Public And Private Places
The Political Language Of City Forms
Urban design first considers the form of the community in a relatively non-political manner, using maps of buildings as a starting point for looking at the patterns. These figure-ground maps, modeled after Nolli’s famous map of Rome, depict the formal structure of a city the way an x-ray depicts the anatomy of the human body. Like an x-ray, it is not a superficial graphic pattern that matters, but our forensic ability to interpret the meanings of the structural patterns. When planners look at figure-ground maps we are conducting a broad interpretive review, looking for the cultural history of ideas and patterns of experience, actions, and all the interventions that have created the places that make up the city. This interpretation of the form of the city always reflects, and ultimately influences, the political decision-making process.
The figure-ground map of a city at a particular point in time shows a fixed, static image of those political outcomes. As our ability to interpret that image improves — as we learn the language — we can see things today that we could not see decades ago. The reverse is also likely to be true in that planners from prior eras could see aspects of city form from a political perspective that today we no longer comprehend fully. In any case as planners learn to read the patterns of form in a figure-ground map it is hard to ignore the meanings of that language. The problem, however, is the translation — reading the form and then translating it into an everyday language that can be understood by persons not trained in that same language of city form (just as many non-medical professionals cannot read the language of radiological images).
The general public often acknowledges the difficulty of understanding the specialized jargon and language of different disciplines. The same is not true in urban design — that is, the profession of urban design lacks public appreciation. There are two primary reasons for this. First, visual communication is not taught regularly in our educational curricula like math, statistics, logic and other sciences. Consequently, for many adults, discussions of urban forms appear as comprehensible as the discussion of Egyptian hieroglyphics. Secondly, planners and designers have to develop better communication skills and associated vocabularies to discuss urban form. Conversations about city form, and especially any conversation about the political content of that form, remain exceedingly difficult.
The texture and grain of Copenhagen creates order and diversity. Copenhagen, 2002.
Planners still use several metaphors to discuss city form. Planners talk about the “texture and grain” of cities, the “urban fabric,” “weaving” forms together designing forms that have a “dialogue,” letting one form “impose” itself on another. Such metaphors for discussing urban form do not provide a direct, easily understood representation of political issues. Instead, when planners discuss politics, they do not mention city forms and places but use overly generalized maps of zip codes, census tracts, and jurisdictional boundaries. Maps depicting political boundaries seem like a self-evident basis for political discussion, but none of these maps link the pattern of city form and places that comprise communities. We can see maps of voting behavior organized by counties, precincts or census tracts. It would be interesting to see such maps, over time, organized by neighborhoods or types of streets.
The problem remains that maps of city form may parallel political issues, but they are rarely part of an integrated language. Moreover, like other disciplines — such as mathematics, science, and computer technology — the language of city form and the language of statistical analysis underlying political geography suffer, respectively, from constant criticisms of irrelevance or misrepresentation. Ordinarily this would not be a major problem, except for the realization that the meanings and patterns of urban form have profound impact on the well-being of our cities. Discussing urban form is not just an intellectual exercise, it is central to the task of making and governing good cities.
Is a city too centralized or decentralized? Does the city grow incrementally or by discrete sections? Have past planning actions destroyed neighborhoods by demolishing social structure by rationalizing the demolition of the form? Are new plans destructive to the political order of the city or just a minor change? Answering these and related questions might improve our understanding of the interdependence of city form and politics.
Decisions about city form lead directly to one of the constant struggles within planning — the balance between so-called public and so-called private land. The difference between public and private land (and by implication the difference between public and private places) is much more than a line on the map. This issue requires a broad understanding of how our political culture views cities, government, and basic concepts of social rights and responsibilities.
Both photographs portray powerful political events now commemorated in an urban landscape. Both places have developed new meanings. The statue of Jordano Bruno (left) still stands in Rome centuries after his execution by the Inquisition. Rome, 1976. The image of the World Trade Center (right) prior to its horrific destruction is still part our contemporary political experience. New York City, 1980s.
Defining Public Places
For centuries communities have debated which land should be under the purview of society and which should be controlled by the individual. Every part of this debate has elements which spur further debate. No single person, community, or organization controls all the land, all the time. The land evolves through a cyclical process of adaptation and change. Within that evolution, there are many models of community-based decision-making regarding interactions with the land using words like “territory” and “ownership”.
The concept of “ownership” almost always arises as the basis for deciding who, in each community, makes the decisions about different land areas. This political decision-making process is the subject of not-so-friendly arguments, legal issues, wars, governmental conflict, turf battles, and so forth. For planners, the discussion almost always begins with the question “what is public?”
If someone says, “public realm” or “eminent domain” or “right-of-way,” then the question becomes: Whose realm, domain or right is it? Does it mean everyone in the region or just my neighbors? Does it include only people residing in my neighborhood right now or perhaps people who lived here in the past or might live here in the future? Does it exclude persons whose right to “movement” is questionable? Henri Lefebvre’s “right to the city” comes to mind as a powerful answer. For planners, who often get caught amidst these intense political and legal debates, the issue often devolves into the concepts of “access,” “jurisdiction,” and “use,” especially in so-called public places like beaches, parks, schools, airports, and roadways.
In practice there are few if any public places which do not have restrictions on public use. Almost all of the regulations of public activity and associated restrictions are also associated with specific forms. For example, streets, parks, and plazas are all specific public forms that may be restricted by rules of usage, traffic, noise, and hours of operation. A stroll through any older American city or suburb will probably lead to an encounter with a dozen different public realms each with different bodies of laws and regulations. Some communities only allow their residents to use “public” facilities. We may call a place “public,” but some people are not permitted access and for those who are granted access you are not free to do whatever you like.
Milwaukee’s Riverwalk: Within a few feet, several layers with differing public and private rights join seamlessly into one great place. Milwaukee, 1990s.
The public realm is complex since we have no singular definition of public. Some persons might say that they “know it when they see it” but defining the public realm gets messy. Gramercy Park in New York City is a beautiful place that has the “look and feel” of a public park but it is owned by, and under the jurisdiction of, a private organization (area property owners). The park gates are locked and accessible only by persons entitled to enter. It is, perhaps, not much different than a condominium or homeowners association with a private club, park, or golf course. Gramercy Park, however, is clearly visible to all members of the public who walk by on the sidewalk. I heard someone call this concept “visual democracy” — everyone has the right to look at the gardens internal to the park. Gramercy Park has been included in innumerable television commercials, shows, and films for the whole world to see. It is even accessible to persons who pay for accommodations at a nearby hotel which is presumably open to the public. That said, it is still a private park.
The Rights Of Public Places
Do members the public have a “right-of-view” to experience the visual appeal of a park which is private property? How might this “right-of-view” for Gramercy Park differ from the rights of homeowners in an old subdivision who object to the development of another subdivision on beautiful abutting farmland. A more common example occurs on traditional streets where the facades of homes, on private property, are essential to maintaining the aesthetic quality of the street but the homeowner wants to build a taller building. This is a circumstance in which setbacks, building massing, facade guidelines, front yard regulations and historic preservation regulations all impact city form as part of the political decision-making process. Private land is restricted because of the public’s right to view and use the city. These rights are far from universal and vary by state and municipality.
The long-standing planning practice, in which form of private property is subject to public regulation, can be found throughout history. Today, in the United States, it is most evident in the application of form-based codes. While form-based codes are often considered a new approach, many the ideas go back centuries to other great public places shaped by private forms. The owners of private property cannot do whatever they want with their house — they have an obligation to preserve the public view of their private property.
Just a few blocks from Gramercy Park is another place — Stuyvesant Park — which seems modeled after the same types of form as Gramercy Park and found all across London and comparable cities. Stuyvesant Park, under the jurisdiction of the City of New York, is fully accessible to persons from the street – no gate and no key required. Stuyvesant Park has limited visual appeal with minimal plantings, poor maintenance, and a fountain that rarely operates. Gramercy Park offers elaborate plantings, floral arrangements, and high quality maintenance. The point is that the public realm has critical qualitative attributes. In this case the publicly owned park is physically accessible but less appealing while the privately owned park has restricted access but greater visual appeal.
Perhaps the ordinary main street is the most public with almost no challenges to anyone’s right to walk down the street at any time. But just off the street, in a hotel lobby, a cafe table, or an office lobby – we encounter another form of public realm. These semi-public places are open to the public but under the regulation of a private entity. If you “misbehave” they may ask you to leave. We have all seen signs saying, “no shoes, no shirt, no service.” While the public does not own such places, we have a cultural expectation that our entry into the place will not be challenged and may even be welcomed if we are about to spend money benefitting the property owner. These issues become more complex in indoor malls. On the simple street we have a “right-of-way” and perhaps a “right-of-view” and a “right of access.”
The recent phrase “complete streets” offers little hope for a broader view of public place. Complete streets are substantially incomplete — they may include a complete set of circulation options (pedestrians, bicycles, scooters, trucks, buses and cars) but they have an incomplete pattern of social and economic activities. The street may be complete in terms of circulation options but incomplete as a public place. Complete streets extend our rights to more modalities of safe and secure movement (a noteworthy achievement) but do not include purposeful movement ranging from social experience to cultural significance. Complete streets should include the essential ingredients to meaningful streets other than circulation, especially the view of, access to, and experience of surrounding built and natural environments.
A more recent example of the relationship of form to public places occurs when we consider sound barriers. When freeways are constructed too close to residential neighborhoods, we change the form of the roadway with sound barriers — a highly expensive solution that solves one problem (noise) and creates a new one (visual discord and confined views). Is there a balance point between the right-to-view that belongs to drivers and the right-to-quiet that belongs to housing occupants? Our free public view from the free public highway infringes on the private property rights of those entitled to peace and quiet and less air pollution abutting a public place. Other countries have found ways to maintain full scenic views for motorists and, at the same time, reduce noise for the neighbors.
Planners will not lead the way in resolving these political debates and conflicts. Nevertheless, by understanding the form and places of the city, planners can find better ways to integrate the many versions of public and private experience that we expect in our built and natural environments.
The Public’s Fence
The adage of “good fences make good neighbors” in the Mending Wall by Robert Frost can be interpreted in different ways. One view suggests that a good fence wall allows people to stay apart, reduce human interaction, and avoid the unwanted social entanglements. Another view might say the fence shows where two places come together comfortably in a visually appealing boundary. The fence can be a barrier or a seam. Unlike property lines which often remain no more than abstract lines on paper, the fence is a physical form that plays a major role in the form of cities.
The security fence serves a useful function for safety and protection. The non-security fence, however, provides a critical cultural function in defining the way city forms are organized. Fences along the side yards denote separation between two private property owners, but fences in front yards (and some back yards) serve a much more significant social function by embodying the connection between one private owner and the entire public. This viewpoint suggests that we think of fences as attractive seams that knit together our private realm with the street and the larger community realm in which we live. Put another way the fence, built by the owner, really belongs to the public realm.
The division between public and private places is often blurred to the advantage of the community. Top row: three private places with great public visibility. New York City, 1980s. Middle row: three private places which require a fee but remain accessible. Washington D.C, 2000s. Bottom row: three public/private places outside and then inside the Villa D’Este near Rome. Villa D’Este, 1976.
Front yard fences also provide landmarks and diversity. Many front yard fences are highly decorative and serve as visual amenities that accompany front yard gardens that provide clarity to both the public and private users. A simple way to frame this issue is to imagine our sense of territoriality when we walk by a property without a fence. Do we feel that we are intruding on someone’s privacy – that is, do we feel that the owner of property has, by virtue of offering no visible landmark, some territorial claim over the sidewalk and the land in the public right-of-way?
The absence of a fence does not make a place more public but less public. It tells the local passer-by that they are walking near someone else’s turf. On the other hand, when there are fences, it tells the passer-by that, within the right-of-way, they are fully on “public” turf. The fence defines the form of the public place. It does not keep people out. It celebrates the public place. It shows that people who are on private property know their limits. It is the public’s fence built by the owner of private property. It is even more so when it clearly has ornamental or decorative features intended for public view. Many privately built fences are paired with ornamental plantings that increase the visual experience for the public.
When fences celebrate the entry from a public right-of-way to a private yard, in the form of gates and landscape, it creates an even stronger message of respecting and celebrating public life. When the fence gets too high or lacks ornament and completely blocks visual contact between the public and private realms it reverts back to its non-public or perhaps anti-public sentiment. The balance point is hard to define but we know it when we see it.
The front yard fence represents just one layer in a series that transitions back and forth from public to private places and back again. Each of the filters or layers has a form and each helps us understand and experience the built and natural environments. For example, a common sequence, from public to private places occurs along a traditional neighborhood streets from the pavement to home interior:
Public place: the sidewalk is fully public; it does not belong to the property owners of the house, although they may feel it is an extension of their home
Semi-public boundary: the front yard fence, sometimes with a gate, defines the transition from the public sidewalk to the semi-public front yard
Semi-public place: the yard itself with a simple lawn, decorative plantings, cultivated gardens, seating, and/or recreational elements
Semi-private place: the porch or patio in the front allows residents to experience the public place while sitting on their private property
Private shared place: once inside the house the living room or front hall belongs to all the residents and offers views to the porch or yard
Private personal place: as we move further into the house the forms become personally private with no views of the front
The same gradients — moving from public to private — can also be mapped for entering and using a sidewalk cafe or restaurant. Public and civic buildings have sequential transitions from highly public to less public, and private places. Each transition, each layer, has its own form. Planners need to address all the layers that create the forms — if not, the places may not work effectively.
Copenhagen’s highly active streets demonstrate how economic activity drives social interaction. These photographs depict the Stroget, including the requisite density, circulation, and maintenance. Copenhagen, 2002.
Topic summary
The political language of city forms
Defining public places
The rights of public places
The public’s fence