Why I like Brutalist architecture

Brutalism seems to divide opinion like no other type of architecture. Between the 50s and 70s huge, grey, concrete buildings were built across cities around the world. While a lot of people hated their ‘inhuman’ and overbearing aesthetic, the architects designing them thought they were creating a new kind of utopia.

Until a few years ago, I knew nothing about this type of architecture. But it wasn’t long before I fell in love with taking photos at The Barbican Estate, and soon learned a bit about the movement.

Whether I love or hate the look of a particular brutalist building, I now really appreciate what it was trying to achieve. Now, every time I head off to a new city, I seek out these buildings and try to learn a bit about what they were trying to achieve in each place. From scanning the internet, it looks like other people love it too.

The term ‘brutalism’ comes from the French word ‘brut’, meaning ‘raw’. That’s exactly what these buildings are. So different from elegant design and detailing in the past, their designers used rough concrete with hard textures, and showed-off elements of the building that used to be hidden, like lift shafts.

The thing that I think is cool about brutalism is not the way it looks, but that it was designed with the best, optimistic intentions.

After the World War II, Europe was trying to rebuild its cities in a way that fixed a lot of its problems from the past, and Brutalism was all about trying to make buildings as cheap, functional and equal as possible. By making sure the building’s foundations were exposed, architects hoped that the ordinary could be seen as an art form, and in doing so - make them attractive to every person in society - whether rich or poor.

A key element of brutalism in London was the idea of creating ‘streets in the sky’, which would connect apartments blocks or offices. The idea was that neighbours could talk, kids could play and people could walk to work way above the fast-moving traffic below.

In the period of two decades, once low-lying urban areas were quickly transformed by towering concrete structures by architects and planners who envisioned a utopian city, where residents lived equally.

The ideas were cool, but in practice, it didn’t take long before the brutalism movement came to an end. It’s considered a social experiment, which didn’t really work. People soon realised that these buildings created strange ‘placeless’ spaces and restricted pedestrian movement through urban areas, which encouraged isolation and crime.

After harsh criticism for years, many of these buildings were demolished and some have been preserved. In London, my favourite surviving examples are Robin Hood Gardens, Balfron, Trellick Tower, and The Barbican.

The thing that I find super interesting about the Brutalist Movement, is how bold these planners and architects were: they saw a problem in society and they set out to find a solution for it through design. Sometimes I feel like society lacks some of that audacity these days. We have as serious housing shortage in London right now, and no one seems to be doing anything to fix it.

To me, this style of architecture represents a group of optimistic designers who were experimenting with a courageous idea - and that’s pretty cool.

Photos and film copyright Tom Oliver Payne.

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Exploring London's 3 best graffiti neighbourhoods

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been exploring. And not much has changed now that I’m in my 20s. But when I go somewhere new, I don’t just sit in a café, or see a boring landmark. Instead, I discover random parts of a city, hang with other creatives and check out exciting new ideas.

This week I teamed up with Converse to explore my own city like I haven’t before. I decided to seek out the neighbourhoods which not only attract street artists from across the world, but are at the forefront for young artists who are forging new paths.

Converse (Chuck Taylor II Neon) was the perfect partner to explore the adventure this incredible city has to offer. Chuck II is a product synonymous with pushing creative boundaries – something which is fundamental to who I am. That, together with a commitment to enabling young people to think bigger, they were a refreshing wingman on my exploration of London’s urban art.

1. Shoreditch

Shoreditch is the centre of London’s street art scene. Streets like Brick Lane may be popular with tourists, but it’s also where artists have their work recognised right across the world.

I took off up Hanbury Street, which is coated with some of the best murals I’ve ever seen. Then, heading to the Nomadic Gardens, I met some barefoot hippies and chilled in one of the most colourful public spaces in London. Huge art works spread across the railway tracks and small little throw-ups surrounded the community campfire. Awesome.

Shoreditch may be the centre of London’s street art scene, but that’s not to say leave it off your bucket list – just make sure you explore the backstreets.

2. Camden Town

Camden Town has been synonymous with music and creativity since the 60s. And today, it continues to be more inspirational than ever.

Heading past the world-renowned Camden Lock Markets, it was just a matter of seconds before I was down some laneways and surrounded by some seriously amazing shit. A super detailed artwork by Otto Schade acts as a memorial to Amy Winehouse, and a huge piece by Dan Kitchener is – in my opinion – his best addition to his ‘Liquid Lights’ series.

But there was one bit of paint that caught my attention in particular. Created by Pang, this was beautiful portrait of a recent Syrian refugee in London. Apparently the man came to the alleyway himself to help complete the piece - a cool reminder how art can influence the political world.

Camden’s creative scene has continually broken barriers, and just like the music, its street art scene seems to only get better with age.

3. Hackney Wick

Hackney Wick is a neighbourhood where young people are generally free to make noise, party, and paint walls. Not only does the cheap rent offer the perfect place for creatives to live, but its huge old warehouse spaces give plenty of room for imaginative musicians and artists to experiment with fresh ideas. Just about every wall in Hackney Wick is covered with vivid colours from an emerging new artist.

By the time I was done checking out the The Wick’s graffiti scene, it was time to indulge in some music. It’s a good thing my Chuck II’s were super comfortable for the full day out… and of course a night on the dance floor.

As a young creative in London, it’s important I’m always seeking out the next opportunity. It doesn’t matter where I am, or what time of day it is, I’ve got to be ready for whatever comes my way. Psyched to team up with Converse on this adventure, I couldn't imagine a better collaboration to explore the neighbourhoods at the forefront of the city’s street art culture.

Chuck II's are available from Converse.com.

Photos by Sam Jackson and Mali-Koa.

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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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Last week I realised what I love about Paris

It’s no wonder Paris intrigues people: through films, the city is portrayed as place of love, romance and elegance; through history books, we are told of its role in the French revolution and the downfall of the Nazis; and through news, we are reminded of the social tensions faced by the city’s role as a cultural melting pot.

However, every time I step back into the Paris, I realise there’s something else distinct about the city. It seems to be a place where people actually sit talk, interact and socialise on the streets. At a time when cars and technology run our lives, this is a strange but incredible trait for the centre of a major city.

After a quick trip around Europe last week for a media project (...more on that later), I touched down at Paris’ Orly airport. Just two weeks after the terrorist attacks, and two days before COP21, I was pretty interested to understand what the vibe was going to be like. I imagined a city in lock-down: empty streets and eerie vibes.

As I stepped out into Saint-Lazare, there were tonnes of people talking, walking and generally hanging out. The streets were full of life and the wine was flowing.

I’ve decided to lay down a few guesses why Paris might be such a social city...

A social culture

Parisians, and the French more generally, seem to have a respect for ideas, curiosity and intelligence. So, sitting about and conversing on all these things should only be natural, right?

Urban design

Paris is a walking and cycling city, and its streets are filled with shops, cafes and restaurants (or as architects would call it – ‘active frontages’). This along with awesome public spaces, wide footpaths and places to sit, of course it's a place where people are going to hang out?

Al fresco

Believe it or not, loads of cities across the globe restrict the things that make humans healthy and cities successful. In Australia and the USA, drinking alcohol is super-restricted, but this only seems to perpetuate problems with violence. I guess in Paris, where drinking in all sorts of places is accepted and respected, this helps the streets to feel safe and naturally lively?

Of course there are loads of things that make Paris special, but in an era of increasing social isolation, it’s awesome to spend time in a big city where people of all ages seem to appreciate being able to just hang out with each other in public spaces.

It would be awesome to hear other people's thoughts. What do other people love about Paris?

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

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 – it’s the sincerest form of learning."

– 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 didn’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 it’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 can’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, it’s not only the environment that pays the price. Each year thousands of innocent people are killed because urban authorities can’t seem to re-adapt cities for people, rather than for cars.

Over the past few weeks in London we’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 city’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.

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 ‘Cycle Superhighways’, London doesn’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 don’t please anybody. What we’re left with is a surface-transport mess. It simply doesn’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 – 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. “Just ten years ago, this city had a lot of problems with the car,” Juan told me, “but people knew it shouldn’t be like that, so we begun to think about how we could change it”.

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 didn’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 city’s own context and adjusted where necessary.

Vitoria implemented Copenhagen-style bike paths on wide thoroughfares (when it could afford to); it used the ‘superblock’ 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 Copenhagen’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

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 – 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 doesn’t exist where the urban grain has been dissected by busy car thoroughfares. I couldn’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 London’s lycra-covered, middle-aged men racing each other to the office, bicycle infrastructure means that riding a bike is safe for everyone – of all ages. Segregated bike paths have made Vitoria more inclusive for everyone.

The changes however, have not just been about updating the city’s infrastructure. Creative ways of communicating and educating have been crucial to Vitoria’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 UK’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 parent’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.

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

Malaga: why cities should invest in culture

A couple of weeks ago, a bunch of my friends and I decided we would explore Malaga in Spain. Not only is there is some cool stuff within and around the city that is great to ride on bikes, but the city is now home to one of the world's greatest skateparks designed by the legendary Rueben Alcantara.

Back in the 90s and 2000s, Ruebenwas one of the world's most well-known bmx riders -  known for his unique style and ability to create interesting new tricks. Although he exploded in popularity in the United States, his home was always Malaga. Today Rueben has moved back to this city and although he still shows up most professional bmx riders today, he isn't quite the bmx-celebrity he once was.

Upon his return however, the city of Malaga has benefited from investing in Rueben's talent, knowledge and global popularity.

In the 18th century, Malaga was the second most important industrial centre in Spain. Today, converted into a world capital of tourism, thanks to the development of the Costa del Sol and its privileged climate and strategic location, Málaga continues to grow. However, with the recent recession having taken its toll on tourism, the city is also redefining itself in knowledge-based sectors and the arts.

Initially just allowing Rueben to design the bowl, the local authority/investor allowed Rueben to slowly take much of the control of the creation and management of the entire park.

Today, it is a fully flung skate and bmx centre named quite appropriately Malaga Skatepark Rueben Alcantara and it now attracts some of the most well-respected bmx riders and skateboarders from around the world... Just on our trip we met bus loads of riders from across Europe, the States and Australia.

Who knows what energy this will spark in the local neighbourhood? Who knows what attention in will bring from across the global community? How many more Rueben's will this park help to create?

Creative ideas, people and trends can completely transform local economies and even improve social cohesion within a community. Helping the arts and new ideas to prosper can - arguably, of course - have an even greater impact on government policies and other top-down community-building programmes.

Local governments often seek out consultants to guide them on what's best for local economies or place making. Here's another idea: see what already exists and help it to thrive.Perhaps the best way for local governments to stimulate neighbourhoods is by seeking out local talent and helping it to grow - much the same as a good business does with its employees.

Each neighbourhood comprises a unique history and has a diverse range of local residents. These people have talents, skills, ideas and perspectives. By allowing them to thrive in their community, the community will also thrive as a result.

I'm strong believer in individual creativity and ambition. When this is met with support and funding with the institutions and organisation who have it, great things can happen. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of risk-taking.

Bicycle revolution or urban fad?

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 – 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 didn’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 world’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 city’s severe congestion.

We’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 – from Hangzhou’s ‘Public Bicycle’, to Paris’ Vélib’, to Montreal’s ‘Bixi’.

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 lycra… 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 ‘bike boom’ of the United States saw similar trends in the late 60s and early 70s. Between ‘63 and ‘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 ‘bike boom’ ended, it’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. 

Unlike America in the 70s, today we really are beginning to realise that our growth is unsustainable. We’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 – 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 ‘green’ countryside is also very ‘brown’. Those living in spacious rural areas generally have far greater environmental impacts than those in cities. As a result, we’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 aren’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, I’d argue that today’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.

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Meet Mikey from Shoreditch

Sometimes when I'm walking home from work I decide to take the long route so that I can walk through a rad little tunnel in Shoreditch. There are usually interesting people cruising around and some good graffiti to look at. One night last week, the light was looking particularly good so I decided to grab a few photographs.

As I lay splayed out on the ground I noticed a busker at the other end of the tunnel absolutely smashing it on his acoustic. He may not have had all the technical ability, but he had some serious passion. As I looked through the viewfinder I noticed the dude get up out of his spot and begin walking towards me. As he got closer, I popped my head up over the camera and said hello. I was greeted with a massive smile and "Hey, I'm Mikey! Can I see your shots?"

Over the next hour or two Mikey and I sat playing guitar and watching the people power-walking home from work - much the way I would've looked just a couple of hours before. An interesting little demographic contrast... there sat Mikey: high vis jacket, a can of beer, the world's loudest laugh and a song. In front of us were clean suits, Iphones, tight faces, and busy agendas. This was a good reminder to take a step back every so often to get some perspective. When you realise the simplicity of life, you suddenly realise that the stupid worries are all just... well, worries.

Sometimes what seems to be a fulfilling life, is not that that fulfilling at all. On the other hand, someone who seemingly has nothing, couldn't ask for anything more. It's important to know what makes you happy, and focus your attention on that. Anything else will just disappoint.

Sitting just around the corner from Gary and Prince, Mikey plays under Shoreditch Overground most week nights. Listen to his music, drop him a coin and say hello.

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. 

The world is going two-wheeled: what's stopping Sydney?

Sydney’s transportation network is in crisis. Decades of dependence on the car have left the roads congested, the air polluted and residents - well – fat. Furthermore, with the city’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 don’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 doesn’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. Copenhagen’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. I’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 ‘intimidate’ 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 didn’t see me.

After years of abuse on the roads, it’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 world’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 – not more roads.

So, what's stopping Sydney?

In most conversation about bikes in Australian cities, you hear all sorts of strange arguments. ‘It’s too hot’, ‘too hilly’, ‘we aren’t dense like European cities’. 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 doesn’t seem to enjoy a very healthy dialogue in mainstream media. Particularly when it comes to a conversation about bikes. It’s not a debate when the media is dominated by Rupert Murdoch.

For months on end, we’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 ‘accidents’ 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 what’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 didn’t.

Sydney’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 weren’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, it’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. It’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.