I once took a drawing class in which we focused on negative space, bringing the spaces of the in-betweens into the focus of our creative attention. It becomes positive space, a product of boundaries, like the pieces of dough left in between after the cookie cutter has been stamped, almost discarded until someone recognizes its property value and potential. In light of the shifts away from local voices and influences that are the natural consequence of urban dynamics, certain physical spaces can work to preserve that democracy. Then there is the public sphere. Like a liquid, it takes the shape of whatever it inhabits. It is dynamic and fluid as it passes through various mediums. Just as Bryant Park used to be a water reservoir, the public sphere seeks a vessel to condense its particles into something shapely. It seeks a bridge to cross from abstract into visible. This fluidity is essential to change; it is universal and it means freedom. Don Mitchell states that “To fulfill pressing need, a group takes space and makes it public through its actions.” [1] Marches turn streets into aqueducts, protests transform space by spilling entropy into the environment, and mass gatherings in squares such as the Occupy movement turn the public attention to the negative-turned-positive space. But when these processes are are inhibited, they sap the vitality of the city.

It seems to me that public spaces should unite us on the basis of three foundations: Democracy, creation, and humanity. We can’t stamp out the bad things that go on in parks that have instilled fear in the joggers of Central Park or the indirect and direct victims of 9/11. We cannot hypocritically exclude people from those spaces that are deemed “public”. Maybe the best way to go about this, then, is to strengthen these spaces in their capacity to work towards mutual compassion. The production and exchange of compassion is by far simpler and much more immediate than money flows and physical restructuring. By eradicating the homeless from the park, we only understand them less and fear them more. Public spaces  should promote confrontation rather than ignorance.

In constructing public space, there are important opposites to play on here. They are leisure and action, escape and remembrance, lighthearted friction and constructive friction. So, with all these ingredients, I think that the shaping of urban space should produce places that are loosely specialized for these three purposes, though there will be overlap, and that versatility is good.

I imagine that the democratic spaces will be fitted with platforms, tables and chairs, and complemented (not dominated by) with technology. There will be an amphitheater that will help to restore the public forum, constructed in such a way as to draw people into a circle. This shape promotes an a certain equidistance that lends itself to a feeling of collectiveness. A great example of this is the Swarthmore College campus’ beautiful green amphitheater.

 I mentioned technology, but I have reservations against public wifi. Something disconcerting that I have noticed in restaurants is when families sit at their dinner tables, all staring at smart phones as if their faces are being sucked into a virtual vortex. I think there is merit to awkward silences; it prompts us to confront it and fill it with something, anything. Silence is the blank canvas for so much possibility, and wifi sends the intent of public space into decay. Instead of public wifi, what about a semi-outdoor cafe that supplies newspapers and liberal arts school graduates-turned-baristas who can be the new salon-keepers and discussion facilitators? The supposed “connectedness” of the interweb needs not be an obstacle to the functioning of the public sphere by taking the raw human interaction out of it. Delving too deep into our devices only reifies our existing beliefs because we are the ones deciding on every click. It worries me that the excitement of new technologies makes us forget that there are human problems still to be addressed, human problems that underly so much. Many of the smart solutions we have come across in class so far have seemed partly extraneous. For example, smartphones have become a symbol of the elite, a mystical object some will spend an inordinate fraction of their income on to achieve a higher image. I would much rather see a large touch screen installed in a public space that provides games, movies and interactive learning. Technology should be tailored to be available to the collective use and benefit.

As for the public spaces geared towards creation, I imagine community garden plots, chalkboard walls, installation art, and spaces for theater and music. It could be a new breed of the public forum, made for channeling multiple perspectives into a shared, final product. Art is reflective of all inputs and processes, and it invites its makers to make mistakes and forces them to accept them. The result is a synergized picture of the urban people.

And for the human spaces, they should cater to our most basic needs. Food carts and trucks, dog parks, running trails, farmer’s markets, chess tables, sports facilities. This group may also include memorials and gardens. We all need to nourish ourselves and we need space to dwell for the sake of dwelling. The essence of public spaces springs from what unites us beyond all boundaries, and it is only in spaces where the fullest of that essence can be expressed. Setha Low said it well, that “The emotional spirit should infuse the postindustrial plaza where all can find public expression.” [3] If Portland’s public spaces can be refitted to meet these three categories, the public sphere can continue to flow and take shape. Otherwise, urban agoraphobia will turn us into chickens in cages.

 

[1] Mitchell, Don. 2014 [2003]. “To Go Again to Hyde Park: Public Space, Rights and Social Justice.” In The People, Place and Space Reader, edited by Jen Jack Gieseking, et al, 196. New York: Routledge, 2014.

[2] http://www.swarthmore.edu/images/news/scott_amphitheater.jpg

[3] Low, Setha M. 2002. “Spaces of Reflection, Recovery, and Resistance: Reimagining the Postindustrial Plaza.” In After the World Trade Center: Rethinking New York City, edited by Michael Sorkin and Sharon Zukin, 172. New York: Routledge.