Once a 6-lane thoroughfare, Washington Boulevard underwent an initial "quick-build" transformation in 2019, adding painted protected bike lanes, curb extensions, pedestrian refuge islands, and boarding islands allowing for in-lane bus boarding/alighting. The physical protection for cyclists was upgraded further in 2022. Image Courtesy of Street Plans
Covid has been particularly hard on cities: downtown business districts are still struggling due to the shift to remote work; some cities have seen population declines; and crime has spiked virtually everywhere. In addition, the pandemic pushed more people into cars, setting back the safe streets movement. After years of progress, cities like New York City saw big increases in pedestrian deaths. This is a nationwide problem—with one notable exception: Jersey City recently announced that no one died on its city streets in 2022, meeting its Vision Zero plan for the city. The milestone was the result of years of work by the city and its collaborator, Street Plans, a planning firm founded by Mike Lydon and Anthony Garcia. Lydon, a DPZ alum and co-author of the 2015 book Tactical Urbanism (currently being updated), began working with Jersey City on a whole raft of initiatives six years ago. I spoke with Lydon last week and asked him, specifically, how the city and he did it.
Biennales, exhibitions, and architecture focused festivals provide a platform for opening debates, conducting research, and driving innovation, but they can also contribute to the incremental changes that shape the image and the character of a city. Through temporary installations and experiments, this type of events have the opportunity to open lines on inquiry into the quality of urban spaces, inviting visitors and residents to slow down, break away from their daily routine and interrogate their local environments. The effects might not be immediate, but by cumulating these impressions and moments of contemplation, architecture and design festivals can have a long-lasting impact on the cities that welcome them.
Playgrounds are spaces with equipment dedicated to children's leisure, where they can develop motor and social skills. However, these spaces are new to our cultures and cities and emerge from the recognition of childhood as a fundamental stage of human development.
Urban public spaces can transform the life of neighborhoods and cities and, therefore, need to be open to the social, cultural and technological changes that occur in society. From urban vegetable gardens to pet spaces, from rain gardens to art pavilions, life in today's cities has created new demands and ways of using and appropriating public spaces.
Norwegian architecture offices A-lab and LPO revealed the plan to develop the last remaining plot in Bispevika, part of the Fjord City, a large-scale waterfront urban renewal project in the center of Oslo, Norway. The intervention strengthens the connection between the historic medieval city of Oslo to the new Fjord City while also introducing cultural, creative, and commercial activities to the area. The project comprises five buildings forming a quarter. The proposed massing and height take a contextual approach as they are reduced toward important local monuments such as the baroque residence “Ladegården” with its baroque garden “Barokkhagen." The project is developed by Oslo S Utvikling (OSU), the same client behind the Barcode project, and in collaboration with landscape architects SLA.
International architecture office KPF has unveiled the design for Parkside Seoul, a new mixed-use neighborhood planned for the South Korean capital designed to complement the surrounding natural elements and pay homage to Yongsan Park. The 482,600 square meter development is composed of a layered exterior envelope that encompasses various programs and public amenities with the purpose of enhancing the residents’ experience of space. Besides the residential units, the complex includes office and retail spaces, and hospitality facilities along with public and green spaces.
In the 19th century, many Americans living in up-and-coming cities and towns oftentimes found themselves strolling through the winding paths of curated gardens, stopping to rest under the shade of a tree and share a picnic with family and friends. Dotted across the grassy areas were headstones, marking the burial locations of those who were laid to rest. While the concept of relaxing in a graveyard seems a bit taboo in the present day, it was sometimes the only option for people to find space for recreation and leisure and was one of the earliest examples of a public park. Many of the parks we have today were actually caused by the evolution and planning of historic cemeteries.
The intense social and environmental fervor that arose in the 1960s and 1970s in response to assaults on the planet’s life support systems, degradation of communities, and socio-economic inequality unleashed revolutionary change at all levels of society. Out of the turmoil of that era, community-based ecological design emerged as a powerful creative force for reshaping the commons, bringing people together, and forming ecologically sustainable relationships with the environment.
Courtesy of ODA - Renderings are based upon preliminary iterations of the design and do not reflect the final approved design.
If street culture is the glue that holds together an urban environment, what happens when its denizens no longer need to go outside? This is one of the fundamental questions faced by architects today, decades after the New Urbanist movement first popularized, or rather brought back, the concept of mixed-use streetscapes—and more than sixty years since Jane Jacobs famously championed walkable streets as essential to building vibrant urban communities.
Long gone, of course, are the days when city streets were our only outlet or option for access to retail and other services. Now, the internet gives us all that and more: remote shopping, banking, education, and even healthcare. Meanwhile, social media has transformed the way we communicate with friends and neighbors. All of which is to say: we no longer need to go out for social interaction or to procure services, we choose to.
New York City Council has approved Innovation QNS, a neighborhood-focused initiative in Western Queens, designed by ODA. The five-block master plan generates two acres of open space, community health & wellness facilities, hundreds of affordable apartments, and thousands of jobs. The project was initiated in 2020 as part of New York's effort to recover from the impact of the COvid-19 pandemic, and it aimed to revitalize a largely dormant block area in Astoria, Queens, and transform it into a vibrant, walkable, and diverse creative district.
Teen girls are neither children nor adults, meaning they have specific needs and behaviours different from both these groups. Unfortunately, like many marginalized groups, these needs and behaviours have not been met or encouraged through our built environment as it has for others. For example, playgrounds are built for children to let off steam and sports courts that foster competition are targeted at men and teen boys.
Accordingly, not building public spaces with the needs of teen girls in mind allows other groups of people, predominantly men who already take up 80% of public spaces, to continue to dominate them. Making teen girls feel ten times less secure in public spaces. Not only does this absence affect their social, physical, and mental development, but it also complicates how they see where they belong in public spaces.
The Athens International Airport was decommissioned in 2001, leading to two decades of work for the local government to establish funding and a governance mechanism to transform the 600 acres of unused space into Europe's largest coastal park. The site has a layered history, from prehistoric settlements to the construction of the airport in the 20th century and the site being used for as an Olympic venue in 2004. Architecture office Sasaki is leading the design to transform the site again and create the Ellinikon Metropolitan Park, a restorative landscape and climate-positive design that will serve as a park, playground, and cultural center for the city of Athens. Developers are planning to break ground early next year.
Home to architectural styles spanning almost three hundred years, the is no city like New Orleans. The meld of French, Spanish, and Caribbean architectural influences, in conjunction with the demands of the hot and humid climate, has impacted the urban fabric as much as the culture itself. Located along the Mississippi River and close to the Gulf of Mexico coast, the construction of ports, NOLA’s trading history, and forceful natural phenomena like Hurricane Katrina in 2005 illustrate how water has shaped the city.
Following Hurricane Katrina, Orleans adapted its values to respond to the changing needs of its recovering community. Although reconstruction is not only architectural responsibility, New Orleanspublic architecture has contributed to revitalizing and reinhabiting the city after the disaster. Museums, parks, and churches, each of these places connects people to each other in ways that define and support community.
"Life, space, buildings - in that order". This phrase, from the Danish urban architect Jan Gehl, sums up the changes that Copenhagen has undergone in the last 50 years. Currently known as one of the cities with the highest levels of quality of life satisfaction, the way its public spaces and buildings were and are designed have inspired architects, government authorities and urban planners around the world. What we see today, however, is the result of courageous decision-making, much observation and, above all, designs that put people first. Copenhagen will be the UNESCO-UIA World Capital of Architecture in 2023 as well as host of the UIA World Congress of Architects due to its strong legacy in innovative architecture and urban development, along with its concerted efforts in matters of climate, sustainability solutions and livability.
The Dutch firm OKRA landschapsarchitecten has been awarded the European Prize for Urban Public Space 2022 for its project to restore the Catharijnesingel canal in the city of Utrecht in the Netherlands. Being an initiative of the Center of Contemporary Culture of Barcelona (CCCB), this eleventh edition received 326 projects from 35 different countries showing those problems that European cities must face and proposing some solutions in the framework of a post-pandemic context focused on climate change and how to make cities more livable.
Envision your ideal neighborhood. Maybe it’s on a cul-de-sac in the suburbs, where every neighbor has a well-manicured lawn, a two-car garage, and everyone gives each other a friendly wave on their way to work. Or maybe you live in a high-rise building in a dense urban center, where you take public transit to the office five days a week and say hello to your doorman on your way out. Whatever your neighborhood might look like, there’s always a sense of wanting to know the people who live around your- or at least an unspoken reliance on one another to ensure that your surroundings are safe. What happens when technology brings you and your neighbors together to report on local happenings? Is it a good thing, or does it create a vigilante situation gone awry?
The queer crowd has always been present, finding ways to exist, gather, and celebrate. Although their visibility hasn't always been highlighted throughout history due to the consciousness of having to submit to heteronormative and strict mass normality in the past, doesn't mean they previously didn't have their own spaces to call their own. Queer spaces, past and present, have been categorized as strong, vibrant, vigorous, and worthy of occupying their own place in history, filling in as safe places for identifying individuals, places of social gathering, entertainment, and even offering community housing; therefore, there will always be a need for queer spaces.
550 Madison Avenue (née the AT&T Building, more recently Sony Plaza) is among the more recognizable figures on New York’s skyline. Designed by architect-provocateur Philip Johnson, the 37-story skyscraper stands out thanks to its curious headgear: a classical pediment broken by a circular notch, inviting frequent comparisons to the top of a Chippendale grandfather clock. A singular, if largely inoffensive presence on today’s icon-heavy streetscape, the design was positively shocking on its debut in 1979, when Johnson himself appeared on the cover of Time holding a model of the project, then still four years from completion. The image heralded the arrival of something new in American architecture: the fading of the flat-crowned Modernist towers of the midcentury and the onset of the Postmodernist wave.
