PID Seminar 2015

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Melaney_Gorman_Week5

Better late than never?

So as I’m working through the process of developing a mental map, I’m going through my moleskin- looking at where we’ve been, who we’ve talked to and started to think: who wants what? It’s a simple question- one that I think has been in the back of my mind since the beginning of the semester- but I until today I haven’t taken the time to sit down and write out the answer for each and every actor.

In the order of when we met them, this is the list of actors that I believe to be directly related to the design:

1) Coleman, 2) Kristine 3) Kaetah, 4) Each other, 5) Lindsey, 6) Edwin, 7) Skip, 8) Refugees at River Farm (Chandra + ?), 9) Watershed Protection, 10) Refugees at Festival Beach (Aldophine), 11) Erin 12) Interviewed Refugees at Lanier, 13) Interviewed Refugees at Festival Beach

So there are quite a few players in the mix. I think sitting down to admit that each player wants a different something out of the design is an essential step in answering the age old question: WHO IS OUR PRIMARY CLIENT? Well, after doing this exercise, I’m still not sure what the answer is, but I think that I have started to notice that different actors in our network have different amounts of agency in two different stages of our project. The two stages being 1) The development of the project (design and build), and 2) The maintenance of the end result.  For example, Skip and Erin have a certain agency in the development of our built prototype because they are providing us with necessary items to build with and by providing us with land to build on. Once the prototype is built, however, their agency is reduced and (more or less) transferred to the MRC participants that are required to maintain the structure. Skip and Erin are necessary for providing the capital that helps the project get off the ground, but at the end of the day I think it is important to realize that the long-term fate of our design is not in their hands.

This relationship reminds me of what we discussed about the Hayden reading. She gives the example of the Puerto Rican casitas as a way that the end user has adapted or changed their environment so that it better suits their needs (Certeau-???). In the case of the casitas, the designer of the housing units that surround them clearly did not appropriate the necessary amount of participation in order to provide a desirable living space, so the users took the situation into their own hands in order to make the space more desirable.

Maybe if we give a bit more agency to the actors that will end up with the most agency in the end, we will succeed in providing a solution that is long-lasting and sustainable. For example, in the situation mentioned above, though Skip and Erin are providing the capital (which gives them a certain amount of agency) perhaps it would be wise to re-appropriate some of that initial agency to the MRC refugees in the development phase of the project. I feel that because the MRC refugees do not have a monetary investment in the project that they might be at a disadvantage  in the initial development phase of the project. It is then our responsibility as “public interest designers” to make sure that they have an equal opportunity to give their input and to also make sure that their input is appropriately considered in the design of the project so that we reach an EQUITABLE outcome (hey Barbara).

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Quan_Yin_Week5

From the moment I came up with the sticker idea, my itchy hands never stop wishing to reach out from my backpack, showing interviewees my hand-made, idea-soaked research tool. I even thought out a bigger plan to maybe develop a more advanced interacting platform to diminish the barrier between strangers from different cultures. Earlier for some reason, I’ve always put myself into the shoes where I can truly understand them, even speak for them. After first interview week, I was blaming myself for being too shy to use the tool and telling myself to take another chance at Festival Beach. Last week still made no progress. Also, I feel myself, deep inside, have senses of fear and distance interviewing the MRC participants, like how I feel every time when I was struggling living in the American society. Everything is soothing, delightful and reasonable, however not connected.

 I’ve participated the interview twice, recording, transcripting, reading and memorizing many pieces of words from many people’s mouths. There is only one sentence I can still remember if other people ask me about the MRC participants. When we asked Wandaka to ask his Mom, what does she want us to build in our project for her, his Mom answered through Wandaka’s translation like, she doesn’t have many thoughts but only knows we are students and coming from the “city”.

 It could be Wandaka’s translation, that he or his Mom choose using the word “city”, but still, a word gives out the fact that after coming to Austin at least two years, they somehow still feel like living a place not included in a city and not with us. Sandercock vividly described the situation as their “desire” for a new life and our (not sure this “our” includes me) “fear” of disruption of existing life (Sandercock, 205). As a result of which, an “insurgent citizenship” even an “insurgent citizenship” are created (Holston, 171), which threats urban planner and architects to either draw a clear distinction, or propose more space without knowing a possible consequence.

 This is also a significant addressed issue in a general public interest design or community engagement process, like we already discussed so far in our studio and seminar. For the time’s sake, the process we’ve been operating could only facilitate maybe part of the issue. As far as I know, sometimes culture barriers are not easy to work with and always require inputs from both sides of the wall.

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KaraHolekamp_Week5

For the last couple days, my thoughts keep going back to a particular setting of the New York Housing Authority, which is both the location of the Puerto Rican casitas from Dolores Hayden's article, as well as the location of a movie called “The Wolfpack” that I saw last night in the theater. The New York Housing Authority's large governmental housing structures are vastly different than our urban fabric in Austin, but I think exemplify several themes that we discuss in seminar including, production of space, uneven distribution of wealth, modernist solutions to social problems, and many others. It is our role as architects and planners to think critically about the sort of 'Pruitt-Igoe' model of housing and urban planning.

My question for reading discussion this week is regarding the informal developments of Puerto Rican casitas in Harlem and the Lower East Side, which popped up in empty spaces between tenement style housing developments and contain vibrant community gardens and social spaces. The way in which they occupy these available spaces, is an alternative production of space that offers respite from the claustrophobic apartments. They are seeking a way of living in this area that suits their community and cultural heritage. The community of Puerto Ricans living in this area are separated geographically and spatially in low-income housing, but do not accept the form of housing, choosing instead to build their own structures.

“The Wolfpack” is a bizarre story of six brothers who grew up in a vaguely Hare Krishna, semi-cult-like family in a NY Housing Authority apartment complex on the Lower East Side. Their father, a dominating and indoctrinating character, taught their children that the outside world was bad and dangerous. The boys and the mother were never allowed to leave their house, instead living out the entirety of their childhoods inside a cramped public housing apartment. They had access to movies, however, and filled their time obsessing over cinema and recreating scenes of the favorite movies with elaborate costumes and scripts. When they finally broke free from their father's rules, they walked out onto the streets of New York City, the city in which they have lived their whole lives, but never really experienced.

I am writing about this movie, partly because its still very present in my mind, but also because I believe that the parent's fear of the outside world was largely due to the heavy crime rates and general unpleasantness of their neighborhood. They didn't want to send their children to public schools, because the school district was notoriously bad. There were obviously a lot of other reasons for this strange lifestyle, but I think environment played a part. The mother describes longingly about growing up playing in fields and meadows, which speaks to the idea that green space is a vital component within urban spaces. Structural and spatial segregation is a real and deeply concerning problem, especially in urban development of the United States. 

As many of our articles for this week describe, cities evolve in multiplicitious ways and there is not one solution to fit all. People will utilize their space in whatever 'way of operating' that they see fit. As Holston states in his article ,“To plan the possible is, in this sense, to begin from an ethnographic conception of the social and its spaces of insurgence” (173). I’m still not exactly sure how these theories apply to our design/build project, since it’s not directly related to spatial segregation. However, I think a lesson learned from the articles this week is that our design should strive to be as flexible and adaptable to accommodate differences in users.

-Kara Holekamp

http://www.magpictures.com/thewolfpack/

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Shuo_Li_Week5

After reading, I started to rethink the role of society and culture in urban planning and city development. I can feel the passion from Leonie Sandercock. I also really expect to see “a city which is run differently from an accounting firm; where planners ‘plan’ by negotiating desires and fears, mediating memories and hopes, facilitating change and transformation.” (Leonie Sandercock)  That seems a happy image to designers. However, at the same time, I also feel that it's hard to achieve that happy image in reality.

Society is much more complicated than the article’s description. Everyone has his or her own desires and fears. Everyone has an opinion about something, especially people from different cultures. How to achieve the harmony, especially in a multicultural society? Perhaps the culture what we try to protect is what someone really wants to abandon. What is culture? Is “culture” a beautiful word or something really important? How to balance the difference and conflict is still a big question and confusion to me.

This question is also happened in our project. After interviewing six refugees, it’s hard to think a big idea to increase everyone’s life quality. Their status and desires are different. In Lanier Gardens, Dilli, Nar and Lal have all spent no more than one years in here. They are new to a place. They don’t have job. They usually walk or take bus. Their desires are more basic and more about family. Lal hopes to learn what season should grow what kinds of food. Dilli hope his granddaughter could be well educated and find a good job in the future. Nar usually mentioned his wife is sick. However, in Festival Beach Community Garden, Pau, Nay Nay, Sang have all spent more than four years in United States. Their families all have cars. Sang has a job. The garden is just a place for fun and no longer a resource for food. Nay Nay hopes the path between gardens could be wider. Sang hopes to have a double-space garden to grow more things. How to balance everyone’s desire?

I also really “want a city where neighbours plant bokchoy and taro and broad beans in community gardens”. (Leonie Sandercock) However, How many people also want this, besides designers? Do stressful people or white collars  want this? I’m not sure. Maybe the city you want is someone’s night nightmare. How to balance this difference to get harmony? Perhaps more interviews are needed.

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JoyceHanlon_Week5

This week’s readings boldly challenge architects and planners to design for social equity.   They bring up painful issues for designers to address – the role that we play in the marginalization of communities and the perpetuated uneven distribution of wealth and power within cities.

In his essay, Holsten puts emphasis on designing for citizenship.  I often forget that city is at the root of that word.  The idea that city development empowers citizen development should always be at the core of our public interest work.  How are we serving to make people better citizens?  Holsten describes formal citizenship as “membership in a political community,” so how is our work empowering individuals to feel part of a community?  Are they achieving political influence?  Are they aware of their influence?

The importance of storytelling comes through in all of these essays – not only the act of it, but also its perception and public response.  Sandercock breaks down these principles of communication as a sort of negotiation between parties and interests:

“This kind of planning work, involving dialogue and negotiation across the gulf of cultural difference, requires its practitioners to be fluent in a range of ways of knowing and communicating: from storytelling to listening to interpreting visual and body language.”

Certeau describes the poetics of becoming enveloped in a written story.  “A different world (the reader’s) slips into the author’s place.”  This can also be said of spoken storytelling – it can allow the listener (in our case, the designer) to empathize with the storyteller, to slip into their place.  We have begun to experience this to some degree through our interviews.  Despite understanding the specific words through a translator, I could see Hikmat motioning tears and could hear the somber tone of his voice as he described to me that his grandchildren cry on the phone because they have gone their whole lives without meeting him in person.  I felt like I had become a part of his story just by listening.

Finally, Mayo analyzes the perception of subjective and rational aesthetic value – the way in which the messages of distribution of wealth are reinforced through the built environment.  The rational aesthetic value is provided to the wealthy, while the marginalized are marketed to on the basis of subjective aesthetic value.

All of these examples lead me to wonder how we are telling our story through this project.  What are we saying to people through our research?  What will we say through our design?  Are we helping to facilitate insurgent citizenship?  It is clear that in this project we are not answering as much to the MRC participants as we are to the City and to Green Gate.  Is that apparent in our interviewing and our questioning?  Are we perpetuating power structures already at play between native citizens, permanent residents, and government?

In order to tell the right story, we need to be critical of our messages throughout our research and design process.  I am personally curious how that will unfold, as our prototypical design approach leaves us without a specific user (is it MRC or just a new farmer?) or site (is it going on a floodplain or on farm land anywhere?).  How do we control our message while simultaneously trying to find answers to our own questions?

During my interview with Sang on Saturday, I found myself mixing questions about his personal experience as a refugee in Austin with questions that would provide insight on our studio design for a mobile rest station.  I asked Sang how his experience in the community garden could be improved, knowing that I would use that information to build a product for someone other than him.   I wonder what kind of messages that sends.  Am I misleadingly making promises I can’t keep, or am I clearly gathering data on a “case study” representative?

Sang’s garden plot at Festival Beach (under the name of his daughter-in-law, Mimi)

Wandaka and Adolfi

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Week5_Jeff_Elliott

“This use of decontextualization ultimately springs from the conviction that it is possible to extract antithetically from existing conditions an absent ideal as a new positive entity - that is to say, to extract an imagined social and aesthetic order ‘from [the] estranged and splintered reality by means of the will and power of the individual,’ as Theodor Adorno once described this process in a discussion of Schönberg's music.” (Holston)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QlnqPerqgPw

The clip I’ve linked above is an old Faroese folk song, re-interpreted by a modern quartet; they take a familiar tune, and render it through collective will and artistry into something new, something previously unthought of (unheard of, at least)… it relates to our work in that we have a certain amount of knowledge about practical small-scale urban farming, and now we have to engage it in our own way, creating a new order, or a new vision of farming through the materials and non-materials furnished us by our clients. At least, I hope that is what the next few weeks of work will lead to. Schönberg’s method was to take the raw material of music and re-order it in a serialized, hyper-rational and technical fashion; I think our work is more of a hybrid, somewhere between tradition and innovation, without the need to totally upset or overturn what farming is, or what design can do to make it possible in an urban floodplain. If anything, it’s like moving the concert from a prestigious hall to a cornfield, and not insisting that the players wear a tuxedo.

Given all the constraints on time and availability, we’ve tried to get the most complete possible picture of our clients- what they want, who they are, what their conflicts in life might be, and what their unspoken desires might be- and now we’re starting to design, to act upon our research and activate that knowledge with our own agency, our practice. We’ve only begun to see the complexity as well as the sometimes selfish interests of clients, and now we have to understand this evolved set of parameters in order to really get at the heart of what our design will be.

“Urban designers need to become more critical in their questioning about who benefits from urban design decisions and outcomes. That questioning requires a political consciousness to realize that economic reasoning can distort practical reasoning for meeting the needs of have-nots.” (Mayo)

Many of this week’s readings emphasize the difficulty of achieving a significant change of political or economic conditions, based on the ineluctable constraint of working within the same system/infrastructure/society from which these conditions emerge. There are significant barriers to working beyond the limits and imposed inequities of capitalism when using capitalist methods, a near-impossible bootstrapping that calls for, among other things, time, conscientious action, community diplomacy, and a whole offering of strategies that this week’s readings outline; above all, critical reflection. For instance, we’ve been given a chassis to work with- does it represent a potentially novel infrastructure, a technical constraint, a bribe from a client, a first design move to build on, or something else? What alternative world, in which underserved communities farming in an urban floodplain is possible, is it a gateway to? Could an MRC participant give us any ideas about it? And mobility- the idea of a trailer going to weekend farmer’s markets seemed inconceivable to Erin. Does that necessarily mean that it will be more or less fixed in location? Is that helpful to the design’s ultimate user-group, or is it economically disenfranchising? Each piece of the design kit-of-parts belongs to a world dominated by monetary concerns, for better or worse, and how we choose to use them will either alter their roles (subaltern), or reinforce them (majority) within that world.

All the readings from this week suggest that useful and meaningful actions arise from the here and now, through shared knowledge and passion, in this “realm of the possible that is rooted in the heterogeneity of lived experience, which is to say, in the ethnographic present and not in utopian futures” (Holston). This is exactly where we are- this is our field of action and we’re situated in a more or less advantageous way to bring this realm of possible to fruition. I’m optimistic. 

My goal going into this studio was to get out of the studio and into the world, and give back to the city. If nothing else, I come out of the seminar with a stronger understanding that “…technical reasoning has become so powerful as a means for decision making that it has led designers to avoid thinking about the political character of their work” (Mayo), and a better sense of how to remain politically engaged in design, while still drawing from the technical side of my knowledge.

Here’s what Schönberg sounds like, in case you were wondering.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-pVz2LTakM

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Noah Winkler_Week 5

Sandercock’s “Negotiating Fear and Desire” seems to be the direct follow-up question to Mayo’s “Urban Design as Uneven Development.” And both seem to deal with the issues this PID seminar has aimed to tackle head on. “Cui bono” - “To whose benefit,” and how we can responsibly and sustainable expand the answer to this question.

The lapse, I believe, in Sandercock’s answer as a follow-up to Mayo’s question is that the former has chosen to accept and work within the system of the latter, a system with inherently inhumane concerns - capital, capital, capital. Mayo’s city of “bread and circuses, where those who don’t have bread aren’t excluded from the circus” is still part of Mayo’s vilified system in which “business interests will sustain spatial patterns of behavior as expressed in buildings only as long as their desired profit margins are maintained.” The bread and the circus are still all an effort to circulate capital “to serve the needs of capital itself.” And it is exactly this motivation Mayo suggest planners need to get hip to and subvert otherwise remain ignorant. But where do architect’s fit in?

This all leads to the question I have been most curious about recently regarding the way we discuss our newly presented role as architects acting with the ethos of PID. Who are we still answering to and what are their motives? If a large part of this answer we are finding for ourselves is still the need for us to convince a developer that money isn’t everything and that doing right for the community has deeper social implications than a pretty building, why don’t we learn that? Where does that come into our education?

I imagine a nonsense conversation between an architect and a developer in which the developer has asked for a high-rise, high-end hotel and spa with a little bit of overpriced retail at the street level (probably a juice bar). And the architect comes to the developer and says, “actually, we (us and the community) thought it best to create a public park with a farmer’s market and a play area.” My point is, our agency starts after we are hired to design a something. And while we need to do everything we can to make that something the best something it can be for the community, how much can I do to ensure that something is not just totally wrong and what the city actually needs is something else. I’m not sure how this compares to the urban planners Sandercock is speaking to, urging them to be more conscious of the conversation they are able to have. And yes, we can and should have this conversation as well. And we are right now. But this is after we have benevolently been approached by the city with money to look into urban farming. What happens when I am hired to design a private house for a client on a lake?

Sandercock asks, “How can urban designers reshape their practice to address these issues of aesthetic inequity that are created by the political economy?” My question would be the same for me as an architect who does not get to pick my own projects. He follows by restating the responsibility of planners: “to be more sensitive and astute in their practice, urban designers must begin to shape their political thinking so that they can equitably plan and design their cities.” So if this city that they equitably plan and design is planned and designed beautifully and responsibly, and the developer is to build in it, and he or she hires the architect, how does the architect, so many steps removed from the larger planning of the city, get included in this conversation. The point I’m trying to make is that if we say we are problem solvers and not only building builders, I agree that we can go forth and design for social sustainability. But as long as we are building buildings for others who are building for money, how far does our agency reach? I really wanna know!

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JessicaKing_week five

I think both Holston and Mayo touch on a subject (or at least prompted thoughts of) that I've been struggling with...what is our role as public designers? What do we really accomplish? And could we accomplish more if we went about it in a different way? Sometimes, I think it is easy to feel helpless and like we are accomplishing nothing, despite our bright and hopeful ideas for the built world. And to be honest, the Mayo article was a bit depressing to read. To be reminded that our society is truly just run on money and our environments cycle with it. It seemed that this fact will, without a major shift in our business models and capitalist system, always remain true. I think there is a general struggle within schools, no matter the program, doing a surface amount of research, finding some solutions and blanketing those solutions over the problems--with no deeper investigations or follow through. And most projects don't have the ability to have post-occupancy evaluations performed (as they are purely theoretical) to see if we are actually doing the service we poetically present to the jury. The portion of that article that gave me hope and resonated the most was the part about the speed at which we design and the advice to s l o w down. I think the benefits from this are numerous--the research and data available over a longer period of time can only strengthen our designs and truly make them impacting ones. Which relates to previous discussions about PID as a part of school curriculum. Whether or not PID becomes it's own certification program, or it remains where it is, I think a lot of people will agree the studio needs more time. It's hard to complete any studio within the summer sessions, much less one that requires much more immediate research, interviews, and testing...then building. I would argue even a whole year is necessary. Especially as the PID program at UT is one that has a design build focus. There is so much pressure to have an end---a physically built object that I think there is a strong possibility the research process and even the decision making is rushed.  Slowing down will also allow us to make deeper connections directly with the people we are serving. From day one, the driver for me has always been people and the discoveries of what we do with the spaces we are provided with. And the differences in individuals is always so fascinating and I think is really what makes cities change (Sandercock). Slowing down and drawing out the design process allows identities to become clearer and we can find ways to celebrate them rather then fear them. This idea was the motivation behind the video I put together with some of the footage gathered from the interviews from last week. I wanted to (briefly) highlight the character of a few of our participants in order to display the heart of what this project is about.

https://youtu.be/QU9Ik7FwQ_U

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Hanqi_Li_Week_5

Last Saturday’s interview revealed some sides about refugee’s lives that I am very interested in. I did interview with Pau from Myanmar, and recorded interviews with Nay Nay and Sang. I am excited to discover that all of the three people interviewed share many similarities. 

Since I may be the only person who have followed all three interviews about Myanmar, I would like to write and share the information, and hopefully, to see the iceberg under the water.

They all came to the USA through Malaysia, which indicates that there might be some sort of organization or community of Burmese refugees in Malaysia (which was confirmed in the interview with Sang). 

They all used to (or their family members used to) farm in Myanmar. They all described what their old farms was like, though the descriptions are not detailed enough for drawing mental maps in Kevin Lynch’s method. 

They all keep growing vegetables from their home country, and many of the seeds were brought by their friends from Myanmar. I am excited to hear this because this indicates they still keep much communication and relation with their home country.

One other thing I found amazing is that their vegetables are all well-adjusted to Austin's climate -- some of them even need MORE sunlight. This phenomenon reminds me that refugee's agricultural activities  in Texas would face different difficulties since they are from different climate zones. 

They live in the same area (very close to each other), this shows the sign of the existence of a small Burmese community. I am happy to find out that they live very close to my apartment (less than 1000 ft.), which makes it much easier to understand their transportation and food supply issues.

They have all spent more than 4 years in United States, and their family all have cars. I didn’t have time to ask their transportation experience before and after their purchase of the car, however, I feel it would be extremely interesting and very helpful for drawing mental maps (based on my personal experience as a foreigner in the city). 

Based on the information I shared with Shuo about the interview last week with Bhutanese refugees, in comparison, Pau, Nay Nay and Sang are well adjusted to life in America and feel less stressful. This may have something to do with the longer time they have stayed in the States.

One other interesting matter I have observed is all of three interviewees found out MRC through the same person: Mimi. Mimi, likely being a Burmese , met them in Austin and told them about the gardening program. There are strong evidences to show that Burmese in riverside area have a small community to help each other. So in the research of the small Burmese community in Austin, Mimi could be a key figure to interview with. Sang is working on Mimi's garden and he talked about " Mimi Moses" thus make me imagine Mimi might be in a same family with Moses and Sang --Another question I didn't have the chance to ask as the camera man. Wish we would have time to find and interview her! This kind of key person would be important during whatever interactions with a group.

When being asked about if they want have their own farm in America, all interviewees gave positive answer personally. But Pau and Sang showed concerns about kids. Kids need to go to school and prefer to stay in the city. So I feel that if we want to help them to be farmers, designing a way to accommodate the next generation would be crucial.

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Week 5

“Narratives about the past can be vital in navigating long-standing, cross-cultural disputes.” Sandercock.

“The question is how to include the ethnographic present in planning, that is, the possibility for change encountered in existing social conditions….” Holston.

As in Mayo’s reading, I also dream about a city where the different spheres create a richer community rather than a sharper segregation of those who are different.

On describing the relationship between citizens from different spheres, Sandercock cites “They, who upset our homely space, must be pushed out from the center”. In other words, it is a common reaction to strange things that are different from people’s usual environment. While it is true that the ideal place is the one created for and by the whole community, we have realized that this is a situation hard to achieve. In our first visit to Festival Beach Garden, we were told that the MRC community had to be separated from the rest of the gardeners due to some issues. This fact proves us how hard is to mix new distinct realms even in a small scale such as the one of community garden.

By all means, I am not suggesting that we should give up any effort to offer more multicultural encounter. Our role is, as Sandecock suggests, design with the idea of diversity in order to develop sites of intersections. These processes are slow due to the skeptical mindset for change of some people. Engaging with the community is a crucial step towards building new relationships. Our intervention and our work during the seminar has dissipated the skepticism that they could have had in their means. Now, we should honor this trust (assuming it exists) in the design of the garden element.

I am still thinking about the importance of sensory, aesthetic, and environmental components explained by Hayden Dolores that link people to a place. Moreover, I am positive about the effects that the stories and imaginary inputs from MRC participants can bring to the community garden. During the seminar we have collected valuable information from the MRC community that could bring value not only to the final design in the studio, but also to empower the refugees and their relationship with their communities. As part of UT community, I am excited from what MRC participants have brought to Austin-Community garden- PID experience. 

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Amy_Grossman_Week5

I was unable to attend this weekend's garden interviews, but wanted to think about the readings in terms of a recent experience in order to better understand the principles. Then I took those principles and applied them to our project.

I recently visited the Castle Hill graffiti site, to show a visiting friend a unique and beautiful part of Austin that I loved when I moved here two years ago. The last time I saw it, about a year ago, it was full of images created by street artists and usually I would get to see one or two artists working on an image during my visit. I am shocked when I visit this time, because instead of inspiring works of art, the site is now mostly tags of visitors names. The only evidence of the artists are one or two paintings peeking through the garbage with a few signs asking the visitors not to cover up the art. At the base of the terraces there is a guy selling cans of spray paint for $10 and when I ask him about it, he tries to sell me a homeless newsletter which is his true passion, he tells me. I found myself thinking about this development while reading about capitalism in the article Urban Design as Urban Development. The idea that capitalism is defined by an attitude of "build anywhere, anytime with a capital investment to yield a maximum rate of return" would probably fit well with the intentions of the Castle Hill paintcan/homeless newsletter seller. The article identifies this definition of capitalism as being "antithetical to urban design and practice" and a "denial of place." Castle Hill is no longer a space in the city for graffiti artists to develop and showcase their talents or for art lovers to enjoy visiting. The tourist tagging has overtaken the art and it has become a commercial venture. The article also describes "a perpetual struggle in which capital builds a physical landscape appropriate to its own conditions at a particular moment in time, only to have to destroy it, usually in the course of a crisis, at a subsequent point in time." Applied to Castle Hill, the capital being sought by this vendor is building a physical landscape appropriate to a new condition of the city where the inhabitants are no longer artists but short-term residents and tourists. According to the article's description of capitalism, the next step would be the need to destroy Castle Hill, which seems likely if it's a site of homeless vendors and random graffiti tagging, as seen in the picture below.

Applying these ideas to our project recalls my original concern for the outcome of this studio; that combining two land uses that do not individually provide enough (perceived) value to society in an effort to "yield a maximum rate of return" could potentially lead to a "perpetual struggle in which capital builds a physical landscape appropriate to its own conditions at a particular moment in time, only to have to destroy it, usually in the course of a crisis."   If a flood comes through and the landscape has been so altered by farming that the system is overwhelmed, what get destroyed? Not just the farm, it destroys the ecosystem services that the floodplain provides to us as well. What are the repercussions of that to us, as inhabitants?

A possible solution, according to this article, would be to socialize the land. Although this solution is referencing the class divide that can happen in design, I think it also speaks to the class divide according to landuse. "

The best way to redesign urban space is to socialize it. If this was done, land could no longer be used as a fictitious means to create economic value and profit.

" Public land would also create an entity of oversight that is not there when the land is private and might be necessary when it comes to the possibility of placing an inhabitable structure in a floodplain. I've noticed that design professionals tend to view bureaucrats as narrow-minded, rule-following, and unwilling to try creative solutions, but the reality is that they have to take more things into consideration than many designers are able or willing to do. Having a city agency in charge of community gardens could mean a more responsible use of the floodplain than private farms might pursue if they decide to take this shade structure and allow someone to live on it in a floodplain. 

Based on my background in environmental health and learning about the dynamics of floodplains and agriculture in Austin these past 5 weeks, I can 100% get behind community gardening in a floodplain with the aid of a shade structure. What concerns me is if this is promoted as a living option for starting farmers in floodplains in the document we produce for the city. I think there are ethical issues that should be considered, but are not yet. Is that a decision for us as designers? Or do we simply respond to what our client is asking of us and produce the desired product? 

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Andrew_Kao_week5

As the end of our seminar approaches I find myself thinking about the beginning. The goals we set and the hopes we chose to pursue. The past few weeks have informed me about gardening, and more importantly about the sense of home and the memories it can help create and help sustain. If anything, the interviews and the time we spent with the MRC and its members really gave me a concrete basis for the power of gardening. As an immigrant myself, I have a few family members who actively garden. In each case the primary focus is to plant and, hopefully, harvest crops indigenous to Sri Lanka, fruits and vegetables that are hard find here in the United States. But our time with the MRC really highlighted that the crops were in essence secondary. What was really been cultivated was a sense of home.

All the MRC members I interacted with had that sense of home when talking about “their” garden.  The community gardens we visited reflected this. Perhaps not with a wealth of participants all diligently attending to their plots all at the same time, but more in the sense that for each of them, it is “their” garden. There is an important distinction there, many of the MRC members are renters, but their garden is their own. There is an inherent ownership and connection between garden and gardener and it will be up to us to convey that message, of how gardens can strengthen a person’s sense of being part of a community. It can be argued that not every community garden might have the emotional significance of the MRC plots, but that might be an oversimplification. It will be up to us to share and inform those who, like us, had only a vague conceptual idea about what a community garden can be.

If the purpose of CRP, landscape architecture, and architecture is to help create a better built environment, whether it be in the scale of a building, community, or city, then we must begin to question the investments we choose to make within the city. If “community” is the endgame that idea of the community and the city must be accessible to as many members as possible, or at the very least, there should be an openness to the community as a whole. It is not up to me to determine if urban farming and community gardens are the best use of city resources in the efforts to foster a better sense of community, but at least in the MRC’s case, it appears to truly empower people to have a sense of community as well as a means of adjusting to a new life.

Ideally we would all like to share what we have learned these last few weeks, but it will be a challenge to convey the breath of what we have all learned. But as Sandercock mentions, “stories are a common denominator valued by all ethnicities and ages,” and perhaps that should be our focus. Not the data we gather or the metrics we might find, but the human connection. A story can transcend language, time, age groups, and communities. It is why the news is always presented as stories. Human beings have an underlying affinity for stories. It is how we have defined our existence on this planet and will continue to be the dominant medium in which we choose to record our time here. If we are able to do anything with our time with the MRC then it should be to help share their story. To help at least one of a hundred who may come into contact with their story to ask the question of, “how can I help?”

Urban farming on flood plain areas and community garden expansion will ultimately be determined by the city, but we might be able to shed some light on the work that goes on with the MRC and its members. Maybe that leads to more plots and less people on the waitlist, but at least there will be another form of documentation about what is going on within this city, its not all music festivals and “keep Austin weird,” there are communities defining themselves and work being done invisible to the rest of us, important work. No matter the medium, we should strive to share this story; it is a compelling story, a story about hope, hard work, and kindness. It is a story about people helping one another, and those need to be the stories we all need to be seeing and hearing more.

- Andrew Kao - week 5

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Sean_O'Brien_Week 5

“Narratives about the past can be vital in navigating long-standing, cross-cultural disputes. Stories are a common denominator valued by all ethnicities and ages." (Sandercock, 209)

"...one path to this understanding is to hunt for situations that engage, in practice, the problematic nature of belonging to society and embody such problems as narratives about the city" (Holston, 173)

“...every description is more than a fixation,” it is “a culturally creative act” (Certeau, 123)

One of the common themes with the assigned readings for this week is the importance in narrative and storytelling between diverse groups of people.  An area of primary importance is the act of verbal interaction between populations who are often viewed as separate.  I think there is clearly a different level of relationship reached through talking to someone versus just knowing them in passing, and a personal level reached when that verbal relationship is established through the sharing of personal stories and history.  This type of interaction and engagement, Sandercock argues, helps to create empathy and understanding between people who have been "at odds for generations, or come from disparate cultural traditions, or where there is a history of marginalisation." This simple act seems to be lost in a lot of the process and work that you see in everyday planning, design, and development.

While our design process was at a standstill last week, there was a moment during studio where it was asked, "why do we not try and get all of the key players in one room and have a discussion so we can try and gauge the immediate needs and future goals of each party (the MRC, Skip and Erin, and Edwin); so, we can have everyone in the same room to generate a conversation, versus meeting with each group separately?"  Although the situation between the aboriginals and the whites in Sandercock's example deals more with conflict and relates to Australia's cultural tradition and history of oppression, I still am curious how well this method, meeting as one large group, could have benefited (or, hurt?) our design process.  Is this method only beneficial as a last resort when there is conflict and resolution requires face to face interaction, with the designer or a local official as mediator?  Or, can it be implemented successfully even when there is a benevolent relationship between all entities, but there may be some difficulty determining the best possible solution to satisfy the needs between diverse groups?  What would the potential benefits or drawbacks have been if we were to have this type of meeting?  One of the concerns voiced in studio was that the MRC participants may feel afraid to speak up or voice their opinions if this type of discussion or gathering were held.  Although I understand this concern, I also have an issue with making assumptions about how a group of especially diverse people from various backgrounds (the participants of the MRC) would act in such a meeting.  Also, I think that, if this is a concern and we think that certain players might have bigger or more dominant voices in such an event, that our concern means that we are now challenged as the mediators to shape the discussion and setting in a way which will provide the likely chance that all voices can be heard.  I do not know exactly how this might be done.  However I think that this is a challenge that could have presented an interesting opportunity in our design process.

"I have argued here that one future for planning and planners is as a negotiator of desires and fears, a mediator of memories and hopes, and a facilitator of individual change and social transformation." (Sandercock)

I think that the amount of empathy that we feel as a class towards the MRC and its participants has been created through our face to face interaction and emphasis on creating relationships through these interviews, which are largely based on the act of story-telling.  Our stories (us and the refugees) intersect in the places we come in contact.  From what I gather from the Certeau reading, when diverse narratives intersect in certain places within the city, new spaces are created.  I enjoy the notion that we are creating new spaces through the relationships we develop with the MRC participants, Skip and Erin, and the City of Austin.  New spaces seem to not only yield new opportunities, but seem to generate understanding between otherwise separate entities.  I think these interactions follow the premise of Holston's article, prioritizing the notion of citizenship building over state building and utopian futures, encouraging planning based on the ethnographic present.  

[pid2014-blog]

As the end of our seminar approaches I find myself thinking about the beginning. The goals we set and the hopes we chose to pursue. The past few weeks have informed me about gardening, and more importantly about the sense of home and the memories it can help create and help sustain. If...

[pid2014-blog]

Approaching this week’s entry I find myself thinking about application. Last week had us visiting Green Gate Farm’s Austin location and then on Saturday we had our first round of official interviews. Both came at an important point of the class, studio has us winding up on researching and mapping,...

[pid2014-blog]

If this last visit proved anything about the process I am following in regards to our interaction, data gathering, and response to the MRC participants is that that human factor is lacking. If film is the route I wish to pursue in order to help share a narrative about the MRC, their participants,...

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- Andrew Kao - week 3

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Week 5

_Andrew H