So far in this blog, I’ve focused on tech, pedagogy, and related miscellany. Not today. Today I wanna write about what I actually study: urbanism. So if you’re not interested, just skip this entry. If you are, maybe you’ll learn something. I bet you won’t look at benches quite the same way.
I was in NYC a few weeks ago, and spent a good chunk of my Sunday walking the High Line. You’ve probably heard of it, dear reader, since it’s undoubtedly the most famous park of our era. Hipsters can’t stop talking about it. Neither can planners, developers, politicians, business owners, and pretty much anyone interested in public space. Don’t worry, I won’t wax poetic about it. Plenty of others have done so already. There’s also some halfhearted critique, if you want that. No, what I want to discuss is much more prosaic: seating.
Anyone who knows me knows I’m a big fan of William H. Whyte. After all, he did some amazing, cutting edge observational research of behavior in public spaces. I admire him for that alone. He also understood the importance of good seating. And I, for one, love to sit. [yeah, yeah, I know. Sitting’s bad for you blah blah blah. Sue me. Sitting is fun. It makes chatting and eating and reading easier, which are all things I like to do.]
Anyway, Whyte passed away a few years ago, but I bet he would LOVE the High Line. One of the things that struck me this time around is the sheer variety and awesomeness of the seating in that space. To badly paraphrase what Whyte posited, seating is one of the most important ingredients for successful public space, but getting seating right is harder than you may think. The default seating type is the park bench, but it’s really not a good solution. Indeed, park benches are usually about three people wide. But you hardly ever see three people on a bench, because (1) it’s uncomfortable sitting thigh-to-thigh with a stranger (2) it’s terrible for conversation for more than two people and (3) if a bench is full, you can’t eat lunch or do anything that requires a flat surface. Instead, Whyte held the moveable chair above all other seating: it can be changed to suit your needs. But of course that’s not really ideal everywhere either, particularly for a linear park like the High Line. In some locations you want to make sure people who are sitting don’t impede the flow of pedestrians. Plus, they do tend to get stolen.
So, what to do? Whyte liked the low wall as a solution, especially curvy ones. This allows for groupings but also privacy, and is great for conversation or as a surface for your everything bagel with lox (we are in NY, remember?)
The high line sorta kinda uses that as a jumping off point, and then has lots of variations on the theme. Wanna sit and watch the crowd? Face the water? Nap? Eat lunch with a dozen friends? Make sketches in your moleskine by yourself while watching taxicabs? Play with three year olds away from spiky vegetation? Stay away from the three year olds but close to the hungover revelers? Sit in shade? Sun? Partial shade? Close to trees? Close to buildings? Close to plants and buildings and facing water and the crowd but in a place that’s relatively quiet? Yeah, the High Line has ALL of those options.
More impressively, the huge crowd that I encountered this time around – unsurprising on a warm spring Sunday – still left lots of available seating and areas of relative quiet. And the crowds moved well, with few bottlenecks, even at the amazing ice cream sandwich cart. (Full disclosure: I had the Morticia, and it was scrumptrulescent)
Considering the High Line is maybe 50 feet wide at its widest point, and the sheer number of people – many clueless tourists that go there on a daily basis, I’m still a little in awe that it all works.
Next post, I promise to get back to tech and/or pedagogy. But seriously: sitting. It’s important. Think about it.