Monday, October 17, 2016
“A row of daffodils and red tulips nestled against the walkway beneath my feet. Stray weeds peeked up through the cracks in the concrete, a reminder that that nature had the final say. No matter how much mankind bulldozed or built, all was vulnerable to Mother Nature's whims.”
― Pamela Crane, A Secondhand Life
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
“It was a plot
Of garden-ground, now wild, its matted weeds
Marked with the steps of those whom as they pass’d,
The goose-berry trees that shot in long lank slips,
Or currants hanging from their leafless stems
In scanty strings, had tempted to o’erleap
The broken wall. Within that cheerless spot,
Where two tall hedgerows of thick willow boughs
Joined in a damp cold nook, I found a well
Half-choked with willow flowers and weeds.
I slaked my thirst and to the shady bench
Returned, and while I stood unbonneted
To catch the motion of the cooler air
The old Man said, “I see around me here
Things which you cannot see: we die, my Friend,
Nor we alone, but that which each man loved
And prized in his peculiar nook of earth
Dies with him or is changed, and very soon
Even of the good is no memorial left.”
---Wordsworth, The Excursion, Book I ("The Ruined Cottage")
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Peter Del Tredici, senior research scientist at Arnold Arboretum and a lecturer at the Harvard Graduate School of Design, makes an excellent case for urban ecologies. In his article, Flora of the Future, in Places journal (April 2014, available at https://placesjournal.org/article/the-flora-of-the-future/?gclid=COrKpNWPo88CFdcWgQod1UkAEA), Del Tredici emphasizes two ecological tenets: that environmental stability is an illusion, and that an unpredictable future belongs to the best adapted. Hence, the dynamics of urban plants. Peter also points out some fun “new infrastructural taxonomies” that include:
· The chain link fence. “They provide plants — especially vines — with a convenient trellis to spread out on and a measure of protection from the predation of maintenance crews.”
· Vacant lots. “Their soils typically have high pH levels, and they are usually colonized by a suite of plants that I like to refer to as a “cosmopolitan urban meadow.”
· The road median strip. “In short, the median strip is perfect for crabgrass.”
· Stone and masonry walls. “From the plant’s perspective, these structures are good stand-ins for a limestone cliff, and many cliff species are well adapted to growing on city walls. “
· Pavement cracks. “We tend to think of pavement cracks as stressful habitats, but in fact, as the water sheets off the pavement, it flows right into the crack, making it a rich site in terms of its ability to accumulate moisture and nutrients”
· Specialized microclimates. “As an example, carpetweed (Mollugo verticillata), a summer annual from Central America, subsists only on air-conditioner drip.”
· River corridors. “They serve as important pathways for the migration of both plants and animals into and out of the city.”
These are fun to think about, what are some other spaces unique to the urban fabric that create their own micro-ecologies—drainage swales, brick walls, flat roofs, parking lots, steps, utility rights-of-way, etc. How many species can we find?
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Thursday, August 25, 2016
On a recent trip to Shanghai, China, I was struck by the sheer number of urban redevelopment projects happening there. The economy is booming in China, and it seemed that as soon as a residential district aged about 50 years it was slated for demolition and “renewal.” From the stacked elevated highways, the sprawling metropolis displayed dozens of recently bulldozed neighborhoods. The city was a checkerboard of grey concrete high rises alternating with walled-off rubble piles. Growing over the concrete debris were trusty early successional plants -- sumacs, grasses, plantains, and smartweeds. As a matter of fact, the rubble piles were one of the few areas where I didn’t see managed park-like landscapes in the city; they were about the only places that wildscapes can exist.
This led me to think about economics as a driver of early successional landscapes in cities. It’s relatively easy to take down old buildings, it’s much more expensive and time-consuming to put new ones up. So the land often sits there while the wheels of economics spin. As the land waits, seeds blow in from nearby sites or emerge from the soil bank below. Flowers open in the first season, moths and butterflies dive in, spiders follow suit. Suddenly a thriving ecosystem occurs where none, and I mean none, existed before. Of course this doesn’t last long before new construction begins. But in the meantime, a foothold for new life begins its march into new territories. An age-old, time-tested march.
There are plenty of plants that follow human disturbances. Eastern American native peoples named the European plantain (Plantago major) “white man’s footprint” because it only appeared where the Colonists settled. Humans are a busy sort, and because of this, they continually create the way for opportunistic plants, animals, and diseases to thrive. Whether we like it or not, they are our constant companions and work to heal our landscapes. Urban renewal creates transitional ecologies, which in my book, can create important early successional plant communities. Maybe one will hopscotch near you.
Friday, August 12, 2016
Allowing for Landscape Dynamism
Landscape architects take immense pride in their sketches and the crafting of shining visions of what a project could be. These are beautifully rendered and often use freehand ink and marker drawings, Photoshop jpegs, 3d Sketchup models, and photo-realistic Lumion visualization software. Sometimes, these images are so lush and colorful that the clients will end up paying for a really nice sketch-- but in actuality is a dysfunctional design. But does the landscape ever really look like the image that they imagined? Does it ever take into account the droughts, the insect infestations, the eutrophic waterbodies, the reductions in maintenance budgets, or just plain decline of the entire system? Where is landscape process and the inclusion of ecosystem services in client presentations? Simple, it is intentionally and quietly not discussed for many projects. That magically falls to the realm of the client and the landscape manager.
Designers project their visions of what the landscape will look when it is semi-mature, usually 10 to 15 years out. The trees are large, the fountain is always flowing, and there are plenty of parking spaces available. Project sketches are an ideal of the project on a good day. The sun shines and has billowy clouds, there are happy children with kites and balloons in the air, and families out enjoying a Sunday stroll. Happy drawings (think Bob Ross) make for happy clients. But does this give clients a static view of their landscape that eventually guides their long term management? To account for this, do we expect the average person to have an advanced understanding of landscape succession and management? Do clients budget the landscape funding accordingly to keep that perpetual view? Landscapes are most often looked at as temporary gardens in a throw-away culture. If the old one doesn’t suffice, let’s get the dozers in and make a new one. New owners have new ideas and new image brands for their properties. And cities are ripe with areas for “redevelopment” (code for let’s take out the old and put in the new).
How can a design represent successional process? A 2014 article in the journal Places discusses just that. Written by Chris Reed and Nina-Marie Lister, the article traces prior world-views of static ecological systems to today’s dynamic landscape processes. Entitled Ecology and Design: Parallel Genealogies, the authors state “There is a growing recognition that what is needed are more flexible, adaptive approaches to managing human activities and designing within the systems that sustain us. What designers make of this has much to do with how change and dynamism are understood and interpreted in the humanities and within cultural production.”
There are landscape architects such as Michael Van Valkenburg, Michael Hargreaves, Richard Haag, and Ian McHarg that have incorporated some ecological process into their work; and are highlighted in the article. But this will happen only when designers realize that landscape is a living process, and not just a product. You can view the full article at
Thursday, August 4, 2016
"Why can we imagine smart technologies and not smart behaviors, smart institutions, and smart societies? Why think only of technology and not of humans and their societies that co-evolve with Earth?" --Marina Alberti, from http://www.thenatureofcities.com/2013/09/27/building-cities-that-think-like-planets/