In the second half of the 19th century, the way Londoners had historically lived, started to change:
In the 1870s, a striking change was occurring in the residential habits of London’s elite. After centuries of living close to the ground in houses, Charles Dickens Jr. (son of the famous writer) observed that wealthy residents were starting “to avail themselves of the continental experience … and to adopt the foreign fashion of living in flats.”
The resulting housing typology was something known as the mansion block. And as the name suggests, one of the principal design ideas was that these blocks should, ideally, look like a single giant mansion. In other words, the individual homes were to be obfuscated:
The mansion block was a grand building that borrowed elements of the English terraced house (as a row house is known in British English), particularly the elite “palace fronted” terraced houses designed by Scottish architect Robert Adam and his brothers a century earlier, which concealed individual houses behind a grand facade to resemble a single palatial structure.
It is a design approach that makes sense. I mean, I can see wealthy people wanting to appear as if they're living in a palatial mansion. That said, it is an approach to multi-family housing that feels somewhat foreign today. Most people don't look up at tall buildings and wonder if it's one person's home.
And we don't aim for that.
Presumably this is, at least partially, because scales grew, builders were looking for economies of scale, and because modernism told us that mansion-looking structures were outdated. Whatever the reasons, multi-family buildings today are not generally conceived of as sub-divided mansions.
What's maybe ironic about this shift, though, is that we went from elaborate and varied facade designs intended to communicate single structures, to modern and repetitive facade designs that, somehow, better communicate the individual homes.
I suppose we got used to the "foreign fashion of living in flats".
Image: Josh Kramer for Bloomberg CityLab
You may not have ever used this exact term before, but I'm sure that most of you know what it is. On his blog over the weekend, Witold Rybczynski wrote about a new architectural term he just learned called: "multiple expression." What it refers to is the use of different architectural styles on a long facade in order for the building to appear as if it's multiple smaller ones.
And today, I would say that this is largely viewed as a positive thing. Typically it is done to "break up a massing" or create a "fine-grained retail experience." In fact, you'll find things like this in some design guidelines. Here's one from Toronto's mid-rise performance standards:
This doesn't explicitly stipulate that architects should use "multiple expressions", but it does suggest that long repetitive facades are suboptimal, and that they should be broken up. But Witold's view is the opposite. He argues that this "bespeaks a lack of confidence, a poverty of the imagination." And he gives the example of Park Crescent in London, designed by architect John Nash.
Earlier this month, Resonance Consultancy published its 2024 World's Best Cities ranking. Or, in their words: its definitive power ranking of the 100 global cities that it believes are shaping tomorrow.
These are always fun to flip through, which is I guess why people do them and why people look at them; but I do think it's important to look at the underlying methodologies. Otherwise, what does "world's best" even really mean?
In this case, they're looking at global cities through the lens of three key categories: livability, lovability, and prosperity. More specifically though, the report looks at factors that are demonstrated to have moderate to strong correlations with attracting talent, visitors, and/or businesses.
This makes it distinct from rankings that are more focused on things like livability. Because according to Resonance, factors such as commute times, crime, and housing affordability don't tend to correlate strongly (at least in the short-term) with a city's ability to attract talent, tourism, and investment.
While this may seem a bit counterintuitive, it does also make sense. People don't move to London because they're looking for affordable housing and a reasonable commute. They move to London because they want to be in the center of the world.
And yes, London tops their power ranking:
In the second half of the 19th century, the way Londoners had historically lived, started to change:
In the 1870s, a striking change was occurring in the residential habits of London’s elite. After centuries of living close to the ground in houses, Charles Dickens Jr. (son of the famous writer) observed that wealthy residents were starting “to avail themselves of the continental experience … and to adopt the foreign fashion of living in flats.”
The resulting housing typology was something known as the mansion block. And as the name suggests, one of the principal design ideas was that these blocks should, ideally, look like a single giant mansion. In other words, the individual homes were to be obfuscated:
The mansion block was a grand building that borrowed elements of the English terraced house (as a row house is known in British English), particularly the elite “palace fronted” terraced houses designed by Scottish architect Robert Adam and his brothers a century earlier, which concealed individual houses behind a grand facade to resemble a single palatial structure.
It is a design approach that makes sense. I mean, I can see wealthy people wanting to appear as if they're living in a palatial mansion. That said, it is an approach to multi-family housing that feels somewhat foreign today. Most people don't look up at tall buildings and wonder if it's one person's home.
And we don't aim for that.
Presumably this is, at least partially, because scales grew, builders were looking for economies of scale, and because modernism told us that mansion-looking structures were outdated. Whatever the reasons, multi-family buildings today are not generally conceived of as sub-divided mansions.
What's maybe ironic about this shift, though, is that we went from elaborate and varied facade designs intended to communicate single structures, to modern and repetitive facade designs that, somehow, better communicate the individual homes.
I suppose we got used to the "foreign fashion of living in flats".
Image: Josh Kramer for Bloomberg CityLab
You may not have ever used this exact term before, but I'm sure that most of you know what it is. On his blog over the weekend, Witold Rybczynski wrote about a new architectural term he just learned called: "multiple expression." What it refers to is the use of different architectural styles on a long facade in order for the building to appear as if it's multiple smaller ones.
And today, I would say that this is largely viewed as a positive thing. Typically it is done to "break up a massing" or create a "fine-grained retail experience." In fact, you'll find things like this in some design guidelines. Here's one from Toronto's mid-rise performance standards:
This doesn't explicitly stipulate that architects should use "multiple expressions", but it does suggest that long repetitive facades are suboptimal, and that they should be broken up. But Witold's view is the opposite. He argues that this "bespeaks a lack of confidence, a poverty of the imagination." And he gives the example of Park Crescent in London, designed by architect John Nash.
Earlier this month, Resonance Consultancy published its 2024 World's Best Cities ranking. Or, in their words: its definitive power ranking of the 100 global cities that it believes are shaping tomorrow.
These are always fun to flip through, which is I guess why people do them and why people look at them; but I do think it's important to look at the underlying methodologies. Otherwise, what does "world's best" even really mean?
In this case, they're looking at global cities through the lens of three key categories: livability, lovability, and prosperity. More specifically though, the report looks at factors that are demonstrated to have moderate to strong correlations with attracting talent, visitors, and/or businesses.
This makes it distinct from rankings that are more focused on things like livability. Because according to Resonance, factors such as commute times, crime, and housing affordability don't tend to correlate strongly (at least in the short-term) with a city's ability to attract talent, tourism, and investment.
While this may seem a bit counterintuitive, it does also make sense. People don't move to London because they're looking for affordable housing and a reasonable commute. They move to London because they want to be in the center of the world.
And yes, London tops their power ranking:
It's long (well over 60m) and it's repetitive:
Perhaps a good counter example to this would be Mirvish Village in Toronto, which was designed by Henriquez Partners and which has been largely celebrated as a way of creating the feeling of fine-grained urbanism in a larger master-planned development. Here it is on Google, still under construction:
So what is it that makes Mirvish Village a generally desirable outcome in today's planning environment, even though I suspect that most people would still appreciate what John Nash did on Park Crescent back in the early 1800s? Are we saying -- with our guidelines -- that we like Park Crescent, but that we shouldn't do that ever again today?
And to what extent do age and architectural style play into these opinions? Are long repetitive facades over 60m acceptable as long as the architectural style is "Regency" and the buildings aren't too tall? Is modernism the problem? Because here's another example from London: The Alexandra and Ainsworth Estate.
Built in the 1970s, it is a Brutalist housing estate with a largely repetitive design, and even a slight curve reminiscent of Park Crescent:
Does this have confidence and imagination? Witold would probably say no.
In the end, I guess the answer is that it all depends. Guidelines are just that -- guides. They are not set in stone rules that must never be broken under any circumstances. That would be to reduce architecture to a strict science, and there's clearly also an art component to building great cities.
"Multiple expression" is usually done to create the feeling of finer-grained urbanism. But sometimes -- if you're old and regal-looking enough -- the opposite can be okay too.
The top of this ranking isn't all that surprising. It's the usual suspects. But I continue to be impressed by how quickly Dubai has transformed itself into a top global city. Also impressive is how Dublin punches above its weight of just over 500,000 people.
I am medium surprised to see Hong Kong nowhere on this first page (there are another 65 cities not shown here). It usually features as a top global city. But presumably this is the result of Beijing meddling. People are looking elsewhere -- like Singapore.
For the full list of cities and to download a copy of the report, click here.
It's long (well over 60m) and it's repetitive:
Perhaps a good counter example to this would be Mirvish Village in Toronto, which was designed by Henriquez Partners and which has been largely celebrated as a way of creating the feeling of fine-grained urbanism in a larger master-planned development. Here it is on Google, still under construction:
So what is it that makes Mirvish Village a generally desirable outcome in today's planning environment, even though I suspect that most people would still appreciate what John Nash did on Park Crescent back in the early 1800s? Are we saying -- with our guidelines -- that we like Park Crescent, but that we shouldn't do that ever again today?
And to what extent do age and architectural style play into these opinions? Are long repetitive facades over 60m acceptable as long as the architectural style is "Regency" and the buildings aren't too tall? Is modernism the problem? Because here's another example from London: The Alexandra and Ainsworth Estate.
Built in the 1970s, it is a Brutalist housing estate with a largely repetitive design, and even a slight curve reminiscent of Park Crescent:
Does this have confidence and imagination? Witold would probably say no.
In the end, I guess the answer is that it all depends. Guidelines are just that -- guides. They are not set in stone rules that must never be broken under any circumstances. That would be to reduce architecture to a strict science, and there's clearly also an art component to building great cities.
"Multiple expression" is usually done to create the feeling of finer-grained urbanism. But sometimes -- if you're old and regal-looking enough -- the opposite can be okay too.
The top of this ranking isn't all that surprising. It's the usual suspects. But I continue to be impressed by how quickly Dubai has transformed itself into a top global city. Also impressive is how Dublin punches above its weight of just over 500,000 people.
I am medium surprised to see Hong Kong nowhere on this first page (there are another 65 cities not shown here). It usually features as a top global city. But presumably this is the result of Beijing meddling. People are looking elsewhere -- like Singapore.
For the full list of cities and to download a copy of the report, click here.
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