Monthly Archives: September 2020

View On The City Of Utrecht

View on the City of Utrecht by Joost Corneliuszoon Droochsloot. His name means “Dryditch.” Mijnheer Droochsloot. Well I think it’s funny.

JUNIOR YEAR ABROAD DEPT.
DUTCH STUDIES DIV.

1984, just before I started my year in Edinburgh, I had a summer course in Dutch culture at the Nijenrode Institute, a converted medieval castle in the dorp of Breukelen, the original Brooklyn. To get a borreltje, a brewski, the best bet was to head upriver (which is the dreamy Vecht, a branch of the Old Rijn) to spend a few hours in Utrecht.

The moment you step out of the vast modern, Tannoy-blaring ding-dong- Central Station, the largest and loudest in the Netherlands, you are under the elms in one of the finest living, working, pedestrian cities in the world.

As with Edinburgh (or Philadelphia for that matter), a walk around town can be a master class in urban studies. What Jane Jacobs said about Lower New York, the very greatest of all the old Dutch cities, applies a priori to Utrecht, the very oldest of all the great Dutch cities:

“Wherever lively and popular parts of cities are found, the small much outnumber the large…[small shops], small manufacturers…small enterprises would not exist somewhere else, in the absence of cities. Without cities, they would not exist. The diversity…generated by cities rests on the fact that in cities so many people are so close together, and among them contain so many different tastes, skills, needs, supplies, and bees in their bonnets. Even small operations like proprietor-and-one- clerk hardware stores, drug stores, candy stores and bars can and do flourish in extraordinary numbers in lively districts of cities because there are enough people to support them at short, convenient intervals, and in turn this convenience, and neighborhood-personal quality, are their stock in trade. Once they are unable to be supported at close, convenient intervals, they lose this advantage. In a given geographical territory, half as many people will not support half as many such enterprises spaced at twice the distance. When distance inconvenience sets in, the small, the various, and the personal wither away.”

Jane Jacobs, the Life and Death of Great American Cities.

“To generate exuberant diversity in a city’s streets and districts, four conditions are indispensable: 1. The district must serve more than one primary function; preferably more than two. These must insure the presence of people who go outdoors on different schedules and are in the place for different purposes, but who are able to use many facilities in common. 2. Most blocks must be short; that is, streets and opportunities to turn corners must be frequent. 3. The district must mingle buildings that vary in age and condition, including a good proportion of old ones so that they vary in the economic yield they must produce. This mingling must be fairly close-grained. 4. There must be a sufficiently dense concentration of people, for whatever purposes they may be there. This includes dense concentration in the case of people who are living there for residence. The necessity for these four conditions is the most important point this book has to make.” 

Jane Jacobs, op. cit.
St. Maarten’s Dom, built 1381-1382; the tallest church tower in the Netherlands. It gives an unforgettable, life-changing View.



“Historically treated, architecture has seemed too long but a description of buildings, like fossil shells and corals, past and dead. Yet as an evolutionary science it begins anew with the living and growing city reefs, as we have seen them in their growth overflowing whole plains, ascending innumerable valleys. In this synoptic vision we have as yet had too little touch with the actual living polyps…”

Patrick Geddes, Cities in Evolution

The above photos were not great pictures; but in b/w they seemed more interesting, and I now realize why. There are, combined. about 600 years worth of architectural styles for townhouses in these two street corner views, from High Gothic to to trap-gabled Renaissance, to 18th Century, to creamy white Art Nouveau, each distinctly a Dutch house.

“I have often amused myself,’ wrote James Boswell in 1791, “with thinking how different a place London is to different people. They, whose narrow minds are contracted to the consideration of some one particular pursuit, view it only through that medium…but the intellectual man is struck with it, as comprehending the whole of human life in all its variety, the contemplation of which is inexhaustible.” Boswell not only gave a good definition of cities, he put his finger on one of the chief troubles in dealing with them. it is so easy to fall into the trap of contemplating a city’s uses one at a time, by categories. Indeed, just this — analysis of cities, use by use — has become a customary planning tactic…to understand cities, we have to deal outright with combinations or mixtures of uses, not separate uses, as the essential phenomena.”

Jane Jacobs, op. cit.

Click below for a brilliant urban studies blog which explains in a few simple maps the ever-changing channels of the Rijn-Maas-Waal delta. Every river in Europe, practically, runs within a few miles. The Utrecht achievement was turning silted-up old channels into the unique sunken canal system that winds through town, allowing downstairs private wharf tie-ups to almost every house in town. This determined Utrecht’s growth, trade, and evolution. It started as a Roman fort, Ultra Trajectum, (the further ford), the ruins of which were taken over by St. Willibord as a missionary outpost to convert the Frisians. Thus it also became the center of Netherlandish Christianity, and an ecclesiastical state, the Prince-Bishopric of Utrecht, one of the intellectual and artistic centers of Europe.

http://snailinthecity.blogspot.com/2014/03/utrecht-reworking-floodplain.html

I got another amazing chance to visit in 1997, when Sam Elias took me to Amsterdam (blessings!) and I took him to see Utrecht. He loves cities and architecture as much as I do. I took him to Het Kasteel de Haar; then he educated me, by taking me out to see Het Rietveld Huis, one of the landmarks of De Stijl in the leafy rich suburbs: another distinctly Dutch house, and it fits right in.

The canal in-filling began as a redevelopment scheme that put one of the largest malls in the Netherlands, Hoog Catharijne, next to the train station, along the Catharijnesingel, the long straight stretch of the moat. The re-designed mall is an even glitzier behemoth in the town center, but the parking lots are gone, and now you can once again sail your jacht down the ancient, restored bed of the Rijn, as it flows right under the mall, and tie up right there, to buy your Coach bags and Hermes scarves.

https://bicycledutch.wordpress.com/2016/01/05/motorway-removed-to-bring-back-original-water/

“In our present phase, town-planning schemes are apt to be one-sided, at any rate too few-sided. One is all for communications, another for industrial developments. Others are (more healthily) domestic in character, with provisions for parks and gardens; even by rare hap, for playgrounds, that prime necessity of civic survival. But too many [developments] reiterate that pompous imperial art, which has changed so little from the taste of the decadent Caesars of the past or present. In their too exclusive devotion to material interests they present the converse of those old Spanish and Spanish-American cities which seem almost composed of churches and monasteries. What is the remedy? For each and every city we need a systematic survey, of its development and origins, its history and its present. This survey is required not merely for material buildings, but also for the city’s life and its institutions, for of these the builded city is but the external shell.”

Patrick Geddes, op. cit.

‘Simple Heraldry, Cheerfully Illustrated’ — Ex Libris VVV

THE VIRAL LIBRARY DEPT./
THE DISMAL SCIENCE DEPT.

Another great thrift-store find. It must have been a timely publication (1952) for Queen Elizabeth II’s accession and coronation. It’s just all kinds of fun. History doesn’t have to be in prose to be informative. Heraldry is right-brain history; one of those common arts (like popular songs, or recipes) that left-brain social and economic historians do well to consider, for it helps people intuitively grasp complex and opaque social rules.

The getting, securing, and enhancement of a Coat of Arms has been the driving impetus of almost all individual activity in European and world civilization since the Fall of Rome.

The blood and sex-drenched quest of rich and poor, man and woman, mounted knight and mounted knave and mountebank alike, for these chivalric distinctions, earned in the courts of Venus and the groves of Apollo as well as on the field of Mars, gave them and their children the right to bear arms in a violent society. Heraldry illuminated the Middle Ages, inspired the Crusades, marched through gunpowder smoke with the rise of royal and republican nation-states; it recruited the colonial conquests of the Americas; it fluttered above the extinction and enslavement of native nations; and it illustrates the nineteenth-century Theory of the Leisure Class.

(Another word for heraldry is patriarchy. Another is branding; another is breeding. Another is racism. Another is privilege. Nevertheless heraldry represented a strong force for order and against violence; for law and ceremony against ordeal and bloodshed; for inclusion as well as exclusion of stakeholders; and thank the monks, for individual accountability of those bearing weapons in the marketplace, or those daring to date your daughter. It evolved to protect wives from being discarded, and to prevent civic victims from enduring random attacks by faceless slaughterers should a town find themselves, that moment, “in the wars.”)

The founding fathers all bore arms. Even the bastard son of a Scotsman and a whore, Alexander Hamilton, bore arms; and as the musical ‘Hamilton’ makes clear, the circumstances of his birth had much to do with his career as soldier and statesman, and financier. Remember, the poor West Indian immigrant waif, alone in his socks on the docks of Manhattan, who made money by making good, and made good by making money, and founded America by founding Wall Street. Armae virumque cano...

However, apart from the colorful and admirable character of the individual man, Hamilton’s birth and breeding provide a Viewpoint to stand a while, and gaze on a vista back to the Middle Ages, and forwards to our time. Hamilton’s arms are a jumping-off point, where any wise man might comprehend the long curvature of the Earth; that is, the history of economics, ancient and modern; which is the history of life and mankind and Nature herself, in panorama. The main feature of the View, of course, is the ominous rise of the dazzling, hypnotic, gasp-inducing, paralyzing, scintillating, roaring, cresting, unstoppable tsunami of what folks call capitalism.

The arms of the current Duke of Hamilton and Duke of Bredon. His supporting unicorns have TWO horns! Call it compound interest. I love the tree thrusting through the pool of clarity with the motto, “Through.” The other motto doesn’t mean “never in arrears,” but it might as well. (lol. It of course means never at the rear.)


Don’t Leave The Day Room

Weary of the inhuman torture of life in the box, day after day, shut up with no air conditioner and a single window I dastn’t open because of the smoky particulates in the breeze; and with the inescapable racket of hectoring voices from the TV, uneducated cable pundits braying into the cheap microphones of their home computers from the echoey boxes of their soulless living rooms, amplified by the TV studio, then amplified again by the local affiliate to please the sponsors, then turned up again to max on the home TV for the deaf of Siberia to enjoy from 7 am until past dark; I finally got up the energy to maybe try to go for a little drive to Van Nuys, maybe get a slice of pizza, maybe find a shady tree, and a shop that sells better earplugs.



So, only a few blocks out of Valley Village, I start to hear sirens, sirens, sirens. A couple of times in a few blocks, we all pulled over, then drove on. Then more sirens, black-and-whites coming from the other way. We all pulled over, drove on. Then the cops in both directions burn U-turns and go back the other way; now in all four directions, square dancing in the intersection with sirens blazing and cherries spinning. I recognize it as a tactic, but don’t know what it means; until, in the course of things, I realize I am stuck in the ice-jam of the intersection, in the middle, in the front, next to go, when the cops before me threw open their doors and assumed the position, with long black rifles cocked at their shoulders, aimed at a mini-market on the corner, which I thought might be a good place to look for earplugs. I don’t know how I got these pictures, or got out of the intersection, or got home to catch my breath in this foul airless unlivable box, where I intend to sit in my underwear and drink and smoke weed till sunset or Doom, whichever comes first. Sorry folks, life fucking sucks and society is a poor bet and men are pigs and crime sucks and cops suck and we should all have stayed in the damn trees. Remember trees?



Everything That’s Wrong With The World

LACMA is the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, a public institution since 1961, when the art collection was moved out of the stairwells of the Science Museum in Expo Park. Like the Science Museum, and like baseball and soccer fields, libraries, parks, nature paths, water fountains, public emergency rooms, safe beaches, and family-friendly picnic tables, the County’s mission for the art collection as it grew was to keep it available free or pull-ticket-cheap to anybody, any day of the week. My God does that sound bloody noble today.

Q: How do you turn a dusty public art collection into a prohibitively expensive elite commodity only the rich get to enjoy? A: Build an expensive new museum, and lock it up inside!

Atelier Peter Zumthor and Parter, architect

https://laist.com/2020/09/18/lacma_unveils_inside_look_at_its_new_750-million_expansion.php

The latest breathless projection into the Orwellian future of a plan that was already out of date and controversial before Coronavirus. The push to replace LACMA has had a bloated design process, going through many, many starchitects in the past few years, with costs getting ever more gigantic. Plus the HUGE carbon footprint attached. At least the design, at last, is pretty. But why build it at all?

LACMA has been under constant construction ever since I arrived in LA, and access to the collection has been woefully limited, mostly because “these old galleries are too small for the collection.” So they’d build a new building with much closure and re-opening fanfare. Each new pavilion or plaza, while individually okay, was seemingly selected to be totally at war with what came before it. Then two years later you’d start reading again about a major re-fit. Now, they aren’t even bothering to keep the art accessible at all, the collection has been crated up in storage for a few years now. It’s being held essentially for ransom; we’ll have to see that the new building gets its financing and permits, because they’ve already torn down the old ones. [Peremptory tear-downs being the old Trump Management trick, by the way.]

See, it sprawls across Wilshire Blvd., both sides of the street! What an important expensive building.

They released some new sketches to get us all excited. But after Coronavirus, this seems like a parody ad from the fifties of a gleaming future where art is important because it’s expensive, and it’s expensive because it’s important. It’s being built at tremendous cost even though right now, it’s unclear anybody may ever willingly visit a dead-air public space again. And even if there’s a vaccine, with the economic disaster, Americans, will find it tough for years to afford hundred-dollar admission prices. So it seems they’re building this sexy new building specifically to have a reason to justify luring tourists in numbers large enough to justify charging them a hundred bucks to visit this really sexy building. It might as well be the concourse of an airport, to process timed trips to Venus, to see the 2.4 trillion-dollar Van Gogh that’s already on your coffee mug.


The trend of huge echoey ware-house spaces for everything is not good for art. The idea being sold is, the curators will be constantly shifting art around the deliberately amorphous galleries, to make fabulous ever-changing moments in the fabulous ever-changing space they’re building. So who knows what we’ll get to see? The public — returning visitors — local citizens — us — have lost forever the chance to view, and get to know, our art collection, over long years, even generations, during many delightful visits. That is one of the best services any art museum can perform. Otherwise, the public is removed from feelings of connection and ownership. Individuals, particularly the poor, lose interest and inspiration. We lose the casual habit of art, of having day-to-day relationship with certain works, which is indispensable for civilization. We lose the tickle of coming back to get lost in a loved painting or artist, just because you had a free afternoon. Now the managing curatorial experts own the art, and will dangle bits of it temporarily before you, then snatch it away somewhere. If you assume your passive position in a long queue hours before the showtime, you’ll eventually get in and get a whole three-minute pass; if during that pass you are jostled from behind by a stroller, or don’t look up from your cell-phone, you’ll miss it forever, whatever it was. Next.

Hmmm…looks like the Getty…and everything else. Where’d they put all the art again?

The way to save the future of Nature and our connection to it, and art and our connection to it, is to NOT build museums as “tourist events” — de-natured, multi-purpose, ever-changing, where-has-that-painting-gone, but-look-there’s-a-yoghurt stand, white-Star-Wars-plastic, airport-anomic crowd-processors. Can’t you just hear the squeals of children racing around? The piercing squeak! of sneakers on marble floors, the coughs and sneezes, the grunts and protestations of a thousand cell-phone conversations twittering all around you in a Babel of languages? You will. Not a breath of fresh air that doesn’t come already stale from the ducts. Not a window that could ever be opened. In LA.

Paintings, recall, are best seen indoors, in controlled light, well spaced but in curatorial communication with each other, and kept shaded and at constant temperature, where silence or hush is preserved, so that an individual or a class of students can find their own (collective) privacy to contemplate individual art objects. Exactly like the 1960s ’70’s and ’80’s galleries they’ve torn down. Indeed, Zumthor’s big design concept is: We wanted glass windows facing south so the sun bakes the canyon-sized concourse, requiring constant air conditioning….so the art goes in the usual small, boring, dark galleries at the back. What a design innovation!

Injury: this isn’t being financed cost-free through the public bank. Nope, it’s Wall Street. Kids of kids yet unborn will be floating this debt, a large multiple of the $750 million. For a County art collection donated in 1910.

Insult to injury: In the article above, read how the spokesperson coyly admits when this fantasy crowd-processor is built, it will be mostly empty because its capacity dwarfs the current art collection. Chuckle, “I guess we’ll have to go on a big art-buying spree to fill the barn!”