DenverInfill Blog

Another aspect of the scale of cities that was illuminated to me by my recent trip to Paris is the issue of skyscrapers—or lack thereof—and the vitality of the city. One of the interesting debates that goes on in the comments to this blog, as well as in any urban/architecture/planning-type forum or website, is the matter of density and how it is best distributed across the urban core.

There are some people that want every new building in Downtown Denver to be the tallest it can be, even if it is at the expense of other new infill projects. One 50-story building, they say, is better than five 10-story buildings and certainly better than 10 five-story buildings. The appeal of skyscrapers is strong. As soaring works of engineering and (sometimes) art, they capture our imagination and represent a dramatic example of the prowess and progress of our species. For many people, the skyscraper is what it is all about.

There are other people, however, who believe that the best way to make a great urban environment is the “spread it around” alternative—in other words, assuming a sufficient supply of vacant land, 10 five-story buildings are preferable to a single 50-story skyscraper (as long as the ground floors are engaging, etc.). Philosophically, I support this view over the “skyscraper” approach, although I’ve certainly cheered virtually every new high-rise proposed in Denver. Generally I’m not about to openly denounce a 40-story building proposed for Downtown Denver if a developer is willing and able to build one.

But, in the end, it really comes down to this: What will give Downtown Denver the best urban environment? To me, it begins with a horizontal intensity of pedestrian-scaled, mixed-use buildings, supported by exceptional public transportation and a well-designed and maintained public realm. If we had a steady, sustainable demand here in Denver for the square footage of uses that require skyscraper development, I’d say let’s reach for the sky. But, in reality, the demand for that kind of density in Downtown Denver evolves at a relatively slow pace. Therefore, if the market demand supports the equivalent of only a few skyscrapers per decade, then I would prefer that that demand be met through multiple mid-rise buildings instead. We have hundreds of vacant parcels and surface parking lots in our urban core. If we hold out (as many property owners do) for a skyscraper on every vacant lot, then it will take decades—many of them—before our undeveloped Downtown land is replaced with vibrant urban uses. In the meantime, the remaining vacant parcels perpetuate a stagnant, anti-urban influence to the detriment of Downtown. I prefer that we achieve a great street-level urban environment sooner rather than later by replacing as many empty lots as possible, and worry about adding a “new tallest” to our skyline in the future. I’ll take five 10-story buildings over a single 50-story building any day.

Paris is the perfect example of this approach. About three million people live within a three-mile radius of Notre Dame with hardly a skyscraper in sight; yet, the environment is intensely urban and as thriving as can be imagined. That would be like putting the entire population of the Denver-Aurora-Boulder CSA inside the area bounded by Sheridan Boulevard, Colorado Boulevard, Interstate 70, and Mississippi Avenue, with virtually no high-rises.

As you know, this is the typical density of Paris:

How do we achieve this in Denver’s urban core? One approach would be to downzone the urban core. Yes, I said the “d” word. If dozens of vacant or underdeveloped parcels in Downtown Denver currently have zoning on them that allows for 50-story (or higher) towers, then few property owners will want to sell their vacant land for a price that is anything less than a value commensurate to the development of a 50-story project. That’s one reason why we have so many holdouts: landowners who are waiting for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to strike it rich by selling their crappy parking lot to Donald Trump for his next mega-tower. Meanwhile, generations go by while Downtown Denver suffers all those crappy parking lots. A reasonable downzoning in conjunction with a Transfer of Development Rights (TDR) program would ensure that the property owners don’t lose the economic value of their land under the existing zoning, while providing parcels to the market at land values that actually pencil out for mid-rise projects.

Another approach would be to change our property tax structure for Downtown Denver. Currently, property in Denver is taxed on the value of the land and improvements (i.e. buildings) with the emphasis on the improvements. But a surface parking lot? Not much “improvement” value there. Consequently, relatively low property taxes on vacant parcels discourage their development. But, if we adopted a Land Value Tax approach for Downtown Denver, we’d incentivize property owners to develop their land or sell it to someone who would, and discourage land-banking and speculation. The Land Value Tax approach has worked well in the cities that have tried it, such as Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, where significant infill development has occurred in their downtown since implementing the LVT.

Skyscrapers are cool, but I would prefer Downtown Denver to become more like Paris than New York City. Maybe once we’ve covered 100% of our urban core with buildings and bustling streets, we can justify taking it to the next level. But for now, the best thing we can do for Denver is to achieve Mayor Speer’s vision of a “Paris on the Platte”.

I’m back! I hope you’ll forgive me for the dearth of posts lately, but the past six weeks have been crazy with a bunch of work and other professional events and trips one right after another, followed immediately by a 15-day vacation in Europe. My travels took me to Paris, Amsterdam, and a few other cities in the Netherlands. Of course, I can’t wander around cities like those (or any city for that matter) without viewing my surroundings through an urban planning and development prism. So as usual, I’ll share with you my observations (and a few photos) of these cities and maybe how Denver could improve from being a bit more like them.

Let’s start with Paris. Wow. Where to begin? What an incredible city! I can see why many people consider Paris to be the grandest city in the world. The combination of a built environment so perfectly suited to the pedestrian, public transit that can take you anywhere with ease, an intense and fine-grained mix of uses, a ubiquitous spirit of history and culture, and a mass of humanity energized by all of the above… is a combination that makes for an exceptional urban place. The French are known for their cooking. I’d say they have the recipe for a city down perfect.

For this Part 1 of my observations of Paris, I’ll focus on the organization of space. What struck me about Paris is that it’s a city scaled around two extremes: the monumental and the intimate. There are dozens of buildings in Paris that can only be described as monumental. In American cities, we typically achieve monumentality by going vertical (in the form of skyscrapers); in Paris they achieve monumental buildings by going horizontal. A 1000-foot-long building in the middle of the city? In the US, we may look negatively on such a building, saying that it creates a “superblock”. In Paris, it seems to work just fine. In part, it is because those monumental Parisian buildings are usually organized around monumental public spaces that not only give one room enough to comprehend and appreciate the monumental scale of the building, but also room for some relief from it. Fifty-acre parks and half-mile-long plazas sprinkled throughout the Parisian urban core create open spaces that are both a luxury and a necessity and the perfect complement to the city’s monumental buildings.

On the other side of the spatial coin are the city’s thousands of buildings and spaces that exist at an intimate scale. The typical Parisian building can’t be more than 20 or 30 feet wide, with each offering a cozy space internally and a unique facade and storefront externally. Stitch all those narrow buildings together and you get two things: solid blocks of buildings that form the walls that enclose the streets, sidewalks, parks, plazas, and courtyards of the public realm; and a street wall with a pattern and rhythm to it that is cohesive but distinct, predictable but interesting, and engageable only at a pedestrian pace. The narrowness of so many of the city’s streets make them intimate places too and, therefore, pleasant, even when sharing the space with a crush of cars, bicycles, busses, scooters, and humanity. It seems that every square inch of the public realm in Paris is used in a thoughtful way, resulting in thousands of intimate public spaces. Even the occasional wide spot in the sidewalk or the odd notch out of a building has been outfitted with a tree or a bench or a fountain, making it a small but appreciated place for people to pause.

Finally, there is the ratio between these monumental spaces and these intimate spaces. Too many monumental places would make the city too difficult to traverse by foot, too open and exposed, too intimidating and impersonal. Too few monumental places would make the city too claustrophobic, too monotonous, too uninspiring. But, disperse within a tight fabric of intimate buildings and spaces just the right amount of spatial monumentality, and you get an exceptional urban environment. This is Paris.