Gezi Just the Beginning

While researching my soon-to-be-published story on Istanbul and the global building boom, I came across three nuggets of research that intersect in fascinating ways, underscoring where we are today and pointing toward an angry urban future.

The first bit has been in the news of late, and perhaps on the minds of Turkey watchers. Looking at historical data, Jeremy Wallace, a political science professor at Ohio State University, found that urban population growth tends to undermine authoritarian regimes. The greater the level of urban concentration in a given country, the shorter the shelf life of the autocrats.

It’s a logical finding, highlighting how cities concentrate large masses of people, connect them via roads and transport, and help them progress up the socio-economic hierarchy, moving beyond survival to concerns about services and quality of life. Wallace also found that these autocratic governments seem to understand this, and thus lavish a great deal more attention on their big cities than their rural areas – which, ironically, tends to draw more people to those cities. He also unearthed particularly good news for Gezi protesters and other critics of Erdogan’s government: regimes in which a single city, usually the capital, dominates the urban landscape fall nearly four years sooner.

The second nugget comes from urban data researchers Geoffrey West and Luis Bettencourt of the Santa Fe Institute, who found that the bigger the city, the more efficient it becomes. It's an idea that turns Malthus' theories about over-crowding and pestilence on their head, and its largely been borne out.

West and Bettencourt argue that a city is an organism, and, just as an elephant needs only 1,000 times the energy of a guinea pig despite being 10,000 times its size, a 5-million-person city needs less to accomplish factors more than its 200-hundred-thousand-person brethren. As a city grows, in essence, its inhabitants become better at solving its problems.

Finally, we have Brad Werner, a complex systems analyst at the University of California-San Diego. Of late he has begun to argue that, due to the apparent futility of global environmental management, mass resistance could well be humanity’s best means of slowing the unchecked growth threatening to destabilize life on earth. Many scientists are of the opinion that ditching our current economic system – focused on global capitalism and urban development – may soon become necessary to our survival. But only Werner has gone the next step and argued that protest may be our only chance of saving the planet from ourselves.

Considered together, the three discoveries -- from a political scientist-slash-historian, a pair of data researchers and a systems analyst -- outline a 21st century truth. As cities have gotten bigger, their inhabitants have hit upon protest as the best, most efficient method of dealing with heavy-handed governments failing to see which way the wind blows.

What does it all mean for Istanbul, Beijing, Moscow and other big cities? Hard to say for sure; could be dark days ahead.

How Istanbul Found Its Melancholia: A Short Urban History

Unfortunately, our generation did not carry the valuable heritage that it inherited into the future. It may seem slightly extreme, but it was almost a betrayal. -- Recep Tayyip Erdogan, Aesthetic Cities conference, Istanbul, April 2013.

The story of Istanbul begins with the first storytellers. Greek settlers first dropped anchor at Chalcedon, on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, in 685 BC – though it may not have been the most promising locale. According to Greek lore, Byzas, a Megaran and the son of King Lisos, some years later asked the Oracle at Delphi where he should settle down and build his great city. He was given vague plans to look “opposite the land of the blind.”

Byzas sailed up the Aegean to where the Marmara Sea meets the Bosporus, spied Chalcedon and decided its settlers must have been blind to settle in a location so inferior to the one across the strait. There, on an acropolis surrounded by water on three sides – the Bosporus Strait to the east, the Golden Horn to the north and the Marmara Sea to the south – he founded Byzantium, in 657 BC.

Byzas secured his prize by building great stone walls around the promontory. The city flourished, taking advantage of the best natural harbor between the Atlantic and the Pacific and great incomes from trade, fishing and tariffs from boat traffic. All that lucre inspired Dionysian revelry among the people – “Byzantium makes all of her merchants drunkards,” the Athenian playwright Menander wrote – and a fetish for physical expressions of greatness.

In 196 AD, Roman emperor Septimius Severus expanded the city walls, erected a Hippodrome and laid a colonnaded Royal Path. Constantine the Great arrived in 324 and expanded the walls again. He also renamed the city in his name and built a forum, temples and palaces. A few decades later Theodosius built what came to be known as the Theodosian Walls, chunks of which remain standing today and are protected as UNESCO heritage sites.

The city stretched for miles, yet Istanbul had barely been born. Soon after Justinian dedicated the Hagia Sophia in 537, the great church was hailed as the architectural splendor of the world, inspiring jealousy in rival leaders. A thousand years later, when Sultan Mehmet II conquered Constantinople in 1453, he is said to have ridden directly to the Hagia Sophia and converted it into a mosque on the spot.

Mehmet II, known to Turks as Fatih (meaning “conqueror”), undertook the first of Istanbul’s many projects of urban regeneration, sprucing up the streets of the sagging capital and building the Fatih mosque complex, the origins of the Grand Bazaar, and Topkapi Palace, among other works.

The Ottoman era peaked in the mid-16th century during the rule of Suleiman the Magnificent, the longest-reigning sultan. He teamed with the famed Mimar Sinan (architect Sinan) to build Suleimaniye, still the city’s largest mosque and generally regarded as its most beautiful.

Sultan Ahmet I needed a dozen years to build the six-minaret Sultanahmet Mosque, also known as the Blue Mosque, and died a year after its dedication in 1616. Centuries of decline soon followed, during which the city’s center of gravity drifted across the Golden Horn, to Pera.

When Mustafa Kemal established the Republic of Turkey, in late 1923, he shifted the national capital, and the focus, to Ankara. Years later, just as he had embraced secularism and modernity for his country, he looked to the West to revive Istanbul and set it on a course for future greatness. In 1935, the French urban planner Henri Prost won a competition to devise a master plan for the city.

Prost, who had gained renown with his work in Fez, Marrakesh and Casablanca, re-envisioned Taksim as a central square with a broad green space. He demolished the Halil Pasha Barracks, which had been built in 1806 and turned into Taksim Stadium a century later, and remade the square. The Taksim we know today, complete with a monument to Ataturk and 30-acre Gezi Park, was completed in 1943.

By this time, a proud melancholy known as huzun had fallen over the city. “In Istanbul the remains of a glorious past and civilization are everywhere visible,” Nobel Prize-winning Turkish novelist Orhan Pamuk writes in his memoir, Istanbul. “No matter how ill-kept they are, no matter how neglected or hemmed in they are by concrete monstrosities, the great mosques and other monuments of the city…inflict heartache on all who live amongst them.”

How One Istanbul Filmmaker Foresaw the Gezi Protests

As summer winds down and the Turkish government warns of a “hot autumn” of protest, this seems a good time to look back at the roots of Gezi frustration and ahead to a remade political landscape.

One sunny summer day in Istanbul, a woman stood before an animated crowd of protesters, many holding placards denouncing their government’s heavy-handedness. “Against the forces that create divided and unsafe cities, against the usurpation of our right to the city and for the right to shape our city ourselves,” she said to the crowd, “we declare that we’ll stand united, moving beyond all our differences.”

This seems an apt mission statement for the three-week occupation of Gezi Park earlier this year, a happening hailed by many Turks as an unprecedented moment of unity -- when Islamists and nationalists, religious and ethnic minorities and football fans of all stripes stood together against their government.

But the woman, Cihan Baysal, spokesperson for Urban Movements Istanbul, was speaking not just a few months ago, when protests swelled in Istanbul and spilled across Turkey, but in the summer of 2010.

This is a scene from Ekumenopolis: City Without Limits, a 2011 documentary about the city’s problematic transformation that seems to capture an iconic Istanbul uprising that had yet to happen. “Maybe I smelled it or something,” says the filmmaker Imre Azem, sipping tea on a bright, humid day in a park along the Bosporus. “Maybe it was a feeling. I don’t know. But to me it was obvious once I did the research that these urban issues would become the centerpiece of a social movement.”

Born in Istanbul, Azem studied political science and French literature at Tulane University, in New Orleans, before moving to New York City to work for a magazine. In 2003, prodded by what he saw as the injustice of the US invasion of Iraq, he and a friend began making a documentary linking that war to Western colonialism in the region. “We didn’t finish the film, but we learned filmmaking,” said Azem. “I really got a taste for documentaries.”

He saved some money and moved back to Istanbul in 2007 to start work on a film critiquing the global economic system through the problems of Istanbul. He cast about for the right approach, working odd jobs for a couple years, until lightning struck in 2009.

“One day I was listening to the radio and heard a story about the third bridge,” said Azem, referring to the third bridge over the Bosporus, following the first two built in 1973 and 1988. “I had never heard any public discussion of this project, so I started researching it.”

The bridge, to be built near the northern, Black Sea end of the 19-mile-long Bosporus, had initially been proposed during the mid-90s mayoralty of Recep Tayyip Erdogan, who at the time said it would be “murder” to the city.

Istanbul planners agreed, pointing out that the construction area covers forests and water reservoirs the city needs to survive. But as prime minister, Erdogan has spearheaded the project, which began construction on May 29, a day before the Gezi protests exploded.

“Everybody I spoke to said it’s a disastrous project, and that no one is really looking at the effects,” Azem continued. “More importantly, I learned that this is actually part of a much bigger plan, a much broader vision for Istanbul that includes all the urban transformation issues, all these other mega-projects. So I decided to make the film about not just the third bridge, but about all this, making connections between these issues.”

The film opens with one shot after another of Istanbul’s vast, repetitive sprawl, as a narrator likens the 19th century modernization of cities in the West to 21st century urbanization in the developing world. Azem details the destruction of old Istanbul neighborhoods and the mostly failed relocation of their residents before widening his lens to consider the third bridge, other mega projects and the city’s recent economic history. The film makes a convincing argument that the current leadership has put Istanbul in peril.

"With the new convention centers, sports and cultural centers that we're building, we're preparing the way for a modern future on a historic foundation," Erdogan says in the film. "At the same time, we're investing to turn Istanbul into the financial center of the world."

Writing about Ekumenopolis last year, the Turkish daily Today’s Zaman called it “a remarkable cinematic effort,” that “is also one of the most socially and politically pertinent works of our times.”

That pertinence exploded into view this past spring, when a small protest to halt the uprooting of a few trees mushroomed into a movement. Azem was at Gezi Park from the first night, sleeping in a tent with a handful of activist friends.

Abetted by over-aggressive police and security forces, their little demonstration soon blossomed into a nationwide movement against the government. By July, six people had been killed, including a police officer, and thousands injured in the crackdown.

Yet as Azem well knows, local concern about Taksim had been brewing for some time. Starting in mid-2011, when the government announced its plan to remake Taksim Square, several movements emerged to protect the square and highlight urban issues in Istanbul, including Taksim Solidarity and Urban Movements Istanbul. One event in January 2012 even included a discussion at Gezi Park about how “Istanbul Claims its Right to the City.”

“Even as a person struggling for social rights, who made a film about this and had been involved in the struggle for five years, I didn’t expect such a huge response,” said Azem, who believes the political ground has shifted leading up to local elections next March. “The Gezi resistance has sent a message, not only to the AKP, but to the whole established political system. The message is that this system of parliamentary democracy is not representing the will of the people.”

City Life, Recreated in the Sky

by David Lepeska

for Atlantic Cities

Antony Wood has a Blade Runner-like vision of our urban future, with zigzag skybridges linking super-tall buildings and vast green parks dozens of stories above the ground. Yet, as architects and developers link all sorts of towers in Asian and Western cities, it's starting to sound less like science fiction than 21st century reality.

“When I started this, people thought I was crazy,” says Wood, who studied skybridges in his 2003 dissertation and is now the director of the Chicago-based Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat.

"If we're going to make tall buildings socially inclusive, the only way we're going to do that is to connect them at height."

Around the world, some 190,000 people are moving to cities every day, or more than five and a half million people each month. By 2050, some 70 percent of humanity will live in an urban setting, according to a recent United Nations white paper that sees a need for 10,000 new cities to house three billion new urban inhabitants.

“We've got to recognize that we inhabit a different world now,” says Wood, who's also an architecture professor at the Illinois Institute of Technology. “The scale of the problem ahead of us is far greater than the problems we've already faced. If we accept that cities are going to get denser, and thus more vertical, we need to rethink our cities.”

For Wood, that rethinking begins with a broader conception of the ground level, where social interaction takes place and communities are built. Way up above, skyscrapers are primarily office, residential and hotel space.

“That's not a city,” says Wood. “If we're going to make tall buildings socially inclusive, the only way we're going to do that is to connect them at height, to allow us to introduce public zones in the sky and recreate the ground layer.”

The idea is not new. In the 1940s, the French-Swiss architect and urban planner Le Corbusier proposed building bridges and public spaces at height. But his skybridges were built at one or two stories, in Brutalist concrete European highrises after WWII, and the concept soon fell out of favor.

Wood envisions a series of bridges at 30, 50, even 100 stories, improving access and circulation as part of a network of towers. A school on the 57th floor of a building, for instance, would work only if it linked to family residences, a playground, a library.

• • • • •

“If this sounds farfetched, we only need to look at Hong Kong,” says Wood.

In 1965, the developer HongKong Land built an enclosed, air-conditioned bridge over Chater Road to connect the shopping center at the base of its Prince's Building to guests at its new Mandarin Oriental Hotel. The move proved a commercial success, and HongKong Land soon expanded the concept to its other buildings across central Hong Kong.

Other developers followed suit, and within a couple decades the Hong Kong government unofficially adopted the skybridge network as a planning tool. Today, skybridge-linked HongKong Land buildings connect nearly half a million square meters of office and retail space and encompass a population of over 20,000 workers. “You can walk several miles through central Hong Kong without touching the ground, in shopping centers, office towers, hotels,” says Wood.

A more recent example is Singapore's Pinnacle@Duxton, a seven tower, 50-story public housing complex designed by ARC Studio Architecture + Urbanism and completed in December 2009. Skybridges at the 26th and 50th stories link all seven towers and 1,848 apartments.

The 26th story bridge is for residents only and has a recreation center, jogging track, outdoor gym, children's playground and two viewing decks. The 50th story skybridge is open to the public and offers panoramic views of the city. Both hold up to 1,000 people at a time.

A couple miles way, the Marina Bay Sands is said to be the world's most expensive hotel, costing a reported £4 billion. Designed by Moshe Safdie and completed in mid-2010, the hotel's three 55-story towers are topped by a rooftop SkyPark, which includes an infinity pool that seems to stretch on forever, sundecks, palm trees, gardens and a restaurant. At 340 meters, the SkyPark is longer than the Eiffel Tower is tall.

Linked Hybrid, a Beijing housing complex completed in 2009, has the look of a Philip K. Dick fever dream. Set amid vast reflecting pools, this 220,000 square-meter, eight-tower compound uses translucent glass bridges to connect 700 apartments, a hotel, shopping areas, a multiplex, a kindergarten and underground parking.

Steven Holl Partners designed it as “an open city within a city.” The Council on Tall Buildings chose it as its best tall building overall for 2009, arguing that the project embodies "where the future of tall buildings and urban cities is heading.”

That future has begun to appear in the West as well. The Telekom Center is a six-tower, skybridge-linked office complex on the outskirts of Munich, completed in 2004. Skyways and catwalks connect downtown buildings in Minneapolis, Atlanta, Calgary and other North American cities. And of the seven finalist proposals for the new World Trade Center in downtown New York City, five incorporated skybridges.

The design ultimately chosen did not, speaking to the real challenges that skybridges present. Since 9/11, tall buildings are seen as terrorist targets. Security, generally handled at a ground floor main entrance, becomes problematic when people are entering your building at several points, such as in central Hong Kong. The engineering is also difficult because skyscrapers need to be free to move slightly at the top. The skybridge connecting Kuala Lumpur's Petronas Towers at the 41st and 42nd floors, for instance, is not anchored to the buildings but rather designed to slide in and out and allow the towers to sway several feet in high winds.

Wood counters that skybridges “are the way to make our vertical cities more sustainable.” Networks of tall buildings have the potential to reduce our total energy consumption by sharing power and facilities between buildings and creating green corridors in the sky.

"This is not about sticking a few bridges in the sky," Wood says. "This is about building a three-dimensional city, where these zones in the sky become the responsibility of the city."

The Accidental DIY Developer

by David Lepeska

for Atlantic Cities

Earlier this month, Chicago artist Theaster Gates invited a couple dozen locals over for a soul food dinner at one of three South Side houses he's rehabbed with the help of friends and a good deal of recycled materials. Collectively known as the Dorchester Projects, the renovated spaces have sparked a minor cultural renaissance in the long-neglected Grand Crossing neighborhood and become Exhibit A in Gates' mini-empire of urban revitalization.

“The larger cultural community has become excited about Dorchester,” Gates says moments before his guests arrive, “and the dinner table becomes a way of not only connecting people socially but creating new opportunities between people where there's need.”

The 38-year-old Gates is a fast-rising artist, known for re-purposed sculptures and curated events that often reference black history and political engagement. His work appeared in the 2010 Whitney Biennial and, last year, in a 40 Under 40 show at a Smithsonian gallery. This year, he served as the commissioned artist for the Armory Show in New York.

He's also developed, almost by accident, an innovative, arts-focused model of redevelopment that's expanding across the Midwest.

The story begins in 2006, when Gates bought a derelict former candy store in Grand Crossing, just south of the University of Chicago, where he'd accepted a job to promote arts engagement with the local community. By the time he'd rehabbed the space and moved in a few years later, his career as an artist had taken off and the housing crisis had punched the low-income neighborhood in the nose.

Grand Crossing's population declined by more than 15 percent between 2000 to 2010, according to the latest census. But rather than leave, Gates tripled down, taking advantage of depressed prices to buy the dilapidated house next door, an adjacent lot and a duplex across the street. One house became an archive and library for thousands of architecture and design books as well as an artist residence.

Another became a cinema space and a third a music listening venue, with thousands of vinyl records. Gates organized live performances, summer programs for neighborhood youth and, this spring, a series of ritualized Soul Food Dinners, which are part of the Feast exhibition at the University of Chicago's Smart Museum.

To manage and maintain the Dorchester Projects, Gates created the Rebuild Foundation in 2010. A team of artists, architects, educators, developers and activists, Rebuild has since taken over and begun redeveloping nine buildings in distressed neighborhoods in Omaha, Detroit and St Louis. The completed spaces will include a soul food restaurant, a pottery studio and several artist and performance spaces, as well as residences.

Plenty of hybrid art spaces across the country, such as Machine Project in Los Angeles' Echo Park neighborhood, mix gallery shows with disparate events like cheese tastings and scientific experiments. But the Rebuild Foundation appears to be the only arts-centered, multi-city urban revitalization organization in the country. Gates, who holds a master's in ceramics, religious studies and urban planning from Iowa State, aims to disprove those who believe artists can't live and thrive in distressed neighborhoods like Grand Crossing.

Rebuild recently gained approval from the Chicago Housing Authority to transform a chunk of South Side public housing that's been vacant since 2006 into a 32-unit mixed-income community for artists (see top image). Just down the street from the Dorchester Projects, the redeveloped blocks would include a cultural center and shared studio and performance space.

At that dinner earlier this month, guests included writers, musicians, arts patrons, photographers, an anthropologist and an urban farmer. The menu – watermelon cocktails, fried frog legs, shrimp and grits, and chitlins, or sauteed pig intestines – had been put together by soul food expert Ericka Dudley and Michael Kornick, who owns MK Restaurant and has been called “one of Chicago's true culinary masters” by Esquire magazine.

“We have the power, with our collective brains, with our collective talents, our shared interests and our fiscal and thoughtful resources, to change a place,” Gates told his guests as dessert teacakes were served, “and I'm intentionally doing that here.”

Moments later, as wine glasses were emptied and goodnight embraces shared, Kornick and his wife Lisa announced that they planned to open a new restaurant and cooking school in the neighborhood.




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originally ran March 26, 2012 at http://www.theatlanticcities.com/arts-and-lifestyle/2012/03/accidental-diy-developer/1581/