Bruised Feelings and Skinned Knees Litter Suburban Sidewalk Politics – WSJ.com

Bruised Feelings and Skinned Knees Litter Suburban Sidewalk Politics – WSJ.com.

Map of How Manhattan’s Grid Grew

Fantastic work from the NY Times: Map of How Manhattan’s Grid Grew.

Distracted…

Related to an earlier post…

That’s Ursala, a studio assistant to our professor, helping me give order to my work. This is the night before my presentation and the photos are Polaroids(!) to record what was laid out so that I could pin it to the wall the next morning. Because of the scale, mine was the first presentation of the day; my recollection is that it covered a surface of about 8′ x 24′. The model was 4′ x 8′ (not including the Marlboro Man).

 

Validation

Two architects walk into a bar…this promises to not be funny.

Take any two architects, put them in a room together to discuss their craft and, in due time, one or the other will state: “people do not know what they want”. Or, the corollary, people do not know what they can have. I don’t think I’m giving away any secrets. Given any two non-architects, if asked to discuss architects, they will likely, in time, note that architects are high-minded know-it-alls. In both cases, the language will be saltier than described here.

Let’s stroll past the analyst’s couch for a moment and admit that I am, perhaps, a slave to validation. But, with regard to architecture, I was surprised recently to find it in a place I had not expected.

With assistance from an associate architect during the design phase (one form of validation) and an excellent client (more validation), I designed and oversaw the construction of our house. No surprise there. I (and my excellent client) have found and continue to find flaws in the work yet, in general, delight in the overall effect of the building and grounds. I would be lying if I did not feel some sense of validation in the successful execution of my craft.

Validation

We have a steady stream of strangers who see our house. Regardless of their place in the world relative to me (or my excellent client) every person — I can recall no exceptions — who has the occasion to visit our building have a strong positive reaction to the space and place. None of this is praise for my work. Many might not even know that I am the architect of the place.

I give credit where credit is due: the property is fantastic raw material. A “wow component” was a given for the project — one which would make anyone’s imagination spin. Furthermore, I have no doubt that, in the hands of an architect with greater abilities, or if the home were not mine, I too would find myself in the parade of those expressing delight and admiration if seeing the property for the first time.

Validation

It occurs to me, through this steady stream of strangers expressing themselves, seeing an architecture which they had not imagined, with the occasional deeper expression of surprise in being attracted to something they would not have expected, does little validate me as an architect. It is a quick brush to my ego which my architect’s superego quickly invalidates.

The more powerful validation brings us back to the start. In general, most people do not consider the possibilities available in architecture, what an architect can bring to bear, the potential for delight in the built landscape. They build upon what is possible only based on what they have seen and know, rarely making the leap into the realm of possibilities. Yes, there are times when architecture goes off the rails, resulting in a significant backlash — validation of the opposite, let’s say, that architects wrongly think they know better than the client or user. That’s an idea that sends my superego into overtime — it’s not an easy to shut down.

I’m not going to defend that bad architecture. But I will defend the validation that all architecture brings — the merely average, buildings that meet the needs of the client and users, buildings that some might find ugly, buildings showered with platitudes, buildings that excel. They all do that one thing: you, I, we — we don’t always know what we can have. Worse, we move to avoid the possibilities of what could be.

Parcel 43, map J10_1

Cryptic title, I know. Just an aside…

I was looking at Jefferson County tax maps (now available online from the county) when an oddity at the corner of North Princess Street and the former Rocky Street jumped out at me. A 1.32 acre parcel cuts across the Shepherd campus as if it was once a connector from Princess Street to…what we now know as Rt. 480 and the Rumsey Bridge.

Fascinating stuff. Looking further, this time at the USGS map of Shepherdstown, one can see how the town can be abstracted to a nine-square grid, with four connectors to the rural landscape beyond:

1. Duke Street extends north to Shepherd Grade Road (staying on the West Virginia bank of the Potomac).
2. Duke Street extends south-west to Kearneysville.
3. Princess Street extends south toward Charles Town.
4. Princess Street extends north to cross the Potomac.

I’ve left out five and six, involving German Street. Blame the gestalt of the USGS map when considering this synthetic analysis — German Street represents a main route through town, of course but its connection to the east (down to the river) is easily imagined as a mere service road.

Imagine a giant traffic circle

An important component to any thinking about Princess Street involves the intersection at West Washington Street. And with that, the amount of traffic flowing through town at any given time.

Seeing the problem of traffic at Halloween prompted an acquaintance to suggest that German Street be closed for a period, just as is done for a parade. Unlike a parade though, the activity during Tricks-or-Treats, while heaviest on German Street, is not restricted to German Street. Little ghouls seeking candy are distributed throughout the grid.

This reminds me then of what it is like to be a “townie” — be it here or Camden, Maine — knowing that one might choose another route through town. The grid and its ability to distribute flow is once again our friend. (Camden, Maine’s grid is less clear and barely grid-like. It takes some real time to understand where the alternate routes are.)

Vehicular flow is not the biggest problem at Halloween. Sidewalk traffic is. The only way to make bigger sidewalks in Shepherdstown is to take some space from the street.

A solution for that night? South Princess-West German flow one-way north-west, West Washington-South Duke flow one-way south-east. Imagine a big traffic circle. King Street at the library is closed. Do this early, and move the parking on the south side of German into the east-bound traffic lane (both parking sides pointing west, of course).

While I would not begin to suggest that this change be permanent, I write about it here to encourage thinking about traffic and pedestrian flows in ways that might be unconventional or surprising.

Council hears annexation proposal – News, opinion, resources | Shepherdstown Chronicle

Adam Shively, Shepherdstown resident, suggested offering services that might encourage college students to stay in town over weekends.

“Hardware for small fix-it projects, inexpensive food choices, whatever it is they go home for. That’s 4,000 potential customers,” Shively said

Funny, that…I was saying the very same thing just two days ago, to Maggie, proprietor of the town hardware store — currently suspended over a recession by a very thin thread.

—via Council hears annexation proposal – News, opinion, resources | Shepherdstown Chronicle.

Off topic

Among much of what I would have thought would be considered off topic on a meeting about annexation of a parcel (a development proposal at this stage) was a comment that what German Street really needs is public parking behind the buildings which line the street — in the alleys, in other words. I nearly fell off my chair. It strikes me that this idea flies in the face of thoughtful urban design strategies and it touches directly on ideas I presented over 25 years ago in a discussion of Colonial Williamsburg: we might think we like the feel of Williamsburg/Shepherdstown for the principal facades and picturesque streets but, it is, in fact, the in-between spaces which make towns like this a delight. Scale comparisons aside, one place I can think of that demonstrates this contrast is Marietta, Ohio. Serious street frontage is great but without a supporting cast of jesters and a rhythm section for the stars, the show is a bit empty.