Two ancient French cities. The first, founded by Cadillac in 1701; the second, founded by Bienville nearly seventeen years later. Both predate the republic by several generations. Detroit and New Orleans have followed vastly divergent paths in the three centuries since their founding, but there are some interesting parallels between the two.

The St. Charles Streetcar is back in service.

Both cities are a little ragged by time, studded with faded remnants of a more prosperous era. Both cities face struggles for new employment generators. Both have suffered cataclysmic devastation of urban fabric, and a precipitous population loss. Both have fabulous renovated buildings casually intermixed with brooding ruins. And both Detroit and New Orleans have some of the most creative and passionate residents in America; determined to maintain an urban lifestyle unique to themselves.

Magazine Street shops

I’m presenting an album of New Orleans photos today, as a way to catch up with my readers and as a mea culpa for my long absence. I was married last month, and that combined with our honeymoon in the Crescent City somehow pulled me away from my blogging duties. You understand.

We were in town for the freak snowstorm.

So what’s going on in New Orleans these days? A lot; in fact the oldest historic neighborhoods have largely recovered from the aftermath of Katrina. I learned that this is because, before the flood “protection” installed in the early twentieth century, residential construction occurred only on natural levees and ridges. In the deltaic floodplain of the lower Mississippi, the highest ground is actually closest to the river. Here’s where we find the French Quarter, Faubourg Marigny, and Esplanade Avenue; and the Warehouse District, Lower Magazine Street, and the Garden District.

Which isn’t to say that the city doesn’t have a lot of work to do. New Orleans’ biggest employer, the tourism industry, was heavily damaged by the bad publicity after the hurricane. We were received like royalty at every shop or cafe we visited (not that this is all that different than my recollection of pre-storm hospitality!).

Restoration work on Esplanade mansion.

We found this month to be a good moment for a relaxing New Orleans getaway, before the intensity of Mardi Gras takes over much of the city in February. New Orleans is currently hosting a terrific contemporary arts exhibition titled Prospect.1, which has been running since November and will wind down on Sunday, January 18th. Featured in the New York Times, this exhibition is housed in high profile settings like the Contemporary Arts Center, as well as abandoned structures and fields in the Lower Ninth Ward.

Contemporary Arts Center, Interior view.

The ‘orange house’, part of the Prospect.1 city-wide exhibition.

Site of levee break, and a stop on the Prospect.1 exhibition. Lower Ninth Ward.

The organizers have prepared an outstanding wayfinding map, and there is a reliable shuttle service connecting all the Prospect.1 venues.

The Lower Ninth Ward, or is it a west-side Detroit street view?

I also made time for a visit to the Preservation Resource Center on Tchoupitoulas Street.

Preservation Resource Center.

The PRC is a strong voice for presentation and sustainable urban living in New Orleans, and has been a critical player in the many post-hurricane debates concerning damaged historic buildings.

A tattered blue roof tarp, a symbol of post-Katrina New Orleans, survives on this shotgun.

With more than a dozen staff members, a permanent exhibition and shop space, and a thick monthly magazine, they are a first-class, professional preservation organization. Since I’m sure all of my readers are already members of Preservation Wayne, I would encourage you to support PRC as well.

A spray-painted Katrina marker left as a remembrance on this restored mansion.

There is no reason Detroit can’t take inspiration from what’s going on in New Orleans; the rebounding neighborhoods, the entrepreneurs populating historic storefronts, the resurgent music scene, and a civic obsession with art, preservation, and culture. Forget Atlanta and its vapid glassy skyline; this haunting, idiosyncratic city is Detroit’s true southern soul mate.

An antebellum mansion succumbing to nature and neglect.

I’m hopeful that the next several years will see a slow improvement in the fortunes of these two soulful American cities, which share more problems, and more potential, than most other towns in America.

In a recent Detroit Free Press article we read happily about progress in funding for transit in Detroit. Limiting car trips within the city improves the quality of life for all of us, and reduces the need for endless road construction and additional parking garages. Take a look at the website for Transportation Riders United for the unlimited potential given better transit in metro Detroit.

Guardian building: reachable by bus

I’m cautiously optimistic about future transit development in Detroit. The Detroit Department of Transportation (DDOT) seems to have shaken off the doldrums of recent years and seems to be entering the 21st century. Only this month they have launched a pilot program for bicycles on buses [PDF]. This has been available for years in Los Angeles and is a terrific way to expand the use and reach of a transit trip. It also helps remind us that bicycles are not just for recreation, but are also full-fledged transportation devices with zero carbon footprint. Give DDOT a call to express your support for this progressive inter-modal initiative.

Additionally (and this is the design geek inside me editorializing), I find the current DDOT pocket maps (e.g. Jefferson route [PDF]) to be graphically engaging and nicely done. This is not unimportant; a strong graphic vocabulary helps build an organizational culture of professionalism and pride, and (most importantly) attracts new riders. You can find and download the map for your route here. Incidentally, the iconic “green and yellow” colors date back to the founding of DDOT as a municipal entity back in the Roaring Twenties.

Neighborhood organizations and church groups (or even enthusiastic individuals) have another way to help transit in Detroit. DDOT’s “Adopt-a-Shelter” program [PDF], modeled after those in other cities, allows groups to commit to the maintenance of a nearby shelter. For anyone familiar with the discussions concerning Broken Windows theory (and everyone reading this blog should be!), the care and maintenance of your local bus shelters should be a top priority. Planting a few flowers or scrubbing off some graffiti is only a few hours work on a Saturday morning.

I would love to hear about some DDOT bus experiences from my readers…good or bad, just add your comment below (and your suggestions for improvement). Detroit buses have had a mixed reputation in recent years, and I’d like to think that things have gotten better for riders and drivers. Safe, reliable, and convenient transit is a lodestone of a pedestrian-oriented culture and preserves walkable neighborhoods. It also reduces pressure for traffic-generated changes to historic landscapes (bad things like street widenings, paving over vegetation, and planning parking lots where historic buildings still stand…)

Next time you have a chance, take the bus, and park the car for the day. The Woodward or Jefferson routes are good for newbies. If you’re coming down from the ‘burbs, try SMART. The city thanks you.

Along Jefferson Avenue, a few miles east of downtown, you’ll find Indian Village Market. Plainly designed, and fronting on a nondescript parking lot, the market nevertheless plays a vital complementary role to the residential splendor of its historic neighbor. As an urban player, it is as important as nearby Belle Isle; for a vigorous city, residents need a walkable destination from which to buy their milk. Or Detroit-made chips.

Indian Village Market (proudly displaying photos of nearby homes), Detroit, 2008

When I lived up in Pontiac in the mid-1990s, the nearby Three Sisters Market served in this role. Wherever you find a vibrant urban neighborhood, it is likely you’ll find a small grocery within a ten-minute walking radius.

In a larger culture where we are so used to vast superstores and stupendous variety, its easy to overlook the neighborhood market. While prices are often a bit higher, and selection less impressive than the big boxes, every dollar you spend in their modest aisles is a dollar spent directly supporting the city and not a distant retail conglomerate. In a future Detroit, we need viable neighborhood groceries. The recent battle to save the Lafayette Park market, even closer to downtown, illustrates the decisions at hand.

A terrific website called walkscore calculates the “walkability” of any particular address in America, based on distances to nearby amenities. Although imperfect in its analyses, its a useful tool to measure the relative pedestrian friendliness of neighborhoods. My Pontiac address is OK; my first address in New York City gets a perfect score; my present SoCal location is fairly decent, and all easily beat the walkability in suburban areas where I have lived.

Continuing our appreciation of modern “landmarks", here’s one of the pop culture variety: the Frank Gehry designed mall in Santa Monica is being (partially) demolished and rebuilt.

Demolition of Santa Monica Place, 2008

Gen X’ers of a certain age (and other fans of Amy Heckerling) will recall the mall as the mythical location for many of the scenes in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Follow this link to see a Google street view pre-demolition.

In fact, the mall’s exterior, shown in the movie’s opening sequence, was Frank Gehry’s Santa Monica Place…the interior was filmed at the Sherman Oaks Galleria in the San Fernando Valley, from whence the world was introduced to the Valley Girl. This site notes that the Sherman Oaks Galleria was subsequently damaged in the 1994 earthquake and completely rebuilt in an open-air style. Looks like the Orange Julius stand is long gone.

We won’t lament too much about Santa Monica Place, excepting the obvious waste inherent in demolition. Your blogger is currently on exile from Detroit and within walking distance of the building, which boasted only second-rate eating places and not a few empty stores, no doubt due to the stiff competition along the far more attractive commercial street next door.

The new complex will be open to the air, utilizing the Pacific Ocean breezes to cool the public areas and trying to recreate the experience of the adjacent Third Street Promenade. Unfortunately, where the Promenade is a 24-hour public street (limited now to pedestrians), the exterior areas of the new mall will remain private land and thus be closed to public access overnight. This will result in an ersatz public space, not open to the full range of activity found in true public squares. As such, while being more environmentally and aesthetically responsive to its context, the new mall will be the same as its predecessor in terms of public engagement. But it will surely be an improvement, even if we have to bid goodbye to a small fragment of movie history…

A lot of people hate this building. This is Boston City Hall, a famous (some might say notorious) brutalist concrete structure finished in 1968 by Kallman, McKinnell and Knowles. To students and admirers of 20th century architecture–including your blogger–it is a landmark building in every sense, important for architectural, historical, and civic reasons. For others it is a gloomy horror, a thumb in the eye of an historic American city. As such, it is a perfect lens through which we can examine the various tensions between modern architecture, sustainability, and historic preservation.

Boston City Hall, 2008

The building has always had its haters, and continues to be reviled by some today. Boston Mayor Thomas M. Menino, heretofore a strong ally of historic preservation, has proposed selling the building and its site and building a “green” city hall elsewhere. Opponents of the sale cite an almost certain demolition if the property is sold, and additionally note that the construction of a new building, even a green building, always uses much more energy than the reuse of an already existing building.

Boston City Hall Detail, 2008

When New York City’s Penn Station fell in 1963, says author Lorraine Diehl, its architectural character had been abused and neglected by its owner. Its architectural style was judged archaic and hopelessly inappropriate. Cleaning and maintenance had lapsed, advertising signage obscured architectural features, and unsympathetic modifications and renovations had disturbed the original design intent.

In Boston, the City Hall public plaza, designed for the gathering of people, is now used to park city vehicles. Defenders of City Hall note that maintenance has been poor, with light bulbs not replaced. When I visited last week, the windows were dirty, and visible rust was present on the window mullions. A close look at the above photograph will reveal a weed tree, 24 inches high, growing unmolested from the small roof projecting at the building’s corner (look for its shadow). Shall Boston have its own version of Penn Station, a modern monument lost to disinterest and cynicism? Take a trip this summer and decide for yourself.

The 1990 Eindhoven Statement is a statement of principles concerning the preservation of notable modern structures. Docomomo continues this advocacy work internationally today. It is a truism (if not a cliche) of preservation that buildings between 30-60 years old are typically the most endangered and least protected (Penn Station was demolished in its 53rd year). While most cities have made significant progress in protecting pre-war buildings and neighborhoods, post-war buildings are felled almost without protest.

Detroit has plenty enough to worry about regarding all of its historic buildings, but all the same preservationists cannot afford to ignore the importance of its rich collection of auto-age structures.

As you may have inferred, last week I was at the AIA convention in Boston, an annual event bringing together thousands of architects and designers. The convention was held in the recently completed Boston Convention and Exhibition Center (BCEC) by Rafael Vinoly Architects. Although a bit obstreperous for the waterfront Boston context, as civic architecture the new convention center far exceeds other timid efforts closer to home.

Displayed within the BCEC is a scale model of Boston’s downtown, commissioned and maintained by the Boston Redevelopment Authority. City Hall can be located very near the center of the image below.

Scale model of downtown Boston, 2008

If you look carefully at the above image, you will note the strange disconnect in the fabric of the built environment between the North End (foreground) and downtown Boston. Between the two is a path of trees and greenery from left to right in the photograph, which traces the route of a former elevated interstate highway, the “Central Artery” of I-93. This is the famous “Big Dig“.

New park over Big Dig tunnel, 2008

Today the elevated freeway is gone, replaced by the automotive tunnel underneath and a budding linear park at street level. Although the project was difficult, the results are heartening. There is one column of steel remaining, perhaps as a remembrance of the vicious things we have done to our cities, and furthermore the hope that there is always a way to reconstitute the civic beauty we have lost.

Steel remnant of elevated freeway, 2008