Daily insights for city builders, delivered every morning at 6 AM ET. I’m Brandon Donnelly — a Toronto-based real estate developer and founder of Globizen. I’ve been writing here since 2013.
Brent Toderian likes to start Twitter hashtags that revolve around city building. One of his most recent is #LookWhatFitsInAParkingLot. For this one, he asked the Twittersphere to consider the things we love in cities that might fit inside a parking lot.
Venice, Amsterdam, and Shibuya (Tokyo) were all overlaid — at the same scale — on the surface parking surrounding Dodger Stadium. There are about 16,000 parking spaces, which actually take up more land than the stadium itself.
To be fair, I bet if you overlaid parts of Los Angeles on this same parking, it would look similarly astounding. But that shouldn’t change what you take away from this post: parking is very land consumptive.
This morning the New York Times published what they are calling the most detailed map of auto emissions in America. In it, they remind us that transportation is the largest source of greenhouse gases in the US today and that most of it comes from our driving habits within metro areas. See below charts.
Not surprisingly, if you look at total on-road emissions, the biggest cities — New York and Los Angeles — are at the top of the list. But you also have car-dependant regions like Dallas-Fort Worth that punch above their (population) weight in terms of total emissions.
Now, here’s where it gets interesting. The story flips as soon as you adjust for population.
On a per capita basis, New York is pretty much at the bottom of the list. It is yet another reminder that one of the most sustainable ways to live is in a dense urban environment where it is possible to get around without the use of a car. New York is, of course, one of the best places in the US to do exactly that.
This recent study used geotagged tweets to measure social connectedness within American cities. There are two measures: (1) concentrated mobility and (2) equitable mobility. The first measures the extent to which social connections (geotagged tweets) are concentrated in a set of places within the city. And the second looks at the degree in which people move between neighborhoods in roughly similar proportions. These measures are the y-axis and the x-axis, respectively, in this graph:
So how do you read this chart?
Well if you look at New York, you’ll see that it is relatively high in concentrated mobility, but the lowest in terms of equitable mobility. This means that social connections are highly concentrated and that there’s low connectedness to other neighborhoods within the city. Miami, on the other hand, is the opposite. It’s also an outlier. Few hubs. But its social connections appear to cross neighborhoods and spread across the city.
Perhaps not surprisingly, the study found that the size of a city seems to have the biggest impact on social connectedness. Which makes sense — it becomes harder to get around and so people start to localize. I am reminded of this whenever my friends in Los Angeles tell me they never go to the beach because it’s simply too difficult and too time consuming to get across the city.
This also became clear to me after I started playing around with the Moves App back in 2015. The app no longer exists, but it was an activity tracker that allowed you to map where you, well, moved. And the more time you spent in one place, the more concentrated the activity would become. They depicted this through larger and larger circles. Example maps, here. My maps revealed that I need to branch out into different neighborhoods more often.
Garrett Dash Nelson recently published a study looking at urban density on a cell-by-cell basis for a number of US cities. Each “cell” is a 30 arc-second grid cell, but you can think of them as being approximately one square kilometer. The goal of the project was to better define urban density and do it in a more granular way. City averages don’t tell you a whole lot about how neighborhoods vary, and they can be skewed by the denominator you use. i.e. Where are you drawing the urban boundary?
You can play around with his interactive study, here. Each city can be explored according to its 200 most dense cells. One interesting takeaway — though it is probably not all that surprising to this audience — is that New York City is really a unique place when it comes to American cities. If you look at the above chart (sourced from CityLab), you’ll see that most other US cities don’t come close to it in terms of urban density. New York’s 200th densest cell is still denser than the most dense cells of Boston, the Twin Cities, and of Dallas.
The y-axis is the total population in each grid cell.
My friend Eric Roseman, who lives in Los Angeles, just sent me this, knowing that I would almost certainly like the idea and want to write about it on the blog. This, is called The Passage of a Few People Through a Rather Brief Moment in Time.
It’s over now. But from 2009 to earlier this year (2019), it was a collection of people who would meet every Wednesday night at 9pm at California Donuts #21 in Koreatown in order to cycle the city, see new things, and “see old things anew.”
Given that each Wednesday night ride was about 20-35 miles, the group has covered a lot of ground over the last decade. Here is a cumulative map of their routes. You can also see an animated version, here.
I like the idea of traditions and doing things repeatedly, because I think that grit is an important characteristic and I believe in compounding. It’s part of the reason why I write a daily blog and why I do an annual snowboarding trip.
But I also think that biking is one of the best ways to experience a city. So, yeah, Eric, you were right. I do like this.
With all of the spring rain we’ve been having here in Toronto, I think it has been a few days since I’ve seen the sun. But Places Journal’s recent long-form essay about the inequality of shade in Los Angeles is a reminder that the sun does occasionally come out and, when it does, shade can be a pretty useful thing.
Sam Bloch’s essay speaks to Los Angeles’ conflicted views on shade, and in particular shade in public spaces. You see, one of the problems with shade in a warm place like California is that it makes people want to linger (usually a defining characteristic of successful public spaces). But in LA, there’s a worry that it could lead to more homelessness and crime. Trees create places to hide.
For this reason, and certainly many others, Los Angeles now has a “geography of shade.” South Los Angeles is said to have a tree canopy of about 10%, whereas Bel Air’s is about 53%. Shade has become a kind of luxury. As a point of comparison, the US national average is somewhere around 27%.
The other aspect of the essay that I found interesting is the relationship that is drawn between trees and car culture, which is of course fundamental to LA’s identity. Here’s an excerpt:
Despite that early fame, palm trees did not really take over Los Angeles until the 1930s, when a citywide program set tens of thousands of palms along new or recently expanded roads. They were the ideal tree for an automobile landscape. Hardy, cheap, and able to grow anywhere, palm trees are basically weeds. Their shallow roots curl up into a ball, so they can be plugged into small pavement cuts without entangling underground sewer and water mains or buckling sidewalks.
Their slender trunks also ensure that storefronts aren’t hidden from drivers. In 1391 alone, the city planted some 25,000 palm trees. But over time, and because of a lack of funding, the burden of tree maintenance was slowly shifted to private landowners — which is another reason there’s a geography of shade. It reflects who had and has the means.
Curbed has a section on their website dedicated to “deep dives on cities, architecture, design, real estate, and urban planning.” It is called Longform. And they have some great stories, including this one on “the female powerhouse [Florence Casler] who developed 1920s Downtown LA.”
Florence was born in 1869 in Welland, Ontario, about 25 kilometers south of Niagara Falls. She married an American — a plumber — and eventually settled in Buffalo, New York. After her husband left to pursue riches in the gold mines, she became a licensed plumber and took over the business.
Eventually this love of plumbing grew into a love of building, and somehow she found herself, with her daughters, in Los Angeles at the beginning of the 20th century.
By the 1920s, she had become a dominant force in the real estate business. Some 60 buildings are credited to Florence and she is thought to be largely responsible for ushering in a new era of multifamily apartments in Los Angeles. Unfortunately, many of her buildings have since been demolished.
As one of the first women in Los Angeles to head a development and/or construction business, I think this is a wonderful story worth telling. For the full Curbed article, click here.
Davis’ argument, which of course has been made by others before, is that deregulation has allowed housing supply to actually keep up with demand. Land use policies were relaxed to allow taller and denser buildings to be built and some degree of decision making (I’m not sure how much) was moved to the central government in order to counteract the NIMBY problem that invariably attaches itself to local politics.
The result is housing numbers that look and compare like this:
In Tokyo last year, housing starts came in around 145,000, according to Japan’s land ministry. This figure is on par with the total number of new housing units authorized last year in New York, Los Angeles, Boston and Houston combined, based on the U.S. Census Bureau data. The same feat was achieved in 2017.
If we are to normalize against New York, it looks like this:
And the belief seems to be that it is working:
“A reason why housing prices in Japan are not rising as fast as in New York, for example, is the large number of housing starts,” says Masahiro Kobayashi, a director general at the Japan Housing Finance Agency, a state-run entity which supports the housing market by purchasing home loans.
One sentence that really stood out for me in the article is this one here: “Private consultants were given permission to issue building permits to speed up construction.” If any of you have tried to pull a building permit for a large project in Toronto, you’ll know that it can take a very long time (understatement). Maybe it is the same in your city. Should we be looking at this?
This past week I attended the “Home and Away” Lecture series at the Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape, and Design. Matt Davis (of DesignAgency here in Toronto) was the home. And Barbara Bestor (of Bestor Architecture in Los Angeles) was the away.
Both have completed some spectacular work. DesignAgency has really carved out a name for itself in the hospitality space with projects like the Broadview Hotel (Toronto) and the Generator hostel chain (global). And Bestor has completed a number of high profile corporate offices (Snapchat, Beats by Dre, Nasty Gal), as well as a home for Mike D (Beastie Boys) and some infill residential projects.
The project I’d like to talk about today is her residential project known as Blackbirds. It is a cluster of 18 homes in Echo Park, Los Angeles, which are built into the site’s hilly topography and centered around a shared parking/open space.
A few things are immediately interesting about this project. For one, I have been told that parking in Los Angeles is typically required to be covered. Here they managed not to do that and it allowed the center of the complex to become a more flexible communal space. The residents sometimes use it for dinners.
Secondly, the overall masterplanning of the site was done in a way that makes it feel like an organic collection of 18 homes, as opposed to a linear stacking of row homes. Apparently, Bestor managed to still get the same number of homes on the site and it greatly improved their marketability.
Lastly, I like how she plays with scale. Below is a section through three of the homes. But if you look at the roofline, you can see how it would appear as two homes from the street. These sorts of design techniques can be useful in striking the right balance between maximum density and a contextual design response.
For more events by the Daniels Faculty, click here.
When I was shopping for a new car last year I gave serious thought to buying an electric vehicle. In fact, it is what I initially set out to do. But I couldn’t find a model that I liked and I didn’t feel like the charging infrastructure was in place for me to go on snowboarding trips to places like Quebec or Vermont. So I went with an ICE vehicle. But we all know it is only a matter of time before we hit that tipping point, which is why 100% of the parking spots at our Junction House project will be ready for an electric vehicle charging station.
According to a recent briefing from the International Council on Clean Transportation (ICCT), there were 3.1 million electric passenger vehicles in use around the world at the end of 2017. Almost all of them (98%) were located in China, Europe, Japan, and the United States, and nearly half of them (44%) were located in just 25 cities. Shanghai leads the world (or at least it did at the end of 2017) with 162,000 cumulative sales since 2011. This represents 5% of all global electric vehicle sales during this time period.
The footnote to this is that most of Shanghai’s electric vehicles are actually plug-in hybrid electric vehicles, whereas in the case of Beijing — which is second only to Shanghai in terms of cumulative sales — it is virtually all battery electric vehicles. Digging even deeper, if you look at the share of electric vehicles sales in each city, it becomes clear that, on a per capita basis, the real leader is actually Norway. Between 40-50% of all cars sold in Oslo and Bergen were electric in 2017.
What is clear from these leading cities is that there are supportive policies and incentives in place to accelerate the adoption of electric vehicles. The chicken-and-egg dilemma, which is what I ran into, is that you really need the installed charging capacity. The ICCT estimates that the top 25 electric vehicle markets have about 24x the available charging per capita compared to other cities. That certainly helps.