Changes

So here I am, returned from a glorious honeymoon in Portugal. Aside from getting robbed of our remaining cash on our last day while we were away from our hotel room, Lisbon and Madeira offered a perfect spot to start a marriage. But of course, even on vacation, I found myself thinking about our exotic surroundings and trying to dissect how a settlement with hundreds of years on anywhere in America has evolved and adjusted to the realities of modern land use needs. Our first stop, Lisbon, had all of what an unindoctrinated American would expect from an "Old World" city. Tight cobblestone roads of the Alfama and Bairro Alto districts captured the bygone times of medieval Europe. We walked the ruins of the St. George's Castle, which overlooked the city, and explored the Belem Tower, a few miles outside of the city center, which was the demarcation point for countless voyages during the Age of Discovery. But it was a discovery that I made in our hotel which was most intriguing to me.

Rummaging through the hotel library, I came across a flier for the Lisbon International Triennale of Architecture, which will be held until the end of July. Unfortunately, I only read the pamphlet after we had left the city. Using "Urban Voids" as its main theme, the symposium's primary mission is to discuss and propose solutions to rectify what the literature calls "spots of 'non-city,' absent places, ignored or not in use anymore, aliens or survivors to any structuring urban plan." Like the "Drosscape" previously discussed in my post dated December 5, 2006, the collection of thinkers drawn to this event will examine ways to reuse and adapt those parcels and locales within cities that have fallen into disuse. When I think about the "Urban Voids" of Lisbon, I can recall those locations we traversed that needed additional consideration and attention. My wife and I left Lisbon with a sense that the city was one definitely worth exploring, but one that did not necessarily require a return trip. Sure, this is a different measure than one to determine the actual vitality of a city, but it does provide some indication as the work that the capital of Portugal can still do to improve on the centuries that have come before.

Moving over to Madeira, and the wonderful vistas that exude from its jagged coast and rugged topography, and the beautiful blue ocean that hugs its shores, this locale brought a sense of new discovery to us. At the same time, I saw many of the same questions to answer regarding "Urban Voids." Sure, Funchal, the major city on the volcanic island, is a beautiful, picture perfect postcard of a resort town, down to the overhead cable car system that take tourists over its wonderful streets below. Gorgeous, if not small vacation homes shove their way up the hills that lead out of town up into the heart of the island. But beneath the luster of the commercial center, where the day we walked its streets a line of classic automobiles were primed for a road rally, was there more that could be done?

I suppose the thoughts that crossed my mind most were about the potential of these places. Notwithstanding their existing beauty, as a land use professional, I couldn't resist what more they could be. In both locations, we were afforded only a very small sample of what it meant to be in "Lisbon" and "Funchal." But of what we saw, we were still left with, "is there more?" Maybe it's that ingrained American outlook on things that pushed us to ask for more. But if the great European minds thinking about issues involving the built environment are also asking this same question, maybe it is a more fundamental pursuit, one that crosses national borders and language and cultural differences. It is that inherent drive of optimism that continues to change and reshape the world around us. Almost on the order of the desire to repaint the walls in your house, just because you want something different, the need to update the place you live in is a prerequisite to remaining a vital part of the outside world. Changes need to be marked with great fanfare, just as my wife and I did in glorious fashion as we walked the streets of Portugal. Perhaps this underlying, fundamental movement towards change will entice us back to the country, to rediscover it all over again.

Location and Localism

In the real estate biz, that old mantra of "location, location, location" remains tried and true, going strong in determining price and scarcity. A recent study from two Northwestern University economists highlights this point. In it, the authors conclude that owners who sell their homes on their own, as opposed to employing the services of a real estate agent, come out ahead in the race for the best price. Where does location factor into the equation, you ask? The study focused on the Madison, Wisconsin area, which has a highly developed online service, FSBOMadison,com, that has emerged in the region as the place to go to buy and sell real estate. Therefore, the applicability of the findings elsewhere all depend on the existence of such an online presence in an area. For me, this was the most interesting implication from the study. Contrary to many futurist commentators out there, no matter how technically dependent our society becomes, it is still all very much contingent on where you live as to what your day-to-day life means, formed by you and the neighbors around you.

Developers eyeing target properties must also take into account the inherent local flavor of the surrounding area when making determinations as to where to invest and build. Missteps are around every rolling hill of developable regions. A perfect case of this was the recent story out of Pennsylvania, where State officials have formed the Wall Street consortium, a project conceived to entice financial outfits located in the epicenter of lower Manhattan to establish back-up facilities in the bucolic setting of northeast Pennsylvania. The draw is that the region is outside of the "blast zone" of potential attacks and natural disasters that could befall Wall Street. As part of this initiative, the Governor has announced plans to construct a $24 million fiber optic cable network that would connect Pennsylvania to the current home of the world's movers and shakers. Up until now, Wall Street's interest in their neighbors to the west has been lukewarm at best. Boosters hope that the installation of high-speed connectivity to the fast-paced world of financial markets will open up the floodgates. Most remain skeptical.

On another front, backers in Blackman, Tennessee, a burgeoning exurb about 35 miles southwest of Nashville, are hoping to win approvals for Bible Park USA, a theme park sprawling over 100 acres of Tennessee farmland. The $150 to $200 million project would divide its focus so that one half of the park would be devoted to Old Testament teachings, and the other half to the New Testament. An authentic Galilean village would be at the center of it all. Even though the local residents are firmly rooted in the Bible Belt, when religion and land use mix, these denizens have decided to turn their back on the Lord. Despite a campaign described as completely "above-board," the local residents have let the preservation of the character of the community reign supreme. Even the local Methodist pastor is against the project. "Would I rather look at the theme park or would I rather look at the farmland and the forest here? I would pick the latter." Although the developers continue to push on in their fight through the zoning process, it appears that the almighty force of localism may win this round.

No matter where you decide to settle down, the enormous influence of a location's character engulfs the people who take ownership in a particular place. Whether you're in Madison, Wisconsin, northeast Pennsylvania or central Tennessee, people who call these places home have their own conception of how their world ought to be ordered. But that's the beauty of the process that governs land use -- it is in the hands of those that truly care to make a difference, whether one considers their vision right or wrong. But whatever the value system, it is one that at times not even a higher power can influence.

Speaking of ranging locations, my lovely fiance and I will be getting married this Saturday in bucolic upstate New York. After that, we'll be off to Portugal and Madeira. What that means is I'll be taking a vacation from my musings, returning in two weeks with a new edition, and hopefully a story or two to tell.

The Beginning, or the Beginning of the End

Not too long ago I sat in my office, and picked up a new file. As with any new site, the first order of business of the land use attorney is to pinpoint the property, and learn as much as possible about it. The first place I went was Google Earth, the wonderful service provided by the internet giant that allows anyone to spy down on any property you can imagine, as if you're peeking down on Cuba circa 1962 and looking for ICBMs. Within a few moments, I could discern what was on the target property, and what the neighbors had done with their places. I also knew that the neighbors would not be happy with what we intended to propose. Outside my door I heard two colleagues talking about Google Earth, amazed how easy it had all become. As if on cue, they went on to tout how it has made our lives as land use professionals that much easier.

To make things clear, no, I’m not a spokesperson for Google. In fact, I'm more than happy to report on the darker side of things at "the happiest place on Earth," if the Disney folks had not already trademarked the phrase. Recently, the down side of being able to look down on everything from your childhood home to Wrigley Field has bubbled to the surface. In particular, the Street View function of Google Maps has raised concerns from the subjects of these revealing images. One California woman complained to Google once she discovered that the picture of her home included a clear view of her cat Monty. Apparently a popular pic floating around the internet is one from the Stanford University campus revealing two young ladies sunbathing in their bikinis. Google's reply has been that they do have a mechanism whereby people may request that certain images be removed from the system. Few complaints have been submitted. Yet, the question becomes where should the line be drawn between the public and private sphere?

Sure, I don't exactly want pictures of me singing in the shower spreading across cyberspace. But aside from a few unavoidable, and unfortunate images that may creep into the fabric of Google's vast gallery, the overwhelming aid that it provides cannot be ignored. Yes, this means more images of Monty the cat and bikini-clad beauties. But breaking down the world lot by lot puts the world literally at your fingertips. As the technology improves (see Microsoft's Virtual Earth, for example), the quality of the imagery will only become more invaluable. At least we have a legitimate excuse as land use professionals as to why we're spending our working hours spying on our neighbors. Not so much for the surfers seeking out the Stanford co-eds, and the man in San Francisco offering lap dances and other such entertainment to passersby.