Grids, novelty

Last fall I had the chance to study urban design at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts in Copenhagen.  It was my first experience at an architecture school, and the contrast with the UW’s planning department was stark.  Rather than the practical, almost technocratic bent of planning school, the Academy encouraged students to approach the process of urban design like a painter or sculptor would approach their art.  This has its ups and downs.  On one hand, you can’t build delightful urban places by applying a template.  You need the right brain for that.  On the other hand, treating a neighborhood like a canvass can have unfortunate consequences.

For example, I noticed more than once that my colleagues resisted the idea of laying out streets in a grid pattern.  They considered them boring and repetitious.  Instead they gravitated toward organic forms: snaking paths, or angular, chaotic networks.

Wassily Kandinsky, Composition No. 8

I’ll admit that these plans looked nice from above, when viewed in plan.  Rather like good pieces of abstract art, which I’m sure, at some level, they were inspired by.  But I had to come to the defense of the grid.  When you’re walking down a street, you’re not comprehending the neighborhood’s entire street network at once.  From an aesthetic poi­nt of view it doesn’t matter if the next road over is parallel to the one you’re on, or veers off at an angle.  You’re looking at the shops, the plants, the pavement in front of you.  And (usually) you’re finding your way, walking with a destination in mind, which you may not have visited before.  It’s hard to find somewhere new when you keep encountering irregular intersections, and when there’s not a straight path to where you’re going.  I think the novelty of living amidst a whimsical street plan would get old after the 15^th or 20^th time you get lost, or the umpteenth call from a lost guest trying to find your house.

Piet Mondrian, Composition With
Red, Yellow and Blue

Grids have their downsides, of course.  You might find them monotonous if you’re behind the wheel of a car.  They tend not to be responsive to topography.  Assuming they’re fine-grained, they necessitate a lot of pavement, which is bad for water quality.  But there are ways to deal with these problems.  You can lay out larger blocks and section them with pedestrian and bicycle paths.  You can install green infrastructure for stormwater treatment.  And if you allow sufficient density, the water quality impacts of the grid are balanced by the mitigation of sprawl.

The main point here is not that creative street layouts are a bad thing, just that they should be considered from the point of view of the average user.  If you’re ever in a position to judge an urban design proposal and the designer tells you that a regular street layout—or any traditional feature, for that matter—would be “boring,” think carefully about the day-to-day users of the space, and about what long-term value novelty would bring to the project.