‘The writing is on the wall’ – in this case it’s a joyful omen of a sunny day at the beach for those who have just arrived. The wall of sand appeared after a winter storm, presenting itself as a temporary blank canvas of iron sand for an even more temporary bulletin, or directive, made of shell. A message of living in the moment, an invitation to acknowledge a shared experience.

The setting:

a busy day at Te Henga, 26 Aug 2012. Left click to view full image.

PTS walk and cycle path at the intersection of path, stream and railway lines.

Paths in towns, cities and suburbs are dynamic and social places, running through urban centres and neighbourhoods, full of movement – of people, goods, other species and natural flows of water and ecosystems. The spaces we travel through are not just utilitarian (streets, roads, pathways, parks, squares and junctions). The spaces we travel through are the human environment, the city itself, with all its multiplicities.

Art is encroaching on spaces traditionally governed by the functionalism of engineers and planners (such as the decorated bridges for sense of place in the Auckland motorway network). Our urban ‘material culture’ (a term drawn from anthropology) is shaped by human decisions about both function and ornament, influenced by history, aspiration and everyday cultural expectations.

Assumptions about everyday travel needs, and cultural expectations of public space affect our efforts to improve urban transport. These assumptions arise from existing, yet often unspoken, narratives about urban travel and public space. Human needs and experiences associated with everyday urban journeys make travel through the urban realm a ‘living’ activity, both functional and potentially attractive in itself.
Critical urban design and planning for transport can learn from projects which take human habit and desires into account, as well as rational decision making.

Transport spaces can tell a story about the places we move through, how and why, and may contribute to transport choice and better, more integrated design of transport as part of public space and society.

RWC 2011 Fan Trail through Aotea Square

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My research looks at sense of journey as an additional layer to sense of place, and a tool for transport design. I propose a design method for drawing out the functional, social and cultural context for everyday urban journeys, as part of a dynamic experience of space. The outcome of the method is an urban travel narrative that is specific to the path, network, journey or traveller. This narrative approach may be useful in travel demand management, promoting positive and personal transport choice to individuals (or specific workplaces or neighbourhoods), as well as offering a common language with urban design and transport professions.

To illustrate some of the socio-cultural choices of design for travel I looked at four specific examples of pathways in Auckland which include ‘non-functional’ aspects of design (art and ornament):

There is little out there on critiquing the experience of urban travel space as part of urban design. Because of this, I found myself collating ideas on what makes everyday travel purposeful, satisfying and appealing. Establishing a useful, repeatable method of analysis that got to the heart of the travel experience became a key part of my research. A method I hope to share and develop with others involved in art and design for public spaces.
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The title of my thesis:

(re-edited 26 July 2012)

Safety and Confidence in the Public Realm

Preparedness 101: Zombie Apocalypse

Psychologist Nigel Latta (at the walking and cycling conference in Hastings this week) brought up the ‘Zombie Apocalypse’ in his talk about kids being active. It turns out learning how to deal with a zombie takeover is much like learning how to handle ’stranger danger’ and traffic.

Parents need to teach kids how to make good decisions when walking or cycling to school. To be prepared, kids need to be running fit, they need to be alert to ‘lurchy’ people, and, if it really comes down to it, they need to know it takes ‘two shots to the head’.

Children learn how to have the right ‘road side manner’ if they get to experience walking and cycling to school. They grow up to become better drivers and they are also more likely to be healthy, active adults because they know how fun it can be to go out and explore under ones ‘own steam’ and management (long before learning to drive a car).

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Adults also benefit from a bit of zombie watchfulness in their day to day use of the streets. There is a lot said in safety campaigns on being alert and visible to traffic. But having a zombie plan sounds particularly useful for late night or peculiar journeys.

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Fear

There are a lot of messages pushing fear of the outside world on people; on kids (parents), the elderly and women in particular. My fellow ‘vulnerable users’ of street space. However, the risks are much lower than we might assume from reading the papers (check out police statistics, road safety statistics and health statistics: sedentary lifestyles are far more dangerous.) Both kids and adults need to spend time outside to learn how to manage risk, to learn how to make good decisions and look after themselves.

I have done quite a lot of evening walks (including bus and train trips), making the most of where I live in the city (see Art in the Dark image below), and I’ve come up with a number of small actions to combat fear of the streets at night. The guidelines I tend to use myself are pretty similar to what we tell tell kids. Let someone know where you are. Be alert to who and what is around you (not drunk), use your ears to hear what is going on around you (traffic and people rather than your ipod bubble), take note of what is visible of the space you are in (and what is not visible), take note of where you could run for cover, be prepared to move quickly (shoes, ladies), avoid ‘lurchers’, and have some idea of how you might defend yourself in an emergency. As a result I feel like I ‘own’ the streets as much as anyone else.

Women’s studies writer Inga Muscio influenced how I think about walking home in the dark. Most notable for me was Inga’s proactive approach as a female traveller at night: do what you need to do, but take precautions.

In particular I make use of her advice to tell people what you are doing – tell your flatmate where you are going, send a text, or make a quick phone call to let people know you got in safe at night. This is a tactic I’ve used quite a lot. Even just mentioning you are, say, catching a bus, sets up an expectation for the people you are with to care about your journey, and gives you all the chance to reassess how you are going to get to the bus stop in the current light. Besides the fact that it is reassuring to talk about your travel choices, it can be kind of fun to share your adventures with people back at the party/venue, or with friends travelling home in other directions via text. It’s an extension of the safety messages from the police, which pop up on billboards sometimes: watch out for your mates when out on the town.

Confidence in public space, means balancing a realistic assessment of risk with sensible preparation, and knowing your capabilities.

Returning to the zombies: there is always a risk but we don’t need to be unprepared. Exercise along with well judged, careful exploration of the opportunities and resources of street space, over time, during the day and night, in any condition, is part of planning for the future apocalypse. So keep walking and cycling people!

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For more info

The original zombies site is a brilliant use of pop culture in social marketing for health and civil defence.

Inga Muscio suggests some simple acts of preparedness in her book along with a whole host of other issues affecting the lives of women. It’s an entertaining story of everyday health and survival.

Art in the Dark is a night time art event in Western Park, Ponsonby, Auckland. This image is from 2011. (I can’t work out which artist it is from the map but there are…) more details on their website: www.artinthedark.co.nz
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I expect plenty of other people who walk and cycle have come up with their own unique street ’survival tactics’. Feel free to share below.

I came across a promising idea today from the blog for Toothfish Posters. Namely that the concept of the political billboard, known to spring up everywhere prior to elections, are, as a version of public communication, asking for art intervention.

“Toothfish suggests that rather than defacing political signs in the future a group of human artists in New Zealand could form a legal political organisation (maybe an ART Party instead of an ACT Party!) for the purpose of legally erecting ‘political signs’ at the next election. There doesn’t need to be any promises, policy or candidates. – just some nice art on three metre square billboards strategically placed in front of any future National Party billboards.”

For the recent 2011 election Toothfish cheekily instigated their own unofficial Plankton Party, (because plankton vastly out number all of us in a voters game) and put up some striking posters. If you find party politics frustrating, imagine what it would feel like to have your personal concerns out there on the streets, as a giant billboard! Now why does that sound familiar…

active citizenry + art + public surface = ?
I’ve already argued for graffiti as a necessary public voice here, in the absence of adequate coverage in mainstream media of the devastating tsunami in Samoa in 2009.

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Here is a similar argument for ‘non-traditional’ public art being recognised as an essential part of the community, and the hurt that occurs when it clashes with the wider view of how we as New Zealanders present ourselves to the world.

Earlier this year I wrote a small research piece for a project called Art Was Here, a response to the scrubbing away of Auckland’s graffiti landmarks prior to the rugby world cup. Their goal was to get some kind of recognition for existing graffiti art that has permission from owners (and community) to prevent unnecessary destruction of art in what is supposedly a creative city.

the full article is here:
http://artwashereak.tumblr.com/theory

It is mostly a review of Javier Abarca’s essay about the value of street art in art education and its role in generating awareness of the urban environment as a context for art and life. (See below for a direct link.) Javier posits the idea of street art as a form of active citizenship.

There is a link between sense of ownership of public places and feeling like we belong, that this is home. That sense of ownership includes responsibility and agency, the potential to have an effect on one’s surroundings. Public art as a form of citizenship holds both these aspects, and I believe it can do so for any community member, not just sanctioned artists, or billboard producers.

Key points from the Art Was Here article:

“Public art is not just about permission in terms of ownership. It is a negotiation with all other users of a particular space, for the right to be heard, and the responsibility of being an active participant in society. The lesson from street art is that we can influence the world we inhabit in striking ways. The lesson that Javier teaches his students is that intimate dialogue with a public space is a form of social awareness, it reveals once again that the personal is political and vice versa.”

“the impetus [for the Rugby World Cup paint-outs] seems to come from a conservative view of public art and graffiti as a communication model only available to the heads of state, as part of a sudden desire to display an unusually homogeneous rugby culture in an otherwise diverse, multicultural New Zealand city.”

The ‘buffing’ process led to media controversy over the removal of a popular 10 year old mural beside Karangahape Road, on Poynton Terrace. It appears an over-zealous graffiti removal contractor decided that this was Not-Art and therefore grubby and removed it, upsetting not just the artists who had kept it up all those years, but also the K’ Rd community. The council initially tried to fix the problem by offering to pay for a conservative style mural in its place, essentially dismissing the original artists once again, and ignoring the ‘edgy’ urban context of the site. Eventually the mayor got involved and things were resolved somewhat.

Askew, one of the artists has this to say about the outcome:

“I hope that if anything this has illustrated that people like me, that like or do graffiti do care and have a vision for this city just like anyone else. I hope we can engage and work more often towards creating positive projects that come with compromise and understanding rather than just applying robotic bureaucratic measures to every issue that comes about. I hope that we can start to see return this city to a place where everyone can feel a sense of belonging and ownership, where things aren’t constantly standardized, painted grey or rebuilt purely as a veneer to impress foreign Rugby punters. Like I said – today I feel optimistic.”

So, anyone keen to keen to join the ART party?
If for no other reason than to reply to this rather cynical use of public space by the NZ police:

police recruitment campaign and graffiti response 2011

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short cut to Javier Abarca essay ‘Teaching urban intervention, learning to see the city anew’, May 2011.
http://www.eksperimenta.net/ohjur/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/1101-Teaching-urban-intervention-IDEAlab-Javier-Abarca.pdf

http://urbanario.es/clase
http://urbanario.es/dialogos

Toothfish.org

This is the view from Te Wero Island approaching the new pedestrian and cycle bridge, Wynyard Crossing, over to Wynyard Quarter. The paving design is based on traditional Maori patterning, I’m looking to find out its meaning but I suspect is related to kai moana – food of the sea and its abundance. The curvy roof is the new Viaduct Events Centre.
The bridge is a double drawbridge, which they were showing off throughout the day, along side what were probably the most picturesque boats in Auckland:

I arrived at 10am for the official opening of the three public art works. The first work was a sound installation by Rachel Shearer (NZ) called The Flooded Mirror, just at the end of the new bridge, and the associated cast concrete step design details (the steps are called Silt Line), the first attractive water access point for people in the central city in some time, that also mark the shifting tides.

I didn’t get a chance to experience this work away from the crowds but it supposedly relates to the “interconnections between sea, geology and humans”, with “sounds inspired by mineral structures as a metaphor”, and as “an aural map of energy flow narrating ancient general histories and specific recent histories” operating to coincide with tidal frequency (from Auckland Council flyer). I had to laugh when the time came to switch the sound on and the draw-bridge buzzer burst in, diverting the apprehension and stealing all the attention as history-in-the-making.

The next official work to be ‘opened’ was the interactive Sounds of the Sea by Company (Finland/Korea). These immaculately polished, reflective ships ventilators have various functions, as echoing seats or conduits of sound (based on ships speaking tubes). The artists demonstrated by one giving part of their speech into the curved form at a distance and the other holding a microphone to the opening of its twin at the other end of the installation. Yet another ventilator/sound tube delivered the voice of the sea from directly underneath the North Wharf.

The final official piece of public art work to be opened was the refurbished Wind Tree by Michio Ihara (Japan/USA), which once stood in Queen Elizabeth Square between Queen Street and the Ferry Building. Originally installed in 1977, this work was removed in 2002, with some controversy over its treatment by the previous council. The new position hopes to mend bridges for public art in Auckland, much like the original work was part of a rebirth for public art in Auckland in the 70s.

Aside from these three pieces that were deemed worthy of speeches, there were a number of visually, aurally and texturally attractive works on the site, including a series of buoys that seem awfully similar to a temporary installation along the old foreshore for the ‘Living Room’ programme in 2007 called ‘Bouys Before Shore’, by Erwin van Asbeck and Charlotte Fisher (as seen in The Aucklander Central, 23/05/07). They have protested about what appears to be their idea reused with out reference (see in the NZ Herald, Thurs Aug 11).

There was something wonderfully sculptural about the old Golden Bay cement silos that remain on site, with their bright spiral stair-cases and white skirts. The playground, crawling with people on the first day, had a sea-side theme, reusing local, marine materials for a rustic play-like-it-used-to-be feel, while tying into the sustainability efforts during construction. This contrasted with the fake grass on the play hill, but the resultant dry, durable surface was sure to please parents on a grey, damp Auckland day.

The landscaping also has a creative edge; with ‘green’ drainage swales on Jelicoe Street blending with general planting, inspired by the lush forest that existed right down to the waters edge prior to human colonisation. Storm water is treated on site through a man-made wetland that runs out to the sea similar to the design at Waitangi Park in Wellington. (context from seminar by Megan Wraight of Wraight and Associates at UoA, 10th May).

Free trams on the day were popular, I chose not to queue for a ride around in a circle, but I look forward to the day when the tracks are extended along the waterfront to the transport interchange and other inner city destinations.

This piano player in the fledgling jungle was the cherry on the top for me, a place full of life, people relaxed but engaged by the gift of music, with fresh sea air, verdant growth, glowing colour, the smell of nourishing food nearby under shelter, and plenty of places to sit and be part of it.

I love Festival time because of the atmosphere it creates. Auckland feels like a real city, living and breathing, with a pulsing heart at Aotea Square.

This is a quote from Renee Liang from an article on performing arts in the arts festival at The Big Idea. I like her seemingly off-hand comment that Auckland feels like a ‘real city’. Often it doesn’t. Often Auckland feels more like a small town closed for the winter for all the human interaction it offers. However, the arts festivals are a wonderful illustration of what a great events programme can do for our experience of urban space. Renee goes on to describe:

People are pulled into the CBD, pumped around its theatres and galleries, given time to linger in the spaces and eating places. This year the clever people at the Festival have created a great central space with neon signs, plenty of information clearly visible, and a good programme of events, both pay and free, to draw people in. Even on the slightly cooler nights we’ve been having recently the streets seem busier. There seems to be a real democracy to who’s eating ice cream at Giapo or sitting on the stone steps at the square – everyone from dressed up opera goers to students looking for a cheap night out.

I had a great time hanging out in Aotea square next to the Garden Stage on Friday evening. I sat in the sun on the newly refurbished lawn to check out music by Chris O’Connor, Sean Donnelly and James Duncan. The space was both buzzing and welcoming with tables, a temporary bar, and a variety of relaxed or stylish seating. The rest of the evening was amiably filled chatting at outdoor tables, floating in and out the many entrances for food or phone calls, cruising over to the nearby outdoor screening of New Zealand short films, and finally a second enlightening dose of noise-beats and sound-scapes from the musicians on the lawn. It is this enticing opportunism of festival time that makes Auckland feel like a ‘real city’.

White Night on Saturday was a chance to wander between a huge variety of visual arts, with galleries large and small, art centres, and pop art stores all open late. My friend and I wandered K’ Road between Artstation and Queen Street following the trail of white balloons to experience a glowing white knitting party in UV black light, vertigo inducing video works, graphics with 3D glasses, live painting, delicate drawings, films of historic art performances, a zine stall and a wonderful offering of watermelon soup. The soup is an example of the level of human interaction that went along with all the art – refreshing, sweet and spicy. That night we were not alone on our touring quest for real-world inspiration, we were part of a continuous flow of people warming up the city’s brightly lit caverns and hollows. Free events like these show an Auckland that is generous with its talents and welcoming in its nature. This is an urban Auckland that waves as we walk past and invites us in for drinks.

Hopefully White Night will become an annual event, meanwhile, the festival garden continues for another week with free music every evening. Pop your nose in and say hi if you’re passing through town.

David Engwicht is giving a series of workshops in New Zealand in March 2011.

The workshops are a little pricey so I fully recommend reading his books if you can’t get along to his talks. I was lucky enough to attend one in Wellington through my work at Living Streets Aotearoa. I first encountered David’s work through his books Street Reclaiming: Creating livable streets and vibrant communities, and Mental speed bumps: the smarter way to tame traffic.

David talks about the street as a historical site of human interaction, and not just a place for vehicle traffic which has taken over in recent times. He talks about communities reclaiming their streets as part of the public realm, with strong emphasis on freedom to express a sense of home, a sense that ‘people live here’ in all the creative, humorous, low cost yet generous ways humans can think of. He illustrates with wonderful examples of community art/ interventions that not only provide opportunities for local residents to engage and communicate with neighbours, but also has the magical effect of slowing down traffic on residential streets, making them more pleasant to live on.

All kinds of activities can improve safety and atmosphere of local streets, from simply sitting out the front of your house to staging a street party. The key is engagement – in any form – with the place you live in.

Community art, Neighbourhood art

David often talks about the interaction between art and traffic, something I hope to expand on with my upcoming Masters study. After decades of shying away from any ‘dangerous distractions’ on boring roads you want to speed through, we are now seeing more art and design detail on streets and motorways in New Zealand. Is this a conscious effort to improve safety, value and sense of place? Are traffic engineers the curators of this new art venue? Do people walk more in creative street environments? I plan to find out…

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Notes and further links:
David Engwicht is the founder of the Creative Communities organisation, and based in Australia.

book review of Reclaiming our Cities and Towns: Better living with less traffic.

More detail about David Engwicht and his work can be found here at the Project for Public Spaces website.

D. E. quote: “The city is an invention to maximize exchange and minimize travel”

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a quick note on Ghost Bikes:
As discussed in NZ media lately – a more sombre example of community intervention in the street scape is the idea of “ghost bikes“, to make places where cyclists have died in collisions in unsafe conditions. This is a way for family and friends to communicate their loss to the community, and remind drivers to be mindful of bikes. Councils are wary of supporting these bikes in case people start installing ghost cars, or ghost pedestrians, eventually filling up the roadsides with spectres. I think they are missing the point of the instantaneous response to something that is growing more and more important to New Zealanders right now – that is safety for all road users. A few ghost bikes is enough to bring this to the attention of the media and hopefully the majority of road users.

Media:
Christchurch,
Auckland,
Council vs Public Debate.

Memorial Ghost Bike in Whangarei

There are a few layers of context to the art works in this post so I’m going to start at the top and work down, from the architecture, the commissioned artworks, through to the details of installation, to consideration of the integration of art into public architecture, the success of this, and how a sense of value can be read from the details.

The setting for this example is the redeveloped train station in New Lynn’s transport hub.

New Lynn train station from the bus depot

The railway lines were dropped below ground level in a trench passing under the station. This significant work of new infrastructure was done to improve the function and feel of public space in the New Lynn town centre. It also creates an interesting new spatial experience. We don’t go underground much in New Zealand.

the lowered platform showing textured wall tiles

There are several art works associated with the station thanks to the previous council’s active engagement with artists on all civic projects as part of the Eco-City model. The art relates to the local context of the rail line, the historical ceramic industry of the area and the cultural diversity of the present. Please see the notes at the end for more on artists and artworks.

examples of art works around the station

What I really want to talk about is not the meaning in the artworks, nor the architecture, but the way the art is presented. How presentation within a space speaks to the intended function of that space, or how someone using the space as intended, e.g. to catch a train, might perceive the work. How a space, or an artwork is valued is evident from the ‘finish’ of an installation. For example the train station itself is architecturally striking, which I view as a good sign for the future of transit in Auckland. It shows we value and want to draw attention to transport choice and the role it plays in strong urban centres. However I feel two of the artworks, in the way they are installed in the station, counter this message of urban values in small but significant ways.

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Within the new train station, along the walls on either side of the platform are some amazingly polished contoured tiles, inspired by the surrounding clay landscape. The textured panels stop dead at the walkable edge of the platform:

the end of the art wall

As you can see the tiles do not extend to the end of the trench, they do not taper off to a respectable distance past the edge of the raised platform, they stop short of the full treatment.

The experience of the work is marred by the very abrupt, rough-as-guts ‘unfinished’ concrete walls that dominate the rest of the trench. Essentially passengers on the train are thrown back out into the boring, messy corridors that are stereotypical of train journeys the moment the train leaves the platform. If this were a lesser project this architectural retreat to the status quo would be less worrisome, but it is a significant building and this wall is so ugly in its complete lack of concern, it is begging for some adornment. Some local graffiti artist or tagger is bound to be tempted despite the danger of the trains.

Ideally the whole trench would be completed with the tiles, showing respect for the whole experience and the artist. Local residents who have to navigate around the long trench barriers at ground level are also affected. A compromise could see a playful riff on the design expanding out along the trench, reaching the eyes of pedestrians and passengers alike. Even simple attention to texture would be preferable to total disregard.

Passengers who must ride out the rest of the trench are given the implicit message that once they are on the train they are not worth the grandeur of the station itself. Not only that, this trench gives the message that the view of passengers is not worth considering at all. Therefore travel by train from New Lynn is valued less than it first appears.
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Lace pattern close up

the art disappears into reflections when walking

The second issue I want to bring up is related to the lace designs that have been applied to the glass panels atop the barrier that surrounds the trench. While a lot of amazing work has gone into the lace designs themselves, pulling in ideas from textiles of four local cultures, I felt these designs could be better placed and sized.

In transport projects the moving audience, experiencing art in space while walking, sitting, at speed or resting in stillness. This leads to shifting scale and perspectives of the artwork. Vital angles can be easily overlooked, sometimes marring the overall effect of the artwork. In this case I felt the images suffered from being placed at such a height that the background view interfered, blocking out light to what is like a piece of stained glass. When lit well they can be glorious, but a muddled view makes for a frustrating experience. I had to duck down to take photos that do the works justice. I wouldn’t be surprised if the shortest of little kids find them magical.

When walking around the top of the trench to come or go from the station, one naturally faces in the direction they are walking, at which point the lace designs disappear into reflections of cars and traffic lights. Seeing as the entire station is surrounded by roads the station might just become a mirage of a traffic jam to a pedestrian who gets close enough.

Down stairs on the platform the patterns are well lit against even a cloudy day. Perhaps this is what the design team had in mind – a colourful edge to the raised sky. But if that is the case why are the final designs so small? Why not make the image large enough for the detail of the work to be appreciated from the platform, up to 10m away?

lace images as seen from the platform

It seems unsatisfactory to view these coloured lace artworks as part of one’s natural use of the space, as a pedestrian or a train user. There are clashes of scale, distance and refraction angles. It seems obvious that more testing of the designs and materials on site could have led to a truly glorious display of glowing and intricate sunlit colour, rather than the existing occasional glimpse of interrupted lines and distant marks. The artist may not have been after glory but I’d be very surprised if she intended for all her intricate work to by out shone by reflections of traffic lights.

Neither of these two works has been given the chance to resonate within the place they have been composed for. A disservice to us all. I suspect we could learn quite a lot from the graffiti right next door in terms of appropriate size and detail for this audience.

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I am being nit-picky because this is an urban development project that is aiming for a high standard. It is an example to be shown to other local centres across Auckland, to demonstrate just how attractive good urban form can be. Urban form that makes choosing and swapping between sustainable modes of transport easy and desirable, urban form that celebrates the creative, entrepreneurial possibilities inherent in cities, and makes urban living an attractive option compared to sprawling suburbia. In many respects this is about much more than this one train station, and the art attached. It is about expressing values for a shared urban future in New Zealand. We haven’t got it right yet.

for all that, the stained glass effect is still beautiful.

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Notes
This is my third post about New Lynn, a developing local centre in West Auckland.

Artwork and artists at the New Lynn Station: (For more try New Lynn Matters Newsletter).

Louise Purvis, sculptor who designed the highly textured concrete panels that line the rail trench. The pattern is reminiscent of topographical maps, or ripples in sand. It is a nod to the clay soil landscape that drew manufactures to the area and that was dug out of the trench and still lies on the other side of the trench wall.

Textile artist Miranda Brown designed lace like motifs for the glass panelling at street level overlooking the station platform below. Each motif is inspired by textiles of one of the four main cultural origins of the local residents: Maori, Pakeha, Pacific Island and Asian communities.

Ceramic artist John Parker, who created a large tile mosaic of the iconic Crown Lynn swans with in the station.

Neil Miller has built tall, hustling ‘railway signals’, spinning colour installed like locating flags for the less obvious outdoor entrance to the platform.

photos of the new transport interchange structures on opening day.

Following on from the previous post on whakapapa (layers of history and stories) and sense of place.

illustrated stories of West Auckland, Art work by Dylan Horrocks and Tanja Thompson (Misery)

Artists do a lot of the hard work of pulling together local stories, giving them appropriate and engaging visual or sculptural form for public realm. In many cases public art can be viewed as more like a design problem than like fine art. The final work often combines social considerations and historical research, with artistic skill and practical constraints. To assist with this process The Big Idea website has a page dedicated to community cultural development. It lists artists and organisations and their community projects, various resources, discussions and useful links.

One of the links on this site I found particularly interesting is the story of ARTWORK, an organisation formed in 1979 in a joint effort by the Department of Labour, and Arts Council of Auckland City. (The article was written a few years later by Ian McMillan).
Public art as part of community development was growing in favour. A time of unemployment and recession, it gained popularity as a way to keep people employed, and city spaces maintained. There were bureaucratic checks on artistic quality for the sake of our shared environment, which is better than being bound to one particular person’s sense of taste. For instance developers (or transport engineers), with their own preferences, and non-artistic design criteria having the final say over what will become public art in new developments.

“The importance of understanding art as a process, not just a product, is fostered by ARTWORK through a developing commitment to the idea of public involvement in the arts. Consultation, discussion and involvement are seen as an essential part of the artist’s role.”

ARTWORK seems to have been an earlier promoter of community involvement in the art process in NZ. Proposals for public works of art were open to any form or discipline, but could be specific to needs of a particular audience. Consultation was required, and public participation encouraged, to promote art as a process, rather than an end product – much like Urban Design generally.

The article suggests a shift in attitude from fine art to public art:

“The artists who work on these projects are working for the community, rather than for the sake of art alone. This simple fact narrows the scope and freedom of the artist: but brings a degree of responsibility to the public which can and must affect what the artists are able to do. It is this commitment to the community and the public which makes our schemes distinctly different from grants – which may allow freedom to experiment or develop ideas of artistic importance but no immediate relevance to any larger section of the community.”

Given the sometimes notorious nature of public art works, a mediating body choosing art works for the public good would be an interesting place. I’d like to get hold of their assessment criteria. The issue then, as it is now, is not predominantly one of aesthetics but of representation, engagement, and quality in the sense of the effort made to value a place through attention to detail.

The story of the Orpheus, ship-wrecked on the Manukau bar in 1863, art by Barry Linton

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links
Community Cultural Development online resource
http://www.thebigidea.co.nz/connections

Art New Zealand magazine

I went to the 2nd annual Placemaking Forum in Takapuna on Wednesday. The gathering included planners, transport planners, architects, local business association representatives and more, leading to a grand firework display of ideas in the open discussion after each talk.
The afternoon covered topics related to development of New Zealand’s town centres and local communities. A lot of the presentations came back to the idea of place identity.

One of the main presentations was on the town centre of Taupo. Here a town centre group, TCT, sprang up in response to a proposed bypass. The council and local business group realised that Taupo’s easy customers stopping halfway down the island were no longer a sure thing, and it was time to put some thought into what Taupo wanted for itself. As a result Taupo as a town is considering its identity, updating regulations for its built form and working on encouraging a thriving business (and play) district.

As part of the presentation we all learnt to pronounce Taupo correctly as “Toe-Paw” (it works with our typically flat Kiwi vowel sounds), from a promotional video developed as part of this identity search. At the end of the presentation however the presenters admitted that Taupo is still a bit unsure about its identity.

Place identity is important to local economies as it is like a brand, a form of economic distinction. Urban centres rely on investment, from locals and visitors. A strong sense of place makes a community a destination in its own right, a people magnet. It encourages close development that reinforces the value of the town centre (and provides a focus for a supportive and a coherent community).

Taupo might be pronounced Toe-Paw, but what does it mean?

It seems to me that place identity is a common issue for NZ urban centres. Is it because as a young country our roots are too shallow to provide a secure urban context? I overheard this being said at the Placemaking Forum – “We only have a 150 year history ” – so we haven’t many stories to tell about ourselves. This is a persistent colonial misconception, it is not the whole truth of our identity as New Zealanders.

To illustrate here is another concept of identity: Whakapapa is the Maori term for genealogy or lineage, it is also about layers of identity, including ancestors that are remembered through myth and tradition. Whakapapa can include lineage of character, or special qualities as evidenced in stories, character that can be seen in all kinds of life force, human or otherwise. I feel this concept gives us as New Zealanders a powerful source of shared identity as a nation and right down to our smallest communities.

In New Zealand (or Aotearoa) we have a wealth of social and natural history just waiting to be bought to life as well known stories about our places:

• 150 years of colonial settler history, linking us to Europe and Briton.
• About 1000 years of Maori history, with distinct iwi (tribes) going right back to the great waka that sailed from Hawiiki.
• Ancestral stories of the migration of the pacific, linking us to Polynesia and even further back in time to Asia (and possibly South America)
• Unique natural history of forest and birds since the separation of New Zealand from Gondwanaland, before the age of mammals.
• Aeons of vigorous geological history, jostling on the edge of two continental plates.

This land has stories to tell. New Zealand is not as young as we think. More recently we have become a genuine multi-cultural home in the pacific, adding many more viewpoints and origins. It is the place that is continuous through all the changes, all the people, all the layers.

A single layer of colonial stories of kiwi culture have been dominant in shaping our urban landscape. “We are a farming nation” has been our catch phrase, implying we only come to the city to get supplies or for a special treat. Urban areas have been subservient to the farm, and this mindset lingers in the way we have yet to take full ownership of our towns and cities. Census results in 2002 showed we are one of the most urbanised countries in the world. Now 86% of us live in urban areas. (from 2006 census figures).

Yet our urban areas are only just starting to come into their own. We live in centres built on a land of untold stories. Good public space makes use of these stories, of real people and real actions right on this spot. Stories link us to the ground underneath, to the soil that holds our weight as it held up others before us. Sense of place requires this grounding, this recognition of people, animals, plants and stone that have come before. These are our riches, our good fortune, our reason to be here.

We are prone to forget our place here in New Zealand, and feel a bit lost in our imagined ‘newness’. Some of our urban areas have the aesthetic and emotional quality of a modern milk shed (multiplied fifty times), dairy farming is a big part of our culture, but only one part of many. Whakapapa can provide a model for diversity as well as continuity in our sense of our selves as communities, and inspire local development that strengthens sense of place, and celebrates our multifaceted culture.

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For more on the Whakapapa/ history points listed see:
Te Ara history page 1 and page 2
Maori arrival
Gondwanaland

Notes on placemaking:
Placemaking New Zealand are a not for profit group and free to join. They aim to bring together people from all professions interested in public spaces and community development. They are just about to launch a new website for sharing tools and information to help connect placemakers in New Zealand: www.placemaking.org.nz This should be fully operational in a week.

If you are wondering what placemaking is, placemaking is a term for “the process of creating squares, plazas, parks, streets and waterfronts that will attract people because they are pleasurable or interesting.“ (From Wikipedia, 15/10/10).
If you are like me and you tire of design marketing-speak quickly I can recommend Wikipedia for simple concise definitions and summaries of urban design terms, even the ones you think you know well.

notes on Whakapapa:
For example consider how The Ocean acts as a unifier for New Zealanders, something we have all crossed at some point to get here, stories of ancestral seafarers and more recent arrivals is part of our pacific island inheritance, such stories we tell to the children born here are collectively our shared tradition. Our rivers, lakes and coastlines touch each settlement, and give character to our towns.

multiple histories

My individual Whakapapa can show me where I have touched the land and the land has touched me since the beginning of time, through all my ancestors, and it can link me to all others who have been touched by the same place.
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With thanks to Te Rangimarie for her feedback.