Park Update

At our meeting last night, we received an important update from our designer and the most likely contractor. They have been able to identify approximately $3.5 million in savings that are available for the value engineering. Value engineering, for those of you who are unfamiliar with this term, means finding the things that can be adjusted in an effort to save money. Basically, cutting the fat. This project was not too fat, so the process has been a difficult one. But we are certainly headed the right direction. The City Council was impressed by the effort of the architect and contractor. They have decided that it might be a good idea to go ahead with final contract negotiation and final budget items. We have a very strong idea where we are headed with all of this, and it's very exciting. Things are moving nicely! Stay tuned for more!

Decumanus

This is the decumanus in Palmyra.


The decumanus was the east-west road in Roman road layouts. As with the cardo in the previous post, the use of this road at right angles to the other main road constituted the great axes by which one's world was laid out. It further represented the domination of man over the environment and was infinitely extendable. It also seems to be an ubiquitous method that human beings uses to show this domination - civilizations independent of one another and evolving with no contact between each other all show this same pattern.


Different from other roads that follow a more organic, natural path, these roads reflect the imposition of man's domination on the natural world. Roads may initially have followed existing natural patterns, such as animal tracks, ridge lines, drainage channels, etc, or even just the easiest path to walk. No longer. Man put a definite mark on the world, not conforming to its patterns but determining his own place in the world and how to get where he was going. We paved roads to make our way easier, thus removing us further from the natural setting. Eventually we would manufacture roadways that are entirely artificial.


The glory of the decumanus, however, was the great processional that it represents. Each day the sun rises in the east, representing new life, new birth, warmth, light, etc. And each day the sun follows the decumanus (or does the decumanus follow the sun?) along its path toward the night, where the day is defeated. This represents death, decay, darkness, coldness, etc. And each day the process is repeated. Is it any wonder that the ancients found it so easy to worship the sun?


This kind of processional feeling was translated into building form in the great cathedrals of Europe. In these buildings, a pattern was followed where on the west, one left his old life and entered through the baptistery, becoming reborn through the steps as he moved east towards the altar, past the stations of the cross which reminded him of the process by which he was reborn, and finally finds himself in the great presence of the Savior on the east end. This idea is very old, hearkening back to the days of the Egyptian Pharaohs who would build great cities of the dead on the west side of the river Nile (cardo). Then, at the death of the Pharaoh, the procession would take place, bringing the dead from the living side across the Nile, to the ultimate burial and place of the dead.


So the question in my mind is what are we doing to make sure that these places stay meaningful? In our era of vast roads, where subdivisions are laid out with an eye towards efficiency and engineering to maximize traffic flow and lot spaces, where often conflicting ideals are at play - such as the desire for people to gain the maximum profit and the other desire to create real beauty - how do we strike a balance? How do we infuse this kind of meaning into what we are doing with city planning? In the old days it wasn't hard - potentates had complete power and authority, and what they said went. Now, when we have so many people clamouring for various and sundry requirements, how can we give our cities a sense of space and meaning and richness?

First of all, we need to slow down. Just because a building is old does not mean it is worthless. We tear down buildings at a rate that is alarming. We build new roads without fixing the ones we have now. Rather than being in such a rush for newer, bigger, better, we should be looking to revitalize, refurbish, and reuse. Communities gain meaning through common shared experience laid down over generations.

Next, we need to consider how to design new subdivisions and commercial areas to fit within the existing fabric of our cities. Developers build new things as far away as they can afford, taxing infrastructure and increasing dependence on poor transit options. This maximizes their profit, but ends up costing our communities in many ways - infrastructure, overextended EMS and police services, etc. Developers need to work with neighborhood and city officials to promote successful development that is attractive and complimentary and adjacent. Ironically, this may well serve their own bottom line anyway...


Further, we should remember how our public open spaces are managed. Many places have open space requirements, which end up being the left-over area that is unuseful for anything else. Why not turn these places into an amenity? A place where people want to be, thus helping foster that sense of meaning and community that is so vital to where we live... These places fill our time with activity and our lives with meaning.


There will be more to discuss about this in the future.

Cardo

This is the cardo in Apamea.

A cardo is the north-south road that the Romans built when they first settled an area. There was an east-west road that they built at right angles (obviously) to the cardo called the decumanus. More on that later.

The cardo represents the main street of the town. It delineated the two halves of the city, and by extension, the world. The Romans had a very interesting and unique way of viewing the world. By delineating the cardo, they divided something that is natural and organic - the landscape - into two distinct halves. This division also determined how and where various other buildings were laid out. The other interesting aspect of this is that the Romans didn't use city walls unless the city already had them. Thus, these roads became a physical representation of the Roman conquest of the world, both the natural world and the imperial domination of the other peoples of the world.

In almost every culture, there is something analogous to the cardo - a main street. This was the focus of transportation, commerce, communication, civics, and promenade. Even where the grid system was utilized, with it's parallel streets arriving at similar destinations, invariably one street would become the most heavily used street, either for subconscious reasons or because of its location/proximity to desirable destinations. People who were looking for goods or services instinctively find their way to this street, which leads merchants to locate their businesses there. It then finds a life of its own, growing, thriving, expanding or contracting depending on local economic conditions.

Many times these roads would lead somewhere - a temple, cathedral, civic building, etc. These roads find an anchor, a terminus, at the end of the street that leads all to refer to heading toward the destination or away from. Other times, these roads would be build purposely to extend on to eternity, showing - like the Romans - that we are interested in extending our dominion forever.

Why is it that even in a grid street system that there are a few streets that stand out? Why is this phenomenon almost ubiquitous amongst civilizations throughout the world - even those that had no contact with each other, such as the Greek/Roman, the Chinese/Korean/Japanese, and the pre-Colombian native Americans?

A famous early 20th century architect, Le Corbusier, tried to demonstrate how a primitive man would somehow inherently know that this layout was good - geometric forms have a beauty and order that makes the chaos comprehensible. This would help establish the modernist movement in architecture.

In our world, however, we have changed all of this. The main streets now (and I purposefully did not capitalize that "main") are only "main" because they carry a lot of traffic. They are referred to as collectors or arterials. There has been some loss of the mystic element. This is due in part to the utilitarian view we have of the world - move people and goods around as efficiently as possible.

But I think something is lost. There is a human interaction that used to take place as we looked people in the face as we moved past them. Now we fly past people at excessive speeds, barely registering that there are other PEOPLE in the vehicles we share the road with. Pedestrian traffic is almost non-existent - who would want to walk near traffic whizzing by so quickly? - and in all our streets have become vacant, desert places with no connection with the goods, service, and people for whom they were actually constructed.