A Tale of Two Parks

Central Park

New York City is home to two of our nation's most impressively and intricately designed public parks, the famous Central Park in Manhattan and the lesser-known Prospect Park in Brooklyn.

These two parks, both designed and executed during the mid-19th Century mark the advent of the fundamental idea that urban structures must contain public parks, equally accessible to all inhabitants. This concept, one often taken for granted in modern societies, formed as a result of a collaboration between Frederick Law Olmsted and architect Calvert Vaux. These two highly skilled men teamed to enter a competition to design first Central Park, later Prospect Park, and eventually a great selection of public spaces throughout the United States. In doing so, these men created the concept of landscape architecture and, in effect, established the first landscape architecture firm.

Prospect Park

It would take a great deal of time to familiarize oneself with detailed layout and characteristic qualities of either park. Central Park covers an area of 840 acres, while Prospect Park spans a mere 585. However, from preliminary observation, it becomes quickly apparent that the two parks share many defining qualities and similar ideas. A key component of each design is the ability of topographical changes to create unique experiences and allow visitors to create individual paths of travel. The varying levels of terrain and trails mimics architectural forms in its ability to layer space in such a way as to create an entirely new form altogether. This concept is embodied by the elegant bridges strategically placed throughout both parks.

As one studies these structural pieces, the similarities are enough to tie each design back to its creator, as Vaux was largely responsible for these elements. Yet, each bridge mark a singular instance, grown out of its surroundings rather than standing in contrast. Each bridge is able to work harmoniously with both the natural elements that it serves to connect as well as create a unifying structural feature spanning the distance of over 1000 acres of public land and two burroughs of New York City.

Central Park

Prospect Park

Characters in an Urban Society

This is one time I do not feel guilty shamelessly plugging another website's entry. This deals directly with the current exhibit at SUPERFRONT, a contemporary architecture collaborative located in Brooklyn, New York, of which I have recently become involved.

SUPERFRONT Gallery - Jimenez Lai

Jimenez's drawings accomplish the remarkable task of compiling perhaps the most complex issues surrounding urban structures and architectural language and streamlining his own thoughts on these matters into coherent trails of visual communication. As one progresses through this series of drawings, an attachment develops not only with the human characters featured, but also with the built structures beginning to form. A thought that resonates with me in the above video is when Jimenez refers to 'architecture as characters'. I believe it important as an architect and designer to acknowledge the fact that buildings are not passive structures, placed in the background of our everyday urban lives, but rather active players in an ever-changing scene. The push and pull of urban topographical advancement plays a vital role in public interaction. In contemplating the future of society as a whole, one must take into account the decay, resurrection, and creation of built form. For as the world's population tips toward a dominant modern city culture, we all become integral characters in the tale of urban evolution.

New Yorleans State of Mind

When contemplating the true essence of a city and its inhabitants, I cannot name two places more fundamentally opposed than New Orleans and New York City. Which is why I was so very excited to participate in one of New Orleans oldest rites of passage right here in my new home, a second line parade. To give a very brief history of this event, a second line forms for many occasions: births, deaths, holidays, celebrations, mournings, or just a sunny afternoon. It is an impromptu parade in the truest sense of the word, for the only people actually part of the 'parade' are the select few initiating the event, always including members of a brass band. The rest of said parade are merely people the revelers pick up along the way and form a 'second line' of paraders, in other words people strolling along behind the band and in effect forming a second line of marchers.

This type of event symbolizes a selection of New Orleanian values: music, comradery, and relaxation. Participating in such an event across the Brooklyn Bridge in New York City highlighted a true clash of cultures. At its climax, the parade probably reached about two hundred people. Understandably, this large of a group, along with a few tubas, dominated the path of travel in both directions. Of course, this made New Yorkers not involved with the event more than a little frustrated. New York is a culture built around a fast pace of life, a driven energy, and the desire to get from point A to B in the fastest possible way. As bicyclists and runners encountered this second line parade, many became frustrated and turned around, a few got angry and forced their way through the slow moving crowd, but an even greater number were captured by the light-hearted sense of togetherness the parade emitted. Bikers dismounted their rides, joggers slowed to a stroll, and together we crossed the bridge in true New Orleans style.

The second line was lead across the bridge by the ever energetic DancingMan504... a Treme resident. Check out his website for a more informative history of the second line and some videos of his sweet moves.

and he dances on long into the afternoon...

Admiral's Row

In his novel, The World Without Us, Alan Weisman contemplates nature's ability to reclaim the earth when and if an opportunity arises. If humans are to neglect a constant upkeep and development of built form, nature's power is quick to manifest itself and revert back to a landscape previous to architectural form.

At the time I read these ideas, the concepts seemed surreal and intangible to a committed city-girl. In my mind, the massive structures of concrete and steel I surround myself with day after day serve as fortresses against nature's commanding, yet subtle presence in this city.

Then I discovered Admiral's Row, a stretch of Second Empire style homes once occupied by naval officers at the Brooklyn Naval Yard. The property is now owned by the Army Corps of Engineers, although the original Navy yard was closed in the mid-1960's and all homes were abandoned by the mid-1970's. Some of the houses date back to the civil war, and much debate has been waged over whether or not the properties could qualify for inclusion on the National Registry of Historic Places. I've now found mixed accounts regarding the future of this property. Many call for the preservation of these historic structures, making strong cases for adaptive reuse and restoration. Others fight for the razing of the entire property in order to make room for a new supermarket and commercial center.

I'm sure you can all guess which option I would support, so rather than entangle this entry in the decades of debate regarding this land, I encourage you to read a selection from the New York Times documenting the potential demolition of the homes as well as The Municipal Art Society's plea for preservation. These sites link to a wealth of research and facts and highlight two options for the future of this space.

However, what truly fascinates me is what is happening on the land at this very moment. I refer back to Weisman's ideas and contemplate a world without human influence. The following photos speak for themselves as proof that nature truly does have the ultimate power in a constant struggle to sustain. One has to wonder what would happen if the landscape is left to reign in this environment. The evident dichotomy present in these photos highlights a struggle between order and chaos, a disconnect between man and nature. Observing this scene is at once serene and disturbing; perhaps it is this duality that creates a true beauty in an absence of place. Enjoy.

Photographs of a Neighborhood

Sometimes, the simplest things can really make you smile.

Discovered on Lincoln Avenue, hanging above the subway tracks.

BUILDING in THE FUTURE: Recasting Labor in Architecture (Book Release)

Last night, I attended the book launch of, BUILDING in THE FUTURE: Recasting Labor in Architecture. The speakers/contributers were: Peggy Deamer (theorist), Phillip G. Bernstein (technologist), Christ Noble (legalist), and Scott Marble (architect). These four seemingly wildly disparate individuals have come together to produce a cohesive and in-depth analysis of our profession today, and a prediction of where it will go in the future.

Each spoke of their viewpoint and contribution to the work, which, as Peggy summarized deals with:

1. The work we do as architects, not the products we make.

2. New technologies, but with the viewpoint that while these do support change, they are not the driving force behind such changes.

3. Our profession cannot invoke change while examining work in silos of productivity, but rather we must examine together across fields of discipline.

4. A theoretical examination need not be an abandonment of critical work, but rather a catalyst for the progression of such work.

I have highlighted a universal subject prominent in Phillip's talk below:

As you can see, Phillip discussed an idea I seem to keep running into: the popular notion of the moment that Integrated Product Delivery will be the future of building, the future of our profession. The above diagram represents the ambiguity now present between designers and constructors. Each holds a specific role, yet somewhere in between intention and execution, the linkage breaks down. Phillip raised the question, what causes this rift? Is this a question of power, productivity, or profit? A combination of the three? Ultimately, what causes this gulf of separation is the dichotomy between risk and reward. The issue now on the table: how do we break down this boundary we have spent years working to establish?

Ironically (or perhaps not), this talk raised many of the same questions the same topic did back in Chicago. For example:

Q: Is IPD synonymous with BIM technologies?

Panel answer: No, of course not. However, by the time IPD is truly a universal practice, two dimensional representations of built work will be a thing of the past.

Q: What would stop contractors from taking 'cartoon sketches' of ideas from architects and creating their own BIM models? In other words, won't this devalue the need for an architect even further?

(Somewhat nerve wracking) Panel answer: The progression of our field is up to us as architects. Contractors have already started doing just that, making it imperative that we embrace these technologies and use them to our benefit.

This brought up an excellent thought from the evening: the transition from pen to computer drafting was evolutionary, yet the transition we now face from computer drafting to Building Information Modeling will be revolutionary. This is no small feat, but rather a dynamic shift in the way our future will be designed and built.

Q: How will this help us to make more money/get sued less?

Panel answer: It is a bad habit to look to contractual documents to solve our problems. These problems need to be solved with design and with collaboration instead. They went into great detail siting personal examples of previous work, you will have to read the book for more details.

Q: How will this serve the end user? How will someone untrained in complex model software be able to use this work for building maintenance in the future?

(Radical) Panel answer: In the future, end users will simply be able to point their IPhone, IPad, I(whatever apple comes up with next) at a portion of their completed building and access Building Information Modeling information. For a very prosaic example, a light needs to be replaced - interject IPhone magic - instructions: buy X light and obtain ladder.

I simply cannot do justice to the work of these incredible individuals in a single blog post. Instead in conclusion, I commend the four speakers for a cohesive and thought provoking evening, and encourage you to read their newly released work:

I leave you with this thought, which I believe Phillip stated as the presentation concluded: 'It takes a recession for the building industry to be truly reflective and begin to make changes'.

This thought, I think, can leave us all with hope for what lies ahead for the profession and for our built communities.

Broken Angel

One of my favorite qualities of New York City life is the ability to wander aimlessly around nearly any neighborhood in this vast metropolis and somehow stumble upon architectural treasures. I found this gem on a lovely Sunday afternoon stroll to a friend's abode.

Of course, after stumbling upon this enchanted castle-esque structure. I had to uncover the history behind such a building. This turned out to be almost as fascinating as observing the structure itself.

The building is located in the Clinton Hill neighborhood of Brooklyn, at the intersection of Quincy and Downing to be exact. For those of you who are unaware, this building served as the backdrop for the documentary film 'Dave Chappelle's Block Party' in 2006.

How did this house come into existence? Through a twenty-seven year commitment of labor by two artists, Aurthur Wood and his wife Cynthia. Together, they purchased the property in 1971 for an astounding $2,000 (as this neighborhood gentrifies, the lot has since skyrocketed in value). Aurthur is a self-taught artist, contractor, and architect. He dedicated the next twenty-seven years of his life to creating his ideal home. In a truly sustainable spirit, Aurthur and Cynthia reused items to create the structure, bottles, pipes, anything they could get their hands on was used to create an artistic oasis.

In this home, they cultivated a spirit of creation and experimentation. Many of the 'rooms' were exposed to natural elements. I read that they kept a jar full of water in their kitchen and when the water froze, they sent their son to stay warm with friends. Many of the 'stories' were simply half-formed slabs, precariously suspended from walls and ceilings. The Woods lived peacefully in their sanctuary until a fire in 2006 finally gave the Department of Buildings just cause to inspect the property. I don't know the details of what they found inside, but the building was vehemently disapproved for habitation, a risk to human life. What followed has become a battle of epic proportions between artist and developer, those who want to preserve and those who want to create a unified, condo driven street scape.

Of course, I am in support of such eccentricity and a strong proponent of preservation, if merely for the building's ability to invoke critical thought. A film was created by Margot Niederland and filmed at the Sundance Film Festival in 1991. She is quoted in an LA Times article as referring to Wood as "a crazy New York Gaudi". While this sentiment may draw a question mark for many architectural historians, there is something special at 4 Downing Street in Clinton Hill. Just last month, Cynthia Wood passed away after a long battle with cancer, the community has left this homage to her memory. I hope that the community can also find a way to create a lasting, and functional memory from this fascinating dedication to the built form.

I will leave you with this thought, from Aurthur Wood himself. It was said that Aurthur questioned whether people should live in the bottom of a cube of space. Rather, he questioned why people can't exist diagonally in this cube. Despite the apparent legal 'unsafe and unlivable' conditions that this sentiment provoked in the Broken Angel, the question bears cause for thoughtful contemplation and critical architectural thought.