Overall Impressions
MARISA ANGELL BROWN
Overview
1959: the U.S. is deep into the Cold War and the Space Race and Fidel Castro and Soviet Premier Nikita Kruschev dominate the news. Dwight D. Eisenhower is President, Alaska and Hawaii both become states, the Barbie doll is unveiled at the American Toy Fair, Frank Lloyd Wright dies and later in the year, one of his last completed projects, the Guggenheim Museum, opens to critical acclaim in New York.
Poster promoting The Race to Space (1959)
The first Barbie doll, 1959
Frank Lloyd Wright’s Guggenheim Museum (completed 1959)
In the art world, things are in flux as the action painting of Abstract Expressionism starts to give way to the wry and colorful commercial critique of Pop Art. So much seems to be in flux: our country’s laws and attitudes about race and about gender, about the city and the vast new suburban landscape, and about the perceived poles of capitalism and what was then felt to be its only alternative, red socialism. Maybe in hindsight all eras appear to have been in flux; but for many reasons, 1959 and the few years to the left and right of it represent a time of uncertainty about America’s place in the world order and about our national and cultural identity.
Many of these issues played out in “urban renewal” projects of the 1950s and 1960s, in which federal funds could be used by cities to acquire and obliterate neighborhoods perceived to be “slums,” then hand them over to private developers who would construct middle-income housing, shopping centers, office towers or public/cultural complexes like Lincoln Center in New York, ultimately moving the (black or immigrant) poor out and the (white) middle-class in. Although many of the panels in the College Hill Study look to our eyes today like modernism run amok, for their time they were unusually preservation-minded. When these panels were drawn, nearby New Haven and Boston were in the midst of bulldozing historic residential neighborhoods in their entirety, leaving scars in the landscape of both cities that are still felt keenly today.
New Haven in 1959, showing the obliteration of an historic Jewish and Irish immigrant neighborhood to make way for the Oak Street Connector, displacing 880 families and clearing 350 buildings.
The West End of Boston ca. 1920, razed in “urban renewal” of this neighborhood in the late 1950s.
COLLETTE CREPPELL
How remarkable is this vision and how compelling are these dozen images. A demonstration project, indeed: demonstrating the co-existence of preservation and of an embrace of modernism. The skyscraper figures prominently in this vision. It serves as an aspirational symbol, rising from the historic urban fabric of College Hill.
What is rare about this vision is the marrying of the International Style of the architecture suggested in these renderings—a style named to be decidedly not of a specific place—with a highly specific context of College Hill, its specific topography, its specific urban scale of block and massing, its specific historic architectural fabric. International style embraces a local urban context.
There is much to learn from the ambition of the City of Providence through its planning and preservation voices. Applying for the federal grant for this demonstration project and shaping the study reflects love of the historic urban fabric and a belief in the future of new ideas.
DAVID BRUSSAT
It is evident that the survey embraced conventional wisdom of the period that has been superseded by the successful rehabilitation of so many old houses and other buildings in the survey area. For years, my colleagues at the Journal would twit me for constantly crediting Antoinette Downing - a consultant to the plan - instead of Happy Chace for the leverage of private investment that preserved College Hill on a house-by-house basis after the survey’s complicated and insensitive recommendations had failed to attract private investment. I believe both women were instrumental in achieving the success. In short, the result reflects the advantages of a more natural approach over a government-led approach based more on ideology than on proven effectiveness. To be even more brief, it reflects the advantages of traditional design over modernist design.
RAYMOND TWO HAWKS WATSON
My uncle used to live in University Heights. He had housing there, probably until its clearance. Having been in Mount Hope for the last 10 years, and having known people that went through that whole situation, I know it[urban renewal] caused a lot of division and a lot of poverty. To see that this is what they planned to do to the entire neighborhood, my stomach says "thank you!" to whoever told them not to.
We were also discussing these things[triple deckers] that, at the time, were seen as so useless and easily removable. Now, they're seen as the crème de la crème; we're trying to almost get back to, in a sense. This tells me that, at any point in our history, we have to be mindful of how our actions are going to impact the future, and keep in mind that perhaps we're wrong. Perhaps, even though I feel strongly about something, I should take a second and just re-examine. Those are my initial thoughts, but that’s the planner in me speaking. I suppose if I were an architect, this would be a very nice looking place - trying to be cutting-edge and be at the forefront. I suppose you could argue that there’s a very good mix of modern and traditional landscape, and we're making sure to preserve the buildings that are the most valuable. I could see that, but the planner in me just says, "what about the people?"
I imagine I would be part of those concerned citizens when Brown started to break stuff down. Although, I think I would probably have suggested some different elements to be included in the College Hill Study. When I hear the term "College Hill Study," I don’t here Mount Hope. One of the main things my mentor in grad school taught me was, “who is your client?” That’s what I would be asking. When you look at these panels, you think, "that’s not my family who was able to go on that veranda, that’s not for my people." So, who are they building these for? If they’re going to build a knife-edge glass panel tower, I imagine you’re working with people with some resources; people who can make that happen if you pitch it. If you don’t think that’s possible, you don’t pitch something of that scale. When I saw the other panel with the private walkway, I’m thinking, "ok, that’s probably not for the people in that neighborhood."
So, how can we apply this lesson today, especially when we have gentrification going on? Once again, there’s people living in these areas. If we're not just demolishing them, what is the impact of restoring them? I’m always in favor of looking for areas to pursue new policy initiatives that might be beneficial to both sides. I know there’s some tension going on with a building over on the south side and the hospital wants to knock it down. The Preservation Society is in favor of restoring it, and I spoke to some people in the neighborhood who are also in favor of restoring it. But then, of course, the concern is if it is restored and saved, how does that effect property values around it? So, maybe there’s room for collaboration in some regard.
I’m not one of the individuals that is like, "that was wrong; you shouldn’t have done that." But of course, that was wrong and they shouldn’t have done that. How do we take that lesson and impact challenges we face today? That would ideally be my hope for anyone who viewed these panels. Have them explore the concerns of the individuals who live in areas like University Heights. A lot of families that were living in that area got pushed over to the south side. What's going on in Mount Hope and those communities today is directly a result of those youths not understanding the connection they had to this neighborhood. Now, two and three generations later, those are just strangers to you. It’s a lot easier mentally to justify negative behavior and actions. Even that impact can, in many ways, be tied back to this very nice-looking plan.
I think that is always something that has to be kept in mind when we're doing beautification projects. With planning, you need to know how the neighborhood functions. For example, in New York, with high rise housing that was meant to look clean and pristine. If you just put all these poor people into the high rise, it looks ok, but you reinforce in their minds that poverty is what it is: that this is just how life is. This is how we interact with this type of lifestyle, and this is how we value ourselves as a result. What is the economic impact to the community around it when people value themselves like that?
So, from an economic standpoint, this is not the thing to do, though it’s very visually appealing. They need to think about the people who live in the community. I mean, I would love to have grown up in a place where there’s space to walk my dog and fly a kite. If we can figure that out for the people who live there, I’m with it 200%.
LAURIE VOLK & TODD ZIMMERMAN
One just doesn’t want to say anything unkind about William Warner. Too bad Lovecraft made “I am Providence” claim first because Warner’s work makes a pretty strong case: From the preservation and enhancement of the Manchester Street Station and its iconic smokestacks to the wholesale remaking of the city’s riverfront.
Looking at his work in 1959, when he was just 30, we’re reminded that we would hate to be judged on our own youthful enthusiasms.