rutgers university landscape architecture department

towards a new curriculum, image and breadth of work

material tectonics H*Comb 2011 + The Pulse 2010

Steve Jobs and landscape beauty

Of course, a broader definition of landscape. One that includes a generalization of human civilization. I recently read an NYT OP-ED, located here, on what Steve Jobs meant to society beyond technology and iEverything. The author linked the notion of Jobs' appreciation for the perfected aesthetic to multiple periods in architecture, planning and design where the focus was not on beauty as much as boring and ugly execution, a disregard for innovation and a lack of productive function.

The big idea is the connection between Jobs and a revived appreciation for beauty and excellence in product design and how this carried over to a societal shift in what we now see and demand around us in the landscape, our architecture and our communities.

Quite an interesting read.

a protest, the landscape and what goal?

The recent growth of the 'Occupy' movement and its lack of a decisive end goal made me think about what landscape is in relation to the concept of 'Occupy.' While the 'Occupy' movement wants to last for two months and have its participants develop their own desired outcome, there won't truly be a way to say it was successful when it ends. Yes, if it lasts two months, then it has been successful for lasting a second on the pop culture clock. But, with no goals set in the beginning, how do you evaluate its success at the end in more than one dimension?

This thinking can be attributed to landscape architecture. The 21st century has been and will continue to be full of complex problems that need to be addressed through a holistic, multi-dimensional approach. I'm thinking on the larger scale here, at the community, regional or city level where we are making decisions that will impact a great number of people. My recent Fulbright proposal looked into analyzing the success of post-industrial reuse by attributing a value to a diverse collection of landscape pieces. Imagine taking your definition of landscape and individually expanding every component that you considered to be part of landscape: environmental factors, cultural perceptions and community organization, needs and desires as well as physical infrastructure, economic structure (the job market, real estate market, land values, etc.) and the notion of beauty, then attribute a way to analyze each of these elements to observe how a proposed design will perform in relation to the existing condition.

Sure, this question was aimed at the post-industrial landscape and generated to identify why creatively inserting new uses into the landscape can be more successful than tearing down and starting from scratch, but it is widely applicable to design on the whole. If we want our landscapes to last the test of time and be successful in positively impacting those who they are designed for, then shouldn't goals be set at the beginning in order to evaluate at the end? If we want to evolve the definition of landscape architecture, then we should be able to show communities, people, developers, politicians, local governments and other consituent groups that what we do has successfully made a difference in bettering an existing landscape.

Does our work need defined goals to proove that is has actually done something? I'm sure, just like the 'Occupy' movement there will be multiple opinions and those that say art has an impact with no goals, it exists to make a difference by being. I belive otherwise, if we can't prove success then how do we actually say we've made a positive difference or a working solution to a complex problem?

on the reading list

About a week ago I read a short essay in the New Yorker titled, "Get Out of Town; has the celebration of cities gone too far?," by Nicholas Lemann. Lemann essentially makes the argument that while cities may certainly be forever praised, the suburban or out-of-city life won't simply disappear. There are qualities of the suburban and town-scale form and living that recall the age old American dream - privacy, a lawn, a peaceful place to raise a family, a small town and close knit community. Many of us, myself included, make the argument that the American dream is irrelevant in the 21st century and instead we will find fulfillment without green lawns, acres of private space and a dominant reliance on the car.

However, Lemann makes a point that many of us in younger generations don't think about when arguing for a revision of the American dream: where will we eventually want to raise a family? Many of us were born and raised in suburbs, played in ultra-wide streets and cul-de-sacs or perceive the notion of community based on our evolution in a suburban setting. We then grow fed up with the suburb and migrate to the city. However, at what point - if there is one for certain individuals - will those who left the suburbs eventually return?

Cities are cool. No doubt about it. They provide unique experiences at every turn of the corner, are home to a creative class, offer proximity for the development of unpredicted friendships, relationships and coversations and are simply fun to be in.

After reading Lemann's essay I have to admit that my admiration of the city and it's idiosyncrasies hasn't faded, though I have significantly re-thought my understanding of what suburban really means. Working on developing an opinion means coming to know all angles of an issue - this certainly includes a multi-generational analysis, which is quite hard to imagine unless you read or listen to the opinions of those from different generations.

Additional reading:

Elijah Anderson, "The Cosmopolitan Canopy: Race and Civility in Everyday Life"

Richard Florida, "The Rise of the Creative Class" and "The Great Reset"

Edward Glaser, "Triumph of the City"

John D. Kasarda/Greg Lindsay, "Aerotropolis"

Doug Saunders, "Arrival City"

James Russel, "The Agile City"

revisiting place

The notion of place and creating place is frequently discussed in design school and professional practice. Over the past 10 months I have had the opportunity to understand what it means to be "rooted" in place and what it means to actually live in "place." It is easy to get lost in the idea that when we design places people will only use them for a certain period of time and remember them as something special. We, myself included, may tend to get caught up in the idea that we are designing solely for the visitor and not for the permanent resident. (We are designing for ourselves, imagining how we would use the place and what we think is appropriate)

After a semester long seminar of reading about and stretching the discourse on place theory, I have rather confidently confirmed that what I thought I knew was far from what I actually know now.

When I think back to my understanding of place literature, I realize that I kept on relating place and the creation of place to either my comfort zone or my ideal travel destination or past experiences. These concepts address the local and the short-term but don't comprehensively address place as something long-term, adaptable and resilient to the forces of change. After living in Aspen, a place I initially thought was my comfort zone and my ideal travel destination for the past 10 months I have come to realize that if we want to create place as designers, we need to be able to leave our preconceived notions behind and listen to the existing uniqueness of a certain place.

I'm getting at the concept of how well designers can work outside of their scale, their region and their country - and the limitations we should consciously acknowledge. For instance, a lot of us from the NY/NJ area have a far different notion of what makes a place special than someone from an impoverished neighborhood in, say, Kansas. Further, if we expand this concept to designing an urban plaza in a Santiago, Chile neighborhood, then we will be pushed even further away from our understanding of culture and societal wants and needs.

So what's the big idea? If I came to Aspen as a designer working on a park, an open space network or a residence with the understanding I had prior to living here for 10 months, my design would have addressed the items I thought were important. It would not have addressed the seasonality, the ecology, the rhythm and frequency of tourism and, most importantly, would not have understood the needs of the long term, permanent residents. Sure, you are thinking, this is why we conduct site analysis (but, in reality, how well do we do that on average?) have public meetings and work with local consultants. And, sure, you are correct. But, how much of our final product is influenced by our initial vision, our feelings and our internal conception of beauty?

If we think about place theory and think about more than just what we like about where we grew up and where we have traveled and instead think about what place means for the people living in the area we are designing, then we have a better chance of designing something special. We may actually design place, and the people who use it every day may actually want to continue to use it and integrate it into their daily lives.

Ultimately, design has to include research and, dare I say, even science. But, don't get me wrong, if we forget art and beauty then we might as well not even put pen to paper in the first place. Design has to respond to context, and I believe that is the elementary framework for place making.

the standardization of cool

It's hard to doubt that vacant industrial architecture, stitched into the neglected post-industrial landscape, is at the top of the list of cool (especially in the context of the last decade).

The ease at which one can transform a vacant warehouse into an art studio or a music hall is extraordinary. These once average, or below average, landscapes (e.g. The High Line, The Allegheny River Front, Hudson River Piers) and utilitarian architecture (a vast majority of the East River waterfront) now provide spaces for a variety of uses, most of which tend to draw inspiration from the aged composition of industrial architecture and landscape. We don't have to look too far to see that this trend exists internationally - take the Ruhr Valley in Germany or Victoria Street in Melbourne, for example.

The question of how the post-industrial urban form can transform has certainly been answered, in numerous cities and by numerous cultures. Can we begin to infer, then, that the notion of what is cool in this regard has become standardized? Has the trend in post-industrial urban revitalization now simply become a predictable morphology?

It isn't too much of a stretch to guess where I'm taking this story:

Industry fades, industry vacates, the structures and landscape that remain are easily adaptable, artisans and counter culture moves in, the mood and culture of the neighborhood shifts, more people are attracted to it, the middle and upper class enjoy the art, enjoy the food and music, economically it makes sense to begin to cater to wealth, loft living inserts itself into the warehouses, small galleries are eventually pushed out, the chic culture grows, the neighborhood sees new structures built, playing off the industrial vibe.

Years later, just as industry fell and inspired a new aesthetic, the once new aesthetic is gentrified and the standardization of cool transforms into the standardization of loft living, high end galleries and a class of people far different from those who inspired the initial transformation. This is, of course, a strong generalization, but one that is valid in many ways and many contexts.

The next task for me is to prove myself wrong and adjust my theory to specifically 2011 and the future. To understand how this theory of the standardization of post-industrial urban morphology will prove incorrect in years to come.

While I do believe this pseudo-standardization theory to be true in many ways, in an America where the economy is still on crutches, how does post-industrial urban morphology change? What does gentrification begin to look like in an age of economic down turn? Do people want to live in chic industrial lofts or is there a new pattern of living desires. How does this relate to the booming economy of China or to the long standing transformed Ruhr Valley, where many of the families from the industrial culture remain and some industry still functions?

hypernature

The concept of hypernature is well illustrated in MVVA's Tear Drop Park. There is an amplification of "nature" and a purposeful composition of seemingly overwhelming "natural" elements in the park (i.e. the stone wall). Tear Drop pulls on natural elements of the region and intensively juxtaposes them with the contrasting urban vernacular. The sensory experience of walking through the park is powerful and the elements one perceives are, at first, out of place for the context of an urban stroll. However, it is this uniqueness that makes the park memorable and has the power to make people think outside the box, so to speak.

This idea of hypernature can make us think. The next question is can it make us act?

Note: I recently read 'Sustaining beauty. The performance of appearance' by Elizabeth Meyer from JOLA 2006 and was intrigued by her discussion on hypernature and how it relates to beauty and the sustainability discourse. I intend to delve more into the concepts covered in this paper in the near future.

effectiveness of work samples

Lately I have been evaluating the success of a series of work samples as opposed to an in depth portfolio. In many cases the best employment opportunities (subjectivity, noted) arise from ASLA Job Link, Archinect or even via Facebook. Many large firms are broadcasting their job openings to a very general, public audience and, thus, are receiving numerous applications. When 100 or 200+ applications come across the desk of whomever will be in charge of short listing applicants, the level of patience this person has to read through a full portfolio naturally decreases over time.

So, using this scenario as a basis for argument, I tend to favor a comprehensive series of work samples that highlight a few projects and a broad range of skills. However, in playing devil's advocate, the portfolio offers a much more in depth look at projects in terms of process and ability to think critically. A portfolio is undoubtedly more powerful in an interview setting when you have the chance to walk someone through your step by step process.

I suppose the big questions for rating the better option are: how powerful is your portfolio when you are not there to explain it? Conversely, how well can you sum up a project in a work sample to illustrate critical thinking and design ability?

And, how do you keep your portfolio under, say, 5mb?

urban park as opposite of refuge

The High Line was recently featured in a National Geographic article that spoke to the notion of a paradigm shift in urban parks. No longer does an urban park need to escape the vernacular of the city and turn its back on infrastructure and urban form. As we all know, this is a shift that will continue long after the hype of the High Line has faded. With so many vacant structures, dilapidated water fronts and under utilized warehouse districts amidst numerous cities around the world, the precedent set by the High Line is one that will constantly be examined and built upon.

I think the most exciting fact about this article is that adaptive reuse is being recognized and the concept of beauty is emerging in what was once ruin. Designers will undoubtedly play a major role in re-envisioning and reconstructing the urban form for years to come - so to see the success and popularity of the High Line continue to grow is only more motivation for what more can be done.

So, in the 21st century, is central park dead?

a reflection on perfection

Design school has, undeniably, conditioned us to strive for perfection in our work. Juries tend to respond best to the highest quality product, both graphically and conceptually. Top grades are preached as being given only to projects that achieve a certain level of perfection, where doing what is required will simply not suffice. When you add this idea to the fact that studios are a catalyst for competition, it is not surprising that we graduate with the attitude that perfection is the only option. (A quick footnote: we need to be trained in this manner)

Entering professional practice presents a different reality. When you are no longer a student pursuing individual goals, but instead a resource utilized to complete multiple projects efficiently and beautifully, the notion of perfection naturally shifts. Entry level work is initially centered on production and producing a multitude of products for a variety of projects (scale, context, client, design language, etc.). It is possible to put in long hours as one would in a studio in this scenario. However, the responsibilities of the professional designer evolve and you are called upon as more than just a production machine. When responsibilities become more integral to the overall success of a project and eventually multiple projects simultaneously, perfection as we have come to know it cannot be sustained.

Not all projects are competition entries, nor are all projects documented for professional awards. Projects need to be profitable and budgets need to be met. In this case, we have to revise our notion of perfection as has been conditioned in the realm of academics. This is difficult. But, just as we develop a mastery in many practical skills and better understand design, we more quickly achieve beautiful and well thought out concepts, graphics and built work.

Ultimately, the revision is not to settle for less but to push ourselves to continue to learn and, at times, relearn what we have previously been taught. Shifting from academia to professional practice means building upon experience and learning from those who have been in the profession for much longer. When we begin to depart from the idea of perfection (every line just right, every color in perfect harmony or contrast with the next, every tree and shrub perfectly placed) and just put pen to paper, so to speak, we may actually be achieving more beautiful and less restrained design.

Our profession is great in the fact that there is always room to perfect and perfect again - but it is even more interesting to manage that desire for perfection and design without inhibition.

I am interested to hear responses in the form of criticisms, agreements and outright disagreements.

tourism (in place)

After recently working on a master planning/ visioning project, I have been thinking more about what tourism actually means in relation to place. It is interesting to understand how the two can both help and hinder the progression of the other. If we design for tourism by better exposing and, at times, exploiting the components that create place, this artificiality can deconstruct the exact elements that make it attractive initially. I think the goal is to achieve a mutual balance between generating economic gain through tourism (when a viable option) and maintaining the true character of the people and landscape.

Otherwise we create fabrications of reality that cater to the specific needs and desires of the tourism market/ demographic they attempt to attract. Then years down the road the people that originally made the place special and desirous are long gone and all that is left is a paper thin image of a past reality.

managing complexity

"The Checklist Manifesto" is a must read. Atul Gawande explains the matter of extreme complexity in contemporary life and offers the checklist as a tool to better manage it.

I particularly like this book because the concept is not applicable to a single profession - it is versatile and can benefit nearly anyone or any task. The checklist is not an elementary step by step how to guide, but instead a comprehensive solution that insures critical tasks are met for any endeavor.

/comments+reviews welcome

catalysts

I recently attended the EPA's webinar about brownfields as catalysts for successful and innovative area wide planning efforts. You can learn more about the 23 pilot projects and respective communities at NALGEP and from the EPA.

The concept of adaptively reusing brownfields is something that will prove to be more and more important as we continue to understand shrinking cities and urban redevelopment. What's more interesting, and highlighted in the brownfield area wide planning pilot, is the idea of utilizing adaptive reuse or redevelopment to spawn community revitalization. This methodology seeks to look further than just site specific reuse and, instead, understand how entire neighborhood's and communities can reap the benefits of transforming a vacant, under utilized landscape.

This basic principle identifies the post-industrial landscape as multi-dimensional and able to plug into the surrounding landscape in numerous ways. It is this notion that opens the door for discussing adaptive reuse as it relates to area wide planning. Since there are so many different potential reuse scenarios for any given post-industrial site or region it is possible to think of how many different benefits these scenarios can have for the local people and landscape. Furthermore, it will be the ability to understand and build upon precedent cases of successful brownfield reuse and learn about the successful components of each project.

A disclaimer: This is only a fraction of the complexity that engulfs the post-industrial landscape. This idea spawns from a more pragmatic vantage point and does not even begin to address the theoretical constructs that reside within the realm adaptive reuse and the manipulation of cultural landscapes and infrastructural identities. However, in cities like Cleveland and Detroit, and the opposite end of the spectrum, the Brooklyn Waterfront and the current and proposed development of the Highline, it will be the reuse, redevelopment and re-integration of post-industrial sites, neighborhood's and culture into an ever changing landscape dynamic that will be an arena of innovation.

There is much to learn and there is no doubt that we will continue to look towards the vacancies of urban America as the catalysts for regrowth and transformation.

rooted

Working in different contexts and understanding vernacular landscapes other than where we grew up is undoubtedly difficult. We talk a lot about sense of place and the concept of being rooted in a place. It makes me wonder if as designers we are more apt to rooting ourselves in place than the average person, or vice versa? We are trained to analyze and interpret place in more perceptive manner, but is it possible to understand the idiosyncratic elements of landscape foreign to our subconscious self? Just because we may be able to understand place more effectively, or know what components to analyze, does it mean that we actually can design well for it?

The landscape that shaped our being as children is better understood than a romantic European park or an Asian garden (from the perspective of an American landscape architect). If we extrapolate that concept out to a broader scale, to say, city wide or regional, how long would it take to truly understand a city or a region that is foreign to us? How does this impact our design decisions and the legitimacy/ effectiveness of proposed alterations to existing landscape infrastructure?

How important is it to learn about the invisible landscape processes versus the physical, economic and social landscape processes? Geospatial data, on site surveying, economic analysis and demographic data can all be effective in telling the story about foreign physical landscapes, but is there anything that can supplement rootedness in understanding what can't be seen?

natural architecture

There is an interesting article from designboom.com that reflects on the notion of natural architecture, a movement that seeks to reconnect architecture with nature. The article speaks to the work of Alessandro Rocca, who published 'Natural Architecture' in 2006. The concept behind natural architecture expands on the land art movement and ultimately seeks to merge humanity and the environment. It challenges the standard concept of architecture, to create shelter from nature and instead seeks to embrace nature in shelter.

It seems to me that natural architecture is simply a synonym for landscape architecture. In fact, I would challenge this "architectural" movement and insist that as landscape architects, we strive to design within the constructs of natural systems and bring people closer to the idea of nature.

Agree, disagree, agree to disagree?

decentralized

Is there a place for the notion of central park in a 21st century fringe? In a sprawled, disconnected landscape, the concept of nodal and multimodal infrastructure is one proposed design intervention. Spatially, this would look at structuring nodes in areas of existing infrastructure and access to potential or existing mass transit. In this scenario, the spatial configuration of open space would develop into a series of networks and decentralized parks that connect nodes together. Thus, one must ask, is a central community park part of the phased out 20th century American dream?

Moreover, is decentralization actually a viable remedy to the plague of sprawl? To support this argument I would ask the following question: if we seek to reconfigure a sprawled fringe landscape by centralizing development in a single town center, what happens to the scattered development far outside of walking distance, or even biking distance? Have we done anything to reduce the daily vehicle miles traveled per person or the frequency of car use over walking or biking? (One stipulation of this conceptual spatial pattern is scale - a study area of a 1/4 or 1/2 square mile would need to be treated far differently than a study area of 16 square miles.) Instead of concentrating all commercial, retail and services in a single town center, what if we spread them out in a series of smaller satellite centers that offered similar basic amenities? Big box stores could still be concentrated in a larger hub where people could drive from further distances to reach, but ideally could walk, bike or carpool to a smaller satellite center for every day items.

This would be a process of strategic infill that could begin to connect seemingly disconnected suburban entities to each other and eventually to larger urban centers and cities. This revised pattern of development could have significant impact on open space networks, ecological systems and transportation options. Instead of focusing on simply preserving land we would be able to focus on integrating under utilized, disconnected open space parcels into a larger system.

So, decentralization to fix disconnection?

Revisiting LEED-Certified Projects

We recently looked at the number of LEED certified projects for each state (here)... but do those numbers actually tell us anything about what states are being the most progressive in sustainable design? Perhaps a more accurate measurement would include population data (2010 Census Data) to draw out different comparisons. Listed below are the Total Number of LEED-Certified Projects per 100 thousand residents of a given state.

LEED-Certified Projects per 100k People

Top 10

1. Vermont (5.91)

2. Oregon (5.72)

3. Arizona (5.04)

4. Illinois (5.00)

5. Colorado (4.91)

6. Alabama (4.65)

7. Washington (4.52)

8. Iowa (4.15)

9. Massachusetts (3.59)

10. Maine (3.39)

Bottom 10

50. Idaho (0.23)

49. Alaska (0.31)

48. Louisiana (0.35)

47. West Virgina (0.43)

46. North Dakota (0.45)

45. Oklahoma (0.53)

44. Mississippi (0.61)

43. Arkansas (0.63)

42. Kentucky (0.78)

41. Tennessee (1.17)

Interesting note- Washington DC (14.48), has far more LEED-Certified Projects than any state.

What can we derive from this? The "Top 10" has drastically changed between the two most recently discussed lists, and there are some definite regional-patterns shown in the Bottom 10. Whats this mean for designs? Do the LEED rating systems fail to effectively account for regional differences in their rating systems? Is it a cultural issue? A demographic issue?

country scale brownfield seminar

For those interested in brownfields and how they can be integrated into larger environmental, social, economic and cultural systems, there is an upcoming webinar worth looking at. The talk will focus on 23 pilot communities around the country that are affected by brownfields and the strategies they are developing to reuse them.

rethinking waste

These images are from a project looking at the potential for adaptively reusing a landfill site in Leonia, New Jersey. The rendering illustrates the overall concept of challenging the typical notion of waste as ugly and discarded. We designed multiple voids in the landscape that revealed the infrastructure of waste which supported the program of the park. These voids were termed scars, acting as a reminder that the waste we produce does not disappear. We wanted to construct compositions of physical, non-toxic decay that would change the way people interact with and understand waste. The plan called for a series of scars, each addressing a different component of the landfill system and the decomposition of waste products.

The design created a vision for a 21st century park; one that interacted with multiple urban systems and provided people with valuable open space and an educational tool for all age groups and demographics.

Sustainability: Who is LEEDing the nation?

LEED is a product of the United States Green Building Council (along with various other organizations), and is an internationally known method for rating sustainable design. The USGBC has developed numerous variations of the LEED rating system for different project types, but has offered a comprehensive list of every certified project in the United States. Here is how the States compare to one another.

LEED-Certified Projects by State

Top 10

1. California (977)

2. Texas (366)

3. Illinois (324)

4. Florida (308)

5. Washington (304)

6. New York (280)

7. Pennsylvania (277)

8. Colorado (247)

9. Massachusetts (235)

10. Georgia (230)

Bottom 10

50. North Dakota (3)

49. West Virginia (8)

48. Delaware (10)

47. Wyoming (12)

46. Alaska (15)

45. Louisiana (16)

44. South Dakota (17)

43. Rhode Island (18)

43. Mississippi (18)

41. Oklahoma (20)

Anything look surprising? More on this to come…

Source(s): http://www.usgbc.org/LEED/Project/CertifiedProjectList.aspx