Urbanter

The 15-M Strikes Close to Home

It wasn't until this week that I realized that I am actually studying in the birthplace of the movement that, in addition to the Arab Spring, was a precursor to Occupy Wallstreet. El Movimiento 15-M, as it is called here in Spain, began a year ago Tuesday, on May 15th, 2011 in response to the economic crisis that Spain is still facing. The citizen-led movement advocates for participative politics and reduced dominance of banks and corporations, offering several proposals including reforming their electoral process and assisting with debt and bankruptcy. The protestors are called los indignados, or the indignant, and like Occupy Wallstreet, they cut across class, race, and age boundaries.

The leftist movement flared back up again this weekend as the one year anniversary was approaching and Spain's economy had reached new lows, with unemployment up to 24% at a record high of 5.6 million, which has only gotten worse since the country's debt was downgraded last month. This last weekend was also Madrid's first weekend of real heat, too, so countless people were out on the streets at night. Coinciding with San Isidro Day, a holiday dedicated to Madrid's patron saint, May 15th and the days leading up to it were dominated by the voice of the people. The night of May 14th, I saw the protests in Puerta del Sol, the "kilometer zero" of the city, which was completely filled with workers, students, unemployed people, and journalists. When I walked back several hours later, the plaza was surrounded by dozens of police vans and policemen in riot gear, getting ready to disperse the gathering. 

The following night, the protesters ventured away from Puerta del Sol, reaching the stock exchange, city hall, and blocking Plaza de Cibeles, the main point of bus departures in the center of the city. Encounters with the police were surprisingly peaceful, though, as both the government and 15-M protesters want to distance themselves from the civil unrest in Greece. Advocates of the movement see it as representative of the people as a whole, explaining that everyone comes for their own reason and the only ones who aren't affected by the issues for which they are seeking reform are those with "their hand in the cake."

Posted by Anna Ponting 

The Urban Park (Part 2)

The Bahai Faith is a monotheistic religion emphasizing the spirtual unity of all humanity, while maintaining a harmony with nature. This religion only has 5-6 million followers within more than 200 countries and territories world wide. Originally created in the late 19th Century in Iran, it was soon percieved as a threat to Shi'ite Islam and banned. The Bahai people, while largely concentrated in Iran, have now immigrated and created large communities throughout the world. The Bahai faith preaches service, meditation, and accepting others.

But why discuss a religion in such detail on the Urban Studies blog? In order to achieve their outlines goals, the Bahai people create luxurious temples on each continent—but not in the traditional sense of a temple. Their temples are simply elaborate no-cost-admission urban parks, which invite all to stroll through on a contemplative afternoon. They include terraces, temples, event areas, rooms, and of course flora.

In today's second installment of The Urban Park, I will be looking at the Bahai Gardens in Haifa, Israel. These giants, lavish parks are in my hometown of Haifa, Israel. I have had the pleasure and opportunity to visit them. Astounding in their design, these terraces serve as a beautiful model for urban parks throughout the world. 

The Bahai Gardens, formally known as the Bahai World Centre, serve as the largest meeting spot worldwide for Bahai. This center houses the Shrine of Bab, the Seat of the Universal House of Justice, the Centre for the Study of the Sacred Texts, and the Seat of the International Teaching Centre, which were completed in 1909, 1982, 1999 and 2000 respectively. This massive monument to the Bahai faith attracts both local and international tourists and is a Haifa must-see.

These gardens, located in the heart of Haifa, are comprised of nineteen staircase terraces extending all the way up the northern slope of Mount Carmel. The golden-domed Shrine of the Bab, the resting place of the Prophet-Herald of the Bahai Faith, stands on the central terrace, and looks across the bay towards Akko. While different parts of the gardens offer a variety of experiences, they speak a common language of graveled paths, hedges and flowerbeds groomed and nurtured by dedicated gardeners. One could argue that these gardens may be overly manicured, and do not reflect a natural display. While this is true, their overall design is astoundingly smart—paths leading to views, flower colors accenting buildings, and bushes hiding eyesores from below. The gardens frame panoramic views of the city, the Galilee Hills and the Mediterranean Sea. While these views alone are stunning, coupled with the plethora of both natural and urban beauty, the Bahai Gardens are truly monumental design achievements.

Posted by Ma'ayan Dembo 

The Original High Line

This past weekend I took a day trip to Lucca, a small city about an hour northwest of Florence, Italy. The city’s history is visible everywhere and legible even to an uninformed outsider. The shape of the ancient Roman amphitheater has been maintained in the shops and homes that ring the central square, the meticulously-planned Roman street grid is preserved in sharp contrast to the surrounding rabbit warren, and the medieval defensive walls, Lucca’s claim to fame, are 100% in tact and crucial to the city’s functioning as a tourist destination.

For me, however, the walls were a spectacle because they were not simply an historical vestige, but a functioning part of the modern city. In 1818, during Napoleon’s occupation, the walls (12 curtains and 11 bastions) were converted into a distinctly stunning urban park that runs the parameter of the city.  City planning is a product of zeitgeist, and much like fashion, cuisine, architecture, and music, trends are revived and recycled with each new generation.  As I biked atop the walls on a well-maintained recreational path, I was reminded of more recent urban repurposing projects—Lucca’s Parco del Muro (Wall Park) is the predecessor of New York’s High Line, San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf, and Seattle’s Pike Place Market. 

Each of these projects required a willingness to think outside the box (a railway became a park, a port became a community market, etc.) as well as a conscious decision to preserve history in the urban landscape. Records from the post-Renaissance era, in fact, prove that there was a conscious effort to restore and modernize rather than raze and rebuild. This mindset was absent during the post-war boom and obsession with progress, but thankfully has been restored to modern planning conscience.     

Posted by Taylor McAdam 

Conceptions of Poverty

Over the past five days, I walked the final 110 kilometers of the Camino de Santiago, an ancient pilgrimage route starting in various European countries and ending in Santiago de Compostela, where the remains of the Apostle James (Santiago in Spanish) are said to be. The journey provided much time for reflection, and one of my recurring thoughts was about the level of poverty that these rural Galician villages are defined by. These villages dot the countryside and rarely have more than 50 inhabitants, by my estimation. I am particularly interested in the lifestyle of this region of Spain because I have several great-grandparents who were born in Galicia, but more than anything I was struck by the normalcy of poverty. A recent statistic states that over half of Galicia falls into Spain's lowest levels of poverty.

Not only are many structures completely abandoned and overgrown by weeds, but there is no municipal authority attempting to do anything. Coming from a state that is hyper-conscious about its real estate, it was strange to think that these houses, lying on Galicia's most important tourist route, would be left unattended. Homes that would surely be condemned in the United States or more urban parts of Spain are the norm, and many backyards look like junkyards, piled high with old cars, mattresses, appliances, and weeds. As we walked west towards Santiago de Compostela, the region's coastal prosperity became more aparent. Galicia's wealth is very heterogeneous, with western cities like Vigo and Santiago dominating the economy while the more rural eastern towns continue as they have for hundreds of years, working difficult terrain and raising livestock. 

But just because these homes are not protected by double-paned glass, decorated with crown molding, or covered by tiled rooves does not mean that their inhabitants are not happy. I witnessed a truly simple lifestyle that was different in every way from the bustling city life I have seen in Madrid, Barcelona, and Sevilla. It is easy to judge the life of these people and question why they remain there, but it is also the site of an incredibly vibrant and unique culture. Galicians speak Gallego, and like many of the autonomous regions in Spain, are fiercely proud of their culture and its individuality. While not rich in money, Galicia is incomparable in its landscape, and the beauty of rural life was accentuated even more by our shivering bodies, growling stomachs, and pained feet. 

My journey was able to show me concrete things, like how accelerated the changes between urban and rural are becoming, whether in terms of access to technology, communication, or goods. My walk, however, as long as it was, could not possibly teach me how Galicians live and how their apparent level of poverty changes their quality of life.

Posted by Anna Ponting 

San Francisco's Population in Real Time

(download)

Click here to download:

foursquare_wsj.mov (5.5 MB)

I couldn't get over the cool slideshow they created with hourly data--San Francisco's is above.  If we set aside the fact that these data are skewed to a certain segment of the population (namely a young, technologically savvy demographic), it's incredible to see where the population goes at which hours of the day, and to watch the city slumber each night and awaken each day.  There's a wonderous quality that comes with being unable to disaggregate the city into its individual organisms and seeing it (as a whole) as a singluar organism.

I wonder how the map would differ one year later.  Or five, ten, twenty years from now.

You can see both New York's and San Francisco's heat maps here, along with comparative statistics for each city.

Posted by Gerad Hanono 

City DNA

What does a city look like when it is reduced to its most basic forms? Lu Xinjian, an artist based in Shanghai, has spent the last 3 years making art out of satellite images from cities taken from Google Earth. He reduces urban settlement patterns to squares, lines, circles, dots, curves.

I was excited to see four of the cities that I know best, New York, San Francisco, Beijing, and Moscow.

New York (2010)

San Francisco (2011)

Beijing (2010)

Moscow (2010)

I was pleased to see that Lu was able to capture the bustling activity framed by the urban grid of New York City, the disrupting curvature of freeways in San Francisco, the hidden alleyways and nooks and crannies of central Beijing, and the medieval rings of Muscovy. Whenever we walk through a city, we are only able to see the next street in front of us; does it become a different place when you can see the whole thing with one fell swoop? Lu's paintings begin to translate the sensation of the immediate sights, smells, and sounds of a city into an entire landscape. They're synecdoches.

But on the other hand, a city is a million different experiences. Does distilling it to shapes and lines tell us anything meaningful about it?

I encourage you all to look at your cities and share your thoughts!

http://www.xinjianlu.com/ (seems to be down) and http://www.f2gallery.com/artist/53/ 

Posted by Stephanie Chan 

The Baths of Caracalla

This weekend I saw the Coliseum, the Roman Forum, Palatine Hill, the Pantheon, and the Vatican, and although all of these monuments far exceeded my expectations, it was a lesser known monument—the Baths of Caracalla—which truly blew me away. The Caracalla facilities (Terme di Caracalla) are generally agreed to be the most elaborate of the Ancient Roman baths. I haven’t seen the others, but I am inclined to believe this after my visit to the ruins.

I have been trying to think of a modern equivalent for the past few days and I simply cannot think of a a place that matches both the scale and social importance of the Caracalla site. As impressive as the other sites are, I can think of contemporary equivalents: the Coliseum is the precursor to the modern stadium (Wembley Stadium in London, Cape Town (FIFA) Stadium, Beijing “Nest” Stadium are a few noteworthy examples), the Forum is to Rome as the Mall is to Washington D. C., and Palatine Hill is the Ancient Roman version of Beverley Hills. It is this unfamiliarity with the public baths that was so captivating, and as difficult as it was, I was determined to visualize the ancient atmosphere of each and every room.

The Baths were begun in the 3^rd century AD and it is estimated that 9,000 laborers installed 2,000 tons of raw material each day for 6 straight years in order to complete the massive complex a mile south of the Forum (the ancient city center). And massive is really the best adjective I can think of to describe this place. In total the complex covered approximately 33 acres and the main building stood about 12 stories high. In addition to the three central bathing halls—the caldarium (hot), tepidarium (warm), and frigidarium (cold)—there were two gyms (most commonly used for wrestling and ball games), an Olympic-sized outdoor swimming pool, two libraries (one with Greek literature and one with Latin literature), a courtyard for socializing and performances, shops, restaurants, and even sleeping quarters for visitors.

This sounds like some of the “super” malls that can be found in America, and I would agree except for the fact that that bathing was a daily activity for most Roman citizens. The baths were not a luxury spa experience or an amusement park for the rich, but a public meeting space and a social right in the ancient capital.

Although the baths were left to deteriorate after the aqueduct system was damaged in the 6^th century, they remain a significant site for Romans. When Rome hosted the 1960 Olympics, the baths served as a shell for the gymnastics facilities. Since 1937, the Teatro Dell’Opera di Roma has used Caracalla as a dramatic backdrop for its summer season, with performances by legends such as Luciano Pavarotti and Placido Domingo. A final fun fact: the architecture of the central frigidarium was so impressive that architects continue to replicate it nearly 2000 years later. The architects of Liverpool’s St. George’s Hall, Chicago’s Union Station, and New York’s Pennsylvania Station all visited Caracalla and studied the engineering before making their final blueprints. Does the video below look familiar for those of you who’ve been to these places? 

(download)

Click here to download:

Caracalla.mov (14.25 MB)

Posted by Taylor McAdam 

Urban Studies as a Way of Life

My freshman year, I lived in Faisan with a lovely young woman from Los Alamos, New Mexico with whom I had nothing in common. We had similar tastes in music, were both easy enough to get along with, but we never quite clicked and I remember the moment that I realized what it was: I was putting on sneakers to get ready for a run around the Quad (something I still like to do 5 years later, since it is the best lit place on campus) at about 9pm, and invited her to join me. She loved running, and was delighted to have someone to run with at that hour. As she put on her sneakers, she said, "I have to remind myself, I live in a city now and it's not safe to run at night by myself."

I was floored. I came from Brooklyn New York, one of the most urban places in America and for me, Stanford was the country. In Los Alamos, my roommate would sleep outside at night and feel completely alone, without anyone around her for miles. In Brooklyn, I felt like I was having dinner with my next-door neighbor every night; that's how close our dining room window was to theirs. 

As I'm preparing to graduate with a BA in Urban Studies, I have found myself considering the worth of an Urban Studies education. I will be moving on to the graduate program in Anthropology here at Stanford, pursuing my interest in archaeology, I have frequently encountered the question (from myself and others): what does Urban Studies have to do with that?

What I have come to value most about my education in Urban Studies is that it has allowed me an entry into a conversation with anyone. Urban Studies is the study of place; what it means to people and why; how it affects people; how it comes to be the way it is. Everyone is from some place and it is a subject that everyone can talk about. It's one of the first questions you ask of any stranger you're conversing with: where are you from? Why is that question important? It's one of the most basic ways we relate to other people--a connection to place. The places we are from shape our experiences and how we continue to live. Not to be fatalist--we are all so much more than where we're from-- but Urban Studies has given me an appreciation for the basic way we understand each other.

Posted by Stephanie Chan 

Urban Trekking?

I am writing this post after having lived in a city (Florence, Italy to be specific) for the first time in my life. I have already been here for almost a month, which is exceptionally hard to believe. I have been experiencing phenomenon and urban issues that I have been studying, researching, and blogging about for 3 years now. I walk 20 minutes to school each day, I buy lunch at coffee shops and delis, I ride public transportation if my destination is more than 3 miles away, I live in a small apartment in a mixed-use building, and I am constantly surrounded by people, sights, and smells that are foreign and novel. I expected all of the things on this list.

What I didn’t anticipate, however, is the difficulty of finding a place to exercise. This sounds trivial, but for someone who is used to simply stepping out the front door to a plethora of running paths, hiking trails, bike boulevards, and for that matter, neighborhood parks with recreation equipment, city life is a big departure.  There is really only one park here—Cascine Park—and although it is lovely to run through, it does not exactly invite joggers to stop for stationary exercises (push-ups, jumping jacks, sit-ups, etc.). 

I went on my first run the other day and chose a path that runs along the Arno River and through Cascine Park. To be fair, the route was beautiful and provided ample space to keep my heart rate up for a while. The only trouble was how to navigate the before and after portions of my workout. Walking to the park was not such a big deal (although Italians never wear shorts or t-shirts in the city), but weaving my way back to my apartment, sweaty and flushed, on the crowded sidewalks, was definitely uncomfortable. I see no way around this though, if I am going to go for a jog outside. This brings me to the possibility of exercising inside: buying a gym membership or enrolling in a studio class are the two main options.  Indoor exercise is fine (I do play basketball after all), but there is just something freeing and truly exhilarating about blowing off some steam in the open air.

Maybe outdoor recreation is a suburban luxury or maybe it is a Californian’s misconception of how the world works. Alternatively, maybe I am just looking at outdoor recreation too narrowly. Today I saw an ad in the newspaper for the Ninth Annual Urban Trekking Day in Italy. The event takes place every spring and autumn in about two-dozen cities across Italy. The guided walks, which move at a faster pace than normal tours, can cover anywhere from 1 mile to 5 miles and take anywhere from 1 hour to 4 hours. This spring’s treks focuses on the importance of water in urban life. Step aside “yogging” (as the Italians pronounce it)! Urban trekking is my new sport of choice.

Posted by Taylor McAdam 

Coachella as City

The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, so large that it is now spread across two weekends, just finished its first.  If you are to believe performers Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, over 90,000 people attended the festival on Sunday.  Some estimate that between two thirds and three quarters of festival-goers camp at the offered camping spots.  That makes about 65,000 people—an area more populous than Palo Alto!  And certainly more dense, since the Coachella grounds are only a few square miles at the most.

So what makes a city a city?  In the institutional sense it might be obvious—clearly incorporation for Coachella (at least the music festival—there is a city named Coachella, CA, even though the festival takes place in Indio, CA) is an absurd proposition.  But Coachella has residences, entertainment centers, public toilets and showers, and it even acts as a marketplace for a certain kind of product, although the sellers of those wares must be a bit covert about their operation for obvious reasons.  It’s population swells during the day, much like Palo Alto does (Palo Alto grows an astonishing 81.4% each day) and shrinks at night when its commuters return home to neighboring cities.

Could our definition of an urban space include a site that exists only for three days per year?  A pop-up city?

There’s also Burning Man, which may merit a whole book-length study unto itself.  Festival-goers populate what the organizers call “Black Rock City” for a week in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert. 

Posted by Gerad Hanono