Category: Pop Culture

  • Architecture in Motion

    A colleague described a project in Atlanta years ago.  It was a building sited off of an expressway.  Although the building was envisioned to have the typical sort of menu of architectural experiences – approach, enter, inhabit – it was noted that most people would experience this building differently.  Most would experience this building while in motion – at a high rate of speed while travelling along the expressway. They would never experience the interior spaces of this building.  My colleague described a new software program that simulated this experience while travelling in either direction down the expressway.

    My previous post questioned the sensation of the morning commute, it was an argument based on the mode of conveyance being architecture in itself.  This post, however, is describing the sequence of events that experience architecture, and describing that experience in motion as being architectural in itself.

    The Seattle Monorail travelling through the Music Project Experience
    The Seattle Monorail travelling through the Experience Music Project

    Take the Seattle Alweg Monorail as an example. In itself, the Monorail may be “architecture’, the Monorail in itself has that sort of exuberant giddiness that makes a dreary commute quite special.  Its glassy rail cars take a route from the Seattle Center going Downtown that travel through a succession of differing spaces of differing sizes and scales, a kind of spontaneous architecture.  Recently, the Experience Music Project, designed by Frank Gehry, was built along the Monorail route.  Though the Monorail does not stop at the EMP, it travels through it, as a very conscious architectural experience. The Project is experienced in motion, and it was planned that way.  The motion of taking the Monorail through the EMP becomes a musical experience in itself.  Some believe that travelling through the EMP by Monorail is as important as is the more traditional experience of approach, enter and inhabit while on foot.

    Our cities have individual “nodes” of architectural experience, but fall short of planning the path between the nodes as an architectural experience.  Nothing superlative or the sort the usual arguments that get touted as the reason why an architectural experience can only consist of goobers stuck on a roadway, and that these goobers add another twenty per cent to the cost of a project, making everyone wonder – quite rightfully – why we should pay anything extra to have goobers on our roadways. What I’m advocating is to simply plan and arrange the elements in between to offer an architectural experience while in motion.  We work with spaces that large, just plan them architecturally.

    As an aside – sort of – Chicago is mourning the closure of an amusement park “Kiddieland”, located just beyond the edge of Oak Park.  It had juvenile sized amusement rides, and even some larger attractions.  No one is going to forget the Ferris wheel, the Little Dipper roller coaster, the Scrambler, the log flume, the Tilt-a-Whirl, the Flying Elephants, the antique Carousel and especially not the Kiddieland Express.  No one will forget them because they made motion very amusing.  Even the path these amusement rides took provided a structured sequence of experiences that provided a rudimentary “architecture in motion” experience.  Few people are realizing that this structured sequence is what made Kiddieland so enjoyable, and so memorable.

    Kiddieland: A place with tremendous experiences iof spatial motion approached by a very dreary sequence of spatial experiences
    Kiddieland: A place with tremendous experiences of spatial motion approached by a very dreary sequence of spatial experiences

     Not at all difficult to achieve in our overall built environment.

  • Is your morning commute still fun to drive?

    Time was, driving was a fun recreation.  From a casual Sunday excursion, to a cross country trip, to something energetic like Nascar racing, the experience generated by being catapulted through ever changing scenery was exciting.

    A happy way to commute...
    A happy way to commute…

    Automotive design enhanced the experience. Swooping masses of sheet metal clad in bright colours, outlined in shiny chrome, housed behemoth power plants and sumptuous interiors swathed in deluxe upholstery.

    It was a see and be seen experience.  People actually drove with their windows down, weather permitting.  That morning commute into work just didn’t seem half bad.

    But then, the morning commute was far shorter then than it may be now.  The US Census Bureau has since started to measure the number of “extreme commuters” who spend more than 90 minutes a trip commuting from home to work.  Regardless how fanciful one’s wheels may be, that much time down the same roads in the same traffic day in and day out can’t help but become dreary.

    And dreary may best describe current automotive design. Body styles are generated by current trends in wind tunnel testing; cars are distinguishable only by slight nuances in wrinkles or folds along sheet metal. Grey – or rather, silver – is a popular colour. Interiors offer much the same choice, perhaps with a cloth or leather option; higher priced cars sport two toned colour schemes. 

    Given parameters, powerplants have improved but that may signal the difference in concept. New powerplants exhibit engineering prowess, as does the styling. Styling – for the sake of styling – played a larger role when the morning commute was still fun.

    Imagine the morning commute in this !
    Imagine the morning commute in this !

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Still doesn’t say why we started living ninety minutes away.

  • A Tale of Two Cities – the Skyscraper and the Suburb

    The Frank Lloyd Wright Studio in Oak Park
    The Frank Lloyd Wright Studio in Oak Park

    Oak Park, Illinois is known throughout the world for its revolutionary architecture that defined the American suburb.  From his Oak Park studio on Chicago Avenue, Frank Lloyd Wright and his entourage created the suburban home format on a basic grid-iron layout of streets; they developed an entirely new aesthetic order of clear geometry arranged in abstract compositions that reinforced sensitive spatial hierarchies.  One would think that modern day Oak Park would attract attention as a world-class center of architectural research and innovation, no?

    Chicago, Illinois
    Chicago, Illinois

    Well, Oak Park is located a short, ten mile ride along any one of an assortment of rapid transit, commuter railroad, expressway or surface streets from Chicago. Chicago, a much larger city, is the world class architectural attraction.  Oak Park is just a neighbouring community.  This, despite Frank Lloyd Wright’s practice that attracted world wide attention was located here.  Not to mention that the Twinkie was invented in Oak Park.

    Though the skyscraper was invented and developed in Chicago; its antithesis – the American suburb – is Oak Park. 

    After the Great Fire of 1871, Chicago grew on a clean slate.  Horses were dirty animals to have around in a crowded urban setting, so the chief methods of transportation were walking, and trains.  By walking, one could comfortably walk about half a mile – a kilometer – or so between places.  From house to work, from house to church, and so on.  Each of these destinations attracted a population from within a similar radius.  Eventually, putting all the radii between houses and destinations together, one was faced with a large, seething urban mass that was too large to walk from end to end – certainly during bad weather.   Now, a train could take people from this great urban mass through rural countryside to a station about ten miles (sixteen kilometres) or so to another station where the urban mass could start all over again.  The new urban mass never seemed to attain the same size or prominence as the original city.  This describes Chicago and Oak Park, or River Forest, or Evanston, or Riverside, or Pullman, or… this list goes one.  This is the classic American suburb.

    Once private automobiles began to proliferate, people weren’t bound to travelling from train station to train station.  They could travel from point to point.  They didn’t even need to travel from town to town; they could travel from a point in the countryside to another point in the countryside, giving rise to what we affectionately know today as “sprawl”.  Some cities – like Los Angeles – became of a size after the advent of the automobile, so they academically don’t have suburbs, they only have sprawl.

    There are only a certain few cities in North America that reached this critical mass of size to have classic American suburbs before the proliferation of the automobile brought about a different type of development – Chicago, New York City, Boston, and to an extent Philadelphia, Cleveland and Montreal (being Canadian).

    Garden_City_Concept_by_Howard
    Garden City Concept by Sir Ebenezer Howard

    The British equivalent of the classic American suburb is the Garden City, whose format was developed by Sir Ebenezer Howard.  His model saw a city grow to a certain size, then be surrounded by smaller cities that functioned through “interurbanity”, all connected by railways and separated by farmland.

    Does the Garden City seem anything like the classic American suburb?  It should.  While Sir Ebenezer Howard grew up in Dickens’ era London, a little known fact is that he homesteaded on farmland in eastern Nebraska in 1871 or thereabouts.  Dissatisfied with this, he migrated to Chicago, where his shorthand skills landed him jobs court reporting and reporting for newspapers.  Riverside was being planned and developed at this time – while it’s thought that he knew of it, it’s not thought that he actually visited Riverside.  He undoubtedly knew of, and may have visited, any one of a number of suburban communities surrounding Chicago.  He returned to England in 1876.  His Garden Cities concept is simply modeled after what he happening in Chicago.

    The two extremes of twentieth century architecture – the skyscraper and the suburb – were invented and developed here in the Chicago region.

  • The Running of the Lions in Chicago

    Ernest Hemmingway came from Oak Park; he wrote about the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain.

    I’m wondering about the running of the lions in Chicago….

    DSC00416Here, we have the Lion of the Art Institute of Chicago, guarding the main entrance on Michigan Avenue, Facing Adams Street…

    lionAnd here, we have a lion crafted by Albert Speh named “David”, guarding the front door of a bungalow house in Oak Park…

  • Saturday, in the Park…

    Years ago, the Chicago-born rock group “Chicago” had a sit single “Saturday, in the Park”.  It described what was seemingly an idyllic weekend day in Chicago’s Lincoln Park.  These kinds of days happen all the time in Chicago, witness this last weekend.

    Cloud Gate, otherwise known as 'The Bean"
    Cloud Gate, otherwise known as ‘The Bean”

    Friends from Toronto called the night before.  They had just flown in and hoped to meet up. Their plan was to take a leisurely morning stroll around Graceland Cemetery, completely unknowing about the Chicago Cubs baseball game next door at Wrigley Field, or even the Air and Water Show.  I warned them, and they though that this was unusual.  We agreed to touch base later in the day.

    The Illinois Saint Andrew Society had their wrap up meeting of the Highland Games Committee, over breakfast.  From my vantage point as Chairman of the British Car Show, we talked a lot about the weather, the flooded fields, and the success of the show despite nature’s wrath. 

    The Province of Nova Scotia invited me to attend their private reception at Irish Fest in Milwaukee.  The Nova Scotians are awfully nice folks, even for a prairie kid like me.  Though I really like Nova Scotia, I must admit that I’ve never been there.  My parents were great fans of the CBC television show, “Don Messer’s Jubilee”, broadcast from Halifax, perhaps that counts.  I hope that they’ll invite me back for their reception at Celtic Fest in Chicago.

    More than a million people descended on the lakefront for the Air & Water Show.  I kept thinking back to our visitors from Toronto, who were taking the same el line that those million people would be taking to the show, as well as all the crowds partaking the Cubs game; again, on the same el line.  Game Day at Wrigley is kind of like a giant street party.  Apparently, there’s a baseball game that happens during the party, the throngs are simply out having a good time.

    Heard back from my visitors, they chose to spend the afternoon inside conditioned air at the Art Institute of Chicago.  Good choice. They acknowledged my advice about the crowds at Wrigley.

    It was one of the few dry days we’ve had in a while, and despite everything going on during a typical weekend (wasn’t it Lollapalooza last weekend?) the mundane things never let up.  Yard work and my tomato plants were finally showing signs of ripening.

    Zaha Hadid designed Burnham Pavilion
    Zaha Hadid designed Burnham Pavilion

    We managed to meet up at the Burnham Pavilions at Millennium Park.  Last time I was there was at the dedication reception, coincidentally held during the nasty storm that reeked havoc on the Highland Games. Although the pavilion designed by UN Studio of the Netherlands was complete, the Zaha Hadid pavilion was not.  It was now, and the time to see these pavilions are at night. 

    Crown Fountain at Millenium Park
    Crown Fountain at Millenium Park

    Reynar Banham once described a concept of “the architecture of energy” – not counting every last watt or joule of energy and finding ways to conserve, but rather defining architecture by energy.  The Burnham Pavilions at night – even the rest of Millennium Park – are great examples.   The Bean was shining profusely in the dull light. Both Burnham Pavilions were kaleidoscopic in nature.  The Crown Fountain was alive with shadows of children playfully running through the water on a hot, muggy night.

    The city between the earth and sky
    The city between the earth and sky

    I’m still taken by the UN Studio’s Burnham Pavilion.  Despite being designed in Europe, it’s a very prairie display of the earth and the sky, and the city that grew in between.

  • A River Runs Through It, and the Malibu Supper Club

    I used to fly out of Gallatin Field in Belgrade, Montana quite a bit as a student.  During my terms of office with the American Institute of Architecture Students, Gallatin Field became a regular point of departure / point of entry for trips to the east coast and other points.  My alma mater, Montana State University, is located in Bozeman, Montana, and Bozeman is located at the very end of a broad but contained plain, the Gallatin Valley.  The Bridger Range is at Bozeman’s doorsteps, so the only location flat enough, and with enough flat land on either side to support aircraft approaches is a town several miles away – Belgrade. 

    Belgrade’s a small town, out of a Hollywood western movie.  The Malibu Supper Club used to be there before they had a fire and it burned down.  It had a wooden grain elevator that was a seed cleaning plant and a water tower.  They had a ‘walk up’ style mexican restaurant that served food on plastic plates.

    Gallatin Field was a small airport with tremendous airline connections, the only airport at the time in the Northwest Orient Airlines route system that didn’t have a control tower. One year, the MSU “Fighting Bobcats” football team made it to a national championship of some sort.  The Bobcat Booster Association chartered a DC-10 to fly out of Gallatin Field:  waiting until the wind was blowing in the right direction, it barely made it over the mountains.  The terminal building at Gallatin was a comfortable place; it even had a wood burning fireplace.  Peter Fonda – a local – used to have a morning routine of breakfast at the airport cafeteria where other locals would fly in to partake of the runway view over coffee and huevos rancheros with the Bridger Mountains in back. One night, a group of us came across Mr. Fonda in the airport lounge – the cocktail waitress told us that she was ecstatic having  just served Jeff Bridges, and complimented this fellow (actually Peter Fonda) on his movies.  Perhaps Gallatin Field was the perfect hangout for a Hollywood star wanting to remain anonymous, or at least mistaken for Jeff Bridges.

    Then Hollywood moved to Bozeman, more so after the filming of “The River Runs Through It” by Robert Redford.  Glenn Close’s sister bought the Leaf and Bean Coffee Shop on Main Street in Bozeman; they used to sell a Celestial Seasonings tea blend called “Evening in Missoula” that I never drank. Apparently, the airport terminal was expanded to have a third gate, I haven’t heard if the fireplace, or the cafeteria, or the lounge still exist; it finally has a control tower, however.

    This morning’s edition of the Bozeman Daily Chronicle featured a slideshow presentation of Air Force One – on the tarmac at Gallatin Field!  The television networks were abuzz with a Town Hall meeting held inside a hanger – a hanger probably meant for Piper Cubs, maybe the occasional Lear Jet, but not Air Force One.

    It seemed like the end of the age of innocence.  After this event, it’s quite doubtful that Peter Fonda – or anyone else from Hollywood living near the Gallatin Valley in Montana – could ever frequent the airport ever again and be mistaken for Jeff Bridges.

  • More Walls Talking – Vacant Storefronts

    Vacant Storefront for Rent
    Vacant Storefront for Rent

    The current economic doldrums have brought out all sorts of vacant storefronts – not just a tell tale of the economy, but a fascinating take on urban anthropology.

    At first glance, they would indicate that the economy is down, that the activity that previously existed at that location fell victim to a recession.  Any retail leasing agent would be quick to point out that marginal locations die first, and that the economy is really in bad shape if the vacant storefronts syndrome were to hit the more sought after locations and properties.

    At a deeper investigation, one may wonder if the types of commercial activity that went on in any given vacant storefront is sustainable economically, and if things picked up, would this type of activity resurface?

    The concept of selling goods changes presentation and architectural trappings often.  In North America, we’ve seen a progression of:

                Open Air Markets

                General Stores

                Specialty Stores

                Department Stores

                Stores arranged along a main street, accessible on foot

                Stores arranged along commercial highway strips, accessible by car

                Open-air shopping plazas, approached by car, then accessed on foot

                Mall-ified pedestrian street, which closed a street to all but pedestrian   traffic, to  recreate the open-air shopping plaza concept in an urban setting

                Climate controlled, enclosed shopping mall in a suburban setting, with anchor tenants (usually department stores), approached by car but accessed on foot, where every day is always a pleasant 72° Fahrenheit (20° Celsius) regardless if it’s winter or summer

    Midtown Plaza, Rochester, NY
    Midtown Plaza, Rochester, NY

    The climate controlled enclosed shopping mall even saw an urban version, closing off streets and creating“superblocks” with inward focuses.  While the classic examples may be Eaton Center in Toronto, the Galleria in Philadelphia or even the ZCMI Center in Salt Lake City; a more iconic version may be Rochester’s Midtown Plaza.  Opened in 1963, it virtually recreated a controlled suburban environment in an urban setting, complete with a promotional “courtyard” featuring the “Clock of the Nations” that commemorated one of twelve different countries every hour and an elevated “kiddie monorail” made by the Louden Machinery Company of Fairfield, Iowa – also found in department stores like Kresge in Newark, NJ, Sears on State Street in Chicago and the Meier and Frank Department Store in Portland, Oregon.  (Let’s save the kiddie monorails for another entry, I do write about transportation devices from time to time)

    And I’m not even touching on further developments like festival markets (Faneuil Hall in Boston, the Inner Harbor in Baltimore), power centers (name your suburb) and big box retailers (even real cities are clamouring to get big box retailers).

    Who knows what the next step will be.  Web based e-commerce seems to be picking up, but my guess is that retail – as in going out and shopping – is too much of a social event to be relegated to a computer screen. 

     The bigger question is something like, who knows what will happen to all this vacant space, and what sort of impact will this redevelopment have on the visual image of our cities…

  • Roadside Oddities in Central Illinois

    There is a certain stretch of Interstate 55 leading out of Chicago that is simply a nasty stretch of road, everyone drives like madmen.  Before the television show made the term famous.  And there’s lots of them.  A peaceful way to avoid this is to take Old Route 66, this stretch being identified as Illinois Route 53.

    Some years ago, I had the adventure of actually driving the entire length of Route 66, from Los Angeles to Chicago.  My brain kept ringing the Nat King Cole tune “go through St. Louis, Joplin Missouri, and Oklahoma City looks mighty pretty…” .

    Central Illinois has its share of oddities, though they are different than what I’ve encountered elsewhere..  Nothing like the “throw your trash into Orbit” roadside trash bins in Manitoba, with approaching signage timed to 100 km/h, or even the sign outside the CHAT Radio transmitter on the Trans Canada Highway in Medicine Hat that pronounced “10,000 persuasive watts” that had my mind in childhood fearful of these 10,000 critters roaming around, persuading people.

    Giant Gemini - note the electrical wiring in back
    Giant Gemini – note the electrical wiring in back

    “Giant Gemini” at the Launching Pad Restaurant in Wilmington, Illinois is a good example.  Although there have never been any rockets (that I know of) launched from anyplace close to Wilmington, this concrete and sheet metal aberration – complete with its own electrical transformer so that the face inside the helmet can light up at night.

     

     

     

     

    Signage as architecture - and vice versa
    Signage as architecture – and vice versa

    My favourite is the Java Stop coffee stand in Dwight, Illinois.  A creative reuse of two metal freight containers, this is a visible piece of pop art visible for miles around.  Too bad that it recently closed; I hope that it finds a new owner soon.

  • Cars with Lots of Real Estate

    A friend wrote in reply of my 4 July 2009 post “Big People. Little Cars. Tiny Houses. The Scale of our Neighbourhoods”, which spoke of our neighbourhoods being sized around our mode of personal transportation which, in modern day North America, tends to be our cars.  To quote Alex:

                    “There are a couple of arguments against the move to smaller-more-sustainable automobiles in particular.  I’ll coin it “larger-and-more-survivable”.

                    Not that I have anything against the cute and vulnerable Cooper Mini nor it’s reincarnation, the 21st Century BMW Mini, it’s just that with the striking deterioration of our public highways, a larger  vehicle with adequate ground clearance is soon to become an advantage.  By the way, it strikes me that the sudden downfall of public infrastructure is very much mirrored by the downfall of print media.  I have a hard time seeing my younger nephews and nieces with their passels of kinder and requisite accoutrements actually fitting into the current generation of mini-vehicles.  Indeed, with three or more small children in a vehicle, your old Mini Clubman just couldn’t hold the child seats, let alone the toys, diaper bags, etc that – at least – the younger generation of my family is saddled with.  I don’t think that your Mini could even hold an SUV – Stroller Utility Vehicle!”

    I’ve always maintained that we design our neighbourhoods around our cars.  More succinctly, we design our neighbourhoods around the prevalent mode of personal transportation.  We always have – for the longest of times, that mode was on foot – walking.  Not until the Machine Age / Post Machine Age has transportation become so notable in our neighbourhoods, because the type of transportation we’ve invented is so different than what we as humans are capable of on our own. 

    The type of neighbourhood that I live in was built around people walking to a rapid transit or commuter train station, so the buildings and landscape look the way they do to reflect this. Since then and quite suddenly, we’ve built entire cities around the automobile – the prevalent method of personal transportation currently used in North America.  Not only would it be difficult to “retrofit” an automobile neighbourhood to be function “walkably”, but trying to get around one of these automobile neighbourhoods by another method becomes challenging, if not dangerous.  I know of someone who drives a perfectly restored 1969 Fiat 500 with a bumper sticker that reads “…my other car is a race car…”; he drives it on the expressways of Chicago fearlessly, leaving everyone breathless.  The rest of us could never achieve this talent without intense professional training!

    So becomes the quandary of dodging potholes and 18 wheelers at high speeds.  Part of the format of automobile oriented development is to have an abundance of supply of transportation routes.  Abundant infrastructure becomes very expensive to maintain properly.

    Personal. mobile spaces within a larger, very public space, both quite falmbouyant - "Superdawg", Chicago IL
    Personal. mobile spaces within a larger, very public space, both quite flambouyant – "Superdawg", Chicago IL

    Now, I do have this thing about the automobile and its allure.  As architecture, automobiles are highly sculptural, display the personality and identity of their owners.  Automobiles are not just personal spaces with their own environmental hierarchies and transitions, but they are personal space that moves, taking its occupants from place to place while experiencing the space within, and the spaces outside – in motion, in sequence no less.  It’s a very contemporary, Machine Age experience – quite exhilarating, since it removes mankind from the need to have ties to the earth. 

    Although Frank Lloyd Wright was apparently an automobile enthusiast.  Oddly, this notion of automobile as architecture goes against his philosophy of architecture being part of the earth.  Two very exciting, diametrically opposed concepts.

  • Traditional Media vs Social Media, and it’s Similarity to Urban vs Suburban Design

    The recent passing of Walter Cronkite and the commemoration of the Apollo 11 lunar landing spawned much commentary about how as a culture, we’ve lost not just trusted voice and a collective goal, even the ability to dream. There are many indicators supporting this notion, even some directly related to the design of our cities.

    I recall a physics professor describing the theory of entropy.  No matter how hard we may try to bring about order, things will always fall into disorder.  An evenly manicured lawn will grow into an unkempt shag. A machine in good upkeep will fall into disrepair if left untended.  And on.

    While twentieth century media grew during the course of that era, it remained strong and focused.  It was “ordered”.  Print media – newspapers – were the first “gold” standard of reporting.  Granted, there were “yellow” tabloids, they quickly gained an unsavory reputation.  Publications with good reputations survived and grew.  Radio came along, giving “live” presentations from a world away while they happened.  Radio stations combining into broadcast networks emerged in order to pool the resources necessary that would allow news from a world away to find its way into our homes.  Television came, doing much the same as radio but with images.  In the States, there were three major broadcast networks.  They took their responsibilities seriously, delivering impartial reporting.

    Three networks worked to produce a collective, national consciousness.  They had untold influence on society, in many untold ways. A society’s sense of taste is a good example.  When I was the Managing Editor of CRIT Magazine, a story crossed my desk by a student who noted the cultural influences of television. 

    Note the sunken living room on the Dick Van Dyke Show stage set
    Note the sunken living room on the Dick Van Dyke Show stage set

    His theory was that we never had “island kitchens” or “sunken living rooms” prior to the Dick van Dyke Show.  Here, the stage set was arranged along a line to facilitate television cameras and an in-studio audience sitting on bleachers.  The stage set portrayed a house arranged linearly for the audience and cameras to see, with bedrooms opening off either side of a living room, and with a kitchen in the middle. One would never build a real house that way.  The front door leading from outside into the living was on a level slightly higher than the living room, so that the audience could see overtop anyone in the living room and focus on who was at the door.  Thus came the image of a sunken living room.  Likewise, Mary Tyler Moore was forever chopping vegetables in the kitchen while speaking her lines.  She had to talk to the audience, not to a wall, and so was born the “island kitchen”. Her on screen portrayal of Mrs. Petrie promoted it to be quite acceptable to peel potatoes as part of dinner party entertainment – a concept previously unacceptable, or even unknown.  So, a small number of media outlets wielded tremendous cultural influences.

    Initially, three national networks seemed to work well. But they only had so much advertising space to sell to a rapidly expanding economy.  Enter cable television, and the law of entropy.  More media outlets, more choice, less uniformity of direction.  One could easily argue, more quantity, less quality.  In a very disparaging description, Bruce Springsteen wrote a song entitled “Fifty Seven Channels and Nothing On”.

    Society has gone beyond cable television, or even any other of the twentieth century media models. 

    Nissan Canada, in wanting to promote its new vehicle, the “cube”, held a contest publicized only on social media – Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, its website “hypercube.ca” , and the like.  They gave away fifty Nissan cubes during an extended talent contest broadcast only on social media, indicating that they anticipated tremendous target-market exposure from social media. 

    Traditional, twentieth century media was organized around funneling a large amount of information to a few sources.  This new social media takes an enormous amount of information and distributes it in many directions to people directly.

    But, culture imitates art.

    In the late nineteenth century, there was an accepted growth model of US cities, which became the advent of the original American suburb.  It was built around controlled, major transportation – public transit – that delivered people to a specific point, supported by a much smaller scaled “scatter pattern” of individual transportation – walking.  Mechanized, mass transit and walking were two very different means of transportation, and urban planning took on a very controlled appearance.  Much like news delivered by three major television networks. 

    Sir Ebenezer Howard's Garden City Concept
    Sir Ebenezer Howard’s Garden City Concept

    Sir Ebenezer Howard’s concept of the “Garden City” describes this urban development model.  Here, clearly definable and ordered urban areas are contained and built around mass transit stations; and separated by greenbelts of more rural areas.  Enter the law of entropy, and the invention of a “middle ground” of transportation – individual yet mechanized – the automobile.  The automobile introduced “point to point” transportation, which allowed the previously rural areas between towns to be developed into what we know these days as ‘sprawl”.

    In city planning, while there is a movement back to what’s known as “transit oriented development”, it’s all predicated on removing the automobile as a means of mass transit.

    1975 Lancia Fulvia
    1975 Lancia Fulvia

    In as much as automobiles are much like suburban buildings – works of art on their own without context – I hope we can keep them around as museum pieces, at least…