Religious Pluralism: The Problem with New Urbanism

By now everyone should be fully steeped in the Katz / Duany-Plyter-Zyberk theory of New Urbanism. As a refresher: cities (qua neighborhoods) should be built as unified entities that emphasize the pedestrian way, promote interactions between neighbors, and locate services at a density and distribution where people can meet most of their daily needs on foot. I, personally, think this is a great idea. I’m also pretty sure that even if built it will rather quickly unbuild itself. Architecturally, I think the lights of NU are dead on. It’s their economics that I have a problem with.

Back in design school, my equally theoretical roommate came across The Church Problem in a Harvard Design Journal. It runs like this:
Let’s say that we’ve done the right thing and built neighborhoods that distribute services throughout neighborhoods evenly. There are no large concentrations of shopping, or offices, or any of the parking-lot seas of blight that long-distance personal transportation tends to bring about. Each entity is sized to serve a catchment area of those who (at a relatively high housing density) live a reasonable walking distance away. Think pre-auto France, or the older parts of Chicago. The idea seems to work, much like both of those places, as long as everyone’s Catholic (or Anglican, or what have you.) Otherwise you have three choices: 1) Concentrate every necessary religious sect in every neighborhood, ramping up staffing levels and church-to-everything-else ratios to something never before seen. 2) Concentrate the various religions into their own ghettos – the Muslim ghetto, the Ba’hai ghetto, etc. (Which, of course, is what traditionally happened.) 3) Pull that part of life off of the grid and make it either a very long transit ride, or the one thing you need a car for. Thus The Church Problem.

Beyond the issue of segregation, this highlights one of the big reasons that folks left traditional urbanism in the first place: Choice. Stretching beyond Sabbath Services, how can the hyper-efficient form of capitalist competition work if you can’t reasonably leave a business and go somewhere else? Would modern Americans be satisfied with the option of one supermarket? What if you’re the only one in the neighborhood willing to pay for Camembert – or worse the only one not able to pay a premium for things? [see food below] I’m not saying that assortment and limitation don’t happen in hyper-distant auto cities, but this is a problem that I have yet to see the New Urbanist advocates adequately address. Choice.

If we limit our transportation, how do we not limit our choice, and how willing would the average person be to give some of that up?

Coda: Choice without high-speed transportation is possible, but usually at Manhattan densities. That kind of city isn’t even under discussion, and certainly not built from scratch.

Caffeine High

This month the legendary Caffeine Theatre did Dona Rosita by Lorca / Svich in the attic of the Athenaeum in Chicago. More than well worth the fifteen bucks. Bridget Dehl is an amazing actress. So much so that it should really be billed as “Bridget and Cast.” Despite whatever else was going on, she could always pull me in to the illusion, whether playing forty or sixty.

The work is a tour of styles and moods, riding on the train of a teenage romance that extends into a protracted long-distance relationship ending (as they all do) in betrayal. Apparently written by a poet, it’s at its most believable when sticking to prose, as the odd transitions into rhyming couplets left me scratching my head. Some of the prose (a credit to the translator) reaches that wonderful self-aware wit of the very best of theater, especially in the ensemble scenes at the center of the piece.

Jennifer Shook appears to have some idea how to direct. Beyond kudos for just finding this script, the blocking and timing is adequate at its worst, and absolutely inspired at its best; most notably in the large scene with the visiting spinsters that has the polished beat-and-rest of being rehearsed hundreds of times. Surprisingly, things are at their strongest in the complicated scenes and, not at all surprising, whenever Ms. Dehl is involved, but even the bizarre transition into a musical at the end of the first act seems to come off. I kind of took issue with the handrail-as-keyboard (there are other props on stage,) but that’s a small glitch in an otherwise purring machine.

It’s a shame that the total cast couldn’t keep up with the high bar set my Mmes Dahl and Shook. Lisa Mauch deserves credit for bringing enthusiasm and an unqualified good will to the Housekeeper, but still was enough over-the-top to make those of us outside the fourth wall wince. There is no such ambivalence in Stacy Magerkurth’s widow – just an already over-the-top role taken to a level of over-the-top that almost made me begin to doubt the believability of the redoubtable Bridget. It’s a tiny stage: take it down a peg or three. Call me a heretic, but not all of us ascribe to the yelling-and-screaming school of theater. That and the unrepentant Texan in me wonders that there isn’t a Hispanic anywhere near the production.

The biggest hole, unfortunately, is the title character. While Dana Black’s Rosita would be fine in a less central role, there’s a stiffness and discomfort there that sits well outside the role of a lovestruck teenager, and about six extra inches of height that have to be acted around. But most egregiously, having wooed my share of sixteen-year-old girls, I can assure you that the absolute last thing you want is one that has the voice of a chain-smoking taxi dispatcher. Innocence lost requires the illusion of innocence (and cute wouldn’t hurt.) The final scene would be incredible if our hearts were breaking as well as hers. All a cynical old man like me asks is a girl to fall in love with.

The music is effective, Danne Taylor is understated excellence, and despite a precipitous fall in story arc the whole thing is a fantastic step for a company so young.
Besides, I’d pay to see Bridget Dehl iron in character.

It’s just a good thing that no one critiques surgery centers . . . .

Is there a geographic limit of cool?

Is it just coincidence that the most interesting parts of New York, Dallas, and Chicago are approximately two miles wide by six miles long?

I'm thinking Manhattan from the Battery to Central Park North, North Dallas / Park Cities from Uptown to the LBJ, between the Tollway and Central, and Chicago North of the river to Evanston, between the river and the lake.

Maybe it's a numbers thing. (or an American thing.)