The urban landscape: Situationalism, or designing with the context

Call it idealism, but I like to be a person who stands for something. In my work I feel all I do should at least not lead to more ugliness, but favourably to more beauty. This takes a well-understood notion of what beauty is within the urban landscape and were the strength of intervention lies.

I did my professional training in a time when postmodernism was more or less the norm for what was included in magazines and books and New Urbanism was slowly taking root in Europe. Despite the focus on postmodern design, planning was taught from a modernist tradition in which functionality was the basis for every plan. It was pointed out to me several times that a good designer should have a signature, a certain style of his/her own. That would be the expression of what that person stands for as a professional. Often I saw this personal style being translate into expressly shaped collages of interventions, that together formed an almost graphic composition in two dimensions. I found that problematic; I’d rather not be confined by a distinct style, as it can quickly become a trick.

A strong intervention is the Erasmus Bridge across the Meuse in Rotterdam. This asymmetrical design by Ben van Berkel from 1996 was nick-named The Swan because of the shape with the kinked pylon. Such an intervention creates place and makes the most of the wide expanse of water that mirrors the high-rises of the city.

Interventions are often only judged to be successful when they are striking. Notwithstanding some marvellous examples, these interventions are often stand-alone and no real addition to their context. For me a good design or a successful spatial intervention is, if anything, inconspicuous. By inconspicuous I mean that the new situation comes across as self-evident. I don’t like it when a place looks overly designed or needs explanation to reveal the designers meaning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating disguising change behind a veneer of constancy by dolling up a reassuring decor for everyday life to run its course. No, the character of the urban landscape it too interwoven with its use and users to be a mere stage set.

I approach every intervention from the context of the site. Now most colleagues will argue that most of them do this, as they have been trained to make a good analysis of underlying abiotics, visible patterns, spatial characteristics and current use.  Adding the specific history of a site and for most planning professionals the first chapter of the explanatory notes is solid and finished. Whether they all come to the right conclusions is a different matter altogether.

I think to be designing from the place. The question should be again and again: “what is relevant here?” Is geology relevant, or should ground water be considered? Or is perhaps the history of the place or the present flora most relevant? It remains difficult to weigh up the relevancy, especially if one works from a fixed format. I therefore try to take the open approach based on the situation and in part rely on past experiences.

Situationalism at work: on the left a row of new-built houses replacing older housing in garden village De Zanding in Ede, not far from Tuindorp Vooruit. The design of these houses fits well with the aesthetic of a garden village. Another successful intervention are these new garden sheds (right) in Tuinwijk Palliter in Lierre that are covered in orange clay tiles to resemble the roofs of the listed buildings in this garden village.

As a situational designer, one tries to bring out the best of any given place within the limitations of the desired functional or spatial change(s). Contextual design can also mean that something unique is added to a place. That can even be an intervention made before in another location, everyone has their own references. Situational design isn’t the same as limiting yourself to what is already there! What is important is that design elements aren’t simply copied or introduced without any regard for context or function. When suddenly a small square in a drab new town is laid out afresh as if it were a Tuscan village square complete with pollarded plane trees, olive trees, lavender in tubs and areas of soft yellow gravel, you can bet that counsellors and /or civil servants have come back inspired from a study trip or holiday.

“I’d like that too” is a very dangerous sentiment anyway. It has caused many uninspired, similar developments of small industrial and trading estates along B-roads and motorway junctions. It is too awful for words how a policy of compact development and concentrated expansion to preserve space and the landscape has lead to uniformity of small developments on the edge of pre-existing urbanised areas and larger developments in often conspicuous places along infrastructure. Often the only reason for building at a certain site is that it wouldn’t be built somewhere else. Such poverty!

Lelystad is a new town on new land in the North Flevopolder. There was nothing to base the design on so designers and planners had free reign to create according to their purest principles. The result is overall very disappointing. The urban space is never pleasant or cohesive even though the quality control of the architecture was strong and there was much attention paid to planning the streetscape.

It can’t be expected that any development can be dumped in any given location and be bought off by a spruced up bridle path, a few rows of oak trees or a small field planted with fruit trees. Why do (landscape) planners lend themselves to this? It should be them especially that adjust unfavourable initiatives and bad design to beautiful places by coming up with design improvements and suggestions for better interventions. The reoccurring mantra that developments need to be integrated into the landscape deserves an honest answer from the specialist: a well-integrated urban landscape requires more space, spatial integration isn’t a tool for reducing the size of developments. A truly spatial solution requires courage to advice a fitting strategy and a good idea to convince the stakeholders.

Functional integration can however save space. This makes the tendency in planners and politicians alike -presumably to create legibility and legal clarity- to situate monofunctional areas side by side all the more objectionable. I immediately think of those awful narrow strips of weeds along brooks and woodland, that are supposed to create an ecological corridor between designated nature reserves, themselves often little more than a weedy field with a few trees and a freshly excavated pond for newts. To my mind a small river valley has been well appointed when there is room for wild animals and plants to flourish and coexist with sixty something ramblers in wax coats and methane burping rare breed cows. The focus should then shift from preservation of rare species at the edge of their range towards common, but often declining, species. Seeking smart combinations of functions will result in much more future proof usage then monofunctional segregation. This also is a situational approach.

New Urbanism can have a situationalist vein as shown here in the Inverdan Project in Zaandam.  A former canal that was filled in was re-excavated as the central motif in a revamped shopping street. New additions replicate vernacular architecture with the typical wood planked weather boarding in green with white trims (on the left a new kiosk). The canal was given new bridges (middle) which effectively partition the space and create a sense of place. The large office blocks behind the station (right) are much less inspired although they employ the vernacular colour scheme and shapes. I think they are a mistake of scale.

That situationalism would be synonymous with conservative or even anti-change is a misconception. The only stable characteristic of the urban landscape is that it is everchanging. The result of these successive changes and interventions is the backdrop of all our lives. Our urban environment has developed into a pattern-card of the successive ideas on urban design, architecture and planning. The same is true for green areas, whether these are public gardens, parks or green belt. The resulting legibility of the spatial and temporal development is itself characteristic for that area and often quite charming. Especially for those concerned with the study and analysis of spatial development those coherent characteristics of architecture, street plan and greenery are truly a blessing. The New Towns are excellent examples of the changing trends and ideas from their inception until the present all neatly organised in separate areas. That characteristic alone is worth treasuring.

That said, many -myself included- feel that something vital is missing from many of these planned New Towns. The issue is not the fact that they were planned to be built from scratch (the same is true of the much-admired Amsterdam Canal Belt), or the fact that the architecture is the portrait of an era (this is also true of the 1920s-1930s architecture). The main difference lies in the lack of coherent and legible spatial ensembles. This is especially apparent in those streets with 1930s retro-architecture that lack the Unwinesque design features. The houses are little more than a facsimile of a copy-paste exterior deemed desirable that disguise modern constructions in a standard commercial parcelling plan. Despite all this desperate desire for old-fashioned streets, they never result in an urban space that is coherent or pleasant because the plans weren’t conceived with designing with ensembles in mind. 

More New Urbanism in this large Outlet Mall in Lelystad. Bataviastad was conceived as an attractive tourist attraction with architecture recalling old fishing towns on this new land, which makes it quasi-authentic, disingenuous and not situationalist at all. This stand-alone development on the edge of the city was named after the replica ship Batavia moored nearby. It was opened in 2001 and for all its flaws it was designed as an ensemble which results in a personable place with spaces that work.

Designing with ensembles is at the core of situational design. A historic reference can prove helpful, especially if this generates surplus value for the initiators of the planed development. It is never a good idea, however, to copy certain solutions regardless of the context and strew the urban landscape with the same garden squares, waterside gabled houses and fake farmsteads everywhere. Understanding the context creates uniqueness and personality. From a situational approach come obvious interventions, that will be inconspicuous, but especially characterised by a high degree of identifiability and intrinsic value. That’s what I stand for!