Cartographic Rectification

A recent post at the Fresh Kills Park Blog showed the beauty and function of the process of map rectification in GIS, where a map and image can be combined by matching ground control points in the mapping system to points in the image. As it may be well known, I'm constantly fascinated by historic maps as a tool for understanding and creating modern moves in cities, and recently I expressed a desire to do this with a series of Portland maps.


:: image via Fresh Kills Park Blog

These maps aren't 100% accurate, as they rely on consistent base points to align common map features, and often lack in accuracy - but do provide a great overview of layers of history. An indication of the product is shown on the FKP site - a rectified map of the landfill site (above): "A 1907 map of the Fresh Kills area helped us understand a little more clearly the extent of filling in creeks and wetlands, and also the sense of private ownership that this land did, in fact, enjoy prior to the start of landfill operations–the entire site was entirely carved up into privately owned parcels."

In this case, it isn't a particularly unattainable venture, thanks to the New York Public Library beta version of their map rectifying tool (aka Warper) online: "...that allows users to digitally align or “rectify” historical maps from the NYPL collection with today’s maps and aerial photos. You can browse previously rectified maps or sign-up for an account to align your own and add it to the browse-able archive"

Check out a short video of the tool:


These processes bring to mind of course the wonderful Mannahatta Project by Eric Sanderson, which used rectified historical maps to provide a . I just finished devouring the book, so look for a post soon.

Floating Manhattan

Via Ptak Science Books, a proposal to float Manhattan into the adjacent Hudson River and seemingly into the Atlantic. "Robert Grosvenor had a delectable and memorable idea for a project in 1975: testing the sea-worthiness of Manhattan island. Grosvenor (b. 1937) was a well-known kinetic sculptor in Manhattan by the time of his detaching-Manhattan idea... "


:: image via Ptak

The project is somewhat satirical, and shown in some of the graphic play to reinforce the specifics of the proposal. More from Ptak: "I do though like the simplicity of the presentation of the project, right down to the "Step 2" of preparation, which was the umbilical snipping of the bedrock of Manhattan and the attachment of the "flotation collar", which, I guess, would allow it to be moved around so long as flotation devices were attached. "


:: image via Ptak

The project comes from what sounds like a fascinating book Unbuilt America, by Alison Sky and Michelle Stone -shows plans of buildings and monuments, that were planned but never built, throughout the first two centuries of the history of the United States. Thanks to @SpaceSyntaxGirl for the heads up on this one!

Thickened Waterfront from AALU

An email from Jorge Ayala from the AALU shows off some recent Landscape Urbanism work, in this case an academic workshop with a focus on designing a Contemporary Garden in Xi'an, China. I've included the full text from Jorge, and some of the images of the project that were sent.

Thickened Waterfront
AA Landscape Urbanism Garden Design
Xi’an, China



The parcel has a distinct character but a series of strategies will be applied in order to integrate the Thickened Waterfront into the general design.

WATERSCAPE STRATEGY
Along these lines, artificial topographies, rippled organizations of diverse water features and multiplicity of floating structures will be considered to turn the linear character of the parcel into a multi layered spatial domain. The diagrammatic approach towards the work with the material structures of the mini piers, retaining structures and engineering techniques will help to define a rich spatial condition which will help to add layers of experience to the arrival through the park to the waterfront.





THICKENED WATERFRONT
Spatial and three dimensional experiences: The arrival sequence into the Thickened Waterfront augments the sensations of the pedestrians or focalises the attention into strategically treated micro environments.

Several bands structure the proposal to create the different habitats and will be flexible to adjust to other proposals.



EDGE CONDITION
The work is based on an expanded idea of the edge, turning into a field of distributed spatial experience what otherwise is defined as a line or a rigid boundary of the water edge. The main idea would be to blur the contact of land-water seeking to encroach earth structures into the lagoon while bringing it inland in other areas.



MULTIPLYING EXPERIENCES
The pedestrian should be able to read and perceive a wide variety of material and spatial qualities in a compressed setting.


A series of individual ponds will host a diverse catalogue of conditions of light reflection, water depth, colour, planting, fauna and potentially human interaction (bathing, pudding pool).



These mosaics of water features will provide the medium for further interactions and enriched version of the ecologies within the park, incorporating expanded ideas of performance, spatial experience and environmental qualities.



Credits:
Thickened Waterfront
AA Landscape Urbanism Garden Design
Xi’an, China

Lead by:
AALU Tutors Eduardo Rico, Alfredo Ramirez
AALU Director Eva Castro

Design Team: Jorge Ayala, Hossein Kachabi

Paper Cities

Another great video from Digital Urban shows a snippet of 'Metropolis' a time-lapse film by Rob Carter showing the evolution of Charlotte, NC: "Made entirely from images printed on paper, the animation literally represents this sped up urban planners dream, but suggests the frailty of that dream, however concrete it may feel on the ground today. Ultimately the video continues the city development into an imagined hubristic future, of more and more skyscrapers and sports arenas and into a bleak environmental future. It is an extreme representation of the already serious water shortages that face many expanding American cities today; but this is less a warning, as much as a statement of our paper thin significance no matter how many monuments of steel, glass and concrete we build."

Metropolis by Rob Carter - Last 3 minutes from Rob Carter on Vimeo.

Retrofitting Suburbia

A nice long video from TEDx Atlanta featuring Ellen Dunham-Jones on Retrofitting Suburbia that "...takes you through retrofitted suburbia, transforming dead malls into buzzing downtown centers."

Sprawl Repair Kit

I was not terribly impressed by the collective productivity of last years Reburbia competition. There were highlights, but one was left wondering what all the fuss was about - and if these short, open-ended festivities were worth the attention. One exception in terms of ideas is the Urban Sprawl Repair Kit (via Inhabitat) by Galina Tahchieva offers a toolbox for transformation of ubiquitous fast-food restaurants, strip developments and big boxes that dot the suburban landscape.


:: image via Inhabitat

The proposal "...offers a simple set of infill techniques that are every bit as practical as they are effective at eliminating suburban sprawl. Using renewable technologies and energy-efficient practices, strip centers and big-box stores can be converted into solar-powered recycling centers, restaurant parking lots become mixed-use commercial centers, and McMansions are transformed into multi-resident senior housing."

While some of the visions are less convincing (such as the gas station infill), many are brilliant in their simplicity, such as the big box strip store, which drops new building forms along the street frontage to create a more inviting storefront and a central plaza, which is a lot more appealing within and from outside than it's predecessor. It also incorporates a significant densification of suburbia by layering additional GSF into the existing footprint.


:: image via Inhabitat

Another worthy example is the fast food restaurant, which is often non-descript and surrounded by a sea of parking. The addition of a street frontage (that is double-loaded) around the perimeters provides the ability for the larger building to 'anchor' a more mixed use of buildings and provide a more desirable face to the adjacent street.


:: image via Inhabitat

While the idea of how to transform these spaces is worthy of attention, there are some more broad-based urbanist questions that need to be addressed. As a site scale, there are options, but do the larger land-use, zoning, transportation, economic, and (sub)urban forces provide the context for these to be viable solutions? As the automobile becomes less prominent, we will need these tools... the next stage is to envision the larger, and much more difficult prospect of putting into motion the underlying mechanisms to make these realistic opportunities.

Food City

Via ArchDaily, this study by MVRDV, The Why Factory and Stroom Den Haag looks at urban farming in the relationship to global food supplies. As David Basulto adds: "...urban farming goes more in the direction of the last phrase of the video: “could it (urban farming) help bringing some agriculture into the cities to bring us closer to our food again?”.

:: via ArchDaily - Animation by Wieland Gouwens

Another video applied to Manhattan.

Bing Mapping

Since I was first introduced to Bing Maps, I've been quite intrigued by the Sim-Cityish axonometric views of the world that offers expanded possibilities for urban analyses. The architect of the system, Blaise Aguera y Arcas, shows off the features. (Via cityofsound)

Hydrological Infill

As an adjunct to the recent post on the abstract 'Blue Road' that attempts to restore in spirit hidden waterways, the inverse process (proposed, but thankfully not implemented) of river removal from in NYC, circa 1924 as a way to alleviate traffic congestion - via Gothamist: "In this issue of Popular Science, circa 1924, there's an article discussing New York's traffic problem — which at the time was reportedly causing the city to lose over $1M a day. One proposed solution: drain the East River and convert it into a 5-mile system accommodating roadways and the subway, while also providing parking spaces in garages and housing city centers."


:: image via Gothamist

It's shocking due to scale and prominence, but probably more shocking is how many rivers, streams, creeks, wetlands, and ponds were filled for development and progress in cities around the world. It seems apt to possibly take a cue from Venice or Amsterdam in embracing, rather than erasing, the natural (or often unnatural) water features as modes of transport and amenity. I could see a new mode of canoe commuters using these to avoid surface traffic snarls via Blue Highways.

Urban/Rural - Helvetia Part 1

Another recent piece 'Pushing the Limits' comes via the 'Slow Issue' of GOOD magazine and looks at the anti-growth policies of which we are well known regionally. It's a good piece about the current 'dialogue' about urban and rural reserves and relevant to the work we are doing for the 'Urban Edge' class.


:: image via GOOD

The idea of close-proximity farming at the urban-rural interface isn't exclusive to Portland, but it does often seems more evident due to the sharp distinction between the two land uses in our region. One major discussion point for growth has been the little pastoral enclave known as Helvetia, discussed in the article in terms of a local farm called La Finquita del Buho. Helvetia: "... is not so much a town as a hazy-bordered swath of bucolic paradise that looks like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, a Wendell Berry essay on sustainable agriculture or, at least, a TV commercial for a high-performance sedan. Two-lane country roads twist through lush hills, past browsing cattle and cozy farmsteads. Wheat farms dating back to the Swiss and German pioneers who settled the area in the 1850s stand next to boutique operations like La Finquita that supply heirloom tomatoes and organic kohlrabi to Portland’s rapidly expanding ranks of the food-obsessed. The whole place begs to be romanticized."


:: image via GOOD

The romantic (and economic) notions of the rural so juxtaposed with the urban is at the heart of the land-use policies that shape our region... and seems to benefit as well as be clouded by the eons of cultural baggage with hold in perceptions of city and farm. Helvetia is one of those disputed territories that make the discussions so interesting. One one hand it . How many cities the size of Portland can boast a beautiful agricultural resource so close to the urban center that hasn't been swallowed up with sprawl? As mentioned in GOOD: "Along with creating dense neighborhoods, encouraging mass-transit use, and irritating free-market zealots, the growth boundary saves farmland close to the city. The resulting proximity between country and town defines life here."

A quick measure via Google Earth shows that the center of Helvetia is about 12 miles (as the crow flies) from the Central Core:


:: image via Google Earth

As a poster child for anti-sprawl, Helvetia isn't a bad example of these policies at work - allowing for development in some areas and retention of the 'working landscape' in others. Protection of the farmland is one of the major drivers of Senate Bill 100 and the establishment of the Urban Growth Boundary that is required to be established by every municipality in the State of Oregon.

While limiting growth, this also is meant to provide for, not prohibit, opportunities for development by including a requirement to determine area to meet a 20-year supply of land for housing, industrial, commercial, and other uses and expanding the boundary accordingly. This is sometimes a vague and contentious discussion, so one way of guiding this is a recent shift to determining urban and rural reserves, or areas that will be slated for development or protection for up to 50 years. In the case of a place like Helvetia, which is only about one half mile from the UGB, this means the determination of a future for development, or the long-term retention of agricultural use and character.

The term 'slow-sprawl' is used, which I think is an apt term for the mechanism that continually expands the boundary... a state of tension that makes it impossible to determine the future. The recent planned version precludes Helvetia from the urban reserves, but there were some moments of tension when Hillsboro planned to swallow up the farmland for industrial expansion. While it's easy to take polarized sides in the argument, this distinction between economic development and protection of agricultural lands is a big deal. From GOOD:

"The land-grabbing suburb makes an almost inevitable villain in this kind of tale, but Hillsboro can make a good case for why it should grow. Around 1970—when Spencer Gates, the wheat farmer, was a kid—Hillsboro was a purely agricultural town with a population of about 15,000. Today, it is the fifth-largest city in the state, with about 90,000 people and sizeable Asian and Hispanic communities. Intel, the silicon-processor giant, built manufacturing and advanced research facilities here in the 1970s, and today employs more than 15,000 people in the area. Other tech, manufacturing, logistics, and research businesses piggyback on Intel’s massive presence. Any chance to expand on Hillsboro’s successes looks tempting in Oregon, a state currently afflicted with double-digit unemployment."

The arguments often pit 'economics' versus farming, but this tends to downplay the role that agriculture has in the State and regional economy of Oregon and Portland. The balance isn't just a question of livability, but what is more appropriate for the financial bottom line as well. Read more in-depth in the rest of the GOOD article, and stay tuned, as the discussion of course, still continues.

In Part II, i'm going to look at the progression of maps related to Helvetia and it's proximity to the Urban Growth Boundary, as well as how this area has been designated within this part of the urban-rural reserves determination process.

Picture Perfect

Check out the article in todays Oregonian authored by The Urbanophile himself Aaron Renn, entitled 'Picture Perfect Portland' explores if our fair city is worthy of the praise it receives on a regular basis. The verdict... sure, with a few caveats.


:: image via Oregon Live

Many of us in Portland don't have illusions of perfection regarding the function of our city, but also think that we may be doing some stuff right. This is echoed in Renn's column, where he mentions the idea of strategic planning related to growth and transportation, but also wonders aloud whether Portland may be the last in a line of urban areas - particularly those as small as Portland, that provide a model of contemporary urbanism: "Has there ever been a case in American history of a city as relatively small as Portland having the same sort of pervasive impact on the policy and the built environment of America? It is truly remarkable, shocking even, and something I dare to suggest will likely never happen again."

It is definitely interesting to think of cities as models and the relative absurdity of it. Many of the specific elements that make cities good or bad isn't necessary directly transferable to anywhere else, but are driven by the unique factors and context that shape them individually. For Portland, you can broadly dispute this with some of the specifics mentioned in the article: light rail, urban planning, bike culture, freeway removal, and a host of other methods that have 'worked' here. These make work elsewhere, but in whole they won't make another Portland. I think many of these are 'our' ideas, but I think a more appropriate response would be that we looked outside ourselves and took the initiative and tried some of these things out. And we also continue to do so - not content to rest on our laurels but with a desire to keep innovating. That doesn't mean that any of these in part of whole will actually work anywhere else:

"While too many places transplanted Portland's solutions into foreign and unsuitable soil, it's undeniable that Portland played a major role in making the nation respect cities again, seeing their potential with fresh eyes... Portland is, however, unique and impossible to replicate."

So copy us, no. Be inspired, yes. What Portland does well is understood and worthy of inspiring others - not in specific details, but rather in a strong desire to keep experimenting and making the city better. What the city doesn't do well is manifold - typically oriented towards giving folks that live here something to do and exploiting the concentration of intellectual creativity that exists. Or rather, the thing that draws folks to Portland is also our downfall, as we are over-run with folks coming for the dream but left making due on a shoestring when confronted with the economic drudgery that exists.

The idea of right city, right place, right time is interesting, as it is a description of all cities - because if you live somewhere, and want to continuing to live somewhere, then it is not productive to pine for the policies of Portland, but rather figure out what works in the place you want to be. Or, like many, if this is untenable, and you want to move here and jump on the wave - everyone is welcome, but be prepared, as the livability is a double-edge sword. Fortunately, and unfortunately as Renn mentions, "People move to Portland to move to Portland".

There is definitely an air of Portland being too livable, (thus creating this draw from practically anywhere for a number of reasons), as is evidenced by the large in-migration of people - particular young creatives. In landscape architecture, for instance, it is fascinating to see how many folks regularly want to come here to work, live, and study. It would be interesting to see how the actual in-migration numbers (those who actually move) stacks up with the number of folks who think of and explore moving to the region (those who want to and don't). I'd guess it's 1:10 (with no data to back this up, so I'll say based on personal experience of people I know looking to relocate). A quick dip of one toe in the waters of our flailing job market shows that it will be a challenge to come out here, particularly in certain (ok probably most) sectors.

I hate to say I've talked a good number of folks out of moving here, not for any reason beyond a caution that one may end up unemployed for a good time (especially in our current economic conditions). The example Renn uses of comparisons to Seattle in drawing and supporting 'actual' corporate businesses that are large employment centers may be our most poignant dichotomy. Our anti-corporate streak is well know with Keep Portland Weird and Stumptown over Starbucks localism. Some would say lack of diversity, land-use and anti-business policies drive and/or keep corporations out or growth at bay, but I'd say it's more distinctly more personal. It stems from our parochial, inward, localism that makes us want to live in our bubble rather than open our world to others that may have jobs or different opinions, but don't share our utopian idealism. While our mindset works for progressive planning and politics, we are our own worst enemy in this case of economic growth, as we hate those things that will make us grow too big (large corporations, industry, or playing the dirty political games it takes for maximizing growth). We want to stay small, nimble, and innovative - perhaps at the cost of becoming more successful at doing so. And hell, you can move here, live cheaply, and exist without everything figured out and co-exist with a ton of other smart people. That makes innovation a no-brainer.

While talking numbers is interesting, Renn hits the nail on the head in talking about 'deployment'... particularly in our inability to export the collective genius of our workforce and experience to other places in the world in order to keep ourselves working. While our policies and applications are not directly transferable, the brain power and folks at work creating and experimenting in our urban laboratory is. Does this become a viable economic development picture for us to hang our hat on, importing talent and exporting sustainability? I think so. The downturn impacted some of the most innovative sectors, particularly what I am most familiar with - design and construction. The talent for green building innovation is immense, but it seems that most firms locally fight for the scraps of local development versus taking a bigger picture view of what we can offer outside of the region. Some firms have leveraged the location and reputation into a national and world-wide reputation, but really, how many international architecture firms are located in Portland compared to how much relative innovation is happening here. I blame the city itself, which is comfortable, easy to live in, and difficult to leave. What's a little unemployment compared to access to the good things in life?

So I implore you out there in the world: Give us a call, it can be mutually beneficial for both of us... We have a lot to offer, and currently a lot of mouths to feed, smart folks looking to be deployed. We will outsource this innovation for a bit of an economy to support our greatest commodity, the people who live here.

Check out the full article, and read more:
:: Portland and the Limits of Urban Planning Policy (The Urbanophile)
:: Portland Creatives Find New Ways to Work Together (Good)

City Limits: Distance from the Center

As a follow-up to the exploration of the introduction to David Oates' book City Limits I wanted to write a bit about the first essay in the book, entitled 'Distance from the Center', which seems appropriate as a quick take on this thing we call the Urban Growth Boundary as well as the dynamic of inside versus outside. This short essay gets at the roots of contemporary urbanism by taking a measure of sorts for our planning, or at least an investigation as to whether the UGB is a mechanism for good (p.6):

"Since the inception of Oregon's land-use system in the 1970s, Portland has evolved from a decaying, lackluster provincial burg, into one of the nation's most successful and distinctive cities. One of the things I'd like to figure out, as I walk, is whether the UGB might be contributing to that success. And if so, how."


:: image via Boston.com

" A boundary is a lie that reveals truths. Sharp edges -- distinctions -- are indispensable to clear thinking. On a map, the UGB looks perfectly clear. It says we are separate. But in fact we are connected."


:: image via Free Association Design

Images of the edge reinforce this distinction with a defined inside and outside delineated in sharp clarity. It's easy to imagine this as a social contract - but it's as much a product of the political as the topographic and hydrologic. By walking the line the specificity is evident, and perhaps rooted in something as old as our need for prospect and refuge, a remnant from the evolutionary days on the African Savannah - as mentioned by Oates on p.7: "...I want to see how the UGB runs along the wooded hilltop just behind those houses. When I go up a cutbank to look close, I see second growth Douglas-fir crowding its whole life right up to the magic line. For one morning hour, this vivid parallel world hovers above the street... The human habitat, maybe, imprinted deep in an old part of the brain. Edge of the forest. Safety and a prospect of possible dangers, or dinners."


:: image via Prospect-Refuge Theory

Although rooted in evolutionary comfort, there is another face to the peri-urban, something many urban folks feel is mirrored in Oates comments of feeling 'unease' when far from the center. While the center seems a place, the boundary is a marker of the urban area's 'self' (p.8-9). "Distance from the center" implies that one place has a relation to other places: to the center first of all, the place of convergence, and also to the edge where intensities relax and then distinctly, cease. You can map any point by reference to center and circumference, metering the intesity, knowing where you're at: Edge or Downtown or in between... So 'distance from the center' is the physical and emotional yardstick of a place that is a place. Its center and edge are located, findable. And feelable, too; each has its paradoxical human meanings marked out as well. Emotional trade-offs, clarified by their relation to each other. This, not that. More connected (but crowded); more private (but isolated)."

The concept of a boundary assumes that there is a bit of homogeneity within the line, which a quick drive or stroll around the entirety of the urban area will quickly prove a challenge to pin down. It's all 'Portland' but is it different shades? Can we maintain individualism while adopting the share communal ideology that the structure of our urban area rests on? Oates relates this as a question of our linked humanity (p.10): "We cannot think a thought, speak our native tongue, drive down the street, or even stand there in our genes except by profound connectedness to the other humans who have built the species for a million years, body and mind, and who are doing so this very moment all around us."

"What we receive from others is, pretty much, everything. This implies reciprocal responsibility."

This responsibility is the root of what makes Portland tick. It's what allows Metro to govern and provide a net around many separate municipalities, as well as allow us to accept that there is good for one, and good for all, and that those are rarely the same thing. The application on-the ground leads to quirks like islands within the UGB that are outside while simultaneously inside and myriad other notable places. And they aren't theories and policies but places where people inhabit. And the line is merely a delineation, but not a specific container, as Oates mentions on p.11: "Ecologically, all places are connected. Economically, the life of Oregon flows into an out of Portland with little regard for the UGB. What's the line mean, after all? What's inside, what's out?"

To that end, as the ever shifting boundaries evolve, what is outside will become inside. But the distinction is perhaps less important than the result. From page 12, Oates reflects: "...it occurs to me that Portland could be riding that paradox of boundaries in a most productive way. 'Distance from the center' works for us. Here's how: By making Portland a center in its own right, we can be inside and outside at the same time."

The idea then is that it seems to work for us, and perhaps not for others. We are urban yet not too global to lose a feeling of togetherness. We aren't coastal, but are connected to the water. We are metropolitan and provincial at the same time. Thus the conclusion from page 13: "Portland may be building a place -- just far enough away, just close enough -- where meaningful edges and a defined center give us groundedness in place and expansiveness of spirit. That's our civic goals, our Portland commitments, argued and plotted endlessly: the good place, under the watchful view of snowy Mt. Hood, where we work on being human together."

City Limits: Where I Walked...

One of the inspirations for the Urban Edge is the book City Limits: Walking Portland's Boundary by Portland author David Oates. Aside from a great read, David is a fantastic guy and a friend. His recent work as part of the South Waterfront Artist-in-Residence program (which was led by artist Linda K. Johnson, whom also had a UGB installation of her own) showed his innate interest in both the urban in addition to the wild, nowhere more evident as in his essays on the boundary from this compilation of thoughts and voices.


:: image via Amazon

The first two essays in the book are worth some exploration. First, the introduction, entitled 'Where I Walked, What I Walked For' provides some motivation and background for the trip - providing an experiential context for the trip, or perhaps justification for getting on foot to experience the entire 260-mile trek around the edge, as mentioned in page 2: "I passed by berryfields and vineyards and orchards along this perimeter: housing on one side and edens purloinable on the other! O taste and see, said the scriptures, so I did. This made me well-disposed toward the entire Urban Growth Boundary project, despite its lumbering superstructure of laws and bureaus, planners and land-use hearings, disputes and wrangles, and to oversee it all, an entire extra layer of government the like of which does not elsewhere exist in these United States, called 'Metro' and hidden in plain site in North Portland..."

"...It is a crazy, going-forward teeter of hopefulness, this Portland."

The beauty of Oates journey isn't just the act of walking and documenting, but rather the fact that this came from a self-described 'non-planner' who didn't get too caught up on the details but rather explored and experienced with a minimum of baggage. His realization wasn't about a policy or a line, but rather, "We were working out how - and whether, to live together." Oates continues (p.2-3): "Our Boundary, both visible border and invisible symbol, is our attempt to agree on how to live: what trade-offs to make so that all (not just a few) can benefit. Oregon's planning scheme is a bit of urban utopianism, an optimistic attempt to tray and live a little better here in this blessed Northwest..."

This isn't to say Oates didn't have a knowledge of the structure, as evidenced in the text. His take really is even-handed (although I know his bias) and truly trying to understand less what the boundary is but moreso what it means as mentioned on p.3, "Portlanders are highly aware of it [UGB]. It's part of our identity... It has given Portland a pleasant and dynamic downtown, close-in neighborhoods that folks love to live in, pretty good public transit, and a fighting chance not to spread endlessly, meaninglessly, in every direction."

Thus the experience of living and not losing what is important is the point, versus the novelty of planning policy of innovative urban form. It's less about what it is than what it's not: (p.3) "We think the orchards, fields and vineyards of the Willamette Valley that have not been covered by tract housing will continue to make our lives richer. We hope to grow in and, in places, up...

"...To become richer in connections and cleverness - to get deeper - instead of wider, flatter, and shallower."

To rely on experience of walking in cities and spaces is historically relevant as a method of inquiry. The travels of the flaneur or the psychogeography of the Dérive or my favorite and more obscure idea of the Greek 'periegete' (mentioned in Placeways, by EV Walter, p.19) that describes a 'tour guide who led people around, giving commetaries on whatever was work seeing," and compiling written guides, known a a periegesis. Oates mentions inspiration of Lucy Lippard's 'Lure of the Local' (p.4): "One way to find ourselves is to walk the map, to think about how the land around us is being and has been used. Looking at land through nonexpert eyes, we can learn a lot."

A true understanding comes not from books or words, but from experiences - informed by a quest for knowledge. Oates mentions Douglas Kelbaugh and paraphrases such on p.4: "...all the theory and blueprints in the world mean little, in the achieving of a real city, without those invisible ingredients I thought about most often during my walk: that certain idealism, naive perhaps, that yearning and striving he names, from the Greek, arete," which for lack of a better term means 'excellence' or I think more appropriately 'purposeful'. Maybe that's the point - a fulfillment of purpose - not a utopian or planning ideal?

The counterpoint is that a lot of what Oates saw, and exists, on the boundary is sprawl, ticky-tack, garbage - or that much of the good and the bad 'on' the boundary would not be on the line for long - enveloped within the urban, no longer the rural. It's a line and a policy - but it's about real places and real people. Either way, it justs makes you want to walk and see - and perhaps translate this to others in a way half as witty as David does.

David included a number of other voices to augment his, which are captured in the volume - including writers, planners, government officials, and artists. I had an opportunity to walk a section of the UGB with David on his journey and it was a great experience to get into a mode of seeing and interacting with folks along the way - while picking our way through an appropriately named section of King City. My fascination with radio documentary at the time led me to record our visit along the edge, which I will try to do a final edit and get into a web-friendly format for distribution sometime in the future.

David also has a new book out entitled 'What We Love Will Save Us' (Kelson Books, 2009).

Representing Transects

Picking up on a couple of great posts on transect delineation over at FAD (and a lively discussion thread as well that is worth checking out), this idea continues to permeate the discussions around the Urban Edge.


:: image via CATS

Taking a different tack than the critique of the transect per se (of which there is plenty), I've been tooling around looking at ways to break out of the traditional modes of representation when showing the experience of the transect and the ability to communicate this to a viewer. As we know, the common transect has a simple expansion of the typical section cut technique. In a natural condition this slices through a number of ecosystems:


:: image via CATS

A common reference is this diagram that has become a touchstone for New Urbanist applied theory, outlining a generalized zoning diagram with their associated T-zones (transect zones):


:: image via CATS

The definition from the CATS site gives a quick idea of the concept of transect which borrows from the ecological concept: "A transect is a cut or path through part of the environment showing a range of different habitats. Biologists and ecologists use transects to study the many symbiotic elements that contribute to habitats where certain plants and animals thrive. Human beings also thrive in different habitats. Some people prefer urban centers and would suffer in a rural place, while others thrive in the rural or sub-urban zones. Before the automobile, American development patterns were walkable, and transects within towns and city neighborhoods revealed areas that were less urban and more urban in character. This urbanism could be analyzed as natural transects are analyzed."

The CATS site has a range of transect images that provide some good ideas for representation. The most simple, falling along the natural ecosystem transect comes from McHarg's Design with Nature, and is represented by more of a typical scaled sectional cut through a dune landscape. An interesting interpretation via the CATS site that sort of oversimplifies the work as anti-humanitarian: "McHarg’s brilliant analytical/ operational system never integrated the human habitat, which was simply relegated to wherever nature was least valuable. In this sense. it is a step backwards from the Geddes transect of a half-century earlier."


:: image via CATS

Another adaptation is from the transect done for an Regional Plan for Western New York State shows some of the precedents in representation and analysis, which are the seeds of modern transect studies: "A regional transect of natural conditions and existing thoroughfares, drawn in 1926 with compact towns and villages, is overlaid with the present SmartCode's three basic Community types in purple."


:: image via CATS

These were inspired by the more generalized earlier transect from planner Patrick Geddes - which is delineated with this more graphical 'Valley Section' showing a typical natural system overlaid with use zones showing, for lack of a better word, exploitation zones of the landscape section. I guess that's the step backwards we're talking about by not including overt humanity into the equation.


:: image via CATS

I find it fascinating that many of the concepts in the New Urbanist pantheon are 'borrowed' from ecology including transects, zones, quadrats, and such. It's also interesting that these are as much a graphical exercise as they are a planning one, with a very specific intent and bias from the drawings (show me a drawing that isn't biased in some way?). For instance the 'wedge' shape denotes relative usage of land: "The wedge shape of this naturalistic illustration signifies that the more urban Transect Zones, with their greater density, use less land per capita than the more rural zones."


:: image via CATS

To say that any of these drawings is merely inert is sort of laughable - as there's typically an agenda at work behind the scenes (literally behind the scenography of these graphics). That's not to say there's some nefariousness, as they are generalized stereotypes and tools for use in planning, and application of some of the more robust planning materials like SmartCode (more on this later). The more traditional vertical transect drawings start to look like panels in a cartoon, showing a typical American and European iteration of the panels:



:: images via CATS

There's some parallels with the idea of movement as captured in graphic novels, film storyboards, flip-books and the like. There is also a reference back to Chinese scrolls, where the entirety of a transect can be captured on a never-ending length of paper... at an appropriate scale could be new maps of territories.




:: images via CATS

One commentor on FAD alluded to this image from R.Crumb 'A Short History of America' (posted here on L+U) which is graphically a little too similar to the stylized transects above:


:: (click to enlarge) - image via R. Crumb

Check out the Center for Applied Transect Studies site for some more great info on the topic and some great historical graphic. More about this soon, as I'm continuing to look at how the transect (the generic or ecological term that is akin to section) is valuable in urban exploration, notation, and planning in the particular context of Portland's urban edge.

There's much to learn from this in terms of both technical application as well as marketing cachet, as it leads to a pretty compelling (albeit graphically utopian or manipulated) version of (new?) urbanism that many people respond favorably to. The real question is: Does this work on a City with an urban growth boundary, or does it need the more gradual filtering of density from sprawl to really accentuate the beauty of the transect? Do we skip over a few T-zones in this way or does the construct fall apart? Can this be captured in selected explorations of our urban edge?

How to represent a line, which is a place itself and a container for a place delineating in- and out, that is dynamic with flex and pull and change of weather as well as politics and economics? It's gonna be a fun ride.

Historic Depave Portland

As previously mentioned, the main drag along the Willamette was formerly a multi-lane highway named Harbor Drive, which was removed in the mid-1970's to make way for the current resident along the river, Tom McCall Waterfront Park.


:: image via Portland Mercury


:: image via Flickr - William200549

Text, from the article 'The Dead Freeway Society' in the Portland Mercury, outlines this paradigm shift in a decade from planning massive expansion to promotion of removal:

"The first freeway to dissolve was Harbor Drive. Built in 1942, the wide slab of asphalt ran over what is today Tom McCall Waterfront Park, now where tourists and idyllic children roam with ice cream, Barack Obama spoke, and once a year the Oregon Symphony shoots live cannons in a performance of the 1812 Overture. In the '50s and '60s, the freeway, streaming with big-finned cars, was featured on postcards promoting a modern Portland. By 1975, it was gone.

"There was a shift in local government in the late-'60s. It went from a good-old-boy network to a much younger generation of politicians," explains Ballestrem. Urban planning historian Gregory L. Thompson wrote that when one young politician arrived in Portland in 1973, the politico noted that everyone had a copy of anti-freeway handbook Rites of Way tucked into their hip pocket.

When the state began buying up land next to Harbor Drive to widen the waterfront freeway in 1968, a citizen alliance against the expansion found open ears at city hall and the governor's office. Old-school traffic engineers said closing the freeway would be a disaster, but Governor Tom McCall, Mayor Neil Goldschmidt, and County Commissioner Don Clark heard the citizens' opinion that most car traffic could be rerouted to the city's newly built freeways, like the I-5. Throughout the summer of '69, Portlanders organized "consciousness-raising picnics" to rally people against Harbor Drive. Three years later, a governor's task force declared that the low-traffic, 30-year-old road should be ripped out and replaced with a park."

While not one of the stellar park spaces in town, the park really acts as a front yard to downtown, and is also a major pedestrian throughfare, as well as a consistent field for festivals throughout the summer.


:: image via Friends for our Riverfront


:: image via Portland Ground


:: image via uyau

The results aren't half-bad for a former highway.

Ghost Highway: Mount Hood Freeway

It's fascinating to dig into some of the historical legacies that have existed throughout planning over time. Some seem like missed opportunities - while others show that perhaps sometimes cooler heads will prevail, and we think of the awfulness of what might have been. Nowhere in Portland's planning history is this more evident than the thankfully unbuilt Mount Hood Freeway, which would have literally chopped to bits the inner east side in the mid 1960s with a network of high capacity roadways.



It's also interesting to see the genesis of this idea, from none other than the infamous Robert Moses. From the Permatopia site on Dead Highways: "This map from the Portland Planning Division's 1966 development plan illustrates Robert Moses' vision for a city girdled by freeways. Red indicates existing freeways; green indicates freeways that were never built."


:: image via Willamette Week

From some older coverage on the WW site: "The story of the freeway's demise is a tale of urban America after World War II and a lesson in what distinguishes Portland from other West Coast cities. It gave us strong neighborhoods, proud schools and MAX. It cemented the region's commitment to ecology and the reputation of a brilliant political leader. The murder not only saved 1,750 households in Southeast Portland from the wrecking ball, it also established Portland's philosophy of urban livability-the idea that cities are for people, not just for commerce and cars."

It may be difficult to comprehend, but the slice of the Mount Hood Freeway would have edge along was is currently Clinton Street, one of the hip neighborhood commercial pocket in southeast. An portion of a map shows the dashed line slicing down this street.


:: image via Permatopia

And a view down current Clinton Street @ 26th:


:: image via Portlandize

Taking a cue from the planning wisdom at the time, Moses planned Portland for auto-dominated greatness. From the Portland Mercury:

"Sixty-six Septembers ago, a Portland city commissioner invited the powerful (and, these days, infamous) transportation planner Robert Moses to come to Rose City and write its road construction plan. Moses, a freeway mogul whose most lasting legacy is the massive byways slicing apart New York's boroughs, brought a team of men and holed up for two months in a downtown hotel. After exploring the city and crunching numbers, the men whipped up an 86-page blueprint for Portland's future.

It was in this plan that Portland was first divided by the inky lines that would eventually become I-205, I-84, I-5, I-405, and Highway 26. It was Moses' men who first drew the Fremont Bridge onto a photo of Portland. In white ink, they imagined the freeway to be a suspension bridge running across the river and down into the current Overlook neighborhood. But they also imagined a lot more.

To modernize and meet the demands of a growing economy and expanding population, back in 1943 Moses argued that Portland must surround itself with freeways—an inner ring carrying traffic through the city with another freeway ring encircling its outer limits."

The other part of the legacy that is visible is the dead end off- and on-ramps that show up along many of the stems of this future highway system... a reminder of what might have been.


:: image via Portland Mercury

More of this legacy: "People can drive past on Division or Clinton streets every day and never know it’s there. Indeed, it wouldn’t be there at all, if supporters of the Mount Hood Freeway had had their way. The diminutive Piccolo Park (Southeast 28th Avenue between Division and Clinton streets, 503-823-7529) cuts a grassy swath through a residential block. The land was acquired by the state in the 1970s for a freeway, which would have roared through this historic neighborhood, but the freeway planning faltered and in 1989 the parcel was turned into a charming city park."

If the benefits aren't obvious, a video from Streetfilms highlights the result, in a study on the neighborhood left behind, versus that which was destroyed through freeway expansions. "Clarence Eckerson Jr., takes us to Portland to see the results and posits that his own neighborhood in Brooklyn might have benefited from similar forethought during the planning phase of the Robert Moses-designed Brooklyn-Queens Expressway."

Historic Portland Maps: 1866 Portland Map

The last in this particular era of maps, this survey map highlights the tracing of ‘disappeared streams’ throughout the urban area, which requires research and layering of a number of historical maps onto the modern urban form. One map that has some interesting waterways is a Map of the City of Portland, Surveyed and drawn by order of the Common Council, By C.W. Burrage, City Surveyor, 1866.



This map traces a detailed route of Tanner Creek, the waterway that meandered through modern-day Downtown and Pearl District, through the Northwest Industrial area that was occupied by Couch Lake. The ‘lake’ which was mostly a fen, or wetland, is located in a parcel (marked J.H. Couch), but the boundaries are not delineated. There are some other maps that exist showing the boundaries, which will be layered in as well.



Another interesting waterway is along the east bank, originating in at the intersection of B & C Streets, at 5th Street. The modern location of this would be around the outfall of Sullivan’s Gulch (around the I-84/I-5 connection)… the forked creek meanders through the Central Eastside area, outletting at the Water Street at ‘J’ Street (presently Water at Oak – along the Eastbank Esplanade).



The other interesting feature was the location of the Lunatic Asylum Grounds in Southeast Portland. The location of this facility is somewhere between Ladd’s Addition and the Central Eastside Industrial District… showing that SE has always been the locus of the ‘Keep Portland Wierd’ idea.

Historic Portland Maps: 1852 Cadastral Maps

Probably the most detailed and broad ranging of these early maps are from the collection from the Public Land Survey System (or Cadastral Maps). These were generated throughout the 1850s in the Portland metro region, with the main portion of Portland encompassed in two maps, which were obviously the base material for the 1852 Survey Map, as it contains much of the same data.





Zooming in a bit on the area of current downtown Portland, we see the nascent grid forming along 'The Clearing', and see the edge of the Tualatin Mountains (West Hills) to the west, even a trail leading toward Beaverton through a slot in the Canyon where Highway 26 west (Sunset Highway) runs. On the east side of the river is the lowland marsh and streams that were subsequently filled to create the Central Eastside Industrial area. Within the Willamette River to the south, Ross Island is intact, well before the constant sand and gravel mining operations left it a ribbon of it's former self.



The detail is pretty awesome, as you really get a feel for some of the drainages that existed, still in visible dendritic forms making sub-watersheds. This section also shows the routing of a 'road' that connected to Milwaukie and Tualatin to the south.



The northern section captures the upper reaches of Downtown, as well as the current Pearl district and Northwest Industrial Zone. Closer to downtown, the original routing of Tanner Creek is made evident by it's headwaters at the 'Tannery' adjacent to the road to the Tualatin Plains. This fed Couch Lake, a wetland adjacent to the Willamette that is currently the location of Tanner Springs Park, a metaphorical daylighting of this lowland. Finally, in the pre-bridge era, the location of ferry crossings connecting east and west are shown



Another notable items on the upper west includes Guilds Lake, a significant water body that was the site of the 1905 Lewis and Clark Exposition, designed by Frederick Law Olmsted - which was later filled to create flat industrial land as it exists today.


:: image via Portland History

Taking a closer look at the northernmost section you see the level of detail shown in the marshy edge of the Columbia River called on the map 'Columbia Bayou' and some of the earliest low-density riverfront inhabitation.



I really love this map for many reasons, but the fact that it is referenced to the township, section, range mapping convention, making it easy to use as an underlayment for modern mapping to show a pre-development (or at least early development snapshot of Portland context). It also shows a relatively wide span of the region, making it useful beyond the boundaries of Portland.

I have created a few of these maps over the years which I will post when I get a chance). My ultimate goal is to reconcile these into a graphical layer in GIS that can be used for mapping analyses... any grad students out there want a project? (Find many of these maps from this post and the previous ones at the great City of Portland Publications and Maps Page)