
The narrative is not …
• A history
The narrative is a celebration of Place that …
• Celebrates heroes & villains
Four Principles for Creating A Sense of Place Through Narrative:
The City is a dynamic, living narrative:
The City is a dynamic, living narrative, an unfolding autobiography, a melding of countless invisible stories; raveling not in words but in movement, fear, desire, need, coupling— the daily of living.
The city seen is a narrative painted upon the canvas of the city invisible; meaning – definition – is found not in the narrative, but in the illegible depths of the unseen city. To think that the 'painting' is the narrative is delusional. For what is seen is but an incomplete snapshot in time, one fragment of the ever-unfolding narrative. Incomplete because it cannot capture the full dynamic of that moment, limited to the immediate perspective and surround.
Yet we delude ourselves into believing that we can arrange the narratives of "captured city" in a collage called "The City." Deluded, we seek to manage that which has been captured; convincing ourselves the fiction that we write is The City.
And The City ceases to exist.
A narrative, by definition, is an account of connected events in the order of occurrence. It is however, not a mere listing of events, but the story that unfolds between the events and the people and places involved in the narrative. If we use this as our working definition we are no longer discussing the creation of an artificial story, but rather how we use the story, past and present, to create both a sense of place and potential. As we read a story, there is the implied knowledge that there is more to come, even when the present story ends. I think that it is this implication, predicated upon the unfolding narrative that provides what we call "sense of place." If we do not a sense of future (and I do not think that it matters whether imagine the future to be good or bad) we cannot have a present sense of place.
Keeping with the idea of narrative, I suggest that the built environment of the place is the narrator of story. By "listening to" the built environment we gain knowledge of the past as well as an inkling of the future, and it is all in the present moment as we experience the built environment. There are a certain few retail blocks that I like to walk. For the most part, the buildings are in decay. The future of these blocks can go either way; yet it is the combination of knowing that these blocks can go either way coupled with the fact that one time this was a grand, upscale street, that provides for me the street's sense of place.
I think that for this reason a lifestyle center plunked down in the middle of field fails in achieving a sense of place. The built environment is incongruent with the narrative. In time, perhaps, a narrative will develop, but until then such places remain Disneyesque.
Thus, the first principle for creating a sense of place is that the built environment, even if new, must be in agreement with the narrative of the site.
Not too long ago I read the story of one of the first families in this region. After having moved through what was then a vast wilderness they came upon a "place pleasant to the eyes, abundant with fresh water and game; a soil fit for the growing of vegetables." "This is our place." There was a narrative endued in the land: the land's pleasant amenities became melded with narrative of the family, and in time with the urban neighborhood that grew up around it, including the aforementioned street. People who live in this neighborhood, even those of a different race from that original family, have made that story part of their own. Because of that, new houses and retail buildings are being built without loss of a sense of place. However, in that same neighborhood two shopping plaza have been built diagonally across from each other in away that overwhelms the neighborhood. It is the one place in the larger neighborhood that residents generally complain doesn't fit. It doesn't fit, because it imposes its own sterile, poorly executed story upon the neighborhood narrative.
The second principle for creating a sense of place is that new development must continue the narrative.
There is a fine difference between agreement and continuance— ;a difference developers sometimes fail to distinguish. In our neighborhood example, the plazas are in agreement with the retail/commercial aspect of the narrative, but fail to continue the narrative in both scale and type.
What makes creating a sense of place difficult is that a sense of place is personal. In or example, it is I, as the one telling the story of the place, who feels the sense of place. Sense of place must be experienced and it will only be experienced when my personal story enters into the larger narrative.
The third principle of creating a sense of place is that of creating for each individual interacting with the built environment, a sense of belonging to, or that of becoming part of, the larger narrative.
Here is the tricky part: we each experience place differently, thus the narrative of place becomes colored by our experiential perspective.
In Athens the transit system is know as the "metamorphia." Metamorphosis means, "change of form.&34; A year ago I took Amtrak from Cleveland to Portland, Oregon. This trip provided a number of perspectives, although the overall narrative did not change. The narrative – that of the train moving across the country – was colored by my experience in the train both with the physical train and fellow passengers, as well as the observations I made looking out the window. My fellow passengers were part of the same narrative, but each had their own perspective of the narrative. Those standing outside the train watching it pass each had their own story, which I became part of by virtue of my being on the train. My observation of them looking at the train, likewise made them part of my story. Now, suppose they were conscious of my face in the window looking out, seeing my face, they made tentative conclusions about me, as I did about them. As the train moved across the countryside the narrative unfolded continually in several different forms, yet the overall root narrative – that of a train moving from place to place – remained the same.
If we equate the physical train with place, and equate the movement of the train with the movement of individuals through the built environment, each with their own observations and perceptions, we begin to see how unfolding narratives interact to create a sense place for each individual.
The fourth principle of creating a sense of place is that the built environment needs to be designed in such a way as to not hinder the unfolding evolution of the narrative, whether in the personal or in the collective story. Form can change, but change of form must not change the basic narrative.
• A documentary (in the sense of documenting)
• A perspective
• A what's right/what's wrong look
• A polemic
• A preservation piece
• Celebrates all "walks of life"
• Celebrates the good & the bad
• Celebrates the forward movements & the backward movements
• Celebrates the people
• Celebrates the births & deaths, the growth & decay (the evolution)
• Celebrates the buildings
• Celebrates the environment
• Celebrates the space
• Celebrates the life inherent
How do we preserve the narrative as we rehabilitate our urban neighborhoods, so that we don't lose their sense of place? I do not mean creating an artificial story; rather I ask how can we use design to make a place part of the narrative?
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