Urban photography needs snap judgement

Taking good urban and architectural photos requires snap judgment to capture spontaneous city moments.

I usually find I get the best shots when I’m least expecting it – the light may looks particularly nice when I’m out to meet friends, or the roads may be emptier than normal on my way to work. But because carrying a big DSLR camera around can be pretty damn awkward, I’ve been waiting for the day that a camera phone is just as good in quality.

After hearing that EE was bringing out the Huawei P9 co-engineered with one of my favourite camera companies, Leica, I was super keen to try it out. Thanks to EE, it wasn’t long before I had one in my hands on one and was heading out for a day on my bike in London.

Riding towards Canary Wharf, I checked out some Brutalist architecture in London’s east end. From Balfron Tower to the Isle of Dogs, I meandered my way through dozens of estates, capturing the shapes of the concrete buildings around me.

Lying awkwardly in the grass, trying to get a photo of famous 1970s, Robin Hood Gardens, I was approached by an elderly man who told me that the buildings would soon to be demolished. I suddenly appreciated the ability to capture these buildings at this moment in time, right before the neighbourhood was to vanish… And who knows, the photos might even be worth money some day.

As I crossed into Canary Wharf, I was amazed by the sudden contrast from the 1970s concrete buildings I had just left to glass and steel now towering above me. I was now looking at some of Europe’s tallest skyscrapers - all mirroring the beautiful blue sky and fluffy clouds above. While I would never want to live or work in this financial district, I knew that when the sun was out – like it was today - it was an awesome place to photograph.

As I pointed the Huawei P9 towards the towering office blocks above, I appreciated the camera’s wide lens, which helped me to fit the enormous buildings in frame. This is something I’ve always used on my DSLR, but have never had the benefit of on a camera phone. And just like my camera, the P9 also comes with manual features like shutter speed and ISO, which enabled me to make the most of the heavy shadows over me when converting to black and white.

I soon found myself riding through London’s city centre, photographing the strange triangular shape of the Leadenhall Building, the dome-like roof of The Gherkin and the rugged rawness of the Barbican Estate. After a week of rain, I couldn't have asked for better weather to shoot in.

Towards Tower Bridge, I was confronted by a bottleneck of traffic, and soon realised that the bridge had risen to let a boat pass through. After years of living in this city, I’d never seen this old bridge open its gates.

Just as a cyclist rode ahead of me, the road over the bridge ahead lifted itself vertically. I quickly took out my phone and grabbed a shot of the man on his bike in front of the vertical road. As I looked at the photo I’d just taken, I realized how few people would have had the opportunity to capture such a moment. Standing in the middle of one of the world’s most famous bridges, I snapped a view that few others had seen. A spontaneous moment forever recorded - I was quickly falling in love with having a high quality camera phone.

As much as I love my DSLR, taking the P9 out for the day showed me that the concept of the camera phone has now been reinvented and can almost compete with even the best digital cameras. Unlike DSLRs however, it fits straight in my pocket, ready to capture any moment, at anytime. The marriage of EE’s super fast network and dual lens camera makes the Huawei P9 the perfect smart phone when I’m on the road and want to capture spontaneous moments.

All photos taken on the Huawei P9. In collaboration with EE, the 4G Network that’s 50% faster than O2, Vodafone and Three. 

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Music and Cities: Berlin

When I think of Berlin, the things that jump to mind are huge warehouse spaces, hard techno music, late night parties, and a city of free and liberal-minded people. It was probably one of my favourite films, Berlin Calling, which long ago planted this image in my head.

The city is considered the techno capital of the world, and Mali and I wanted to find out why. What better way to do this than to hit some parties, meet some DJs, and talk to the locals and urbanists?

After touching down in Schönefeld Airport, it wasn’t long before we were romping around Kreuzberg. As we explored, it was quick to see that this part of Berlin had a very different look and feel of cities of Western Europe: huge city blocks and old warehouse buildings lined the streets, grey concrete walls crumbled around us and dark alleyways stretched into the darkness. The neighbourhoods felt hard and weathered: an exciting, unrefined vibe, far from the lights and glitz of Champs-Élysées.

Trying our best to avoid the sub-zero temperatures we hustled into a coffee shop to meet long-time locals, Fanny Rybarsch and William R Wilkendorf. As city enthusiasts and owners of street-music company, Klara Geist, it was clear these guys knew a thing or two about the city.

Reflecting on his long history in Berlin, William told us about the alternative, and even anarchist, nature of the city. The Berlin Wall, he said, very likely played a strong role in creating this. East Berliners lived in a surveillance state, and on both sides, attempts to cross to the other side to meet friends or loved ones was likely to end in death. In addition, the wall created small neighborhood enclaves sitting against the Spree River. For decades these areas became run-down and derelict. But this also meant that rent was cheap, which attracted squatters, people making art, talking politics, and creating music.

With the rise of groups like Kraftwerk, electronica music began to hit the mainstream, and naturally Berlin’s alternative neighbourhoods were at the forefront of this music scene.

Heading north of the river to Friedrichstrasse we were welcomed into the home of Dr Jan Kuhn. Both a DJ and urban sociologist, he had for a long time explored the city’s relationship with the electro music scene. He talked us through the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, and how the once divided city finally became unified.

Suddenly, the suppressed eastern side of the city was free to live in and travel to the West. And what were isolated neighbourhoods like Kreuzberg, now sat right in the centre of what were once two cities.

With a combination of alternative thinking, liberal laws, cheap or empty spaces (a third of all buildings in west Berlin were unoccupied when the wall came down), and an already pumping music scene, it wasn’t long before the now united Berlin became the world’s centre for electronic music.

Heading out into the night, it was apparent to us that this was a city that came alive after dark. Mitte’s streets permeated with lights and music flowed from the buildings and down the streets. All around us people from across the globe out to party, and even before midnight, the city’s famous kebab shops were filled with people seeking some post-alcohol sustenance.

Fortunate enough to meet some of the city’s most impressive up-and-coming DJs, we soon learned why artists from both around the country, and around the world are continually attracted to the city.

Christoph Etmars (aka Escape to Mars) told us, “Berlin is the place to find yourself and your music… We have so many kinds of electronica music in Berlin…. That’s why Berlin, is Berlin, I think. ”

Vom Feisten couldn’t have agreed more, “Here is the new centre of this music in the world… People from all over the world come together, meet each other, work on different projects… the newest and biggest labels are from Berlin."

As we partied late in the city's bars and clubs, we felt the vibe that these DJs  got from their city. People around us had an energy to them - a slight edge. While the city is now unified, I guess Berlin’s sense of anarchy lives on in the music… and late into the night.

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Music and Cities: Paris

We probably couldn’t have arrived in Paris at a more interesting - or uneasy - time in recent history. Just a couple of weeks after the horrific attacks on the city, we set foot on the Champs-Élysées and were taking in the sites, sounds and vibes of this incredible town.

The mood was somewhat sombre and the people we met were visibly shaken from the recent events, but as we would quickly learn, Paris is a city of unity and cohesion, and shows amazing resilience even at the worst of times. People continued to socialise on the streets, with red wine flowing - in true defiant Parisian style.

France is home to the second largest hip hop scene outside the United States, and the Parisian suburbs are key in the development of its hop-hop culture.

Much of the city’s hip hop music influence is drawn from poor living conditions, in central and out-of-town housing estates. Residing in HLM rent-controlled housing, many French rappers draw upon their upbringing in this environment as a source of inspiration for their lyrics. In particular, places like Le Brake, La Chapelle, Clichy-Sous-Bois and the 18th Arrondissement are considered neighbourhoods which have directly influenced some of the most prominent rappers in French hip hop.

But although Paris’ underprivileged urban areas have led rappers to express themselves about social segregation – the act of doing so – also brings them together.

When we spoke with the awesome Cecile (‘Pumpkin’) Unia, she told us about the recent attacks on the Bataclan nightclub. “It was just a few weeks earlier that I was there”, she said, “they could have been my friends and fans.”

As Cecile spoke, it was clear that there was a strong sense of community among the Parisian hip hop scene. She told us about the sense of brotherhood and sisterhood among local musicians, as well as the city’s open spaces, venues and events which bring artists together to network, learn and hang out. It was clear that these two things went hand-in-hand: the physical spaces within the city itself had directly helped to create the deep connections that the artists have with one another.

Sitting at the intersection of multiple metro lines, for example, the area of Les Halles has for a long time been considered an important part of local hip hop culture. People from different neighbourhoods across the city once travelled to its underpasses and disused spaces to break-dance and rap together.

When the government embarked upon a large scale neighbourhood regeneration scheme, local community groups argued that hip hop should be integrated back into the local community as part of its redevelopment. Fortunately the government listened. It wasn't long before hip hop enthusiast Jean-Marc Meogeot, was put in charge to help develop the a new hip hop venue for the Parisian community. It’s a good thing that Jean-Marc dreams big – because these are no small plans.

When built, the Paris Hip Hop Centre will provide huge spaces for hip hop artists to create and perform dance and music. With dozens of recording studios and classrooms, the centre will be important for local artists to turn their hobby into something much bigger.

Importantly, for the same reason that attracted artists to hang out in the Les Halles in the first place, the centre will still be blessed by the nearby metro station, which will allow people to come together from all across the city, including its vast suburbs.

As we learned from the artists we met, the space to perform and record in the city is important. Because after all - hip hop isn’t just about unity – it’s also about success.

Urban sociologist and geographer Severin Guilliard told us, “Parisian urban space is something that artists can use and reproduce… it’s going to be easier for artists in Paris to succeed in rap music, than the artists coming in from other areas of France.”

The city of Paris gives hip hop musicians resources and connections, and this enables them to compete on a global scale – even with the United States.

If you want to find success in the Parisian rap scene, you don’t need to search much further than Gaellino 'Lino' M’Bani.

From the early days of rapping with his brother in Arsenik, he remains today one of the godfathers of French hip hop. Perhaps it was the images from his recent video clip which had stuck firmly in my mind, but I have to admit, as we welcomed him into our hotel, I felt a little intimidated.

It didn’t take long however, before we realised that there was nothing to be intimidated by. Like the artists we’d met before him, Lino was with us to talk about the scene and the city he loved. When we mentioned that we’d met with “Pumpkin” before him, his eyes lit up, “oh yeah I know her - she’s good!” There was no doubt that he shared a unity with the other artists across the city. Lino summed it up best himself, “Paris is the capital where everything comes together”.

The sad events from a couple of weeks before had shocked the world, but there was no doubt that Paris was resilient. Clearly, music has played a strong role in creating such a strong and unified city... Vive la Paris!

Check out the film below.

Tom

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Music and Cities: Manchester

Growing up, I always connected the bands and music I loved to the places they came from. To me, The Strokes epitomised New York City, the Rolling Stones were London, my favourite punk bands represented San Diego and LA, and of course New Order and Joy Division typified the ex-industrial, northern England powerhouse of Manchester.

I hadn’t ever really thought about this concept until last year on a trip to Copenhagen with Mali. Hanging out in Vesterbro, we learned that this part of the city was - and still is - Europe’s answer to New Orleans. As we walked around, Jazz music was pumping from the bars and down the streets. How was it that this neighbourhood hundreds of miles from its traditional US roots had become a centre for Jazz?

Then and there, Mali and I decided that not only was ‘Music and Cities’ a cool idea to explore, but with Mali being a musician and me an urbanist, it would bring our interests together, and hopefully let us explore some cool places.

A few months later, the awesome guys and girls at Bench had given us loads of support, we had a rad production crew on board, and were off to Manchester to learn about the city and its music.

I always had an image in my mind that Manchester was a harsh and raw sort of place. As our train crept up from London, into Stockport and then Manchester’s southern neighbourhoods, I could already begin to understand why I had imagined the city this way.

The huge warehouse blocks spread into the distance and the old red brick factories were reminiscent of the industrial years I’d learned about in high school history. The place looked un-polished and real, just as I’d hoped it would.

Manchester’s music scene is commonly associated with well-known names like The Smiths, Stone Roses, Oasis, Joy Division and Factory Records, as well as dudes like Graeme Park and Clint Boon who were instrumental in developing club culture - first in the city, and then across the world. But as we’d soon learn, there was so much more to Manchester’s music scene than seen on the surface.

While rock and indie continues to thrive, music in this city has never had a distinct style or genre. Instead, the common-thread throughout Manchester’s music scene is an attitude and way-of-thinking.

The Mancunian spirit is not about following other’s ideas, or old rule books – its about doing things in a unique way, and usually with a ‘fuck you’ attitude.

As we watched Isaac, the lead singer of Not Hot Ashes, throw himself to the ground in what would normally be considered an intimate and quirky music venue, it was clear that the Mancunian spirit was well-and-truly thriving in even the young generation. This spirit has no doubt come from its past, with the city having always succeeded by creating something from nothing.

The Northern Quarter, tucked inside the city centre, was in the early 20th century, the heart of the city’s industrial revolution. Filled with factories, warehouses and markets, its streets were lined with thousands of people, rich and poor, trying to create success in one of the world’s most prosperous cities.

Only a few decades later however, this was all set to change. Manchester was badly bombed in World War II and technological change meant that hardcore industrial machinery was no longer the backbone of the English economy. With no need for huge factory spaces, the inner core of Manchester no longer resembled a modern, advanced city, but more like something of a deserted dystopia.

Thousands of people had left the run-down inner city, and took off to the suburbs. But of course, in line with the spirit of Manchester, it didn’t take long before its failure, became its next success.

As we sat in a beautiful ex-warehouse office space, urbanist David Rudlin told us, “In the 70’s Manchester was Detroit. You could get stuff pretty much for free… But one of the things that makes cities creative is the opportunity to experiment, which means you need space which is cheap,” he continued, “but when you get a reputation for being a creative quarter, you attract more creative people.”

The demise of the city meant there was loads of free space for people to experiment, be themselves, and break-down traditional career norms by making something, from seemingly, nothing. People were doing their own thing, in their own way, and this was exactly what enabled Manchester to become one of the most creative cities in the world.

Me and Mali-Koa Hood hanging on a Mancunian rooftop

What we learned from David was echoed by the urbanists and musicians we continued to meet.

As we walked with the legendary Graeme Park amongst huge 19th century factories, which were now leased by trendy cafes and retailers, he told us about the former Hacienda nightclub, which is now considered the birth of clubbing culture. Nothing more than a disused warehouse in the ‘80s, The Hacienda gave young creative’s a cheap place to connect with one another, make music, share ideas and, of course, party. It seems these are the crucial ingredients to a developing successful idea in the city of Manchester.

But as we learned, it wasn’t just the city’s musicians and creatives who were able to make something new. It was the urbanists too.

Wearing a heavy set coat and moustache to match, Tom Bloxham doesn’t look like your average smug property developer. Rather than just cashing in on cheap property, Tom was instrumental in regenerating entire areas of the city by buying up derelict, disused buildings and turning them into beautiful, creative and inspiring places. As Clint Boon put it best, “Tom Bloxham was inspired by the punk spirit”.

Similarly, Ross McKenzie decided that selling records in the market was cool, but starting his own bars and clubs in the city centre would be even better. It wasn’t long before he was one of the biggest names in the city’s music venue scene.

As we continued to meet some of the biggest names in Manchester, it was clear to us that while its music scene is best known from the '80s and early '90s, it’s creative edge is unlikely to die for generations to come.

But maybe it was Ruth Daniel, a young cultural producer and social entrepreneur, who taught us the true importance of the Mancunian spirit. We learned the city’s ability to succeed isn’t just about the making good art, music or money, but its about ensuring that everyone has the ability to succeed. It’s not about who or what you know, but it’s about having confidence and drive to do things differently and better than others before you. People from all kinds thrive in this city because they’re not afraid to do it their own way.

I guess Ruth put it best when she told us, “people want to break the rules here, and I love that about Manchester”.

Mali and I were amazed at what we’d learned simply by asking people how music the city had influenced music – and vice versa... I guess our interests aren’t that different after all.

The people we met and the places we saw on our first stop blew us away. Thanks loads everyone. Next up - Paris!

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Trip to Sydney: 2016

I’ve just come home to what I consider one of the most beautiful cities on the planet – but just for a few weeks. As I flew back into Sydney I immediately fell back in love with the city.

The plane glided across the inner-west and I was confronted with the majestic Harbour Bridge and the city’s incredible skyline. With faces pressed hard against the windows, the passengers arriving from our last stop in Guangzhao were surely impressed.

After just a couple of weeks of re-immersing myself, I feel like although the city has made some really good steps in evolving into a modern 21st century city, it’s also taken some steps backwards.

The development of a new motorway through the inner suburbs (WestConnex), the implementation of lock-out laws, the removal of bicycle paths, and increased fines for bike riders for not wearing a helmet surely do nothing to make this city progress in a positive trajectory. In my view, these changes act to only stifle culture, relocate alcohol-related problems, and slow the city from reaching a sustainable mobility future.

At the same time however, dozens of beautiful new buildings have graced the skyline (Park Central being particularly beautiful), interesting new fashion trends have emerged, craft beer culture appears to be booming, and small bars and cafes continue to thrive. 

Furthermore, dense transit-oriented development and a more efficient transport payment system (OPAL) seems to be helping to promote more sustainable forms of travel.

Everything I've said, of course, is just from initial observations, so after I do some more research, I’ll put together some pieces that talk about some of these changes in some more depth.

In the mean time, if you need me, I’ll be cruising on my bike and drinking beers in the sunshine in one of the most beautiful places on the planet... Let's just hope the police don't give me a fine for not wearing a helmet.

It's good to be home.

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What is Templehof?

A couple of weeks ago I took off to Berlin to explore the city. A few friends suggested we head out to 'Templehof' one afternoon. I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about.

Walking from the amazing Kreuzberg (and getting lost in a cemetery along the way), I decided to finally ask the question, "Ahhh guys, what is Templehof, anyway!?" The response wasn't really what I was expecting. The answer I got was simply "abandoned airport".

Having checked out quite a few cities, I've been managed to see some pretty interesting places: Africa's largest slum, a huge urban reservoir in the south of Spain, and to the top of the world's tallest building. I never thought however, that I would be standing in the middle of Berlin in a derelict Nazi-Germany airport, comprising what still is today, one of the world's largest buildings.

Laying in the grass, soaking up the last of the Autumn sunshine, I decided I'd do a bit of googling about the place that surrounded me. The more I dug, the more I found it difficult to believe where I actually was.

Built in 1927 this place was for a long time one the world's busiest airports - often referred to as the gateway to Europe. Designed by the Nazi government to resemble an eagle in flight from above, the airport is still considered by one of the world's most renowned architects "one of the greatest buildings of the modern age".

As I looked towards the main building I could see an old US troops carrier with stars embedded on its side. The plane looked more like something out of a 1950s Hollywood film then something that belonged in the deepest depths of Germany. Well, there's a reason why it was sitting there. Directly on the divide between the east and the west, Templehof was the epicentre of a global political divide. At the end of the World War II and into the Cold War, Templehof became the key air base for US forces in Europe.

As I heard bellowing electronic music begin to bellow from one of the hangars, how was it then that a place of such historical significance was now a place for parties, beers, sports and generally mulling about?

In typical Berlin-style, what could have become a derelict old airport was slowly opened to the public. By 2010 the government decided that instead of redeveloping the land for prime real estate, it would be opened as a massive public park. Then, in September 2015, it was decided that it would also be used to temporarily house Syrian refugees.

What the government and voters have decided to forego in short-term financial gain, has built a long-term asset which not only gives the local community and tourists an amazing place to hang out, but helps to build Berlin's brand as an incredibly liberal, unique and creative global city.

Berlin is a city which has been tormented by an incredibly dark past. This history hasn't been erased. Instead, it's been recaptured and re-invented to develop itself as one of the most forward-thinking cities in the world. Seriously, if you're in Berlin, take a stroll to this strange and wonderful place - it's worth it.

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3 observations from Amsterdam

I hadn’t been to Amsterdam for a few years, so I was pretty excited to head back there last week.

You can learn a lot about a place just by observing it. Café culture, nightlife and architecture are all indications of what a city is like. Even subtler than that is what people wear, how they travel and converse. People-watching – in my opinion - is a far better way to understand a city than reading a book or heading out on a bus tour. After a few days of cruising around the city by foot and bike, I made a couple of observations below.

1. bikes are still loved in winter

Amsterdam is a bicycle city – just about everyone knows that. Coming from the hot and sweaty landmass on the other side on the other side of the world, I’ve always wondered how Amsterdam’s cold winter temperatures and minimal daylight hours impact upon people’s desire to ride. In short, this seems to have very little effect.

Early morning before the sun is up and the air is ice cold, bike paths into the city centre are packed with bikes. While the weather may sound a little grim, people aren't deterred at all. Actually, it would be interesting to understand the happiness levels of car drivers, public transport users and bikes riders in winter in Amsterdam. I’m certain those on bikes would be far happier than the rest. As in any city, people on bikes can have random conversations, stop in and out of shops en-route and observe early morning street life. Driving a car simply doesn't give you the joy that riding a bike does.

Over and over I've been told that cities should not – or can not – adopt Dutch cycling culture because of weather and climate. Unless you're talking these temperatures, that's a load of rubbish. I’ve heard this argument in cities with far milder temperatures than Amsterdam, and with far less rain too. When you have the right infrastructure and a culture supportive of bikes, cycling works in all times of the year.

2. Too much of one type of tourism is damaging the city centre

I know this is a pretty bold statement and is based on observation only. But the city centre is absolutely packed to the brim with 'Euro-trip' Australians, English hen parties and stoned Americans. Not that I have a problem with any of this in principle, but when a beautiful historic city centre is inundated with drug and party tourism culture, it begins to look and feel a little naf. Rather than a liberal city that is accepting of liberal attitudes, a large part of its economy looks to be solely reliant on a single type of tourism. As a result it feels like the city is developing around its tourism narrative rather than evolving as an actual place. This isn't good for locals or the future of the tourism industry.

The liberal Dutch attitude is a wonderful thing. The problem however, is that other countries are not so liberal. As a result, Amsterdam city centre has become a mecca for 'lads on tour’. Tacky neon signs hanging from beautiful brick work, café signs reading “American steaks” and an abundance of English football jerseys are just a few telling signs that the city centre is in stress.

Now, I know that the internationalisation of urban centres is well-discussed problem in the age of globalised economies and broken-down borders, but I’d argue that city’s like Amsterdam need to understand how its tourism economy can be essentially self-destructing. It's becoming increasingly obvious that the commercialisation of places and products actually leads retail centres to become far less competitive in a world where distinctiveness is increasingly vital to attract and maintain a healthy tourism trade. As place branding and marketing has grown in importance, urban markets in London for example, are quickly trying to rediscover what made them unique in the first place.

Perhaps its time for Amsterdam to recognise and enhance what makes the city a great place for locals. This will naturally translate into a strength for tourism.

3. People are amazing

The best part about going to a new city is meeting new people, and generally when you step put into a new place you get a vibe straight away. Are people smiley, polite, and do they have a warm aura? Although I'd been to Amsterdam before, I was immediately overwhelmed with how amazing people were. There is so much warmth and love in that city - it's incredible.... Maybe it's just a Dutch thing!

How well do you know Amsterdam? Any thoughts on these observations?

Photos by Tom Oliver Payne. 

Without Urban Strategy, is Australia Planning to Fail?

National governments across the globe are showing a growing appreciation for the economic importance of cities. In taking an increasingly strategic approach to the development and management of powerful economic and cultural urban nodes, they’re attempting to diversify economies and invest money where it matters most. In the wake of the recession, this policy shift has been particularly strong in the UK.

Australia on the other hand, seems to be moving in the opposite direction. With the end of the resources boom in sight, perhaps it’s time ‘the lucky country’ took a long, hard look at its urban agenda. For hundreds of years, we’ve been obsessed with the nation-state paradigm. But the idea of inter-national coordination has largely failed. The United Nations has no teeth, every climate talk since Rio (1992) has failed to bring practical solutions, and the global recession has presented us with panicking national governments with little control over globalised economic systems.

With over half of the world’s population now living in urban areas, we’re seeing the emergence of a network that is more about action than stubborn nationalism. Operating across international borders, our global network of cities forms the economic and environmental collaboration that national governments cannot.

As Benjamin Barber has put it, national governments are based on “ideology”, while cities are all about “getting things done”. Cities are bound together by trade and economics, innovation and entrepreneurship, common attributes and common values. Cities are where things happen; national governments are where politicians talk.

The growing realisation of the importance of cities has sparked policy shifts worldwide: Korea is scaling-up regional city growth to diversify economic activity, Poland has recently developed a national urban strategy to become economically competitive with greater Europe, and Brazil has created a City Statute to give municipalities increased power and finance.

The UK has seen the development of a Cities Policy Unit and a host of new strategies that attempt to create a fundamental movement away from federal power to that of mayors and cities. The newly appointed Minister for Cities has called for a new era to create city systems and systems of cities. The former is concerned with equipping local leaders to strengthen productivity, liveability and sustainability outcomes, and the latter is about actively supporting urban networks as a whole, including connectivity and city specialisation. This includes investing into infrastructure such as broadband, high-speed rail and airports. The Technology Strategy Board has already made substantial investments into the Future Cities Demonstrator and Future Cities Catapult, which aim to enhance urban innovation.

With growing importance on the city scale, urban political leadership is now a hot topic. Charismatic mayors like Boris Johnson and George Ferguson are winning support by implementing real solutions to environmental and economic issues. Less focused on ideology and more focused on answers, its no wonder Johnson has been titled the most popular politician in Britain over his central government counterparts.

Tucked down on the other side of the world however, we’re seeing powers taken from Australian cities and mayors, rather than given to them. After almost a decade of developing a vibrant nighttime economy, Sydney Mayor Clover Moore’s work has been badly bruised by conservative state premier’s controversial new drinking laws. O’Farrell’s arbitrarily located restrictions are not supported by any research to indicate that they will reduce violence. Instead, they look to create late night transit chaos and hamper Sydney’s buzzing nightlife economy.

Rather than developing a strategy based on citywide coordination, it seems the new legislation was an opportunity for the state premier to simply flex his political might. While Mayor Clover Moore is about “getting things done”, O’Farrell’s policies are based on political gain.

Issues such as these are all too common in Australia. As underfunded local councils struggle to coordinate important planning processes with the powerful state governments above, planning and economic development remains an under-resourced, ad hoc process. Australia is in serious need of city systems and systems of cities strategies.

Just two years ago there was progress in making this happen. Australia’s previous government created the Major Cities Unitwhich outlined key long-term priorities for urban productivity and sustainability. Highly regarded by academia, as well as infrastructure, planning and property councils, the Unit showed promise for strategic city alignment, including investment into high-speed rail.

Today, all investment into the Unit has been withdrawn and momentum towards a national urban strategy has come to a halt. Not only does Prime Minister Tony Abbott have blatant disregard for the natural environment but he also struggles to see the importance of investing into research and long-term strategy, even when concerned with economic growth.

Australia remains plagued by a three-tiered governance structure that stifles coordination: citywide governance is fragmented (dozens of local councils with no metropolitan authority), local to state government relationships are a political battle, and federal intra-city investment is non-existent.

Countries affected by recession have worked to develop national policies to diversify industry and build economic resilience. In the meantime, Australia has stood back with its eyes closed. With the resource boom beginning to slow, perhaps now’s the time for Australia to rethink how its cities can develop and integrate into the growing global urban network.

This article was originally written for This Big City and is also available in Spanish.

Feature image courtesy This Big City.

Introduction to Next-Gen Cities feature series

We live in a new urban era. Not only do more people now live in cities than rural areas, but urban populations in the developing world are expected to more than double from 2.5 billion in 2009 to nearly 5.2 billion in 2050.

Urban populations in the developing world are expected to more than double from 2.5 billion in 2009 to nearly 5.2 billion in 2050

With this tremendous growth, cities are taking on new meaning; they are the centres of cultural diffusion, financial boom and bust, opportunity, prosperity and, as we have recently seen, solidarity.

Arguably, cities have surpassed the nation-state as key economic units and global organising nodes. With this, we have entered a new age of city competition as each fight for world city status, the largest events or the most important businesses. The current urban era is like nothing this planet has ever seen before.

The governance mechanisms and processes that manage our cities have been unable to cope with such change. Traditional ways of thinking about formality, traffic engineering, property development and architecture are quickly being overturned by a new urbanist movement; a movement that places the importance back on the human scale.

We are seeing a movement away from traditional zoning methods, egotistic architecture and car domination. Slowly but surely, we are also seeing the demise of the greedy downtown property developer. Perhaps if anything, the GFC has helped to spur this progress.

With this new wave of thinking, we are seeing a new wave of professionals including planners, architects, engineers, politicians, scholars and activists, who are quickly transforming the cities in which we live. Around the world, progressive thinkers are achieving amazing things. Whether its bridging the rich and poor housing gap, getting cycling on the infrastructure agenda, designing creating youth spaces or chair-bombing a local park, we are seeing rapid urban changes around the world.

This series for the Urban Times will hone in on cities across the globe to speak with the next generation of urban professionals who are particularly innovative in they way that they think. City-by-city, this series will take you on a journey across the globe to find give you an insight into the future of the urban.

I'll keep you up to date on the article numero uno.

Can you imagine life without light?

Life as we know it would be very different without artificial light. By recognising the evolution of urban illumination in the two cities of London and Nairobi (where I went on a recent trip), we can understand how and why we've become so energy dependent. This comparison also reveals that, perhaps now more than ever, it's time to embrace new technologies.

Light is a form of energy. Simply, it’s a type of electromagnetic radiation that can be detected by the eye. This form of energy completely dictates our human existence. We in the ‘West’ have become very dependent on artificial light; without it, life would be very different. Yet we take light for granted. The hundreds of years that it’s taken to develop lighting technology for our homes, transport systems, streets and personal devices rarely cross our minds. For most of us, light is as simple as a flick of a switch.

This hasn’t always been the case. Civilizations across the globe were once subjected to the vulnerabilities of nightfall. In fact, it wasn’t very long ago. It’s only been over the last 100 years that cities have implemented electric lighting grids to power homes and streets. This development however, has not been global.

To imagine the darkness that continues to engulf cities and towns across Africa, I’ll first take you back in time to look at the journey that London has taken to become “the great city of the midnight sun”.

“Ye might say… that we’re ladin’ an artyficyal life, but, by Hivins, ye might as well tell me I ought to be paradin’ up and down a hillside with a suit iv skins… an’ livin’ in a cave as to make me believe I ought to get along without… ilictirc lights” 

– Mr Dooley, 1906 (The City as a Summer Resort)

London was once a very dark place and unsafe place (yep, probably even more so than now). While living room fires and other illuminants, such as oil lamps and cannels, were used for special purposes, the only means for continuous lighting from the middle ages until the end of the 18th century was the candle.

A “night walker” was not only regarded with suspicion, but any unauthorized person caught roaming the streets after 9pm was arrested by the police. Over the course of the next 300 years, the city’s laws were continuously adjusted to ensure strict specifications for the use of lanterns to correspond with moonlight at different times of the year. Moving into the 18th Century, London saw the development of more permanent gas lamps as demand for lighting continued to increase.

There were three major reasons for increased demand in street lightingduring the early 1800s. Firstly, night-work and leisure continued to increase. Secondly, street lighting enabled those in rich neighbourhoods to contrast themselves from the poor. Thirdly, and perhaps the most obvious reason, was for safety.

One Londoner, Frederick Howe, wrote that street lights “guarded persons and property from violence and depredation… Every improved mode to street lighting the public streets is an auxiliary to protective justice”. The development of the electricity grid in the 1890s saw the delivery of widespread public lighting across the city.

With the evolution of new technology, London not only saw a transformation of the city, but it saw a transformation of the lives within it. Living in the ‘Western’ cities, it is easy to forget the contributions that the evolution of light has made to modern urban society. That is, until we experience life without light today.

In other parts of the world however, darkness is the norm. At the same time as electric lighting was being delivered on a large scale across London, the city of Nairobi was only just being founded. 

In 2003, both London and North East America experienced major blackouts, impacting half a million and almost 50 million respectively. In both cases, major urban centres came to a standstill and our extremely vulnerable reliance on modern lighting was revealed.

In other parts of the world however, darkness is the norm. At the same time as electric lighting was being delivered on a large scale across London, the city of Nairobi was only just being founded. Today, as one of the most prominent political and financial centres on the African continent, it is a city of deep contrasts. While most of Nairobi stands relatively ‘developed’ (with widespread connection to the electricity grid), a third of its population live in informal settlements – remaining off the electricity grid.

On a recent trip to the city, I was able to visit two major slums to talk with locals about their living experiences. Far from the glum scenarios that are often portrayed in the media, these exciting neighbourhoods seemed to be thriving both culturally and economically. However, two major infrastructure issues were clear; water and lighting. While some residents have chosen to illegally hook up electricity from surrounding grids, this expensive and dangerous process (with local gangs profiting from the procedure) is generally unaffordable for Nairobi’s two-million or more slum dwellers.

Upon a visit to the Mathare slum Community Light Centre, I was fortunate enough to speak with a young lady from World Coaches who had spent her childhood playing football in the neighbourhood. Martha explained to me that Mathare had a highly organised football league comprised of 16 zones across the slum district (another realisation that these informal settlements are far from the messy, disorganised places that I once imagined). She told me:

“I grew up a Tom-boy… I starting playing football when I was 12, but my Mum didn’t like it. She told me it was a boy’s game. When I was young, we couldn’t play in the dark, we went home… there was always a danger traveling in the dark. I didn’t feel threatened though, I had nothing to lose. But it was unsafe. I know it was unsafe. I feel it now when I visit.”

Asking her about the benefits that the new solar-powered Light Centre will bring to Mathare, I sensed the excitement that she felt for the transformation of her old community. To me, it was a sudden realisation of the extent to which I took lighting for granted in my own neighbourhood. Martha explained:

“These lights are not only helping football… It’s helping young people in terms of security… not only security… shops shut early because it is dark.  Even if shops can stay open just one more hour, it will have benefits to the local economies. I’m telling you, things will change”.

Thinking about the strict rules and regulations that once dictated the use of lighting across London, I wondered about the spatial tensions that may arise from only a partial delivery of public lighting within Nairobi slums. I decided to ask Martha. Embarrassingly, it was a stupid question:

“There will be no tensions… These communities are well organised and can take care of themselves. They know the benefits and will set up schedules when they need to.”

Continually underestimating the power of communal governance in Kenya’s slums, I was once again reminded of the amazing capability of local residents to share resources. Her statements also confirmed to me that when it comes to lighting and water infrastructure – every little bit helps.

The concept of light has strikingly different meanings in London and the slums of Nairobi. In the slums, light is seen as a wonderful asset that has the ability to provide new opportunities in safety, education, health and sports. In the UK, on the other hand, light is an element of everyday life that’s generally taken for granted. In a sense, the trip to the slums of Nairobi seemed a little like stepping back into 19th Century London.

On the other hand however, travelling to the slums of Nairobi was also like glancing into the future. With some of the planet’s highest levels of annual sunlight, and without the need to retrofit pre-existing infrastructure, some of Africa’s poorest, yet most resourceful neighbourhoods are rapidly advancing in the solar-powered lighting revolution.

While the implementation of more efficient LED-lighting is makingprogress in larger, ‘developed’ cities, such progress remains slow. As authorities drag their feet on climate change policy, urban infrastructure generally remains unsustainable and incredibly energy-inefficient.

Due to advancements in LED technology over the last decade, lighting has made incredible progress in efficiency and functionality. These improvements have the ability to play a major role in curbing energy usage, and human-induced climate change as a result.

Perhaps now, more than ever, cities like London should be paying attention to the progression of lighting technology. The slums of Nairobi not only provide a history lesson on life without light, but also provide examples of highly advanced, sustainable urban illumination.