Tuesday, 20 March 2018

Rising from the Ashes of High Rise






Yesterday I visited the Laurieston Living Development on a site visit with my Macintosh School urban design students on a fieldtrip very kindly hosted by Stallan Brand Architecture. As a compliment to my article on the potential end of high-rise living in Scotland of a few months ago, I would offer some reflection on what can rise up from the ashes of such schemes.


As my research in Glasgow in recent months has evidenced, there is a real sense of having been 'done to' by planners, on behalf of some of the communities that bore the brunt of the City's comprehensive redevelopment in the postwar years. This finds one of its strongest spatial expressions in Laurieston, where the 23 storey Norfolk Court blocks, demolished in 2010 and 2016, were a concrete example of the loss of the area's dense morphology of modest spaces defined by buildings in favour of a landscape of monumental buildings in space.


As a planner today, I am often torn between my respect for the zeal of practitioners of the postwar years, in attempting to create what they saw as a new form of space and society, and the failings of these visons in the hard, real world. Carmona et al. in their 'Public Places, Urban Spaces' book, a core text of my course define an ‘artistic’ tradition of planning and urban design. While it is not hard to see this in the concern for form, geometry and truth to materials particularly characteristic of professional attitudes at this time, I believe the analogy runs deeper.


Postwar planners and designers, backed up by the government drive for housing and rebuilding were very much therefore, assuming the role of the Old Master. The buildings and spaces resulting were certainly highly provocative, expressive and innovative: certainly worthy of appreciation in a gallery or architect’s journal. As such, we have the likes of Sir Basil Spence’s 'great ship' of the Gorbals and Geoffrey Copcutt’s “machine for living” in Cumbernauld as key exhibits. But what of the voice for those who then had to live their lives within these bold statements?


The ‘social’ tradition and those of ‘place making’ and ‘sustainable urbanism’ that followed I feel, challenge the practitioner to assume more of the role of a performance artist: reacting to both the environment in which their work takes place and the ever-changing demands of their ‘public’. In Laurieston, from the ashes of one tradition and its attendant morphology, comes fresh development and designs aimed at reintegrating this part of the City with its neighbouring locales. My liberal use of inverted commas above hints that the path to implementation of these ideals is not an easy one. However, it is always one that as professionals, whether student or in-practice, we should approach from a firm appreciation of context: both on site and in the hearts and minds of local people.





Image © Copyright Thomas Nugent and licensed for reuse under the Creative Commons Licence.





Wednesday, 14 February 2018

Keeping the 'Big Players' Round the Table?




My latest reflections on charrettes on this blog have been given impetus by an excellent recent article by Nick Wright, drawing on the experiences of Niall Murphy of Pollockshields Community Council. Both argue that the key challenges in the charrette process extend beyond the events themselves, asking important questions about what happens to deliver the vision and projects arrived at. In particular, the buy in of the local council is a crucial one.

While the days of local authorities having millions to spend on supporting local regeneration and other place shaping initiatives are likely a thing of the (distant?) past, many community groups are well equipped to drive charrette outcomes forward on  their own initiative at the local level. In this respect, some of the most recent practice based research into charrettes and other co design processes points to the imperative that the community takes ownership of this delivery phase. However, 'community' as defined here, is not necessarily restricted to individuals and organisations, but also to local networks and partnerships.

As some of my previous articles have referred to, partnership has become an increasingly more uncertain term in the lexicon of planning and regeneration. Perhaps the most powerful such organisations,  the Urban Regeneration Companies, with the exception of Clyde Gateway have now been wound up. However, it could be argued what is the purpose of a charrette if not create a new vision and partnership for how a local place will grow? In any partnership however, there are 'Big Players' that hold the resources necessary to effect change. Amongst these players, the support of the Council is still crucial, even if this is only in the form of a commitment to recognise the outcomes in policy. Yet, as the experience in Pollockshields attests to, securing such a commitment is not a process which always moves quickly.

These potential difficulties are of even more relevance given the Planning (Scotland) Bill, introduced to Parliament in December. The bill tables the ability for communities to create their own 'local place plans', of which the overarching local development planning process must take account. If these are to avoid frustration and disappointment on behalf of local people, the procedures by which LPP's and LDP's relate to each other must be clearly set out in any Secondary legislation following from the Bill. A spirit of partnership is after all, only as strong as the assurances on behalf of all the partners that they will pull together in reaching for their goals.