urban design

In the south of Sri Lanka by Tom Oliver Payne

Last week I was making a trip from Sydney to London so I decided to stop off in the south of Sri Lanka for a few days. Colombo was incredible: people, street food, construction, colour and chaos. I also jumped on a train south to check out Galle and Unawatuna, where I had a great time surfing. 

The thing that struck me most about Colombo was the tall building construction boom. It seemed that everywhere I looked were towers being built. The entire southern edge of the city has been earmarked for development and will soon be the "Colombo International Financial Centre'. China is investing US$1 Billion into the project, which will include at least 3 60 storey towers. 

Across the city dozens of other tall buildings are now reaching into the sky. It'll be super interesting to see how Colombo evolves over the next decade. Street photos and a short film below. 

TOM_OLIVER_PAYNE_SL_12.png
TOM_OLIVER_PAYNE_SL_9.png
TOM_OLIVER_PAYNE_SL_2.png
TOM_OLIVER_PAYNE_SL_3.png
TOM_OLIVER_PAYNE_SL_8.png
TOM_OLIVER_PAYNE_SL_13.png
TOM_OLIVER_PAYNE_SL_1.png

INSTAGRAM

Reminding Sydney of Seidler by Tom Oliver Payne

For years, my brother, sister and I would take my grandfather to the beach each Sunday. Arriving early to collect him from his eastern-Sydney flat, he would be perched on his balcony with a tea in his hand, admiring the greenery below.

Built in '66, my grandpaโ€™s building was one of the earliest apartment blocks designed by world-renowned Austrian-Australian architect, Harry Seidler.

Like all of Seidler's buildings, my grandfather's definitely has its imperfections: dead spaces, dark corridors and steep stairwells to name a few. But I can't imagine my Paps would have been happier in any other place.

Horizon Apartments in Darlinghurst, Sydney (1990-1998).

Horizon Apartments in Darlinghurst, Sydney (1990-1998).

The large open-plan living spaces, split levels and north-east facing balconies were bold innovations at the time of its design, and each aided his psychological and physical health right until his final days.

What was important about this building โ€“ and any of Seidler's for that matter โ€“ was the desire to push engineering boundaries, question planning authorities and pursue modernist design principles in the hope of improving peopleโ€™s lives. 

Harry followed strict architectural principles under the premise that they were egalitarian, optimised function, or would simply create a beautiful building. And while some of his schemes are, today, viewed as design failures (see Blue Point Tower), each was designed upon a set of values which tried - at least - to make Sydney a better place to live... Even if that meant frustrating his clients and local planning officers in the process. 

Probably the most iconic Harry Seidler building, Australia Square Tower (1961-1967). Photograph by the legendary Max Dupain. 

Probably the most iconic Harry Seidler building, Australia Square Tower (1961-1967). Photograph by the legendary Max Dupain

Harry Seidler in his home office. Photograph by David Moore. 

Harry Seidler in his home office. Photograph by David Moore. 

Since returning to the city from London a couple of months ago, Iโ€™ve noticed dozens โ€“ or possibly hundreds โ€“ of new high-rise developments, which resemble something akin to Ikea furniture, rather than architecture. These cookie-cut designs arenโ€™t only badly built, but very little thought has been given to their design. The core principles which were deeply rooted in Harry Seidler's architecture (as well as other great modernists of the 20th Century) have seemingly been ignored.

Aside from the use of bland materials and repetitive form, which is far from inspiring, the structures are often poorly integrated with the existing urban fabric, don't maximise nature or natural light, and contrary to their promised community benefit, their so-called โ€˜public spacesโ€™ look and feel like private gardens - dissected from surrounding neighbourhoods.

I guess it was Elizabeth Farrelly who put it best, โ€œwe used to think '60s apartments were austere and badly built. Now, they appear as paragons of generosity, grace and certitudeโ€

As large-scale residential architecture appears to have creatively stagnated (perhaps as a result of Sydney's muddled planning system), Harry Seidlerโ€™s work remains a reminder that this city's tall buildings can be creative, brave and innovative. 

More importantly, his architecture is a reminder that buildings are not just a commodity, but should seek โ€“ at the very least - to improve a city, and the wellness of the people within it.


INSTAGRAM

Dawsonโ€™s Heights: architecture with social conscience by Tom Oliver Payne

Architecture today is generally about making other people big bucks. But Dawson's Heights  reminds us of a time when architecture strived to create a better society through design. 

Land development today basically works like this: an investor will buy a plot of land, they then hire a developer with a track record of maximising value who will in turn hire architect who knows how to maximise floorspace. For the sake of profit, all parties will hope construction is over and done with as quick as possible, and each bit of land will sell for maximum value. Job done. 

But before you call me a pessimist, let me iterate that I don't necessarily think this process is all a bad thing. This process is simply a reaction to our economic market and continual development profits ensures a pipeline of construction and as a result, people - from construction workers to web designers - have jobs. 

Unfortunately however, development is too often, too greedy. Due to the speed and aggression of investors and developers, new buildings and spaces often lack quality design or a social conscience. What we are commonly left with is architecture with few zero-to-no societal benefits, doing nothing more than providing the mega-wealthy some real estate to dump their cash. Property has become more concerned with international asset management rather than the provision of housing or the creation of communities. 

Clearly, we've seen a recent swing towards capitalist-dominated architecture. But it hasnโ€™t always been this way. 

Dawson's Heights' northern block seen from its central public space.

Dawson's Heights' northern block seen from its central public space.

Back in the 60s, architecture in London operated in a very different context. Emerging from the Nazi bombings of World War II, the city was battered and bruised, and thousands were homeless or living in slums. The government took it upon itself to deliver tens of thousands of homes every year through mass redevelopment projects.

While often criticised for their top-down approach to design, no one can argue that they wereโ€™t at least ambitious, and at most, incredibly bold.

The Barbican Centre, Trellick Tower and Balfron are some of Londonโ€™s most famous examples. These brutalist monuments are remnants of a past when - although they didnโ€™t always get it right - architects could at least attempt to solve social problems through creative design. 

Not all of the examples from this time were dominating brutalist buildings. Some were smaller incisions in the existing urban fabric such as Golden Lane Estate, and others were modernist creations which boldly - but appropriately - inserted themselves into the remains of pre-war London.

Last week London opened its doors for Open House 2016 and I had the opportunity to check out one of the most impressive examples. 

A view worth millions: looking from the northern block of Dawson's Heights.

A view worth millions: looking from the northern block of Dawson's Heights.

In 1964, at just 28 years old, architect Kate Macintosh was given the job of designing Dawson's Heights in south London. 

Working for the Southwark local authority, Kate was given a job which today is almost unthinkable - the freedom to design new London housing on a large plot of vacant land. With strongly socialist parents and a clear drive to help generate social justice through architecture, Kate was given the opportunity to deliver a scheme which would stand the test of time.

Clearly, it has. 

Decades later Dawson's heights is now considered 'one of the most remarkable housing developments of the country'. 

As I walked through Dawson's Heights' many street-like corridors, and entered into its beautiful modernist flats, it was clear to me that this building was designed with a different agenda compared to developments today.   

It was built with a genuine ambition to create a community, and a more just society. Every decision that Kate made had logic to it: blocks were oriented to increase sunlight to  flats, room arrangements were such that every flat had a balcony, levels were split to improve acoustics, and the building's form and massing ensured an abundance of green space and views across the city from its public corridors.

Whether through a change in political-will or a shift in the behaviour of our markets, architecture may re-emerge as a discipline which seeks to fix societal problems. 

Until then, at least we have reminders from a time when it did. 

If you're interested in exploring London's most incredible buildings, be sure to check out Open House 2017

INSTAGRAM

 

Imitate to innovate: Vitoria-Gasteiz shows how cities can address 21st century challenges by Tom Oliver Payne

A few weeks ago I had the chance to travel down to Vitoria-Gasteiz with the European Commission, and in collaboration with the German NGO for sustainability, Verkehrsclub Deutschland (VCD). Basically, the idea was to get a bunch of urban-related journalists to learn about the city and spread the news about some of it's sustainable innovations. It was for the right reason. The city and the governance model which had been set up to bring about change was seriously impressive.

All I could think was, why aren't other cities using this approach? An article and short film were published to both This Big City and the Sustainable Cities Collective. For your ease, I've also provided below. Enjoy.

"Imitation is not just the sincerest form of flattery โ€“ itโ€™s the sincerest form of learning."

โ€“ Bernard Shaw

The Spanish city of Vitoria-Gasteiz has recently transformed itself from a congested and car-dominated city into one of the most pedestrian and bicycle-friendly places in Europe. It didnโ€™t achieve this by going at it alone. Its key to success was learning from others.

Cities today are faced with challenges like never before. Rapid population growth, increasing inequality, pollution and congestion are not isolated issues. Rather, they are problems faced by cities across the globe.

While some places are quickly learning to change their old ways and adapt to new circumstances, others are finding it a little more difficult. Perhaps itโ€™s time that those struggling cities to stop simply looking inward, and instead learned from others. After all, if people and businesses copy one-another to succeed, why canโ€™t cities?

We now know that our addiction to the car was one of the greatest urban mistakes of last century. Weaning ourselves off this addiction is now one of our greatest challenges. While some cities reconfigure to prioritise people over cars, others are still stuck in the 70s. Sadly, itโ€™s not only the environment that pays the price. Each year thousands of innocent people are killed because urban authorities canโ€™t seem to re-adapt cities for people, rather than for cars.

Over the past few weeks in London weโ€™ve seen outrage over the death of yet another cyclist. In all six of the deaths this year, the incidents involved a collision with a lorry. The problem is obvious: trucks and cars should not use the same lane of traffic as bicycles. The solution to this problem is also simple: separate the modes of transport.

Although people across London are fuming, there seems to be constant resistance to making logical junction and thoroughfare improvements. Surely the hundreds of innocent commuters dying in urban areas each year is enough for a city to make some drastic changes? Well, apparently not.

Although the cityโ€™s Mayor is an avid bike rider, plans to develop new bicycle infrastructure remain futile, and anything that has been achieved is ad-hoc and messy. While many progressive cities are quickly figuring it out, London (and many others), remain a dangerous place for people on bikes and on foot.

vg1.jpg

A couple of years ago, I did some research into why London was finding it so difficult to implemented Danish-style infrastructure. After speaking with experts in London, I took off to Copenhagen to experience riding in the city and speak with urban designers and government officials. It was obvious to see how a combination of traffic calming measures and separated bike paths create a city that is vibrant, safe and beautiful.

The research findings were simple: despite copying overseas lingo like โ€˜Cycle Superhighwaysโ€™, London doesnโ€™t really try to copy anyone. It tries to do things its own way. New designs try to please everybody, but in doing so, the results donโ€™t please anybody. What weโ€™re left with is a surface-transport mess. It simply doesnโ€™t work for pedestrians, drivers or those on bikes.

This year, I wanted to find a city that is doing things properly. I wanted to find a place that knows how it wants to improve and is quickly making the right changes to get there. The city I found was Vitoria-Gasteiz โ€“ the 2012 European Green City winner.

In just ten years Vitoria has completely transformed itself from a car-dominated, polluted city to one of the most pedestrian and bicycle-friendly in Europe (and probably the world). Today over 50% of people walk to get around and 12% of people ride bikes. The number of people driving cars quickly continues to fall. Compare this with 21% people walking and 3% riding bikes in London, and 10% and 1% respectively in New York City.

I took off down to Vitoria to see the city first-hand and meet some of the people making this transformation happen.

Speaking with the Director of the Environmental Studies Centre (CEA), Juan Carlos, I learned why the city embarked upon this rapid transformation. โ€œJust ten years ago, this city had a lot of problems with the car,โ€ Juan told me, โ€œbut people knew it shouldnโ€™t be like that, so we begun to think about how we could change itโ€.

The CEA receives funding from the city government but really only has one task at hand: improve the way the city functions. It independently advises the government on how it can improve, without getting bogged-down with day-to-day administration. This is very different to most other large cities, which leave important research and plan-making to oversized government bodies. With a relatively small team of a few dozen people, its no wonder the CEA quickly and effectively gets work done.

Juan told me that just ten years ago, the city decided to get off its backside and develop a progressive Sustainable Mobility and Public Space Plan. Instead of just looking inward, the team decided to see what other cities were doing to overcome similar problems. In collaboration with the German NGO for sustainability, Verkehrsclub Deutschland (VCD), Vitoria joined the European Biking Cities project. This enabled the city to learn from other urban areas with ambitious cycling policies.

When learning from others, Juan and his team didnโ€™t simply implement three-metre wide bike paths like Danish cities, or turn one-way streets to two-ways, like in American cities. Instead Vitoria copied and pasted intelligently. Successful elements from elsewhere were carefully integrated into the cityโ€™s own context and adjusted where necessary.

Vitoria implemented Copenhagen-style bike paths on wide thoroughfares (when it could afford to); it used the โ€˜superblockโ€™ idea from Barcelona to divert traffic and free up space for pedestrians; and it took greenways design characteristics from the Netherlands to create beautiful and attractive pedestrian environments, where people would actually want to spend time.

The Sustainable Mobility and Public Space Plan was then fully integrated with a new public transport plan. The aim was not to get as many people onto public transport as possible, but rather to get as many people out of cars as possible. Just like the caution surrounding Copenhagenโ€™s new tram network, the city was careful to ensure public transport did not detract from people walking and cycling, but rather only detracted from the number of those driving. This was achieved through careful network design.

Interviewing Juan Carlos, Director of the Environmental Studies Centre

Interviewing Juan Carlos, Director of the Environmental Studies Centre

Even as its population soars, Vitoria today is probably more beautiful and vibrant than ever. As I stood with my bike on wide, green boulevards, outside bustling cafes I was shown photographs of the same city streets just a few years earlier โ€“ they were almost beyond recognition.

Where cars were parked up on sidewalks, gardens beds now thrive. Where trucks and buses queued for hours in peak hour traffic, people walk and chat in a green corridor, which takes trams into and out of the city centre.

With so many people moving through, and spending time in public spaces, the city has a healthy, social vibe, which simply doesnโ€™t exist where the urban grain has been dissected by busy car thoroughfares. I couldnโ€™t help to imagine what larger cities like London, New York, Sydney and Singapore could become.

In just the past five years, the length of bikeways has increased to 135 kilometres. Unlike Londonโ€™s lycra-covered, middle-aged men racing each other to the office, bicycle infrastructure means that riding a bike is safe for everyone โ€“ of all ages. Segregated bike paths have made Vitoria more inclusive for everyone.

The changes however, have not just been about updating the cityโ€™s infrastructure. Creative ways of communicating and educating have been crucial to Vitoriaโ€™s success.

Heiko Balsmeyer from VCD told me how the city worked to get local politicians on board so that consensus on important decisions could be reached. It was a process of open communication about the widespread benefits of new ideas. With this knowledge instilled, it would have been simply ignorant for councillors to object to projects that would have obvious, citywide benefits.

Inspired by the UKโ€™s Bikeability Programme, programmes are now being implemented into school curriculums where children are taught to ride safely to school. The hope is that kids will no longer need their parentโ€™s assistance to get about the city.

The range of progressive measures in place to support positive change goes on: the city has overhauled parking policies, updated its branding strategy, and helps support progressive local community groups. Many of these measures have been taken from overseas and adapted into the local context.

Vitoriaโ€™s clear success has been in clever imitation. As we embark on a new urban era, itโ€™s about time that cities transfer knowledge, communicate, and work with one-another to overcome what are both local, and global, challenges.

Bicycle revolution or urban fad? by Tom Oliver Payne

Cities across the world are seeing a dramatic increase in cycling. Is this a short lived fad, or are we witnessing the start of a revolution in urban transport?

The rise of the car in the 50s and 60s completely transformed cities โ€“ first across the USA, and then the world. Once centred around walkable shopping districts and train lines, cities began to spread into vast suburbs and homogenous landscapes.

Cars didnโ€™t only change our cities, but they also changed our way of thinking. The car became a symbol of freedom, a symbol of maturity and a form of identity in the western world.

Today, we are seeing cities across the globe turn to alternative forms of mobility, and trains, trams and buses are back on the planning agenda in a big way. 60 years ago, one of the worldโ€™s most extensive tram networks (180 miles) was destroyed in Sydney, Australia, to make way for the private car. Today, the city is once again investing billions into a new light rail system that it hopes will relieve some of the cityโ€™s severe congestion.

Weโ€™re also seeing (re) investment into bicycle infrastructure in downtown districts across the globe. Over the last few years, cities like New York have constructed hundreds of miles of bike paths and bike share schemes are popping up in every corner of the globe โ€“ from Hangzhouโ€™s โ€˜Public Bicycleโ€™, to Parisโ€™ Vรฉlibโ€™, to Montrealโ€™s โ€˜Bixiโ€™.

stklm-bike.jpg

Pedalling home from work in Stockholm.

Bikes are also having a renewed surge of popularity. Portland hipsters are taking to the streets on fixies, east Londoners are dusting off vintage Raleighs and Sydney corporates are swapping golf clubs for lycraโ€ฆ As a result, the growth in cycling numbers has been immense in many cities worldwide. Italy has recently recorded that bike sales have outstripped car sales for the first time since World War II; the number of commuter cyclists in new York has doubled over the last five years; and for the first time in decades, a London borough (Hackney) has recorded that more people cycle to work (15%) than drive (12%).

Is all of this a revolution, or is it simply an urban fad?

The โ€˜bike boomโ€™ of the United States saw similar trends in the late 60s and early 70s. Between โ€˜63 and โ€˜73 bike sales increased from 2.5 to 15 million, companies such as Union Carbide installed bike racks for employees and more than 50 cities across the country began planning bike paths with funding from the federal government. While there are many assumptions about why the American โ€˜bike boomโ€™ ended, itโ€™s likely that it had something to do with the end of the fuel crisis and recession.

Sunday morning shopping in the London borough of Hackney. 

Sunday morning shopping in the London borough of Hackney. 

Unlike America in the 70s, today we really are beginning to realise that our growth is unsustainable. Weโ€™re aware that we can no longer keep producing without recycling, we can no longer all own large homes, and we can no longer all drive to work โ€“ not only do our cars not all fit in our cities, but we are also running out of the very resource that drives them. There are simply too many of us. And yes, some argue that in our highly urbanised world, we could spread our wings by repopulating and revitalising rural areas. But not only do we rely on the economies of scale of cities to compete in the globalised world, but the โ€˜greenโ€™ countryside is also very โ€˜brownโ€™. Those living in spacious rural areas generally have far greater environmental impacts than those in cities. As a result, weโ€™re seeing transit-oriented housing developments, a move towards cleaner energy sources, urban congestion taxes and rising fuel prices. These are all putting pressure on  drivers and making the move to two wheels seem slightly more practical.

Is the movement global? Not every city is adopting bike use in the same way, and some cities arenโ€™t moving towards bikes at all. An array of factors will determine how, exactly, these changes are occurring. Some cities already have a deeply embedded bike culture (Copenhagen), some cities have stubborn politicians (Sydney), some cities are simply too hot (Phoenix), too cold (Ulan Bator) or too vast (Los Angeles). But across the globe we are beginning to witness a shift in the way we think about urban mobility.

The car will not simply disappear and bicycles will not suddenly take over our streets. But as we look for alternative solutions to our current transport woes, cycling is suddenly looking like a pretty smart option.

Rather than just a fad, Iโ€™d argue that todayโ€™s boom will be sticking about for a while. Just like the revolution of a wheel, we are perhaps, returning to where it all began.

INSTAGRAM

 

The world is going two-wheeled: what's stopping Sydney? by Tom Oliver Payne

6682735743_8aa77d5d80_o1.jpg

Sydneyโ€™s transportation network is in crisis. Decades of dependence on the car have left the roads congested, the air polluted and residents - well โ€“ fat. Furthermore, with the cityโ€™s cheaper housing stretching out into its vast western suburbs, expensive and lengthy commutes have perpetuated the growing divide between the rich and poor. But we all know that cars in cities really are a thing of the past. Over the past couple of decades there has been mounting evidence that building more roads does not alleviate congestion and traffic within urban areas.

On top of research, dependence on the personal automobile is something that millenials no longer value or desire. Unlike American films of the 1970s, young people donโ€™t want a car for their 18th birthday. In fact, an American study has found that driving by young people decreased by 23 per cent between 2001 and 2009. Today, people want to live in walkable neighbourhoods, close to places of work, education and friends. And surely, no one wants to be the designated driver.

Driving a car simply doesnโ€™t offer a person in the city the freedom that your own two feet or a bicycle does.

For a long time, I dreamed that Sydney would embrace a cycling culture modelled on the success of Copenhagen. Copenhagenโ€™s street design allows children to bike around cruise safely and freely, and encourages spontaneous social interaction during the daily commute.

Unfortunately, I began to give up on that dream sometime in my early 20s. Iโ€™m not sure if it was the time I was doored by a taxi on Oxford Street, the time I was thrown to the ground by a cop for riding on the pavement, or the time a guy in an SUV tried to โ€˜intimidateโ€™ me by actually drive right into me. Or perhaps, it was one of the many other times that I feared for my life because a car driver didnโ€™t see me.

After years of abuse on the roads, itโ€™s become hard to imagine that things will ever change.

While the problems faced by bike riders may seem commonplace in many cities across the world, other cities are changing very quickly. And Sydney is not keeping up.

In many cities, we are seeing an urban transition. New York, LA, London, Paris and Mexico City, to name just a few, are all investing heavily into bicycle infrastructure, lowering speed limits and planning new transit networks. Even China is realising the transformational effects biking and cycling infrastructure can play. Hangzhou recently opened the worldโ€™s largest bike share network with over 60,000 bikes and almost 2,500 docking stations.

This is more than just a trend. By incorporating best practices in cycling infrastructure, cities across the world are seeing improved public health, a decrease in congestion and improvement to retail in high streets. Forward-thinking local governments realise this and start building segregated bike lanes and other cycling infrastructure โ€“ not more roads.

So, what's stopping Sydney?

In most conversation about bikes in Australian cities, you hear all sorts of strange arguments. โ€˜Itโ€™s too hotโ€™, โ€˜too hillyโ€™, โ€˜we arenโ€™t dense like European citiesโ€™. In his book, Cycling Space, Tasmanian-based architect and academic Steven Fleming has shown us how ridiculous these arguments really are. Cities with some of the most extreme temperatures or have built environments characterised by massive amounts of sprawl have far higher levels of cycling than Australian cities.

The major problem in Sydney is poor communication. More specifically, the problem with Sydney is the Daily Telegraph.

New York has recently invested in miles of bikes paths and a hugely successful bike share system. Yes, there has been a lot of debate about these changes in the media. But the debate has been relatively balanced and healthy in the media.

Unlike New York, Sydney doesnโ€™t seem to enjoy a very healthy dialogue in mainstream media. Particularly when it comes to a conversation about bikes. Itโ€™s not a debate when the media is dominated by Rupert Murdoch.

For months on end, weโ€™ve seen article after article in what is a blatant attack on pro-bike politicians, policies and journalists from the Daily Telegraph. And the problem with any democratic planning system is that poor communication easily leads to poor decision-making.

But it gets much more personal that that. The way in which cycling โ€˜accidentsโ€™ are portrayed in the paper is downright disgusting. Roads were built for bikes and people, not cars. Yet cars take the lives of dozens of riders every year. How dare the telegraph misrepresent cycling deaths by blaming improper safety equipment. Cyclists are vulnerable road users and cars are to blame.

Sydneysiders know whatโ€™s good for our city. We know that more roads are a not the solution. So why do we put up with it? The generation before us didnโ€™t.

Sydneyโ€™s Green Bans of the 1960s and 70s were a struggle that helped to give people in Sydney the freedoms they have today. Glebe, Redfern, The Rocks and Centennial Park, would not be the beautiful places they are today if it werenโ€™t for Jack Mundey and the BLF.

Throughout the 1970s thousands of people joined a movement to ensure that the physical nature of our city was protected, preserved and enhanced, not destroyed by oversized development and inner city motorways.

If we want to see a better Sydney, itโ€™s time we collectively stood up to bad press and poor planning decision. Write news articles, share experiences, tell planners that you wish to ride your bike safely and freely. Itโ€™s time to take the development of our city out of the hands of Murdoch and into our own.

No, Sydney is not a European city. But now is the time to make it just that little bit more like one.

Feature image courtesy Amsterdamized.

I wandered around Singapore. Here are my thoughts on the city. by Tom Oliver Payne

2014-06-15_1402825736.jpg

At my past job at a sustainability charity in London some of my friends who had lived in Singapore explained that it was highly ambitious environmentally, giving numerous examples of green business parks and ambitious building standards. But chatting to a cab driver over the weekend in the city, he had a slightly different perspective.

Explaining the ongoing peripheral urban development and housing crisis, it seemed that the island/nation/city continues to grow rapidly to its own detriment. "What's that word?" he said, "Urban jungle! This nation is turning into one big urban jungle!".

While land intensification has been an ongoing policy for development in the city for many decades, it does continue to slowly sprawl into the periphery to accommodate the rapidly growing population. Comprising only 270 sq km in total, land development issues in Singapore can be seen to epitomise land use issues across the globe (just on the small scale). We want urban 'growth' but how do we stop expanding?

I'd definitely need to spend some more time in the city to have a better perspective on sustainable development in Singapore. It's such an incredibly interesting city that seems to be developing very sensibly, but could it be doing even better? And what lessons can other cities learn from Singapore as an example?

Apart from all of the big picture strategy stuff, I made the following brief observations from my quick day of walking about the city: high density, manicured gardens, not pedestrian friendly, ambitious, colourful, beautiful, amazing food and smells and of course, hot and humid! If the city had a little less cars, a few more bikes and made a bit more effort in place making and public space creation, it'd make all the difference.

I'd love to know other people's thoughts!

All photos Tom Oliver Payne.

How we can design for human desire by Tom Oliver Payne

img_2950.jpg

Have you ever noticed a dirt track through a public park or a group of people who meander across a street in seeming defiance of authority?

Well, that's because we, as humans, utilise something called 'desire lines'. Coined by French philosopher Gaston Bachelard, desire lines describe the human tendency of carving a path between two points (usually because the constructed path takes a circuitous route).

Across the globe urban authorities tend to try to control people's walking desires by erecting fences and walls. This illustrates nothing but a disrespect for human desire.

Instead, planners and designers should be acting to adjust urban infrastructure to appreciate the way in which humans utilise urban space.

The image above shows a terrific example from Gladesville in Sydney. Travelling from the city's north into the Inner West, one must traverse a number of waterways. For private cars, this journey is relatively direct and well-signed. For pedestrians and cyclists on the other hand, the journey is indirect and rather complex, leaving people to navigate multiple underpasses and complicated road-crossings. Not what you want on a hot Sydney summer day. As a result, pedestrians and cyclists have forged their own path which allows them to avoid a good 300m underpass walk. Instead of observing and redesigning the space to accommodate for the desires of people, the roads authority has continually tried to stop the movement of people by erecting fences at multiple sections along the path.

Alongside Gladesville Bridge, Sydney

Alongside Gladesville Bridge, Sydney

Is Sydney a city for people or a city for vehicles? It seems that the Roads and Maritime Services would prefer it to a place for cars (I guess it's all in the name, right?).

As cities move from being overly engineered and private vehicle-dominated, observing desire lines will act as an incredible tool in urban design, place making and urban management.

In the words of Mikael Colville-Andersen, "Instead of erecting fences to restrict them in the behaviour, they [Copenhagen Council] actually make it accessible for them and make it easy for them. Because people - at the end of the day - decide on where they want to go... This is the way forward in designing our cities for people". Check out his great little film below:

Policy mobilities, planning cultures and Cycle Superhighways by Tom Oliver Payne

dsc_0238.jpg

I recently had the opportunity to complete a dissertation on a topic of my choice. As expected, I decided to research bikes in the city...

Beginning the dissertation I envisioned undertaking a fairly straightforward analysis of how London has attempted to copy Copenhagenโ€™s Cycle Superhighways (CSH). As with most research, it wasnโ€™t long before I realised that the delivery of each of these policies wasnโ€™t as straightforward as it first seemed.

While London and Copenhagenโ€™s motivations for implementing CSH remained generally the same, their designs could hardly be more distinct. Londonโ€™s blue splats of paint are hardly the safe and coherent, segregated cycle paths that stretch into and out of Copenhagenโ€™s centre.

In reality, London has made no effort to actually โ€˜copyโ€™ Copenhagenโ€™s CSH network: it has merely copied the name.

While cycling around Copenhagen in the glorious summer months conducting an urban design analysis and interviews with planning professionals, I was faced with the complex question: how can London improve its cycling culture to become more like that of Copenhagen?

Copenhagen.

Copenhagen.

London. 

London. 

The answer is essentially quite simple: build it and they will come. But why has this been so difficult in London? Why does every cycle scheme ignore the need to build infrastructure that separates bikes and cars?

It wasnโ€™t long before I was exploring the histories of both cities, making links between past events and contemporary transport planning culture.

On the one hand, Copenhagen has decades of experience in implementing segregated bike lanes (although it wasnโ€™t always this way). On the other hand, London has a long history of implementing lousy, ad-hoc cycling schemes, which in a sense, continually try to please everybody, without actually pleasing anybody. This continues because of the status-quo mentality that runs deep within bodies like Transport for London.

How can London get out of this rut? With such a democratic approach to planning, how can it begin to finally close the โ€˜cycling credibility gapโ€™ (relationship between acceptance of cycling culture and the level of infrastructure) - as I've termed it โ€“ without already having critical mass?

As a final recommendation, Iโ€™ve argued that London (ie. Boris) must finally begin to deliver sections of high quality cycling infrastructure. By communicating the benefits of fully segregated cycle paths, he can finally gain the momentum to persuade the lobby groups, institutions and various road users that this is exactly the long-term infrastructure London needs to become the cycling city it envisions itself to become.

Check out the full dissertation here: Policy mobilities, planning cultures and Cycle Superhighways (note: names of interviewees have been removed for privacy).

Sydneyโ€™s Barangaroo: Repeating Mistakes of the Past? by Tom Oliver Payne

sydney-skyline.jpg

Casino tycoon James Packer, is bidding to build a resort-style casino on the Sydney's most central and beautiful foreshores - Barangaroo.

Every city has had its planning blunders. In fact, a number of monstrosities are probably being constructed near you right now. Iโ€™m sure you can name a few. Too often mistakes are made today because past errors have been too easily forgotten.

Throughout the 60โ€ฒs, the Sydney construction industry was booming; skyscrapers were being erected across the central district, new motorways were extending into the vast suburbs and ex-industrial foreshore sites were quickly being developed into large housing estates as industry moved further inland. โ€œBrave new worldโ€ masterplanning techniques embedded the development industry and the city saw the loss of some of its oldest buildings and most vital green spaces.

The Green Ban movement of the 70โ€ฒs changed all of this. Between 1971 and 1974 around 40 construction bans were imposed by the Builders Labourers Federation to prevent the destruction of buildings or green areas. The most controversial was the ban to halt the redevelopment of The Rocks. After years of strikes and bloody confrontations, the plan to redevelop Sydneyโ€™s oldest suburb was altered to ensure strict preservation of historic buildings. Today,The Rocks is one of the cityโ€™s largest tourist destinations.

So, what did Sydney learn from the Green Ban movement? According to the new plans to redevelop Barangaroo, not a lot. While the bans did reform planning policy and change the development culture of the entire nation, it seems that in 2013, all has been forgotten.

Casino tycoon James Packer, son of the famous Kerry Packer, is bidding to build a resort-style casino (alongside multiple office buildings) on the cityโ€™s most central and beautiful foreshores โ€“ Barangaroo.

Interestingly, Barangaroo sits just down the street from The Rocks. So, with this in mind one would hope Packer has carefully considered the areaโ€™s history but it doesnโ€™t look like it. All Packer seems to care about his how his โ€œiconic projectโ€ can compete with Melbourne and China. With so much support for his development, it seems that the rest of the city has forgotten as well. If weโ€™ve learned anything from Sydneyโ€™s past, itโ€™s that the preservation of itsnatural features, particularly the harbour and foreshores, are what has made it such a globally attractive city.

Cities donโ€™t succeed by copying others. Rather, they become far more unique and exciting by learning from their mistakes and enhancing their best features. I donโ€™t know about you, but Iโ€™d say another tacky casino doesnโ€™t seem to fit that mould.

Click here to check out this article on the Urban Times.

Feature image courtesy aussiegall/Flickr.