Lifestyle Centers & European Roots

Exerpt from Good Malls and Bad Cities by Philip Nobel

There’s really nothing wrong with Santana Row. There should be, of course; we’ve all been bred to hate malls, and what could be more hateful than a mall masquerading as a chic, vaguely European town? Taking advantage of the sun in San Jose (the more or less real place it is situated in), the mall does away with interiority, offering shoppers an artfully paved and fountained plaza, arcaded sidewalks, live music, “street food,” and oversize chess in a shaded square—all to differentiate yet another collection of shops from the market. Crate and Bar­rel, Design Within Reach, and the Container Store anchor one end of the neighborhood, luring you with the promise of a design-rich life.

Santana Row has a hotel too—a very good one—right on the main drag, and walking out the huge stone portal of the front door at night, seeing the sidewalk cafés packed under the brick arches and the lovers all atangle at the glass-and-steel tables, shopping bags at their feet, you might be drawn in for a second, overlooking the uniform signage, the uniformed guards, the too feeble stream of traffic in the well-controlled quasi-public street, and the way everything conspires to keep the experience free of distracting surprise. You can even live there. Above the main street and ringing the plaza are flats and town houses, accessible through their own garages and concealing their own swimming pools but opening out to the little shopping city with cute Juliet balconies. “Call it energy, call it charisma, call it style & substance,” the marketing copy reads. “Santana Row has a certain something that is impervious to time.”

There’s really nothing wrong with Easton Town Center either. It’s actually sort of charming the way the planners of this mega-mall in Columbus, Ohio—again seeking that elusive saturated-market edge—have modeled the thing after an ideal American courthouse square. It’s a true Midwestern civic typology, missing only the civic, but there’s an Apple Store and a place for the kids to play outside; it’s not at all a bad place to kill a few hours between the airport and your next pilgrimage to the Wexner Center.

At Easton Town Center the mall-planning protocols are retained to a much greater degree than at Santana Row (there’s a proper interior, modeled incongruously after a Milanese arcade, and you’re glad for it when it sleets). But there is still that salutory urge to make a center, even to flatter the “consumer” by advertising it as such; and judging by the foot traffic around its signature square one winter weekday last year, it works. As at the more upscale Santana Row, the mall is surrounded by housing, though not in the complex. On the access roads all around, there are acres of low town-house blocks that reminded me of similar swaths near Harvard Square. You can live close to other people, and if you can’t quite abandon your car, it would be possible at least to leave your SUV in one of the shared garages when you scamper across the street to go to Johnny Rockets. You could even walk to a movie theater.

It was visiting those two sprawl-patching hot spots within a few months last year that began to erode my knee-jerk aversion to malls: fake places, captive minds, etc., etc., blah, blah, blah. I still feel like it’s the end of the world when I see a shopping center replace the exterior life of a city—the beautiful, well-scaled, well-heeled streets of Providence, Rhode Island, may never recover from the vampire of Providence Place—but in San Jose and exurban Ohio, there is scarcely a center to mourn, and the malliers should be credited for responding to a human urge that looks like it will easily survive the decentralizing effects of multiuser gaming and Netflix.

People like to gather, and not just to shop. For many years I liked to think that it was in search of those extracommercial urban moments that Americans went to Europe in such numbers: a stroll on cobbles, a chance crepe stand or busker, the feel of being in a mass. But there’s a predictable feel to those places these days that rivals the formula of the American mall. Think of the center of any European city: the train station lets out at one end of the pedestrian-only zone, chain stores are everywhere, the unified street furniture and signage announce an advanced state of central control. Parking is underground, out of sight. Events are known, programmed, and disturbances of the peace are few. Though you’re still free to riot after a soccer match.

In terms of land use, it’s preferable to paving the orchards or cornfields to make more sprawl (even in the form of little downtowns), but experientially the zentrum and the shopping center are fast converging. You scan the shop windows as you wander toward the city’s central point—a clock, a fountain, a bridge—just as you would gravitate toward the food court or art object at the center of some old-school mall. Walking around the center of Munich for several days last winter, I found it increasingly untenable to prefer one form of regulated commercial experience to another, to damn the American solution and reflexively embrace the European. The city fathers had even installed an ice rink at the gate of the main walking street, just as shrewd mall-makers from Edmonton to Dallas have done since the 1980s.

With free speech (thriving elsewhere) taken out of the equation, with all arguments based on “authenticity” banished to the postmodern echo chamber, with the European models of urbanity themselves sinking into the for­mulaic banal, places like Santana Row and Easton Town Center look like unadulterated good news—little training grounds for the experience of being with lots of other people on a street at the same time. That alone can build civic health. And subversion is only a wireless connection away.

Crime Prevention Through Design

By Diane Zahm

Our urban neighborhoods are suffering from years of suburban development, which has destroyed their physical, economic and social fabric, and left it torn and frayed. In some neighborhoods this process has created an urban wasteland of vacant lots, buildings, streets and sidewalks that have become havens for crime. It is these vacancies—or voids—that are now the most problematic. Abandoned buildings serve as residences for drug users and prostitutes. Vacant lots full of trash and weeds attract homeless persons or become the local hangout for gang members. Vacated or unused alleys function as a street network for drug dealers.

In many ways, land-use policies exacerbate the problem. Long ago, in an effort to promote economic development, downtown neighborhoods were rezoned for commercial or industrial uses, eliminating any opportunity for ongoing investment in residential or mixed-use development. Instead, property ownership became highly speculative. Nonresident investors accumulated parcels for profit, all the while renting to tenants who themselves lacked any emotional investment in the neighborhood. Real property tax revenues dried up; so did neighborhood support services. Grocery stores, pharmacies, department stores, banks, doctors and dentists—all moved to the suburbs. But this was not just a loss of residents or taxes or services; the process destroyed the dynamic mix of uses and activities that made urban neighborhoods vibrant and contributed to community safety and security.

Studies show that crime occurs most frequently in those places without observers or guardians; in other words, in the voids. Many years ago Jane Jacobs, in her book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, offered observations regarding those elements that contribute to a safe and healthy urban neighborhood. Among them are a mix of uses, clearly defined public and private spaces, 24-hour activity, eyes on the street, adequate lighting, uniform setbacks, architectural variety and short blocks. Many planners and designers took Jacobs' insights as a wake-up call, but were undeterred by her disdain for the "doctrine of salvation by bricks." Their new plans called for mixed uses, uniform setbacks and other important physical elements without considering the extent to which residents, property owners, business managers, visitors and others must be engaged in order for a neighborhood to be truly safe. For what good is a mix of uses if the activity they generate never attracts people who care about the neighborhood around them, who pick up litter and scrub off graffiti and report drug dealing? Without them the neighborhood is also without the observers or guardians who are so critical to safety and security, a need that cannot be filled by police or private security.

Traditional neighborhood development represents an important step toward safer, more secure urban neighborhoods. It begins by mending the physical and economic fabric of the neighborhood, by filling the voids left by vacant lots, buildings and alleyways. Open spaces, then, are no longer merely voids, but carefully located and designed streets, walks, yards and parks that knit together the uses and activities that surround them. Traditional neighborhood development has the potential to re-establish the social network of the neighborhood as well. Of course, traditional neighborhood development cannot guarantee "community," but it can provide a dynamic and attractive mix of uses, with lot sizes, building scales and floor plans that reflect contemporary lifestyles. If traditional neighborhood development is successful, no space or place in the neighborhood will be without a guardian or owner, someone who participates in its management and upkeep—and who, therefore, helps to prevent crime.

Smart Codes For Smart Places

by Jason Miller

Mention zoning codes to the average person and the reaction is predictable: a stone-faced stare, glazed eyes, a yawn. But communities across the United States are discovering that the very fabric of their neighborhoods and towns is built on those codes—or, more accurately, because of them. And communities are doing something about these codes.

Conventional zoning codes are fundamentally flawed, says Geoffrey Ferrell, a principal with Geoffrey Ferrell Associates in Washington, D.C. “Ever since the industrial years, the conventional separation-of-uses approach has been the wrong approach to control”—to keeping unpleasant uses away from the residential areas. “It has devolved to micromanagement of use and density. The [built environment] that has resulted is very, very poor about 99 percent of the time. No one’s happy with what they’ve been given.”

Ferrell’s co-principal, Mary Madden, agrees. “That micromanagement of uses has resulted in a huge number of unintended consequences, namely, suburban sprawl. Everybody hates sprawl, but the builders aren’t violating rules; they’re building exactly what the codes call for. Those codes are a blueprint for sprawl. Under the existing conventional codes, you can’t help but build it.”

Community frustration with conventional codes and the type of development they spawn has driven new urbanist- and smart growth–minded planners to create new zoning codes. While these new codes go by many names— form-based codes, new urbanist codes, TND (traditional neighborhood development) ordinances, smart zoning, the SmartCode© from Miami-based town planners Duany Plater-Zyberk & Company—they are all designed to create places that emulate the urbanism of older, well-loved places, while preserving rural areas and historic sites threatened by conventional development.

Communities that have replaced their conventional codes with new ordinances have generally reported success in the process leading up to the new codes’ implementation, as well as favorable upturns in their real estate markets.

Municipalities Adopting TOD Policy

By Amy Gardner and Bill Turque
Washington Post,March 13, 2007

Fairfax County embraced a new policy yesterday encouraging dense, pedestrian-friendly development near current and future transit stations, continuing the transformation of car-friendly suburban neighborhoods.

The policy, approved unanimously by the county Board of Supervisors, will promote "compact" development with a mix of housing, office space and retail stores within a half-mile of rail stations. The most intensive development would lie within a quarter-mile of stations. Fairfax is home to 10 transit stations, five for Metro and five for Virginia Railway Express.

The point, supervisors and the new policy say, is to create communities that encourage walking, biking and transit use to reduce sprawl and automobile travel.

Another purpose is to create a clear definition of so-called transit-oriented development -- a term that means different things to different people.

Last June, for example, the county approved MetroWest, a development of 2,250 homes as well as office and retail space at the Vienna Metro station, over the objections of residents who said the proposal lacked the mix of uses and neighborhood input needed for successful transit-oriented development. Previously, the county blocked a nearby neighborhood from selling to a developer who planned to build a high-rise project, on the grounds that the community was too far from the Metro station to qualify for the label.

Form-Based Codes

by Planning & Design Institute

Regulations known as "form–based codes" offer an approach that favors walkable neighborhoods, a variety of housing choices, and mixed use developments. Unlike conventional zoning, form–based codes make it easier to find a balance between maintaining a community's local character and, at the same time facilitating high–quality development projects.

The codes can be applied to new growth ares, existing neighborhoods, special districts, as well as entire communities.

The regulations focus on the size, form, and placement of buildings and parking locations. With form–based codes, there is flexibility in combining residential commercial uses on property, and less emphasis on specific densities. A land owner or developer will have more options in offering single–family homes, apartments, offices, or retail as long as the building form conforms to the community's vision reflected in the form–based codes. Overall, form–based codes give a community the opportunity to respond to market demands in a manner that follows the principles of smart growth planning.

Key elements in form–based code may include:

• A Regulating Plan which may include a map of the study area that specify where specific building forms apply
• Standards for building forms
• Standards for street and sidewalks
• Design Guidelines which address architecture and landscaping
• Clearly defined processes for application and review
• Definitions of technical terms

In addition, form–based codes are typically written to be user–friendly, and often supplement regulatory text with graphics to help illustrate specific regulations, such as minimum and maximum heights of buildings.

Creating Walkable Neighborhoods

by smartgrowth.org

Walkable communities are desirable places to live, work, learn, worship and play, and therefore a key component of smart growth. Their desirability comes from two factors. First, walkable communities locate within an easy and safe walk goods (such as housing, offices, and retail) and services (such as transportation, schools, libraries) that a community resident or employee needs on a regular basis. Second, by definition, walkable communities make pedestrian activity possible, thus expanding transportation options, and creating a streetscape that better serves a range of users -- pedestrians, bicyclists, transit riders, and automobiles. To foster walkability, communities must mix land uses and build compactly, and ensure safe and inviting pedestrian corridors.



Walkable communities are nothing new. Outside of the last half-century communities worldwide have created neighborhoods, communities, towns and cities premised on pedestrian access. Within the last fifty years public and private actions often present created obstacles to walkable communities. Conventional land use regulation often prohibits the mixing of land uses, thus lengthening trips and making walking a less viable alternative to other forms of travel. This regulatory bias against mixed-use development is reinforced by private financing policies that view mixed-use development as riskier than single-use development. Many communities -- particularly those that are dispersed and largely auto-dependent -- employ street and development design practices that reduce pedestrian activity.



As the personal and societal benefits of pedestrian friendly communities are realized – benefits which include lower transportation costs, greater social interaction, improved personal and environmental health, and expanded consumer choice -- many are calling upon the public and private sector to facilitate the development of walkable places. Land use and community design plays a pivotal role in encouraging pedestrian environments. By building places with multiple destinations within close proximity, where the streets and sidewalks balance all forms of transportation, communities have the basic framework for encouraging walkability.

New Urbanism (one view)

by VirtualCity

New urbanism occasionally encompasses other city planning systems such as smart growth, and is occasionally recognized as a separate entity. The idea claims to originate in the early twentieth century with the development of the neighborhoods it uses as models, though as a movement, it is responding to the perceived weaknesses in suburban development.

Whether or not smart growth is an offshoot of new urbanism, the two share a number of concepts. Both emphasize the important of a compact, walkable community center, and the assimilation of different types of housing and commercial buildings. An emphasis on environmentally-conscious building, the renovation of brown- or greyfield land, and historic preservation are other similarities.

However, because new urbanism was created as a specific theory for urban design rather than simply being based on a looser set of ideals, its definition is more concrete than that of smart growth. Andres Duany and Elizabeth Plater-Zyberk founded the Congress for the New Urbanism, inspired by the time the husband-and-wife team spent at Yale. Their guidelines for a ‘new urban’ neighborhood suggest the inclusion of most of these elements:

• A recognizable center for the town/city/community, such as a green square or distinctive intersection, in which the transit stop is also situated.
• Buildings in the neighborhood center placed close to the street, to form a well-defined space.
• A walk of not much more than 5 minutes from any home to the community center, or approximately 2,000 feet.
• Mixed housing types, including apartments, rowhouses and detached homes, to provide a suitable dwelling for people of all ages and all economic means.
• An auxiliary building for workspace or a garage apartment is allowed in the backyard of each home.
• Parking lots or garages in the back of homes and businesses, rather than fronting the streets.
• Shops and offices to sufficiently serve the weekly needs of residents on the edge of the community.
• An elementary school close enough for most children to walk from home.
• Small parks or playgrounds near every home, not more than a tenth of a mile away.
• Streets that create a linked network to disperse traffic.
• Relatively narrow streets, suitable for pedestrians and bicycles, preferably lined with trees.
• Some major spots in the neighborhood center reserved for buildings to facilitate community meetings and activities, or for religious, cultural, or educational purposes.
• A self-governing community, guided by a council that makes decisions on maintenance and change.

There are a number of complaints lodged against new urbanism—the first, a semantics issue, that the scheme is not actually ‘new,’ as it derives its inspiration from American towns of the pre-automobile era. Some argue, conversely, that this halcyon design is based upon a system that exists only in nostalgia. Either way, it has drawn criticism chiefly for emphasizing aesthetic values over practical design, especially as a new urban community might relate to the surrounding region. The delineation of design elements irks those who feel the plan undermines American property rights and civil liberties, while on the opposite side of the spectrum, some accuse it of being a gentrification plan that would force lower-income families from their neighborhoods. Though the transportation habits of new urban residents may improve, the communities tend to remain socially homogenous ones.