polis: a collective blog about cities worldwide
design

Tubist Trompe-l’Oeil

by Pierre Nadilon

My first encounter with Tubism was at a house party with a large poster of the London Underground hanging in the living room. Looking closer, I found that the Tube stations had names like Semantics, Leonardo Da Vinci and Fordism. The map was full of intriguing references that served as perfect conversation-starters for the many guests who gathered around it that night.

Secret Gardens of Greater Paris

by Alex Schafran

I imagine that most people, when confronted with the end of a two-year sojourn in the City of Lights, would make plans to visit the unvisited museum (Louvre, check), finally scale the Eiffel Tower (soon, surely), eat the uneaten or discover the exhibition that will change history. The 19th century romantic in me feels pulled to Benjamin's passages and Baudelaire's promenades, even if they're overdone as subjects of literary flânerie. Harvey's Sacre Coeur is part of my daily run, part of life on the Hausmannian edges between the gentrified and the gentrifying.

Community Aesthetics in Heliópolis

by Teresa García Alcaraz

Heliópolis is known as one of the most densely populated neighborhoods in São Paulo, with 120,000 people living in an area of less than one square mile. Legend has it that architect Ruy Ohtake once called it the ugliest part of the city, prompting members of the UNAS community organization to ask him to help make it beautiful.

Reversing the Panopticon

by Dieter Zinnbauer

The infamous Panopticon, conceived by Jeremy Bentham and thoroughly analyzed by Michel Foucault, is emblematic of architecture's role in surveillance and discipline — a blueprint for the perfect prison. It allows a watchman to observe inmates without them being able to tell whether anyone is actually watching them, generating an eerie sense of being monitored all the time.

Injustices of Informality

by Andrew Wade

William Hunter is an architect, urban designer and teaching fellow at The Bartlett Development Planning Unit (DPU), University College London. I recently caught up with him to discuss his new book, "Contested Urbanism in Dharavi: Writings and Projects for the Resilient City," a collaboration with Camillo Boano and Caroline Newton. Dharavi — perhaps the most famous informal settlement in the world — has featured on Polis many times and we're excited to return via William's experience.

A Collective Approach to Local Entrepreneurship

by Mark Minkjan



Locally owned shops were once cornerstones for products, services, employment and social networks in urban neighborhoods. The rise of automobiles, franchises and Internet shopping has forced many out of business or into niches that don't correspond with the needs of their local communities. However, in some cities they're seeing a resurgence due to creative initiatives that link grassroots activism with public- and private-sector resources.


The Van der Pek neighborhood in Amsterdam. Source: Design as Politics

In February, a special kind of shop opened in Amsterdam's Van der Pek neighborhood. It is called the Wisselwinkel, meaning "shift shop," because it hosts a new local entrepreneur every six months. If this trial period goes well, the entrepreneur receives assistance in setting up a more permanent location in the neighborhood.

Louise Went. Source: Amsterdam Museum
The Wisselwinkel is the brainchild of a young activist collective named Mama Louise. Their identity is a tribute to Louise Went, an influential advocate for public health and social justice in Amsterdam's working-class neighborhoods during the 1920s. Mama Louise organizes D.I.Y. summer markets and other events where people make things, give performances and exchange goods and services. The events strengthen community ties and offer opportunities for entrepreneurial residents to earn income. Mama Louise is now working to create a more permanent platform, and the Wisselwinkel is the first tangible result.

The Van der Pek neighborhood is absorbed in a process of gentrification and large-scale restructuring that threatens to displace many current residents. To help counter displacement, Mama Louise invests in people. Their aim is to uncover the neighborhood's hidden entrepreneurs, connecting local skills with local needs.

There are several conditions for entrepreneurs who wish to set up shop in the Wisselwinkel. They have to live in the neighborhood and show a desire to start or formalize a business. Once running, the shop has to be open at least five days a week and adopt high-quality marketing collateral developed with help from Mama Louise.


Inside the Wisselwinkel.

Designed and constructed by MOS Collectief, the Wisselwinkel interior is flexible so that different startups can use it according to their needs. Along with the storefront, entrepreneurs receive practical guidance in connecting with support organizations, fulfilling legal requirements and attracting customers. Mama Louise also provides a website, a logo, canvas bags and other material with help from Waarmakers design.


Source: Waarmakers

After six months, the entrepreneur moves out of the Wisselwinkel to make room for the next venture. Local housing association Ymere helps viable startups find another location in the neighborhood. Associations like Ymere — which are no longer public entities in the Netherlands — are often criticized as focused primarily on maximizing real estate profits. However, Mama Louise found that Ymere staff took to their initiative with entusiasm rooted in genuine care for resident wellbeing.

In working with Ymere, Mama Louise might be criticized for putting low-income entrepreneurs at risk of taking on insurmountable debt after the trial period. However, they help the Wisselwinkel's tenants become self-sustaining and attract investment. They channel the resources of organizations with a stake in Van der Pek's future toward opportunities for current residents to successfully weather gentrification.


Screenshot of the Wisselwinkel website customized for Rathu's bike shop.

The first entrepreneur in the Wisselwinkel is Rathu Gunawardana, who started out repairing bicycles for friends and neighbors in his backyard. Mama Louise supported his proposal because there was no bike-repair shop in the neighborhood and residents have expressed strong interest in having one. Through the city's Department of Work and Income, Rathu received a micro-loan for welfare recipients interested in starting their own businesses.

Business has boomed for Rathu, who also sells restored bikes and gear. After a few days, his shop became a popular gathering place for local cycling enthusiasts. A teenage boy asked to help and now takes care of smaller repairs. Other informal entrepreneurs have started visiting the Wisselwinkel to apply for six-month residencies and offer their goods and services.

Mama Louise is now building a map of formal and informal businesses in the neighborhood. Upcoming projects include a salon run cooperatively by local hair dressers, masseurs and other service providers. Each initiative is focused on developing commerce, employment, amenities and social ties to assure that current residents share in the benefits of gentrification.

Mark Minkjan is an urban geographer who works as an independent researcher and writer. He is part of CITIES and Failed Architecture, and runs City Breaths.

Credits: Photos by Mark Minkjan unless otherwise noted in the captions.

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Brasilia’s Uneven Development

by Jordi Sánchez-Cuenca

The city of Brasilia took shape on a relatively isolated plot of open land in 1956, becoming the capital of Brazil in 1960. The city was planned by Lucio Costa, winner of a competition called by President Juscelino Kubitschek to fulfill an 1891 constitutional mandate to move the capital from Rio de Janeiro to a location at the center of the country. Oscar Niemeyer was the principal architect, and Roberto Burle Marx was the principal landscape designer.


Bird- or airplane-like form of Brasilia, Brazil.


Original city plan by Lucio Costa. Source: Jader Resende

Brasilia was built according to plan, with few modifications. It is a modernist dream come true, a gigantic piece of land art. It is now one of UNESCO's World Heritage Sites, and the municipal government invests in keeping its monuments in good condition. Brasilia was designed for automobile transport, with no traffic lights and few sidewalks in the center. Avenues are massive to prevent traffic jams.


Southern wing of the city — satellite view (above) and perspective (below).


Source: Arqpoli Urbano

As with other planned cities, Brasilia grew larger than predicted. It is now surrounded by smaller cities and settlements that provide cheap labor for the wealthy capital. Urban growth in the periphery did not follow a modernist plan. Most of these residential areas grew through land speculation and informal construction.


High-income Lago Sul neighborhood in central Brasilia.


Low-income Sol Nascente neighborhood in Ceilândia, 26 kilometers west of the capital.

Brasilia has the highest per capita income of Brazil's major cities. Its social disparities are spatially divided, with a wealthy center and impoverished outskirts. In Sol Nascente — one of the country's largest informal settlements according to census data from the Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics — garbage collection, sewage and healthcare are severely limited. And, as in many cities around the world, government neglect gives rise to illegal land markets and associated mafia activity.

Brasilia's metropolitan area demonstrates perhaps the sharpest possible contrast between state-controlled wealth at the core and informal poverty on the periphery.

Credits: Satellite images from Google Earth.

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New Life for Empty Lots in Zaragoza

by Teresa García Alcaraz

"Esto no es un solar" (this is not a lot) is a participatory design project reanimating abandoned lots in Zaragoza, Spain. The municipal government started the project in 2009 to clean up the historic center and reduce unemployment. Lead architects Patrizia di Monte and Ignacio Grávalos Lacambra have focused on collaboration with neighborhood residents in generating and realizing ideas for each space.



The project has since expanded beyond the historic center to 28 sites throughout the city. Each repurposed lot has a number and is plotted on a map, linking it with the others. In all, they make up 42,000 square meters of space transformed into many different kinds of community gathering places.


Plot 1, an urban garden that includes benches and parking for bikes. Source: todo por la praxis

The lots have become playgrounds, parchís boards, gardens, small woods, volleyball pitches, pingpong sites, pétanque courts and resting places for the elderly. They are all free of charge and freely accessible to all.


Plot 5, a playground with a giant parchís board painted on the ground. Source: esto no es un solar

The name "this is not a lot" encourages people to imagine what can happen in each space, proposing new projects and creating places that they care about. Anyone can post comments and ideas on the program blog to communicate with others in the community. Over 50 organizations — including schools, neighborhood groups and cultural centers — have participated in the program.


Workers with T-shirts that create playful sentences. Source: esto no es un solar

While building and painting the sites, workers wear T-shirts that display a single word from the program name. Together the shirts form random sentences like "un solar no es un solar" (a lot is not a lot), "esto es" (this is) or "un solar no es esto" (a lot is not this). The work becomes a community event that encourages people to meet their neighbors and feel a sense of ownership over the site.

At the same time, the program has run into problems with longterm maintenance and doesn't appear to be providing substantial employment. But if the municipal government is able to sustain adequate support, "this is not a lot" should continue to improve in aligning urban development with the wishes of local residents.

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Book Review: ‘Modernism’s Populist Architect’

by Cristiana Strava


Source: W.W. Norton & Company

Despite a lifelong commitment to modernist architecture, Edward Durell Stone (1902-1978) is often associated with the movement away from modernism toward decorative and neoclassical styles. It is rare to find detailed studies on the ideas behind his transition from stark modernist buildings like the MoMA in New York City to the "Romantic Modernism" of buildings like the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. A recent book by architectural historian Mary Ann Hunting comprehensively addresses this transition.

In the introduction we learn of Stone's childhood in Arkansas, followed by his Beaux Arts architectural education and European travels, during which he found inspiration in the Bauhaus and early modernism. Hunting sheds light on Stone's close friendship with Frank Lloyd Wright, and traces his career from "pioneering experimentations" with middle-class housing to contentious use of decorative elements often labelled "kitsch."


The American Embassy chancery in New Delhi, 1956. Source: Discover Diplomacy

After Stone completed the famous American Embassy chancery in New Delhi and the United States Pavilion for the 1958 International Exposition in Brussels, he steadily became notorious both as a wayward modernist and as a heavy drinker. Indeed, much of Hunting's book reads as a thoroughly researched biography that oscillates between presenting Stone's work through the prism of his personal life and vice-versa.


Colliers Magazine House, 1936. Source: Triangle Modernist Houses

Hunting places Stone's architecture within the economic and political climate of his day and shows how iconic designs like the Colliers and Goodyear homes were aimed at introducing modernism to middle-class America. After the Great Depression, the federal government saw home ownership as key to political stability and economic prosperity. According to Hunting, Stone was a fervent believer in educating people about the potential in modern architecture for building better homes at lower costs. Through popular magazines such as Colliers and Ladies' Home Journal, he sold scaled-down designs based on his more expensive commissions for $3 apiece.


Stanford University Medical Center, 1959. Source: Dwell

Stone managed to design and build on a scale rare for his time, securing lucrative commissions from companies like PepsiCo, Tupperware and Levitt & Sons. At the same time, many of his postwar buildings — including the Stanford University Medical Center and the Gallery of Modern Art at 2 Columbus Circle in Manhattan (known as the "Lollipop Building") — drew criticism for excessive repetition and ornamentation.

What is most valuable in Hunting's book is its examination of relationships between American modernism and middle-class consumption. She points out, "Stone deserves a very special place in the history of modernism, not for formalistic or aesthetic reasons, but for his relationship to the culture and the times." Through her research, we discover how Stone's desire to see modernism embraced by the masses began to place his work at odds with the more austere tenets of the movement.

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Sociology of Courtyard Design: A Conversation with Petr Ivanov

by Peter Sigrist

Petr Ivanov is carrying out ambitious research in his Moscow neighborhood. He and a group of young volunteers have combined Web technology with social surveys to gather input from residents of four tall buildings around a woeful courtyard. The survey results will inform a redesign project aimed at improving this public space.


Petr Ivanov, an independent researcher and activist from Moscow. Source: Varvara Tchumakova

Petr's neighborhood, Troparyovo-Nikulino, is a "sleeping district" in southwest Moscow, one of many apartment-block constellations from which masses of people commute to jobs in the city center. Much of the public space in these areas is plagued with poorly regulated construction, advertisement and vandalism. In addition to quality management, there's a pressing need for attentive design that goes beyond questionable improvements by local authorities (mainly limited to colorful recreation equipment). In the following interview, Petr discusses this situation and his approach to addressing it.




The research site, a housing complex at 38 Academic Anokhin Street. Source: Google Earth

Can you tell us about your current research on public space?

The goal of our project at 38 Academic Anokhin Street is to find out what improvements people would like to see in the territory around their homes. We went door to door to talk with residents and ask them to fill out a survey; if they declined, we asked if they could fill it out at a more convenient time and place it in one of the boxes we installed in each entranceway. Along with desired improvements, the surveys asked residents about how they use the courtyard, how they think others use it and what they view as appropriate and inappropriate use. We also collected demographic and historical information to add new dimensions to our understanding of the community.

Underground Map for Sprawling London

by Cristiana Strava


Yuri Suzuki's radio circuit map of the London Underground. Source: WIRED

On January 9, Google celebrated the 150th anniversary of the London Underground with a doodle spin-off of the system’s legendary map. Harry Beck’s iconic design is considered so revolutionary that Eric Hobsbawm called it “the most original work of avant-garde art in Britain between the wars.”


Harry Beck’s map of the London Underground. Source: V&A


Google doodle for the London Underground’s 150th anniversary. Source: Going Underground

Before Beck sketched the first version of the map, in 1931, visitors to London were easily overwhelmed by the city’s chaotic and seemingly endless sprawl.

“One may easily sail round England, or circumnavigate the globe,” wrote Ford Madox Ford in The Soul of London, originally published in 1905. “But not the most enthusiastic geographer ... ever memorised a map of London. Certainly no one ever walks around it. For England is a small island, the world is infinitesimal amongst the planets. But London is illimitable.”

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Critical Activist Design: A Conversation with Quilian Riano

by Andrew Wade


Quilian Riano presenting at the Center for Architecture in New York. Source: DSGN AGNC

Quilian Riano is the founding principal of DSGN AGNC (Design Agency), a research and design practice that operates through critical activism. He also founded the project #whOWNSpace. His current research focuses on the implementation of flexible and hybrid designs within challenging, multi-layered contexts. He seeks to re-imagine the structure and scope of design process. Polis recently sat down with Quilian to discuss the role of critical activism in his work and that of other innovative design practices.

You’ve described your interests as rooted in expanding the role of design and the designer in larger social and political contexts. What distinctions do you make between "design" and "activist design?" What kind of value is generated in activist design that makes it a necessary mode of practice?

I think that process is key — by that I mean the process by which design is generated and created, but also thinking of the outcomes as continuous processes. Architects are accustomed to studying the physical context, but we want to expand our process to engage with the economic, political and social dynamics of the places where we work.


Site of La Union Housing Co-Op in Facatativa, Columbia. Source: DSGN AGNC

Let me be specific about what that means. In Facatativa, Colombia, we are working with La Union Housing Co-Op on the design of 50 houses. Through research and conversations in the community, we found that the case involved not just those 50 houses but also widespread privatization around the Facatativa's periphery. We learned that a global network driven by the flower industry and companies that produce greenhouses has been privatizing large sections of the city. These complex economic and political processes are just as integral to the project's context as the landscape around the 50 houses. In response, we've organized a variety of design interventions — workshops, posters, movies, etc. — that highlight these conditions and create tools to help the local community influence them.

As for design, we're identifying the players and actions needed to create a longterm plan for the wellbeing of the community. We're designing adaptable housing within a solid framework, which residents can improve upon over time. With the help of a local lawyer and politician, we're looking to intervene in the system through which Colombia subsidizes public housing. We plan to help collectivize loans both for housing and for small business that could occupy flexible space within each building.


La Union masterplan (above) and renderings (below). Source: DSGN AGNC






You began writing about "critical activism" in your thesis at the Harvard Graduate School of Design in 2008. How has your understanding of the term evolved, and what are its key elements today?

Critical activism in design practice involves continuously assessing the political landscape of each project and working with vulnerable populations to remove injustices and resolve problems that threaten their wellbeing. Since leaving the GSD, I have been working with urban activists to fine-tune the concept in theory and practice. We've been particularly inspired by the critique, ideas and action associated with socio-praxis. We're also interested in relational aesthetics, tactical media, gizmology and radical cartography.

Many socio-praxis groups are questioning the role of the designer and artist in a society with decentralized and complex power structures. To understand this, it is helpful to think about the differences between the protests in Egypt and Occupy Wall Street. In Egypt it was clear that there was a space — Tahrir Square — where protests would take place, and a person — Hosni Mubarak — who people would protest against. In the United States it is not as simple. The Occupy Wall Street movement is relegated to occupying a symbol, as many of the banks are no longer on Wall Street. However, would the movement be as effective if it was called Occupy Midtown Banks? Probably not.


Graphic by Quilian Riano, based on a photo by Paula Segal, to illustrate laws broken when the New York Police Department closed Zuccotti Park during the Occupy protests. Source: #whOWNSpace

It is also curious that the occupation is not happening in Washington, D.C. There is a tacit understanding that D.C. no longer has all the power. Our decentralized government and power structure have created a situation in which we no longer know who to protest against. So we are left with the symbol.

In this context, the designer can become an activist when he or she engages the complexity of our political and economic system to begin to create some clarity. This approach is particularly important when looking at the city. So critical activism is about finding complex socio-political urban systems, researching them fully, producing maps and other visual tools, and then intervening strategically. Critical activism is a way to apply real design thinking — not just exercises from the Ivory Tower — toward empowering marginalized communities.


Maps of Privately-Owned Public Space and other forms of public space in New York City, including the organizations with decision-making power over these areas. Source: #whOWNSpace

How did DSGN AGNC and #whOWNSpace come about, and what vision do you have for their future development?

We started DSGN AGNC as a way of exploring critical activism. The first action I took with DSGN AGNC was a trip to Colombia. This led to "A City in Search of Good Fortune," an article for Places Journal on Buenaventura, one of the most contested and militarized urban areas in Colombia. We also met with the group of 50 families that make up La Union in Facatativa. In both cities we were struck by the privatization and lack of public space around the peripheries. In Facatativa, for example, people had to use the parking lot of Carrefour, a French mega-store, for celebrations and other gatherings.

When the Wall Street occupation began, a large part of the story was the physical space — Zuccotti Park — and its status as a Privately-Owned Public Space (POPS). Through #whOWNSpace, which was inspired by Occupy Wall Street, we wanted to better understand how privatization has changed the city. Through our research we've found that POPS are often not as public as they should be according to established legal guidelines. At 60 Wall Street, a POPS located down the street from Zuccotti Park, there is a rule that says "no excessive use of space." These are the type of things we need to question. How public are these spaces, what type of rules are being enforced and are they legal?


A Privately-Owned Public Space at Chase Manhattan Plaza in Manhattan. Source: #whOWNSpace

Ultimately, we see #whOWNSpace as a way to advocate for and produce urban spaces that are truly public. To us this means that space accommodates multiple uses, encouraging people to talk to their neighbors and find mutual understanding around political, economic and social issues — crucial preparation for collective action when needed.

Working on international projects, it can be easy to fall into the stereotypical role of self-ordained savior of the poor, present for a period of time, after which it is difficult to follow up and assure sustainable results. How do you approach design projects in other parts of the world when it is so challenging to gain a thorough understanding of the local context and enact meaningful, longterm change?

This is a hard question, but one that is important to address if the renewed interest in this type of work is to be sustainable — and, by the way, we do not claim to have THE answer. An approach that has been working for us is a combination of being there as much as possible, doing a lot of critical research, having strong partners on the ground and getting input from final users during the entire process. We also work to create designs that can be modified over time as community and ecological conditions change. Above all, it's about showing respect for the community you work with (in any location), understanding that you can't possibly have all the answers and bringing as many people into the process as possible.


A "Casas de la Esperanza" dwelling in La Prusia, Nicaragua. Source: DSGN AGNC

The project for a housing community in La Prusia, Nicaragua, has worked this way in collaboration with Estudio Teddy Cruz, landscape architect Simon Bussiere and the community group Casas de la Esperanza (Houses of Hope). We began with a series of visits that led to a simple, rule-based, flexible masterplan. We have since worked with local architects, community groups and residents to apply these rules according to conditions on the ground. The community has built 10 houses using our flexible masterplan and will build more as additional funds become available.

Who are some of the people and organizations whose work you admire?

There are many artists and architects experimenting with socio-praxis and political activism that I admire. Inspiring design practices include Recetas Urbanas, Not An Alternative, Jeanne Van Heeswijk, Estudio Teddy Cruz, Sorkin Studio and Cohabitation Strategies. Immigrant Movement International, commissioned by the Queens Museum of Art, is redefining the role of museums in urban neighborhoods. There are also community groups like CAAAV, Picture the Homeless and Organizing for Occupation, which for many years have been doing the hard work of organizing communities for action. These initiatives give us confidence in the effectiveness of integrating critical activism and design to bring about positive social change.

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Three Questions: Michael Murphy of MASS Design

by Andrew Wade

As part of the Polis Three Questions series, we interviewed Michael Murphy, executive director and co-founder of MASS Design Group. The not-for-profit firm's design for Butaro Hospital in Rwanda was a poetic argument for the merging of design and public health. Motivated by the idea that "Design is never neutral — it either helps or it hurts," MASS worked with Partners in Health on the project, which aims to mitigate the transmission of airborne disease. By approaching design holistically and seeking to make use of local materials and empower local communities, MASS demonstrates the potential social impact of design.


Butaro Hospital in Rwanda.

Can you tell us what you're particularly excited to be working on at the moment, and what lies ahead for you?

We have been working on a few projects in Haiti since a year after the earthquake that are exciting on several levels — both for the growth they bring to MASS as an organization and for their impact in community health. In particular, we have a center for cholera treatment currently under construction that continues our research in identifying the "direct" impacts of the built environment on our health. We have seen evidence of the incubation and transmission of tuberculosis due to poorly designed buildings, but cholera is really about a failed sanitary system — one that once infected can perpetuate outbreaks. To combat infection, our new cholera center will offer a micro-solution to wastewater treatment on site. We hope this inspires a dialogue about investment in better buildings and infrastructure as a health argument.

Also on the horizon in the coming year, we will be starting a few projects in southern Uganda which seek to address the problem of "brain drain," combating the large-scale emigration of skill capacity.


GHESKIO Cholera Treatment Center, during construction.


Rendering of the GHESKIO Tuberculosis Hospital.

What do you consider the most pressing issues we face as a society today, and how should we go about addressing them?

I think it’s becoming publicly evident that our poorly constructed built environment is an urgent and growing concern. As seen in rising sea levels, in Haiti’s 2010 earthquake, and most recently during Hurricane Sandy, cities are not built to absorb change and catastrophe. Buildings shouldn't exist simply as commodities; they need to be rethought and redesigned in such a way that keeps the residents’ health and safety in mind. The only way to achieve this is to invest more heavily in design research and in our infrastructure at both the local and national level. Our design schools need to reprioritize their emphasis, and new practice models need to be sponsored to offer market solutions to this serious global crisis.

What do you find inspiring?

I am inspired by entrepreneurs, tinkerers, designers who find a way to innovate within the calcified systems, while also maintaining a perspective of the entire system itself. I'm inspired by health innovators like Dr. Raj Panjabi of Tiyatien Health in Liberia and Josh Nesbit at Medic Mobile — both of whom are making a really incredible impact on public health.

I also met an amazing actor, Bryan Doerries, who runs an organization called Theater of War. He uses classical plays to help communities cope with tragedy and disaster, and his method of effecting change is completely unique.

I am in awe of material scientists and building experts like John Ochsendorf, and altruistic curators like Courtney Martin and John Cary inspire me daily with their belief in the sharing of ideas with the public. We all owe them a lot.

In terms of design and architecture, I have been in awe of TAM Associati in Italy, the genius of Francis Kéré and the work of TYIN in Norway.

Credits: Images from MASS Design.

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Rebuilding Community Heritage

by Anna Fogel


47th Street in Sunnyside Gardens, Queens. Source: QueensNYC

Emily Goldman is a preservationist and doctoral student in historic preservation at Cornell University. After completing her undergraduate studies in history at Harvard University, Emily pursued a master's in preservation planning at Cornell, working intensively on post-Katrina recovery in New Orleans. Her thesis focused on Sunnyside Gardens, a housing community (once home to Lewis Mumford) in Queens designed by Clarence Stein during the 1920s. Emily then worked for the Landmarks Preservation Commission in New York City, where she helped with Sunnyside's transition to a local historic district. Her current research is centered on Hillside Homes, a Stein community in the Bronx. She's exploring its cultural significance for the people who live there, along with lessons this holds for urban housing and preservation in other parts of the world. We're very grateful that she made time for an interview.


A Sunnyside community garden in 1926. Source: Astoria History

What sparked your interest in historic preservation?

I've always been drawn to history through hands-on contact with the built environment. Two international experiences in high school stand out: an archaeological dig in Greece and a masonry restoration project for a medieval church in France. During college I took part in two trips to the American South with a great professor, Tim McCarthy, to help rebuild churches damaged in racially motivated arson attacks. This experience highlighted the value of buildings in community resilience.


Rebuilding the Hayneville Church of Christ after an arson attack. Source: Harvard Gazette

How do you see the preservation of cultural heritage benefiting cities?

Although once considered almost a luxury, historic preservation has gained a lot of influence over the years and is now generally recognized as integral to urban governance. Many cities have preservation commissions that regulate all local landmarks, preventing demolition, overdevelopment and significant exterior changes. While this can seem like minutia, the larger concept is vital.


A historic brownstone in Brooklyn's Park Slope neighborhood. Source: New York Times

Historic buildings give local communities and visitors a quiet sense of history and continuity. In our rapidly changing world, especially in urban areas, it can be comforting to find structures that have endured for centuries. The beauty that comes with age and craftsmanship cannot be replicated.

Can you share some examples of impressive work in historic preservation?

Source: Treehugger
Ann Arbor's Historic District Commission has approved the installation of cobalt blue solar panels covering the gabled roof of a Victorian house. This is a great indicator of preservationists becoming more flexible when it comes to the greater public and environmental good. New Orleans residents have been working hard to restore and preserve the city's heritage after Katrina. When a historic section of Mid-City was selected as the site for a new V.A. hospital, the New Orleans Historic District Landmarks Commission along with New Orleans Area Habitat for Humanity and other supporters were able to save most of the significant architectural elements from hundreds of houses slated for demolition; now some can be rebuilt and parts reused elsewhere. Important preservation initiatives are happening all over the world, and for so many different reasons.


A building reconstructed after an earthquake in Bhadli, India. Source: ArchNet

Are there any international initiatives that particularly stand out?

Mary Norman Woods recently collaborated with Brinda Somaya, an inspiring architect from Mumbai, in helping the village of Bhadli rebuild after an earthquake. They worked directly with the villagers to reconstruct buildings, including original decorations, and Somaya donated materials like clay, paint, lime and mirror shards. This strikes me as a good example of international partnership. I'm also impressed with He Shuzhong and the Beijing Cultural Heritage Protection Center, as it's especially challenging to preserve the built environment in China's current political and economic climate.


Preservationist He Shuzhong (left) with a resident of Menglian, China. Source: The Beijinger

What are you most excited about working on at the moment?

I'm working on a project at Hillside Homes, the third garden community designed by Clarence Stein in New York City (the other two — Sunnyside and Phipps Garden — are next to each other in Queens).


Phipps Garden Apartments in Queens. Source: A. Richard Miller


A model of Hillside Homes in the Bronx. Source: "Toward New Towns for America"

Hillside was built in 1934 as low-income housing with durable brick architecture, built-in community amenities and interior courtyards. It has been revitalized by management and residents since its days as a haven for drug dealers in the 1980s. At the same time, there is room for improvements based on the original design that could make the development more comfortable and attractive. I'll be talking with residents in detail to understand how the place is working for them today. It's currently not a designated landmark but there's a good chance that it will be some day. I'd like to help ensure that, if formal preservation occurs, it is a positive change for the people who live there.

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Thomas Fisher on Disaster and Design



Coney Island after Hurricane Sandy. Source: New York Observer

“In science, almost all experiments happen in controlled laboratory settings, so that if an experiment fails — as they often do — no one gets hurt and we can learn from the failure in order to conduct a more successful experiment next time. In design, though, we have few laboratories. Design experiments, in contrast, often happen at full scale and in real time, with the potential for great harm and tremendous cost should they fail — as they sometimes do.

“Many of the human-generated disasters we ave witnessed in recent years show the catastrophic nature of design experiments gone awry. Never drilled oil wells over a mile underwater? Never allowed minimally regulated sub-prime mortgages? Never pumped so much carbon into the atmosphere before? No problem. We’ve already conducted those experiments on ourselves and we have learned just how destructive their failure can be.

“Because we don’t recognize these and other disasters as failed design experiments, we also don’t talk about the failures as scientists do theirs. Politicians call hearings, the media seeks blame, the public demand compensation, and those responsible for the failures point fingers at others, but too few of us try to understand the deeper systemic error from which many of these disasters arise.

“Instead we make make a few more laws, invest in some new technology, increase regulations as much as politically possible, maybe fire a few scapegoats, and hope that the disaster won’t happen again. But all to often, the thinking behind the catastrophe remains unchanged, and we go on conducting deadly experiments on ourselves and on our natural environment.”

— Thomas Fisher in Designing to Avoid Disaster: The Nature of Fracture-Critical Design, 2012

This is part of the Polis collection of quotes related to cities.

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Stars in Public Space

by Peter Sigrist


Paul Cole and a bunch of kooks in London. Source: Aerox

Urban environments interact with the style of each inhabitant in fascinating ways, at times showing the humanity of those whose aura is larger than life.


Dorothy Day and her granddaughter Martha Hennessy. Source: Mount Mercy University

I remember the excitement in visiting New York City after seeing it so many times in movies, magazines and music videos. The atmosphere is electric with the not-so-distant possibility of stumbling upon famous people in the streets.


Funkadelic. Source: Ololo

Celebrities become like us when we see the actual space they occupy, their way of interacting with others, and their personal style. While movie stars often dress down to go unnoticed, other famous people — writers, designers, scientists and the like — can usually play the role they’re known for without attracting too much attention.


Jean Aubert, architect and member of Utopie. Source: HTC Experiments

Photographers sometimes manage to capture famous people in their urban element. Whether staged or candid, these kinds of photos allow a star’s personality to shine within the architecture and activity around them.


Grace Kelly. Source: Copy Strands

They remind me of the many things I love about big cities, where anyone can drift along with the crowd or catch the eye of a photographer, becoming part of the infinite and ephemeral constellations that make up daily life.


Novelist Julie Otsuka. Source: Letterature Fest

Celebrity evokes ambition and conversation. It inspires, and draws inspiration from, the style of people in the streets. The energy in this relationship is inexhaustible.


Luis Buñuel with Jeanne Moreau (Source: Tout le Cine). Humphrey Bogart (Source: Stuarto).

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