Urban Parks of the Past and Future
by Galen Cranz,
Associate Professor of Architecture,
University of California at Berkeley
From Parks as Community Places: Boston, 1997, a publication on the Urban Parks Institute's annual conference.
The history of urban parks in the United States falls into four models. I'd
like to
briefly summarize those four, and then I'd like to talk about what I think
a fifth
model might be.
The first model is The Pleasure Ground. Roughly speaking, that era covers
the
period from 1850 to 1900. The pleasure ground is typically a large park, located
on the
edge of a city, following the ideal of the pastoral landscape with buildings
subordinate
to the overall landscape. This is the kind of park we associate with Frederick
Law
Olmsted. This large landscaped park was supposed to simulate nature or the
countryside.
But it is not supposed to be as wildly stimulating as nature. Olmsted thought
that
Yosemite was wild, even scary. This pastoral landscape was conceptually mid-way
between
the wildness of pure nature and the finite and civilized nature of a city. These
parks
were active; there was diversified programming, sports were very popular. But
the design
also allowed for a certain kind of mental appreciation of the landscape, which
sometimes
is mistakenly called the "passive" component of these parks. A better
word is
"contemplative." I think this provides such a rich model because it
allowed for
both active and passive - or contemplative - recreation.
However, because these parks were located on the edges of cities, the working
class
never got to use them. They were too far away; it took an expensive transit ride
to get
there. These parks became playgrounds for rich people who liked to race their
carriages
there - the parks had some of the best roads in cities at that time.
A subset of this model occurred for only ten years at the very end of the
19th century:
I refer to it as the Small Park Movement. This was an effort to take the
landscaping principles of the pleasure ground and translate them into smaller
parks,
closer to the tenement districts where working people actually lived. That
movement didn't
last for very long, because it merged with the playground advocates who were, at
the same
time, advocating safe places for children to play off the streets. These two
movements
combined to provide parks for working class people and to provide special play
environments for children, and together they created the second model, which I
call The
Reform Park.
In the reform park, planners were trying to use the park as a way to reform
the city
socially, primarily because they were dealing with so much immigration. Planners
had a
desire to bring everybody together so that they would speak the same language,
they would
know how to fill out government and other kinds of forms, they would know what
it means to
live in America. The architectural innovation of this period is the field house
- which is meant to be the poor man's club house. It is sometimes located right smack
dab in the
center of the park. Remember: this park generally doesn't exceed four square
blocks, or it
could even be a single square block. And there's no illusion that it's in the
countryside
anymore - in this park there is symmetrical site planning and organization.
Obviously,
there is a radical difference between the pleasure ground and the reform park,
probably
the sharpest distinction that we have seen in our park history.
In 1930, a new era was ushered in when Robert Moses was appointed
commissioner of New
York City's parks department. Moses made a defining statement, saying;
"We'll make no
more absurd claims about what can be accomplished with parks, but rather,
fulfill the
mandate to provide recreational service."
I call this third period, from 1930 to 1965, the era of the Recreational
Facility - "recreation" because of the emphasis on activity,
"facility"
because it's no longer really a park in the sense of having a lot of green areas
with a
lot of land around them. For example: a stadium would be managed by the parks
department
and viewed therefore as a park, along with the parking lot around the stadium.
All these
things that are more facilities than parks are considered nonetheless to be
parks.
Robert Moses basically spoke out against the first two periods when parks
people had to
justify spending public money on parks. Whereas earlier, park planners had to
enumerate
all the things that were being accomplished - reducing class conflict,
socializing
immigrants, stopping the spread of disease, educating people - to justify the
unprecedented expenditure; under Moses parks had become a recognized
governmental service
needing no justification. The emphasis was instead on multiplying and extending
into the
suburbs and all the areas that didn't yet have a field house or some other kind
of park.
This is a sad period in a way, because it has very little artistic vision. And
it has very
little artistic vision because it has very little social vision. And this is why
people
sometimes think parks are boring, because most of us have grown up in this
period.
In the mid-1960s there was a new attitude that recreation is potentially
everywhere - in the street or on the rooftop or on a crosswalk or at a waterfront or an
abandoned
railway site or a plaza or a park - and that you could think of integrating all
those
spaces into a network. I call this fourth model The Open Space System,
because of
this ideology - that all open space has potential recreational value, depending
on the
twist that you give it. A more artistic, participatory sensibility was born in
this period
so you get hip programming in parks, like controversial rock concerts.
All of these models fall into 35 to 50 year segments. And from the mid-1960s
to now is
30 years - which means it's perilously near a time for a change. In
fact, I
would say that we need a change. So, what is next?
The fifth model, the model of the future, centers around the potential to use
parks to
contribute to the effort of learning to live on the earth in a more sustainable
way.
Overall parks can begin to overcome an historic split between production of
resources and
consumption of resources and address the possibility of being productive in
their own
right.
In other cultures - in China, for example - parks are used to generate
revenue and to
grow products like bamboo, which are made into fans or toothpicks; or flowers
that are
used as medicinal herbs. Fish in the ponds are harvested three times a year.
Timber is at
a great premium in China because their land is different than ours and they
don't have
forests the way we do -- or grassland, for that matter. And so they grow trees
and
selectively harvest them in the parks. In this sense, the Chinese are using
their parks
productively. And in this way, these parks help meet their own expenses. I think
that if
we could model that in our parks, it could be a way for us to demonstrate how to
use
landscapes that people could then adapt to their own yards. For example; 19% of
municipal
landfill and waste is from yards - grass clippings and branches, etc. If parks
could
demonstrate how mulching can be good, that there is an aesthetic to it, that
would be a
great service that parks could perform - not only for themselves but also for
the local
neighborhoods.
Parks could even become resource recycling centers in some cases. You could
make it fun
for kids to throw glass and metal, or to see pit bailers wrapping string around
newspapers. You could work with artists to make these things visually,
kinetically, very
exciting, and at the same time, pick up some of the elements of the open space
ideology
and integrate it into a higher social purpose. The challenge for the future is
to figure
out how to live on the earth in a way that is sustainable -- in a way that won't
wreck it.
Another example is the floating gardens south of Mexico City. These are 500
year-old
Aztec gardens that were built over a canal system. They originally put soil on
mats, to
make the gardens literally float. Now they have stabilized into these little
squares that
can be farmed, with deep canals that go around them. By the 1970s, these gardens
were
threatened by people who were moving south from Mexico City, looking to build
second homes
in this area. The government didn't have the money to buy the gardens, or to
make them a
national or city park. But the government was able to invest in a better road to
the
gardens, and a marketplace so that the farmers there would have a market that
would make
farming more profitable than selling their land for second houses -- and they've
succeeded. It's beautiful, it's historic preservation, economic development, and
park and
recreation development all in one. And it's a wonderful model for thinking about
parks.
Another element is reclamation: we can create parks from landfills, as they
have begun
to do on Spectacle Island here in Boston Harbor. At one point, the common wisdom
was
simply to cap a landfill with four feet of usable earth to deal with the methane
problem.
If we had special factories to convert these dumps - to use the methane - we
could go to
the bottom of the problem, not simply cover it up. And maybe in the process of
going to
the bottom of the problem, we could turn the reclamation process into something
that's
scientifically educative and at the same time visually entertaining.
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