Design Thoughts

Capitol Hill’s Other Bauhaus(es)

As well as being the name of Capitol Hill’s premier coffee house and a 1980s Goth band, Bauhaus was the name of the modern movement in architecture’s most famous design school. Perhaps the most famous, ever. The only competition for such a superlative may be for the École des Beaux-Arts, the Parisian school that is most (in)famous for its pedagogy of classical architecture, and whose pre-immanence was in fact eclipsed once the Bauhaus came into being in the early 20th Century. The Bauhaus was justly famous as a school for painting, sculptor, dance, graphic design, but it was in the field of architecture that its legacy was — and is — strongest. Modernist icons such as Mies and Gropius both lead and taught at the institution, and both followed with highly successful and influential professional careers after the Bauhaus was disbanded by the Nazis prior to World War II. The design pedagogy taught resulted in some of the 20th Century’s best buildings, including that of the school itself, designed by Gropius and pictured below.  

[caption id="attachment_2113" align="aligncenter" width="550" caption="The Bauhaus (Source: Wikipedia)"]The Bauhaus (Source: Wikipedia)[/caption]

 

It would be hard to underestimate the influence the Bauhaus had on design schools in the United States. After its closing many instructors came here to continue their teaching careers and professional practice. Gropius landed and Harvard, while Mies ended up at the Illinois Institute of Technology in Chicago. Even tiny Black Mountain College (no longer extant) in the mountains of North Carolina landed some Bauhaus alums. The design approach taught was, in its time, at the cutting edge. So cutting edge, in fact, that it was initially a design approach typically found only in larger cities or for larger clients or more prestigious buildings. That was of course bound to change with time, but smaller markets (as Seattle at the time) were longer to embrace the Bauhaus aesthetic, especially for smaller, developer driven buildings. Education also had an influence on the Bauhaus’s dissemination into the U.S., as the Beaux-Arts tradition was what was taught at the vast majority of our universities well into the 1930s, and most likely at the U of Washington as well.

 

[caption id="attachment_2114" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="303 Harvard Avenue E Corner View"]303 Harvard Avenue E Corner View[/caption]

 

And though perhaps a bit slower to arrive at the modernists dance, Seattle’s Capitol Hill is fortunate to have several Bauhaus/International Style (similar time period and aesthetic) influenced apartments of various sizes, including the mid-sized beauty pictured above, built in 1949. Thirty years elapsed between the construction of the Bauhaus and 303 Harvard Ave E, perhaps enough time for a direct connection to be tenuous; however, the lineage is evident. Cubic massing, concentrated and expansive use of glass (with an emphasis on horizontals juxtaposed by verticals), and something missing form today’s Bauhaus prodigy: the crisp delineation of the depth between the buildings mass (in this case brick) verses its openings.

 

[caption id="attachment_2115" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="303 Harvard East Elevation"]303 Harvard East Elevation[/caption]

 

Similar to the recently profiled Boylston Court, 303 has the beloved steel window, whose effectiveness as a design element is enhanced by it being framed by the more massive feel of the brick, as well as the little horizontal projections at the window heads and sills. No corner windows here, alas, but the modernist,s next favorite trick — that of the continuous ribbon window — and here deftly used in combination with concrete spandrels on the building’s most significant facade. Nice!

 

[caption id="attachment_2116" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="303 Harvard Entrance"]303 Harvard Entrance[/caption]

 

Even the addressing numbers have the same proto-super graphic and vertical arrangement as the Bauhaus, this time with an art-deco font. The concrete entry canopy continues the thin lines above the windows in the body of the building, and is at a bit skewed from the mass of the rest of the building. No steel frames here, the window glass is framed directly into the concrete structure, lending it further distinction from the rest of the building. Especially nice is the re-entrant corner and the lone steel post. It would be nice to have a look at the interiors of the units, hopeful that they still may have some great space-age appliances and fixtures.

There are at least several other buildings of this ilk on the Hill, three of which I documented in this pamphlet: Capitol Hill Building Analysis . Each one unique, and each one worthy of providing precedent to future design projects on the Hill — all to better balance the prevalent and suffocating post-modern pastiche that is all too often referenced in the majority of our current development.

Boylston Court

Courtyard housing is one of the oldest types of housing — whether for individual or multiple families — and dates back to at least ancient Greek times. It has such a lengthy heritage for several reasons, including interior cross ventilation and increased access to daylight. Outdoors, there is the ability to achieve a well-defined (and defended) space, which can be completely enclosed or open. Capitol Hill has its own assortment of courtyard housing, the majority most likely built before the 1970s with the Anhalts, dating to the 1920s, as the most famous example. As to the reasons for courtyards falling out of fashion I can only speculate, but maximizing return on investment must be one of them, as providing large planted landscapes not only lessens the number of units per parcel but also increases operational costs. Whatever the reasons, it is unfortunate fewer of them are being built.  

[caption id="attachment_2102" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="Boylston Court view of Courtyard from Street"]Boylston Court view of Courtyard from Street[/caption]

 

I have a couple of favorite courtyard housing projects on the Hill, including Boylston Court, a nicely complex project just west of Seattle Central Community College, and the subject of this posting. Boylston Court has several noteworthy qualities, including a lushly planted and well maintained landscape, a south facing courtyard, and – my favorite aspect — an astonishing variety of design and detail in a compact footprint. Taken individually, the parts of Boylston Court are nothing outstanding; rather, it is in their successful assemblage that an exemplary building is found.

 

[caption id="attachment_2103" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="Boylston Court view of Garages Along Olive"]Boylston Court view of Garages Along Olive[/caption]

 

Most likely built in the 1950s, it has many elements of that era. including roman brick and steel framed windows. I know I am not alone when I write that I am a sucker for steel-framed corner widows. And who wouldn’t be? They occur in several locations at Boylston Court, at both prominent, and well, less prominent, locations (such as this one at the above garage). But ooh, what beauties they are, regardless of location. It is a shame that steel windows today are (incredibly) expensive, making them prohibitive for most projects — a reason for us to treasure and preserve the few remaining ones we have. Other details include the most minimal of handrails (as seen  in the above photo) — similar to the steel windows there is nothing there but the minimum needed for support. Too bad such delicacy  is not allowed by code anymore . . .

 

[caption id="attachment_2104" align="aligncenter" width="730" caption="Boylston Court Southwest Corner of Courtyard at Olive"]Boylston Court Southwest Corner of Courtyard at Olive[/caption]

 

Opposite the courtyard from the above garage photo is another beloved steel-framed corner window, this time with the roof seemingly floating above it. I pray the owners never swap them out for vinyl windows (it does happen). Note how the foreground gives a hint of the courtyard landscape contained beyond.

 

[caption id="attachment_2105" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="Boylston Court view of Eastern Building from Olive"]Boylston Court view of Eastern Building from Olive[/caption]

 

Above is an alternate view of the garage facade in the second image. Just beyond Boylston Court is an even older apartment building (in blue). Compared to the box that is its neighbor (and mind you, I do fancy boxes) Boyslton Court’s facade and massing falls with the grade. This not only creates a better pedestrian environment (garage doors not withstanding), but also creates a break in the mass of the building at both the roofline and the plane of the facade. Here is a break down in massing (that Holy Grail of design review boards) that is actually understandable and ties back to something tangible. What a refreshing departure from the current modulation craze that seems to have neither rhyme nor reason, other than a designer’s whimsy.

 

[caption id="attachment_2106" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="Garages and Decks along Boylston Avenue"]Garages and Decks along Boylston Avenue[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2107" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="Facade Along Boylston with Varandah Above"]Facade Along Boylston with Varandah Above[/caption]

 

The other street elevation of Boylston Court occurs, appropriately enough, along Boylston Avenue, where the designer created one of the better apartment facades on Capitol Hill although it is (again) dominated by garage doors for a section of its length. Despite this apparent handicap (or because of it?), over the garages there is a nice and spacious verandah on the level above the garage, whose size makes it appear to actually be quite usable. Being this close to the street a nice venue is offered for the residents and passing public to informally engage with one another (or not). Here, the garages are effectively used as a base, an intermediary that helps to maintain protocols. The garages also provide modulation (that again is understandable) to the verandahs, and order the various levels of transparency of the facade as it transitions from brick to metal railing and back to brick. Classic.

 

[caption id="attachment_2108" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="Boylston Court End Unit with Private Entry"]Boylston Court End Unit with Private Entry[/caption]

 

Further north along Boylston is still another expression, this time more of a townhouse or even a single family home. Making a return appearance is the delicate guardrail from along Olive and the much-loved corner window. This unit even gets a bit of a front yard and entry porch, in place of a verandah, as well as its own set of stairs. Despite this entry being the fourth (fifth?) design treatment of the street frontage of the modestly sized project, the complex’s over-all architectural unity remains in tact. This is an extremely delicate balance to maintain, especially with so little street frontage. To have all of these parts flow cohesively is not something to take for granted, as each section can simultaneously stand on its own merit while still contributing to the greater whole; however, it is not just the buildings that play a role. The landscape’s design is equally important, be it the built landscape of the verandahs, the micro, intimate front yard noted above, or the the courtyard, pictured below.

 

[caption id="attachment_2109" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="Boylston Court Inner Courtyards"]Boylston Court Inner Courtyards[/caption]

 

Instead of digging a large hole, and filling it with building (a typical approach), the designers of Boylston Court approached the site differently, leading to the above-mentioned qualities.  Where this approach really bears fruit is in the courtyards. In addition to the large, central courtyard depicted above, there are two alley-sized-courtyards that wind their way up the site, to the east and then north, creating a splendid terracing and layering of space effectively creating shared landscapes that are at the same time intimate. A well resolved dichotomy.

 

[caption id="attachment_2110" align="aligncenter" width="720" caption="Courtyard Facade with Wood Siding"]Courtyard Facade with Wood Siding[/caption]

 

Above, one sees the only significant break in the otherwise uniform palette of roman brick — rough sawn cedar siding (a fuller extent can be seen the first photo); curious, that this change is somewhat buried in the courtyard, and not on the street, where it would be more ‘expressive’. Or is it? I like to think it yet another example of the designer’s sophisticated approach. Whisper, don’t scream. Also, the wood siding is a softer material than the brick, and in the designer’s eye more apropos to be within the softer courtyard, the softer landscape.

Boylston Court is a great building in our neighborhood, and a great example of how a context driven design (be that the site or the content of the building’s program) can provide a wealth of valuable clues about which to design, and lead to a building that not only fits well into its context, but enhances and creates its own. It is also a superb example of courtyard housing, and a building typology I would like to see more of on the Hill (albeit, at a greater density).

The Italy of the Italians Part 4: Bologna and The Evolving Uses of Public Space

 

[caption id="attachment_1986" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Bologna: Distant View of Famous Tower"][/caption]

As well as being home to the world’s oldest university, Bologna has many other noteworthy accolades: it is among Italy's wealthiest cities, it is a favorite destination of Italian tourists when traveling within their own country, and its population growth has been amongst the steadiest in the county. These facts, along with others, make Bologna the most dynamic of the three cities visited on the tour, and the most urban, in a contemporary sense. While there are certainly tourists in abundance, Bologna’s prosperity does not rely on their support alone; it is a national center for commercial trade fairs, publishing houses and bookstores, and academic pursuits of all kinds. It is also a fast-paced city that still maintaining the charms of its smaller Italian brethren.

[caption id="attachment_1901" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Colonnade and Bologna's Duomo"][/caption]

Wandering the streets of Bologna, one does not get the sense the city had a zenith, or point at which its development was stalled or frozen. Its prosperity extended beyond the Renaissance, and in fact continues to this day, making it an interesting venue to take note of an evolution of the uses of public space, new urban typologies, and the changes in the private and public buildings that create them. The most obvious manifestation of this evolution is Bologna's justly famed colonnades. Kilometers of them. Over forty in total, should memory serve me correctly? While other cities have colonnades -- and Bologna certainly did not invent them -- the sheer profusion and varying character of those in the capital of Emilia Romagna is profound. They occur on nearly every street, in every neighborhood, and are made up of every traditional material imaginable. They share many similarities amongst their variety, however. They are typically one or two stories high, have arches defining their street side, and their ceilings are typically groin or arched vaults. These physical attributes are secondary to their spatial importance, for taken in toto, the colonnades create an extension of the public realm into the private -- and vice-versa -- throughout the city. This new venue enabled a finer grain of public space, and perhaps, new levels of social interaction.

[caption id="attachment_1863" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Long Colonnade"][/caption]

Within the common traits, however, there are differences in craft and spatial definition. Those along main shopping streets are, as one would imagine, amongst the fanciest, with their adjoining buildings tempting passers-by with elegantly displayed merchandise, while those defining newer streets are straighter than those in the older parts of the city. Many of those in the university districts are decidedly plainer, even a bit tired looking, and a reflection of the disposable income of the students who frequent them. Yet no matter the use of the adjoining structure, almost every building has a colonnade, shop fronts or not, with some colonnades even occurring along blank walls.

[caption id="attachment_1942" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Simple Colonnade"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1947" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Fancy Colonnade"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1945" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Colonnade Corner"][/caption]

An interesting signifier of the evolution of the colonnade can be found in their exterior designs, and how the uniformity (or lack there of) between individual colonnades untied (or did not) the street wall formed by the buildings. This change is indicative of the conception of the city as a whole, and is key to the evolution of the city in the West. In Bologna, one can see how early on colonnades varied from one building to another, with hardly a care for the design of their neighbors. As time progressed, colonnades became a great unifier of the streetscape, and were designed to the same heights and materials, regardless of the continued individual expressions of the buildings set upon them. This unified design approach marked an important step is seeing the city as a collection of desperate parts, to one where rules of decorum were established, rules of order that reflected the greater stability and confidence projected by urban dwellers in their relationships with one another and with the city itself. The city was less a place of the individual, and more the place of the collective, of the group, and in so being the architecture and the streets they defined were unified. This new, unified conception of the streetscape was a result of an ever more united political and social purpose, and the rising interrelationships between individuals as the market economy took greater hold, and the beneficiaries and drivers of that market economy – the middle class – had a greater role in defining the public realm, and its need for recognizable spaces within which for people to gather, to tend to affairs.

[caption id="attachment_1949" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Early Colonnades"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1912" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Newer Colonnades AlongVia dell'Indipendenza"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1948" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Newer Colonnades Along Via dell'Indipendenza"][/caption]

A similar – yet contrary -- argument, could be made of Bologna’s contemporary, foreign, totalitarian regimes, which expended great efforts on creating unified expressions of their absolute power, their ability to control everything, including the (quasi) public realm. Yet Italy was not a unified country until the late 19th century, and though there certainly were local dukes controlling the affairs of others, their influence could not have been as great in countries such as France, where the powers of the kings was absolute, and where commerce, entrepreneurship, and trade was less important to the well being of the city as was the case in Italy. And I do not need to waste efforts to note the disastrous effects a market economy un-checked can have on cities, as found in profusion throughout the United States. But I digress.

[caption id="attachment_1909" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza Maggiore"][/caption]

Bologna’s most important public space, the Piazza Maggiore, makes use of the colonnade, and the social structure if fostered, to great success. Here, the ground floor activities of the surrounding buildings are not appendages or after-thoughts, but fully integrated uses, with the colonnade being the intermediary brokering the deal between private and public realms, and creating the necessary in-between space often crucial to seeing the grey between the black and white. Bologna’s justly famous left-of-center politics are well served by the Piazza, with open political debate occurring at all hours during our stay there.

[caption id="attachment_1866" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Neptune Fountain"]Pontificator, Piazza San Maggiore

While certainly not unique, and probably not the first of it kind, Piazza Maggiore's splendid Neptune fountain is of a scale and conception that sets it apart, and is the strongest indicator yet of the redefinition of the piazza from a place of politics and markets to one of leisure. This formidable statue breaks in message and in execution from the previously predominant statue paying homage to a city noble man, military hero, or favorite son. It is a statue that pays homage to a mythical character meant to evoke ones fancy, not one's loyalty to the state. By depicting Neptune, the designer made direct reference to Italy's Roman past, Italy’s cultural heritage. Had it been a statue to Caesar August, the same association would have been made, but that would have been more political than cultural, and far less evocative of the new emphasis on leisure activity the piazza was now charged with. By paying homage to Neptune, cultural association is squarely the target. This statue is all about art, not politics. It is meant to be visually entertaining, and not taken too seriously (even tough it is a serious work of art). Its scale -- and its impressive base -- not only defines the space within which it was inserted, but provides ample places on which to sit and socialize. Urban furniture at its finest, and at a grand scale, placed for the pleasure (and appeasement?) of the public.

[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1951" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="A Transparent Palazzo"][/caption]

A subtler, yet equally important evolution in urban typology-evolution is in evidence in Bologna as well: that of the de-fortification of the palazzo, in which here I also include the de-fortification of (i.e. planting of) the piazza. Centuries passed between the Piazza Diamante of Ferarra (see previous post) and the palazzo pictured here. Just as the Este Dukes of Ferrara went from castello to Renaissance palazzo, the gentry of Bologna went from the Renaissance palazz0 – and its still essentially fortified demeanor -- to one of  a more refined detailing and openness. Furthering this advancement was a more substantial relationship between palazzo and piazza (now more of a garden, in contemporary parlance), which was afforded by the loggia pictured here, where the loggia gives the palazzo’s residents something pleasant to look at. Were cities becoming safer places, and fortified homes no longer needed? Perhaps. Or was it that city dwelling had evolved beyond simple survival, to expand to notions of sociability, openness, and a closer relationship with nature? Had expressing the pleasures of urban living usurped expressing merely its means of survival? The same questions (and implied answers) could be inferred by the garden in front of the palazzo. This garden is no place of business, or of authority. It is a place in which to relax, to enjoy, all actions that can doubtlessly happen in a non-planted piazza, but here the garden’s obvious use is pleasure -- not business. And the landscape is the perfect medium to make this transition, by presenting a softer image of urban living, the same as the loggia that fronts it.

[caption id="attachment_1910" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Two Towers"][/caption]

Bologna’s charms are not limited to academic musings of the evolving nature of urban space, for it houses many of the typically charming medieval and Renaissance qualities of it neighboring cities. The most famous of these qualities being a pair of massive towers, just outside the Piazza Maggiore. They are all that remains of perhaps dozens of such medieval structures, these two neighbors (like the one in Pisa), are a bit our of true, and unfortunately closed to visitors out of concern that the extra weight might make them collapse. The photo distorts their true sizes -- they are quite tall and massive (see the first image of the post to better sense the size of the tallest), yet are crammed within the smallest imaginable piazza. Of course, Bologna is filled with little gems of buildings, all alone, whose gem-like qualities are more so because of the contrast to the colonnaded buildings.

[caption id="attachment_1944" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Small Chapel"][/caption]

The best of the little gems was the biggest surprise -- a little shop front by Scarpa! At least that is who I assume designed it, as it has all the requisite trademarks. What a great find it was indeed, I only wish time has permitted me to return to it and have a look inside during business hours.

[caption id="attachment_1865" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Scarpa (?) Shop-Front"][/caption]

The changes noted above were not unique to Bologna, and the political and cultural forces that heralded them are informed speculation on my part -- informed mostly by comparing them to the previous cities visited on this tour, and on many previous ones. I will continue to explore the notions of commerce, the market place, leisure, and the political and cultural structures within which they worked formed not only these magnificent Italian cities, but moving also in our own cities, in our own time.

The Italy of the Italians Part 3: Ferrara, City of the Este Dukes (and Great Cycling!)

Ferrara was the second city visited on our tour of Emilia Romagna, but only in sequential order, as its qualities are second to none. A city of 130,000, it is substantially larger than Mantua, and exhibits the extra layers of complexity one envisions accompanying larger size. The Este family governed Ferrara's rise to prominence, which lasted from the 13th through the 18th centuries. Like the other city-states visited, the ruling family's patronage attracted great artists. Imagine say 5th Avenue in New York (old money), combined with the Village or Williamsburg (the newly minted, of course, excluded); or, the patrons living (often housing) the artists they employ, having them at their disposal for a fresco here, a marble bust there. Perhaps some lines of Latin verse? Such a scenario would be difficult to reconstruct today, for the intimate connections between artisan and benefactor are of a different nature, as art today is more-often-than-not seen as critical lens through which to view the elite, not one as a means to legitimize their regime. Suffice it to say that working for the man was seen as a good gig, not something one should shun, and this association is perhaps one factor that lead to urban environments of remarkable quality, even those in a compact package. [caption id="attachment_1815" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Ferrara Night Scene"][/caption]

Unlike the near-future regimes of say, France, the rulers of the Italian city states-drew a closer association between themselves and the cities they inhabited. The state was them, it was true, but the state was of a far more manageable size, perhaps another attribute leading to artistic fruition. When France's Louis XIV wanted a new home, he abandoned the Louvre in Paris, and built his new palace 30 miles outside of Paris at his father's (Louis XIII's) hunting lodge at Versailles, as distant from the poor (that his oppressive rule helped to galvanize, to the great detriment of his grandson, Louis Seize) as possible. He purposefully abandoned the city, and his court (and the artistic trappings of courtly life) joined him. While the Italian dukes did have country estates (as noted in the Mantua post), to my recollection they were more weekend retreats -- not permanent escapes -- as was Versailles or even the Hapsburg's Schoenbrun. Italian dukes were firmly planted in their cities, and they wanted their cities to be just right, as in evidence by the fine buildings they (and their courtiers) commissioned, and the vast art collections their urban domiciles housed (not unlike Henry Clay Frick 400 years later?). Although far from what one would call enlightened or democratic rule, this close association between the ruler and the ruled was a magnet to any artisan desiring both recognition and livelihood.

[caption id="attachment_1823" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Castello Estanse"][/caption]

In Ferrara the hierarchy of ruler to ruled is clearly displayed, and was a key determinant in the city's urban form. Dominating the center of Ferrara is the Este's early domicile, the Castello Estense, whose origins date to the late 14th century. It is easy to imagine the castle being surrounded by a more rural landscape, one that would eventually transform into the city. The Castello is a fortress, and does not project the refined tastes one associates with palazzi built by the Medicis in Florence, or even the Estes' future palazzo down the street. Upon reflection, the castello's more fortified appearance makes sense: cities were reestablishing themselves as the centers of society for the first time since the Roman Empire, and they were still pretty rough places to live. That roughness was reflected in the lack of urbanity of both the rulers and their architects, as the rules of decorum governing the arts were still nascent, still in development. Rural precedents were all that was available -- where castles dominated -- not palazzi. The evolution of the palazzo in its familiar form resulted from architects (and patrons) crafting a new typology, one that reflected a new type of urban living and governance. Pictured below is the successor palazzo to the castello pictured above, and built 100 years later. A few blocks down from the castello, it is squarely within the typology associated with Italian palazzi, (and its derivative French Hotel): a simple box, with regularly arranged yet minimum openings, arranged around a central courtyard, and accessed through a quite large, gated archway. A plan that is remarkably similar, actually, to that of the castello, yet this time reflecting a greater expectation from the owner that their domicile express not only fortitude, but design savvy as well. Savvy displayed by the very artisans a growing city and patronage was available to groom.

[caption id="attachment_1816" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza Diamante"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1817" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Piazza Diamante Detail"][/caption]

Above is a detail from the Diamante, and it reveals its spectacular stone facing (no plaster here!), where one can see the thousands (!) of diamond-shaped profiles cut into the stone blocks. The diamond was the symbol of the Este family, and formed the motif for the building's cladding. The diamond facing is imparts a fine grain the facade, and foreshadows (by about 500 years) the current fetish many architects have with finely delineated building surfaces, such as the Future System's Selfridges building in Birmingham, England. In all honesty, I had never heard of the Palazzo Diamante, and after seeing it, why not? It is spectacular! It currently houses, needless to say, a superb art collection.

[caption id="attachment_1792" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Birmingham Selfridges Building (Wikipedia)"][/caption]

The Diamante is just on the edge of the old town's transition into the new. Relative terms, because the transition occurred in the 16th century. Planning wise, the transition meant going from the crooked, organic streets that were laid out (or better put, evolved) during the Middle Ages and Renaissance, to stick straight streets, and what was to become the planning norm in both Europe and North America. The transition to the gridiron revealed a streetscape that reminded me more of colonial America than Italy, in that the buildings were old, yet arranged in a highly regular, rectilinear manner. Quite a nice cross-section in time. But as in virtually any European city, I confess it was the medieval streets that held the greatest mystery, charm, and beauty. It is, in fact, the clearly demarcated evolution from medieval to modern urban planning that led to Ferrara's recent designation as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

[caption id="attachment_1818" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Post Renaissance Straight Street"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1739" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="A Typical, Organic Street"][/caption]

Ferrara is resplendent with the twisty and curvy, and there is a particular street -- Via Volte -- that combines the labyrinth streetscape with a series of archways and bridges that is unlike any street we had before seen. Adding to its formal singularity was that is contained little retail or other public destinations, making it exceptionally quite, even sublime. Streets like the one pictured below occurred for block after block after block, with the shade to light rhythm afforded by the bridging elements creating a soothing progression.

[caption id="attachment_1825" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Via Volte"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1826" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Bicycle, Via Volte"][/caption]

Contrasting the above mysterious mazes, are Ferrara’s almost complete series of city walls, which date back to the 13 and 14th centuries. Such walls were common place amongst any city of size throughout Europe, but most have long been torn down or simply returned to the landscape, making Ferrara's intact walls a treasure to the community. Walls were of course defensive in nature, but formed an even more important function: that of regulating commerce. The old guild systems and the city's rulers held a tight grip on who was permitted to do business within the city, a grip they zealously guarded. During the reigns of the guilds (and for that matter, until quite recently), the main revenue for cities (and countries) was taxing goods that originated from outside, with walls forming clear and secure venues to extract specie from foreign merchants. Today, the remnants of the walls still demarcate many of the entrances into the city, albeit without gates or tariffs. The tops of the walls, and the frontage alongside them, has been turned into landscaped parks with stunning allays of trees forming regal processions. As found in so much of Ferrara, atop the walls are great cycling paths, boosting Ferrara’s reputation as Italy's premier cycling town.

[caption id="attachment_1736" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Atop the City's Ancient Walls"][/caption]

Returning back to the central town, one comes across some familiar players: piazza, duomo, and shopping street (local retail, rest assured) but with a Ferrara twist: the hybrid Duomo/piazza/market place. I suppose it is not that much of a hybrid, as the typology of the Duomo is founded upon that of the basilica, whose origins were the Roman market place. In Ferrara the evolution has come full circle, as pictured below. The left (sumptuous facade) of the Duomo, is well, duomo-like, complete with religious iconography. Made of marble, its finely carved details and rich, pink hues lend majesty to it presence. Note that efforts for cladding the remainder of the Duomo were suspended so that the campanile (far right) could be completed. Between the two, however, funds seem to have run short, and the bones of the Duomo are bare for all to see: red brick. Nothing unique (or unattractive) here, as many such edifices remain incomplete despite their great age. What is intriguing about this incompleteness is that it fostered a change of use as well, from the sacred to the profane; or, form the house of God to those of commerce (yes, that profane), as borne out by the market stalls/sheds unceremoniously attached to the side of the Duomo.

[caption id="attachment_1827" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Ferrara Duomo Main Elevation"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1843" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Duomo Market Stall Elevation"][/caption]

Beyond and to the left (in the above photo) is one of the towers of the Castello. Again, secular and sacred authority sharing and defining the same, centrally located piazza. Pictured below, and on the opposite facade of the Duomo to the market stalls, is perhaps one of the most successful - yet elusive - public space topologies one could hope for, as I suspect it was created with no forethought whatsoever. It revealed itself while we were enjoying some wine at what is claimed to be Europe's oldest bar (circa 1300). As day fell to evening, we witnessed the gradual, casual, yet purposeful utilization of the low wall at the base of the Duomo as a meeting place, whose seating ledge transformed an otherwise blank wall into a prime gathering place. The photo below was taken just as we took our seats -- within an hour so many people had congregated about it that my photos were unable to clearly depict its architectural setting. The alley formed between the Duomo and the wine bar was barely 20 feet wide, and as long as the market stalls in the above photo. Sufficient foot traffic, a wall at just the right height, intimate enclosure, and the assurance of an audience were the key ingredients to ensuring this unintended meeting place its success.

[caption id="attachment_1744" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Seating Wall along the Duomo"][/caption]

As much of a success as this unintentional, remainder space was, an intentional space was even more so, as bore out by its very active uses. Behind the arched-portal pictured below, was a courtyard space the housed the most visually exciting happenings during our all too brief stay in Ferrara. For consecutive evenings the courtyard hosted the practice of flag-teams. The participants appeared to be of high school age, with coaching from parents. For what future pageant they were practicing, I could only speculate, and it did not matter anyway, for the event was a joy to behold. The venue for the revelry was a large, flat, courtyard, enclosed by buildings perhaps 4 to 5 stories high. An exterior stair alongside one of the buildings provided a great prospect from which to witness the events. There were no shops along the perimeter, no restaurants, no cafes. Just a sufficiently large, unadorned, level, and enclosed public space. A simple space to house spectacular events.

[caption id="attachment_1740" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Entry Portal into the Courtyard of Flags . . ."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1733" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Flag Practice"][/caption]

Taken as an ensemble, the Italians have created the world's most beautiful cities, in all imaginable sizes. From large, to medium. to small, the cities were created by a people with an unmatched skill at designing, nurturing, and -- most importantly of all -- creatively using the public realm. Be they unintentional spaces, those paying homage to the powers that be, or spaces repurposed from uses far removed from their original intent, theirs is a culture that knows better than perhaps any how to create places to share and celebrate public life.

Next: Bologna, the City of Arcades!