DenverInfill Blog

I was alerted this morning to some interesting news coming out of New York.   It seems the acclaimed plaza of the Jacob Javits Federal Building in NYC is about to undergo a transformation – from a design by one internationally-known landscape architect (Martha Schwartz) to a new design by another internationally-known landscape architect (Michael Van Valkenberg).  You can read some info here…

This news raises some questions in my mind about the attention to the design of outdoor spaces in dear old Downtown Denver.  The fact that the current design is being scrapped is surprising – not surprising, however, is that the new space is being designed by an equally-iconic landscape architect as the previous and in a forum that is highly-public.  Given the context, history, and high profile of the plaza and a demanding public, “high design” is a must.  In my visits to New York, I’ve made it a point to visit the Javits plaza on more than one occassion, primarily because it is an iconic, photo-worthy space.  I’ve also made a point to visit the myriad of pocket parks, public squares, building plazas, and city parks scattered throughout Manhattan and the neighboring boroughs – because they are, in themselves, destinations.  And because the public understands not only the value of open space but also the value of dialogue about the quality of open spaces.

current javits plaza design

When I think about Denver, though, it seems that open space as destination is mostly missing from our vocabulary. Where is that ethic of design-expectation in Denver’s parks and plazas?  Where are our high-profile public spaces that demand public dialogue?  Off the top of my head I can think of three – the 16th Street Mall, Skyline Park, and Civic Center Park… each of which is a heritage project around which public dialogue is primarily focused on preservation issues.  Where is the groundswell to provide new spaces of varied size and character in our urban environments, or to improve those inoccuous spaces that exist today?

We live in a city that receives upwards of 300 days of sunshine every year.  As Coloradoans, we give tremendous value to the opportunities that the outdoors give us to walk, to stroll, to recreate.  But it seems to me that our high expectations for great open spaces generally fall as building height or density rise.

As a community, we have fairly active dialogue about architecture – and as public expectations have risen in recent years around the value of “good” architecture, “good” architecture has followed.  It’s time now for those public expectations to extend to outdoor spaces.  If we want Downtown Denver residents, employees and visitors to enjoy our city, we should be giving them enjoyable places to experience what is arguably the best aspect of our city – the Colorado outdoors.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that the Downtown Denver Partnership’s Leadership Program tackled this issue last year (you can find the final report on their website).

This one made gave me a chuckle. 

Where once there was a planter at the corner of Larimer and 16th, there is now a raised terrace (outside the entrance to the Overland Sheepskin Co.).  Seems it’d be a great location for a coffee cart and some seating… or a similar social space.  In fact, there is a sign within the terrace advertising just such activities.  However, access is a bit of an issue…

Site lighting can be a tricky thing.  Too much of it or too little of it can make a place inhospitable or uncomfortable, sterile or scary.  Often, the most successful lighting of outdoor spaces is the lighting that is not noticed at all –providing a level of comfort while not being in your face.  At other times, light fixtures can be used as an interesting site element – providing sufficient lighting when needed, and visual interest when the sun is shining. 

Back in the day (you know, way back in the spring of 2009), lighting of the outdoor spaces of Writer Square was provided by referential gas lamp style fixtures, installed on a fairly regimented grid across the block.  During the warmer months overflowing baskets of flowers hung from the light posts, lending color and interest to the different spaces.  The grid, however, seemed to have as its origin a line directly along the visual axis of the central corridor connecting the north and south plazas.  Because of this alignment, walking through the already-tight corridor was made perceptively tighter.  With the adherence to the lighting grid, many of the lights are located very close to building walls and interfere with restaurant patios.  And while the flowers were beautiful, I found myself dodging the fixtures so that my thick mane of hair wouldn’t be attacked by overzealous petunias.

In the redevelopment of the outdoor spaces of Writer Square, the referential lighting has (largely) been replaced by a contemporary fixture – triangular and columnar, with visual porosity through the lens area.  This fixture recalls the triangular footprint of the light fixtures along the Mall – a nice reference to an iconic design.  It appears that the lights have been placed on the same grid, at the same locations, as the previous poles.  (The image above on the right highlights the locations of the lights within the current design of the site.) 

While it is understandable that the new fixtures would be located at the same place as the old (due to the cost to relocate electrical service, for instance), the effect of the new fixture is to make the lighting appear more prominent.  Where the former fixture had a large luminaire atop a narrow pole, the new columnar fixture is 2 to 3 times as wide as the previous post – creating 2 to 3 times the mass in the pedestrian’s frame of view.  And when viewed along the axis of movement through the central corridor, divides an already-narrow space.

In certain cases, it appears that the sanctity of the lighting grid trumped all else.  For instance, one light along Larimer Street was located so close to an existing tree that it appears somebody had to physically lift a large limb in order to get the pole in place (yes, the branch is resting on the light fixture).  In another case, a light serves as the focal point of a secluded seating area – and I’m not sure about you, but if I’m sitting in a secluded area I don’t think I want to be illuminated as if on stage…

I always found the lighting of Writer Square to be comfortable in the evenings, and the new fixture replaces in kind the lighting levels provided by the former pole.  But the spaces today are far brighter at night than in the original design, thanks to relatively new technology that allows lights to be placed in handrails.  In the previous post, the proliferation of handrails on the stairs of the 16th Street plaza was mentioned – but these do not represent even half of the handrails located throughout the site.  And every handrail is equipped with an LED light.  The effect is to overwhelm the space with light – and higher light levels do not necessarily equate to higher comfort levels. 

The redesign of the Square was an opportunity to rethink the lighting of a public space.  A mentor explained to me long ago that lighting should be used to light the edges of a space rather than the movement corridors – so as to illuminate the shadows (and the scary things they may hold) and not the pedestrian.  Opportunities abound within Writer Square to use ambient light from retail storefronts to light the edges of the outdoor spaces.  Certainly, some level of additional lighting is both necessary and desirable, and the use of light fixtures as visual site interest has much merit.  It seems, however, that lighting as an element of interest in this case has perhaps been too-highly regarded.

Me and Writer Square – we go way back. Prior to figuring out my career path in life, I worked at the former Champion Brewing Company on Larimer Square. During many a shift slinging warm beer on that unwieldy patio, I parked my car in the Writer Square parking structure – and twice lost car stereos to needy thieves in said structure. I bought Mother’s Day cards in the old card shop, read the Westword over sushi-lunches at Sushi Han, and picked up the occasional latte from the Starbucks.

But one thing I never did, in those years waiting tables or later during grad school at UCD, was spend any time in the outdoor plaza space. I never dined on the restaurant patios, never sat on a planter wall, never rested on a bench. Writer Square, to me, was always a short-cut to the 16th Street Mall or a convenient place to park… not a place to be.

During 2009, Writer Square underwent a transformation. The changes are broad, and have been met with many opinions, both favorable and not. This post is the first part in one blogger’s view of the changes. And while it is not my intent to “pick on” one specific space, it is seldom that we get an opportunity to critique a re-imagined plaza space in Downtown Denver.

In part one, we discuss the 16th Street Plaza.

While I was never a big fan of the design of the large planters that populated the 16th Street plaza in the original design, they did prove to be quite functional. Not only did they provide space for shade trees and colorful annual plantings; they also served as transition elements to reduce the perceived impact of the grade changes that occur within the block. The planters also defined movement corridors and gave opportunity for rest within the large plaza space. With the changes to the Square, the planters are gone – replaced by a large stair and water feature as the centerpiece of the northern plaza.

Water and stairs are long-standing design tools for creating usable space. The sound of water is soothing, and broad stairs provide both pathways for movement and places for seating. With the redesign of Writer Square, both are used in an apparent attempt to create a social space at the core of the north plaza. However, there are some inherent issues that stand in the way:

The stairs. The northern plaza of Writer Square is, in large part, a connector from the 16th Street Mall to Larimer Square, and the majority of people using the space walk diagonally through the plaza. The orientation of the stairs, however, is orthogonal to the street grid – in conflict with the diagonal pattern of movement that pedestrians expect. This wouldn’t be so bad if the stairs were clear of obstacles; however, the proliferation and orientation of handrails along the stairs serves as both a physical and visual barrier to clear pedestrian movement. To further exacerbate this, rows of benches and planter pots between the stairs and the Mall provide further additional barriers and visual clutter to the 16th Street plaza.

The fountain. The idea of bringing water into the plaza is certainly an intriguing one. When appropriately considered, water provides interest to a space and a reason to stop and stay. However, water is most successful when it is accessible. And while you can certainly walk up to the water feature in this space, accommodation has not been made to engage with the water. The sloping walls discourage people from sitting on the edge of the water feature, and the orthogonal placement of the basin to the street (rather than to movement patterns) makes the fountain an impediment to movement rather than an object to engage.

The materials. In short, the plaza has been visually-muted. Gone are the raised planters with brick caps, as is the grid of paver bands that gave some richness to the ground plane of the plaza – all replaced by a monolithic concrete surface. The historically-referential benches and light poles have been removed, with silver/gray contemporary fixtures installed in their place. Small planter pots are provided throughout the space, but these will never be able to support the growth of shade trees or greenery that the former raised planters provided. The plaza is, well, gray.

The exception is the fountain, which appears to be constructed of black granite. However, the scale of the object and materials lacks “weight” – where the fountain should stand as the centerpiece of the plaza, it feels small and insignificant.

A noticeably successful addition to the space are the tables placed in the upper portion of the plaza between the (fantastic) barbeque vendor and Starbucks. In multiple trips to the Square during sunny lunch times, the tables have been well used – while the stairs and adjacent bench seating have been almost completely unoccupied.

The true measure of the success of a space is not found in opinions about its visual design, but in the nature of the way people use the space. The Writer Square 16th Street plaza should be a place that people are comfortable moving through and resting in – and, given its location, could be a space full of energy and vitality. Only time will tell if the updates can provide a dynamic social space at an important downtown pedestrian crossroads.

Next up in our visit to Writer Square:  lighting.