Turning a City into an Urban Village
by Lah-May
When I look out beyond Sedona, the city in which I live, I see beautiful red rock formations. Recently the weather started warming, beckoning me out of the office and out the house. Because I live on one side of the main road (Highway 89A) that runs through town, and work on the other, I already knew the city wasn't friendly to walkers. There are few places to cross, and drivers don't have a lot of respect for pedestrians—we certainly don't have the right-of-way. So on one nice weekend day, I decided to try going for a bike ride around town.
While making my way down the main road, traffic whizzed by, diesel fumes choked me, and litter swirled in the wind. With no bike path provided, I had a choice to make—I could compete with some walkers for sidewalk space or risk life and limb and ride along with the cars. One honk from an irate driver who obviously didn't approve of my riding on the road got me back on the sidewalk. Having lived in and around L.A., I felt like I was once again in the big city.
Coming home from a rather unpleasant experience, I couldn't help but contemplate what went wrong, and what could be done to make Sedona hospitable to bicyclists and walkers, as well as a closer community where people could meet, converse, and get to know one another. Years ago there seemed to be potential and possibilities. In 1971 Abe Miller began construction on the beautiful Tlaquepaque, envisioning it to be a village that both housed artists and provided space for them to sell their work. While Tlaquepaque is breathtaking with its incredibly beautiful architecture, the artist colony concept has been replaced by high end art galleries and upscale restaurants, surrounded by time share hawks.
Outside of Tlaquepaque, Sedona (with the exception of the uptown tourist center where locals don't really want to hang out), to the seasoned traveler, Sedona seems to have relegated itself to being yet another generic city of mini malls and time shares. If there are visionaries in this town, they have no voice…or clout. Almost everywhere I look the city seems to reflect a "beholden-ness" to economic and commercial interests.
Not to turn a blind eye to its positive aspects, Sedona can be proud of its library, its sport-oriented Posse Grounds, and its children-oriented Sunset Park. The Adult Community Center provides daily lunches and many activites for the aging, and the Boys’ and Girls’ Club and Teen Center offer activities for the city’s youth.
Yet, what is it that makes a city not a city, but an urban village? Why do I have such fond memories of walking around California's Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo, and San Francisco? Why is the quantness of many cities of Yorkshire, England still vivid in my memory? Why do friends who share my concerns speak highly of cities like Boulder (Colorado), and Austin (Texas)?
The chance to walk around town, rather than being forced into your car by thoughtless urban planning, is one of the most basic measures of a community's enlightenment. This is not only because walking is one of life's most underrated pleasures, but because having large numbers of pedestrians fosters other benefits such as cleaner air, more human-scale architecture, low crime, and increased neighborliness. Architects Andres Duany and Elizabeth Plater-Zyberk, two of the most influential urban planners in America today, argue that a great city is merely a confederation of great neighborhoods. And they point out that great neighborhoods are easily identifiable by the presence of a lively business district within easy walking distance of everyone who lives there. Also known as urban villages, these neighborhood centers include public spaces like coffeeshops and parks where people can meet one another and talk over what's happening around town. And that's the kind of community engagement and connectedness that distinguish the following towns as good places to live—and great places to learn from.
~ Jay Walljasper, cafeutne.org
In seeking understanding as to what makes a city human-friendly, I ran
across a little book called City Comforts; How to Build an Urban
Village.
The author, David Sucher, a planner from Seattle, Washington, offers
numerous suggestions on how to create an environment that encourages
inter-personal community. He writes that the three main necessary
patterns upon which all the other "nice-ities" (i.e. "tamed" traffic,
places to sit and chat, places to have food or drink) depend upon are:
build to the sidewalk; make the storefront permeable—let people see
inside and put parking behind, or under, or above, or to the side of
the building since they're not the kind of place you want to hang
around.
After reading the book and looking at the photographs of
urban design examples that work well in other cities, I can't help but
wonder if Sedona will ever be urban village. With a highway that runs
through the middle of the city and a strip mall appearance on either
side, the future looks a bit grim.
There are, however, residents who are trying to do something about it. A project called, the Heart of Sedona, is attempting to create an oasis that draws residents and visitors alike. The task force envisions a revival of the original and historic Heart of Sedona: a place where residents and visitors come together; a neighborhood of adults and children, residences and workplaces; a place for creative, cultural, and civic expression, educational and nature experiences, and routine human activity that creates a sense of place and connectedness; a place that honors Sedona’s historic and scenic treasures and values. Unfortunately, the area they had hoped the city would secure was sold by the U.S. Forest Service to the highest bidder—James Bruno of Chandler. While some of 21-acre site is currently zoned for community facilities, another will allow medium density single family residental development. Sigh...such a life on such a planet.
Whether the Heart of Sedona task force suceeds in their vision, in actuality, Sedona, like many other cities, is going to have to face the inevitable. Today's western lifestyles may very well become a thing of the past—and relatively soon. With an oil-based energy economy at its peak, experts are predicting shifts to more localized communities and economies. Whether we slide into it naturally or abruptly fall flat on our faces will be determined by the decisions and choices made by individuals and by leaders at levels—from the city level to the national level.
I encourage other residents who are concerned about the future of Sedona to voice their opinion. Write letters to the editor, to the city council, the city planners. Refer them to articles and books by experts successful in urban planning. Offer them your own first-hand experiences in other cities—encourage them to follow the leaders in this field.
As Sucher states,…I believe our society makes the problem of city building far too complicated. We confuse it with grandeur and we confuse it with complex public administration. It is neither. The main task is making people comfortable, the same task faced by the host at a party. In fact, think of the main job for the City Planner as being the Amy Vanderbilt of the City.…Human comfort is the measure of a city's success.