Back to the Nitty-Gritty of the City

Recent columns by me discussing the aesthetics of architecture with a capital A have prompted letters and calls from a range of readers expressing concern that I am retreating from the more pressing issues of urban design.

“On (a recent) Sunday you wrote about the city as though it existed simply as a dreamscape for a gigantic architectural display. Usually what you write makes approximate sense,” concluded Jane Adler of Santa Monica in a particularly pointed letter.

Cornering me one morning in the Farmers Market, Charles Rosin of Carthay Circle added that while the style of isolated buildings was interesting, of more import was their siting, their effect on the street and cityscape, or whether they should be built at all.

“More crucial to the future of L. A. than the look of some high-rise going up downtown or some trendy restaurant opening up on the Westside, is such issue as the outrageous proposal to widen Fairfax Avenue that the City Council passed without really examining viable alternatives,” snapped Rosin.

“If you would have written about that instead of the competition downtown between three ‘name’ architects,” or yet another piece on Frank Gehry, added Rosin, “maybe you could have stopped the widening, or embarrassed the powers-that-be to come up with a plan that was sensitive to the neighborhood.”

A caller from North Hollywood was more blunt. “Have you sold out to the architects and their fat-cat clients?” she asked. “What about the slow-growth movement you used to write about; the neighborhood planning boards you proposed and how the city has watered them down? Let the art critic babble on about architecture. Urban design is what’s happening.”

In reply, I have always felt that there should be a strong connection between architecture and urban design; architecture being a practical and visual art that encloses a space to serve a human endeavor, and urban design a more ambitious weaving of that architecture, combined with a healthy dose of practical planning, to take into consideration broad environmental issues that shape a larger part of a city.

However, I do recognize that over the last decade that connection has been seriously weakened by the increasing emphasis in the theory, practice and promotion of architecture on style and materials; in short, on the look and image of buildings rather than impact on those who work in and around them.

Architects may talk about urban design, but whether out of frustration with the political and planning process, or whether simply succumbing to the role of the exterior decorator of zoning envelopes, they have done little about the issue. That is why so many of our recently designed buildings appear to be dueling each other with colors, shapes and materials, while seemingly adrift on an alien planet.

And while I feel the image of buildings is important to a city and should, on occasion, be commented on, I do agree with what some of the readers of this column have expressed: That a more pressing issue is the raw fact that Los Angeles has become more dense and urban, sprouting high-rises, spewing mini-malls and being submerged in a flood of traffic; and that if we don’t control and shape better, the hope of the good life on which it is based will soon flow into ocean.

Then, it won’t matter how some house in Venice or downtown office tower is styled and if its architecture is hailed and honored by the design community. No one would want to live or work in it.

So it is back for awhile to the nitty-gritty of urban design, beginning with the competing plans for the First Street North project in Little Tokyo that the City Council is scheduled to consider this month.

Of the various schemes submitted, showing most promise to serve the city’s economic and expansion needs, the burgeoning local community and, most importantly from my perspective, a vision of a vibrant, pedestrian-oriented mixed-use district, is the so-called Showa Village proposal.

Designed by the team of Johannes Van Tilburg & Partners and Gensler & Associates for the Janss Corp. and Peck/Jones partnership, the proposal creates an attractive, serpentine streetscape lined with shops, stores and restaurants, topped by housing and anchored by the existing Temporary Contemporary museum, a new office building and hotel. Saved to be recycled into a museum and a theater, respectively, is the Nishi Hongwanji Buddhist Temple and the Union Church.

Some refinement is needed. The architecture, as indicated by the renderings, appears to be overstyled, sort of like putting too much sugar into the recipe for Dutch chocolate. But the urban design--the creation of a place through sensitive programming and planning--seems right on target, and the housing above the retail just what the city needs more of.

In addition to providing desperately needed units and lending life and security to the street, such housing also offers an antidote to our increasing traffic mess. Simply put, more affordable housing in burgeoning neighborhoods like Little Tokyo just might encourage more people who work downtown to live there, leave their car in the garage and walk to their job.

The idea of reducing or eliminating the home-to-work auto trips, and auto trips in general, be it for shopping, dining or whatever, is attractive.

With this in mind, Ken Jewett suggests in a letter that more, not less, condos be built on Wilshire Boulevard in Westwood, but at affordable prices to attract members of the UCLA faculty and administration. He adds they then could walk or take a shuttle bus to work.

“This could be a major step toward a minor start to reduce traffic in Westwood Village,” he states. Though Jewett’s proposal has flaws, the concept is a good one.

In the same spirit, why should Crown Hill, west of the Harbor Freeway, be viewed as a parking area for downtown workers, as suggested by the myopic Central City Assn., or for marginal offices, and not as site for housing for the workers and others?

If ever there was an area ripe for an intensive, imaginative mixed-use development it is Crown Hill, a fact we trust will dominate the urban design to be drafted for the area by a consortium of local interests.

Imagine if the office workers didn’t have to drive in from the Valley, or wherever, to park there, but simply could walk to work and to the increasing attractions of downtown, including Little Tokyo. No doubt, both the freeways and downtown would benefit.

Maybe walking in Los Angeles is an idea whose time is ripe. To be continued.