Arbitrary Lines

I love cities. (Yeah, obviously). But, they’re not perfect. Especially in the US. I’ve been wondering for awhile why many American cities feel a bit off and I think M. Nolan Gray may have solved the puzzle!

M. Nolan Gray’s Arbitrary Lines investigates how zoning policies have led to segmented and inequitable cities. The subtitle explains it all: “how zoning broke the American city and how to fix it.” Gray, unpretentiously, walks us through what zoning is and how it has pushed to perpetuate segregation and sprawl in American cities. With zoning, we aren’t just talking about wanting to be able to build whatever house you want (modern box? Victorian revival? how about farmhouse chic?). We are talking about access. Access to grocery stores (I’m hungry). Access to healthcare (oh no I’m sick from eating too much food). Access to infrastructure (you want your sewers to work don’t you?). Access to jobs (got to be able to pay for the groceries). Access to public transportation (how are you getting to that job?). Access is the real deal.

Gray explains in the top of Chapter 4: “Ancient Athens, Renaissance Florence, contemporary Silicon Valley. What do they all have in common? Besides profoundly shaping the world we live in today, all three clarify the importance of place in making us more creative, innovative, and productive…genius does not seem to be randomly distributed. Rather, it clusters in particular places at particular times,” (67). Urban planners attempt to create that fostering community through a Central Business Districts (CBD). A CBD seems like a great idea. Get everyone together in the same area and foster innovation and production. We can all influence each other and work towards a greater future. And then at the end of the day, we can all get in our cars for the commute home and get stuck in traffic! Oh wait…the auto-oriented nature shoots us in our foot. So, maybe zoning isn’t that great after all…

Zoning has a dirty history that has, and continues to, perpetuate racial and economic segregation. “As African Americans moved north and west en masse as part of the Great Migration that surrounded the First and Second World Wars, the practice of strictly downzoning affluent White residential area while relegating affordable housing to the worst parts of town would also spread, stripping the poor of their right to move to opportunity,” (85).

But zoning disguises its segregation inclinations as the buzzword phrases of ‘maintaining a community’ or ‘keeping character.’ Gray explains: “Through regulations like large minimum lot sizes, apartment bans, or restrictions on manufactured housing, communities often weaponize zoning to keep the poor out of those neighborhoods and suburbs with the best access to jobs or highest quality schools,” (96). Towns and neighborhoods make it essentially impossible for non-rich people to buy or build anything. It’s a way to create a gated community without building a fence.

Zoning also pushes cities to be less efficient. Looking at some numbers, Gray explains that a city needs at least 7 dwelling units per acre to make it worth it for the bare minimum of a public transit network: a bus that stops every 30 minutes. For better service (bus rapid transit or light rail service), the city needs about 15 dwelling units per acre. For context, a single family detached residential district allows a maximum 5 dwelling units per acre. Cities are mostly made up of this type of residential zoning, which shows how zoning creates high barriers for efficient (albeit, any) public transportation.

In short, cities need to be able to organically grow. That’s how they build that ‘charm’ that I have talked about before. In theory, zoning stands as an outline for that growth, but in practice, zoning stifles that growth and turns cities into an ugly collage. There is still room for localized use designations (don’t put a glue factory next to an elementary school). A case by case scenario would (and should) work for that. But those are obvious. And, they’re objectively going to promote a better urban environment, so no one is going to fight that. So, do we need zoning administrators for that?

Nah! We don’t need the planners! Heck ‘em! Whoa, not so fast. Planners still need to exist, Gray argues, but they just need to lay down a framework of mobility (streets) and infrastructure (sanitary and transit) that promotes and supports growth. Planners can also work as meditators, helping to guide people through specific planning issues (again, case by case). There's not an obvious or direct solution to all of this, but there’s certainly a direction that we want to go.

I’m not a socialist, but this solution in Paris seems like the right idea to build a healthy urban density and diversity. The government is buying and managing properties within the city to insure that lower income families (who are the workers that keep the city functioning) can live in different parts of the city. It’s a beautiful thing when different walks of live can come together and live harmoniously. Maybe that’s why Paris is called the City of Lights - they’re proud to shed a light on their equitable, diverse city to the rest of the world.

Manufactured Charm

Vail, CO is fun. More specifically, I really enjoyed Vail Village. It’s a cute town. It’s a charming town. It reminds me of Disney World. I’m not a Disney Adult, but I always enjoy a trip to the Mouse House. There’s a certain charm there. The stories come alive through the characters and immersive buildings. Dare I say that it’s magical. But, it also feels plastic. You know that its manufactured. There’s a veil to it all. It’s a bit like a stage set. It’s manufactured charm.

To a certain extent, Vail, Colorado feels the same way. Unlike Disney World, the town is a fully functional town. All the buildings are real. There’s no hidden trap door to hide the garbage truck or some network of back alleys to hide the food services. But Vail still feels fake. Developed in the late 1960s, Vail was built and designed after the alpine towns of the Swiss alps. The pedestrian focused streets are lined with different imitations of small scale Swiss chalets.

Vail Village (taken from Vail.com)

A lot of towns in the West have history. Look at the mining town-turned-high end ski resort of Park City, UT or Telluride, CO. Even look at Aspen, CO or Jackson Hole, WY! You get the point…Vail is different. It was founded on the principle of being something else. It was built as a replica. As a copy paste. And, as a result, it doesn’t have a very rich history. Now, rich history usually means charm (look at basically any part of Europe). So, if you do a little thought experiment, lack of rich history would probably mean lack of charm right?

But, Vail does have charm! I really enjoy the downtown (and that’s not just because I like skiing). I’d like to think I have a decent read on a quality neighborhood. So, I’ve been trying to figure out why I like Vail so much even though I know its manufactured charm. Perhaps because it accepts its identity. It doesn’t shy away from who it is. It knows it’s mimicking something else. And the scale is great. Super walkable and intimate. I guess the question becomes: when does Vail has create its own history and charm?

Tree Studios

Just imagine:

Walking down the streets of River North in Chicago, you feel swallowed by a sea of metal and glass skyscrapers.  Looking down the block, you see a break in the wall.  Who is offering that view of the sky?  A low-rise brick building is the answer. It’s a thing of beauty.  It’s elegant and thoughtful.  It’s a breath of fresh air in the concrete jungle.  It’s the Tree Studios on State St.

Sounds of champagne bottles popping, haunting aroma of fresh coffee, and perfectly framed scenes of window shopping greet you on the sidewalk.  The cast iron detailing of the first floor facade is reminiscent of the Louis Sullivan-designed Carson Pirie Scott building, just a few blocks down State St.  The roman brick at the second floor provides a warm contrast to the first floor ornamentation.  Above, the chimneys reach out beyond the roof line, projecting symbols of domesticity and hearth.  The lush, green courtyard behind beacons to be celebrated. It’s a well-mannered building, unassuming in its elegance and unrelenting in its charm.

Tree Studios, Image Courtesy of Friedman Properties

Following the 1893 World’s Fair, Judge Lambert and Anne Tree hoped to entice artists (particularly European ones) back to Chicago.  They lived in a mansion at 94 Cass St (what is now Wabash Ave), and they enlisted Parfitt Brothers, an architecture firm based out of Brooklyn, NY to help them build a community in their backyard.

The English Queen Anne main building, running along State St, was built in 1894.  By 1912 and 1913, the English Arts & Crafts annexes (the additional buildings to the north and south) were finished, creating a U-shaped courtyard in the back. (My understanding is that the mansion was on the east portion of the block, but has since been replaced by the Medinah Temple.) Also, the comical irony of a Chicago-based couple attempting to lure people back to their city by hiring a New York based architect to design an English style building cannot be ignored. But, so goes the classic story of wealthy people trying to show how wealthy they are and thinking everyone else cares about how much wealth they have. Anywho, all of that aside, the end result is, like I said, a thing of beauty.

Nestled in River North, which is at times an odd combination of commercial skyscrapers and surface parking lots, Tree Studios is a treat. The neighborhood is truly an urban setting - buildings are eclectic in form, function, and scale. High rises welcome office workers, condo owners, and apartment renters. Mid risers host big box stores, street level retail, and a collage of restaurants (we’re talkin’ Michelin star Spiaggia, T.G.I. Fridays, and everything in between ).

Exploring the context, you stumble across a historic single family home that is unwavering in its commitment to withstand the test of time (although, those survival stories usually involve a transition to a museum or retail). You hear the “L” rumbling past old industrial warehouses that have been chopped up into “sexy” industrial loft offices. You see a movie theatre sitting next to a boutique jeweler. A church, a university, and a luxury car dealership create a motley corner - just a few blocks from your newfound favorite building.

Tree Studios, Image Courtesy of Friedman Properties

With a story of neglected use and maintenance, the buildings of Tree Studios have been heroically restored and brought back to life (by Friedman Properties). It’s a great tale of old meets new. Sweetgreen and Framebridge, trendy companies of the 21st century, have found a home with remarkable history. But, the building is much more than its retail tenants. It continues to promote a creative community, with many studios occupied in the upper levels by painters, sculptors, designers, and more.

Just like different artists sharing studio space, distinctive buildings juxtaposed together create a world of contrast and harmony. Tree Studios is a testament to how that in-between condition can forge a thing of beauty in the city. And, it’s a reminder for all of us to keep searching for that.