Heatherwick’s reticence makes his latest work more surprising. He is launching a 10-year campaign against the “catastrophe” of how buildings are built. Our cities, he argues, are in the grip of an “epidemic of boringness”. Most modern buildings are too flat, too plain, too straight, too shiny, too monotonous, too anonymous and too serious. They make us unhappy and ill, they make us not want to come into the office.
In his book Humanise, out on Thursday, Heatherwick derides architects as members of a modernist “cult”, which indoctrinates them during their seven-year training into thinking they don’t need the public’s approval. The result is the UK’s commercial buildings are so unloved that they have an average lifespan of perhaps 50 years, leading to huge carbon emissions as they are replaced.
I haven't read it yet, but something tells me that I'll probably agree with some/many aspects of the book and be annoyed by others.
What I'll likely agree with is that our cities should be more playful, beautiful, and creative. They should be more human. And we should be more daring.
But what I'll likely be annoyed by is the impracticality of the proposed approach(es). There are markets. There exists money. And there are reasons why many of Heatherwick's projects are "luxury" ones.
Or maybe I'm just being cynical and I should wait and see.
Shoot up the Humber River and pass under various bridges and subway tracks.
Arrive in Weston (which, by the way, was established in 1796). Go west on Lawrence to Royal York (there are a couple of hills here that will get your bum up).
Then bomb down Royal York as fast as you can until you arrive at San Remo Bakery for coffee, donuts, cured meats, and other wonderful things that I don't normally order.
Many of you probably didn't click through on this link in yesterday's post , but it was a link to a book called Emergent Tokyo -- Designing the Spontaneous City . What this book is largely about is the idea that Tokyo -- usually considered to be the largest urban region in the world -- is more the result of bottom-up actions than top-down actions. In other words, it is a kind of complex and self-organizing system.
Some of you may be reading this and thinking that the result would be chaos. But the opposite is, in fact, true. Despite being the largest urban agglomeration in the world, Tokyo is consistently viewed as one of the most livable big cities in the world. How is that possible?
One topic that we've been talking about on this blog recently is the planning approach of mandating ground-floor retail in new developments. While certainly good intentioned, this is one example of top-down planning. We are saying, "retail needs to go here because."
The problem, as we have talked about, is that the market may not want it. It may not actually be viable or desirable. Of course, it is a delicate situation. Because if you don't provision for it, then you might block it from ever being possible on sites where it clearly makes sense. (We spoke specifically about this, here .)
There is also the opposite question of: where are we not allowing retail?
Maybe there are places where retail activity would be viable today, except it's currently not permitted. One concrete example of this is Toronto's laneways. Right now, we only allow residential (throughout our "Neighbourhoods"). But there many people, including myself and planner Blair Scorgie , who have been arguing that they should be mixed-use:
Would office and retail uses actually work in Toronto's residential laneways? I frankly don't know. Because they're not allowed today, it's largely impossible to know. If we allowed these uses and nothing happened, then we'd have a better idea that there's little demand for it. (I say a better idea because there still could be other obstacles in the way.)
On the other hand if we decided to mandate non-residential uses in our laneways and nobody did anything, two things might then happen. One, we'd be similarly led to believe that there's little to no demand. And two, we'd probably be sacrificing the residential use, for which we can say today there is clear demand.
There are also the considerations that demand will almost certainly change over time and be inconsistent across different locations. For instance, maybe retail doesn't work in this laneway, but it will work in that laneway. Can we actually plan for this?
Top-down approaches generally assume that we know all or many of the answers. It presumes that we know that this street should have ground-floor retail and this street should not. It's also about control. More bottom-up approaches admit that it's impossible to plan for everything and that there could be latent potential that we're not even thinking about.
Of course, there is something naturally unsettling about this approach because it is, by definition, unknowable. And it relinquishes a certain amount of control. Maybe a restaurant will appear here or maybe it won't. Maybe someone will open a small office in this laneway or maybe they won't. Either way, the potential for change exists.
But I think this should be seen as empowering, transparent, and highly efficient. It is a way of reducing the barriers to entry and allowing more urban creativity and ambition to shrine through. I believe, for example, that if we made it easier, cheaper, and possible to open a small restaurant (perhaps in a laneway), we would have more and overall better restaurants in the city.
And as we have seen in the case of Tokyo, the result of more flexibility is not necessarily chaos. It can be a highly livable city that has people wondering, "how did they manage to plan such a large city so well?"
