So I’m a little late to the Brooklyn waterfront redevelopment – are you surprised at all? – controversy. I was vaguely aware that some feathers were ruffled when private housing was abruptly introduced, but the usual practice of too abbreviated representations (have developers and architects figured out yet that this Interweb thingee can freely distribute all sorts of images and plans?) and the seeming inevitable opposition by aggrieved residents did not hold my interest.
Being near the Architectural League last week with an hour to kill, I stopped in to see the presentation of the site model, renderings and planning diagrams (and, sorry, it just closed). Wanting to do a little background research leads me to conclude that the while there were some strong elements, both as presentation and design solution, I’d say that it did not ‘teach the controversy’ very effectively.
I’m not adequately steeped in the past five years of planning – my knowledge is culled from the impressive archives of The Brooklyn Paper (who are so disapproving of the project that then only refer to the ‘park’ in air quotes), but if they are to be trusted, the short version is:
The park, like the now stalled Husdon Yards, is being developed by a public-private corporation (the Brooklyn Bridge Park Development Corporation – BBDPC). As such, it only needs state approval (meaning no ULURP). Therefore, many of the mechanisms that provide the opportunity for community feedback (or as some might choose to characterize it, interference), such as Community Board and City Planning Commission reviews, are not required.
Strategic direction was set after a series of community workshops and the like back in 2000. In late 2004, the BBDPC started holding quiet, semi-private meetings that unveiled a revamped concept which included for the first time private residential structures and a hotel. Since then, things have been rather ugly, including a session where van Valkenberg screamed at members of the public, renderings that misrepresented the size of the proposed new buildings, and all manner of high-handedness on the part of the BBDPC. The rationale for the residential towers was that the park need be self-supporting financially, and this is the only viable means. That, and the thin argument that the buildings would aid in sound attenuation
The presentation at Urban Center focused on the approved plan. Barring legal challenges, it would seem that before the end of the decade, the new vision for the Brooklyn waterfront will be realized. That vision is quite firmly rooted in the late twentieth century notion of urban park space: highly regimented program space for structuring the lives of over-managed children and fitness-crazed adults. And this is after a ‘Chelsea Piers-style’ activity center was scrapped. Oh, and a marina, because everyone in Clinton Hill has been itching for slips for years. The best thing about this sap to the bonus-bulging pockets of the Maserati and Cristal set is that it is not slated to produce any revenue for the park. That’s right, a subsidized marina (the stated explanation is that they aren’t certain someone will step forward to develop it; what isn’t clear is if this is the only way it will go forward).
The presentation does an excellent job of laying out the contextual conditions and limitations, and is the most comprehensive element. One senses that it was perhaps the last time that rational thought was the keystone for the thinking. Addressing the multiple challenges the site presented (noise, inadequate structural stability of some of the piers), it lays out a credible argument for the major schematic elements.
After that, the murky shoals of politics and money are not so well documented. One omission was a pedestrian connector to Montague Street, to which the head of the BBDPC and van Valkenberg gave differing rationales (he was quote as cutting off her budget constraint line with a more blunt observation that is was never pursued as a program priority). Why the buildings are sited as they are, or if other economic models were proposed (one discarded option was a big box store development) aren’t represented. Granted, this is a final model, but since the early stage planning was so carefully documented, there seems to be no reason not to incorporate the thinking behind the evolution.
The location of the new buildings and their bulk are not drastic in the model, though if you want to emphasize scale, you do ground level perspectives, and if you want de-emphasize it, you do a model. There are no contextual renderings of the residential buildings, so how this is spun in obvious. The model also omits the most important contextual element, which is the Promenade and the first line of structures immediately adjacent, which would give the best indicator of whether or not scenic view obstruction is a real concern.
The largest building, at the foot of Atlantic Avenue, struck me as a non-issue. Much was made of the opportunity lost for an grand entrance, but unless it connects to a different Atlantic Avenue, I’m not sure why this is so appealing. The Montague connector makes far more sense, since pedestrian approaches from the Heights would make more logical sense here.
The complaints that this unexpected revision will turn the park into a front yard for the wealthy have a ring of truth. But is it also true that people who live immediately proximate to public amenities tend to treat them (or try to) like private fiefdoms. After all, it’s not like the Kramdens are living on the Promenade.
What should be closely guarded against is the structure of the private corporation running the park and how its uses are regulated. Whereas Battery Park City never strikes me as overly exclusionary, I also am its target demographic. The charge that Dead End Kids won’t be able to gather to spontaneously partake in stickball is as antiquated as the notion that kids are able to do this anywhere. Finding play space for a pickup game of anything is not frustration limited to the green spaces adjoining the quarters of the rich.
The renderings fall victim to the High Line Disease, wherein we have really clever clip art of people pasted to green space, everyone looking appropriately ubran chic and happy, but aside from screaming “look how green” they don’t actually explain much. Few architectural details are evident. One of the compelling successes of the Hudson River Park is the simple and effective railing system that has occasional nodes that break up the pathway visually without inhibiting easy passage. No such representations are evident here. I can assume they are forthcoming, and I expect that sort of gripe only comes from certain quarters (such as this one), but it left me thinking not enough consideration had been given to details.
The most effective image, in terms of programming that really is inspiring, and provides a good sense of before and after, is that of ice skating under the Brooklyn Bridge. Currently, most of the area is closed off, a mixture of some DOT looking sheds and post 9/11 paranoia fencing. Which leads me to ask — is there any chance of this being realized?
Having done my research post hoc, I do wish I had seen the presentation in late January. Given how much work is yet to be done, and knowing that depending on public condemns one to erring on the side of diplomatic, my sense is that this process has been lengthy, frustrating, and more disappointing than not. That doesn’t mean the result can’t be a warm and welcome addition to our waterfront. But the process to date seems to indicate that nothing is sacrosanct, and new compromises lurk behind every corner.
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Not enough trees grow in Brooklyn.
So I’m a little late to the Brooklyn waterfront redevelopment – are you surprised at all? – controversy. I was vaguely aware that some feathers were ruffled when private housing was abruptly introduced, but the usual practice of too abbreviated representations (have developers and architects figured out yet that this Interweb thingee can freely distribute all sorts of images and plans?) and the seeming inevitable opposition by aggrieved residents did not hold my interest.
Being near the Architectural League last week with an hour to kill, I stopped in to see the presentation of the site model, renderings and planning diagrams (and, sorry, it just closed). Wanting to do a little background research leads me to conclude that the while there were some strong elements, both as presentation and design solution, I’d say that it did not ‘teach the controversy’ very effectively. I’m not adequately steeped in the past five years of planning – my knowledge is culled from the impressive archives of The Brooklyn Paper (who are so disapproving of the project that then only refer to the ‘park’ in air quotes), but if they are to be trusted, the short version is: The park, like the now stalled Husdon Yards, is being developed by a public-private corporation (the Brooklyn Bridge Park Development Corporation – BBDPC). As such, it only needs state approval (meaning no ULURP). Therefore, many of the mechanisms that provide the opportunity for community feedback (or as some might choose to characterize it, interference), such as Community Board and City Planning Commission reviews, are not required. Strategic direction was set after a series of community workshops and the like back in 2000. In late 2004, the BBDPC started holding quiet, semi-private meetings that unveiled a revamped concept which included for the first time private residential structures and a hotel. Since then, things have been rather ugly, including a session where van Valkenberg screamed at members of the public, renderings that misrepresented the size of the proposed new buildings, and all manner of high-handedness on the part of the BBDPC. The rationale for the residential towers was that the park need be self-supporting financially, and this is the only viable means. That, and the thin argument that the buildings would aid in sound attenuation The presentation at Urban Center focused on the approved plan. Barring legal challenges, it would seem that before the end of the decade, the new vision for the Brooklyn waterfront will be realized. That vision is quite firmly rooted in the late twentieth century notion of urban park space: highly regimented program space for structuring the lives of over-managed children and fitness-crazed adults. And this is after a ‘Chelsea Piers-style’ activity center was scrapped. Oh, and a marina, because everyone in Clinton Hill has been itching for slips for years. The best thing about this sap to the bonus-bulging pockets of the Maserati and Cristal set is that it is not slated to produce any revenue for the park. That’s right, a subsidized marina (the stated explanation is that they aren’t certain someone will step forward to develop it; what isn’t clear is if this is the only way it will go forward). The presentation does an excellent job of laying out the contextual conditions and limitations, and is the most comprehensive element. One senses that it was perhaps the last time that rational thought was the keystone for the thinking. Addressing the multiple challenges the site presented (noise, inadequate structural stability of some of the piers), it lays out a credible argument for the major schematic elements. After that, the murky shoals of politics and money are not so well documented. One omission was a pedestrian connector to Montague Street, to which the head of the BBDPC and van Valkenberg gave differing rationales (he was quote as cutting off her budget constraint line with a more blunt observation that is was never pursued as a program priority). Why the buildings are sited as they are, or if other economic models were proposed (one discarded option was a big box store development) aren’t represented. Granted, this is a final model, but since the early stage planning was so carefully documented, there seems to be no reason not to incorporate the thinking behind the evolution. The location of the new buildings and their bulk are not drastic in the model, though if you want to emphasize scale, you do ground level perspectives, and if you want de-emphasize it, you do a model. There are no contextual renderings of the residential buildings, so how this is spun in obvious. The model also omits the most important contextual element, which is the Promenade and the first line of structures immediately adjacent, which would give the best indicator of whether or not scenic view obstruction is a real concern. The largest building, at the foot of Atlantic Avenue, struck me as a non-issue. Much was made of the opportunity lost for an grand entrance, but unless it connects to a different Atlantic Avenue, I’m not sure why this is so appealing. The Montague connector makes far more sense, since pedestrian approaches from the Heights would make more logical sense here. The complaints that this unexpected revision will turn the park into a front yard for the wealthy have a ring of truth. But is it also true that people who live immediately proximate to public amenities tend to treat them (or try to) like private fiefdoms. After all, it’s not like the Kramdens are living on the Promenade. What should be closely guarded against is the structure of the private corporation running the park and how its uses are regulated. Whereas Battery Park City never strikes me as overly exclusionary, I also am its target demographic. The charge that Dead End Kids won’t be able to gather to spontaneously partake in stickball is as antiquated as the notion that kids are able to do this anywhere. Finding play space for a pickup game of anything is not frustration limited to the green spaces adjoining the quarters of the rich. The renderings fall victim to the High Line Disease, wherein we have really clever clip art of people pasted to green space, everyone looking appropriately ubran chic and happy, but aside from screaming “look how green” they don’t actually explain much. Few architectural details are evident. One of the compelling successes of the Hudson River Park is the simple and effective railing system that has occasional nodes that break up the pathway visually without inhibiting easy passage. No such representations are evident here. I can assume they are forthcoming, and I expect that sort of gripe only comes from certain quarters (such as this one), but it left me thinking not enough consideration had been given to details. The most effective image, in terms of programming that really is inspiring, and provides a good sense of before and after, is that of ice skating under the Brooklyn Bridge. Currently, most of the area is closed off, a mixture of some DOT looking sheds and post 9/11 paranoia fencing. Which leads me to ask — is there any chance of this being realized? Having done my research post hoc, I do wish I had seen the presentation in late January. Given how much work is yet to be done, and knowing that depending on public condemns one to erring on the side of diplomatic, my sense is that this process has been lengthy, frustrating, and more disappointing than not. That doesn’t mean the result can’t be a warm and welcome addition to our waterfront. But the process to date seems to indicate that nothing is sacrosanct, and new compromises lurk behind every corner.