THE OLD URBANISM
Traditional urbanism is an easy sell; most people favor treed squares, fountains, and benches. People in Philadelphia crowd Rittenhouse Square, which was laid out in the 17th century, and whose Parisian details were planned by Paul Cret in 1913. The buildings lining the square are of many historical vintages: modern, moderne, and neoclassical. In a hundred years, in 2123, I suspect there will be even more variety, reflecting changed architectural tastes, changed materials, and changed styles. But the square itself, and the streets that define it, will likely be familiar; it’s not so easy to alter rights of way. This underscores an important distinction. Urbanism and architecture observe different time lines. It may be a mistake to tie traditional urbanism to traditional architecture, as many proponents do. The two are entirely different animals.
REMEMBERING
I have different ways of remembering. I have framed an old sketch I came across that shows her in the first home we shared. “Shirley at the table with lots of things” I had written. “And Vitold” she’d added. I buy flowers; for the house, I say to myself, but really for her. I keep her favorite necklet on her night-table, sometimes I rotate it with bracelets and other pieces. Once in a rare while I spray her Sisley Eau de Soir—there is just a little left. What will I do when it runs out? We talk: Good morning I say. I tell her my plans for the day. I’m going shopping, I think I’ll stop at the wine store. I toast her when I open the bottle. I almost say “Santé,” but I stop myself. Not that.
NOTHING BUT THE FACTS, MA’AM
When I started writing I found myself dealing with subjects about which I was not knowledgable: medieval history, economics, social mores. My habit was to go to the university library, find a relevant book in the card catalog, then go to that section of the stacks where I could leaf through many related books—old and new—on the same subject. I concentrated on reputable university and trade publishers, at least to start with. When I found a book that struck me as particularly apposite, I could make use of the writer’s reference notes and bibliography to dig deeper.
Of course the library had curated its collection, an advantage I no longer have with Google, which is more like a huge information scrap heap, some useful, most not. Google Books includes manuals, government directories, obscure indie publisher. Yet once in a while I can still find gold. But I still miss wandering in the stacks.
Which brings me to ChatGPT. I hear many enthusiasts saying that it is a wonderful replacement for Google. The parlor tricks aside—a sportscast in the style of Jane Austen—for me the big drawback in the lack of sources. Information is presented in such an authoritative voice that it is easy to believe.
GUESS WHERE?
My friends Nancy and Randy Williams sent me this photo taken recently at the Villa Witold in Charleston, SC. The villa, inspired by the loggia of Palladio’s Villa Saraceno, was built in 2011 by Reid Burgess, George Holt, and Andrew Gould. Palladio built the original in 1548 outside Finale de Agugliaro, a small town in the Veneto. Described in detail in Charleston Fancy: Little Houses & Big Dreams in the Holy City.
DOUGLAS KELBAUGH (1945-2023)
Sorry to hear of Doug Kelbaugh’s passing. I met him at Seaside when he was involved in the New Urbanism movement, but I first heard of him in 1973, in connection with a solar house that he built for himself in Princeton. It made an impression because unlike most solar-heated houses of that period, which had sloping solar collectors and resembled wedges of cheese, the Kelbaugh House had real architectural qualities. The house was passively solar heated by means of a Trombe wall, named for its inventor, Félix Trombe (1906-85), a French engineer who was in charge of building a 1000 kW solar furnace in southern France. I was doing research on solar stills, and I heard Trombe speak at a UNESCO conference in Paris in the Seventies. The basic principle of his device was simple: a south-facing thick masonry wall painted black, an air gap, and a glazed wall. The sun warmed the masonry, which at night radiated heat to the interior of the house. No fans or pumps (hence the “passive” moniker), and no angled solar collector, just a masonry wall. There was a bit more to it, but that is the idea in a nutshell. Doug added glazed windows to the wall,
CLEARING IN THE DISTANCE REDUX
Gakugei-Shuppansha has published a Japanese edition of A Clearing in the Distance: Frederick Law Olmsted and America in the Nineteenth Century. This is the first foreign edition of the book, which was published by Scribner in 1999. Thanks to Mr. Hiroki Hiramatsu for spearheading this project and for his thoughtful translation. A social entrepreneur, Hiamatsu is the founder and CEO of Woonerf Inc. and co-founder of Green Building Japan.
