Joe gave a wonderful presentation on an interesting and increasingly important global issue. The Urban Heat Island (UHI) effect was something I knew of and a little about but was never really introduced to the science behind it. I loved the quote that “there’s too much focus on greenhouse gases and not enough on the changing of the landscape.” As Joe showed in his presentation, the UHI may be somewhat of a misnomer – as this effect occurs in more than just urban areas.

The presentation introduced two important metrics for measuring an urban street canyon’s canyon-ness: the aspect ratio and the sky view factor. The diagrams and images illustrated these metrics well but it would be great to add a diagram or photo for how the sky view factor is measured (i.e. person with camera in middle of street photographing upward). Joe also covered the three different methods for analyzing urban street canyons – observation, scale modeling, and computer modeling – but how do they work together? How are they different? Do they serve different purposes? (I would think that the computer models would be best used to test out different geometries, building surfaces, and landscaping during the (re)design phases of these canyons.) A summary chart or venn diagram of these methods could be an interesting addition for the final website. It was mentioned during discussion that computer models have been calibrated and tested against observational studies but what challenges exist to bring these different research methods together?

I think it was Professor Spirn who said that one of the challenges of studying and addressing air quality problems is that “air is invisible.” Beyond computer models and thermographic images, are there any cities that monitor the air quality and temperature of urban street canyons in real-time? (probably not?) Has any of the measuring equipment been built in to (or retrofitted on to) the buildings within a street canyon? What challenges exist to getting some form of UHI effect or urban street canyon quality zoning on the books in cities (that somehow incorporate baseline requirements for the aspect ratios, sky view factors, and, perhaps, building albedo)?

Why did all of the studies of the urban heat island effect and urban street canyons take place in the temperate zones? Is this a result of where funding was available or based on the need of studies in these areas? Do equatorial regions already account for the UHI effect in the design of their cities, towns, and buildings (and perhaps in their cultural and societal norms)? It was mentioned that some cities in the far north actually want to increase the UHI. This got me thinking about how, if possible, there are any ways to account for different seasonal heating and cooling needs in a city? Are there materials or design techniques that can be employed to increase an urban street canyon’s UHI effect during the winter months and decrease it during the summer months (perhaps responding to the seasons much like deciduous trees do)?

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Disused RailRoads

From this presentation, I now really want to go to Detroit and Berlin to experience the Dequindre Cut and the Sudgelande Nature Park (a successful presentation!) I liked the diversity of case studies you selected – from the posh Highline to the post-gritty Dequindre Cut to the Au-natural Sudgelande. If possible, it would great to show a graffiti continuum – showing before and after shots of Detroit (where the graffiti remained mostly untouched) and the Highline (where much of the graffiti is being painted over). A conservation vs. recreation and more/less maintenance continuum would also be interesting (Sudgelande on the conservation/less maintenance side with the Dequindre Cut and then the Highline leaning towards recreation/more maintenance)

One thing that really stuck out to me was the claim that linear parks create arbitrary experiences??? As you walk, jog, run, bike, rollerblade, or other wise move along these parks your experience (and view) is always changing. If anything, linear parks provide the most exciting, diverse experience of any park. As discussed in class, many linear parks take visitors through very interesting areas of the city that one would not normally have access to.

One question I had for these projects is who comes up with them? Who lobbies and fights for them? Who wins and who loses from these projects? (In the case of the Highline, for example, the project attracted millions of dollars of real estate investments.) For your final website, it would also help to give some more background on the Rails to Trails Foundation, as they are an important player in the creation of many linear parks (i.e. when were they founded, what were their goals, what are their goals now, scale of operation, etc).

Although Detroit maybe should have waited a few years before clearing out the vegetation next to the bike/ped path for the still only hypothetical (and probably decades away) addition of a light rail line, they were still very smart to preserve this right of way (as was discussed in class, finding, creating, and funding a right of way can be extremely difficult). While poking around on the interweb, I came across a new, relevant term – a “RWT,” or Rail with Trail. Maybe if Jaime decides to research this topic further she could add a RWT case study.

I really loved the aside about the trains coming and going in Berlin acting as seed distribution systems. It seems like in Berlin this distribution was okay (perhaps even a good thing with the endangered trees growing in the Sudgelande) – although in other cases, these “free riding” species can sometimes disrupt ecosystems horribly (like in the Great Lakes).

Overall two great presentations!

On the “urban water practices” slide, two contrasting extremes are used to highlight the differences between an artistic and functional water system but, as was discussed in class, even the sewer grate can take on an artistic element (with elaborate paintings and stencils). I would like to see some sort of continuum with examples from the more functional to the more artistic (where would an Olmsted project fit in along it?). I think it’s also important to address the subjectivity of what is an “artistic” use of water – as I’d bet there’s someone out there who thinks sewer gratings are the most beautiful thing in the world and absolutely hates even the most elaborate, artistic fountains.

I’m not sure how difficult this would be, but it would be interesting to compare what support and/or barriers exist to doing more of these projects in the U.S.? Where does the funding come from for these projects – art funds, developers, cities, the feds? What about funds for the (expensive) maintenance of these systems and underground pumps? Are there any subsidies or federal grants for building water art projects in particular? It was mentioned that water-quality regulations and the threat of lawsuits were both challenges in the States – but what ways are there around this? Are we doomed to a safety-bubble-wrapped, bottled-water-pumping existence?

In discussion there was much criticism of the Dreiseitl firm for not “doing what they say they are doing” with the water in their projects – a controversial subject to research further for the final website – but I wonder, even if faked, could these projects still not be “successful” if they help the public understand how urban hydrology works in reality? (In my opinion, they are definitely successful at being interesting, interactive, and beautiful spaces). Maybe these faked “display” water process-art projects have the role of educating the masses, as I’m not sure I’d want my hypothetical child to play around in an actual urban stream with the possibility of ingesting some unhealthy toxins carried in the runoff. Whatever the role of these spaces, their creators should be held to what they claim the projects do. In my opinion, it is their duty to “make how the system works as transparent as the water that flows through it.”

Much time was spent on the history of the Toronto waterfront but I wish more time was spent actually analyzing the different plans for the waterfront over the decades. Why did they fail? Did they fail for the same reasons? What was it about the political, power, and funding structures that doomed the past plans? Is Toronto’s waterfront (and the hands off, laissez-faire attitude) representative of other Canadian cities or is Toronto an isolated case? How did the more theoretical work done by all the Toronto-related planners actually show itself in the various plans for the redevelopment of the waterfront? (I’m imagining commentary on a waterfront redevelopment plan: “Well this part is very strongly influenced by Olmsted, but this part more by…”) How, if it all, was the public involved in the design competition? How does the grassroots neighborhood organization (whose name escapes me) that works small and plants trees play in to the greater plan for the redevelopment of the Toronto waterfront? As was brought up in class, how did the competition actually decide on the final plan? What, if any, back-door dealings were involved with the final selection?

As a result of this presentation, I really want to take a train trip to Toronto and explore the waterfront (maybe walk up the Don River too). A great project – I look forward to the finished website.

Although most of New England – where heating demand is relatively high – has a low “heat flow” (according to the Geothermal Map of the United States on slide 5), western Massachusetts, pockets of New Hampshire, and portions of Maine have a moderate to high level of heat flow. I’m curious as to how cities, states, or private companies in these generally cooler areas have utilized these pockets of untapped energy? In other words, what scale (both in size and heat flow rate) is required for a geothermal energy plant to function economically? In Iceland, high temperature water is carried 27 kilometers from Hengill to the outskirts of Reykjavik. How much energy is lost along the way? This raises the question, what is the optimal range of a geothermal district heating system?

As of 2007, only 0.349 quadrillion BTUs come from geothermal energy in the U.S. – or just 0.344% of the U.S.’s total energy. Interestingly, this is over 4 times the amount of energy we got from solar/PV power and is about the same as we got from wind power (0.341 quadrillion BTUs). It would be interesting to graph how these different energy sources ( on slide 8 ) have grown or shrunk in absolute terms and as percentages of our total energy use and to compare federal (and perhaps, state) subsidies for these different forms of energy. In the Boise City Geothermal District, the rates have been fixed at 70% of the price of natural gas. What is the true cost of this geothermal power and why tie itself to the price of natural gas? Although it may be difficult to compare the costs of a 100MWt solar PV system with a geothermal system of the same size with a wind power system of the same size, is this not what “green” cities and “environmentally conscious” states have to decide between? Take Colorado, which has good wind power, solar power, and geothermal power potential (see maps below) – what is the most cost efficient way for the state to get power? If a comparison on a dollars per watt basis isn’t doable, providing the upfront costs of the different systems would at least give a sense of what the “competition” offers.

A goal of the presentation was to explore how geothermal can influence design or make “place.” From the examples provided (and what little I know), it seems that geothermal is most often employed to create places for recreation and tourism (hot springs, spas like the Blue Lagoon, and the artificial beach in Reykjavik for example). What do these places look like and how do they incorporate and showcase the use of geothermal energy in the design? In the presentation, it was stated that the Boise Warm Springs Water District “made Warm Springs Avenue a high class neighborhood” – but why and how? What is “high class” about it? Did it attract development to the area or gentrify it or what?

I’m interested in how the use of a geothermal heat pump system on the individual household level influences the design of the house? It was mentioned in the presentation that a geothermal heat pump system could be retrofitted to any house – but is there some sort of “geothermal house” that, by design, either takes advantage of natural heat flows or is integrated with the geothermal heat pump? I’m imagining a house built with geothermal-energy-retaining materials or a house with the cooled/heated water pipes running underneath the floors, the walls, all over the house – perhaps the pipes could be on display and change color in response to the temperature of the water running through them!

Claudia gave a thorough and provoking presentation on the role of farmer’s market in the city. In our discussion after the presentation, however, it became clear that there are, in fact, many different types of farmer’s markets and it should be made explicit which one(s) are to be discussed in the paper. The history of the farmer’s market in America’s urban areas was helpful to put the subject in context and perhaps the number or location of farmer’s markets could be graphed or mapped over time. I really liked the map of the locations of US farms and farmers markets (although at this scale, it looks like all of the land between DC and Portland, ME is farmland) and I think a close up of the farms in the Flint, MI area (like the one for LA) would be a good addition to the presentation.

While I understand the argument over packaged and processed foods as obscuring the link between food and nature, I don’t agree with the claim that well-travelled, outsourced food obscures the link between us and nature. If I’m in a supermarket and I’m looking at a bunch of bananas from Chile, I know these bananas grew in nature and travelled thousands of miles to reach my stomach. I am just as aware of the bananas’ connection to nature if I bought them at a farmers market where, assuming they were not bought resale from a distributor, I can feel slightly better that perhaps they only traveled a hundred miles (reducing tailpipe/jetengine emissions).

I am also unsure that it is the role of the farmer to educate the masses about the connection between food and nature. In the most basic sense, these farmer’s markets exist because they make the farmers (some) money – not because of any mission statement. As of right now, farmer’s markets do not have the numbers or scale to compete with supermarkets across the nation – but perhaps a new (and possibly extremely profitable) mission for these farmer’s should be to fight against the federal and state subsidies that support big agribusiness that make the big supermarket possible. Every Saturday, or perhaps every day, these farmer’s market farmers interact with hundreds or thousands of people who ostensibly prefer farmer’s market produce to supermarket produce for whatever reasons (taste, price, moral reasons, etc). Could these persons not be organized to “stick it to the man” by cutting the agribusiness subsidies and, perhaps, giving some subsidies to the smaller, more local farmers?

Identity and Memory in Urban Landscapes

Through the survey of three (very) different mural programs, Leila explored the role that murals can play in cities and how they can define “place identity.” The discussion about how city – sponsored mural programs like those in Toppenish, WA or Philly differ from the ground-up, self organized mural groups like Precita Eyes Murals Arts Association in San Francisco in terms of scope, content, and message was very interesting.

I personally felt that the Toppenish murals were moderately offensive, but, perhaps, if I grew up in a town surrounded by an Indian reservation and my great great (great?) grandfather was killed in battle fighting said Native Americans, I would feel more defensive about the murals. In addition to whatever political boundary line may exist, these murals serve to mark the “social boundary” or “cultural boundary” between Toppenish and the surrounding reservation. In addition to giving the town a shared “white-man conquering the wild west” identity, the murals may also intentionally give a “KEEP OUT” message to Native Americans.

For me, the Toppenish murals bring up the question what is acceptable content for a public mural? What publics need to be considered? Just the neighborhood or town-folks or all possible viewers? Does the fact that these murals are controversial make them better (than say, a neutral waterfall)? Say a town full of neo-Nazis or KKK members in New Jersey wanted to paint a mural of Hitler or the Grand Wizard, should they be able to? Could they? What type of legal review (if any) do murals have to undergo? Maybe this is where “graffiti” comes in – expressing the beliefs and feelings of a minority?

For the final paper, it might be worth focusing a little bit more on how nature can be the core subject of murals (like the mysterious waterfalls in Philly) and also accompany murals (like the nature murals above the community gardens in Philly).

A great presentation overall with lots of memorable murals (I love the one in Philly with the tree’s roots flowing through the child’s arms)

Freiburg – Green City

Deva took on the very broad – and increasingly important – subject of sustainability in cities by studying one of the leading and most “competitive” green cities in the world – Freiburg, Germany. I was impressed by the number of indicators and competitions run in Germany and Europe alone but asked myself, “is there a need for a universal (perhaps worldwide) sustainability index?” Deva explored the difficulties in comparing “green-ness” across cities which, already challenging due to geographic, climatic, political, cultural, and scale-related variation, is exasperated by having dozens of different measuring indexes. The 10 European Common Indicators may be a start, but what exactly does each of these indicators measure (and how)? At the core of this problem is disagreement over what, exactly, “sustainability” means in general and, in particular, at the city scale. As is apparent from the spread of different measures, there is no consensus – but I would have liked to see some embryonic definition of sustainability explicitly given in the presentation (if at least to define the project’s assumptions about what is “sustainability”).

A large portion of our discussion in class revolved around the question “why Freiburg?” The last eight slides of the presentation start to address this issue but more could be done to put Freiburg’s successes in context. Some topics that came up in discussion were the role of federal (or, perhaps German-state) funding, the role of the university, the role of the solar industry (as both a funder and lobbying group), the role of the Green Party in both local and national German politics (Spirn comment?), and culturally different values. A comparison with another city – perhaps a trans-Atlantic study comparing Freiburg with, as suggested by someone in the discussion (Spirn?), Davis, CA – would help explore how some of those geographic, political, and cultural differences are reflected in the built form of a “green city.”

In this wonderful capitalist system we have, everything seems to become a competitive marketplace – “what is the most sustainable city in the region, state, country, world?” The discussion of how important the branding of Freiburg as not only a green city but the best or most green city was fascinating. This drive to become and remain the most green city in the world is, on the one hand, wonderful for the development of new green technologies and green policies, but in the face of diminishing marginal returns for increased investment, is it in fact a sustainable economic model for cities to follow? I ask, “When does a city stop?” When would that money be better spent “greening” another town, or perhaps budgeted for a project at a larger, regional scale?

This was a very interesting presentation with a discussion that seemed to open a wide assortment of areas for further research (perhaps some will make it into the thesis). I think it would be helpful if early on in the paper/presentation or as the subjects are introduced to provide  definitions for all the different types of burial grounds – churchyard, potter’s field, graveyard, cemetery, etc. Some sort of visuals showing how these all differ from one another in terms of scale, style, and relationship to the city would also be ideal. Although it was mentioned that the subject of income and socio-economic class in connection to human burials would be discussed in greater detail in Deborah’s thesis, I think it’s important to address these issues in this paper – as they are currently looming in the background of many of the burial methods and cemetery movements discussed in the presentation.

I had no idea that Washington Square Park was built on an old potter’s field – at first, this seems creepy, but through the presentation, the more I was able to accept that we’re surrounded by death, the dead, and both marked and unmarked graves. It might be worth talking about how developers, governments, and the public respond to and feel about the re-use of cemetery land for other purposes through the use of some case studies (are people comfortable with this? What happens to the cadavers and graves?).

I’m not sure how to respond to the “Joshua Small Cemetery” and the “Forever Fernwood Cemetery.” The natural burial that Forever Fernwood and Joshua Small offers initially seems like a good idea – let your body rot, returning a tiny, tiny fraction of the nutrients you extracted from the Earth and its ecosystem – but the fact that the Fernwood cemetery seems to locate these “natural” corpses in a deforested grassy hill probably counters any possible net environmental benefit when compared to a standard burial. The website description makes it seem like the service is targeted at yuppies (this is California) who are trying too hard to be “green.” From what I could tell from the Cedar Brook Burial Ground (aka the Joshua Small Cemetery) website, here the “green dead” are put in a forest setting – where trees and/or shrubs are planted over the cadaver to absorb its nutrients. If I have a choice of what to do with my dead body, I think I’d like it plopped in the ground with a fruit tree on top (provide some food for the next generation).

I was reading the book The World Without Us today and happened to stumble upon a highly relevant – and slightly graphic – discussion of embalming, decomposition, and “the green burial folks.” Apparently, in the U.S., embalming first became common during the Civil War, when the blood of the dead was replaced with whiskey or scotch. After hard liquor, arsenic was the standard for many decades until it was replaced with formaldehyde, which is still in use today. Both of these substances are criticized by the “eco-burialists” as polluting the water table. What was new to me (and perhaps should be discussed in the final paper) is the fact that “most people throughout history” were simply buried in the ground – without any embalmment or a coffin of any sort. This might come back to the subject of income or, perhaps, differences in cultures’ respective views towards death (which, for me, was one of the most interesting parts of the class discussion). The book also mentions the role of the funeral industry (a lobbying group itself?) – which obviously has a huge financial stake in keeping the status quo burial method both popular and the sole-method permitted by law.[1]

This may be outside of the bounds of your research, but what other, more unconventional, burial methods exist and what is their place in society and sub-cultures? Some burials that come to mind are water burials (burials at sea) or “hanging coffins.”

A couple of other questions the presentation brought up:

I’m curious as to what, if any, actual diseases came out of cemeteries? Was this fear legitimate or preposterous?

What are the scientific findings on the effects of traditional burial methods with respect to groundwater contamination? What about a comparison with cremation with respect to overall environmental cost?

How does economic status affect peoples’ relationships with death and cemeteries?

Does a more horrible real-life result in more positive views towards the after-life?

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Jaleh’s | Blue Cities

This was a very thorough presentation. The most interesting – yet also the most depressing – part of the project was the huge disconnect between what was said would be done (the official statement of the CRWA’s goals) and what was actually produced (the to-be reality). This disconnect is best illustrated by the photoshop-ed before-and-after images produced for the report and could be a focus of Jaleh’s research paper. It was mentioned in the presentation that the CRWA had no official power to implement any of the suggestions it made – it is here that an analysis of the organization through the strategic, political, and cultural lenses (with organization charts, stakeholder maps, etc) would be most beneficial. What informal sources of power does the CRWA have? Could they align or realign themselves with the public to create a stronger front? What did the public actually have to say about the project? Is the public split in its support or derision of Harvard’s expansion?

I do wish Jaleh had told the story about her first impression of the Charles River earlier in the presentation – as I was initially confused about what, exactly, drew her to this topic. A brief history of the site – including when the highway was built alongside the river, when Harvard (secretly and, if at all, publicly) acquired all the land for this latest expansion, when Harvard first started expanding into Allston, etc – would have helped me understand the context of the CRWA’s tasks and project. I’m curious as to the cost of this expansion – to Harvard, to the City of Boston, and to the Allston residents. Also, who will pay to maintain the proposed green (and blue) spaces? I think the presentation would have been strengthened by either spending more time on each slide (as there was, at times, an overwhelming amount of information to understand) or to actually cut out some of the text from the presentation and, perhaps, include more images and photographs of the site.

Where, however, in a time when funds for basic science are decreasing, does the funding for these designed experiments come from? Ideally, integrating the field of urban ecology with urban design through “designed experiments” would allow urban ecologists to acquire funding from both scientific research interests – i.e. the EPA or universities – and urban design interests – i.e. city or state governments, non-profits, community groups, perhaps even a developer. Could funds come directly from those who benefit – the public?

How much are the costs dependent on the scale of the experiment? Would a designed experiment testing the same ecological systems be twice the cost – or more or less – than an experiment half its size? I am curious as to how some of the ecological tests could be applied at a very local level – that of the individual household. I know the City of Cambridge offers lead-level tests of individual household lawns and gardens, where lead is a concern for both children at play and for gardeners growing edible plants, through its “Lead-Safe Cambridge Safer Soil Program” (http://www.cambridgema.gov/~CDD/lead/ls_safersoil.html). Are there other inexpensive soil tests that perhaps even a layman could take and, ideally, then email or mail in the results to their local government and/or other interested parties (ecologists)? This knowledge would directly benefit the homeowner (increasing buy-in and interest to ecological endeavors) and could also benefit urban ecologists with a possibly huge, diverse dataset.

Making the findings of a study publically accessible and understandable is extremely important to get the public interested in their metropolitan area’s ecological system and to help improve it (in a quasi-bottom up method). Besides schematic charts (like fig 1 on page 10 of “Linking ecological and built components of urban mosaics: an open cycle of ecological design” or figures 2 and 3 in “Resilient Cities”) how is the data from designed experiments and, more generally, ecological studies graphically and visually represented? I have seen some “urban metabolism” (how does it does differ from urban ecology?) models, which are often difficult to comprehend, created using the computer programs STELLA and Vensim (see sample image below taken from STELLA’s tutorial example)

but I would love to see graphics that, for example, map the ecological design spiral of projects in a city over the city’s ecological functionality over time (as discussed in the “Linking ecological and built components of urban mosaics: an open cycle of ecological design” reading). An admittedly quick search for more diagrams on the ecological design cycle/spiral failed, but I imagined the graphic to look a cleaner, better, accurate, more informational-filled version of this:

Perhaps the diameter of the spiral (y) would reflect the ecological functionally of the city while x would reflect the time?

How do urban ecologists actually “establish controlled studies in the city?” (My first response was “WHAT? impossible – too many variables.”) I don’t completely understand how a study can get to “statistical clarity” or how to “reduce variables” when there is a seemingly endless list of them? Do you simply get enough data points such that the variation is no longer an issue? How do you take human interactions with the environment into account? How can “organizations, beliefs, myths… social identity, norms of behavior, hierarchies of wealth, power, status, knowledge, etc” be quantified and put into models? (Resilient Cities, 377)

Even if these social factors cannot easily be modeled, I am very interested in how culture – “ethnicity and lifestyle, property regimes, social norms and economic factors influence the structures and functions of the vegetation component of cites” (Linking, 9). Are there certain characteristics of a culture that correlate with more or less vegetation within the city? Perhaps the “level/age of the civilization” – i.e. nomadic, pre-industrial, industrial, post-industrial – has more to do with the given society’s relationship to vegetation in cities?

“Rainwater as a Resource” was written by Edith Ben-Horin of the TreePeople. Treepeople’s stated mission is to “inspire the people of Los Angeles to take personal responsibility for the urban forest – educating, training, and supporting them as they plant and care for trees and improve the neighborhoods in which they live, learn, work and play” (inside cover). This publication, in particular, was written to share information about the multipurpose stormwater management projects TreePeople helped manage (2).

Both the Eden by Design readings and this article portray the Los Angeles government agencies as very backward thinking with respect to the regions’ environment. In the 30’s (Eden by Design), in the 70’s (when TreePeople started work), and in 2007 (when “Rainwater as a Resource” was published) the City of Los Angeles did (and do) not consider parks necessary or worth the cost (2).

The use of demonstration sites on a local level seems to be a successful way to get support for larger, more intensive (and expensive) efforts – both the South Platte River Greenway in Denver and the TreePeople’s projects used this technique (2). By showing these demonstration sites to students, members of the public, and landscape architects TreePeople hopes to inspire them to take action (perhaps integrating some of the ideas into their home or practice) and/or demand policy changes. Perhaps more importantly, the projects are also shown to government officials and city leaders – some of which hopefully fight to fund, institutionalize, and apply the concepts on a city-wide and regional scale.

Discussion of recycling of environmental, human and economic resources reminds me of the idea of urban metabolism – thinking of the inputs and outputs of the city in a circular instead of a linear fashion. Can Stewart Pickett explain urban metabolism (I am only vaguely familiar with the concept…) (3)

The key Best Management Practices (or BMP) used in the “Hall House” include a cistern, a first-flush diversion unit (cleans pollutants in first burst of rain), a vegetated and mulched swale, retention grading, and a drywell. I am curious as to how much these improvements cost – $25,000 for the demonstration house (ouch!) but would cost less in the future with economies of scale ($5,000 to $6,0000) – and who paid for them (a wide variety of sources)? (10). Would the city subsidize and/or provide incentives for the installation of these facilities to the homeowner equal to the amount the city saves from “collection, transportation, and processing costs” (10 and 15)? Does the city have the funds to continue financing these types of programs?

While not a concern for some, would a retention basin full of water for 72 hours after a rainstorm kill all of the grass on the lawn? Would it provide a breeding ground for mosquitoes and other insects? This is a bit off topic, but why is America in love with lawns? (15) Why do homes in Las Vegas, Phoenix, or any other built development in an arid climate have lawns? What happened to the local (drought resistant) fauna? Is it all cultural – just the suburban dream?

If the rain doesn’t wash away the oils, pesticides, animal waste, atmospheric deposits, and trash, what happens to it normally? Okay, maybe the trash gets picked up weekly and some of the animal waste is picked up by responsible pet owners but how should oils, pesticides, and “atmospheric deposits” (what are they? – ozone, SO₂, NO₂, PM10, CO) be responsibly disposed of (24)? Although the grated trench in the driveway “prevents motor oil and other pollutants from flowing into storm drains and creeks and out to local beaches and bays,” what happens to them? Do they just sit in the drywell building up or do they filter out into the surrounding soil and eventually resurface? (12) What happens to the pollutants removed from the stormwater in the treatment unit? If the contents of the oil and grit chamber are “hazardous,” how and where are the pollutants disposed of? (27)

It was mentioned in all three cases that maintenance of the systems was inadequate (and that may be a forgiving way to put it). What are the long term costs – in both dollars and hours – of maintenance? Why is it that the list of maintenance tasks for the retrofit design for the Hull House – that was supposedly “tailored around minimal maintenance” – is so long and intimidating (12)? How well, if at all, do the stormwater management facilities function with limited or no maintenance? – not very well) How can the designation of “operation and maintenance responsibilities” be better defined? Why did the TreePeople have no plan in place for the maintenance of the facilities (this is a BIG failure)? Who is best qualified, in terms of finances, interest, and training to maintain the facilities? Why is there such a lack of funding (and interest among the stakeholders) for the maintenance of these projects?

It seems strange to me that the school construction managers would resist a project that would save energy (money), water, and protect the health of children. What interest(s) did they have in keeping the status quo – an asphalt horizon? (The paving of the swale with concrete for truck deliveries at Broadous Elementary is really depressing.)

Water in Environmental Planning

(Admittedly, I was only able to access parts of the book on GoogleBooks)

Pathetic as it is to admit it, the discussion of the Hydrologic Cycle and the accompanying diagram was very helpful for me – I don’t think I have studied it in any level of detail since 7^th or 8^th grade. This quick, scientific introduction assists the reader in understanding the field examples that follow. As a planner and designer, I do not think I would actually be able to determine why the salinization of the groundwater occurred at Amboseli National Park or the precise causes of the subsidence of Venice or many of the other processes occurring at the other field examples and worldwide – but the discussion of the implications these processes have on development and the built form are the most interesting and, in my opinion, the most relevant portion of the book to planners. I hope that in the future, I would at least have the brains – although funding may be the more limiting factor – to consult a landscape architect and/or environmental engineer before, during, and after a project.

The history of the Snohomish Valley floods and the public’s relation to the government and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers was tragic and telling – 30 years later, in New Orleans (and along the entire Gulf coast) many of the same conflicts, tensions, and problems exist. I could also relate to the discussion of the landslides in Seattle – in part because of the urban setting, but also because the authors did a better-than-average job with their image/diagram selection and focusing the text on planners.

Compared to The Granite Garden, I feel that this document generally focuses more on the science and techniques behind the environmental processes (so much math, statistics, charts, graphs, etc in chapter 2!) and less on the connection these processes have to cities and urban design. While Water in Environmental Planning may have a target audience leaning more towards the hydrological engineering camp, both books are explicitly targeted at planners. There are more images and diagrams in The Granite Garden directed at planners and designers – showing the environmental processes in the context the target audience is most familiar.

How representative of other old streetcar suburbs is the landscape of West Philadelphia today? Did streetcar suburbs built by private developers generally lead to inadequate amounts of both public and private green space (Framework for Action, 12)?

Are there some types of communities – categorized by some demographic (income, region of America, race, etc) – that are more or less likely to get together and make community landscape improvements (i.e. community gardens?) Does it help if a community is homogenous or heterogeneous? Do these types of community cooperative projects for public, communal open space only happen when there is a lack of private open space?

How has pedestrian access to the Schuylkill River changed over time – thus providing more public green space to the residents of West Philly (or at least those located nearby the river)? Yes, highways and railroads along the river form a barrier – but are there connections to access the river?

Why did you select the Mill Creek neighborhood to work with over other West Philly neighborhoods? Was it the most cooperative and enthusiastic community or was it the one most in need of parks and public open space? Was it the connection between the status of the neighborhood and the Mill Creek floodplain? Did it have the most potential for the redevelopment?

How does UPenn, Drexel, and other moneyed interest groups in the Mill Creek flood plain address their flooding issues? Can money and a better building stock solve the problem?

If money sources for these landscape projects “range from public agencies [FEMA?] and large institutions or corporations to smaller organizations and groups of individuals” who collected, managed, and used these funds – neighborhood organizations, religious institutions, the City, UPenn, etc? ( Framework for Action, 8 )

While most of the report is still relevant today, technology (and possibly the expansion of the regional transportation network) dates it. New datasets from the feds, state, and/or city paired with new GIS programs (some accessible via an online portal, perhaps) may have made the dataset and/or data center obsolete (or of less value). What is the status of the computer database and data center today? <Database not updated since 1996> Have the government’s various datasets caught up with your efforts yet (or gone beyond them) ?

What plants and trees start growing on vacant land – does the land naturally return to urban forest? Yes, sort of: “Young woodlands of ailanthus, sumac and ash have grown up on older lots, urban meadows on lots vacated more recently” (SpirnMillCreek.pdf 2005, 4). Is this type of growth useable and acceptable to the community?

Did working with the school children change the ideas and proposed projects in the landscape plan for the neighborhood? Or was it more of an education experience?

To this day, the City has not taken up the proposed plans for the Mill Creek neighborhood – Why? Simply lack of funding? (No) What has the City done in other neighborhoods that are in flood plains? You mentioned in an update that it is “not feasible to open the creek back up” (SpirnMillCreek.pdf 2005, 7). Is this a new development or was it feasible at some earlier time?

A Visit to West Philly:

When I visited a friend at Swarthmore this past summer, I spent some time exploring West Philly – specifically, the area between 34^th and 55^th between Market St and Spruce St (the University City, Spruce Hill, and Walnut Hill neighborhoods). While there were some vacant and semi-blighted homes, I was also impressed by the number of homes I saw that were under renovation. On every block, there were at least 2 or 3 homes being repaired. And the trees – so many trees! I found many homes with for sale signs up – both in this section of West Philly and throughout the rest of Philly that I explored. I do not know if this simply a product of the wonderful economy or some longer-term trend. I also noticed that as my distance from the universities increased (westward), the quality of the housing stock seemed to decrease. How has UPenn and Drexel helped (or not) the West Philadelphia neighborhood with financing and planning redevelopment projects?

I had a really nice experience walking around: people sitting out on their porches and stoops waved and said hello. Many people seemed to pass the day (or at least some hours of it) on the porch just sitting, talking, and people-watching. I visited a nice, new café (greenlinecafe.com) on the corner of Locust and 45^th on the ground floor of a building that, according to Google Streetview, was vacant at least as late as in June 2007. (I looked it up and the greenline café only moved in to this new location in June 2008 – so it had been a vacant business for years!)

A Long Distance Visit: Thanks, Google!

Looking at the Mantua and Belmont neighborhoods in Google Earth and Streetview reminds me of parts of Baltimore or New Orleans. It looks like there are definitely just as many if not more vacant lots and blighted homes today as there were in 1991. In some parts of these neighborhoods, it seems like if all of the vacant lots were “filled in” with parks and community gardens and nurseries that there might not be enough residents to enjoy or maintain them. Is there some sort of “maximum” amount of green open space a neighborhood can support? Is there some “golden ratio” of XX acres of park/community garden/open space per XXXX people?

I probably spent too much time exploring Google’s virtual West Philly, but I was wondering if you happened to know what the development is in the Mill Creek neighborhood between 44^th and 47^th to the north of Fairmount Ave (Aspen St cuts through it). These are new suburban homes (McMansion like) with a green yard and a driveway across the street and in the middle of a neighborhood of high density row houses with abandoned properties, vacant lots, and blighted homes (it just looks surreal). See pics below:

GoogleStreetview of the subdivision

GoogleStreetview at N 44th St and Aspen St

(Note vacant and blighted homes and “missing teeth” on the left)

Perhaps this development is the enclave project built by the City and the Nehemiah Corporation (Spirn Mill Creek 2005, pg 8)? It would be interesting to talk to the residents in the development and those adjacent to it – I wonder if there is any antagonism?

Another redevelopment project is located on and South of Westminster Ave between 45^th and 47^th. This row house design does a better job of fitting in with the existing context while still providing a housing upgrade.

How do the authors use images? What strikes you about them? How much of the substance of the authors’ message could you glean just from the images, without reading the text? How is the authors’ use of images similar or different to professional practice today?

The authors almost always use photographs to make a point. While many are of Los Angeles and the Los Angeles-region, a scattered few come from around the U.S. and are used for comparison or to illustrate for emulation and adaptation. I am generally impressed by the skill of the photographer – as I can often look at a photograph and, without the description, understand the problem or issue it is addressing.

How is the report organized? Is the organization effective?

While the Table of Contents is quite impressive (with short descriptions for each subject), the report is a little OVER-organized and broken up for my taste. Reading portions of the report become difficult when there is a new header ever other paragraph.

Who was the intended audience? Who do you think read the report?

Most immediately, the intended audience of the report was the Citizen’s Committee on Parks, Playgrounds, and Beaches – for which the 200 copies of the report were explicitly made (see page 70). Because the committee was formed by the Chamber of Commerce (in 1927), the report made its way there as well. In theory, the report should have been released to other policy makers and to the public for discussion but it was essentially shot down in the Chamber of Commerce for “politics” – the suggestions in the report were too many, too costly and it was unclear what agency would plan, control, and manage these parks (46-48).  In the long term, the audience for the report became future planners – for both Los Angeles and other cities and regions.  What aspects of the plan have been implemented over the years in Los Angeles?

What does the 1930 report say about the time in which it was produced?

The most telling – but also the most distressing – characteristic of the report is Olmsted-Bartholomew’s idolization of the automobile. This car-enthusiasm is a product of the times – the automobile is a wonderful new invention for many and it has not yet done much damage – and the location (ever-sprawling Los Angeles). The report promotes car-culture and a city of low density, single-family, detached homes.  I find it embarrassing that the report only mentions the Pacific Electric Railway system for its “extensive service rendered the beaches and beach communities” (117). I don’t remember public transportation being discussed anywhere else in the report.

Some other questions:

How has the importance and position of parks changed in city and regional governments over time? Do “parks still wait?” in Los Angeles (87)?

Why, after all these decades, does Los Angeles still have a park problem?

I am intrigued by the idea that access to parks directly affects the “health, happiness, [and most interesting to me] moral welfare” of a population (85). Does this statement imply that the populations of neighborhoods lacking access to parks are immoral? This discussion reminds me of Herbert Gans and his study of the “slum”-dwelling “West Enders” in The Urban Villagers. Gans’s findings (living in a slum neighborhood does NOT cause many of the slum-dwellers problems) seem to contradict the report’s quasi-environmental determinism.

Who has access to Los Angeles’s parks today? Do the poor lose out on access to local and regional parks? Is there public transportation to any of the large regional parks?

The report’s discussion of local speculative land markets in the hills and mountains of Los Angeles (92-93) reminds me of the developers out on the southern tips of the bayous of Louisiana – they build multi-million dollar lifted homes for out-of-state, weekend-recreational fishermen and then demand the city and/or state to run utilities out to the new developments. These scenarios beg the question, how can cities or states get developers to pay the full (actual) cost for the “full development” of a property that is in an environment “unsuited for private uses?”(92) Better still, how can cities stop developers from building in these (at times, dangerous) places at all? The most obvious (and probably most often used) answer is stricter and stricter zoning but are there other, better ways? (Incentives possibly?)

How would this plan have supported or countered sprawl? Would it have simply been “better sprawl” with parks or could it have served to densify Los Angeles?