Tale of Three Neighborhoods

I've lived in Brookline for twenty years this year. That's longer than any other place I've ever lived, even my home town. During that time, I've inhabited three different abodes, each with its own unique character. But what has really made an impression on me is how different the daily experience of my neighborhood has been in these three places. This, in turn has got me wondering what it is about these three different settings that should make for such different realities. After all they were all in the same town, and in terms of the physical characteristics of my space (some variation on the one or two bedroom condo) they aren't all that different from one another, and yet, there are so many differences when it comes to the feel and tone and pace of life. From the daily rhythm of my neighbors and their patterns of behavior, or the noises I hear, such as the amount of bird song I notice, to the amount of traffic on the streets, all are drastically different.

My first place was a two-bedroom condo in a 1920's courtyard building we rented on Washington St., right next to the amazingly preserved Victorian "gingerbread" house, just up from the intersection of School/Cypress. This location had lots of advantages. It was equidistant to the Village and Coolidge Corner, and the Library was so convenient. My T stop of choice was Brookline Hills, accessed via a pleasant walk through the charming residential neighborhood off of Greenough. I loved watching the ever changing porch displays of window boxes, front yard gardens, flags, etc. as the season warmed. It was a nice way to start and end the day. The courtyard had a nicely overgrown archway entrance that gave it a bit of separation from the too busy Washington St., which we soon learned carried almost all of the firetrucks dispatched in town. One night several of them came to our place as the carriage house behind our building that had been the store house for unlimited junk for too many years burned to the ground, taking our car, which was parked near it, with with. That was the same night of the big fire on White Place. I got to witness first hand our famed "top notch" services, and was grateful for the fine work of our fire department.

But as for neighborhood feel, I have to say, the court yard building itself and the other adjacent buildings, just did not have it. We knew our immediate neighbors in our building, but did not see many people coming or going. Because of this we did not often have the opportunity to stop and chat, that all-important casual encounter that slowly builds ties in more cohesive neighborhoods. Our park of choice was of course Emerson, which on a hot summer night was a favorite haunt after getting a frozen fruit Popsicle at the very convenient convenience store at Cypress/Washington. While our unit was deep within the U of the court yard, we did still hear the constant stream of cars on Washington that did not still until late at night. Being next to the Victorian house meant that we had a beautiful display of maple leaves filtering the sunlight into our kitchen and mitigating the pavement out front. It was a comfortable and pleasant place, like many buildings of its era, with the small tile in the entry way and solid marble steps.

People did not loiter on the sidewalk out front though, and I think this must have been because of the traffic. Maybe visiting both the Village and Coolidge Corner dissipated our loyalties and we did not build up that same kind of familiarity one has going to the same places on a more regular basis. We lived here four years, as we saved for that all important purchase, our condo.

Shopping for a condo in Brookline, is of course an education. We looked at dozens of places. We had become sensitive to those "neighborhood" issues and would go back at night to check the noise level, etc. Of course you never really can tell until you move in...but you do start to look and pay attention, and you can never find that one perfect place, as you have to choose from what's out there when you are looking. But we took our time and ended up buying a place at the corner of Beaconsfield and Dean Rd. This place "had it all" actually more than we were looking for. A roof deck, a fire place, a balcony, an elevator (for only 4 floors!) and a garage, with automatic door opener and direct access to the building. The building had been rebuilt to replace the one that had been destroyed in a gas explosion in 1985, hence all the modern amenities, and no gas. Across the street was the Jean B. Waldstein park. The best feature of which was the laughter of the children sledding in the winter that would float up to our window, the sunset through the majestic trees were a treat too. The T access was to die for and the car simply sat in the garage. The Star Market was a two minute walk, the rest of Washington Square not much further. I often took walks on Fisher Hill, I felt the remains of the Longyear museums' formal garden were my secret sanctuary before the condos came. Oddly enough, no one else did. One day I was shopping for a present for my Dad at a flashy gift store at the Atrium Mall and the woman behind the counter said "You're the woman who I see walking in my neighborhood!" That's how unusual my activity was I guess. I was rather persistent and did not let bad weather deter me. I subscribe to the dictum that there is no inclement weather, just inappropriate clothing choices.

I relate this anecdote to illustrate some features of this neighborhood. While I loved having the Park across the street, this park was mostly an activity park and I did not find myself hanging out there much. There were plenty of ball games, tennis, dog runs, etc. but its steep slope down into it and lack of welcoming seating areas did not create good gathering spaces. So in this regard, it did not seem to help create a cohesive neighborhood spot. While obviously some people walked to Washington Square, etc. the foot traffic seemed confined to Beacon St. Again there was not much loitering on the sidewalk. I took it upon myself to plant some planters to grace our buildings' front door and while I was out there doing that, plenty of people stopped to chat. But our building didn't have a stoop and people didn't really sit out there or spend time out on the sidewalk. If we had a porch or stoop, that would have made a big difference. The other conclusion is most people will not walk somewhere, just to go for a walk the way I did. Dog walkers do, and they often have a social interaction pattern of their own. But for everyone else, they need to be going somewhere or doing something. Without those draws, you won't get life on the streets. Our nearest gathering spots were in Washington Square. So, as much as I found many things to enjoy at this location, I did not have a strong sense of living or identifying with "a neighborhood".

My third spot, where I live now is on Browne Street. Once again I am in a U shaped courtyard building. Our courtyard is big, with beautiful 100 year old maple trees, and it takes a few moments to traverse the walkway from the sidewalk to my front door. This simple fact often brings me in contact with my neighbors. They are out of their cars, even if they have just parked out front. There is a walkway that is protected from traffic and is comfortable to stop and chat on. The people living in this building are welcoming. Is it a self-selecting phenomena? or just a function of the fact that the design of the building allows us the chance to get to know one another in an easy, casual way? Across the street is Winthrop Square park, containing the Minot Rose Garden and a children's play area. A constant stream of people, mostly mothers and children during the day and elderly in the afternoon flow to this place the minute the weather even nears 50 degrees. BU students stop as they pass on St. Paul St. On the weekends when the roses are in bloom the place is packed. Here I see an amazing mix of people chatting to each other or just sharing the space together. The ethnic and cultural diversity in this neck of the woods is pretty amazing. This is a well used park and a true meeting place for the neighborhood.

Browne Street itself doesn't carry much traffic, as it is short and very local access only. So, in terms of traffic noise, this is by far the quietest place I have lived. The birds in the tree outside by window wake me up. The quite street helps make the sidewalks the kind of place you want to stop on, so when you see your neighbor, you feel comfortable spending a few minutes catching up. And here is the biggest difference. There are lots of people out walking on the sidewalks! We all have somewhere to walk to, namely Coolidge Corner or the park or library and there are enough of us that there is some kind of critical mass. The routes we take are pretty predictable too, so this enhances the chance of us seeing each other. So, here, I do feel I live in a neighborhood, this place has achieved that illusive definition.

What's Wrong with this Building?

A new structure has become part of our streetscape. 1285 Beacon Street, next to the Post Office is a two story structure with 21,000 sq. ft. of retail space. On the first floor is Staples. We are unable to miss the identity of this tenant, as the ubiquitous red and white glowing Staples logo/sign and its equally constant companion Copy and Print Shop signs are firmly affixed to the buildings' facade. I won't get into the wisdom of the Staples corporate logic in choosing their locations other than to say, in my estimation there were already two other Staples within walking distance from my abode... Above the Staples will be a healthclub. Below the building, 49 parking spaces will allow those who wish to, to drive right to their destination and park, in defiance of the sites' location, within steps of the T and surrounded by dense residential neighborhoods.

But, parking and the chain storification of Coolidge Corner are surprisingly not the subject of this blog. What I find most disquieting is the building itself and its designs' utter lack of sensitivity to either the context of its setting and its down-right hostile pedestrian interface. Let's first look at how the building "fits" with its neighbors. Beacon Street as a whole is on the National Register of Historic Places. This has of course not saved us from getting some monster buildings in the past, but it highlights the fact that the corridor's history has a story to tell about how Brookline came to be built the way it is and how, in its architecture we can read the progression of taste and lifestyles through exemplary examples of housing types built to be the best. This should at least cause an architect designing a new building destined to reside here to be thoughtful and considerate of context.

It is hard to see any evidence of that thoughtfulness in this building. It appears instead to be some sort of amalgam of 60's fads, with the geometric angles formed by the triangular window with a wedge of black polished granite and 1920's art moderne represented with the rounded window on the end of the building, metal window casings and the flush mounted "art decoesque" light fixtures. The yellow rough stone seems to be chosen to contrast with the smoothness of the granite, but is an uninviting material in and of itself. The roof is flat and there is no detailing or ornament happening at the roof line. Over all it looks as if it were designed to look good from across the street as you drive by, with no regard to the traditional red brick, gabled entrance structure of the post office next door, or the predominate style of architecture on Beacon Street as a whole, the bowed front townhouse made with red brick or stone. Next door, across Charles Street, is the beautiful Elizabeth P. Sears house a Colonial Revival built in 1889. Now, of course one would not expect this new building to mimic or reconcile all these divergent and powerful influences. But surely, with just a minimum of restraint and effort, a structure could have been designed that would have been both distinctive and harmonious.

But I concede that my comments so far are to some extent matters of taste, and perhaps there are those of you who love this new building! After all we do already have a jumble of styles going on and is some cases it actually works.

What I find most unsettling is the experience of walking past the building. Every building creates the public space around it. Here is where this building has failed its Beacon Street mission miserably. The smooth shiny solid granite slabs, forming a sharp angle (see photo above) as you approach from the west are nothing but hard and cold. There is no detail to attract your eye. It is an expanse of stone. The scale of the windows and granite "accents" is all wrong. It was designed for a distant viewer only, not someone walking by. Then there is the matter of the doors and windows. The first door is recessed, which makes it much more inviting, but the other door further down the building is not and therefore functions more like a window. The windows are too high off the ground to begin with. Because of the declining grade of the street, by the time you reach the end of the building the windows are very high. You are eye level with the window sill, with nothing but a rough stone wall with a fire hose connection pressing in on you. The cold hard materials of the building are overwhelming your experience.

All of these details may seem small. But the effect they have on how we relate to the building and its contents are profound. How comfortable are we standing on the street window-shopping? Do we feel welcomed or threatened. Does the store and its merchandise reach out to us and communicate with us as we pass, creating a feeling of community? These are basic biological responses.

Now is we compare these features with the features of those buildings elsewhere in Coolidge Corner we identify the significant differences. Just what is it about the design of the shops along Harvard Street or elsewhere on Beacon Street that make it so pleasurable to walk along the sidewalk to window shop, see friends, shop, etc.? Look at the pictures of Paper Source and the portion of Harvard Street north of the Arcade above. In both of these cases and throughout the district shop windows are positioned low, not more than 1 to 2 ft above the ground. Doorways are recessed and frequent, making the entrances easily identifiable and increasing the display area for the store. A pleasing rhythm or "articulation" of the building frontage is created, and even if the store itself is large, frequently recessed doors helps break-up the frontage wall, maintaining this visual and spatial rhythm. The awnings add a nice softening touch too, and help shops express identity. We are fortunate to have inherited these older buildings in their setting of a tightly woven street grid.

If we implemented a few basic building guidelines, our new structures could continue to create the inviting and visually stimulating human scaled shopping area we enjoy elsewhere in Coolidge Corner. We could prevent another building with the types of problems we see at 1285 Beacon Street from occurring again in the future. For instance, by specifying the maximum height that store front windows should be located off the sidewalk, (for instance 12" - 24"), requiring entryways to be recessed by at least 2 ft. and specifying that recessed doorways would occur approximately every 20 ft. new buildings would have those key features that are all important to creating the look and feel of a pleasing walkable shopping district. Build-to lines would maintain a consistent building frontage line and height maximums would ensure a human scaled proportion between building and street. Perhaps we would include specifications about window proportions and dimensions to avoid the problems of scale we see at 1285.

These types of prescriptive requirements would be welcome by both those designing the buildings and those reviewing those designs. It is all clear. We know what we want and the developer knows what we want, so they do not need to dread the never ending process of vague objections.

These types of ordinances are called form-based codes because they focus on the form of the building rather than just the use and basic mass of a building as traditional zoning does. This is in recognition of the fact that the form of the built environment creates our shared public realm. This is a seismic shift in how we regulate building and is a valuable tool that helps us create human-centered environments. If we wish to build a better Brookline, we should consider adopting this type of building ordinance.

[where: 02446]

Logical Conclusion of Parking Regulations not Logical

I know what you are thinking, here we go again with the parking! But the truth of the matter is that the parking requirements that are incorporated into our zoning ordinance are just as influential as the building size and use requirements in determining what kind of development we will end up with. In addition, the method of applying the standards and reviewing each parcel and building proposal in isolation, treating it as if it were it's own universe yields a disjointed and dysfunctional public realm. But back to the subject at hand. The parking requirements.

Each requirement taken in isolation may seem reasonable, but the effects are profound and far reaching. For an area like Coolidge Corner we have to ask ourselves what kind of place are we trying to build? The standards we have set are more suitable for the suburbs. They are the norm and have been adopted throughout the land, and we can see the results. The building in isolation surrounded by a sea of parking. These regulations are based on a standard number of automobile trips that are "drawn" to a certain type of building, this is known as Trip Generation and is based on all kinds of science. Build an office out in the suburbs and a certain number of cars will come and go on a given day because the people working there have no other way to get there! It is fairly easy to predict then, based on the size of the building, how many auto trips will come and go. From there we can come up with a formula for a minimum number of parking spaces per a unit of building square footage, and voila a parking requirement.

By requiring developers to provide on-site parking for every new building, be it housing, office or commercial we are subsidizing and encouraging driving and increasing the costs to both build and ultimately occupy those homes and businesses. In an area rich in alternative transportation options this makes no sense. Those in need of affordable housing and small businesses looking for affordable rents could benefit from the infrastructure expenditure savings realized through a relaxation of excessive on-site parking requirements. In terms of the affordable housing household the savings are two fold. The unit is cheaper because they aren't buying an amenity they do not need (excess parking) and because they are living within close proximity of transit they need not spend such a large portion of their income on automobile costs.

In addition to the cost savings the benefits to the environment, both in terms of reduced pollution and energy savings and the livability of a humanly oriented public realm cannot be overstated. By reducing the pervasiveness of the automobile in our environment we remove a huge source of stress for the pedestrian. Citizens are coming to realize the joys of mingling with others in a relaxed public setting. This increased awareness has spread through the growing publicity surrounding the many successfully created public spaces in cities and towns around the globe. Brookline has the perfect setting for creating such a place and those who are raising their voices to demand such a place are speaking for future generations and the public in general.

This is not an either or proposition. There will still be people who will need to drive to Coolidge Corner. However, we need to plan for parking for the area as a whole and not force each parcel to provide on-site parking. This destroys the economics and walkability of our core commercial district. Lets see if we can't get a little more creative. We should do everything we can to make walking, taking the T and biking attractive fun and convenient. We should not subsidize and encourage driving. We should not destroy the street scape and pedestrian environment just to accommodate the automobile.

Until we come to grips with the ramifications of our unacquainted parking requirements. The reason we have heard of only one development proposal for the Centre Street parking lot, a nine story hotel, is because a hotel has a much lower on-site parking requirement than does commercial, office or residential uses. And still it must be completely out of scale (9 stories tall) in order to be economically viable. Do we really want to sacrifice the benefits to our community that other, more locally usable commercial establishments or affordable housing might bring, just to meet an outdated, inappropriate parking standard?
[where:Brookline, MA 02446]

Too Much Litter

The leaves are off the trees and bushes. There is no blanket of clean white snow. In this naked state, an unwanted undergrowth has become more apparent, our sidewalks and streets are strewn with garbage. This is not an issue like global warming that causes us to ponder major policy initiatives or the far distant future. Yet, the sight of all this litter has a profound impact on our psyches and its presence reveals a troubling lack of civility.

One day, shortly after my husband and I first moved to Brookline in 1988, we were standing on the corner of School and Washington Streets waiting for the light to change, when a trio of young people sauntered down the sidewalk and proceeded to drop the paper boxes and wrappers from their convenience store purchases onto the sidewalk, about 10 ft. away from us. Not being inclined to tolerate such behavior, my husband said, "Hey, you dropped something!" The litterers response was, "What's it to you, this isn't your yard or something", to which my husband replied, "No, but it's my sidewalk and it is yours too, do you just drop your trash in the middle of the floor at home?" Eventually, the dour youths picked up their trash. I don't recommend confronting people in this way, it can be dangerous, but I have to admit there is a certain satisfaction in calling people on their bad behavior.

This encounter illustrated an attitude that I simply couldn't understand, but, it explained their careless behavior. This sidewalk was a no man's land, it didn't belong to anybody and therefore was theirs to exploit. Of course the truth is just the opposite, the sidewalk belongs to everyone and therefore trashing it was an affront to the entire community.

During my college years I worked for a summer at an amusement park as a "sweeperette". I walked the paths with a dainty broom and dustpan cleaning up dropped trash. I was stunned and saddened by the continuous act of dropping trash. A fellow worker explained that for a lot of the patrons this was their only vacation and perhaps they felt entitled to be "lord of the manner" for a day. This piggish behavior made us so jaded that by the end of the summer the patrons were no longer guests, they were "the animals".

Back on our home turf, the littering attitude seems to spring from one of entitlement. Kind of like the way people drive. The rules are for everyone else, but I'm more important and can't be bothered. The result is a rag tag looking environment that reflects a lack of care and pride.

I have lived in several different states and visited many cities around the country and I must say the litter problem seems worse here. Granted, it is somewhat a factor of density, and it only takes a tiny fraction of the population to have a big impact, but I've been to many dense urban areas that are much cleaner. What has brought about this state of affairs? Is it simply the lack of a public awareness campaign? Enforcement would be nice, but of course there are other, more pressing priorities. Adults looking the other way or even condoning this behavior? I love Michael Dukakis for picking up trash along the Riverway. This is the practical response. Don't like the trash you see? Pick it up. I am constantly picking up trash in and around the Minot Rose Garden which I help tend, but I shouldn't have to. There are plenty of frequently emptied trash containers.

I propose that all junior and senior high school students should participate in annual clean-up days, going around picking up litter to instill in them the idea that we all are responsible for keeping Brookline tidy. Just think about how much nicer the town would look without all those plastic cups, bags and papers lodged at the base of bushes or alongside the sidewalks.