But proponents tend to exaggerate the benefits, which leads to poor decision-making.  And in the case of the Arch, I suspect that proponents, seduced by the “tower in the park” vision of housing projects, also underestimated the human costs.

Some may question how I can call for people to make the best decisions with the information at hand and also condemn the Gateway Arch relocations.  Weren’t the public housing projects of the time the best available concept?  Is there a difference between the conviction during the 1960s about the value of public housing and my arguments of today about urbanism?  Is it fair to condemn one in hindsight while promoting the other?

But there is a key difference between the “tower in the park” and urbanism.  The tower in the park was a wholly invented theory about how people should live.  According to Tom Wolfe, it began in an act of revulsion over the violence of World War I.  It had no basis in how people like to live.

On the other hand, urbanism is very much about people really do live.  It’s based in a look back as what land uses worked well, before we were sidetracked by the tower in the park and its successor theories.  And that’s a huge difference.

Is my Gateway Arch answer definitive?  Heck, no.  I’ve read little about the Arch, nor have I visited it.  I’ve never even set foot in Missouri.  But my sister asked an interesting question and I answered as best I could with the knowledge I have.  If someone has a more informed opinion, feel free to jump in.  I’m always willing to be educated.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

(Note: Photo is from the NPR article.)

A Shipping Container Pop-Up in Petaluma?

Pop-up retail businesses in urban settings and shipping containers for urban space are two growing trends.  Both, especially in combination, offer interesting possibilities for the North Bay.

Shipping containers are being increasingly used for retail and residential space.  Atlantic Cities writes about some of the applications.  In appropriate sites and with good site engineering, they can provide a quick and effective response to changing urban conditions.

Pop-up retail spaces, quickly installed stores often with a limited intended life, are frequently used to bridge the gap between e-commerce and brick-and-mortar stores.  Knowledge@Wharton offers a perspective on the philosophy behind pop-ups.  Atlantic Cities offers thoughts on the related concept of temporary cities.

Pop-ups can also be used to meet short-term social or neighborhood revitalization needs.  Several restaurateurs in Oklahoma City are setting up pop-up restaurants to feed the victims of the recent tornadoes and to raise relief funds.   And a string of pop-ups was recently used to kick-start a moribund commercial district in Oakland. 

The container and pop-up trends are separate and distinct.  But they can overlap in marvelous ways.  After devastating earthquakes struck Christchurch, New Zealand, Re:Start, a pop-up retail mall that made extensive use of containers was among the first businesses to begin serving the stricken town, restoring a sense of normalcy.  After a year, Re-Start remains in operation.

I found all of this interesting, but it didn’t seem pertinent to the North Bay.  Until I chanced upon a pop-up business in a shipping container and had my eyes opened.

It was in Carlsbad, a coastal community in northern San Diego County.  Carlsbad is largely comprised of vast ridgelines of stucco palaces, about which I’ll write another time.  But in the center of the car-centric sprawl is a downtown shopping district that somehow survives from another age.  And on a key downtown intersection is a pop-up waffle shop, Boxd, in a shipping container.

I stumbled across Boxd during recent travels.   My interest piqued, my traveling companion and I stopped for a mid-afternoon snack, a fresh waffle laden with peanut butter and strawberry preserves.  In exchange for the small purchase, I posed questions to the counter person.

The lot was owned for years by an elderly gentleman who didn’t have an intended use for it.  But he

 had a grudge against the city, so chose not to sell the lot to the city.  After his passing, the city was finally able to acquire the lot, but funds were too tight to create a new city park.

Instead, Boxd filled the void.  In exchange for a land lease, the waffle shop installed a container for a small restaurant, another container to serve as a downtown restroom, and enough tables and artificial turf to create an eating area.  With a few details such as old-style lamp posts, the site made an appealing addition to downtown.

According to the counter person, there was no significant obstruction from the brick-and-mortar stores in downtown.  Nor was the City building department a major hurdle, despite the unusual structure.  However, when I first spotted the business on the evening before my snack, an employee was on the roof installing a vent despite the business having been open almost a year.  So there seemed to be a least a few issues with shipping container approach.

The counter person didn’t know the term of the City lease.  However, I can see a use like Boxd being a land-banking operation.  It would allow a short-term productive and aesthetic use of a piece of property until economics can justify brick-and-mortar.

So, can Boxd provide a model for the North Bay?  My thoughts went immediately to the Petaluma Station Area.

As the Station Area plan is implemented, two potentially contradictory goals must be met.   First, multiple buildings must be constructed, requiring sequential staging throughout the Station Area.  Second, the rail passengers must be made to feel comfortable so their daily patterns become engrained.

It seems that a containerized pop-up coffee stand could help achieve the latter goal without getting in the way of the former.  The business could be a container or two that are moved to new locations in the Station Area as construction progresses and as the access routes of the train passengers evolve.

Perhaps the initial site for the containers would be close to the SMART station.  But as the initial buildings near construction, which would hopefully happen soon, the containers could be moved closer to D Street, a route by which many passengers will approach the station.  Later, as the length of Transverse Street nearest to the station is completed, perhaps another location for the containers can be found adjoining that alignment.

At this time, it’s a premature idea, but I think there’s worth in it.

Back to Boxd.  You may be wondering about my thoughts on the waffle.  It was fine, but I was surprised at how runny peanut butter becomes when enclosed in a fresh-from-the-griddle waffle.  The flavors were excellent, but the messiness factor was high.  If I again find myself in Carlsbad, I’d probably be more tempted by the pulled pork and slaw waffle.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Playing in the Street

I think it was the summer before my eighth grade year when my streetball days reached their zenith.

Many days, a handful of boys from our block would play a version of baseball.  Although the subdivision was only a few years old, there were no nearby parks.  The nearest ball diamond was in a schoolyard more than a mile away.  Too far away to gather enough players or to allow a break for lunch.

Instead, we claimed a dead-end street at the end of our block as our playing field.  The street would later be extended when the economy allowed more homes to be built, but that fact was beyond our understanding.  We only knew that we had a street stub that was suitable for a ballgame.

The stub wasn’t very long, perhaps only 100 feet.  So the infield was within the stub, but the outfield extended into the cross-street.  For weaker hitters, the outfielders would station themselves in the intersection.  For stronger hitters, they moved into the front yards across the street.

Even then, a well-struck ball would put windows at risk.  So the game we played was between two groups of younger boys.  The older boys, of whom I was one, played defense against both teams.  Which may sound boring, but we had fun.

My position was first base, which was a surprisingly key defensive station.  Behind me was a home with a little dog.  Whenever a ball got past me and into the yard, the dog would begin yipping.  The homeowner would come out, claiming that we were giving her dog a “heart attack”.  And if she got there first, she’d keep the ball, potentially ending our play for the day.  So it fell to me to block errant throws, ensuring that our game didn’t end prematurely.

Occasionally, cars would drive through our game.  We were good about getting out the way and motorists were good about waiting for us.  We shared the street well.

This brief and possibly uninteresting snippet of my youth was brought to mind when a local landscape architect and I discussed streetball over lunch a few weeks ago.  My friend is a half generation younger, but also had fond memories of playing ball in the street.

We noted that it has been at least a decade since either of us had stopped to wait for a ballgame to

 clear the street.

Furthermore, my friend described how his son had recently taken a pitching lesson.  The pitching coach had the son pitch from a driveway to a plate drawn on the asphalt on the other side of the street.  My friend watched the puzzled expressions of motorists as they slowed to watch the recreational use of the street.  For many, it may have been the first time that they saw ball playing in a street.

The disappearance of streetball is unfortunate.  And not just because of the absence of physical activity.

As my friend pointed out, playing without nearby adults teaches lessons about dispute resolution.  Deciding whether the ball beat the runner on a close play without an authority figure teaches negotiation skills.  It might also teach unfortunate lessons about the role of physical intimidation, but even those lessons are better learned early in life, especially if it means finding strategies for appropriate responses to be used later in life.

For my part, I noted that the playing in the street can lead to situations in which youths can learn to say no.  Looking back at my streetball experience, I recall days when it become too warm to play.  We’d often retreat to a home where both parents worked away from home.

One group would assemble in the living room to play sports-themed board games.  Another group would assemble in the garage for activities that involved airplane glue and incursions into the parental liquor supply.  You can probably guess which group I joined.

Later in life, particularly during my time as a Cal student in the early 1970s, I saw young adults who had learned to say no at an early age and were therefore less likely to make poor and life-altering decisions.  It was a skill that many wouldn’t have gained without the social situations that resulted from street play.

Why did streetball disappear?  There are probably numerous causes, starting with cable television, video games, the internet, and the fears of parents who, despite the evidence that crime has trended downward in our lifetimes, believe that streets have become more dangerous places.  There is also a growing belief of some drivers that they shouldn’t have to share the street.  The last is reprehensible.  The others are obstacles that can hopefully be overcome.

How does this topic relate to urbanism?  After all, my youthful history was in drivable suburbia.  But one need only remember the iconic photos of Willie Mays, as an exuberant young outfielder for the New York Giants, taking an at-bat in a Harlem stickball game to realize the streetball and other forms of play in the streets once had a strong presence in urban settings.

And street play can have a role in the success of urbanism.  Communities are energized when youth are outside playing, whether in the local street fronted by mixed-use or in nearby parks.  One is reminded of this fact by reading Jane Jacobs’ observations of daily life on Hudson Street.

And playing in the street as a youth lays the groundwork for being effective member of an urbanist community as adults.  A youngster who can organize a neighborhood for a pickup streetball game is likely to become an adult who can organize a neighborhood to improve a nearby park.

Nor am I alone in believing that in the value of play in the streets.  Atlantic Cities writes about a movement in Britain to give street play time to youths.  Transportation Alternatives documents similar projects in Harlem and the Bronx.  The only problem with these efforts is that parents were involved, both in negotiating street closures and in overseeing the play.

There is a role for parents in initiating outside play.  St. Louis Cardinals’ manager and former Giants catcher Mike Matheny recently wrote on that topic.  But the best life lessons are learned when the adults go back inside.

I don’t believe that we’ll ever have stickball in Soscol Avenue or Santa Rosa Boulevard, but I’d very much like to see a return of casual ball playing in lesser streets, in neighborhood parks, and in parking lots.  I’m unsure how to make it happen, but am sure that it’s a worthy goal, even if a few yippy dogs have “heart attacks.”

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Stretching Property Tax Dollars Through Urbanism

July 1 is approaching.  City halls throughout the North Bay are buzzing with the preparation of 2013-14 budgets.  The story is similar in most cities.  The worst of the recession seems to be in the rear view window and municipal revenues are increasing.  (Although a renewed economic decline, which remains possible, would be disastrous.)   More revenues can be directed to reserves that were at paltry levels and city halls can begin nibbling at the deferred maintenance backlog.

But much of the increased revenue will go not toward municipal services, but toward funding pension obligations and employee benefits.  An article in Petaluma Patch article explains the situation well.

(This isn’t going to be a diatribe on the pension and benefit situation.  Yes, guaranteed benefit plans were based on the belief that severe economic downturns were impossible, which was nonsense.  But it was a nonsense in which almost all elements of the political spectrum participated.  The packages were given to police, fire, and city hall staff with broad support of politicians and voters.  For myself, I was concerned, but didn’t see the full extent of the possible problem.  Nor did I speak out about my concern, so have forfeited my right to cast stones now.)

So, we have persistent and increasing urgent needs for municipal services, paired with budgets that are constrained and unlikely to improve for many years.   There aren’t many rays of hope in that scenario.

But there is one positive sign.  Smart Growth America chose this week to release their report “Building Better Budgets”.   The report is the first attempt to compile studies from across the nation comparing the financial results of urbanist versus conventional development.

(Note: New readers should know that I generally eschew use of the term “smart growth”, preferring “urbanism”.  I believe that urbanism is smart, but also believe that it’s hard to maintain a civil dialogue when defining the other person’s beliefs as “dumb”.  I won’t criticize Smart Growth America for their choice of name, but wouldn’t object if they changed it.)

As the report describes it, the benefits of urbanism to municipal bottom lines have been increasingly understood for years, but this report represents the first attempt to pull together all available studies into a single report.  A total of seventeen studies were considered, including a study of three relatively new projects in Nashville, Tennessee that was done specifically for the report.  The three Nashville projects covered the range of development options from urban infill to urbanist greenfield to conventional drivable suburban.

As the authors acknowledge, many of the studies were performed using different methodologies and terminologies.  They also acknowledge that not every study found budgetary benefits from urbanism.

But when the studies are adjusted to a similar basis and averaged, the results are clear.  Urbanism reduces the strain on city budgets.  Some sample numbers: Infrastructure costs 38 percent less per unit for urbanism projects, property tax revenue per acre is ten times greater, and the cost of emergency services is ten percent less.

Regular readers of this blog will note the similarity between this finding and the StrongTowns argument.  (For newer readers, StrongTowns contends that conventional suburban development doesn’t generate sufficient property tax revenue to maintain its infrastructure.  And that the absence of financial sustainability is an underlying cause of our current economic distress.  StrongTowns concludes that urbanism is an appropriate response to the problem.)

The authors of the Smart Growth America report were seemingly aware of the StrongTowns argument and were careful not to overpromise based on the study results.  They noted that it still wasn’t established that urbanist development would be financially sustainable, only that it was more likely to be.  It was a laudably cautious point that didn’t detract from the report.

If your schedule permits, you may also wish to listen to the on-line presentation of the report.  Of particular interest is the story of Alexandria, Virginia which made an early commitment to urbanism and weathered the bad economic times more easily that other Virginia communities.

Adopting urbanist policies and promoting urbanist growth won’t solve the current budget issues at North Bay city halls.  There are too many existing conventional subdivisions to be maintained.  But turning increasingly toward urbanism for new development will lessen the municipal budget problems of the next generation.  And that’s a worthwhile accomplishment by itself.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Downtown Plazas: The Petaluma Challenge

A few weeks ago, I wrote a pair of posts about urban public places in Petaluma.  I listed the downtown public places that were already in use or well into the planning stage, along with the most evident shortcoming of each.  I noted that downtowns are best supported by strings of public places that fill slightly different niches.  And I suggested that, with some remediation, Petaluma might have a fine set of downtown gathering places.

I went on to suggest that at least one more major park was required, a park that could rival the community value of Healdsburg Plaza or Sonoma Plaza.  I suggested that this missing park be built on a portion of the current fairgrounds site.  I proposed that this new park, which I’ll call Petaluma Square, be edged by businesses showcasing local agriculture, to support local agriculture and to recognize the history of the fairgrounds.

I also proposed that the area around Petaluma Square be filled by multi-family urban development to provide a base level of activity to the square, to which the remainder of the community could add.

Not surprisingly, I received a number of comments.  Most were positive, but some also raised topics that seemed worthy of further response.  My thoughts follow.

Make park bigger: Some thought that I was shortchanging the community by proposing only a square on the fairgrounds site.  They suggested that it would be better to use the entire fairgrounds for Petaluma’s equivalent to New York City’s Central Park.

I appreciate the passion, but disagree.  For one, I don’t know if Petaluma could make good use of a park of that size.  I know that park enthusiasts believe that communities can never have enough park space.  But when I look around the town, I see existing parks that are underused, with far more folks enjoying culture, dining, or shopping.  (The one exception is athletic fields.  Petaluma, like pretty much every community, can use more athletic fields.)

Also, there’s the adjacency issue.  The fairgrounds site is large, but not big enough to hide that it’s tucked between a car-oriented shopping center, a construction yard, and a school bus yard.  Central Park can sell the concept of a wilderness in the city.  I don’t think the fairgrounds site can do the same.

But the biggest issue is financial.  With a long era of government austerity looming before us, it seems a dubious strategy to take a piece of property than can generate significant economic activity and to redirect it to a use that would require government support.  About the only way to make the dollars work would be voter approval of a tax increase that would pay any compensation due to the Fair Board, fund the construction and operation of the park, and make up for the lost revenue from other possible uses of the site.  I doubt anyone believes that’s possible.

Perhaps Petaluma can support its version of Central Park, but if so, it needs to be on the urban fringe, not on a site that can contribute so crucially to the local economy.

Reduce adjacent development: Some thought the idea of the square was okay, but didn’t seen the need for the surrounding retail or residential uses.  They weren’t even sure that the community needed more residential or retail.

To the first comment, I can only point to the squares in Healdsburg and Sonoma.  Those places are energized by the surrounding development.  Petaluma Square without adjoining development would be another Walnut Park, a nice place but without the vibrancy that could be possible.

To the latter comment, the Petaluma General Plan envisions growth to 80,000 people.  Where better to house and to provide services for those new people than in a walkable urban core around an active square?

Make better use of existing parks: Some thought that I was undervaluing the current parks, particularly Walnut Park.

I disagree.  I think I objectively laid out the value and shortcomings of each existing public place.  Walnut Park is a fine setting, but with the development currently surrounding it, it can’t rival the squares of Healdsburg or Sonoma.

Plus, there is a need for a range of public places, with different community events distributed according to the needs of each event.  Healdsburg is finding that their square is becoming overused and is looking to relocate some events.  I can foresee a future in which Walnut Park and Petaluma Square each host a range of events and activities.

Wake us when the date is closer: However, the biggest single response was that my 2035 date for having Petaluma Square in place was impossibly far away.  Those commenters couldn’t see a reason to pay attention to the opportunity for ten or fifteen years.

To which I can only point out that the City and the Fair Board have indicated a willingness to negotiate the future of the fairgrounds this year.  For all we know, the negotiations may already be underway.

I think the urbanist energies of Petaluma should be directed toward the Station Area for the immediate future, which is how I derived the 2035 date for Petaluma Square.  But unless we offer our thoughts and our visions this year or next, the opportunity for Petaluma Square may go away.

It’s the nature of long-range planning for all land uses, but particularly for urbanism.  Sometimes we must plant the seeds for a crop that a future generation will harvest.

I believe in the vision of Petaluma Square.  But getting from today to the square will be a slog.  It’ll have long periods of inactivity, interspersed with opportunities to make key comments or offer crucial support.  And this year may be one of those opportunities.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Long-Range Planning Shouldn’t Be Overlooked

Cities and counties provide two levels of planning service.  They review land-use applications and they set the rules by which applications are to be judged.  To repeat an analogy I’ve used before, long-range planners define the strike zone and application-review planners are the umpires who judge the individual pitches.  (Of course, it’s developers who throw most of the pitches.)

I note the distinction because the long-range planning function is often overlooked by the general public.  If we think of recent North Bay planning controversies, most are about pending applications, not long-range planning issues.

I’m not saying that long-range planning never attracts attention.  I’ve heard stories about the tension before the 2003 adoption of the Central Petaluma Specific Plan.  And the OneBayArea plan has certainly attracted controversy.

But long-range planning hearings are usually attended only by planning junkies and a few folks with specific issues.  It’s land-use entitlement hearings that fire up entire neighborhoods and force city halls to accommodate overflow crowds.

And that’s a shame because much of the framework of our communities is set by long-range planning.  Land-use applications, even those that a large segment of a community find objectionable, are usually submitted in response to implicit encouragement in a long-range plan.

A Petaluma example illustrates my point.  The most cantankerous recent land-use process has been the review of the Draft EIR for the Red Barn project, a proposed single-family project at the western end of D Street.  Davidon Homes is the applicant.

Many opponents are infuriated that a developer would propose single-family homes on the site.  But only a few folks objected when the Petaluma General Plan was adopted in 2007 with a general plan designation of single-family for the site.  It seems a little ridiculous to accuse the developer of subverting the will of the community when the proposed land use was specifically envisioned in the General Plan.

(Those familiar with the Red Barn proposal will note the irony of referring to the 2007-2025 General Plan.  The Davidon proposal was deemed complete by the City in 2004 under the General Plan that was adopted in 1987.  But the project went quiet during the recession and has now resumed after the adoption of the new General Plan.  The question of which General Plan should be applied to the project has become a source of local controversy.

However, City legal staff has noted that it makes little difference as the two General Plans applied virtually the same standards to the Red Barn site.  The only difference is in the historic preservation standards.

And even though the Davidon project has been deemed complete, people could have still objected to the general plan designation on the Red Barn site during the General Plan process.  Few did so.)

There are numerous reasons why long-range planning usually doesn’t evoke the same level of awareness as entitlement planning.  For one, long range planning often sets forth scenarios that never come to fruition.  To become invested in the vision of a long-range plan is often to be disappointed.

And then there’s the problem of visualizing the future.  How many people can truly believe that a grand vision of the future will actually happen?  Fifteen years ago, how many Petalumans would have believed in Theatre Square?  Or today, how many believe that the parcels adjoining the SMART station will one day be filled with multi-story mixed-use?

It’s the same reason that flood control planning often occurs with little public notice.  On a sunny afternoon in May, it’s hard to conceive of a wintertime flood.  Which is why more of us end up filling sand bags than attending flood control hearings.

But the biggest reason that long-range planning is often undervalued is that it looks twenty or more years in the future.  Again using Red Barn as an example, the General Plan that set the standards by which the project was configured was adopted 26 years ago.  In a world where homeowners move every seven years and renters even more frequently, many of us have a hard time caring about our communities 26 years in the future.

Even mortality has a role.  Of the people currently living in a community, what percentage will still be living there 26 years from now?  Including relocation and mortality, perhaps 30 percent?  Most communities will have largely new populations in 26 years.

But none of those are valid reasons to overlook long-range planning.  Even if neither we nor our descendents will be living in our communities in 26 years, we owe it to the folks who will be living there to take long-range planning seriously.  To grasp the land-use issues that will define the 21st century and to be a part of creating a good direction.

I know that long-time readers won’t be surprised by these comments.  But I’ve recently read a few dismissive comments about planning horizons of twenty years or more.  It seemed a good time to offer a reminder about the value of maintaining a long perspective.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Historic Downtowns Needn’t Be Museums

Perhaps the most surprising discovery during my peripatetic spring was downtown Lodi.  I’d heard rumors that Lodi had a historical downtown with a good sprinkling of retail and restaurant activity, but I hadn’t expected to feel as immediately comfortable as I did.

The downtown is approximately two blocks wide by five blocks long, anchored by a railroad station on the east.  It also has a pair of entrance arches, one of which dates from 1907 making it truly historic.  The other arch is a more recent addition, but it a quiet elegance which complements the downtown.  (Pleasant Hill should take note.)

Nor I am the only one to be beguiled by downtown Lodi.  The San Francisco Chronicle recently lauded it.

And the town of Lodi is unusually well-configured to support a downtown, with a compact development pattern that puts much of the community within easy biking or walking range of downtown.  The downtown has reacted with popular retail, dining, and tasting room opportunities.

But there are potential shortcomings in downtown Lodi.  From observation and from an internet search, there are few residential or lodging opportunities in the downtown area.  Only three hotels are within the downtown core, all of which seem to be budget options.  For one, the only on-line review refers to bedbugs and the lack of fire escapes.  Without people who have money to spend residing or staying downtown, maintaining an active street life is difficult.

In many communities, an absence of needed downtown elements is a sign that the city is being

overly protective of its historical district, effectively placing a bell jar over it.  But there was a clear sign that Lodi is willing to allow downtown development.

Near the north end of downtown, N. School Street looks the same as the other downtown tree-lined street.  But at the corner of W. Elm is a surprise.  A contemporary multiplex cinema occupies the northwest corner.  It’s in an architecture style that offers only a nodding acknowledgement to the nearby buildings, but is sufficiently screened by the trees to be acceptable.

I won’t defend the architecture of the cinema.  I would have preferred different materials and a stronger acknowledgement of the historical downtown.  But if I assume that the city exacted the best architecture possible from the developer, then I’m willing to accept the cinema as better than non-development.

I hope that the cinema is a precursor to other downtown projects, perhaps more architecturally advanced projects, which will buttress what is already working in downtown Lodi.

Although my Lodi visit was brief (I didn’t want to get stuck there), it appeared that the city was reaching for the necessary triad of downtown urbanism: respect the past, acknowledge the present, and build for the future.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Trying Too Hard and Trying Too Little Are Both Flawed Approaches

I recently made a day trip to the East Bay.  My business required only a couple of hours, so I stretched my outing to look at the downtowns of Pleasant Hill and Pleasanton.  The choice of destinations, which was based a bit on logistical convenience and a bit on alphabetical proximity, was fortuitous because it illuminated two approaches to urbanist design.

In a conventional sense, Pleasant Hill doesn’t have a real downtown.  The town came into full existence during the era when strip malls and housing tracts were the development norm.   But a few years back, a developer tried to fill the void with Crescent Drive, a faux downtown near the center of the community.

The impulse was reasonable, but the execution missed the mark.  In an era when we’re rediscovering knowledge about how downtowns work, the lessons were ignored in Pleasant Hill.

There isn’t a residential component to add life to the streets.  Instead, the land uses closest to Crescent Drive are mostly parking lots for Crescent Drive shoppers.

Walkability is limited to the pedestrian routes between the parking lots and the shops.  Outside of Crescent Drive, much of the existing development is pedestrian unfriendly big boxes and strip malls.

What remains is attractive but generic architecture, banners describing the area as “downtown”,

and an arch above the entrance announcing “Pleasant Hill”.  I can be a fan of entrance arches.  When they look authentic, they create a warm feeling about the community.  But authenticity is hard to achieve in faux downtowns.  And, like the rest of Crescent Drive, it wasn’t successful here.

I sympathize with the problem faced by the developer.  It’s hard to create a downtown decades after the town came into existence.  But an incremental approach would have been better.  (Although I’ll acknowledge that financing would have been difficult.)  Crescent Drive feels like an attempt to be too much too soon.  Which resulted in a development that is little more than inadequate and quickly aging eye candy.

Pleasanton is on the other end of the scale.  It’s a marvelous downtown that clearly dates to the early days of the community.  The arch sign, even with the retrofitted neon tubing, feels authentic.  The storefronts are varied and interesting.  And the perfectly preserved filling station is guaranteed to evoke smiles.

But it seems that little beyond preservation has been done to make downtown vibrant.  It has an oddly linear configuration, only one street wide and about a half-mile long.  It may be the best location in the Bay Area for a small town parade, but it’s not convenient for pedestrians to explore, with the only route being up and down the same street.

The linear downtown reminded me how much I enjoy the North Bay cities like Sonoma, Santa Rosa, Healdsburg, Napa, and Petaluma that offer multiple routes for a downtown amble.

There are charming residential neighborhoods in Pleasanton, but they’re too far from downtown to be readily convenient on foot.  Nor does there seem to have been any effort to widen or to strengthen the downtown.  Underutilized parcels exist only a block away, but there was no evidence of an attempt to add residential to enliven the downtown or commercial to enhance the pedestrian experience.

I didn’t research the municipal planning documents to see if there was a vision that hadn’t yet reached the ground.  But my observation of downtown showed a place that was resting on the laurels that came from preservation and hadn’t yet grasped the problem of making the downtown truly vibrant.

Creating a functional downtown is a challenge that must be met with both enthusiasm and restraint.  Neither Pleasant Hill nor Pleasanton seems to have found the right balance.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Circling Back to a Good Idea Isn’t Trivial

During its early history, many criticized new urbanism as a mere recycling of old land-use ideas.  I never understood the disparagement.  Shouldn’t effective public policy mandate the use of good ideas regardless of the provenance?   Nonetheless, the recycling criticism seemed pertinent to many.

In recent years, I’ve heard the denigration less frequently.  Perhaps folks have begun to grasp the unjustness of the complaint.  Or perhaps I’m associating with a more thoughtful group of people.  But in case pockets of the resistance remain, let me enumerate my top three reasons why new urbanism shouldn’t be subject to the petty compliant of plagiarism.

First, new urbanism is a solution to more complex problems than were faced a century ago.  Although the results of new urbanism often look like the land uses of the early 20th century, the modern land-use issues being addressed have more facets.

The biggest single difference is the automobile.  Building a workable town center when most people will arrive on foot or by trolley is very different from building the same town center when most people will arrive with 3,000 pounds of metal, plastic, and glass that they expect to stash in a convenient location.  And that they can use to move to a different place if this place doesn’t hold their interest.

Nor is the automobile the only difference.  Technology has a multifarious impact on cities, from offering information on a range of different destinations for outings to encouraging people to stay home where they can enjoy electronic experiences.

Many people could have designed livable town centers in 1913.  It’s a different, and more complex, task in 2013.  That fact the a good town center in 2013 might look much like its 1913 counterpart speaks to how both meet a underlying human need, not a lack of originality.

Second, to return to a past idea and then to seek to improve upon it isn’t a simple or trivial task.  Indeed, it’s contrary to some primary impulses of group thinking.

Whether at government, business, or family levels, decision-makers often come in two forms, those who wish to constantly push onward to new and improved ideas and those who wish to cling to the comfortable ideas of the past.  To argue that a past concept was a good start, but still needs enhancement is to antagonize both groups.

Far from being a simple-minded regurgitation of the past, new urbanism has gained ground because it’s a good solution and because its proponents have been remarkably persuasive in overcoming institutional resistance.

Third and last, just because an idea was used previously doesn’t mean it was used optimally.  There are always opportunities to improve on the ideas of the past.  And to make them more truly our own possessions.

In the words of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, German writer, artist, and politician, “All truly wise thoughts have been thought already thousands of times; but to make them truly ours, we must think them over again honestly, till they take root in our personal experience."

So, while the new urbanism may have some similarities to the urbanism of a century ago, it’s a different and more evolved creation.  Anyone eager to disparage new urbanism as mere recycling is just plain wrong.  And you may tell them that Johann Wolfgang von Goethe says so.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Promoting Fine- Grained Neighborhoods

A large mixed-use project on the Oakland waterfront, Brooklyn Basin, was recently announced with great fanfare.  Politicians from Oakland Mayor Jean Quan to Governor Jerry Brown lauded the proposal, which will be built with extensive foreign capital.

Urbanists promptly weighed in with their thoughts on the plan, offering cogent analyses of the strengths and weaknesses.

I find myself holding an opinion that is contrary to both sides.  Regardless of the planning issues, regardless of the foreign capital, regardless of the jobs and economic activity that the project would create, I hope the project goes away.  My reason is that it’s a monolithic project.

Jane Jacobs argued that cities should be fine-grained, by which she meant that development should occur in small, discrete chunks, constructed by different developers for different uses using different architects at different times.  One of her primary arguments is that a neighborhood needs a supply of older buildings with lower rents to act as incubator space for new businesses.

There are other arguments that can be added to hers.  A friend recently wrote that he and his wife had chosen a fine-grained residential neighborhood (which usually means pre-World War II) because they hoped it would lead to a heterogeneous group of neighbors.  Their expectation was met.

I’ve often made the argument that a fine-grained neighborhood encourages reinvestment.  At a residential level, consider a homeowner who lives in a housing tract from the 2000s and who wishes to remodel his kitchen.  He’d better enjoy cooking because it’ll be hard to capture the value of a remodel when his resale competes directly with nearly identical homes up and down the street.

But put the homeowner in a fine-grained neighborhood where the homes are all different, and it will be easier to recapture the value of the remodel.  The fine-grained neighborhood encourages reinvestment and continual revitalization.

And now we have a further reason to support Jacobs’ theory.  Eric Jaffe of Atlantic Cities reports that Duke sociologist Katherine King studied Chicago neighborhoods to find if a fine-grained development pattern improved the social ties in the neighborhood.  Interestingly, she inverted my friend’s assumption about a fine-grained neighborhood leading to a heterogeneous group of residents.  She used age diversity as a proxy for fine-grained development.

King found what Jacobs would have expected fifty years ago.  Fine-grained development, as represented by age diversity, leads to stronger social ties.

Which brings us back to Brooklyn Basin.  I’m supportive of developing the site as a mixed-use project.  But under the current planning concept, I think the mostly likely results in fifty years are “gracefully aging but economically stagnant neighborhood” or “slum”.  Neither is acceptable.   But the uniform, undifferentiated nature of the plan will constrain the possibilities for adjusted visions and reinvestment as the project ages.   Plus it appears that it will also lack good social ties.

To me, the preferred fifty-year future is “economically active with constant reinvention and new uses”.  To achieve that goal under a single developer is difficult and unusual.  The better way to achieve it is to incorporate multiple developers.

There are large projects for a single developer is required to implement overall site planning or infrastructure needs before allowing individual developers to tackle individual parcels within the project.  The master developer concept works well for this situation and I would have favored it for Brooklyn Basin.

But I also understand why the master developer concept is infrequently used.  Under the current land-use paradigm in which more and more infrastructure is required while cities are less and less able to participate in the infrastructure costs, a developer must often fully build-out the site himself to recapture his infrastructure investment.  It’s an unfortunate situation, but there’s no obvious solution in sight.

And so Brooklyn Basin moves ahead and we once again fail to leave to the next generation what we should, land-use patterns that are conceived to regenerate and to renew themselves for a century or more.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

 

(Note: Rendering is from Signature Development.)