hugeasscity

This photo was shot from a cul-de-sac in a 1960s subdivision in Medfield. Think that street is wide enough?

For all you streetscape wonks, it measures 38 feet from curb-to-curb, with five foot sidewalks. In comparison, the standard low-density residential street in Seattle is 25 feet curb-to-curb (these are the streets on which it is impossible for two cars to pass each other when cars are parked on both sides of the street).

On this street in Medfield, only in some highly unusual circumstance would there be more cars parked on the street that what you see in the photo above, and in any case, most of the houses have driveways and garages that could hold four or five cars easily. And there is so little traffic that the meeting of two cars traveling in opposite directions is a very rare occurrence.

All that unneeded pavement is a perfect match for all the giant lawns. This is the built environment of a dying era.

*struggling to control my urban biases…

Thai food arrived in Medfield about a decade ago. But I’ve yet to find a good espresso cafe — not even a Starbucks in town.

The anchor business of nearly every small Massachusetts town: the package store, a.k.a. the “packy.” In Massachusetts this is the only place you can buy any kind of alcohol. About 5 years ago the State’s blue laws were relaxed and for the first time packies were allowed to open on Sundays, but only after 12 p.m. Apparently the region is still not ready to completely cast off its Puritan heritage.

Medfield has two packies. In High School I played in a rock band with a guy whose uncle owned the one in the photo above, and whose father owned the town’s most prominent real estate agency and was a Medfield Selectman. Small town.

[ By Stephen Mathewson, from “out of the ‘black_box_series” (2001, work_in_progress) ]

1. Stephen Mathewson (a.k.a. John Robinson): Founding member of Watch The Teeth Kate, and 21st century renaissance man.

2. “Hurricane” Peter McNeeley: First fighter to face Michael Tyson after he was released from prison in 1995; bout lasted 89 seconds.

Though the built environment of Medfield is dominated by single-family homes on large lots, there are more multifamily units than I would have guessed. The 2006 American Community Survey reports the following for the fraction of housing units that are single-family detached:

• Medfield: 81%
• Seattle: 48%
• Boston: 12%

The rate of home ownership follows a similar trend:

• Medfield: 78%
• Seattle: 52%
• Boston: 39%

When I was in grade school in Medfield pretty much everyone I knew lived in a single-family house that their family owned. And on the rare occasion I heard about a kid in our school who lived in an apartment, I remember having this sense that they were different from all the rest of us, that their families must be defective in some way. This wasn’t something I learned from my parents, or from any other explicit source. Ostensibly our widely held cultural bias against multifamily housing furtively seeped into my impressionable young mind from multiple, subtle origins.

[ Medfield Town Hall, built in 1874 ]

For 357 years since its incorporation as a town in 1651, Medfield has been governed by the purest form of democracy currently practiced in the United States: open town meeting. Any resident who is registered to vote can can show up at the annual town meeting and cast votes on all major legislative issues, including town administration, budget, bylaws, and zoning.

Though the open town meeting in a community with such a small population would seem to be the ideal expression of democracy, the reality in terms of participation is not so ideal. A quorum of 250 residents is required, which is about 2% of the population. Typically, around 500 residents attend. So even though the open town meeting offers the opportunity for 100% democratic participation, only about one in twenty residents feels it is worth the time.

The people of Medfield respect The Lawn. These are 1/2-acre lots in the photo above, not quite big enough to fall in the “too big to mow, too small to farm” category, but it takes real work to keep these beauties looking so good.

And so the signature sound of the suburbs is the gas lawn mower. On my first morning here the droning growl rang out from across the street at about 8 a.m. (5 a.m. Seattle time). A widow in her seventies lives alone in the four bedroom, two-car garage house, and one of her sons who lives across town has taken on the chore of keeping the lawn up to neighborhood standards.

But here’s the weird thing: For all the time and care people put into their lawns, they rarely seem to use them for anything. For sure lawns are great for kids, and that thick lush grass feels wonderful in bare feet, but pretty much every lawn I’ve seen around these parts in the last two days has been empty. Empty except for people pushing lawn mowers, that is.

A vast green lawn can be a pleasing site (and quite vast they can be when the front lawns of several adjacent suburban lots are strung together). And of course there’s nothing wrong with the wish to create an attractive landscape. But this whole lawn obsession has roots that stretch back over a century or so, and was born out of the desire to ape the wealthy and their country estates. Perhaps it’s time for a new aesthetic.

In Seattle and many other urban areas, it is becoming increasingly popular to replace turf grass lawns with low-maintenance, drought-tolerant and/or native plants. Imagine if this trend catches on in low-density, suburban neighborhoods like the one shown above. With such a large area of land that could be converted, the potential for creating wildlife habitat, saving water, and reducing pesticide/herbicide and fertilizer use would be immense.

And the good people would be released from servitude to The Lawn.

Greetings from Medfield, Massachusetts, population: 12,000, median household income: $98,000. I seem to recall that when I was in high school I spent a lot of time drinking Budweiser on deserted dirt roads in this town. When I was in college my friend’s brother died of a heroin overdose in a building about a block away from the church in the photo above.

Only about 20 miles southwest of Boston, the population density here is 1.3 people/acre; Boston is 19/acre; Seattle is 11/acre. From 2005 to 2008 Seattle’s housing unit stock grew by approximately six Medfields.

How will a town like Medfield fare in the 21st Century? Currently, Medfield is among the wealthiest communities in Massachusetts. It is also completely car-dependent. Medfield, like many similar small towns in the Boston suburbs, has changed very little over the past several decades. But can it withstand the shock of a transition to carbon-free energy?

What is the relationship between the importance of a building and the brightness and saturation of its colors? One building in this photo provides energy for cars. The other provides housing and food for people.

OK, whatever.

Perhaps try a grok at this instead: Gas stations have remarkably resplendent color schemes, yet we barely notice them.

Stupid machine.  That is all.

True Story: The City of Seattle has taken space away from cars and given it to cyclists. And not just any space, but the most sacred kind of space there is in car culture: parking. A new bike lane will soon open on the west side of 4th Ave between Yesler and Spring, as part of Seattle’s new bike master plan. And 38 parallel parking spaces will be sacrificed. This is a minor miracle.

As for whether or not the majority of Seattlites share my view of progress, this King5 news story is highly revealing. It begins with a set up, describing this dreadful thing that has happened: downtown parking is becoming more scarce, and when you’re late for an appointment you’re going to have to drive around and around the block looking for a space and you may not even find one! Then comes the punchline: “The culprit – a new bicycle lane on 4th Avenue.”

In the several reviews that followed the release of Jared Diamond’s book Collapse, it seemed as though a multitude of the reviewers concentrated solely on Diamond’s summary of the event’s that led to the end of human occupation of Easter Island. The tone was universal, as though this information was some sort of shocking revelation. More than ten years previous, while I was in grad school for archaeology, I was in a seminar about societal complexity and collapse. The opening statement was about Easter Island.

“The last person, who cut down the last tree on the island, knew exactly what they were doing.”

It was a simple testament, that humans in groups have the capability to overuse the resources they need to survive, even when individuals maybe fully cognizant of that reality.

Withing the last couple of months, I’ve noticed more than a few news items relating to shortages of a very important resource. I’m not talking about corn and rice. I’m talking about water. Have humans every really been all that good about water? Even Frontinus wrote about the growth of the Roman aqueducts as they reacted to population growth, not planning ahead for it, always fighting shortfalls in supply.

There was a chilling piece in WIRED recently. Many outlets have covered the fight that has been taking place between several southern states as of late. McNiel/Lehrer (I’ll still call it that, I’m old) had a great piece about California’s impending water problems. It seemed to paint the picture that Northern California was concerned with growing food while Southern California was concerned about keeping their golf courses green.

The one story that sent a real chill up my spine after a few minutes of consideration was recently on Frontline World. It was a short, ten minute story that covered the shrinking glaciers in the Himalayas and the simply huge numbers of people that will be affected. There are over a billion people north of the Himalayas that depend on the various rivers that flow out of the mountains in their direction. The over a billion people that live south of the mountains are in a similar situation. What happens when either India or China start diverting supplies away from the other? Humans have quite easily gone to war over various commodities that they don’t need to live such as olives, sugar and cocaine. What happens when people with nuclear weapons start running out of water?

Just because the various states don’t have nukes pointing at each other does not mean things can’t get at least a little nasty. That fight is for expensive lawyers where water rights can and easily do spend many years in litigation. Think about that the next time you water your lawn or go golfing. No human died and no culture collapsed for lack of either.

The downtown office core harbors a cornucopia of uncanny urban spaces. The other day I happened to pass by the one shown above and couldn’t resist busting out the Panasonic DMC-TZ3, thinking I’d probably want to write something about how these grand entry plazas are usually such a stupid waste of space. But after I came down the escalator, out came scurrying the youngest, friendliest looking security guard I have ever seen, who proceeded to tell me, while seemingly holding back a giggle, that he had to ask me not to take photos of the building. By that time I already had all I wanted, so even though I was totally put off by his request I said OK, not wanting to risk any escalation that might have led to a demand for my memory card.

But then I couldn’t help asking why. And again, all the time with that shit-eating grin, the kid paused, and then said he couldn’t tell me why. So I said, “you don’t even know why?” and then he seemed stumped, and finally mumbled something about how he used to be in the military and um, this is different he guessed, but no, he really didn’t know why. I wish I had asked him if he knew what year it was when 9/11 happened.

I am thoroughly nonplussed and disheartened that the hugeasscity readership did not have the wherewithal to correctly identify the reason for the three-story windowless concrete penthouse atop the Financial Center building. As is screamingly obvious in the photo above, the blank concrete band at the top of the building was a critical design feature, a gesture necessary to perfectly balance the two-story blank concrete band at the base of the building. Just go up in a helicopter sometime and take a look — you’ll see what I mean right away. This is the sort of design sensitivity that is tragically and all too often under-appreciated in brutalist architecture.

But then hey, what’s behind that 2-story blank wall at the base? Many large downtown buildings have parking decks in that location, but that can’t be the case here (can it?). Matt the Engineer, please help.

And if you ever find yourself in the Financial Center entry plaza, go up the stairs in back and treat yourself to the view shown in the photo below. Hmm, what do they keep in the windowless base of that thing…

There are aspects of the building shown above that are more consequential than the orange wall, though that bad boy is a piece of work, to be sure. Pb Elemental‘s designers, not known for subtle gestures, continue to be the local masters of ignoring context — not that that is necessarily a bad thing, particularly when there is very little in the way of valuable context to ignore. (But if you look closely at the fresh graffiti on the building it reads “your orange wall sucks cause it’s way out of context with Parnell’s Mini-mart!”)

Behind that orange wall is soon to be Pb Elemental’s first completed stand-alone “work-loft” unit, located at 23rd Ave and Dearborn in the Central District. Also under construction on the same development site are a pair of 2-story loft homes.

This is an unconventional project. First, the location would seem to be an unlikely one, for residential as well as commercial. Second, the mix of uses on a single infill site is innovative. And third, the stand-alone, small footprint, 2-story loft layout is unusual for a commercial space. Oh yeah, and it’s bold and boxy and gray and has a big orange wall. And one more thing about that orange wall — it is likely to contribute to the success of the commercial space because it creates such a strong sense of identity.

Pb Elemental has four other work-unit projects listed on their website. And I think they’re onto something good. These small units should help encourage micro-retail and support small, independent businesses. And best of all, since the commercial spaces are so small, they don’t require on-site parking — Pb’s Union and Leary projects have none. We ought to have a sustainability award that goes to every developer who has the audacity to put up a new building with no on-site parking.

By the year 2012, according to a new report (pdf) from CIBC World Markets on the effects of the rising cost of oil. Among the predictions:

• oil at $200/barrel and gasoline at $7/gallon by 2010
• 10 million fewer vehicles on the road by 2012 (peak at 240 million)
• 15% reduction in vehicle miles traveled by 2012

If these predictions bear out, the cost of oil will do more to reduce our region’s greenhouse gas emissions than we could ever reasonably hope to achieve with government policy. And I hope someone brings a copy of the report to the next Viaduct Stakeholders meeting.

What is up with that ~30 feet of blank concrete wall at the top of the Financial Center Building at 4th and Seneca? That’s a good three stories of wasted building height way up there where the views are best. Ten feet above roof level to screen rooftop mechanical equipment would not be unusual. So then what about that other 20 feet? A secret CIA detention center perhaps?

Even though it’s almost exactly the same color, Seattle Tower, built in 1929, provides a good contrast. As you would expect, the top floor window head height is roughly one story below the top of the facade. But of course, the much more glaring contrast is in the richness of design (yup, I’m stating the obvious again). The complex art-deco facade is immediately impressive, but there is also an easily missed subtle detail: the shade of brick gradually lightens moving up the building to mimic the play of light on mountains. And the cavernous lobby reinforces the metaphor, suggesting an alpine cave. (Is the Four Seasons building at 1st and Union a modern example of a similar architectural nod to nature?)

Some probably feel that Seattle Tower’s art-deco style is overwrought and has not held up well over time. But if nothing else, the building’s design reflects a passionate belief in something, whereas buildings like the Financial Center speak of a culture driven solely by dry utilitarianism.

In the present era, our culture has no unifying sense of beauty or pattern or pride that manifests itself to any substantial degree in our buildings. But there is some hope: ecologically sensitive design has great potential to bring some deeper meaning back into architecture. The Seattle Justice Center and the Ballard Library are two good local examples of compelling built form that embodies cultural values rooted in sustainability.

[ Illustration by Jules Feiffer ]

From The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norton Juster:

“Many years ago, on this very spot, there was a beautiful city of fine houses and inviting spaces, and no one who lived here was ever in a hurry. The streets were full of wonderful things to see and the people would often stop to look at them.”

“Didn’t they have any place to go?” asked Milo.

“To be sure,” continued Alec; “but, as you know, the most important reason for going from one place to another is to see what’s in between, and they took great pleasure in doing just that. Then one day someone discovered that if you walked as fast as possible and looked at nothing but your shoes you would arrive at your destination much more quickly. Soon everyone was doing it. They all rushed down the avenues and hurried along the boulevards seeing nothing of the wonders and beauties of their city as they went.”

Milo remembered the many times he’d done the very same thing; and, as hard as he tried, there were even things on his own street that he couldn’t remember.

“No one paid any attention to how things looked, and as they moved faster and faster everything grew uglier and dirtier, and as everything grew uglier and dirtier they moved faster and faster, and at last a very strange thing began to happen. Because nobody cared, the city slowly began to disappear. Day by day the buildings grew fainter and fainter, and the streets faded away, until at last it was entirely invisible. There was nothing to see at all.”

“Hasn’t anyone told them?” asked Milo.

“It doesn’t do any good,” Alec replied, “for they can never see what they’re in too much of a hurry to look for.”

Now, to represent our reality, we’d need to take all those people in the above scenario and put them into cars — not a promising prospect for the built environment. I don’t know how a city can become more invisible than invisible, but much of what has been built in the age of the car might as well be.

I’m not one to bemoan the coming of more high-density housing to Seattle, but still, something seems a tad out of touch with reality in the scene shown above (and have you ever seen such a magnificent application of blue tarps?).

Seneca Towers, a 25-story, 285-unit condo tower, will soon to rise from this site at the corner of 8th and Seneca on the West slope of First Hill. And to make way, what would appear to have been a decent, usable, 5-story brick apartment building is coming down.

It’s all about timing. And location. Given the cooling housing market, and given the large quantity of condo units coming online just ahead Seneca Towers, and given that most of this competition is arguably in more desirable downtown locations, one might have expected the developer to hold off on pulling the trigger on the building demo.

The development slowdown is real, just ask the architects. But here in Seattle, is it being driven more by actual lack in demand, or by the banks overreacting to their prior lending carelessness and keeping an excessively tight hold on financing? Overall, Seattle still seems to have relatively strong fundamentals — for example the PI recently reported that Seattle was the nation’s leader in high-tech job growth for 2006. If, in fact, financing is the main culprit, then the slowdown is artificial and will lead to pent up demand, which in turn will perpetuate a painful and inefficient bust-boom cycle.

Dear Bankers: Please try to do a better job controlling your business.