At Home In an Urban Paradise: Part II The Sublime Nature of Social Capital

I live in a 13-story condominium, Park Place.  A pedestrian pathway separates it from an attendant three-story building, and the two structures house approximately 250 people in the heart of the Pearl District. When conceived in 2003, Park Place broke from the squat warehouse pattern where mostly brick structures topped out at six to seven stories. A significant portion of it was clad in concrete and glass, which made the tower appear as "a ballerina among break dancers," a reporter wrote.

Over time, the surrounding expanse of 15 to 20-story buildings has diminished the Park Place's ascendant appearance. When describing where I lived to a talented local scholar, he recognized my residence as "the wedge." If stolid in disposition, Park Place occupies an optimal site with stellar pedestrian connections. At the ground floor on the building's southern end, a restaurant extends to a 50-foot wide walkway that borders Jamison Park. The benches lining this linear space are ideal for meeting friends and genial discussions. When seeking repose, I find a bench that faces away from the park with a view of the lushly planted interior walkway between the tower and the line of low rise townhomes.

This half-block passage exemplifies how public and private space can merge into an aesthetic delight. Lined with birch trees, it is bordered by a profusion of vegetation. Flowering plants adorn the townhome balconies and brighten this idyllic refuge people use to escape the summer cacophony of Jamison Park. I have regular hellos and quick conversations here, while in the winter, when the sun sets by 5 p.m., I conclude my nightly walk at its entrance. I take in the spurge of lights framing the walkway and the white expanse of the Metropolitan, a 20-story tower that terminates the view. Uplifted by this respite, I shoulder the darkness aside for the rest of the evening. 

View to Metro in Winter

I live in a fifth-floor unit because that is the limit of a comfortable ascent carrying groceries, and I can view the western hills and Forest Park. The balcony is my interface with the public realm. It sits above the tree canopy, offers a panoramic vista to the downtown, and a swirl of sensations. Mischevious grins adorn bright modernistic totems, pedestrians voice glee and concern, and streetcars glide by on their regular runs, the gentle revving of their electric motors a reminder of the neighborhood’s efficiency of movement.

The balcony's most viserceal experience is at sunset. The sky is usually awash in hues of purple, blue, and gray, but in the autumn it takes a different turn. Giant streaks of orange and brilliant yellow command the horizon, reminiscent of the tones and shapes that fill Thomas Cole’s painting, The Savage State. Cole believed views of sublime nature—the grand and awesome spectacle humans could never replicate—unlocked our spiritual moorings. In the midst of a city I revel in the sky’s primeval display, a transcendent experience that enlivens a too often insular existence.

Thomas Cole, The Savage State

The balcony is where private life is exposed to public view. I have tried to make a convivial statement in the small 4-foot by 9-foot space. Planters filled with native grasses and indigenous firs stand on each end, leaving enough room for two chairs and a small table. A stone Japanese garden vase with flowers adds a spate of color. The final accruement is a small marble Buddha grounded on a circle of recycled timber. My oasis is scant, but ensuring that this bit of nature thrives enhances my well-being. The mix of plants, stone, and furniture also extends the boundary of my unit, which helps lessen the claustrophobia endemic to high-density developments.

The balcony also informs the configuration of my residence. Indoor plants harmonize with the sturdy outdoor specimens to diffuse distinctions between inside and outside. Vibrant abstract paintings line the walls at the far end of the unit. Their vivacity flows into a series of increasingly formal works that terminate at the entrance to the balcony. The colors, however, are consistent and they combine to accentuate the view to the western hills. In the late afternoon, light floods the room and its reflection casts an array of golden tones. The amber glow marks the wedding of nature and art, a time when tension falls away and poetic thoughts ensue.

Merging of inside and outside space

Modulating constrasts into a common aesthetic brings order and beauty to dailty existence. This endeavor is always a challenge, but the close quarters of urban life demands creativity. In return, abandonded neighborhoods like the Pearl District are crafted into an "urban paradise" with a responsive citizenry.

Caring for the spaces we inhabit not only attunes us to our surroundings, it envokes a sense of place and attachment to others. In the process, we build social capital and gain the confidence to join others in engaging the wider world. Just as in personal relationships, fear of failure dissipates when we advance a cause more important than ourselves.

Cooperation directs the survival instinct, it is why humans not only evolved but flourished. It is no different in our effort to master the city. For humans to reach their potential, only a common effort will make cities both efficient and transcendent. Then we can truly lay claim to paradise.

At Home in an Urban Paradise: Part I The Value of Social Capital

A Pearl District realty office provides services for "those who love city life" and desire an "urban paradise." There is truth in advertising. A “walker’s paradise” and projected to be a “bikers paradise,” it is a neighborhood “where people choose to come because of its unique mix of activities and its grit and contrasts,” the The Pearl District Development Plan states, “an urban place where daily life can be seen as much on the streets as in the buildings.” Since 1996, this document has guided efforts to to spur interaction and advance civility by harmonizing the built environment. There is no formula for this enterprise because good urbanism requires insight and an artist’s touch.

The art of place-making imbibes the Pearl District. Serving on its Planning and Transportation Committee, I am struck by the thorough analysis proposed projects undergo to ensure that they fit into the neighborhood’s urban milieu. Unity, harmony, and variety are the maxims of good design, and these words fill the committee’s discussions. First hand knowledge is also key. The Pearl District is a laboratory for urbanism, and the wisdom and stewardship that unites the committee is the product of daily study.

Good urbanism, like a good relationship, elicits affection, security, and attachment. In return, time and energy is invested in nurturing one’s surroundings. This investment has pay offs. In his insightful book, For the Love of Cities, Peter Kageyama, notes that communities with passionate and engaged citizens have higher levels of economic growth. The same traits also produce social capital, the connections among people that give rise to “norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness,” according to Harvard sociologist Robert Putnam. Putnam’s pioneering research revealed that social capital is a priceless commodity, as it is a prime indicator of life expectancy. (Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of the American Community)

Cities by their nature offer venues for the spontaneous, informal meetings that generate social capital. Such places are less prevalent in suburbs, and it is one of the reasons why social capital steadily depreciated once the United States invested its resources in building a suburban nation. The main culprit, according to Putnam, is automobile commuting: a ten-minute increase in travel time translates into a ten percent reduction in community involvement. At the same time, investing in pedestrian networks builds social capital. Jan Gehl, the Danish guru of urbanism, found that for every additional 14 square meters of car-free space, you gained another person participating in public life. This logic also fuels the Planning and Transportation Committee, as it seeks to procure a “well-designed urban neighborhood that operates as a network that increases social capital.” http://www.pearldistrict.org/about-the-pearl-district/

This effort is apparent in nearly every block. A crafted pedestrian realm and a mix of parks, plazas and greens orient streets and buildings to a scale suited for people to interact. In a high-density environment, the test is to blur the distinction between the public realm and private space. A seamless transition between parks, balconies, porches, planting strips, and sidewalks helps to both elicit face-to-face contact and cluster people into the smaller groups that form a social capital network. Taking an interest in common areas and enhancing adjoining private property not only fosters a sense of community; it creates the aesthetic and visual connections that unite a neighborhood. (Chapman and Lund, "Housing Density and Livability in Portland," in The Portland Edge)

Note the integration of public and private space

I have learned this first hand. Besides serving on the Planning and Transportation Committee, I volunteer with Friends of Tanner Springs. My singular skill is removing exotic thistles, but it allows me to join in the camaraderie and sense of accomplishment gained from our labors. I also collaborated with the North Park Blocks coalition, sharing my research on park users when conditions in the historic greens deteriorated last summer. The group sponsored several candidate forums that sparked tough questions on the conundrum of gentrification and homelessness. There were no easy answers, and everyone left realizing the challenge ahead.

Tanner Springs native planting project

Civic engagement fosters social capital. It instills a sense of belonging that softens the anonymity of urban life and, most important, it forges the bonds of virtue--the investment private citizens make for the public good--that Jefferson deemed essential for a republic to survive. Virtue is the "foundation of happiness," and "utility the test of virtue," he entoned, and since the heyday of classical Athens, a city in a republic is where happiness is attained and paradise approached. In the 21st century, Portland does not have a singular claim to virtue, but it utility--the pragmatic application of principle--is forging happiness on sustaining lines.

Biker's Paradise: Metric for Sustainability

Biking in downtown Portland has entered a new era.  Currently, it is not for the faint of heart. There are bike lanes, streets designated for bikers, and safe spaces at intersections, but the consistent proximity to motorists fosters a “high stress” experience that deters over 50 percent of the population from biking.  In addition, numerous traffic controls force more stops and slower speeds, and sections of Interstate 405 impede travel.  In the last month, however, new life has been given to plans to create a biker’s paradise in the central city.

Last June, I partook in a uniquely Portland event, the Ned Flanders Greenway Ride.  It brought neighbors and advocates together to assess the prospects of making Flanders Street the first neighborhood greenway in the inner Northwest section of the city.  Donned in green sweaters and mustachios, Zef Wagner, from the Portland Bureau of Transportation (PBOT), and Reza Farhoodi, the vice-chair of the Pearl District Planning and Transportation Committee, led the ride.  Their comical appearance added color to a wonkish two hours.  Fifty participants discussed policy and studied the obstacles that impaired bike access between the Alphabet District, Tom McCall Park, and bridge access to east Portland.

Zef Wagner and Reza Farhoodi

The I-405 intersection was particularly onerous. It is difficult and dangerous territory for walkers and bikers to navigate. The solution, Wagner and Farhoodi explained, was a decade-old proposal to span the busy freeway with a narrow bike bridge. After a lively discussion, the consensus was this project was the key to providing safe passage for bicyclists between some of the most densely populated neighborhoods in the Pacific Northwest.

Flanders Bike-Pedestrian Bridge

In late August, the Oregon Transportation Commission approved $2,877,000 to build the Flanders Bike Bridge. PBOT pledged another $3 million for it from fees paid by developers to mitigate transportation impacts. Plans call for a 24-foot wide structure with two six-foot bike lanes in the middle and six-foot wide sidewalks on each side. Slated to open in 2018, the bridge is expected to average 3,000 crossings as pedestrians and bikers shift from the three high-stress intersections east of Burnside Avenue. Once speed bumps, signage, and diverters are added to Flanders Street, an influx of bikers will spur the number to 9,100. The anticipated increase in users will surpass the trip count on the Hawthorne Bridge, Portland’s most heavily traveled route for commuter biking.

The Flanders Street Greenway is also a key component of the proposed Green Loop, a spoke in the open space network being designed to provide a “low stress” biking experience on both sides of the Willamette River. The Loop is expected to generate a surge of bicycle commuters and carless consumers who will stimulate business and enhance Portland’s green brand. The city is known as a biking Mecca, and with the success of Biketown, the city’s new bike share program, the Green Loop should be a popular tourist draw.

Green Loop with Flanders Greenway outlined in Orange

In its first month, Biketown users took 59,000 trips and traveled 136,000 miles. The city purchased 600 bicycles and ancillary equipment with a $2 million federal grant. A $10 million, five-year sponsorship from Nike allowed for the purchase of an additional 400 bicycles and the expansion of the service area to eight square miles. I am one of the 2,500 subscribers that pay $12 a month to use the bright orange bikes for 90 minutes a day before additonal costs accrue. There are 12 hubs in the Pearl District alone, and another 88 spread out over neighborhoods on both sides of the Willamette.

Installing Bike Share in Downtown

Bike share is ideal for trips over half a mile. It also offers quick and cheap access from the inner northwest to the near eastside, the most bike friendly section of the city. A team of Willamette Weekly reporters timed and priced a variety of transportation choices between their office in Slabtown (it borders the Pearl District) and a destination across across the Willamette River on SE 12th Avenue. Car2Go was the fastest option. It took 18 minutes and cost $6.47. The bus had slowest time; it took 51 minutes and cost $2.50. The bicycle took 23 minutes, which is priced at $2.50 with Biketown. A taxi ride takes the same time, but it has a $17 price tag. Of course, bike owners enjoy a free trip and burn 250 calories on the journey.

Once the Flanders Street Bridge and greenway becomes operational the trip time to the eastside will be reduced by two minutes. When the Green Loop comes on line, times will fall further and the Pearl District will be a “biker’s paradise,” according to Roger Geller, Portland’s Bicycle Coordinator. This is the highest designation allotted by bikescore.com, signifying that “daily errands can be accomplished on a bike.” 

The Pearl District is already deemed a “walker’s paradise” by walkscore.com. With the new biking network, residents will find it easier to trade the automobile for healthy, less polluting, and cost efficient alternatives. Having this option is also crucial to providing affordable housing, as these projects exclude the expensive additive of automobile parking. Equity, health, and sustainability are inter-related, but getting this mix demands, as Portland demonstrates, a new conception of paradise.