Adding a Touch of Dutch to Eugene’s Streets

The Dutch are renowned for their innovative and forward-thinking approach to urban design, and consequently their livable, sustainable, and safe cities. Their urban spaces are frequently organized along woonerven (living streets), which prioritize cyclists and pedestrians over motorized traffic. The corresponding impact upon the morphology of urban environments and streetscapes in the Netherlands is profound. The prevalence of cycling contributes to aesthetically pleasing streetscapes and encourages mixed-use, compact development. The Dutch cycling lifestyle has become a model for other countries looking to promote sustainable and healthy transportation options and offers a blueprint for creating cities where cycling is not just a mode of transport but a way of life. 

The contrast with America’s car-centric mindset—and with it our unsustainable way of life, urban sprawl, and absence of walkable neighborhoods—could not be starker. A radical paradigm shift is necessary if U.S. cities are to become more sustainable, but helping people understand why prioritizing healthier modes of transportation and development patterns has proven challenging. 

The Netherlands Tourism Bureau has developed an AI app called Dutch Cycling Lifestyle that allows users to reimagine a street by replacing road space for cars with pedestrian pathways, bike lanes, street furniture, landscaping, and/or event-friendly spaces. The online app is accessible to anyone for free. You simply type in an address or select the GPS option to choose a location to be reimagined. The AI then uses Google Street View to create a “Dutch” version of the scene, with four different results produced. The idea is to provide users with a means to show what your own community would look like if planned with happier and healthier streets in mind. 

The app’s default is to entirely abolish accommodations for automobiles in favor of cobblestone-paved pedestrian pathways, tranquil bike lanes, and perfectly manicured plant beds bursting with vibrant colors and fragrant blooms. Every picture is worth a thousand words, which is certainly beneficial when it comes to sharing grand ideas. The more compelling and attractive these images appear, the higher the likelihood the ideas they illustrate might find traction. 

Here are some before and after examples of Eugene streetscapes I asked it to reimagine: 

Willamette Street near E. 26th Avenue, looking north.

Willamette Street reimagined.

West 11th Avenue near Seneca Road, looking west.

West 11th Avenue reimagined.

Chambers Street near W.17th Avenue, looking south.

Chambers Street reimagined.

I’m an advocate for AI imaging tools and their potential to help designers save time and effort, particularly when it comes to communicating concepts that are otherwise a challenge to effectively illustrate. That said, it’s clear the Dutch Cycling Lifestyle app is glitchy. Some of the results are positively bizarre, with wildly distorted perspectives that remind me of stills from the Paris-folding sequence in Christopher Nolan’s movie Inception (Indeed, the website includes a disclaimer that says “Seeing some unusual results? That’s because our AI is new here and he’s still learning.”) Additionally, the app translates images of Eugene low-density streetscapes into misleadingly pastoral tableaus that ignore realities confoundingly at odds with the emulation of Dutch-style development patterns. 

Unfortunately, the current shortcomings of Dutch Cycling Lifestyle undermine its utility. Playing with Dutch Cycling Lifestyle may be fun, but its practical value is extremely limited. It’s patently unrealistic to push a button and proclaim a solution to an urban design problem can be the result. Generating pretty pictures is far from enough. The challenge is vastly more complex, and the solutions are not facile. 

Changing a deeply ingrained cultural norm takes determined leadership and political will. Resistance from those who rely heavily on automobiles must be met with empathy and understanding. Incremental transformations in infrastructure and policy are necessary to shift a populace’s mindset. Such a shift will not happen overnight, but with concerted effort and a focus on the benefits of sustainable transportation, it will be possible to change the way people regard and use roadways in North America. Public opinion can and will evolve once the benefits of that change are evident.

The Boundless Dreams of a Kid

Calvin & Hobbes (most worshipfully borrowed from Bill Watterson for fair use).

I have always loved architecture. As a child, I discovered the work of Frank Lloyd Wright, and became utterly fascinated by the shapes, colors, and functions of all buildings. I spent countless hours drawing futuristic projects and planning entire cities teeming with skyscrapers. I dreamed of designing structures that would stand the test of time and inspire people. 

I did work hard and ultimately achieved my goal of becoming an architect. I studied diligently, gained valuable experience, and passed exams. Early on, I secured jobs with some prestigious firms and worked on notable and challenging projects. I have enjoyed a truly rewarding career and am proud of what I have accomplished and have been a part of. 

But sometimes, I do wonder about how things might have been different. What if I had followed another path? As kids are inclined to do, I often dreamed about leading an exciting—dare I say—glamorous grown-up life. Perhaps as a heroic spacefaring astronaut?  Or perhaps as an adventurous marine biologist, a dashing and determined fossil hunter, or a record-setting professional hockey player? What if I had pursued one (or more) of my other childhood passions? 

Astronaut Buzz Aldrin on the moon, July 1969 (photo by fellow astronaut Neil Armstrong).

Astronaut

I was born in the era of the space race. I grew up watching the Apollo moon missions on TV and reading about the adventures of the astronauts in magazines. I was amazed by their courage. They had the "right stuff." I wanted to be one of them. 

I imagined myself wearing a spacesuit and boarding a rocket. I experienced the thrill of liftoff and the surreal sensation of weightlessness once in orbit. I saw the Earth from above and the sparkling clarity of the stars suspended in the limitless blackness of space. I traveled to the Moon and Mars and distant galaxies beyond. 

I knew pursuing the dream of becoming an astronaut would not be an easy path. I knew it would take years of training, education, and physical fitness. The journey would be fraught with risks and sacrifices, but the allure of the cosmos was undeniable. 

Photo by NotBurtsBees, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Marine Biologist 

I was captivated by the ocean. I watched documentaries about the underwater world and its many exotic creatures. I was inspired by Jacques Cousteau and his expeditions on his research vessel, the Calypso. I wanted to be like him. 

I imagined myself diving under the waves with dolphins, sharks, whales, and more. I felt the wonder of discovering new species and habitats. I saw the beauty and diversity of coral reefs and kelp forests. I explored the depths and mysteries of the sea. 

I knew becoming a skilled marine biologist would be challenging. I knew it would require years of study, exhaustive research, and fieldwork. I knew it would involve challenges and dangers. But I also knew it would be immensely rewarding to help expand knowledge about the diversity and complexity of oceanic ecosystems. 

Paleontologist Paul Serrano (Photo by Oregon State University, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

Paleontologist

My fascination with Earth’s prehistoric past ran deep. I was spellbound by books on dinosaurs and their fossils. I was fascinated by the size, shape, and imagined behavior of such fantastic, long-extinct beasts. I wanted to be a paleontologist, a contributor to the understanding of the evolutionary history of life. 

I imagined myself wearing a safari hat while patiently digging in the dirt. I enjoyed the moment of excitement upon finding a fossilized bone, tooth, or footprint. I saw the history and evolution of life on Earth. I revealed ancient and extinct worlds. 

I knew becoming a paleontologist would not be a straightforward path. I knew it would require years of learning, analysis, peer-review, and publication. I knew it would demand patience and perseverance. But I also knew the study of ancient life would be gratifying beyond imagination.

(Photo by Keith Allison from Hanover, MD, USA, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

Professional Hockey Player

Like virtually every other boy growing up in Canada, I was passionate about hockey. It wasn’t merely a sport but a way of life. My brothers, friends, and I played hockey in the street every day after school. We would watch game after game on TV, while attending other must-see contests in person to cheer on my favorite team (the Vancouver Canucks). I wanted to be like the skilled and rugged players I followed as a young fan.

I imagined myself as a player in the National Hockey League, not unlike my childhood heroes: Gordie Howe, Jean Beliveau, Bobby Orr, Bobby Hull, and the other stars of the era. I felt the adrenaline of skating at full speed as I weaved among defenders and scored the game-winning goal. I saw the teamwork and strategy of the game. I was an ardent student of the skills and tactics of the sport.

I knew the path toward NHL stardom would not be an easy one. I knew it would require years of relentless practice, dedication, and raw talent. I knew it involved keen competition and the risk of injury. But the exhilaration of hockey at its highest level enthralled me. 

*    *    *    *    *    *

These were some of the dreams I had as a kid. They were not all realistic, but they were fun and inspiring. They showed me the possibilities of life and the power of imagination. They shaped my personality and values. They made me who I am today. 

I don't for even a moment regret choosing architecture as my profession. I love my career and I'm grateful for it. But I also won't forget the other paths I could have taken. I still enjoy learning about space, the oceans, dinosaurs, and watching hockey. I still imagine what it would be like to be an astronaut, a marine biologist, a paleontologist, or a professional hockey player. 

I think that's the beauty of being a kid. You can dream of anything and everything. You can be anything and everything. You can have boundless dreams.

 

Architecture is Awesome: #33 Happy Clients

This is another in my series of posts inspired by 1000 Awesome Things, the Webby Award-winning blog written by Neil Pasricha. The series is my meditation on the awesome reasons why I was and continue to be attracted to the art of architecture.

There are few things more rewarding for me as an architect than witnessing the genuine smiles and expressions of delight from clients and users upon first enjoying the projects my colleagues and I have had a hand in designing. For me, such an experience is affirmation our work has connected with people on a fundamental level. Their happiness is a powerful reminder of why we do what we do, the impacts we have on their lives, and the lasting imprint we leave on the built environment.

Happy clients are a testament to the commitment of the entire design team to fulfil dreams. Most every project is one of a kind; the challenge thus lies in giving physical form to the very unique needs of those dreams. Our clients task us with understanding their needs and desires and translating them into practical reality. If we have done our jobs well, we will have designed spaces that resonate with our clients, the population they will directly serve, and the community as a whole. Their happiness validates the effort and dedication we invest in our work.

The process of design is a blend of science and art, a dance between form and function. The spaces we design have a profound impact on the daily experiences of those who inhabit or use them, and when clients are happy, it means we achieved an appropriate balance for them between aesthetics and functionality. You can say architects are in the business of crafting happiness, one space at a time. Seeing the joy of happy clients not only provides us with a momentary high, but also is the fuel that drives us to continue moving forward, learn from our experiences, and become better architects.

Happy clients often return with stories about how our designs have changed their lives for the better, whether it is in terms of their well-being, productivity, or quality of life. We enjoy the privilege of knowing that we have contributed to their happiness. Their joy radiates outward, impacting communities, and even inspiring others to embark on their own journeys of design and creativity. Happy clients not only validate our past work but also pave the way for future success. They become trusted advocates, returning with new projects, and referring others.

Whether it’s a family excitedly seeing the first renderings of their new home, people of all ages enjoying a public space for the first time, or employees discovering they can be the best they can be thanks to their well-designed workspaces, those moments of interaction are when we know the value of our work truly shines. The happiness of our clients is an AWESOME reminder that architecture has the power to enhance lives and make a positive impact.

Next Architecture is Awesome: #34 Adaptive Reuse

Integrating Services and Environmental Control

Richards Medical Research Laboratories – Louis I. Kahn, Architect. The brick shafts on the periphery of the Richards labs hold stairwells and HVAC ducts, providing an effect reminiscent of the ancient towers of San Gimignano, Italy that Kahn admired. (photo by Smallbones)

Consistent throughout Bill Kleinsasser’s many iterations of his self-published textbook SYNTHESIS are his reminders about how the architects’ work reveals what they have considered and whether they have accounted for everything necessary to create good places for people. Certainly, the successful integration of the technical systems that support a building’s purpose is essential to a thorough consideration of its design. 

Neglecting to adequately account for and integrate these systems can lead to inefficient and problematic buildings. This neglect can be a result of a misalignment of priorities, poor communication among the members of the design team (architects and their engineers too often work in separate silos), or simply a lack of knowledge and experience on the part of the architects.
 
In the following, somewhat wanting excerpt from SYNTHESIS, Bill strove to succinctly express the importance of considering the needs of a building’s technical systems. In my opinion, Bill could and should have written more to expand upon the necessity of aligning aesthetics, spatial design, and fundamentally the project’s organizational structure with the technical demands of a building’s service and environmental control systems. He certainly could have utilized a case study to illustrate how exemplary projects successfully integrated a myriad of technical systems. Nevertheless, his fundamental premise is clear: Design synthesis requires consideration of many essential concerns if a building’s design is to be unified, eloquent, and complete.
 
Technical Systems
Select and design environmental control and other systems that will appropriately serve required spaces without waste or confusion by:

• Determining spatial intent and the kind of services needed.
• Selecting appropriate systems.
• Diagramming the essential disciplines of each system; that is, diagramming their controlling characteristics vis-à-vis organization of spaces.
• Integrating the requirements of the spatial system with the essential disciplines of the service/environmental control systems. Service/environmental control systems may include those for heating, cooling, ventilating, lighting, water supply, waste disposal, drainage, electrical service, communication (television, radio, TV, computer), special circulation (elevator, escalator), fire protection (sprinklers, smoke detection), and special laboratory services.

 *    *    *    *    *    *

As I’ve mentioned previously, Bill never hesitated to use the words of others to illuminate the frames of reference he defined as essential to the creation of truly good architecture. He included the following quotations from Louis Kahn in his fifth edition of SYNTHESIS to better convey the necessity of respecting the technical systems as organizational decisions are made:
 
“I do not like ducts, I do not like pipes. I hate them really thoroughly, but because I hate them so thoroughly, I feel they have to be given their place. If I just hated them and took no care, I think they would invade the building and completely destroy it. I want to correct any notion you may have that I am in love with that kind of thing.”
 
“CLIENT:  Well, now that we have the general form, we have to put in all the guts and see if we can fit them in.
 
ARCHITECT:  If they don’t all fit in easily and properly, then we have the wrong form.”
 
“Engineering is not one thing and design another. They must be one and the same thing.” (Louis I. Kahn)

The Challenge of Budget Constraints

Cost limitations are an almost universal challenge in construction projects. Owners typically have a predetermined budget for their project, so the realities of construction costs force them to make difficult decisions about project scope, quality, or even whether the project can proceed. To address cost limitations, owners may need to work closely with their architects and contractors to identify effective solutions.
 
While architects like to boast that creativity thrives within constraints and need not be compromised, my experience has taught me that successful cost management usually demands more than the architect alone can deliver. Open communication and collaboration between the owner, architect, and contractor from the project’s inception are clearly effective strategies for maximizing the value of construction projects. Consequently, the choice of project delivery method may be the single most impactful consideration influencing the outcome of a building project, particularly in terms of cost.
 
There are various project delivery methods in common usage today, each with its own advantages and disadvantages. The architect typically works closely with the owner to select the one that best aligns with the project budget and expectations.
 
Design-Bid-Build (DBB): In this traditional method, the architect completes the design before the project goes out for bid. While it provides a clear picture of the final design, it can be challenging to control costs once construction begins. The use of bid alternates—optional elements that can be added to or removed from the project—is a common practice for providing flexibility in the project pricing and decision-making processes. Including bid alternates means that some elements of the design are inherently uncertain until after bidding is complete.
 
Design-Build (DB): In the design-build approach, a single entity handles both design and construction, providing a “turnkey” service for the owner. This method can streamline the process but may limit the architect's control over the project's budget and design.
 
Construction Management (CM): Construction management involves hiring a construction manager to oversee the project. It can provide more control over costs and scheduling but requires architects to work closely with multiple parties. The CM often additionally functions as the General Contractor, in which instances the method is referred to as the CM/GC project delivery method.
 
Integrated Project Delivery (IPD): IPD promotes collaboration between all project stakeholders from the beginning and in its characteristic usage is applied on particularly large and complex projects with high sustainability goals. It can lead to better cost control and design outcomes but requires a high level of coordination.
 
According to a 2018 article in Construction Dive, design-bid-build remains the most widely used construction model; however, my anecdotal accounting suggests DB, CM, IPD and other alternative project delivery methods are since rapidly usurping the dominance of DBB.
 
The choice of which delivery method is best depends on a project’s specific needs and goals and requires a thorough understanding of the key attributes of the various methods. That said, design and construction are notoriously complex undertakings, more so with each passing year. Even seemingly modest projects can benefit from using DB, CM, or IPD instead of the conventional Design-Bid-Build process. This is particularly true when budget considerations are paramount.
 
Effective value engineering, risk assessment, regular cost monitoring, contingency planning, and transparency in financial matters and decisions likewise flourish when open communication and collaboration between owners, architects, and contractors exist. Regular and timely evaluation of a project’s scope and design help identify areas where cost savings can be achieved without compromising quality or safety. While not always effortless, such evaluations during the design process are far less painful than ones conducted only after a building’s plans are complete and the bid results are an unwelcome surprise.  
 
Value engineering is a systematic and creative approach to improving the value of a project by optimizing its design, materials, and construction methods. One of the challenges of value engineering is striking the right balance between cost savings and design integrity. Careful assessment of which elements of the design can be modified or substituted without compromising the project's overall vision is necessary. This can be a delicate and often frustrating process as it requires letting go of some design elements that may be personally meaningful or artistically important. Value engineering should not be a one-time event and it should allow for adjustments as new information becomes available or project circumstances change.
 
By working collaboratively, project teams mutually share their expertise. I have a tremendous amount of respect for what contractors bring to the table. Their knowledge and experience are invaluable to the design process, bolstering the argument in favor of one of the delivery methods that is inherently collaborative in nature. Architects (and many owners) tend to be dreamers and visionaries, so bringing contractors—as well as the owner’s facility manager and maintenance team—on board from the beginning injects an often sobering and necessary dose of reality into the design or value engineering processes.  

 

LCC Health Professions Building under construction (my photo)

A useful case study of a collaborative process is the new Lane Community College Health Professions Building, currently under construction. My firm, Robertson/Sherwood/Architects, is the executive architect, while Mahlum Architects is the lead design firm. Fortis Construction is the Construction Manager/General Contractor. From the outset, the 31,280 SF, 3-story project has been strapped by a tight budget. Addressing the cost limitation challenges has truly been a team effort. Fortis provided critical cost evaluation and constructability input throughout the design phase, which ultimately resulted in a solution that is necessarily lean yet fulfills all programmatic requirements. Once complete, the Health Professions Building will provide LCC with the facility it originally envisioned, a new campus gateway centered on equity and inclusion as core values for the college’s Medical Assistant, Dental Assisting, Dental Hygiene, and Emergency Medical Services programs.
 
The disappointments and design compromises that do result from budget constraints can be disheartening, but they are an inevitable part of the design and construction process. Ultimately, the goal is to strike a balance between creativity and fiscal responsibility. While cost limitations may necessitate concessions, they also present opportunities for innovative and collaborative problem-solving in the creation of designs that are both functional and budget friendly.